(no subject)
School, blah. More about that over the weekend. I just wanted to post this.
Title: More than Quidditch
Rating: PG to be safe.
Ship: Harry/Oliver
Disclaimer: I don’t own.
Warnings/Notes: Not beta-ed. Short little drabble, written for me, because I needed some Harry/Oliver. It appears unrequited, but in my head they end up having ohsopassionatesex within two years you can imagine what happens next. I’m not sure, but I think about the time when this takes place Oliver might be overage and Harry might be underage. If that bothers you, please don’t read.
Despite popular belief, Oliver thinks of things besides Quidditch. Despite the fact that people have sworn their lives, and possibly their first-born child, on it Oliver occasionally has other things on his mind. Of course, the thing he thinks about most after Quidditch is one of his Quidditch players.
Oliver has thought a lot about Harry since he met him. He thought about how to train this genius of a player, how to use him best, how to keep him from getting hurt, how to tell him that he knows it wasn’t his fault, and lately these nagging thoughts that have grown from the back of his brain that are far beyond brotherly.
As much as Oliver may hate himself for it, sometimes these thoughts verge on obscene. He thinks about Harry’s fingertips, his eyes, his neck, and how he looks when he steps into the shower after a hard practice. The thoughts involving showers are normally the ones that evolve into brief fantasies Oliver kicks himself for, sometimes literally.
Oliver doesn’t mind the fact that it’s another boy. Oliver has known this for a while. It started when he would rant to his friend Lindsey not only about Quidditch, but about the way Quidditch players moved and Lindsey only fixed him with a blank stare. Then, there was always something beyond appreciation of talent when he admired the professional players. He knew he liked their bodies, but he didn’t get what it meant. When all the other boys in his year marveled over how Caitlin’s shirt nearly slipped off and what they almost saw for weeks, Oliver simply didn’t care.
No, Oliver knows he’s gay. It’s just the fact that it’s Harry that bothers him. It isn’t just some unreachable star, or a bloke he’s barely spoken to. It is younger, talented, and adorably modest Harry. Oliver cares about Harry in a more than if he wins the game kind of way. He knows its wrong. When Oliver can’t seem to stop staring at him he disgusts himself more than he can express.
Quidditch has always been Oliver’s passion, but when he’s around Harry, he finds it just something to distract him from what he’s actually thinking about. He can’t talk about anything else around Harry, because he might slip and say something, or stare too long.
It’s not as if Harry has overthrown Quidditch in Oliver’s thinking priorities. He still dreams about it and draws diagrams when he should be taking notes. Harry has nudged himself in. Quidditch is just the first layer.
fin
Thoughts?
Title: More than Quidditch
Rating: PG to be safe.
Ship: Harry/Oliver
Disclaimer: I don’t own.
Warnings/Notes: Not beta-ed. Short little drabble, written for me, because I needed some Harry/Oliver. It appears unrequited, but in my head they end up having ohsopassionatesex within two years you can imagine what happens next. I’m not sure, but I think about the time when this takes place Oliver might be overage and Harry might be underage. If that bothers you, please don’t read.
Despite popular belief, Oliver thinks of things besides Quidditch. Despite the fact that people have sworn their lives, and possibly their first-born child, on it Oliver occasionally has other things on his mind. Of course, the thing he thinks about most after Quidditch is one of his Quidditch players.
Oliver has thought a lot about Harry since he met him. He thought about how to train this genius of a player, how to use him best, how to keep him from getting hurt, how to tell him that he knows it wasn’t his fault, and lately these nagging thoughts that have grown from the back of his brain that are far beyond brotherly.
As much as Oliver may hate himself for it, sometimes these thoughts verge on obscene. He thinks about Harry’s fingertips, his eyes, his neck, and how he looks when he steps into the shower after a hard practice. The thoughts involving showers are normally the ones that evolve into brief fantasies Oliver kicks himself for, sometimes literally.
Oliver doesn’t mind the fact that it’s another boy. Oliver has known this for a while. It started when he would rant to his friend Lindsey not only about Quidditch, but about the way Quidditch players moved and Lindsey only fixed him with a blank stare. Then, there was always something beyond appreciation of talent when he admired the professional players. He knew he liked their bodies, but he didn’t get what it meant. When all the other boys in his year marveled over how Caitlin’s shirt nearly slipped off and what they almost saw for weeks, Oliver simply didn’t care.
No, Oliver knows he’s gay. It’s just the fact that it’s Harry that bothers him. It isn’t just some unreachable star, or a bloke he’s barely spoken to. It is younger, talented, and adorably modest Harry. Oliver cares about Harry in a more than if he wins the game kind of way. He knows its wrong. When Oliver can’t seem to stop staring at him he disgusts himself more than he can express.
Quidditch has always been Oliver’s passion, but when he’s around Harry, he finds it just something to distract him from what he’s actually thinking about. He can’t talk about anything else around Harry, because he might slip and say something, or stare too long.
It’s not as if Harry has overthrown Quidditch in Oliver’s thinking priorities. He still dreams about it and draws diagrams when he should be taking notes. Harry has nudged himself in. Quidditch is just the first layer.
fin
Thoughts?