Webbing the Lies
Blaise was never one to feel stressed. He rarely worried about his marks as much as he should, and even when exams rolled around, while everyone was panicking to study, he was still calm and collected. Actually, the last time the boy remembered being stressed was when his mother was brought to court when her most recent husband had past away. It had been the first time that she had been a suspect, and Blaise couldn't help but worry day in and day out that his mother might not be there for him when he returned from school that summer.
Then again, it was her who taught him to not stress. Stress was not a good look for a person. You become tired, worried, lost in thought often, sometimes you forget things, and most often you became irritable, nervous, and overwhelmed. That much pressure, it usually shows, and it's not usually attractive. A Zabini always had to be attractive.
Blaise had no idea why he was so stressed suddenly either. For a boy who was so calm in the most overwhelming situations, why was it now, while things were going quite well, that he felt that horrible twisting nervousness settling in the pit of his stomach? It's not like anything special was happening, other then the fact that he was in a game with Draco that was basically a toss up for who could win. But, it's not even that Draco winning would be that bad. It had never been bad before, on the contrary, usually they were both rewarded, no matter who won.
Blaise couldn't help a smirk at the thought, then groaned at himself, giving his head the smallest of shakes as he walked, ridding himself of the thought. No, he had to figure out what was making him feel this way. He had to know why his fingers were shaking.
Perhaps it was because Blaise wasn't much of a liar. Yes, you could argue that he was good at lying when he needed to be, and he would not disagree, but he still would rather avoid it. And he was slowly realizing how hard it would be to avoid lies in the deep, twisted web of them that he was weaving.
The boy sighed, running those fingers through his hair, trying his best to calm down slightly. No, he was calm, his heart was a steady rhythm, his breathing was stable, outwardly he seemed fine, but he still felt the stress, like a churning in his stomach. Was everyone this on edge when trying to keep their well thought out deception going? Had his mother been this stressed when she had told the court that William had died because his dragon stake had not been cooked properly?
The Slytherin was heading for the Great Hall, it was dinner and he hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning (he has used his lunch hour to catch up on a bit of homework he had fallen behind on). He felt a tightness in his stomach that would signal hunger, and he wouldn't refuse himself, despite the fact that he would very much like the stay away from crowds in his state. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he wasn't sure which, the moment that the smell of the food lingered out of the hall and under his nose he sneered. His stomach twisted from his stress and the smell made him want to puke, even though it was very inviting. No, he simply just didn't have an appetite.
Instead, he changed his direction to the Common rooms, wondering if maybe after a bit of a lie-down he would feel better. If it was too late for dinner when he got his appetite back he could head down to the kitchens for a snack.
The common room was completely empty when he entered, and he sighed again, glad that he wouldn't run into anyone who might ask him what was wrong. He didn't feel like trying to make an excuse for his appearance, which probably resembled how tired he actually felt now.
His bed in the dorm was amazingly inviting as he felt down on it, letting his face bury in the pillow, which still smelt faintly of Draco from a couple of evenings before. Another sigh and Blaise turned over onto his back, feeling his stomach twist again at the thought of that night. Something had happened during that time together. Something, important, and Blaise just wasn't sure what it was. The game, the rules, Hermione, Draco.
The rules. Blaise glanced to his bedside table absentmindedly, where the rules hid in the pages of one of the five novels he kept in the drawer. He wasn't sure what he had expected to see by looking at the drawer, as if the rules knew they were being thought about and would suddenly expose themselves, but once he did glance he realized something he had missed when entering the room.
The drawer that held those five books was ajar, opened the slightest bit more then it should be, and a dread fell over the boy. Who had been through his things, and what if they had found that piece of paper? Blaise shot up and yanked the handle on the drawer, pulling it open and grabbing quickly for the hardcover that hid the parchment. He shook it over his bed, and, with a sigh of relief, the parchment fell out onto his sheets.
His heartbeat hitched and his mind thoroughly shaken, he grabbed the paper, unfolding it once to make sure it was the rules that his quill had scrolled out that night, then replaced the parchment back in the book and the book back in the drawer. He paused before shutting it though, realizing something was in fact missing as he thought, but it wasn't what he would have assumed.
The five novels that normal sit in the drawer had become four.
Blaise frowned slightly, wondering who from his dorm would take one of his books, and concluding that neither Crabbe, Goyle, nor Nott would take a book unless they had needed it as a paperweight. The boy took a glance around, as if this would somehow reveal to him who had stole the novel, then groaned in annoyance as he shut the drawer. One more thing to worry about. Someone was out stealing books.
The dark haired boy forced himself up and out of the dorms, wondering for a moment if anyone had returned to the common room, and thinking that if so, maybe they could help him in his search. Blaise made himself go check before he lost interest and didn't have the will to get up from his bed. He shut the dorm door behind him and turned to go back down the stairs to the common room, but paused when he past one of the doors on the way down. It was shut, which wasn't exactly a rare occasion with this door considering it was the entrance to Draco's Head Boy dorm. After all, Draco had many, many reasons to keep it closed most of the time, considering what went on inside. And usually, even when he wasn't inside, it would be closed and locked, to keep people from rutting around in his things. The thing was, when Blaise past this door he felt something tug at his gut, like he was no longer alone.
There was no harm in knocking was there? Perhaps Draco might know who had his book, and if Draco wasn't there, then Blaise would just leave. The boy found himself gnawing at his lower lip, torn for a moment between spending some time with his best friend and spending some time with the boy he hated right now for being so good at the game they were tangled in.
Of course, when it came to Draco, you did not give up time with him if you could get it, and Blaise knew this all to well.
His knuckles tapped on the wood of the door timidly, feeling his anxiety sprout again, but it quickly disappeared when Draco's voice sounded from the other side, and Blaise felt his throat tighten, distracting from the nervousness. Why was he nervous anyway? It was just Draco.
"Come in." It said, smooth, calm, and the click of the door being unlocked signaled Blaise to enter. He did immediately, wrapping a hand around the knob and turning it, pushing the door opened and slinking himself into the room with a catlike grace that he had adopted from the blonde. Draco had looked up, locking the boy in a silver gaze from his spot on his bed and Blaise couldn't help but return a smile when the blonde had let one slip onto his face.
"Hey." He said simply, and Blaise shut the door behind him, hearing the lock catch after the door had been closed. He offered another smile before replying.
"Hey. I was just-" Blaise paused his explanation, having the answer before he got it all out, because held in those familiar thin fingers of his friend was the hardcover that had been missing from his drawer. He let out a small chuckle at himself, and how he had stressed over who had maybe had it.
"Wondering who took my book." He finished, realizing Draco was looking at him in a questioning way, and when Blaise pointed to the book the boy held, Draco also let out a chuckle.
"Yeah, I hope you don't mind, Granger got me wondering what all the hype was about these muggle authors." Draco said, explaining his reasoning behind taking the book, and Blaise let a shrug roll over his shoulders, even though he had felt an annoyance fall over himself at Draco's mention of Hermione. He didn't even know that she had told him about the kiss. And Draco was just going to sit there and not mention it.
"Granger rubbing off on you? That's something I never thought I would hear." Blaise commented, trying his best to not seem irritated with the blonde, and he was obviously doing a good job because Draco simply laughed in reply.
"I wouldn't say she's rubbing off." He said, glancing away from the pages of the book as Blaise decided to wander closer. All this being irritated had made another wave of tiredness fall over him, and the side of Draco bed that was free had looked very welcoming.
"You alright?" Draco asked, Blaise letting out a laugh as he let himself fall on the bed with the blonde, noticing that he had been dreading this question from anyone else, but it seemed that Draco asking it was fine, even though the blonde was most likely the central cause of Blaise's stress.
"I think I'm just a little tired." Blaise replied with another lie. It always astounded him that he could lie so simply to Draco, while if anyone else bent the truth around the boy he always knew. Maybe Draco just didn't want to think Blaise was being dishonest?
Blaise secured his lie by snaking his hands under the pillow that sat in front of him and then letting his head fall comfortably on it as he laid on his stomach, much like he had been back in his own bed. Of course, if he thought his pillow smelt like the blonde, then this one smelt as if it was doused in the boy's cologne. It was overwhelming, but in a surprisingly good way, warm on his senses, and he couldn't help but sigh when Draco touch joined the scent, his fingers brushing casually though Blaise's dark hair in a comforting manner.
Blaise turn his head towards Draco so he could watch him, those silver eyes turned back to the pages of the book he had stolen, and suddenly the laying Slytherin could not be mad at his friend anymore. Even though he had gotten Hermione to kiss him, he was catching up in their game with increasing speed, and he was not going to tell Blaise that he had been working to sabotage the boy's lead. Even though he was manipulative and deceptive, secretive and twisted, and on top of all that he had stolen Blaise's book, Blaise just couldn't be mad. Because he was Draco, and if you knew Draco you knew he had a way of turning any emotion around. Nobody wanted to hate Draco, because to hate him meant you didn't want him.
And everybody wanted him.
Blaise sighed, annoyed with himself now because he couldn't be angry with the boy, and Draco took notice.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, and Blaise let a shrug come to his shoulders before taking a moment to think. What was he thinking about? He was thinking about the game. He was thinking about Hermione, her quirky, innocent grin and how quickly she had offered herself into a relationship. Her smell, the way she kissed, and how she was willing to deceive with him, make up a lie with him, and the guilt he had that she trusted him. He was thinking about Draco, and how even best friends held secrets, from each other and from the world. After all, Draco didn't know that Blaise and Hermione had a plan against him, and Draco also didn't know that the fact that he had gotten Hermione to kiss him was no longer a secret.
And yet, even though he felt guilty beyond belief, he knew this was the prefect time, it was the prefect question, and if Blaise didn't set the plan into motion now, he wouldn't get another chance.
"Hermione is confused." He offered, lifting his gaze when he felt the blonde's silver eyes fall on him.
"About what?" Draco asked, and Blaise held back from rolling his eyes, because he knew that Draco knew what it was about. He could see it mingling in the depth of the boy's black pupils, a flicker of self pride that only Blaise would be able to see from his friend.
"Us. She told me she isn't sure she wants to be with me. She told me that she had to think." The boy replied, and Draco's eyes moved away, giving a sound of understanding as a reply, but nothing more. Of course. Blaise knew that Draco was probably laughing with glee on the inside, because as far as he knew, he had once again managed to sway someones opinion on him. Blaise found himself slightly annoyed, knowing that to Draco, Hermione was just another girl, another girl that he managed to make fawn over him, but for Blaise...
What was she for Blaise?
"I think you're winning." Blaise added, securing his 'thought' and he heard Draco sigh slightly, a shake of the blondes head, and Blaise felt something tug inside of him as he realized the serious tone of that sigh.
"Let's not talk about it ok? The game I mean." Draco had said, this time looking Blaise in the eye, and the dark haired boy was left speechless for a moment. Draco had seemed sympathetic there, honestly sad that his friend was so annoyed with the situation, and Blaise felt the guilt tug at him again at the fact that he knew his own frustrated aura was all a lie, and yet, was convincing Draco. Blaise cleared his throat quietly, and nodding, agreeing to forget about Hermione's 'indecision', and he received a twitch in Draco's lip, the slightest bit of a smile.
"Why are you reading this anyway?" Blaise asked, wanting to distract himself from the guilt, from the lies. He didn't want to be mad; he didn't want to be stressed. He just wanted Draco to provide him something to give his attention to.
"I thought I'd try and see why you like these muggle writers so much." Draco said, scratching his nails lightly on the back of Blaise's neck, causing a chill to crawl up his spine.
"You're reading for me?" Blaise asked slyly, and caught a smirk crawl onto Draco's face at the words. Before he replied, his hand rubbed gently over the vertebrae in which Blaise's neck met his backbone, roaming just under the collar of his shirt, causing Blaise to let his eyes fall shut. Draco did a wonderful job at distracting.
"Don't think too much into it. I still can't even focus enough to finish one page." Draco said, poking fun at himself slightly, and causing a grin to fall over Blaise's face. Was he really going to play along with this? Of course. He always did, if things changed now, Blaise might just blow the cover that he had so meticulously set into place.
"Still." Blaise said, finally sitting up, not being able to take that evocative touch anymore unless he was returning it. He found himself annoyed for the smallest moment that Draco had played him, lured him into this situation so easily, but at the same time, all the more happy, because it was something that would smother his nerves. Draco had known he wanted it, wanted something strong to fog his thoughts.
"It's a bit of a turn on." He finished, seeing that familiar smirk on Draco's thin lips curl again, before leaning forward and kissing it, making it grow, like a reflex, after Blaise had pulled away. Draco wrapped the hand that had been in Blaise's hair moments before around a piece of his shirt and pulled him back to touch lips again.
"I'm never going to finish the book at this rate." Draco muttered, causing Blaise to chuckle faintly as he turned his head slightly and pulled the book from his hands, tossing it aside and returning to the blonde when his shirt was pulled again.
Blaise was surprise at how fast it came this time. That feeling, the burning pressure that swelled in his gut and rose in his chest, causing him to groan slightly when Draco pushed into his lips, and leading the dark haired boy to pulling the blonde up on his knees so they could be closer. He attacked Draco's neck, unbuttoning the top of his shirt so he could bite at the tender skin of the boy's collarbone, resulting in a gasp from the blonde, one of such an amazing tone that it caused Blaise's stomach to flip. The pressure, it was uncontrollable, strong, and this time he knew that Draco felt it too. The smirk that was always on his face, tauntingly tugging at Blaise's last nerve as he fell apart under Draco skilled kisses, was no longer there. His fingers, which were often meticulously placed and moved, were shaking the slightest bit as they tried to follow suit and unbutton Blaise's shirt to get at more neck.
Blaise kissed the boy's mouth again, and before he knew it Draco had grabbed him around the neck and was begging for him to part his lips. There was a moment of panic, for that was newly treaded ground for the both, something Blaise didn't exactly see as intimate, but more intimate then any of their juvenile kissing, necking, touching. And yet, there was no pause between Draco's beg for entrance and Blaise obliging. Their tongues tangled, Blaise overwhelmed with an additive new flavor. Spicy and slightly bitter, but at the same time, sweet, warm. Behind all that he tasted the faintest reminisce of artificial strawberries, and knew that Draco had tasted Hermione in this way mere hours ago.
Blaise let a hand crawl into Draco's hair, getting the smallest sounds for the blonde and he pulled in a little closer, teeth grazing, exchanging breathes, and the pressure paused for a moment as the kiss distracted it. It was like they had forgotten about everything else, forgot about grabbing roughly at each other, and they suddenly became gentler, the fast pace attacks of before slowing until they finally broke apart.
Blaise was bewildered for a moment, breathing heavy with Draco, inhaling his sweet breath and getting dizzy over it. He was stunned by how they had pushed their usual boundaries, and pleased by the outcome, loving the flaxen hair that danced around his features on their breathes, the flush he saw on Draco's cheeks when he had let his eyes open. Of course, he couldn't shake the thought that pushed into his head for a spilt second after they had parted.
They were not fucking around anymore.
He pushed into another kiss, refusing to think of that, and Draco accepted, the intensity increasing quickly again, but being broken in a spilt second when a knock came to the locked door. Blaise found his hand gripping rough around the blonde's thin hips, as if to hold him if he went to move away, but he didn't budge.
"Don't." He whispered after they had parted for another breath, demanding the blonde to forget the door, to stay with him, and Draco muttered a 'no' before pushing a kiss onto him again.
Blaise had found a tender spot on Draco neck, one that caused him to fist his hand in the dark hair it was tangled in and bite at his lower lip to hold back a sound that Blaise knew was stuck in his throat. But just as Blaise was sure he was going to get a satisfying moan out of Draco any moment, there was a second knock, a voice along with it.
"Draco hunny, it's Tracey, open up please." The voice was muted slightly, being blocked out by the door, but they had both heard it.
"Bugger." Draco had mumbled, the harsh word replacing whatever he had been holding back from letting escape his lips, and Blaise, who had thoroughly lost the moment at the sound of Tracey's voice, sighed against his neck, feeling the blonde's skin shiver at the warm breath.
"Answer it." Blaise said, knowing there was no point in fighting it anymore, and Draco sighed himself before getting off the bed and running fingers through his hair.
"Just a second." He called, button his shirt back up, fixing his tie a bit and inspecting himself in a mirror. Blaise watched him, now lying back on the bed, not bothering to do anything to fix himself up other then petting his hair down the slightest bit. Draco really was the master of deception. Even his flush went away quickly.
When he answered the door, slender arms went around his neck immediately, delicate female fingers tangling in the blonde hair and causing it to be just as astray as moments before.
"Where were you at dinner babe? You keep disappearing like this and I'm going to think you're seeing someone else." There was a girlish giggle as Tracey made this jest, and she tried to pull Draco into a kiss, but he turned his head in Blaise's direction, and with the clear of his throat Tracey realized they were not alone. The grin that was on her lips had fallen for a moment, but, to disguise her disappointment, she forced it back on.
"Blaise." She said, her voice revealing her annoyance that the dark haired Slytherin was there, but Blaise felt absolutely no remorse for her, only because of what she had just interrupted herself.
"Well, maybe I'll just leave you two. It's obvious that Tracey doesn't want me here, no matter how much she likes me." Blaise said, not even acknowledging the girls greeting, but faking a tone of voice that made it seems as if he was leaving as a generous gesture for her. She had let the smile become a real one, a bit of a 'thank you' in her eyes as he made contact with them, and the boy held back from gagging.
"Blaise, you don't have to go." Draco said, more then quietly as he followed Blaise to the door, Tracey turning away to sit herself on the bed, waiting for Blaise to leave. The dark haired boy held back a laugh, and simply let it shine in his eyes, shaking his head slightly.
"Yes I do. You know I do." He replied in a whisper. He really didn't like this, everything felt awkward, and he didn't like Tracey's eyes on him over Draco's shoulder. He felt completely revealed, like they had just been caught, and he became overly conscious of the fact that the collar of his shirt was still opened. Why hadn't he fixed it? Was he asking for suspicion? Women were strangely perceptive to things, it was a bad idea that he hadn't left yet.
"I don't want you to leave." Draco had said, putting his hand on the door to keep Blaise from pulling it open, his voice still low, although Blaise could hear the seriousness of the tone this time. Again, there was an honestly hidden in the blonde's eyes, and it was so intense that it caused Blaise's glance to move to the floor. He couldn't stand Draco being honest with him, not when he remembered how truly deceitful he was being back.
"Draco?" Tracey had taken his name right out of Blaise's mouth, for the boy had just parted his lips to utter it as well. They both looked at her, the dark haired girl sitting on the bed in expectation, an impatience growing around her, and Blaise let a silent sigh escape his lips.
"It's not worth the suspicion." Blaise said, trying to convince Draco, and seeing him winning the blonde over. They couldn't keep up like this, and keep Tracey waiting. She would ask questions, questions that would be better avoided.
"We'll talk later." Blaise finished, his voice raised slightly this time in hope that Tracey would hear him, and dared a glance in her direction before clearing his throat and pulling at the door, which opened because Draco had relieved the weight he had on it to keep it closed. Blaise closed the door behind him, and once again heard the lock click behind him, letting out the heavy sigh that he had been holding back. He found his breath shaken, and his mouth dry, and disappointment hovering over him as he moved to return back to his dorm.
Blaise sat on the edge of his bed, and as he heart calmed and the fog around his mind floated away, he realized exactly how horrible he felt. This was an awful sensation, something much worst then before he had set foot into Draco's dorm. He felt exhausted, frustrated, betrayed, guilty, used, and jealous, and neither sensation was stronger then they others. Blaise let the palms of his hands press into his eyes as he sat, until the feelings brewed so strong that it caused him to flail, grabbing a pillow and tossing it across the room, knocking over a lamp. It fell on one of the mattresses, and Blaise was torn between thankfulness and annoyance, glad that it hadn't fallen on the floor and smashed, drawing attention, but also upset that his burst of angry at not resulted in a satisfying shatter of something.
Why was he so hard to please lately?