Word Count: 545
Summary: There's a new chaser on Oliver's Quidditch Team.
Notes: For bergann for still adoring me even though I haven't written since December.
"Listen up. Sit down and be quiet!" The Puddlemere United coach, Mark Hobb, pulled the door shut behind him and watched his team sit down on the benches.
"First things first, I've chosen our new beater. His name's Seamus Finnegan and he'll be at our practices from next week onwards. Now, for the game against the Falcons..." Oliver Wood listened to the plan, committing each move to memory. During practice he drilled himself in his manoeuvres, making sure he could do them perfectly.
In the shower after practice Oliver started wondering where he'd heard the name Seamus Finnegan before. He was sure he had but he couldn't put a face to the name. He breathed as the hot water relaxed his muscles and forget all about it.
The next monday, as expected, there was a new player in the men's changing rooms. Oliver took in the face and the hair as he shook Seamus's hand; he knew he had seen this man before but he still couldn't specify exactly where. Seamus looked four or five years younger than Oliver so they would have been at Hogwarts together for a time. Oliver hoped it was just that. During practice Oliver watched their new player. It was strange; his swings looked so haphazard but he always seemed to connect with the ball and send it flying in just the right direction. The bludger was stopping Jones, Lawrence and Blackwell from making their usual assaults on the goal hoops.
Finally, Hobb blew the whistle and the players all sank to the ground and headed towards the showers. Oliver sat down and took off his boots and socks.
"Hey Oliver." Seamus was walking past, pulling his shirt off and throwing it in the corner with his cloak and one glove. Oliver smiled up as he folded his cloak and put it in his bag but Seamus had gone again before he could say anything. Finally, Oliver wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into the showers. Seamus was standing in the middle one so Oliver politely diverted his eyes as he stepped into the one nearest the wall.
"You don't remember me, do you?" Seamus hadn't turned around to ask this question.
"I was in Gryffindor. Same year as Harry Potter." Suddenly Oliver remembered what Seamus had looked like at 11 and could see him sitting in a chair at the Gryffindor table. He turned around to grin and stopped dead. The hot water was careering down his back and he could feel his chest rise and fall. Seamus was still standing with his back to him but something in Oliver had unlocked and he could see the muscles in Seamus's arms as attractive as well as useful. Oliver let himself stare at Seamus's back and legs and arse and arms.
"You're staring," said Seamus and Oliver realised that he was.
"I'm sorry." Oliver turned the shower off and grabbed his towel, almost turning to run away.
"I didn't say I minded." Then Seamus was there, standing right next to him, almost touching him. "Maybe we should see where this goes?" Then there were lips and tongue and just enough teeth. Oliver wasn't instinctive like Seamus; he'd have constructed a plan but they both knew what they wanted.