Draco felt his heart go faster. "You're... gay?"
                              
"Yeah, I'm sure you purebloods are homophobes as well?"
                              
"Generally," he muttered, still astonished and staring. "You're really gay?"
                              
"Well, if it bugs you, go whine to McGonagall about being afraid of me molesting you, and you can find a normal, hetero to room with," Potter spat, angry and stood up. He stomped to his wardrobe and shoved his stuff inside in no particular organization.
                              
"You don't need to get your knickers in a twist, Potter."
                              
"I'm tired of it all. The stares and harassment. I don't need to be snubbed by you on a daily basis, too."
                              
"Hey! Did I say it bugged me?" he hissed. "I just... you don't exactly... scream gay to me."
                              
"Sorry I don't conform to gay stereotypes, Malfoy. Can you get any more prejudicial? You're the leader of the purebloods, aren't you? You're a perfect representation of all that's pure and straight in the world!"
                              
"Gah! Can you be anymore prejudicial, asshole?" Draco spat back.
                              
"Excuse me? Get out! I'm not just going to listen to your straight views, Malfoy."
                              
"Salazar, you are an idiot! I mean... wait... you really mean... you never noticed?"
                              
Potter raised an eyebrow. "Noticed what?"
                              
"Hello, Potter... I've been gay the whole time. Haven't you noticed the hair and my stylish wardrobe?" Draco snorted.
                              
"Ummm... ahhh... I... ummm... no?" he stammered, wide-eyed.
                              
"Some of us do conform to stereotypes, prat. And some of us had to deal with jerks who hate me for it."
                              
"You went with Pansy to the Yule Ball!" Potter almost half-shouted.
                              
"Yeah, appearances. I can't just go waving a pride flag when "I'm the leader of the purebloods", idiot."
                              
"I... umm... yeah... sorry."
                              
"I think that was an apology."
                              
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you a gay-bashing pureblood."
                              
"Thanks... I think," he muttered. "But back to my point, I catch you in my bed with someone else, I'm hexing both of you."
                              
"Fine," he responded, but Potter was staring back at him, with a hint of desire and a smile.
                              
"No... stop that. It's a horrible idea."
                              
"I didn't do anything," he smirked.
                              
"No. You were thinking it. Just organize your fucking wardrobe Potter, your cretin."
                              
Potter laughed. "Fine."
                              
Draco rolled his eyes and started unpacking, too. Oh, fucking hell, he thought to himself. What have I gotten myself into? He glanced back at Potter, who gave him a smirk... and a wink. Nope. He grabbed his pajamas, strode right past Potter to the bathroom and locked the door. He was never going to change in front of him anyway, but this just made it certain. He did some deep breathing and took a swallow of the Calming Potion in his toiletry bag.
                              
This will not end well. Well, it was his own fault for telling Potter his second-biggest not-secret. He changed into his green silk pajamas and went back out. He didn't say anything to Potter and just got into his bed, and buried his head in the pillow.
                              
Potter scuffled over, seemingly worried. "Hey, I'm sorry... I was just... messing with you. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. You don't have to go to the loo to change."
                              
"I don't care. I want to sleep."
                              
"I'm sorry. I never met anyone who was... I mean... that I know was...."
                              
Draco lifted his head up. Potter looked embarrassed and hurt. He was obviously still a fresh gay. 
                              
"If you want to talk about your feelings and what it means to be gay, we can do it tomorrow. Stop coming on to me, though. I would never date anyone...."
                              
Potter's eyes narrowed. "Yeah?"
                              
"...with that hairdo. You're a disgrace to queers everywhere. Do you own a brush?"
                              
Potter relaxed. "Yeah... but it just does... it. I mean by itself."
                              
"Yeah, sure. But I'm tired and have no desire to stay up all night and gossip about guys we like."
                              
Potter smiled and the hurt was gone out of his eyes. "Damn it. I was so looking forward to that. Alright, goodnight, Malfoy."
                              
"Goodnight, Potter...."