Who: Oliver Wood & Alicia Spinnet Where: his flat, Glasgow When: October 14, 2001 What: What their evenings usually consist of. Rating: PG-13 Status: Private/Complete
Aside from the game on Wednesday, life for Oliver had been otherwise uneventful - if one considered the fact that he had forcibly restrained himself from hexing his apartment to pieces everyday after practice uneventful. It wasn't that the team was fucking around, it was just that the team wasn't making an effort to not fuck around that bothered him. The new reserves weren't half as dedicated as they should be and even a troll could have seen the snitch in the last game. Still, Oliver knew he couldn't let his frustration get to him - he'd just have to train with them harder and make sure he was at the top of his game. He'd cut that casual smoking completely since the start of the season, but he might need to drink less beer, too - and he had picked up an extra mile in the afternoons, which had worked out well enough because Alicia wasn't even home until later since she'd been working at her gym and he'd decided he didn't like being alone in his flat.
He had also been taking Francie up to his Gram's in the mornings. She liked playing at the farm and he was glad that Gram had the company (Oliver didn't consider the chickens or sheep as very amiable company, though Biscuit was friendly enough.) Going up to Gram's gave him more time to run and practice his maneuvering on his broom and he had a little course cut out deep in the woods by the millpond. He hoped the extra training, by himself and with the team, would be enough to make up for their loss last week. They played the Prides on Saturday, and if Meg wasn't enough, they'd have Harry if their Seeker got injured before the game, and that was enough to have Oliver antsy. He really wished Phillbert had let him shuffle the roster again and sign Harry. The thought of losing another game, and to his friends, was enough to have him frustrated as hell.
At least he had something to take his mind of things. Alicia was big on not stressing and not getting bent and he liked the fact that she was living with him for that reason, among others. Evenings with her were very casual and relaxed - and it was a relief to come home to the no strings-frills arrangement they'd had for the last few weeks. Tonight was much the same as most nights with them - dinner, a glass of wine if it had been a rough day. Otherwise they had just spent the time winding down from the day, or fucking, but either way it was a huge relief of stress and he was grateful for it - tonight included. Alicia hadn't been home when he had gotten in. He was a bit early, though. Francie had gotten squeamish when they'd apparated over that morning, so he figured it best to maybe not cart her back and forth as often and had left her there. He'd showered and was in the process of starting some pasta, which seemed the most stress free meal he could make short of fixing a sandwich and leaving Alicia to her own means, but he wasn't that tired and so he set the water to boil and pulled down the ingredients for Gram's marinara recipe.
Alicia yawned widely as she entered the flat, closing the door behind her after having Apparated just outside. The actual gym was set up all nice and stuff- her problem now was getting all of the paperwork in order. She'd gotten a business license from the Ministry of Magic, now she just had to worry about getting one from the Muggle government as well.
She sniffed the air, grinning as her nose led her to the kitchen. "You're cooking! Oh, thank you. I'm starving, Ol. How was your day?" she asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. Ah. Oh, that was good. She hadn't had one in almost an entire week- she deserved it.
He glanced over his shoulder, smiling at her before turning back to drop in the noodles. The marinara was simmering along nicely and he set the lid over it before turning back to her. He made an effort not to jump her the moment she walked in the door, but her gym clothes left little to the imagination, and they certainly weren't covering much today. He smirked at the thought, his eyebrow crooking naturally before he forced himself to turn to the refrigerator.
"I'm cutting beer, so you can have what's mine in the fridge," he said, head stuck in the doorway. Where the hell was the butter? Spying it, he stood, grabbing it and the wine before turning back to cooking. He added a healthy dollop of wine to the sauce, a bit of sugar and cinnamon as well, before pouring himself a glass and leaning back against the counter.
"Can't you wear a potato sack around me?" he asked with a lazy half-smile, though his eyes shone alert beneath his lashes. He took a sip of his wine, his lips curling into a broader smile as he did.
"Mmm, smells fabulous," Alicia said, sniffing appreciatively as she leaned over the pot, quickly dipping her finger in and licking the sauce off the tip. "Oh, God, that's terrific. Yay. And I'm sort of cutting beer. This is my first in like a week." She smacked his arse, hopping up onto the counter just a bit away from him.
"Nope. Potato sacks make me itch," she said easily, grinning at him as she took another long pull from her beer. His smile was lazy and made her warm a bit, especially with the way that he was looking at her. Possibly his eyes were the sexiest part of him.
He rolled said eyes and turned to her, kissing her in a familiar manner before turning back to the food. He liked the comfort she afforded him, liked being able to be himself and relax around her without worrying over her judging him or getting too clingy. He was glad she'd been there on Wednesday and through the rest of the week and weekend and it made him feel better knowing that short of Percy, she knew the most about him. He nudged one of her legs with his hip before putting the bread in the oven to toast.
"Set the table, would you?" he asked, nodding to the small breakfast nook off the kitchen. "You want wine with dinner, or that beer enough?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as he stirred the sauce.
This was so very comfortable, here with them. It was nice, and easy, and just proved to her that this thing with Oliver, whatever it was, was a good idea. Easy was definitely good. Oliver knew her, and didn't push her to talk about things she didn't want to talk about; when she was with him she could just be.
Sliding down, she gathered the things to set the table and moved over to set everything up, all nice and neat. "Beer's fine, I don't particularly want wine tonight. What are you having?" she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder.
Oliver glanced back at her, his wine glass to his lips once more. He raised his eyebrows and tapped the glass with his finger to indicate what he was having with dinner. He smiled as he set the glass down, moving to refill it before pulling her out another beer. He opened it and set it on the table next to her half empty one.
"Cheese?" he queried, still moving about the kitchen as he finished up. He set the noodles to drain in the sink. He set his glass on the table across from her before finishing up, heaping her plate with noodles (they were wheat and gluten free, and the fiber would be good for them) and marinara (which was chock full of tomatoes, which would be good with them both working out so often.) He grabbed the bread and a bowl of salad left over from the night before and set it all on the table.
"What did you eat today?" he asked, handing her a piece of bread. He probably should have made something more substantial, but he'd been lazy. Still, they both needed more vegetables and more protein with the way they were working out. He'd be sure to go shopping soon and stock up.
She had to sit back in her chair and think about that one. "No cheese," she said absently, frowning in thought. "Um, I had a banana for breakfast. And one of those meal replacement bars for lunch," she said, grabbing her fork and twirling some of the noodles around it. Taking a big bite, she moaned in appreciation.
"Oliver, this is terrific. Absolutely fantastic. Guys who can cook are so damn sexy," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know why most blokes think that it's not manly. Most girls love having a guy that can cook around!" She grinned, reaching out underneath the table and brushing his leg with her bare foot. "See? You're worth keeping around." She winked.
He rolled his eyes, first at her lack of proper nutrition and then secondly at her raving over the meal and men cooking. "Then they're idiots. You can't live on your own and expect to maintain top form and not cook for yerself." Honestly - he could eat takeout everyday for the rest of his life, but his body didn't need that shit in season, especially not after losing their first game.
"We're getting up and eating breakfast in the morning - porridge, toast with peanut butter, an orange and a glass of milk. I'll owl lunch to the gym. Ye're gonna fuck yerself over eatin' like tha'. I'm surprised ye're no' dead on yer feet, girl." His eyes bore no argument. He wasn't letting one of his players run herself ragged. He handed her an extra piece of bread to reaffirm her eating better, though he brushed his bare foot back against hers, stroking the side of it absentmindedly with the ball of his foot.
Alicia rolled her eyes as Oliver went off on one of his rants about how she didn't eat well enough and how he was going to owl her lunch when she was at the gym. Silly, sweet man. Oh, and apparently he was starting now. Taking the piece of bread from him with another eyeroll, she took an exaggerated bite before placing it back on her plate.
"If you say so." It was just easier not to argue with him. She smiled when she felt his foot against hers, curling hers back around his ankle. "I feel fine, though. I mean, I get tired, but that's to be expected- I have been working pretty hard."
"Ye're no' eatin' right," he muttered, still on his tangent. 'And ye're probably pushing yourself too hard too fast,' he thought, though he didn't dare say it aloud. He wasn't affecting his sex life by pissing her off - and the thought bothered him a bit. So maybe being with- no, fucking Alicia (they weren't together) wasn't completely uncomplicated. He realized it probably wasn't the first time he hadn't spoken his mind fully around her for fear of her not putting out and he didn't like that he'd taken to doing it. Well, he just wouldn't do it anymore. He didn't need her to fuck him all the time and her body was more important than their sex life, right? "Ye're gonna push yerself too far if you don't at least eat proper." God, he was a fucking pussy - but he pushed the thought away until later. He didn't like thinking on it.
"You've gotta take care of yerself, Li."
"And you're sweet to worry, but I know what I'm doing. All right?" She made a face at him, a silly one that would hopefully make him smile and get him off of his soapbox. She ate another bite of spaghetti, giving him a pointed look as she did so.
Taking another pull from her beer, she set it back on the table. It was empty now and she considered the full one sitting next to it before grabbing it and standing up, heading back to the fridge to exchange it for a bottle of water. She didn't want to risk making herself worse in case she was even slightly dehydrated, which happened sometimes.
He smirked despite himself at her pointed look and shook his head as he ate. Okay, so she had him wrapped around his little finger just like Katie. As much as he grumbled about it, he loved having the love and affection he got from them, the silly little faces they made when they wanted something and their ability to sweet talk a hippogriff only added to their charm - not that he'd tell them so. He bit his lip, holding back the smart comment he'd been about to make when she got the water instead.
"Other than a lack of- other than that," he amended hastily, "How was yer day?" His foot was fully hooked with hers now, and though he didn't move it much, the warm reassuring pressure of her foot next to his was soothing.
When she sat back down, she felt his foot hook back around hers, and it made her smile. She was the sort of person who liked having physical contact with someone else. Taking a long drink of water, she shrugged. "It was all right. I just don't particularly enjoy having to do paperwork. I'm still waiting on lots of it so that I can fill it out, mail it back, et cetera. It's tedious."
She didn't speak much more, instead focusing on finishing her pasta. She was quite hungry, apparently, and the food was delicious. Finally, though, she was done and she pushed her plate away, settling back in her chair and taking another drink of water.
He nodded as he listened to her, eating a bit slower than her, just taking his time. He didn't say anything about the speed of her eating in relation to his thoughts on her eating properly and was content to just sit with her and enjoy the silence. She was eating now and that was important.
"Aye, I hate the paperwork of m'job. Coach has really given a lot of it to me and Phillbert trusts me with alot, so I do more paperwork than I'd like some days - no' tae mention playbooks." He shrugged and took a last bite before setting his fork down. He sighed in a content manner before standing and making quick work of the dishes. He glanced back at her and motioned her over with his head while he rinsed off the dishes. He always liked to pre-rinse them before setting the washing charm to run. He didn't think the charm ever got them quite clean enough.
He kissed her when she came near, giving her a mischievous look before turning back to the dishes. He'd only wanted her to come over so he could talk to her while facing her but her lips were tempting.
"You wanna do somethin' in a bit? Watch the tele?" he asked, glancing over at her as he rinsed the pot for the noodles. He was glad he knew enough about Muggles to learn the wonders of the television and VCR. It was the only was he got to catch all the Celtic matches these days.
"We can if you want. I don't have any plans or anything, just wanted to be lazy and relax," she said, hopping back up on the counter beside the sink so that she was facing him. "Want any help with those? I don't mind." She'd smiled when he kissed her and twirled a piece of hair around her fingers.
She reached out, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm up for just about anything. As long as it doesn't involve running. Or paperwork." He shook his head no in response to her offer of help, which was just as well because he was nearly done.
"No paperwork," he agreed, leaning over to kiss her as he dried his hands on the dishtowel. He pulled back and waggled his eyebrows at her before leaning in to kiss her again. "Maybe they make non-itch potato sacks, hmm?" he asked softly, nibbling at her lips. He pulled back after a moment and just smiled at her, his hair falling into his eyes a bit. He reached up to brush it back and smiled at her a bit more before stepping back.
"I dinnaken if I've ever relaxed so much before in my life," he said with a smirk, giving her a wink before turning and heading into the living room. "Not even before the war. I'm not sure if I know how to really relax," he said honestly, flopping out across the couch on his back. He'd get up if she asked him to, but he'd rather her lay on him to be honest.
She followed him into the living room like he had a string or something pulling her. Not in a bad way, though. She was just a people person and especially liked being around people she was close to. Besides, after the way he'd just kissed her she would've followed him to the fucking moon.
Stretching herself out on the couch so that she was half beside him, half on top of him, she sighed and smiled, snuggling into him. "Sure you know how to relax. You've got quite a good method, if I do say so myself."
He smoothed his hands down over her backside, paying particular attention to her arse. He fingered the edge of her little gym shorts with a smile before leaning down to kiss her again.
"Well, my absolutely amazing sexual prowess aside," he said, unable to hide the smug little grin, "I meant in general," he corrected. "I don't relax well. Never have. Even now," he said softly, slipping a hand under her top and tracing over her tattoo, even if he couldn't see it. "You know? Like, we've nothing to worry about - well, so far as end of the world and safety and war. It's over, yeah?" Oliver shrugged a bit before kissing the top of her head. "I dinnaken. I just feel like I'm uptight sometimes and I dinna have a reason tae be."
"Yeah." She was glad the war was over, but didn't really feel like she had a right to say so. She hadn't had to live through it like everyone else had; the only involvement she'd really had in the war had been visiting Katie after the necklace incident and fighting in the final battle. A small, selfish part of her nagged at her to admit that she wouldn't even have done that if she hadn't been out with her friends that night, because- well, she wouldn't have known. Her DA Galleon was packed up somewhere. She wouldn't have felt it heat, would've just gone right on doing whatever she'd been doing, gone to bed as usual, went to practice the next morning.
And she wouldn't have gone back to work at Gringotts, either, though she hardly regretted that. It had been a good experience, even if it was mostly hiding from the fact that her best friend had died in that battle.
"It's over," she repeated, sighing.
He cocked his head at her demeanor, not liking her tone of voice. He rubbed his hand over her back gently before cupping her cheek, encouraging her to look up at him. He held her gaze for a long moment before stroking the side of her head, his eyes searching hers.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.
"Nothing," she said immediately, instincts making her look away and not meet his eyes. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal. Anymore. "'m fine."
Even as she said it, though, she knew that she wasn't. And that eventually she would have to deal with everything, deal with the fact that Fred really was gone and that the war had happened, even though she hadn't been there. But she didn't want to deal with it right now.
So she just wouldn't.
He frowned at her words and tilted his head a bit to meet her eyes, though he didn't really succeed. He didn't like this Alicia, not a bit. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, pulling her closer and more fully on top of him with the other arm.
"That won't work with me, 'Licia," he said softly, his voice deep and thick with his accent, a sure sign of his concern. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, his blue eyes worried and unsure. What part of what he said had upset her? He'd be sure to never say it again. He didn't like her looking that way.
His lips on her cheek and his tone, the way that his thumb was smoothing over her cheek made her look up at him, made her brown eyes a little moist. Fuck. No. She wasn't going to do this.
But it was Oliver. And if she couldn't do it with him, who could she talk to?
She debated for a few more moments, but then his thumb stroked her jaw and broke her, her eyes filling. "Fred's gone," she said quietly, laying her head back on his chest and burying her face in the soft fabric of his jumper. "He's gone, and the last time that I saw him was the first time I'd seen him in a year and I knew there was a war going on and that bad things could happen and I still didn't tell him how much he meant to me."
Oh, Christ, he worried internally, gathering her close as she crumpled. He hugged her so close that her face was buried against his collarbone, and he could feel her tears soaking through his jumper. He frowned, kissing the top of her head, then her temple again and again, suddenly so lost for answers.
"Och, Li," he murmured. "Tha mi duilich," he continued in Gaelic, whispering a soft apology. He hadn't meant to make her cry and he kissed her temple again. "Oh, darlin', he knew," he said quietly. "I promise you he knew. How couldn't he know?" He smoothed her hair away from what little of her face he could see and hugged her close, as close as he could get her. God, he didn't like seeing her this way. It didn't seem right in his head and it tugged at his heart.
His lips on the side of her head were soothing, and so was his voice, that low rumble of Gaelic calming her almost as much as his touch. She felt comfortable here, safe, like it was all right to keep crying until she'd dried herself out. Which she did. "I hope he did," she said, her voice small. "I just- I wasn't here for so much of it. I guess I just feel guilty."
Propping herself up with a hand on his chest, she sniffled a bit and stared down at him with a small glare. "Damn it, Wood. I've managed not to break down about this for three years. How did you do that?"
He met her eyes when she propped up, his hand still touching the side of her face. He frowned at the sight of her and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. He leaned forward after a long moment and kissed her tenderly, hating the sad look on her face and hating himself just a bit for giving into emotions and feeling so easily. He shouldn't be so easily moved, but it was Alicia and he found that more often than not, and more recently than before, he couldn't hide from her.
"I'm yer captain, tha's how," he said softly after she asked. He smiled and kissed her cheek again, pulling her closer. "It's okay to breakdown sometimes," he said quietly. "Ye cannae keep it all in all the time." He kissed her earlobe. "And I dinna mind listenin' ever."
She curled into him, her legs draping over and tangling with his as her head went back to resting on his chest. One of her arms ended up slung across his stomach; the other was tucked back in-between them as she glanced back up at him. "Thank you," she said quietly.
After a few moments, she looked back up at him. "You know how much you mean to me, right?"
Maybe he was right, though. Perhaps it was okay to let things out, if you had someone to let things out with. Maybe part of her problem had been that she'd been isolating herself from everyone emotionally, and so when she had things that needed to be let out, there was nowhere for them to go.
He looked down at her and smiled softly, tracing a thumb over her bottom lip before nodding and swallowing slowly. It was an odd feeling, but he liked it. He desperately wanted to be needed by his friends, to be loved and appreciated, and while he knew they did, it always made his heart clench to hear it.
"Ye mean alot tae me, too," he said softly before clearing his throat, blinking a bit before kissing her forehead and sighing heavily. Leave it to the girls to have him an emotional idiot. He was at their mercy and he knew it. He was glad they cared about him and he was glad he had them in his life. "I really need to relax now," he said softly, hoping to lighten the mood. He wondered if it were too early for bed. Maybe a movie wouldn't be half bad, but he almost would rather just lay with her and drift off and just be.
She smiled at his last statement, snuggling into him a little more. "Me too. Y'know, I'm pretty comfy right here," she murmured into the curve of his neck, pressing her lips against the warm skin there and nuzzling. She loved how he smelled; his bed smelled like him and it was a very calming scent, though if you asked her she couldn't name it.
"Could just stay here on the couch. 's comfortable enough."
"Ye mean I'm comfortable enough, ye wee besom," he joked, still stroking her back and reassuring himself the the moment's breakdown had passed. He ran his fingers along her scalp before undoing her hair, letting it down so he could run his fingers through it. He liked how soft she was, how small and comfortable she felt against him. God, he was a sucker for girls - such a sucker.
"S'comfortable, though," he murmured, yawning a bit before closing his eyes, his head falling back a bit and angling toward the ceiling. "I could kip right here, but I dinnaken if tha'll be good for m'back in the mornin', aye? If we're gointae fall asleep, might's well do it in a proper bed, but then tha' requires movin' I dinna much wantae do just now." He was tired enough. He had a full belly and was warmed over from a mix of his shower, her body on his and a tingling feeling her lips left on him.
"You are quite comfortable," she agreed, kissing his jaw. "Mmm, that feels good. Keep doing that," she said, making a happy noise at the way his fingers were running through her hair. She was a sucker for people playing with her hair, it was for certain. Especially Oliver, because he knew just where to scratch and rub on her scalp to put her in a nearly comatose relaxed state.
"Don't wanna move either, but you're right- bed might be more comfortable," she murmured, the hand resting on his stomach rubbing small circles.
"You drive me to be exceedingly lazy though," he said softly, leaning back down to kiss her. He wondered what she did to make her lips, skin and hair - damn, all of her really - so very soft and inviting. A slow smirk drew over his lips as he kissed the corner of her mouth. "Well, not all the time," he amended, dragging his tongue across her lower lip. He chuckled and gazed back at her, his eyebrow arcing up. "Sometimes ye drive me tae be something else entirely, Miss Spinnet."