Harry discovers Grindr and realises that he can screen his hook-ups according to his specific...needs.
What happens when he finds himself staring at Draco Malfoy when he arrives for his first foray into dating apps.
Started out as pure smut, but the...
It'd been a terrible week. I deserved to treat myself.
***
I'll admit, I was rather surprised when Malfoy agreed to a second meeting so easily.
"So... ready for Round Two?" I'd messaged, sending another gratuitous nude, this time not bothering to hide my face, giving him a cheeky wink in the photo.
"Sure," the response had come less than five minutes later (not that I was counting). "Can you come to mine? I'll adjust the wards."
Could I ever.
Instead, I texted:
"Sure. Send the coordinates. See you soon."
A few minutes later, I found myself in a large reception with honey-coloured hardwood floors and big windows overlooking one of those fancy, historic red-brick buildings so that I knew I had apparated to somewhere posh like Knightsbridge or Mayfair. Because, of course, Malfoy would live somewhere posh.
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The flat was simply decorated in a contemporary style that I would not have equated with Malfoy, having seen where he grew up.
Then again, this would be the perfect rebellion against all that opulence.
There was a small dining area immediately to my right, holding a dark, square table surrounded by four comfortable-looking grey-ish dining chairs. You know, those modern-looking ones that actually look like you'd want to sit in them, almost like an armchair, but without the arms?
Instead of one chair taking up each of the four sides of the table, two of them were placed on the same side of the table that faced the wall.
The side of the table nearest the wall had a small loveseat nestled between two white storage cabinets that ran floor-to-ceiling. Three slender, elegant silver chandeliers cast a soft light over the table.
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How Malfoy's dining nook managed to look cosy and inviting set in the wide-open of a sprawling double reception was beyond me, but it did.
It looked as though he could, and did, often gather a party of six around his table for languid dinners that stretched over hours, bottles of wine being passed while the group bantered and conversed long into the night.
