Goyle surveyed the boy on the Gryffindor table with great interest. As he ate his food, little did Oliver Wood know that he was being checked out. Goyle drank the last dregs of his hot chocolate and stood up. He sighed and headed for the entrance hall. When he got there, he made a direct course to the dungeons, but as he grasped the handle, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Goyle, you wanted a word?"

Goyle turned around to see Oliver looking straight at him, a smile on his face.

"Err... yeah, I have a new broom-" Crabbe hesitated and then pointed at the broom closet, "-in there. Can you take a look at it for me?"

"Sure thing!" Oliver said lively, walking towards the closet, Goyle following close behind him. Oliver grabbed the cool, steel handle of the door and pulled it. The door, creakily, opened slowly and as it did, the two boys walked into a room full of, none other than; broomsticks, of all shapes and sizes.

Oliver walked over, instinctively, to what was known as the Slytherin area; a dust-ridden, cobweb-covered section in the corner of the room.

"So..." Oliver started, "Which one is it?" Goyle looked into Oliver's eyes as though he would love to drown in them, but never giving it away. He then walked towards an old Nimbus 1994, picked it up and walked back to Oliver, the broom over his shoulder. Oliver took the broom from Goyle and surveyed it all.

"What's the problem exactly?" Oliver asked, examining the bristles of the broom.

"Well, it's uncomfortable when I sit on it," Goyle said shyly, looking down. Oliver then mounted the broom, and winced.

"Yeah, it is." Oliver said, shifting uncomfortably in his place on the broom. "I'll ask Hooch to look at it for you," Oliver then dismounted the broom. Goyle looked at Oliver sadly and then spoke.

"Oliver, I didn't want you here for the broom." Goyle grabbed Oliver's arms. "I want you." And with that, Goyle pulled Oliver towards him and laid his lips upon Oliver's. For five seconds, it was heaven on Earth, but Oliver pushed Goyle away and then help his arms.

"Goyle, I-" Oliver said but didn't finish because he threw his arms around Goyle's neck, pulled him in, and re-initiated the kiss. Lips on lips, lust and power flowed through each other, cursing through their veins and when the kiss ended, both of the two men were out of breath, leaning on the nearest sturdy thing.

When he caught his breath, Oliver was first to speak.

"Err, well, is that it?" Oliver smiled at his own joke and then raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Goyle said, "Yeah." Then both men came out of the closet and joined the thong on students on their way to morning lesson, never acknowledging each other.