Competition
Title: Competition
Author: sugareey (aka ME)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: H/O and H/D
Word Count: 1,171 (eeek!)
Summary: Harry is officially a "man's man."
Disclaimer: not mine. however, it is my duty to manipulate the characters.
Warning: is this neccessary? nope, except that Harry is such a player. hear me rawr!
A/N: this is for the AWDT prompt of "he couldn't hold his tongue" for nocturnali and jamie2109. cheers!
Harry laughed as the wind blew against his face, his glasses askew. He loved the feeling when he could fly on his Firebolt, just for some exhilaration. It was his escape from everything else that went wrong. He dived into a Wronski Feint, pulling back up again. Locks of black hair whipped his face as he lapped around the Quidditch pitch. He was just going into a Sloth Grip Roll when he heard a vaguely familiar voice.
“Oy, Harry!”
Harry looked down to see a tall, brown-haired man. He was shielding his eyes with a hand from the sun. As Harry flew down to the grass to meet him, he widened his eyes.
“Oliver!”
He used an arm to pull Oliver into a rough hug, with Oliver clapping a hand on Harry’s back.
“Good to see you, Harry! I can see that you’re still up to date with your flying skills. Much improvement.”
“Yep. I’m always out flying, nowadays.”
Harry grinned at Oliver as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
“So what brings you to Hogwarts?”
“Well, I thought I’d stop by. I took a holiday just to… relax a bit.”
“How’s Puddlemere United?”
Oliver ran his fingers through his hair.
“Pretty good. I’m the only Keeper that’s been on the team the longest. Really amazing.”
“Definitely,” agreed Harry, dropping his Firebolt and sitting down.
Oliver joined him on the grass, leaning up against his elbows.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” commented Oliver, taking in the scenery around him. “It seems like it’s been ages since I’ve graduated. But I guess Hogwarts hasn’t changed much.”
“At least not on the outside,” muttered Harry.
“So I assume that Gryffindor has won the Quidditch Cup?”
“Yeah,” answered Harry casually as he sprawled out on the grass. “Two years in a row, after you left.”
“Good to hear, that’s the spirit!” exclaimed Oliver, eyes glowing.
Harry could recall that Oliver Wood had always been handsome. Now, he was hot. His physique would be perfect for either top or bottom...
Trying to distract himself from his dirty thoughts, he grabbed his Firebolt and stood up.
“Say Oliver, did you bring your broom with you? I thought we could take a fly while you’re here. For old time’s sake.”
“Sure thing. Accio Nimbus 2001!”
Instantly, a broom came flying toward Oliver, who caught it in his hand.
“You have a Nimbus 2001 now?” asked Harry, surprised.
“Yep, I’ve been investing to buy this thing for a while. It’s not as good as that Firebolt you’ve got though.”
Harry flushed before mounting his broom.
“Ready, Wood? Catch me if you can!”
Harry took off from ground and speed off to the goal posts, with Oliver tailing behind him. They lapped around the pitch, taking turns to chase each other. After what seemed like forever, Oliver headed back toward the ground again, obviously worn out. Harry was still having fun trying to get Oliver to chase him again.
“Oy, Potter! Quit being a prat and get your arse down here!”
Harry sped down toward Oliver, stumbling off his broom and tumbling right onto him. His shallow breaths blew onto Oliver’s face.
“Sorry…” gasped Harry as he tried to roll off of Oliver.
However, Oliver grasped Harry’s arm to stop him.
“Don’t,” whispered Oliver, looking into the emerald orbs.
“What-”
But Harry was cut off when Oliver dove in for a desperate kiss. Oliver had his hands pressed on Harry’s back, his arms pulling Harry closer to him. Harry was just as vicious, using a hand to pull at Oliver’s hair. He couldn’t hold his tongue in any longer. He plunged it into Oliver’s mouth, wanting to taste every bit of him. Oliver bit down on Harry’s lower lip, making him moan. He trailed his lips down Harry’s Adam’s apple before making his way towards being Harry’s ear. He licked it.
“I’ve been waiting for this, you know,” murmured Oliver quietly, continuing to lick the shell of Harry’s ear. “I had to wait ‘til you were older…but it was worth it.”
“Mmmmm…” was Harry’s response as he nuzzled into Oliver’s neck.
“Did you like that? Want to do it again?”
“Yesss. Because you’re soooo hot…”
Oliver smiled and cupped Harry’s face, forcing them both to look at each other. And then they kissed again and again and…
“I can’t wait ‘til we beat those bloody Gryffindors. This’ll be the match when…”
Harry and Oliver had no intention of stopping their make out session on the grass until they were rudely interrupted.
“Potter! Wood! What the hell are you doing here! Ahhhhh! Stopppp!”
Harry broke away and looked up at the pale, angry face of Draco Malfoy.
“Well, we’re having a competition if you couldn’t tell.”
“A bloody good one.”
“And clearly I’m going to be blind soon. Get a room!” shouted Draco.
“No one said you can claim the pitch, Malfoy,” said Harry sweetly.
He was standing up, pulling Oliver to his feet but now holding his hand.
“If you can read, I think this is permission from Snape to let us practice Quidditch.”
“But we were, can’t you see our brooms?”
“Potter-”
But Harry ignored him and went in for another kiss with Oliver. He let his hands slide down Oliver’s back, wrapping them around his waist. Oliver’s fingers were tangled in Harry’s dark hair. They were moaning in each other’s mouth before they…
“Potter!” hissed Draco furiously, his gray eyes narrowing at Harry. “I would like a word with you…”
“No need, Malfoy. Oliver and I will get a room…”
“Now!”
“Fine.”
Harry looked pitifully at Oliver, who was giving him a puppy dogface.
“I’ll be back,” whispered Harry, squeezing Oliver’s hand before following Draco.
Draco grabbed Harry’s other hand and pulled him into the Quidditch shed, with shocked Slytherins staring after them. Once inside, he kissed Harry hard on the mouth. This was a more violent kiss than Oliver’s, with Draco gripping Harry’s shoulders. He assaulted him in every way he could. Harry didn’t fight. Draco let his tongue fight against Harry’s before sharply pulling away. Harry squinted at him in the dimness.
“Um…what was that for?”
“Later. We’ll continue this later, Potter.”
“Is someone jealous?”
“No. Just…meet me in the Potions classroom. 8 o’clock sharp.”
“Is this a date?”
“No! I-damn it, Potter! Just meet me there or else!”
“If you say so…”
The boys emerged from the shed, parting ways. Oliver raised his eyebrows at Harry, whose clothes were complete rumpled. His lips were very red and swollen.
“Someone has competition here, eh?” commented Oliver, nudging Harry in the arm.
“Apparently. Do you mind?”
“Nah, I just wanted to let you know how I feel though, Harry. Just a thought…”
“Well, alright. Let’s go ‘get a room’ and finish our business.”
“What about Malfoy?”
“Err…I’ll deal with him later.”
Harry looped his arm around Oliver’s, walking back to the castle, with Draco staring at the pair. Harry turned back to grin wickedly at him. Draco just smirked.
Author: sugareey (aka ME)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: H/O and H/D
Word Count: 1,171 (eeek!)
Summary: Harry is officially a "man's man."
Disclaimer: not mine. however, it is my duty to manipulate the characters.
Warning: is this neccessary? nope, except that Harry is such a player. hear me rawr!
A/N: this is for the AWDT prompt of "he couldn't hold his tongue" for nocturnali and jamie2109. cheers!
Harry laughed as the wind blew against his face, his glasses askew. He loved the feeling when he could fly on his Firebolt, just for some exhilaration. It was his escape from everything else that went wrong. He dived into a Wronski Feint, pulling back up again. Locks of black hair whipped his face as he lapped around the Quidditch pitch. He was just going into a Sloth Grip Roll when he heard a vaguely familiar voice.
“Oy, Harry!”
Harry looked down to see a tall, brown-haired man. He was shielding his eyes with a hand from the sun. As Harry flew down to the grass to meet him, he widened his eyes.
“Oliver!”
He used an arm to pull Oliver into a rough hug, with Oliver clapping a hand on Harry’s back.
“Good to see you, Harry! I can see that you’re still up to date with your flying skills. Much improvement.”
“Yep. I’m always out flying, nowadays.”
Harry grinned at Oliver as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
“So what brings you to Hogwarts?”
“Well, I thought I’d stop by. I took a holiday just to… relax a bit.”
“How’s Puddlemere United?”
Oliver ran his fingers through his hair.
“Pretty good. I’m the only Keeper that’s been on the team the longest. Really amazing.”
“Definitely,” agreed Harry, dropping his Firebolt and sitting down.
Oliver joined him on the grass, leaning up against his elbows.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” commented Oliver, taking in the scenery around him. “It seems like it’s been ages since I’ve graduated. But I guess Hogwarts hasn’t changed much.”
“At least not on the outside,” muttered Harry.
“So I assume that Gryffindor has won the Quidditch Cup?”
“Yeah,” answered Harry casually as he sprawled out on the grass. “Two years in a row, after you left.”
“Good to hear, that’s the spirit!” exclaimed Oliver, eyes glowing.
Harry could recall that Oliver Wood had always been handsome. Now, he was hot. His physique would be perfect for either top or bottom...
Trying to distract himself from his dirty thoughts, he grabbed his Firebolt and stood up.
“Say Oliver, did you bring your broom with you? I thought we could take a fly while you’re here. For old time’s sake.”
“Sure thing. Accio Nimbus 2001!”
Instantly, a broom came flying toward Oliver, who caught it in his hand.
“You have a Nimbus 2001 now?” asked Harry, surprised.
“Yep, I’ve been investing to buy this thing for a while. It’s not as good as that Firebolt you’ve got though.”
Harry flushed before mounting his broom.
“Ready, Wood? Catch me if you can!”
Harry took off from ground and speed off to the goal posts, with Oliver tailing behind him. They lapped around the pitch, taking turns to chase each other. After what seemed like forever, Oliver headed back toward the ground again, obviously worn out. Harry was still having fun trying to get Oliver to chase him again.
“Oy, Potter! Quit being a prat and get your arse down here!”
Harry sped down toward Oliver, stumbling off his broom and tumbling right onto him. His shallow breaths blew onto Oliver’s face.
“Sorry…” gasped Harry as he tried to roll off of Oliver.
However, Oliver grasped Harry’s arm to stop him.
“Don’t,” whispered Oliver, looking into the emerald orbs.
“What-”
But Harry was cut off when Oliver dove in for a desperate kiss. Oliver had his hands pressed on Harry’s back, his arms pulling Harry closer to him. Harry was just as vicious, using a hand to pull at Oliver’s hair. He couldn’t hold his tongue in any longer. He plunged it into Oliver’s mouth, wanting to taste every bit of him. Oliver bit down on Harry’s lower lip, making him moan. He trailed his lips down Harry’s Adam’s apple before making his way towards being Harry’s ear. He licked it.
“I’ve been waiting for this, you know,” murmured Oliver quietly, continuing to lick the shell of Harry’s ear. “I had to wait ‘til you were older…but it was worth it.”
“Mmmmm…” was Harry’s response as he nuzzled into Oliver’s neck.
“Did you like that? Want to do it again?”
“Yesss. Because you’re soooo hot…”
Oliver smiled and cupped Harry’s face, forcing them both to look at each other. And then they kissed again and again and…
“I can’t wait ‘til we beat those bloody Gryffindors. This’ll be the match when…”
Harry and Oliver had no intention of stopping their make out session on the grass until they were rudely interrupted.
“Potter! Wood! What the hell are you doing here! Ahhhhh! Stopppp!”
Harry broke away and looked up at the pale, angry face of Draco Malfoy.
“Well, we’re having a competition if you couldn’t tell.”
“A bloody good one.”
“And clearly I’m going to be blind soon. Get a room!” shouted Draco.
“No one said you can claim the pitch, Malfoy,” said Harry sweetly.
He was standing up, pulling Oliver to his feet but now holding his hand.
“If you can read, I think this is permission from Snape to let us practice Quidditch.”
“But we were, can’t you see our brooms?”
“Potter-”
But Harry ignored him and went in for another kiss with Oliver. He let his hands slide down Oliver’s back, wrapping them around his waist. Oliver’s fingers were tangled in Harry’s dark hair. They were moaning in each other’s mouth before they…
“Potter!” hissed Draco furiously, his gray eyes narrowing at Harry. “I would like a word with you…”
“No need, Malfoy. Oliver and I will get a room…”
“Now!”
“Fine.”
Harry looked pitifully at Oliver, who was giving him a puppy dogface.
“I’ll be back,” whispered Harry, squeezing Oliver’s hand before following Draco.
Draco grabbed Harry’s other hand and pulled him into the Quidditch shed, with shocked Slytherins staring after them. Once inside, he kissed Harry hard on the mouth. This was a more violent kiss than Oliver’s, with Draco gripping Harry’s shoulders. He assaulted him in every way he could. Harry didn’t fight. Draco let his tongue fight against Harry’s before sharply pulling away. Harry squinted at him in the dimness.
“Um…what was that for?”
“Later. We’ll continue this later, Potter.”
“Is someone jealous?”
“No. Just…meet me in the Potions classroom. 8 o’clock sharp.”
“Is this a date?”
“No! I-damn it, Potter! Just meet me there or else!”
“If you say so…”
The boys emerged from the shed, parting ways. Oliver raised his eyebrows at Harry, whose clothes were complete rumpled. His lips were very red and swollen.
“Someone has competition here, eh?” commented Oliver, nudging Harry in the arm.
“Apparently. Do you mind?”
“Nah, I just wanted to let you know how I feel though, Harry. Just a thought…”
“Well, alright. Let’s go ‘get a room’ and finish our business.”
“What about Malfoy?”
“Err…I’ll deal with him later.”
Harry looped his arm around Oliver’s, walking back to the castle, with Draco staring at the pair. Harry turned back to grin wickedly at him. Draco just smirked.