Rematch

Rematch

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." These words, said at high volume, were punctuated by odd bumping noises, so it really should have been "Fuck. *thump* Fuck. *thump* Fuck. *thump*"

This was Oliver Wood, 7th year Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, standing in the shower and banging his head repeatedly on the tile. He wasn't, (as Fred had reported to the rest of the team,) trying to drown himself, but he was becoming rather successful at splitting cracks in the tile.

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Cedric Diggory stood in the Hufflepuff showers, the warmth of the water falling to every inch of his skin. His eyes were closed, a smile creeping across his lips as he remembered-he had won the Quidditch game against Gryffindor.

*Thump, thump, thump*

Cedric frowned and turned off the shower faucets to listen. What was that?

*Thump, thump, thump*

There it was again. Cedric reached for his towel and wiped himself dry. He pulled on his school robes and grabbed his new Nimbus 2000 broomstick his father had bought him for making Quidditch Captain this year, and headed for the locker room door.

*Thump, thump*- followed by an angry and muffled shout.

Cedric scampered from the Hufflepuff locker room below the stands. Outside, it was still raining and the wind was whipping across his face. The noise had come from the locker room next door, which was...

He stopped, looking up at the scarlet and gold sign labeled "GRYFFINDOR." The Hufflepuff Seeker hesitated. Gryffindor locker room? He knew he wasn't going to be welcome, not here and certainly not now.

But the noise went on. Someone could be in trouble... Cedric's sense of nobility kicked in.

Cautiously, Cedric pulled the doors open and the warmth of the Gryffindor locker room engulfed him, steam billowing out into the cold air. The locker room was surprisingly clean, while Hufflepuff's was dirty with mud and water tracked in from the Quidditch field. But then Cedric remembered that the team probably went up to see how their Seeker, Harry Potter, was doing in the hospital wing after falling from his broomstick. Who was still in the locker room then? There was only one set of muddy shoeprints, in which Cedric followed. A broomstick was carelessly thrown on the floor and muddy scarlet and gold Gryffindor Quidditch robes littered the benches. The sound of rushing water came from further in the locker room.

"Fuck! *thump* Fuck! *thump Fuck! *thump*"

Cedric edged towards the shower stalls and froze. A very wet, extremely furious, and wonderfully naked male figure was banging his head on the shower tiles. Oliver Wood. The blood drained to Cedric's lower body and he looked down at his robes. Umm, that shouldn't be happening, he thought.

His eyes traveled from Wood's short light brown hair to the rippling muscles in his shoulders. He then saw Wood's butt- firm, smooth, and so tempting! Cedric's heart started to beat faster. Normally shy, Cedric wanted to just grab Wood, slam him into the tiles, and do dirty things to him.

A low moan escaped from Cedric's lips. And then Oliver Wood turned around.

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Oliver, in the midst of his self-abuse, heard a small gasp over the sound of the water, and turned around tiredly. To his surprise, Hufflepuff's Captain, Cedric Diggory, stood in front of him. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats, and during that time Oliver's eyes traveled over the Hufflepuff's strong form. He was tall, taller than Oliver, broad-shouldered and well proportioned, all in all, a very good-looking chap, Oliver decided, glaring in resentment at the intruder. Cedric's eyes, however, seemed to be glued to the Gryffindor's body, so he missed the fact that Oliver was shooting daggers at him. His gaze traveled down and back up, and his hazel eyes were very wide.

After glaring at his opponent and seeing that it had absolutely no effect, Oliver lost his temper. "Diggory, what the fuck are you doing in here?!" The younger boy jerked, his eyes jumping up to meet Oliver's and then sparking away. Oliver was thoroughly enraged now, though he was aware somewhere in the back of his mind that he was taking out his anger on Diggory rather unfairly. But he didn't really care. "What, coming here to gloat? Bastard, get out of my locker room!" he shouted. Cedric glanced back up at him, temporarily distracted from his perusal of the gorgeous body by the Gryffindor's temper. This was only the first match-- it wasn't a big deal. But the poor sexy bloke just stood there, all dripping wet with a vein throbbing on his forehead. Cedric gathered his courage.

"Wood, I insist on a rematch." At these words, all the anger seemed to drain out of Oliver, and he sighed defeatedly.

"Look, it's okay. You won. How were you to know that would happen to Harry? None of us knew."

"Are you sure? It really doesn't seem fair," Cedric pressed doubtfully. Wood looked so mournful that Cedric was afraid he'd try to drown himself or something. Maybe crack his head open on those tiles-- that looked painful.

"Don't worry about it. But thanks Diggory. You seem like a good kid... and it's not the end of the world," he added, very unconvincingly.

Cedric nodded and blushed. "Thanks," he muttered, shyness returning, and glanced at the floor self-consciously, (having just remembered that Oliver was very naked.)

"Hey, are you alright, mate?" Oliver asked, watching as the Hufflepuff twitched.

"Y-yes, fine thanks," Cedric said, his voice a little high. Then Oliver noticed a rather... sizeable bulge in the front of the boy's robes, which he was obviously trying desperately to hide. Oliver's eyes widened in delight, and he suddenly felt much more cheerful.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing y-"

"Could you fetch my towel for me?" Oliver interrupted. "It's over there, on the bench," he said, pointing, and stepping out of the running water and fully into Cedric's sight.

"..." Cedric squeaked, cleared his throat, and nodded. He grabbed the fluffy maroon towel and held it out to him-- from about four feet away. Oliver rolled his eyes. "A bit closer? I don't want to slip and fall on my arse."

Cedric took a few more tentative steps toward him. Their eyes locked and Cedric regained a little of his trademark confidence and closed the gap between them. Oliver blinked and gazed up at Cedric with all the considerable sexiness he possessed.

"There is another way you can make it up to me. Call it... a more personal rematch."

The offer hung between them, and looking up into Wood's dancing brown eyes, Cedric was no longer afraid. He licked his lips and nodded. "Okay."

Their mouths met in a slow, exploratory kiss, and damn Cedric Diggory was one hell of a kisser. Oliver moaned and opened his eyes. Cedric's arms slid around his back, massaging gently, and Oliver wrapped his arms around the fifth year's neck. The towel slipped from between their bodies and was trampled on as their kisses grew more heated. Oliver's hands stroked through Cedric's hair, and panting, he pulled away. "Clothes. Off. Now." he gasped, tugging at Cedric's robes. He pushed them off the younger boy and chuckled in delight-- Cedric wasn't wearing anything underneath. "Do you go around like this often?" Oliver breathed, "Because it's quite a turn-on."

Cedric didn't respond, just kissed Oliver harder, his mouth dropping to taste the silky flesh of Oliver's throat. Oliver moaned, all attempt at conversation lost, and suddenly felt warm water pelting his back, then cool tiles as Cedric pressed him into the shower. Oliver swore again, but this time in a much different way. Cedric seemed to agree, hands skimming over Oliver, who gasped raggedly and thrust against Cedric's slick body.

"God, here, yes, this," Cedric moaned, grasping at Oliver's thighs. The Gryffindor obliged, wrapping his legs around Cedric's waist, Cedric's hands supporting him and his back pressed tightly to the wall. Oliver's hands clutched desperately at Cedric's strong shoulders. The steam and the water were like catalysts-- Cedric couldn't remember feeling like this, this utter abandonment, complete desperation; yes, Oliver's tongue sliding along his collarbone, burning his jaw. He pressed against Oliver hard, making him cry out.

"Ah, yes, Cedric, more, do it!" All capacity for speech long gone, Cedric could only obey. Oliver writhed against him, his eyes tightly shut. Cedric bit his lip... it was building up...

"Oliver!" he cried, legs finally buckling as he and the Gryffindor collapsed, Oliver stifling his cries in Cedric's neck.

The water beat down on them, and for a few moments, that and their breathing were the only sounds in the locker room. They lay close, chests rising and falling against each other. Oliver traced patterns on the skin beneath his fingertips. Cedric shifted, breathing warm air on Oliver's face and stirring his damp curls. Their lips met blindly and exchanged small, sweet kisses.

Eyes still half closed, Cedric stood, pulling Oliver up with him on unsteady legs. Oliver groaned and clutched his forehead where it pulsed from being hit repeatedly against a wall.

"You have issues with sado-masochism, you know," Cedric stated matter-of-factly as they stumbled towards the low couch outside of the showers.

"Tell me about it," Oliver mumbled as Cedric lowered him onto it and collapsed next to him, bare skin almost touching-- enough to send electric thrills through the both of them. Oliver lay back, pillowing his head on Cedric's thigh and staring up at him. He reached up and touched Cedric's face, and, noting the look of deep concentration on the Seeker's face, asked, "What?"

Cedric blushed and bit his lip. Oliver waited. "Well... what just happened?" he asked, sounding conflicted. "What does it mean?"

Oliver's brow furrowed. "What?"

Cedric gestured at him, then at himself, then waved to encompass the locker room. "This. Us." he said, voice low. "I don't understand... why I reacted the way I did..."

"Oh!" Oliver laughed. "You've never been attracted to another boy before, is that it?" At Cedric's reluctant nod, Oliver smiled, dimples creasing his cheeks. "Typical Hufflepuff," Oliver teased, making Cedric grin. "Don't worry about it... it doesn't mean you're gay, it doesn't mean you don't still like women..." Cedric nodded fervently, thoughts flashing briefly on a Ravenclaw Seeker. "...It doesn't really mean anything." Oliver finished, pulling Cedric down and kissing him.

"Yeah." Cedric breathed when they broke apart, muscles tightening reflexively. "But I still want you."

They were slow and languid this time, lips and tongues and hands coaxing wordless moans from them both. Soft flesh, smooth muscles, heady warmth, callused hands- everywhere at once. Tender and slow and agonizingly needed.

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms for a long while. Then, Oliver gently untangled himself and rose from the couch. He got dressed silently, watching the sleeping Hufflepuff from the corner of his eye. When he was ready to go, he covered the boy in his robes and kissed his forehead. The numbness that came from losing the match, temporarily forgotten, came back to Oliver. He swallowed the dull ache, turned to go, when Cedric's sleepy voice called out,

"Perhaps... we could make this a post-match tradition?"

In answer, Oliver turned and kissed Cedric, smiled, and left.

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