Lying from You



Disclaimer: They are not mind. Get it? Not mind. So leave me in peace and just read the story.

Warning: Contains slash.

Definitely not something I thought I would write. It's a wee bit cheerful. And for the fans of Torturous Affections, thank you and be patient, I will continue, I just tend to digress a lot.


Leaning against the pillar with a lukewarm cup of coffee in his hand, he had only One purpose: To crash straight into a rich looking guy and spill coffee all over him.

The blond smiled as he spotted someone in a white blouse and black dress pants. Not too a target, he thought. Besides I have already exceeded my goal for the day. Casually he pushed himself off from his position. Quickening his footsteps, he assumed the stance of someone in walking in deep concentration.

His ploy was executed perfectly when his quarry bumped right into him. Smoothly he tilted his cup of coffee and pretended to trip. His movements, unbeknownst to the unaware was to coat the other party's shirt with the brown liquid and land clumsily, albeit directly on top of the person, effectively rendering both of them wet, sticky and a rather horrid shade of brown.

Aha! Part one of the pan, flawlessly executed.

Blinking his eyes in innocent surprise he looked down at the person lying rather awkwardly beneath him. Unruly black hair, black rimmed glasses, green eyes, tanned skin. Or maybe that was the coffee, sliding its way down the person's chin.

"Oh my, oh my," The blond got up, having the decency to look embarrassed. "Are you hurt? Oh look at your shirt. How clumsy of me. And you hair, its got coffee in it."

Suddenly as if remembering his manners, he offered his hand to the shocked boy, still lying lamely on his back.

"Oh, I really feel bad about this, Mr…."

"Potter, Harry Potter," was the brunette's reply.

"Oh Mr Potter, please, let me make this up to you. I am Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Erm, care to come over to my apartment? It is rather near here and we could both use a clean-up."

Unsure of what to do, Harry stuffed his hands in his pocket and hesitated. He did not have the time however before the other guy who had introduced himself as Draco Malfoy grabbed hold of his hand and started to half drag him across the street.

Harry gave in, and let his legs do the job of walking to the golden haired boy's apartment. He had absolutely no idea how funny they must have looked until he overhead someone saying, "Lover's quarrel eh? Heh, how amusing. Youngsters these days."

Harry blushed but before he had the time to come up with a self-righteous and indignant retort, Draco had already pulled him across the road.

Meanwhile, Draco smirked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This Potter guy was way too easy. He had hardly protested to Draco's 'manhandling' of him and had not even demanded an explanation. Talking about that, Draco had not even needed to apologize properly.

But besides, he thought smugly. Malfoys do not say sorry. There simply was no need.


Draco sat on the couch, holding a cup of coffee, this time for drinking. He was clothed in his boxers alone, having thrown the soiled laundry into the washing machine. His pants were unharmed in reality but he did not quite care about that factor. Besides, he preferred dressing lightly.

"So hey, erm, where do I put this?" Harry questioned as he walked gingerly out of the bathroom, holding his limp shirt in his hand.

Responding with a slight snort, Draco merely mumbled "In the washer," before turning back to his television screen.

Harry walked over and placed his clothes in. Now he had a problem. He had absolutely no idea how to start the sophisticated looking thing. First off, he had no acquired the knowledge of mechanical gadgets in the previous orphanages or homes where he had stayed in. Hurriedly, he threw those thought of homes out of his mind as he faced his new enemy: the washing machine.

Draco was watching Harry bemusedly. He sure acts funny, reflected Draco. Acting on impulse, he padded softly before sneaking behind Harry. Snaking his arms towards Harry's pants, he tried to locate the pocket where the wallet was situated.

"Quit staring at it will you, it won't explode," came a cheeky voice and Harry jumped, involuntarily shocked.

Draco took hold of the moment to slide his hand into the pocket. However, with that shock, Harry's sense had gone on high alert and he caught sight of Draco's hand movement, ever so slight. Deftly catching Draco's wrist, Harry turned, ready to question what Draco was doing. But at the same moment, Draco slipped his other arm round Harry's waist and started to move to his.. well.. lower region.

The uncalled for movement practically had Harry leaping out of his skin. "Just what do you think you are doing Malfoy?"

He had not counted on receiving a completely chaste look on Draco's face. "Simply helping you to unzip. Don't you want to wash your pants too? You looked so enthralled by the sight of the machine that I thought I might as well do you a favour," was the response.

When Harry stayed quiet, still looking a little out of place, Draco placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. ""Aww come on.." he gave a half pout, "I'll leave you to the bathroom then. Don't be angry."

Then as Harry stepped in, Draco added as an afterthought. "There are no locks though."

"Umm, er, well, could I borrow a, uh, shirt then. I'm sort of in a hurry. I'll come over to er return it ehm tomorrow."

Draco caught the blatant lie on Harry's part but did not comment. He merely walked into his room and pulled out a blouse.

Holding it out, he managed an apology of sorts. "That's about the only thing I can find that goes with the pants."

Blushing even a darker shade of red then when Draco had 'touched' him, Harry took the blouse and muttered a thank you. Flustered, he slid his arms into the article and hurried out of the kitchen and there by making a major mistake on his part – he forgot to look where he was going and Harry, being Harry, tripped ungainly over the kitchen step.

            Stretching his arms out in a desperate attempt to get hold of an anchor, he held on to something soft and silky. He noted later, it was a royal blue colour. It broke his fall obviously, and he hardly smashed against the floor. However, his glasses did fall off. Painfully ignorant of the whole situation, he let go of the material and started to grope around for his glasses, only to find when his vision cleared, a Malfoy in his complete splendor.

"I… uh.. erm.. I … Erm.. Well.. er.. Sorry.. er.."

Draco cut him off playfully with a tilt of his hips. "Now now Potter. You really don't have to resort to such means to take revenge for the certain invasion of your privacy."

If Harry had gotten any redder at the moment, Draco would have thrown him straight into a bucket of ice. He watched laughing, as Harry sped out of the house, still fumbling and trying desperately to button up his blouse.

Well, that was rather amusing, mused Draco, and Potter is certainly not bad looking. However, his face clouded over when he thought of his failed attempt. Eyes narrowing, thoughts of revenge crossed his mind – one being murder. He hurriedly pried his minds away from that path.

Speaking of murder however, he had to go to visit his father, in jail. And he expected no happy reunion, especially now that he had failed.


A/N: Ah, my lousy attempt at humour. I shall confess a secret to you. *leans forward with a secret look* *takes a deep breath dramatically* I have written chapter 2 and 3 of this, I am just too lazy to type it out. I need encouragement. Heh. Oh yes, confession number 2, I've written up to chap4 of Torturous Affections but I'm being a lazy ass. I hate typing. Draco's character is my own unique viewpoint. You will learn more about him. So go on, review.