Disclaimer: Meh, you all know I don't own this. Alternatively, you're just plain dumb.
Warning: Contains boyXboy stuff. It's really not that bad- though there is some implied stuff, I suppose- and you wouldn't really be here if you didn't like that sort of thing, you kinky devil, you!
A/N: Woo! It's me again, with yet another fluffy little oneshot for you. I have to say, writing it was a blast! I adore these two, and all their little Slytherin peculiarities. Simply wonderful! Anyway, this one was, like Badgering A Friend, written for a friend of mine called Elsie, and was originally entitled Elsie's Wonderful Draco/ Blaise Fic!!! Kind of catchier, am I right? Oh, by the way, the actual title is in reference to the flamingos…sorry. Anyway, this one's also for her. So…
Dedication: Elsie! My sweetcake, my pumpkin- shut up and eat your treacle, old chum. I know I didn't have enough money for a real present, but chin up, old boy! Stiff upper lip and all that! We are English after all; don't want to let the side down, what what? Cheerio, old buddy, old pal, and enjoy the reading!
Draco In Wonderland
"Come on now, Malfoy. It's time to make your move. What's it going to be?"
The slim blond boy smirked, apparently totally relaxed. His companion narrowed his dark eyes impatiently. The silence stretched on.
"You can't break my concentration, Zabini. You should know by now that there's no hope of my losing."
The tension was almost palpable. Zabini's hand twitched involuntarily, and Draco swung.
"Ah, no way! Why, Draco, why? No way can you be this good at croquet."
Draco held his hands out, shrugging a little, croquet mallet still grasped loosely. He smiled faintly, saying, "Well, you try practising with a father who hexes you if you miss and see how good you get."
Blaise chuckled, hoping sincerely that this was a joke, and squinted into the sun once more.
"This is getting really annoying. Shall we go back inside now? You've already won all five of the games."
"Alright then. I don't want to burn anyway. Do you know how difficult it is to keep my skin looking this good?" The two boys turned, and walked back towards the imposing presence that was Malfoy Manor, pausing only to throw a little food to the flamingos.
Dinner was an interesting affair that night. As the other three- Draco, Blaise and Narcissa- sat eating quietly, Lucius amused them with tales of his youth.
"Yes, yes, those were the days. Purebloods got the proper respect back then. None of this namby-pamby equality nonsense, none of this 'let's accept the mudbloods' foolishness. Oh no!
"Of course, that was such a long time ago, as my father would always say. I grew up in an entirely different age. Why, I remember one particular mudblood boy who was in my year when I attended Hogwarts. Surprisingly intelligent boy considering his lineage. Amazing hair too, and skin- both very soft. I tried to torture the secret out of him one night, but he simply wouldn't give in. Most annoying. Naturally, I had to dump him- um, denounce him after that. Never a good word about him or his moisturisation ever passed my lips again. Until just now, obviously."
Blaise nudged Draco's leg meaningfully under the table at this, but he remained utterly poker faced- he refused to accept Blaise's ridiculous theories on his father, most especially the ones concerning his apparent infatuation with his cane. Indeed, his only reaction was to push the boy's hand off his leg, where it had inexplicably rested when he refused to react. Blaise was forever doing that sort of thing, giving Draco had the distinct impression that he rather liked him. Whether or not the feelings were returned was irrelevant- Draco simply loved to tease the boy.
In fact, he did so now, trailing a hand lazily up his leg.
"Draco dear, not at the table, please," his mother sighed, fixing him with a gaze that said all to clearly 'I'm used to this sort of thing. It happens with your father all the time.' Blaise, of course, pointed this out the moment they had left the dining room. Draco, of course, said nothing.
"Accio broom," Draco intoned, clearly. His Nimbus Two-thousand-and-one sped into his hand, and he mounted it with ease, kicking off from the ground and up to the height of the second floor. Looking down, he shouted at Blaise to hurry up and join him. Within a few seconds, they were both in the air, flying around the manor and laughing- in an entirely Slytherin manner, naturally.
Pulling to a halt, Draco pointed out the muggle village far in the distance.
"I flew over there once," he grinned. "Scared the living daylights out of all the stupid muggles, but that's to be expected. Obviously, the clean up was massive, and father was most displeased- well, in public at least- but it was worth it. It was brilliant fun."
Blaise smiled indulgently at his friend. Quietly, he asked, "You really enjoy flying, don't you?"
"Of course I do! It's just such an amazing feeling, you know? It's so- so freeing, I think is the best word for it, and it's absolutely indescribable how it feels to catch the snitch in a game situation"
This time Blaise's smile was utterly wicked.
Leaning forward, he whispered into Draco's ear, "You know, they say Quidditch players are bad in bed- they only know how to mount a broom. And seekers are the worst, of course, what with only being used to handling small balls," Draco turned bright pink, and Blaise continued, "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend your ever delicate sensibilities, Draco. But you have to admit, they may have a point…"
Tossing his head back, the blond retorted, "Of course they don't. But, before you ask, I'm absolutely not going to prove it too you." He flew off at speed, laughing at the dejected expression on the other's face. Honestly, Blaise could be such a playboy at times. But, well, it was funny.
That night, Draco found it hard to sleep, lying there veritably buzzing with excitement. It made such a difference having a friend in the manor in the summer holidays- whereas they usually stretched out almost endlessly, they now seemed to be passing at a rate of knots. It was only two weeks until they were back to school, which appeared to him to be utterly preposterous. He hadn't done even half of what he wanted to do yet.
Apart from anything, he hadn't teased Blaise nearly enough, and it was becoming harder and harder to restrain himself. When they had been flying that day and his smooth, dark hair had been all dishevelled, and his eyes were alive with the excitement of being in the air, it was only the suicidal aspect of the notion that stopped Draco jumping on him. Really, where was his Malfoy restraint? He was almost ashamed of himself.
There was a small squeak, and a sliver of light cut across the darkness. Sitting up in his huge bed, Draco looked towards the door, wondering who it was. He grinned, amusedly.
"Blaise, I was just thinking about you."
"Always good to hear." He crossed the room, having closed the door quietly behind him. He stopped by the bed and whispered, "Mind if I join you?"
Looking towards the shape in the darkness, Draco drawled, "I guess not. Just don't get any- ideas, Zabini." He could have sworn he saw a smirk as the boy pulled back the covers and climbed in, but that would of course be impossible.
Turning to face the other boy, Blaise muttered, "You know, you really are impossible, Draco. I mean, I practically throw myself at you and nine times out of ten, you push me away. Do you have any idea how confused that one time makes me? If it was a definite no, I could live with it, but you, you just like to-"
"-tease me," they said in unison, before grinning like the schoolboys they were, after all.
Draco couldn't help it. It was just too tempting. He reached a hand out to Blaise's cheek- luckily not poking him in the eye, which would have been inordinately embarrassing- and rested it there. He could feel it as Blaise smiled anew, and drew towards him. Their lips brushed briefly before he pulled away.
"You know, it really is just teasing," he murmured, childish glee evident by his tone.
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"…Okay."
Narcissa Malfoy stepped into her only son's room silently, blinked slowly and stepped out again, pulling the door quietly shut behind her. Her expression unchanged, she made her way back down the hall, towards the library, to look up how exactly to disown one's child in a legal context.
