Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/279026.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Bill_Weasley/Oliver_Wood
  Character:
      Bill_Weasley, Oliver_Wood
  Additional Tags:
      Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Angst, Food_Kink
  Series:
      Part 7 of Past_Curfew
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-17 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 17931
****** Crash and Burn ******
by juice817, semaphoredrivethru
Summary
     Oliver gets a surprise visit while on spring holiday, becomes a
     wizard of age, and Bill is an asshole.
Notes
     first posted November 28, 2006.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter by semaphoredrivethru

Oliver shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and stared into the now empty
Floo. His mother had insisted he come home for spring hols, and then she had
taken his dad and left almost as soon as he'd arrived. He'd have thought it was
him if she weren't so enthusiastically glad to see him every time he came home.
He shrugged with a wry smile. Mum just liked to travel, and Dad liked to
indulge her. And now he was stuck here for a fortnight with strict instructions
to stay and relax. It would be nice to sleep in, at least. And he could fly as
much as he wanted on his Nimbus, all day long, even.
Speaking of his Nimbus... Oliver grinned, grabbing the broom and heading
outside. There wasn't any reason not to fly right now. He lost himself in the
rush of wind and the freedom of being able to go where and how he wanted,
flying so high the air was freezing and too thin for him to properly breathe
before taking a screaming dive and pulling up just in time to avoid a
spectacular crash. Laughing, he began to roll on the broom, and loop, and do
all the tricks he couldn't possibly do in front of the first years. He had no
idea how long he'd been flying when he realised an owl had been chasing after
him for several minutes.
"Sorry!" he gasped as he stopped abruptly. The owl circled around his head and
glared at him, and he laughed and apologized again. It landed on the handle of
his broom as he hovered and held out one leg. Oliver took the scroll tied
there. "Do you want treats? Horatio will share, Mum keeps a full tray in our
owlery." Oliver gestured at a small building off on the grounds and the owl
looked at it, glared at Oliver again, and then flew to the owlery, disappearing
inside.
Oliver shrugged and opened the scroll to see strong, familiar handwriting. He
smiled before he even started to read.

Oliver,
I'm sorry I haven't written back in weeks, but it seemed for a while there as
though all of the tombs in the area were meant to open right then, you know? I
even managed to break that one curse I was telling you about -- you remember?
With the creeping gangrene that you thought was gross? -- the other day. It's
been exciting around here, to say the least, and Nigel and I have been working
our narrow arses off. But I think it's paying off since the rumour mill's been
running lately, and there's been whispers of things like promotions and heading
our own teams. It's not remotely official, of course, but it's a nice thought,
you know?
But that's enough of my putting the chariot before the gryphon. How've you been
doing? By the time you get this, your spring hols should have started, and I
can fairly picture you working those on your team that stayed during the break
into the clouds with training. Well, I hope you're having fun with that, and I
know all the training will show when you lot play Hufflepuff next month.
Anyhow, I know I normally write more, but things are a bit mad still, and I
need to go back out into the field as soon as I post this. So then I'll just
close with a reminder not to be good, but rather not to get caught.
~Bill

Oliver read the letter again as he slowly drifted down, and then a third time
once he'd landed, his fingers drifting over the black ink briefly before he
stopped himself with a soft laugh. He walked the path the owl had flown,
opening the door to the writing room in the owlery and stepping inside. He took
a piece of parchment down off a shelf and sat at the small desk there to
answer.

Bill,
I was beginning to wonder if maybe you'd found a boyfriend since you can't talk
me into one. Or if maybe you'd been hurt and no one knew to tell me. I'm glad
it's just you're busy. I know you like your work a lot so that's good. A
promotion would be fantastic, but I think you'd miss working with Nigel.
Gangrene is still gross. I'm glad you broke it and no, I don't think I want the
details. It would put me off my dinner for sure.
Spring hols have started; just got home today actually. My team is very
relieved. My mum insisted that I come home for a couple of weeks to relax, and
then she and Dad left me here alone. It's very peaceful, and I have been flying
all day. Your owl had to chase me a bit, I don't think he liked that. Tomorrow
I'll sleep in a bit, and then maybe work on plays to teach the team when school
starts up again. It's nice not to have all of Gryffindor surrounding me all the
time, but I expect I'll be bored of the quiet by the time I can go back.
I know when you get this you'll be done with whatever you were doing instead of
writing more to me, but be careful anyway. Your job isn't really very safe, is
it? And I wouldn't know if something happened until Percy mentioned it or
something. Anyway.
And I never get caught.
Oliver

Bill's response was back in only three days. From the looks of his owl, which
seemed quite put out (yet pleased to not have to chase Oliver again), he'd
hardly given the poor bird any sort of rest before sending him back out again.

Oliver,
Most boyfriends, from what I've been told, wouldn't be nearly as understanding
as you are about certain things. Namely, my strange hobby of picking up school
boys, but also my going to the clubs with Nigel. I haven't been going lately,
though, but there's been a lot of reasons behind that, not the least of which
is work. And you're right, my work isn't all that safe, but it's brilliant,
challenging and fun, and I'm good at it. And, like I tell my mum, I'm always
careful... not, mind you, that she knows I'm only as careful as I need to be
and when it doesn't get in the way of my job. After all, if I don't do the
work, someone else would, and they probably won't be as good at it as I am.
And you can stop worrying, Ollie. Nigel knows to let you know along with a few
others if anything happens to me. He's my best mate, and that was actually his
tent I had when I came to visit you last time. He says I'm out of my bleeding
tree, but the thing about friends is that they love you even when you've gone
mad, you know? Also, while he's on the subject, Nigel's been bothering me to
ask you if you've got any friends to introduce him to. It's a long story, and
it involves a lot of alcohol, but let's just say that Nigel's hacked off that
I've got all the luck.
Anyhow, are you having plenty of wild parties with your parents gone? I hope
so; I always had a cadre of tattle-tales to watch over, so I never actually got
to enjoy being home alone. And are they gone the entire hols? Odd, that;
bringing you home and then leaving you be, but then we Weasleys have always
been a close bunch.
~Bill
PS: I've enclosed something I found in the market the other day. It's got no
special meanings or arcane magics behind it, but when I saw it, I was reminded
of quidditch somehow, so I thought I'd send it on to you. I hope you like it,
but even if you don't, that's fine too. It's just a bauble, regardless.

Oliver looked more closely at the stone pendant on its leather thong. He'd
looped it over his wrist in his hurry to read Bill's letter and now took the
time to study it. The carving was very well done, depicting a bird in flight in
such detail that Oliver half expected it to race right off the edge of the
stone circle. He smiled and rubbed his thumb over the image. Bill had sent him
a present. Oliver loosed the knot so he could put it around his neck, tying it
quickly and then trailing his fingers around the leather down to touch the
stone again.

Bill,
I do like the bird very much, I've been wearing it since the owl brought it.
Thank you! I sometimes feel like a bird racing through the clouds when I fly.
I'm free up there in ways I can't describe and have never felt anywhere else,
except when you touch me.
Anyway.
Tell Nigel I said thank you for the use of his tent, it was brilliant. Which I
suspect you've already told him, but tell him from me anyway. And somehow I
don't think Angie's his type. What about your brothers? I'd like to hear the
long story sometime. You are out of your tree, you know, but I don't mind at
all.
I'm not really the wild party type. I haven't actually said anything out loud
to anyone except your owl since Mum and Dad went. It's nice for the first few
days but it's starting to bother me some. I'll have to just wait it out because
yes, they're gone the entire hols and beyond, actually. Mum decides she wants
to be somewhere and they go. Their cruise won't be done until after I go back
to school so I'm just staying here. Not that I'd have gone anyway, I don't
think. They like to go alone. I don't really mind. I'm glad they like to be
together. They love each other very much.
I think you should be more careful than just as much as you need to be, and
that I won't stop worrying quite yet. But thank you. I'm glad Nigel knows about
us and would tell me. I like him.
Oliver
~*~*~*~
It was three days before Bill could manage to put everything in enough order to
dump all of their work in Nigel's lap, but knowing how he was going to spend
the next week was well worth the smug grin and sly comments from his friend.
Granted, Bill knew that after his impromptu holiday there would probably be
another one of those uncomfortable conversations where he and Nigel pretended
they weren't talking about how severely fucked Bill was, but as Bill walked up
the path to the large country house not far from the English border, he
reckoned it was worth it. Instead of knocking, Bill hefted his broom over his
shoulder and ambled around to the back of the house, knowing that on a clear
bright morning like this, Oliver would like as not already be out and flying.
As he came around the back of the house, Bill looked up, squinting in the
sunlight, and saw a figure, dark against the blue sky and pulling off stunts
that Bill knew they didn't teach at Hogwarts. Grinning at both Oliver's antics
and at how surprised he was going to be, Bill set his bag on the ground,
mounted up and took off, aiming for Oliver and knowing he didn't have a chance
of actually catching him.
Oliver started a lazy spiral up, the circles interrupted by occasional loops
and dives, working his way higher and higher in the sky. He laid himself flat
in preparation for what would be a truly spectacular dive when he saw something
from the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look and nearly fell off his
broom. "Bill!" he said, face lighting up. He went ahead with his dive, changing
trajectory and heading straight for Bill. "Bill!"
Bill laughed as Oliver made a beeline for him, and for a moment entertained the
ridiculous image of Oliver flying directly into his arms. But logic prevailed
and Bill just settled for looking at Oliver warmly; Bill wasn't the weakest
flier, but he certainly wasn't anywhere near Oliver's league, and crashing the
both of them would be a bad way to start their visit.
"Hello there, gorgeous!" he called, brushing his long hair out of his face.
He'd tied it back, but the wind obviously had other plans.
Oliver managed, barely, to not fly directly into Bill but stopped instead right
next to him. "Hi," he said lamely, fingers twitching until he reached out and
tucked Bill's hair behind one ear. His fingertips trailed along Bill's cheek
and over his lips. "I didn't know you were coming."
"Surprise?" Bill laughed, grinning as he turned to kiss Oliver's fingers. Eyes
lingering on Oliver's mouth, Bill kissed his own fingers instead and pressed
them against those tempting lips. "I just wanted to let you know I was here.
You go on and enjoy your flight; I'm sure I've got a book in my bag to
entertain me."
"Whatever," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. He caught Bill's hand and held it at
his mouth, tongue flicking out over Bill's fingertips. "I've been flying for
days, and can fly again later. I'm so glad you're here." He laughed. "I want to
hug you, but I don't want to kill us."
Bill's eyes flashed when he felt Oliver's tongue. "Death would be inconvenient,
yes," he said, almost absently. "Maybe we should land, then?"
Oliver nodded and reluctantly let go of Bill's hand, and then flashed a quick
grin at Bill before dropping so quickly it was nearly a fall, Bill following at
a much more sedate and controlled pace. Oliver was nearly dancing by the time
Bill landed. As soon as he was off his broom, Oliver lunged at him, wrapping
himself around Bill in a tight clinging hug. "I missed you," he whispered into
Bill's hair. He closed his eyes and held on impossibly tighter. "Very much."
Arms snug about Oliver, Bill hugged back, the leather of his jacket creaking
softly. "You too," he murmured, tension draining from him.
"Really?" Oliver whispered. He felt Bill relax against him and smiled into the
crook of Bill's neck before making himself relax too, just enough to be able
kiss his way along Bill's jaw toward his mouth. Bill was really here, here, and
Oliver felt as if it had been years instead of weeks since Valentine's.
Bill turned his head and kissed the tip of Oliver's nose. "What do you think?"
he asked, and then slanted his mouth over Oliver's, tongue sliding into his
mouth, tasting him slowly, lazily. God, but he loved the way the kid tasted.
Hands drifting down, curving over Oliver's waist and bunching in his jumper,
Bill held Oliver close, their bodies fitting together just so.
Oliver hummed softly into the kiss, an open mouthed sound of both pleasure and
relief. His hands drifted down to squeeze Bill's arms and the leather creaked
again. He smiled as the kiss ended, and Oliver rested his forehead against
Bill's shoulder, content for the moment to just hold and be held. "How long can
you stay?" he asked softly.
"A week," Bill said, resting his cheek against Oliver's hair. He felt nice,
comfortable like this, and it took a lot more effort than he would have thought
to shake off the lazy feeling that his armful of Oliver gave him. "Hopefully
you'll let me get dressed this time," he added, grinning teasingly to cover up
his pleasure at the idea of spending seven full days hiding away like this.
"Oh, wow," Oliver said, overwhelmed at the thought. A week! "You're done with
your bank stuff, then? And they'll let you stay?" He rubbed his nose against
Bill's neck and sighed. "A week. Why would you want to get dressed?" Oliver
grinned.
"Nigel can handle it," Bill said with a grin. "And I fully plan on getting
dressed every time we leave your room, because there's no way I'm wandering
nude about the halls of my teenaged lover's parents' house. Speaking of," he
added quickly, "are you going to give me a tour, or just take me to bed so I
can do delightfully depraved things to you?"
"So let's just not leave my room," Oliver laughed, pressing a series of quick
kisses along Bill's jaw. He pecked Bill on the lips and then pulled away,
grabbing Bill's hand and tugging him toward the house. "I'll give you a tour,
if you want. But you have to promise to do depraved things to me after." He was
nearly bouncing, he was so excited. Bill was here, for a week.
Bill followed Oliver inside, barely slowing to scoop up his bag as they passed.
Once they were inside, shrouded in cool shadows and the silence of an empty
house, Bill tugged back on Oliver's hand, pulling him close again.
"The tour can wait," he murmured, cupping the side of Oliver's face, tilting
their heads, and fitting their mouths together in a long, deep kiss, groaning
as Oliver's lips parted eagerly.
Oliver pressed close to Bill, kissing him back as though he were the last glass
of water in the world and Oliver dying of thirst. He tasted so good, and Oliver
had missed that so much, missed the way Bill felt against him. Long, slow,
drugging kisses just for the sake of their mouths together, tongues tangling.
"I could kiss you forever," Oliver breathed, and dived back in.
Laughing softly, Bill kissed him back again, then pulled away with one more,
quick kiss. "I hope that's not all you plan on doing with me now, though," he
said, smirking as he teased Oliver, trying to break the sweetness of the moment
around them.
"Of course not," Oliver laughed. He threaded their fingers together as he toed
off his trainers, leaving them in the mud room automatically. Tugging Bill
behind him, Oliver made his way into the large comfortable kitchen. "I'm going
to take you flying, too."
Bill laughed again as he followed Oliver, but it was a slightly hollow sound;
he half-expected Oliver's mother to come around the corner and take him to task
for wearing his boots in the house. He looked around, back over his shoulder,
and shifted a bit as he leaned against a counter. "You're certain your parents
are gone for the week?" he asked, feeling younger than Oliver for even having
to ask the question. "Things could get... awkward, you know."
"Mmhmm," Oliver said absently. He was rooting through a cupboard. He didn't
know what he was looking for exactly, but expected he'd know if he found it. He
was hungry. "Mum said sorry for missing my, er, for making me make my own way
back to school." What she'd actually said was Happy birthday, darling! We're
taking a cruise for your birthday but it lasts longer than hols, so you'll have
to stay here. She'd actually teared up, which still made Oliver smile thinking
about it. He'd assured her it was fine, and convinced her he'd be seasick, even
though she knew he'd never been on a boat in his life. And it really was fine.
He hated making an issue of his birthday and had for years. And he'd rather fly
than sail any day. "They're in Cyprus today, I think. Or did they get to Italy
already?" He shrugged and moved to the icebox.
"Missing your what?" Bill asked, distracted momentarily from his own
discomfort. Oliver even mildly evasive was always a sign that Bill was missing
something good.
"My holiday," Oliver said, and leaned even further into the icebox. "Maybe we
should pop out for take away, are you hungry?"
"We can do that later." Bill grabbed Oliver by the hips and pulled him
backwards. "Have I ever mentioned that you're a bloody piss-poor liar, Ollie?"
"M'not lying!" Oliver said, even managing to sound indignant. Mostly. Oliver
let Bill pull him back, settling himself comfortably against Bill's body. He
threaded their fingers together again and wrapped their arms around his waist.
Bill shook his head, grinned and kissed the back of Oliver's neck. "Try again,
Ollie. I still don't believe you. Missing your what?"
Oliver sighed heavily. "My birthday," he mumbled almost inaudibly, head bent to
both obscure his words and so Bill could kiss him there again.
"Ha!" Bill crowed, and kissed down the curve of Oliver's neck. "So that makes
you, what? Four now?"
"Shut it, you," Oliver said grumpily, managing to free his arm enough to shove
his elbow back into Bill's stomach. Not hard, he didn't have the leverage or
the motivation, but hard enough. "Are you turning 70 on your next birthday?"
Bill huffed in only slightly mock-indignance. "Twenty-four, actually," he
sniffed, his long and clever fingers tickling along Oliver's sides for a
moment. "And that's not even until November, thanks so very much."
Oliver laughed and jerked under Bill's fingers. "Stop that," he said, still
laughing. "And I'll be seventeen. Four," he muttered in disgust, rolling his
eyes. "I thought we agreed you aren't a paedophile."
"What can I say," Bill said with a grin, wrapping his arms around Oliver's
waist, "I like them young." He nosed behind Oliver's ear, smelling grass and
sweat and broom oil, and smiled at how familiar it was already. "You should
shower if we're going to go out, even if it's just to pick up take-away. I
could even get your back for you."
"If you get my back for me," Oliver said dryly, "we won't ever go out." He
sighed and snuggled back into Bill's body, wrapping his arms over Bill's and
holding them close. "I'm so glad you came," he murmured.
Humming softly, Bill kissed Oliver's neck once more before stepping back and
breaking the warm spell around them. "Go on and shower by yourself," he said,
swatting Oliver's backside playfully. "I'll just find your room by myself while
I wait, and then we'll go get some food. Then I'll fuck you blind."
Oliver turned and pressed himself chest to chest against Bill. "Okay," he said
and kissed Bill again. He thought that maybe he'd rather skip lunch, but didn't
say anything. Bill knew how much he liked sex. And they did need food. He
grinned into the kiss. "You'll know it's my room 'cause you'll hear me in the
shower."
"Mmmm..." Bill said, leering as he followed Oliver. "Naked and soaped up
athlete. My favourite."
"No peeking," Oliver laughed at Bill over his shoulder as they left the
kitchen. "No dessert until after you eat your food." Oliver led the way through
a large, comfortable looking great room, muttering about the broom cleaning kit
he'd left in front of the stone fireplace, and then took Bill through the foyer
and up the wide staircase to the second floor. He turned right and began
tugging his jumper off over his head as they walked along the balcony. "I'll be
quick, I promise," he said, opening a door on their left.
His room was large, with clothes on the floor and a collection of toy brooms
and Quidditch balls mounted on one wall. There were the remains of a broom
forgotten in one corner. Oliver moved through the room heading for a door on
the opposite side. Pausing in the doorway he said, "Make yourself comfortable,
be right back," and disappeared, leaving the door open a crack behind him.
Grinning, Bill went to toss his bag in the corner, but stopped when he wasn't
sure if it was, well, safe to put his belongings on the floor. He hadn't
exactly been concerned with hygiene at Oliver's age, himself. Granted, he'd had
Charlie helping him with his efforts to breed new lifeforms... Deciding that
the bed would be the least-offensive spot, Bill put his bag there, shrugged off
his jacket, and leaned against the wall near the bathroom door. He felt
uncomfortable in his own skin, acutely aware that he didn't really belong here,
that Oliver should be visited by a kid his own age that would sneak in while
Mum and Dad were out of town.
But here he was, listening to Oliver in the shower and picturing him naked
under the spray. It was a rather nice picture, and Bill felt arousal slowly
coiling through his gut as he thought about how slick and smooth Oliver's skin
was in the shower. With a shake of his head, Bill decided that he was tired of
brooding. At least for now. Laughing at himself, he nudged open the door and
called out into the steam-filled room, "Hurry up, Ollie! I'm hungry and randy,
and it's not nice to deprive a growing boy."
"Done!" Oliver called. He'd probably missed several spots, but wasn't worried
about that at all. Bill was here. He turned off the water and haphazardly wiped
himself off with a towel before wrapping it around his waist and rubbing
another one over his head. He hung that towel around his neck and went to Bill,
unable to stay away. Grinning, he cupped Bill through his jeans and squeezed.
"You are growing, aren't you?" he laughed.
Bill covered Oliver's hand, pressing it closer with a leer. "What do you
think?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows and hooking the fingers of his other
hand around the towel and tugging.
"I think I may not get lunch today," Oliver said. He let Bill move him even
closer, using his free hand to tug Bill's white t-shirt from the waist of his
jeans. "Maybe you could fuck me blind first."
"Brilliant idea, that," Bill said, voice dropping as he tugged harder, pulling
the towel from Oliver's hips and dropping it on the floor. "We can always eat
later." Stepping closer, Bill slanted their mouths together and curved a hot,
heavy hand over Oliver's damp hip, fingers squeezing rhythmically.
Oliver squeezed Bill again and then shoved his hand up under the t-shirt,
moaning softly at the feel of warm skin under his palm. He fumbled with the
flies of Bill's jeans and finally - finally - got the jeans open so he could
shove his other hand down and cup Bill again without the barrier of fabric in
the way. His fingers curled around the hot hard flesh they found and stroked.
"Later," he agreed breathlessly and dove into another kiss, sucking Bill's
tongue as it slid into his mouth.
Growling, Bill backed up, pulling Oliver with him. Oliver's sure grip about his
cock, the way he was sucking Bill's tongue, it reminded Bill how long it had
been since they'd done this, which was too bloody long. Two months. Bill
groaned, one hand tight on Oliver's arse, the other cupping the back of his
head. "Bed," he managed, tearing his mouth away only to kiss down Oliver's bare
neck, lips sliding and tongue tasting the clean, warm water.
"Yes," Oliver whispered, head falling back and neck arching under Bill's mouth.
Reluctantly letting go of Bill's cock, Oliver quickly tugged the towel from his
neck, out of Bill's way, not ever wanting the press of lips and tongue to stop.
He dropped it to the floor as they walked forward, hands coming to rest on
Bill's hips to guide him as they moved toward his bed. "God, I missed you so
much."
When they reached the bed Oliver dropped to his knees, his hands shoving Bill's
jeans down just enough to free his cock. "Have I ever said how glad I am you
don't wear pants?" Oliver asked with a grin, and then he leaned forward and
sucked the head of Bill's cock into his mouth. His hands slowly slid the denim
down Bill's legs as he bobbed his head, taking all of Bill all the way in
before pulling back and doing it again and again with a moan.
Bill watched Oliver with hooded eyes, a low moan in his chest. His hands slid
over Oliver's shoulders and up his neck, carding through the short, dark
strands. "Ollie..." he breathed softly, voice praising. "That's it." He wanted
to pull Oliver up onto the bed, wanted to feel the naked slide of their skin
together, to hear all of those wonderful noises Oliver made. But more than
that, Bill needed this just now; the steady bob of Oliver's head, the small
pushes of Bill's hips to meet him closer. Bill moaned again, fingers
tightening.
Oliver groaned, letting the sound reverberate through his throat and mouth and
around Bill's cock. His hands crept back up to cup Bill's arse, squeezing,
encouraging Bill to fuck his mouth. He loved this, loved the feel of Bill
sliding over his tongue and into his throat, loved the way Bill tasted and
always would. The thought made him smile. Pulling back, Oliver let Bill slip
from his mouth and looked up into his face. "You're my favourite flavour,"
Oliver said softly, then took Bill into his mouth again.
"Glad to hear that," Bill said, laughing quietly. Oliver had discovered a real
talent for sucking Bill's cock, and Bill moaned again, thrusting a bit harder
between those soft lips, head falling back and eyes closing the rest of the
way.
Another rough needy sound, and Oliver opened his mouth wider, relaxing his
throat so Bill could thrust in harder. His hands rhythmically kneaded Bill's
perfect arse and he bobbed his head faster. As much as he wanted Bill to fuck
him, Oliver wanted Bill to come in his mouth even more. He let his fingers
creep inward, seeking Bill's entrance, humming in triumph around the thick
flesh in his mouth when he found the wrinkled hole.
Bill cried out, pushing harder into Oliver's mouth, his fingers clenching
briefly; god, but he loved having his arse played with. "Fuck," he panted.
"Yes." Bill tried to widen his stance, but his jeans about his ankles wouldn't
let him move far, so he just settled for groaning needily. "That's it. Suck me,
Ollie. Make me come."
Oliver pulled back so that only the round head was still in his mouth and
sucked hard, one finger probing into Bill's body as he did. Come, he thought
fiercely as he sucked. He tugged with the tip of his finger against the ring of
muscle guarding Bill's innermost flesh. Let me taste you.
Arse clenching, fingers gripping tightly, Bill gave a long, ragged moan as he
felt the need to come taking over. "It's... it's been too long, Ollie," he
ground out, lost in the feel, in how amazing even a simple blow job was when it
was someone who knew his body this well. The hair on his body prickled, and
Bill shuddered, so close he could almost grasp it.
Leaving his finger just inside Bill, Oliver cupped Bill's testicles in his
other hand. He let Bill slip from his mouth long enough to say, "I know," very
quietly. It had been, far too long, and Oliver needed this, needed the taste
and feel of Bill shooting down his throat. "Come. I want to drink it all." Then
he pressed his lips to the very tip and sucked delicately before opening his
mouth around Bill's cock, taking him all the way in and then swallowing as he
felt Bill hit the back of his throat.
That was it. Bill's toes curled, his hands flailed, grabbing at Oliver's
shoulders, and every muscle in Bill's body spasmed swiftly. He came, shooting
down Oliver's throat, and Bill could only twitch, giving Oliver what he -- what
they both -- wanted, moaning with pure pleasure. He shuddered, gasping as he
remembered to breathe again. "Fucking hell," he panted, body sagging in the
aftermath.
Grinning, Oliver licked Bill clean and then kept licking, tongue moving over
the softened length slowly before making his way up Bill's body, strong hands
supporting Bill until Oliver was standing and could wrap his arms around him,
leaning against Bill almost as much as he leaned against Oliver.
"I guess you won't be fucking me blind after all," Oliver murmured into Bill's
shoulder, lips twitching. He was hard as a rock but felt almost removed from
his own need, the taste of Bill's pleasure enough. For now. "The bed's right
behind you, if you need a nap." Oliver had to bite the inside of his cheek to
keep from snickering.
Bill snorted, albeit weakly. "Shut it, you," he grumbled, but grinned as he
said it. "Besides, how'm I supposed to get you off if I'm asleep?" He kissed
the side of Oliver's forehead and carefully untangled himself enough to pull
his shirt off and to bend over to remove his jeans and boots. "Bed's right
there if you want to get comfortable," he said, smirking up at Oliver.
Oliver's hands were coasting aimlessly over Bill's back, fingers tracing the
curve of his spine while he was bent over. "I'm comfortable," he said mildly,
but after bending himself to press a kiss to the centre of Bill's back, Oliver
pulled away and climbed onto the bed. Settling himself on the pillows, Oliver
put one hand behind his head and wrapped the other around his own cock, heavy
eyes watching Bill move. God, he was gorgeous.
"You're so gorgeous," Bill said, echoing Oliver's thought as he knelt between
Oliver's legs. He stilled Oliver's stroking hand briefly, bending to kiss the
head of his cock. Then, with heavy, sated eyes focused on Oliver's face, Bill
shimmied down, letting his feet hang over the edge of the bed, and hooked one
of Oliver's legs over his shoulder. "I love to watch you touch yourself," he
added, kissing slowly up the inside of Oliver's thigh.
Stretched out as best as he could manage on Oliver's bed, Bill cupped Oliver's
arse and lifted him. He nuzzled at Oliver's balls, kissing softly, teasingly,
working his way back to lick at the taut, sensitive patch of skin just behind.
"So fucking gorgeous," he murmured. "Can't get enough." Then he worked his way
ever further back, licking and pressing his tongue against Oliver's tight,
puckered entrance, his hands kneading and pulling at that amazing arse.
"Bill," Oliver said, voice tight with need. He tugged his upper lip between his
teeth, eyes so heavy now they were nearly shut. "So good." With a soft moan he
let his fingers play lightly over his cock, the shaft so sensitive and hard he
knew he'd come too soon with a heavier touch, and he wanted Bill's mouth on him
a little while longer. His head rolled on the pillow and he gave in, letting
his eyes close and his mouth open, breath and heart both moving faster. Need
built faster too, the lack of sight intensifying the feel of Bill's tongue as
it teased at his entrance.
Even though Oliver's shower had been quick, he was clean, and Bill hummed in
pleasure as he pushed with his tongue, worming his way into Oliver's body.
Bill's hands moved slowly over Oliver, up his sides, over his stomach,
caressing and soothing while exciting and pushing Oliver higher at the same
time. Pulling his tongue out, Bill traced the wrinkled flesh again before
diving back in, wanting to drive Oliver out of his mind as thoroughly and as
quickly as possible, wanting to make him come, to make him feel the same
blinding pleasure Bill himself had just been given.
Oliver writhed under Bill's mouth and hands, finally firmly grasping his own
cock and tugging. "It's so good," he moaned, "Bill, I can't - fuck. Please." It
had been so long, and making Bill come had felt so good, he'd tasted so good;
Oliver was flashing to desperate need so fast he was dizzy. He grit his teeth
and growled, not sure if he wanted to come and let the rush end yet, but
quickly reaching the point where he didn't have a choice. "So close."
"It's okay," Bill said, lifting his head and kissing Oliver's balls, the skin
tight with his impending orgasm. "I've got you, Ollie. Just let go." With one
more kiss, Bill covered Oliver's hand with his own, pumping with him, and
ducked down to push his tongue back into Oliver, fucking in and out with the
strong, wet muscle. Come for me.
With a sharply indrawn breath Oliver came, clamping down hard on Bill's tongue,
shooting spunk over his own chest and stomach and their hands. His body
stiffened and shook and his free hand reached for Bill, needing an anchor as
his world spun and exploded.
Bill caught Oliver's hand in a clumsy grip, his arm under one of Oliver's legs
and stretching across his stomach, hand squeezing firmly even as he kept
working Oliver through his orgasm. He licked and kissed his way up, back over
Oliver's balls, kissing where their come-splattered hands met, still wrapped
around Oliver's cock. Looking up, Bill couldn't help a small, almost soft smile
as he took in the gorgeous, lost expression on Oliver's face. God, but this kid
was amazing when he came.
"Bill," Oliver sighed, breath still shuddering on each inhalation, shivers
still moving through him. He hummed, a lazy sound of complete satisfaction, and
then said, "God, that felt good." He squeezed Bill's hand. "It's never as good
just doing it myself."
Laughing softly, Bill climbed up beside Oliver, curling close on the bed.
"That's very true," he said, kissing the side of Oliver's hand and nipping at
the first knuckle on his tanned index finger. "But it's still such a lovely
picture in my head."
Oliver grinned and curled into Bill, tangling their legs. "I'm sure I won't
stop," he murmured, "I have to do something between your trips to Scotland." He
leaned in to brush his lips lightly over Bill's. "Doesn't mean I wouldn't
rather come with your help."
Bill shook his head and grinned ruefully, but didn't point out that Oliver
didn't have to come on his own just because Bill wasn't around. He was too
relaxed to row just now, and the last thing either of them wanted was to spend
the week grumbling at each other. So he just laughed and kissed Oliver back,
knowing he couldn't avoid it for good. Not if Oliver was ever going to
understand. "Well, you know what they say," he murmured, nosing down Oliver's
neck, letting his long, tangled hair tickle slightly. "Seven out of ten
schoolboys prefer Weasley to wanking."
"Who says that?" Oliver laughed. "And which Weasley did those seven schoolboys
try? I'm fairly sure I'm the only schoolboy you're fucking." Oliver tilted his
head back, offering the length of his neck to Bill with an unconscious sound of
pleasure.
"You shouldn't jump to conclusions," Bill admonished gently, still nosing up
and down Oliver's neck. "Except you're right; you're my only barely-legal bed
mate currently."
Oliver fought to maintain the casual grin. "I didn't say 'only bloke', just
'only schoolboy'; I'm not stupid." Fuck, he thought tiredly. The idea of Bill
fucking another man - an older man - killed the last lingering buzz of pleasure
that had still been thrumming through him. A yawn caught him by surprise and
made him laugh in spite of everything. "Sorry," he said, still chuckling. "Are
you still hungry?"
"I can wait, if you're too worn out." Bill laughed as he lifted his head, and
kissed the tip of Oliver's nose with the lightest of touches.
With a shrug, Oliver tilted his head up to kiss Bill's chin. "I'll manage." He
reached down and let his fingers trail over Bill's cock. "I guess the real
question is, do you feel like getting dressed?"
"Not really," Bill admitted with a grin, tracing the leather thong around
Oliver's neck and smiling softly as he brushed his fingers over the stone
pendant. He'd put a location charm on the necklace so he could find Oliver's
home, and Bill probably ought to mention that at some point. "I'm rather
comfortable like this." He brushed Oliver's hand away, pulling him close and
ignoring the sticky mess between them.
Oliver wound himself around Bill, grimacing a little as they squished together.
He'd just showered, too. Grinning at the thought, Oliver nuzzled at Bill's
neck. "Let's just wait until dinner, then, and we can go to a restaurant or
something."
Bill hummed softly and kissed Oliver's hair. "Something," he agreed.
"So what'd they have you doing this time?" Oliver asked softly. He was
interested but more just wanted to feel Bill's voice rumble through them both
as they lay so close together. "I'm surprised they can spare you for the whole
week but I'm so glad."
For a moment, Bill debated letting Oliver think, again, that this was only a
side trip on a business trip. But it had been so long, and Bill was more than a
bit drowsy, so he just shook his head and yawned. "I left all my work in
Egypt," he said. "Took a few days' personal time and left Nigel to finish all
the reports on the work we've been doing past few weeks." Strangely enough, the
admission wasn't as difficult as he'd have thought it would be. He grinned
crookedly. "Had something I needed to do on my own time."
Oliver froze in place for what felt like ages but could only have been seconds
before he just literally melted from the inside out, body going boneless and
relaxing fully into Bill. "You came to see me." It wasn't a question, and
Oliver could feel how stupid the grin splitting his face was. He buried his
face in Bill's chest to hide it. Bill had come clear from Egypt just to be
here, with him.
It had been as simple as an international portkey and a quick Apparation and
nothing more to get here, but Bill could feel how giddy Oliver was. Grinning,
he gave Oliver a warm squeeze. "But if you've got plans for this week, I could
probably pop by the London offices and have them put me to work."
"No." Oliver pushed Bill flat onto his back and draped himself on top, pinning
Bill to the bed and grinning down at him. "I'll tie you to the bed if I have
to, but you aren't going anywhere near your offices. You're mine for the week."
"Not even for a few hours?" Bill teased.
Oliver shook his head slowly and deliberately relaxed, settling his full weight
on Bill. He smoothed his hands up Bill's ribs and then over his arms, guiding
them to rest on either side of Bill's head, hands cuffing his wrists and
pressing them into the mattress. "We have rope," Oliver said with a smirk,
although he honestly had no idea whether they did or not.
"Now that sounds promising." Bill curled his fingers and lifted his head,
kissing Oliver's nose and grinning. "But I have to tell you, Ollie, it's more
of an incentive to misbehave than anything else."
Sliding his own hands up over Bill's, Oliver threaded their fingers together
and leaned in to trail a line of kisses along Bill's jaw. "Not if I leave you
tied up alone somewhere." Oliver paused, realising that would be punishing
himself as well, and then grinned and bit Bill's earlobe. "Except I refuse to
do without sex now you're here, so never mind that. Speaking of..." Oliver let
his voice trail off deliberately and then rubbed himself against Bill's
stomach. "If you want food or a nap first, speak now or forever hold your
peace."
Bill laughed and squirmed under Oliver. "Have you got something in mind, then?"
he asked, grinning. "I thought you were hungry."
"I'm a growing boy," Oliver smirked, "I'm always hungry." Raising his eyebrow,
Oliver let the smirk widen. "Although I did quite recently have a protein fix."
"That you did," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "Well, let me go, and we'll get
cleaned up and fed. Then we can see about the rest of your appetites."
Oliver grinned quickly. "'Kay," he murmured, bending down to press his lips to
Bill's in a quick kiss before squeezing Bill's hands and then letting them go.
Reluctantly, he slid off, immediately missing the touch of Bill's skin.
Bill stood and pulled Oliver back into his arms, missing the warm press of that
strong body against his. "Come on," he breathed, kissing Oliver's temple and
then his nose before leading them into the bathroom. Fingers of one hand laced
with Oliver's, Bill tugged his young lover into the shower and turned on the
water before slowly setting to washing them both off, his hands steady with the
flannel.
"Mmm." Oliver rested his forehead on Bill's shoulder and closed his eyes,
content for the moment to simply stand and let Bill wash him. He let his own
hands rest lightly on Bill's hips, thumbs absently stroking just inside the
curve of bone. "Feels good."
"Glad you like it," Bill murmured. He felt lazy, relaxed, and Bill was fairly
sure there was more in his eyes than there ought to be as he pulled back enough
to kiss Oliver while reaching over to turn off the spray. "Let's get something
to eat, pet."
Oliver sighed and slid his hands up from Bill's hips, coasting over his ribs
and then up, curling them over strong shoulders. He squeezed lightly, moved
them again to cup the back of Bill's neck. "Kiss me again," he whispered,
lifting his face to Bill's, heart in his eyes. "Please."
Overwhelmed and not really willing to accept those feelings in Oliver's gaze,
Bill just kissed him once, a soft brush of lips. Then he stepped away,
summoning up a crooked grin. "If we keep at that, we'll never get any food, you
know," he said.
"I know." Oliver sighed and turned away, stepping out of the shower and
reaching for a towel. He cleared his throat and forced his disappointment and
hurt down deep, managing a credible smile. "Where would you like to go to eat?"
***** Chapter 2 *****
The next day, Oliver had finally managed the tour of the house (after
convincing the house elves that they truly wanted to be left completely alone
for the week), and they'd decided to camp out in one of the guest rooms. The
one with the truly massive bed. Oliver grinned wickedly as he remembered how
they'd used nearly every bit of that huge expanse that night. He intended to
use it again, just as soon as they'd finished the ice cream he was currently
carrying into the room. He had a large bowl in both hands and still nearly
dropped it as he saw Bill sprawled out in the bed, waiting for him. So
beautiful, he thought, breath catching in his throat. And all mine. At least
for now.
Bill stretched and grinned up at Oliver, the afternoon sunlight making Bill's
bare and freckled body glow with pink health. "Strawberry?" he asked hopefully,
propping himself up against the headboard and taking the opportunity to admire
all of the naked athlete before him.
Oliver grinned and nodded. "Strawberry," he said, and handed the bowl to Bill
before climbing up onto the bed and straddling Bill's legs. He settled himself
on those freckled thighs and took the bowl back, then with a smirk at Bill,
Oliver took a mouthful of the rich ice cream with the only spoon he'd brought,
eyes closing with pleasure as the flavour exploded on his tongue. "Mmmm," he
moaned.
"Good, is it?" Bill asked wryly, scooping some out of the bowl with two
fingers. He hissed when cold ice cream landed on his chest, but moaned in pure
enjoyment once he got a taste. "Oh, it is," he said, smirking and arching one
eyebrow in challenge.
"Did you want some too?" Oliver managed to sound innocently inquiring, but his
attention was caught by pink ice cream sliding over freckled skin. He licked
his lips, moved the bowl out of his way, and bent to lick Bill's chest clean.
"You'd best believe it," Bill said, running his fingers down Oliver's arm,
reaching for the bowl. "You can't bring my favourite ice cream in here and not
share. It's the sugary version of being a cock tease. A stomach tease, even."
Done with the small bit on Bill's chest, Oliver straightened again and moved
the bowl out of Bill's reach. "Hunh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "No
touching." Oliver cocked an eyebrow and smiled slowly. "I'll share, but you
have to keep your hands to yourself."
Bill cocked his head, and then let a slow, knowing grin spread across his face.
"That's fair enough," he drawled, relaxing back against the headboard and
taking the time to cushion himself with a couple of pillows. He fluttered his
lashes and rested his hands innocently over Oliver's narrow hips. "Besides, we
know I can get what I want using much more creative methods than just my
hands."
Oliver thought to himself that he'd give Bill anything he wanted at all, no
creativity required, for just an indication of how Bill really felt. He sighed
and shoved the thought away. "And you certainly are creative," Oliver finally
murmured. He smiled and filled the spoon, then lifted it to Bill's mouth.
"Oh, why thank you," Bill said, sliding his tongue under the spoon. He leaned
forward and slowly took the spoon into his mouth, easing the sweet strawberry
treat free. Eyes closed, Bill leaned back, smiling happily as the ice cream
melted on his tongue. "Mmm... even better when I'm being spoon-fed by a naked,
gorgeous bloke."
"Are you spoon-fed by naked blokes often?" Oliver asked and then filled his own
mouth, suddenly not sure he really wanted to know. He hummed softly; the ice
cream really was delicious, so he took another bite. The next spoonful went to
Bill's mouth again.
Gladly accepting it, Bill brushed his thumbs back and forth over Oliver's
smooth skin as he swallowed. "They say there's a first time for everything," he
said, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss.
Oliver grinned, relieved even as he realised that wasn't necessarily an answer.
"Apparently you're destined to be my first at a lot of things," he said, then
he put more ice cream in his own mouth and leaned over the bowl to share it
with Bill. He pressed his mouth to Bill's, cream-covered tongue sliding between
his lips.
Bill sucked on Oliver's tongue, a gentle pull into his own mouth as he groaned
playfully. "New fetish, Ollie?" he asked, nipping at Oliver's lips. Tilting his
head, Bill kissed Oliver again. "I think I could like it."
"Let me know when you decide," Oliver said with a laugh and fed Bill again,
from the spoon this time.
"Will do," Bill promised, laughter dancing in his eyes as he played along,
chasing after the spoon with his mouth, stealing kisses, licking their lips
clean. But he behaved, and kept his hands right where they were. Out of
trouble, if only for now.
They ate nearly all the bowl that way, and as the ice cream started to melt and
there really wasn't much left, Oliver "accidentally" spilled a spoonful on its
way to Bill's mouth. "Oops," he said unrepentantly, and bent with a wicked grin
to lap it up.
Fingers tensing, Bill grunted at the cold splash on his skin, and fairly purred
at the rasp of Oliver's tongue. "At least you're neat in the areas that count,"
he said, voice teasing, but still pitched a bit lower than usual. Being naked
and this close to Oliver for so long was beginning to have the predictable
effect, and Bill was getting turned on. "Say, Ollie... think I can use my hands
yet?"
"Almost," Oliver said roughly. He scooted back, scooped the last of the more
solid ice cream onto the spoon and filled his mouth, then bent and took Bill's
cock into his mouth, letting the ice cream slide out of his mouth and down
Bill's shaft.
Bill gasped in surprise, back arching. "Fuck," he moaned, cock getting harder
as soon as he even partly recovered from the shock. Cold lips, cold tongue, hot
mouth... it all wrapped around him, and Bill couldn't tell one sensation from
another; so fast and so sudden, he could only lay back and enjoy. "Fuck, Ollie,
but I love your... love your ideas."
Oliver sucked harder, feeling incredibly smug at the sound of Bill's voice and
the pleasure in it. He set the bowl to the side carelessly so he could put both
hands on Bill's hips as he sucked him down, head bobbing steadily, tongue
moving to catch the ice cream as best it could. His fingers squeezed the curve
of hips and he pulled back, off Bill's cock, so he could lick at the long
shaft, tease ginger curls with his tongue, kissing and caressing and cleaning
the last bit of strawberry away.
Satisfied it was gone, Oliver reached for the bowl and tipped it over Bill's
stomach, letting the melted ice cream drip over it and into Bill's navel.
"Sometimes I can be creative too," he rasped, and set the bowl down again
before bending to slowly lick up the mess.
"Okay," Bill groaned. "I like your fetish." He brushed his fingers through
Oliver's short hair, down along his neck and then curved his freckled hand over
Oliver's strong, solid shoulder. No one had ever tried anything quite like this
with him before, and Bill was amazed that he'd been missing out. And more than
a little impressed that Oliver managed to figure it on his own. "I like it a
lot."
Oliver raised his head just long enough to flash a quick grin up at Bill before
bending to dart his tongue into the small pool of strawberry that had gathered
in Bill's navel. "Good," he murmured, "then we can do it again." And then he
began to fuck the small hole with his tongue, pushing it in long after the ice
cream was gone. His hands moved up to cover Bill's ribs as he reluctantly left
that spot and let his tongue slide up the centre of Bill's body.
Bill shifted slowly, body curving and hands sliding along Oliver's back. "And
again," he breathed, eyes half-closed, mouth quirked in a lazy smile. He
hummed, a low rumbling sound as Oliver licked up his chest. "You know," Bill
added, almost conversationally, "you've got me in a good mood, Ollie. Favourite
ice cream and all." Long, freckled fingers traced random patterns over Oliver's
strong shoulders. "You could probably have just about anything you wanted about
now."
Tell me you love me. Oliver pressed his open mouth to Bill's chest as the words
nearly flew off his tongue. He knew Bill wasn't ready, knew that the first time
he said love would be the last time he ever saw Bill again so instead he buried
his face against warm freckled skin and just shook his head. "Just you," he
managed roughly, and cleared his throat. "I just want you."
"Then have me," Bill said, deliberately ignoring the emotion in Oliver's voice.
It would sort itself out in the end, Bill hoped. And at the very least, Oliver
would be able to avoid at least that much of a broken heart so long as Bill
didn't have to explain to him that love was just a fantasy. "Just kiss me while
you do it?"
"I am kissing you," Oliver said. He kissed Bill's chest rather obviously,
forcing his longing back into the corner of his heart where it lived and
summoning up an innocent smile for Bill.
Bill rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. How silly of me," he said. "Well, then I
reckon I'm yours to do with as you please, then aren't I?"
Laughing softly up at Bill before nosing his way to Bill's ear, Oliver nipped
at the soft flesh of Bill's earlobe and whispered, "Fuck me." He dipped his
tongue into Bill's ear and then said it again. "Fuck me."
"Gladly." Bill's voice was a bit rougher than before, razor-sharp desire racing
through him at those two words. He cupped the back of Oliver's head in one
hand, pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss, tongue sliding into Oliver's mouth.
At the same time, Bill reached down, fingers pushing between Oliver's perfect
arse cheeks, teasing him. "Ride me, Ollie," he growled between kisses. "Ride my
cock."
"Gladly," Oliver moaned, teasing Bill with the word but meaning it sincerely
all the same. He braced his knees on either side of Bill, legs pressed to his
hips. "Need... god. Lube. Something." The words were panted between nipping
kisses, need knifing into Oliver's groin and heart and making him dizzy with
the rush of blood from his brain. Cupping Bill's head in both hands, thumbs
stroking the soft skin just in front of Bill's ears, Oliver deepened the next
kiss, trying to slow them down, trying not to get lost to the pleasure so
quickly this time. He was afraid it might already be too late.
Bill caught Oliver's lower lip between his sharp teeth, worrying it slowly as
he stretched an arm out, grabbing the lube off the bedside table. Not wasting
time, not when Oliver was nearly trembling already, Bill slicked up his fingers
and pressed them against Oliver's tight entrance. He'd never wanted anyone as
much as he wanted Oliver, not after being with them even just a handful of
times; but Oliver was somehow different, and as Bill grit his teeth and pushed
his fingers in, he could admit that much to himself. If not to Oliver, at any
rate.
Oliver cried out softly and pushed back on Bill's fingers. He never got tired
of having some part of Bill inside him, never quite got used to the thrill of
that initial stretch. God, it just felt so bloody "Good. Oh, god, yes." Oliver
buried his face in the crook of Bill's neck. "Bill." He gave a low moan and
squeezed Bill's fingers inside him. "I want your cock."
"Want you, too," Bill murmured, pressing as deeply as he could reach. God, did
he ever; Bill wanted Oliver more with each moan, each flutter around his
fingers. Bill didn't want to wait any more, not really, but he would, so long
as Oliver wanted it. Or at least as long as he could handle it. "So much,
Ollie. So much."
"Fuck me," Oliver begged, and licked a thick stripe up Bill's throat, then
nuzzled behind his ear. Tightening his grip on Bill, Oliver lifted himself up
so he could push back on those exploring fingers again. "Take me, please, I'm
yours, I need you."
Groaning, Bill bit Oliver's shoulder where it curved up to his neck. "Tell me
it's enough," he begged, and then sucked hard on a thick cord of muscle,
twisting his long fingers. It wasn't really enough, Bill knew; he knew Oliver's
gorgeous body from head to toe by now, but if Oliver said so...
It wasn't enough, not quite, but Oliver was once again desperate to have Bill
inside, to have him freely and completely in the only way Bill would allow.
"It's enough," Oliver groaned as his head fell back and he worked himself on
Bill's fingers. "Please, Bill." His head felt so heavy, but Oliver forced it
forward again so he could murmur in Bill's ear, "Put your cock in me."
Hand almost shaking, Bill pulled his fingers free and quickly stroked himself.
"C'mon and let me in, pet," he moaned, holding his cock in place, so close he
couldn't stand it. "Ride me, Ollie. Love it when you do..."
"Bill," Oliver said, voice almost a whine and breath catching in this throat as
he sat, pushing down to take Bill in. His body resisted at first and then
suddenly it gave, relaxing, and Bill slid fully inside. "God," Oliver gasped,
face pressed tight to Bill's neck. It hurt, and felt so good, and he was
finally somehow complete. I love you. I love you. Oliver bit his lip and let
only the wordless moans escape.
After several endless seconds Oliver started to move, legs tensing to lift
himself off Bill's cock, relaxing to take him in again, slowly but steadily
riding the way Bill had taught him. His hips made small circles as he moved,
increasing the intense pleasure that ripped through him each time Bill slid
fully home.
There was nothing much more that Bill could do but moan and lift up into each
of Oliver's slow movements, chasing that tight feeling, so he did. Head tilted
back and pressed against the headboard, Bill kept his eyes open, just enough to
watch Oliver move. "So gorgeous," he groaned, sliding one hand down Oliver's
back, rubbing his tense thighs. "So good." His voice was rough, almost a growl
as he went on. "Kiss me, Ollie. Want... want to taste you."
Oliver murmured in agreement and kissed his way up Bill's neck and along his
jaw until their lips met and clung. Oliver's steady pace slowed even further as
he slid his tongue over Bill's bottom lip and then into his mouth. There was
still the faintest trace of strawberry there, and Oliver smiled against Bill's
mouth.
Whimpering, Bill sucked on Oliver's tongue. His hands were tight on Oliver's
hips, and Bill could feel the play of strong muscles under smooth skin as
Oliver moved so bloody slowly over him. "Oliver," Bill panted, and then bit his
own lip before closing back in for another kiss. "Oliver..."
"Bill," Oliver whispered back, "Bill." Oliver moaned into Bill's mouth, sharing
kiss after long, thorough kiss as he moved slowly, riding Bill's cock as if
they had all the time in the world to stay just like this. He felt suspended in
the pleasure but more than that, Oliver felt so much love for the man under
him, in him. It overflowed his heart, filling him up and tightening his throat,
and his eyes stung. He wanted desperately to tell Bill how he felt but held it
back with tremendous effort. "Oh, god."
A warm feeling, deeper in Bill's bones than the mind-blowing perfection of how
good Oliver felt, spread through Bill. His chest seemed to expand with it, and
Bill finally accepted just how fucked he really was, and in a way that had
nothing to do with the strangled noises coming from Oliver right now. But now
wasn't the time to deal with it, so Bill tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to shove
it all away and get lost in the feeling of the moment.
"Harder," he groaned, leaning back against the headboard and unable to take his
eyes off Oliver's face. "Please, Ollie. Faster."
Oliver braced himself so he could do as Bill asked. He began moving faster, his
arms resting on Bill's shoulders as he lifted himself up, dropped onto Bill
harder, groaning as the pleasure spiked and he moved faster and it spiked again
and he cried out. "Fuck," Oliver groaned, only realising his eyes were closed
as he forced them open again to look at Bill.
"Bill?" His eyes were so... Oliver didn't know, couldn't breathe as he saw a
wealth of feeling there in Bill's eyes, more than he'd hoped to ever see. All
of that emotion - Oliver didn't dare call it love, not yet - shoved Oliver up
into a whole new level of pleasure, and he couldn't maintain any sort of rhythm
any more. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open and on Bill's as he
began almost bouncing on Bill's lap, body reaching for the explosion that was
almost almost there.
"I've got you," Bill gasped, thrusting up and meeting Oliver as best as he
could, over and over again. He cupped the back of Oliver's neck, fingers solid
and strong and keeping Oliver on earth while he reached between them and
wrapped his long fingers around Oliver's cock, tugging. "Got you, Ollie. Got
you." Bill's eyes wanted to close, but he wouldn't let them; closing his eyes
would mean he wouldn't be able to watch Oliver any more, wouldn't be able to
see him as moved and groaned and looked so amazing, so... "So gorgeous," he
finished out loud, and moaned, back arching. "God, so fucking close."
"I know." Oliver was, too, so close he was nearly in tears, knowing how bloody
fantastic it would be when they came. Oliver moved just that little bit faster
and gasped. His eyes widened and went blind as climax slammed through him,
sending his body into hard spasms as he flew, Bill's name on his lips.
Bill didn't even try and hold back and last even a second longer when Oliver
came. Instead, he just surrendered to it, to Oliver, and came as well,
thrusting up into Oliver once more, his cock grasped and squeezed almost
painfully, heartbeat roaring in his ears, and any words, even Oliver's name,
completely beyond him as Bill's mouth hung open and he curled closer, his
forehead pressed to Oliver's shoulder and strangled whimpers barely escaping
him.
Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around Bill's shoulders, cheek pressed hard to
Bill's ear as they shook with slowly receding tremors. He had no idea how long
he held Bill like that before he could hear again, breathe without panting
again, and even after the aftershocks stopped and he could feel that Bill's
heartbeat had slowed with his own he still held on, reveling in the way it felt
to be wrapped around Bill, knowing now without doubt that Bill loved him.
With a sigh of residual pleasure, Oliver let a truly smug smile curve his lips.
He stroked Bill's hair and lightly kissed his ear. "Wow," he finally murmured,
still grinning.
"And how," Bill laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Oliver's waist and
stroking his back with his clean hand. He swallowed and took a deep breath,
gathering the wide-open parts of his heart and putting them back together.
Maybe he'd bring them back out again later, but if Bill had his way, it would
be not ever. This had disaster written all over it, but now Bill knew he'd
never be able to walk away unless Oliver told him to go. Not now.
Bill coughed once, quietly, and kissed the salty skin of Oliver's neck. "Bloody
hell, but you're fucking good at that, Ollie," he managed, grinning as best as
he could even though it didn't reach his eyes.
Oliver nuzzled at Bill's neck, still feeling almost unbearably smug. "I had a
fantastic teacher," he laughed, and then he left a trail of enthusiastic kisses
along Bill's jaw and on his lips. "I feel like flying," he said. He was
suddenly filled with energy, everything right and complete with his world. "Do
you want to go flying? Or we could have more ice cream." Oliver laughed again
and buried his face in Bill's throat, squeezing Bill in a sudden hug.
Laughing at Oliver's enthusiasm, Bill hugged him back, if not as tightly. "I
could get dressed and go flying if you wanted," he said, kissing the tip of
Oliver's nose. In a way, he needed to leave this room, this bed; he needed to
get some distance from the emotions thick around them. "Fresh air is good now
and then. Especially for growing boys with quidditch obsessions, I've been
told."
Oliver laughed back and pressed a fast kiss to Bill's lips. "Wicked," he said,
and hugged Bill again, just because he could. "I'm going to run shower in my
room so you can shower here and I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes."
Oliver very nearly told Bill then, nearly let the words that filled his soul
spill from his lips but... something held him back. I love you so much. Instead
he nuzzled Bill's neck and kissed behind his ear and then pulled away, nearly
bouncing out of the bed. "Hurry!" he called over his shoulder as he almost ran
out of the room, body thrumming with energy and excitement. It was better this
way, he thought. He wanted the first time he told Bill how he felt to be
perfect, and somehow sweaty and smelling of sex didn't seem quite dignified
enough.
For several long moments, Bill didn't move from the bed. He just stared up at
the ceiling, blinking slowly and trying not to think. It was obvious that
Oliver had seen something, had noticed a change, and if Bill didn't do
something soon, things were going to be completely out of his control. He was
going to break Oliver's heart much worse than he would have if he'd just told
Oliver to piss off all those months ago and never seen him again. Which was
what he really ought to have done in the first place. A man his age had no
business being with a boy Oliver's age, and there really wasn't much wiggle
room in that. Bill knew it, had known it from the very beginning, just like he
knew he had no right to let Oliver tie himself down like this without having
any life experience to help him make a real decision.
"Fucking hell," Bill sighed, and rolled off the bed. He walked across the room
slowly, feeling about a million years old as he turned on the shower and leant
against the wall. This was his fault, his mess. And he'd just gone and made it
worse.
~**~**~**~**~**~
Oliver hadn't been able to wait for Bill; he was already in the air and
looping, spinning, diving by the time he noticed Bill strolling out the back
door. "Hi!" he yelled down, waving enthusiastically before diving again, headed
for Bill, pulling up just short of running into him and climbing in a spiral
above his head. "Hi," Oliver said again, laughing still.
"Hi yourself," Bill said, grinning fondly up into the afternoon light. He had
his broom over his shoulder, but Bill just stood there for a bit, watching
Oliver fly. He was like a bird, swooping and diving as though he were following
secret air currents through the sky. Still smiling, even though it didn't quite
reach his shadowed eyes, Bill mounted his broom and took off, shooting up as
fast as he dared. He was a fair flier, but next to Oliver, Bill felt almost
clumsy in the air, and he laughed at himself as he pulled a wide loop, enjoying
the pull of gravity and the rush of wind.
Still grinning, Oliver flew around Bill as he looped. "Your hair'll get
tangled," he said absently, attention caught by the long red strands blowing in
the wind generated by their flight. So distracted was he that Oliver nearly ran
into a tree, pulling up at the last minute. He kept going, climbing faster and
faster, embarrassed by his near-disaster. He didn't crash. Ever.
Bill had been too busy brooding to remember to tie his hair back, and he could
have kicked himself for being so distracted, not that it would do much good
now. But instead, he just shrugged and played it cool. "I'll live," he called
out, and then banked left, turning a wide arc and letting the wind have its
wicked way with his hair. At the very least, Bill was fairly sure he remembered
a decent detangling spell.
Oliver finally straightened, then slowed, then stopped altogether, hovering
dozens of feet above Bill to watch. He wasn't bad; Oliver could tell it'd been
awhile since Bill had flown for pleasure, but it was certainly one of those
things a bloke never forgot. A stupid smile fought its way onto Oliver's face,
and he lay on his broom and just kept watching. Bill's hair was like flame
floating around his head, his body was lean and graceful and suddenly Oliver
could feel the muscles under his itching fingers. "I love you," he murmured,
finally letting the words out too far away for Bill to hear. "I want to live
with you forever."
As though he could hear anyway, Bill looked up at Oliver and waved just then,
and angled his broom up to head up in a slow spiral. He was relaxing into the
rhythm of flight again, and by the time he was close enough to tease Oliver
about looking so comfortable, Bill found himself just grinning and saying, "I
haven't flown like this since I was a kid!"
"I know," Oliver said, intending to smirk but unable to shake the soft edges
from his expression. His smile widened. "It's fantastic, isn't it?" Finally
sitting up, Oliver pulled next to Bill and reached out, fingertips skimming
Bill's face at his hairline, moving down from temple to jaw and then falling
away.
Feeling odd, but still unable to stop the words, Bill went on. "Bloke I dated
in school used to take me flying," he said, and dimly wondered if maybe this
was his subconscious' way of dealing with the new situation and the softness in
Oliver's eyes. "We used to go all around the school, and then sneak under the
stands to fool around."
Oliver's smile slipped just a bit even as he berated himself for being jealous
of the past. It was over, and Bill was his now. "I wish I'd known you then," he
said, and then grinned suddenly. "But only if I were as old as I am now."
Oliver reached out again, this time resting his hand on Bill's on the broom.
"I'd like to fool around under the stands with you."
"Considering that back then you hadn't even started puberty yet, I'd say so."
Bill stuck his tongue out at Oliver. "I was fourteen, fifteen. That winter, I
learned to do loops and that even teen-aged lust can't make those stands warm
in February."
Even knowing it was dangerous, Oliver couldn't stop himself leaning forward for
a kiss, hand tightening on Bill's hand on the broom as his tongue chased after
Bill's. He laughed softly into the kiss and murmured, "No, nothing makes
outdoor Scotland warm in February." His tone was fond; he loved everything
about Scotland, even the frigid cold. With a sigh, Oliver rested his forehead
against Bill's. Soon, he thought. Maybe now, even. It felt right. Oliver pulled
back just enough to meet Bill's eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself
to say the most important three words he ever would.
"Oh, I learned that lesson well enough," Bill said with a half smile that
didn't really reach his eyes. "He taught me a lot of things, some not nearly as
fun as where to go for a spot of privacy in school." He had been so sure that
he was in love back then. That they belonged together, that the other boy had
loved him back. And that had been the hardest lesson to learn, in the end; that
the sort of love Bill had so childishly imagined was nothing more than a
foolish fantasy. Bill sighed and brought his mind back to the now, and looked
into Oliver's eyes, seeing that same daydream glittering hopefully, and Bill's
heart broke more than a little for what he was about to do. "But at least I
learned the truth of what people call love."
What people call love? Oliver frowned slightly. That sounded wrong, somehow,
and he felt the first small trickles of unease. This wasn't going the way he'd
wanted. He'd been going to tell Bill 'I love you' and then Bill would smile
that one smile that melted Oliver clear down to his toes and they would fly off
into the sunset together. His lips twitched in involuntary amusement. Well,
okay, maybe no sunset, but still...
The momentary amusement was gone and the unease back, stronger than before.
"Er," Oliver said cautiously, "what truth is that?"
"That all the pretty names in the world can't make up for the fact that it's
nothing more than foolish dreams wrapped around lust," Bill said firmly. He
wanted to be gentle about it, but more than that, he needed Oliver to
understand now before things got worse. Sitting back, Bill managed a wry grin
that faded almost at once and sighed, reaching out to brush his fingers over
Oliver's cheek. "You'll see what I mean, more and more when you get older and
date other blokes."
Oliver couldn't breathe. It was as if Bill's words had sucked all the oxygen
out of the air around them, or else had sucker punched him. Date other blokes?
Foolish dreams? "Oh," Oliver whispered. It was all he could manage. But I love
you! his brain screamed wildly. "Okay." The word sounded as painful as it had
felt, at least to himself. "Okay, sure." Oliver backed away slowly,
unconsciously, eyes fixed on Bill's face. I love you.
Eyes stinging and throat tight, Oliver pulled up sharply on his broom and fled,
climbing higher and higher, faster and faster, needing to get as far away from
Bill as he could, just for a little while.
Unable to face the hurt he'd caused for another minute more, Bill closed his
eyes and tried to ignore the nausea rolling through him. His stomach was in
tight knots as he sighed and tilted his head back, watching Oliver run away
from him. At that moment, Bill hated himself completely for being seven kinds
of a selfish fucker for not walking away while he still could, for being the
one to teach Oliver this one horrible fact of sex and dating. And he needed to
get away before he retched up the ice cream from earlier, the inherent sense of
wrongness to the entire situation beating him about the head and shoulders. So
Bill just turned away and landed, walking into the house without another word.
I should probably pack and be ready to go, Bill thought as he made his slow way
up to the spare room he'd claimed so he wouldn't be faced with the remnants of
Oliver's recent childhood each time he looked around. There's no way he'll want
anything to do with me now that I've gone and done that. But at least I did it
before he could say anything he'd regret later...
***** Crash and Burn, part 3 *****
Chapter by semaphoredrivethru
Oliver flew. He had no idea how long or far, and didn't care. He didn't do any
of the tricks he normally had to consciously avoid at school, the kinds of
things that came as naturally to him as breathing. Instead he screamed up and
out and away until he couldn't breathe because the air was too thin instead of
because his lungs had seized and he was shaking with cold instead of the threat
of tears.
He finally saw the ocean and stopped short, stunned out of his turmoil by the
realisation of how far he was from home. "Damn," Oliver said softly, wryly. He
kept going, albeit more slowly and more aware of his surroundings, until he
landed on the rocky shore with a wince. He'd been curled over his broom for a
long time and his muscles were protesting. After walking out the kinks, Oliver
climbed up onto a large rock and stared out at the waves rolling in.
It was warmer now that he wasn't flying, although not by much. Oliver didn't
really notice. He sat there and stared blindly until the tears finally came.
Oliver brought his feet up, wrapped his arms around his bent knees, and cried.
At first he cried for himself, because god he hurt. He didn't understand why
Bill kept insisting love wasn't real, why he refused to admit his own feelings
when Oliver had seen them plain as day on his face. Then he cried for Bill, and
wanted to find that stupid kid who'd hurt Bill this badly and kill him.
Eventually the tears dried up, and Oliver sighed and scrubbed at his eyes with
the heels of his hands. He just felt tired and empty now, but underneath it all
he loved Bill. Oliver laughed shortly, without amusement. "I still love you,"
he said out loud, defiantly. "Foolish dream or no, I love you."
He jumped when a bird squawked at him, startled at his sudden near-shout as he
was now startled by it. It made him laugh again, this time truly laugh, and he
apologised to the bird as it squawked again angrily and flew away. Good humour
at least partially restored, Oliver stood and walked out the kinks again, arse
completely frozen and legs stiff from sitting so still for so long. It was
nearly dark, and wicked cold, and Oliver realised he'd been shivering for
awhile. And that he didn't know how to get home or how long it would take to
fly there.
Taking firm hold of his precious Nimbus - Bill loved him, dammit - Oliver
closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and Apparated home.
Bill jumped at the crack of someone Apparating in the room, and looked up from
the book he hadn't actually been reading. Relief spread through him to see
Oliver back at last, even if it did mean that he was going to be tossed out
now, because at least Oliver was safe. Bill's bag was packed and waiting beside
the fireplace on the other side of the room, and Bill uncrossed his ankle from
over his knee and stood, smoothing his t-shirt and expression.
"You're back." He didn't try to pretend that he didn't know why Oliver had run,
but at the same time, Bill knew if they had to voice it, then that really would
be it for whatever this fucked up situation was. "Safe and sound, even."
Oliver's eyes flew open as he was startled again. He'd thought Bill would have
gone to bed, or something. He looked at Bill, hard, deciding in that split
second of time that love meant he was in for the long haul. If he really loved
Bill, Oliver had to take the whole package, not just the sex and the parts that
didn't hurt.
"Hi." Oliver gave Bill a tired smile, one that crumbled a bit around the edges,
and walked toward him. He slid his arms loosely around Bill's waist and rested
his head on Bill's chest and closed his eyes again. "Sorry about that."
"Shhh..." Bill said, letting himself hug back briefly. That was about when he
realised that Oliver was shivering in his arms, the cold seeping through Bill's
clothes and raising goose-flesh on Bill's warm skin. "Didn't your mum teach you
to come in out of the cold?" he asked softly, apparating them upstairs,
directly into Oliver's bedroom. "Come along, pet; let's get you warmed up."
It took some pushing, but Bill managed to get Oliver to sit on his bed, and
wrapped a magically warmed blanket around his shoulders. Oliver's lips had gone
a touch blue and Bill shook his head, half-aware he was likely clucking just
like his mum would when he and Charlie would pull some particularly daft stunt.
"Do you feel better now, at least?"
Oliver shrugged and tugged the blanket more tightly around himself. "We aren't
sleeping in here," he said lamely. "Are we? My bed's not really big enough for
the both of us."
Bill paused. "I didn't think I'd be sleeping anywhere here now," he said
quietly, fingers brushing the side of Oliver's face.
Leaning his face into Bill's hand, Oliver closed his eyes and slumped. "You
said you had a week," he whispered, voice quiet and somehow lost. "Don't go
yet."
"Alright," Bill breathed back. He pulled Oliver up and into his arms, and took
a chance to kiss the still-cold tip of his nose. "Not yet."
Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around Bill and buried his face in the crook of
Bill's neck. "Let's just go to bed, please?" He felt weak with relief; he
thought it would have broken something inside him if Bill had left. "I'm so
tired."
It felt so good to be in Bill's arms again. Oliver sighed and finally relaxed
completely. This was home, this gorgeous man with shadows in his eyes. Oliver
smiled faintly at his whimsical thought, but realised it was true. Bill was his
home now, forever. Oliver just had to convince him, and that would be a
challenge. One he was honestly not up to tonight. Normally blessed with excess
energy, tonight it was all Oliver could do to stay upright. Too much emotion,
too much flying, too much cold. Too much everything. "Bed?" he said again,
mumbled really.
"Bed," Bill sighed in agreement. He shouldn't stay, and he knew it. He should
just leave and never contact Oliver again, and save them both more heartache.
But not tonight, not just now when Bill was hurting too and maybe later it
would be easier for them to say goodbye when Oliver's face wasn't streaked with
dried tears.
Not that it would even change things in the end, because Bill knew what Oliver
wanted, what he'd thought he'd get right before Bill had dropped his hopes and
dreams to the ground. Bill might feel a certain way, but Oliver couldn't
honestly return that feeling without wrapping it up in fantasies of happily
ever afters and one and only. That wasn't how life worked and Oliver needed to
find that out on his own.
As they made their slow way into the room they had claimed as their hideaway,
Bill shoved away his brooding and focused on the now. Because all there was to
do was to get through this moment, to get Oliver warmed up and not so broken.
And whose fault is it that he needs it in the first place, Weasley? You were
supposed to be avoiding this by sticking around, now weren't you? Bang-up job,
that, Bill's inner voice taunted, but Bill just told it to piss off, and kissed
Oliver's hair.
"Come to bed, Ollie," he murmured, trying to pry himself out of Oliver's tight
embrace.
Oliver reflexively clutched at Bill more tightly before it occurred to him that
he had to let go so they could get ready for bed. His arms dropped, and he
turned away, tugging his jumper off over his head and dropping it to the floor
as he stumbled into the adjoining loo. After relieving himself and brushing his
teeth, Oliver splashed cold water on his face and pressed cold, wet fingers to
his eyes for a moment, trying to soothe the itchy feeling from all that crying.
It helped a little. Finally he dried his face, knowing he'd been avoiding going
back to the bedroom but also knowing he couldn't avoid it forever, and really
couldn't stay awake much longer either.
"Sorry," he mumbled around a yawn, "should've asked if you wanted it first."
Oliver dropped his jeans and pants carelessly, leaving them where they fell,
and crawled into the bed with a sigh of relief, and without ever looking
directly at Bill. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Bill stripped down without a word, sparing a moment to wish he'd packed a pair
of pants, because somehow he felt like he oughtn't be naked just now. But then
he just climbed in behind Oliver and curled up against his back, spooning
close. He should leave, Bill knew. He should get up and get dressed and just
go, save them both the uncomfortable days ahead after all this had happened.
Yawning, Bill kissed the back of Oliver's neck softly, tenderly, and promised
himself he would leave. Soon...
With another yawn, Bill snuggled closer to Oliver's body, warm once more, and
fell into sleep with an unconscious sigh of relief.
~**~**~**~**~**~
Oliver stretched as he woke, sliding his legs against Bill's and reveling in
the ability to do so. He'd done it yesterday, too, before remembering the hurt
Monday had brought. It had been a trifle awkward, neither one of them
mentioning it all day and yet both of them clearly thinking about it. They
hadn't even had sex. Oliver frowned. That right there was the real tragedy. And
now today was his birthday, and if he had to have a birthday, then he was
definitely going to have Bill. The frown melted into a slow, wicked smile, and
Oliver stretched himself against Bill again.
Humming in pleasure that Oliver was awake at last, Bill hugged him close and
kissed his hair. Bill had been awake for a while now, and had been about five
minutes away from waking Oliver himself. Of course, it would have been a nice
wake-up call, but at least his patience paid off well.
"Good morning, birthday boy," he murmured, grinning. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mmm," Oliver said and kissed Bill's chest. "Don't say that word." He kissed
the warm skin again and nuzzled until he found a soft flat nipple, which he
licked slowly. His hand slid down the center of Bill's body to curl around his
slowly firming cock.
"What? Birthday?" Bill's voice was a little rougher than before, and he paused
to groan softly; Oliver was in one of those moods, and after a full day without
any sex, Bill wasn't going to complain in the slightest. Not that he normally
would, of course. "But it means you're all grown up now, Ollie-boy."
Oliver squeezed and tugged, hand stroking over Bill's cock as his mouth moved
slowly down over the soft skin of Bill's stomach. He shot Bill a look. "It's
just another day," he said, "I'm the same person I was yesterday." Then he bent
again and pushed his tongue into Bill's navel.
Bill groaned and shifted, undulating under Oliver's hand and mouth as his cock
reached full hardness. "I know you are," he said, voice breathy. "But now
you're legally grown up and I'm less likely to get into so much shite for
dating you, still in school or not."
Instead of pointing out that Bill wasn't exactly dating him, Oliver moved
further and took Bill's cock into his mouth. He moaned around the thick flesh,
stroking his tongue against the ridges and veins, taking Bill all the way in
until the round head bumped the back of his throat.
"Fuck, but that's good," Bill groaned, the fingers of one hand carding through
Oliver's short hair. His eyes fluttered shut trustingly, and Bill moaned
Oliver's name softly.
I love you. Oliver closed his eyes and concentrated on making Bill feel
amazing, wanting Bill to feel how much he loved him. Oliver sucked and licked,
hands stroking over strong thighs and slim hips. Please, love me.
God, but Bill could get lost in how bloody fantastic Oliver made him feel,
kissing and sucking and touching. He thrust up gently, groaning again. Oliver
seemed to have an obsession with sucking Bill's cock, and Bill couldn't be
happier about it. The only thing that could make it better would be... "Please
let me fuck you," Bill gasped, hand clenching briefly in Oliver's hair.
"Please, Ollie."
"Yes," Oliver groaned, letting go of Bill's cock and kissing quickly up his
body. "I want you inside me."
Thank god. Bill didn't deserve it, and he knew it, but that still didn't stop
him from holding Oliver close and rolling over, pinning Oliver flat to the bed.
Summoning his wand, Bill cast the charm to prepare Oliver, and then kissed a
hot, open-mouthed trail up Oliver's neck to his mouth. He wasn't slow now,
wasn't lazy; he kissed Oliver hard, pressing his tongue into that familiar
mouth, tasting him, marking him all over again, wanting to feel it when Oliver
wanted it just as much as he did.
Oliver wrapped arms and legs around Bill to hold him close, stroking Bill's
tongue with his own as they kissed again and again. "Please," he whispered
between kisses, hips rolling up to rub his cock against Bill's stomach.
"Please." He needed Bill, so much, needed to reaffirm his claim on Bill after
Monday's pain. Needed to give himself to Bill completely, heart and body
combined. He choked back the words of love, letting Bill's mouth occupy his own
instead.
Bill ran his hands up and down Oliver's sides, fingernails scraping as he went.
"Ollie..." he groaned, and reached around Oliver's clinging body to position
himself. But Bill's cock was dry, so despite the work the magic had done, he
had to push harder than usual to get inside. It was either that or wait, and
there was no more time for waiting. "Stop me..." he gasped. "If it hurts..."
"Never," Oliver groaned. "Never stop. Oh god." Oliver's neck arched, head
pressing back into the pillows. It was too much, and Oliver wouldn't have
traded it for the world. There was absolutely nothing like the way it felt to
have Bill push inside. "Bill."
Bill panted against Oliver's neck, and then stopped breathing entirely until he
was completely inside, buried and wrapped up. All the hair on his body was
standing on end, and Bill froze for a moment until the air rushed back into his
lungs and Bill started shaking. "Fuck... fuck, so good," he groaned, almost
growled, hips twitching but still not really moving.
Oliver threaded his fingers through Bill's hair, his other hand stroking Bill's
back soothingly. "I know," he whispered, "god, yes." He kissed Bill's hair.
"Fuck me. I want to feel you move."
"Yes," Bill hissed, and levered himself up as he started to move. His eyes were
screwed shut, and Bill just gave himself over to the slide in and out, to the
clasp of Oliver's body. Soon, he was pounding into Oliver again and again,
grunting with his thrusts, hands fisting in the sheets with a white-knuckled
grip.
So good. Fuck, it felt so bloody good and Oliver wondered vaguely why the hell
they hadn't done this yesterday in spite of everything, because there was
nothing more right than the push of Bill into his body over and over again. His
fingers dug into the muscles of Bill's back and he tightened his legs around
Bill's waist, and gave himself completely to the primal rhythm Bill had set.
"Oh fuck," he panted, helpless moans spilling from his throat. "Oh my god. So,
nngh, so good." Oliver let one hand slip between them to grab his own cock and
tug.
Senseless words of praise, groaned brokenly, fell from Bill's lips as his head
fell forward. He just kept on moving, hair spilling loose over his shoulders,
framing their faces and cutting them off from everything but this as Bill
pressed their foreheads together, panting harshly against Oliver's lips.
"Ollie," Bill whimpered, thrusting harder. Arms under and behind Oliver, Bill
grabbed one of those strong, solid shoulders and used his grip to pull the
younger man into each thrust. "So... so fucking amazing..."
"Yes! Oh, god, yes!" Oliver cried out, writhing helplessly under Bill, brain
and body both melting as he gave himself over to Bill, to the moment, to the
way it felt. "Bill," he said, almost weeping. "Bill." Oliver forced his eyes
open so he could see Bill, so close, the strain evident in his expression, eyes
screwed shut. "I love you," he mouthed soundlessly while Bill couldn't see. "I
love you." And then he gasped and shook as he came, so hard he nearly passed
out.
Everything melted away for Bill then, and there was only this. This feeling,
this moment, with Oliver trembling under and around him, the perfection of
hanging on the edge of his own orgasm while Oliver spilled between them. Bill
slowed his hips, dragging the moment out, and then it crested inside of him,
filling him until he felt like he was exploding, coming until stars lit up
behind his eyelids and he threw back his head, giving a strangled shout that
might have been in triumph. The hurt, the volumes of things said and unsaid,
none of it could come close to this, and he knew it.
"Goddamn," Bill mumbled, collapsing on top of Oliver, shifting only enough so
he wouldn't squash him. He pressed lazy, almost tender kisses to the sweaty
column of Oliver's throat, and smiled gently, his eyes fluttering open at last.
"Yeah," Oliver mumbled in stunned agreement. He was still panting, heart still
racing, body still sparking with pleasure. His hand slowly trailed up and down
Bill's back. "Wow." He smiled stupidly, his brain completely incapable of
forming words of more than one syllable. "Bill."
"Hmmm..." Bill hummed, nuzzling Oliver's jaw and still smiling. "I didn't know
to bring a present for you," he said, though it was more a mumble than anything
else as he picked the earlier conversation back up, "so why don't we do
something for your birthday? You can pick."
Oliver laughed; he couldn't help it. "I think we just did," he said, still
snickering.
Bill snorted and tickled Oliver's side. "Prat," he said affectionately, hand
stroking now. "No, I meant something involving us dressed. Going out somewhere.
Together, and not just for take-away or the like."
"A date?" Oliver asked, unable to quite keep the incredulity from his voice.
"In public?"
"Call it whatever you want," Bill said, unable to stop the sudden blush.
"But... yes. In public." He freed an arm and brushed the backs of his knuckles
along Oliver's cheek. "You're all grown up now, Ollie-boy. Well, at least as
far as assorted authorities are concerned. And we can always go somewhere where
it won't matter you're not out. If you wanted to go, that is. Either way, I
promise you plenty of spectacular birthday shagging."
"I want to go," Oliver said quietly. He cupped Bill's face in one hand and
kissed him lightly, smiling. "Imagine that. A real date." His smile widened and
then he laughed softly. "And the shagging is always spectacular." Pulling back
slightly, Oliver looked at Bill seriously. "I want you to promise me something
else before we go."
Bill arched a ginger-coloured eyebrow. "What's that?"
Oliver couldn't maintain the serious expression any more, but he did manage to
contain it to just a smile, eyes laughing. "You have to promise not to tell the
wait staff it's my birthday. Mum always does and they sing and it's awful."
Scowling, Bill shook his head and kissed Oliver's smiling mouth. "It's a deal
then," he said, giving in and chuckling. He tilted Oliver's face, kissed the
tip of his nose, and gave a long, relaxed sigh as he rolled away. "I'm going to
shower and see about breakfast," he said. "Because I know you're hungry; you
always are."
Laughing, Oliver curled around Bill's pillow and watched him go. Damn, he was
gorgeous. Once Bill's naked arse disappeared into the loo, Oliver sighed and
closed his eyes. He didn't understand why Bill couldn't admit that they were in
love. It was so obvious, at least to him. Another sigh and Oliver started to
doze, waiting for his turn in the shower. Bill would say it someday. Wouldn't
he?
~**~**~**~**~**~
One of Oliver's endearing traits was his remarkable ability to drop off into
sleep between one breath and the next, Bill mused. He smiled, relaxed now that
no one could see him as he faced Oliver in bed, sharing one large pillow with
him, and brushed long, freckled fingers through short dark hair. It was a
nicely warm familiarity, to just lie in bed, their legs tangled together as he
listened to Oliver's slow breathing.
Bill felt almost guilty for enjoying this intimacy, easily as deep as the
physical one they had shared for a while now. He had no right to take pleasure
in this peacefulness when he was standing in the way of Oliver's learning to
appreciate it. He needed the experiences to compare it to, needed a few years
of trying different things on for size before he could properly judge what was
the best fit for Oliver. Hell, Bill was several years and countless partners
ahead of Oliver, and even he hadn't known he could feel this comfortable, this
complete with another person. Which meant, of course, when Oliver moved on,
that Bill would be able to put himself back together again and maybe find it
again some day.
Not that he really wanted to, but the ability was there, and that idea was
enough to keep him going, to keep pushing Oliver to get the life experience he
needed to make these sort of emotional decisions for real one day.
"You'll understand why one day," Bill whispered around a strange lump in his
throat, and kissed the tip of Oliver's nose as lightly as he could. Oliver,
ever the sound sleeper, only smiled and snuggled deeper into the bed, leaning
closer to Bill's warmth out of pure instinct. Bill almost pulled Oliver into a
proper cuddle, but didn't; there wasn't the time.
It had been a far too-short week, for the most part, but it was over now, and
Bill had to go back to Egypt. And while Oliver thought it wouldn't be until the
following day, this time Bill hoped to avoid the long, horrible good-byes, and
just pull the bandage right off. Besides, he'd already caused enough hurt this
visit, anyhow. Another kiss, this one to Oliver's forehead, and Bill eased out
of bed, washed up and dressed as quietly as he could manage. He pulled a
letter, written earlier while Oliver was in the shower, out of his bag and left
it on the nightstand, right next to Oliver's wand.
Bill sat on the bed and traced the lines of Oliver's face one more time, his
eyes shadowed and full of proof of his inner turmoil. "I miss you already," he
breathed, brushing his thumb over Oliver's sleep-slack lips. He paused another
moment longer, as though thinking about saying something more, but just shook
his head and stood, scooped up his bag and headed down the stairs before even
pulling on his boots. One more longing look back the way he'd come, and then
Bill slipped out the door and Apparated away with a decisive pop.
It was only an hour or so later when Oliver reached for Bill instinctively,
missing the warmth of Bill's solid body against him even in sleep. His hand
slid over cool sheets instead of warm flesh, and it confused him enough to pull
him from sound sleep. He cracked one eye open and peered from the depths of the
pillow his face was smashed into. Instead of freckles and red hair Oliver saw
only the firm slash of his name on an envelope propped next to his wand.
"No," he whispered and shook his head, knowing already what the letter meant
without even reading it. He sat up abruptly and fisted his hands in the sheet.
"No!" Sheet still in his fist, Oliver pressed his knuckles to his forehead. He
sat like that for a long time before finally letting go of the sheet and
reaching for the envelope. His hand shook and his throat worked against the
lump already forming.

Dear Oliver,
I'm sorry to sneak out on you like this, but I can't stay away any longer.
Nigel might be willing to cover for me, but there's only so much he can do, and
I wouldn't want him paying for my unscheduled holiday, you know? Besides, I
thought it best if we parted on a high note this time, since you always look so
miserable when I leave. You'll want to remember that some day; always try to
leave them smiling.
Now here's the part where I'm a well-mannered boy: Thank you very much for
having me... and having me over. I had a very nice visit, and I hope we can do
it again soon.
Very soon, even.
I'll write soon, and you have to let me know how the match with Hufflepuff
goes, and when you pass your Apparation exam (which we both know you'll pass
with flying colours, since you've been at it for months now, anyhow). I look
forward to your next letter.
L,
~Bill
"Goddammit," Oliver growled. His eyes stung, but he blinked rapidly, choosing
to be angry instead of letting the hurt swamp him. Bill hadn't even had the
decency to say goodbye. Oliver nearly crumpled the letter but dropped it to the
bed at the last second, knowing even through the roil of emotion that he'd want
to save this one with all the others Bill had written. Instead, he grabbed the
pillow and threw it at the night table, knocking the lamp there to the floor
and shattering it. The crash made him feel slightly better. He stomped into the
loo and then back out when he was done, and dressed warmly so he could stomp
downstairs and out, kicking off viciously and flying up in a rush even though
it was the middle of the night, finding some solace in the wind and his broom
as he always did. Bill could wait until hell froze over; Oliver was not writing
back. Or at least not first.
~**~**~**~**~
25 April, 1993
Thanks EVER so much for sparing me the agony of saying goodbye. I've discovered
it's much easier to just WAKE UP IN THE NIGHT AND FIND YOU GONE. I've also,
thanks to you, discovered a new appreciation for night flying. Let's meet up
soon so you can leave me again without notice. It's incredibly entertaining
refreshing.
Oliver
~*~*~*~*~*~

29 April, 1993
Oliver,
Well. I reckon you've told me, Mum. I've certainly learnt my lesson, and it'll
be a long time before I make the mistake of trying to be nice to you again.
Now I'm afraid I've got to close this letter, as nice as it was to hear from
you. Do take care, and mind your classes.
~Bill
~*~*~*~*~*~
2 May, 1993
Don't you dare try to make this my fault. That was the best birthday I have
ever had, and then poof. You disappeared without a fucking word. And a letter
doesn't count. Dammit, I miss you. I hate that you're so far away and you
wouldn't even let me say goodbye. I'm sorry. I'll try to leave you smiling next
time, just don't do that again. Please, Bill. I'm sorry.
Oliver
~*~*~*~*~*~
5 May, 1993

Oliver,
I never said a word about anything being anyone's fault. Much less about
wanting any sort of apology for your near-howler; it was a shitty thing to do,
to leave you like that, and I know it, but I can't help it if I hate seeing
that look on your face that you got at Christmas and in February, too. I
already know you miss me. You tell me in your letters, you tell me when we see
each other; do we really need to beat it in when we say goodbye, pretending
that you aren't acting like someone's just killed your favourite puppy?
Besides, I reckon you were upset enough during my visit, I didn't need to make
it any worse. At least you're cross with me instead of sniffling. I'm not sorry
that I left like that, just that I had to leave at all because it was the best
as I could see it of the bad choices I had in front of me. So go on and glower
and glare, send me nasty owls; I expected it. And when you want to talk like an
adult again, we can maybe have a real conversation.
~Bill
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