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Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock	By : Icarus Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Draco smirked at Ron when he saw the half-empty beer. "You mix, you pay."

Then Draco snagged the other beer. Heh. Ron hid a smile.

Ron was already paying for it. In a very pleasant way. A fog had descended over the evening; he'd had sex, the best meal since he could remember and, once he could find the kitchen again, he might even do the dishes out of sheer gratitude. There was no limit to his goodwill at the moment. He was still naked, slumped into the sofa, his feet stretched out in front of him. One of the benefits of not living with nine people any more was the chance to lie about in the nude, and Ron took full advantage.

The plates were currently on the floor, along with quite a few items and plastic wrappings that spilled off the cluttered table. They'd eaten at the sofa while the table was somewhat, er, occupied.

Ron scanned the sparkling array on the table wondering what other treasures Draco had here. There seemed to be a vast variety.

"So, what'choo got anyway?" Ron asked.

Draco picked up a small box and carried it with his beer to the loo, snickering a little. "Never you mind."

Ron knew that laugh. Draco was up to something. Add to that the way he hid that box with his chest, and not-to-mention - not-to-mention! Ron told himself again - Draco's locking himself in the bathroom, and Ron was almost certain of it. Beer really brought out his quick thinking.

Ron recalled the strawberries and decided this was a really good time to hide them, but it seemed an awful lot of trouble. He'd have to get off the sofa for starters. And it was appalling really, to be so selfish. Selfish, selfish, shellfish. Ron hadn't had seafood in a while either. Maybe on Draco's next drug deal.... What was Draco smoking in that bathroom...? Shellfish of him, to act so fishy, and not share, share, share. Weren't they mates now? Pals. Sort of. Aside from the dishes. Maybe if Ron did the dishes, Draco would share the shellfish, or whatever else it was he had.

Ron struggled with the moral dilemma of getting mad at Draco for not sharing the seafood, and acting on his guilt about the dishes. It was for Draco's own good, dammit. He should appreciate what Ron was doing for him!

Draco emerged shyly from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers.

"You should appreciate the dishes, and stop eating seafood!" Ron declared in drunken indignation.

Draco gave Ron a funny look.

Ron decided that somehow came out wrong.

Draco's elegantly long, dark lashes fluttered as he blinked at Ron, and his delicately painted rosebud-pink lips hung open a little. Ron would say that Draco's cheeks tinged a little pink again but... it slowly sank in.

"Draco?" Ron asked. "You wearing make-up?"

Draco tittered and put his finger to his pink lips, "Shhhhhh...!"

Ron scanned him from head to toe. "Your legs are shaved."

Draco nodded emphatically, snickering.

"Your lipstick's crooked."

Draco's mouth opened and shut. He frowned. "Fine. I'd like to see you try. You can't do any better."

Ron's hand vaguely brushed at the air. " 'Course I can."

"Wha -? You into something I don't know about? Kinky-Weasley?"

"How many sisters you got, Draco? I can dress dolls.... play tea party... make mud pies... all that stuff. It's called baby-sitting. And I didn't mash the mud-pies like Fred and George did. It was mean to tell Ginny her cake had fallen." Ron nodded, gesturing with his beer bottle. This important detail appeared to fly over Draco's head. "Only Percy was a better baby-sitter than me - just because he let her cheat and didn't shove her. But she deserved it!"

"Play any other games with your sister?" Draco grinned devilishly as he approached. "Do any naughty little things? Ever look up her dress? Play a little Medi-Wizard?"

"You're sick, Malfoy."

"Those big families... what's a pregnant sister or two... never notice at the breakfast table I'm sure...."

Ron exploded. "Shut up, Malfoy!"

"Relax, Weasley." Draco dropped onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. Painted eyes looked up at Ron. His grey eyes looked enormous. "What I wouldn't have given for a little brother or sister to kick around when I was a kid. Big house. Nothing to do. Don't touch this, don't touch that. This tree bites, that sword's cursed... I was bored. The house-elves were too quick for me."

"Tell you what: I'll give you Fred - and throw in George, free of charge. Enjoy."

"I didn't say I wanted older brothers," Draco sighed, his pink lips pouting. He rolled over on the sofa and looked at Ron upside-down.

"I did have a nanny with really big tits though. That was a plus."

Ron snorted.

"Used to make Drusilla chase after me, just to watch 'em bounce." Draco hung his head over the edge of the sofa, glancing up at Ron.

"Drusilla?"

"My nanny."

"Oh." Ron squinted at him. "How old were you?"

"I dunno, seven? Eight?"

"Geeze, Malfoy..."

"I was precocious." Draco beamed at him, tongue between his teeth.

"Yeah. I'll say."

The crazy bloke must have been an unholy terror.

"Now if I had a sister...and she looked anything at all like Ginny..."

"Malfoy."

Draco looked up.

"Don't finish that thought if you want to live."

Draco smiled maliciously, and Ron realised Draco was having him on, as usual. Ron shoved him onto the floor - hard. Draco deserved it. Draco landed on all fours like a cat, laughing.

"Oh, you're so easy..." he snickered, rolling onto his side on the carpet. "You'd never've survived the Slytherin common room." He had pale violet eye shadow on, over those huge grey eyes. The lipstick was a little smeared now. Had he never heard of lip-liner?

Ron growled. He aimed a kick that Draco didn't even bother to avoid, knew it for the light tap it was. Ron would never hurt Draco, ever, as Draco had damned good reason to know. But that fell into areas they didn't discuss.

Draco took a sip of Ron's beer, leaving some pink lipstick on the rim. He staggered up and wandered over to the clothing rack and started sifting through it, examining the colourful frocks with proprietary interest.

"So..." Ron ventured at last. His eyebrows went into his hairline. "Is that all for you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. These are special orders: my most popular item." Draco pulled out something dark purple and held it to his chest. "Death Eaters don't provide for basic human needs."

"What needs? Where are people gonna wear frocks at the Ministry?"

"Frocks? You're blind, Weasley. This is lingerie." Draco nuzzled something filmy and white. "Hmmm. Silk means sex... that's why they sound the same. But I got this one for you."

Ron snorted and took a swig of his beer. "Like hell."

"It's fun. Want to see one on?"

"I am so using this against you when we get out of here, Malfoy."

Draco laughed. "Hah. We're not getting out of here. Which one do you want?" He held up something bright pink that was just - glaring. Ron instinctively knew Draco would kill him if he picked that. The white lace thing was okay, but...

"That one," Ron said, taking another sip. He liked blue. It was his favourite colour. "No, the long dark one on the left. That, yeah."

"Ah. This is a classic," Draco cooed. "Midnight, too. Very tasteful. Seems there's hope for you yet."

Draco disappeared behind the clothes rack, jangling a few of the hangers. Draco's boxers spun over the rack and landed in the middle of the room. Ron stared at them with a growing helpless feeling that this was going to be one very weird night.

Draco emerged from behind the rack and posed.

The sweeping midnight blue silk gown was slit to the waist. The contrast with his pale blond hair and light skin was stark. Draco looked like sapphires and cool diamonds. Ron blinked and forgot about his beer. The slit revealed a good bit of Draco's smooth, slim leg. Suddenly the eye-makeup looked all right, with that on at least. More than all right.

For a moment he was a convincing girl; and then he moved, and he was definitely Draco. He swept a few tendrils of his hair onto his face.

Draco didn't look feminine really; he was too aggressive and intense. The wiry landscape of Draco's arms drew Ron's eyes, widened them, and Draco's slightly masculine stance contrasted oddly and ferociously with his long skirt. His face was frankly beautiful. Draco had always been trouble, but hidden under a prim, very Malfoy crust. Now he looked every bit the vixen. This person would gleefully tease and flirt just to get a reaction, this person had little self-control and didn't look like he wanted it either. Ron found himself nodding inwardly, as a lot about Draco's personality suddenly fell into place.

"So. What do you think?" Draco's light boyish voice made Ron blink. It didn't fit the visuals.

"Flat-chested," Ron said bluntly. "But - wow. Great legs." He meant more than the legs though, not that he was going to admit it.

"Fuck yeah," Draco agreed. His hands smoothed down his thighs. "Nice arse, too."

"Nah. Too skinny," Ron grunted.

"Ha. I look like a model."

"Your face does. Here," Ron motioned him over. "Let me fix your lipstick. You have to stay inside the lines."

Draco got up to fetch the make-up box from the washroom, and stood for a moment in front of the mirror there, smoothing his dress.

"I'm not too skinny. I'm really hot," he said.

"You know... my mother had a necklace that would be exquisite with this." Draco's voice sort of echoed off the tile. "Diamonds like a waterfall, right down the chest." Draco trotted into the living room, makeup box in hand; the skirt tangled a little between his legs as he walked, and he yanked at it awkwardly. "Damned cold on the tits when you first put it on."

"You've done this before."

"A Malfoy doesn't do anything halfway."

Draco curled up in a puddle of blue silk and plunked the rattling box onto the couch. He rummaged roughly through it for the lipstick.

He said wistfully, "I used to lie around naked in my mother's jewellry. There was this square cut bracelet, a gold and garnet thing, which wrapped perfectly three times around my dick. So long as I was hard, it would stay on."

"How do you wank with a bracelet around your prick?"

"You can't."

"Oh."

"That's the best part."

Ron was silent, trying to process that mental image. "I figured it out."

"What?"

"My life turned weird the moment the Malfoys came into it. Malfoy equals crazy. So. If I stay away from all Malfoys, for the rest of my life, I'll be sane."

"Yes, but you won't have nearly as much fun. Here's the lipstick. I think that's the same pink, but I swear there must be a million shades in here...."

Ron whimpered and gave up. He remembered his beer, finished off the rest and heaved a sigh. Ron asked finally, peering into the box: "Got any lip liner?"

"What's that?"

"Ummm. Here. This." Ron found it. He squinted at the lipstick and the pencil, holding them up to the light; the colours were close enough for Ministry work. He'd done Ginny's make-up a million times when she was little, and together they'd done most of her dolls, too. He'd spent more time with Ginny than he had with Fred and George - for damned good reason. He wasn't particularly good at makeup, but he could keep more or less within the lines. When he wasn't drunk of course.

"You need to wipe that off." Ron nodded at Draco's cut met mess.

Draco complied.

"Not on your arm," Ron groaned in disgust.

Draco shrugged and made a kissy-face at Ron; this was so much like little Ginny it was ridiculous. Ron tried not to laugh. "Not like that! Don't squinch your lips up. That makes it tough."

Fortunately, Draco had a really clear lip-line, not like Ginny, whose lips sort of blurred in the corners. He was more like one of Ginny's dolls actually, all white skin and curvy pink lips.

Ron finished and snapped the cap back on the lipstick. "There."

Draco peered in a tiny make-up mirror, turning his face left then right, critically. "It's a little wavy there."

"Fuck you." Ron stretched and picked up his beer. Shit. It was empty. Maybe Draco hadn't finished his yet. "Try me when I'm not drunk next time."

"I'll take you up on that." Draco preened in the mirror again. "All right, I admit, that's better than I did. Lipstick is hard." He stood, relatively gracefully this time. The silk slid down his thighs with a whisper. Then he extended his hand.

"Care to dance?"

Ron jaw dropped in amazement. Dance? Like that?

Looking was one thing. No one could blame him for that, hell, who wouldn't stare? Playing 'dolls' was another. But dancing with Draco, dressed up like that? It was sort of... well, it was weird. Of course, sleeping with Draco, or sitting there naked-no-worries in front of him was probably pretty strange too, but at least Ron was used to it.

Ron swallowed. "There's no music."

Draco cast an annoyed look over his shoulder, rolling those sultry eyes; Ron got that uncomfortable feeling he always had when he'd said something stupid on a date. Ron quickly shut up, as he usually made it worse if he kept talking. But he wasn't on a date! He was naked, in his living room. Very naked. It felt strange, like one of those dreams where you walk around with no clothes on and everyone acts normal.

Draco was acting like everything was normal. The corners of the room sort of blurred as Ron stood. Either that last swig of beer had hit him harder than expected, or else Ron was drunker than he thought. Funny. Everything had seemed pretty clear up till now.

Ron really wanted to put on some boxers or something, since for one thing he was getting hard, and it was bloody obvious! But he wasn't sure how he could do that politely, or what politeness had to do with Draco all of the sudden. Draco ignored Ron's 'reaction' as he put on some soft music, then gently draped an arm around Ron's shoulders. The cool silk slid against Ron's... oh God.

"This you know how to do," Draco murmured in Ron's ear, as they swayed together in a slow dance. The music was mellow, and smoky, like smooth wine.

All Ron could do was nod as his heart hammered in his chest.

"Nervous?" Draco purred. His grin was pure evil; he knew exactly the response he was getting. Ron shook his head, lying. Draco didn't have anything on under that silk. Which normally didn't give Ron chills, but - Ron quickly changed the subject.

"The music. That's Witches Brew..." The singer crooned, languid and soft. There was a flash of Draco's white skin as they turned. Ron laughed to himself: Draco was leading.

"Sounds like them, but no. More Muggles. Jazz. Sade," Draco said.

"Do they all rip off Muggles?" Ron complained, disgusted with his favourite groups.

Draco snorted with laughter into his ear; it definitely sounded like Draco. "Ha! I knew it! I knew you believed me!"

"Of course I did," Ron said. "You won't lie to defend Muggles."

Draco looked up at Ron, quirking his head curiously with that sideways smile. Then he kissed Ron, lightly, on the lips. "Sometimes I forget..." he began, but Ron caught those lips and deepened the kiss, pressing into Draco; he let his hands slide down Draco's silky back, cupping his arse. Draco's cheeks were too small, too hard to be what he looked like, but Ron panted. The music moaned in the background. Draco broke away with a slight smile.

"Well," he laughed. "What was I saying? Oh yeah - sometimes you're so simple, I forget you're smart."

Ron said, leaning back with Draco in his arms, "Lucius doesn't forget."

"Lucius underestimates you. He's made a big mistake," Draco said narrowing his eyes at Ron. "I live with you, and I still forget. I don't know what it is about you. You look so bloody innocent. And the worst thing is, you are."

"His big mistake is trusting Percy," Ron answered, sweeping his hand through Draco's hair. He liked it better off his face. And this Muggle singer was actually better than Witches Brew. "Just because Percy is trustworthy, doesn't mean you can trust him. Percy has his own rules."

"Well, I don't trust him," Draco scowled. His eyes hardened, and it looked much more intense with the eye makeup. "He's too damned close to Lucius."

They'd been over this a thousand times. Ron sighed. "Percy isn't close to anyone. Just because he admires Lucius -"

"Admires? Admires? He adores him," Draco complained. Their dance had slowed to nearly a standstill.

"- just because he admires Lucius doesn't mean a thing," Ron continued. This was going in its usual circle. Draco just didn't understand his brother, and Ron couldn't explain. "Percy is just... Percy. I've learned a lot about him since, well, since we've been here. Look. I know you think I'm blind. Just remember this: the Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor. It didn't even take its time about it. Just - plunk - drop it on his head. Bing - he's in Gryffindor, no questions. He thought it was like that for everyone."

Draco didn't look convinced.

"Fred and George on the other hand..." Ron continued, changing the subject.

"- were surely prime candidates for Hufflepuff," Draco quipped.

Ron chuckled into his hair, and returned to the swaying dance. "No doubt. They were put in the wrong house, that's for sure."

"Would've been fun to have them in Slytherin."

"God." Ron froze as he tried to imagine it. He shuddered. "They would have burned down Hogwarts..."

Draco flashed a grin at Ron. His hand teased the cleft between Ron's bare cheeks. "You do realise you've lipstick on now?" Ron wiped his mouth, blushing at Draco's mischievous look. "It's certainly not your colour."

"What are talking about? A colour's a colour." He'd used pink on Ginny all the time. 'Course, she'd only had the one.

"You're a redhead! You can't wear mauve. Here," Draco kissed Ron again, and leaned over for the tiny mirror, holding it up, "see?"

Ron tipped the mirror till it showed his lips. "Yep. That does look like shit." Ron made a face in the mirror before scrubbing the lipstick off again, and snorted, "Malfoy, just how much do you know about this stuff?"

"Oh, lots and lots and lots and lots..." Draco began.

Ron finished for him: "...and lots and lots... annnnd how much have you had to drink? Before I came home I mean."

"Lots and lots... But these pills seem to be wearing off," he said irritably. "You know, I almost felt I .understood the Death Eaters for a minute? Their fear and apathy. And I felt so... bouncy." Draco hopped up and down a couple times in Ron's arms. "You still have lipstick on, by the way. You definitely need something more orange...."

Ron scrubbed at his mouth again. "Orange? Disgusting -"

"No, let me show you."

"I'm not putting on make-up, Malfoy."

"That's crap. You already have."

"Kissing you doesn't count!" Some part in the back of Ron's mind was aware of just how weird that statement was, and raised a distant bug-eyed objection.

"You haven't a clue what colours look good on you. You always wear that horrible blue shirt."

"I like blue."

"It clashes with the hair -"

"Blue is my favourite colour!"

"- you're going to blind me one of these days. It's completely the wrong shade of blue," Draco explained with a disgusted expression. "Actually, the blue I'm wearing now would work on you. Here." He started to pull the silk gown over his head.

"No." Ron stopped him. "Um... keep that on."

Draco raised his eyebrows. He dropped his skirt, with an amused look at Ron. Ron's cheeks heated, but he didn't and couldn't take it back. His mind groped vainly for an excuse, till he realised he'd been silent too long to back out of it anyway.

"I'll find something else then," Draco said, far too smoothly. Ron opened his mouth to object. "- to show you colours."

Draco made for the clothes rack and started rattling through the hangers.

"No... No... No - ah! Here. See? This is a cold blue. Looks like death on you. This is a warm blue. Looks decent. Note it has a little green? A little richer, a little softer? See? Good blue. Bad blue. Have it now?"

"That's not blue. It's green."

"Green? You're colour-blind. Explains a lot." Draco rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. He held out the silk. "This. Is. Teal."

"What's 'teal'?"

"Colour-blind and ignorant." Draco held the silk up to Ron's chest and scanned him head to toe. It was really short, just skimming Ron's thighs. "Yeah. That's it. You've got a perky little face, and with the long legs, short and kicky, well it works."

Ron glanced down. "You trying to put me in a frock? And those are long, hairy legs, in case you didn't notice." He winced.

"It's lingerie. And you have to visualise without the hair."

Ron gave Draco a doubtful look.

Draco pulled the silk nightie away. "Oh, for crying out loud, we're just testing colours. It looks sweet, that's all. I don't know what you're whingeing on about. You can't blame me for looking, can you? You have nice legs."

Ron rolled his eyes and abandoned ship on this conversation, though the back of his mind filed away the 'nice legs' comment to check later. Draco didn't give idle compliments. Idle insults, sure, by the gallon. Ron peered curiously over the table instead. "So, ah, what else have you got here?"

"Lots of stuff." Draco glanced over his shoulder as he straightened the hangers. The teal nightie he left draped on the couch.

"What's in the bottles?"

"Guess, genius."

Ron ignored the jibe and lifted a stopper off one. Whew! It smelled strong. Good. That one was a keeper.

"Figures you'd go straight for the alcohol. Haven't you had enough yet?"

"Nope. What's in the little bottles?" He replaced the stopper, and picked up a bottle no bigger than his hand. The contents sloshed deliciously. He pulled off the cap and sniffed.

"Don't drink that. That's perfume!"

"Phew!" Ron gagged and held it away.

"Idiot."

"I didn't drink it - Ugh! Promise me you won't put that on, else you're sleeping on the sofa tonight."

Draco shook his head. "No. They didn't have anything good. Mother's were all custom."

That was more than Ron ever wanted to know.

"What about these pills?"

Draco came up behind him and leaned over Ron's shoulder, hands stroking Ron's chest. "Want to try something?" He leered suggestively.

They looked like miniature gobstones to Ron. Tiny spitting pills was not an appealing image. He thumbed through the little lines. "I dunno..."

"Hey! Careful, don't mix them up or I won't be able to tell them apart."

"Got anything to eat here?"

"No." Draco let go, and reached around Ron for one of the little bags. "But I bought something with you in mind. Here." He tossed Ron a clear plastic bag.

Ron caught the bag, and peered at what looked to be some kind of herb. "What's this?" It seemed natural, and made Ron feel a bit better than the pills. If it came out of the ground, it couldn't be too bad, to Ron's way of thinking at least. Not that Professor Sprout couldn't prove him wrong any day of the week.

"Cannabis. Everyone takes the drug that's worst for them. You're lazier than shit, so it's perfect for you. It'll exacerbate your worst qualities like any good high. You'll love it."

Ron opened it and sniffed experimentally. It smelled like catnip. "What's perfect for Percy?" he wondered.

"Amphetamines. Speed."

"Yikes!" Ron said. "Can tell just by the name I never want to see that."

"Frightening, huh?"

Ron's eyes bugged out just picturing it. He examined the bag in his hands. "So. What do you do with this stuff? Looks like you put it in soup."

"No!" Draco said. "You smoke it."

"How'm I supposed to do that without a wand?" Ron asked.

They stared the bag quizzically, as though it could provide answers of its own accord.

Ron shook his head. "I see you thought this through carefully, didn't you? The criminal mastermind strikes out again."

Draco ignored that. "I hear you can put it in biscuits."

"Looks like it would go better in tomato sauce." Ron held it up to the light and peered at it doubtfully.

"Try the Ecstasy then. It's woooonderful."

"Is that what's worst for you?"

"It's all worst for me. I simply liked the name: ecstasy, that's what I want." Draco put away the cannabis and leaned on the table tapping his fingers. "I just want you to try everything, before we're both dead and gone."

Ron blinked at him, and then his eyes returned to the table. A little hope might be nice, Draco. Not that he wasn't right, most likely.

"Well. On that cheery note... what's this goopy pink stuff?" He snapped up an oblong bottle of thick ooze that looked like some kind of love potion. It clung to the bottle as he tipped it back and forth.

Draco brightened. "Bubblebath."

"Bubblebath? Really?" said Ron. "Without a spell?'

"Yeah. Strawberry in fact."

"Now, I'd be into that."
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Sex, Drugs and Death Eater Rock