Vodka and Roses

During the long days of summer, when the yellow sun seemed adamant on only setting after the clock struck nine thirty, Draco walked the vast halls of the empty Malfoy manor restlessly. On this particular day, at this particular time the manor seemed more oven than abode.

Draco awoke to the interesting scent of vodka and roses. His stormy eyes adjusting to the blinding light filtering through his chiffon curtains and his beautiful lips grimaced. Withdrawing himself from black silk sheets and his thin shirt, fifteen-year-old Draco stood by the foot of his bed in last-night's wrinkled pants, surveying himself in a nearby mirror. Pansy's vibrant lipstick was still smeared over his forehead, cheeks, jawbone, neck, collarbones, chest, stomach, pelvis...

Walking lazily into the adjoining bathroom suite, Draco discarded the tight pants and stepped into a freezing curtain of water. It was hard for him to contain a moan of pleasure, but somehow he managed. It was a good forty minutes before he left the bathroom.

Throwing his pants onto his bed, Draco left his room, not bothering to dress. Having an empty house allowed him the freedom of air-drying his slender body.

Draco stepped out onto the marble porch, hot tiles warming cold feet. Water curled greedily down Draco's form, his sickly pale skin practically glowing in the new day's light. Muscles were tight under flawless skin as Draco stretched marvelously, his naked flesh absorbing the warmth of morning. He stood there for a few moments, feeling the summer breeze on his skin and watching grass sway back and forth when he heard hollow footsteps crossing the grand hall.

Turning on his heel, Draco walked into the cool shade of the manor, and silently across the tile floor of the kitchen. With a jolt of panic, Draco realized his wand was in his room. The terror subsided quickly as Draco saw Blaise's slender form materialize from the sunlight-filled Grand Hall. If Blaise was at all shocked to see Draco standing naked in the kitchen, he certainly hid it well.

"Draco."

"Blaise."

"Where is Lucius, cousin?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Blaise sighed. Draco was pleased to see his hand tighten in frustration. The grandfather clock boomed in the silence marking the eleventh hour of the morning.

"Cousin?"

"Yes, Blaise?"

"May I ask why you're naked?"

"No, Blaise."

"As you wish."

They stood staring at each other; Draco eyeing Blaise's black tee shirt scathingly as Blaise looked critically at Draco's body. After a moment of silence, Blaise cocked his eyebrow.

"Are you going to put any clothes on, Draco?"

"No, cousin."

Again silence. Draco taped his barefoot on the white tile; it made a echoing slapping noise in the enormous kitchen.

"It's very hot in here."

"Yes, Blaise, it is."

"Do you mind?" Blaise asked, pointing at his tee shirt with a look that suggested that even if Draco had threatened suicide, Blaise still would have removed it. Perhaps even more so.

"Not at all, cousin."

Blaise peeled off the shirt with the elegance that only one related to the Malfoys could have mustered. Blaise's muscles flexed under lightly tanned skin as he threw the shirt over his shoulder. Blaise cocked his eyebrow once again, this time in challenge. Draco stepped into a beam of light and his beautiful body was consumed by the sun. There was an indescribable silence in the manor; embracing and enthralling the two teenagers. Soon, the silence seemed to take on a new air, an aura of anticipation. They still stood, saying nothing though, each looking as determined as the next not to break the tension. Finally it was Blaise who talked, his voice seemed to break under the tension of the atmosphere.

"You're taller than I thought you were."

"And you're more beautiful than I thought you were, Blaise."

There was a moment of silence before Blaise stepped into the golden light and kissed Draco's flushed lips.

Draco ended the kiss abruptly, stepping away from Blaise, eyes raging and burning with shock. Blaise look startled, but gutturally satisfied. Draco was suddenly aware of his nakedness, of his shame.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Draco asked, his voice a deep growl, as he crossed his arms protectively. "We're cousins, you filth."

"It's just a game for you Draco," Blaise said stronger than he felt, "you never think about how I feel, this constant flirting. You drive me insane, Draco. I spend hours awake, thinking about you. I bring myself to silent screams just thinking of your blonde head buried in my chest. You're infectious, you little snake. And every time we meet, you flirt with me shamelessly and violently. I'm sick of it." Blaise seemed relaxed, now that he had spoken.

"What, do you expect an apology?" Draco said finally, growling voice betraying the gentleness in his eyes.

"Draco, we're not even related by blood."

Draco couldn't respond. The whole situation was absurd; he couldn't be naked, having a conversation with Blaise about the pros and cons of incest. No way. Perhaps this was still a strange dream.

But there Blaise was, as solid as stone; fierce eyes mixing hatred and passion. Draco took a few steps towards Blaise, testing the waters, so to speak.

"What would my father think?" Draco asked, the weight of the question and of Blaise's eyes and the whole situation far too heavy for Draco's shoulders.

"He wouldn't have to know," Blaise said earnestly, as if the constricting leash he had been on had been suddenly slackened.

"How very shrewd of you, my cousin," Draco paused, and finally took a good look at Blaise. You never really saw a person until you looked hard and deep. Sure, you knew what their face looked like - but until you really looked at them, saw the lines at the corners of their eyes, counted the freckles on the bridge of their nose, studied those icy irises, touched those firm lips, you never really knew how they looked. Draco took a step forward, the gap between Blaise and himself only inches.

"Come here, my darling cousin," Draco said, almost imperceptibly quiet, and met Blaise's lips with his own.

Perhaps it was another type of control over his family, domination over his father's will. Draco knew Lucius would find out eventually, but at least for the time being Draco was once again his own person. Perhaps it was lust, but Draco had had so many girls and boys before Blaise, this was nothing new. Perhaps it was love, but Draco didn't like thinking about love, so he kissed Blaise harder.