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Willows and Wood. by ValWitch21
Chapter 6: From Normandy to Ioannina
And so I leaned in and kissed him.
Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise, but he kissed me back instantly. I smiled against his lips, perfectly aware of the shivers going up my spine that had nothing to do with the cold water. However, as quickly as it had started, the kiss was broken as Oliver pulled away.
“Kim, what are you doing?”
“I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that I should have done this before.”
The left corner of his mouth lifted up a little. “Why, am I that good a kisser?”
I snorted derisively. “Perhaps.”
“Maybe you haven’t had enough to give an assured answer,” he breathed, a hairline away from mouth.
“Bring it on, Wood.”
He grinned, briefly pressing his lips to mine, before drawing back immediately with a horrified look on his face.
“I’m sorry, Kim, I can’t do this.”
I stared him straight in the eye, hurt. “Why?”
“It makes me feel like shit using you like this.”
“Look, Oliver,” I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. “I’m the one who kissed you in the first place, and it didn’t feel like you were using me.”
I silenced him with a kiss, and this time he responded fiercely, prying my mouth open with his while I let my hands roam under his shirt.
When we did stop for breath, I let out a shaky laugh. “We’re still sitting in the middle sea.”
He smiled at me. “Do you want to go back?”
“Nope. But I think we shouldn’t stay here either.”
“Where to then?”
The Hôtel du Port was a small building by the docks, and the receptionist looked barely surprised as Oliver and I walked in past two in the morning, dripping wet and cheeks red.
“Chambre 18, deuxième étage,” she handed me a key. “Il y a des serviettes propres et un sèche-cheveux.”
“Merci,” I thanked her. In my normal state, I would have been worried about her opinion of us, but I actually couldn’t care less.
The room was small, painted blue, and beams were visible on the ceiling. The door shut with a soft thud behind us, and we were alone.
It seemed different in the artificial lighting of the room, more awkward, less plausible.
“I’m going to shower,” I whispered. I didn’t dare be brusque, for fear of sending Oliver running away full speed.
There was no need to worry: when I came out of the bathroom five minutes later wrapped in a towel, he was still there.
“This seems to become some kind of routine,” Oliver grinned at me before closing the door.
I rapidly conjured up a pair of cotton sorts and a large shirt, and once I’d dried my clothes I sat on the bed cross-legged, thinking.
I would have to tell Oliver the truth soon if I wanted to build something with him. I couldn’t wait too long, but it was out of the question that I would tell him tonight. I needed him with me, and knowing his temper I wasn’t sure he’d stay when he’d found out I had been lying to him for the past five months.
I didn’t have the time to ponder any longer because Oliver was back already. He sat down opposite of me, copying my posture.
“You look worried.”
“I’m okay. Sleepy, but otherwise fine.”
He frowned a little, but it quickly disappeared, as he leant back into the pillows, arm crossed behind his head. I followed suit, naturally resting my head on his shoulder.
“So,” his breath tickled the top of my head, “how long have you liked me?”
I choked. “How presumptuous can you get?”
“Very. Answer the question.”
I felt myself go red. “I don’t know.”
“You’re lying. Tell me.”
I didn’t even have to look at him to hear the smirk in his voice. “I had a crush on you in first and second year,” I mumbled.
“What happened afterwards?”
“You left, and I didn’t have you thrust under my eyes at every corner.” He didn’t need to know that I read the articles about him in Quidditch Weekly for the following six months.
“You’ve waited seven years?” He sounded disbelieving.
“Oi, don’t give yourself too much credit! I’ve dated since then, and thoughts of you were not present in my brain when I was being snogged. What about you?”
“How long have you been waiting for me to kiss you?” I teased.
I shot up, staring at him with eyes the size of Hagrid’s plates. “Last summer?!”
He had gone an interesting shade of red. “When we came to scout the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match at the end of the year. I recognised you when you hurtled down onto the pitch after Cat fell off her broom. Let’s just say you hadn’t gotten uglier.” I squirmed, uneasy, but he continued. “And then there was that game against the Tornadoes, and I decided to test you. I wasn’t too sure what to expect, but that bite mark stung for a few days. After that you decided to Apparate into my changing room; then there was that food fight followed by the conversation by the pool and in your room, and I started to think we could get along quite well. And then you told us all you were pregnant, and I realised you were inaccessible to me.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but was cut off by Oliver bringing a finger to my lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, before getting even more sentimental.”
He caught my wrists and pulled me onto him, careful of not squashing Bludger who had been surprisingly calm since our walk to the hotel. There was nothing awkward about my straddling him this time, and Cat would not be walking in.
I really should have started kissing Oliver Wood sooner than this.
I was woken up by his regular breathing down my neck. We seemed to be repeating so many situations we had both been in before, it was almost frightening. Except that I felt no need to flee today. His arm was slung over me, pinning me to the bed, and I felt safe.
It took about half an hour for Oliver to wake up as well.
“Morning,” he whispered into my hair. His grasp loosened, and I turned to face him.
“You too,” I smiled. “What time is it?”
He yawned, but rolled onto his back to get a proper look at his watch. “Noon.”
“Cat must be worrying herself sick,” I bit my lip nervously. “I should let her know where we are.”
I motioned to get out of bed, but Oliver caught me before I could do anything. “Stay,” he grumbled sleepily.
I sighed, but snuggled into him nonetheless. He put his hands back around me, and I quickly felt his chest rising and falling against my back.
I was starting to fall asleep as well when his hands started creeping up my shirt. So the nasty bastard hadn’t been sleeping…
“Please proceed, I’m fast asleep,” I muttered for the sake of it. It’s not like I truly disliked it.
“Are you then? So you won’t mind if I do this,” his fingers crept up to my bra, leaving a tingling trail behind them, “or this,” he kissed my neck, “or this?” His fingers moved to the clasp of said bra.
I didn’t answer, smiling into the pillows as his fingers traced light patterns on my skin. He continued this game for quite some time, waiting for an inexistent reaction on my part. Let him get frustrated.
I was absolutely not expecting him to nip at my earlobe, and at that I let out a very small gasp. He heard it though, and I almost heard his devilish smile in return.
Satisfied, he rolled me onto my back, locking his grey eyes with my blue ones. I struggled to keep an emotionless face on, and his smile vanished, replaced by a look of intense irritation.
“Such a tease,” he grunted, easing my shirt up to reveal my stomach. He planted a kiss on my belly button, leaving is lips to linger there for a moment.
Bludger kicked him in the face.
“What the fuck was that?” he massaged the corner of his lip.
“That would be the baby kicking,” I sat up, looking at him worriedly.
“Doesn’t it hurt you?”
“I’ve gotten used to it.”
“You should get a statue.” His eyes started twinkling mischievously as he looked at me. “Although not one of you in the state you’re going to be in soon.”
He leaned forward, tugging my t-shirt over my head, then sent me tumbling backwards with a simple push of his hand. “Let’s see if you can still play hard to get now.” He lowered himself on top of me carefully, kissing my collarbone, moving closer and closer to my breasts, while my heart thumped wildly against my ribcage.
When his mouth made contact with the crease in between my breasts, I moaned before I could stop myself, and almost knocked Oliver off the bed with the force I kissed him with.
I knotted my fingers in his hair while he unclasped my bra – finally – and pried my lips open with his tongue. Somewhere in the process his shirt landed at the other end of the room. We were so deeply concentrated on the snogging that I barely realised when we fell off the bed, landing on the floor, hands still all over one another.
I tugged at the waistband of his boxers while he pulled my shorts down.
I couldn’t get pregnant anyway.
I lay on the floor next to Oliver, breathing heavily, the bed sheets sprawled out under our naked bodies.
“That went a bit fast, didn’t it?” He was also trying to pick up a normal breathing rhythm again.
“Maybe. Months of URST as Cat would put it.”
“Unresolved sexual tension.”
He laughed. “That must be it.” His face grew more serious again. “Promise me I didn’t force you into anything.”
“Oliver, you have to stop thinking that just because there’s a six year difference between us I’m incapable of making decisions. No, you didn’t force me, and I think that was quite obvious.”
He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I do remember you telling me some time ago you had powerful lungs, but I hadn’t realised it also applied to this kind of situation.”
I felt my cheeks burn, but sniffed disdainfully. “Yeah, that wasn’t too bad.”
“Don’t start again,” Oliver warned me, “or I’ll feel obliged to prove you wrong, and as much as I would like to, I think we should really be getting back to London.”
As it turns out, we didn’t go back immediately after that. There were more, ahem, interesting things to do.
Cat wasn’t back at the flat yet. Oliver and I had thought it was more practical to go there, though not particularly polite towards Maya and Liam. I’d apologise to them later. Knowing Maya, she would frown until I told her the reasons for my disappearance.
We were both sitting on my bed, my head in Oliver’s lap.
“We need to decide where that leaves us,” I informed him.
He stopped drawing circles on my stomach with his thumb. “You tell me. Do we call this a one-day stand?”
“I think,” I blushed, “that I wouldn’t mind seeing you again in this kind of context, Mister Wood.”
“Neither would I, Miss Willows.”
“What about the others though? Do we tell them? It seems a bit premature…”
“How about we don’t tell them before Ioannina, see if they figure it out for themselves?” I shrugged, undecided. “It also makes matters more exciting for us,” Oliver lowered his voice to a seductive growl.
I went even redder, but grinned. “I feel like I’m some sort of scarlet woman.”
“Scarlet woman? What kind of person says that apart from Madam Pince?”
I laughed at the memory of the Hogwarts librarian, and Oliver continued, screeching in a high-pitched voice. “Students canoodling in the library! Out! OUT!”
A sudden crash came from the corridor, and I clamped a hand to his mouth. “Cat,” I whispered. “You have to go, now.”
He nodded and stood up, but, instead of Apparating away, went straight into my closet, pulling the door closed.
My mouth fell open, but I quickly recomposed myself, just as Cat walked into the room.
“Well,” she tapped her foot insistently, “where were you today, young lady?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that yesterday I couldn’t bear to sleep with Wood so I Apparated back here, and this morning I felt terrible because the baby kicked all night, and I’ve only been asleep between eight this morning and half an hour ago.”
She seemed sceptical, but didn’t question my terrible excuse. “What about Wood?”
“What do you mean, what about Wood?” Using his family name seemed extremely unnatural now.
“Why wasn’t he there either?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t with him! Maybe he felt uncomfortable being there and having to explain my absence to Liam’s mum.”
Cat’s foot stopped moving, and I knew this battle was won. “That woman is terrible. She asked me what kind of job I was going to get when my little Quidditch frenzy,” she drew speech marks in the air, “was over. She also tutted because apparently my ring wasn’t colour-coordinated with my shoes last night, and this morning I could see her counting the number of sugars I put in my coffee.”
I laughed. “How was she with Maya?”
Cat shook her head. “Even worse. Asked her when she was going to start popping out children, and invited herself over for tea this afternoon at their place. Maya begged me and Dad to be there as well, I should be leaving soon.”
“How long are you leaving?”
“Two hours, why? Do you want to be there?”
“No thanks,” I scoffed, “not with Liam’s mother around. It’s just that you still have you suitcase for Ioannina to prepare.”
“Plenty of time,” she waved the fact away. “Okay. I’ll see you this evening, I’ve invited the team over. The first few people might turn up while I’m not there yet, can you let them in?”
“Sure thing. Have fun!” I called as she spun around on her heel. She still had the time to flash me the finger.
Oliver was next to me as soon as Cat had disappeared. “So, I’m supposed to be here this evening, am I?”
“Mmhm,” I was already unbuttoning his shirt. “That means no one will over know you were here before that.”
He grinned at me. “Are we perhaps having issues controlling our hormones, Kim Bethany?”
I pulled him to me by the collar. “Maybe. Does anybody care? No. Do you mind? Certainly not. Do I? Fuck no. Are you a good shag? That is yet to be determined.”
Oliver let out a roar, before kissing me hard.
I’d won again.
Although seeing as it was the third time that day, I’d say this was beneficial for both of us.
Cat came back from practice on the twentieth with a bright smile on her face.
“What’s going on?” I asked wearily. I hadn’t been able to see Oliver for two days, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was missing him already. Oh, of course I had seen him, but it was always in the presence of the others or from a distance and kissing was absolutely out of the question. It made far more cranky than I would ever tell.
“We’re leaving tomorrow for Ioannina instead of in three days!”
“So I am going to be alone for my birthday, I don’t see how that’s thrilling news.”
“Oh, that. You’re coming with us.”
“Well, Tim pointed out that for the press you were Oliver’s fiancée, and that your absence at such a big match for us would be strange. So, well, there you go.”
I was overly happy, but common sense reminded me that being referred to as Oliver’s fiancée would have annoyed the shit out of my normal self. “Wait. Does that mean I have to share a room with Wood again?”
“Yeah,” Cat looked apologetic, “and there’s no way for you to get out of this one. Though we are going to a wizard hotel, so you will able to use magic and split the bed.”
“Well, I’ll have to deal with it, but I’d rather that than stay here and mope with a tub of Häagen Dazs.”
“I guessed as much,” Cat clapped her hands excitedly. “Now go and pack!”
Ioannina was beautiful. The lakeside was still green at this time of the year, the sky blue and free of clouds save from a few wispy strands, and temperatures were high enough for reckless people like Puddlemere team members and myself to go swimming.
As soon as the Portkey had made us all land in the front hall of the hotel, Oliver got down to business.
“So, I’m going to go and see the stadium. Who wants to go?”
There was a chorus of groans. Greg eventually spoke up. “Listen, mate, we’re all tired, and the swimming pool here is too interesting. Get Kim to go with you if you want, but we’re not moving.”
In a scary simultaneous movement, everyone else nodded, while Oliver looked at me expectantly. I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go, but I will get back at you for this. All of you owe me.”
Cat shrugged. “It’s your role here anyway. Hanging off Wood’s arm and acting like his fiancée. You accepted to come, deal with it.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’ll owe me more than anyone else, Carmen.”
She laughed, grabbed Tim by the arm and made her way towards the stairs, which I supposed led to the bedrooms. “Come on,” she called out, “let’s go get changed to swim while Kiwi here goes to analyse every blade of grass of Ioannina’s Quidditch pitch!”
They followed her, guffawing and talking loudly, while I caught hold of Oliver’s arm as we left the building behind us.
As soon as our feet hit the grass, Oliver caught my lips with his, and it took all of my remaining self-control –that is to say, very little – not to strip him naked then and there. I was a complete hormonal disaster.
“These past two days have been terrible,” I mumbled in between kisses. “We need to tell them the truth because I can’t go through this again.”
“Hooked already?” He kissed me again.
“Not as much as you are.”
He didn’t bother answering, merely crashing his lips to mine again.
When we finally stopped for air, lips swollen, Oliver smiled crookedly at me. “Happy birthday, love.”
“Thank you,” I kissed him briefly again. “Should we go and see the rest of the place then?”
Oliver paced the stadium notes in hand for the following four and a half hours, and I could see him placing his players on the pitch as he moved, while I watched him from the commentator’s box.
Cat hadn’t been joking about him analysing every blade of grass.
When he finally joined me, I stretched with relief. “Are we leaving?”
“Nope. We haven’t seen the locker rooms yet, and I thought you might want to see them with me.”
I can be so innocent sometimes. Once we had walked in, I turned to him, bored. “So? It’s not very different from Puddlemere.”
He snorted. “I’m sure I can make this place more memorable than any locker room on this planet.”
Finally catching his train of thought, I started analysing my nails. “Oh? I would like to see that.”
“Are you playing this unconcerned act only to turn me on?”
I grinned maliciously at him. “Possibly. Is it working?”
He was pulling my shirt off even before he answered. “Fuck yes.”
I took his hands away, standing there only in my shorts and bra. “What about this, is it working?” I joined my elbows in front of my chest.
He eyed me hungrily. “Yes.”
“And if I do this?” I let my hands creep under his shirt, feeling him shiver.
“Yes,” he croaked.
“And now if I were to lean in to kiss you…”
I was pressed up against the lockers before I had a chance to finish my sentence.
I never found my left earring again.
“AND PAPADAKIS PASSE TO GIANOPOULOS, GIANOPOULOS TO SARKIS,SARKIS TO STAMOS, STAMOS THROWS THE QUAFFLE AND WOOD BLOCKS IT AGAIN! It’s still 90 to 70 for Puddlemere United, no, make that 100 to 70 because Rodriguez has just scored again. Jones catches the Quaffle – is that a Bluger? It was a Bludger, ladies and gentlemen, but Peters sent it towards Hero – Jones to the other Peters, Peters back to Rodriguez, Rodriguez to Jones and Alexander Jones scores!”
I bit my lip anxiously, watching as Sarkis caught the Quaffle mid air and tossed it through the hoops, scoring for Ioannina. The game was quite balanced: Puddlemere would score regularly, then Ioannina scored three or four goals in one go. And neither Tim nor Apollo Hero (poor guy, with a name like that) had spotted the Snitch yet, though the game had been on for over an hour.
Oliver had just let another goal through when the commentator’s voice echoed through the pitch: “It would seem that Bailey has spotted the Snitch! He is being closely tailed by Hero, nasty Herbert Barrel diversion there, Bailey accelerates, and… THERE WE GO, SUPERB TEMPLAR DIVE FOR BAILEY WHO CATCHES THE SNITCH! PUDDLEMERE WINNER BY 260 TO 100!”
The pitch roared with the shouts of everybody, while I jumped out of my seat and ran out of the VIP lodge and down the stairs to the player’s entrance, barging onto the pitch just as Oliver landed.
I threw myself into his arms. “You won,” I screamed loudly to cover the noise of the audience. “You bloody won!”
I didn’t even think about what I was doing, but I stood up on the tip of my toes and kissed him full on the mouth, Bludger kicking like crazy in between us. Oliver tossed his broom to the side, wrapping his arms around me.
In the midst of the voices of the hundreds of people watching us kiss, I heard Cat yell.
“Didn’t I bloody tell you so?! YOU ALL OWE ME A GALLEON!”
A/N: I know, it's about time! For them to get together, and for me to update!
I would love to hear your thoughts about this chapter,even if it's just one line.
And I know, Kiwi and Oliver are shagging like rabbits. Please remember she is controlled by the pregnancy hormones, and, on a side note, they have both been waiting for this far too long.
Reviews are love.
The receptionist's bit in French means "Room 18, second floor. There are clean towels and a hair-dryer."