"What?" Draco stood stiffly, reminding Harry of an ice sculpture frozen in the middle of the starkly white Manor sitting room.

"What, do you mean, what?" Harry retorted, thinking that answering with a question was the easiest way to throw Malfoy off his normally solid footing and place the Snitch firmly within his reach.

Draco's surprise quickly turned into irritation as he began to pace back and forth. "I mean ... what the hell are you talking about?"

"Malfoy, it's not that difficult to understand," Harry answered, holding steadfastly to his chosen course of action. "You owe me a life debt. I'm not asking for your entire life, just six months of it. Then we're square and if you want, you can go on your merry little way doing ... whatever it is you do."

"We haven't spoken in two years and you think I'm going to—"

"You don't have a choice, Malfoy. Besides, it won't be that bad." Harry smiled in a way that he hoped was charming. "I'm the dashing young hero of the modern world. People will bend over backwards to make you happy."

"They do that anyway."

Harry shot Draco a look that said, "Oh, really now?"

"Well, the ones that don't hate me anyway. The rest don't count," Draco said immediately with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Harry chuckled. He'd learned very well in the last two years how to get what he wanted, and Malfoy wasn't going to be the exception. He had known the man would try to talk his way out of it and Harry had come prepared for it.

"Draco—"

"Don't call me that."

"It's your name. More to the point, it'll look odd if I call you Malfoy while we're—"

"We're not going to be anything."

Harry could see Draco grinding his teeth as the pacing stopped and he backed toward the door as if looking for a viable escape route.

"Yes. We are. I have to go and I'll be damned if I'll have a bunch of annoying Americans fawning all over me, vying for my affections. You're the perfect deterrent." Harry smiled roguishly. "And ... you can hex anyone you want."

Draco glanced up, again with an expression of surprise, but this time almost looking pleased. "Anyone?"

"Anyone. Except for me," Harry appended quickly. "And as long as it's not fatal. Actually, the more people you hex the better. That way they'll find out sooner, rather than later, that my adorable, jealous boyfriend is as hot-headed as he is hot and they'll leave us both alone."

"And what exactly do I get out of this little ... arrangement?"

Harry arched a dark brow – something he'd been practicing for just such an occasion. "You mean other than paying off a life debt to the saviour of the world?"

Malfoy matched his expression perfectly, making Harry grin. "Yes. Other than that."

"To spend as much of the Ministry’s money as you want while we're there. You know, the money that used to be yours before it was seized as payment for war reparations?"

"And all I have to do is—"

"Be my doting, jealous boyfriend for the six months I'm there."

Draco smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the doorframe as though he'd just realised that perhaps Harry's proposition might have a bit of merit. Two years ago, Harry would have wondered if he'd bitten off more than he could chew, but that was the old Harry. This Harry knew precisely what he could chew and he was well within his limits.

"You think you can handle me for six months?" Draco asked, his tone scathing, but his expression slightly amused.

Harry let his eyes roam up and down Draco's body and grinned. He may not have talked to Draco in two years, but he had kept tabs on him. Close tabs. And he'd learned that while on the surface Draco was still a spoiled, arrogant prat, there was a lot more to him than that. It was Harry's hope that before their time in America was over, Draco would also realise there was a lot more to him than a poorly dressed kid with a stupid scar on his forehead.

"I think I can handle you for as long as I want to."

Draco smirked again, his eyes flittering with that hint of challenge that had always excited Harry, even when he'd hated it.

"Fine. You win. Again. So, when do you propose we leave on this little adventure?"

"As soon as you're packed."

"What's to pack? I hear New York has exquisite designers. Why bring an old wardrobe when you can buy a new one?"

Draco pushed himself from the wall and circled Harry, appraising his outfit, which, while nice and certainly fashionable, probably still wasn't up to Malfoy standards. "And I'd suggest you do the same. If I'm to be flaunted as your boyfriend, I'll expect you to be drop-dead gorgeous at all times. Well, as much as you can manage, anyway. This—" Draco paused to run a hand over Harry's back, one shoulder to the other, "—will certainly need to be replaced. And this—" Draco's hand moved from Harry's shoulder to thread roughly through the back of his hair, "—will have to be trimmed and styled and perhaps ... well, I can't ask for miracles now can I?"

Draco's fingers combed through Harry's hair as he continued to circle like a panther stalking its prey. He stood squarely in front of Harry, his hand moving from Harry's hair to his jaw line, fingers trailing gently over the stubble that seemed to grow back as soon as Harry shaved.

"This can stay. It gives you a bit of a sinister, brooding look and highlights just how perfect my skin actually is. I think I rather like it."

Draco reached up to remove his glasses and Harry was surprised by how gently he'd done it. He bit down on his lip to resist the urge to reach out and pull one of those deliciously long fingers into his mouth and suck it.

"These ... aren't half-bad. An improvement over those horrid things you used to wear, but I think we can do better." Draco tossed the glasses carelessly onto the sofa, never once taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"This, you'll have to stop," Draco continued as he ran a finger over Harry's bottom lip, tugging it free of his teeth. "It's somewhat cute in a schoolboyish way, but we aren't schoolboys any longer, are we?"

Harry wanted to answer. To agree wholeheartedly that no, they most definitely weren't schoolboys, but he was having one hell of a time just keeping his tongue in his mouth and away from the finger that was tracing the line of his lower lip.

"Now the only question is..." Draco paused, cocking his head to one side as if considering the matter closely. "Actually, there are two questions. How good of an actor are you? And how good of a kisser are you?"

Harry gave up on resisting and let his tongue snake out to wrap around Draco's finger, pulling it into his mouth and sucking it in as far as it would go. He was pleased to see a hint of surprise in Draco's eyes. Well, fuck it all, Draco wasn't the only one who knew how to play at this game. He swirled his tongue around the warm digit until Draco's eyelids drooped and a slight breath parted the man's lips. Harry lifted his hand, holding Draco's as the finger slid free from his mouth. "There's only one way to know for sure," he said quietly.

Draco's eyes drifted open, almost as if in slow motion, and if Harry had had any doubts about what he was doing they were swallowed up in the depths of those sultry grey eyes. "Yes, I suppose it is better to find out sooner rather than later."

The hand that Harry wasn't holding found its way to the front of Harry's shirt and gripped tightly, as if Draco needed something to hold on to. "Don't disappoint me, Potter." Draco's voice was a combination of request and demand and somehow Harry got the sense that there was more meaning behind those simple words than Draco would ever admit.

Harry didn't say anything. He had always been better at doing than talking and he was pretty sure a kiss would say more than words could anyway. What he hadn't expected - had dreamed of but never dared to hope for – was that Draco moved forward, leaning his entire body into Harry as if suddenly he was just too tired to keep up the rigid posture that Harry had come to expect.

Harry wrapped one arm around Draco's waist to balance them both lest they topple over onto the floor. The hand holding Draco's tightened and Harry gave up any pretence that this didn't matter because Draco's lips fit perfectly against his and it was ten times better than Harry had ever imagined it would be.

The kiss didn't last long but it was enough. Enough for Harry to know he'd been right all along.

"You planned this didn't you?" Draco asked, sighing contentedly as he rested his head on Harry's shoulder.

Harry grinned, breathing in the scent of Draco's hair as it tickled his cheek. "Would you be impressed if I said yes?"

Draco shrugged, releasing Harry's hand so that he could wrap an arm tightly around Harry's waist. "Maybe," he finally answered.

Harry threaded the fingers of his free hand into Draco's hair and tugged, forcing Draco to look at him. "You should probably know that I'm a really bad actor."

Draco grinned, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Then it's a good thing I'm so irresistible, yes?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, "a really good thing." His arm tightened around Draco's waist, pulling him as close as he could possibly get without slipping beneath his skin. He felt warm lips form into a smile against his neck just as Draco's other hand fell from the front of his shirt and snaked beneath the hem, fingers ghosting along Harry's spine. Suddenly the previously dreaded trip to America seemed overflowing with possibilities.

The end