Authors Notes

It's been ages since the last update (sorry about that), so I have a few notes to get through. Firstly, the rating for this story has definitely been bumped up to NC17 because of chapter 13 – I got a bit carried away – so some of the sections of the story will excluded from this version of the story. I'll indicate it when something's missing and try my best to keep it to a minimum. If you belong to the glasses reflect yahoo group, you can read the NC17 version there.

Secondly, I reposted chapters one to eleven yesterday because I got the whole story Beta read. Big thanks to Kitty-Rose for agreeing to Beta read it for me, her help so far has been amazing, and too Jaylee who read over chapter 12 & 13 for me, setting my mind at ease about the chapters. And to Cutter, who always helps me.

Also, thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed this story, here and privately, I really appreciate the effort you go to and I love hearing what you think of this story. It also helps me keep motivated.

Thirdly, I'll keep up the mailing list for this fiction because of the absence of Oliver in the character listings. If you want to be notified of updates then just leave a review with your email address, or email me privately, and I'll add you to the list. You'll then get an email to confirm that you're joining. : )

Finally, I'll update in a couple of weeks time, I want to have a few chapters ready because they next four belong together more or less.

Thanks,

Hope these chapters cut the mustard,

Lee

____

Chapter Twelve: Staunton Island

Harry woke from a deep, unsatisfying sleep. His head ached horribly, a persistent and painful throbbing had taken up residence somewhere between his temples, and it felt as though something small and fury had died on his tongue. As he did just about every time he had a hangover, Harry vowed never to drink again and with a ragged groan, he let his eyes flutter open, blinking furiously as they adjusted to the brightness of his bedroom. Curtains, Harry thought to himself miserably, he'd forgotten to shut the flipping curtains. After a moment, Harry tried to sit up only to find he didn't have the energy to lift more than his head and shoulders. He sighed in frustration and slumped back against the pillows.

As he lay there on his back, omitting the occasional groan of agony, it occurred to Harry that he was extremely uncomfortable. His toes were tingling and for some strange reason, his feet felt heavy and restricted. Rubbing his hand over a leg, Harry felt the soft material of the pants he'd borrowed from Oliver beneath his fingers. Lifting his foot the barest of inches, Harry realised he was still wearing his shoes. No wonder he was uncomfortable, Harry thought to himself. He hadn't even bothered to get changed before going to bed. He awkwardly kicked off each shoe in turn and then wriggled his toes, bringing life back into his feet. It made him feel a little bit better but his head still pounded painfully and Harry couldn't help shifting restlessly on his bed, searching for a comfortable position.

When Harry rolled over onto his side he got the shock of his life. His eyes opened in surprise, so wide they almost shot out of his head, before a small smile crept onto his face. Lying next to him on the bed was Oliver. How had he not noticed him sooner? Harry wondered and, little flashes of the night before came to him in an instant – their first kiss, dancing on the podium, their pleasurable trip to the dark room… Sheer joy managed to shine through his pain for a moment before the pounding in his head regained control.

Needing to get rid of his headache so he could watch the beautiful boy in peace, Harry forced himself to stop looking at Oliver and rolled onto his back. As quietly as he could, Harry opened the drawer of his bedside table and tapped around until he found two hangover potions. Thank god he'd replenished his stock, Harry thought, rolling back to face Oliver. If he remembered correctly, Oliver had a lot more to drink than he had and he would definitely be in need of a potion when he woke.

Harry quickly took his and waited patiently for the potion to take effect. When he felt better, he propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at the boy in his bed. Oliver was sleeping peacefully on his stomach, his face turned towards Harry. Even though his face was a tad white and he must have been uncomfortable because he too was still wearing his clothes from the night before, Oliver looked very cute lying there. Harry wondered if he should take off Oliver's shoes but quickly decided against it; he might wake him and he was quite enjoying having the chance to look at Oliver.

As he lay there on the bed watching Oliver, Harry tried to recall the night before. After their stint in the back room he couldn't really remember much, he knew they'd gone to get more drinks and he vaguely remembered going to dance but after that things got blurry. Judging by the fact that they were both still dressed, he worked out that they hadn't ended up shagging and Harry was glad. The last thing he wanted was to have no recollection of such a significant event. If last night was any indication, it would be amazing and Harry couldn't wait for it to happen. Hopefully, Oliver would think the same when he woke, Harry thought, idly running a finger lightly over his lips, remembering what it felt like to kiss Oliver.

When the body beside him started to stir, Harry picked up the second potion he got out of the drawer, ready to make Oliver feel better. As Oliver's tired eyes flicked reluctantly open, Harry grinned.

"Morning," he said and, although his voice sounded happy enough, he carefully kept it at a low volume.

"I feel like shit," Oliver groaned into the pillow.

"Here," said Harry, uncorking the potion, "open your mouth. This'll make you feel better." Oliver turned his head awkwardly and opened his mouth for Harry, choking a little when Harry tipped the potion in his mouth but he somehow managed to swallow it all.

"Thanks," Oliver mumbled, rubbing his face against the pillow.

Harry smiled but didn't say anything, giving Oliver the chance to recover from his hangover in peace. When Harry saw him smacking his lips together, he chuckled sympathetically.

"Sorry I forgot to get some water before I went to bed last night," Harry said quietly.

"You say that like you were actually conscious when we got home," Oliver chuckled, lifting his face out of the pillow, "I had to carry you to bed."

"Sorry," Harry laughed embarrassedly; he hadn't realised he been quite that bad last night.

"Its alright," smiled Oliver, "I'm sure you'll have to return the favour sometime."

Harry's heart thumped against his chest excitedly. By the sounds of things, Oliver wasn't regretting what happened the night before.

"How did we get home last night?" Harry asked curiously. He hated being in the dark about things he'd done.

"Muggle Taxi," Oliver said slowly rolling onto his side to face Harry with a smile on his face. "On the way home, you crawled into my lap, snogged me senseless and then fell into the sleep of the dead."

"Oh… sorry," Harry mumbled shamefully; he really couldn't remember any of that.

Deciding he should apologise properly, Harry wriggled over towards Oliver and kissed the other boy lightly on the cheek. Obviously expecting more for his forgiveness, Oliver claimed his lips in a soft kiss and a warm hand slid up to rest on Harry's hip.

"Mm, morning breath mixed with the left over taste of Gin," Oliver teased, as he drew back, "You've never tasted so good."

"You don't exactly taste like pumpkin juice you know…"

Oliver smacked his lips thirstily. "Mmm pumpkin juice…"

"We should go get some," Harry said, trying to lift himself up, but he sank back down quickly. "My shoulders feel so heavy…"

"I know what you mean, I can't remember ever having been this thirsty but I can't even be arsed trying to get up," Oliver mumbled.

Harry rolled onto his back. "I have a plan…"

"What," Oliver grunted.

"We'll get up, get some juice. Then you can have a shower and I'll make us some breakfast," Harry said, already cringing at the amount of energy his plan would require.

"Sounds good," Oliver agreed, "Except I think you should get up and then you can pull me up."

Harry opened his mouth; ready to argue that Oliver's idea was a bit unfair. However, the words died in his throat when the sexy boy shot him one of his gorgeous smiles. With a tremendous burst of effort Harry managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Okay I'm up," Harry muttered tiredly as he got up off the bed. He had to adjust the pants that had twisted rather awkwardly during the night.

"Well done Harry," Oliver chuckled wearily, "you're a team player."

Wondering how Oliver could manage to look slothful and gorgeous at the same time, Harry walked around to Oliver's side of the bed. He took one of Oliver's hands in his and pulled with all his might. Nothing happened.

"You could help me a little," said Harry in a whine. Oliver chuckled but did as he was told, making it much easier for Harry to pull him to his feet.

"Thanks," Oliver muttered as he used the bedside table to steady himself.

"What do you want to wear?" Harry pulled open his wardrobe.

"Huh?"

"After your shower…"

"Oh… um, whatever," Oliver shrugged.

Well that was helpful Harry thought in amusement. He rummaged through his wardrobe pulling out two pairs of tracksuit pants, some t-shirts and a couple of jumpers. He hesitated over pulling out a pair of boxers for Oliver. Would Oliver be revolted if he gave him a pair of his underpants? Harry wondered briefly. Shrugging, he pulled out a pair for Oliver anyway, and some socks for them both. He'd just give them to Oliver and let the other boy decide if he wanted to wear them or not Harry decided.

"You ready?" he asked, separating the clothes into two neat piles.

"Yep," Oliver yawned loudly and then he laughed; "now I'm ready." He made his way over to Harry. "Thanks," he said, depositing a kiss on Harry's cheek as he took his pile of clothes.

Dragging their feet as they walked, the boys clambered down the hall. Once they reached the lounge room door, Harry paused; he could here the faint murmur of voices from the other side. Please be Lavender and Ron, Harry prayed silently. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door, his face sinking when he saw that it was Ron and Fred. His roommate was sitting in his usual spot, on his beanbag in front of the television, and he had the Playstation controller in hand, while Fred was sprawled across the couch. 

"Finally, Harry, I was about to come and wake…" Fred trailed off looking positively delighted when he caught sight of Oliver over Harry's shoulder. "Morning, Oliver," he grinned, "Did you sleep well?"

Harry shot him a warning glare but Fred just beamed at him merrily.

Oliver mumbled something that sounded like 'yes' and then added politely, "Hey Ron."

Ron looked up from the Playstation just long enough to give a quick smile.

"Where did you two sneak off to last night?" Fred asked curiously.

"Can't remember," Harry lied quickly and before Fred could say anything else, he scuttled across the room with Oliver nipping at his heels.

"Well that was uncomfortable," Oliver snorted, tapping the kitchen door shut behind him.

"Sorry," Harry replied.  "I didn't know Fred would be here," – he opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of pumpkin juice -  "though I probably should have guessed," Harry added wryly.

Tossing Oliver one of the bottles, Harry called out, "Catch!"

As they threw back their heads, gobbling down the cool, refreshing liquid greedily, they looked like an advertisement for pumpkin juice. Neither stopped until their bottle was empty and, when they were done, they gave identical sighs of satisfaction.

"Fuck I feel better now," Oliver panted, putting the bottle on the counter carefully. He clutched his stomach and belched loudly. "Sorry," Oliver sniggered. 

Harry shrugged; better out than in. "Right," he said, feeling much better now, "You can shower first."

No sooner had they stepped into the bathroom, a very excited Mattias whistled from his spot above the sink. "Fresh meat!"

"What are you doing back in here?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Ron was missing me," Mattias replied snidely.

If it were possible to slap a mirror…

"Just ignore Mattias," Harry said, turning to smile at a bemused Oliver. "There are towels in there," – Harry waved at the counter beneath the sink -  "and soap in the shower…"

"Thanks, Harry," Oliver smiled and he started to undo his pants.

"Yes well," Harry giggled nervously, "I'll go make breakfast." Harry quickly scurried out the bathroom. It was silly to be embarrassed after everything they'd done, but Harry couldn't help his feelings. Oliver had barely managed to undo one button and he was already hot and bothered.

He skidded to a halt in the kitchen, just as Fred barged through with a curious Ron in tow. "Why is Mattias back in the bathroom, Ron?" Harry asked, before Fred's inquisition could begin.

"I missed the little bugger," Ron grinned sheepishly, "He always tells me I'm hot and stuff… it just wasn't the same with out him…"

No wonder Mattias was always incredibly disappointed with his own bathroom routine, Harry thought amusedly.

"I don't even want to know what you do in front of that mirror, Ron," Harry laughed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, trust me you don't," Fred snorted, "But why are we talking about this when there's far more interesting things to discuss?"

"Oh, Fred, leave him alone," Ron said hitting his brother upside the head, "Oliver's still here!"

"Stop it, Ron," Fred said, catching Ron's arm and twisting it behind his back, "I just want to know the bare details… I can find out the rest later."

"Let go," Ron whined in pain.

"I don't think so." Fred turned his head to smile at Harry, "So did you fuck him?"

"Fred!" Harry snorted. Honestly he could be unbearable sometimes.

"Harry, tell me or I wont leave," Fred said slyly.

"Harry, just tell him something because this is really uncomfortable."

"Okay, Fred," Harry said looking at Ron sympathetically, "But you have to let Ron go…"

"Done," Fred said, letting go of Ron's arm and pushing his brother towards the door. Either he was uninterested, or just intent on getting away from his brother, because Ron scampered back into the lounge, not once looking back.

"I can't remember everything," Harry started. And in a hushed voice, he gave Fred a basic run down of the night's adventures. However, he kept the more personal moments, like the things Oliver had said that had left him practically swooning, to himself. Fred seemed happy enough with the details, though he did make Harry promise to organize a date with Oliver. Saying something about needing to visit George, Fred left quite quickly. 

With Fred out of his hair, Harry started making breakfast. He fixed some tea and toast for himself and then, nibbling on his breakfast, he slowly set about making the same for Oliver. He was just putting butter on Oliver's toast when he heard the other boy come back into the room.

"I feel so much better," Oliver said sounding much more awake than he had before.

Harry glanced at him over his shoulder and smiled. "I see you got it all to fit okay." Oliver looked very nice in his tracksuit pants and jumper. Harry wondered if he was wearing his boxers and made a mental note to check the laundry hamper when he went to the bathroom.

"It took a great deal of effort, I don't mind telling you," Oliver said, making his way over to Harry. "I know I'm taller then you an all that but shit, I had to readjust everything before I could even get them on."

"Don't rub it in," Harry chuckled, sliding Oliver's plate of toast across the counter. "Here's your breakfast."

"Thanks," Oliver said, accepting the cup of warm tea Harry passed him and he leaned down to kiss Harry's cheek. "Where's my pipe and slippers?"

"I don't know," said Harry, trying his best to look menacing as he held up his fist threateningly, "but I've got your black eye right here."

Oliver caught Harry's wrist easily and tugged him closer. He leaned down and kissed Harry, lingering over his lips before he pulled back and said amusedly, "Where's your breakfast?"

"I ate it already," Harry smiled, enjoying being so close to Oliver again. It couldn't be said enough, Oliver was gorgeous.

"Piggy." Oliver whispered and, after kissing the corner of Harry's mouth again, he grimaced. "Are you gonna go shower now?"

"Are you saying I stink, Oliver?" Harry asked, amused.

"Just a little," Oliver snorted and he ducked away as Harry playfully tried to hit him.

"Yeah I'm going," Harry grinned, turning to leave. "Ron's in there if you want someone to talk to while you eat your breakfast." Harry added, pointing at the lounge room door. "I shan't be long."

___

Bristling from yet another annoying showering experience because of Mattias, the bane of the bathroom, Harry burst ungraciously into the lounge room. The door banged against the wall loudly and Oliver and Ron turned to look at him quickly. "Sorry," Harry chuckled, "Don't know my own strength."

Seated on Harry's beanbag in front of the television, Oliver just smiled at him. Ron, who occupied the beanbag next to Oliver's, said excitedly, "You should see how good Oliver is at this."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. He had noticed Oliver was holding the Playstation controller but he'd just assumed Ron was letting him have a turn.

"He's already passed one mission!" Ron reached over to pat Oliver fondly.

Harry took that as Ron's seal of approval and chuckled as he settled himself on the couch. He propped up the cushions and lay down comfortably. "What's the next mission?"

"I have to take Salvatore's girlfriend out to score, and then to a party," Oliver said, glancing at Harry over his shoulder. He really was very good Harry realised, because while he had his eyes off the game he didn't even crash the car.

While Oliver raced around completing the mission, Harry and Ron sat in excited silence. He looked so causal about the whole thing he could have just as easily been reading a book. Harry and Ron were very impressed, and they exchanged many envious glances as Oliver cruised through Liberty City in the limousine. He didn't even look particularly happy when he got the girl back to her house safely, passing the mission, Harry and Ron however, made up for it by cheering loudly.

When they finally calmed down, Ron asked, "Is it two o'clock yet, Harry?" He didn't even bother to glance in Harry's direction as he spoke because Oliver moved onto the next mission and the introduction movie was playing.

Harry craned his neck around till he could see the clock, "Yeah its a quarter past."

"Fuck, it's not is it?" Ron said springing out the beanbag like a man possessed. He took one look at the clock and his face sank.  "Lavender is gonna be pissed."

"Why? Where are you going?" said Harry.

"Dinner with her parents, but she wants to stop off and visit Parvati on the way," said Ron, rolling his eyes to show how little he thought of that plan. He never made any secret of the fact that he thought Parvati was an idiot. "I'm gonna have to go…" He trailed off when there was a large explosion on the television screen; Oliver had just passed yet another mission.

"Don't forget to save the game, Oliver," Ron said patting him sportingly on the back, "That's very important! Harry make sure he saves the game!" He bid his farewells and hightailed it out of the room.

"Do you think he wants me to save the game?" Oliver asked wryly.

"Never mind Ron. I want you to save the game!"

"You not bored of this, are you?" Oliver asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Harry shook his head avidly. If he could, Oliver had to finish some more missions. Asides for which, he quite liked watching Oliver; it was nice to see how the game was supposed to be played. 

"Good, because I couldn't help noticing you haven't collected very many of the parcels and I don't think you've done any of the side missions."

Parcels? Side missions?

"Oh, haven't we," Harry said airily, "That would be because we're not very good."

"I'll do them then shall I?" Oliver chuckled, "Because they're an absolute bitch to get once you get to the second Island." 

Harry grinned and waved his hand invitingly, "Please go on."

While Oliver cruised around looking for these 'parcels', he caused utter mayhem on the streets of Liberty City. Harry could only marvel at the boy's ability to do drive by shootings and he noticed with envy that Oliver seemed entirely unconcerned by the Island's law enforcement. At one point he had the FBI after him and he managed to get himself out of trouble without going to paint and spray. Harry was quite literally flabbergasted.

"Oliver, you're an absolute psycho," Harry said, amazed.

"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me Harry," Oliver gushed, batting his eyelashes at Harry cutely.

He looked ridiculous and adorable and Harry didn't know whether he should laugh or pounce on the other boy. "Do that again," Harry chuckled and he roared with laughter when Oliver did it again, pursing his lips for good measure.

"Only three missions to go," Oliver said wriggling his eyebrows at Harry like Fred often did.

"How did you get so good at this? And more importantly how the hell do you even know what a Playstation is?" He was pretty sure Oliver was a full blood and they usually had very little knowledge of muggle things.

"One of my cousins is a Squib," Oliver said, shooting Harry an amused glance, "He went to a muggle school and that, so he's big into muggle things… He had one and I got hooked playing it at his house." Oliver shrugged carelessly.

Harry frowned.

"But when I asked you about basket ball, when you were explaining Quidditch to me way back when, you had no idea what basket ball was…"

"Well, I'd never seen it… Max, that's my cousin, he doesn't like basketball. I know what it is now, though, I saw it a couple of years ago, when I was watching television at his house. We flicked onto a channel and it was playing… I remember thinking, what the hell was Harry talking about; its nothing like Quidditch!"

"It is a little bit…" Harry protested.

"There's hoops, Harry and that's about it," Oliver grinned. "And, can I just say, it's a crap sport. Most of the muggle sports, I've seen are crap, except maybe the car racing ones, oh and ice hockey is great… so violent and…."

"Manly," Harry added silently.

Imagining Oliver dressed in ice hockey gear, beating the other boys with his stick, Harry sniggered quietly. He couldn't help thinking Oliver would make a very good ice hockey player, and he would look bloody hot while he played.

"What are you laughing at?" Oliver asked, glancing at Harry briefly.

"Nothing." Harry shook his head. "So what do you have to do now?" He asked, turning his attention back to the Playstation.

Oliver explained that he had to pick up 8-ball (the explosives expert) and they were going to blow up a boat. It was Oliver's job to be sniper and make sure no one shot at 8-ball while he set the bombs.

"It sounds really hard."

"It's the first Island, Harry," Oliver said, looking at him with pity on his face, "its easy."

And really it did all look very easy when Oliver showed him how to complete the final couple of missions. However, Harry knew it would be considerably more difficult if he tried. He had never really mastered the art of aiming the guns; he much preferred to run people over with the car and Ron was psychotically fond of the baseball bat.

"There you go, Harry," Oliver yawned a little while later, pausing the game and putting the controller on the floor.

"Do you think Ron will believe me if I tell him I did it?" Harry kidded.

"Some how, Harry, I don't think so."

"Well then you have my hugest thanks…"

Smirking at Harry, Oliver got off the beanbag. His jumper rode up, revealing a bit of bronze skin as he stretched his arms above his head. "I don't think your thanks is enough," Oliver made his way over to the couch and perched on the edge. "I've been slaving away for ages now… I mean I think that deserves some kind of reward."

"What's it gonna cost me?" Harry smiled at Oliver.

"This," Oliver said, leaning over a pecking Harry on the lips, "To start with."

"What else?"

"Well," Oliver paused as if to think it over, "I could be a little more comfortable like this." Oliver lay down half over Harry, half on the couch. Harry raised an enquiring eyebrow. "Nope there's still something missing," Oliver whispered against Harry's lips.

Brown eyes disappeared behind soft eyelids as Oliver pressed their lips together in a soft kiss. Harry smiled into the kiss, and bringing a hand up to cup the back of Oliver's head, he started to move his lips against Oliver's. He could feel the older boys heart pounding against his side, a beat very similar to his own thumping pulse.

Surely Oliver wasn't as nervous as he was?

Definitely not, Harry realised when Oliver shifted, covering Harry's body almost completely with his own. Harry moaned appreciatively; he loved having a hard body pinning him down. Feeling a sleek tongue lapping at his bottom lip, Harry opened his mouth, encouraging Oliver to deepen the kiss. Their tongues met, sliding alongside one another, until they reached their goal, and Harry thought he might literally burst with joy. It felt so much better than it had the night before, great though that had been. Without the alcohol clouding his mind, he could savour the feel and taste of Oliver. It was intoxicating, providing a much nicer haze than alcohol ever could. 

Oliver drew back slightly and stared into Harry's eyes with a small smile on his face. Running his fingers through Oliver's short hair, Harry smiled back. He felt so comfortable beneath Oliver, like he'd been there all afternoon, that it was a little hard to believe a couple of minutes earlier Oliver had been on the other side of the room.

"That was very smooth of you," Harry teased playfully and he noticed Oliver's cheeks had a pink tinge.

"I told you, Harry, you make me nervous," said Oliver, lowering his face to Harry's neck.

"And you rock out the smooth moves when you're nervous?" Harry asked sceptically. "What do you do when you're not nervous?"

Oliver chuckled against his throat," I'm blunt. I say things like  - Bitch get into bed…"

"You don't…"

Oliver lifted his face and looked down at Harry with eyes sparkling with amusement, "Well maybe not quite that crudely…"

Laughing, Harry pulled Oliver back down and rubbed his nose against Oliver's before pecking him on the lips sweetly. He stared into Oliver's brown eyes and smiled lazily. It felt strange, lying there with Oliver, wonderful, but strange. There faces were so close, Harry only had to move his head a little to kiss Oliver again but he didn't, and neither did Oliver. He seemed content to look into Harry's eyes with a pensive look on his face.  The mood between them was comfortable, as though they spent every Sunday that way. Lazing in front of the television (Playstation), snogging just because they could. At the same time, an exciting undercurrent sizzled away, revealing the newness of it all.

Taking his eyes off Harry to glance at the clock, Oliver's face visibly sank. "I have to go in a minute," he said regretfully,  "We always have a family dinner on Sunday." He didn't sound very excited about going and Harry was disappointed that he was leaving. He wanted Oliver to stay. "Do you want to go out to dinner tomorrow?"

Tomorrow? That was very soon, Harry thought, smiling happily at Oliver. "Yeah I'd like that."

"Good," Oliver whispered, lowering his mouth back to Harry's.

The next moment Oliver seemed to forget that he had to leave because he became forceful, his tongue driving into Harry searchingly. Strong hands sneaked under Harry's jumper and those calloused fingers ran over soft skin. It felt wonderful and Harry found himself arching into Oliver's touch and hooking a leg around the other boy, pulling him closer. He slid his hands beneath Oliver's clothing, feeling the back he liked so much; the hard ridges of Oliver's shoulder blades and down over the smooth, firm muscles. When Harry squeezed Oliver's perfect arse, they both groaned into the kiss, before Oliver seemed to come to his senses, ripping his mouth away from Harry with a gasp.

"You're too bloody tempting, Harry," Oliver panted, and he got up from the couch before Harry could do anything to stop him. "I really have to go, I need to go home and get some robes first," Oliver said as he stared down at Harry, who was still lying on the couch. "I'll drop by about seven tomorrow night?"

"Seven sounds good," Harry said, smiling at Oliver as he slowly sat up. Oliver took a step towards him, as though he was going to kiss him goodbye, but stopped.

"I better not," Oliver grinned, "Bye, Harry."

And then he was gone.

When it came to goodbyes, apparation was too instantaneous. It was the one thing Harry absolutely hated about a wizard's ability to apparate and disparate at will. At least muggles got the chance to watch their partner leave; watch them walk out the garden, get into their car and drive away. There was none of that for Harry. One second Oliver was there and the next he was gone. He was missing him already, Harry realised, and he snorted in amusement.

Harry got up and sat in his beanbag, picked up the Playstation controller and unpaused the game. While he was directing the figure on screen to the new hideout, Harry smiled suddenly. The full meaning of what had happened with Oliver, finally sank through the Oliver induced haze that clouded his mind. While they'd been at the club the night before, Harry had wondered what Oliver wanted from him. And he realised, now that Oliver was gone, that they were starting something much more serious than a casual affair. Oliver had spent hours with him today, just hanging out. He hadn't even tried to get him into bed, not that Harry would have really minded if Oliver had tried, but it had been nice just being with Oliver. 

And he was amazing.

Apart from being nice, interesting and very amusing, he was as sexy as hell. And as if all that wasn't enough, he was good at Playstation games. He had gotten them to the second island.

Staunton Island.

He's perfect, Harry thought happily.

______

Yes, they did just bond through Playstation : ), I apologise for what is, for me, absolute fluff…