Title: Okay, Go.

Author: inkonhand

Rating: R for language and mature content
Pairings: HP/DM, RW/HG
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. It's all JK's. And Warner Bros. And their corporate friends.
Warnings: IT'S SLASH. Don't like, don't read.
A/N: Second chapter! So soon! I get bored really easily. Settlement does that to you (especially when you don't have any visitors for the first two hours…). I apologize for the horrible ending in the last chapter. At least, it sucked to me. I should've edited it earlier… rawr. Anyway, on to Don't Ask Me!

Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to popsicles because they rock my socks.

- Kle

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Chapter 2: Don't Ask Me

Pale wrists struggled beneath Harry's strong hands as they tried to break away from the bathroom wall. The rest of the body was fairly calm compared to the arms. Harry's hostage not only had pale wrists, but his chest was just as pale. A lean stomach and chest were exposed from the unbuttoned shirt.

"Are you trying to escape?" Harry asked deviously.

"I'm trying to get to you," the voice replied. It was the voice Harry loved to hear. Whether it was enthusiastic or sarcastic, it was music. However, this time, it was strained, for their body was finally trying to move.

Harry refused to let his captive go. He kept leaning closer and closer and the nearer he got, the slower the prisoner thrashed about. In a few moments, Harry's face was centimeters from the pale glorious visage in front of him. The brunette could feel his captive's warm, steady breathing on his lips, causing him to feel a tangled sensation down in the pit of his stomach. His emerald eyes were parallel with the silver orbs he wished to get lost in. But this was not the time.

Suddenly Harry felt strong, needy, soft lips upon his own, making him release his prey's wrists. Delicate blond hair tickled Harry's forehead as Draco's hands came to his unruly brown hair—

Harry sat up with a jolt, his eyes focusing on where he was. A couple of voices seemed to be calling his name.

"Harry! Oh, Harry, are you alright! When you fell forwards into your food we thought you might've passed out! Harry! Say something!" Hermione's frantic sentences made Harry realize that he fell asleep in the Great Hall—and soon fell into his muffin.

"Harry! What time did you get back from detention last night?" Ron asked, not as worried as Hermione, but there was a hint of concern in his voice.

"Mmmf…" Harry replied, wiping the muffin crumbs off his face, "I don' know. Two-ish?"

"We have a game today, Harry! Against Slytherin! And you didn't get enough sleep!" Ron sounded like he was about to burst. Ever since he had gotten onto the team, Ron had been obsessing about it more than all the other teammates combined. He acquired the nickname "Mother Owl" by the rest of the team; he didn't know that though. "Why didn't you think before you got yourself into detention!"

Oh jeez. Now he's starting to sound like Hermione…

"Look, it was an initial reaction. You would've jumped him instead of what I did. I didn't lay a hand on him or hex him! At least I didn't earn a detention during the game. Be glad about that." Harry argued back. The slight yawn that escaped his mouth did not help his case at all. "Besides, those cauldrons are really hard to clean out."

Ron turned his nose upwards and crossed his arms; something he would have not done if their Quidditch game wasn't at stake. "If you would've just let Hermione help you—"

"Lay off it, Ron!" Harry interjected, his voice almost yelling. He stood up hastily and huffed out of the Hall. He would have enough energy for the game. Since when was Ron that concerned about Harry's sleep?

Since he's been trying to earn Hermione's heart. Which has been forever.

On his way toward the stairs, Harry ran into Draco—quite literally. It was apparent that the boy had overslept due to his disheveled look. Harry was toppled over by Draco's force and fell to the floor, with Draco coming down with him.

Draco propped himself up to see who he knocked over.

"Ugh! Potter!" Draco said with disgust as he quickly picked himself up off Harry.

Harry lifted his hand, gesturing for Draco's help to stand up. The blond gave Harry a confused look as he said, "I only help you with Potions. Get up."

Harry rolled his eyes and slowly lifted himself off the floor. Draco was taking his time brushing himself off and fixing his appearance.

"So," Harry began, trying to start a short conversation with Malfoy, "How's it been going?"

Draco stopped moving before setting a cold glare at Harry. To match the glare, he snarled, "Don't ask me how I've been. I want to talk to you as little as possible."

And with that, he stormed off down the corridor toward the Great Hall for breakfast, leaving Harry standing there by himself. He rolled his eyes and continued on his way to the seventh floor.

#(&)#

Harry entered the locker room with a yawn. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Ron was right about the little amount of sleep. He took a nap back in the dormitory, but it seemed as though that made him more tired.

He opened his locker to find his Firebolt, Quidditch robes, and other paraphernalia. Upon removing his broom first, he noticed he hadn't been repairing it regularly; bristles were sticking out, the handle was dulling, and the cushioning spell was wearing down. Harry sighed heavily before taking out his broomstick servicing kit. He placed his broom down on the floor like a delicate child, and then took a seat in front of it with the kit in his lap.

Harry worked hastily in silence before one voice could be heard complaining about something. He turned his head in the direction of the voice. As it got louder, he could start making out what they were saying.

"…So he ran into me! Pulling me down onto the floor and making it look like I was the one running. What an idiot, Potter is… Oh, hello Potter." Malfoy spat out Harry's surname like a foul taste in his mouth. Harry peered upward over his glasses at the tall boy and his cronies. Instead of fighting back, he turned his attention back to his broomstick as he clipped off the stray bristles.

"Can't say anything back, Potter?" Draco mocked, "Did you cut out your tongue with the broom clippers? What a shame…" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled deeply as Malfoy motioned for them to follow him to the other side of the locker room.

What an ass, Harry thought, Seems as though he has enough energy for the game.

He let out another yawn and examined his broom, which now looked a lot better. Harry picked himself and the broom up off the floor. As he did, he glanced over at Draco who just let out a huge yawn.

Guess he's not as awake as he lets on.

Harry took a seat on the bench, letting his broom rest against the lockers. His eyes looked down the row to Malfoy, who was changing out of his sweater and button-down shirt. His tall figure wasn't gawky and skinny at all; he was very lean and had toned muscle, just like Harry did. Quidditch paid off, big time.

He looks exactly how he did in my dream… he's just as beautiful as I imag—what! What am I thinking!

And at that thought, Harry withdrew his attention from Draco and back to his robes in his locker. He stood up, first removing his school robe and replacing the Quidditch robe with it. He laid the gold and scarlet robe down on the bench along with his glasses, and then proceeded to remove his sweater and shirt. As he stripped off his button-down shirt, he felt like someone was watching him. Shrugging it off as just a ghost passing through, he put on a useless t-shirt he brought with him from the Dursley's. It was about six sizes too big, but it was under his Quidditch uniform. He put on his glasses, and as he did, from the corner of his eye he saw Draco's head turn back to look into his locker. Harry smirked.

Not as innocent as we seem, Draco? Or are you just checking out the competition?

Harry felt lucky because as he removed his pants, the shirt covered his entire torso down to mid-thigh. He quickly pulled his Quidditch pants on and got his shin and arm guards on. By the time he was getting his plated shoes on, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were finished.

"Don't fall asleep out there, Potter. Don't make it that easy for me." Draco sneered and as he walked by, he whapped Harry on the side of the head. Ron happened to show up right as Draco and the goons were leaving. Draco and Ron bumped shoulders and Draco gave Ron a cold stare. Ron rolled his eyes before rushing over next to Harry.

"I'm going to be so late getting on the field," Ron panted, "Hermione kept wanting to discuss the physics of Quidditch to me. I don't even know what physics is!" He tore open his locker and his broomstick, broom servicing kit, robes, and cleats all fell on top of him in one avalanche; Harry couldn't help but laugh.

Ron removed the pair of pants that seemed to have settled themselves on his head before saying in an annoyed tone, "It's not that funny, Harry."

"Yes it is!" Harry laughed.

"Well, instead of just sitting there laughing, can you pick up the servicing kit while I change?"

Harry finished laughing, and then responded, "Sure."

Ron was either very fast at changing, or Harry was still very tired. In no time, Ron and Harry were both ready to go out to the field to the rest of their team.

#(&)#

"Alright. I want a nice, clean game today," Madam Hooch instructed as all the students mounted their broomsticks, "No magic, no hexing, and no horse-play."

She blew her whistle and tossed the quaffle up into the air. Fourteen brooms rose high into the air, followed by two bludgers and the golden snitch. Katie Bell got a hold of the quaffle and almost as soon as she did, Lee Jordan was off commentating.

"And Bell has first possession of the Quaffle! I'm amazed at how quick she is, but she has yet to figured out that she should be dating me—"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry Professor. And now Johnson has the quaffle—ach —and a bludger to the side from Goyle—Warrington now has possession, flying past Spinnet and Bell—he passes to Montague—intercepted by Alicia! You go girl! She's one of the best players Gryffindor has had in years—And Fred Weasley saves Alicia from a bludger hit! I always knew he had a thing for her—sorry Professor. Stick to the action, I know. And Gryffindor scores! 10 to zero, Gryffindor lead!"

Finally, something worth hearing, Harry thought. He peered down at the action below him, watching Bletchley throw the quaffle back into play to Pucey. Not too far up above the goal posts, was Draco Malfoy, searching for the snitch. He looked very lost and confused, but Harry wasn't watching him look absent-mindedly around. He saw a glitter of gold right behind the boy.

Harry dove quickly, the wind rushing past him. His hands clutched his broom tightly, as to not slip off because, at the angle he was diving at, he should've. As he neared Draco and the snitch, he heard Lee yell, "And Crabbe has just hit a bludger toward Malfoy and Harry! Let's hope it hits Malfoy—"

His eyes shifted and Lee was not lying, a bludger was coming, and coming fast. Apparently, Malfoy heard it too, because both dove out of the way as George came by with his bat to knock it skyward.

"Lucky you have halfway decent Beaters, Potter. Too bad they're Weasleys." Harry heard Malfoy sneer. He wasn't interested in what Malfoy had to say.

"—And Warrington passes to Pucey—Pucey to Montague—Montague back to Pucey—Pucey throws for a goal… Saved by Ron Weasley! I knew that kid had it in him! Must get it from his brothers—And Bell has the quaffle—she passes to Alicia—Alicia to Katie again—Katie throws it to Angelina—Intercepted by Warrington. And now Pucey has the quaffle—and hit in the head by a bludger!—Angelina has the quaffle again—throws to Katie—and intercepted again by Montague—Montague to Warrington—Warrington to Montague—Montague scores—70 to 50, Slytherin lead…"

The last two words made Malfoy start laughing. Harry's eyes narrowed, but after watching Draco's jaw drop open and his eyes closed, he knew the boy didn't have much energy.

You can't fool me. Especially with that great yawn you just did…

Harry flew up higher into the sky, but apparently he had just gained another shadow—Malfoy. He stopped and looked at Malfoy. Harry scowled, "What do you want?"

"The snitch," Draco smirked before flying at full speed toward the glittering ball ahead of him. Harry took off after him, trailing just at the blonde's coat tails. He was gaining speed faster than Malfoy was, letting him come up next to the boy, arm outstretched. They were neck-and-neck, and from below, Harry heard Lee commentating like wildfire.

"—Johnson passes to Spinnet—Spinnet to Johnson—and a bludger to Angelina! I'll get you later, Goyle! I swear to it—oh, and Fred has just hit a bludger at Goyle! Gryffindors have so much spunk—"

Both boys had their arms outstretched, their fingers brushing against each others. Every time that happened, Harry felt a surge go through his body. He had no idea Draco's hands were that soft; it was like acid on his skin. They were nearing the snitch, Draco's long fingers outstretching Harry's. Harry kept his eyes on the snitch, but he quickly felt Draco's fingernails touch the back of his hand. He suddenly felt the cold metal of the snitch on his palm.

"And Bell has the quaffle and she's going toward the Slytherin goal without disruption—score for Gryffindor!—it's now tied, 70 to 70—wait! I lied! It's 220 to 70, Harry has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

Harry had caught the snitch and flying down to the soft grass to meet the rest of the team. The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws had erupted into cheers as he made his victory fly downwards. The Slytherins sat repugnantly annoyed in their seats, not saying a word.

Draco followed Harry down to the ground, where he joined his own team silently. This time, it was Harry's turn to smirk.

"Malfoy," Harry called, Draco's eyes looking up solemnly, "I hear there's an opening in the first year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw flying class. Maybe you can go there to work on your flying skills."

Harry watched in amazement as Draco's eyes widened then drop at his comment. He felt a warm feeling in his chest. He didn't know what it was. Draco soon regained his composure as he scowled and walked away with his team. Harry just stood there watching the mass of green walk away.

So this is how it feels to successfully insult someone… Or to be crushed by their hopeless expression.

"Harry! C'mon!" Alicia poked him to join them in putting their hands in for a cheer.

"Alright." Harry agreed, placing his hand on top of hers along with a fake smile on his face.

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A/N: Good? Bad? REVIEW! …Pweez? For Kle?