Draco stomped into the living room, a towel haphazardly flung around his slippery waist, thoroughly irritated.
"You are such an annoying cow."
Harry Potter emerged soon after, not in a mature frame of mind.
"Your FACE is an annoying cow."
Draco was used to this sort of thing.
"You look like crap."
So was Harry.
"Your FACE looks like crap."
Doesn't mean it stops them from getting pissed off.
"Did you know that you are the most INSUFFERABLE THING ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH?"
"Your FACE is the most insufferable thing on the face of the earth."
"What are you, eight years old?"
"Your FACE is eight years old."
Draco threw his arms up into the air with a little huff of frustration, and then proceeded to mutter, "Of course, of course I would be the person to end up with an idiot for a boyfriend."
Harry, offended, leapt of the couch and started screeching at an inaudible frequency (one, Draco was sure, only mandrakes would be able to comprehend). He was making such dizzying hand gestures that Draco was forced to avert his eyes in order to avoid motion sickness.
Once Harry had finished his shrieking, and his face was an attractive color resembling tomato soup, Draco just looked up at Harry whose chest was rising and falling with every panting attempt to regain his breath.
Draco felt himself become extremely turned on.
He smirked.
Harry calmed down.
They then proceeded to do each other.
See, now this is why they fought.