Blaises\' Rules for Not Going Insane

So they're not mine. Such a shame. Anyway the more you all write, the more I right. Got it? Good. On to the reason you're here.

Rule Number One was Never Fall In Love With Your Best Friend.

Blaise sighed as he twisted the taps over to cold. They had been at it all morning. Again.

He’d thought that moving in with Draco, his best friend and former lover would be perfect. He’d needed a place to live, Draco had an extra room, they’d gotten along well during school. Simple. Right?

What Blaise had not realized was that Draco’s girlfriend who supposedly had her own apartment, actually spent most of her time at Draco’s place. Specifically, in Draco’s bed.

Or shower. Or whatever horizontal surface was nearest. Or failing that a wall. And during one supremely embarrassing night, the floor in the hallway between Blaises’ bedroom and the bathroom. Now he did not leave his room in the middle of the night unless he was absolutely sure that it was safe.


These incidents had led to the second rule.

Never Fall In Love With Your Best Friend/Roommate’s Girlfriend (Especially when she is a member of the Golden Trio).


The sounds of moaning from the general direction of Draco’s room had Blaise remembering back to sixth year. That had been the year that Draco had decided that he didn’t care who he slept with, as long as they were attractive and willing. There had been no shortage of Hogwart’s students to fit the bill and Draco was bringing someone new into his bed every night. Sure he had been an obnoxious, stuck up, pureblood spoiled brat of an only child but he had grown out of it. He’d stopped slicking back his hair and instead wore it in a very becoming “I look like I’ve just rolled out of bed and look very thoroughly shagged, and would you like to be the next one to make it look this way” style. He’d grown several inches and Quidditch had given him a body that made all of the girls, and quite a few of the boys, look twice.

It was about halfway through sixth year that Draco had set his sights on Blaise. Blaise was attracted to people, by and large, and gender played no part, and he had most certainly noticed Draco. Blaise wasn’t quite as quick to invite people into his bed, but he wasn’t exactly celibate either. He and Draco had gotten very, very drunk, tumbled into bed together, and remained lovers through seventh year. There were no restrictions on their relationship, but they always seemed to find their way back to each other. They had parted amicably at graduation, Draco leaving for America and Blaise for France to do a year of study abroad. Blaise had missed Draco, but certainly hadn’t been pining over him.


Then three months ago he had found himself back in England, homeless (well not homeless but moving back in with his mother was not. Was not. An option.) Then he had met up with Draco at a pub and the rest was history.

“Malfoy I swear if you do not untie me this instant I will spend the rest of my life hexing you.”


Of course there was one slight problem.


Draco was currently shacking up with Hermione Granger.

Sometime after graduation they had met up, sparks had flown, and by the time the dust had settled they were dating. Hermione had only made only one request, that Draco was faithful to her. Apparently (and from what Blaise had seen, heard, Merlin, imagined) the sex had been so good that Draco was willing to cast aside his usual ways and settle down with the Gryffindor lioness. At least for now.

Now Blaise had know that Granger was a catch since fourth year (before the Yule Ball, thank you) he had just never imagined that Draco would figure it out.

Unfortunately, he had, and now the brains behind the Golden Trio was living in his apartment, instead of with Ronald Weasley and The Boy Who Now Lived To Be Buggered Up The Arse By Ronald Weasley. (Oh yes, my friends, the boys were here, they were queer, and you had better get used to it.)


This left Blaise in the uncomfortable position of living with two people who led, well let us say, uninhibited, sexual lives. They would shag anywhere, at any time, and often with complete disregard for who might say, want to walk in the particular front door they were using at the time, or the shower or for Merlin’s sake, not waking up listening to the same thing that they had fallen asleep with.


Silencing charms were out of the question. Many of Voldemort’s supporters had defected once they saw the way the war was going, and between Dumbledor’s experience and Potter’s sheer dumb luck, the “light” side had managed to win. That was no reason to get sloppy, mind you, there were still dangers lurking, thus silencing charms and the like were not used, because what working for blocking out the sounds of people who screwed like bunny rabbits on Viagra would do the same for an intruder.


These circumstances led to rule number three. Never, Under Any Circumstances, Fantasize In Any Way About Your Roommate, His Girlfriend, Or Your Roommate And His Girlfriend.


Those were just the first three rules.

“Alright Granger, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Oh, right, you’re not wearing any. Well, you know what I mean.”

After that nothing coherent came from the room, but there was still no mistaking the sounds.


Blaise stared down at his erection with disgust.

“You know how wrong that is, right? They are happy. He is your best friend. She is your peer, your classmate.”

Surprisingly enough, his erection made no reply.

Sighing again, Blaise surrendered to the inevitable and wrapped the long fingers of one sculpted hand around himself, relaxing into his own touch. Almost.

“Oh!”

Granger was adorable when she was embarrassed, and Blaise mentally cursed Draco for the thousandth time for having clear glass around his shower.

The man in question stumbled into the bathroom close on the heels of his barely dressed girlfriend, took one look at Blaise, grabbed said girlfriend’s arm, called out a quick, “Sorry, mate.” and then scurried out, affording a brief, but nonetheless refreshing view of his delectable rear.


Well that certainly hadn’t helped his current predicament.


Finishing off his cold shower, and returning to what he had so rudely been interrupted from, Blaise dragged on a pair of boxers and then his most comfortable jeans (wonderful Muggle invention, in more ways than one) and wandered into the kitchen.

By now his flatmates had clothed themselves in a much more socially acceptable fashion (although it was anyone’s guess as to how long that would last) and were now drinking coffee and munching on breakfast.


“There’s a pot on.”

Blaise nodded his thanks to Hermione, before pouring a cup for himself and neatly plucking the front section of the newspaper out of Draco’s grip.


“I was reading that, you prat.”

“Was being the operative word, prick.”


“Children.”

Hermione’s tone had a long-suffering quality that suggested that she dealt with this type of thing on a daily (hourly, minutely) basis (which by the way she did) and both parties flashed her a quick smile of appeasement before returning to their activities.

Draco had seated himself gracefully in one of the kitchen chairs, and Hermione planted herself in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“So what should we do today?”

“Whatever you want, love, so long as it involves both of us naked.”


Blaise groaned. “Come, on can’t you give it a rest for two seconds?”

Draco grinned rakishly before replying “I don’t know, shall I bring it out and we’ll ask?”


Hermione smacked him upside the head and said “I agree with Blaise, that is quite enough for one morning. No, I was thinking we could go to the park and then you could take me out to buy some books.”

“Books? Woman we have an entire library full of books. Read one of those.”

“I have, Draco,” she replied with all seriousness, “several times each, but there is a new book I would like to read. Ginny told me about it.”


“Oh?”, suddenly Draco’s tone was much more accommodating, “I seem to remember enjoying the last book the She-Weasel recommended, do tell.”

“This one is a little different than the last, let’s just say, it requires more participants.”

With this, Blaise left the room. It was hard enough dealing with Hermione and Draco having each other, and not leaving any for him, the idea of them bringing someone else in, another person for him to be jealous, it was just too much, grabbing a shirt, some shoes and his wand, Blaise slammed out of the apartment.

“What’s gotten into him?”, Hermione wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure. But I do believe I know of someone that wants to get into you.”

The last thing that Blaise heard was Hermione’s delighted shriek.