A/N: Just going to leave this here.

I Don't Want a Nickname

pairing; one-sided Draco/Fred

"Okay, okay. Dray. How 'bout that? It's cool. Nice ring to it."

"Drop it."

It started as a quiet lunch, in a quiet flat, which one of them had been coerced into.

"Drake!"

"I don't want a bloody nickname.

"Drakey."

"What on Earth makes you think I'd—"

"You can call me Freddie."

"I don't want to—"

'Coerced', in this instance, meaning 'blackmailed'. And 'blackmailed' meaning 'threatened with the knowledge that the man sitting opposite him could easily tell someone that a lunch much like this one had taken place the previous week'. And, perhaps, that there had been another the week before that…

The young man carried on as if his companion had never spoken. "That's a right I reserve for George and pretty girls."

"Are you saying I'm a pretty girl?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you aren't in the slightest. Not the girl part, at least." A wink followed, which prompted a slight groaned of annoyance from the other.

"So, what, now I'm pretty?"

"Well you do have long lashes."

"Are you flirting with me, Weasley?"

"Of course I am."

The previous lunches had been a stupid mistake, Draco told himself, and so was this one. Fred's last comment made him feel uneasy. Maybe 'uneasy' wasn't the best word, but he wasn't sure what the right word was, because it wasn't a feeling he'd experienced before. Uneasy was the closest he could get.

A door opened and closed loudly in the shop beneath them, and Draco jumped; Fred took another sip of tea.

"This is the last time," Draco warned, standing and grabbing the pot above the fireplace that contained Floo powder. It occurred to him briefly that he shouldn't know exactly where it was.

"So same time next week, then?"

Draco turned to scowl at him, but then Fred winked again and the uneasy feeling returned.

He heard someone climbing the stairs up to the flat, and Fred nodded to him; "Best get going, then," he said, and Draco gave a nod of agreement. Without another word to his companion he dipped his hand into a pot and tossed a handful into the fireplace; he disappeared into the flames only moments before the door opened.

A/N: Sshh, stop judging my ship. If you think this is bad you should see the Bellatrix/Fred I wrote. Probably not posting that...