Disclaimer: If I owned them….ah fuck it….it's all been done. NOT MINE.
A/N: Well…here is the latest chapter. I was going to wait, but I opted to post since *every* review has consisted (basically) of "I hate Michael"…I figured I'd better get this out of the way. Your responses are *greatly* appreciated. Thank you all. Please review.
Thanks to Jasmine, for the usual support and for your help and enthusiasm with my character's violent tendencies. *grin*
Chapter 9…………F*ck Off.
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Harry Potter *loved* Ireland. He'd been there for two weeks and had loved every minute of it. The country was beautiful, the people were friendly, and they had won the first of two quidditch games. The only thing that kept Harry from enjoying himself completely was…as usual…his own thoughts. Harry was quite lonely at times. Which is hard to imagine since he was usually surrounded by people. He missed Ron and Hermione…and he missed Draco.
'Maybe I should start dating…' Harry entertained the thought.
After thinking about dating for far too long, Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. 'Why am I trying to plan everything out? God…you'd think I was divorced….'
Harry cursed under his breath when the snitch zoomed across his sight. He dove immediately; giving chase to the winged ball that he would hopefully catch and win the second of his games in Ireland.
From the stands, an excited Draco Malfoy yelled along with the rest of the crowd at Harry's sudden dive. Beside him, Michael sat quietly…obviously bored. He let his mind drift over the two weeks that Harry had been gone, and the time he had spent with Draco. After apologies and a few very long work days, the two had gotten somewhat comfortable around each other again. The most memorable event though, had occurred just five days before their business trip. Their 'leisure' time that they had used to watch Harry's game gave Michael ample time to replay the events.
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FLASHBACK
It was well past midnight; Michael and Draco had been working on a particularly difficult problem. Frustrated, Draco threw his papers to the floor and stomped to the bar in his suite. He made two drinks while Michael calmly pulled out a stool to sit across from him. He leaned his chin in his hand and accepted the proffered drink.
"Frustrating…isn't it?"
Draco leaned back against the wall, his drink tucked against him. "Yes, it is."
"Well let's talk about something else then."
"Like what?" Draco asked with a quirked brow.
"I took the painting down."
"Why?"
"It seemed to disturb you, so…."
Draco moved in a bit closer and sat his drink on the bar. "I want it. How much were you asking at the gallery?"
This piqued Michael's interest. "200£…but really, if you want it, you can just have it…"
"No…I want to buy it. It's very good."
"Well, alright then, but…why do you want it in the first place?"
Draco looked away, flustered. "It's just…I've never seen myself quite like that. It intrigued me…frankly I don't know how you see me that way…"
Michael reached over and took Draco's chin between his fingers, forcing the grey gaze back to him. "Haven't we been over this?"
There was complete silence as Draco's thoughts churned inside his head. Finally he found a coherent one. "I know what you want from me…I'm just not sure I'm ready or willing to give it to you."
Michael laughed and took his hand away, leaving Draco feeling more vulnerable than before. "Not ready for what? To be single? I don't want to marry you, Draco. I don't want you to drop to your knees and profess your undying, and false might I add, love for me. I don't want a key to your room, nor to your heart…at least…not at this point in time."
Draco blinked, surprised. "Well…what do you want then?"
With a smile, Michael leaned across the bar and tilted his head, a mere breath away from Draco. He paused a moment, and was pleased when Draco did not pull away. His confidence bolstered, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to Draco's in a soft kiss. When the Slytherin still did not pull back, he deepened the kiss and let out a small moan of appreciation when Draco reciprocated his efforts with his own tongue. There was, however, the small matter of the not so small bar between the two of them. Pulling gently on Draco's shoulders, Michael guided him up on top of the bar and over to him, never breaking the kiss. When Draco pulled back, mildly confused at the purpose of his new position, Michael pulled his legs to hang over the side so that he sat on the edge of the bar, facing the darker man who remained on his stool. The dark haired man leaned in for another kiss, but Draco placed his hand on his chest and pushed him away.
"Are you saying you expect to sleep with me, nothing more?"
Michael leaned back. "I'm saying I don't *expect* anything from you."
Draco leaned into him again and murmured "Good" against the other man's lips. Just as he applied pressure with his mouth, the stool protested to the extra weight and toppled backwards taking both men with it to the floor. They landed in a heap – Michael on the floor, and Draco on Michael. Once it was established that no one was injured, they both began to laugh and Draco propped himself up with both of his hands planted on the floor on either side of Michael's head. The laughs slowly faded and Michael, ever the opportunist, used the new position to his advantage. He raised his head and this time did not pause to give Draco time to back out before he claimed his mouth. He was shocked when Draco did not try to retreat, although he made a small sound of surprise in his throat at the sudden attack. When he was allowed to deepen the kiss, Michael ran his hands to the hem of Draco's shirt and slipped his fingers underneath the material, feeling the younger man shudder over him. He ran his hands upward, pushing the shirt away and was about to reposition himself to remove it completely when the phone rang.
"Don't get that." He pleaded.
"Don't get what?"
Michael smiled. "Good boy."
When the ringing stopped, Michael resumed his task and had just gotten back into the flow of things when the ringing started up again. Draco growled again, but then sighed with resignation as he pushed his shirt back down over himself and scrounged for his mobile. He grabbed at the device irritably, expecting a silly question from one of the people who worked for him.
"What?" he growled into the phone.
"We won!" came the voice from the other end.
"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, happy to hear from him. "You caught the snitch? That's fantastic!"
Michael sighed and threw his arm over his eyes from where he lay on the floor. "Great…" he mumbled under his breath… "Harry Potter…" When it became apparent that Draco was not going to tell Harry to go away, and that he was busy, Michael sat up and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He sat there for several minutes until Draco finally came back into the room, having hung up the phone. He turned to the, sadly, still clothed blonde and quirked his brow.
"Harry Potter?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, he wanted to tell me he won the game in Ireland. He sounded a bit drunk, actually." Draco chuckled. "The next game is in five days, right in the middle of our trip. I think we may have to stop by…I haven't seen a good quidditch game in ages…"
"Can't wait." Michael made no attempt to hide his sarcasm.
Draco folded his arms over his chest and smirked like the Malfoy he was. "You'd better get going…I have more flat hunting to do early tomorrow morning."
With a scowl, Michael stood. "You want me to go? Now?"
"I do…and since you don't expect anything, you can hardly be disappointed, now can you?"
Michael grabbed his coat and threw it on, shaking his head while heading for the door. "Do you know something?...You are one evil bastard."
Draco smiled while holding the door open. "So I've been told. Goodnight."
*END FLASHBACK*
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And so here they were. Nothing had happened since that night, and Michael was beginning to wonder if it ever would. He was, however, not one to give up so easily. When the wearisome game had finally ended, he followed Draco out of the stands to congratulate the great and wonderful Harry Potter…along with everyone else in the crowd.
When Harry noticed Draco, he smiled brightly and the two shared a hug. The former Gryffindor's expression dropped a bit though when he noticed Michael. Even so, he forced a smile. Harry turned his attentions back to Draco.
"What are you doing here?"
"Business trip…and we had some free time, so I thought we'd come to your game. Excellent show, as always."
Harry was about to say something, but was cut off by Michael addressing Draco. "I see Pierre De Lorme, he's excellent friends with Mr. Rousseau from the current deal. I'm going to go talk to him…if you'll excuse me."
Draco stopped him from leaving. "Let me…I need to get used to all this, it is *my* company…remember." He turned to Harry. "I'll see you later, okay? Besides, I'm sure you have plenty of autographs to sign."
The blonde headed for the French man's social circle with his head held high and possessing unimaginable amounts of nobility and grace. Back where he had just been, Michael spoke to no one in particular, although Harry was still beside him.
"He really is amazing."
Harry snorted and made to leave, but Michael caught his arm and pulled him back. His grip tightened and he narrowed his eyes at the boy who lived.
"What is it that gets you so upset? Is it seeing him with someone else? Or seeing him with *me*?"
Harry snatched his arm away and grit his teeth. He counted to ten and tried to keep his voice calm. "I don't know what you mean."
"You know *exactly* what I mean. Is this your idea of letting him go? Getting him out of your flat long enough to make him think he's free to do what he wants, but still gripping onto him as if he's yours?"
Harry gripped his broom so hard; he thought he might break it. "And I suppose you think he's yours then?"
Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "He's no one's. If you'd let go for more than five minutes, he might see that too."
"Just what do you mean by that?"
"If you want to be his friend…if you want what's best for him, leave him alone."
Harry scoffed. "Leave him alone? I didn't even know you two would be here. I'm not his keeper."
Michael adopted a malevolent smile. "He wouldn't have even known about this game if you hadn't called him last week and interrupted a particularly heated moment."
Snarling, Harry stepped closer to the other man and growled out his response. "Just what do you mean by 'heated'?"
"I don't see how that is any of your business."
Both heads snapped towards the source of the last comment. Draco stood close to them and very…very…angry. Michael smiled and stepped closer to him, and Harry moved in as well. Over confident, Michael directed his next comment at Harry.
"Not even the Great Harry Potter gets his way all of the time. You should learn your place."
*THWACK*
Harry stood still, smirking and satisfied.
Michael stood still, his head turned to the side from the right hook he'd just received to the jaw.
Draco stood still, staring at his fist as though it has disobeyed him and hit Michael against his wishes.
All was still for several moments. Finally, Michael recovered and wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth. His voice was low and cutting. "Nice, Malfoy…real nice." He turned and started to stalk away, but his last comment did not go unheard by Draco, or Harry. "…Fucking kids…"
Harry didn't remember throwing his broom down, he didn't remember taking off in a run, and he didn't remember jumping on top of Michael from behind. But he found himself seated on top of the man, slamming his face into the ground. Michael managed to throw him off and gained the upper hand with a well placed uppercut. They seemed to trade blows like clockwork, not noticing Draco who was screaming at them to stop fighting. The crown gathered around the three, always hungry for gossip. Draco yelled again and neither man acknowledged him. There was a loud bang and suddenly everything was shrouded in darkness. Every light in the pitch had exploded, leaving the crowd in shadows. Harry and Michael immediately paused their altercation and soon focused on Draco who seemed almost to glow. He had his head down, his face darkened by his hair. Harry had only seen this happen once before. It took a really powerful and *really* angry wizard to cause such destruction…and wandless no less.
Both Michael and Harry scrambled over to him, ignoring the shards of broken glass littering the ground. Michael got there first. "Draco…"
Draco almost hissed in his anger. "Fuck. Off. When I get to the room, your things had better not be in it."
"But…"
"Fuck. Off."
Michael's concern gave way a bit to anger. "Am I fired?"
Draco's voice still sounded more like a growl. "Did I say you were fired? Now go!"
In the next moment, Harry stood and approached Draco with a small smile. "Thanks…for taking up for…"
"He was right… you know."
Harry was confused, and a little irritated at the interruption. "Excuse me?"
Draco kept his fists at his sides, and his head down, as he was still furious. "Michael…he was right. This isn't working. I don't think we should see as much of each other."
Harry opted not to argue, judging by what had just happened to the lights. He had no doubt that he could best Draco in a duel…but ultimately didn't feel like dueling Draco in the first place. Instead, he summoned his broom.
"Fine…do whatever you want. That was the point wasn't it?" Harry turned his back and walked away.
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TBC
I love you…don't hit me…too hard. *Please* just remember that it always has to get worse before it can get better. And hey…at least Michael caught it in the jaw…
Please review.
Love and Kisses,
Reika
