I'm not Allowed to Love You

The Slap in the Face

Draco couldn't focus throughout the Sorting. He was distracted through all of dinner. And by the speech Dumbledore gave, he was absentmindedly floating a fork in front of him, every once in a while glancing up at Potter. He had felt a huge surge of guilt when Potter had walked in late, going to his table as quickly as possible. His face was covered in blood. He poked Crabbe, and asked if Potter's nose looked different. Crabbe didn't hear him, so he mimicked a nose breaking and asked if it had looked different. Crabbe grunted, but as Draco looked at where Potter had sat down, he saw Weasley glaring at him. Had Potter already told them the story?

Draco wanted to say sorry to Potter, he never meant to mess up his perfect nose like that. But he knew he couldn't. His decision had been made for him on the train.

And speaking of the train... what had happened on the train? With Blaise? And then Potter? This wasn't normal, Draco kept telling himself. No one thought of kissing their enemies. Simply no one. But he had. And he needed to keep telling himself off for enjoying it.

He walked to the Slytherin common room, and sat staring at the fire as it slowly died. He sat there until he realized he was so tired that he could hardly open his eyes anymore. He trudged to the boys staircase when something grabbed him and pulled him into the small corner right next to the stairs and pinned him against the wall. Blaise grinned at him, his face very close to Draco's. He was very tall. Tall and lanky, with thin but long arms that walled off both sides of Draco so he had no escape. Draco gasped.

"So, what is it you said you wanted to talk about?" Blaise asked, as if they were simply having a normal conversation, and not as if one was pinning the other and standing unnecessarily close.

"I-I didn't!" Draco muttered, unnerved by how close Blaise was.

"Yeah, but I know you needed to talk about something!"

"I- err, I suppose so. But I don't know how I would phrase it," Draco thought hard of a way to express his worst fears, but none came to mind that didn't sound incredibly stupid.

"Okay... how about you start by explaining what you did on the train. When we were putting our robes on," Blaise suggested with a grin, one of his thin eyebrows shooting upward. Draco felt himself flush, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Er, well, I suppose I turned around and you were still changing," Draco made up quickly.

"You can admit you checked me out, Draco," Blaise said with a smirk, "I've been waiting for this to happen for years."

"I- check you- I- no!" Draco spluttered indignantly.

"Oh, of course not. I'll just give you a minute to swallow your pride, shall I?" Blaise began to walk away, but Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"What did you say about waiting for this for years?" Draco whispered, ashamedly.

"I marked you down as gay the second I saw you. That's why I came over to you."

"But I came over to you," Draco pointed out.

Blaise smiled mischievously, "And I knew you would."

Draco was stunned. He couldn't be... gay, could he? No, a Malfoy such as himself could not be gay. Simply could not.

"I can't be homosexual, Blaise. I'm a Malfoy."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Whatever flies your broomstick."

"Blaise, listen to me. I can't be! I can't! Do you know how-how terribly that is looked upon in my family?" Draco asked, looking desperate.

Blaise raised him eyebrows, "Fuck your family."

"No! I don't do that sort of thing. Maybe other pure bloods mate with their cousins but-"

"Draco! I mean FUCK your family! Like screw them, leave them, ignore them!"

"Oh," Draco said, looking a bit defeated, "I can't do that. Father would kill me.

"You aren't actually scared of your father are you?" Blaise said teasingly.

"If you had an abusive one, you would be to," Draco hissed, mad and ashamed. Blaises face softed into guilt instantly and he wrapped his long arms around Draco.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not something I like to bring up," Draco whispered into Blaises ear. They broke apart awkwardly.

"Well, erm," Blaise looked embarrassed and as if he desperately wanted to change the subject, but didn't know if Draco would be hurt by such.

"So then you are homosexual, I am assuming?"

"Yes, of course. I've known for a while now. My mother knows, and she's fine with it, she told me boys do it better anyway," Blaise clung to the new subject like it was a healing potion.

"I still find it hard to believe that I myself am homosexual, however," Draco noted persistently. Blaise gave the biggest eye roll in history

"Have you heard yourself? Seen yourself? You even walk gay!"

"Walk gay?"

"All booty, swinging hips, you know!" Blaise was now so exasperated that he was using more and more elaborate hand motions, "Have you heard yourself talk about Potter? 'Precious Potter, saintly Potter, I-really-want-to-date Potter'! You have been obsessed with that boy for years! Years! You stare at the boy, stalk that boy, you even bought your way into the Quidditch team just for a closer look at him playing! How do you not see that!?"

Draco was silent, processing.

"I can't like Potter, though. We hate each other. That's the only reason I do that sort of stuff."

Blaise seemed like he was about to scream in exasperation. But suddenly, he calmed, grabbed Draco's head, tilted it up, and kissed him. They kissed long and hard. Draco felt an explosion in his stomach and he was paralyzed. But once he got over the shock, he involuntarily closed his eyes. Blaise broke the kiss after a few seconds, grinning so broadly it should have been illegal.

"What did you do that for!" Draco asked, not sure whether he was asking about the kiss, or why he had stopped it short.

"Draco, you are so gay," is all he said, and he left it at that.