Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/279037.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      implied_Bill/Oliver, Oliver_Wood/Angelina_Johnson
  Character:
      Oliver_Wood, Angelina_Johnson
  Additional Tags:
      Teen_Sex, First_Time
  Series:
      Part 8 of Past_Curfew
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-17 Words: 8539
****** Best Mates ******
by juice817, semaphoredrivethru
Summary
     You can ask your best mate for anything. It doesn't mean they have to
     say yes, but you can always ask...
Notes
     Contains improbably good first time heterosexual sex.
     Originally posted November 29, 2006.
~~~*~~~
The thing about best friends, is that you can ask them anything. If it's a
question, they might not answer, and if it's a favour, they might not do it.
But you can still ask them, because a best friend is the person you trust more
than anyone else in the world, the person who understands you best because
there are a hundred, a thousand different reasons why you're best friends to
begin with, and it all means that no matter what, you can talk to that person.
For girls, a best friend is someone to gossip with, to share hopes and dreams
with. Angie wasn't sure if it was any different for boys, and she couldn't
judge by how Oliver behaved, because he really was unlike all the other boys
she'd ever met. He was just as Quidditch-focused (obsessed , Angie's mum called
it) as she was, had the same outlook on most everything as she did, and even
had the same taste in blokes as she did. Really, if he'd had breasts, no one
would have ever thought it strange that they become the closest of friends.
However, when she'd introduced Oliver to her parents after a particularly
brilliant game, they hadn't been very thrilled that their daughter's best
friend had the wrong bits, and Angie had been blessed with a series of
uncomfortable lectures about boys and girls and how waiting until she was older
before starting dating was what she really ought to do.
Not that it really mattered, since long before Oliver had come to her and
confessed to liking boys Angie had figured out that she wasn't Oliver's type.
And neither, in all honesty, was he hers. He was too short, too plain, too...
Oliver. Too much a best friend to ever be considered boyfriend material, even
if Alicia thought Oliver was the most brilliant boy in school and that Angie
was a bloody fool not to make her move.
Oliver still wasn't Angie's type, and he never would be. But, he would most
likely always be her best friend, which was why Angie had taken the better part
of an hour to fluff and primp and energise herself like she was about to play
for the House Cup, and why when she was finished, she made her way across the
pitch to the supply shed, where Oliver was putting away supplies after a
practise session with Fred and George. Something about new techniques for
aiming bludgers at the other team.
She almost chickened out. Almost went back up to her dorm to think of a better
way to do this, but at the same time she knew that if nothing better had
occurred to her over the past week, another evening wouldn't help. Drawing back
her shoulders and fixing a smile on her face, Angie reached out and tapped
Oliver on the shoulder.
"Oliver. Hi," she said, her voice sounding strangely breathy.
Oliver turned and smiled at Angie. She'd been acting so odd the last few days,
and now she looked nervous. He smiled gently at her and brushed the hair back
from her face, tucking it behind one ear. "Hi," he said softly. Was she sick?
What was going on?
"Got a minute?" she asked, one hand clenching in the wool of her uniform skirt.
"There's something I want to... well, here's a fair sight better than the
middle of the common room. Or we could go for a walk, if you wanted... I
just..." She sighed, and then laughed at herself. "Got a minute?"
Oliver hefted the ball box up onto its self and dusted his hands off. "Now I
do, and always for you." He tucked his hands into his pockets and jerked his
head toward the other side of the pitch. "Let's walk."
Angie smiled nervously and walked with him. After a few steps, she stopped in
her tracks, looked up at her best friend, took a deep breath and said, "So I
need to ask a favour of you. A really, really, really huge, I mean, er,
important favour. Well, important to me, and it's not like it's a little thing
to you. I mean, not something major..." She sighed, face screwed up in
frustration; this was all coming out wrong, and all of her careful planning
wasn't working out right. "Bollocks," she muttered, shoulders sagging a bit.
Freeing one hand from his pocket, Oliver put his arm around Angie's shoulders
and laughed softly in relief. "I thought you were going to tell me you were
dying or something," he said with a wide smile. "But if you need a favour then
that's not the problem." He hugged her closer. "Anything you need, it's yours."
"Might want to wait on the offering until you know what I'm asking for," Angie
muttered, but wrapped a tentative arm around him, steadying herself. Oliver had
always been a good, solid rock for her. He'd always been there for her. He'd
understand why she was asking this, right? "See, the thing is, I went with Fred
Weasley to the Astronomy Tower Friday last, only I think it was actually George
that met me there. They like to do that to the girls, switch places, and I'm
not going to spoil their fun by telling them I'd know them apart in the dark,
you know? But anyway, so I went with George-who-was-pretending-to-be-Fred, and
we had a nice time, only I've not really done much more than snogging, and I
don't want to embarrass myself -- because you know about my thing for Weasley
Quidditch players -- so I lied and said I thought I heard someone coming, and I
ran out of there, but I know that excuse won't work too much more, so I was
thinking, maybe, you could help a mate out with all that, being as you're a boy
and you're the only boy I know that's really had any sex."
Oliver grinned, the expression slightly smug and full of memories of the sex
he'd had, and wistful at the same time. "Well," he said, "the sex I had is a
little different than the sex you'll have, but I guess I can still tell you
about it." He lifted an eyebrow. "You want more details than I told you
already? What do you want to know?" Wow. He didn't know that girls knew the
twins switched on them.
Angie felt her cheeks heat up, glad her skin was too dark to show the blush.
Flustered, she shoved at Oliver's chest. "No, you git," she said, rolling her
eyes. "I don't want you to tell me about it."
"What then?" Oliver said, then flushed red. "You want to watch us?" He was
fairly sure Bill wouldn't agree to that. Would he?
"Could I?" Angie asked, wide-eyed and thoroughly distracted. "Wait, no. That's
not what I meant, either. No, I meant that maybe you could... and me... we
could... you know. As a favour. You know?"
Oliver swallowed. Yeah. "I know," he said, voice a little rough. "Angie, I -
I've never even kissed a girl before."
"Well, I know that," Angie said, rolling her eyes at him. "And you're with
Bill, but I wasn't sure if it would even be considered cheating since I'm a
girl and you're gay and you're my best mate, so I thought maybe..." she trailed
off, and then shook her head, laughing. "Never mind. It was just a bloody
stupid idea, is all. I shouldn't've put you on the spot like that, sorry,
yeah?"
Oliver laughed shortly, not sure after that last owl that he was really with
Bill at all. "Bill keeps telling me I should shag other people my own age, so I
don't think he'd think it's cheating." His lips turned down briefly and he
sighed, then he mustered up a smile for Angie. "It's not a stupid idea, I'm
just not sure I'd know what I was doing." He squeezed her close again. "If you
really want to, we can try." Stopping in the middle of the pitch, he wrapped
his other arm around her and hugged her, kissing the top of her head. "We can
do it."
Angie hugged Oliver right back, her small, strong arms snug around his familiar
form. "Really?" she asked, breathless because her stomach was suddenly doing
backflips at the idea that they really were going to do this. She'd expected
him to turn her down, but at the same time Angie was glad he hadn't. She
couldn't think of anyone she'd trust more for this. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Oliver said softly. Then he laughed. "I think." He squeezed
her again and then let go. "I hope you still feel the same way after."
"Either way," she said, pulling back her shoulders and tucking her hair back
behind her ear, smiling up at him trustingly, "we'll still be friends. Best
mates."
"Of course." Oliver smiled down at her. There was no question in his mind on
that - she'd always be his best mate. He put his arm back around her shoulder
and started them walking again. "When do you want to do it?"
"Soon," Angie laughed, walking with him. "Before I lose my nerve. I'd hate to
be the first Gryffindor to ever chicken out of something as simple as sex, you
know?"
Oliver snickered. "I think I'd chicken out before you." He thought about it for
a minute. "This Saturday is Hogsmeade, maybe we should stay here and do it
then, when everyone else is gone. Or we could do it out here somewhere instead,
I guess."
"We could do it on Percy's bed while he's out spoiling everyone else's fun,"
Angie suggested, grinning wickedly despite the strange, fluttery sensation in
her stomach. "I swear, he goes on Hogsmeade trips just to catch people breaking
rules."
"Angie!" Oliver laughed helplessly. That certainly sounded like Percy. "Even if
you do, I don't want to have sex on Percy's bed. You're not the one who hears
the noises he makes at night."
Angie looked mildly nauseous at that. "That's gross, Wood," she said,
shuddering theatrically. "Fine then, we'll come out here when everyone else
goes to the village. Deal?"
"Deal." Oliver was the nervous one now. "I, er, I'll find a blanket. You don't
want to do it in my bed, or yours?"
"Boys can't get in the girls' dorms," Angie said with a shrug. She'd actually
spent a good few hours trying to find a way around that, in fact, back when
she'd first noticed Fred (and George) giving her the eye. "Besides, the idea of
doing it in bed just seems so... romantic. Unless you think we'd get caught
otherwise? Where do people go to boff around school, anyhow?"
Oliver shrugged and grinned as he stared off across the grounds. "Dunno," he
said mildly. "I don't boff here."
For that, Angie shoved him. Hard. "Smug git," she laughed. "You do now."
Oliver laughed as he stumbled a bit. "Once, anyway," he agreed. "I'll figure it
out."
~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Oliver laid out the blanket he'd brought and smoothed it nervously. There were
rocks and twigs here under the stands, and after staring at the bumps under the
blanket for several seconds Oliver cast a cushioning charm, smiling in
satisfaction as the blanket lifted slightly and smoothed out over the
cushioning.
He was ready, and now there was nothing to do but wait for Angie. Rubbing his
hands together nervously, he began to pace.
Hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt, Angie darted a nervous glance about
before sneaking under the stands. Most everyone who would know to look for them
was off in Hogsmeade , and there wasn't anyone else about to see now as she
crept forward, determination and sheer nerves the only thing keeping her
upright. When Angie saw Oliver pacing, waiting for her, she almost turned
around and ran all the way back to the tower; this was insane, she didn't even
like Oliver this way, what if he was wrong and Bill got angry with him for
this? Angie thought Bill was a total arse for some of the things he said and
did to Oliver, but her best friend still loved that arse.
"You sure?" she asked from behind Oliver, not bothering with a hello. "You look
more nervous than I am."
Oliver spun around at the sound of Angie's voice and managed a smile. "I
probably am more nervous, what if I hurt you or do it wrong and you hate sex
forever?" He walked toward her and stopped in front of her, studying her face
for a moment before pulling her into a hug. "Are you sure?"
Angie managed a small smile and hugged him back. "I don't want to be afraid of
it anymore, you know?" she said, and then laughed nervously. "Besides, I trust
you. If you fuck it up, it won't be on purpose."
"Thanks, I think," Oliver said, laughing. He sobered and cupped her face in
both hands, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. "You're very beautiful,"
he said seriously. "I'm so glad that you trust me, so very glad you're my
friend." And then to distract them both from how very much she meant to him and
how afraid he was of ruining things, Oliver bent and lightly pressed his lips
to hers, kissing her the way Bill had kissed him in the rare soft and tender
moments that freaked Bill after.
Hands resting on Oliver's chest, Angie slowly relaxed into the kiss. It was
nice, sweet; most boys tried to devour her from the mouth out, and it was off-
putting at best. But this was different, and Angie smiled more easily as she
pulled back, fingers tentatively brushing Oliver's jaw. "I took care of the
charms earlier," she said, eyes darting away in embarrassment. Then she looked
back up at him, concern in her dark eyes. "You're sure? We could always..."
Oliver nodded, blushing as he realised what charms she meant and that he should
have thought of it first. "Sorry," he whispered, blush darkening. "I, er, we
don't have to worry about that, with Bill." He took her hand in his, suddenly
terribly aware of how much smaller her hand was than his, and led her to the
blanket he'd laid out. Guiding her down, he sat next to her and brushed her
hair back behind one ear again. He grinned. "Let's agree that we're both sure
and stop asking each other, or else we'll talk each other out of it before we
even get started."
"Like you've ever changed your mind once you're decided on sex," Angie teased,
scooting closer. She took a deep breath, bolstered her courage and curled her
hand behind his neck. "Just... go easy. Slow, because..." She swallowed and
shrugged. "Let's just do this, okay?"
"Okay," Oliver said. He leaned forward, easing her down flat on the blanket as
he kissed her again. "I might change my mind about sex," he said softly,
laughter lurking in his voice. "After all, you aren't a tall lanky redhead with
freckles. And you have breasts." He propped himself on one elbow and began
opening her shirt with the other hand. "Right here, in fact," he continued,
sliding his fingers under the fabric and over her bra.
Laughing breathlessly, Angie covered Oliver's hand with her own, pressing it
closer to the soft curve of her lace-covered breast. This, she could handle.
This she knew. "Yeah, well, you're not a tall redhead, either." She stuck her
tongue out at him. "Reckon we should just make the best of what we've got,
yeah?"
"Reckon so," Oliver said. He lightly squeezed her breast, tentatively learning
the shape and feel of the soft full flesh under his hand. It was...
interesting. Different. The lace was distracting, though. Oliver let go of her
breast so he could finish opening her shirt and push it out of his way. He
studied the way the bra looked, black against her dark skin, and trailed his
fingers along the edge of the lace. Even tan, his fingers looked so pale
compared to her skin. "You'll have to tell me what you like," he whispered,
hooking his fingers under the edge of the lace and rubbing his nails against
her. "I don't know this part."
Angie's breath caught softly, and she reached out, pushing her hand under
Oliver's jumper, eyebrows raising when she felt his stomach. "Nice, Wood," she
teased. Hand moving up his side and to the small of his back, Angie tugged.
"Just... kiss me?"
Nodding, Oliver bent and kissed her again, teasing her lips open and easing his
tongue between them. He made a small sound and deepened the kiss, fingers
curling into the lace and lightly tugging. This was nice, he thought. She
didn't taste the same, her mouth was smaller, her tongue smaller, her teeth
more delicate. Her hand on his back felt good and it felt good to kiss her and
he began to think that he was going to actually be able to do this after all.
It wasn't the hot consuming rush he felt with Bill, but it was nice.
Abdomen fluttering, Angie reached up with her free hand and released the front
clasp of her bra. She bent her leg, her skirt sliding up her bare thigh and
rubbed her hand in small circles on Oliver's back to keep from shaking. They
were going to do this. Angie was finally going to be Not A Virgin Anymore, and
it made her stomach clench with something akin to nausea, but she wasn't going
to let Oliver know. Knowing him, he'd think he was doing her a real favour by
stopping.
Oliver felt her open her bra and broke the kiss, curious. He'd never seen live
breasts before, not that he'd wanted to, but now they were here he wasn't going
to pass up the opportunity. He brushed the lace away and looked. Full and
round, they weren't huge, but her nipples were certainly larger and darker than
Bill's were. Tentatively he rubbed one with one finger, grinning as the flesh
tightened and puckered. "You like that," he said, and did the same to the other
one.
"Bet you do too," Angie said, pushing up on Oliver's jumper. "Come on, then.
It's not fun if I just lie here like a Potions experiment for you."
Sitting up, Oliver tugged the jumper off over his head and then lay back down
next to her. "You're not a Potions experiment," he said, laughing. "Not a
Charms one either." He sobered a little then, and said, "This is your thing,
Angie, you don't have to... " His voice trailed off and he shrugged.
"I was only thinking that..." She trailed off and sat up abruptly, releasing
the fastenings of her skirt. "The wool's scratchy, is all," she finally
finished, pushing the skirt down her long legs , kicking off her shoes and
shrugging off her blouse and bra. All she wore now as a pair of simple white
cotton knickers, and she met Oliver's eyes defiantly as she stretched back out.
"Let's just get on with it," she said. "I know it's not really your thing, and
I don't want to make you regret doing this for me."
"S'not what I meant, Angie, I'm sorry." Oliver sighed. "I knew I'd fuck this
up." He sat back and started opening his jeans, watching his hands instead of
looking at her.
Jaw set, Angie crossed her arms and stared resolutely up at the stands,
blinking rapidly. She would not cry. Not. Just because he'd kissed her, and
he'd been so much sweeter than he'd had any business being, even if he was
Oliver, it didn't mean that there was going to be any kind of romance. She'd
been stupid to think there would be, and she should just be grateful that he
was doing this at all, and making it easy, keeping things at a slow pace with
the kissing. If it was anyone else, he'd probably just be humping her by now,
instead of trying to make it nice.
"I just..." she said in a broken voice. "I just thought I should do something.
That's what you do, right? It's what makes it nice?" She sighed and closed her
eyes. "Romantic. It makes it romantic, and I'm a bloody idiot."
"No, Angie, you're not," Oliver said, abandoning the jeans open but still on
his hips. He leaned over her to kiss her again, resting one hand on her stomach
and slowly stroking. "You can, if you want," he murmured between kisses, trying
to make it up to her. "You're right, it's what you do. Sometimes it makes it
romantic, but it's always what you do. I just didn't want you to think you had
to. I'm the idiot."
Slowly he slid his hand up and covered her bare breast, catching her nipple in
the crook of his thumb and lightly squeezing. "Do what you want to do," Oliver
said, "not what you think you should do."
Angie caught her upper lip between sharp, white teeth. "That... I do like
that," she confessed softly, and then turned to face him, looking at his chest,
at his open jeans and the waistband of his pants peaking out. "I've never
really touched a boy without clothes in the way. Much less there. What if I
fuck up?" Her tone was serious, but the corners of her mouth still twitched
One corner of Oliver's mouth kicked up as he said, voice just as serious, "You
should practise." He lay back on the blanket, legs relaxed and open, arms
tucked behind his head. "You definitely don't want to fuck that up."
"Absolutely," she said, kneeling next to Oliver, experimentally running her
hands up his chest, fingers brushing over the stone pendant he wore. It was
new, but Angie shrugged it off and moved down to start tugging on Oliver's
jeans, pulling them down and carefully leaving his pants on. Just for now, she
promised. Just until she was completely ready. She had to pull off Oliver's
trainers, but felt silly fussing with his socks, so those stayed on along with
his pants as she moved back up, bit her lip, and straddled his hips, grinning
down at him uncertainly as she settled. "Is this..." she asked, hands lightly
brushing his stomach, "is this okay?"
"Yeah," Oliver said, breath hissing in as his stomach contracted. She was a
warm weight over his groin and he could feel himself stirring, cock responding
to the heat of her body and the touch of her hands.
Angie smiled and leaned forward, touching more confidently. Her dark hands
stood out vividly against Oliver's chest, and Angie couldn't help but wonder
what freckles would be like added to the mix. Feeling a bit badly for thinking
about someone else, Angie looked up at Oliver, only to realise that it might be
easier for him if they were both doing just that. "I always wondered," she
said, circling one of Oliver's nipples with her fingertip, the pale white
crescent of her nail scratching him lightly, "if Weasleys really did have
freckles all over."
Oliver grinned up at her even as his breath caught. "Yeah," he said again, eyes
dancing. "They really do. All over." He freed one hand from behind his head and
curved it over her ribs, slid it down to her hip. His smile softened and he
said quietly, "Bill has a bunch by his hip, here," and he rubbed his thumb just
inside her hipbone, "that looks like a crown."
"Oh?" Angie's voice was a bit breathy as she rocked back away from the
strangely hot touch of Oliver's thumb, only to push back into it right after.
She leaned forward and kissed him, trying to hide her reaction to being
touched, since she was fairly sure that 'I wasn't expecting that' was enough to
explain her over-reacting to a simple touch. It was as though everything was
magnified, though, and she gave a soft noise when her breasts pressed against
Oliver as she kissed him slowly.
"Mmm," Oliver said into the kiss. He could feel her breasts on his chest, her
nipples hard against him. His hand crept up her side slowly until his thumb
rubbed against the side of her breast. He deepened the kiss and added his
tongue as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.
Angie squirmed, warmth slowly spreading through her despite her nerves. The
thrill of a boy (even if it was Oliver) pressed to her, skin sliding against
skin, was so deliciously forbidden that it robbed her of her breath, and Angie
sank into the kiss. Sucking on Oliver's tongue, because she knew that was good,
she pulled back, drawing Oliver with her until she released his mouth with a
wet noise. "Have you ever," she paused, swallowing heavily at the picture in
her head, not sure that now was a good idea to tell her best friend she thought
the idea of him with his boyfriend was hot. "Have you ever... t-t-topped?"
Oliver felt dazed with the slow spread of pleasure through him, surprised that
Angie could make him feel this way. She was a girl. "Um," he said, eyes on her
mouth, "no." His gaze lifted to hers and he grinned. "I'd've told you." He sat
up, adjusting her on his lap and tangling one hand in her hair. "Suck on my
tongue again," he murmured, and kissed her, harder this time than before. His
other hand smoothed down her back and cupped her arse through her knickers. His
fingers hesitated over her crease before moving lower, further between her legs
to rub her through the white cotton. It was damp and he paused, and then rubbed
again more slowly.
Gasping softly, Angie froze at the touch, and then rocked back against Oliver's
hand almost hesitantly. At the same time, though, she sucked hard on his
tongue, letting him know it was good. Very good. No one but Angie had ever
touched down there like this, and she reached around slowly, wrapping her
slender fingers around Oliver's wrist, encouraging him to go further.
Encouraged, Oliver rubbed harder but just as slowly, a strangled sound caught
in his throat as she sucked on his tongue. He decided her knickers were in the
way and curled his fingers under, tugging them to the side so he could touch
her skin, so his fingers could probe further. "You're wet," he murmured when
her gasp freed his mouth. It was... different. He found her entrance and slid
one finger easily inside.
"Happens," Angie whispered. Her mouth hung open and even still she seemed to be
having trouble keeping her breath. "That's..." she trailed off, not sure how to
describe how different it was, how much better it was than when she'd do it to
herself. She swallowed and lowered her head to Oliver's shoulder, kissing his
neck. "Different."
Oliver laughed softly as he nuzzled her hair. "Yeah," he agreed. "Different."
The hand in her hair cradled her head as he set her back down on the blanket.
He eased his finger free of her body and then quickly tugged her knickers down
and off, out of the way. "Tell me if it hurts, or, or anything," he finished
lamely. He settled himself alongside her, kissing her lightly as his fingers
went back between her legs. "Or if you want more," he grinned against her lips.
Slowly he entered her again with one finger, sliding it almost all the way out
again and then pushing in with two.
"Oh!" Back arching, Angie cried out softly against Oliver's mouth. Her hands
flailed out, one fisting in the blanket and the other trailing shakily down
Oliver's chest, curling around the waist of his pants. Tugging on the pants,
clumsily trying to pull them out of the way, Angie lifted her head and kissed
Oliver back harder. She could feel tension coiling slowly through her, deeper
and more intense than any of the times she explored and pleased herself, and it
frightened her in a delicious sort of way. She had vague thoughts of showing
Oliver that he could make her feel this way without his fingers inside, but
that would have meant stopping him from doing what he was doing now, and there
was no way she was going to do that unless it was to get something more. "Oh.
That's..."
"I know," Oliver crooned into her mouth and kissed her again and again as he
moved his fingers in and out. He couldn't quite get his fingers all the way in
before hitting something inside her, and he thought vaguely that maybe his cock
wouldn't fit either, but other men had sex with other women all the time so it
should work. Right?
The thoughts drifted away as Angie shifted under him and he smiled a bit
smugly. He remembered how Bill had made him feel this way, how it was wonderful
and scary all at once. "It's okay, Angie," he whispered, and kissed her again.
She was really wet now; he could hear his fingers moving in and out and his
thumb slipped in her juices, sliding away from where his fingers opened her,
moving roughly over a hard bump toward the top of her lower lips.
Angie bucked hard under his hand, eyes going wide in surprise. "Do... do that
again," she gasped. "Please?"
"What?" Oliver said, eyes as wide as Angie's. He'd certainly done something
right. "This?" He dragged his thumb over that bump again. It had to be that,
and he did it a third time. She squeezed his fingers as she jerked into the
touch and Oliver grinned. This was fun, making her come apart.
"Yes," she hissed. "That." Her flailing hand brushed against him, warm and firm
under the thin cotton of his pants, and she turned her wrist, cupping slim and
strong fingers around his length. Angie squeezed him experimentally, surprised
and relieved that he was affected, too. "Is this..." she panted softly, licking
her lips and moaning, "Is this okay?"
Oliver gasped when she squeezed him, eyes closing briefly. "Yeah," he said,
voice rough, "s'okay." He bent his head to rest his forehead on her shoulder
and moaned softly. Apparently his cock didn't care if it were a girl's hand on
it instead of a boy's, it just liked to be touched. He felt a small rush of
pleasure through his stomach, felt his cock get harder. It made him a little
dizzy. "It's good."
He kissed her chest and then moved down, trailing a path of kisses to her
nipple. He figured that if he liked that sort of thing she would too, and took
the hardened flesh into his mouth.
"Sweet Merlin," Angie breathed, pushing up to encourage him to do that more. At
the same time, she squeezed him harder, rubbing as she tried to find what he
liked, tried to make Oliver moan again, because that sound made the heat in her
belly grow, made her skin feel tighter. She wanted more, as though there was
something she was supposed to be going for, but even in her own explorations,
Angie had never felt this amazingly good before. There must be something more
than just the actual sex, she reasoned. Something she needed, even if the wild
unknown scared her. "I... Oliver?"
"Angie," he whispered back, letting her nipple pop from his mouth and kissing
back up to her lips. Oliver kissed her harder than before, fingers moving
faster in and out of her body. He pressed his thumb against that bump that had
made her jerk so hard before. He moaned again as she rubbed him through his
pants, wanting her hand on his bare flesh but not willing to give up what she
was doing long enough to take them off.
"I feel so..." Whimpering, Angie opened her mouth and sucked Oliver's tongue in
again. She felt absolutely brilliant, almost better than when she was flying,
and she wanted Oliver to be feeling the same, too. So she wiggled her hand up
and under the waist of Oliver's boxers, the quidditch-roughened pads of her
fingers tangling in the tight curls around his groin before she wrapped
hesitant fingers around his length, hot and hard and oh god how was that going
to fit inside her when she could feel the fullness from his fingers even now?
Oliver cried out. "Yes, oh god," he panted. He could feel the calluses on her
fingers, and it added extra sensation to her touch. "Angie." He kissed down her
throat again, sucked at her nipple again. It felt so good to have her hand on
him. "Tighter, Ang," he begged.
Angie gasped, her body tingling as she tightened her hand around him, stroked
him slowly and learned the feel against her palm. Her own hips were rolling
against Oliver's hand and her back was bowed as she pushed her breasts up for
more attention, the blood roaring in her ears as she dimly thought that this
must be what the beginnings of a real orgasm felt like. "Oliver... I'm... is
it... Sweet Merlin!"
"Wait, Angie," Oliver gasped. Did he have to be in her when she came? God, he
didn't know how to do this, he should have asked the twins. Or Bill, although
Bill probably didn't know either. He pulled away and fumbled his pants off and
then settled himself between her legs. "Wait," he said again, and guided
himself to her entrance with shaking hands. "Um. Put your legs around me," he
said, as started to push in. He did that with Bill, probably she should do it
too. He reached down to help, lifting one leg up around his hip, and then
pushed in a little further.
Oh god, oh god. Angie was reeling, dizzy from being so close and then having
Oliver stop so suddenly. And he was right there, already sliding in, and Angie
knew it was going to hurt, maybe even a lot, and the nerves were starting to
get hold of her, so she just wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms
around his torso. "Hurry," she breathed, and bit her lip with a small whimper.
It wasn't working. She was so tight. Oliver pulled mostly out and tried again,
curving his hands around her hips to hold her steady as he pushed harder. He
felt something give and then suddenly he was in, all the way, and he stopped
moving once he was fully inside, panting. "Angie," he whispered, kissing her
neck. "Okay?"
"Yes," she said in a watery voice. Swallowing hard, Angie tightened her arms
and legs around Oliver, holding him in place. "It just... it stings." It had
done more than just sting at first, not that she'd tell him that now. There was
a dull throb between her legs, mixing with the heat that had been filling her
only moments earlier, and Angie was determined they'd finish. That she'd get
more of that feeling before it was all over. "Just... go slow for a bit, yeah?"
"Yeah," Oliver whispered. He didn't move yet, instead kissing slowly up her
neck to her ear. He nipped at her earlobe then kissed along her jaw before
capturing her lips, keeping the kiss slow but being thorough about it. "I'm
sorry," he murmured into her mouth. Was it supposed to hurt? Maybe. His first
time had, a little. More than a little, maybe, but it had certainly been worth
it. He stroked one hand along her side soothingly. "I didn't want to hurt you."
Oliver could feel her relax by small increments under him, felt her relax
around him and then she squeezed him. She was already snug around him, warm and
wet, and he felt his eyes cross as her muscles rippled around him. "Oh," he
gasped, and his hand tightened on her ribs as he kissed her a little harder.
Angie tried to tighten herself around the intrusion again, but couldn't quite
get it right. "Supposed to hurt," she breathed, kissing back. But it didn't
hurt nearly as much now, and he was starting to feel good inside her, and Angie
wanted more. "Oliver... move. Please?"
Oliver moved. Slowly, he slid partly out and then just as slowly pushed in.
"Like that?" he asked, only half teasing her.
"Like I'm some sort of expert?" Angie asked. She'd have rolled her eyes, but
they were already closed. Instead, she opened them and looked up at the
uncertainty in Oliver's eyes. "Just... do what you like?"
Oliver smiled down at her. "Sometimes I like fast and hard and sometimes slow
and steady." He didn't mention that what he liked was to be in her position. He
started to move in a slow and steady pace. Probably she wasn't up to fast and
hard right now. "Move with me," he murmured and kissed her again. His hand
crept up her side to cover her breast.
She was very soft, very not like Bill, and Oliver wondered if it felt this good
to Bill when he was inside Oliver. He also wondered, for the first time, if
Bill ever wanted Oliver inside him. Then Angie lifted into his next thrust,
squeezed around him again, and Oliver momentarily stopped thinking at all. God,
that felt good, and Oliver moaned. This sex with girls wasn't, honestly, a bad
thing.
Angie moved slowly with Oliver, the ache of her broken virginity fading beneath
the alien sensation of another person inside of her. He was filling her,
stroking her from within, and the knot of tension that had nothing to do with
nerves was growing again, spreading with each careful thrust, and Angie moaned
throatily, trying again to intentionally tighten around Oliver, succeeding as
she lifted her hips. She gasped, mouth open and against Oliver's, and squeezed
again, tingles shooting throughout her body. "Feels... it feels so good," she
finally managed in a surprised whisper.
Oliver had to laugh. "It's supposed to," he said softly. "Otherwise no one
would ever do it twice." He reached down to lift her leg a little higher around
his waist and said, "Tell me if it's too much, yeah?" He really had no idea how
this worked for girls. He started moving faster, not a lot, but noticeably, and
the thrusts became a little harder as well. Oliver was trying to keep it easy,
trying so hard not to hurt her again, but he was getting caught up in the
pleasure, the need to come slowly creeping up his spine. It really did feel
good, and she was doing something that squeezed him inside her and made his
breath stutter through a moan. "God, Angie," Oliver whispered. His head fell to
her shoulder.
The sound of Oliver's moan somehow made Angie's pleasure multiply. It was
intoxicating, this powerful feeling of knowing she was making someone else feel
just that good. She moaned and squeezed him again, and he thrust a bit harder
in return, and the world froze for a moment as she gasped, suspended in the
sudden shock of pleasure that made her thighs tremble. "Oliver!" she cried out.
"Do that again. Hard, please?"
"Yeah." The word came out on a low keening sound and Oliver let himself thrust
harder. It was so good, so bloody fucking good; that familiar brainless rush
was spreading through him and he had to move faster, thrust harder, he couldn't
help it. It wasn't as intense as when Bill was fucking him, but very nearly.
Oliver grit his teeth and held on desperately. "Angie," he moaned again. Please
come, please.
Angie shuddered, her entire body thrumming, nearly over-flowing with sensation.
Going on instinct, she unwound an arm and slid her hand down, fingers tangling
in her own curls, seeking that firm bundle of nerves. Her fingers slipped,
brushing against Oliver as he sank into her again and again, and then back up
she went, circling, curling, tugging, and she was close. She had to be, she
must be, because she hadn't thought she was going to feel this good, but she
did now, and her body was tensing, her muscles clenching harder around Oliver.
She wondered if it felt this good to Oliver when Bill was doing the work, and
Angie moaned, louder this time as that picture pushed her over the edge.
Gasping, tensed, her back bowed, Angie came without a sound, the seconds
dragging on into a long, perfect moment. The fingers on Oliver's back spread
and then curled, her small crescent-shaped nails digging into his skin as her
toes curled too, and then the air slammed back into her body, and all she could
do was gasp, her body as light as a feather as she floated in bliss.
"Holy fuck!" Oliver went blind with the pleasure that rushed through him as her
body spasmed around him, on him so tightly he had to work to force himself into
her again and again but he had no other choice. His body was in control now,
his mind gone, and it only took a few more thrusts before he was spilling
inside her, his entire frame shaking with orgasm. He collapsed bonelessly on
top of Angie, shivers still running through him.
After struggling to breathe for several seconds, Angie finally thought to shove
at Oliver. "Move," she panted, finally dislodging him enough for her lungs to
work. That was good enough, and she flopped back, chest heaving as she stared
up at the stands. Angie felt a broad grin stretch across her face, and only
grinned more for it. "Bloody wicked," she said, turning to look at Oliver.
"I told you," Oliver said as smugly as he could while still panting. He'd never
tell her, but he hadn't honestly thought he'd be able to do it right, that the
fact that she was a girl would prevent him from getting hard at all, much less
coming so spectacularly. Oliver moved the rest of the way off her, curling next
to her on his side. He rested one hand on her stomach and smiled at her. "I'd
also have told you the twins switch on girls if you'd said they'd been sniffing
around you." Oliver frowned briefly. "They'd better not hurt you," he added
gruffly.
"They kiss differently," she said with a shrug. "But you'll be more than
welcome to what's left if either one pulls any funny business. Do you suppose
it would be wrong of me to date them both?" Suddenly realising how tacky that
was, considering what they'd just done, Angie looked away, her skin heating
with embarrassment. "Thank you, by the way," she added softly.
Oliver grinned and slid his hand up the center of her body and cupped her
cheek. "You're welcome," he murmured, turning her face back to his and leaning
in for a soft kiss. "I don't think it would be wrong, as long as all three of
you know you know it's all three. Er, both of them." He laughed sheepishly.
"You know what I mean."
Angie laughed. "Yeah, I know." She leaned back and looked up at him.
Physically, Angie felt different, and not just from the slowly returning
soreness. But somehow, when she looked at Oliver, she felt like she had before
she'd ever even thought of asking him for this. She felt like there ought to be
more there. Her mum was always on about being in love first, after all. And
here Angie'd gone and done it this way, but at least it was with the one person
she trusted the most in the world, so maybe, in a way, she'd actually listened.
"You're the best best mate," Angie said. "Hands down."
Oliver didn't know what to say to that, and he could feel colour creeping into
his cheeks, so he kissed her again and hoped she wouldn't notice. "I don't know
about that," he finally said, "I'm just glad I did it okay." He sat up, curling
his legs tailor fashion and resting his forearms on his shins. Belatedly
realising he felt... sticky, he cast a cleaning charm on himself and then did
one on her just in case. Oliver didn't know if she needed it since it was all
inside for girls, but figured it couldn't hurt. "How do you feel?" he asked.
Feeling odd, stretched out and exposed now, Angie sat up too, copying Oliver's
pose. "Sore," she replied honestly. "But brilliant, too." She grabbed her bra
and put it on, leaving the rest for later.
Oliver nodded. He'd been sore too. With a wry smile he said, "Well, now you
know. I expect that since they kiss differently, the twins will have sex
differently too, though." Oliver scratched his head absently. He'd only had sex
with Bill and now Angie, and their differences were obvious. He suddenly
realised that Bill probably had a point about him having sex with other men,
but he still didn't want to. Shaking off the thought, Oliver reached for his
pants and tugged them on. Not looking at her, Oliver said, "I love you, Angie.
You're the best friend I've ever had." He shot her a shy awkward smile and then
grabbed his jeans, face bright red. And now that he'd said it he shouldn't ever
have to say it again. But he wanted her to know.
"I love you too," Angie said, covering his hand and scooting over next to him
so she could hug Oliver, her head on his shoulder. Warmth and sappy emotions
blossomed in her chest and Angie couldn't help but sigh forlornly. "It's just
too bad you're so ridiculously queer and in love with that twat Weasley , or
I'd ask you out or something." She paused, thinking about it more. "And then
there's the fact that it would probably ruin everything for us. That's enough
reason, really. Just do us a favour and keep those kisses of yours off my lips,
yeah?"
With a smirk Oliver bent and kissed her square on the mouth, and then hugged
her close. "That's definitely enough reason," he agreed. He didn't know what
he'd do without her. "And Bill is not a twat." He lightly pinched her arm and
then pulled away to finish dressing again.
Angie snorted, but got dressed too. "He pushes you to sleep around, makes you
wait on whenever it's good for him to visit, and he still won't let you tell
anyone you're dating even though you're of age now. He's a twat, and he doesn't
deserve you." As she started buttoning her blouse, Angie looked at Oliver and
softened a bit, nudging him gently. "But you love him, so maybe that's enough
to change him."
Oliver twisted his hands together, hesitating, and then finally said roughly,
"I don't think it is." He dug the last owl Bill had sent out of the jeans
pocket where it had lived since arriving, unfolding it once again but instead
of reading over it, Oliver handed it to Angie.
There was a long pause as Angie read Bill's letter, twice, and then looked up
at him with a confused look. "Leave you like what?" she asked quietly, fingers
of her free hand reaching out and grabbing for her hurt friend. "What did that
wanker do to you, Oliver?"
Oliver shrugged carelessly, but his hand grabbed hers tightly and held on for
dear life. "He left," he whispered. "I woke up and he was gone." Oliver
swallowed hard and shrugged again. "I guess," Oliver cleared his throat, "I
guess he doesn't like to know I miss him. Or something."
When they had come back from their hols, Angie had noticed Oliver's foul mood,
and had asked him, quietly and quickly because there were too many people
about, "Bill?" Oliver had nodded, and Angie had let it drop, because she knew
how much it killed Oliver to say goodbye the few times Weasley had made an
appearance. But now she knew she'd made the right guess for the wrong reasons.
Slender arms wrapping around Oliver's waist, Angie just held him close, her
fledgling crush forgotten in the face of this new discovery. A part of her
suspected that Bill really had done this to avoid hurting Oliver, but she
wasn't going to say that. "I'm so sorry," she said instead, hugging him tight.
"He's a fucking idiot. And I'm going to kill him if I catch him."
Oliver's next breath caught on a sob and he grit his teeth to keep from crying,
arms wrapping around Angie and clinging. "I love him," he whispered forlornly,
"but maybe I should leave him alone. Since I'm a bad choice. I don't, heh,
don't want to hurt him."
"You're not a bad choice," Angie said fiercely, squeezing him. "You're not. The
only bad choice is him not loving you back like you deserve."
"He doesn't, does he?" Oliver laughed shortly, bitterly. "I thought he did. I
mean, his face... " Oliver's voice trailed off and he closed his eyes. "I don't
know what to do. I love him." He wanted to ask Angie why Bill didn't love him
back, but the words stuck in his throat. He'd really believed that what he'd
seen in Bill's eyes was love, truly love, but maybe it was just great sex.
"I've never loved anyone," she said, resting her cheek against his chest.
"But... but I think you're supposed to get over it. Love again, or something.
Besides, he can't be your soul mate or anything like that, and you know it.
Otherwise, he'd love you, too. He'd... he'd say he was sorry for hurting you.
That's what you need. Someone who actually acts like a boyfriend."
Oliver laughed again, painfully. He wanted to tell Angie that she wasn't
helping, but he couldn't. She was trying. Besides, she was right. Still, he
didn't think he'd ever get over it. "I don't ever want another boyfriend." He
bent his head, resting it on her shoulder. He hurt.
Angie just hugged him again before stepping back. "That's what all the girls
say when they get dumped. Right after they promise they're done with boys, and
right before you walk by and they forget all about it." She kissed him,
lightly, and pulled away, refolding Bill's letter and handing it back
carefully. There was so much pain in Oliver's eyes, and Angie ached for him,
wanted to run her fingers through his hair and kiss the hurt away, but she knew
instinctively that it wouldn't work like that. "And you're not a girl, but I
think you'll live just like they do."
"I'll live." Oliver took the letter and tucked it back into his pocket. He'd
live, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. And no matter what Angie said, Oliver
knew he'd love Bill for the rest of his life. He picked up the blanket and held
it under one arm, putting the other arm around Angie's shoulders as he started
back toward the castle.
At least now he could tell Bill he'd shagged someone his own age.
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