Pairing: Oliver Wood/Harry Potter
Rating: R (I think it's PG-13, but just to be safe I'm saying R.)
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world and the characters, I just came up with the plot. I make no profit from these writings.
Vigor
The week that follows is terrible for Oliver. His schoolwork lacks, his attention lack, and most importantly, practice lacks. He keeps his eyes on Harry, waiting for some sign that he has made his mind; that he doesn't hate Oliver.
He's constantly after McGonagall for Harry's Firebolt; blaming poor Quidditch practice on his awful broom bringing down the team's spirits.
Oliver can see the confusion written all over Harry's face. He also notices how Harry watches him, as if Oliver is a new creature he's never seen before and he'd like to study. Oliver would let Harry study him as closely as he liked but he doesn't think Harry would ever ask.
He's sleeping even worse than before, and he never thought it would be possible. It's one too many dreams about Harry's lips and Harry's hand and Harry's young -- very young, he reminds himself; illegally young -- body.
And then the days start to slip and Oliver watches Monday fly by, and then Tuesday, and then he's there on the third floor and Harry is standing with his invisibility cloak and Oliver can see how nervous he is. If only he could reach out and touch... but no, he's got to wait for Harry's decision.
Harry's shuffling his feet and avoiding Oliver's eyes. He stops suddenly and stares hard at the wall behind Oliver, "How do you even know?"
"Know what?" Oliver croaks.
Harry blushes so hard and looks down at his feet, "You know, how do you know that you..."
"...Are gay?"
Harry nods; much too embarrassed to speak.
Oliver is thoughtful for a moment, "I just knew. I think it was around your age, maybe younger and all the boys started liking girls and I didn't... I thought and everyone else too, that it was because I was too busy with Quidditch, but then I started noticing other guys."
Harry's eyes rise slowly to meet Oliver's and he looks somehow sadder than Oliver can ever remember seeing him, but Harry smiles sadly and looks away.
This is enough to boost Oliver's confidence in this situation a bit; at least Harry is curious. "Have you thought about what you find attractive?"
Harry looks at him quickly and then back down at his shoes, "I think Cho Chang is OK."
Oliver's heart drops down into his shoes and he thinks maybe it'll seep out on to the floor and Harry can step on it and get it over with. "Oh, yeah, her," he mutters.
Harry's eyes meet his and this time he doesn't look away, "I think.... well, I mean, you, you're OK, too."
Oliver smiles stupidly and berates himself for jumping to conclusions. So what if Harry's not gay, it doesn't mean he's not bisexual. "Really?" he asks, his voice much too loud for his taste.
Harry blushes and nods, "But I don't know... I never thought... I'd never looked at boys... well, before last week I didn't even think and then when you and I don't know."
Harry looks very upset and on the verge of tears and Oliver gives into his own impulses and walks to Harry and wraps his arms tightly around the younger boy. Harry keeps his arms at his side but doesn't tense to Oliver's touch, which Oliver takes as a good sign. He pulls away, but stays very close to Harry.
"I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to put all this pressure on you, I just wanted you to know," he says very quickly and looks down at his own feet.
Harry's hands start to fidget and he opens his mouth more than once, draws air and then changes his mind and purses his lips tightly together.
Oliver looks up from the ground and watches Harry who seems to be thinking very hard and finally a determined look crosses his features and he looks at Oliver, "I want to know..." he pauses and Oliver is staring hard at Harry in total bewilderment, "I want to know what it's like to kiss you."
Bewilderment increases tenfold and turns into giddy excitement that turns into anxiety that turns back into giddy excitement before Oliver composes himself and looks unsurely at Harry, "What... I mean, why?"
Harry's cheeks which had started to lose their blush quickly burned a dark crimson, "I just... because I don't know... and I just wanted to try because I think you're OK and I didn't know how else and you don't have to... I just thought..."
Oliver interrupts, "No! I mean, no, I just wanted to make sure you're not doing this for my sake. I'll kiss you, that is not a problem... I mean, I want to." He stops talking, realizing what a fool he must look to poor, scared Harry.
Then they just wait and Oliver realizes he's got to lean in and kiss Harry if he is to kiss Harry at all but he doesn't want to do it wrong and he doesn't want Harry to run off and he just finally closes the space between them and he grasps Harry's arms -- to keep him in place or just to hold on to something in case his knees go weak -- and then his lips touch Harry's and their noses press into one another and Oliver knows this isn't great and he's totally screwed up and that when he lets go, Harry is going to leave and so he doesn't want to let go, and he just keeps kissing Harry, and soon, his grasp loosens and he feels a hand on his waist and he wonders if it's his imagination or if Harry's lips are really moving against his and it's suddenly not so awkward and not so bad and actually kind of nice kissing Harry.
He opens his mouth slightly and Harry pulls away quickly and Oliver moves away, giving Harry space, knowing he has totally ruined everything and when did he become so stupid?
"Sorry," Oliver mutters.
"Huh?" Harry looks at him and upon realizing what Oliver had to be referring to, he blushes, "oh, yeah, no... it's not, I heard... something. Filch, I think."
Oliver listens hard and sure enough he can hear heavy footsteps and they're right outside the door and he closes his eyes and waits for Filch to open the door but then something soft is draped over his body and he's suddenly very close to Harry. He opens his eyes and he's under Harry's invisibility cloak and Harry is pressed very tightly against him and trying to get him to slouch a bit because he's tall and Harry wants to make sure that the cloak covers their feet. Filch opens the door, and on impulse, Oliver pulls Harry tightly to him and walks very slowly towards a far wall that they can shrink against and wait until Filch leaves.
Harry's pressed against Oliver's chest, and Oliver starts to idly play with Harry's hair until he realizes what he's done and he immediately drops his hands and he watches Filch knowing that Harry is looking up at him.
Finally, Filch extinguishes the torches in the room and leaves. Oliver pulls the cloak off but Harry is still looking at him and they're still so achingly close.
"Sorry," Oliver mutters again and he feels so stupid for having to apologize for everything.
Harry shakes his head and turns towards the door, "We should go. We should both be able to walk back to Gryffindor tower under the cloak if we stay close."
Harry speaks very business-like and Oliver feels like maybe he should take his chances with Filch and let Harry go back under his cloak alone but Harry smiles kindly and holds open the cloak for him and Oliver can't stop himself from walking underneath it.
Harry starts to move but Oliver stops him with a hand on his elbow, "Harry, I..."
"There's nothing to apologize for," Harry says softly, "I liked it."
Oliver hears the embarrassment in his voice and he wraps his arms around Harry and kisses his forehead, his words are rushed as he tries to relate his elatedness to Harry, "You don't know how long, wanted to do it forever, I mean... you're so... and then things always happen to you and I just think, he'll die and I'll never, but now I have and you liked it. Oh my God! You liked it and I am just shutting up now." It's Oliver who now looks embarrassed but Harry just laughs and tugs him out of the room and into the hall and to the staircase and then up to Gryffindor tower and then they climb in and Harry pulls the cloak off.
Oliver is very relieved to see that everyone has gone to bed. Harry and he stand right inside the entrance and suddenly all the nervousness that Oliver had felt earlier comes rushing back in full force.
"So, goodnight, Oliver," Harry says and heads towards the staircase. Oliver stops him for the second time that night and pulls him in for a quick peck on the lips. Oliver realizes that the actual feel of Harry's lips is much better than what he had imagined.
Harry smiles timidly at him and turns toward the staircase once more. Oliver watches him go, smiling stupidly to himself.
There's a ginger-haired cat on one of the chairs by the fire, he picks it up and hugs it very tightly to his body before it claws at him and he sets it down.