O Captain, My Captain
by Laura Smith

Oliver jogged after the rest of the team, his scarlet robes flying out behind him. He swiped the leather glove across his forehead, heedless of the streak of dirt that replaced the streak of sweat he'd wiped away.

He'd almost caught up to the rest of the team when the Hufflepuff locker room door opened and Cedric Diggory walked out. Wood nodded to him. "Pitch is all yours. We've cleared off for the night."

"We're not practicing," Cedric admitted. "I just thought I'd fly around a bit, have a little fun with the Snitch."

"Right, well," Oliver nodded. "We've got a post-practice rundown."

Cedric nodded and waved. "See ya."


"I don't believe him." Angelina groaned and shoved her hair out of her face. "First he keeps us here until all hours of the night and then we find out we can't shower because the pipe is broken? I feel like I've been wearing these clothes for days."

"We'll get back to Gryffindor and shower," Katie assured her. "Maybe we can manage to get Percy to let us use the Prefect's bathroom."

"Oh," Angelina sighed as they headed toward the castle. "That'd be amazing."

"Oh," Fred clasped his hands together and swooned, leaning against George. "A bath would be divine. I think I need a gallon of smelly bubbles so that everyone in the entire common room can tell I'm coming from down in the Great Hall."

"Given how you smell now," George shoved him off and gave Harry a huge grin, "I'd have to agree with you."

Harry laughed, dodging out of the way as Fred shoved George back. "I think all of us could use a bath. Or a shower. Or a swim in the lake."

"I think Harry wants to be all naked and wet, George," Fred batted his eyes. "It's a good thing he's telling us, as if there were still girls present, we'd probably have to fight them off with a stick. 'Ooooh,'" he adopted a high falsetto, " 'I want to scrub down the Boy-Who-Lived!'"

"Sod off, Fred." Harry glanced back at the locker room. "You comin', Oliver?"

"Nah. I think I'm going to fly a bit more. Work up another sweat."

"Okay," Harry waved and hurried to catch up with the twins.

Oliver returned the gesture then rested his broom on his shoulder, heading toward the pitch. The torches were lit, but low, the dying sun giving the entire field a reddish hue. He caught sight of Cedric, his yellow robes streaming behind him as he dove sharply, his gaze locked on the small golden ball speeding away from him.

Straddling his broom, Oliver swept up into the air, smiling as he felt the air stream around him. He headed for Cedric, his gaze on him rather than the Snitch, matching his movements as easily to him as he did to the Quaffle when it sped toward him. Turning his broom down, he dove alongside Cedric, pulling up beside him, both of them panting hard as they came to a stop mere inches above the ground. Cedric's hand was wrapped around the struggling Snitch, Oliver's around his.

"What are you on about, Oliver?" Cedric turned his head, his broom slowly settling so that he was sitting again, no longer pointing face down at the ground. He glanced back at their hands, both sets of knuckles tight and white. "Thinking of giving up the Keeper position? I think Potter might not like you going after the Seeker's spot."

"Not the spot I want," Oliver panted slightly, his breath suddenly heavy in his lungs. "Just the Seeker."

Cedric jerked away, his normally clear eyes rife with confusion. "Potter's not here."

"Wrong Seeker." Oliver hopped off his broom and shouldered it. "Gryffindor's showers are busted. Use yours?"

"I..." Cedric shook his head, struggling to clear it. His back was wet with sweat, his robes clinging to him, the cool night air beginning to cause him to shiver. Oliver's eyes were intense as always, the burning strength and desire in them glowing as they held Cedric's. "Yeah."

Oliver nodded and stood there, waiting until Cedric passed him to move. He fell in step with the younger boy, keeping distance between them as they started toward the locker room. The silence between them shifted to uncomfortable as they neared the imposing buildings that housed the locker rooms for all four houses. Cedric paused outside the door and turned back to Oliver. Oliver cocked an eyebrow. "I'll go get my things?"

"There's...you can borrow my stuff." Cedric blushed hotly. "I mean, I'll wait."

"Just need some clothes to change into." Oliver jogged over to the door to the Gryffindor room, disappearing inside for a moment. Cedric shifted his stance, wondering if it would be better or worse to just disappear inside and lock the door. Heat he didn't understand coiled in his stomach like a snake, hissing darkly through his blood as it pounded in his veins. Oliver came out of the building, a bag slung over his shoulder, the corner of his robe flapping in the slight breeze. He stopped in front of Cedric, his eyes still burning, the sharp heat that made Oliver Wood who he was making the sudden dusk uncomfortably warm.

"Let's..." Cedric gestured to the building then slipped in through the door, his face flushed, his body flushed. Everything inside him felt as if it were boiling and he glanced back at Oliver, unsure if it was to make sure he was following or because he was hoping that he wasn't.

The room was deserted, Cedric's clothes sprawled over the bench in front of his locker, jeans and shoes and shirt spread out as if he'd done some sort of striptease. Oliver's eyes grazed over them, a slight smile curling his lips as he looked up at Cedric. "You're not wearing a Tornados shirt, are you?"

"They're a decent team." Cedric laughed lightly. "Besides, a little humility never hurt anyone." He looked pointedly at Oliver. "Whenever I get too cocky," he gulped as the word left his lips, felt Oliver's eyes drop down as if they were fingers touching him. "I wear the shirt."

"You can't be too cocky," Oliver assured him, dropping his bag on the floor in front of Cedric's locker. He reached behind him and grabbed his Quidditch robe, tugging it over his head. Cedric made a soft noise he couldn't control and quickly walked to the other end of the bench, unfastening the front of his robe, his eyes locked on Oliver's body as he dropped the crimson robe.

Oliver ignored Cedric, tugging the white t-shirt he wore away from his still slick skin, sweat causing it to cling to the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, the dark hair sprinkled over his chest standing out darkly against the damp material.

"What," Cedric cleared his throat as Oliver pulled the shirt over his head and used it to rub beneath his arms, the dark hair shadowing the tanned skin stretched over his torso, "what're you going to do next year?"

"After graduation, you mean?" Oliver turned so that he was facing Cedric. The younger boy's eyes scanned Oliver's face then dropped down to his chest, from the hard nubs of Oliver's nipples to the trail of hair that disappeared into the dirty white pants that seemed to cling to the hard muscles of Oliver's thighs like a second skin. "I've gotten a few requests to try out for some teams."


"Tornados even," Oliver grinned and began unfastening the front of his uniform pants. The thick leather laces slipped through the silky white material making a quick hissing sound as they slid free of the restrictive fabric. "They need a back-up Keeper."

"Oh." Cedric watched helplessly as Oliver sank down onto the bench and worked off his shoes and socks, letting them pile neatly on the floor before he stood up again and stripped off his pants. "What're those?"

Oliver glanced down and grinned, "My cousin got 'em for me. They're some Muggle invention. Boxer-briefs." His hand moved over his hip then down over his cock, the hard flesh pressed tightly against the material. "They're great for playing. Sporty, you know?"

Cedric nodded wordlessly, his eyes trained on Oliver's hand. "Er...yeah."

Oliver slid his hand back up and hooked two fingers under the waistband of the briefs on each side. Without a word, he slipped them down and stepped out of them, tossing them on the pile of his sweaty Quidditch uniform before grabbing a towel and heading for the showers.


Steam curled around the room like a living thing, swirling and trailing over Cedric's skin like fingers as he walked into the showers, his gaze held captive by the slick, wet body of Oliver Wood as he stood motionless beneath the pounding spray. He moved next to him, turning on his own shower, still unable to look away.

"You have a girlfriend?"


Oliver opened his eyes and turned his head so that he was looking at Cedric. His eyes stayed fixed on the Cedric's. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Er, not really, no." He tilted his head, the overpowering heat in the room doing nothing to calm his suddenly rushing heart. "I mean, there's someone. That I like. But she's not my..." He stopped as Oliver grabbed a bar of soap, not looking at him any longer as he began lathering his hands. "No. Why?"

"Curious," Oliver shrugged and began running his hands over his body, leaving trails of crisp bubbles in their wake. "Being Captain, it's tough, isn't it? I mean, there's this whole onus of responsibility but then there's the great perks, right?" He massaged his chest with the bar and bubbles, his skin white and tan and slick and slippery. "All the girls ready to drop their knickers for you."

"Yeah. But she's, er, she's not like that. The girl I like." Cedric blushed and watched Oliver's hand slip lower, white outlining the dark hairs of his lower abdomen. "She plays too."

"On your team?" Oliver asked lightly, his hand snaking ever lower, curving around his erection. Cedric's eyes fell on the stiff flesh and stayed there, watching Oliver's hand as it moved around the base, around his balls. "Dangerous, that."

"No. Ravenclaw." Cedric licked his lips, watching Oliver in fascination as he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it twice, the soap sliding over the thick shaft. "I won't...er, I discourage dating on the same team."

"Good policy," Oliver assured him. "Though I've found there's nothing wrong with a good, congratulatory shag now and then."

"Katie?" Cedric asked, his throat dry as Oliver's hand slid back to the base of his cock and moved down to his balls, massaging them lightly again, his eyes hot on Cedric's own erection, the thick red shaft rigid as it extended from the bed of sandy hair at its base.

"Or George," Oliver smiled. "Both once."

"Oh." Cedric swallowed hard as Oliver licked his lips. "I..."

"Come here, Cedric." Oliver's tone brooked no argument and Cedric moved forward, his feet obeying the insistent command of his cock. Oliver didn't smile, his face set in concentration, his mind clearly no longer anywhere but in the game. They were too close, Cedric's cock sliding along the soapy length of Oliver's as he stepped into him. Oliver's breath was hotter than the steaming water. "What do you want?"

Cedric didn't answer, his hand curving around Oliver's cock, smoothing over the slippery flesh. His soft moan floated in the pounding pulse as he stroked the older boy, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, drowning in sensation and spray as Oliver's soapy hand closed around him.

Oliver's mouth moved over Cedric's neck, his hand sliding slowly along the length of Cedric's cock. His teeth nipped at the raging pulse, Cedric's gasps coming rapidly from between parted lips. Cedric released Oliver, pushing him away slightly, bending over, his hands on his knees, fighting to catch his breath. Oliver watched him through narrowed, cat-like eyes, the glittering light in them almost fanatical.

Oliver ran a hand along Cedric's spine, watching him shiver. He let his hand slide lower, over Cedric's ass, smoothing over the sleek curve. Cedric straightened, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at Oliver. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wary and hungry. "Oliver?"

Oliver brought a callused hand to Cedric's face, caressing his soft cheek, the rough tingle of stubble just coming out on his cheeks. "You know the feeling you get when you see the Snitch before the other team does? That hot rush that floods through you and you grip your broom so tight because you know you're going to fly like the hounds of hell are right behind you because that Snitch will be yours?"

Cedric nodded, mesmerized.

Oliver's hand slid down and wrapped around Cedric's cock, stroking it slowly. "Do you feel it now?"

He nodded again.

Oliver released Cedric and, with rough but gentle hands, turned him around so he was facing the wall. He trailed his fingertips down Cedric's spine, letting them linger at the upper curve of his ass. "And now?"

Cedric swallowed and nodded, his lips parting on a sound he didn't recognize. Oliver reached beneath the showerhead to the small basket that hung there, pulling a bottle of shampoo free. Cedric watched the play of muscles under Oliver's skin as he squeezed the bottle, a shimmering blue liquid pooling in his hand. The snap of the lid startled Cedric and he jumped, his hand scrambling against the smooth tile for purchase.

Oliver moved behind Cedric and wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling the younger boy's body hard against his. His cock pressed hard and hot against Cedric's ass, his hand resting just above Cedric's cock. "And now?" He whispered.

Cedric panted roughly, swallowing and panting again. He whimpered as Oliver released him, leaning against the tile, hoping for a measure of cool in the overwhelming heat of the room. He opened his eyes and watched Oliver as he stood behind him, turning his hand so the blue gel ran onto his cock. He stroked it with his other hand, his slippery fingers moving toward Cedric.


His fingers brushed between the globes of Cedric's ass, sleek and slick as one pressed to the tight muscles. Cedric moaned and closed his eyes, turning his head. He opened them again, staring at the ground as another finger penetrated him, his fingers curling into fists as Oliver very slowly, very deliberately began thrusting his fingers inside him.

Cedric gasped, shuddering fiercely. Oliver moved closer, his thighs surrounding one of Cedric's legs, his cock pressed hard to the hair-roughened flesh. He slipped another finger inside Cedric, groaning low as Cedric bucked back against him, panting his name.

Oliver leaned over and pressed his forehead to Cedric's back, the water splashing on the floor around them. "Now?" He gasped, his tongue darting out to chase a rivulet down Cedric's spine.

"Now," Cedric nodded, pleaded, begged. Oliver groaned hotly and removed his fingers, angling his body behind Cedric's. He grasped his cock, pressing the slick tip to the taut muscle for a moment before rolling his hips forward and sliding into the tight channel. "Oh," Cedric gasped, his whole body shaking. "Merlin."

Oliver's hands moved to Cedric's hips, grasping them tightly, fingers digging into his skin. His breath was hot against Cedric's back as he pushed deeper, stilling for a moment, the world around them narrowed to the rush of water, the rush of blood. Cedric's hands slipped slightly, his palms sweaty against the pristine white tile, his body still alive with tremors.

Oliver bent his head and rested it against Cedric's back, the long brush of his eyelashes sweeping his skin. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, firm and hard against Cedric's back before he released it, his grip tightening again as his hips begin moving, his fingers leaving marks on Cedric's skin, miniature bruise colored Quaffles or Snitches frozen in flesh.

Cedric's arm slid up the wall, his entire forearm pressed against it to support him as Oliver moved inside him, rhythmic, rough thrusts coupled with hard, hot breaths, his body moving with the same fluid grace he showed on the broom, on the pitch. Cedric rested his forehead against his arm and closed his eyes, moaning as his other hand snaked down and wrapped around his cock.

The Snitch was delicate and fragile and as such required the same delicate handling as his cock, something Cedric forgot about as Oliver's teeth grazed his shoulder and began pumping inside him in earnest, his cock thrusting deeper and harder, pressing so deeply inside him he wanted to scream, taking out the need on his own cock, stroking it in time with every thrust, heat and sweat making his skin slick, pre-come sticking to his fingers and palm as he thrust back into Oliver, bodies colliding with the soft slap of flesh.

"Oliver," Cedric panted roughly, the sound falling from his lips with every stroke, broken and stuttered as the Keeper's hands shook on his hips, holding him tighter and tighter, his legs growing taut as they pressed against Cedric's, his arm muscles bunching as he shuddered and groaned, his hands sliding, palms down over Cedric's hips to the skin at the base of his cock, framing the hard flesh with his fingers as he came inside him. Cedric jerked viciously, his hand nearly as invisible as a darting Snitch as it played over the head of his cock, finally freezing then thrusting once, his orgasm spilling between his fingers onto the shower floor.


Oliver pulled away from him slowly, his wry smile back in place, the light in his eyes dimmed somewhat. He stepped back under the shower spray without a word, letting the still hot water run down his skin. Cedric turned and watched him, leaning against the wall for support, his whole body aching as if he'd just been beaten with a Bludger Bat by both Weasleys.

"Come here."

Cedric did as Oliver commanded, suddenly wondering about his own Captaincy. Did he inspire such loyalty? Oliver stepped back and allowed the hot, rough spray to dance over Cedric's skin, touching him with gentle hands as he turned Cedric slowly, washing away sweat and come and shampoo. Cedric almost laughed, said something crude about shitting bubbles for a week, but then Oliver turned him around again and suddenly there was nothing to joke about.

Oliver turned off the water, walking over to grab his towel. He tugged Cedric's off the rack as well and tossed it over to him before wrapping his around his waist and heading back into the locker room. "We're going to kick your arse in tomorrow's match."

Cedric smiled and rubbed his wet hair as he walked. "You do that, Wood, and you won't be using our showers again."


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