Disclaimer: Blaise, Harry and any other character mentioned here belong to JK Rowling.
This is the product of a mind desperate to write once again. Ignores HBP.
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Blaise knew he was beautiful. It was what made people pay attention to him, which then earned him their respect. Thick dark hair, slanted amber eyes, tall, lithe frame and aristocratic features - that was him in a nutshell, coupled with a sharp mind and a keen eye.
Harry Potter was not beautiful. Most people would turn his average image into one of a god, but Blaise's sharp eye saw the unfortunate truth. Harry Potter was a scrawny, bed-headed midget with an ugly curse scar and equally ugly glasses. The only thing about him that was beautiful was his eyes and that wasn't much to go on.
One thing Blaise had learned from his mother was that beautiful people belonged together. Potter was certainly not beautiful so why were they together?
Every time they met up Blaise would open his mouth to tell the other boy they had to stop whatever they had. But then Potter's lips would seek his own and thin arms would twine around his neck. His own arms would lock around the skinny waist and they'd stay like that for quite awhile.
One day Blaise made a decision. He would - finally - tell Potter it was over. This - whatever it was between them - had to stop. He strode to their meeting place, steeling himself against whatever Potter reaction would be. Tears, wounded eyes, anger - it could be any of the three.
But when he opened his mouth to do the deed, Potter resignedly, he faltered.
And then came to a final decision.
"Ah, fuck it. Come here Potter."
