Disclaimer: Not my peeps or places yo!

A/N: Oh wow! To my reviewers, omgosh I heart you to DEATH! You are the nicest bunch of people EVER! heart explodes with looove Oh and one of you asked me where the story was headed...Fluffy-ness of course! I definitely can't do smut...even with all of the smut I read, haha, and I just don't really like angsty-ness. So there you have it! Happyness always! So sorry about the delay, I've been busy. Have fun with this chapter! There aren't any notes, but trust me, you will not be disappointed.

Harry woke up the next morning wondering why the hell a heterosexual male would have dreams involving himself, another male, and very little clothing. he was definitely scared now. No. Fucking. Way. should he be having those kinds of dreams about Malfoy.

He's good looking, okay? That's all. Even a straight guy could admit that.

Hmm. But a straight guy wouldn't have to "clean up" after noticing that another guy is attractive.

...Shut up! I'm not gay!

Harry was extremely worried. This just wasn't right. Harry groaned and rolled right off the bed. He thought maybe smashing his head on the nightstand might knock some sense into him. It didn't. But fuck did it hurt. He rubbed the back of his head. Ah well, maybe he had amnesia now!

Draco...

Damn.

After showering and dressing Harry went down to the common room just in time to see Hermione and Ron spring back from each other. Oh. So they've finally done it. They've finally gotten together. The three of them stood there awkwardly staring at each other for a moment or two.

"Alright," said Harry. "That's enough of this. I'm going to go...somewhere...anywhere..." he muttered. And he sped through the portrait hole, missing the shy grins his friends gave each other. Harry wandered down the hall and wondered vaguely when Hermione and Ron had become a couple. He also wondered when they were planning on telling him. If they were planning on telling me, he thought bitterly. He probably would have gone and asked them about it but right then he had other things on his mind.

Harry saw Professor McGonagall coming down the hall and she stopped him.

"Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor?"

"I just wanted to remind you that your detention is tonight at 8:00. My classroom." Harry nodded. "I will leave you to remind Mr. Malfoy." She nodded at something behind Harry. He turned to see Malfoy sauntering down the hall, coming in their direction. McGonagall left Harry and went on her way. Malfoy noticed Harry and fell into step beside him.

"Potter." He nodded at Harry.

"Malfoy," Harry responded, keeping his eyes downward.

"Was that about our detention?" Harry cast a quick sidelong glance at Draco before answering.

"Yes. Tonight in the classroom at 8." The two were still walking side by side and suddenly Draco realized how strange that was. When they came to a hallway intersection they both went in opposite ways, breathing twin sighs of relief. That was unbelievably awkward...How will we get through tonight? Harry continued his very confused inner monologue all day. Was he gay? Was Malfoy gay? Were those notes too flirtey? Was that Malfoy's natural hair colour?

Draco was in his room, looking at himself in the mirror. He wrinkled his nose. No, that shirt wasn't right. He took it off to change it and Blaise flopped back from his sitting position on Draco's bed.

"Ah! Stop changing! You're like a bloody woman!" Draco glared as best he could while pulling a different shirt over his head.

"That one wasn't right," he said.

"Draco, you looked fine. Besides, it's Potter. You really think he'll notice?"

"Blaise. I am not dressing to impress Potter. I want to look good because I always look good. To look good is to feel good, and if I look my best then it's easier for me to judge others." Blaise laughed as Draco gave him a mockingly sweet and innocent smile. Just then they noticed the time and Draco headed out.

When Harry got to the Transfigurations room Draco was already there. Damn, Harry thought. Could he be any hotter? I mean, from an objective, and, er, totally straight view. And it was true. Draco looked like quite the little sexpot. Even more so than usual. (A/N: Like, have you heard that song "Michael" by Franz Ferdinand? That hot. Gay hotness! lol) Draco smirked when he saw Harry staring at him, totally noticing his clothes. Stupid Blaise...Doesn't know anything...

McGonagall got there amidst this thick, smelly green fog of silence. (A/N: Wasn't that a fabulous description?) She led them into the room and got right down to business.

"You two will be setting up these new desks for the classroom." She gestured to a pile of boxes in the corner. Draco frowned.

"Why don't we just magic up the old ones?"

"We've been doing that for 200 years, Malfoy. It is time for some new desks." She turned to go, but then stopped and accio'd their wands. At their cries of protest, she pointed to a toolbox that Harry was quite sure hadn't been there a moment before.

"You will be doing this the muggle way." And with that, she left. Harry immediately walked over and took all the stuff out of one of the boxes. He didn't want to be here with Draco longer than necessary. He was mildly surprised when Draco came over to help him without even putting up a fight. Or complaining.

"Fucking ridiculous...Malfoys don't do manual labour..." Oops, scratch that. Harry sighed and just got to work. Both of them were relatively quiet, until Malfoy needed some help.

"Potter, I need some help." Harry felt jarred when he heard those words come out of the other boy's mouth. Draco Malfoy! Asking for help! Aww!

"I can't get this one in."

"Well come here."

"Here...Try it."

"Wow...it's really tight..."

"It won't fit. It's too big."

"I see that Malfoy. I'm right here."

"Just shove it in!"

"Just shove it in? Will that be okay?"

"Yes Potter, you have my permission. Shove in!"

"Erm...Alright."

(Grunting)

"..."

"Now it's stuck."

"Ugh! I can see that! Erm...Alright, just, just yank it out and we'll try again."

"Yank it out? That's your solution to everything!"

"Potter, I'm not amused by your double-entendres right now! We have to get the stick in the hole!"

"Fine! Sorry Malfoy, just trying to make this horrible situation a little more fun."

"Well don't bother. Pull it out!"

(A sigh and then panting)

"I can't get it out!"

"Well of course not, look how you're holding it! Stop being such a pansy and grab onto it! Get your hands around the stick!"

(A growl from Harry)

"There, see? You've got it!"

"Now how are we supposed to get it in properly? Are you sure these are the right bits?"

"Yes I'm sure! I know my bits, Potter!"

"Okay okay. Erm...Do you think maybe...I dunno maybe we can use some sort of oil or something? To slide it in easier?"

"Hmm. You're right, for once. I'll go see if McGonagall gave us any."

And the two continued on like this until they had finished the desks a few hours later. They sat on their finished works to wait until McGonagall came back and dismissed them.

"Hey Malfoy?"

"What is it?"

"Erm...Are you...er, nevermind." Of course Draco now dearly needed to know what it was that Harry was going to ask.

"You can't do that. You can't start to say something and then not! What was it, Potter?" Harry sighed and looked down, then he decided to just go for it.

"Malfoy...Are you gay?" After a few seconds of silence Harry looked up to see Malfoy smirking at him.

"And why do you want to know, Potter?" asked Draco sweetly. Harry blushed.

"Er...Just wondering. I mean...Hermione said something and I started thinking about those notes and—"

"Granger said something about me being gay?" Harry nodded.

"She really does know everything, doesn't she?" Harry's eyes widened.

"So...you are gay?" A smirk from Draco.

"Yes Potter. I'm a regular shopaholic, bathroom-hogging, rainbow-loving, prancing and twirling, boy-loving boy. Does that bother you?" Draco said all of this with a straight face and at the end looked at Harry with a very concerned and innocent look. The boy had quite a wicked sense of humour. How it is he could always keep a straight face (spare me the puns) was a mystery. Harry snorted and then answered,

"No, it doesn't bother me." He glanced up. "Should it?" Draco gave him a look.

"Of course not. But Potter...Why did you ask? You're not hiding in any closets of your own, are you?" During the time he was speaking, Draco had slid off his desk and closer to Harry. This was his chance to "put the moves on". It was his first checkpoint that Harry hadn't freaked out when he learned that Draco was as straight as a gay con-artist with scoliosis.

Harry swallowed and shook his head. Draco moved even closer.

"Are you sure Potter? Because I'm quite sure that you're checking me out right now." Harry was blushing like mad by now, and he twitched tremendously when Draco put his hand on his knee. I wasn't checking him out! I was—

But this thought was cut off when he suddenly found himself conjoined to Draco at the lips. Yes, these were the moves. And Harry, for some reason, didn't pull away, didn't punch Malfoy in the face, didn't hex him right there. He just stayed there, kissing his rival of so many years, wondering how it was his lips were so soft.

Just then Professor McGonagall came in. She stopped dead at the sight that met her eyes, and then walked right back out into the hall. She steadied herself with a wall and then shook off the shock. Clearly, she had missed something. The poor woman gathered herself and started to walk back into the room. But a very red Harry was already leaving, and a smug-looking Draco did the same after informing her that the desks were finished. McGonagall sat down in the empty room and conjured herself a very "strong" cup of tea.

A/N: REEEEEEVIEWWWWW! (please)