Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or any of the character herein. I do, however, own one fine imagination and will be using it liberally.

A/N: Thank you to those of you who read the story and especially to those of you who reviewed. I'm glad that you enjoyed the piece so far and hope that you continue to do so. I've tried to add a bit more detail to this chapter (and would like to do so to the first chapter as well if I can edit it without losing my reviews) at the request of a friend who enjoys my more descriptive pieces. That being said, three cheers for Cedric/Oliver love!

Also, I'm considering getting a beta reader, so if you want to help me out let me know and we can arrange something. Thanks.

Perfect in His Eyes

by firewithin

The mood of the Gryffindor team was sullen at best as they made their way back to the locker room. Oliver's team mates rushed to change so that they could go to the hospital wing and check on Harry, who had fallen at least fifteen meters off of his broom during the match right before Cedric Diggory had caught the Golden Snitch.

Within minutes nearly everyone had abandoned the locker room. Everyone, that is, but Oliver. He had taken the events of the day hard. It was the first match of the season and they had lost. Lost. Last place. The bottom of the rung. This was not a promising start to his last year as Captain. He had really thought that this would be Gryffindor's year too.

The whole match had been an absolute disaster. The weather had been abhorrent to begin with and then those bloody dementors had taken to the pitch. Oliver had known that it was over even before that though. He'd tried to warn him, but Harry simply hadn't seen the Snitch in time. They had lost, fair and square. Still...

Oliver slammed his fist into a nearby locker in a failed attempt to release some of his frustration. Carelessly dropping his drenched and mud caked Quidditch robe to the floor, he began to undress for a shower. Maybe the water would do him some good. Or, perhaps, he'd feel the overwhelming desire to drown himself instead.

As it turned out, the scalding hot water did help to melt away some of his frustrations. He was still bothered by the loss but was already trying to figure out how to keep his team in the running for the cup. Perhaps there was a bit of hope yet. Oliver had barely wrapped a towel around his narrow waist when he saw a flash of canary yellow speckled with mud at the door.

"Oliver?" Cedric called out tentatively before stepping into the locker room. "Oliver, I'm so sorry about the match. I didn't see Harry go off his broom until it was too late. I tried to talk Madam Hooch into setting up a rematch, but she wouldn't have any it."

"It's fine," Oliver said with a sigh, though his tone betrayed his words. "Even if Harry hadn't have fallen you would have gotten to the Snitch first. I saw it." He walked over to Cedric and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "It was your victory. Enjoy it, don't belittle it by saying you didn't deserve it. Besides," he continued, the sparkle back in his eyes, " there's still a chance we can make a come back. It'll be tough, but I have a good team." Oliver pulled the younger boy closer. They stood there holding each other, each lost in their own thoughts about the day. Finally, Oliver spoke again. "I am, however, still feeling quite upset about our abysmal showing on the field today and require some serious cheering up." He smiled playfully at the Hufflepuff Captain. "Now, how might you help ease the agony of my team's defeat?"

Cedric gave the older boy a soft, lingering kiss on the lips then moved down along his jaw. He continued to apply delicate kisses to the area before seizing a bit of the tender flesh of Oliver's neck. It took only a moment for a small purple bruise to form there, claiming Oliver as his.

"Careful," Oliver warned Cedric gently. "There will be questions about that, to be sure."

"Just tell everyone it's a secret romance. Our secret," Cedric whispered, his lips lightly brushing against Oliver's ear. "Now everyone will know that you belong to someone."

The Gryffindor Captain smiled warmly as he regarded Cedric. "Still, it's best if we stop for now. You, Cedric Diggory, are a tease and I don't think I can handle much more of it. Besides, " he chuckled, "I'm filthy again thanks to your Quidditch robes. And you look like you should get washed up yourself." He leaned in to kiss Cedric goodbye.

"When can we see each other again?" Cedric asked.

"Soon, I swear. You'd better go before someone starts to wonder where you've been off to."

Reluctantly, Cedric left for his own locker room and Oliver returned to the showers. He gently touched the love bite that Cedric had left on his neck and smiled contentedly as he let both the hot water and the happy memories of another blissful rendevous wash over him. He had never thought that some things could feel even better than winning a Quidditch match.