Disclaimer: Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy do not belong to either racheesi or ivysnowe, much to their immense disappointment.

Warning: This fic contains SLASH, bitchy-ness, and language. Beware.

"I have arrived." Blaise said triumphantly, entering Draco's room and dropping his messenger bag on the bed.

"Hey. Get me a drink, will you?" The blonde asked lazily.

"Well, nice to see you, too. One would think my best friend would at least try and observe the niceties before treating his best friend like a slave"

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a Galleon and flicked it at Blaise, hitting the boy in the forehead. "There. I paid you. Servant."

"Fuck you."

"You too. My drink?"

Blaise pulled out a mug from his bag and tapped it a few times until it filled three-quarters full with a rich dark hot chocolate. Blaise then proceeded to take out a bottle of firewhiskey and pour a generous (very generous) shot into the mug. He passed it to Draco before getting out a bottle of muggle beer and tapping it with his wand until it was ice cold. He took a huge swig and sat on the bed across from Draco.

"So, how's life been, mate? Do anything interesting?"

"Mmm. Yeah sure. I sat in here, sat in the library, sat in the dining room, sat through another one of my parents' appeals from Azkaban, sat in the sitting room, and sat in the kitchen."

"Wow. Busy life."

"That's not all. I ordered some house elves around, ordered some servants around, ordered some financial advisors around, ordered some quidditch players around, and, about a minute ago, I got to order this really irksome Italian around."

"Dumbass."

"Hmm. Yep."

They sat for a moment, drinking in silence before Draco spoke.

"You?"

"What?"

"What about you?"

"What about me, what?"

"Merlin's balls, what about you? How's life, you plebian?"

"Reading that 'insult a day' book again, Draco? But to get back to your question, couldn't be better. Woke up this morning, flirted with some of the better looking servants, had a drink, inappropriately groped one of the interns at the Ministry, had a drink, and then decided to come over and trade insults with you whilst having a drink."

"Ah a day in the life."

"I know, but someone has to do it, and I look so good at the same time."

Draco rolled his eyes, but couldn't complain as he probably would have said the same thing about himself. "I have to tell you something, Blaise."

Blaise sat up straight at the serious tone of Draco's voice.

"What?"

"I think..."

"Draco, what?"

"I think you drowned this hot chocolate in firewhiskey."

"Funny. Because I know that's exactly how you like it."

"It is. Thanks."

"Yeah I know. Shuddup."

"Yes sir."

"Idiot."

"Moron."

"Cretin."

"Ignoramus"

"Halfwit."

"Imbecile."

A comfortable silence ensued as the boys sipped their beverages.

"Hey. You with the vacuous skull."

"What?"

"You know you look like a girl with your hair up like that?"

"Shut up. I hate when it gets in my way."

"Then cut it, genius."

"Hell no."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Easy for gripping." Blaise said smugly.

"Well, you look like a girl."

"Fine." Blaise untied the leather string holding his hair back, letting the jet black curly tresses fall over his shoulders giving him a darker, broodier, and... damn... a more sexy look. Draco gulped and tried to pretend he didn't notice.

"Better, you picky prick?" Blaise asked

"Mmm. Sure. It still needs to be cut. You look horrid." Draco lied smoothly.

"You are just jealous of the hair and all it's glory."

"No. Not jealous of the hair." 'More like, jealous of who ever it is gripping the hair. Wait...what?'

"Sure. By the way, what are those on your feet? I'd call them shoes, but they seem to resemble yachts."

"Fuck you. They're italian."

"Well, it seems like I got all the best that country has to offer, if those shoes are anything to go by." Blaise drawled.

"Alright, you don't like them, I won't wear them. Happy?" Draco grudgingly took of the expensive italian leather shoes and carelessly threw them over his shoulder.

"Much. Please don't tell me that shirt your wearing is italian silk as well, because if so, I'm standing by my earlier claim of me getting all the good from Italy"

Draco scowled and unbuttoned the top, in his slightly tipsy haze, he missed the glittering look Blaise gave him as he stumbled with each button, slowly having to do each one.

"There," the blonde sniped, once the shirt was gone, having tossed it the same way as the shoes. He was left in a light slightly transparent undershirt and his cashmere trousers.

"You didn't have to be so angry about it. I was just commenting on the fact that I am the best thing to come from Italy since the cannoli."

"Yeah? Well, that tee shirt makes you look like trash."

Blaise looked down at his tee-shirt: black with a large rooster and the word "Cocky" written in bright red letters. "I like this shirt!"

"You look like mudblood trash."

"Fine." Blaise peeled the tee shirt off of his very well defined chest.

"I see you ignored the 'always wear an undershirt' rule?"

"Leaves lines."

"Don't wear them that tight, then."

"Why?"

"It's distrac- Uh distracting my house elves... yeah. Look." Draco nodded at the door where a a small house elf carrying a tray of sandwiches was staring at the half-naked boy. The elf dropped the tray on Draco's end table and ran out of the room. Blaise picked up his peanut butter and olive sandwich while Draco grabbed his turkey and swiss. He looked over at Blaise, happily munching on his rather disgusting choice in food.

"Freak." Draco mumbled.

"Unimaginative wacko."

"I am not an unimaginative wacko! Turkey and swiss is a perfectly good sandwich. Besides, peanut butter and olive? What, are you pregnant all of a sudden"

"Like I'd put a body this gorgeous through that! The sandwich is good, Draco"

"Ugh. Unbelievable." he said, still eyeing the naked chest in front of him.

"Draco"

"Yeah"

"Not to sound like a girl or something, but my face is up here." you could definitely hear the smirk in Blaise's voice.

"What? I wasn't staring. I was just looking ahead blankly."

"Is that a question or a statement."

"A statement, why wouldn't it be a statement? I stated that I was not staring at your extremely chisled torso and imagining things. So, see, a statement."

"No one ever even mentioned the words 'extremely chisled', Dray. That was all you."

Draco flushed from the implications.

"I need another drink."

Blaise just laughed and poured his friend a shot of firewhiskey and handed it to him, sitting next to him on the bed now, instead of across from him.

"Drink it straight, maybe that'll help you out."

"Yeah, sure." the blonde hadn't even noticed that his half-naked friend had maneuvered his way next to him and subtly slipped an arm over his shoulder.

"So, Draco. About me being the best thing from Italy since the cannoli...would you like to have really good looking Italian on you?"

Draco smirked. "Not when he's wearing jeans that look like they were made by a drunk blind grizzly bear."

"Hey! These are fashionable."

"Grrrrr..." Draco said, his alcohol getting the better of him as he attempted the growl of a grizzly bear.

Blaise kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his jeans, leaving him in purple silk boxers and socks in an array of striped colors. He pulled one off and waved it in front of Draco's face.

"Do these bother you, too? Huh?"

Draco gulped loudly. "Um. No."

"Good." Blaise tossed the sock over the bed, leaving the other one on.

"Your pants are hideous. And that undershirt looks like it belonged to a twelve year-old"

Still stuck looking at the one stripey sock left in amazement, Draco had barely processed the words before pulling his own pants off and tossing them to the side along with his undershirt.

Deciding to go where he was hoping this was going, Draco wrapped an arm around Blaise's waist and spoke in a husky whisper.

"Trust me, I'm no twelve year-old and I'd be happy to show you how much I despise those purple boxers of yours. So long as you despise my black boxers, too." He trailed his hand to the waistband of Blaise's boxers and left it there. Blaise smirked once again.

"Oh, yes. I definitely hate those boxers you're wearing. I'm absolutely positive that they are hideous on you and must be thrown out. Permanently. Same with my own."

"Glad to see you agree with me, then." Draco by this time had already gotten rid of his boxers and watched half-mesmerized as Blaise removed his. As the darker haired of the two bent forward to pull of the other sock, Draco stopped him with a persistant hand that trailed from Blaise's shoulder down to his thigh.

"Blaise. Keep the sock"

Blaise answered by grinning and pressing a hard kiss to his friend that was currently beneath him.

A/N: So, racheesi and I (ivysnowe) decided that we had to do a oneshot to change it up a little. Besides. What started our friendship was our insane adoration of Blaise (her) and Draco (me) and our fangirlish ways of putting them together. What can we say, we love a gorgeous Slytherin boy. Anyway, we decided that oneshots are fun, so, to have fun and interact with our lovely readers, hows about you guys give us ideas for oneshots. Anything goes, kids, according to racheesi, we're feeling adventurous. Oh, yeah. And that little argument about the sandwiches? The two of us really did have a similar argument and decided to put it in the fic. We're cool like that. So, your mission, should you choose to accept it, give us oneshot ideas.

Kamsahamnida! Thank you!

racheesi and ivysnowe