A/N: More fluff! Enjoy!

Provocation

"Really?" Draco snorted into his emerald scarf and glanced incredulously at his boyfriend through frosty platinum hair.

Harry grinned. "Sure, why not?" he asked, starting to cross the road.

Draco grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him back. "Because I look like a tramp, Harry, that's why."

"Draco, you could never look like a tramp," declared Harry, "You positively ooze class."

"I am not going in there, Harry," Draco persisted, "That, in case you had forgotten, is the most expensive restaurant in town. Great first impression we'd make! Look at us! At the moment we look more suited to that awful pub full of hags we made the mistake of going to once. I have just spent the entire day feeding chickens at you friend's 'house' and pretending to enjoy it: I am not in the mood."

Harry's face snapped into a scowl. "Well I'm hungry, Draco, and I'm having dinner here. Feel free to join me or not," he quipped, turning on his heel and making again for the impressive oak doors.

Draco rolled his eyes and hurried after him. "Well for Christ's sake at least sort your hair out."

"Is that all you ever think about?" Harry asked, obviously annoyed, "Your appearance?"

"Our appearance, love," corrected Draco.

Harry pushed on one of the doors and strode into the soft glow of the restaurant. "In case you'd forgotten, Draco," he hissed, "We are Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They are not going to refuse to let us in."

"That is not the attitude to have," muttered Draco vehemently as an obsequious waiter took their cloaks and lead them to a table by the window.

As soon as he sat down, Harry picked up the menu and studied it carefully, fully absorbed in the overly flamboyant descriptions of each extravagant dish. Over the top of the piece of card, however, he could see Draco shooting fervent glances at the other diners, nervously brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Lighten up, Dray," he said, smiling, "No-one's going to think any less of you because you don't look quite as impeccably stunning as you usually do."

Draco glared across the candlelit expanse of polished wood between them. "But if they do, I'm blaming you."

His lopsided grin melting into a frown, Harry replied, "You can't be that bothered, Dray, come on."

"There's nothing wrong with taking pride in your appearance, Harry," said Draco, affronted, as the waiter poured each of them a glass of wine. "You and I have obviously had very different upbringings," he drawled, reaching a pale hand towards his goblet and taking a long draught.

Harry stared at him, aghast. "And what is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, impatiently waving away the waiter who was now hovering at his shoulder in an attempt to take down his order.

Draco quirked an eyebrow over the crystal which was tipped again towards his mouth. Lowering the glass, he stated, "Well, the Weasleys aren't exactly what you'd call sophisticated now, are they?"

"You are such a snob," spat Harry, grabbing a breadstick.

"Quelle surprise," Draco exclaimed in mock horror, "I thought you knew what you were letting yourself in for when you plunged so readily into this relationship."

"So did I," murmured Harry into his red wine.

Draco looked hurt. "Oh yes? And what was that?" he questioned.

"Well I knew you were vain, selfish and arrogant, but I though we could work past that," Harry threw at him waspishly. "Evidently I was wrong," he said with malice, nonchalantly snapping his grissini in half.

Draco turned white. "Well I knew you were a self-righteous, puffed-up wonder child, but I thought you'd grown out of it," he snarled back, voice dripping with venom, "evidently I was also wrong in that respect." He turned, calmly, to the timid waiter beside him and placed his order with a smile, then glared at Harry as if to challenge him to do the same.

Flustered, Harry asked for the steak and patiently answered the waiter's necessary questions: yes, they'd like a bottle of water; no, they didn't want anything else quite yet, thanks; no, he wouldn't be needing any additional sauces; and yes, Draco would like some more wine. As the waiter hurried away, Harry fixed Draco with a harsh look. "And there I was thinking you could change."

Draco laughed coldly, "Who's to say I ever wanted to?" Harry faltered. "Exactly. There's no point in trying to fix something that isn't broken, Harry."

Harry's brow was furrowed. "I'm not trying to fix you," he said, defensively.

"Really?" Draco asked, feigning surprise, "You could have fooled me." He fingered his goblet, looking downcast.

Harry nibbled his breadstick as an uneasy silence settled between the pair. Draco watched as the candle sank lower, flickering in a light draft from the window, until their meals arrived. The interruption seemed to jolt Harry out his reverie. When the waiter left them alone once more, Harry poked at his meat and said sheepishly, "I don't want to change you, Dray."

Glancing up from his carbonara, Draco made a small sound of disbelief and reached yet again for the wine.

"I mean it, Dray," Harry persisted quietly, "I must've fallen in love with you for a reason," he pointed out.

Draco let out a tentative chuckle, locking his deep grey eyes with the sparkling emerald ones opposite. "I am ridiculously good-looking."

Harry laughed. "And modest."

"And," added Draco, eyes flashing with mischief, "fantastic in bed."

Midway through a drink of water, Harry spluttered, flushing wildly.

"Don't be so embarrassed, Harry," Draco teased, "It's only natural to want to shag me senseless."

Harry's cheeks burned. "Shh," he chided, "this is the most expensive restaurant in town, in case you'd forgotten."

"How common of me," Draco drawled, his slender fingers leaving his wine glass and finding their way onto Harry's thigh, "I do apologise."

Harry bristled in response to the gesture and shot his boyfriend a look across the table, to which Draco merely slid his hand further up Harry's leg and demanded, "Can't you eat any quicker, Potter?"

Glancing down at Draco's clean plate and feeling his skilled fingers tighten their grip, Harry wolfed down the remainder of his meal and the two had called the waiter over, paid, and left together within a matter of minutes.

I'm loving these titles. This was written last night at 2:00am, so I apologise if it's a bit skew-whiff.

I quite like it though. Tell me what you think.

Go! Review!