PAIRING: Ron/Draco Slash
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Many, many thanks to Pinkdragyn042 for the brilliant beta work.

I'm so sorry I hadn't updated this fic for almost half a year! I hope someone is still interested.
Thanks so much for the comments. Diosa, I think I'll stick with Draco's POV. I think writing in Ron's POV might be sort of a giveaway. Thanks for asking!

Chapter 8

Draco looked himself in the mirror as the stylist adjusted his robes. It was the third day of the show here in Milan. Shortly, Draco would be walking down the runway for the first time that day for one of the most fast-rising designers in Europe. A moderate sense of tension and concentration were what he needed.

Don't think about it, hesaid silently to his reflection in the mirror. Lately, he'd been losing his peace of mind. He remembered that he'd felt at least a bit more secure and calm a couple of months ago - before running into Ron again after two years, that is.

Draco sighed. If he allowed himself to ruminate too much on the almost sweet encounter he had had with the redhead three days ago, heat would start rising up his body, and an unwanted tinge of pink would crawl up his cheeks. That would ruin his cool, beautiful look.

After he had met and kissed Ron in the dimly lit staircase of his model agency building, he wasn't supposed to have so much time to think back on what had happened. He had to pack his things and take the cross-border Portkey to Milan. He had checked into the Candele Incantate, a wizarding hotel in the center of the city. Then he had to attend the rehearsal for the shows he was to be in, for fourteen different designers for four consecutive days.

It wasn't a problem when he was kept occupied, but when he inadvertently let his guard down, that memory would creep into the narrow crevice of his mind and penetrate through him, whether he liked it or not.

Usually, traveling to places like Milan or Paris was his favorite part of the job. He enjoyed the cuisine and he liked the different interior styles of the suites he stayed in. But this time, he couldn't help feeling that he'd left something behind, and it made him feel restless. It didn't help that various questions whirled in his mind.

Draco knew exactly who to blame. Ron had said it was to prove that he wasn't a bad kisser that he'd kissed Draco. But seriously, would you ever kiss someone, especially of the same gender, if you didn't feel at least a tiny bit of attraction towards that person?

This thought brought sweet hopes to him. He would have to find out about this when he was done with the show. Two more days to go, and he'd be Portkeying straight back to London.

The change of background music heard from the venue brought the blond back to reality. It was the start of the show.

Walking down the long runway with other models following, Draco was showered with flashes of lights from the cameras. He felt all eyes on him, as the soft silk fabric of his white shirt and black trousers caressed his skin. Draco swore that wizard clothes these days were getting a lot simpler and functional than ten years ago. They looked almost similar to Muggle clothes, like the ones Ron had worn for the Quibbler, tight and loose in all the right places. Draco bit his bottom lip. Now was not the right time to think about that.

It was always the audience who turned their faces to Draco, and not he to them. However, that didn't mean he was unconscious to the people who came to see the show or to their responses. He would take in the faces of the audience from the corner of his eye, all the while keeping his face expressionless. It was rare that anything or anyone, even the influential and well-known faces in the fashion industry, would actually catch his attention.

When Draco turned and changed his direction at the end of the runway, he caught a glimpse of something red near the distant wall. Draco dared to look. He felt his heart give a throb. It was none other than Ron Weasley. He was standing at the back of the venue, just in front of the wall, arms crossed.

When their eyes met, Ron raised an eyebrow. That small gesture of acknowledgement sent shivers down Draco's spine. Not allowing himself to show any signs of shock on his face, he walked back to the runway entrance, heading backstage.

What is he doing here?

He needed to ask Blaise, now, but of course, there wasn't any time or means to Floo him in the middle of a show. He was to quickly change into his second outfit, and after that, he had to have his hair and makeup all redone for a different designer.

Holding back the uneasy feeling, Draco walked down the catwalk several more times that day, and every time he came closest to where Ron stood, he had to make sure to avoid looking at the redhead.

When the show was finally over for the day, Draco strode straight back to the backstage area. He felt adrenaline rush through him.

Why didn't Blaise tell me that he was sending Weasley in? Draco couldn't help suspecting that Blaise knew everything and that he was secretly enjoying Draco's reaction to all this.

Pissed, he walked up to his clothes rack to change, but was blocked by a familiar figure. This time, he was not surprised by the sudden appearance of another unexpected wizard. Draco looked daggers at the cause of his irritation.

"Blaise. I thought you had meetings you couldn't miss in London."

Blaise raised his eyebrows, as if to say he had no clue as to why Draco was in such a foul mood. "I did. But it's all settled. You know I have to make sure my boys are doing alright."

"Does that include Weasley?" spat out Draco.

"Oh, you met him already, have you. Actually, he Portkeyed here with me just an hour ago." Blaise gave a vague smile.

"What did you bring that for? Don't tell me he's in the show." Draco couldn't even try to hide the aggravation in his voice.

"He's not. At least not in this one. I just wanted to show him around so he gets an idea of what it's like to be in a show, because you know, he'll be doing it himself sometime soon. And there are people I want him to meet. Connections are always important."

"That is an utter waste of Galleons," snapped Draco.

"It's called investment."

Draco looked up at Blaise, eyebrows knitted together. "Do you seriously think he's worth it?"

"Yeah, I do. And it's not just for him, you know, the reason I brought him here? I thought you'd be more pleased."

Draco saw Blaise's eyes twinkle mischievously. Now there was no doubt as to what Draco'd been dreading. He hated it when people thought they could play an ickle cupid or a matchmaker or whatever they wanted to call themselves.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Draco, before taking off his jacket and starting to change. He was in no mood to be teased by Blaise. Just as he threw the jacket randomly on the rack, he heard Blaise say, "You don't?"

When Draco lifted his chin up to give a sharp glare at Blaise, his eyes caught something red over Blaise's shoulder. The said redhead was standing near one of the exits, talking with an unfamiliar guy who was almost as tall as Ron. From his posture and what he was wearing, Draco could tell that he, too, was a model. Draco didn't like the slick black hair nor the amiable smile plastered on the guy's face at all. In Draco's eyes, the bloke looked as if he was batting his eyelashes at Ron in a way that could be called overly flirting.

Completely forgetting about Blaise and the conversation he was having with him, Draco took big strides towards the two. He made a sudden stop in front of the two lads, causing the redhead to look up and mouth 'Malfoy,' wide-eyed. Draco ignored the "Hey, it was a great show today" said to him in an Italian accent from the other model, and scowled at Ron.

"Are you aware that you're blocking the exit, Weasley? How dense can you get, idiot?"

Even as he said that, Draco couldn't help noticing that Ron looked a bit more stylish each time he saw him. Maybe it had to do something with the way he wore his hair, or the new clothes he earned from modeling. Anyway, it was disturbing. It wasn't right for a Weasel to look stylish.

Ron, after blinking once, said a small 'Oh' and stepped to the side. Seeing that the redhead still didn't seem to leave the spot, Draco got even more pissed.

"Weasel, you better go back to Blaise, NOW. He's been looking for you. He didn't bring you all the way to Milan so that you could pick up blokes."

Of course Draco knew that it was the Italian guy who was trying to hit on Ron, but he also knew how to push the redhead's buttons. Not surprisingly, Ron turned crimson, flicking a flustered glance at the Italian model. "What?! I was not-"

Draco quickly retreated before Ron could complete his sentence, knowing that the redhead would follow him.

"Malfoy, you twat! You just made him think I'm a queer."

Draco smirked as he walked, hearing Ron's voice from behind, and glanced over his shoulder.

"Well, you sure look like one," he said, and turned back front. He could hear Ron practically huffing.

"I. DO. NOT, flasher."

"What?" Draco asked back.

"I said FLASHER. Did you know you're unnecessarily showing yourself off?"

Draco looked down at himself. Oh. He'd forgotten he was in the middle of changing. All the buttons on his shirt were open, showing his bare chest. It was nothing. Naked models were seen everywhere backstage, constantly changing their clothes. But apparently, Ron wasn't used to this.

"Like what you see, Weasley?" Draco gave his best smirk to Ron. The other boy quickly made an exaggerated disgusted face.

"Do us a favour and button your shirt before you get arrested on obscenity charges, Malfoy. Where's Zabini anyway?"

Ron started looking around, and Draco then noticed that Blaise wasn't where he had been a couple of minutes ago.

"Do you know where Blaise has gone? He's the guy who's been talking to me just a while ago," asked Draco to the make-up staff who'd been pointing her wand at the vanity and putting the cosmetics back in a box.

"Oh, I saw him leave with another man," she said, slightly smiling when she realized who the inquirer was. Seeing Draco's questioning look, she then added, "He seemed like an editor."

That was when it clicked to him that Blaise had probably set it up. Draco clicked his tongue. He wished that Blaise would just leave him alone.

When he looked back at Ron, the redhead was looking at him reproachfully.

"And you said he was looking for me," said Ron. "You know what, Malfoy? This is not the first time you lied to me that Zabini wanted to see me."

Draco knew Ron was talking about the excuse he had made up when the redhead was about to get sexually harassed, unknowingly, by the infamous Terry Boot some time ago.

"Don't you call me a liar, Weasel. He really was looking for you. Don't you know he has other priorities over you?" Draco retorted.

"Whatever. Doesn't make any difference that he's not here. I'm getting out of here and going straight to bed. That git routed me out of bed and forced me to take the bloody Portkey here."

With that, the redhead turned on his heels to leave. Draco quickly grabbed his arm.

"Do you even know where you're going?"

"What do you mean do I know where I'm going? Of course I do. I'm going straight to the hotel and-"

Ron stopped in mid-sentence and turned slightly pale. Draco sighed. He remembered Blaise had said that he and Ron had taken the cross-border Portkey straight to this place just an hour ago. Draco guessed it right that Ron didn't know which hotel he was supposed to be staying at, if Blaise had remembered to book a room for him, that is.

"You, wait there till I get dressed." Draco pointed at the spot Ron was standing. He heard the redhead groan.

- TBC -