Oikawa walks through Hogwarts' grounds with a grace not normally seen on its own students. He wanders aimlessly, goal to become as lost as possible on this late night adventure. The first task is finally over and Oikawa can't sleep. It's not to say that his classmates weren't celebrating, just that Oikawa doesn't feel like being around people right now, too wound up from his confrontation with the dragon.
Oikawa hears rustling behind him and whips out his wand and points it straight at- "Ushijima."
Ushijima blinks, the only thing signaling his surprise, before he sets his own wand down. "Oikawa."
Oikawa lowers down his own wand and frowns at the burly Durmstrang student. "What are you doing out here?"
Ushijima blinks at him. "I could ask you the same thing."
Oikawa stares at him before he scoffs lightly, turning his head to the side. "It was getting too loud in the carriages." He admits quietly.
Ushijima nods in understanding, and if it was anyone else Oikawa would have rolled his eyes condescendingly-no one understands how he feels- but out of everyone, Ushijima probably does.
Oikawa doesn't acknowledge him before he walks off again, keen on exploring Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest without hindrances. Ushijima walks with him. They don't say anything more. They don't need to.
.
It isn't until three weeks after the first task that Oikawa can finally escape away again. He's currently in the Hogwarts' Library, books and notes in two different languages scattered around him. He's bent over a book when he hears the tell-tale signs that someone has come in. Oikawa shuts his eyes and sighs.
He hears the shuffling between the shelves and suddenly- "Oikawa."
Oikawa straightens his head and lifts his chin up defiantly. "Ushijima."
Ushijima frowns at him, not confrontational. "What are you doing here?"
Oikawa raises a condescending eyebrow at him, watching as realization washes over him a second too late, ears turning red even as his face remains as impassive as ever. "I-I am sorry to bother you."
Oikawa responds with a question. "What are you doing here?"
Ushijima blinks. "I wanted to learn more of the creatures we could possibly face," he says, nodding to Oikawa's piles of books and notes. "But I can return at a later time."
He's telling the truth, Oikawa knows. Ushijima is so unbearably genuine that it pisses Oikawa off sometimes. Usually people have hidden agendas, whether they are his competitors or his suitors. He's not used to honest sincerity, no matter how dry. Perhaps that's what makes him speak.
"You can stay."
Oikawa doesn't wait for a reply and looks back down to his notes. His breath stutters in his chest when Ushijima walks away without another word.
Oikawa denies the sigh of relief when Ushijima returns a few moments later with his own stack of books. They read for who knows how long. Nothing can be heard except for the rustling of pages, the scratch of Oikawa's quill, the sounds of their quiet breathing. Eventually Ushijima finishes the book in his hands and Oikawa writes the last of his notes.
Oikawa sighs in relief and stretches, turning his head from side to side, cracking his neck. When he looks up, Ushijima's gaze is on him. Oikawa meets the gaze head on with his own. He waits for Ushijima to look away- as would be the polite thing to do-but he doesn't. He keeps staring, his stare darkly intense.
To his credit, Oikawa doesn't squirm in his chair. He squashes the urge to shift though, it is late and Oikawa is in his sleeping robes, face and hair bare of product; he almost feels self-conscious. He raises a delicate eyebrow up in challenge. Well? It says. Whatever you're going to do, you best do it now.
After what feels like days, but was only a few tense moments between them, Ushijima raises his hand and his fingers brush Oikawa's cheek. His hand is calloused from Quidditch-being the international player that he is-and the tips of his fingers are coarse, the rough pad of his thumb skimming over Oikawa's lips, which sigh at his touch.
Oikawa draws in a breath.
And loses it again when Ushijima lunges towards him (like an animal), hands cupping his cheek (holding Oikawa in place), and kisses him hard (primal). Oikawa sinks his teeth into Ushijima's lower lip and his hands tangle in his short hair, pulling harshly. He's not going down without a fight.
Ushijima's hands move to grasp Oikawa's waist, hands fingering the hem of Oikawa's shirt. Oikawa pulls at his hair again and Ushijima's hands duck underneath his shirt, palms meeting warm skin. They move downwards. Oikawa doesn't stop them.
.
With Ushijima, Oikawa forgets. Forgets who he is, forgets where he is. (Never why though, Oikawa knows why he's here.)
There is no excuse, nothing that can excuse this. They're competitors in a prestigious tournament and yet, Oikawa is dizzy, his head spinning from Ushijima's kisses, body burning from his touch. It's addicting. No one has ever touched Oikawa like this before, not back home where his suitors would lace their fingers together and smile shyly, suitors who would blush just from the smile on Oikawa's face. But not Ushijima.
Ushijima who doesn't hesitate to hoist him up against the library bookshelves, the castle pillars, the corridor walls, and ravishes him. (His mouth whispers low in Oikawa's ears in a language that he doesn't understand, voice like dark silk.)
.
"Are you afraid?" Ushijima asks.
Oikawa made him sneak to Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower with him. Much of Hogwarts is incomparable to his Beauxbatons, but their Astronomy Tower is something he dearly wishes for (the cold of the tower, however, he can do without).
Tomorrow, Oikawa thinks, tomorrow is the last task. He scoffs.
"Of course not," he says, eyes glazing over the stars, taking in the familiar constellations seen from a different sky. He doesn't meet Ushijima's gaze.
Ushijima presses a hand against Oikawa's cheek, turning his face towards him. He presses their lips together, slow and soft. Ushijima pulls back, cradling Oikawa's face gently, their foreheads pressed together. "You're scared," he whispers against Oikawa's lips.
"Yes," Oikawa breathes.
"Me too," Ushijima whispers back, vulnerability permeating through his frame.
Oikawa just knocks their noses together.
.
The crowd is screaming.
Oikawa meets Ushijima's eyes from across the field and smiles wryly.
The cheering isn't for them. It's for the Hogwarts Champion, the new winner of the Triwizard Tournament- Sawamura Daichi.
Ushijima acknowledges him with a nod and turns away, heading towards the Durmstrang ships. He doesn't smile back.
.
Oikawa doesn't say goodbye. It's not to say he's not good at them (on the contrary, the trail of suitors and broken hearts behind him leaving no doubt) but that doesn't mean he likes them.
He brushes the mane of his horse with deliberate slowness, pets him softly and surely for several long moments, half-hoping to see Ushijima walk out from the castle.
He doesn't.
.
Oikawa shrugs and gets into the carriage. His head is held up and while he isn't happy (he's never liked losing), he's fairly content. He resolves not to give Ushijima another thought.
And so, he doesn't.
.
They next time they meet, it's across a field again. Their eyes meet and there's mutual surprise in present in both.
Ushijima was stretching with his team, ready to take another World Cup under their belt, ready to win. Oikawa was just visiting, one of the newest (and youngest) Charms master of the century, a guest to the French minister and his daughter, a VIP in attendance.
Oikawa blinks. A heartbeat stretches- he tentatively smiles.
Ushijima smiles back.
Oikawa ignores the questions as to why he's blushing when the French minister's daughter asks him.
[If he cheers for Ushijima's team louder than usual that night, well, no one notices. No one notices how Oikawa is the first gaze Ushijima seeks, either.]
.
My mind forgets to remind me, you're a bad idea
You touch me once and it's really something
You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be
Taylor Swift, Sparks Fly