Disclaimer: Characters? Not mine. Anything to do with Harry Potter? Not mine. Dwarf Spirits? Not mine. Plot? MINE! Ahahahahahaha! Seriously, Harry Potter and all related stuff belong to J.K. Rowling and various affiliates. Dwarf Spirits is a drink I BORROWED from the Dragonlance Series which, obviously, I don't own. Glacier rum is mine, I think; at least I made it up.

Warning: This is SLASH. Male/Male relationships...If you don't swing that way, swing on by to that button up there which says, BACK.

A/N: Woohoo! I've done Draco/Blaise slash. Go me, Go me...Y'all have no idea how hard it is for me to write a one-shot fic. But I did it! Now cower before the awesome... (gets hit on the head with a shoe)...Just read, by the way...oww! And if it makes your day, review.

Cheers!

by: Solstice

Chapter 1: Cheers

I just need you absolutely

all the fears in your mind

I just want you absolutely

to sail this ship of mine

"Stately Lover", Lacuna Coil

It all started as all great romances did, with us getting roaring drunk, well mostly me getting drunk. It was the annual Slytherin Christmas bash, our last. We held it a week before Christmas break, to catch the students before they all went home for the holidays. Pansy had the commons done with the usual gaudy decor. Streamers charmed to change colors were hung in a criss-cross fashion about the ceiling, bells with high-pitched chimes littered the room, our armchairs were charmed to shimmer and we even had a bloody Christmas tree beside the fireplace. The fire would also change color, by the way. I was in charge of the refreshments, as always. And I brought in a good stash, if I do say so myself. The ever lovable butterbeer was available, but for the heavier drinkers I brought in the famed Firewhiskey. But of course, I wouldn't be Blaise if I didn't have a little something extra. From my own personal collection I had a keg of dwarf spirits smuggled in. These babies were not as tough on the throat as the Firewhiskey but would get you drunk in a matter of minutes, if you weren't experienced enough. I, for one, could stand 2 mugs of the thing before getting giddy. This drink was only for the brave. So naturally only Draco and I were drinking the stuff. Pansy was too sophisticated to drink anything but wine, she says. And the two doorknobs called Crabbe and Goyle get drunk with butterbeer.

None of the other seventh years wanted to try after Draco told them about the time his father drank a whole bottle in one sitting, passed out and regained consciousness 3 days later. Of course that wasn't true, it was Snape, with half a bottle of Glacier rum mixed with Vodka, and it was 2 days. I never corrected him. Naturally, I didn't want to clean up after these lemmings after taking swigs at the drink. Did I mention that when not properly downed you could end up seeing you breakfast in a pool around your feet, that is if you could still see your feet. Also, the hangovers are murderous, I really don't fancy explaining to the professors why half of the seventh year population were in the Hospital wing asking for headache medicine. Why then do we drink the stuff? Because it's bloody good, that's why. Me and Draco were sitting in a corner near the fireplace drinking, listening to the music playing and generally soaking up the atmosphere.

"What band is this again?" Draco asks.

"What?" I couldn't hear him over the music.

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "I said what band is this, you lummox."

I turned to face him, our noses nearly touching, his hot breath ghosting across my face. I put on an amused face and simply said, "Dunno..."

He leaned back into his chair and started sipping his drink. I never really noticed how his lips were perfectly shaped, how his blond hair fell teasingly around his eyes, his eyes reflecting the glow of the fireplace mingled with warm silver. He appeared so calm, so refined. He looked up and caught me staring, he quirked one perfect eyebrow up at me.

"Like what you see?" he said, his tone mocking. I faltered for only a moment before shooting back,

"I was just wondering if your sharp nose could possibly slice an apple" I lied.

He rolled his eyes and motioned with his drink to a couple making out in the corner opposite ours.

I looked and tried to figure out who they were.

"Third years," I spat

"Wanna have some fun?" he pulled out his wand, pointed it towards the couple and muttered a spell. I couldn't recognize it, either because my brain was a little muddled or I wasn't paying attention in class again, most probably both. Not as if the spells Draco uses were taught to normal students anyway. A stream of blue light shot out from his wand and snaked its way toward the unsuspecting third years. The girl's hair, from what I could tell from this distance, was slowly coiling around the boy's head. "3, 2, 1..." a scream erupted from the two and they rushed out of the party as quickly as they could.

"Neat trick," I mumbled, inwardly jealous at his skills as a wizard.

"You're just jealous..." he mumbled back

"Nyeh..." I said uncommitedly. I finished my second glass and it automatically filled up with dwarf spirits. I could hear giggling from somewhere, a sort of flirty female giggling. I turned around and saw a group of girls, who had on very revealing dresses and a tad too much makeup, blatantly staring at Draco. I couldn't blame them; he was a sight to see. He was wearing a black silk blouse, with a couple of buttons open exposing a rather tantalizing amount of skin. His trousers were black too and fit very well with his well toned legs. He had on black boots, probably dragon hide. All in all, an all black ensemble, which contrasted perfectly with his pale complexion and blond hair, which wasn't slicked back anymore, thank heavens. He was, to put simply, god-like. He had a slightly muscular built, owing this to Quidditch, more on definition than in bulk. He was tall too, almost 6 feet. He had aristocratic facial features, not unlike my own, and his general pointiness gave him a more elegant look having filled out a bit.

"Those girls are staring at you again," he suddenly spoke which shook me from my reverie. I was slightly shocked at what he said but hid it well. Not that I was any less gorgeous. I was wearing a red fitted turtleneck sweater which clung to my body quite nicely. I had my favorite leather pants on with black boots to match. I gulped down the whole glass and said," Well, you know me, I'm irresistible." I put my glass down and started to rise.

"Where are you going?" he asked in that drawl of his.

"I'm going to ask one of those fine ladies if they would like to dance," I replied surprised at my response. I made that part up, I was going to go to outside for a smoke, but his voice had that challenge to it, daring me to entertain him. I stood there, waiting for his response, stalling.

"I'm going too, no sense in letting you have all the fun. Besides, I would prefer picking the girl for you, you know you have terrible taste in women," he then stood up and swaggered with that walk of his pass me. He put his drink down, on one of the tables, where it magically disappeared. I shook my head with a smirk on my face, he knew I was gay. There was no hiding it after he caught me snogging that Irish Gryffindor. I did put up the bisexual argument but he saw right through me, he always did.

We met even before Hogwarts, when we were 7 years old. Our parents would leave us together with our nannies while they would go out and party. We never got close, only had that silent bond. I wouldn't really call him my friend, I wouldn't know how friends are supposed to be anyway, I never had one. He was just a constant in my life. Have a prank, call Draco; get detention, tell Draco; get pissed off, punch Draco. We would fight, that was for damn sure. Over the smallest things, we would get sent to the hospital wing. We would play pranks on Pomphrey, then the next day we were all buddy-buddy again. I never had a crush on him though, even with my gayness in full swing. I guess he was like a brother, a sniveling, conniving, bratty brother. No, maybe not a brother, I had one of those, he wasn't like that. More of an owl, yeah a little pet owl. I suddenly found myself laughing hysterically at that mental image. I was doubled over with laughing fits. It was then I heard a polite yet irritated cough. I straightened up and saw Draco with two girls at his side. One was blond with laughing blue eyes and a cunning smile. The other one had red hair, sharp brown eyes and the hottest body in the crowd, if only I were straight.

"Blaise this blond beauty here is Criselda..." at this the blond giggled"...and this delicious specimen is Felis," Draco introduced them with his casual flair staring at me the whole time. It was like he was trying to tell me something with his eyes. Either that or he was trying to burn a hole through my skull. I nodded and offered my arm. Criselda took it and I led her towards the dance floor. A slow song, as if on cue, started. I placed my hands on her waist and she placed hers around my neck.

"Blaise Zabini right? I'm Criselda Nimphas, nice to finally meet you." her voice a little too high for my taste, though she did have a sensual tone, trained no doubt.

"And I, am honored to make you acquaintance." I said, not to be outdone on the pleasantries, I was trained too. I suddenly felt my eyes wondering, looking for another blond in the throng of people.

"He's over by the tree," a voice said.

I looked down at Criselda, confusion etched on my face.

"Don't be so shocked. I'm gay too; I can smell my own kind." Criselda said with a sad note in her voice. She was staring at Felis while she was kissing Draco, all decency forgot. I must have stopped moving, breathing. I stared at the couple and felt something dark and sinister coiling around my abdomen. It could have been the dwarf spirits. I shook it off the started to dance with the girls in my arms.

"I'm sure, I don't have a clue as to what you are pertaining to, my dear." I said softly, putting up my aristocrat walls. I hoped she wouldn't see through them. She laughed a bitter laugh tinged with sadness.

"Master Blaise, I would like to sit this one out, if you don't mind." She looked up at me and put her head to one side. She too, had aristocratic walls, of glass it seemed. I saw it in her eyes.

"No problem, go rest. In the morning get your cat, cuddle and lock her in a cage, I don't like cats roaming around. I'm deathly allergic."

With that we parted, her, back to her friends, me straight to the bar.

Somehow I found myself wandering the halls with a rather large bottle of something in my hand. I was probably drunk; I sort of remember emptying my keg of dwarf spirits. I swayed from side to side navigating rather poorly in the moonlight. The windows hardly gave any. The torches kept flickering off and on, off and on. I swung my bottle at one, missed and fell to the floor with a thud. I was laughing again. Why? I really don't know. Then I felt moisture on my cheeks, that stopped my maniac laughter. I swiped my index finger over it and examined it in the very poor lighting conditions. I started laughing again. This time, I knew why. There was something comic about realizing you're partly human. Ha! More like hardly human. I was rolling on the floor with laughter. The bottle, apparently without its cork spilled its contents on my sleeve. Dammit! I stood up and started walking again, trying unsuccessfully to rid my sleeve of liquid. I trudged forth with a blurry impression of going somewhere. My feet were walking but my brain was left behind at the party, in those silvery eyes, those red lips, all over that redheaded...I vomited on my new shoes. Great, just great. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, the dry one, and gulped down whatever was inside my bottle. Ahh...Firewhiskey. I probably nicked one from the party. I just remembered mixing drinks made you more susceptible to drunkenness, ha ha drunkenness. I dimly registered the fact that I was humming something, a tune my mum taught me. Hmm...mockingbird don't...hmmmm...diamond ring...lalalalalala...glass.

It seemed like I was walking forever, turning at this corner, going up that stairway, I was practically lost. It was then that I realized I was in a long corridor with no doors on either side. I kept walking, somehow knowing there was a door at the end, that this corridor led to a dead end. I hopped the rest of the way and with my poor balance, I tripped half the time. I got to the end of the corridor and voila! There was a door, probably leading to a room. I pulled on the handle, it wouldn't budge. I put my bottle down and practically attacked the door. Then I remembered...duh. I pushed the door and it opened. I picked up my drink and went inside. It used to be a storage room, I think. There were boxes on one side of the room stacked haphazardly. I closed the door behind me and walked to the window on the far side of the room. It was huge. And I mean really, really big. I opened it and let the winter breeze in. It was more of a winter draft than a winter breeze. Snow started coming in through the open window. I stared out into the night. I had no idea why I wanted the window open. I guess I didn't like the feeling of being cooped up. Plus, if I ever have the urge to commit suicide, hey open window. I headed towards the wall opposite the boxes for obvious reasons. I sat down with my legs crossed and the bottle in between them. I blew at a stray lock of hair that found its was to my face after which taking another swig from my mystery bottle.

I found this room when I was in my third year, or maybe it was my fourth, couldn't recall at the moment. I was coming down from detention with McGonagall, the hag, when the stairway I was on started to move. It was after midnight so I was a bit drowsy; I need my sleep you know. I did the only thing I could, I went up the stairs. I know the Slyhterin dorms are generally in the lower parts of the castle, but hey it was past midnight and I was drowsy. Anyway, the stairs led me to this corridor. I was about to head back when I heard footsteps. Small, feline footsteps. I ran the length of the corridor, and found this room. It was locked and I did the Alohamora thing, which did not work. I took out my knife, yes I had a knife, and pried the door open. I closed it behind me and sat down, with my back pressed firmly against the door. I remember putting my head in my hands, the adrenaline still pumping in my veins. I slowed my breathing down and explored the room. When I found that it was safe, apart from the boxes, I took off my cloak and spread it on the floor. I curled up and slept. I know I could have gotten back to my dorms and lain in my soft bed, but it was after midnight and I was drowsy. All throughout my reminiscing of course, I was drinking the Firewhiskey. I held it up to the light. Damn, its empty.

It was probably past 2 in the morning. I somehow found the mental capacity to charm my bottle into refilling itself. Of course, it would turn into different drinks each time but hey, minor set back. There was a creak and a shadow emerged from the door. I'm hallucinating, I'm hallucinating, I will probably be sent to St. Mungo's, too much alcohol, la la la la la mockingbird...the shadow solidified into a figure, the figure focused into a person. The person turned into Draco Malfoy. He leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. In retrospect, a very sexy pose.

"I knew I'd find you here," he said as if it was by his will that I was here. I didn't respond, instead I brought the bottle to my lips and tipped it. I didn't even look in his direction.

"You left without telling anyone, I thought you were going to make out with that blond," his tone was snickering, I could feel it. I snorted, another silly joke at the expense of Blaise, har har. He sat down beside me to my left, he had his knees up and he draped his elbows over them. I tilted my head back until it made contact with the wall. I brought up the bottle, ready to drink. He grabbed it and drank.

"Butterbeer? Pathetic."

I grabbed it back, swished it a bit and gave it back to him. He stared at me, with that damn eyebrow up and drank again.

"Vodka, now that's more like it."

Now all this transpired with me saying nothing and staring at a spider's web at a corner. I was surprisingly sobered up, or at least catatonic.

"Apparently, me and that Felis are dating. Can you imagine? She might be a good shag but nothing really long term. I'll stretch it out of course, seduce her a bit, until she's begging me to have her. Ha! Then of course the actual shag, then I'll dump her...or better yet I'll satisfy myself, then dump her. What do you think?" He liked telling me of his sexual rendezvoussusess...encounters with random people. I used to listen with an eager ear, that is before that ear got bored and decided to be licked by an Irish Gryffindor.

He put the bottle down on his left side, away from me. He was looking at me, I could feel his eyes on my face, on my lips. I extended my left hand to him, palm up. I was asking for the bottle. He slapped my hand away.

"Don't you dare ignore me Zabini." There was a tightness to his voice. The spoiled prince always got what he wanted, I almost forgot. I didn't really trust myself to speak at that moment. There was no assurance I was going to say something sensible, or even audible. I just shrugged. I extended my arm again, I really needed a drink.

"You are pathetic, you know that? Is there nothing else in that head of yours but booze? Honestly." He was trying to infuriate me again, trying to lure me into another fight. I lowered my arm and turned my head to look at him. The cold of the room put a flush of color to his cheeks. His eyes were clear and...pretty, for lack of a better word, I was still drunk. His hair, now horribly tangled because of the redhead, was sticking up randomly, some locks fell to his face framing it in a golden halo. Without thinking, I moved closer to him, closer until I could feel his breath on my lips. I licked them, my lips that is, and leaned in. I saw the darkness reflected in his eyes, so much darkness. And with my right hand, made a grab for my bottle. He snatched it away before my fingers even brushed over it, damn seeker reflexes. This of course caused me to lose my balance and fall onto his lap. He snorted and drank from my bottle. I was too embarrassed, or too drunk to get up, so I stayed there, unceremoniously sprawled on his lap. My chest was pressed firmly on his thigh, my forehead touching the cool floor. My right arm was squashed under me while my left was stretched in a way that my elbow was hovering near my ear, it was a balance thing.

"Get up," he commanded.

"No," I said to the floor.

"Come on don't be such a child."

"mmmmmbottle."

"What?" he said while poking me in the ribs. I turned to face him, my right side being the only thing in contact with him. I rested my head on my right hand which was propped up by my right elbow.

"I want my bottle," I said. Yes I was childish but being drunk and desperate gave you little other options. I had my left hand out again, palm facing up, damn I was thirsty. He had that evil glint in his eye again. I inwardly groaned, he was going to do something that would make me want to hit him.

He smashed my bottle against the wall, all the while staring at me. The fragments of glass fell down in sickenly slow motion. The sound from the falling shards hitting the stone floor was deafening to my ears. He threw the neck of the bottle away. It took me a while to register what had happened. Dracosmashedmybottle. Draco smashedmybottle. Draco smashedmy bottle. Draco SMASHED my BOTTLE! That did it; I lunged at him with my full weight. I was a little sluggish, so I wasn't surprised when he caught my wrists. What surprised me was his level of soberness. Sure, he drank a whole continent less than I did, but he still had mixed drinks in his system. His eyes showed nothing of the drunkenness reflected from my own. He was smiling that smirk of his. I was in a rage, I was breathing heavily and I was straddling his legs with my own.

"What is wrong with you?" He was mocking me, he was asking in that mocking tone.

"YOU SMASHED MY BOTTLE, YOU DUMBASS!" I yelled at him. I was later surprised that all the words came out right.

"And you have really bad breath," he stated matter-of-factly. He mumbled something and I felt minty goodness in my mouth. Damn him. I calmed down a bit, losing my drive. I would just have to get another bottle then, easy solution. Now, if he would just let go of my hands.

"Let go of my hands," I wasn't looking at him, rather at his very well manicured nails which were digging into my flesh.

"No," he replied

"No?" I inquired, curiosity coupled with stupidity made a good team.

"No." he said this as if it were the law.

"And pray tell, why not?" I was getting tired, I wanted some alcohol, and I was feeling strangely warm in this almost below zero room.

"Because..." then he kissed me. It was light, almost wasn't there, but it was, I wish it wasn't, but damn it was. He tasted of alcohol, sweet, sweet alcohol. Spices assaulted my sense of smell. He was blasphemously gentle, feathers left more pressure than he did. Time stopped. And not the romantic slowing down of time that made the moment stretch until forever. Time stopped, along with my heartbeat and brain functions. His lips were cold and bitter, yet filled with something I couldn't quite recognize. I surrendered into the kiss ever so gently. I wasn't like I was kissing him back, but I wasn't pushing him away either. He leaned back and let go of my wrists with a smirk planted firmly on those delicious lips. I slowly got off him and sat in my original space. I couldn't think, and it wasn't the drunken fog, but the sober bang. My mind was a blank so I said the dumbest thing I could think of,

"What? No tongue?"

He started to chuckle, then that turned into suppressed giggles and then, outright guffaws. Maybe I was wrong, maybe he was drunk. He wouldn't stop laughing. I stood up, dusted myself off and headed for the window. There was a small pile of snow forming below the window, I wiggled my shoes in it. I leaned my elbows on the window sill, my back to the outside world and waited for Draco to stop laughing. My shadow was cast on the floor; I was blocking our only light source. Draco had his head buried between his knees, his shoulders shaking. Ha ha, very funny, you can shut up now. He was partially hidden in the darkness. Moonlight hardly did anything to cast out the shadows in this room. I could assume that snow was piling up on my shoulders now. My fingers were beginning to feel numb from the cold. Draco was suddenly silent. He looked up at me, or rather past me, out the window.

"Had a good chuckle, did we?" Silences made me want to fill it up with stupid words. He started to rise. Now he was saying nothing and staring into space.

"May I just say, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" I was trying to sound nonchalant, and failed miserablely. I ran a shaking hand through my hair. Draco was walking toward me now. Oh God, oh god, oh god, I really need a drink. He stopped beside me to my right, facing out of the window. He was nothing short of heavenly in the moonlight. His hair caught the moon beams and his eyes sparkled, rivaling the stars. Yes, I was staring at him. He then turned towards me, lifted his arm and dusted off some of the snow from my shoulders. He did this very, very slowly, his hand lingering on my neck. He then proceeded to caress my left cheek. How his hand traveled from point A to B without me noticing, I would never know. Draco was leaning in now; I could feel him shiver from the cold.

"Draco..." I said weakly. He reached over and successfully shut the window behind me. I almost died with relief.

"I never did get you fascination with the cold, Zabini."

"Don't worry, I don't either," I remarked, having absolutely nothing else to say.

He turned fully and mimicked my pose. We were silent for a while. And you know what that means.

"So, how did you find me?" I was really curious. I never told him about this place and it took me two nights of unconscious thought to find it.

"I just followed the smell of booze," he replied, the atmosphere losing some of its tension.

"Very funny, good booze or bad booze?" It was the alcohol talking, I swear.

"I just kissed you..."

"Yeah, I think I was there."

"I just kissed you and all you could think about is booze. Typical."

"Look its not like anything changed, right. I'm still Blaise and you're still Draco. I like booze and you like sex. Just because you may or may not have kissed me doesn't change anything. It could have just been a drunken misunderstanding."

"So, you wouldn't mind if we had wild drunken sex right now as long as it's drunken sex."

"Yes." At this he looked at me and quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean, no. Are you making me think?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"Not more than your brain can handle, I hope," he drawled.

Somehow the feel of the room turned from tense to awkward to friendly in a matter of moments. We were face to face and I wanted the window open again. Heat was radiating off him in waves. He took a step forward, closing the gap between us. I was a little shorter than him.

"Here's to drunken misunderstandings then..." Draco grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in for a rough kiss. This one kicked the first one's ass. It was passionate and had Draco shoving his tongue down my throat. It took me a moment of hesitation but I decided what the hell, I could always blame alcohol and kissed him back. He was pushing me against the frigid window, which by the way was not very comfortable. His other hand started its journey down where it encircled my waist, pulling my infinitely closer to the hot body that was Draco Malfoy. Both my hands were on either side of me gripping the windowsill and trying to maintain balance, I did not want to fall down god knows how many feet, thank you very much. He started biting my lower lip which made me moan. Damn it, I do not moan. I felt him smile while he assaulted my mouth again. Having no control of the situation whatsoever, I could only close my eyes as he made a trail of wet kisses along my jaw line. He made his way down, when skin turned into cloth at my neck.

"You know," he murmured into my skin, "I've always hated turtleneck sweaters."

He came back up and kissed me again. The hand on my nape was twirling its fingers around my hair. His touches were weakening me. Everywhere he made contact with my body seemed to sing. I could fell my reserve slipping. I have to stop, I have to stop, I have to stop...I tempted fate and let go of the windowsill. My hands traveled up his chest and stopped on his shoulders. I pushed gently, not wanting to offend him.

"Draco, Draco...mhmmm, stop," I said in between kisses.

"I thought...you said...this was...okay," he replied. I pushed him off roughly, breaking the intense connection of our lips. I almost regretted it when the separation left me feeling cold all over. He lost his balance for a bit but then stood tall and proud again.

"Don't be such a tease Zabini, I won't beg." The way he said this and the way he was carrying himself was like he decided to put up more layers of ice between us.

"Look, I don't want to ruin what we had before." My god, my stupidity just rose ten points.

"And what did we have before?" he asked, his voice coming just above a whisper.

"I don't know, some kind of friendship maybe, but the point is after this, what do we have now?" My mouth just won't shut up.

"Nothing." He was heading towards the door.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing more than we had." He just stood there, facing the door, back towards me.

"So, what, you snog me whenever you feel like it then turn around and pretend like nothing happened."

"You said it yourself, nothing changed. I'm still Draco, and you're still Blaise."

"Right, okay," I said returning to the old Blaise, "Just one question."

"Shoot."

"Are you gay?"

He opened the door. He took a step forward. Before leaving, he looked back, almost tossing his hair and said, "Bisexual."