Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the fantastic magical world is mine. Those belong to J.K. Rowling. The only thing that belongs to me is the angst-filled, horrible plot bunny that hops around my head and bursts out of my ears. And that is really only written down for your enjoyment [and my relief].

Summary: Relationships aren't simple, especially when they're only one-sided. Draco/Blaise

A/N: Tell me what you think. These plot bunnies are dangerous.


"Flip over." Blaise's almond eyes were impassive, and his voice commanding. But Draco paused, grabbing his arms.

"Please. You know how much I hate it. Just let me look at you." Blaise yanked his arms away and sneered.

"Flip over." Any hope in Draco's face disappeared, and he obeyed. As Draco pressed himself to the bed, sorrow written on his face, Blaise conjured a tube of lubricant. Silently, he covered his cock in the transparent substance, and aligned himself with Draco. "You ready?" Before he even allowed the blond to answer, he entered. Draco clutched the sheets and stifled a sob. Pain shot through his body as Blaise thrust in and out. He just wanted it to be over. They didn't say anything, and the only sounds that filled the air were grunts and moans from Blaise. That's how it always was. Blaise sudden dug his nails into his skin, and gasped, hitting his release. After that, Blaise simply pulled out and lay next to Draco, exhausted. Draco turned around to face him, wincing in pain.

"I love you." Draco barely whispered it, but Blaise was suddenly hovering above him, and his hand flew out, striking Draco in the face. There was blood pouring down his face, and there was a sudden crunching sound as his nose broke. Draco's eyes watered in pain.

"Don't say that. Don't you ever say that." Blaise pulled back and grabbed his boxers. His hardened almond eyes betrayed only anger. Draco only continued, getting onto the topic that he really seemed to want to discuss.

"Are you fucking Potter?"

"Well, that was rather blunt." Blaise only continued to put his clothes on.

"Are you?" Blaise smirked, but didn't even look over.

"That's for me to know and you to find out only if I decide to tell you." Draco pulled himself out of bed and glared at Blaise.

"I know you're doing something with him. Are you just snogging or are you shagging him behind my back?" Finally, Blaise set down the tie and looked at Draco.

"How would you know?"

"It's not like you hide it! I've seen you wink at him and the way your hands 'accidently' touch. He stares at you all the time. You're practically bragging about it in front of me!" Draco sounded more wounded than angry, but Blaise's smirk only widened. He looked so satisfied with himself.

"So what if I have, what's it to you?"

"Then you have shagged him." Hurt flashed in Draco's eyes.

"Maybe. He was easy enough to get. All I had to do was send him a few anonymous roses and chocolates and tell him I loved him. When I cornered him and told him I sent them, he fell for me pretty much right away. Always knew he was a poof."

"You told him you loved him?" Draco grabbed Blaise by the wrists again, but only got thrown back on the bed. "Why can't you just tell me that, too?" He desperately looked up at Blaise. Draco's usually condescending expression was replaced by wide vulnerable eyes and an insane helplessness.

"Because you know it's not true. He doesn't."

"But it could be true. You'll never love him, but you know that I'll never leave you. I won't hate you if you join the Dark Lord. I can be trusted more than he can!" Somehow, Draco had managed to pull himself over to the edge of the bed and stood up. Blaise was fully clothed by now.

"Oh, I know what this is about. It's because he's beaten you at something else, isn't it? First he refused to be your friend – turns you down for a Mudblood. Then, he turns out to be better than you at Quidditch. We all know how humiliating that was. It was a bit pathetic watching you fail for Slytherin over and over again. What kind of a Pureblood loses to a half-blood?"

"Shut up!"

"Then, in second year, he beat you in duelling club. And he turned out to have more in common with Dark Lord and Salazar than you did. He spoke perfect Parsletongue."

"I said shut up!" Anger and pain contorted his face.

"Everyone liked him better than you. After all, he is the Chosen One. He even shags better than you do." Draco's hand lashed out, but Blaise had anticipated it, and caught it before it struck his face. Draco's entire body trembled, and his eyes watered. It was almost impossible to shove back the tears. When Blaise only looked at him with the same inscrutable expression, Draco collapsed and buried his head in his hands.


"Why? The world doesn't revolve around you, Draco. Grow up. You're nothing more than someone to fuck. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't still be here. Don't you get it – I don't care about you."

"But I love you." Blaise's hand reached out again, and he grabbed Draco, throwing him to the bed. With one hand, his nails dug into the blond's face and blood leaked from underneath his fingers. The other jabbed a wand in Draco's throat. Blaise only leered at him.

"I told you never to fucking say that." He pulled back, tossing Draco a final look as he walked out of the room. "Go wash off your damn face." As always, Draco simply obeyed.