They were tight. Much tighter than Draco had anticipated. That wasn’t the only problem either. The underwear sported red and golden colours- perfect for a Gryffindor.

Draco had seen the obvious ‘Gryffindor’ briefs when out shopping down Diagon Alley, gathering the required food for later.

Today marked his and Harry’s second anniversary and Draco had planned a succulent, romantic dinner- cooked by yours truly since Harry couldn’t cook for shit. Afterwards he thought they could enjoy a ‘fun hobby’ of theirs upstairs, knowing that the meal would have set the tone perfectly.

However after fifteen minutes straight, unattractively gaping at the underwear in the window, he was left with no choice but to enter the robe shop cautiously.

Potter pants, as they were so infamously called were all the range at the current period of time. Anything to do with the Saviour of the Wizarding World seemed to sell out before even hitting the shelves.

Draco couldn’t stop staring, and yet his mind couldn’t keep from wondering what Harry would say or do if he found Draco wearing them.

Would it turn him on? Would it freak him out?

His and Draco’s sex life was incredible, he wasn’t going to deny it. It didn’t need spicing up- it was still as fucking hot as it was the very first time.

Then again it was their anniversary, and perhaps Potter deserved a surprise and Draco would make damn sure that it ended with sex.

Lots and lots of sex.

Damn, getting hard in the robe shop was not a good idea. Think of something else, quick! Ron shirtless, Ron and his annoyingly ginger hair, mother and father going at it- yep that worked.

Fuck it, Draco thought. I’m getting the pants.

Sauntering over the counter he handed over the pants, grinning. “I’ll take these to go.”

  Maybe this was a terrible idea. Fuck, it was too late to back out.

Draco stood in the bathroom at Grimmuld Place, which he currently shared with The Chosen One, pacing up and down and back up again.

The meal had gone superbly, obviously he made it, and the mood had been set as planned.

There had been lingering touches, plenty of eye fucking and an arousal that lasted the entire time.

He wasn’t going to deny that the special Potter Pants were comfortable, but as the time dawned closer to revealing them, Draco began to panic.

What if Harry didn’t find them hot, or even hilarious at least?

Would it mean he wouldn’t get a good fucking? Damn he wasn’t going to risk it!

As he went to remove the pants, he heard Harry’s voice through the door, “Um Draco, you’ve been in there quite a while...is everything alright?”

Shit. Bloody Hell, he was completely fucked. “Fine...I’m coming out. Go sit on the bed.”

Fuck it, it’s now or never. Opening the door he could see Harry sitting on the bed fiddling with his hands-Merlin’s beard, those hands... now was not the time for that train of thought.

Feigning confidence Draco strode out into the room so he was stood directly in front of his fiancé.

Harry’s reaction was priceless. If only Draco had one of those muggle picture things.

He appreciatively dragged his gaze hungrily down Draco’s frame, until making a choked noise of shock when seeing the briefs.

Draco bit his lip in worry as Harry’s face hadn’t changed in the slightest.

A couple of minutes had passed in silence with Harry still gaping at Draco’s crotch, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

“Well?”

Draco reinforced his question by doing a slow 360 turn. Harry made another slightly choked noise.

“...Draco...What the fuck are they?” He spoke directly to Draco’s crotch.

“Potter Pants.” As if that was most natural answer in the world.

“Where did you get them?”

Draco put a hand on his hip, “Diagon Alley, they are all the range at the minute.”

 “But...They have my ...name on...”

It was true. That is what made Draco Lucius Malfoy stop in his tracks on the late Saturday afternoon.

There in the window were ‘Potter Pants’.

On both sides of the briefs was his fiancé’s name, Harry on the crotch and Potter curved around the arse.

This obviously accompanied by Gryffindor colours.

“Look if they are making you uncomfortable I can just take them off.”

Harry shot up yanking Draco’s hand away from the fabric, “NO...I like them.”

Draco raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “You do?”

The Saviour met his eyes, “Yeah, I really do...”

Then The Saviour of the Wizarding World sank to his knees, looking up at the ex-death eater.

“In fact how about I show you how much I like them?”

Damn, if Draco knew this would be the reaction he’d have bought more. He may have forgotten to tell his fiancé about the numerous varieties of ‘Potter Pants’ still in the store.

It really was a spectacular anniversary.

END.