Drarry AI Oneshots

The First Kiss Fumble

Draco Malfoy had never felt this nervous in his life. Not during the war, not during exams, not even when his mother was watching him with that terrifying look of parental expectation. But now, sitting across from Harry Potter in a cozy, dimly lit café in Hogsmeade, Draco was a complete wreck.

It was their first date-something Draco still had a hard time believing. After months of awkward tension, accidental touches, and glances that lingered just a bit too long, Harry had finally asked Draco out. And Draco, being the absolute mess that he was when it came to his feelings, had said yes. Of course he had. It wasn't like he could have said no to Harry Potter, not when he'd been harboring a crush on him for what felt like forever.

But now that they were here, sitting together in a place that felt strangely intimate despite its bustling atmosphere, Draco couldn't help but feel like everything was slipping through his fingers. He had planned to be suave, to impress Harry with his charm, to maybe-just maybe-pull off a perfect first kiss by the end of the night. But instead, he'd been fumbling over his words, stammering like an absolute idiot every time Harry smiled at him or said something vaguely complimentary.

Draco took a sip of his tea, trying to focus on the conversation, but his mind was elsewhere-specifically, on how he was going to manage kissing Harry by the end of this date without completely embarrassing himself.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, his voice cutting through Draco's thoughts.

Draco blinked, looking up to meet Harry's concerned gaze. "What? Oh-yes. Yes, I'm fine."

Harry smiled, that easy, casual smile that made Draco's stomach flip in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. "You seem a bit distracted."

Draco forced a laugh, though it sounded more awkward than he had intended. "I'm not distracted. Just... thinking."

"About what?"

Draco's heart raced. About how badly I want to kiss you. But of course, he couldn't say that. Instead, he shrugged, trying to play it off. "Nothing important."

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Come on, Malfoy. What's on your mind?"

Draco felt a flush creeping up his neck, and he cursed himself for being so obvious. "I-well, I was just thinking about... this."

"This?" Harry repeated, leaning in slightly, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "You mean, the date?"

Draco nodded, feeling his throat tighten. "Yes. The date."

Harry's smile widened, and Draco's heart did another ridiculous flip. "It's going well, isn't it?"

Draco wanted to agree, but all he could think about was how every attempt he'd made to be smooth had backfired horribly. He had knocked over his glass when they first sat down, and then he had tried to make a clever comment about Quidditch that ended up sounding more like he was trying to insult Harry's skills on the pitch. Harry had laughed it off, but Draco had been internally screaming ever since.

"It's going well," Draco said, though the words came out more uncertain than he had intended.

Harry frowned slightly. "You don't sound convinced."

Draco bit his lip, feeling that familiar sense of panic rising in his chest. He couldn't keep fumbling like this. He needed to find a way to salvage the night-to find a way to show Harry that he wasn't a complete disaster when it came to dating.

"I'm just... nervous," Draco admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Harry's frown softened, and his expression turned gentle. "Nervous? Why?"