Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little.
THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION
He knew he was never going to live this down, but the alternative - flying all the way to Wiltshire dressed in women's clothes - was out of the question; he'd freeze on her broomstick before he got halfway. Draco took a deep breath and banged on the door. A few minutes passed and he banged again, praying his friend would open the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, let me in," Draco responded to the voice from within.
"This had better be an emergency."
"Just hurry up! I'm freezing my balls off out here," Draco answered as the door swung open.
"What the-"
"Don't start, Zabini. Just get me some clothes," Draco snarled as he pushed his way past his friend.
"Did you get busted by someone's father?" Blaise asked, trying to suppress his laughter.
"Something like that," Draco ground out. "I need some clothing and a bed."
"What's wrong with your place?"
"It's in Wiltshire," Draco pointed out dryly. "I only have a small broomstick and it's fucking cold out."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, mate. We can't all have big broomsticks," Blaise teased.
"You're so funny," Draco snapped sardonically.
"Seriously, I have company, and you do have a flat in London," Blaise informed him.
"That has no clothing in it," Draco reminded him.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stock your wardrobe there?"
"What does that have to do with my current situation?" Draco growled.
"Well, you could be at your place right now, instead of disturbing my night," Blaise pointed out, sending a quick glance in the direction of the bedroom door.
"Point taken. I apologize for disturbing your evening, but I don't think I could fly all the way to Wiltshire dressed like this." Draco waved his hands at his attire. It would have helped the situation a little if Ginny had been any where near his size, but she wasn't, so he'd been stuck with a selection of women's clothing that were far too small for him.
"Yeah, that could be a bit uncomfortable," Blaise conceded. "Look just stay in the spare bedroom, and I'll sort some clothes out for you for the morning."
"Thank you."
"And tomorrow you will tell me all about it," Blaise ordered with a nefarious smirk.
Draco rolled his eyes and started in the direction of his friend's spare bedroom. At least he had a warm bed for the night and fresh clothes in the morning. He'd sort out the disaster that was this evening tomorrow, without sharing it with anyone else. The last thing he needed was Blaise analyzing why he was chasing this woman.
"Draco Malfoy, is that a new look for you?"
He froze on the spot and cursed mentally. Each time he thought the night couldn't possibly get any worse it disappointed him and got much worse. With great reluctance Draco turned around to face the woman leaning in Blaise's bedroom doorway. She was one of Europe's top magical models, and she'd been between his sheets on more than one occasion - a friend with benefits, amazing benefits.
"You know that pink cloak really brings out the color in your cheeks," the model continued.
Draco snarled at the beautiful woman. As far as his social circle was concerned, he was going to have a substantial amount of damage control to do, because she was going to delight in telling everyone about his misadventure. He wouldn't lower himself to ask her not to tell anyone, because that would probably just encourage her to seek people out now.
"Though I would have gone with a strappy heel rather than the socks," she continued.
The urge to respond rudely to her amusement was all consuming, but he bit his tongue and continued on his way to the bedroom. Unable to help himself, Draco let some of his frustration out on the door, slamming it hard. He could hear Blaise and the model laughing on the other side of the door, and he growled in anger. It wasn't that he wouldn't laugh at Blaise if he were in the same predicament, but to have a woman laughing at him just rubbed him the wrong way.
With little else to do, Draco started stripping off. Weasley's pretty cloak was discarded easily, but when it came to removing the tee shirt, which would have been baggy on its owner, Draco found it was quite difficult. After struggling to peel the fabric away from his body for several minutes he gave up and with a howl of rage he tore the shirt from the collar to the hem. The sound of hurried footsteps from the living room was followed by the door bursting open and Blaise rushing in.
"Are you all right?"
Draco gazed at his bemused friend with cool indifference. "Fine. I was just getting ready for bed."
Blaise eyes the scrap of fabric hanging from Draco's shoulders. "Shirt a bit snug?"
"It was."
"You're going to struggle to get your arms out of there."
"I'll be fine," Draco insisted. In truth, he did wonder if he would get his arms out, because his hands were starting to feel a little tingly.
"Turn around. The least I can do is give you a hand," Blaise ordered.
"I said-" Draco's words died in his mouth as Blaise turned him around roughly and began to tug the shirt off his arms.
"Say 'thank you'," Blaise prompted as he discarded the damaged shirt.
Draco sneered at the dark-haired wizard. "Piss off."
"You have had a bad night, haven't you?"
"The worst," Draco admitted, allowing his shoulders to sag.
"Don't worry about it, mate. You can tell Uncle Blaise all about it in the morning, and we'll work out what to do about it then." Blaise patted Draco's back condescendingly. "Now do you need help getting those pants off?"
"I'll manage," Draco ground out.
"Are you sure? I can't come back in for at least a few hours once I leave, so you'll be stuck until I'm through shagging what's-her-name."
"I'm sure." Draco glared at Blaise. "Go and get your shag."
"Say… You wouldn't happen to remember what her name is, would you?"
"Just close your eyes and call her Sweetheart." He couldn't help himself, even though he knew such a comment would come back to bite him on the arse if Blaise ever found out what he'd been up to tonight.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
When the door closed Draco looked down at himself. The pants he'd managed to force on were stretchy, but the fabric was at its limit and they were at least six inches too short for him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and tried to maneuver the garment off his body. How he got them on in the first place was a mystery, but then desperation could have played a large role in his determination, because the alternative was a purple elastic banded skirt. What he did realize now, though, was that his balls were aching, and he was becoming anxious to give them some space. However, no matter how hard he tugged Draco couldn't get the pants to move down even a little. After a few minutes he adjusted his grip and tried pulling apart one of the seams running down the legs, but it was to no avail. Now that he'd noticed his personal discomfort it seemed to be increasing by the second; his balls had gone from aching to throbbing in mere seconds.
Choice seemed to be something he didn't have the luxury of tonight, so without too much thought Draco opened the bedroom door. He walked across to Blaise's room and pressed his ear against the door. For a moment he tossed up whether it was worth disturbing his friend, who was obviously very busy right now, but his balls were beginning to feel like they were swelling, so he took a deep breath and hammered on the door.
"What?"
"I-err-Zabini, can you- can you come out here?"
"I told you-"
"I-" Draco let out a long sigh. This was humiliating, but his options were exhausted. "I need help."
"I'll be right back," Blaise said to the woman in the bedroom with him.
Draco stood back from the door, feeling a relieved that his friend didn't just tell him to bugger off.
"What's the problem now?" Blaise asked as he opened the door.
"I can't get them off," Draco said simply, trying not to look at his friend, who was buck-naked and sporting an erection large enough to make any normal man feel inadequate.
"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I offered to-"
"I know, but I thought they'd come off."
"Hold still," Blaise instructed as he took hold of the tight pants.
Draco was sure they would have made a curious picture with a naked Blaise kneeling in front of him while trying to pull his pants off.
"What did you do? Paint them on?"
"It was these or a skirt," Draco snapped.
"You should have gone with the skirt."
"Have you ever ridden a broom in a skirt?"
"I'm not into cross-dressing," Blaise reminded him.
"Yeah, you would have just gone naked," Draco answered sourly; half wishing he'd have not bothered with covering up, despite the cold.
"I'll just get my wand," Blaise said as he stood up.
"What for?"
"I'll sever the-"
"You're not putting your wand anywhere near me."
"I'll get a knife then."
"If you cut me-"
"You can kill me after you thank me for saving your dick," Blaise finished as he walked to the kitchen. "It's got to be going blue by now."
"Could you find a bigger knife?" Draco asked, eying the long blade dubiously.
"No point toying with something not big enough to do the job," Blaise commented off-handedly. "Now hold still or you'll lose more than the girlie pants."
"Just be-be careful," Draco uttered nervously.
Blaise rolled his eyes as he slid the knife between the fabric and his friend's skin. "I'm not going to cut you… The whining would be more than I could tolerate."
Draco wanted to respond, just to show that he wasn't afraid, but the feel of the cold blade on his skin had paralyzed him. When he could feel the pants starting to loosen he felt a sliver of relief.
"You should be able to get them off now," Blaise said as he withdrew the knife.
"Thanks," Draco muttered.
"Well? Get them off. I'm not coming out again."
"Fine," Draco grumbled. Even though he was sure they'd come off now, he didn't argue the point, because if they didn't it would utterly humiliate him to have to call upon Blaise's help again.
"You were in a hurry," Blaise noted.
"My clothes were in the sitting room," Draco responded as he gathered the ruined pants to his groin. "I couldn't get to them."
Blaise chuckled. "What did you do? Climb out the window?"
"Flew actually," Draco admitted, looking over to the broom standing in the corner near the front door. "That's her broomstick."
"I hope she's worth it," Blaise said as he returned to his own room and his model.
Draco sighed heavily as he stared at the door that had just closed. It was a pertinent question: was she worth the trouble? He could think of no other way to phrase it, because he'd had nothing but trouble since he began this foolish pursuit. He'd promised himself several times that he would end it and there was a list a mile long supporting the decision, but every time he began to examine it too closely his mind wandered back to the one night they had spent together, and he decided that she was worth it, if only they could get to shag again.
His head had begun to hurt a while ago, so he returned to the bedroom, resigned to spending the evening alone. The pants ended up in the corner of the room, a shredded mess of fabric that he regretted ever laying eyes on. Draco dropped onto the bed with a grunt. Life as he knew it - the one where he was in control - had ceased to exist all because of one redheaded woman who he'd been raised to despise. Just as he was pondering how to turn this mess around, and get the shag he knew he was now entitled to, so he could get on with life as he knew it, an odd sound filtered through the walls.
Draco frowned and sat up. It sounded like someone was in pain. Then a string of moaned expletives entered the room, punctuated by the occasional 'oh yeah' or 'oh, baby' and he realized just what he was listening to. With a snarl of disgust he threw himself back onto the mattress and drew the pillow over his head. This was some sort of bizarre torture. He'd been worked up twice this evening and now there was no chance of relief in his preferred manner, yet he was being subjected to hearing others perform the deed - life was, indeed, not fair at the moment.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The sun had hardly begun to spread light over the city when Draco tiptoed out of the spare room in Blaise's flat. Much of the night was spent in a restless space somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. She kept haunting his thoughts, but it wasn't all about the sex this time. Her smile and twinkling brown eyes had been prominent features in his dreams; even her frown had made an appearance once or twice. There was something different about this witch. Different from any other witch he'd ever come across; she provoked thought and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
He'd wrapped a sheet around himself, for protection, before entering his friend's bedroom to rummage through his closet for something appropriate to wear. After locating some charcoal gray robes and a fresh pair of boxers, he left the room and the two sleeping bodies within. Shoes would have to wait, because Blaise was a full size smaller than he. When he'd dressed, Draco collected Ginny's clothes and broomstick, then Flooed to Diagon Alley.
At this early hour he didn't expect there would be many people in the shopping district, but there were some shopkeepers getting ready for another day of business. The moment his skin touched the cobblestone road he lamented not putting his socks on; the street was freezing. For the benefit of the few people in the street, Draco walked as normally as he could to the narrow laneway beside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, hoping that his bare feet would go unnoticed.
Without pausing to take the consequences into consideration, Draco hammered on the door as hard as he could. After a minute or so he hammered again, eager to get out of the freezing cold. Perhaps she wouldn't be opposed to a little pre-breakfast activity to get his blood flowing again? He was just thinking it would be worth broaching the subject when he heard a faint noise, like a door closing, from inside the building.
"All right! I'm coming," a voice from inside yelled. "No need to knock the door down."
Terror infiltrated his body like a deadly disease. He hadn't considered that she might not be alone at this hour. The sound of heavy footsteps behind the door urged his feet into action. A quick glance towards Diagon Alley and he realized that he didn't have enough time to make it to the end and safely out of sight. He looked to the other end, which was closer, but crowded with filthy looking rubbish bins. There was no choice; he had to seek cover.
At the very last minute Draco squeezed himself between two rubbish bins and dropped to the ground. His senses were immediately assaulted with the smell of rotting garbage, making him want to heave. From his position he watched the door open and a head of short red hair appear.
"Anyone out here?"
Draco held his breath.
"Hello?"
The head in the doorway turned in his direction. It was one of the Weasley twins. Draco wished the man back into the building before he gave into the urge to vomit. His mouth was beginning to water and he could feel acid snaking its way up from his stomach. Bile was beginning to burn the back of his throat and try as he might, he couldn't manage to swallow the foul body fluid. He put his head down and tried to concentrate on breathing, which he realized was a mistake of immense proportions the moment he took his first deep breath.
Just as the door to the building slammed closed, Draco's stomach rebelled in a violent manner. He had to escape the smell from both the bins and his stomach contents or he feared he wouldn't stop. Again, he was covered with muck as he rose to his feet. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of Blaise's robes. House elves were good, but he doubted if they'd be able to do much to eradicate the smell his clothing was now emanating. Somehow he had a feeling he'd be taking his friend shopping very soon, because he knew Blaise wouldn't be pleased when he saw some of his best robes in such a state.
Unable to risk seeing Weasley right now, Draco walked back into Diagon Alley. He was careful not to cross in front of the store windows, just in case one of her brothers was in the shop. After such a near miss it would be a shame to get caught now. However, he did have another problem: she still had his belongings. This meant he had no wand, no money, and no way of getting home, except for her broomstick, but it was daylight, so flying over London was going to be frowned upon by the Ministry.
He was wandering aimlessly, hoping not to draw any attention to his state, as he tried to figure out what to do. Most people he came across gave him a wide berth, not that he could blame them; he'd give himself a wide berth too, if he could.
After several minutes he found himself standing outside the offices of the family company. Without his wand he was unable to enter, until someone else broke the wards, so all he could do was wait for the first arrival. Not wanting to be seen in his current condition, Draco crossed the street and sat down next to a wall that cast a dark shadow. He hoped it would give him enough cover until he could enter the building. Before long his backside began to lose feeling and his back started to ache as the icy cold crept up his spine.
By the time someone approached the front doors of the building Draco was visibly shaking. He didn't know whether to be relieved or not when he saw his father was the first to arrive. Still, he was desperate to feel his extremities again, so he stood up as fast as his stiff body would allow and tried to walk in a dignified manner to the door. Lucius had entered the building before Draco had managed to get to his feet, so he was fairly confident he wouldn't run into him on the way to his office.
As the door closed behind him, banishing the freezing air to the outdoors, Draco released a sigh of relief. Warmth was rushing over him, making his skin sting a little, but it didn't take away the relief he felt at being out of the elements again.
"Draco?"
Startled, Draco jumped noticeably. "Father, I didn't see you there."
"What happened to you?" Lucius asked, ignoring Draco's statement.
"Things didn't quite go to plan last night." Draco prayed his father didn't ask for details.
"I see," Lucius drawled. "This woman you're seeing… She's not someone your mother would be disappointed in, is she?"
To look at him, Draco's face held a stoical expression, but on the inside his emotions were raging. It was a loaded question, and if he got just one syllable of his answer wrong his father would be demanding to know the entire truth - a truth that wouldn't go down too well. "She's a pureblood from a good family," he answered evasively.
Curiosity crossed Lucius' features. "Women - I presume she's a woman and not a girl - from good families aren't prone to hiding under tables and doing immoral things to their dates," he pointed out shrewdly.
"You've been out of the single social scene from quite some time, Father. Things have changed."
"Not that much," Lucius declared dangerously.
"If it escaped your attention, that restaurant is not one I would usually patronize. We wanted some privacy while we sorted out just what kind of relationship we have," Draco lied, but then his mind grasped the idea and his thoughts were again turned to why he was behaving in such a manner with this woman.
"Relationship?"
Draco rolled his eyes. His patience and excuses starting to wear thin. "Whether it's just physical or if we actually know how to talk to each other."
"You don't talk to your- your lady friends before inviting them into your bed?"
A nonchalant shrug moved his shoulders. "Not usually. If you start them talking sometimes they don't shut up."
"If your mother-"
"Yes, I know." Draco sighed for effect. "If Mother ever found out what a whore I am she'd be devastated, and I'd never hear the end of it."
Lucius inclined his head to agree. "I suggest you-"
"Do what I was trying to do last night?" Draco posed, cutting his father off. "Trying to protect Mother from the knowledge."
"Yes," Lucius answered dryly.
"Right, well… If we're finished here I'm going up to my office to clean up before I Floo home to get some fresh clothes," Draco announced. He desperately needed to escape before he tripped on his own untruths and his father's keen senses were alerted.
"Don't forget some shoes," Lucius reminded him with a meaningful glance at his bare feet.
Draco answered his father's taunt with a derisive glare. There was no way he could possibly forget about his feet, because his toes were so numb that they were painful. He climbed the stairs as quickly as he could, though it wasn't anywhere near as fast as he would have normally. As he went he formulated a plan of attack for everything he needed to achieve.
First he would clean himself up as best he could, then Floo home, and hopefully not run into his mother or he'd be stuck there answering questions all day. He'd shower and change, and then return to the office by Floo, where he'd send an owl to Weasley requesting her presence somewhere to exchange property at lunchtime. All he had to do was think of some place they could meet where they wouldn't be seen by anyone who knew either of them. In the meantime, he was going to do his utmost to convince himself to give up the chase for another shag from the woman, because he was going to find himself in St. Mungo's if this nonsense continued. There was only one problem: every time he thought about her his groin stirred, letting him know that it would be far easier to cut his dick off than give her up without a fight.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her wonderful beta skills!