Filthy Living

'Here's your washing, Princess,' snarled Ron, dumping an armful of freshly laundered shirts onto the unmade bed.

Draco, in the act of pulling on his socks, looked round. 'The only clean things in this dump.'

Ron sighed, shifted a few shirts and flopped down on the mattress. He'd known from the beginning that the two of them keeping an orderly abode would be impossible. Ron couldn't exactly be described as organised and Draco, who'd always had house elves to tidy up after him, was even worse. Inevitably, their shared flat constantly looked as if a small tornado had just hit.

'Look at this place,' Draco scoffed. 'We're living like fucking paupers.'

'That's one way of putting it,' said Ron in an undertone.

'Where the hell is my left shoe?' raged Draco, storming into the living room.

Warily, Ron followed to find him kicking around magazines and empty takeaway cartons from the previous night's dinner. It was one of those mornings.

'Where the fuck is it?'

Ron moved towards the coffee table. He had a vague hunch...

Six seconds later he emerged with the missing shoe.

'How did that happen? I didn't put it there last night,' Draco insisted angrily.

'Draco,' said Ron, eyebrows raised. 'Do you remember last night?'

Straight after Draco arrived home they'd half stripped on the couch before managing to stumble into the bedroom. In fact, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence; Ron was still finding his missing clothing in the oddest places.

'Oh, right,' Draco conceded.

Ron smirked. 'Come here.'

Surprisingly, Draco obeyed. Ron straightened his tie and smoothed the shoulders of his robes but didn't dare touch Draco's hair. It was perfect anyway.

'You smell good,' murmured Ron.

'That makes one of us.' His lip quirked up on one side.

'Shut up. I don't have to go to work; I can smell as much as I want.'

'Fucking Quidditch players. And so you get paid millions to do shit all every week.'

Draco knew perfectly well that Ron trained six days a week, and ridiculous hours at that. Both of them were also aware that compared to Draco's salary, the amount that a Beater made was nothing, even if he was the best in the League.

'Mm,' agreed Ron distractedly.

'You should really get dressed,' swallowed Draco. Ron, who'd had the luxury of a sleep-in, was still in his boxers, leaving rather deliciously exposed a lean chest, taut stomach and burnished red trail snaking down from his belly. Practically begging Draco to follow it. 'Brush your teeth, for Merlin's sake. Take a shower.'

'Care to join me?'

'Tease.' Draco pulled away. 'I'd never find my shoes again. It's already eight-thirty.'

'S'pose.'

Reluctantly, but quickly in case his common sense gave out in the presence of a half-naked Ron Weasley, Draco gathered his things. Although as he reached the door, he stopped to turn back.

'Is anyone coming over tonight?'

The state of the apartment was nowhere near fit for entertaining guests and yet that didn't seem to faze the usual crowd who tended to drop by frequently and unannounced. Harry, Parvati, Blaise, Ginny, Hermione and Pansy were the most welcome with Fred and George being the least. Luckily, the twins didn't have too much spare time or Ron and Draco might have considered moving to another country. Honestly, it was truly disturbing how much his brothers needed to know about his sex life...

Ron absently rubbed his torso in thought. 'No, don't think so...'

'Good. Don't let them,' said Draco, and slammed the door shut.

*

When he reached home that night, Draco froze in the doorway.

Ron, coming in and seeing his horrified face, started smiling.

'I tidied up a bit,' he said.

'A bit?' echoed Draco. 'I thought a burglar had stolen all our stuff.'

'Yeah well...there was a hell of a lot of it lying around.'

'Ah...'

'What, you preferred it the other way?'

'No, it's good. Just shocking.' Draco grinned. 'So where's dinner, honey?'

'Fuck off,' was Ron's reply. 'I'm not bloody cooking, after cleaning all day.'

At that moment a knock sounded at the door.

'Hellooo! Open up! It's your two most favourite ever people in the world!' sang Parvati.

Silence. Draco and Ron looked helplessly at each other.

'Guys?' Silence. And then, 'I think they're probably screwing,' said Parvati in a loud mock-whisper.

'Parvati!' Harry's voice sounded muffled and horrified.

There was giggling, and more knocking after that.

'Aw, come on guys,' Parvati pleaded.

'We bought Indian,' Harry enticed.

'Duh.'

'No, not you, Parvati-the food.'

A brief pause, until Draco called out suspiciously, 'Homemade?'

'As if!' laughed Parvati. 'I'm offended that you even asked.'

'Thank Merlin,' said Ron. 'I don't ever plan on eating her cooking.'

'Shall we?' asked Draco.

Ron hesitated. It was a tough choice...

His stomach grumbled loudly, making the decision for him. Draco rolled his eyes and opened the door.

'Evening, beautiful,' greeted Parvati cheerfully as she and Harry entered the room. Suddenly and simultaneously, the smiles vanished from their faces.

'Did we step into the wrong place?' exclaimed Harry, awed.

'Omigod!' cried Parvati. 'Did you guys get robbed?'

Ron turned to Draco, and sighed as if in defeat. 'I'm never cleaning this apartment again.'

*

Later, after Harry and Parvati had left, Ron was comfortably spread out on the couch with an empty glass of wine in hand and Draco curled up snugly beside him.

'You know,' Draco purred in his ear. 'I still haven't thanked you for tidying up around here.'

Ron smiled. Perhaps after all these years, his mother's nagging was finally paying off.

Fin