Fred and Harry easily slipped into the members' area. The security guard had only glanced at Harry for a second before he was smiling widely and ushering them inside. He didn't even bother to check their names against the guest list, though he did manage to get Harry to sign his autograph book. So much for the disguise, Harry thought, patting his cap lower on his head.
The player's lounge was already full of people. Harry had never seen most of them but he did recognize a couple from Oliver's party. He couldn't remember their names so he just smiled politely as he tagged along behind Fred. Harry also saw that two of Oliver's fan squad girls, Miss L and Miss D, had managed to sneak in. From what he remembered, they were by far and away the prettiest of the ten and he noted jealously that Oliver's autograph was slashed across one of the girl's breasts.
"Its sort of backstage without the rock stars isn't it?" he observed as he looked around the members' area.
"Yep," Fred grinned.
Instead of stopping so they could find a place to wait for the team as Harry had expected, Fred steered a path towards the far end of the room where another security man stood. "Shouldn't we wait for Oliver out here?" Harry asked a little nervously. Although Harry had never been in the members' area before, he could tell the man was guarding the door to the locker room.
"And miss all the fun?" Fred said, grinning at Harry over his shoulder. "It's the only reason I come to these games at all."
"But you have no shame," Harry groaned.
"No, I just don't lie. I know you want to see Oliver's dangly bits…"
Obviously Harry wanted to see that very badly, but he seriously doubted it would be a wise course of action. If Oliver in the flesh was anything like his imaginings, he was likely to drop dead on the spot. Realising that arguing with Fred would be entirely pointless; Harry had no choice but to follow his friend.
Much to his amusement, Harry noticed that there was a sign above the door requesting that female members refrain from entering the locker rooms out of respect to the players. Obviously they hadn't anticipated people like Fred entering the area. Either that or they didn't really care. Harry wondered how it all worked when the team had female players on the team.
The security guard only spared them a brief glance before opening the door, allowing them to enter the busy room.
"Oh, to be male," Fred said in a happy voice as he traipsed into the locker rooms.
The first thing Harry noticed about the room was the heat. He saw the steam billowing out from behind a dividing wall and assumed that the shower area was behind there. As he adjusted to the conditions Harry saw the locker room was a mass of people. Most of the men in the room were trainers, runners and the like who looked after the team.
Harry took a glance at his friend but Fred was looking at the scene directly in front of him. He looked dazed, like a child looked in a sweet shop. Harry followed the direction of his gaze and blushed. Oliver wasn't there yet but the players that had already finished showering, were wearing absolutely nothing! Harry didn't know where to look. As much as he wanted to see Oliver in a similar state, Harry hoped the keeper would come out wearing a towel (at least) or things could get very embarrassing.
"Over here," Fred said, snapping from his lust filled trance. He took a hold of Harry's jumper, dragging Harry across the room. "Hey Jackson," he called out cheerily. Jackson was in the process of packing his Quidditch bag. Harry noted thankfully that he was already dressed.
"Hey, Freddy me boy," Jackson said and then he smiled at Harry politely, "I see you bought Harry along with you… Oliver will be thrilled." He exchanged a look with Fred and they both started laughing, making Harry feel very uncomfortable. He wasn't stupid, he knew what they were implying and he wished they would just leave him alone.
"You'll have to forgive Harry," Fred said slyly, "he likes to pretend he's not interested in Oliver."
"Fred!" Harry screeched angrily and he felt his cheeks burning. Fred had the audacity to smirk at him and Harry had never wanted to hit some so badly in his life – well, except for Siobhan but he'd rather not remember that incident.
"You can be a prick sometimes, Fred," Jackson muttered with a shake of his head. "Did you enjoy the match Harry?" he asked, kindly changing the topic.
Harry glared in Fred's direction one last time before answering, "Yeah, it was a really great game." Harry meant it, sure for the entire match he had only watched Oliver but that had been very enjoyable. "Congratulations on winning by the way," Harry added belatedly.
"Ahh thanks, though I had nothing to do with it today," Jackson laughed. "Did you see when the two Falmouth beaters collided?" He asked, looking from Fred to Harry excitedly.
"How funny was that?" Fred said quickly.
Even though he hadn't seen it, Harry forced himself to chuckle along with the other boy's. "I was laughing so much I had a terrible time trying to stay on my broom…" Jackson said between laughs.
Not really having watched the game, Harry only half listened to their discussion of the match. He sat down on the bench, right next to Jackson's bag, staring straight ahead and waiting for Oliver to get out the showers. Whenever they mentioned Oliver, he would perk up and even commented on some of his great saves. If they noticed anything strange about his behaviour, or his lack of knowledge on most aspects of the match, they kept it to themselves.
"Oh, did you by any chance get a good look at the Falcons' keeper?" Fred asked excitedly. Jackson threw his head back and roared with laughter. "So you did see him then!"
"Fuck, Fred, he's a good keeper. He's not there to look pretty!"
"You and Harry are the bloody same," Fred said, rolling his eyes, "He tried to tell me the guy was a nice person." Fred scoffed as though he thought that had been a particularly dumb thing to say. "All I'm saying is that some boil relief solvent wouldn't go astray!" Fred said defensively when he noticed both Jackson and Harry looking at him unimpressed.
Whatever Jackson said in reply was lost to Harry because out the corner of his eye he caught sight of very wet and nearly naked Oliver slipping out the shower area. Harry whipped around in his seat to get a better look and he almost groaned out loud.
Oliver looked as though he had just stepped out of one of Harry's fantasies. Droplets of water dripped from Oliver's wet hair to slide down his strong neck and over his toned chest. Harry followed their progress, his eyes travelling down Oliver's body and he gulped. Oliver had a towel slung low on his hips and Harry could plainly see a sexy trail of dark hair leading from Oliver's belly button to the groin hidden beneath the white towel.
'Fuck' Harry groaned to himself. He quickly crossed his legs and tried to think of horrible things to keep his erection at bay. Not even the thought of Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid going for it helped ease the situation. He tried looking away but he couldn't for the life of him take his eyes off Oliver as he made his way across the room.
Oliver must have felt as though someone was watching him because when he was half way to his locker he looked up sharply. He looked straight at Harry and his steps faltered slightly. As their eyes locked a sexy, lop sided smile appeared on Oliver's face. Harry almost came in his pants.
"Shut your mouth, Harry, you're drooling," Fred snorted at his side.
With some difficulty, Harry tore his gaze from Oliver to find Fred and Jackson staring at him in open amusement. He let his mouth snap shut and he tried to tell Fred to shut up but he couldn't get his mouth to work.
"Hey, Oliver," Fred greeted cheerily.
"Hello, boys." Oliver said smoothly, smiling at Harry and Fred as he stopped in front of his locker.
"Hello," Harry said shyly, his voice coming out in a squeak. Feeling very embarrassed, Harry nervously cleared his throat and avoided looking at Oliver.
"We'll be back in a minute. I need to speak to Kirk about something," Jackson said in an amused voice before disappearing with Fred, leaving Harry and Oliver all alone.
Subtle. Really subtle!
"How have you been, Harry?" Oliver asked as he searched through his locker for something.
Harry could see him out the corner of his eye and he was fascinated by the way Oliver's muscles moved as he rummaged through his locker. Remembering that Oliver had asked him a question, Harry said in a quiet voice, "Good thanks." He wished he could have thought of something witty or interesting to say but with Oliver so close and in such a state of undress it was really quite a feat that he could speak at all.
"Good to hear," Oliver said distractedly, "Ahh here it is."
Harry looked up to see Oliver pulling a can of deodorant out of his locker. Who would have thought watching someone put on deodorant could be exotic? Harry thought as he watched Oliver. When Oliver grinned at him through a cloud of anti-perspirant, Harry blushed crimson and offered a shaky smile.
He searched his mind for something to say but came up short. Oliver however, didn't seem to mind. Nor did he seem particularly concerned about getting dressed in a hurry, much to Harry's dismay. Great though seeing Oliver in noting but a towel was, Harry knew he would eventually have to stand up and with certain parts of his anatomy overly excited, that would be very embarrassing. Tracksuit pants hid nothing!
"Did you like the match, Harry?" Oliver asked, mid way through brushing his hair.
"Yep," Harry nodded, "You were really great out there." He sounded like a one of Oliver's fans, Harry realised and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
"Thanks, Harry," Oliver said, patting him on the head before sitting down on the bench next to Harry. He noticed Oliver had his trousers and pants in hand.
"It was a bit boring for me though," Oliver continued. He quickly unhooked his towel, letting it fall open. "The ball was always up the other end. I don't know what was wrong with the Falcons today…." He trailed off shaking his head, apparently entirely unembarrassed sitting naked in front of Harry.
Harry tried his best to keep his eyes staring straight a head but they seemed to develop of mind of their own. When Oliver stood suddenly, Harry forced them shut. 'Please put your pants on', Harry prayed silently. Even though Harry had his eyes shut the image of Oliver seemed to have burnt itself into his eyes and he could still see him in all his naked glory. All the beautiful, bronze skin and that….
"You can open your eyes now," Oliver said in an amused voice.
When he opened his eyes he found Oliver looking at him, eyes sparkling with laughter. Once again Harry blushed like a schoolgirl. He noticed thankfully that Oliver had finally put on his pants, though even that did nothing to calm Harry's nerves. Feeling the need to say something, Harry uttered the first thing that popped into his head. "It's very h-hot in here," he stammered pretending to fan himself with his hand.
"Yeah it's always like this," Oliver smiled good-naturedly.
As Oliver turned back to his locker, Harry looked around desperately for Fred. He needed some help! He was babbling around like an idiot and staring at Oliver as if he'd never seen another man's flesh before. Harry located Fred fairly quickly, he was standing with Jackson on the other side of the room and they were looking in his direction. He caught Fred's eye and gave him a pleading look. Fred and Jackson looked amused at this but obviously deciding to help him out, they made a move in his direction.
Jackson and Fred got there just as Oliver was doing up the buttons on his black shirt. "Good you're dressed," Jackson said, "I was talking to Kirk and he said the boys are just going to go to the pub down the road for drinks…"
"Are we going anywhere after?" Oliver asked sounding slightly disappointed with the plans.
"Revolver maybe, I dunno," Jackson shrugged as though he didn't really care, "We'll probably decide later."
While Oliver and Jackson were speaking Fred leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, "Are you enjoying yourself, Harry?" He countered his teasing words by rubbing Harry's back comfortingly. It helped to ease a little of Harry's nervousness but he still felt very uncomfortable and very self-aware.
"You two are coming with aren't you?" Oliver asked looking from Fred to Harry.
"Try keeping me away," Fred said cheerily.
Harry however, was far to busy cursing his decision to wear tracksuit pants to reply. Why hadn't he listened to Fred? Whether his arse looked good or not wasn't really important. He wanted to go out with the boys.
"Harry?" Oliver pressed.
"I'm not really dressed for it," Harry said awkwardly and he pointed to his tracksuit pants.
"Don't worry about that, I'm sure we can come up with something," Jackson said cheerfully.
"I have another pair of pants here somewhere," Oliver said, turning back to his locker.
Oh god, Harry thought. All the times he'd imagined getting into Oliver's pants and it had to happen literally.
Oliver rummaged through his locker, pulling out a pair of black pants very similar to the ones he had on himself. "They'll go with the jumper and runners," He smiled, handing the pants to Harry.
"What have you got on underneath," Fred interrupted. Not bothering to wait for a response, Fred manhandled Harry, pulling his jumper up to reveal the ends of a small black t-shirt. "It'll do I suppose. It's cold out there so you can keep this on," – Fred tugged the jumper back down – "but when you get to the bar, it comes off." He spoke in a no nonsense voice very reminiscent of his mother's.
"Piss off, Fred," Harry sniggered, swatting Fred's hands away. He'd really have to do something about Fred's obsession with his appearance; it was getting downright embarrassing.
"Are you four ready?" An impatient voice called from across the room.
"Hang on…" Jackson started to yell back but he stopped when Oliver tugged on his arm. "What?"
"You two go on ahead. I'll wait with Harry."
Shit, Harry thought.
"How kind of you, Oliver," Fred teased playfully, raising a knowing brow at Oliver.
"Shut up, Fred," Jackson laughed, "We'll see you two down there, then," he added and after nodding his goodbyes he quickly departed, dragging Fred with him.
"I'll probably have to shrink them a bit once you've got them on," Oliver said nodding at the pants, "We're totally different sizes."
Harry agreed. From what he'd seen, Oliver was bigger in every department.
As he sat there on the bench, Harry realized he had a very serious problem on his hands. He somehow had to get dressed without Oliver noticing the hardness in his pants. Quite a task considering Oliver was staring at him expectantly and he looked as though he had no intention of looking away.
Clutching Oliver's pants in front of his crotch, Harry got to his feet. He quickly toed off his runners and then, not caring if Oliver thought him prudish, he turned his back. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed his tracksuit pants down to the floor and then bent over to pick them up. With his back turned, he failed to see the spark of desire flare in Oliver's eyes.
"Now what!" Harry thought once he'd managed to slip on the pants. Even though the tightness in his groin had eased a bit, it was still noticeable if one looked. He tried tugging down his jumper but it wasn't long enough.
"Here, let me fix the fit," said Oliver, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and coaxing him to turn around. Harry tried his best to keep a hand in front of his trousers without looking obvious… or perverted.
Oliver took out his wand, adjusting the fit of the pants. The legs were shortened and he tightened the material across Harry's hips and arse. "There, that's better," Oliver smiled, sweeping his eyes over Harry. His gaze lingered over Harry's crotch but if he noticed anything out of the ordinary his face gave nothing away.
"Thanks, Oliver," said Harry, shifting on the spot uncomfortably. Did Oliver have to make the pants quite so tight? Harry thought they might split if he bent over too far. To test it out, Harry carefully bent over to put on his shoes. The fabric didn't split but it certainly wasn't comfortable when stretched to its absolute limits, and Harry was struggling to breathe as he straightened up.
"See that looks good, except," Oliver said, pulling off Harry's cap, "You wont need this." He threw the hat into his locker and slammed it shut.
"Suppose not," Harry agreed quietly, he'd honestly forgotten he'd been wearing the hat. Hoping he didn't have a bad case of hat hair, Harry ran a hand through his dark locks.
"Here, let me," Oliver chuckled, stepping very close to Harry. Using both his hands Oliver ran his fingers through Harry's hair, ruffling it this way and that and Harry couldn't help leaning into the touch. "You have very wild hair you know?" Oliver smiled down at Harry.
"I know, it's awful," Harry chuckled nervously.
The hands in his hair stilled, "I think its cool," whispered Oliver. The briefest of smiles crossed Oliver's face as he stared down at Harry intently.
He tried to get his mouth to form the word thanks, but nothing came out. They were very close, Harry realized belatedly. He could feel Oliver's breath coming out in little rushes of air against his face. Harry flicked his eyes up to meet Oliver's.
He'd never been this close to Oliver before and Harry hadn't realized just how nice his eyes were or how they could bore into him, sending shivers up his spine. Harry watched the brown eyes move over his face and they lingered on his mouth. Nervously, Harry moistened his lips. Oliver's eyes sparkled and he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Harry's mouth.
Harry had never wanted to kiss someone so badly, yet he seemed entirely incapable of moving. He couldn't take the plunge and kiss Oliver, nor could he take a step back to break the tension. It was unbearable and Harry closed his eyes to escape Oliver's powerful gaze. He felt Oliver's face looming closer and just as he dared to hope…
"I think we better get going," Oliver said in a husky voice, his hands dropping back to his sides. He took a step back from Harry, leaving the other boy feeling strangely bereft.
