Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Sorry, folks. Yes, it was a disappointment for me when I found out as well, in case you were wondering.

"Don't know what you're complaining about," muttered Blaise, popping another Honeydukes chocolate into his mouth. "It's not like you can even tell."

"You're one to talk," Draco replied snappishly, "when you can consume calories like a pig and stay thin as a rake."

Blaise snorted. "Please, darling. A rake would kill for abs like mine. But that's beside the point." He moved fluidly from the bed to stand behind Draco, who was facing the full-length mirror. "It's only two pounds, and it's not even in any noticeable place."

Draco stared at himself in the mirror. Blaise thought he looked alien with doubtful self-consciousness on his face.

"This is about Potter again, isn't it?"

"I told you not to call him that anymore."

"Sod off, Draco. You don't control me."

But Blaise didn't want Draco to sod off. Not really. He just didn't want Draco to be here fussing over his perfect body, and he especially didn't want Draco to be here fussing over his perfect body because of Potter.

"He's turning you into a lovesick schoolgirl," Blaise complained, resting his head on Draco's shoulder and his hands on the shorter boy's slim waist.

"That's lovesick schoolboy to you," Draco retorted distractedly, dislodging Blaise's head from its perch on his shoulder as he turned sideways to peer at his arse.

Blaise tensed. "You… you love him?"

Draco's mercury-gray eyes flicked up to meet Blaise's in the mirror. "Perhaps. Why do you care?"

"I…" Blaise shrugged angrily, for once at a loss for what to say. "He's a Gryffindor. Draco, it's bloody Potter!"

"Don't you think I might've noticed that? Look, Blaise- I never said one word when you were fucking that Irish git every goddamn night, so I don't know why you're acting so-"

"Because, Draco," Blaise spat, "You deserve better than that!"

Draco turned slowly around in Blaise's embrace to stare at him blankly. "I'm dating Harry Potter," he said quietly. "Harry Potter. As in, the noblest Gryffindork of them all, Harry Potter. As in, Dumbledore's former right-hand man, Harry Potter. As in, "I-defeated-the-Dark-Lord," Harry Potter." He placed a sinfully smooth palm against Blaise's cheek.

"Blaise," he breathed softly, his voice radiating happiness, "how much more than that could I possibly deserve?"

Something inside Blaise broke.

He shook his head as he stared down at Draco, knowing he was most likely holding him for the last time, and it hurt. Merlin, it hurt. "You just don't get it, do you?" Blaise pulled away and stormed towards the door.

"Blaise," Draco began, "don't be like thi-"

"You can keep the chocolates. Give them to your precious Potter."

Draco called after Blaise again, but the door was already closing behind him.

Blaise brushed the burning unshed tears from his eyes as he slumped against a cold stone wall. He looked longingly at the door, murmuring under his breath before he pushed away and walked out of sight.

"You deserve me, Draco," he'd whispered softly. "You deserve me."

Author's Note: Poor Blaisey, eh?