Quidditch Pitch #2

Caradoc walks out to the pitch, the latest Cleansweep in hand.

Oliver wandered out to the Quidditch Pitch. he couldn't believe he didn't go for his first day. Madness!

Caradoc was mounting his broom when he saw-- hot damn. Okay, Inner Eowyn's massive crush on Oliver Wood is so going to emerge, as a warning. I fucking love him. I want him in my pants. Oliver Wood, Sean Biggerstaff, I'm cool with either. "Hey there," he called out to the newcomer, flashing his sexiest smile-- well, not really, or Ol' would be dead. "Don't think I've seen you 'round before. I'm Caradoc, call me Rad," he said, introducing himself while he let his eyes roam.

"Oliver Wood." Oliver noticed the guy's eyes trailing over him, and played up his Scottish brogue. "What's a bloke like you doin' oop 'ere? Ye sound American." He winked at Rad.

Eowyn drags Oliver to her bed, and that is the end.
I wish.

Caradoc grins as he hears the boy's accent, because, well, half the reason he's here is to sex up guys with hot accents, really. "I've just transferred to Hogwarts from New Jersey," he replied, his grin widening a the wink. "Figured I'd come out to the pitch and practice a bit, it's been a while since I've flown, and I was thinking of trying out for the Hufflepuff team," he said, leaning on his broomstick. "You fly often?" he asked, and Eowyn giggles because Rad clearly is so sexy, he can use bad pick up lines like that and get away with it.

"Yeah, been Keepa for Gryffindor since I was a fifth yea'. I fly every day back home." Innocent little me isn't quite sure what rad is implying, so I am having Oliver play oblivious. DON'T JUDGE ME! "I heard Quodpot was moor played in the colonies. Surprised you play. What position?"

"They can keep their quodpot, though I'm decent as that as well-- I've got the build for it, see?" he said, gesturing at his hunky bod. "I play chaser, and I'm not half bad at it either, though I'm not exactly serious about the sport, like you seem to be. Though, if you're a keeper, we could practice together," he said with a smile that had more to do with the idea of putting quaffles through hoops with Oliver than practicing quidditch.

You. Have. Awakened. The. Beast. HE IS SO LOUD N MY HEAD. MAKE IT STOP.

"I take it very seriously... seems like a problem sometimes. Hooeve', if I want to be a professional, I deal with it. I'm hopin' to get signed when I graduate, see. And I'd love to play with you." He grins in a slightly suggestive way at Rad. Oliver didn't mind flirting with suck a handsome man. He was bisexual after all, and out to his parents.

Ohmygod. Your typo. "Suck a handsome man" instead of "Such" oh my god excuse me while I die laughing. Rad liked that typo very much.

"Well I'm glad to hear that-- I so dearly love to play, if not seriously. I just like to have fun," he grinned back, liking Oliver more and more by the minute. "So what do you say, Oliver? How about a little game?" he asked, tossing a quaffle at him without warning, to gauge his reaction time, and to catch him off guard for long enough to spend an extra moment checking out that fine ass.

[okay i'll post once more than pause, i'm off to bed soon]

SEE, THE OLLIE IN MY HEAD IS MAKING FREUDIAN SLIPS. THIS CAN'T BE GOOD.

Oliver caught it easily. "Got to be harder than that." He winked. He hopped on his broomstick and sped up into the sky. "Get up and join me. It'll be hard to get the Quaffle into the hoop." He let a lazy smile play across his face.

"Join you? Gladly," he said under his breath as he grinned, kicking off into the air and circling the pitch for fun, before speeding towards the goal posts, halting in front of Oliver. "I somehow don't see it being too hard for me to score, Wood," he teased, the sun boring down upon the two of them, causing a bead of sweat to appear on Rad's neck and drip down his torso.

OKAY GOODNGIHT

GOOD NIGHT. I LOVE YOU!

"Ye don't? I am not easy to get by. Takes a talent man or woman." His eyes followed the bead of sweat down Caradoc's body. Mmmmm.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing I've got plenty of talent, then," he replied suavely, spiking the quaffle to Wood's right, but not out of reach in the least-- it was an easy block.

Caradoc Dearborn wrote:"Well, I suppose it's a good thing I've got plenty of talent, then," he replied suavely, spiking the quaffle to Wood's right, but not out of reach in the least-- it was an easy block.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Please, don't take it easy on me. That was a purposely easy shot." He batted it out of the way, catching it and lobbing it to Rad.

Caradoc caught it and grinned. "Who said I planned on taking it easy the whole time? You'll quickly learn I like a challenge, and I sure as hell like to play rough," he said spiking the ball right between Oliver's legs at the goal post behind him.

Oliver smirked at Rad. "Play rough and people get rough back." He gripped his broom tightly, rolling upside to dangle for a split second before grabbing the ball. His fingers stung as the ball hit them, and he was a little startled by the force behind the throw. Rad was good. Very good.

[I THOUGHT THIS VANISHED! AND THEN I FOUND IT!]

"Oh, I'm sure I can handle anything you've got to throw at me, babe," he said with a wide grin, thoroughly enjoying this conversation, not to mention the ample opportunity to check out more than Oliver's quidditch skills at the moment, as he waited for Ol to throw the ball back.

Oliver smiled. "Now, it hardly seems fair that you get to test me, and I am expected to just throw the ball back to you." With a wicked grin, he tossed the Quaffle from one hand to another. "Don't you think I should test you?"

"What, you wanna switch it up? I'll tell you now, I'm no keeper, but another chaser? I think I can deal with a little game. How about some one on one, muggle basketball style?" he suggested, a wicked glint in his eye as he thought about all the potential fouls that might occur.

"Sure, one on one, that's my favourite." Oliver winked at Rad. "Bring it on, colonist."

"Colonist?! I'm almost offended," he joked, grinning wildly as he lunged forward without wasting time, snatching the ball right from Oliver's grip and speeding off to the other end of the pitch, doing a spin on his broom just for fun.

Oliver zoomed after Caradoc, lagging behind. He knew he couldn't catch up. So, instead, he reached out and grabbed his ass. And then squeezed.

[Sorry, talking on the phone with Ducky. Drop the Quaffle now? -puppy eyes-]

HHAHAHAHAAHAHAH OMG, YES HE WOULD DROP THE QUAFFLE

Caradoc yelped and let the quaffle slip from his grip as he whirled around in an albeit rather pleasant shock. "Hey now, I thought we were playing rough, not dirty," he said with an enormous grin, spinning his broom back around to circle Oliver, who'd caught the quaffle with a smirk on his face. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Mr. Wood," he said, snorting at Ol's last name as the humor of it kicks in, given the situation.

Oliver gave Rad a smug smile. "Rough, dirty, same thing. Anything to get me what I what." He laughed, and winked. "Like my last name?"

Caradoc laughed and grinned, deciding this guy was as close to his type as one can possibly get. "Get you what you want? Oh, I think you'll have to try a little harder than that, boy," he said mockingly, diving forward towards the quaffle, ready to play a real game, and thinking about just how far he thinks Oliver will go to win this. Perhaps he's reaching for the quaffle-- perhaps he's reaching for other things, though, as Rad lunged forward.