Disclaimer: Relax already, they're not mine.

Tickle Me Not

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, frowning and trying his best to understand the arduous text on 'Gamp's laws of 2nd level transfiguration' open in front of his eyes. As much as he tried to concentrate though, he kept thinking of distracting activities like playing quidditch or doing things to a certain someone in bed. He tried to rid his brain of these thoughts but failed miserably, finally giving up and covering a huge yawn with his palm. He let the ghastly book fall on his chest and took a deep breath.

He was in the eighth year common room, lying on a comfortable couch, his head on one of its arms. At the other end of the couch sat a pale blonde boy with his legs crossed, poring over a thick potions book, looking dimly aware of his surroundings. His back was slightly hunched, his elbows resting on his lower thighs as he barely managed to hold up the heavy book. Harry's left foot lay behind Malfoy's back, resting on the back of the couch, whereas his right knee was propped up, to make room for Malfoy, his foot resting lightly on Malfoy's hip. Across the room sat Hermione by the fireplace, viciously scribbling on a piece of parchment while Ron lay flat on his back on the carpet, snoring softly, evidently waiting for his girlfriend to finish off.

Harry yawned again, without bothering to cover his mouth this time and put his hands behind his head. He wasn't exactly sleepy even though he was tired, which happened to him a lot these days. Trying not to focus his thoughts on his exhausting sleepless exploits every night, he stared at his boyfriend seated at his feet. Observing Draco Malfoy did the trick quite smoothly and a faint grin crept over Harry's lips as he did so. While he, Ron and Hermione were clad in casual sleeping gear—T-shirts and sweats, Malfoy was still wearing his uniform, his sleeves rolled up and tie slung over his shoulder. The prat never wore sweats or anything remotely close, and his silk pyjamas had never seen the world outside bedrooms. He was quite the spectacle when he was absorbed in his work, thought Harry. His eyebrows were knit together and his kept pressing his lips together and flicking his tongue over them once in a while.

A mischievous thought struck Harry, most probably resulting from Malfoy's immense concentration power and his lack thereof. Carefully, he nudged his waist with his toes and waited for a reaction. Malfoy barely registered the action and without looking up, muttered, "What..." in a fairly preoccupied tone.

I'll show you what, thought Harry as he poked him again in the same spot, this time, harder.

Malfoy immediately jerked and wriggled uncomfortably, before proceeding to shower Harry with his well-practised death glare. "What do you want?" he hissed.

Without caring to reply, Harry smirked and made to nudge him again, but Malfoy slapped his foot away and covered his waist region with his left hand, a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. Harry had no plans of giving up. He attacked the same spot with his left foot and had the satisfaction of watching him jerk swiftly again while letting out the faintest giggle. Before he could do anything to protect himself or fend Harry off, he poked him again and again to be rewarded by a most fantastic sight, one he wouldn't forget anytime soon.

Malfoy jerked up at each nudge, writhing and wriggling in his seat, while letting out shrieks of laughter in a high pitched, girly voice he'd never heard him use before. The heavy book in his hands wasn't letting him defend himself against Harry's tickle attack and Harry thoroughly congratulated himself on eliciting such a response from an otherwise dignified Slytherin.

"What—STOP—Potter—what're you—" every word was punctuated by a series of hysterical giggles, as Malfoy almost fell off the couch.

Hermione was watching them with her mouth open. Ron opened one bleary eye to check out the source of the noise and looked at Hermione to see if she could explain. Hermione shook her head and gave him a weak smile.

THWACK!

"Ow!" Harry's hands reached his throbbing forehead where Malfoy had thrown his heavy potions book. The book slid to the floor and Harry looked up to see Malfoy panting, his hands clutching the tender spot Harry had just assaulted. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes were wide and bright, his mouth slightly open. Presently his ragged breathing slowed and he turned to Harry, quite livid with rage.

"You absolute scumbag! What the fuck were you thinking?"

Harry resisted his urge to immediately go over and kiss Malfoy when he was looking so adorably flustered. Instead he said in a bored voice, because he knew that would annoy him even more, "Relax, already."

Grinning internally at Malfoy's expression he reached for his book that was on the floor and held it out for Malfoy, who snatched it from him. He then blew a kiss at him and said, "You're welcome."

"Is he mad?" Malfoy addressed Ron and Hermione, who were still watching them with horribly blank expressions.

They looked at each other and then back at Malfoy and shrugged.

"Gryffindors," he said with a shake of his head.

~Fin~

A/N: I don't have any explanation for this one. Just got bored I guess. Anyway I'm in the middle of highly important exams and haven't posted anything in ages so...yeah, I'm happy that I could post something. Reviews please? :)