“My one weakness,” Blaise smirks, ordering another shot from the bartender.
“What’s that?” Neville asks curiously as he slides into the seat next to Blaise.
“Tequila,” Blaise replies with a grin, taking the drink from the bartender and shooting it back. “Would you like one for yourself?”
“No, that’s quite alright. I already had a glass of wine at the reception.”
“Come on now, Longbottom, have another drink,” Blaise purrs. “You could loosen up a bit and tequila works like a charm for that.”
“Really, I’m fine,” Neville says, blushing ever so slightly. His gaze wanders around the crowded bar, resting his eyes on the happy couple snogging in the corner. “It was really a lovely wedding, don’t you think?”
“A little cliche for me; getting married on a beach at sunset,” Blaise drawls, “but whatever Potter wants, Draco is sure to give him.”
“Well, I thought it was beautiful.”
“You’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you Longbottom?” Blaise mumbles, the tequila starting to kick in. “I bet you would need to be wined and dined before being taken to bed.”
“Oh, um, I-” Neville stutters, face flushing a deeper shade of pink.
Blaise leans towards Neville, throwing an arm around him and pulling him close. “I bet you’d have to really get to know me first. We’d have to go on quite a few dates before you’d let me devour you, tie you up and make you mine.”
Neville swallows audibly and Blaise removes his arm with a sigh. “It’s a shame you’re so bloody innocent, Longbottom. Although, maybe that’s part of the appeal.”
Neville stares at Blaise, his eyes dark and indecipherable in the dim light of the bar.
“One shot of tequila, please,” Neville orders from the bartender.
Blaise watches in silent curiosity as Neville swallows the liquor in one go, setting the glass back down on the bar with a grimace. Neville abruptly rises from his chair, turning to Blaise before he leaves.
“In case you’re wondering,” Neville says with a shy smile, “I’m staying in room 713.”