A/N: Written for nyxxxxx 's My Body part Challenge:

"Blaise. Nose. Inscribe. Hide."

Let me know how I did x)

*Disclaims*

Draco clutched the other boy to him in the dark, panting. It was very cold out now, resulting in the flush that covered the blondes entire face and neck. Still he found it romantic if anything, just to watch the snow fall in white cotton flecks, melting before they hit the freezing ground. Looking out across the lake filled Draco with possibilities, like the night held endless opportunities. The darkness was no longer disconcerting.

What were they doing though? Draco asked himself almost each time they stealed themselves away. And he already knew the answer, same as always. They were hiding, were they not? Not only hiding from the accusations, the expectations, the others. They were hiding from themselves, and it scared the youngest Malfoy about what would happen when they were found.

Because he was still lost.

Blaise gave him that look that meant he was thinking too much though so he pulled himself from his mind, back to the present.

The two leaned against the ground, staring into the vast beyond that was the night sky. Each flake was like a falling star, and Draco dared himself to wish. But he couldn't with all his heart, so there was honestly no point but to find constellations.

Beside him Blaise began his own wishing out loud. Muttering words that were names and passwords, incantations and secrets. Draco heard it all like a song, desperate in the night, music to his ears. He liked that. A cracked heart was one easily mended, and its fathoms were ones easily plumed.

So was it love, or as close to love as he could get?

With their entwined hands Blaise began to scribble in the ground between them, probably making time. He was quite magical so the blonde knew. He shook the silver hair from his silver eyes and began to count the stars.

He was trying to find a reason worth staying.

Blaise then began to trail the features of Draco, the planes that were his alone. When had he been lost?

Hands caressed each sharp feature. They strayed on the wide expanse of smooth skin that made up the forehead. A bit of skull there protected his brain, and therefore his thoughts. It was immaterial but Draco couldn't help thinking it anyway. He kept his thoughts to the chest. His secrets he held to tighter than life.

Next the dark fingers came over his eyes and Draco flicked them shut to avoid the pain- it was involuntary. On the backs of his eyelids he could still see the gentle white cascade down upon him and his partner. Gently each finger ran the length of his lashes, as pale alabaster as the snow.

Why Blaise? Had to be the next question. Why had this man been the one to find him, if find was what he did. To Draco he represented the chance of neutrality. Of choices. Had Blaise come to Draco because fate had led one free-being to an imprisoned one?

So what did Draco want? If not to be found.

His life was like a giant game of hide-and-seek. The older figures finding him, inscribing their ideals, their morals, their expectations and wants of him into his skin. He was the Heir of the Malfoys, and with him in his hidden corner, he carried that weight on his shoulders.

The disembodied hands found his cheeks, the ones with a blush like rose petals, open for the world. But Blaise forgot that no Malfoy was ever open.

His lips were stroked palpably. It was a curious sensation. He liked it, and his likes were limited and picky. A soft pink tongue darted out to taste those dark fingers in contrast.

Blaise touched a finger to the pointed chin so very like his fathers. It was something to despise. Very carefully the boy leaned in to kiss Draco's nose.

A peck.

It was appealing.

All was perception, the blonde let himself think. For were the really hiding? Or was he just closing his eyes, kidding himself. He'd forgot to open them.

And Blaise was now rubbing their noses together in the way of a Muggle Eskimo kiss. How much was his choice? Draco wondered. How much did he manage? Hadn't the world just seemed so full of opportunities? Could he reach out to any he wanted?

It was like the snuffing of a candle though, and Draco had come up with no reason good enough. Snow continued to fall, Blaise continued rubbing his nose in a sensual way against all of Draco he could reach. But Draco wouldn't live forever. And yet he continued to hide.