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This was a bad idea.
Harry knew it was a bad idea, had anything good ever come out of going on a Tinder Date?
But Luna and Ginny had been so persuasive last week when they’d been sitting around that cozy little table in their kitchen drinking sake that Luna had brought back with her from her recent trip to Japan to study Godric only knew which creature.
And could Harry really be blamed for believing them? When he was sitting there and watching Luna lovingly braid flowers into Ginny’s hair while they talked? When they had such a cozy little home and were obviously so happy together? Who could really blame him for reaching out to grasp at happiness when he felt so alone?
Tinder, though, had to be the worst idea in the history of ideas. And Harry definitely wouldn’t be sitting here at a muggle bar waiting for some bloke named Thomas, whose profile picture was a photo of the lightning bolt tattoo on his neck, to appear if Ginny and Luna hadn’t been the ones to set it up.
One drink, he told himself. He could handle one drink and then he’d politely excuse himself for the evening. No one said that you had to hook up with the bloke you’d only just met. Right?
Harry was steadily peeling the label off his beer and contemplating how big of an arse it would make him if he just disappeared and stood the other guy up when there was a quiet, posh, baritone asking, “Daniel?”
And Harry would have recognized that voice anywhere, in any circumstance, he whirled around, “Malfoy?”
“Potter?” the other man spluttered, equally incredulous.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Harry groaned.
“You knew this was a bad idea?” he asked, obviously incensed for some reason that Harry couldn’t fathom. “I knew it was a bad idea! What was I thinking letting Luna put me on the weird box?” he groaned.
“Wait, what?” Harry asked.
Malfoy looked down his nose at him, “Do you really think I would have put myself on that…” he broke of, scowling and obviously searching for the correct word, “that…”
“Computer?” Harry offered.
“Yes! That!” he said triumphantly. “I would never have put myself on this hellish…”
“Dating site?” Harry offered again.
“Yes, precisely.”
Harry sighed, “Well, I’ve got good news and I’ve bad news.”
He arched a brow at Harry and made a vague gesture with his hand.
“Good news, I don’t think that they’ve actually put us on Tinder,” he said.
“And the bad news?”
He bit his lip then said, “I think they’re trying to set us up.”
Malfoy stared at him, “No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Harry asked.
He shook his head, a lock of blond hair falling out of his perfect quiff, “Luna wouldn’t,” he said, words tinged with desperation. “She just thought it might help me to have a good…” he trailed off and a delicate flush covered his pale neck and cheekbones.
“Fucking?” Harry asked, amused and a little charmed in spite of himself. “Is that the word you’re looking for?”
Malfoy turned impossibly redder and Harry laughed, he couldn’t help himself, the other man glared at him, “I wasn’t going to be so crass about it but yes, if you must know.”
“Do you want to get a coffee instead?” Harry asked. The idea of sitting in a loud, stinky, smoky bar didn’t seem all that appealing.
“Is coffee a code for something?”
Harry blinked, “I’m sorry?”
He huffed impatiently, “Is it one of those muggle words that seems like it should mean one thing but actually means something filthy?”
“Do you want it to be a code for something filthy?” he asked curiously and because he knew that it would make the other man blush again.
“No!” he protested, and the flush spread down the pale column of his neck all the way down his chest, which Harry could see because the top three buttons on his shirt were undone.
“I’m only teasing,” Harry said, taking pity on him. “I just meant do you want to get a literal cup of coffee.”
Malfoy stared at him for a long moment and Harry found that it was a strangely pleasant experience. It had been a long time since those mercurial eyes had been pinned on him. “Alright,” he replied with a nod.
Harry stood up and gave him a cheeky grin, “I’m only saying, if you were after that good, hard fu-”
Malfoy knocked his shoulder into Harry’s, “Shut up,” he huffed.
He laughed and held the door for Malfoy, “There’s a little shop to the left, just a couple blocks away.”
“Come to this bar often, do you?” Malfoy asked.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head, “No, I’ve never been there actually.”
“Oh,” Malfoy said, brow furrowing. “But you picked the spot.”
“Yeah, because it’s three blocks down from the coffee shop that I spend most of my days in.”
Malfoy spluttered, “Are you seriously telling me that Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, the savior of the wizarding world, left said world after his eighth year at Hogwarts to become a barista?” he asked incredulously.
“No,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m telling you that Harry Potter left the wizarding world to become a trashy romance novelist.”
He treasured the look of shock and utter disbelief on Malfoy’s face as he held the door open for the other man.
“Here was are,” he said, putting his hand on Malfoy’s lower back to usher him inside. “So tell me, what have you been up to the last four years?”
————
Draco, it turned out, had been up to a great deal. He’d become a healer and then he began researching lycanthropy and alternative treatments. He’d traveled around the world and had returned from Peru only the month before.
“It’s quite exciting,” Draco said, cheeks flushed with excitement rather than embarrassment and Harry found himself impossibly more endeared. “The implications,” he added, shaking his head, “We could change the standard potion for helping lycanthropes handle full moons.”
“What’s the benefit?” Harry asked, more to hear Draco talk than anything.
He rolled his eyes, “The cost for starters, obviously.”
And that made sense, Wolfsbane was ridiculously expensive.
“It would be mere sickles for a year’s worth of potions.”
“Wow,” Harry started but Draco continued over him excitedly.
“And,” he said, “If the naturalpaths in the Huagurunchos are right, we could reduce the recovery time following the full moon substantially. They said that in some cases the lycanthrope is completely fine by morning.”
“That’s incredible,” Harry said sincerely. “You’re incredible.”
Draco’s mouth popped open in surprise and that adorable flush covered the bridge of his nose.
“You’ve got to stop,” Harry laughed.
“Stop what?” he asked indignantly.
He reached across the table and trailed a finger across Draco’s cheek, “The blushing. It’s too much and it’s making me…” he trailed off not sure where to end that sentence.
“Making you?” Draco prompted.
“Want to kiss you,” Harry whispered.
“Oh,” Draco breathed.
Harry chuckled, “Oh?” he asked. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“I-” Draco started before Stella reappeared, coffee pot in hand.
“Here’s a warm up for you two love birds,” she said refilling their mugs with fresh, steaming coffee.
“Oh,” Draco said, drawing back and flushing an even deeper shade of red, “We’re not,” he started before biting his lip and looking back at Harry, “Are we?”
Harry opened his mouth without any real idea what would come out but Stella beat him to that as well.
“Oh yeah,” she said, grinning wickedly at Harry. “We see all sorts come through but never anyone with our Daniel here,” she said with a little wink.
“Never, huh?” Draco asked, glancing back at Harry.
Harry scratched at his beard, “In fairness,” he responded, “You only see me in the mornings for work.”
“Yeah,” she replied, putting a hand on her hip, “But in fairness, I see you awfully early in the morning for work.”
“You wound me,” Harry teased, putting a hand across his heart. “You really do.”
“We’re just glad to see that you live some of what you write,” she said and Harry was grateful that his skin tone hid blushing so well because he was certainly feeling a little warm around the collar. “All those steamy smut scenes,” she teased, “We were starting to wonder if they were your only outlet-”
“Yes, thank you, Stella,” he said, laughing and shaking his head, “You absolute menace.”
She laughed and gave Draco a wink before sauntering off.
“I’m writing you in as the cock block in the next one,” he called after her.
Stella flipped him a two fingered salute, her laughter carrying all the way back to them from the kitchen.
“So,” Draco said, “Steamy smut scenes, huh?”
He chuckled, “I told you I was a trashy romance novelist.”
“I thought you were kidding!”
He shook his head, “Not all of us can go about curing lycanthropy and saving the world.”
“Well, you already did that, in fairness,” Draco replied. “It would start to feel a little old if you did it again.”
Harry laughed and reached across the table to toy with Draco’s long, elegant fingers, “This has been really fun.”
“Surprisingly,” Draco agreed.
“Would you maybe like to-”
“Go back to yours for a good, hard fucking?” Draco supplied and Harry choked on his saliva.
“I was going to say do this again some time. But I like your idea better,” he said, tossing some notes on the table and standing up.
“I assume you don’t live far from here?”
He grinned, “Correct.”
Draco stood up and turned to grab his jacket off the bench, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on his neck behind his ear.
“What is this all about, by the way?” Harry asked, reaching out to trail two fingers over the tattoo.
The other man bolted upright and covered the tattoo with his hand, “You weren’t supposed to see that!”
He laughed as he took Draco’s other hand in his and tugged him toward the door. “It’s your Tinder profile picture.”
“No it’s not!” he protested, “I picked one in a chunky oatmeal jumper, where I was staring out the window with a cup of coffee in my hands.”
“I told you they were playing us,” Harry replied, wrapping Draco’s arm through his as they set off down the sidewalk.
“Well, I guess I can’t bee too mad if this is the result,” he said, squeezing Harry’s arm.
The corner of him mouth ticked up, “So are you going to tell me about that tattoo?”
“You’ll just have to take me on another date to find out.”
Harry thought he probably already had a pretty good idea but he agreed anyway.
On their first anniversary, he surprised Draco with a tattoo of his own, Draco’s constellation right over his heart.