Fic: "Walk of Shame" (Blaise Zabini/Patil twins, PG-13)

[katie_flint]

Title: Walk of Shame
Author: katie_flint
Pairing/Character: Blaise Zabini/Padma Patil/Parvati Patil
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A
Challenge: HP_HumpDrabbles weekly
A/N: This was really fun and being honest, I was planning on a higher rating for it but I just got so into the set up I ran out of room xD Alas, next time!
Summary: Blaise Zabini makes the mistake, one drunken night, of catcalling Padma Patil. At least, he thought it was Padma, however, he’s not so sure the subsequent morning; nor in the days that follow.

Blaise Zabini makes the mistake, one drunken night, of catcalling Padma Patil. At least, he thought it was Padma, however, he’s not so sure the subsequent morning; nor in the days that follow. Furthermore, Blaise comes to find the sisters aren’t exactly willing to tell him, which is a completely different matter from the one he currently faces regarding them.

The Patil sisters aren’t like most women, certainly not Slytherin or Hufflepuff women. No, they prefer to handle his indiscretion in their own, unique manner. It’s quite possibly Blaise’s first and most valuable experience dealing with these Gryffindor-Ravenclaw women.

They shame him, this Slytherin philanderer. Mercilessly. Parvati catcalls him and Padma reminds him lewdly of his offense toward them, and the even greater crime of mistaking one sister for the other (supposedly).

Blaise bears the brunt of this assault with an unwavering dignity, despite the rather unfortunate effect it has on his reputation. The sisters think they’re shaming him, what they don’t realize, is that they’re only fueling his enchantment with them.

What began as a pure happenstance one drunken moment, has transformed itself into a full blown fixation surrounding these two outspoken, swarthy women. Blaise doesn’t tell them that he’s learned to differentiate between the two of them weeks ago, back when they first started this ‘punishment’. And he certainly doesn’t let on how he’s learned to tell the difference.

Their passion for his transgression infatuates Blaise, and draws him ever closer to his fixation with them. He’s learned the different ways in which the girls flush when the begin to spout their speeches his way. How Padma’s skin flushes down the sides of her neck and seemingly further beneath her collar. Blaise has caught himself forgetting to listen to their slanderizations more than once, wondering how far that flush might go. With Parvati, her blushes are quite different altogether. More obvious than even the boldest flushing on Padma’s neck, Parvati’s cheeks turn a brilliant burgundy as she sets into him, growing ever stronger as she carries on. Blaise would love to say he listens to her more, because truly he thinks himself respectful of women all in all, but he can’t helping wondering what those flushed cheeks might look like wrapped around his cock.

It’s not that he’s had enough of their talking, because Blaise honestly enjoys watching them talk, but he’s begun to notice other things about them as well. Like the way Parvati’s irises expand as she stares him down boldly, and the way Padma hurls her hair just so over her shoulder when they saunter away; leaving him in a cloud of her intoxicating scent. He thinks it would smell rather pleasant on his bed sheets.

What he’s feeling for these femme fatals appears to be gratifyingly mutual, and Blaise senses the line of disdain they’ve drawn between themselves and him has slowly blurred with the lust for him.

Blaise is confident, perhaps overly confident in his observations, “So loves, when are we gonna fuck?”