An Unexpected Pleasure

Disclaimer: See the pretty blonde British woman. Characters, world, all hers. Smut? All mine. Plot. That's mine too.

A/N: Unfortunately, this was my first fanfic ever, and I didn't have a beta. Any mistakes, grammer, spelling or otherwise are my own. Please forgive me.


Harry sat as unobtrusively as possible at the bar in one of London’s wizarding neighborhood hangout. Finally, seven years after the defeat of the Dark Lord, Harry had what he had always wanted, the ability to go out and not be mobbed. To be able to just be Harry Potter, not the Boy Who Lived Again. He found he rather liked it. Of course, at 24, he really couldn’t be called a boy anymore. He grinned into his drink; Jack and coke. That was one of the many things he liked about this place, it served Muggle drinks as well as wizarding ones. Finally beginning to relax after the hellacious day he’d had, he allowed his eyes to scan the crowd. He was just beginning to lose interest when he noticed him, a slim figure from his past, one that had played a part in his many fantasies once he’d realized he was gay. The man who he had pictured writhing on the Quidditch pitch, struggling to hold off his orgasm til Harry had forced it out of him. But it couldn’t be. The longer he stared, the more certain he was. Suddenly, as though feeling Harry’s eyes on him, the man looked up and a slow smile of delight filled his face. Harry blushed and looked down. When he looked up again, the man was out of his seat and on his way over to Harry. He watched, mesmerized as the man came toward him.

“Harry Potter,” came the pleased voice. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry smiled, knowing as he did yet another blush crawled up his neck and into his cheeks. “Hullo Oliver. Thought you were in Switzerland with the Wasps for the training season.”

“Nah left them this year. Decided to do something besides Quidditch. Mind if I sit down?”

“No, of course not. So what are you doing now then?”

Oliver grinned. “Taking a much needed break. What about you?”

“I’m on vacation so I guess I’m taking a break too,” Harry grinned.

He couldn’t believe he was calmly sitting here talking to the man he had fantasized about for so many years. The same man whose image danced in front of his eyes as he tossed himself off. The same one whose mouth he imagined on his…no, best not to think of that just now. He looked up from his mostly finished drink to find his companion looking at him appraisingly.

“You look good Harry,” came the surprising comment, the eyes of the man next to him lingering on Harry’s lips before moving back to his eyes.

Harry felt yet another blush and damned his complexion to hell. “Thanks. You’re looking pretty good yourself,” he replied, taking a gulp of his drink, watching Wood’s eyes follow the working of his throat as he swallowed.

“Would you like another?”

Harry smiled. If he didn’t know better he would swear the man was flirting with him. “You buying me a drink Wood?”

“If you want one.”

Harry couldn’t believe it! Oliver Wood wanted to buy him a drink! “Sure,” he said smiling.

Oliver smiled as well before looking away and waving the bartender over. “Give him another of whatever he’s drinking and get me a Jack and coke would you?”

Harry started and looked over at the man sitting next to him.

Oliver smiled at Harry’s look of surprise as the bartender walked away to make the drinks. “What? Surprised I’m drinking a Muggle drink?” he asked.

“No,” came the surprisingly calm response. Harry was pleased with himself. “Surprised you’re drinking the same thing as I am.”

“Ah. A man who shares my tastes.”

“You’d be surprised,” Harry responded. A raised eyebrow met the comment and Harry simply smiled, refusing to elaborate. If things kept going in the direction they appeared to be headed in, Wood would find out for himself what he meant later.

Their drinks arrived and the two men continued to catch up on each other’s lives, sharing anecdotes and stories from when they had been in school together, one drink leading to another until they were the only people left at the bar. Realising that the place had gotten much quieter, Harry looked around and was surprised to note that there were chairs on the table and that aside from the bartender, he and Oliver were the only two people there.

“It was good to see you Oliver,” Harry said, smiling the smile of the pleasantly drunk.

“You trying to get rid of me Potter?”

There was a note of…something…in the question. Harry thought a bit before he answered. “Well, it is getting late and we are the last ones here. I suspect they’ll be kicking us out soon enough.”

“You didn’t answer my question Harry,” Oliver purred in a voice that had parts of Harry twitching in response.

“I’m not trying to ditch you Oliver. Just pointing out that we should leave.”

Oliver looked away for a long moment before responding, searching the frank green eyes in front of him. Finally, he took a breath and said “I’ve a flat not far from here if you want to have another drink or two. I can’t see you apparating home in that condition anyway, so you can crash if want to.”

Searching Oliver’s eyes for a clue as to what he was thinking, Harry valiantly fought to ignore the hardening of his crotch in response to the images flitting through his mind at the mention of Oliver’s flat. Deciding that he would hate himself for not seeing where this led, Harry nodded his head and allowed himself to admire the body of the man next to him as he summoned the bartender and paid the tab. Grabbing his coat and following the man to the door, he wondered just what he was getting himself into as they walked out of the bar and headed towards Oliver’s apartment. They walked the short distance to Wood’s home in companionable silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Oliver opened the door and preceded Harry inside, dropping his coat on a chair close by the door.

“I’ve got Butterbeer, Jack, Vodka, Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey and some of Hagrid’s special brew. What would you like?” he asked as Harry closed the door behind them and settled on the sofa.

"Whatever you’re having,” Harry replied, sinking down into the warmth of the comfortable sofa.

Oliver returned with two glasses filled with an amber liquid that could only be Ogden’s and settled unto the sofa beside Harry. Taking an appreciative sip, Harry licked the remaining taste off his lips, eyes closed, not noticing the eyes that followed the movement of his tongue across his bottom lip. As those same lips exhaled a sigh of pure pleasure, Oliver felt heat curling in his stomach, blood rushing to his cock, as he thought of what that sound would be like coming from Harry in the throes of passion. Shifting slightly, he adjusted his position and looked straight into Harry’s eyes as they opened.

“You seeing anyone Harry?”

With a small shake of his head, Harry replied “No. He decided he wanted to be with someone else about a year ago. Haven’t dated anyone since,” he answered, looking up at the slightly indrawn breath and the look of surprise on Oliver’s face.

“He?” came the slightly choked question.

Harry grinned. “Surprised you did I?”

“Well, it’s just that I didn’t know…”

“Yes well, it was something I discovered about myself after you left school. How about you, you seeing anyone?”

“No. We broke up after I found him pounding into one of my teammates last June.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

The two men looked at each other, tension growing the longer the silence lasted as each pondered their attraction to the other, wondering whether they should do anything about it or not.

“Harry,” Oliver started.

“Oliver,” Harry began at the same time.

Both men laughed. “You first Harry.”

Now that he had the floor, Harry couldn’t decide what to say. He looked at Oliver, at the lithe body so close to his, at the wide shoulders emphasized by the black turtleneck Oliver wore, at the hard chest and traveled lower, coming to rest at the budge beginning to show at the crotch of Oliver’s trousers.

Finally, deciding that a person only lived once, he said, “I had a bit of a crush on you, you know.” Oliver’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ of surprise. “You needn’t look so surprised. You’re an attractive man, a fact I noticed watching you play for the Cannons the same year I figured out I was gay. I always wondered,…” he trailed off into silence.

“Wondered what Harry?”

“I always wondered what your mouth would taste like,” came the quiet answer. It was a moment before Harry looked up and met Oliver’s eyes. Eyes filled with surprise and desire and something else Harry couldn’t name. ‘Maybe this might happen after all,’ he thought.

“Would you like to find out?” Oliver asked, rather shakily.

“Would you let me?”

Oliver carefully set his drink on the table in front of him before turning and taking Harry’s drink and setting it aside. Turning back to the man next to him, Oliver swept his gaze over Harry, taking in Harry’s obvious arousal before fixing back on the ripe lips in front of him. Moving closer to Harry, he leaned forward and whispered close to Harry’s lips “I’ve always wanted to taste yours” before closing the small distance and pressing his mouth to Harry’s. The kiss started out gentle, exploratory until Oliver felt Harry’s hands twining into his hair, pulling him more firmly against Harry as Harry opened his lips to the kiss. Moaning, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside Harry’s welcoming mouth, tasting the firewhiskey on his tongue, plundering the cavity with obvious relish. His hands slid down Harry’s arms, feeling the muscles bunched under the light cotton shirt, feeling the moan in the back of the Harry’s throat as he did so.

Surrendering to the feel of Oliver’s mouth, Harry sucked Oliver’s tongue softly then harder as he heard the whimper that met his response. ‘Oh yes, this is good.’ He broke the kiss to indulge himself in what he had dreamt of for so long, lips trailing kisses from Oliver’s mouth, up to his ear, tongue flicking inside before teeth nipped gently at the lobe his tongue teased. Oliver wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him down as he lay back on the couch, groaning as he felt the other man’s erection pressing into his stomach, unable to resist the urge to grind his own erection into Harry’s thigh as Harry slowly licked his way to his throat, fingers pushing at the material before latching on to the Adams apple and sucking the luscious skin he found there. Sliding his hands down the chest he had fantasized about Harry tugged at the shirt keeping him from more of Oliver’s skin, hands sliding underneath to the small of his back before traveling upwards and forwards to flick across already hardened nipples. The hiss that greeted him at the gentle pinch he gave spurred Harry into tugging the fabric up and laving the nipple in question, biting lightly as Oliver squirmed under him. Harry’s inner voice crowed in delight. Oliver wanted this, wanted him.

“Damn Harry,” Oliver whispered, “Where did you…ugh…learn…gasp…how to do that?”

Smiling against the smooth flesh Harry simply continued to bite and lick his way across Oliver’s chest following the gentle trail of hair to where it disappeared inside the waist of the trousers. Gasping, Oliver’s hips bucked against Harry as he allowed his tongue to slip beneath the band of the trouser, nimble fingers undoing the snap and zip as his mouth kept up it’s teasing work on the skin it found. Fingers gently stroked the hot flesh beneath the boxers before sliding inside and wrapping around the hard length they found there, sending spikes of pure pleasure through Oliver’s body. If Oliver was willing to give him this, he would take it, and make it a night neither would ever forget.

‘God Harry,” Oliver moaned, head thrown back in pure bliss. “Oh god yes.”

Harry looked up at Oliver, eyes glazed with lust and triumph at being able to so unhinge the older wizard. “Like that do you,” he taunted, hand never stopping its motion as his fist curler even tighter around the pulsing cock.

“Merlin!”

“Would you like me to suck you Oliver?” asked Harry in a low husky voice. “Taste the pre-com at the tip of your cock? Wrap my tongue around the head and then suck the entire thing into my mouth?”

The words dripping from Harry’s mouth like honey went straight to Oliver’s cock, making him even harder. Already labored breathing became even more so, coming in short, harsh gasps. A hiss of unadulterated lust was his only response, and that was enough for Harry. Harry felt his own arousal, fighting for release from the confining clothing, and it was all he could do to keep from grinding his cock into the couch. Putting words into action, he slowly dragged his tongue up the underside of Oliver’s cock, following the twisting vein to the head before stabbing his tongue into the slit and licking away all the liquid he found there.

“Merlin, you taste good Oliver. Sooooo good.” A husky groan was all he was capable of, rapidly losing himself both in the pleasure he was giving the other man and the pleasure he took in giving it.

“Harry please…suck me, please!” Oliver begged, almost sobbing with need.

“I want to fuck you Oliver,” Harry murmured around Oliver’s thick purple cockhead. “I want to fuck you now. I can’t wait.”

“Fuck yes!” came the response.

Harry gave one last longing lick to the beautiful prick he had in his hands before reluctantly moving away. The only thing keeping him sane was the knowledge that he was about to have the fulfillment of every fantasy he’d ever had about this man. He’d have him squirming beneath him if was the last thing he ever did.

“Take of your clothes,” he growled, already stripping off the shirt he wore, buttons popping in his haste, eyes darkening even more as he watched Oliver’s body unveil before his eyes. Harry could almost feel himself sliding into that gorgeous tight arse of Oliver's already, his cock leaking at the thought. He groaned as Oliver shoved the trousers and boxers off his hips, freeing his lovely balls to Harry’s sight. Once he had stepped out of the trousers pooled at his feet, Harry pounced. There was a luxuriously thick rug on the floor in front of the table, and it was there Harry half dragged, half carried Oliver. Kissing him hard, he pulled him down unto the rug with him.

“Lube?” was all Harry could manage to get out.

“Accio lubricant,” Oliver panted and the little jar came flying from the open bedroom door into his outstretched hand.

Harry took it, opened it and coated his fingers with it. His other hand pushed Oliver unto his back as his mouth went to the skin of Oliver’s hip. Stroking in slow circles around Oliver’s opening, Harry slowly slid a slick finger inside Oliver’s body. Oliver hissed in pleasure, pressing down on the invading digit.

“Merlin, I want to be inside you so badly,” Harry whispered. “I have to have you.”

Oliver groaned. “Please…”

Getting impatient, Harry slipped another finger inside Oliver’s warm body, brushing over his prostate and causing him to jerk and cry out in pleasure. Stroking over the spot again and again, he added another finger, stretching the muscle gently while driving Oliver closer, making himself crazy with need in the process. This was even better than his fantasies and he couldn’t wait to see what Oliver felt like clamped around him.

Groaning his need, Oliver begged incoherently for more. “Harry…please…need…I need…oh please.”

Hearing that ragged plea, Harry’s tenuous control broke and he slowly pulled his fingers out, Oliver whimpering at the loss until Harry settled himself firmly between Oliver’s legs, the hot tip of his cock teasing the entrance to Oliver’s body. Slowly, he pushed against Oliver, determined not to hurt him, but also determined to make this last as long as possible.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned as he slid slowly home and held still, giving Oliver a chance to adjust. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Please…more. Move Harry,” begged Oliver brokenly, squeezing himself on the hard length sheathed inside him.

Chest heaving with the effort to stay still and stave off his own orgasm, Harry thought about everything he could think of to keep from coming from the heat surrounding him and the incoherent little sounds coming from Oliver’s throat. If he had thought having his fingers inside him had been incredible, having his cock shoved up Oliver’s arse was unspeakably fulfilling. Unable to bear the tension of not moving any longer, he slowly pulled out and just as slowly pushed himself back in, building the pleasure to an intolerable level as he repeated his movements.

Never had Oliver felt the kind of pleasurable pain he felt now as Harry drew out the experience as much as he could. It would have been impossible to describe had his life depended on it, and he could feel himself approaching the edge. Desperate and wanting, he reached down to stroke himself to the climax he felt so near.

Harry’s eyes darkened further and narrowed as he hissed out the pleasure watching Oliver stroke himself brought him.

“Yessss,” his own strokes speeding up as he watched Oliver, making a point of angling his thrusts to hit the sweet spot inside the warm body he was plunging into. “So fucking hot…so good…so very tight. I could fuck you forever. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you Oliver?’” he continued, his voice ragged, his breath coming in short spurts. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since my fourth year. I imagined bending you over a desk in an empty classroom and fucking you into the floor,” the last words emphasized by particularly brutal thrusts. His thrusts sped up and lost any semblance of rhythm, driven now by the impossible need to come and come quickly.

“Wanted to fuck you,” he continued “just like this!”

Knocking Oliver’s hand away, he closed his fist around Oliver’s cock, watching the balls tighten, listening to him hiss ‘Yes Harry yes. Harder, faster, harder.’ He could feel the muscles surrounding him clamp down on his cock just as he felt the rush of fluid across his fingers as Oliver came screaming his name. That was enough to bring on his own orgasm as he pounded once, twice more into Oliver before his own orgasm erupted, blinding in its pleasure. He collapsed, hand still between their bodies, both of them breathing hard as they tried to recover.

“Damn that was good,’ Oliver finally managed to breathe out. “Why haven’t we done this before?”

Harry chuckled weakly, still spent. “Because you haven’t been around. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it again. I am on vacation remember?”

“What do you do anyway Harry?”

“I’m an Unspeakable…if I tell you, I’d have to kill you,” he grinned, adding the last bit in a voice full of mischief.

Laughing, Oliver responded, “If this is how you’d go about it, I’d gladly welcome death.”

Pushing himself off the man beneath him, Harry pulled slowly out of his body and stood up, holding a hand out to Oliver. “Offer still open for me to stay the night?”

“Of course,’ came the amused response. “As long as I get to do to you what you just did to me.”

Walking towards the bedroom and pulling Oliver with him Harry said, “Believe me…the pleasure will be all mine.”

Finis