Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/279010.
  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:
      Bondage, Anal_Sex
  Series:
      Part 6 of Past_Curfew
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-17 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 11467
****** This is Not a Valentine ******
by juice817, semaphoredrivethru
Summary
     A couple of days after his conversation with Nigel, Bill finds
     himself taking an unscheduled trip home.
Notes
     Originally posted November 5, 2006.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter by semaphoredrivethru
~~~*~~~
Oliver paced at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Bill. It was only a
little past ten thirty, but he'd been bouncing and distracted all day. At least
his behaviour had reinforced the story they'd told the twins; he'd caught one
or the other of them giving him a wink at least three times during the
excruciatingly long afternoon. He'd driven Angie insane asking what time it was
over and over, and she'd finally shoved him out the portrait hole, telling him
he could pace down here just as well as he could in the common room, and
attract a lot less attention in the process.
He blew on his hands and shoved them back into his sleeves. If it weren't for
Angie, he'd have gone without his winter outer robes, too. He could see the air
he exhaled as he paced, and entertained himself briefly by blowing out in a
slow stream of cloud, and then in short bursts. It didn't distract him long,
however, and he was all too soon pacing and watching for Bill. Soon. It was
almost time, it had to be. Oliver cast a charm to write the time in the air,
sure the red numbers would at least be 10:55.
10:39.
"Dammit," he muttered, and waved the numbers away. Someone, he assumed it was
the House Elves, had cleared the snow from the steps so Oliver sat down,
fidgeting, one foot bouncing. Breathe. He'll be here in twenty minutes.
Bill had set up the tent just outside of the school wards and started the fire
before he transfigured a simple folding camp chair into a small sled that he
charmed to race him across the snow-covered ground. He was more than fifteen
minutes early, but Bill couldn't wait anymore, and he was more than just a
little bit certain that Oliver would be feeling the same. He really had missed
the kid, even more than his drunken confessions to Nigel had hinted, not that
Bill would admit that now to his friend.
As he neared the steps and saw Oliver sitting there, waiting already, Bill
laughed and charmed the sled faster, all but jumping out when he reached the
stairs. "Hi there, Ollie-boy," he said, smiling brightly and barely resisting
the urge to pull Oliver into his arms right then.
"Bill!" Oliver jumped up and threw himself at Bill, arms going around his neck
in a near stranglehold. "Yes, I missed you too." He buried his face in Bill's
throat, inhaling deeply. He could smell the cold on his skin and under that the
scent of Bill himself. Oliver relaxed into him, tension he hadn't realised he'd
been carrying sliding away now that Bill was here again.
Bill's arms went around Oliver's waist and he lifted the younger man, spinning
them around in a half-circle. Nuzzling gently, face split wide in a giant
smile, Bill buried his nose in Oliver's hair for a moment, his breath
condensing in the air and freezing quickly. "Ollie..." he said, squeezing once,
overflowing with how good it felt to be like this. "I... It's good to see you
again," he finally said, pulling back and kissing Oliver once, chastely,
cupping his face in gloved hands. Their mouths pressed together, Bill laughed
at how absolutely cliched this was, especially considering the holiday.
Oliver smiled against Bill's mouth. "I missed you," he breathed again, and
tilted his head to adjust the angle of their kiss, deepening it, needing the
taste of Bill in his mouth. He licked Bill's lips, kissed him again quickly,
then pulled back to look up into Bill's eyes, his own dancing. "Wicked sled,
mate."
"One of the perks of being a genius," Bill said, winking as he pulled Oliver
over to the sled. The seat was small, barely big enough for the two of them,
and Bill pulled Oliver close as he started the sled back the way he'd come. He
tilted Oliver's face to meet his, and kissed him lightly with several teasing
brushes of his lips. "Missed this, too," he murmured, and sealed their mouths
together, kissing Oliver firmly, sliding his tongue into the eager mouth,
tasting him with a low groan of anticipation.
Oliver moaned back, lifting one hand to Bill's cheek as he sucked his tongue.
Bill was so warm and solid against him, was finally really here with him again.
Oliver's head spun and he pressed closer, hand dropping to fist in Bill's
jumper under the open coat. "Where are we going?" he asked absently, then
kissed Bill again, lips moving from his mouth down along his jaw to nuzzle at
his ear.
"It's a surprise," Bill murmured over the rushing wind and the shush of the
sled's runners along the snow. He turned his head, kissing along Oliver's cheek
and down to his mouth, hand cupping Oliver's hip through his heavy winter
robes. It was so cold out, but everywhere they touched burned and sizzled along
Bill's nerves in direct contrast. "But I promise," he said, grinning as he
kissed what little of Oliver's neck there was exposed, "that it's warm there."
"Okay," Oliver said simply. He didn't really care. Bill would be there with
him, and that was all that mattered. Shivering slightly, he pressed even closer
to Bill. "I didn't know you were going to be in England," he said. Not that he
gave Oliver detailed itineraries, but they had been writing, the letters
settling into long talks about their work and school and Quidditch, and Oliver
was surprised that Bill hadn't mentioned being sent back home.
Bill was suddenly glad for the cold, since it masked the blush that spread up
his cheeks. "It was a bit of a last minute thing, and I have to leave early
tomorrow," he said as the sled pulled to a stop. "We're here."
With one last kiss, Bill climbed out of the sled and walked over to the tent,
holding the flap open invitingly. "Surprise," he said, grinning proudly as he
revealed a slice of warm light and a room that appeared to be all pillows and
bed. The tent had, surprisingly, been Nigel's idea, though Bill was more than
willing to take the credit if Oliver liked it.
Oliver gave Bill a surprised look and moved past him, into the charmed
interior. It nearly was all pillows and bed, with a small kitchen on one side
and a loo on the other. The huge mattress spilled across the floor directly
before him and he walked closer, stripping off his outer robes as he moved
further into the warmth of the tent. "It's fantastic," Oliver said wonderingly.
He dropped the robes carelessly on the floor to the side and shoved his hands
in the pockets of his trousers as he looked around.
Bill secured the tent shut, pulled off his gloves and shrugged off his coat
before going to check on the fire inside the brazier. He crossed his arms and
pulled his jumper up and off, revealing a plain blue t-shirt underneath, tucked
neatly into the narrow waist of Bill's snug jeans. "Glad you like it," he said,
pulling his hair free from the thong he wore it in. There was something to be
said for ridiculous gestures like this, Bill decided as he watched Oliver's
face. Not that he'd admit it to Nigel if he could help it; romantic fool he
might be under the silk trousers and smooth tan, but Nigel could be one hell of
a bloody smug bastard when he was proven right against Bill's will. Bill pulled
off his boots and socks and tossed them somewhere off to the side, and crooked
a finger. "You'll have to go back before daybreak," he cautioned, although
Bill's mind was already on ways they could fill those hours quite productively.
"I know," Oliver said. He tugged his hands from his pockets and crossed to
Bill, stopping briefly to toe off his trainers part way there. He kept moving
until he was pressed chest to chest against Bill, reaching up to thread his
fingers through his hair. "But that's ages away." Oliver smiled faintly as he
spread Bill's hair out over broad shoulders, playing with it absently.
"Time flies when you're having fun," Bill said, eyes dancing with amusement as
he reached down and grabbed the bottom hem of Oliver's turtleneck. He pulled up
slowly, tugging to work it up without having to actually step back and lose the
press of that amazing body against his. "And I'm personally looking forward to
a lot of fun tonight." He managed to get Oliver's jumper off at last, and bent
to kiss along one of his shoulders. "It's been a long six weeks of wanking," he
said, not meaning to let that part of the truth slip out.
Oliver's eyebrows rose as he cupped Bill's head in both hands, lightly holding
him close. "I know," he said again. He leaned his jaw against Bill's hair and
closed his eyes. Bill really had missed him. A slow smile spread across his
face. If Bill hadn't realised what he'd said, though, Oliver wasn't about to
draw attention to it. He simply stroked one hand down the back of Bill's neck
and further, down his spine. Reaching Bill's waist, Oliver fisted his hand in
the fabric of Bill's shirt and tugged it free of his jeans so he could slide
his hand up under and spread his fingers over the warm skin he found there. "So
let's have fun," he murmured into Bill's hair.
The touch of Oliver's hand to the small of his back was like a shock to Bill's
system, and he shook off the strange slow feeling with a vengeance, hands
moving down and cupping Oliver's arse. "Fun sounds good," he groaned, hands
kneading as he walked them over the short distance to the bed. Once there, Bill
let go of Oliver long enough to yank his t-shirt off and strip out of his jeans
and pants.
As soon as the shirt was gone, Oliver's hands were reaching for Bill, sliding
over his chest and stomach even as Bill bent to push his jeans down, and Bill
had barely stepped out of the jeans when Oliver was pressed against him again.
He needed that firm strength against his own body, had missed Bill so much,
that he couldn't stop himself touching as much skin as possible.
Bill growled softly at the feel of Oliver's skin sliding along his, and
playfully shoved him backwards, sending him sprawling across the low mattress.
It created such an artlessly tempting picture that Bill just had to crawl up
between Oliver's legs, grinning almost ferally as he nuzzled Oliver's toned
stomach. "You have such an amazing body," he purred, deftly releasing Oliver's
flies with one hand. "Drives me fucking mad with wanting to have you." He
curled his fingers around the waist of both Oliver's school trousers and his
boxers, and backed away, slowly stripping him down, peppering kisses as he
went.
"I'm glad you like it," Oliver said, moving only his hips and legs as necessary
to allow Bill to strip him as easily as possible. He grinned down at Bill,
settled between his legs, and said, "You can have it whenever you want it."
Oliver thought absently that maybe he should start working out even more. Then
Bill started working back up his body with lips and tongue and even occasional
teeth, and Oliver stopped thinking about anything other than Bill, and how good
it felt to be with him again.
Picking up speed as he worked his way back up Oliver's squirming body, Bill
groaned as he settled down, their naked bodies pressed together as they kissed
again. Bill rocked against Oliver, rubbing and softly growling, "Love the way
you feel against me." He reached over and pulled a small jar of lubricant from
under a pillow, hand tight around it. Foreplay could wait until after he took
care of this burning need to have Oliver now.
"So good," Oliver whimpered, shifting under Bill to feel the slide of their
bodies again as Bill reached under the pillows. "Please." He slid one leg up
and around Bill's legs, hands moving up to cup his face and pull him into
another kiss. "Missed you, this, so much." He needed, and ached, shivering with
the want that rolled through him now instead of with the cold.
"Yes," Bill breathed, letting Oliver kiss him, enjoying the slide and press of
their bodies a moment longer before backing up and running his fingers down the
centre of Oliver's heaving chest. "I'll touch you all over later, Ollie," he
promised, voice taut with desire. "But for now... hands and knees. Let me see
that gorgeous arse of yours."
Oliver immediately rolled over and went up on his hands and knees. "Touch it,"
he murmured. "Touch me. Fuck me." His arms were shaking enough that he dropped
to his elbows, which pushed his arse higher and arched his back. He curled his
hands into fists in the pillows, kneading the bedding restlessly as desire
roared through him. Six weeks. It had been six bloody weeks, and he was
desperate for the slide of Bill's cock into his body, the stretch of his body
around Bill, the completion he felt only when they were connected and skin to
skin, body to body. "Bill."
"Right here, Ollie," Bill murmured, kissing one of those beautifully curved
cheeks as he opened the jar of lube and slicked up his fingers. Oliver was
trembling desperately already, and Bill knew without asking that there hadn't
been anyone else, a thought that pleased him as he pressed two fingers against
Oliver's tight entrance. "Right here." He pushed harder, fingers sliding in and
teeth dragging down tender flesh, stretching and marking at the same time,
claiming Oliver with a hard suck of his mouth and a vicious twist of his wrist.
Oliver cried out as Bill's fingers shoved inside. They felt huge in this
initial intrusion and Oliver spread his knees further apart, arching harder,
trying to open himself further. "God," he gasped, panting, "perfect. Please."
He squeezed down on Bill's fingers. "I need you." He tightened his hands on the
pillow, trying not to shove back on Bill's fingers and into Bill's face.
When Oliver squeezed around his fingers, Bill groaned and dragged his tongue up
to the rise of Oliver's backside, kissing the small of his back. "Like that,
Ollie?" he rumbled, twisting his fingers again. "Like that stretch?" He pulled
his fingers out, paused and listened to the needy sounds spilling from Oliver's
lips. "Show me you like it, gorgeous," he ordered, and the pushed his fingers
back in, three this time, shoving harder and groaning desperately himself.
"Yes," Oliver hissed and gave in, pushing back into the shove of fingers, hips
moving to work himself on them as he mewled. He buried his head in his hands,
fingers curling into his own hair and tugging viciously. It wasn't enough. It
wasn't Bill's cock, wasn't his body covering, surrounding Oliver in heat and
sex and so much pleasure, but it was so good, so much better than his own
fingers had been. "God, yes, I love it, please, give me more."
Bill growled, kissing, biting his way up Oliver's back, cock twitching with
each hot little moan that Oliver made. His hard, hot length brushed against
Oliver's thigh, and that was it for Bill, his control breaking, and he didn't
even take the time to pray that Oliver was ready enough as he yanked his
fingers free, smeared lube on himself and shoved his cock in as hard and as
fast as he could, growling again until all the air was gone from his lungs and
Bill couldn't honestly remember how to breathe anyhow as he sank into that
perfect sheath, curling around Oliver and shaking until the air rushed back in
with a gasped, "Ollie..."
"Bill," Oliver whispered almost soundlessly. The hard penetration had shoved
all the air out of his lungs. He hadn't quite been ready, and it hurt a little,
the pain adding an extra edge to the pleasure that slammed through him,
amplifying it impossibly, or maybe it was the knowledge that Bill needed him
that much that made Oliver feel so fucking brilliant. He could feel Bill
shaking on him, in him, with him, and he moaned softly. Oliver's trembling arms
wouldn't hold their combined weight for long and he slowly lowered them before
he fell, bracing his shoulders against the pillows his face was buried in.
Chest heaving, Bill kissed the back of Oliver's neck before pushing up, pulling
Oliver back up onto his elbows. He grabbed one of Oliver's hands and held it
tight as they started to move, slowly at first, Bill not sure he wouldn't come
just from this right now. "All right, gorgeous?" he panted, sweat broken out
all over and moving harder, faster, deeper with each stroke.
Oliver simply couldn't speak. The pleasure had completely melted his brain; the
need driving through him had stolen his breath. He moaned low in his chest and
threaded his fingers through Bill's, tightening his grip and clinging as if to
a lifeline. He moved into each thrust, pushing back on Bill's cock, forcing him
in deeper and faster and harder.
"Oliver," Bill gasped, the sounds of their bodies slapping together filling the
tent. His hair, wild and unbound, tumbled over freckled shoulders and framed
Oliver's face as Bill mouthed along the back of his neck, grinding his hips
with each thrust. It had been too long since he'd done this, since he'd been
with Oliver, felt this good, and Bill hadn't realised how much he'd needed it
until now, as he moved, undulated over and inside of Oliver, moaning broken
phrases as he tried to say all this, a string of barely coherent words of
pleasure. "Oh god, Oliver."
The sounds Bill made reverberated through Oliver, sending shudders down his
spine as they moved. "Bill," he managed, a needy mewl in his voice. Pleasure
tightened, curling through his body, and then simply exploded. He thought he
screamed but there was no sound, no air as he convulsed under Bill, coming so
hard he saw stars before he collapsed into the mattress.
When Oliver came like that, untouched and so hard that it felt like he was
trying to pull Bill into him completely, Bill cried out brokenly, managing a
couple more thrusts before his breath caught, hair stood on end and the wave of
his orgasm broke over him, and Bill shattered, gathering Oliver to him as he
flew apart and soared for a few heartbeats, utterly lost. Never like that with
strangers, Bill thought dreamily, rolling to the side, followed by, Fuck. Nigel
was right after all.
Oliver turned his head and blinked his eyes open slowly, eyes only gradually
focusing on Bill next to him. His body felt so heavy still from so much
pleasure, little aftershocks shivering through him. "Brilliant," he mumbled,
grinning widely at Bill with his face half smashed in the pillow.
Bill huffed a small laugh and lifted a weak hand to cup Oliver's face.
Boyfriend! an internal voice that sounded suspiciously like Nigel reminded.
"Yeah," he said, voice dazed and eyes slightly unfocused. He cleared his throat
and smiled. "Worth the wait, even."
"Yeah," Oliver said, turning his head enough to kiss Bill's palm. Then he
lifted his own hand to cover Bill's as he kissed it again. He blinked slowly
and then let his eyes close, still holding Bill's hand to his face. "Worth it,
but I hate waiting so long," he said, voice muffled. "Wish I could just -" he
yawned "- just stay with you."
Me too, Bill thought, shifting them around and spooning up behind Oliver and
pulling the covers over their naked bodies. He summoned his wand and cast a
charm to wake them up in a few hours, and then tucked closer around the solid
body in his arms. "Stay for now, at least," he whispered in Oliver's ear,
kissing there once. "I'll wake you in a bit. We've the time, Ollie."
"Okay," Oliver said. He snuggled back into Bill's warm body happily. He knew he
was going to hate leaving in the morning, and so bloody early too, and part of
him didn't want to waste any time sleeping since they only had a few hours, but
he didn't think he was going to have a choice. Bill had worn him out. "S'nice
to sleep with you again," he mumbled as he started to drift off. "Missed it."
And then he was gone, falling into sleep between one breath and the next.
"Me too, kid," Bill sighed, listening to Oliver's breathing deepen. He felt
warm and content and comfortable in a way that he hadn't felt with anyone else
that he had taken to bed before, and Bill began to wonder, in a quiet and
hidden part of himself that he wouldn't ever admit to owning even to Nigel,
what had ever made him think his heart stood a chance against this brazen,
gorgeous and utterly unique boy. With a kiss to Oliver's hair, Bill shored up
the walls around his emotions, fencing them back in once more, and then slowly
fell asleep, not realising it was with a peaceful smile that only deepened each
time he unconsciously nuzzled the one he held.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     This really is the second chapter. Sorry about the mix up!
~~~*~~~
~*~*~*~
It was dark in the tent when Bill woke again. He was on his back now, with
Oliver curled against his side, his head pillowed on Bill's chest, leg and an
arm thrown over him as though to hold him down and the blankets tangled around
them. Bill's arm, curled around Oliver, tightened slightly, one freckled hand
pressing warmly against the smooth skin of Oliver's hip. The air smelled
strongly of sex, and under it, Bill smelled the soap they had used at the
school probably since the dawn of time, as well as the now-familiar scent of
Oliver. He took the time to enjoy the moment, wrapped up in Oliver and snug in
bed, and then shook his head before carefully reaching for his wand to check
the time.
They had three hours left before Oliver had to leave.
Wand back on the low table by the bed, Bil turned back to the warm, snuggling
bundle at his side. "Ollie," he said softly, lips quirked. "Wake up. It's
almost time for class, and you still need breakfast."
Oliver's fingers curled against Bill's ribs and he buried his nose in the dark
warmth of Bill's side. Making a muffled noise, he sighed and burrowed closer.
"Jus' - no. Five more minutes, Dad. Not hungry." His nose twitched as he
registered a familiar scent that was not his dad, but he was so comfortable, he
couldn't manage to worry about it and started to drift back into a doze.
For a moment, Bill was vaguely horrified, but his sense of humour won out and
he snorted softly. "Now, now," he said, keeping his voice soft, "you don't want
to send your friend Bill off without a proper good-bye, do you? I know you've
got better manners than that, Oliver."
A slow lazy smile spread over Oliver's face and he hummed softly. "Bill," he
murmured, and lazily blinked his eyes open, lifting his head just enough to
meet Bill's eyes. "Hi," he said, in the same soft voice, not quite all the way
awake yet. He closed his eyes and put his head back down on Bill's chest.
"Couple minutes, swear."
Oliver's eyes had been so warm, and Bill could feel that warmth in a way that
had nothing to do with bodies and blankets, spreading through him, fingers to
toes. He laughed quietly, suddenly almost willing to spend their last few hours
like this, as though it wouldn't be a waste of time. It took a few heartbeats,
but Bill managed to pull free of that feeling enough to at least speak again.
"So much for teenage stamina," he said teasingly after a long pause, his
fingers tangling in the short strands of Oliver's hair. He sighed, pulling
Oliver a bit closer, shifting him high enough so Bill could bend and kiss the
crown of his head. "Sleep if you want, pet," he murmured softly, one hand
brushing down the length of Oliver's back and curving over one perfect cheek.
"I want," Oliver mumbled and sighed, shifting under the caress of Bill's hand.
He was starting to wake up enough to realise he wasn't home, and wasn't in
Gryffindor Tower. He tightened his arm around Bill, pushing his hand up under
Bill's shoulder and curving his fingers over the strong joint from behind.
"Bill," he said. It was both an acknowledgment of the man with him and a
completion of his sentence. He wanted to stay here with Bill forever. Shifting
again, Oliver pressed his lips to Bill's chest. "I can sleep any time."
"That you can," Bill agreed with a laugh. He squeezed Oliver's backside again,
pulling him closer. "Did you have a nice nap, Ollie?"
"Mmmm," Oliver said affirmatively, and wriggled himself on top of Bill with a
mischievous look, eyebrows lifting as he grinned down at his lover. "Did you?"
"Mmmm," Bill copied, grinning. He dragged Oliver up, kissing him lazily and
wrapping strong freckled arms around him. "Except for the part where I dreamt I
had a teenage son who was prone to sneaking out of school and shagging older
blokes, that is."
Oliver stilled, realising that perhaps his own dream of his dad trying to wake
him for school hadn't been a dream. "Really?" he said, voice a bit higher than
usual. He blushed and buried his face in Bill's chest as he started to laugh.
"Do you dream of your son often?"
"Not really, no," Bill laughed. "Usually I dream about an Incubus that's
equally fond of sneaking out and shagging, but he's not related to me, see.
That way I can be the one who benefits from his naughty behaviour."
Still laughing, Oliver began kissing down Bill's chest. "An Incubus?" Oliver's
heart turned over at the thought that Bill dreamed of him, then fell as he
remembered waking Bill in Hogsmeade. That had to be it. He pushed away the
disappointment and focused on Bill, and his heart turned over again. "Tell me
about your Incubus."
"Well," Bill said, hand moving up and down Oliver's back in an absent-minded
caress, "he's got dark hair and an upturn to his nose, and he's always
surprising me. I reckon that's why I like to dream about him; I never quite
know what he'll do or say next."
Oliver smiled and kept kissing his way down Bill's body. "Dream about him a
lot, do you?" He pressed an open mouthed kiss to Bill's navel, tongue darting
briefly and tentatively inside. He wanted to protest the upturned nose - his
nose was just a nose, wasn't it? - but this was Bill's incubus, so Oliver
occupied his mouth elsewhere, scraping his teeth over the flesh around the
small indentation under his lips.
"Some times more than others," Bill murmured, cock firming slowly and hands
roaming over Oliver's shoulders. In quiet tones, he cast a cleaning charm on
the both of them, knowing Oliver would forget again. "The first time I dreamed
of him, he had his mouth on my cock, you know. But since then..." he trailed
off, humming softly and smiling. "Some nights, I dream about him all night and
I'm so tired at work the next day, my mates won't even come near me. They say
I'm a right beast when I'm not rested, but my Incubus never seems to mind."
"Wouldn't be right if he did," Oliver said, voice husky and throat tight. "His
fault, you know." All night. Oliver smiled smugly, heart so full he thought it
would burst, pleasure beginning to curl lazily through his system. "Evil
creature, to put his mouth on your cock." Oliver shifted down further and put
his mouth on Bill's cock. Lips wrapped around the very top Oliver sucked, one
hand moving to hold the length of him, the other curling over his hip in direct
imitation of the way his hand frequently held Oliver's hip.
Bill groaned, very softly, and brushed the back of his hand along Oliver's
cheek. "I wouldn't say he's an evil creature," he said in a low voice,
grinning. "If I'm to be killed by a magical creature, it's certainly a
brilliant way to go. Besides, I've gotten a touch fond of him, you might say."
Oliver pulled his mouth from Bill's cock with an absent lick to murmur, "He's
fond of you too." He began a trail of small sucking kisses down the shaft in
his hands. "Must be, to visit you so often." He nosed at the red curls at the
base of Bill's cock before starting to kiss his way back up Bill's chest,
moving quickly, suddenly desperate to have Bill's mouth on his, to slide their
tongues together with their bodies pressed full length.
"Must be," Bill echoed. He licked at Oliver's lower lip, sucking it into his
mouth briefly before tangling their tongues together slowly, humming in
pleasure. "God, but I love the way you taste," he said, hands curved and
stroking up and down Oliver's sides. "Like innocent sin. And the way you
feel..." He moved under Oliver, rubbing their legs together, and groaned again.
"Tell me, gorgeous, what do you want to do this time?" It was an impulsive
question, and not one Bill had ever actually asked him before, but he knew
Oliver wouldn't disappoint.
Innocent sin? Oliver wrinkled his nose. That made no sense. He turned his
attention to something that did. What did he want to do this time? His cheeks
slowly turned red, the flush creeping down over his face and continuing until
it covered his neck, too, and extended even to his chest. "Er. I heard of
something once..." Then he shook his head. "No, people don't really do that. I
want to put my knees over your shoulders again." Oliver nodded firmly and
grinned as he kissed Bill again. "Bend me in half."
"Sure thing, Ollie," Bill said, rolling them over and pinning Oliver to the
bed. He reached down and captured Oliver's wrists, holding them against the
mattress on either side of his head, and grinned wickedly. "Just as soon as you
tell me what it is you really want." He kissed a slow line down Oliver's neck,
pausing to suck on his collarbone, just shy of marking him. "Go on, then, don't
be shy; chances are I've done it before, and if I haven't, I'm always looking
for new experiences."
"I told you," Oliver said stubbornly, although he shivered and swallowed hard
as Bill's lips moved over his skin. "Like the first time."
Bill laughed and moved lower, licking one of Oliver's nipples. "You told me a
lot of things the first time, Ollie," he said, pausing to scrape his teeth over
the sensitive skin, kissing the hurt away. "And I didn't believe most of it
then, either."
"No, I mean, nngh." Oliver didn't know what he meant any more. Then what Bill
had said sunk in and his eyebrows shot up. "Didn't believe it then?" He grinned
and tried unsuccessfully to tug his hands free. "Then why did you - oh!" Oliver
lost his train of thought again as Bill bit his other nipple. Somehow, not
being able to move his arms was sending the pleasure rolling through him even
faster than usual, and he moaned.
"Because I wanted you," Bill growled, biting again, harder this time, and his
hands tightened around Oliver's wrists. He wanted to touch more, but he didn't
want to let go just yet, didn't want Oliver and his hands driving him mad like
they always did. He moved back up, growling softly in Oliver's ear as their
cocks slid together. "I wanted to taste you, mark you, fuck you. I wanted you
helpless on my bed and begging me for more. I wanted to see if your arse felt
as good as it looked." His voice got deeper, rougher as he finished, "And it
was fucking sublime."
Fuck. Oliver tugged harder, desperate to touch, but Bill wouldn't budge. "Oh my
god, Bill," he groaned, and wrapped his legs around Bill's waist, tightening
them to rub himself against Bill again. He arched his neck and moaned. "Your
voice drives me mad, I can feel it all through me." He leaned his face against
Bill's hair. "Please."
Bill grinned, a wicked and feral expression as he realised Oliver was gone
enough that he might just tell him what he wanted after all. But a little extra
nudge wouldn't hurt, of course...
"I can't tell you how many times," he rasped in Oliver's ear, grinding their
hips together, drawing a gasp from the both of them. "How many times I've taken
my cock in hand and thought about fucking you, about the things we've done, the
things I want to do to you. How many times I've come with my fingers in my arse
and thoughts of you on my mind." He bit Oliver's ear and groaned, hot and ready
to fuck Oliver however he wanted. "Tell me... what is it you want, Ollie?"
"Fuck me," Oliver panted, moving mindlessly against Bill. Oh god, it felt so
good. He needed, so much. "With, with ropes. Or something. God." He swallowed
and moaned and writhed, then demanded, "Tie my hands and fuck me."
Oh holy fuck. Bill probably said it out loud, but he was too busy panting
against Oliver's neck to care. He didn't ask if Oliver was certain, could tell
by the way he was moving, moaning, that he wanted this. And, fuck, Bill wanted
it too.
Kneeling, Bill stretched and grabbed his wand, fixing Oliver's wrists with
magic so they stayed above his head, then cast the charm to stretch and
lubricate Oliver before tossing the wand across the room. But instead of just
fucking Oliver right away, Bill spread out over him again, licking a line up
his chest, sucking hard on his collarbone again, this time not holding back as
he growled and sucked, lifting his mouth with a rasped, "Tell me if you need me
to stop," and then moved over and down and latched onto one of Oliver's
nipples, biting hard, sucking with a vengeance.
Oliver shook his head frantically. "No," he whimpered, "don't stop, god,
please, don't stop." His hands fisted in their invisible bonds, the
helplessness sending him straight past want to desperate need. It was a short
journey; Oliver was always aroused so quickly but this was more than he'd ever
felt before. Arching his body into Bill's, Oliver tightened his legs around
him. "Mark me," Oliver begged, "fuck me. Feels so good."
Bill dragged his short nails down Oliver's sides, raising faint red welts, and
pulled Oliver's legs away so he could move more, slide down. Down he went,
sucking, biting, marking, growling all the while as he let loose on the control
he always tried to keep with Oliver but couldn't seem to manage tonight. Mine,
he thought as he nosed at Oliver's stomach, his long and tangled hair spread
across Oliver's chest. A faint warning bell went off at that, but it was
drowned out by the clambering need to have and take and mark, to drive the both
of them higher than ever before. He sucked hard, raising a dark bruise on
Oliver's stomach, and then looked up, eyes glittering in the dim light.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he rasped, and roughly grabbed at Oliver's cock,
holding him tight about the base to keep him from coming yet. Then he lowered
his head again and licked once across Oliver's leaking head.
"Oh god!" Oliver cried out, arms tugging hard against his restraints, hips
arching up, trying to push himself into Bill's mouth. He spread his legs and
planted his feet, using the extra leverage to push up again. "Fuck, do -
please! - something, Bill, I can't -" Oliver's voice broke and he growled in
his throat. His legs shook, the muscles in his arms taut and bulging as he
pulled hard, firmly caught.
Shuddering, Bill tried to gasp, but couldn't manage that much air, so he just
turned his head and sucked hard, marking Oliver's hip. Oliver was... fuck, but
gorgeous didn't come close to how he looked when he was this way, so desperate
and out of his mind, skin hot and body taut as a bowstring. He couldn't wait
any more, couldn't spare the time to torture Oliver with pleasure like this,
not when he knew Oliver was so very ready for him. "Ollie," he groaned, rubbing
his cheek, his hair, against Oliver's cock, and then knelt again, pushing into
Oliver with a long, steady push that had him balls-deep and moaning within
seconds, hands clenching on Oliver's waist, holding him down.
Oliver hissed as Bill filled him, the stretch and press enough to temporarily
bank the raging fire in his blood. He forced his eyes open, looking down the
length of his body at Bill, and smiled hungrily. Mine, he thought, and then a
bit wistfully, somehow. The visual of Bill's body pressed into his, the tangle
of red hair with dark where they joined, sent a shudder through Oliver and
tightened the muscles in his stomach and arse. "Bill," he moaned as he squeezed
Bill's cock. "Move."
"I will," Bill groaned, hands sliding down along Oliver's legs, lifting them
up. Slowly, he hooked Oliver's ankles over his freckled shoulders, and then
leant forward, pressing even deeper. Nearly folding Oliver in half he slowly
began to move, hips rolling back and forth. Bill had no idea where this
restraint was coming from, because he was all but gone as it was, teeth
clenched and eyes shut, grimacing in pleasure each time he thrust in. Oliver
squeezed around him, and Bill gasped, blindly turning his head to suck and kiss
the side of Oliver's knee. "God," he muttered. "Fuck. Yes. So good."
Oliver was helpless, hands securely bound on either side of his head, knees
hooked over Bill's shoulders and pressed nearly to his own as well as Bill
pushed in and in and in. The needy sounds he couldn't prevent spilled from his
throat with each slow thrust, his neck arched as he dug his head back into the
pillow. "Yes," he agreed, mindless with pleasure, "Please. Fuck. Fuck me." His
legs tensed as his toes curled. "Bill."
Bill opened his eyes and groaned at the gorgeous, wanton picture Oliver made.
Hands braced on the bed, Bill leant in until Oliver really was completely
folded in half, and licked up the curved length of Oliver's neck. The slow
thrusts were essential now, because Bill knew he'd come in an instant if it
were any more intense, if he moved too much faster. Oliver was so tight and
needy and desperate around him, and Bill couldn't manage much more than a few
hitches of breath each time that perfect arse fluttered around him.
"Nnngh." Oliver grunted and moaned, dizzy from both the thrill of being fucked
so thoroughly and because he wasn't getting enough air, folded as he was. As
his head spun the pleasure spiked and Oliver fought not to come, desperate to
hold on to the rush for just a little longer.
Gasping, Bill pushed harder, angling up and back, mouth hanging open as he
pulled back, aiming for Oliver's prostate. "Ollie..." he managed, back curved
and hips working hard and desperately. He was moving faster now, a slave to his
need, to the pleasure, to his own body, desperate for completion.
Sparks exploded up Oliver's spine, in his head, and his legs pushed against
Bill's body convulsively as he simply couldn't fight the rush of pleasure any
more and gave in, letting it drag him under. He cried out as he came all over
himself. "Bill," Oliver moaned repeatedly. "Bill."
"Oh god," Bill whimpered. "Oh fuck, Ollie." He straightened, fingers digging
into Oliver's hips with bruising force as he pulled the younger man into each
of his thrusts. He didn't last much longer, though; three hard pumps and Bill
was lost, coming so hard his eyes rolled back in his head and his vision went
hazy. He gasped, shouted, nothing making it into actual words, and emptied
himself into the willing body beneath him before artlessly falling forward,
Oliver's legs slipping off his shoulders.
Oliver's legs fell limply where they landed and he nuzzled at Bill's hair,
still panting. "Bill," he murmured, just for the pleasure of saying it, of
having him here, still inside.
"Fuck," Bill groaned, face against Oliver's neck. God, but he felt fucking
brilliant. "You have some bloody fantastic ideas, Ollie," he said after a bit,
heart still hammering and his breathing heavy. He curled his arms under
Oliver's shoulders and mumbled the words to end the charm holding Oliver's
hands in place as he snuggled closer.
Oliver reached immediately to wrap his arms around Bill's shoulders and hold
him close. "Was your idea," he mumbled, brain still scrambled from that
incredible orgasm. He kissed Bill's hair. "I don't ever want to move again."
Bill laughed softly. "Me either," he confessed, smiling against Oliver's neck
and kissing him once. "We've got a bit of time. Mind if I kip out for a bit?"
He nuzzled Oliver again, half-asleep already. "You keep wearing me out,
gorgeous."
Smiling a bit smugly, Oliver tangled his hand in Bill's hair and closed his
eyes. "Go to sleep," he murmured. "I'll wake you up when it's time." Oliver
felt wholly satisfied, content to lie in Bill's arms and determined to enjoy
every last minute before he had to go back to school. He wasn't about to go to
sleep and waste any more time. I love you, he thought, and his heart turned
over.
"Mmm..." Bill said, drifting off. Forget school. Stay here, with me. He
tightened his arms as the thought floated through his mind, but Bill didn't say
another word, only sighed at himself and slipped into sleep.
Oliver felt Bill get heavier as he finally slept and tightened his own arms as
Bill relaxed. Resting his cheek against soft red hair, Oliver filled himself
with the scent of Bill, of them, filled himself with the memories of what
they'd done and how it felt so he could remember every last bit of it in the
lonely nights to come. He eventually made himself Summon his wand to check the
time, lips turning down and face falling as he saw how little they had left. It
was flying past, now when he didn't want it to.
"Bill," Oliver whispered, kissing his hair and stroking his back. "Bill, wake
up and fuck me again before I have to go." His eyes stung but he blinked
rapidly. He could cry later, if he had to, but not now. Not with Bill. He
rubbed Bill's back harder, lightly shaking him. "Bill. Make love to me."
"Whassat?" Bill said, voice slurred as he lifted his head, eyes blinking
blearily. He face was still loose from sleep, mind still fuzzy with almost-
dreams, and he forgot where he was for just a moment. Freeing an arm from the
tangle of their bodies, Bill cupped Oliver's cheek, concern puckering his
forehead. "All right there, Ollie?"
Oliver shook his head slightly. "I have to go soon," he said. His voice was a
shade too thick and he swallowed hard to try to clear it.
Bill sighed, waking quickly. "Damn," he said, and then rolled to the side. He'd
slipped free of Oliver's body at some point during his nap, and Bill was oddly
disappointed by that. Even more than that, the idea that their stolen night was
nearly over sat like a large rock in Bill's stomach. "Do you want a shower
before you go? Something to eat?"
Shaking his head, Oliver followed Bill, pressing close to him again. "Just
you," he whispered. "Can we? One more time?" Please, just one more time. Oliver
bent his head to kiss Bill's chest, hiding his expression in the process.
It was Bill's turn to shake his head. "I don't think I can, pet," he murmured,
tilting Oliver's face up for a kiss. "Two near-fatal orgasms in less than six
hours is quite enough for those of us that aren't sixteen and perpetually
randy." In contrast to his teasing words, though, Bill's kiss was soft, almost
tender. "Next time," he promised, tucking Oliver close. "I'll take something if
I have to, but for now, I'm afraid this is the best I can offer." His voice was
casual, but Bill felt his chest swell with feeling as he held Oliver.
"Perfect," Oliver whispered, winding his own arms around Bill and snuggling
closer. It was what he'd really wanted, to be held close, surrounded by Bill
again. He was afraid to say that, though. He didn't want to scare Bill off.
Closing his eyes, Oliver inhaled deeply and slowly, filling himself with the
scent of Bill. He wanted to remember it when he was back in his bed at
Hogwarts. "I don't want to go back."
Bill almost said right then that he didn't want Oliver to go back, either. He
wanted to keep this warm feeling, but that sort of want, so alien to him, was
almost frightening in its intensity, and he also knew that Oliver really would
stay if he knew he was welcome. So instead, Bill just rubbed soothingly up and
down Oliver's back. "Shhh..." he said, murmuring nonsense, kissing Oliver's
hair. "Just relax."
Oliver nodded faintly. Bill was so warm, so solid. He kissed Bill's chest.
Several slow, deep breaths later Oliver whispered, "I have to shower before
breakfast. McGonagall will notice if I'm not there." He didn't move.
"She's nosy like that," Bill agreed softly. Things had changed; this was so
very different than the last time they had said goodbye, and Bill wondered if
maybe it wasn't his fault for making the trip out just to see Oliver again. If
maybe he should have stayed back in Egypt, and never let Nigel find out just
how fucked up the entire situation was.
One last deep breath and then Oliver forced himself to move, pulling away from
Bill and rolling off the bed to his feet. Just keep moving, he thought numbly.
It took a bit of searching, but Oliver finally found his pants and trousers and
tugged them on. His jumper was right there, too, and he pulled it over his head
quickly.
Bill Summoned his wand, spelled himself clean, and then dressed as well. He
felt strangely hollow, although he was certain it was from the lack of sleep.
Which was why, as well, Oliver was acting so oddly. One couldn't spend a night
of debauchery and expect to be fresh and alert at this hour of the morning.
After hitting the bed with a cleaning charm as well and smothering the fire,
Bill finally turned back to Oliver and tugged him into his arms. "I'm glad you
came out tonight," he said, even though what part of him really wanted to say
was more along the lines of I'm going to miss you.
Oliver hugged Bill fiercely. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I'm glad the bank
needed you here today, and I'm glad you came up to see me." His throat felt
tight and he stopped speaking. He swallowed and whispered, "Thank you." His
hands fisted in Bill's shirt as he clung and fought not to gibber all over
Bill.
"Shhh..." Bill held Oliver for a few moments, just breathing. "You shouldn't do
this to yourself," he finally said, voice as gentle as he could manage.
"Do what?" Oliver asked. "Miss you?" He sighed and said, "Never mind. You'll
just tell me to get a boyfriend." Pulling away from Bill, he walked to where
his robes lay in a crumpled pile on the floor of the tent. He bent and picked
them up. They were hopelessly wrinkled, but he put them on anyway.
"Would that be such a bad idea?" Bill asked, snatching up his jacket and
ignoring the twist of jealousy in his gut. Stuffing his arms through the
sleeves, Bill reached up and combed his hair with impatient fingers before
tying it back once more.
"Yes." Oliver gave Bill a wounded look before stalking out of the tent. He was
mad at Bill for spoiling the mood after their night together, mad that Bill,
after fucking him and holding him like that, still thought he should fuck
someone else, and mad at himself because it mattered this much. He stomped over
to the sled, dropped carelessly onto it, then he braced his elbows on his knees
and buried his face in his hands. "Goddammit," he muttered.
"Fuck." Bill leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He should just call the
whole thing off, and he knew it.
But he also knew he wouldn't. God, but he was so ridiculously fucked.
Bill left the tent and collapsed it, shrinking it down until it was small
enough to fit back in his pocket once more. Then he walked over to the sled and
sat next to Oliver, who had his head in his hands. "You're wasting yourself,"
he said quietly, and shook his head. And I'm too weak to actually stop you.
"No, I'm not," Oliver said fiercely, the effect muted and muffled by his hands.
"Just stop it." The only thing left to say was I love you but Oliver knew
better than to say that so he said nothing at all.
"Fine. You know everything." Bill pulled out his wand to start the sled. "And
I'm a bastard for looking out for you. Got it." Feeling bitter and rather like
he was doomed to fail, Bill waved his wand with a vengeance, the sled jerking
into motion, racing back to the school to get them there before dawn could even
start to lighten the sky.
Oliver turned and grabbed the front of Bill's jacket. "How do you think I feel
when we have bloody amazing sex all night and then you turn around and tell me
to go fuck someone else?" He shook Bill and then let go, frustrated. Then he
stilled. "Or maybe it's just amazing to me." Oliver slumped in the seat and put
his face back in his hands. Maybe it was just another fuck to Bill. He tried to
breathe through the obstruction in his chest. "You aren't a bastard," he
mumbled.
What was Bill supposed to say to that? The truth? That he was starting to hate
himself for being seven kinds of an arse each time he pushed Oliver to find
someone else, that he more than half-way didn't even want him to actually
follow through? Ha. No bloody likely, the truth.
But Bill still stopped the sled and turned to face Oliver, who was crumpled in
on himself, somehow shrinking more and more. At a loss, Bill slid one cold hand
over the back of Oliver's neck and sighed. "It was beyond amazing," he said.
"But there's no reason for you to be so bloody well miserable right after, and
all because it's me you're shagging. You might as well find a nice little
boyfriend and be happy." He paused, scowling at himself and how he sounded. He
was starting to sound like fucking Nigel. "And now you've got me sounding like
some nancy because I want you to be happy. Isn't that enough?"
Oliver's lips twitched in spite of himself. "At least it wasn't just me blown
away." Then he sighed and sat up to look at Bill. "You make me happy. I don't
want a nice little boyfriend, I want you. And it means I'm alone a lot. Well,"
he added honestly, "except for Angie. And the team. But it's not the same. At
all. It's a different kind of alone. And that means I'll miss you, and be
excited to see you, and sad when it's over. Whether you like or not." He ran a
hand through his hair. "I'm not out at school. I don't want to be. Only Angie
knows, and it's easier to focus on Quidditch and do schoolwork without having
someone always there, you know? I'm not going to be at Hogwarts forever."
Bill didn't honestly know what to say to that. No matter what Oliver said, Bill
would still know that things would be better all around if the kid would just
let him go, but he couldn't say as much without opening the discussion on how
Bill couldn't seem to walk away. And Bill wasn't entirely ready to face that
himself just yet. So he was stuck, it would seem, until Oliver woke up and
found someone who could actually be the reality of the dream.
"If you're not ready to be, that's fine," he said at last, focusing on the part
that didn't involve their hearts. "It's certainly not easy at school, I know.
But things change, and the world gets bigger when you're not in there - " he
jerked his head in the direction of the castle, not far from where they sat " -
most of the time. You'll see. And you'll be amazed that you lived so long
without it." Knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere like this just now, Bill
summoned up a small smile and brushed his thumb back and forth a few times.
"Come on," he urged, "let's not row. Who knows when I'll be able to get back
again?"
Oliver shifted so he was closer to Bill, leaning into him. "Whenever it is it
won't be soon enough," he murmured, and sighed. He reached for Bill's free hand
and threaded their fingers together. "Take me back. I'm going to be late."
Bill laughed softly. "All right, then," he said, kissing Oliver's hair and
starting the sled once more with a much gentler tap of his wand this time.
They rode in silence back to the castle. Oliver didn't know how to feel or what
to say. All he knew was that he loved Bill and didn't want anyone else. It hurt
that Bill kept telling him to find someone else, but since Bill kept coming
back, kept writing, Oliver felt hopeful, both that Bill would stop saying those
things and that Bill might love him back. Someday.
With another sigh Oliver snuggled in even closer and shoved everything else out
of his thoughts. All too soon Bill was stopping the sled at the bottom of the
front stairs. Oliver flinched as the sled came to a complete stop. He freed his
fingers from Bill's and turned into him, arms going tightly around his neck.
"Happy Valentine's," he murmured. "You're the best present I could have had."
"You're impossible," Bill laughed, but pulled Oliver closer and kissed the tip
of his nose. It was strangely important to Bill that this go well, not that he
really understood why. "Somehow, I don't mind that much just now." His voice
was as warm as the air was cold, and his arm snug about Oliver.
Oliver laughed softly and ruefully. He didn't understand Bill at all. "You're
just still woozy from the sex." He cupped Bill's face in his own cold hands and
kissed him slowly but finally pulled away. "I have to go," he whispered into
Bill's mouth. Oliver pulled back a little more so he could look into Bill's
eyes. "Be careful on your way back."
Bill tugged Oliver up and onto the steps before turning the sled back into a
chair. "I'm already packed," he said, shrinking the chair and putting it in his
pocket alongside the miniaturised tent. "And I've got my portkey back to Egypt
in my pocket. I'll be home in time for my morning shift, even." Impulsively,
Bill pulled Oliver back into his arms and kissed him once more. "I'll be seeing
you, Ollie," he whispered, slanting their mouths together.
Clinging, pressing himself hard to Bill's body, Oliver kissed him back almost
desperately. "Soon," he said into the kiss. "I'll see you soon." I'll miss you
so much. One, two, three more quick hard kisses and Oliver pulled away
completely, running up the steps and disappearing into the castle without a
backward glance. He was on the verge of begging Bill to let him go to Egypt
too, but he had classes and Quidditch and Bill had work to do. Right? At this
point, Oliver wasn't sure any of it mattered.
"Not soon enough," Bill murmured as the doors closed behind Oliver. He dug into
his pocket and pulled out a scrap of fabric wrapped around a bottlecap. For a
moment, he was tempted to go after Oliver and bring him back with him, but the
flight of fancy was gone even faster than it came, and soon enough Bill was
holding the cap in his bare hand and whirling across the miles, popping into
place in the middle of his own living room, a continent away from schoolboys
and snow-covered hills.
"I wondered if you'd even come back," Nigel said nonchalantly from his spot on
the couch. He popped a handful of mixed nuts into his mouth and raised an
eyebrow at Bill as he chewed. Swallowing, he asked smugly, "Have a good time?"
Carefully emptying his pockets first, Bill shrugged off his coat and threw it
over the back of a chair. "Loads," he said, deliberately copying Nigel's smug
expression. "I'm having some tea. Want some, since you've already made yourself
at home?"
"Sure, if you're making it." Nigel uncurled himself from the couch and followed
Bill into the kitchen, grabbing another handful of nuts on the way. "He like
the tent?" Nigel propped himself against a wall and watched Bill make the tea
as he ate the nuts.
Bill rolled his eyes as he heated the water with magic. "He thought it was nice
enough," came his mild response as he set the tea to steep and pulled out the
cream and sugar. "Though, to be honest, he didn't look beyond the bed." He
turned to Nigel, one eyebrow arched meaningfully as he held up an empty teacup.
"Cream, Nige?"
Nigel nodded. "I don't expect he did," was his equally mild reply. He pushed
himself off the wall and moved to sit at the table. "No, no cream. Just lemon.
Can tell you didn't sleep much."
"I only got a few hours in between blinding orgasms," Bill said by way of
excuse, and pulled out some bottled lemon juice; he'd be damned if he was
cutting fresh fruit at this hour for Nigel. Hell, he'd be damned if he was
cutting fresh anything for anyone this early in the morning who hadn't given
him a recent orgasm. He brought the teapot over to the table, put cream in his
own cup first, and then poured for them both. "So is there any point to you
being here, or did you just want to hear about how I tied Oliver to the bed and
folded him in half as I fucked him into oblivion for the second time in the
night?"
Nigel's jaw actually dropped before he swallowed and closed his mouth, forcing
a mildly interested expression with real effort. "I would like my tent back,
actually," he said, voice only slightly hoarse and then he gave up, dropping
all pretense of casual interest and leaned over the table. "You tied him up and
folded him in half? Good god, Bill. He has to have a brother. Or friends. Does
he have friends?" Nigel shivered. "Would he like to meet your friends?"
"He begged me for it, first." Bill sat back in his chair, smirk on his face.
"But he isn't out, I'm afraid, so that means his friends are likely all
straight or pretending to be, so you'll have to find your own bendable and
fuckable schoolboy elsewhere."
"Be a mate," Nigel said, wiping his hands over his face. "Let me borrow yours,
just once." Nigel wasn't sure if he really honestly wanted to fuck the kid -
because damn, if Bill wasn't exaggerating or outright lying, he was hot - or if
he just wanted to break that smooth Weasley calm. "You really have the fucking
damnedest luck. Let me have him, you're sure to find another one." Bill always
did find another one.
"No." Bill set his teaspoon down with more force than necessary. "He's not a
common slag. And your tea's getting cold."
Nigel managed not to smirk. Mostly. He took a swallow of the tea that was
perfectly warm before saying, "No, according to you, he's quite the uncommon
one." He watched Bill carefully over the rim of his cup. "C'mon, Bill," he
spoke softly as he tugged this particular tiger's tail, "let me fuck him. You
keep telling him to find someone else, you said so yourself. I'm volunteering
to take him off your hands. S'what a good mate would do."
Bill's eyes flashed dangerously. "You're too old for him," he growled, free
hand fisting as he resisted the urge to go for his wand. "And Oliver needs
someone his own physical age."
"Right," Nigel said carefully. "Of course." He sat back and watched Bill,
realising he may have overstepped a bit. No matter what Bill had actually said,
it had sounded more like a death threat than anything else. Unable to stop
himself he continued, "I guess that means you aren't going to see him again."
"He won't let me break up with him," Bill said with a shrug, forcing himself to
relax. This was Nigel, he reminded himself. His best mate. "So until he sees
reason, I don't see any reason for me not to enjoy his many charms."
Nigel gave Bill the look that deserved. "Right," he said again, voice much more
dry. "Whatever you say."
"What?" Bill asked, the word slipping past his lips before his tired brain
could stop it.
"You're the adult in this relationship," Nigel said, "although sometimes I
wonder." He shook his head. "Just admit that you're in love with him. That
that's why you keep going back, why you keep writing to him, why you indulge
him, why you were going to take my head off for asking to fuck him. You were
jealous."
Bill gave Nigel a long, hard look that faded, softened and became almost lost.
"Even if I'm fond of him," he said at last, words very careful and tone
deliberately even, "it doesn't change the fact that he's a teenager in lust,
and that one day he's going to realise what he's missing." He shook himself,
and fussed with the tea service. "In the meantime, at the very least, I've
someone to talk to in those blasted letters, and I'm learning the benefits to
shagging the same person repeatedly, not the least of which is that the other
bloke actually knows what turns you on."
Nigel shook his head. Poor Bill. "I don't think he's missing anything at all,"
Nigel said softly. He had the oddest urge to comfort the other man. He shook it
off and stood, taking his empty cup to the sink. "I'd better go shower before
work, we've got a long day today." He leaned back against the counter and
folded his arms. "What will you do if he decides there really is something he's
missing?"
"Let him go find it." But Bill's face was blank as he stared at his cup. Then
he shook himself and stood. "A shower sounds good, though. I reckon that no one
will want to be locked in a tomb with me, smelling like spunk and lube." He
smiled, although it didn't reach his eyes. "See you in the field?"
"Yeah," Nigel said. He studied Bill's face for a moment longer then smiled
faintly and left. There didn't really seem anything else to say.
~*~*~*~
Oliver leaned against the doors after almost running away from Bill, breathing
more heavily than the short jaunt up the stairs could account for. He swallowed
hard repeatedly and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. No, no, no, he thought,
refusing to think, refusing to cry. I'm fine. Everything's fine. There was a
huge hole where his heart should be and ache gnawed at his stomach. He put his
hand over it absently; he wasn't at all hungry and didn't know how to make it
go away.
With a heavy sigh, Oliver pushed away from the door. He had to wash, even he
couldn't stand the smell any more. It made him think of last night. He tromped
up and up and up to Gryffindor Tower, every step seeming harder than the last.
Finally he reached the portrait hole and murmured the password, hushing the fat
lady as he tried to be as quiet as possible now that he was where the others
were. He climbed through the hole, murmuring a cleaning spell as he went. It
would do until he could hit the shower.
Shortly after the bedroom door closed behind Oliver, Percy stuck his head out
of his own curtains, blinking owlishly without his glasses. He took in Oliver's
outside robes dragging on the floor behind him, Oliver pulling off his jumper
as though he were just coming to bed, and scowled priggishly.
"You're up early," Percy said. "Sleeping in robes and jumpers now?"
Oliver jumped, jerking the jumper off harder than he'd meant to as a result.
The robes ended up on the floor in a heap. Oliver left them where they fell and
dumped the jumper on top of them. "Shut it, Perce," he muttered. He stared
longingly for a moment at the red hair that was too curly and not long enough
before turning away, running a hand through his own hair. "M'not in the mood
right now."
Percy scowled, less tolerant than usual for rule-breaking when it woke him from
a perfectly good dream where he was not only Head Boy, but appreciated by his
peers. "Where were you? You didn't come to bed before I went to sleep last
night."
I was fucking your brother in a tent. Oliver debated, briefly, blurting out the
truth and to hell with the consequences. His heart ached. "Are you sleep
monitor now?" Oliver asked snidely. "Is that a new duty for Prefects? Or is it
just you being nosy again?"
"Piss off, then," Percy grumbled. "You're supposed to stay in the Tower at
night unless you're a Prefect. Just because you're a bloody Quidditch player
doesn't make you above the rules."
"Did I say I wasn't in the Tower?" Oliver glared at Percy. Bill would kill him
if he told Percy of all people. He wished Angie were awake. He needed to talk
to someone who knew instead of arguing with the self-appointed bobby of
Gryffindor House. "Look, I need a wash. Do you have anything important to say
or are you just going to keep blowing hot air?"
Percy recoiled from the tone in Oliver's voice. "Rules are there for a reason,"
he said. "I hope it's still worth breaking them when you're caught and they
won't let you on your precious broom for the rest of term." He pulled back and
closed his curtains again, jerking them shut angrily.
Oliver sighed. "Percy, I'm sorry, I just - " What? How could he possibly
explain? "I'm sorry," he said again and turned away, quickly stripping his
trousers and pants off. Wrapping his towel around his waist he left the room,
grabbing his bathrobe and swinging it around his shoulders on the way. Picking
a fight with Percy wouldn't help anything.
Shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested there, Oliver walked
morosely to the showers. Once he got there and stripped again he noticed the
bruises everywhere from Bill's mouth and fingers and couldn't stop the smug
smile, mood immediately lifting at the reminders that Bill wanted him. Maybe
needed him. Oliver lightly brushed his own fingers over each dark spot, smile
widening with each one.
He'd need to be careful in showers with the others after practice if he kept
the marks until they faded on their own. The twins especially would take the
mickey out on him for them. Oliver made himself stop touching the bruises and
turn on the water. If he hurried in here, he could catch a quick nap before
breakfast.
He had a lot to tell Angie.
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