Harry slid into the booth and turned over his plastic water cup. Malfoy had insisted they get Indian food at the diner two blocks over. He looked across the table to see the blonde carefully unwrapping his silverware and placing the utensils on the napkin, evenly spaced. Harry cleared his throat, causing Malfoy to look up, and gave a tentative smile.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, "What's happening here, Potter?"

The waitress came over, filled the water cups, and took their orders, Tikka Masala for Malfoy and Curry for Harry. When she left Malfoy looked expectantly back at Harry.

"Stop being so paranoid," Harry said, glancing quickly around the restaurant. "You are not allowed to choose where we eat next."

"I'm meeting a client tonight at the Double, which is a block down, and this is the best Indian food in a ten-mile radius, Potter. You should be thankful that I introduced you to this place."

"I believe that it's good food," Harry replied, trying to keep his tone casual and block out thoughts of who Malfoy would be meeting at the Double, which he knew to be a fairly popular night club, "but it's not really the atmosphere I usually choose for a-" he cut off the word date as an idea came to mind. Pansy and Hermione had said not to pay for sex, but they hadn't said anything about paying for other services. "Speaking of your clients, I wanted to talk to you about something. I have a business proposition for you."

Malfoy's hand twitched so violently that his water cup tipped and spilled over the edge of the table, and into his lap. "Fuck."

Harry waved his hand without giving it much thought and the water vanished, leaving the table and Malfoy dry. When he fully realized he'd done it he let his magic linger on Malfoy for a beat before pulling it back in.

"Fuck," Malfoy repeated, though it was a bit more breathless than the first one. Once the waitress refilled his cup he asked, "Are you sure you've not been obliviated?"

Harry let his eyes drop obviously over Malfoy, taking in his lips, broad shoulders, the exposed forearms, and the fingers wrapped around his fresh water glass. He looked back up to meet Malfoy's eye, "I haven't forgotten anything. But the war is over and you've always been able to get my attention. Just seems a bit different than it did in school. I suppose I thought it might be the same for you, yeah?"

"I-" Malfoy's mouth opened and closed a couple times before he said, "I've not really thought about it."

Harry lifted an eyebrow at that, and Malfoy lifted his chin definitely, though Harry could see he was fighting a smirk. "So about that business proposition?" Harry asked.

"Potter, there's no way you can afford me. Not only am I expensive, I would charge you at least three times my going rate."

Harry blushed, "No. Not- it's just an event. I need a date to a gala event in July. No wallbanging," he said, the words catching in his dry throat.

Malfoy's brows drew down, "Wallbanging?"

Harry chewed at his bottom lip and wondered what it would be like to think things through before speaking. "It's your- I mean, you live next door to me," he said, forcing himself to stop fidgeting "So, you know there's thin walls and my bedroom is," Harry continued l, watching Malfoy's face go a bit more pale, "we share a wall, and sometimes," he cleared his throat, "I mean your clients aren't exactly quiet."

The waitress started putting food on the table and Harry was surprised that he hadn't noticed her approaching. Malfoy stared across the table silently as the waitress set down the plates. When she left, he said, "You've been listening to me?"

"Not on purpose! The walls are thin."

"You're a wizard, Potter," he motioned to his own lap, "clearly you have no problems casting wandless wordless bloody charms in a muggle restaurant. What was it exactly that gave you difficulty with the Muffliato?"

"Piss off Malfoy," Harry said in an angry whisper, "there's no reason for you to play the victim here. I'm the one who had to listen to the spankings and the handcuffs while you were getting off."

Malfoy's cheeks went pink and Harry silently cheered himself for getting under his skin. Nothing felt like riling his once proclaimed rival. His feelings of triumph lasted nearly a full minute before Malfoy retaliated.

"So you've spent the last two weeks listening to me fuck other people," Malfoy said, letting his voice drop into a seductive drawl, "and now you want to hire me."

"As a date for the gala," Harry replied, weakly vying for the upper hand or any hand, really. As he seemed to have lost his in a matter of seconds.

Malfoy hummed in response, "So we're not going to fuck?"

Harry grimaced, looking down at his untouched meal. How is this backfiring so quickly? He thought. "Well, I was thinking," he said slowly, trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking. "I would like to secure the date for the gala, and in the meantime," he paused trying to piece together a plan.

Malfoy watched him from across the table a slow smirk spreading on his lips as he waited, radiating false patience and superiority.

Harry cleared his throat and said, "I want to take you out on dates before that, real dates."

"You want to date me." Malfoy lifted an eyebrow, "And the wallbanging? Are we going to wait on that until we have some sentimental Gryffindor night that can be finished off with sweet, gentle, boring sex?"

"First of all, I think you are confused about Gryffindors and sex. You're thinking of Hufflepuffs. Second, I don't have anything against sentimental as long as it includes handcuffs or spanking. And third," he paused, swiping his tongue quickly only to watch the blonde's eyes follow the movement. "Draco," Malfoy's eyes snapped up to meet his at the sound of his given name. "I think you want to fuck me."