Blaise froze, his mouth halfway between kissing one part of Draco and another. Finch-Fletchley... Finch-Fletchley... A face matched the name and Blaise straightened up quickly, still straddling Draco's legs. A stunned moment passed before Blaise threw his head back and laughed. Laughed hard. So hard he had to roll off Draco to lie on his back beside him. Justin Finch-Fletchley?!
Holding his stomach and rolling slightly from side to side, Blaise got his amusement somewhat under control and relaxed into the bed, turning his head to consider his friend. "Finch-Fletchley? The whiny prat that thought Potter was trying to kill him second year?" he scoffed. "Oh, Draco, this is almost as much fun as fucking would have been." Stretching his arms about his head and arching his back, Blaise considered this confession. Sliding a glance at Draco from the corner of his eyes, Blaise only managed to break into another fit of hearty guffaws.
"I- I honestly," he wheezed out between laughs, "don't think I could really manage to breathe much of anything. Much less," he giggled, "be physically able to bring up the name in public." Rolling back onto his side to look at Draco, propping his head on his hand, Blaise brushed a strand of hair off Draco's forehead. "Oh, pet, is that what this has been all about?" He was finding this whole situation to be too funny to even be annoyed with Draco's choice. He'd see the light eventually anyway.