Title: The Best Laid Plans
Rating: NC17/Adult
Word Count: 2619
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong JK Rowling and associated publishers. I make no profit from this endeavour.
Author's Notes: Written for hd_cockfest 2011. Thanks to Summer for the beta.
Summary: Draco's finally asked Harry on a date and it's going to be perfect.


"About bloody time!" laughed Theo when Draco told him. "I was beginning to despair of you both."

Draco folded his arms and glared at his friend. "I don't know what you mean," he huffed, making a great show of staring down into his cup of tea. Even as he spoke he felt the blush creeping up his neck as he admitted to himself that he knew very well what Theo meant.

He'd finally asked Harry on a date.

"Don't give me that," Theo teased. "Isn't that right, Blaise – we all thought Draco would never man up and ask do something about his infatuation with Potter?"

Blaise snorted and sank into the seat besides Draco, nudging him with a friendly elbow.

"I am not infatuated with Potter!" Draco protested, refusing to give in just yet.

Theo and Blaise both rolled their eyes at each other. They'd heard this a thousand times before.

"Of course you're not," Blaise observed. "You get all moony eyed and protective over everyone, silly me."

"I do not-"

"Yes you do!" both of his friends chorused. Draco sighed and unable to help it, his frown split into a ginormous grin.

"I've got a date with Harry Potter!" he bragged, before the enormity of it hit him again and he deflated instantly. "Oh God – it's going to be a disaster!"

"Don't be such a girl," Theo said, laughing. "I knew you'd be like this – so I've been saving you something for when you finally got round to asking." He pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out what looked to Draco to be a tiny pamphlet, but then enlarged it to reveal a glossy Muggle magazine.

"FHM?" Draco raised an eyebrow at the photograph of a bikini clad model on the front cover. "How is this supposed to help – you might not have noticed, but Harry's not a girl."

Theo waved the magazine at Draco as though that would explain everything and then pointed at one of the headlines that ran down the side by the spine, 'Seven steps to the perfect date' – oh. Draco snatched the magazine, waved his wand at it and let magic find the page he needed.

"Isn't this about dating girls though?" His eager eyes scanned the article.

"Same thing for both at the end of the day," Blaise said, leaning into Draco to get a look at the article. At Draco's sceptical look, Blaise simply sat back and crossed an ankle over his knee. "I should know."

Blaise did swing both ways. Draco perked up. He did want the date to go perfectly after all. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least read the article even if it was aimed at Muggles.

"Thanks, Theo," he said, running his gaze over the article again. He had a date with Harry Potter – tomorrow night! The butterflies in his stomach began to take flight. He rolled up the magazine and tucked it in his robes pocket. He wanted to head straight home and read it in the privacy of his own room, but he didn't want his friends to know just how nervous he actually was. "I'll read it later."


Draco devoured the magazine article that evening and by the time he went to bed, too sick with anticipation to sleep; he had the whole evening all planned out, right down to the very last detail.

This was going to be the best date in the history of dating, Draco was certain of it. Harry Potter was going to be blown out of the water with Draco's thoughtfulness – and his great conversation and his unrivalled good looks.

Draco and Harry's first date was going to be so epic that in years to come, when someone wrote Harry Potter's biography, the date would warrant a whole chapter all on its own.


1. Look your best.

Draco had his outfit picked out - one of the rules of dating was to make sure that you look your best. In fact, on the list in the Muggle magazine, that Draco had committed to memory, looking good was rule number one. Naturally, being a Malfoy gave Draco a head start, but he'd still spent a great deal of time pondering what to wear, eventually choosing new soft as silk dark grey robes, some new tailored black trousers and a silver coloured shirt that matched his eyes.

Harry wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off him.

When Draco stepped through the floo at number 12 Grimmauld Place Harry was nowhere to be seen. "Harry?" Draco called out nervously, hearing his voice echo back at him from the beams of the old house. He supposed Harry was still getting ready; after all, Draco was a couple of minutes early. He hated tardiness.

"Up here!" Harry called back in reply, coming from somewhere upstairs. "Come on up."

Draco shrugged to himself and headed in the direction of the door. Harry probably needed help with his tie; Draco recalled back to their school days, how Harry's tie had always been a barely there knot that would never pass muster in the exclusive restaurant Draco had booked for their first evening together.

He took the stairs two by two, desperate for his first glance of Harry, calling out, "Which room?" when he reached the top of the stairs.

"Last but one," Harry replied, his voice sounding distant.

Draco hurried down the corridor, pausing at the door to smooth down his robes and to take a breath – it wouldn't be appropriate to let Harry see just howkeen he was. Malfoys did not display their emotions for the whole world to see, they were cool and collected.

Draco ran a finger around the back of his collar and sighed.

Malfoys most certainly did not show their nerves.


2. Sort out your hygiene and styling.

Draco went for a haircut on the morning before his date with Harry. He had a manicure and made sure to purchase new boxer shorts for the occasion. Before he dressed for the date he made sure to take a shower and sprayed himself with his favourite cologne. He wanted Harry to associate that smell with him and had visions of Harry borrowing his scarf in the winter and sniffing it just so that he could smell Draco when they weren't together. Okay – so maybe that was a bit creepy but- Draco might've happened upon Harry's Gryffindor scarf in sixth year and used it to help him sleep whilst he worried about his mission with the Vanishing Cabinet.

Draco pushed open the door, and the first thing he noticed was the scent. It was the familiar musky scent that was purely Harryand Draco breathed in contentedly. He stepped inside the door and looked around, expecting to see Harry in front of the floor length mirror on the wardrobe adjusting his tie. Instead he was met with an empty room.


"I'm in the bathroom." The muffled voice floated through the door to Draco's left. "Give me a minute."

Draco tried not to let the images of Harry in the shower, naked, work their magic on his cock, because it really wouldn't do to meet his date with an erection.

Harry was probably trying to get his hair to stay in place for their date. Draco secretly adored Harry's scrappy mop of wild hair, but the idea that Harry was trying to tame it for him made the butterflies go wild. Draco couldn't force the grin off his face even as the nerves made him sway and he had to steady himself on the door jamb.


3. Be in the know.

Draco had done his research. he knew that Harry hated busy public places where he was likely to get accosted by fannish types wanting their picture taken with the Saviour, so he'd chosen the venue for the date with a great deal of care. Firstly, he'd gone Muggle because Harry was less likely to be recognised; second, it was a nice cosy pub in the middle of nowhere that Draco had seen an article about in a Muggle newspaper he'd read for a case he was working on. He was certain Harry would approve of this choice and if he didn't, Draco had a plan B lined up. This date was going to beperfect.

"I think you'll like where we're going," he said loudly so that Harry could hear him through the door as he explored Harry's bedroom with greedy eyes. The walls were a surprising olive green, and the bed sheets and curtains were a darker shade of green that perfectly complimented the room. There was a large bookshelf, stuffed full of various tomes, and in front of the books were several photographs, waving at Draco from the confines of their frames.

Draco was about to go and investigate when the door clicked open and Harry appeared. Draco's jaw dropped.


4. Read up on manners, courtesy and chivalry.

Now, Draco was a Malfoy, he'd learnt manners before he'd learned to talk. He wanted to be careful though, Harry wasn't a girl and might not appreciate Draco holding doors open for him and pulling back his chair in the restaurant. Draco planned to play it by ear - always ask Harry his preference, always be polite and considerate - and if Harry seemed unhappy that Draco was holding open doors for him, then Draco would refrain and let Harry retain some of his own autonomy.

If Harry found something he didn't like about Draco over the course of this evening, it wasn't going to be his manners! He would be the perfect gentleman.

Draco snapped his jaw closed, mindful that gaping at somebody was the height of bad manners.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, waggling his eyebrows at Draco suggestively. His hands went to his waist, to the waistband of the dark jeans he was wearing – and nothing else – and Draco couldn't help being mesmerised by his long fingers as they undid the buttons there and he stepped out of them.

Harry was not wearing any underwear.

"Fuck," Draco hissed as Harry's half hard cock came into view and Harry kicked the jeans to one side. "Fuck!"

With that one word, Draco's manners went out of the window.


5. Start listening and stop talking.

Unbelievably, considering her lack of tolerance in school, Pansy was now a trained therapist. Draco had pleaded with her until she caved in and gave him a quick lesson in a few essential listening skills. Always nod to show you are paying attention. Ask interested questions, 'so, Harry, what made you want to be an Unspeakable?' or, 'Harry, you said earlier that you thought that the Canons had no chance - would you care to tell me why you think that?' Pansy had also said Draco should refrain from talking about himself too much and to show Harry that he was interested in what he had to say and he must absolutely not be waiting for his turn to speak.

Easy - Draco could listen. After all, he wanted nothing more than to get to know Harry a

great deal better.

The blood pounded in Draco's ears, which was odd he thought absently, because most of it had rushed south and was rapidly filling his cock.

Harry said something then, but Draco didn't hear a word of it. He blinked and stared up at Harry's moving lips, locked in a daze. Harry rolled his eyes and licked his lips. He raised his right hand and crooked his index finger at Draco.

Draco might have lost the ability to communicate, but that he understood. On autopilot he pushed back from the door jamb he'd been leaning against and almost glided over to Harry.


6. Learn to dance even if you have two left feet.

Obviously Draco didn't need dancing lessons! He'd improved greatly since that dreadful Yule Ball in fourth year, and had taken lessons so that he wouldn't make a fool of himself at all the functions and parties he was always on the invite list for as the heir to the Malfoy fortune. It wouldn't do to be treading on anyone's toes now would it? Harry might not want to dance after they'd eaten, but if he did, the restaurant had a small dance floor for those who fancied a turn. Draco looked forward to holding Harry close; he'd longed for this day.

It would be perfect.

Harry shook his head slightly, his expression fond, and dipped his head to press his lips against Draco's. The touch of his lips sent a spark of magic thrumming under Draco's skin, waking him up with an electrifying jolt.

Instinctively Draco slid his arms around Harry's waist and pulled his naked form closer. Being fully clothed with a very naked and now very aroused Harry pressed up against him was quite possibly the most erotic thing ever.

Harry spun him as they kissed in a mocking parody of the dancing Draco had been hoping for as part of their date; Draco's carefully chosen robes hit the floor and dextrous fingers undid the fastenings of his trousers before his cock was freed and encased in the warmth of Harry's palm.

Not that Draco was complaining. This dance was just perfect. He felt the back his legs hit Harry's bed, and Harry's palm on his chest pushing him down onto it with a tiny bounce.


7. Never expect sex on a first date.

As if Draco would ever have such expectations!

He had high hopes that after the food, a couple of glasses of wine and, hopefully, the dancing, that when he and Harry parted company for the evening there would be some kissing. That would be nice.

Amazing. Harry would agree that a second date was a good idea and Draco would promise to send him an owl to arrange it.

Draco concluded that with a lot of luck he and Harry might be intimate by the sixth date; maybe he would take Harry away for the weekend to somewhere romantic and quiet, somewhere they could go for a walk and hold hands, somewhere with a river or a lake that they could sit beside and talk; perhaps they would lie on their backs with their fingers threaded together and stare at the sky as they talked.

It would be perfect.

Harry bent his dark head and teased Draco's already leaking cock with a flick of his tongue, his green eyes looking up at Draco, full of mischief and promise.

"What about dinner?" Draco croaked, instantly wanting to kick himself for even thinking about food when Harry Potter's tongue was lapping his cock.

Harry sat up and leant forward, his face just above Draco's, his lips quirked in a tiny smile. "I'm not hungry," he said, licking his lips, "not for food anyway."

He pressed a brief kiss to Draco's stunned lips.

"I've waited long enough for you," he said, bowing his head and nibbling Draco's collar bone. "I thought you'd never get the hint."

Draco was so lost in sensation that he realised too late what Harry was doing with his hands, and the answer to the question of exactly what Harry had been doing in the bathroom before his arrival became apparent; preparing himself for Draco.

Draco's eyes opened wide as his cock was enveloped in tight warm heat as Harry lowered his slicked arse down over it. "Fuck," he grunted as Harry settled himself and Draco's hands automatically moved to his hips. "Harry."

Harry leant down and kissed him as he began to ride Draco.

Draco closed his eyes. This was perfect.