Oliver walked to his room in Gryffindor Tower, rubbing his neck. All that
Quidditch had tired him out; the Weasley brothers had been in a good mood
and seemed to be deliberately aiming at him for the entire practice
session. All he wanted to do was take a hot bath and fall asleep on his
warm, soft bed. He didn't think he could manage the strength for going down
and eating with the rest of his house.
He quickly reached the painting of the Fat Lady, and as she raised an eyebrow to prompt for the password, said "Flibbertigibbet." He climbed through the painting and resisted the urge to immediately flatten himself out on the couch and sleep for hours on end.
He had a strong dislike to people hearing him snore.
Climbing up the staircase to the 7th year boys' dormitory, he passed the entrance to the 6th year girls' dorm. Sounds were coming from it that sounded as though someone were in the shower.
His face flushed slightly as he remembered Katie's words. "I'm all sweaty and gross and I think I may need to take a very long shower." Was that her in there, taking a shower, the warm water cascading down over her long hair, pouring over her shoulders, beads of water forming on her flesh and running down her skin, reaching her -
He shook his head. Going up the stairs was no time for thoughts like those. Nor was any other time- Katie was his teammate, his friend! Not a bloody. "Girl?" he thought hesitantly. Of course she was. He was being an absolutely ridiculous ass.
Opening the door to his dorm, he peeled off his Quidditch robes and tossed them on his bed. His slightly wrinkled khaki trousers and red polo shirt quickly followed the robes. Grabbing a fluffy white towel with the seal of Gryffindor in the lower right hand corner, he made his way to the bathrooms and showers, nodding to some of his friends and classmates as he passed by.
Oliver checked to see if anyone was in the bathroom, and after discovering he was alone, hung his towel on the rack and turned the water knob on in the white marble bathtub, selecting hot water and not too many bubbles. The bathtub quickly filled to the proper amount and he settled himself in, wincing slightly as what seemed to be boiling water enveloped his body.
Breathing deeply, he inhaled the gentle scent of cedar and sandalwood, and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted away to that day's Quidditch practice.and how he had found Katie, shouting his name.. "What was that all about?" he silently racked his mind, shifting in the bathtub to a more comfortable spot, the hot water lapping at his firm muscles. The Keeper gently twisted the Jacuzzi knobs on, and relaxed in the glow of the dim lights and the rocking motions of the water on his body.
He woke up in the Gryffindor commons room. The fireplace was lit and he was alone.
Except for Katie Bell, who was sitting near the fire in one of the scarlet loveseats, eating a chocolate frog, gently licking at the glistening exterior.
They locked gazes and she slowly motioned for him to join her next to the fire. He came to her, not sure why she was there and why he was there, for that matter.
"Katie, what time is it? What am I doing? What are you doing?" he asked, confused as all hell.
"Well, this is your dream. You're not really here, and I'm not really here. I can't tell you where I am, because it's your dream, not mine. I'm not making any sense, am I?" she sighed gently, chest rising up. "Frog, Oliver?"
He nodded dumbly, as disoriented as he had been when he first got smacked in the back of the head with a bludger. Except, this time, it wasn't his head that was throbbing so insistently.
She took a frog out of the box with the smiling and dancing frogs on it and handed it to him. Her fingertips brushed lightly against his palm and he stared at her, wondering why he had never noticed why, during Quidditch matches and team practice, during meals in the great hall and all those years of knowing her, he had never, ever thought of her in this way. He especially noticed it as he glanced downwards, in the more feminine areas of his teammate.
He held the frog tight, using two hands. He had quite the feisty amphibian.
"You know, Oliver.they say you can measure the size of a man's," she glanced down at his khaki clad lap, "IQ by the size of his ears. I don't know if you've heard that. It sounds pretty accurate to me."
She leaned in close to him. Oliver inhaled the smell of her hair and nearly died.
"Poor Oliver, blessed - or cursed, is it, with small ears?"
Katie cast him such a look of pity that he almost felt tremendously sorry (and would have gladly got down on his knees and explained his plans for ear enlargement) until she moved her hand and slid it onto the top of his right thigh.
"But I'll bet you're not lacking in other areas."
Her hand was warm, pressing upon his leg. He could feel the heat from her body almost rushing into that small, sensitive spot. If only he weren't wearing these bloody trousers.
The fire flickered in and out of the half-charred logs, in the middle of being slowly licked by flame. A crackling sound came from the fireplace, followed by a log splitting in two. Flames captured both pieces of wood, the heat radiating into the commons room and onto the two slightly sweating people sitting near it.
The light bathed Oliver and Katie in its warmth, the red-gold radiance causing Katie's hair to glow with a slight hint of copper and Oliver's eyes to widen as she said in a voice more like a throaty whisper, "Is it hot in here, or is it just you?"
She looked into his eyes as she reached for the bottom of her blue sweater and leisurely pulled it off, gradually revealing a startlingly delicate white camisole that he had never seen on her. The hemline of her sweater moved ever so slowly on her upper body, his eyes tracing its path as it went up her stomach, over the curves of her breasts, over her sun kissed shoulders, and finally over her head.
She tossed it onto a chair nearby, still looking at him intensely.
"Oliver," she said, walking towards him, her hips ever-present and demanding. Oliver's eyes followed her.
"What?"
"You never did eat your frog," she said. He glanced down at his still- clasped hands, now sticky with warm, melted chocolate.
"Oh, erm, I guess I haven't," he responded, gulping down the nervousness.
She- she was- moving closer to him in the fire-lit room, and no matter how hard he tried to back away on the loveseat, Katie seemed to hold him in a quasi-comatose position.
Oh so fortunately, it seemed that other parts of him still worked. He glanced around the room wildly, frantically thinking that if anybody came in and saw the two, it'd be a hell of an explanation to give.
"Shall I eat it?" she suggested, lightly bouncing down onto the loveseat, while other parts of her bounced pleasantly along. Katie scooted her body up closer to his and Oliver found his back pressed up against the armrest and his chocolate hands searching for a place to rest without staining anything. She spread her legs and straddled the tops of his legs. He could feel her through the cotton of his trousers.
Oliver sucked in a breath, trying to breathe normally as his hips bucked unconsciously.
She sucked one of her chocolate fingers into her mouth, while Oliver watched her with a rapt expression splayed across his face. This was one hell of a dream.
Katie sucked the last of the chocolate from her fingers into her mouth. She glanced down at Oliver's strong hands, which were coated in the velvety chocolate. Oliver, surprised, looked down at his own hands and realized where his hands were soon going to be.
Katie lifted his left hand up so it was level with her mouth, and swiftly enveloped his index finger in the hot, sweet cavern of her mouth. Oliver moaned softly at the feel of her tongue brushing over and around his finger, and silently bashed himself for going absolutely nutty over just a smit of tong-
"Ah." he groaned again, as she sucked another finger into her willing mouth.
Damn.
When fully satisfied with his fingers, she placed his open palm over her full lips and darted her tongue in and out, warming his flesh. Her tongue traced the smooth designs in his hand, giggling slightly as he whimpered in the back of his throat.
"What's so funny?" he asked hoarsely, unable to take his eyes off the Chaser.
"You," she whispered, parts of her body leaning down into interesting contact with his. "You make funny noises," she said smiling.
"Oh."
Oliver turned a shade of crimson as she said this, silently cursing himself for it. His body was shaking in restraint.
Katie tilted her head down slightly, looking deeply into Oliver's rich brown eyes - they resembled the chocolate she had just licked off his hands.
Oliver stared into her dark blue eyes, with flecks of green - he couldn't look away, as much as he tried. not that he was doing that much trying. She put her hands on his shoulders, not breaking their gaze, gently pulling him up.
"You know, as much as I love chocolate- I am a girl, after all, unless you've forgotten- I think I might rather be doing something- oh, I don't know, else."
She looked at him meaningfully and licked her full bottom lip, gently stretching out her arms over that silky length of brown hair he knew so well.
Oliver tried to think of anything but the way that he could see the smooth tanned expanse of skin that was her neck, and the way he could- he really could land his lips upon it and ravage her completely. He tried thinking of the time he got that massive wedgie on his broom and practically knocked his knackers inwards.
Didn't work. Katie's eyes were almost half-lidded. Eye-level were his eyes to her upper chest, which was unmarred save a simple silver necklace with a Claddaugh symbol on it. She took a deep breath, and he swallowed as he watched her chest rise up and she slid her arms around his neck.
"You have nice skin," she murmured, breathed into the skin of his neck. Then she pulled off her camisole and kissed him on the lips.
"Oh!" He felt a jolt run through him, as though he had just been pleasantly electrocuted. Well, this was a lot different than Quidditch. In fact, this could possibly be a lot better than Quidditch if Katie kept on doing what she was doing. She started kissing his neck, and with soft little pulls on his overheated skin, too. Oliver was feeling most pleased by this, and he smiled. This was fun!
"Well," said Katie finally, after they were both breathing rather heavily and their lips were red and plump from kissing. "I'd better go. I think I hear someone coming in." With that, she found her small shirt and tugged it over the length of her smooth torso and grabbed her sweater. Oliver watched her with faint amusement and remorse, because he was all hot and bothered and how else was he going to get rid of that?
"I'll see you at Quidditch practice next week, then," he said with a faint croak in his voice, suddenly finding his position on the couch very uncomfortable. There was a crick in his neck and a strange swell in his pants that he doubted anybody else would appreciate after intruding in on him in the common room.
She shrugged. "I guess so," and left the room to go up to her dormitory. Oliver rather felt like following her, but it was late and he should probably be getting up to bed anyway.
Then, Oliver blinked slowly and found himself immersed in tepid bathwater. He examined his surroundings, startled and frightened by the fact that he could've drowned, and that he had just dreamed that Katie Bell was ravishing his teenage body. Oliver coughed, and while looking around, he noticed that he was the only person in the large, stone bathroom. He let out a sigh of relief as he looked down and noticed that he was aroused. Well, obviously.
Luckily this was normal for teenage wizards, and it would all come to pass very soon. The only problem would be looking the girl in the eye during pep talks next week. Oliver got out of the bathtub uncomfortably, drowsy and dripping on the cold floors. He wrapped a warmed towel around himself and with a flick of his wand from the ledge next to the soap, vaporized the water in the bathtub.
He quickly reached the painting of the Fat Lady, and as she raised an eyebrow to prompt for the password, said "Flibbertigibbet." He climbed through the painting and resisted the urge to immediately flatten himself out on the couch and sleep for hours on end.
He had a strong dislike to people hearing him snore.
Climbing up the staircase to the 7th year boys' dormitory, he passed the entrance to the 6th year girls' dorm. Sounds were coming from it that sounded as though someone were in the shower.
His face flushed slightly as he remembered Katie's words. "I'm all sweaty and gross and I think I may need to take a very long shower." Was that her in there, taking a shower, the warm water cascading down over her long hair, pouring over her shoulders, beads of water forming on her flesh and running down her skin, reaching her -
He shook his head. Going up the stairs was no time for thoughts like those. Nor was any other time- Katie was his teammate, his friend! Not a bloody. "Girl?" he thought hesitantly. Of course she was. He was being an absolutely ridiculous ass.
Opening the door to his dorm, he peeled off his Quidditch robes and tossed them on his bed. His slightly wrinkled khaki trousers and red polo shirt quickly followed the robes. Grabbing a fluffy white towel with the seal of Gryffindor in the lower right hand corner, he made his way to the bathrooms and showers, nodding to some of his friends and classmates as he passed by.
Oliver checked to see if anyone was in the bathroom, and after discovering he was alone, hung his towel on the rack and turned the water knob on in the white marble bathtub, selecting hot water and not too many bubbles. The bathtub quickly filled to the proper amount and he settled himself in, wincing slightly as what seemed to be boiling water enveloped his body.
Breathing deeply, he inhaled the gentle scent of cedar and sandalwood, and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted away to that day's Quidditch practice.and how he had found Katie, shouting his name.. "What was that all about?" he silently racked his mind, shifting in the bathtub to a more comfortable spot, the hot water lapping at his firm muscles. The Keeper gently twisted the Jacuzzi knobs on, and relaxed in the glow of the dim lights and the rocking motions of the water on his body.
He woke up in the Gryffindor commons room. The fireplace was lit and he was alone.
Except for Katie Bell, who was sitting near the fire in one of the scarlet loveseats, eating a chocolate frog, gently licking at the glistening exterior.
They locked gazes and she slowly motioned for him to join her next to the fire. He came to her, not sure why she was there and why he was there, for that matter.
"Katie, what time is it? What am I doing? What are you doing?" he asked, confused as all hell.
"Well, this is your dream. You're not really here, and I'm not really here. I can't tell you where I am, because it's your dream, not mine. I'm not making any sense, am I?" she sighed gently, chest rising up. "Frog, Oliver?"
He nodded dumbly, as disoriented as he had been when he first got smacked in the back of the head with a bludger. Except, this time, it wasn't his head that was throbbing so insistently.
She took a frog out of the box with the smiling and dancing frogs on it and handed it to him. Her fingertips brushed lightly against his palm and he stared at her, wondering why he had never noticed why, during Quidditch matches and team practice, during meals in the great hall and all those years of knowing her, he had never, ever thought of her in this way. He especially noticed it as he glanced downwards, in the more feminine areas of his teammate.
He held the frog tight, using two hands. He had quite the feisty amphibian.
"You know, Oliver.they say you can measure the size of a man's," she glanced down at his khaki clad lap, "IQ by the size of his ears. I don't know if you've heard that. It sounds pretty accurate to me."
She leaned in close to him. Oliver inhaled the smell of her hair and nearly died.
"Poor Oliver, blessed - or cursed, is it, with small ears?"
Katie cast him such a look of pity that he almost felt tremendously sorry (and would have gladly got down on his knees and explained his plans for ear enlargement) until she moved her hand and slid it onto the top of his right thigh.
"But I'll bet you're not lacking in other areas."
Her hand was warm, pressing upon his leg. He could feel the heat from her body almost rushing into that small, sensitive spot. If only he weren't wearing these bloody trousers.
The fire flickered in and out of the half-charred logs, in the middle of being slowly licked by flame. A crackling sound came from the fireplace, followed by a log splitting in two. Flames captured both pieces of wood, the heat radiating into the commons room and onto the two slightly sweating people sitting near it.
The light bathed Oliver and Katie in its warmth, the red-gold radiance causing Katie's hair to glow with a slight hint of copper and Oliver's eyes to widen as she said in a voice more like a throaty whisper, "Is it hot in here, or is it just you?"
She looked into his eyes as she reached for the bottom of her blue sweater and leisurely pulled it off, gradually revealing a startlingly delicate white camisole that he had never seen on her. The hemline of her sweater moved ever so slowly on her upper body, his eyes tracing its path as it went up her stomach, over the curves of her breasts, over her sun kissed shoulders, and finally over her head.
She tossed it onto a chair nearby, still looking at him intensely.
"Oliver," she said, walking towards him, her hips ever-present and demanding. Oliver's eyes followed her.
"What?"
"You never did eat your frog," she said. He glanced down at his still- clasped hands, now sticky with warm, melted chocolate.
"Oh, erm, I guess I haven't," he responded, gulping down the nervousness.
She- she was- moving closer to him in the fire-lit room, and no matter how hard he tried to back away on the loveseat, Katie seemed to hold him in a quasi-comatose position.
Oh so fortunately, it seemed that other parts of him still worked. He glanced around the room wildly, frantically thinking that if anybody came in and saw the two, it'd be a hell of an explanation to give.
"Shall I eat it?" she suggested, lightly bouncing down onto the loveseat, while other parts of her bounced pleasantly along. Katie scooted her body up closer to his and Oliver found his back pressed up against the armrest and his chocolate hands searching for a place to rest without staining anything. She spread her legs and straddled the tops of his legs. He could feel her through the cotton of his trousers.
Oliver sucked in a breath, trying to breathe normally as his hips bucked unconsciously.
She sucked one of her chocolate fingers into her mouth, while Oliver watched her with a rapt expression splayed across his face. This was one hell of a dream.
Katie sucked the last of the chocolate from her fingers into her mouth. She glanced down at Oliver's strong hands, which were coated in the velvety chocolate. Oliver, surprised, looked down at his own hands and realized where his hands were soon going to be.
Katie lifted his left hand up so it was level with her mouth, and swiftly enveloped his index finger in the hot, sweet cavern of her mouth. Oliver moaned softly at the feel of her tongue brushing over and around his finger, and silently bashed himself for going absolutely nutty over just a smit of tong-
"Ah." he groaned again, as she sucked another finger into her willing mouth.
Damn.
When fully satisfied with his fingers, she placed his open palm over her full lips and darted her tongue in and out, warming his flesh. Her tongue traced the smooth designs in his hand, giggling slightly as he whimpered in the back of his throat.
"What's so funny?" he asked hoarsely, unable to take his eyes off the Chaser.
"You," she whispered, parts of her body leaning down into interesting contact with his. "You make funny noises," she said smiling.
"Oh."
Oliver turned a shade of crimson as she said this, silently cursing himself for it. His body was shaking in restraint.
Katie tilted her head down slightly, looking deeply into Oliver's rich brown eyes - they resembled the chocolate she had just licked off his hands.
Oliver stared into her dark blue eyes, with flecks of green - he couldn't look away, as much as he tried. not that he was doing that much trying. She put her hands on his shoulders, not breaking their gaze, gently pulling him up.
"You know, as much as I love chocolate- I am a girl, after all, unless you've forgotten- I think I might rather be doing something- oh, I don't know, else."
She looked at him meaningfully and licked her full bottom lip, gently stretching out her arms over that silky length of brown hair he knew so well.
Oliver tried to think of anything but the way that he could see the smooth tanned expanse of skin that was her neck, and the way he could- he really could land his lips upon it and ravage her completely. He tried thinking of the time he got that massive wedgie on his broom and practically knocked his knackers inwards.
Didn't work. Katie's eyes were almost half-lidded. Eye-level were his eyes to her upper chest, which was unmarred save a simple silver necklace with a Claddaugh symbol on it. She took a deep breath, and he swallowed as he watched her chest rise up and she slid her arms around his neck.
"You have nice skin," she murmured, breathed into the skin of his neck. Then she pulled off her camisole and kissed him on the lips.
"Oh!" He felt a jolt run through him, as though he had just been pleasantly electrocuted. Well, this was a lot different than Quidditch. In fact, this could possibly be a lot better than Quidditch if Katie kept on doing what she was doing. She started kissing his neck, and with soft little pulls on his overheated skin, too. Oliver was feeling most pleased by this, and he smiled. This was fun!
"Well," said Katie finally, after they were both breathing rather heavily and their lips were red and plump from kissing. "I'd better go. I think I hear someone coming in." With that, she found her small shirt and tugged it over the length of her smooth torso and grabbed her sweater. Oliver watched her with faint amusement and remorse, because he was all hot and bothered and how else was he going to get rid of that?
"I'll see you at Quidditch practice next week, then," he said with a faint croak in his voice, suddenly finding his position on the couch very uncomfortable. There was a crick in his neck and a strange swell in his pants that he doubted anybody else would appreciate after intruding in on him in the common room.
She shrugged. "I guess so," and left the room to go up to her dormitory. Oliver rather felt like following her, but it was late and he should probably be getting up to bed anyway.
Then, Oliver blinked slowly and found himself immersed in tepid bathwater. He examined his surroundings, startled and frightened by the fact that he could've drowned, and that he had just dreamed that Katie Bell was ravishing his teenage body. Oliver coughed, and while looking around, he noticed that he was the only person in the large, stone bathroom. He let out a sigh of relief as he looked down and noticed that he was aroused. Well, obviously.
Luckily this was normal for teenage wizards, and it would all come to pass very soon. The only problem would be looking the girl in the eye during pep talks next week. Oliver got out of the bathtub uncomfortably, drowsy and dripping on the cold floors. He wrapped a warmed towel around himself and with a flick of his wand from the ledge next to the soap, vaporized the water in the bathtub.