What It Means

Disclaimer: If I owned them…








 

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.

********************************************

 

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 thi was 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.

 

******************************************

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. “H’t w’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, anlse lse 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 ed hed 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 onethe 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, hntednted 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*

*******************************************************

 

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.

  Whe 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 auaphsaphs 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?”

  Har 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,ve hve him alone.”

 

Harry
scoffed. “Leave him alone? I didn’t even know you two would be here. I’m not
hisper.per.”

 

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 he mhe man, slamming his face into the ground. Michael
managed to throw off 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.

 

********************************************************************

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…

  nbspnbsp;

Please
review.

 

Love and
Kisses,

 

Reika