25. Party and Prude
FOR: Alaie~ and this does not even need an explanation. Just… thank you.
A genuine apology, for those who care:
I'm in uni. And I'm writing on a chapter of which I'd realised: this could be the last and that would be fine. Except that it wouldn't be, not for me.
I'm having trouble adjusting to my new life. And it doesn't help that my latest chapter has a sex scene and is… what can I say, possibly the most crucial chapter of all? It's one of those "plot thickens" chapters, except that not a lot thickens and it is more of an explanation or salvation or whatever.
Okay… you'll get it when you get to chapter 29.
For now I can just say that I am sorry for not updating in over a year, definitely since I always have chapters to update and I couldn't even bring myself to do that… But it's here now~ and I try –tryyyyy !- to work hard on chapter 29, and when that has finished completely, and I've successfully began chapter 30, I'll update the next chappy !
TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED OR PM'ED, BEING WORRIED OR GENERALLY JUST BEING NICE: thank you so much ! Like I said before, I'm having some problems right now, and I've overall been a not-so-happy person and that has been reflecting on my work, which basically means that besides not feeling good enough, now also my work felt not good enough, so I neglected updating and all of that…
There will be a day when you will all receive review and pm replies ! For now, all these people who have been so kind to me, you know who you are, and just know that even though I don't know your names and I don't know your faces, each and every one of your reviews and replies has helped me so much ! THANK YOU !
Now ! On with it !
AN: 10 sounds a lot, but there's two of them, so that only makes 5, and I believe that that is perfectly doable, I mean, I've reached over five, but then again I am a girl so I figure it works different, but still, hey, it's Blaise, if that bitch can't pull off 5, no bitch can! You'll get it when you get there, and then you'll realise how disturbingly too much info that was. Oh yeah, feel it.
Having lunch with all the Weasleys was much more fun with Ron's hand posed permanently on his thigh. Everyone was a bit wary of him, after seeing him cry, but he just ignored them. He sat next to Sirius as well, who constantly threw him grins, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close at random moments. Draco knew he wanted to say something, but that he couldn't with all the other people around. There would soon be time enough, when the Weasleys went home in the weekend, and Draco was prepared to resist his curiosity for the time being.
Tonks sat next to Ginny, with her eyes fixed on Remus. She followed the interaction between the two carefully, even though they ignored her. They didn't actually kiss, but Sirius held Remus' hand and sometimes pecked his neck. It was actually too sweet for Draco to watch, but then Ron would squeeze his thigh and Draco would be reminded of the fact that yes, I too am a fool for love.
Ginny only had eyes for Ron and Draco, and had apparently gotten over the fact that Remus and Sirius would not be marrying respectable woman. Instead she was concerned that she had really hurt her brother.
After lunch, Harry invited Ron up to their room so Draco was evidently forced to follow. Hermione joined too, and it really was kind of awkward for Draco. He read while the Golden Trio talked, and even though he was a bit annoyed at having to hold his book and flip the pages with one hand, Ron's fit snugly into his and the redhead wasn't planning on letting go soon.
When Draco's mobile rang, the conversation halted suddenly. He planned on getting up from his place by the bed—all four of them on the carpet, using the bed as a shield from the sun—but Ron held his hand even tighter. He wasn't looking at Draco angrily, but more stern than anything else.
As if to say: 'you're not having a conversation with him if I can't hear it.'
So he sat back and waited for Blaise to talk.
"Baby, we need to go out!" Blaise sounded hyperactive and distressed at the same time and that's not good.
"What?" Draco frowned and straightened, a wave of worry momentarily washing over him.
"I have a strange need for weak muggle beer and sex without wand-lube," he rambled, barely taking time to breathe.
"Blaise... you use your wand for lube?" Draco's frown grew, "how—"
"Draco!" Blaise interrupted—so shrill the others could hear it and Draco pulled back in shock, "I want frivolous dancing and I want it now!"
"Well," Draco snapped, something's wrong and he's not telling me, the bitch! "You're not getting any frivolous dancing until you tell me why you're PMSing!"
He could practically see Blaise sulk.
"Leo went to the movies with a friend!" he admitted, outraged, "He's choosing movies over sex!"
"Just because he's out with friends doesn't mean he's choosing the one over the other," said Draco with a roll of his eyes, typical Blaise, "I'm sure he'll want sex after the movies."
"That's not the point!" Blaise whined, "When we went to have dinner and lover-boy wanted your attention you compromised and brought him along! I'm being denied sex because of some stupid kid named Pasha!"
"Could you please not call him lover-boy, that's so degrading," Draco reprimanded him, "furthermore, you are sure as hell not comparing my love for Ronald to your fucktoy of the month! For all you know he's punishing you for fucking everything that has a dick and moves!"
Ron brushed his thumb past the plain of Draco's hand at his words to show his appreciation, and it caused Draco to smile a little.
"He has no right to punish me! I'll show him the real meaning of 'fucking everything that moves'!"
"At risk of sounding like the dreadfully boring person I really am," Draco said frankly, "I really wish you wouldn't. I promise I'll make you feel better, but only if you promise not to have sex."
There was some hesitation.
"I always thought you were better than sex," Blaise sighed eventually, "thank you babe."
"Buy me a weak muggle beer and we'll call it even," Draco grinned, "I'll have to ask Sirius first, is that okay?"
"Sure," Blaise still sounded rather down, despite his attempts to hide it, "ah, also, I plan on asking your redhead along."
Draco finally looked at Ron. He had been staring all through the conversation and gave the pale hand a squeeze when their eyes locked.
"He's been nice to you," Blaise chuckled, explaining, "he deserves to see your dancing tush."
Draco grinned, and with Blaise still laughing, he hung up.
Blaise arrived at Grimmauld Place a glum mess that evening. He was pouty, and nearly squeezed Draco to death when he opened the door.
"Okay babe," he said sternly, "make me feel better."
Draco just laughed and led him up the stairs. He had reluctantly agreed to let Harry and Hermione stay in his bedroom for the evening, since Ron had left his chessboard there and the room wasn't exceedingly hot. It had been a nuisance, Harry and Hermione curious as to the purpose of every single item there, and—with Ron close-by—unafraid to ask him about them.
"Oh!" Blaise stopped abruptly when they passed the first floor living room—inside, Bill, Charlie and Molly resided—and the three redheads looked up in surprise. Molly was about to greet Blaise, when the boy grinned and licked his lips, eyes locked on Bill: "actually, having a redhead might make me feel better."
"Blaise! No sex!"
Draco dragged the raven off, leaving an outraged Molly, a befuddled Charlie and a blushing Bill behind.
"Wauw, you've given it a complete make-over, haven't you?" Blaise drawled sarcastically. Ron and Harry, who were playing chess, looked up when the pair entered the bedroom, and Hermione—busy examining the bookrack—turned in surprise, "Last time I was here, the boobs was a redhead."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco raised his hand and silenced her.
"He's drunk, just drop it," he pushed Blaise forward, "come on Blaise, bathroom."
"But I don't need to pee," Blaise whined.
"But you need to shower, you stink," they disappeared into the bathroom, but the three teens left in the bedroom could still hear them bicker, "when you said you wanted weak muggle beer I didn't expect you to go and find some on your own before you came here."
"Actually, I got some booze from the kids down my street," there was a giggle, "Dray, that tickles."
"Alright, get those off," Ron and Harry exchanged a look, and the redhead frowned, "come on, in you go Blaise."
"Why is that I'm naked and you're still fully clothed?"
"Because I know what decency is. Yours has long gone," the water began running and Blaise gave a loud shriek which made Harry bump over the chessboard, and caused Hermione to drop the book she was holding.
"Dray-co," Blaise gave a wail, "It's cold bay-by!"
"That's the general idea," Ron could imagine Draco would be rolling his eyes, and even though the blonde was in the same room as a naked Blaise, he couldn't help but smile, "hey don't—"
"FEEL THE COLD!"
"You sodding wanker!" Blaise giggled, "Stay!"
"But—"
"Stay or I bloody murder you!" once more, Blaise giggled, and Draco exited the bathroom with a scowl on his face.
His dress-shirt was completely soaked, and it stuck to his figure tightly, showing his nipples clearly due to the cold of the water. Ron gave him a sympathetic look but Draco was too busy undoing his shirt to notice. He dumped it in the hamper and grumbled unhappily while he avidly searched his wardrobe for a replacement.
"DRAKEY-BABY-LOVE-BUM!" Blaise sang off-key, and Harry had to repress a chuckle.
He didn't like Slytherins, really, but they made funny drunks.
"Stay there," Draco called, immune to the nickname—he used to get very angry whenever Blaise called him that, but he knew it was something only a very-drunk Blaise used—knowing that if the boy was in his right mind, he wouldn't use it, "I'll come help you immediately!"
"But it's co-ho-hold!"
"That's the point," Draco snapped, quickly shrugging on a new shirt, before taking Blaise's bag and heading back into the bathroom, "out."
"Finally!" the relief was evident in his voice, "I was freezing my nuts off! How could you put piccolo Blaisey through that torture!"
"Could you please not refer to your dick as 'piccolo Blaisey'," Draco commented dryly, and this time Harry could not repress his chortle, "put your briefs on. Here, go...— Blaise!"
Blaise fled from the bathroom and into the bedroom—grinning goofily at the other three teenagers—in just his white, tight briefs, the fact that he was still wet causing them to stick to his body even more. He almost flopped down on the bed when Draco sneered: "you better not be thinking about planting your wet arse down on my freshly made bed!"
The raven coughed and remained standing, shaking his head a little, droplets of water falling from his black curls. Draco appeared—his shirt once more soaked—with a towel in his hand and glare in place. He carried his friend's bag back to the bed and looked at the raven expectantly. Blaise grinned apologetically, and Draco shook his head lightly, laying the towel on the black head and beginning the drying of his hair.
"Dray," Blaise muttered, his eyes a bit hazy, "I'm feeling better."
"That's nice," Draco said dryly, "don't move."
He rubbed the raven behind his ears, and Blaise did his best to stand still.
"This whole wet shirt look suits you Dray," he commented throatily, "I've done good."
"No you haven't," Draco snapped, "just because I said I'd make you okay again does not give you the right to soak two of my best shirts!"
"If you'd taken it off we wouldn't be having this discussion," Blaise leered seductively, but it lost in strength when he yelped as Draco gave his hair a harsh tug.
"That is very true, though besides the point," Draco began to dry off the broad, dark chest, "one naked person in the bathroom is more than enough, thank you."
"Is that what you say when sparky over there," he indicated Ron, "joins?"
Ron glared at the nickname, and Harry's eyes widened, as if we can't bathe together, stupid sod.
"That's different," Draco reasoned, and added: "and don't call him sparky."
"How is that different?" Blaise pouted, "I'm sexy too!"
"Are you a redhead?" Draco asked sternly, rubbing the dark hair to accentuate his point, "I think not," he tossed the towel into the hamper as well, and took Blaise's t-shirt from his bag, "is your skin pale and freckly?" he poked Blaise's stomach and the boy's pout grew, "Nope. So it's different. Arms."
His friend obediently outstretched his arms, so Draco could easily put the shirt on him. When the blonde turned to take Blaise's clean jeans, the black boy grabbed him around the waist. The front of Draco's shirt stuck to his chest because of the water, but now also because Blaise forced it there, and it rumpled under Blaise's arm. Draco tried squeezing out of the embrace, but it was no use, Blaise refused to let go.
"That's not fair at all," Blaise sulked, "just because I'm not freckly..."
"Tough luck Blaise, but unless you turn into Ron Weasley overnight you're not seeing me naked, now let go of me," he tried, to no avail to reach the jeans, but Blaise only held him tighter.
"But you're my best friend! Does that not give me naked dibs?"
"No, it does not," Draco outstretched his whole body, and managed to reach the jeans with the tops of his fingers. Carefully, he brought them closer within reach, "Come on Blaise, let me dress you."
He used his extra-friendly-yet-seductive tone, knowing that Blaise could not resist it. He sounded rather sultry, but it served its purpose as Blaise abruptly released his hold.
"Thank you," Draco squatted down, tugging at Blaise's ankle to indicate he ought to lift his foot, "up."
Blaise obeyed, and the blonde slid the jeans around one leg, moving to the next. When he had managed to get most of the pants legs over Blaise's ankles, he slowly came back up to a standing position, pulling the jeans with him. He did the front of his friend's jeans and closed the buckle of his belt.
"All done, I'm sure you can manage with your socks?" he stepped back to examine his handiwork—Blaise no longer smelled like the Merlin-awful liquor he'd had, and his damp hair gave his outfit a little extra—handing the raven his white socks.
"Sure, that little sexy crouching thing you did there sobered me completely babe," he flashed a grin and flopped down onto the bed—close to Harry, who was still staring at the couple in wonderment—while Draco focused on once more changing his shirt. He did so quickly, not wanting to be half-naked in front of anyone else but Ronald, for too long, "Are you going like that?"
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing," Draco threw a glare over his shoulder at his friend, taking his black peacoat from its hanger, figuring he might need it later on.
"You know how hot it gets there babe," Blaise tugged on his second sock and took his fancy sneakers from his bag, "I don't want you to sizzle and evaporate into thin air."
"I promise you I won't sizzle, the shirt's really not that hot," he did his buttons while he watched his appearance in the mirror, damn, I look good. Ron better be coming with me tonight, 'cause he's gonna wanna ravish that either way.
"You're wearing lengthy black jeans!"
"So are you," Draco frowned, pointing at the black boy's own trousers.
"I'm Italian babe," Blaise winked, "I was born to sizzle."
Draco rolled his eyes but went to his drawer nonetheless. He undid his jeans under his jacket and pulled on a pair of light khaki brown shorts instead. It was a funny sight to see him do it under his coat, but he didn't care because at least I'm not flashing them with too much of my skin.
He turned to give Blaise a rather bored look, but the raven just grinned.
"Perfect," he stood, and turned to the two boys on the carpet, "so, would you two like to accompany us?"
"What about me?" Hermione butted in, outraged at the idea of not being asked to come as well.
"You can come too," Blaise shrugged, indicating that he really didn't care either way, "just prepare to be disappointed if you do."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"He's trying to say that he's taking us to a gay bar," Draco elaborated, "and though boobs are accepted in the one we're going to, they're not exactly adored."
"So," Blaise flashed them with his typical bad-boy grin, "you joining?"
Ron and Harry shared a look, debating the offer. Then, without further consideration, Ron glanced over at Draco—his eyes darkening with lust—and nodded.
When they arrived at the club, there was a line waiting outside to be let in. Harry and Ron exchanged a look, agreeing not to go to the end of the line and instead wait to see what the two Slytherins were up to. Ron's hand slipped into Draco's as if by accident, but I'm on friend-duty, so Draco just gave it a small tug. The music was pounding, perfectly audible even when they were still standing outside.
"Blaise! Blondie!" they were called over by the bouncer by the door—a muscled, half-naked man with a broad smile—and Blaise pulled the blonde with him.
Instead of receiving angry looks as they had at the restaurant, most people just waved at them, which Harry obviously found weird, even if he didn't comment on it.
"Good to see you," the man exchanged kisses with Blaise, and Draco shook his hand politely, "go on in."
"You really never wait in line, do you?" Ron said with a smirk as Blaise led them inside.
Draco just smiled knowingly, following his friend.
Inside, the thud of the music was even worse. It was hard and fast, pressing into their eardrums. To Draco, coming to the club was like turning off all the lights. No one there knew him—he was only known by the name 'Blondie'—and with the hard pumping of the music all pretense disappeared. The beat was the only thing of any relevance, and once he began dancing, stopping was a sin. The dance floor was the place to shake off anything bad or awkward, everything went there, as was proven by the men practically dry-humping each other, and it was a place where anyone—everyone—could be free, disregarding house or gender.
When Blaise took him out, he never had to worry about the obligations he had to his family.
Because here he wasn't really Draco to anyone but Blaise. He was Blondie, and not being known felt safe. The knowledge that whatever happened there, stayed there, was comforting. It was a way out.
Music does that to me.
With Blaise's arm around his waist and Ron's hand tightly in his own, they made their way to the back of the club. There were some comfortable couches there, placed to form a comfortable nook. Most were taken, a couple making out on one of them, but two—their usual places, Draco noticed—were still vacant.
Everywhere men were dancing, sweaty bodies colliding, and the seating area was no different, couples surrounding the couches. The dancing was almost indecent, but Draco was used to it by now. In a way it made the experience even more relaxing; to be amidst all those carefree people, dancing like there was no tomorrow.
On their way to the couches, a waiter handed Blaise five fluorescent green bottles with a smirk. Blaise said something—unheard by all but the waiter—and kissed his cheek, before leaving with a wink. The waiter pretended to be unaffected by the words, but his cheeks had a light pink hue to them as he smirked and left as well.
Draco took off his jacket as soon as they arrived at the couches, the air too thick for him to stand it. He took the bottle of beer Blaise offered him, and opened it with ease, taking a gentle swig.
"So," Blaise uncapped his bottle and downed it in one go, dividing the others amongst the Gryffindors, "let's go."
He offered a dark hand to Draco.
The blonde hesitated and cast a look at Ron. Ron had seated himself next to Harry, the raven nervously sipping his drink. They looked terribly uncomfortable, and Granger regarded their surroundings with something of awe. The redhead's eyes were fixed on Draco though, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Draco took another mouthful of his drink and ditched the bottle on the table, before taking Blaise's hand.
The Gryffindors watched the two Slytherins go, Harry and Hermione slightly panicky. Even though Ron had never been out like that before, he found the seats to be rather comfortable, and since Draco was dancing not thirty feet away from him, he was not about to complain. It was very hard to keep his eyes off the blonde, his t-shirt fitting perfectly around his chest, a bit tight around his broader hips so it outlined his figure perfectly.
Ron unconsciously licked his lips, and Harry and Hermione shared a knowing look.
The only thing that ruined the perfect picture, was the fact that one of Blaise's hands was posed on Draco's hip, assuring that they stayed close together.
"You know," Harry said pensively all of a sudden, forcing Ron to pay attention to him, though he did not avert his eyes, "I never knew he could move like that. Did you?"
He indicated Draco with his chin, drinking from his beer again—this time without grimacing. Hermione listened in on the conversation, though she did not comment yet.
"He does that hip thing when he's showering sometimes," Ron said—forgetting momentarily who he was talking to—letting his look trail down to Draco's ass, "but he always cuts it out when he realises I'm looking."
Harry shifted rather uncomfortably at the information, realising that they did really shower and that nakedness was apparently a thing between them. He looked over at the two Slytherins again, just in time to see Blaise bend over so he could whisper something in Draco's ear, forcing his waist closer to his own momentarily. He noticed how Ron's hands twitched and made a fist, even if he didn't react in any other way.
"It must bother you," Harry offered, knowing that Ron would never bring it up unless he was jabbed.
"A little bit," Ron admitted. He felt Harry stare and turned briefly. When he saw Harry's raised eyebrows and Hermione's look of disapproval, he sighed, "Fine. A lot," he looked at Draco again, and shrugged, "but I get it. Their friendship isn't like ours. Zabini is a coy bastard, 's all."
"That's it?" Harry pressed further.
"It pissed me off before," Ron sulked, "and I thought he cheated on me with 'em when he stayed over, but I believe him when he says he doesn't love Zabini. I trust him, and I know he didn't cheat. It's not worth fighting over."
"How do you know he didn't cheat?" Harry asked with a frown—not maliciously, but simply curious.
"Well, you know..." suddenly Ron blushed, and he remembered their encounter in the spare living room. Encounters like those were easier if they had been together not too long before, and even though it had gone well—felt like heaven—Ron had known Draco had not been with anyone for a couple of days, "I could feel it."
"Oh, like a gut feeling," Harry nodded in understanding—even though Ron realised he didn't understand.
"Not exactly," his ears burned bright, and both Harry and Hermione gave him an expectant look.
"Then how?" Hermione insisted now as well, and Ron gave a little cough.
"Well," he rubbed his neck nervously, "when we made love."
Harry blinked dumbly and Ron full-out groaned now. Hermione didn't seem too sure she understood either, even though she was usually the smart one.
"Do I need to draw you a bloody picture?" Ron snapped, "When we made love I could feel he hadn't been with anyone in a while, he was tense, okay!"
"But how does nerves—" Hermione stopped mid-sentence when Harry gave a meaningful point to his own arse, and Ron rolled his eyes.
"Yeah," he focused on Draco again the blonde's hips swaying in time with the music, "I trust 'm. So it's alright."
"That's good," Harry patted the redhead's back, his eyes a bit wide, "you guys've been here before?"
"No," Ron shook his head, "we haven't been out very often. Just went to Diagon alley once. I'd like to take him places, but we've just never really gotten to it."
"So..." Harry frowned slightly, "than what do you guys do? Besides... well, you know."
Ron's face lit up with a smile—happy Harry seemed uprightly interested in his relationship—and he turned back to his friend, though he did keep an eye on the blonde, just to be sure.
"We talk a lot," Ron said goofily, "he doesn't tell me very personal things, mostly just shallow stuff, but it's kinda nice. Sometimes he'll tell me something small about his parents, but that's only rarely. But sometimes when his guard is down, he tells me stuff like that, and well, since we had that fight... I think he might try to be more open about it," Ron did sound hopeful, thinking that even if they talked all the time, they really only rarely talked about Draco's feelings, "or we just kind of hang out. It's nice whatever we do."
Harry nodded in understanding, carefully questioning further: "so erm... have you been sleeping together for long than?"
"Not very," Ron chuckled, "we'd been together a couple of weeks before we slept together for the first time."
"That's good," Hermione added to the conversation, "I think that although sex is something important in a relationship there's no shame in waiting."
Ron frowned confusedly and scratched his neck again.
"Erm, we had sex right away," he told her, "I thought you meant sharing a bed at night."
Hermione opened her mouth, outraged, but Harry just laughed. Ron blushed a little which made his friend roll his eyes as he patted his back again.
"She's a girl," Harry whispered wisely, "it's typical."
This time it was Ron's turn to laugh, and Hermione eyed them suspiciously.
"You've gone out on one date," she seethed, "but sex was okay from the start."
"I don't know," Ron frowned, "it's just, the spending the night together part is far more intimate to me. I mean, the sex is really good, and I wouldn't want that with anyone else, but letting someone spend the night in your bed... it means putting yourself in a vulnerable position," he leaned back into the couch with a sigh, "I can't explain."
Hermione huffed, and Ron knew he was going to have to elaborate if he wanted to get out of this one.
"It's just, sex teaches me what kind of thing he likes and all that," he felt his cheeks heating at the thought of what the blonde liked, and willed it away, "but by spending the night in his bedroom I learn that he still keeps the memory of his father very close. Or that he's a neat-freak, and puts everything in neat little piles. I know that he usually gets up early and then reads a book, or that when he can't sleep he sits on his sofa for a while," he bit his lip in thought, "sex teaches me about what he's like when I make love to him, spending the night with him reveals more about what he is like in general."
This did please her, even if she still looked a bit upset. Ron looked at the blonde again, and he smiled sheepishly. Harry took another swallow of his bottle, and then they started talking again, even if Ron was distracted by the sight his lover made.
A couple of songs later Ron watched the two break up, Blaise heading back to the bar with a smirk and a pinch to Draco's hip, his lover joining them on the couch. He had a pink tinge to his cheeks, light enough for anyone to overlook it, but Ron noticed it right away. A deserted lock of hair was matted to his forehead, but he stroked it from his face before Ron could yield to the urge to go in and do it for him.
Draco was about to speak—the three Gryffindors looking up at him hopefully—when suddenly his friend returned. Blaise was visibly sweating, his curls wet and the buttons of his shirt undone. His face, though up in a wide grin before, was contorted into a scowl, and a hand was set on his hip angrily. He was bouncing on his heels, anxious, biting his lips to keep himself from rambling.
"Blaise—" Draco was cut off halfway when Blaise couldn't contain himself any longer.
"He's here!" it was nothing more but a squeak, and Blaise began pacing the space in front of his friend's seat, "That little piece of shit is here! And he brought that fucking Pacha—what'shisname—and how the fuck is he—" the outburst calmed him a little, before Draco could even try, and suddenly he turned determined, "oh, I will make him pay! Dray, give me a rubber."
Draco's brow rose gracefully, and a stubborn set to his jaw.
"Blaise, you said you wouldn't!" he sneered, reminding his friend of his promise.
Blaise huffed childishly and tapped his foot.
"I know what I said!" he groaned, "That was before he was here! He thinks he's the only ass I can fuck? There's plenty of guys out there more than willing to get themselves a lil' Italian in them! Just give me a rub—"
"I don't have any," Draco scoffed, and he felt hard-pressed to stick his tongue out at his friend, "besides, I hardly think cheating on him is the best way to solve your issues!"
"It would not be cheating!" Blaise seethed, "I have no one to cheat on!"
"You're insufferable," the blonde snarled, slapping his best friend across the head, "fine!"
Before Blaise could even whine about the abuse, Draco stood and headed over to one of the dancing men surrounding the couches. They watched him lean forward, drawing the man's attention by placing a hand on his hip. The older man turned curiously, a flirtatious smirk appearing when he took in the sight of Draco. Draco gave a wink, whispering something in the other's ear before giving Blaise a point.
Ron's fists twitched unwillingly when the man laughed and touched Draco's chest playfully. He reached into his pocket and handed the blonde something, and with that Draco gave another wink and returned to his friends.
The man watched his ass as he left, before returning his attention to his own friends, and Ron had to look away in fear of simply getting up and storming over there to give him a piece of his mind. He knew Draco had motive, but right then, he did not care.
Blaise looked at his friend curiously, but Draco just handed him a foil package wordlessly. The Gryffindors' eyes widened when they realised it were condoms.
"Dude," Blaise looked at the man Draco had been talking with, and then back at the blonde, "how the hell did you get him to give you..." he did a quick count, "ten rubbers?"
"I told him that if you ever got to using the tenth, he can come in and use an eleventh," Blaise stared in awe, not even really caring he had been sold off for condoms, "alright, so," Draco forced his friend to look at him, taking a hold of his chin, "these can give you five nice goes, at five different guys," Blaise nearly drooled at the idea, a dirty smirk appearing on his face—his eyes darkening with lust—but it fell quickly at Draco's stern look, "or," he continued sharply, "you could use them to show Leonardo why you're the guy everyone in this place wants to get down with. Show him your worth."
Blaise blinked stupidly once, before his face split out into a full grin—less naughty, but straight from the heart—and he pocketed the package. He rubbed his nose together with Draco's in an affectionate manner, silently thanking his friend for managing to calm him, and not letting him run wild like an insane person.
Before he could skip off in pursuit of Leonardo, Draco copped a feel—except that he wasn't copping a feel, though it surely looked like it—and Ron fumed. He grabbed something from Blaise's back pocket, and the raven raised an amused eyebrow, purring deeply.
Draco rolled his eyes and handed Blaise his own phial of lube—strawberry flavoured, from the looks of the bottle—and Harry shifted uncomfortably at the revelation that the Slytherin carried lube wherever he went.
"Be nice to his arse," Draco added, before he pushed his friend in the direction of the bar where he had encountered his lover.
They watched him go on his merry way, before Draco glanced back at the seated Gryffindors. Hermione and Harry looked a bit baffled—they're not used to much at all, are they?—but what was really most fascinating was the fact that Ron's eyes were blazing, touching him deep into his core and flooding him with a pooling sort of warmth.
Gorgeous.
Draco's head cocked to the side in contemplation—then, the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk, and he outstretched his hand to Ron. The redhead needed only a moment to consider the silent offer. He gave Harry a sideways glance to make sure he was not completely losing it, and then took Draco's hand and stood.
It was worth it when Draco's eyebrows fluttered in contentment and the almost invisible smile reached his eyes. Draco upped the stakes when he turned and brought Ron with him to the dance floor, an unmistakeable swagger in his step that made his hips curve beautifully.
They joined the others having a go at the music, so loud and insistent it controlled heartbeats. Draco made sure they were still in the line of sight of the left-behind Gryffindors, because it really would be a shame if they were forced to spend the night in search of them because they'd run off in distress.
Even with people moving hotly all around them, Ron was undisturbed, catching Draco into a makeshift embrace. He folded his arms around Draco's midriff and leaned into his back heavily, nuzzling him behind his ear.
Draco chuckled and it went unheard, but Ron felt how he leaned back into the cuddle, and knew he was amused, to some extent. The blonde turned in the broad arms—Ron moving his hands to cradle the defined hips instead—smirking up at his tall lover.
"I have a confession to make," Ron had to bend forward to reach Draco's ear, and his hot breath sent goosebumps to the pale skin, "I'm not very good at this."
The embarrassment that rose to his cheeks was masked perfectly by the wildly flashing lights turning everything green and blue and violent shades of yellow.
"This?" Draco teased, getting up on his toes to reach Ron's ear in return.
Ron grinned too, now, his lover's playful attitude brightening his features.
"This dance thing," Ron elaborated, indicating the moving people around them.
Draco pursed his lips seductively and he flattened his palms against Ron's front, right next to the jutting of his hips. His fingers tugged at the worn-out belt he was wearing, positioning the redhead's waist against his own.
"Don't you fret," Draco brazened, "it's easy," he began circling his hips, pulling Ron's with his own, "just follow mine."
He was very much aware of the fact that they were not at all in sync with the music—their tempo was slow and sensual, the music blaring and demanding rough and edgy movements Draco was not willing to give.
Ron didn't protest either, instead enjoying the finesse with which Draco moved, smoothly locking his waist into his lover's. His arms wound around Draco's back and he rested his hands discretely on Draco's lower back, just above the curve of his plump ass.
Their legs slid against one another's, and they began moving a bit quicker, bodies bouncing to the beat. Draco grabbed the back of Ron's waistband and forced him down with him, before their waists moved up again roughly. Ron had the most appreciative expression on his face, lips delicately parted. The redhead's hands slid down, abandoning all decency and full-out groping Draco's arse.
Draco purred huskily, his own fingers wrapping around the loopholes of Ron's jeans, and pressed up closer to his lover, their eyes locking and creating pure fire. One of Ron's hands abandoned Draco's arse in favour of his lower back, which was after all, his favourite place on my body, rubbing circles with his thumb.
One of his own arms went around the redhead's neck, as they swayed to the music, the other holding onto a freckled hip. He turned in his lover's embrace, flattering himself against his hard body, his hand sliding down to a strong thigh. Ron growled into his ear and grabbed his hips, moving them to the beat.
They danced for what seemed like hours, under the vigilant eye of Harry and Hermione. They noted each touch and each sway, and Draco knew they were looking but couldn't bring himself to be bothered. Ron had his arms around him and it felt like... home.
When a slower song came on, Ron turned the blonde in his arms to face him. As their eyes met Draco noticed that the redhead's eyes had darkened considerably, and the corner of his mouth twirled up in a leer. He was not oblivious, and he knew very well that the combination of no sex for a couple of days and Draco pressed up close against him made Ron a little crazy. That didn't mean he was not determined to enjoy every second of his passion-induced insanity.
Draco stood on his toes, leaning up so he could reach the redhead, and Ron did that thing where he half-closed his eyes, looking down at Draco in expectation of the kiss.
The blue swirled with silver, half-lit and Draco knew his must be about the same. He could feel his body reacting to the unspoken promise of lips pressed together, and he blinked lazily, his eyelashes fluttering. He paused when he was a breath away from his lover's mouth, waiting for Ron to rise to the bait.
Ron enjoyed Draco's expression a single second longer—the hidden smile on the red lips and the silver hazy with want—before bending his neck and pushing his lips to Draco's.
It felt as if they hadn't kissed in months. They bit and they licked and their tongues met and it was delicious.
Draco had missed kissing the redhead more than he cared to admit, and was determined to make that up. He would make sure he had bruised his lover's lips with kisses by the time they left the club.
AN: I know I'm strange when it comes to music. I'm not sorry for that.
I planned lube-theft, but that seemed beneath a Malfoy.
And… this chapter saved my life. Or well. It saved the life of this fic, at least, for me. (So did the music, let's not forget about that. It's quite crucial.)