Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/278851.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Bill/Oliver
  Character:
      Bill_Weasley, Oliver_Wood, Ron_Weasley, Molly_Weasley, Arthur_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Rimming, Oral_Sex, PWP, Anal_Sex
  Series:
      Part 2 of Past_Curfew
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-10-17 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 15010
****** Rules and Broomsticks (only one is meant to be broken) ******
by juice817, semaphoredrivethru
Summary
     Oliver is out past curfew again, only this time he knows exactly what
     he's looking for.
Notes
     This is a sequel to Past_Curfew, or as we like to call it, Queer as
     Wizards.  We suggest reading that one first.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter by semaphoredrivethru
~~~*~~~
Hogwarts looked pretty much the same as it had when Bill had left it five years
earlier. The towers were still strong and tall, the windows still gleamed in
the sun, and the lawn still seemed exceptionally vibrant, even for the rainy
climate of Scotland. Even the sand of the Quidditch pitch still looked brand
new and sparkling, as though countless students hadn't landed in it over and
over again, especially when Charlie was first leaning to play real Quidditch
(because, as Bill had been told so very earnestly when his younger brother had
first joined the team, the Quidditch they always played at home was just "kids'
stuff").
Sitting next to his parents, still not entirely certain how he'd been talked
into going to the first Gryffindor match of the season, Bill idly thought how
he'd always reckoned it would be a lot longer before he came back to his old
school again. But, then again, it had been either this, or give in and let his
mum take her wand to his hair, and there really was no way he was letting her
do that. Really, he was going to have to see about having the bank lessen the
number of trips to England he had to make.
"Fred and George say that Harry's even better than last year," Molly remarked
happily. "They say that they haven't seen a Seeker as good since Charlie, even.
I always knew that boy would do well, you know, and not just because of his
beating You Know Who. I took one look at him that first day in Kings Cross and
I could see all the potential he had. Now if only he'd get Ronald to try a bit
harder, that would be wonderful. But I'm sure that this Wood boy that Fred and
George mentioned is a good part of why Harry's doing so well. He's got
potential to turn pro, I've heard, and he works the team so much that I'm
surprised the boys haven't been complaining as much as they did last year. Why,
to hear them tell it, this captain of theirs is stark-raving and won't take
anything but Quidditch for an answer..."
Bill let his mind wander, not really thinking about anything in particular as
the stands filled up around them. They were sitting fairly close to the back,
leaving room for the students, and as the Slytherin team was announced and the
kids stood up to either cheer or boo, he said a quick prayer that his brothers
wouldn't blame him for the random appearance of the family contingent. It
wasn't as though the game was for the Cup, after all, and there was very little
more embarrassing than having your mother slobber all over you in front of your
mates.
Oliver was so bloody excited, and nervous too. The first game of the season. He
had the fleeting thought that he wished Bill were there to see him, cheer him
on, and brushed it off. He'd find Bill again somehow, he had to, even though he
didn't know how he ever could. Oliver shook himself. No. No thinking about
shagging before a game. Quidditch was all that mattered right now. Shagging
could be all that mattered the rest of the time. It certainly had been for the
month or so since he'd been thoroughly deflowered.
With a laugh at his own thoughts, Oliver strode confidently out of the locker
room, stomach roiling and knees nearly water. His team followed him out and
they prepared to mount up, excitement all around them, in them. They fed each
other's excitement and nerves, winding each other up until the curtains opened
and they flew out to the cheers of the students. Oliver was nearly blinded by
the sudden sunlight after the darkness of the staging areas, so he flew
instinctively, following his team in a circuit around the pitch and then up, up
to his hoops to stand guard, ready to play.
From this far away, the Gryffindor Keeper looks almost familiar, Bill mused,
not really listening to his mother's running commentary on everything to how
nice the children looked in their uniforms to how it really was a terrible
shame that they didn't catch half of the cheating moves the Slytherins were
pulling off. Leaning back a bit to make eye contact with his father, Bill
rolled his eyes good-naturedly, only to find his gaze falling back on the
keeper. There was a lot of raw talent in the air, Bill could see, but that boy
seemed to have been born on a bloody broom as he watched to hoops, stopping the
quaffle and dodging the bludger all while shouting instructions to his team.
Bill had vague recollections of this Wood character, but not much more than the
idea of a skinny kid with far too many Quidditch magazines than school books in
his bag.
Still, there was something about Wood that reminded Bill of someone. The
shoulders, that was it; they reminded him of that kid he'd pulled outside of
the club a month and a half ago. The kid that had lied and pushed forward,
denying his virginity until after he'd fucked like... well, like nothing Bill
could honestly compare him to. It hadn't been the best fuck of his life, but
thanks to the alcohol, he just couldn't shake the feeling that there had been
something different in fucking Oliver than anyone else. Not, of course, that
he'd mentioned that part to his mates. Nigel was still taking the piss out on
him for liking "younger blokes" and offering to take him by the primary schools
the next time Bill needed a date.
There was a terrific commotion in the stands, people pointing up into the sky,
and Bill looked in time to see the two teams' Seekers flying madly about,
chasing the Snitch, which had made an unusually early appearance. But wait...
it looked like Harry was having a spot of trouble with a Bludger that he
couldn't seem to shake. Bill leaned forward, mind firmly on the surprisingly
exciting match, thoughts about his daftest choice of one-offs ever firmly put
off.
Oliver watched the bludger nearly hit Harry. "Watch yourself, Harry," he said,
and then saw the dawning horror just before Harry cried, "Wood, look out!" and
suddenly he was spinning, his broom handle shattered by the same bludger.
Oliver fought with his broom, unable to steer it at half-length, barely able to
land without falling off. He managed and stood as soon as he could, broken
broom in one hand, the other raised to shade his eyes as he watched Harry and
Malfoy chase the snitch, bludger on Harry's heels.
Cringing, Oliver imagined he could hear the bones snap as the bludger hit, but
Harry kept going, reaching with the other hand. "Go, go, go!" Oliver yelled,
waving his broken broom. He jumped and cheered as Harry landed hard, snitch in
hand.
Several rows ahead of them, Bill saw a girl with bushy brown hair point her
wand at the rogue Bludger, blasting it out of the sky. His mum was already
fussing about Harry, planning to stay at the school until he was better, just
in case there was anything he needed, because of course he'd need someone
there, and really, Harry was part of the family, now wasn't he?
Bill had a horrifying image of Molly insisting they camp out at the school for
the rest of the Quidditch season, policing the matches, and paled, holding up
one freckled hand while his dad tried to edge in and stop her before she built
up too much of a head of steam.
"Er, Mum..." Bill tried when his dad couldn't get through the tirade. "I don't
think that'll be necessary. You know Madame Pomfrey will fix him right up in no
time, and besides, it'll only embarrass him to know we saw that, and you know
it. It might be best if we pretend we just heard about it; you know how
sensitive kids can be. Besides," he added with a wry grin, "when Charlie broke
his arm in three places in his fifth year, you sent him the best biscuits ever,
and that goes a long way to helping, you know."
It took some doing and promising that he'd stick around to get a full report,
but Bill managed to convince his mother to go on home just as they were carting
Harry off the field. Ron was, of course, trailing behind, so Bill jogged up to
catch him.
"Ron!" he called. "Ron, over here!"
Oliver had started after Harry along with the rest of the team, following the
twins, when he heard a familiar voice calling out to their youngest brother.
No, he thought. Couldn't be... Oliver shook his head with a wry smile. Now he
was hearing Bill's voice when he was awake instead of just when he was
dreaming. He really needed to get shagged again. Or find Bill, he thought
wistfully.
Turning just enough to see Ron Weasley jogging toward the voice, Oliver was
sure he'd see him headed for a Weasley, and just as sure it wouldn't be his
Bill. He stopped dead in his tracks. It was his Bill. It really really was. He
turned fully around and watched the brothers talking intently, completely
unaware of the rather goofy smile on his face. Bill was here. Bill was a
Weasley, which meant Oliver would always be able to find him. Having Bill here
made up for his shattered broom. Er, almost. The smile faded as he looked at
the ruined wood in his hand.
Just as he was extracting Ron's promise to let him know what was going on as
soon as he knew himself, Bill felt awareness prickle along the back of his
neck. They were walking together, Bill bent to keep things quiet, but as they
got closer to the castle, the feeling that he was being watched got stronger.
Looking up, Bill froze and thought maybe he'd just cracked, because there were
just too damn many coincidences. Pulling a wizard at a Muggle club and having
him be his brothers' captain? Bill wanted to shake himself, but as the blood
slowly drained from his face in shock, Oliver was still standing there, broken
broom in hand.
You are so very fucked, mate, Bill's mind helpfully supplied, although it had
been suspiciously quiet the last time he'd seen the boy. If you're lucky
though, maybe he hasn't seen you.
Oliver sighed mournfully and then shook himself as Ron walked past him with a,
"Coming, Wood?"
"Yeah, be a second," Oliver said, eyes lifting to meet Bill's. The look on
Bill's face was even worse than the broken wood in his hands. Oliver absorbed
the blow and walked slowly to Bill, knowing he should let it go but unable to
stop himself. He stopped just in front of Bill and said quietly, "Hello, Bill."
Ron looked confused for a moment. "Oh. That's right, you two'd have been in
school together. Look, I'm gonna go check on Harry, 'kay? Bill, I'll meet you
later."
"Right." With effort, Bill looked away from the hurt on Oliver's face. It was
just so deep and real, but then again, it would make sense that he'd mourn his
broom, the poor kid. And it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that the
last time you saw him, the both of you were naked and smeared in spunk, now
would it, Weasley? "Go on then. Later."
Ron hurried to catch up with the procession, and Bill turned his back to
everyone, blocking Oliver's face from anyone who might be watching. "Hullo,
Ollie," he said, not really sure what else to say when they were out in the
open and Bill was certain he could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out.
"I guess," Oliver said slowly then took a deep breath. "Right. Guess I'd better
go see about Harry." Then he laughed softly, ruefully. "And then see about a
new broom." Rather than looking at how uncomfortable Bill was to see him again,
Oliver looked at the jagged edges of wood. It was hardly better. "It's been a
good broom," he finished lamely.
Bill followed Oliver's gaze and grimaced. "Rough one," he commented, and looked
over his shoulder. Nearly everyone seeing after Harry was inside, and soon
enough they'd be surrounded by everyone else leaving the stands. "Ollie, I..."
He what? Missed him? He shook his head. If he'd given more than a chagrined
thought to Oliver in even the past couple of weeks, that would have been it. "I
have to go into the village to get a room," he said at last. "I'll be back
later though. Maybe we could talk then?" He managed a smile smile, shock fading
finally.
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Right," he said again, voice dry. He'd seen the
truth in Bill's face. He shook his head and relaxed his shoulders with
conscious effort. "I meant what I wrote," he muttered. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Bill said with a wry grin. He felt like seven kinds of a
piece of shite for the whole situation, knew Oliver had to learn eventually
that a one-off didn't mean that the other bloke would necessarily want to see
him again, but at the same time, Bill remembered how attached he'd been for a
while to the first bloke who'd shagged him. "Meet me at the front doors before
dinner," he said. Somewhere nice and public so there wouldn't be too much of a
scene, but quiet enough at that time of the evening they wouldn't have to worry
too much about being overheard.
"Sure," Oliver said. He didn't believe for a second that Bill would be there,
but Oliver didn't think he'd be in the mood for dinner anyway. He let his eyes
slowly move over Bill's face, gut clenching at how much he still wanted Bill.
"I'll be there. See you then." Oliver turned and walked away, headed for the
castle, broom dragging the grass behind him.
Bill watched Oliver go, privately wondering what in the bloody hell he thought
he'd accomplish by all this. "Nothing helpful, at the very least," he muttered,
jamming his hands into his pockets and heading off toward Hogsmeade. There
ought to be enough time before dinner to get things settled, but there was one
thing extra now that he wanted to do. One little thing he needed to pick up.
~**~**~**~**~**~
Oliver sat on the front steps, the cold from the stone seeping through his
robes and jeans to freeze his arse, but he hardly noticed. He stared up at the
stars, arms looped loosely around his knees as he waited. He'd gone to see
Harry, only realising after Harry had spit the first dose of Skele-Gro all over
himself that he should have warned him, but Oliver had been distracted. Harry
would be fine; Pomfrey was brilliant. And Oliver had McGonagall's permission to
go to Diagon Alley after another broom tomorrow, as long as he didn't take any
other students or even tell them about his trip off school grounds, and as long
as he went only for the broom and came directly back. His lips curved without
humour. She certainly wouldn't have approved the trip he made six weeks ago.
He'd promised himself, during his broody afternoon, that he would have Bill
again. Bill just hadn't expected to see him today, that was obvious. But Oliver
was determined. Bill had said he was getting a room in Hogsmeade, although he
hadn't said why, and Oliver knew for certain his prey was Burrow-bred. He
snorted out a laugh at that, mostly amusement but part satisfaction. He'd be
able to find Bill again with no problem. He'd find him in the village, and
after that, Percy would keep him updated.
Pulling his legs closer, Oliver rested his chin on his knees and wondered
absently how long he should wait before giving up and going back to his dorm.
Normally, you could set your watch by Bill. In fact, he hadn't been late for
anything in years until now, as he hurried over the lawn, a long paper-wrapped
package balanced over his shoulder. It had taken longer than he'd thought it
would to get this particular item, and Bill had learned more than he ever
wanted to know in the process. It was only a favour, really. And if he'd spent
a good bit of money, then that was just because it was the best deal for it. He
saw Oliver sitting on the steps and slowed down to a brisk walk, trying to even
out his breathing. The last thing Bill needed was for the kid to think he was
looking forward to seeing him.
Even if he did look obscenely fit in his Quidditch robes earlier, making Bill
think about things he'd had no business doing with a student in the first
place.
"Hullo, Ollie," he said, stepping into the light spilling out onto the lawn
from the huge windows. "How's Harry doing?"
"He'll be fine," Oliver said. He turned his head just enough to look at Bill
and caught his breath. The older man was flushed, breath coming just a bit
harder than normal, and Oliver was reminded forcibly of their night together.
Bill had been flushed and panting as he thrust in and out of Oliver's arse.
Oliver swallowed and shifted as his jeans got tight. His voice was husky as he
continued, "Pomfrey's wicked good with bones; she's regrowing his arm and he'll
be good as new tomorrow. Well, the arm'll be fixed." Oliver smiled at Bill, the
expression slow and full of intimate knowledge having nothing to do with what
he was saying. "It'll be sore for a few days."
Oliver had been sore too. His smile widened. "I didna think you were going to
come," he said, accent thicker as he got more aroused. The smile gained a
wicked edge as Oliver added, "You were beautiful when you did, though."
Bill felt want coil lazily in his gut, tightening as Oliver's accent thickened.
He almost flirted back, almost mentioned how Oliver came enough for the both of
them, and so nicely, too. But nothing good would come of that. It was risky
enough talking to him here and now. Shifting his weight and adjusting the
bundle over his shoulder, Bill ran his hand through his hair. "Oliver..."
"Sit with me," Oliver murmured. He tightened his arms around his knees and
turned his head, looking out over the grounds again. Lips twitching, he asked,
"What's in your package?" in as innocent a tone of voice as a randy sixteen
year old boy could manage.
"I think we both know the answer to that one," Bill said wryly, but gave in and
sat next to Oliver anyhow. The stone steps were cold, and it seeped in through
the snug denim of his jeans, and Bill shivered. "Fucking cold," he muttered,
and then handed Oliver the mystery package. "Here. For you."
"I'd rather open your other package," Oliver said, accepting the paper wrapped
bundle. It was clearly a broom, and a soft smile curved Oliver's lips
unconsciously. "You didn't have to," he whispered, "but I'm grateful." His
hands ran lightly over the paper without opening it.
"Just avoid Bludgers for a while and we'll call it good," Bill said, and then
took a deep breath, rubbing his palms over his knees. Gryffindor or not, Bill
really didn't want to have to talk about that night. "Take care of yourself,
Ollie."
Oliver's throat tightened. "I'd rather take care of you," he said hoarsely,
then quickly continued, "Stay, please? I havena unwrapped it yet." Even knowing
Bill was only staying a few miles away, Oliver didn't want him to go. Not ever,
but certainly not yet. "And you havena said what you wanted to talk about."
Bill waved his hand and watched as Oliver carefully undid the ties and slowly
peeled back the paper, one layer at a time. "I think you know that, too," he
said quietly, not quite able to look directly at Oliver, instead watching his
hands unwrapping his gift.
"No," Oliver said stubbornly. Which was partly true; while he knew Bill thought
they should talk about their night he didn't know what exactly what Bill would
say. "Why won't you tell me?" But then there was no more paper, and Oliver
could see the golden engraving in the handle. "Holy fuck," he whispered.
"Bill." He raised stunned eyes to Bill's face. "It's the new Nimbus."
Oliver grabbed Bill, the broom falling to the side unnoticed as he pulled him
into a series of quick, frantic kisses, whispering "oh my god" and "thank you"
in between each press of lips but it wasn't enough, this was a Nimbus 2000, and
Oliver slung his leg over Bill's lap, using his hard grip on Bill's shoulders
to pull himself up into Bill. "Thank you. God, Bill, it's brilliant!" He kissed
him again and again, settling himself more fully and comfortably into Bill.
Hands going up automatically, Bill cupped Oliver's hips for a moment before
trying to push away his lapful of over-enthusiastic teenager. He laughed
quietly, pushing gently at Oliver's shoulders. "You're welcome, kid," he said,
grinning and looking far too pleased with himself, even though he wasn't
succeeding in freeing himself from Oliver's grasp.
"I thought maybe a Cleansweep, but god!" Oliver gave up on trying for coherence
as it finally sunk in that he was in Bill's lap. The kisses lost their frantic
edge and slowed, and Oliver's fingers tangled in Bill's hair then cupped Bill's
face. "Thank you," he whispered again, lips moving slowly now over Bill's face.
"For everything," he breathed and then finally pressed his mouth to Bill's.
For a moment, Bill relaxed into the kiss, tilting his head and tasting Oliver's
mouth and groaning softly as his body reacted instinctively to the feel of a
warm, willing body wrapped around his. And then he remembered that this was
Oliver and that they were sitting on the front steps of the school and that
this sort of behaviour would not only encourage Oliver, but it would also make
a bit of a problem out of keeping what happened before a secret.
"Ollie..." he tried, but Oliver's grip was frightfully strong, determined to
stay wrapped around Bill. "Oliver, someone will see."
"I don't care," Oliver said. He rocked his hips, rubbing himself against Bill,
moaning softly as pleasure curled through him. He'd missed this, needed this
ache, more than he'd even realised until he had it again. "I want you to fuck
me," he murmured into Bill's mouth. "I want to have your cock inside me."
Oliver swallowed and closed his eyes as he shivered. God. "I need to feel you
again."
"Fuck," Bill groaned, hands clenching. It was no fair, Oliver talking like
that. "We can't. Not again." Not that Bill could remember why it would be a bad
thing to give Oliver what he wanted. He only knew he wasn't supposed to, that
he was supposed to just give Oliver the broom and go. He was achingly hard in
his jeans, and the way Oliver was rocking in his lap, the way he was kissing,
it drove Bill mad with want. He kissed roughly down Oliver's neck, sucking
briefly before straightening and trying to push Oliver away again. "We can't,"
he repeated, more ragged than before.
"Yeah," Oliver mumbled, "we can." Oliver leaned in to follow Bill's lead,
sucking at the juncture of shoulder and neck before kissing up Bill's neck and
then adding his own touch, sucking Bill's ear lobe into his mouth. "Have to,"
Oliver said, voice a rough growl of need. He was out of control and desperate,
and Bill felt so fucking good under his hands and mouth, between his legs.
"Fuck me."
Bill cupped Oliver's arse through his robes and squeezed. God, but he wanted to
do that, wanted to drag Oliver around the corner and fuck him up against the
cold stone wall, make him shatter and moan, find out if Oliver had been
practising, if that tight, perfect arse would feel better when he was sober.
His hands tightened, and Bill was about to pull Oliver closer when he heard the
high-pitched voice of a young child from inside. The reminder of where they
were was enough, and Bill switched his grip, pushing hard until Oliver was
sprawled on the steps next to him.
"Not here," Bill said, but what he meant to say was not ever. He stood,
adjusting a ridiculously painful hard-on that he was going to have to take care
of himself since Hogsmeade wasn't exactly a gay wizard haven. He looked down at
Oliver's dazed and lust-filled face, and knew he should just tell the kid to
piss off and let it be at that, but when he opened his mouth, he heard himself
say, "Look me up in two years, Ollie." And before he could say anything else
that was completely off from what he ought to, Bill turned and walked off into
the darkness, palms itching to slide under Oliver's clothes and touch him
again.
Oliver watched him go uncomprehendingly, mind completely gone, blood racing
through his veins. Two years? Not fucking likely, two years. Oliver growled,
low sound of raging need, and curled in on himself. Slowly his heart rate
calmed as did his breathing and he began to see the wisdom in not having sex on
the front steps of Hogwarts. He laughed reluctantly. His cock was still harder
than his broom, and... his broom! Oliver scrambled to his feet, wincing. Fuck,
he was hard. But his broom! He carefully bent and picked up his beautiful new
broom. Bill had bought him the new Nimbus 2000.
Hands running over the smooth wood unconsciously, Oliver stared after Bill.
Surely it meant something that Bill had bought him the newest, best, most
expensive broom available. A slow grin spread over his face until his cheeks
hurt. He hugged the broom to his chest and spun around, then raced up to the
Gryffindor dorms to carefully put it away. He needed to find Percy. Percy knew
everything, and if you just knew how to ask, he'd tell you anything, too.
~**~**~**~**~**~
He'd been right. Oliver smirked as he dismounted then quietly but confidently
walked into Hogsmeade. It was the middle of the night and there was no one else
out, not in a small village like this. Percy didn't approve (and really, when
did he?) but Bill was staying close until Molly was sure Harry was fine. There
were only two places with rooms to let in the whole town, so even though Percy
didn't know which Bill was staying in, Oliver was confident he could find Bill.
He stopped in the centre of town and held out his hand, barely able to see the
two red hairs in his palm in the moonlight. He'd found them on his robes, and
they were going to make this so much easier.
Pointing his wand at them, Oliver murmured a charm that shot light out of the
end of it. The light shivered over his hand, then went looking for Bill. It
sped around every building in the street, and Oliver thought vaguely that this
would take ages to work in London. It circled a building down the street on his
left, then circled it again, and Oliver's heart started to race. He hurried
forward, arriving next to the building just as the light came to a stop at a
window on the corner of the second floor. Oliver ended the charm and the light
vanished. Bill was in that room, right there.
Oliver mounted his broom and slowly rose to the level of the window, grinning
widely as he saw that it wasn't all the way closed. He pushed the glass up and
climbed inside. Pushing the window shut again but for a crack of space as
before, Oliver propped his broom next to the window and stripped. Leaving his
robes on the floor next to his broom, he walked to the bed, smiling softly as
he saw Bill sprawled nude over the sheets. He slid onto the bed carefully and
then began to stroke that warm freckled skin, lips following his hands, tongue
occasionally darting out to taste. Nuzzling Bill's stomach, Oliver kept moving
down until he could nose at Bill's cock, slowly inhaling the scent of Bill that
was so much stronger here. Oliver kissed his way over the still soft flesh
until he reached the tip, and then he took the round head into his mouth and
sucked, tongue rubbing the underside experimentally.
Bill moved slowly, legs moving against the sheets in a lazy slide. He was
having the best dream, about an incubus with dark hair, dark eyes and a
slightly upturned nose, petting him with cool hands and peppering his body with
warm kisses. The incubus looked up at him with laughing eyes, so certain of a
victory, and Bill groaned softly when the head of his cock was slowly,
teasingly sucked. Of all the ways to go, Bill would gladly pick this one.
Bill's cock was slowly filling, and Oliver laughed softly around the thick
flesh. Two years, my arse, he thought smugly. Carefully he took more of Bill
into his mouth, not sure what he was doing, not wanting to mess this up. Not
this. Oliver moaned softly and wrapped his hand securely around the base of
Bill's shaft, head moving down until his lips were pressed to his fingers. He
moaned again. Bill tasted like nothing Oliver had ever had before, and he
wanted more.
The tingle of a moan vibrating along his cock pulled a long, breathy moan from
Bill. He was waking, the dream slipping away, but he didn't really notice that;
it felt so good, light and different than the suction charm-worthy blow jobs he
normally had. His hands moved, sliding over smooth and strong shoulders,
careful to avoid the incubus' wings, and up into short, soft hair, cupping and
urging for more as he lifted his hips with another groan.
Oliver swallowed so he wouldn't gag as he moved his fingers and let Bill push
all the way in, until the head of Bill's cock hit the back of his throat. He
moaned again. Bill's hands felt so good in his hair. Bill tasted extraordinary.
Oliver pulled back and let Bill's cock slide partway out of his mouth, his
tongue pressed to the increasingly hard flesh all the way. When the crown
brushed the inside of his lips, Oliver rubbed his tongue over and around the
knob of flesh and then started swallowing him down again, this time with more
confidence but no less inexperience.
When he felt the scrape of teeth, Bill hissed and woke abruptly. His first
thought was that this was a very strange sort of sneak thief, but if they
wanted his spunk, Bill was more than happy to donate this way. But then logic
set in, and he froze for a moment, not entirely willing to open his eyes for
confirmation. He wouldn't, would he? Another scrape of teeth, and Bill looked
down at Oliver's slowly bobbing head. He would.
"Oliver!" he said, voice not so much stern as sleep- and sex-roughened. "You're
not supposed to... fuck, what are you...What possessed you?"
Oliver pulled back and let Bill slip completely from his mouth, his hand going
back around the wet and glistening flesh. "You said not there," Oliver said
reasonably, eyes dancing. "And god, I needed you." That voice went straight to
his cock. Oliver looked down at the shaft in his hand and licked his lips
unconsciously. "I still need you."
His own voice was rougher now. Oliver bent and pressed his lips to the tip of
Bill's cock again and sucked.
"This has got to be breaking a law somewhere," Bill groaned, head flopping back
and eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck, Ollie, mind your teeth, would you? If you bite
my cock off, there won't be any more play for you, now would there?"
"Never done this before," Oliver muttered. "And I'm sixteen, it's no' against
any law." Oliver began licking Bill's cock in low slow swipes, exaggerating the
extension of his tongue and shooting Bill an almost sullen look. His teeth were
nowhere near Bill's cock, though. "You could just fuck me," Oliver offered.
"Then your cock would be safe." The look was nearly innocent this time. Nearly.
Bill snorted, forcibly not thinking about the sixteen-year old part. "You've a
lot to learn if you're going to dismiss foreplay like that," he said, and then
sighed. "I don't suppose I could convince you to just go on home and get
someone your own age to fuck you?" he asked, not completely certain he wanted
the answer to actually be a yes.
Oliver laughed, bending to nose at Bill's balls. "Not if you want me to learn
not to dismiss foreplay," he said dryly, then laughed again. He crawled up
Bill's body, pressing kisses randomly over freckles, making sure to touch him
as much as possible with chest and arms. "C'mon," Oliver murmured as he reached
Bill's chin and kissed it. "You want to fuck me. I want you to fuck me." He
grinned down at Bill. "You can teach me foreplay, even."
"Awfully sure about yourself," Bill growled, flipping them over. "Especially
considering I've got no business putting my cock in you." He laughed, mostly at
himself. "No matter how good it felt even when I was pissed as a fucking newt."
But this time, Bill was sober and knew precisely what he was doing, knew the
whole situation, right down to Oliver's age.
Relaxing under Bill, Oliver slid his arms around Bill's neck. "You do too," he
said, "because I'm legal, and I want your cock in me, and that's all that
matters." He tangled his fingers in Bill's hair. "Growl at me again," he
whispered. "I can feel it."
Legality, if not morality, aside for now, Bill felt a small thrill run through
him at the idea that there wasn't any sort of real authority stopping this.
He'd have had to be dead to not react to Oliver's wanton behaviour, and he'd
have been lying, too, if he said he hadn't been thinking about their night when
he'd taken himself in hand earlier, after Oliver had begged to be fucked right
on the steps of Hogwarts. He nosed up Oliver's neck and bit at his ear. "Are
you this much of a slut for the other queer boys in school, Ollie?" he growled,
smirk twisting his lips. "Do you beg to be filled then, too?"
"No," Oliver murmured, eyes closing as that growl shivered through him. "S'just
you." He arched his neck. "You make me, mmm, make me need," Oliver said, and
shifted under Bill. Wrapping one leg around Bill's, Oliver pressed up into him.
"Would you rather I didn't?" he asked. "Is it wrong?"
Bill laughed softly, kissing down Oliver's neck slowly. "I don't reckon there's
anything you can think of that hasn't already been done a few hundred times
before by someone else," he murmured, licking along Oliver's collarbone. "And
if it doesn't hurt anyone in a bad way and it's not breaking any laws," he
paused, lifting his head and winking at Oliver, "then there's nothing wrong
with any of it as far as I'm concerned." He smoothed his hands up Oliver's
sides, bringing his arms up and over his head. "And the begging is a good
thing... when it's not out in the open at your school."
Oliver blushed faintly. "That one is actually your fault, you know," he said,
eyebrow rising. He left his arms lax above his head, fingers loosely curled.
"Oh?" Bill paused, copying Oliver's arched brow. "Do tell, Ollie-boy."
"I've never begged for anything before in my life," Oliver said. "It must be
you. You smell so good, and you taste so good, and you feel so good, and I've
been wanting you again ever since I had to leave." Oliver's voice got more
husky with each word until he finally fell silent, watching Bill with heavy-
lidded eyes.
Bill grinned, a predatory expression if ever there was one. "Well," he said,
licking once up the length of Oliver's neck, "at least you've got good taste."
He kissed along Oliver's shoulder, over the swell of one flexed bicep, and
flickered his tongue at the soft skin on the inside of Oliver's elbow. "Pretty
soon, you'll see there are a lot of blokes worth begging for, though," he
added. "And if you do your homework and mind your lessons, you might be one of
them one day."
Oliver swallowed a moan. He had never imagined that he'd want someone's tongue
licking inside his elbow, or that it would send shivers down his spine when
they did. "I'll do my homework," Oliver said, "if you'll be my study partner.
And one day, I'll make you beg."
"We'll see about that," Bill said mildly, fingers lightly trailing back and
forth along Oliver's other arm. Moving down, Bill nibbled on one of Oliver's
small, flat nipples, pulling it into his mouth and sucking.
"Oh!" Oliver's fingers twitched and his breath hitched as Bill sucked. Bill
hadn't done that before. "Oh, that's, that's good." Pleasure bloomed inside
Oliver with each tug of Bill's lips and press of his tongue.
Bill smiled as he kissed the teased peak. "I know." Then he moved over to
repeat the treatment on the other nipple, growling softly as he bit down once.
Oliver tasted like skin and soap, and he smelled faintly like broom oil, making
Bill wonder if the younger man (it was easier to think of Oliver as a young man
like this, when Bill's cock was hard and he could feel Oliver's was just as
eager for attention) had flown here. Looking up, Bill shook his head at the
look on Oliver's face, thinking he ought to say something later about the
wisdom in sneaking out of school for a fuck. Later.
Running his hand along Oliver's toned stomach, Bill groaned softly at the feel
of rippled muscles. God, but he did so love athletes. Bill kissed down Oliver's
sternum, hands moving slowly along strong sides and chest.
Oliver arched under Bill's hands and mouth and then, unable to resist, moved
his arms from above his head to tangle his hands in Bill's hair again. "I love
your hair," he moaned. "And your mouth. God, your mouth feels good." It was
just lips, Oliver thought hazily. How could lips leave trails of fire down his
body? And hands, too. Strong hands, firm strokes. "Bill," Oliver whispered, and
moaned again.
Bill reached Oliver's navel and paused, cupping his hip in one hand and
brushing his freckled thumb back and forth as he nuzzled Oliver's stomach. He
wanted Oliver, wanted to taste him, take him, and Bill would have been a fool
not to take what he wanted when it was being offered to him so prettily.
Eventually, Oliver would find out that orgasms felt great no matter who was
giving them, so long as they were suitably creative, but for now...
"You make such lovely noises, Ollie," Bill murmured, and swirled his tongue
around the edge of Oliver's navel. "They go straight to my cock."
"Mine too," Oliver rasped, spreading his legs and tightening his hands in
Bill's hair. "It's the strangest thing." Oliver swallowed and moaned, breath
shuddering out. "I canna breathe right," he said, "canna think at all. Is this
normal? I feel so... god."
Purring softly, Bill rubbed his cheek against Oliver's stomach. "It's normal,"
he rumbled, and then dipped his tongue into Oliver's navel again, deliberately
copying his rimming technique with a smirk. "Sex is supposed to be brilliant,"
he went on, kissing down, along Oliver's hip, smoothing his hand down one of
Oliver's thighs. "It's supposed to make you lose control, Ollie-boy."
"You do," Oliver said. "Just thinking of you makes me itchy inside, and like
I'm melting from the inside out. Then I remember having you inside me and I
canna sit still. Your tongue is just... fuck, and your hands." Writhing, one
knee bending and lifting next to Bill's head, Oliver moaned again. "Your
voice."
"It's always nice to be appreciated," Bill chuckled. He nosed down, following
the dent of where Oliver's leg met his body and kissed the thatch of dark curls
surrounding Oliver's cock. "You're quite cute when you're squirming, you know,"
he added absently, rubbing his cheek against the hot, hard length.
Oliver gasped and lifted his hips into the caress of Bill's cheek. "Flitwick
doesna think so," he gasped. "He thinks I have some sort of medical problem."
His hands tugged at Bill's hair. "He keeps threatening to send me to Pomfrey.
Bill."
Bill lifted his head. "Hmm?" he asked mildly, the innocent look entirely ruined
by his tousled hair and the hunger in his eyes. "Was there something you
wanted?"
"Yes." Oliver tugged again. "Prat." He made a strange sound somewhere between a
moan and a laugh. "I want you. Over and over. You probably know better than I
do what I want."
Laughing back, Bill covered one of Oliver's hands with his own, squeezing
gently. "Try not to pull too hard," he said, and then, before Oliver could say
anything else, Bill lowered his head and sucked Oliver's cock into his mouth,
licking and tasting, not quite halfway down the shaft. Bill felt the round head
bump along the roof of his mouth, salty flesh and a taste he hadn't quite put
his finger on just yet other than it being Oliver's bursting over his tongue.
Fastening his lips tight, Bill sucked up, swirling his tongue and letting one
small groan rumble through him.
Oliver cried out, body arching up as pleasure exploded through his nerves. "Oh
my god," he gasped, "is this how you felt?" He couldn't breathe. Bill's mouth
wrapped around his cock was almost better than having him inside. Shivers ran
over him in waves as he fought not to pull Bill's hair out at the roots, fought
not to spill down his throat.
Bill didn't answer with words. Instead, he only sucked harder, taking more of
Oliver in, moving slowly, giving him enough of a chance to adjust. He pressed
down on Oliver's hips, holding him in place in case he got any ideas, and then
swallowed, pulling Oliver completely into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth,
grunting in satisfaction when he felt the head of Oliver's cock bump against
the back of his throat.
"Fuck!" Oliver's voice was nearly soundless, more of a gasp than a cry, and his
hips pushed against the strength of Bill's hands. He didn't get anywhere, but
he couldn't stop trying. His hands slid from Bill's hair and fisted in the
sheets on either side of himself. "Bill," he managed, "I'm gonna - I can't...
oh god." The pleasure was rolling through him in hard waves, nearly dragging
him under. "Bill."
Bill let go of Oliver's cock with a soft, wet pop, his lips red and damp as he
looked up at Oliver. "Let go if you need to," he rasped, and slowly licked the
crown before sucking on the side of Oliver's shaft. "I'm gonna fuck you either
way." Then he opened his mouth and sucked Oliver back in.
"Promise?" The air was shuddering in and out of Oliver's lungs, each breath a
near sob. "So good," he moaned, and let go.
When Oliver arched up, Bill relaxed his throat and let him move as he came with
a beautiful, almost pained-sounding cry. Bill swallowed every last bit of
Oliver's come, moaning in appreciation and enjoyment. He knew it was Oliver's
inexperience that made his reactions so much more, but it still did delicious
things to Bill to know he was driving his partner that mad. Gently, Bill licked
Oliver clean, not wasting a single drop before he moved to the side and crawled
up, kissing a slow path as he went.
"That," he growled, voice raspy, "is how you suck a cock."
Oliver laughed weakly. "I can see I'll need a lot of practice," he mumbled. He
lifted heavy arms around Bill, hands smoothing up the length of his back. "Will
you let me practice on you?" Oliver's breath left his lungs in a long, slow,
very satisfied sigh. "God, you're brilliant."
"Why thank you," Bill laughed, and kissed the upturned tip of Oliver's nose.
Confused about where that urge had come from, Bill covered Oliver's mouth with
his own, kissing him slowly, pushing his way into a warm, welcoming mouth and
sharing the leftover flavour of Oliver's come. He settled between Oliver's legs
and kept his body braced up, his cock heavy with need and almost pained from
it. "You certainly do have good taste," he murmured against Oliver's lips,
smirking as he repeated himself.
Oliver kissed Bill back eagerly in spite of the new taste in his mouth. "If you
say so," Oliver murmured. He wasn't so sure about it himself, but expected he'd
better get used to it. Especially if he wanted that practice. Lifting his hips
up to push against the hard length of Bill's cock, Oliver smiled slowly. "You
seem to have a little bit of a problem there. Can I... help?"
"I'm counting on it," Bill growled playfully, nipping at Oliver's lower lip.
The light attitude was only a front, though; Bill wanted. Being woken with his
cock in Oliver's mouth, the way Oliver squirmed and moaned, the taste of him
still in the back of Bill's throat... Bill wasn't entirely certain he'd be able
to take the time Oliver would need to be prepped properly, especially if...
"Tell me, Ollie," he said in a low voice, "have you been practising getting
fucked?"
"Hunh unh," Oliver said, shaking his head slowly. His lips brushed across
Bill's in the process. "The blokes at school are hardly worth it. But god," he
continued with a blush, "I've been wanking a lot."
Bill groaned, the mental image of Oliver like that, cock in hand, sent a
shudder through Bill's already tightly wound body. "That so?" he asked, voice
tight with need. "What about that charm of yours? Do you really know it, or
were you lying about that, too?" Bill knew the charm Oliver had mentioned, of
course, but at this point he most likely wouldn't have been able to summon his
wand, much less cast any sort of real magic. All of his focus was on how it was
going to feel once he was inside of that amazing body again, and it was only
through sheer will that he managed to keep from rushing things now, when he
knew he could still probably hurt Oliver if he wasn't careful.
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't lying," he muttered almost sulkily. He
Summoned his wand and cast the charm, then stretched under Bill, reaching out
to put the wand on the night table and shivering both from the slide of skin on
skin, the press of hot flesh against his hip, and the admittedly odd sensation
of the muscles in his arse relaxing, stretching, lubricant suddenly there,
nearly oozing out of his body.
"Just like you weren't lying about shagging before?" Bill asked, leaning to the
side and reaching between Oliver's legs. He smirked when he felt the extra
lubrication; someone had been a bit too enthusiastic in their charming. "Or
about being out of school?"
Looking away, Oliver blushed. "Well, you wouldn't have fucked me if I hadn't
lied. But those are the only things, I swear. And now I have shagged before,
once, and I only have another year of school after this one, and I'll be out."
He bit his lip and moaned softly at the feel of Bill's fingers on his arse.
"You promised you'd fuck me," he murmured, wrapping one leg around Bill's hips.
Bill thought about pointing out that he'd known Oliver was lying even then, but
being as it didn't make him look like the best sort of bloke to knowingly shag
school-aged virgins, he kept his mouth shut on the subject. Instead, he pushed
two fingers in, easily breaching Oliver, and groaning in satisfaction. "And I'm
going to," he said, almost breathless with desire.
With a couple of deft moves, he flipped them over again, Oliver sprawled across
his chest. "But you're going to have to do the work this time." It was the only
way he could think of that wouldn't have him pounding into that arse without
another thought.
"I... really?" Oliver pushed himself up, sitting astride Bill, hands braced on
his chest. "I don't know what to, er. Do." Reaching back with one hand, Oliver
curled his fingers around Bill's cock. He closed his eyes so he could feel Bill
in his hand and then scooted back a little, so he could put the head of Bill's
cock at his entrance. "Oh, that's..." Oliver's voice trailed off into a moan
and he pushed back, onto Bill, slowly taking him inside.
"You'll... oh, fuck... figure it out," Bill gasped, eyes closed and hands
twisting in the sheets as he let Oliver set his own pace. It was torture,
moving so slowly, but Bill just bit his lip and arched his back, breathing hard
through his nose as he felt every last ridge and bump of his cock slide into
Oliver. "God... brilliant."
"Yes." Finally Oliver's arse came to rest on Bill's thighs, Bill firmly and
fully inside. Oliver was panting, mouth slightly open and eyes closed. "Wow,
that's..." Oliver's head fell forward and he moaned again. He stayed still as
long as he could stand it, then he braced his hands on Bill's chest and lifted
himself slowly up again, Bill slipping from his body. Not willing to let him
out completely, Oliver stopped himself as the head of Bill's cock reached his
entrance, and then he relaxed his legs, taking Bill in again just a little
faster.
Bill groaned, long, low and ragged, and twitched his hips up to meet Oliver.
"That's... that's it," he managed, struggling to open his eyes again, watching
Oliver move in the dim moonlight filling the room. His gut tightened and need
twisted through his gut, and Bill slid his palms up Oliver's lightly-haired
thighs and up to his hips, fingers hard on the muscled flesh. Fuck, but Oliver
was gorgeous, and Bill couldn't help but groan again as he licked his lips;
Oliver's cock was half-hard again already, slowly rising between them, his
abdomen taut and his legs fairly shuddering with tension. "Keep going, Ollie.
God, don't stop."
"Won't stop," Oliver breathed. "Can't stop. Oh god." And he didn't, but he
didn't move much faster, either. He was too caught up in the way it felt to
control the sex, to have Bill sliding in and out but on his, Oliver's, terms.
He sat fully upright, using only the muscles in his legs to maintain his steady
pace. His hands moved to wrap around his cock and cup his balls and Oliver
stroked himself, much as he had for the past several weeks. The difference was,
of course, Bill's cock in his arse, his body between Oliver's legs. "Bill," he
moaned, "it's so good."
Before the pleasure had swamped him so quickly Oilver hadn't been able to enjoy
the way it felt as it built and spread, had only felt the explosion and loved
it. Now he let it fill him slowly, the tension growing steadily. He shivered.
"Fuck," Bill gasped, eyes riveted on Oliver's hands as he touched himself. His
eyes were heavy, but there was no way Bill could stop watching Oliver like
this, riding and wanking and oh fuck it was good, so much better than the last
time. He groaned, pushing up with a grunt to meet Oliver, trying to speed
things up. "More," he growled, hands switching to grab at the sheets, his back
bowing.
Oliver hummed absently in agreement. He was completely caught up in the
brilliant way he felt. He tugged harder on his cock and groaned. Fuck! It was
so amazing, the difference it made having something inside him. Bill, inside
him. His muscles clenched on Bill and suddenly he needed more. He squeezed Bill
again, on purpose this time, and groaned. "More," he agreed, tightening his
hands on his cock as he started moving faster. He let his weight drop him down
hard on Bill instead of controlling the motion and cried out. "So bloody good,"
Oliver mumbled, and he did it again.
Bill moaned, his eyes falling shut as he writhed and pushed up again and again.
Oliver squeezing around him, fucking himself harder and faster, sliding up and
down and driving Bill mad... it was almost more than he could take, and Bill
gasped brokenly, lost in sensation. "Harder," he panted, demanded. "Faster,
Ollie. Fuck yourself."
"Okay," Oliver moaned, unable to refuse Bill anything. He let go of his cock
and braced his hands on Bill's chest again so he could move faster, fuck
himself harder. "Bill," he moaned, "fuck, Bill, it's so..." Making a garbled
noise, Oliver moved even faster, letting the shove of Bill's hips up help him
as he dropped down, almost bouncing on Bill as the hard slap of their flesh
together echoed in the room over their panting breaths. Sweat was rolling down
his nose, dropping to Bill's chest as his head hung limply, his eyes closed,
his body awash in new sensation.
"Yes..." Bill hissed, blindly grabbing Oliver's cock and stroking for him.
Gooseflesh prickled all over, and he was close, so close, but he didn't want to
give in yet, didn't want to stop, to let this feeling end. He was fucking
flying, the moans coming out of his mouth damn near pornographic, not that he
could hear them over the roaring in his ears. "Oli... Oliver," Bill managed,
squeezing his cock, thrusting up into him harder.
Bill's hands on his cock proved too much for Oliver. The sounds Bill was making
were obscenely beautiful. "Bill," he gasped, "I can't -" Oliver hissed on a
rush of air as he lost the last thread of control and gave in, grinding down on
Bill as he shook helplessly and spilled over Bill's hands and stomach.
At the same time, Bill whimpered breathily, body going stiff as he was squeezed
and milked and came, so hard that his eyes rolled back and his lungs stopped
working and all he could do was come and gasp and thank god for adventerous
near-virgins that didn't take no for an answer. "Great bleeding fucking hell,"
he gasped, shuddering again.
Oliver collapsed on Bill's chest, blood and heart still racing, and snickered
weakly. "Yeah," he mumbled. He kissed Bill's chest and sighed. "I think I'm
beginning to understand why you like foreplay." He laughed softly again.
Bill chuckled and wrapped loose arms around Oliver. "Such an eager student," he
said, and sighed. "Speaking of, oughtn't you be getting back to school?"
"Nope," Oliver said smugly. He settled himself on Bill's chest, arms folded and
chin resting on them as he gazed down at Bill. "Our Seeker's out for at least
the weekend, so no practice. And no class until Monday." Oliver raised his
eyebrows meaningfully at Bill. "Nowhere I have to be for days."
Shaking his head at Oliver's brashness, Bill traced the ridge of Oliver's
spine. He'd followed that path the last time with lips and tongue, and Bill
smiled faintly at the memory. But it also reminded him that this was all the
experience with sex Oliver had ever had, and that, legal or not, Bill was too
old to be fooling around with someone this age. Not when Oliver had so much to
learn.
"What?" Oliver asked, eyes closing slightly in pleasure at the feel of Bill's
fingers moving up his back. "I don't. We can sleep for a bit, and then we can
do this again." He laughed. "And again, and again."
"You're a lot of fun, Ollie," Bill said in a heavy voice. "But... Well, you
can't tell me there aren't other queer boys at school."
Oliver's smile faded. Fun? "Maybe there are," he admitted grudgingly. "I don't
want them." He moved his arms, kissed Bill's chest. "I thought you liked -" me
"- it."
"I do," Bill said. "It's brilliant fun, but you really ought to be doing these
sorts of things with your mates. Or at least a moderately attractive kid your
own age. Not..." He flattened his hand and splayed it across the small of
Oliver's back, warm and heavy, "that I'm not enjoying reaping the benefits,
because I am."
"Why?" Oliver asked, honestly confused. "They don't know what they're doing,
either. But you..." Oliver smiled smugly. "You know exactly."
Bill laughed, flattered. "And I'm gone most of the time on another continent,
living on my own and doing adult things with other adults while your mum still
buys your pants for you," he said, arching an eyebrow in challenge.
Oliver turned bright red. "Only because she gets them with my school robes," he
muttered. The rest of Bill's sentence sunk in and Oliver scowled slightly,
still blushing. "What adult things are you doing?" He felt irrationally
jealous. He knew Bill wasn't his, not after only two fucks, but he still felt
as if they belonged to each other.
"Fucking, Oliver," Bill said, more gently than he probably ought to.
Oliver's scowl deepened. He didn't ask who, though he desperately wanted to.
"Well, you can fuck me," he said sullenly. "I can be better than them."
"Sure you can," Bill said, barely resisting the urge to ruffle Oliver's hair.
"But not if you don't practise. Who knows, maybe you'll surprise me." Really,
Bill didn't expect Oliver to spare him much thought after he was gone a few
weeks, but if it helped now...
Besides, it was fun to think of the possibility of them meeting up again one
day. Even if Oliver's uncensored reactions would been worn smooth by experience
by then.
"I only want to practise with you," Oliver said, giving Bill a look full of
hurt before moving, letting Bill slip from his body with a slight wince before
climbing off. Walking a bit awkwardly, Oliver headed nude for the window,
bending to gather his pants and robes, then reluctantly deciding he should
dress before he left. All things considered.
"Oliver..." Bill sighed, his bloody Gryffindor sense of fair play getting to
him. He stood and walked over, curling one of his hands over a tense and
miserable shoulder. "You're too young to be fucking just one person, especially
me," he said intently. The kid needed to understand this, Bill needed to nip
this in the bud, but at the same time, Bill was hating himelf for being seven
kinds of an arse for hurting Oliver. When did I care that much about a shag,
anyhow? "Hell, I can't even make that work, and I'm six years older. Save
yourself the headaches, kid."
Oliver shrugged off Bill's hand. "Age has nothing to do with it," he said, and
tugged his robes on over his head.
Bill scowled. "Oh really? And what does?" he asked, irritated now.
"The way you feel," Oliver said quietly. "You're just fucking around and don't
care about any of them. Us. Any of us." Oliver shrugged his shoulders again so
that his robes fell correctly and curled his hand around his broomstick,
pulling it close. "Thank you for my broom," he said. He knew he should just go,
but instead he stood and drank in the sight of Bill, nude and covered in spunk.
He was beautiful.
"I'm not going to ask you to the Yule Ball, you know," Bill said, rolling his
eyes. "Hell, we didn't even know last names until twelve hours ago, Wood, so
don't expect me to get down on one knee and..." He stopped himself, seeing the
heartache behind Oliver's eyes. "Would you rather I made all kinds of false
promises?" he said instead, voice softer now. "That I say I'd only fuck you if
you only fucked me, and then made a point of not letting you find out about
what I do while I'm away? We're not a couple, Oliver, but we could be mates if
we're honest with each other for a change."
"No," Oliver said, "I don't want false promises. I might be a kid, but I'm not
stupid." He smiled faintly and reached out, trailing the fingers of one hand
over Bill's chest. "You're too good at this not to be doing it while you're
away." He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist, fingertips still
tingling. He sighed. "Sorry. I know we're not a couple. I'd like to be mates,
though." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and his heart still hurt, but
Oliver was determined to show Bill he could at least act like a grown-up.
Bill snagged Oliver by the wrist and pulled him closer. He ought to turn the
kid around and send him on home, Bill knew. But instead, he pried gently at
Oliver's fist, losening the curl of fingers and tried to get Oliver to relax.
"C'mon," he murmured, nosing along Oliver's ear. "I thought you were staying
the night?"
Oliver stayed rigid for several seconds before relaxing into Bill with another
sigh. He knew he should go but he couldn't resist the chance to have Bill
again, just one more time. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind," Oliver
murmured back. He laughed softly, wryly. "Muggles call it 'friends with
benefits,' yeah? Is that what you want?"
"Sure," Bill said absently, slowly unfastening Oliver's robes. "So long as no
one finds out I've been contributing to the deliquency of an under-aged
wizard."
"Right." Oliver's lips twisted, and his head fell back so he could stare at the
ceiling until his expression smoothed out. He understood, really he did, that
it was smarter not to tell anyone, that while he didn't think age had anything
to do with it others would, but fuck. That hurt.
Oliver finally put his broom back against the window frame, freeing his hands
to curl through Bill's hair. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm not
delinquent." Then he tugged, bringing Bill's mouth to his own. He'd take
whatever Bill would give and be grateful, he decided, ignoring the ache that
curled through him at the thought.
"Hmm... maybe not," Bill said. "Delicious, though," he added with a lick to
Oliver's bottom lip. "And at times, even delightful." He just wanted to
distract Oliver, let him get past the sting of rejection, so that when he
realised one day that Bill, while good, wasn't the best fuck he'd ever have, he
could walk away more whole and less hurt than Bill had when his own first had
ditched him on the last day of school, right on the train platform in
Hogsmeade.
Oliver smiled in spite of himself. "Delightful?" he said with a smirk. "That's
a new one." He stroked his hands through Bill's hair and then pet his neck and
shoulders. "You're a little dirty," he murmured, and scratched his fingers
lightly through the flaking mess on Bill's stomach.
Bill chuckled, pushing Oliver's robes off his shoulders. "My mind's even
dirtier," he said against Oliver's throat, and then nipped at the smooth skin.
He was rapidly becoming addicted to the taste of Oliver, but Bill would just
have to deal with that later. He stepped back, hands sliding away last as he
smiled temptingly. "I think I'll take a shower," he said, keeping eye contact
for a moment longer, sauntering over to the loo. He tossed a heated look over
his shoulder when he reached the door, and wondered if Oliver would know that
for the invitation it was.
***** Chapter 2 *****
~~~*~~~
Swallowing hard against a suddenly dry mouth, Oliver stepped out of his robes
again and followed as if mesmerised. "We should conserve water," he said
absently, reaching out to run his fingers over the curve of Bill's arse.
"We should," Bill agreed, turning on the water and stepping under the warm
spray. His hair turned dark as it soaked up the water, plastered against his
skull and down between his shoulderblades, rivulets of water running down the
long, lean lines of his body as he turned and smirked at Oliver. "Get my back,
Ollie?"
Always, Oliver thought wistfully, then shoved it away. "Absolutely," he said
instead and stepped into the shower, hands following the trails of water over
Bill's body. One hand reached further and cupped Bill's balls then stroked up
his cock. "Turn around," Oliver murmured with an answering smirk.
Bill groaned and laughed at the same time, affectionately kissing the very tip
of Oliver's nose before turning around obediently. "It's only fair to warn you,
though," he said with a smile, "I'm still going to need a bit of a rest before
I'll have it in me to put it in you again."
Oliver grabbed the soap and worked up a handful of lather before smoothing it
over Bill's back. "I'm sure you'll be fine by the time we're clean again,"
Oliver said on a laugh. He stepped close and slid his arms around Bill, rubbing
soapy hands over Bill's stomach. He nosed along Bill's spine. "Or we could just
go back to bed. Sleep."
"Will you actually be there when I wake up this time?" Bill teased, brushing
his fingers over the back of Oliver's soapy hand.
"No practice tomorrow, I told you," Oliver said, blushing a little. "God, I was
almost late. I'm the captain, I can't be late to my own practice."
Laughing, Bill leaned back against Oliver. "Your team would've dropped over
from shock," he said. "As far as Fred and George can see, you probably think
about quidditch sunup to sundown. Me, though, I'm sure there's more than that
on your mind, yeah?"
Oliver laughed. "Only after sundown," he said, hands creeping down to curl
around Bill's cock again, squeezing and stroking the soft flesh. He kissed the
middle of Bill's back and rested his forehead there. "But yeah, I'd've never
heard the end of that. Little out of breath when I got there, but I got there
before your brothers did."
"Lucky that," Bill commented idly, threading his fingers with Oliver's free
hand and impusively holding it close.
"Mmm," Oliver agreed, curling his fingers over and around Bill's. "Take the
mickey out of me, they would. Have they always been that way?" Oliver started
kissing down Bill's spine, occasionally sucking at the knobs of bone, moving
slowly but surely down.
"Always," Bill said lazily, head tilting forward into the spray. "What're you
up to back there, Ollie?"
"Nothing," Oliver said, smiling widely. "Nothing at all." He went to his knees
and nosed at the top of Bill's crease. "Good thing I'd already learned to
Apparate."
Bill groaned softly, surprised that Oliver would actually do this, but widened
his stance anyhow, and turned down the spray of water just a bit. "You're not
supposed to get your license for another year," he said. "Breaking all sorts of
rules, weren't you?"
Oliver shrugged. "Your brothers would say that rules are meant to be broken.
And it's not like I had a choice, ye ken. I never would have made it on time
through the Floo." Arm stretched up to leave his hand in Bill's, Oliver used
the other to spread Bill open a little. His voice was husky as he hesitantly
asked, "Do, do ye like this?" and then kissed the small wrinkled hole.
"Yes," Bill breathed, leaning forward a bit, bracing his free hand against the
shower wall and exposing more of himself as his cock gave a small twitch of
interest. It took several long seconds for him to remember what they'd been
talking about, and when Bill spoke again, his voice was a bit more ragged than
before. "Underage drinking, sneaking out of school, unlicensed Apparation...
you're a bad boy, Ollie."
"You're the one who gave me the drink," Oliver said mildly. "Not that I had
much." He stuck out his tongue and stroked the flat of it over Bill's entrance.
"It was past time," he said, "and definitely worth it." Firming his tongue, he
pushed it into Bill's body, just a little, pulled out, and pushed in again.
The hand holding Oliver's dropped a bit and Bill grunted at the intrusion.
"God," he said, and leant forward more.
"Oliver," Oliver said with a smirk. He tugged his hand free so he could spread
Bill's cheeks wide and shove his tongue in farther. With more enthusiasm than
finesse, Oliver began to fuck Bill with his tongue, making obscene noises as he
did.
Cheeky little bastard. The thought went through Bill's mind, but the words only
came out as a breathy moan. For what he lacked in skill and experience, Oliver
certainly made up for in desire, and Bill could feel his cock starting harden
again already. "Oliver," he groaned finally, deliberately drawing out the name
as he pushed back for more.
Oliver hummed in response, tongue steadily rubbing in and out. His hand crept
forward, fingers curling around the slowly firming flesh they found. Doing this
was almost as good as having it done. Oliver felt his own cock filling and
lengthening, and he hummed again. He loved Bi- this. This. His fingers
tightened on Bill and he shoved his tongue in harder.
Bill cried out softly, neck arching and head going back. "Brilliant," he
gasped, shaking and tensing around Oliver's tongue.
Pulling his tongue free, Oliver began kissing Bill's back again, frantic
sucking kisses that started where his tongue had been and didn't end until he
bit Bill's shoulder. "Please," he whispered, pressing himself hard to Bill's
back. "Please, fuck me."
For a moment, a long moment, Bill was tempted to turn around and just fuck
Oliver against the wall. But he was still weak at the knees from their last go
'round, and wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to stay upright if he tried.
Instead, he turned around and captured Oliver's mouth in a hot, devouring kiss,
their teeth clacking once as their tongues tangled and Bill dragged them out of
the shower, spray left going behind them. Slowly, fumbling, they made their way
back to the bed, and Bill reached down to find Oliver still slick and loose.
Hopefully loose enough. He guided Oliver down onto the bed, stretching out atop
him, hands petting his face and sides, his cock nearly hard enough now to give
Oliver what he wanted.
Oliver mewled and wrapped himself around Bill. "Yes," he murmured, "god,
please." Arching his hips, Oliver rubbed his cock against Bill's stomach,
letting the need swamp him again. Giving himself over completely to Bill again.
Bill positioned himself right at Oliver's entrance, and paused as he found just
enough sense to lean forward and whisper in Oliver's ear, "Tell me if I hurt
you, gorgeous. S'not supposed to hurt if you don't want it to." And then,
without waiting for an answer, Bill pushed in, gasping at how tight Oliver had
gotten already.
Oliver's mouth fell open and he stopped breathing. Good. So fucking good, and
the stretch was almost too much which made it perfect. And Bill called him
gorgeous. Time seemed to slow, the entire universe waiting with Oliver as Bill
worked himself in and then it started up again with a rush when Bill slid
completely home. Oliver could hear the blood roaring through his veins and the
air rushing into his lungs again, and he dug his fingers into Bill's back. He
moaned, feeling drunk with the pleasure of having Bill again. I'm addicted, he
thought absently, and grinned.
Back and forth with slow, deep strokes, Bill went, unable and unwilling to move
any faster. He moaned along with Oliver, mouth open against his neck, and then
struggled to breathe again. The pleasure wrapped around him, pulling him into
Oliver, made him want to move deeper, further, merge them into one because he
knew it would be the most amazing sensation of his life. "You feel so good," he
breathed softly, even though it always felt good, so why point it out? But this
time it was all over Bill, around him, possessing him, and all he could do was
moan again, kissing Oliver's pulse point as he pushed in again, grinding his
hips as they met. "So fucking good."
"Yeah," Oliver agreed breathlessly, lifting into each slow thrust, neck arching
under Bill's mouth. "Better than flying." One hand crept up into Bill's hair,
cradling his skull and holding him close. "S'brilliant."
Bill moved slowly, steadily, whispering words of praise in between his quiet
moans, not fully recognising his voice as his own. All he knew was that while
he was engulfed in the pleasure, the need for more, the tight coil that always
pushed for harder, faster, now, was tightening so very slowly. He could feel
the gradual build, and it made him shudder deliciously, rotating his hips and
pushing back in again.
Oliver was lost in the steady thrusts, the quiet murmurs of Bill's voice, the
slowly growing pleasure. This is making love, he thought dizzily. It was just
as fantastic as fucking, and completely different. Smiling, Oliver guided
Bill's mouth to his for repeated light, easy kisses, murmuring his pleasure
back to Bill as their lips brushed. He knew he could stay right here like this
with Bill forever.
"Ollie," Bill gasped, moving to meet Oliver's kisses, the shift pushing him
somehow deeper, and nerves all over Bill's body tingled, the need doubling in
that instant. From pure reflex, Bill changed angle, seeking the nub of Oliver's
prostate, and groaning in quiet triumph when he found it.
Oliver cried out as stars exploded in his head. "Bill," he moaned, hitching his
legs higher around Bill, locking his ankles at the small of Bill's back. His
hands tightened in Bill's hair, the kisses more urgent as the pleasure grew
exponentially with each pass of hard flesh over that spot inside him. "Bill."
There was something in the way Oliver said his name that pushed Bill higher,
and his eyes opened just enough for him to look down and see Oliver's face,
lost in the same pleasure that had taken over Bill as well. "Gorgeous," he
breathed, and then pushed harder and deeper than before with a long moan.
"Bill?" Oliver's voice shuddered out as his breath did, body arching with the
stronger thrust. So good, it was so good, it was perfect. Pleasure coiled
around his spine and crept up, sparking in his brain every time Bill pushed
into him. Oliver felt the newly familiar rush of need in his stomach that meant
he wouldn't last much longer. No, he thought, not yet. Not yet.
"Right here," Bill thought, maybe he spoke, he wasn't sure. "I've got you,
Olllie. I've got you." His head was too heavy to hold up any longer, and Bill
bowed to touch their foreheads together as they moved.
Oliver couldn't hold it back and started to pant, small needy sounds spilling
out of his mouth with nearly each rush of air. His hand shifted forward to cup
Bill's cheek. Keep me, he thought. I'm yours. What he said was, "I need ye."
His body tightened on Bill's on the next inward thrust, as if trying to keep
him there, and Oliver moaned again.
"Right here. Oh god," Bill moaned again, his scalp prickling and his orgasm
irrevocably near now. "Oh god, Oliver, so close. Come for me, Oliver. So
gorgeous when you come..."
"Yes. For you," Oliver breathed, barely audible. He forced his eyes open to
look at Bill, so very close, so very beautiful, and gave in. His eyes drifted
shut again as Bill pushed in, and in, and one more and Oliver gasped as he
came, his body jerking up into Bill as his nerve endings exploded.
One more thrust into Oliver's clenching body and Bill was lost, mouth working
open and closed over and over again as he came as well, spilling with an almost
triumphant cry. He felt like he was flying, only there was no crash when it
ended, only a slow and gradual release. Shaking, Bill let himself collapse,
barely rolling to the side in time. That was.... different.
Oliver could feel the satisfied grin stretching across his face as his lungs
stopped heaving. He hummed and rolled as well, curling into Bill's chest with a
sigh, eyes still shut. "We're dirty again," he mumbled. "S'brilliant."
"Shower... later..." Bill mumbled and yawned, pulling Oliver into his arms and
curling around him. "Sleep now."
"'Kay," Oliver whispered. His whole body felt loose and heavy, and Oliver
thought he could happily just stay right here for the rest of his life. "Be
here in the morning," he promised absently, letting himself start to drift off.
"Thanks."
Bill snorted weakly in laughter. "S'a good thing I'm leaving on Monday," he
mumbled, not meaning to speak at all. "You'd kill me by Tuesday."
Oliver's eyes popped open at that. "Monday?" he asked softly, lying very still,
feeling suddenly nowhere near sleep.
"Mmm..." Bill said, nuzzling close. "Back to work. Back to Egypt. Least, until
the bank brings me back here again."
"Oh." Oliver hesitated, then said, "D'you know when that'll be?" Egypt. Oliver
frowned.
Bill made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat. "Month or two?" He
yawned, jaw popping.
"Oh," Oliver said again, voice even smaller. He closed his eyes as they started
to sting, and slowly inhaled, breathing in the scent of Bill and them, trying
to memorise it. "Well. I'll write."
"Mmm... nice of you," Bill mumbled and then snuggled closer. "Can I go to sleep
now, Ollie? You've worn me out with that body of yours..."
"Go to sleep," Oliver murmured. "I want to wear you out again in the morning."
 
~**~**~**~**~**~**~
 
Oliver was a little sore and walking just a little strangely as he crept into
the Gryffindor dorms on Sunday. He thought everyone would be eating and he
could just go to bed again, alone this time, and be ready to at least pretend
everything was fine in the morning.
He'd almost made it to the stairs to the boys' rooms when he was caught by a
hand at the scruff of his neck and he yelped, sure it was McGonagall and he was
going to be expelled.
"Wood," a voice said, "Funny finding you here instead of filling your
bottomless gut in the Great Hall like normal."
"Angelina," Oliver said with disproportionate relief. "I'm, er, m'not hungry,
really." He turned to face her as she let go and gave her a smile.
She put her hands on her hips and stared hard at him. "What have you been
doing? You look guilty."
He couldn't help himself. He grinned, knew as he did that it was the most
ridiculous expression he'd ever worn, and said, "Nothing bad."
Eyes widening, Angelina grabbed the sleeve of his robes and dragged him to the
sofa, then shoved him so he sat, and curled up on the sofa next to him, tucking
her lugs under and puliing her skirt over her knees. "Spill," she demanded.
"I, er, yeah," Oliver said, smile widening. "I was just with my boyfriend, is
all."
For a minute, Angelina just sat there with her jaw hanging open before she
recovered and laughed, shoving Oliver playfully. "Fine, don't tell me then,"
she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "I've only spent all day covering for
you since I saw you sneak out last night."
"No, really!" Oliver protested. "Was there, er, a lot of covering? Thanks, Ang,
I owe you so much." He sighed and relaxed into the sofa, the goofy grin coming
back. "God."
Angelina just waved her hand, suspicious glare dialed down as she started to
wonder if Oliver wasn't having her on after all. "I told them you were off
having a sulk about your broom..." Her eyes went to the new broomstick in
Oliver's hand, and her mouth fell open a second time in as many minutes.
"That's a..." she said, awe filling her voice. "Wood, where did you get that?!"
His face was starting to hurt from the wide grin that just wouldn't go away.
"He bought it for me," Oliver said quietly, still awed. "He saw the game, and
saw what happened, so he just... got it." Oliver ran his hands over the smooth
length of the wood again.
"You're serious," she said, sitting back in shock. There was no way Oliver's
parents would have given him enough money for a Nimbus, because most parents
just didn't understand the importance of a good broom. But a boyfriend, a good
boyfriend would, or so Angelina liked to think. Not that she'd had a boyfriend
like that, and Lee didn't count because he was just too... well, he was Lee.
Her eyes filled with hurt as she looked at her best friend. "You didn't tell me
you had a boyfriend."
"He wasn't, not until yesterday!" Oliver let go the broom with one hand and
curled it around her hand, squeezing. "I mean, we had sex before, but yesterday
was just different. He's brilliant, Ang. Just bloody fucking brilliant all the
way 'round."
"Really?" She chewed on the tip of her tongue, thinking. But they weren't best
friends for nothing, so she decided to believe him. "So who is he? What house
is he in?" She scowled, thinking about who would have the kind of Galleons to
spend on a broom. "He's not a bloody Slytherin, is he?"
Oliver gave her the look that deserved. "I wouldna trust a snake enough to
sleep wi' him," he said indignantly. "No, he was Gryffindor when he was here.
All the Weasleys are Gryffindors, it's like a rule, or something." Oliver
looked at her out of the corner of his eye, blushing, wondering what she'd
think of everything. Of Bill.
Angelina leaned forward, her eyes wide. "Was?" she asked. "A Weasley? But...
but Charlie Weasley always..." She ducked her head, embarrassed. "Damnit, and I
always had a thing for him, too."
"Not Charlie," Oliver said gently. He squeezed her hand again. "Bill. It's Bill
Weasley." He felt something in his heart lurch just saying his name, just
telling someone else. "But," he added painfully, "we can't tell anyone yet. It
has to stay quiet."
Angelina sucked in a surprised gasp. "Oliver..." she breathed, leaning in with
an earnest look. "He's old." She paused, thinking again. "Is that why you can't
tell anyone?"
Oliver nodded miserably. "He's afraid he'll be in trouble because I'm sixteen,
I think." Sighing again, Oliver added, "Besides, he has to go back to Egypt
anyway." He shrugged, already missing Bill terribly. "I don't think he's that
old," he added absently.
It was her turn to be comforting, so Angelina patted Oliver's hand and scooted
closer. "That's rubbish," she said. "You're old enough to date whoever you
want, even if he is really old and is all the way off in Egypt. What's he doing
there and not here, anyhow?" A good boyfriend should be there, as far as
Angelina was concerned.
"That's what I said, but he says he doesn't want anyone to know he's
contributed to the delinquency of a minor." Oliver rolled his eyes. "And it's
work. He works there." Oliver realised suddenly that he had no idea what Bill
did. He'd have to ask Percy. Well, it's not like we talked about his job, he
thought. Still. Wait. Percy had said his eldest brother... "Works for
Gringott's," Oliver said.
Lips compressed disapprovingly and head twitching to the side a bit, Angelina
rolled her eyes. "Well, I reckon if he works for the bank, he ought to be
careful about those sorts of things," she said, not entirely believing it
herself. But Oliver really did have a dreamy look on his face, and it wouldn't
do any good to cause trouble now.
"That's complete shite and you know it," Oliver said. "If two people love each
other it doesn't matter." Oliver thought that if he said it often enough, it
might even be true.
Angelina's eyes softened and she clasped her hands together over her heart.
"Really?" she asked. "Oh my god, you have got to tell me what it's like! Is it
really like they say?"
Oliver laughed. "Well, that would depend on what they say, now, wouldn't it?"
He settled back, relaxing, eyes going softer as he thought about Bill. "It's
the most amazing thing in the whole world, even better than flying."
"Nuh-uh," she said, and twisted around, leaning back against Oliver, looking up
at the ceiling. "Nothing's better than flying. Not even love."
"I promise," Oliver said softly. He laughed. "This is me, Angie, saying it's
better than flying. It's..." His voice trailed off as he thought, then he
finished, "it's a different sort of flying, I guess." He smirked. "With an even
better broomstick."
Angelina rolled her eyes and elbowed him. "So it's the same for the sex, then?"
she asked, sitting up and sticking her tongue out at him.
"The sex is brilliant." Oliver laughed again. "It's a little scary, at first,
because god." He shook his head. "It's just so, so, I don't know. Huge. The
feelings." Oliver gestured helplessly. "It just grows and grows and grows until
you explode. I mean, the first time went so fast and then I had to go, but this
time... We did it four times." The goofy grin was back.
"Four times?" Angelina sat back, clearly impressed. "Wow. How did you meet him
anyway? And does Charlie fancy girls? Because that would be the most wicked
double date ever."
"I met him in London a few weeks ago." Oliver nudged her. "You remember, I told
you I went to that club. And then I was almost late to practice the next day? I
didn't actually go in the club, because just as I was going in he came out and
we went to his hotel instead. And then, I told you, he came to the game to see
us." Oliver didn't mention that Bill hadn't known who he was until after the
game. "Mrs Weasley wanted to be sure Harry was okay, so she made Bill get a
room in Hogsmeade for the weekend. But he has to leave for Egypt tomorrow."
Oliver shrugged, giving Angelina a smile. "I don't know about Charlie. I can
ask Bill, if you like. We're going to write. A double date would be wicked,
definitely."
"It was Bill that night? Wow," Angelina sighed. "And now you're together, and
in love, and it's just so completely not fair that you get all this romance and
you're a sodding boy, while all I've got is bloody Lee Jordan trying to get a
peak at my knickers!"
"Oi! Boys need romance too. Some of us," Oliver said, and laughed. He sobered
quickly. "We aren't together, though, and it completely sucks. He's going off
to Egypt -" to do adult things with other adults "- and I'm stuck here for a
whole 'nother year after this one." Oliver shoved away the little voice trying
to remind him that they weren't a couple and that Bill was planning to fuck
other people. Bill loved him, he was sure. Just didn't know it yet. Bill had
bought him a Nimbus 2000, hadn't he? And woken him up to have sex and then
jumped him again before he left. Oliver shifted where he sat. He could still
feel Bill down there. "Just letters, is all, until he comes back."
"But he will be back," she said, grabbing Oliver's hand and squeezing it.
"You're here, anyhow."
"He said maybe a couple months," Oliver said sadly. Two months was forever. And
Oliver had to admit, if only to himself, that Bill hadn't said anything about
seeing him then, either. Surely Bill would want him to meet up somewhere.
Seeing Oliver so miserable, Angelina curled up against him again. "The course
of true love never did run smooth," she quoted softly. They sat there for a
moment or so before she craned her head around, serious for a moment. "But just
so you know, if he hurts you, I'll hex his bollocks off."
Oliver smiled. "Thanks," he said softly, grinning. "Check with me first,
though, I might still want to use them."
"That's gross, Wood," she said, face screwed up in mock disgust. "Let's talk
about something other than your sex life. Like, when are you going to let me
take that beauty of yours out for a fly about the castle?"
"I like my sex life," Oliver said mildly. "You'll like my sex life too, because
it means you can take the broom now." He laughed. "Be careful, though. It's the
most important thing I own now."
"Really?" Angelina sat up, excited. "You're the best!" Wrapping her arms around
him, she kissed his cheek hard just as the portrait hole opened at the far end
of the room. "I need to change; be back in a tick!" And then she was gone,
hurrying up to the girls' dorm to put on trousers and to get her flying robes.
Oliver laughed as he watched her go. Part of him hadn't wanted to let her use
his broom, because it was a gift from Bill and wicked expensive, but she was
his best mate and she understood and she'd be careful. He hoped.
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