Lies By Omission

Chapter 3: A Sexy Neville?

Backkkk! So if you haven't seen the summary update (or gathered this by chapter three), there are many references to sex. There will not be any on screen sex, I promise, but the content warning is here anyway.

Blaise

Blaise looked up at the light ding that signalled someone had come through the wards. It was probably Neville, or Draco. Pansy didn't believe in going about on Sundays; she liked to rest up, or get some expensive beauty treatment.

There was a long couple minutes. Blaise thought about Neville coming through that door, of Neville's sweet, wondering smile in the Oxford Botanic Gardens. The gardens, of course, had been a wonder. Bright and full, healthy as the ones Neville grew himself. Blaise could feel how much of a happy place gardens were for Neville– after all, they restored his faith in nature. He remembered the last time they'd watched a nature documentary, and Neville had teared up on the mention of destroying wildlife and the growing problem of global warming.

Neville had been such a sweetheart yesterday. And today... well. Two weeks, no take backs. He'd almost asked Neville out. Several times. And the idea of it was terrifying. So terrifying that he didn't. He just did a whole lot of staring.

Draco couldn't expect him to get his act together that quickly, anyway. Blaise had been pining for Merlin knew how long now– years of some number he didn't want to count or he'd feel pathetic... two. Three? Four? Possibly five. And now he had two weeks? Whatever.

It was Draco's fault for having such high expectations.

"So, ask him out yet?"

"I knew it was you." He hadn't, but he knew now. He figured he'd be nervous about Neville even if he knew it was Draco anyway, because Neville invaded every moment of his mind, so it didn't really make a difference.

"Sure you did." Draco's eyes were shining. "So, my date went well."

Blaise wasn't very interested in Potter's dick right now. Yesterday, he went to the Oxford Botanic Garden with Neville Longbottom, and got to see the closest thing to Neville Longbottom in love– though of course it had been with the flowers.

However, he wanted to talk about that even less, so: "Do tell."

Draco sighed dreamily, and Blaise realized, as he sat up and actually looked at Draco instead of staring at the arching high ceiling of the Zabini mansion, that Draco was wearing Muggle clothing. Trousers, button-down, suit jacket, as if Harry Potter would go to a lunch date with anything more formal than a Tee-Shirt, or whatever he called them. "We went to lunch." Draco grinned and sat elegantly down on one of Blaise's sofa's. "I hate your couches. Why are they so stiff?"

"Yours are antique, what do you mean mine are stiff?"

Draco waved a hand at him airily. "Shut up, I'm telling you about my date." Blaise shut up obediently, though he pulled a face and made a show of flopping back down on his back and returning his gaze to the ceiling. "He practically fought me over the bill," he said fondly.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "You're turned on by his aggression towards you? Just go back to being rivals, then."

He heard Draco's foot drop down onto the floor as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. Draco liked to lounge about like he didn't care, but he cared so much his disinterested air only lasted a minute or two, unless he was really trying. Which he really only did around Potter, to the amusement of everyone around him. "No, this is so much better. Blaise. Blaise. He kissed me. He kissed me. Me!"