Oliver & Adrian
At first, Oliver had frowned at the sight of fucking Pucey, but then he remembered he was a girl, and Pucey didn't necessarily recognize him. Score. And he mostly managed to avoid him, too, but just as Oliver was raising his beer to his lips, who walked over? Pucey.
Balls.
And to make matters worse? The son of a bitch was checking him out! For fuck's sake. It was one thing to get eyes, but another thing to get eyes by Pucey. And what the fuck did he mean, 'A for effort'? Oliver thought he made a very convincing, and hot, he might add, girl.
But then the thought dawned on him—Pucey was hitting on him. Hitting on him. Oh, hells fucking yes. This was too bloody good to be true. Fuck yes he was planning on using this to his advantage.
"Of course I've gotta good set," he said, rolling his eyes at Adrian—he tried to remember all the little things birds did that got to him. Eye rolling he liked when they were teasing, so Oliver added a smirk. "Though does it really take that much to impress you?" he said with a laugh, trying not to feel off at the way if came out. His voice was still accented, but Merlin's balls, it was girly.
Still, if Oliver died right now, at least he'd go off drunk, with fucking fantastic tits, and bloody fucking laughing.