R/I: Fettnäpfchen [fürs Team]
Jul. 24th, 2019 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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120_minutenChallenge: Romantik/Intimität: Fettnäpfchen [fürs Team]
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Oliver Wood/Charlie Weasley
Wörter: 1225
A/N: Für![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nachanca. Der Vorabend hierzu. Oliver ist Fußballspieler, Charlie ein Tierpfleger, dies ist eine RomCom.
“You know, the thing is…” Oliver trailed off, staring drunkenly into the night. It was still uncomfortably warm. The asphalt had stored the day’s heat and, okay, maybe Oliver was a bit too drunk and sitting a bit too close to Weasley and maybe it wasn’t that uncomfortable after all. “I really shouldn’t be this bloody drunk.”
They had made their way from the pub to a backyard parking lot two streets down and were now comfortably seated on the tarmac, sharing a bottle of disgustingly cheap wine and inching closer and closer together every minute. The last part might have been Oliver’s imagination. Or wishful thinking. - He was nothing if not a self-aware pathetic loser of a drunk.
“No, really, I should not be this drunk, the season starts in less than a month…”
Charlie took a pull from the bottle and Oliver determinedly did not watch his Adam’s apple move. “You’re taking football way too seriously, Wood.”
“No such thing.”
“Sure!” He threw his arms up, barely missing Oliver’s nose. “Twenty-two guys in shorts running after a ball? How is that something to dedicate your life to?”
“First of all: Fuck you. Second of all: Fuck you.”
“Just saying… It's kind of gay.”
“I’m not bloody drunk enough to deal with you, pass the bottle.” Charlie obliged and coughed. His face, somewhere beneath all the freckles, was bright red.
“Sorry, I didn’t… That’s a shitty thing to say, isn’t it?”
Oliver almost spit the slight bitter red over the tarmac. “What?!”
“Of course I don’t mean to imply--”
“What?!”, Oliver interrupted, barely suppressing a giggle. “That being gay is something bad?” Just to emphasise his point, he took his sweet time licking the wine from his lips. Charlie watched the movement with the purposeful cross-eyed focus of the stupidly drunk.
“Oh, blow me.”
“Tempting...” He managed to look sultry for about two seconds before breaking down in hapless laughter.
“Fuck you.”
By means of a peace offering, Oliver shoved the wine bottle at Charlie. “Your tendency to put your foot in is just so, so much fun.”
Charlie gave him a two-finger salute and Oliver dissolved into another fit of giggles. He really shouldn’t be this drunk. Under no circumstances whatsoever, but especially not while sitting next to Charlie Weasley, his leg pressed against another, way too warm leg. If he’d wanted to, he could have just leaned forward…
But he didn’t. Because Oliver hadn't made stupid drunk decisions since he'd been fifteen. Also, Charlie was a bloody disaster. A red-headed, freckled, gorgeous, self-loathing disaster with a temper and Oliver wasn't willing to make any bets on that not coming back to bite him in the arse.
“You’re a real piece of work, Weasley, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. By… oh, I think, every girlfriend I’ve ever had.”
“Have you ever tried dating one of your oversized lizards?”.
„Crocodylians.”
“Sure.”
They fell into silence, passing the worryingly empty bottle back and forth and Oliver didn’t even complain when Weasley lit up a cigarette. Instead, he watched the smoke rise into the night sky and smiled dumbly.
“Did you know that Chinese alligators sing together to attract mates?“
Okay, so maybe Charlie shouldn’t be this drunk either. Oliver chuckled. „No, I did not know that.“
„It‘s adorable.“ Weasley was mustering him intently, the hint of a smile almost as dumb as Oliver’s ghosting over his lips. „Anyway, my brother‘s getting married next week, wanna be my date?“
"Sure." Oliver grabbed the bottle from the other guy's hands.
“Hu. Thought I would have to talk you into that.”
Oliver took a long gulp. “After that cheesy opening with the lizards? You had me at ‘alligator’.” Another sip. “Also, I've always had a thing for redheads.”
“Watch out, Wood, people might start to think those short shorts are a fashion statement.”
“What is it with you and declaring football gay? - Wishful thinking?”
Charlie snorted. “Sure! I’ve been pining away after you for months now!”
This time, Oliver did a spit take, like he was in a stupid movie. “What?” he croaked, half choking on wine down the wrong pipe and half on feelings. “Don’t… Don’t say stuff like that in public.”
Defensively, Charlie held up his hands. “Sorry? I mean, I understand the yellow press would eat up shit like that, but how is that any different than... You just agreed to be my date to a wedding.”
Of course, Charlie was right. There was no rhyme or reason to the lines Oliver drew around himself since he’d been fifteen and had woken up in another guy’s bed for the first time. Mostly, Oliver was just a pathetic loser desperately trying to control his own story and his feelings and libido while he was at it.
He really, really shouldn’t be this drunk.
“No, no… sorry. You realise though that I can’t actually be your date date, right?”
“Of course!” Charlie looked almost relieved, and damn, that smarted. “You’re not gay.”
“What?” Oliver had have to misheard that. “No!”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
It was suddenly of utmost importance to grab Charlies’s face in both of his hands and to stare into those brown eyes and make him understand. - Not Oliver’s most awkward or most drunk coming out, but certainly up there. “No. I am gay. And a football player. And not interested in career suicide. That's why I can't be a proper date."
“You’re what?!”
“Seriously, how fucking shit is your gaydar, Weasley?”
“What?!”
It would have been very easy to snog Charlie right now, just to make a point and to get it out of his system. Instead, Oliver let go of the bloke’s face and emptied the wine bottle in one last swig.
“I’ve been flirting with you for weeks! And I know you want to take me up on it, I'm not blind.”
“I thought I was, maybe… imaging things?”
“A real piece of work.”
They fell into silence once again, only this time it was less companionable and felt a lot heavier. Oliver really wasn’t bloody drunk enough for any of this. And also quite possibly too drunk to actually follow up on what he was putting on offer here.
The night was starting to get chilly when Charlie finally spoke up again. "I realise I’m probably putting my foot in again, but... Are we going to have sex?"
"That's the assumption I'm operating under but, you know, it takes two to tango."
"To tango? How old are you again?"
"Well, 'Sex is pretty okay alone and I guess it might work fine with three people or maybe even four, but really, in my experience, two is the optimum number of participants' while more to the point, lacks the alliteration."
Weasley chuckled. “You are awfully poetic for a football player.”
"Oh blow me. I’m currently trying to talk my neighbour into gay sex, so…"
"Fair point."
And there was the silence again. Oliver missed the wine already.
"So?"
"So I guess your alliterations are working?" Charlie’s voice was hoarse.
"You think?"
"The only thing I'm thinking about right now is blowing you..."
"I can work with that."
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Oliver Wood/Charlie Weasley
Wörter: 1225
A/N: Für
nachanca. Der Vorabend hierzu. Oliver ist Fußballspieler, Charlie ein Tierpfleger, dies ist eine RomCom.“You know, the thing is…” Oliver trailed off, staring drunkenly into the night. It was still uncomfortably warm. The asphalt had stored the day’s heat and, okay, maybe Oliver was a bit too drunk and sitting a bit too close to Weasley and maybe it wasn’t that uncomfortable after all. “I really shouldn’t be this bloody drunk.”
They had made their way from the pub to a backyard parking lot two streets down and were now comfortably seated on the tarmac, sharing a bottle of disgustingly cheap wine and inching closer and closer together every minute. The last part might have been Oliver’s imagination. Or wishful thinking. - He was nothing if not a self-aware pathetic loser of a drunk.
“No, really, I should not be this drunk, the season starts in less than a month…”
Charlie took a pull from the bottle and Oliver determinedly did not watch his Adam’s apple move. “You’re taking football way too seriously, Wood.”
“No such thing.”
“Sure!” He threw his arms up, barely missing Oliver’s nose. “Twenty-two guys in shorts running after a ball? How is that something to dedicate your life to?”
“First of all: Fuck you. Second of all: Fuck you.”
“Just saying… It's kind of gay.”
“I’m not bloody drunk enough to deal with you, pass the bottle.” Charlie obliged and coughed. His face, somewhere beneath all the freckles, was bright red.
“Sorry, I didn’t… That’s a shitty thing to say, isn’t it?”
Oliver almost spit the slight bitter red over the tarmac. “What?!”
“Of course I don’t mean to imply--”
“What?!”, Oliver interrupted, barely suppressing a giggle. “That being gay is something bad?” Just to emphasise his point, he took his sweet time licking the wine from his lips. Charlie watched the movement with the purposeful cross-eyed focus of the stupidly drunk.
“Oh, blow me.”
“Tempting...” He managed to look sultry for about two seconds before breaking down in hapless laughter.
“Fuck you.”
By means of a peace offering, Oliver shoved the wine bottle at Charlie. “Your tendency to put your foot in is just so, so much fun.”
Charlie gave him a two-finger salute and Oliver dissolved into another fit of giggles. He really shouldn’t be this drunk. Under no circumstances whatsoever, but especially not while sitting next to Charlie Weasley, his leg pressed against another, way too warm leg. If he’d wanted to, he could have just leaned forward…
But he didn’t. Because Oliver hadn't made stupid drunk decisions since he'd been fifteen. Also, Charlie was a bloody disaster. A red-headed, freckled, gorgeous, self-loathing disaster with a temper and Oliver wasn't willing to make any bets on that not coming back to bite him in the arse.
“You’re a real piece of work, Weasley, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. By… oh, I think, every girlfriend I’ve ever had.”
“Have you ever tried dating one of your oversized lizards?”.
„Crocodylians.”
“Sure.”
They fell into silence, passing the worryingly empty bottle back and forth and Oliver didn’t even complain when Weasley lit up a cigarette. Instead, he watched the smoke rise into the night sky and smiled dumbly.
“Did you know that Chinese alligators sing together to attract mates?“
Okay, so maybe Charlie shouldn’t be this drunk either. Oliver chuckled. „No, I did not know that.“
„It‘s adorable.“ Weasley was mustering him intently, the hint of a smile almost as dumb as Oliver’s ghosting over his lips. „Anyway, my brother‘s getting married next week, wanna be my date?“
"Sure." Oliver grabbed the bottle from the other guy's hands.
“Hu. Thought I would have to talk you into that.”
Oliver took a long gulp. “After that cheesy opening with the lizards? You had me at ‘alligator’.” Another sip. “Also, I've always had a thing for redheads.”
“Watch out, Wood, people might start to think those short shorts are a fashion statement.”
“What is it with you and declaring football gay? - Wishful thinking?”
Charlie snorted. “Sure! I’ve been pining away after you for months now!”
This time, Oliver did a spit take, like he was in a stupid movie. “What?” he croaked, half choking on wine down the wrong pipe and half on feelings. “Don’t… Don’t say stuff like that in public.”
Defensively, Charlie held up his hands. “Sorry? I mean, I understand the yellow press would eat up shit like that, but how is that any different than... You just agreed to be my date to a wedding.”
Of course, Charlie was right. There was no rhyme or reason to the lines Oliver drew around himself since he’d been fifteen and had woken up in another guy’s bed for the first time. Mostly, Oliver was just a pathetic loser desperately trying to control his own story and his feelings and libido while he was at it.
He really, really shouldn’t be this drunk.
“No, no… sorry. You realise though that I can’t actually be your date date, right?”
“Of course!” Charlie looked almost relieved, and damn, that smarted. “You’re not gay.”
“What?” Oliver had have to misheard that. “No!”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
It was suddenly of utmost importance to grab Charlies’s face in both of his hands and to stare into those brown eyes and make him understand. - Not Oliver’s most awkward or most drunk coming out, but certainly up there. “No. I am gay. And a football player. And not interested in career suicide. That's why I can't be a proper date."
“You’re what?!”
“Seriously, how fucking shit is your gaydar, Weasley?”
“What?!”
It would have been very easy to snog Charlie right now, just to make a point and to get it out of his system. Instead, Oliver let go of the bloke’s face and emptied the wine bottle in one last swig.
“I’ve been flirting with you for weeks! And I know you want to take me up on it, I'm not blind.”
“I thought I was, maybe… imaging things?”
“A real piece of work.”
They fell into silence once again, only this time it was less companionable and felt a lot heavier. Oliver really wasn’t bloody drunk enough for any of this. And also quite possibly too drunk to actually follow up on what he was putting on offer here.
The night was starting to get chilly when Charlie finally spoke up again. "I realise I’m probably putting my foot in again, but... Are we going to have sex?"
"That's the assumption I'm operating under but, you know, it takes two to tango."
"To tango? How old are you again?"
"Well, 'Sex is pretty okay alone and I guess it might work fine with three people or maybe even four, but really, in my experience, two is the optimum number of participants' while more to the point, lacks the alliteration."
Weasley chuckled. “You are awfully poetic for a football player.”
"Oh blow me. I’m currently trying to talk my neighbour into gay sex, so…"
"Fair point."
And there was the silence again. Oliver missed the wine already.
"So?"
"So I guess your alliterations are working?" Charlie’s voice was hoarse.
"You think?"
"The only thing I'm thinking about right now is blowing you..."
"I can work with that."
no subject
Date: 2019-07-24 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-25 07:21 am (UTC)"[...] two is the optimum number of participants' while more to the point, lacks the alliteration." :D
Aber vor allem: "[...] half choking on wine down the wrong pipe and half on feelings." <3
no subject
Date: 2019-07-29 08:49 pm (UTC)Ich liebe es :D
Eigentlich suche ich ja nach einer Inspiration für einen Joker für die Angst-Tabelle und da paßt hier gerade nichts so richtig, aber OMG, so viele Sätze, die man als Inspiration nutzen könnte ... für andere Tabellen ... *setzt sich ein Lesezeichen*