"Oh, for fuck's sake," Draco muttered, reaching over the bar and grabbing some napkins from the pile between empty glasses, tossing them over the spilt drink and handing the sorry bastard a few. In a weird way, this man reminded him of Crabbe, and it brought back an unseasy quivering sensation in his stomach - a feeling of wasted friendship long gone.
"Just because I have blond hair and a twenty-eight inch waist does not mean I'm not deep," he sniffed, trying his best to smile despite their uncomfortable proximity and the way he wanted it to come off as not flirting.