I Want to Give You a Gift

BY : Breezy
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 4124
Disclaimer: I own nothing relating to the Harry Potter universe and I make no money from this fiction.

The crowd swayed with the beat of the music pounding down the street. The Chudley Cannons had finally won a championship and everyone turned out for the party. The seven players suddenly apparated to the main stage and the crowd surged forward and cheered. At center was Oliver Wood, the superb keeper and team captain. He reveled in his victory and soon he and his best mates, the team's seeker and one of the beaters, were at the hottest club in Diagon Alley. Before he stepped into the club, he turned and threw up a fist at the crowd and cheered, "Cannons!" and the crowd erupted once again. 

"Oliver!" one voice sounded out louder than the others. A tall, gangly man waved and called out to Oliver again. 

"Oh, hey Neville," Oliver said in sudden recognition of his former school mate. He told his teammates to go ahead and stopped to talk. Neville was a war hero and it would be good publicity to be seen with him. He grabbed Neville's hand extended in handshake and pulled him in for a quick chest bump. Neville flushed and smiled even bigger. 

"Congratulations," Neville said close to Oliver's ear finding it hard to be heard over the crowd.

"Thanks mate," Oliver yelled back. "Do you mind a picture?" he asked and turned to smile at the camera. Neville smiled and was suddenly blinded by a flash bulb. He shook his head and leaned back in to Oliver.

"A bunch of people from Hogwarts are meeting up at the Leaky Cauldron tonight to celebrate. Meet us there?" he said hopefully.

"Yeah, sure, mate," Oliver replied, shaking his hand again and then turning back to enter the club. Neville shook his head again wondering if the other man had even heard what he said. But then again, Neville wondered, why would Oliver Wood, Quidditch hero, come and hang out at a dump like the Cauldron?

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When Oliver finally entered the club, the crowd inside cheered. He was in his element. The music pumped loud enough that he felt it in his chest. Someone shoved a beer in his hand and he took a drink and surveyed the VIP lounge. The whole team was there. They were a young crew, all recently drafted because the Cannons were trash for many years. Beautiful young witches were everywhere and he knew he could take his pick. But he wanted something special tonight. He smiled seductively as his eye finally caught sight of what he wanted, the Barrow twins.

Flora and Hestia Barrow were at every after game party all season and Oliver had never seen both girls leave with the same man. He intended to change that tonight because he loved two identical women pleasuring him and there weren't very many twins in the wizarding community. As he approached, however, he noticed that both girls were already engaging with his mates, the seeker and the beater. His smile faltered but then brightened again quickly as he formed an idea. 

"Hey Nate," he yelled over the music and he threw and arm across his beater's shoulders. 

"Hey Ollie!" Nate yelled back throwing his hand up onto Oliver's shoulder. They moved toward the bar where the music wasn't quite as loud.

"What's up with the twin?" Oliver asked, downing another beer. 

"She's hot for me, what can I say?" Nate said with a big grin, puffing up his chest. 

"Fuck, mate, I've been setting up to fuck those twins all season. Take off and I'll introduce you to all three of the Golden Trio," Oliver said knowing that he had a shot here. His loose association with the Golden Trio--Harry Potter, who sacrificed his life only to come back from the dead and defeat the greatest enemy the wizarding world has known, Lord Voldemort, and his closest friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley--could pay off here. Oliver smiled as Nate nodded his head and threw up his hands.

"I doubt you will actually follow through on that but I'll back off anyway," he laughed and the two men took clinked their shots of firewhiskey together and downed them. Nate was a good friend and Oliver was glad they were teammates.

"Now we just have to talk Mohammed into it," Oliver said as they walked back to the table where the twins and the seeker for the Cannons sat. 

"Good luck with that," Nate said pointing out that Mohammed alread had his hand on Flora or Hestia's leg. Oliver grinned thinking how these twins were so identical that he couldn't tell them apart. This was going to be a great night. 

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Several hours and a large amount of liquor later and Oliver found himself leaving the club with some blonde witch that insisted she went to Hogwarts at the same time he did. He struck out with the twins and that had soured his mood. They "weren't in to threesomes" and "wasn't that incest" and whatever excuses they spit in his face when he proposed that they retire to his place. But this blonde was beautiful and even though he couldn't remember her at all he was happy to use her for carnal pleasure.

They apparated to her place. He was glad of that because he didn't like anyone staying over at his place. As soon as they were in the door, he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her roughly, picking her up and placing her legs around his hips. She responded by kissing him back and wrapping her legs around him, linking her ankles. Pushing her back, the two smacked against the door. They stayed that way for several moments until Oliver abruptly dropped her, pulled up her dress and pulled down her panties. Really, he wondered, why on earth anyone wore underwear, as he dropped his trousers, showing that he wore none. 

He turned back to the blonde and picked her back up again, throwing her legs over his elbows. She looked mildly shocked when she saw his member. 

"I'll be gentle with ya," he murmered in her ear as he freed one hand and started to rub her clit. Her expression changed from shock to passion as he rubbed her slowly and then slapped her. She cried out and he stuck a finger in her mouth. 

"Suck it wet, hun," he drawled. When he was drunk he often spoke with a stronger Irish accent. His lovers ate it up, so he stopped trying so hard to lose his accent. She obeyed and started wetly sucking his finger. He pushed a second finger in and started scissoring her lips apart. She was starting to drool it was so wet. He pulled his fingers out and started pushing one into her slit. She was already wet but his penetration triggered her to release more of her juices. He slid both fingers in to prepare her for his member. It was big. He knew it. Half of his swagger came from it...no, all of his swagger came from knowing that he was well hung. More than well hung, he thought as he scissored his fingers in her pussy. He started thrusting as deep as she would take, gaining a bit with every thrust. He pulled out of her and she whined just a bit. She flinched as he suddenly pressed his cock into her folds quickly, but she could only manage about half. He threw her other leg over his elbow and pressed her into the door behind them. His cock slowly moved inside of her and her moans turned into cries. He stopped moving but didn't pull out.

"Slowly baby," he whispered. She stopped whimpering and he started pushing into her again slowly and then stopping again. As much as he wanted to pound into her, he knew that it took a lot of time to prepare a girl for his cock. He knew how to make it feel really good if she loosened up just right. But this one wasn't loosening up at all. And now with the tears. He sighed and put her down on the floor. He took her face in his hands and kissed her with as much passion as he could muster for a girl whose name he didn't know and had just rejected his cock. Then he lowered her to the floor in front of his cock and pressed it against her lips. He wiped a tear from her cheek and reached around the back of her head. Threading his fingers in her hair, he pulled her in to take as much of his cock as her throat would allow. Turns out that it was just about as much as her vagina, Oliver thought to himself. Although she looked vaguely sad, she realized that he fully intended to fuck her face if she didn't respond with a blow job or tell him to stop. Oliver always stopped when he was asked. Not that anyone asked lately. It was a surprise that this girl, who had seem so star struck and ready to go mere minutes before, had asked him to stop. This night was not turning out the way he intended. Maybe he would go out again after he bailed on this witch. 

"Let me give ya a gift," he drawled pulling her face back and looking her in the eye. She made quick work of him and he came in her mouth before pulling out and covering one of her eyes and down the right side of her face. He stroked it a couple of times  and wiped off the tip with her hair. She looked disappointed, but he felt disappointed, too. She stopped before they even got started when she started crying. Or maybe he wanted something different tonight. 

"Don't move," he said slowly, reaching for her phone out of her purse that had dropped on the floor beside them. He took a picture of her face covered in his ejaculate and then texted it to himself. 

"Now you've got my number, call me," he said, handing her the phone and leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips, trying to avoid the cold deposits on her cheek. "Good night, love," he whispered and turned to leave. He couldn't get out of there faster. But where to go now?

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Well wishers thrust drinks in his hand at every bar on Diagon, insisting on toasting the championship and taking pictures with him. He had to admit he got caught up in the excitement of the celebration and he thrived in the attention. But he left every bar in search of something else. Someone else. He wasn't sure why, but he felt drawn to the Hogwarts get together Neville told him about earlier in the evening. He knew he must be hammered to even consider going but he hadn't found anything else keeping him from the Leaky Cauldron in any of the bars or clubs he'd been to since ditching the blonde. It wasn't as if it wasn't being thrown in his face either. Women had pushed up on him from every angle but no one clicked. Suddenly very drunk and feeling nostalgic, he stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron. 

"Oliver Wood!" someone shouted from the back. Oliver found that his vision was at least somewhat blurred and couldn't tell who called his name but he moved in that direction. Straightaway Neville appeared at his side, putting an arm around his shoulders and calling out greetings. Oliver shook his head and tried to clear his mind from the alcohol haze. 

"Hey, Neville, mate," Oliver pulled him in and slapped him on the back in a hug. A bunch of voices called out greetings and congratulations and Oliver turned to survey the lot. Harry fucking Potter, he thought seeing the Boy Who Lived sitting in a booth with his wife Hermione Granger. They hooked up after he divorced Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Hermione, and Hermione divorced Ron, who sat next to Harry. Apparently the group stayed friends in spite of the relationship swapping. Next to Ginny was Blaise Zabini, her new husband. The lone Slytherin at a table of Gryffindors, Oliver thought to himself before correcting himself mentally. That was prejudice and wasn't tolerated anymore. But everyone still thinks it, thought Oliver noting how Blaise actually fit in well with the others at his table. Maybe everyone didn't still think it, he pondered as he turned to the next table. 

"Hey MVP," shouted out Fred Weasley from beside his twin brother George. Oliver knew them well enough to tell the difference beforehand, but George lost an ear during the Second War and the charm damage had yet to be healed so it was easy to tell them apart now. Oliver walked over to the table and shoved in next to Fred. Also at the table were Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, George and Fred's girlfriends respectively. They were all on the Quidditch team while Oliver was captain and he was especially happy to see them all together. Someone was asking what he wanted to drink, but he was already drunk enough that he wasn't really hearing everything clearly. He shook his head again and asked the voice to get him a water. 

Moments later he had a water, the voice belonging to Neville. Oliver reached out and brushed the mousy brown hair out of Neville's eyes, a surprisingly bright blue. "Do ya wanna get out of here?" he asked Neville, leaning in close and maintaining eye contact. Neville looked flushed and nervous. 

"Yeah, let's get out of here," he said quickly, already moving to say goodbye. Everyone protested as Neville announced his departure but he wrapped his scarf around his neck and buttoned his robe at the neck. He turned to Oliver and mouthed, "5 minutes," to him and pointed outside. Oliver nodded inconspicuously and turned back to his former teammates. 

Before he left, claiming he had to report to the team early the next morning, he stopped in and said goodnight to the Golden Trio and their assorted significant others. 

"I've seen you at Diagon Heights," Ginny squealed as he squeezed her hand. She looked quite lovely and quite drunk. "We should have you over for dinner. Remind me of that, Blaise," she said lightly slapping him across the chest. He flinched, she was stronger than she realized and always hit just a little bit too hard. "Uh, okay," Blaise said absentmindedly as he seemed distracted by the bulge in Oliver's pants. He pulled himself together and smiled sexily at Ginny, suddenly very aroused. Oliver took notice and tucked that little tidbit of knowledge away for a later time. He hadn't known until then that they lived in the same building. He spoke with Harry and then headed out the door.

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He saw Neville standing next to the small newspaper stand that was still open selling Championship editions of the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler as well as some questionable looking Championship shirts and banners. Oliver avoided the newsman's eye. He didn't want to sign any memorabilia right now, he wanted to fuck Neville Longbottom and he intended to do it soon. 

Oliver grabbed Neville by the hand and pulled him to the closest apparition point. After a quick discussion they apparated to Neville's flat. It was small but efficient, maybe 400 square feet in an old Victorian house in muggle London. He mentioned that the other flats were being renovated so no one else lived there yet. Oliver didn't care about any of it although it was nice to know that he wouldn't have to throw up any privacy charms inside the house. An alarm on the doors and windows seemed prudent and didn't take hardly any energy. And Oliver wanted to have a lot of energy for what was to come. He grabbed Neville and pulled him close, pressing his lips to Neville's. 

Oliver broke the heated kiss long enough to turn and push Neville onto the couch beside them. Oliver straddled him and leaned in to kiss him roughly, demanding entry with his tongue. Their tongues met and Oliver twirled his in a circle around Neville's. Oliver sucked suggestively on the tip of Neville's tongue and then stopped and looked longingly at the other man. 

"I want ya bad Neville," he said, his voice raspy and low. "I'm going to start taking off your clothes now," he said kissing down Neville's neck and reaching for the top button of his Oxford. Neville moaned lightly as Oliver sucked against his neck hard enough to leave a small mark. Neville took over unbuttoning his shirt and Oliver took his own shirt off exposing broad shoulders and a muscled chest. He unbucked his trousers and they fell to the floor. His member was half hard. It was always half-hard, Oliver thought grabbing it and pushing it up flat against his stomach so he could lay on top of Neville. 

Before he started kissing Neville again, Oliver looked him up and down slowly, a lusty grin on his face. Neville flushed every time he made that look and it excited Oliver. Neville's eyes widened as he took in Oliver's member. Oliver went to lower himself on top of Neville, but Neville put his hand out against Oliver's chest and blurted out, "Do you remember fucking me before, or what?"

Oliver thought to himself, but couldn't quite recall ever fucking Neville Longbottom before and that seemed like something that he would remember. But here he was, with Neville laying there naked and their bodies partially pressed together and he chose now to ask. So close to closing the deal. Oliver leaned in and whispered, "Of course I remember, love," and Oliver kissed him gently on the cheek. When Neville didn't protest, he continued to lay soft kisses all over Neville's face. Neville smiled but still seemed apprehensive. Oliver thought deep and knew that he had about three different lines he used when trying to get someone in the sack and if he picked the one he'd used on Neville previously, they could get to shagging.

"Come on now," he said smiling. "Let me give ya a gift," Oliver decided it was that same line he already used earlier that night. It was cheesy but often worked when he smiled and gave the person puppy dog eyes. "Ya know I do it better than anyone else," he added when Neville didn't immediately respond. At the second phrase, Neville smiled brightly and looked excited. 

"You do remember!" he cried out happily. He threw his arms around the other man's neck and pulled down until their lips met. Their tongues met once again, Oliver swirling and sucking on Neville's tongue. He broke the kiss and started kissing down Neville's chest. He stopped at his nipples, sucking on both on his way down Neville's stomach. Oliver took Neville's cock in his mouth and started to lick around the tip. Alternating with sloppy sucking motions, Oliver pressed down and took all of Neville's length in his mouth, holding it deep in his throat for several seconds. He started bobbing his head lightly around the hard member, sucking in with his cheeks. 

"That's amazing," Neville moaned breathlessly as the up and down motions increased. Oliver slowed to a stop and then climbed up to where their faces met again. He pulled Neville's leg up to crook in his elbow and then took his own cock in his hand. He used his precum to lightly lubricate his cock. Then he spit a few times into his hand to get it wetter and he pressed the head against Neville's puckered hole. He pressed in slowly, pushing past the ring at the opening and stopping when about an inch of his cock fit inside the other man. 

"I'ma gonna make you feel so good Neville," Oliver said keeping Neville's eye as he started rocking in and out very slowly. After a few light thrusts, he stuck his fingers in Neville's mouth. 

"Suck 'em," he commanded with a half lidded eyes. Neville complied, and soon the four fingers Oliver stuffed in his mouth were sloppy wet. Oliver pressed the fingers further in Neville's mouth, moving in and out and choking the man. Before Neville started coughing, Oliver moved his hand to Neville's opening and thrust one finger inside. He pushed it in and out, gaining speed with each thrust. Soon two fingers thrust, then three. Oliver moved his fingers in every direction trying to stretch Neville out before he impaled the man with his enormous cock. He managed to get the fourth finger in, but there wasn't much movement. 

"Do you have any lube?" Oliver asked, his voice low.

"Yes, let's go to the bedroom," Neville said pressing gently against Oliver's chest. The two men padded nude to the bed separated by bookshelves from the rest of the room. Neville stopped in the bathroom momentarily but then returned bringing a small bottle of clear liquid with him. Oliver took the bottle and squirted a generous amount just inside Neville's hole and more into his hand. He stroked his dick a few times until it was slick with the lube. Then he spread the rest over his fingers and then pressed two fingers back inside of Neville. When all four fingers eased in and out of Neville's ass, Oliver finally pulled his cock up to the hole and attempted to regain entry. It was much looser this time and he was able to push more than half in instantly. With a couple of more thrusts, Neville had taken Oliver's entire cock. Oliver stopped, his balls slapping against Neville gently.

"Fuck," Oliver grunted and started slowly pressing in and out. He increased his speed and both men began sweating, their breathing rapidly increasing. Oliver stopped and flipped Neville over. Neville pulled his knees up to his chest and braced for Oliver reentering his sore hole. It happened fast and Oliver's entire cock penetrated his ass down to the balls. Oliver cried out but Oliver didn't stop. He thrust in and out until Neville showed signs that he was about to achieve orgasm. Oliver reached down and started stroking Neville's cock. Neville moaned and crying out screams of ecstacy and Oliver came with one final hard thrust. He collapsed on top of Neville, his arms having finally given out. Both men breathed hard as they recovered from their orgasms. Moments later Oliver rose on one arm and pulled out of Neville's ass, leaving a trail of cum behind. Oliver strode over to the dresser where Neville's phone sat. He grabbed the phone and took a picture of Neville, with his ass in the air leaking cum and his face pressed out to the side having not moved since Oliver got up. 

"You have my number now, call me," he said throwing the phone on the bed, the picture still illuminated on the screen. Neville started getting up and glanced at the picture and he blushed and flipped the phone over. 

"Thanks, Oliver," he said sincerely meeting Oliver's eye. Oliver leaned down and kissed him goodbye.

"Anytime, Neville," Oliver replied putting on his trousers. 

"You can stay," Neville offered hopefully. 

"Mate, I had a really good time but I have to meet up with the team at 7 am. I've gotta get home," Oliver said, prepping his early dismissal. 

"Come on," Neville said, pulling him back into bed. "Stay here until 6, we can have breakfast. I'm a really good cook. Then you can apparate to your place and then to the team facilities," he said in his most persuasive tone, trying to keep his lover in his bed for the rest of the night. Oliver thought it over and decided that staying actually outweighed leaving and pulled Neville up into spooning position.

"Alright, alright," Oliver pretended to reluctantly agree. He liked this position because as soon as he got hard again he could just slide right back in and go for another round. Neville didn't seem like he would complain too much about it either. 



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