Disclaimer: I don't own, Rowling does.
« Love » Ron says.
« Bullshit » Draco answers, 'cause this may be a lot of things but it most certainly is not love.
Desire and lust and violence…Groaning and pushing and touching… But no feelings are involved and Draco can't understand the light that awakes in Ron's blue blue eyes whenever he leans in for a kiss, nor can he understand the redhead's need to engulf him in his sticky mess of limbs, cuddling, after they're done from what he likes to call their "mutual satisfaction" and what the idiot Weasley calls "love making"_ just to spite him, he's quite sure.
"Love" Ron says.
And Draco sneers, rolling his grey eyes in exasperation. 'Cause he would never ever fall for a lowly Weasel.
Attraction he can't deny… Body against body, grinding, feeling…But no place for sappy emotions. And he just doesn't quite get what need the Weasley has to smile at him right in the middle of the great hall, huge grin plastered on his face, eyes twinkling, fucking acknowledging him outside of the bedroom. He shouldn't, for it is not a relationship.
"It is so" Ron says confidently, the smile never leaving.
"It is love" he adds.
And Draco just wants to smack the idiocy right out of that ginger head.
It is not love, it cannot be.
So why can't the stupid gryffindor get it in his thick skull and just bloody well stop trying to make small talk, start conversations or actually ask him about his life back at the manor?
"Love" Ron says.
And Draco chooses to ignore him, too tired to bother, too sated to answer and too comfy to upset the redhead right out of bed. He knows Ron is wrong, wrong, wrong…
…Even if his own eyes sparkle with a different light whenever Ron's about to kiss him.
Even if he doesn't mind the cuddling all that much.
Even if he always does want to smile back whenever Ron grins towards him right in the middle of the great hall.
Even if he actually enjoys the small talk, the pity fights, the weird conversations and, for once in his short and quite miserable existence, sharing his past memories and inner thoughts with one crazy idiotic fiery gryffindor.
"Love" Ron mumbles, eyes fluttering, on the verge of sleep.
He's already snoring when Draco, eyes wide open, cheeks red and heart beating too fast, whispers back: