“Of course, if you’re going to be running around out here, I’m not letting you go unarmed, that’s going to be where Mina comes in. No better shot in the city. In fact, she forced my brother and I into retirement very, very resolutely. Ironic, when you consider she’s working for us now. We’re not going to be able to spring Mercy or get you back home without her help. Just keep your hands out of your pockets, she’s jumpy.”
“Wait- am I going to get SHOT while I’m here?”
“Everyone’s gotta get shot once in a while, I’d posit that getting shot here is probably better for you, all it cost me was my eye, and Mercy’s ability to do simple math. Things you can live without, really. Besides, we arm you, get shithead out of the Hatter, and then she’ll have absolutely no interest in shooting anyone! it’s a win win, bucko, come on, hands where she can see ‘em, smiles on.”
Blaise Zabini was staring down at the streets from the balcony, ignoring the loud partying going on inside. He raised the glass of coke to his mouth and downed it, drinking down a large gulp of coke and feeling an ice cube sliding into his mouth. He swallowed the coke, and then cracked his teeth down the ice cube.
He didn’t actually started chewing ice cubes until his breakup. But this was one of the ways that could easily remind him of his ex-boyfriend, who had made a habit of so. Blaise never really understood the appeal himself.
He wondered why he liked torturing himself with things that reminded him of his ex.
He head some footsteps, and turned to see the person joining him. Marcus Flint stood in front of him, and Blaise took a moment to study the ex-Quidditch captain. Marcus’s athletic, roguishly handsome look wasn’t usually Blaise’s type, but he was always quite versatile and open-minded anyway. Besides, if the rumors were true … he might have just found himself a way to take his mind of his loneliness.
“Don’t usually see you and Wood without one another,” Blaise ventured, already suspecting the reason.
“We broke up,“ Marcus said shortly. “Had a fight.”
Blaise didn’t see the point. Weren’t they always fighting? What’s the point of breaking up? Blaise wished he’d fought during his last relationship, but no, they’d thought that fighting was beneath them and opted for cold shoulders and passive aggressiveness and feigned politeness and barely concealed sneers and he’d not even fought at the suggestion of breaking up and went along with it.
“Me, too,” Blaise said finally. “Well, the breakup, not the fight.”
Fuck, how he wished he’d fought.
And suddenly it was all too overwhelming, and he couldn’t breath, and memories were flooding back and he needed a goddamn distraction right now – “Don’t ask why, but can I kiss you?”
Marcus looked bemused, then shrugged. “Eh, alright.”
Blaise would normally be insulted by the lack of enthusiasm because he’d always been quite the catch, people had always wanted him, stared at him. But he didn’t have the heart for it right now, so he just moved forwards and pressed his lips on Marcus’s.
It was intense, and hot, like wildfire. When they parted, they were both slightly panting.
“You’re good,” Marcus remarked. “Excellent kisser.”
“Thanks,” Blaise gave him a wry smile. “And I know I am.”
“But you’re not him.“
Blaise studied Marcus with a frown, and sighed. “I’m an excellent kisser. And immediately after kissing you’re thinking that I’m not him.”
Marcus arched an eyebrow. “You want me to say I’m sorry?”
“No need to lie,” Blaise grimaced. “Just – go back. Honestly. Go back to him.”
“We had a fight, as I said.”
“Lucky you,” Blaise muttered under his breath. “Well, go finish it. Fight it all out. Might not be the best way of communication, but at least it’s some form of communication and it’s definitely better than idiots who pretend everything is fine and never talk about things and just give each other cold shoulders?”
Marcus frowned. “Are you talking about –”
“Get the fuck out of here before I kiss you again,” Blaise cut across him sharply, and Marcus gave him a long look, before nodding slowly, and turned to leave.
Blaise watched the sight of Marcus faded back into the crowded party, and bit on another ice cube. He closed his eyes for a moment and he could see was the image of his ex chewing on the ice cube, with a contented smirk. He exhaled deeply, and opened his eyes again.
It never fails to confuse me that in most other countries bubble gum is a candy and not a product for dental hygiene.
Context: in Finland essentially gum (aside from like.. Hubba Bubba) is sweetened with xylithol, a natural kinda sugar found in birch trees. It doesn’t ferment and prevents the growth of some cavity inducing bacteria, so.. in here chewing gum is basically a kind of tooth-friendly after dinner mint. So hearing about things like candy-coated gum is just so so baffling.