Who: Draco and Adrian
What: dance lessons
Where: Adrian's flat
When: Tonight!
Rated: Probably R for language



Draco didn't bother to knock. He never did. He decided long ago that privacy, while treasured, was a luxury he felt many people didn't deserve. People with things to hide, skeletons in their closet, weren't people he wanted to associate with. He much rather liked to find things out up front and choose whether or not to continue relations with the person in question. It was so much easier when things were out in the open, too. After hiding many of his own issues for so long, he realized he felt much better when he was honest.

And so, apparating on the front step of Adrian's flat, he walked straight in the house. He took a glance around. Thankfully Rosemary, the sex doll Draco discovered the first time he had walked straight in, was put away or, at the very least not in some wretchedly disturbing position next to the window. He shuddered at the thought of needing an inanimate object just to make love to something. Perhaps these dance lessons would be the catalyst Adrian needed to finally get rid of her and fucking something that breathed.

"Oi. Pucey. Where are you?" He slumped down on the sofa and cross his legs.