Happy springsmut, mr_mercutio! Author:wayharshtai Recipient:mr_mercutio Title: Unfinished Business Rating: Hard R/NC-17 Pairing(s): Blaise/Draco, Blaise/other mentioned (it's a surprise). Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Summary: Blaise and Draco have "unfinished business." Warnings: The mention of Blaise/other? Purposely done tense-changing. Word Count: 5603 Author's Notes: Happy springsmut, mr_mercutio! I tried my best to work with everything you listed, and I hope that it's close enough to what you were looking for that you like/love it!
Florence darling,
I think it's been much too long since you and I have had the chance to speak, especially in your moment of grief. Perhaps you would like to come over for dinner so we can have the chance to catch up? Your son is more than welcome to accompany you.
hugs, Narcissa
-
Draco didn't want to be there. Of course, he didn't really have much say in the matter; the Malfoys – which actually only consisted of himself and his mother as his father served a shortened term in Azkaban – were entertaining the Zabinis – which only consisted of Blaise and his mother. Florence was apparently in between husbands at the moment, or so his mother had commented once while talking through the Floo to Persea Parkinson. It was sort of amazing how they could consider themselves "friends" and then talk about their lives behind each other's back. For a moment, he wondered what the other women said about his own mother, but the thought faded almost as quickly as it arrived. Nothing good, that he could be certain of.
What he'd have liked, if it had been at all possible, would have been the opportunity to be somewhere else. To have somewhere else to be. But the amount of friends he actually had was an astonishingly – or maybe not so much if you actually knew Draco – nonexistent amount. So he was stuck where he was. And the more time he spent in the same room as Zabini, the more he thought about –
"What are you going to do, Malfoy?" An eyebrow was raised even as the question was asked. "Hit me for asking a question?"
Draco looked down to where his hands tightly gripped the material of Blaise's robes, holding him against the wall. He leaned in, his face no more than a few inches away, as Blaise glared at him, his hands gripping Draco's wrists in a ready attempt to escape the hold. Draco didn't know Blaise, not personally, even in six and a half years. But he knew enough about the other boy to know that nothing short of a good distraction would keep him from asking again. It was the most logical explanation he could come up with for it all; he just wanted Blaise to stop prying, and while slightly flawed, he was of the opinion that it would get the job done.
Jerking him forward, Draco smashed their mouths together, and tried not to be surprised at the fact that Blaise's grip on his wrists tightened, but not in an attempt to pull away.
He was also trying to ignore the revelation that he didn't exactly mind kissing the other boy, either.
Which had worked, for the most part. Where the rest of his plans that year had fallen apart quite spectacularly, the smallest, most unimportant one had worked out; Blaise had kept his distance for whatever reason, leaving Draco all the opportunity to concentrate one-hundred percent on his plans to kill Dumbledore.
"Snog any boys without warning as of late?"
It was extremely late and they were alone in the common room, Blaise having just arrived while Draco sat for the opportunity to be… away. He didn't like anything about the way his life was, and he needed a good few minutes to not be the 'King,' as things seemed to be under Snape's leadership.
Even still, Draco considered Blaise lucky they were alone. The last thing he needed, or wanted, was anyone overhearing a piece of information such as that. Therefore, he was glaring a bit when he said, "No."
It was short, to the point, and the truth. Even months later, and while he knew why he'd done it, he still wouldn't be able to rightly explain it, which made it a good thing Zabini had never asked.
Blaise nodded, coming further into the room, his hand trailing along the backs of arm chairs before he came to the sofa Draco was reclining on. He seemed to hesitate, from what Draco caught, but the uncertainty was there and then gone again; Blaise liked to be enigmatic. You couldn't accomplish that if everyone could read you like a book, could you?
"Do you want to?"
"What?" Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Blaise crouched down before him, leaning forward just enough that they were sharing personal space, breathing the same air. He could smell the Firewhiskey the other boy had obviously been drinking, and his eyes narrowed further as he stared.
"I asked you if you wanted to."
Before Draco could make up his mind and reply (he resolutely didn't think about the nature of his indecision), let alone let the thought process, Blaise closed in the space between them, his lips touching Draco's softly at first before heat and lust and passion had its way. Draco's most definite memory from it was of Blaise's taste, however. Mostly firewhiskey, with that tiny hint of him underneath it all.
Maybe, he blamed it later on the fact he'd sort of been attacked, it was the fact that he spent entirely too much time thinking about Blaise, or occasionally wondering what it'd be like to kiss him properly that led to him not pulling, or pushing Blaise, away.
It was only then, as he had Blaise almost in his lap that he realised, given the chance to answer, it would have been yes.
Almost.
Things had almost worked out to be the way they should have been. And while that hadn't been the last time the two had found each other (though it always seemed to happen at night), Draco had managed to convince himself – rather easily – that he'd probably never see Blaise after they left Hogwarts, unless it was at some event or another. Of course, then his mother had to ruin it by inviting his family over for dinner. He figured, though, she was probably lonely with his father being... "away." They could only entertain each other for so many hours of the day, after all.
"Maybe," Narcissa was saying when Draco returned to the present, "we should retreat to my quarters to continue our conversation?"
Draco decidedly reached for his half-filled glass of wine as the two middle-aged women stood, excusing themselves quickly. The sounds of their voices, Florence with the hint of a French accent, drifted down the hallway for a bit before they were finally out of range, and Draco took the chance of looking at Blaise.
Almost instantly, it was as if his two years of "progress" were complete shit, if the thoughts he had of what it would be like to climb across the table for the simple act of kissing the other boy meant anything. It didn't help that, as if sensing what Draco was thinking, Blaise raised an eyebrow in what was likely invitation.
Considering that Draco didn't exactly trust himself to not take advantage of that (what with the thoughts he kept having), there was only one thing to do. He got up and left the room.
-
Zabini,
We have unfinished business. The Manor at eight, for a drink?
Malfoy
-
Despite the fact that Narcissa was around (just on the other side of the Manor in fact), meaning they weren't actually alone, Blaise didn't seem to be able to wait until they were at least within the confines of Draco's bedroom, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him into a lingering kiss, even as the two attempted to move down the hall in the direction of his room.
Draco didn't hesitate to respond back, seeking Blaise's mouth in return, and it was over almost as quickly as it began as, with a laugh, Blaise pulled back. "I knew you were queer."
"I'm not," was Draco's instant reply, said almost defensively.
Blaise rolled his eyes as if to show his disbelief, and Draco gave Blaise a suspicious look, the start of a smirk curving his lips upward. "I think you want me to be gay."
"And what would I possibly get out of that?"
Draco shrugged slightly. "I've no clue how your mind works, Zabini. You tell me."
Blaise only shook his head, pulling Draco in for another short kiss, and a few more after that - all forceful ones that felt to him like mini-battles of dominance in the war of who was actually on top between the two. In Draco's opinion, it was obviously him; he didn't do surrendering. Not to anyone, not to anything.
Finally, somewhere in all of that, they found his bedroom and Draco turned the knob entering backwards as, with an arm about Blaise's waist and a hand resting comfortably on his hip as if it was nothing new, he pulled Blaise inside, the door automatically closing behind them.
Pulling back, Blaise abandoned their "fight," instead kissing Draco's neck and collarbone, and he used his hands to work Draco's clothing off. Draco decided to give a helping hand, pulling off his jumper to reveal pale skin that was in heavy contrast to Blaise's own. Blaise wasted no time, slowly sinking to his knees, as his hands roamed and his mouth trailed down Draco's body. He kissed about Draco's navel, even as his quick hands deftly undid Draco's trousers and they were pulled down, along with pants, Blaise placed a kiss to the base of his cock and then the head.
It wasn't much, but the feel of his skin on Draco's, even in such a minimal capacity, caused Draco to suck in a breath as Blaise leaned forward, his eyes upwards and on Draco, as he ran a tongue up the length before wrapping his lips around the head of Draco's cock. Involuntarily, Draco groaned at the utter warmth as Blaise continued to lavish his cock with attention, licking and sucking, pausing just as he had Draco rock hard and wanting before he eased the head of Draco's cock into his mouth, working his tongue in an almost expertly way that told Draco without a doubt that Blaise had done this before. Many times before, maybe.
For who, he had to wonder? And when? And how many times? Had there been more than one person in his past? Were they still in his present? And then he had to force himself to stop wondering because, really, he didn't care. What reason would he possibly have to? He and Blaise were acquaintances, with similar interests, and this was just an itch he needed to rid himself of, unfinished business.
One look at Draco, and Blaise seemed to know what he was thinking, sitting back on the heels of his feet. Slowly, he licked his lips as he stood, bringing himself back to Draco's height. With lustful eyes, Draco watched him for a moment, and then pulled him into a hard, almost forceful kiss; there was something arousing about it all as he worked at the fastenings on Blaise's trousers as they took several steps until Blaise's back met the wall behind him.
Draco gave no smug look, no seductive smile, only kissing and nipping at Blaise's neck and collarbone as he massaged Blaise's already hardening cock through the fabric of his pants. Blaise hissed and moaned in his ear (he even let out a few indecent words that Draco hadn't even believed was a part of his vocabulary), erotic sounds that made Draco's kisses a bit more passionate, his nipping at Blaise's skin just a bit more on the painful side (considering the gasp it elicited, however, Draco was sure that wouldn't be a problem) and his cock even harder.
Finally, Draco pushed the clothing down off his hips to let it drop to his ankles, but he wasn't really paying attention to that as Blaise did his best to kick them off, all the while seeking Draco's mouth with his as Draco's fingers grazed Blaise's cock, eliciting a shiver and a groan and Draco smirked against his lips, doing it once more, only for Blaise to pull away breathlessly. "Fuck, Dra –"
Draco didn't want to talk. He didn't do talking, and therefore cut Blaise off with his mouth, wrapping his fingers around the base of Blaise's dick and every so slowly stroking it as, with one hand, Blaise reached down to do the same. There wasn't much said at this point. Just the heavy breathing when they kissed, the groans and moans as they jerked each other's cocks, only to be broken by the whisper of, "fuck me," in Draco's ear, every syllable pronounced clearly.
He could have come right then, with only the thought of fucking Blaise, but Draco just managed to keep his self control, pulling back slightly. Quickly, he searched Blaise's face and found nothing but desire, lust and need, there. Blaise quickly undid the buttons on his shirt, revealing more of his dark skin and Draco ran his hands over his chest and abs as he kissed at Blaise's jaw, pulling away only to whisper, "turn around."
Blaise did as directed, feet spread wide enough apart for Draco to stand behind him. Stroking his own cock, he rubbed the pre-come over the length, and unable to wait much longer, he positioned himself behind Blaise, pushing against his entrance, inch by inch slowly sinking inside as Blaise moaned with pleasure, holding himself upwards with both hands against the wall as slowly, teasingly, Draco pulled almost all the way out and then back in again, only to, once again, pull out and push back in (to Blaise's murmured yes).
"Hard."
One word, gasped breathlessly as Draco wrapped one hand around Blaise's cock, the other placed on Blaise's hip, and Draco didn't need to be told again as his pace increased with each stroke. Faster and harder until he was very nearly balls deep and the only word Blaise could seem to form was "yes," mixed in with a few more words that he'd never speak in normal conversation, Draco's deep breathing and the sound of skin meeting skin permeating the room as well as Blaise's shouts. With every trust, Draco found himself closer and closer to the edge, and he jerked Blaise's cock in time with every drive of his hips until, finally, in a string of curses, Blaise was coming, hard, his body trembling. Draco, himself, couldn't hold on much longer and without a word he came on an inward thrust, and the intensity of it very nearly caused his vision to go white and his legs wanted to crumple underneath him. He just managed not to, however, continuing to stroke Blaise's cock as they both rode out their orgasms. Slowly, the satiated feeling ebbed enough for Draco to pull away, taking a step back.
He took a moment, staring at Blaise's bare arse, as he came to terms with the fact that he'd just fucked him, with his mother in her suite down the hall, and though his cock twitched with a mix of the excitement the thought had given him, and of shagging Blaise again, he was crossing back to the centre of the room, and picking up his clothing before he'd really caught his breath. "You need to leave."
Blaise turned to look at him, leaning against the wall and watching as he started to dress. "What's the hurry?"
"This. Us." Draco stated, pausing to look at him in the midst of zipping up his trousers. "It's not going to happen again, Zabini." Of course, Draco had also thought he'd never even kiss him again, and look where that got him. But he serious about this.
"I've had what I want."
Blaise's gaze narrowed as soon as the words were out of Draco's mouth and Draco figured he'd said the right thing if the way the other boy quickly dressed and left without another word meant anything.
-
T.
I've had some recent things come to light and have realised they weren't worth my time. Come over for tea, tomorrow at noon?
- B.
-
Sometimes, Draco thought about it. Him. He thought about him. He wondered if what he'd said had bothered him. Even though, really, he was quite aware of the fact that he had no business wondering about whether what he'd said had bothered Blaise or not – they weren't friends. Never really had been. They'd just been... a fuck. Nothing more.
Of course, that however, didn't really keep Draco from wanting to do it again. From wanting to feel that tightness. From wanting to be the one that made Blaise groan and moan, to hiss with pleasure. He wanted to be the one Blaise begged to fuck him. He wanted to try it on the bed, or maybe on some other type of surface.
There were plenty of options for him. Plenty of blokes he could meet, be discreet with, and never see again. Plenty of ones that were just as good looking as Blaise, if not better ( he was aware of the lie he was telling himself), but the truth was no other man had ever appealed to him in the way Blaise had, still did, probably would never. So no matter how much he told himself he could get past this, be over it, he couldn't make himself stop. Stop thinking about his touch, his feel, his smell, his taste. The sounds he made as Draco fucked him, the look in his eyes as he expertly sucked Draco's cock.
Or the one when Draco all but kicked him out after pretty much admitting to using him.
So, he figured, that there was only one way to get Blaise out. Out of his system, and out of him thoughts. Which meant he had an owl to send.
-
Unfinished business. Drink?
DM
-
You're a tosser.
Seriously, you are. You think you can say whatever you want, and then owl me a few weeks later as if it never happened. As if you never said it. As if there's some magnificent reset button, because you're Draco Fucking Malfoy. Except it doesn’t mean anything anymore to anyone that isn't you, and I'm not really sure if it ever did.
And I'm an idiot.
Because I thought, two years ago, after the thoughts and the dreams, after you kissed me and then I kissed you… all the other kisses after that. And the... and everything else. I thought that maybe it was all right that I was stupidly falling into this habit of actually caring about your wellbeing. Because, maybe – just maybe, you were stupidly caring about mine in return. I was fucking hopeful - isn't that a riot?
Of course, I realised, then. After Dumbledore, and seventh year, and the end of the war, and the two years of not speaking only to be a complete tit and have actual sex with you, that relationships – platonic, romantic, sexual, good, bad and in between – they make you stupid. And you do stupid things.
So that was me being stupid. It's the last time I'm going to be stupid in regard to you. And, yes, you're never going to see this because I fully intend to set it on fire before the ink even dries, but I'm better for it. So there's that.
Rot in hell, Malfoy.
-
No we haven't, and I don't think so.
- B.
-
If it wasn't for the fact that Pansy had utterly insisted on not taking a "no" for an answer, Draco wouldn't be there, standing in the middle of some expensive cafe for the simple purpose of meeting an old friend (and future wife if their mothers had their way) for a bit of lunch. To catch up, she'd said. Of course, she knew by now that he didn't really play catch up, so it was more of a chance to see each other than anything else. Why Pansy wanted to see him after everything, had interested him, and was mainly his reason for agreeing to go.
As he stood by the host's desk, waiting to be seated, he caught sight of a familiar face. Two familiar faces. Nott and Zabini, sitting together. Almost instantly, Draco wondered if Blaise was shagging him, too. Had in the past. Maybe he was the one Blaise had learned how to give a blowjob to, the first person Blaise had let fuck him.
Unbidden, the urge to go over and talk, maybe even get an answer or two to his questions, came over Draco. Before he could change his mind and decide to be indifferent to it all (because it meant nothing), he was passing the desk and ignoring the host's protests, making his way over.
The two looked up at his arrival, Theodore seeming surprised, and Blaise seeming annoyed at his presence. "Well, isn't this a coincidence. I was just set to meet Pansy here."
Blaise raised an eyebrow at that, though his eyes were cold when he looked at Draco. "Maybe you ought to get back to that? I'm sure Pansy doesn't like being kept waiting."
"She'll wait." Draco said it with such certainty that he had that sort of power over her, and Blaise's cold exterior only hardened further – Draco could tell, and he was sure Theodore could as well.
Before Draco could open his mouth, fully intending to once again mention the unfinished business they apparently had, Blaise turned slightly in his seat. "Malfoy, while I'm sure whatever you have to say is fascinating I'm in the middle of lunch with a friend. A good friend. Who I've had lunch with many times before, and who rates as more important than the one I've only had lunch with once, and met over drinks with a few times before that."
Draco needn't think too hard to realise the metaphor deeply hidden in Blaise's words. Lifting his head up slightly, he couldn't help staring at Blaise for a moment, but the expression on his face didn't change even in the slightest. Fine, then, Draco decided. He could play that way, too.
Blaise seemed to deflate the moment Draco turned his back on them, and Theodore did his best not to notice, but he couldn't help the fact that the wheels had started to turn in his brain.
-
What's going on with you and Blaise?
Nott
-
Theodore has always thought of Blaise as different. Kind of like him. Quiet. Thoughtful. Clever. But he's not, not really. Blaise likes to be enigmatic. Hard to figure out. But he really isn’t. He's all the things Theodore mentioned and more. He's indifferent, saving most emotions only for people deemed "deserving" of something such as that.
Blaise also has the ability to shut people out if he tries hard enough. It's an ability he'd sort of expect in Blaise, his mother being on her eighth husband and all. It would almost be stupid to get attached, wouldn't it?
He saves his snark and generally mean qualities for people who anger him in some capacity, and most of the time he tries to be charming, almost nice.
Maybe that's how Theodore first ended up with him. Or maybe it's something he realised after the fact. The mind plays funny tricks on you, as events cloud your judgement and make you suddenly see things that weren't noticeable before. Like, had Blaise been interested at Hogwarts? Or had it just been random to kiss him when they just happened to run into each other one night after the war had finally ended?
(And, right now, he can't help looking back and wondering about whether Blaise and Malfoy...)
But Blaise likes to be enigmatic, so no matter how many times Theodore asks, he never actually answers. There's always a kiss, or hand (or mouth) on his cock, and for the two years that he and Blaise had been...whatever they were, he could never figure out why.
But he thinks he does, now.
It's because of Malfoy. Maybe not the kiss. But everything after that. And even when he tried to tell himself it couldn't have been the only reason. Theodore just has to remind himself about the awkward run-in at lunch and he's back again.
Blaise likes to think he's enigmatic, even a bit untouchable. Except there's that tiny part of him that isn't. That part of him that has Malfoy in there, somewhere. Theodore doesn't know how much, or to what extent. But he does know it's there. He can sort of see it, not matter how deep Blaise tries to shove it.
He really doesn't need Malfoy to tell him. He knows that he won't, he just asked for confirmation. Malfoy is all snark and sneers, prickish self-importance and rash actions (that make Theodore think on more than one occasion that the blond had actually belonged in Gryffindor but had thought so loudly for Slytherin that the hat gave in without much of a fight), and loyal only to those he really cares for. The point is, Malfoy's none of those things - not all of them, not all the time. He'd like to think so of some of them, yes (the fact that he pretends to not care comes to mind), but that doesn't necessarily make it true.
Theodore thinks there may be something symbolic in Blaise and Draco having similarly false opinions of themselves.
-
Nott,
If Zabini hasn't told you, I'm even less likely to.
Malfoy
-
"You've slept with Malfoy."
Blaise's head jerked up almost instantly and he looked over at Theodore in a bit of surprise at the statement. But he didn't answer, whether negatively or positively.
"How many times?"
Blaise only stared at him for another moment, obviously knowing him well enough to tell without actually having to ask that Theodore had caught on a good while ago and was just getting to the point when he had to ask.
"Once." His answer was quiet, just louder than a whisper, and it could have been obvious to Theodore that whatever relief the answer gave him, it still wasn't a good thing.
"What happened?"
Blaise smiled slightly at that. "Doesn't matter. He's a tosser."
"No." Theodore said, and Blaise looked up again from where he'd been staring a hole into his fine carpet. "It does matter. Especially when he's stopping by our tables at lunch, and you're distant, as if you're thinking about him."
"Why would I be thinking about him?" Blaise asked, still denying anything Theodore had said so far.
"I think you actually care about him."
Blaise actually did laugh at that. If he didn't have self-control, it probably would have came out completely hysterical. As it was, he calmed down quickly. "I had sex with him once, it was a mistake, and it's never going to happen again. That's all."
Theodore smiled thinly at that. "You said something similar about us, didn't you? And yet... here we are."
Blaise's eyes widened a bit, and he couldn't help staring at Theodore, who only shrugged, and then got up. Blaise couldn't move, not even to follow him, and a few minutes later, the front door closed. Sighing, Blaise closed his eyes, running a hand over his face as what Theodore said – scant as it was – sank in. Much as he didn't want to think Theodore knew what he was talking about, he'd known him too well not to consider it.
After all, how else would he explain the fact that when he closed his eyes and thought, he still saw the panicked boy who'd kissed him in the dark of the sixth year boys' dorm. He was stupid, yes, he'd realised that quite a bit ago.
-
You're an idiot, I hope you know that.
Nott
-
Blaise was different.
He'd realised that. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, so similar to the way Draco did. Maybe it was the quiet confidence, the innate sex appeal, the way he didn't even do anything to catch Draco's interest after the first kiss. Maybe it was the way he was always nonchalant about things, the way that he kept his personal stuff close to him. Maybe it was the fact that he intrigued Draco on levels that Draco never really expected.
Maybe it was the look he gave Draco just before he left his room nearly a month or so ago. Maybe it was the look on his face when they had been in that cafe. Maybe it was the fact that he was probably having sex with Nott while Draco sat in his room thinking about it, him. Maybe it was the fact that Theodore had been with him first, and was most likely with him now, and Draco kind of wanted to hex him for it.
Maybe all of that was a lie and it was just the fact that he wanted Blaise.
Merlin, he actually wanted Blaise. Never, ever, not in the past four years, had he ever tossed a glance in the direction of another male in the way he did Blaise. Never did he ever have any thoughts about anyone in the way he thought of Blaise. Never did he imagine or fantasize about anyone in the way he did Blaise. Never had he wanted to fuck, and continue to do so on a regular basis, another person like he did Blaise.
As much as Draco would rather not admit it – even to himself, Blaise had something Draco still wanted. Something not even sex once, twice, or every day for years from now could possibly rid him of. Especially not if the fact that they'd only done it once and yet, he'd find himself thinking about him, having him again. Fucking him against the wall, on a desk, bed, the floor. There really wasn't a surface safe from his imagination.
There was really only one way to fix this and Draco was smart enough this time to realise a heavily disguised proposition for sex was not the answer.
-
Nott,
No. In certain aspects, I'm aware.
Yes.
Malfoy
-
Upon entering the sitting room, Blaise seemed genuinely surprised to find Draco standing there, despite the fact that his house elf had to have told him before hand. Just behind him, however, Draco noticed a half-dressed boy whose name Draco wasn't aware of, and he gave Blaise a look, raising an eyebrow even as that tiny bit of jealousy deep, deep, deep, deep down stirred a bit.
He ignored it. "Multi-tasking?"
"Something like that," Blaise replied coolly, and Draco watched as he led the boy – Boot or something like that – to the fireplace, kissing him briefly before sending him through the floo. Once it was only the two of them, however, he turned to face Draco. His gaze was suspicious, even as he asked, "Is there a reason you're here?"
Draco didn't immediately answer, not being exactly sure what to say. He could be completely unlike himself and admit that, despite his denial of being queer, Blaise had something he wanted. Something he had trouble not thinking about. He could admit that what he'd said had been unnecessary. Or… he could be just like himself and say all of that without actually saying it.
He'd made up his mind before the thought even had an opportunity to process.
"Not really."
Blaise titled his head in interest, his eyes narrowed in a good mix of curiosity and suspicion, but after a moment, his features smoothed out once more. Maybe it was because there was something in the way he'd said it. Maybe it was because what Draco wasn't actually saying was obvious in his voice. Sort of like saying 'I'm sorry' without actually producing those exact words, and though Blaise and Draco definitely couldn't consider themselves friends, they knew well enough after years of being acquainted.
Which might have been why Blaise came to stand before him, though he left a good foot between them, his eyes meeting Draco's as he said, "Would you like a drink?"
Draco supposed that was sort of like being forgiven.
"I wouldn't mind one." Draco answered, but Blaise didn't move and Draco didn't point that out as they stood silently watching each other. And when Draco took a step closer, Blaise's breath hitched just slightly in what Draco was sure was anticipation. Just like that he'd made it up in his mind that he was going to do it and leaned forward the few inches it took for his mouth to meet Blaise's. It was soft and short, and Draco pulled back for a moment, though he left no more than a centimetre or so of space between them and gave Blaise plenty of time to stop him before Draco kissed him again, coaxing in nature and despite any thoughts Blaise could have had otherwise, he slowly started to give in until they were clutching at each other and only forced to separate for lack of breath.
"What happened to not being queer?" Though breathless, the question still managed to convey Blaise's amusement.
"Exception to the rule." The smirk on Draco's face could have either been because that was the truth, or because it was a lie. Maybe even a complicated mix of both. "And your… friends?"
"Have nothing to do with this, Malfoy. Unless…" Blaise adorned a smirk of his own, "you're going to get jealous."
"Not likely."
"Good."
Draco didn't know what it was, but it sounded to him as if they were both lying; he wondered if Blaise had caught on to that himself. Even still, it wasn't nearly as important as Blaise pulling him into another kiss.