The narrow streets all looked the same. 'Face it…you're lost!' Whitney looked around, seeing nothing that resembled the area of London with which he was familiar. Since he'd been stationed here four months, he was pretty familiar with a lot of it.

'Stupid moron! Just had to let Chloe talk me into finding her a book on Celtic Mysticism!' And druid incantations. And that book on Spells and Curses that Lana had asked for. Whitney was pretty sure the "roommates" had been watching too many episodes of Charmed.

The bookstore that his buddy from the Embassy suggested was called Bell, Book, and Candle. Whit had checked it out, finding gifts for Chloe and Lana, but not what he was really looking for. Now, he was tragically lost in a rabbit warren of streets no wider than alleys and alleys straight out of Dickens. Or Jack the Ripper.

Frustrated, he turned an oddly angled corner into an empty alley, and -- BAM!

"Look out!"

It took him a few dazed seconds to come to terms with the fact that he'd been knocked flat on his ass in the middle of a cobblestone alley he'd have sworn was a dead end. Another second and he realized he'd been knocked that way by someone who had appeared literally out of thin air!

As the stars cleared from his vision, Whitney found himself looking up into a gorgeous pair of deep brown eyes surrounded by long fluttering eyelashes.

"You okay?" The voice was that of a native Brit.

Whitney took the proffered hand and leveraged up. "I think so."

He-of-the-Beautiful-Eyelashes-and-Sexy-Accent bent to retrieve the Smallville gifts that had tumbled out of their bookstore wrapper. He picked up one of the tomes and looked at Whitney skeptically. "You read this rubbish?"

The smirk on the young man's face hinted at a mischievous smile lurking just beneath the surface. "No, they are requested gifts," Whitney replied.

A sudden laugh and a pat on the back prompted Whitney to laugh as well. The touch sent tingles down his spine to join the ones created by the sexy accent.

"Friend, this is garbage; Bell, Book, and Candle would not know magic if a house-elf danced a jig in the middle of the shop."

Whitney began to gather the rest of his fallen items. "A house elf? Not to be rude but who are you and where did you come from? This alley is a dead end."

"Sorry mate, name is Oliver Wood. I was in a hurry to make the match and took a short cut. No matter now, I've missed the start. Never mind, you're a Muggle." He handed Whitney the last of the fallen lot. "Really am sorry I ran you over."

Whitney rubbed his head for a second. "I’m Whitney - Whitney Fordman.“ They shook hands. “I spotted a pub around the corner. A pint would be great and I have learned to appreciate soccer since I've been stationed here. I'd love to grab a match."

Wood chuckled, "Well mate, a pint is the least I can do, but I was not talking about soccer." He looked around then leaned close to Whitney and whispered, "I was talking about Quidditch. Don't worry, don't expect you to know or understand about magic."

"Magic? You mean slight of hand?"

"No, mate. Real magic. Witches, wizards, spells, potions, and sports played on broomsticks for a Golden Snitch." Wood laughed again, sending another tingle down Whitney's spine. Pretty soon he'd have enough for a convention. "You think I'm having you on, don't you?"

Whit wasn't sure if he did or not, but he damn sure wanted to hear more. The tall, lean Brit was working real magic on Whit, and he liked the spell. A lot. "Wood, where I come from people turn into bugs, control bees with their minds, foretell the future, stir up invisibility potions, start fires without matches... I personally have walked through walls!"

Oliver beamed. "Have you now? You don't look like a wizard --" Wood gave him a thorough once-over, sending the tingle out of Whitney's spine and straight into his cock. "-- but then, what does a wizard look like? Tell ya what…a pint and then I'll take to get some real books on magic."

The pub proved to be different from anything Whitney had seen during his stay in London. The people looked to be straight out of the Middle Ages, but after his assignment in Afghanistan nothing seemed too strange. Turning to his new friend, Whitney asked, “Oliver, where are we?”

“Welcome to Alsace’s Pub, serving the London wizarding community since 1540.” Oliver threw his arm around Whitney’s shoulder. “So Whitney, name your brew.”

The wicked grin on Oliver’s fair face made Whitney’s groin stir again, but he distracted himself with a look at the ‘menu’ scrawled on a chalkboard over the bar. Beverage selections like "Beetle Bog" and "Hair o' the Cat" made him decide, “I’ll have what you are.”

Oliver led them to a table in the corner, raised his arm to the bar, and signaled for two. “Tell me about yourself Whitney. What brings you to London?”

Whit leaned back in his chair, taking in the long lean man in front of him. “I’m a U.S. Marine stationed to the American Embassy here. This is my first day off in over a month.” He saw the question forming on Oliver’s lips and quickly added, “We are a bit understaffed at the moment.”

Oliver moved closer, but looked up when the mugs arrived. He handed one to Whitney, letting his hand linger for a moment on Whit‘s. He raised his mug. “Welcome to London.”

Whitney raised his mug in a toast and then matched Oliver’s gulp. The ale was heavy, yet amazingly smooth. The effect on him was almost immediate. “Wow…never tasted anything like that since I’ve been here.”

Oliver fixed his gaze square into Whitney’s. “Now you know why this place has been in business for almost five centuries. So tell me about you Whitney Fordman.”

Whitney smiled at the beautiful one that greeted him. “Well, not much to tell. I‘m from Kansas, a little town where nothing is as it seems. I‘ve been a Marine for a year and a half, got shot and lost in Afghanistan. Been here for four months, have five to go. After that…who knows? So what about you? What do you do when you‘re not picking up Marines. After you knock them down, I mean?

“You are very heavy, Whitney. Come on pick up your feet.” Oliver sighed as the door to his flat swung open at his hand gesture.

“Wow, I feel like a lightweight. Three…beers and I‘m…plastered.”

Oliver chuckled and helped his drunken friend on the sofa. “I’ve been drinking that stuff since I was a fifth year at Hogwarts. I’ve only been out for little over a year but it feels an age.” He said aloud but, with no confidence that his companion was alert enough to hear him.

Whitney did hear and commented. “Been out of high school for over a year. Feels like a lifetime ago. Sorry, my brain is muggled…uh, muddled…You work for the Ministry as an…”

“I’m an Auror. Wanted to play Quidditch, but that was not to be. When do you have to be back?” Oliver sat down next to Whitney and began to rub his shoulders.

Whitney shifted to give Oliver better access to his broad shoulders. “Three days off, best they could do.” He moaned as Oliver found a knot of muscles. “That feels so good.”

Oliver whispered in Whit’s ear, “I can make you feel even better.”

Whitney couldn’t deny all the flirting that had gone on at the pub. Turning to look at Oliver, Whitney licked his lips, dropping a hand to caress one of Oliver’s thighs. “Can you now?”

Oliver’s eyes brightened at the invitation. “You have no idea.” He leaned forward and captured Whitney’s mouth in a kiss. It progressed to full fledged passion in moments. “Come, this will be much better in the bedroom.”

Whitney stood with a little help, then pulled Oliver into a full body hug and assailed his mouth with a fierce kiss of his own. His erection grazed Wood’s, pulling moans from both men. “Bed sounds really good right now.”

Oliver pulled Whitney with him to his room. “I hope all the tales of Marine prowess are true.”

Whitney laughed. “Seeing IS believing. Trust me, you are in for a long hard night.” He kissed Wood, preparing to uphold the Corp’s honor and make his new friend very happy. He stripped out of his civies, happy not to be in uniform for a few days. He took in the long lean body of his new friend, admiring the wiry muscles and the uncut cock that was straining for attention. He finished removing his clothes off, his cock just as eager as Wood’s.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous!” Oliver walked over and felt the powerful, firm muscles, encased Whitney’s long lean frame. Oliver was drooling at the thought of such a awesome man in his bed. “A promise is a promise.” Being slightly shorter, he had to angle to kiss Whitney but be also pushed him onto the bed. Straddling the hips of the Marine, he continued kissing, rubbing his body in full contact with the other.

Whitney’s cock aching with desire, and Oliver’s ass was almost in perfect position to fuck him, but he did not want to hurt his friend. “Oliver…have you ever taken it?”

Wood kissed his Marine. “Yeah, but you’re a size bigger than I’ve had…I want it though…really want you.”

Rolling onto his side, Whit felt the smooth skin with his callused hands. The firm muscles were lean but not as built as his, he had never wanted someone so much as now. Kissing the smooth chest, he trailed his tongue along the faint line until his chin was bumped by Wood’s wood. Looking up and seeing the roaring flames of desire in those deep chocolate eyes, he took the hooded head in his mouth. Not the biggest cock he had ever sucked on, but he didn’t care. It was perfect as it was, as were the moans and thrashing he was getting. Pulling off the spit-soaked cock, Whitney turned Oliver slightly, allowing him access to the perfect ass. The muffled scream was all he needed as his tongue caressed the pink entrance.

Oliver had never had this done, and it was overwhelming. “BUGGER!” Another moan was torn from his throat. “AH!” That tongue was doing things, he was on fire, his cock ached with desire. “WHITNEY!”

Music to his ears. Whit looked in the nightstand and found what he needed. Rolling the condom and quickly lubing it, he pushed his cock into the pulsating pucker. “Yes!”

Oliver had never had a cock like Whit’s, thicker and longer, cut as well. His back was press against the solid chest, his legs scissored open allow Whitney full access. The hand on his cock was driving him insane. He needed to shoot.

Whitney stopped and held still. “No, can’t come yet. Doubt the prowess of the Marine now?”

A groan of despair came from his mouth, “Please, I’ll never doubt again…please?”

“All I needed to hear.” Whitney began to move at a faster pace and replaced his hand on Wood’s weeping cock. Knowing Oliver was close, Whit picked up speed until his hand was wet and the ass muscles clenched his cock. He shuddered as he found his own release.

Trying to catch his breath, Oliver grabbed the hand still holding his dick. “Bloody bastard!” he mumbled.

Kissing Wood’s temple, Whitney assured him, “The night has just started.” 

“Oliver?” Whitney whispered at the dozing man next to him. “Oliver? Do you have anything to eat?”

Oliver rolled on top of Whitney, looking at his bedmate. “Whitney, it’s three in the morning.”

Whitney snuggled closer. “I know, but I’m hungry. Do you have any food?”

Kissing Whitney lightly, Oliver reached over and grabbed his wand. “I can whip something up for us?”

“You mean…magic food?” Whitney finally managed to croak out.

Laughing, Oliver kissed Whitney deeply. “Nothing wrong with it, it is real food.”

Whitney responded to the kiss, Whitney ran his hands down Oliver’s back. “Its not the same. Any place open?”

“At three in the morning, are you daft?” Oliver kissed Whitney’s neck, the taste of his Marine driving him crazy.

“I’m not daft.” Whitney moaned from Oliver’s assault. In self-defense, he picked up a pillow and hit Wood with it. “Stop trying to distract me. I’m hungry!.”

“So am I, but not for food.” Oliver absorbed another hit and returned the blow. Moving on the offensive, he dropped the pillow and began to tickle Whitney.

“HEY!” Whitney rolled and counter attacked, pinning Oliver underneath him. Leaning down, he captured those lips and kissed Wood deeply. “Okay, I’m hungry for something else, too, now. I can tell you’re up for it.” Whit slid down to so he could wear Wood out and grab food once the sun came up -- assuming that he and Oliver left the flat anytime soon. Magic food might have to be tolerated because bed was the only place he wanted to be right now.

Oliver straddled Whit. Finding a condom, he placed it on the solid shaft and slowly mounted it. “I’ll be sore for days, but damn you can bugger!” Sinking to the hilt, he let out a sigh and then began to fuck himself on Whitney’s thick cock.

“Heaven!” Letting Oliver control the speed and tempo of this round, he was going to be sore as well. This was the best sexual workout he had in months. “FUCK!” Oliver was tormenting Whitney’s cock with the use of muscle control. He was in no hurry; the edge was long gone, but the flames of lust were still burning.

Riding his new friend was a new experience for Oliver. The evening had been eye opening in many ways. The pressure was building in his nuts, he could feel it. Picking up speed, he could sense that Whitney was now thrusting into him as well, forcing Oliver to increase the tempo further. He dropped a hand and began to masturbate, stroking his cock to the rhythm Whitney was now setting. He heard the gasp and strangled cry as Whitney filled the condom and he let go and sent his come all over Whitney’s stomach. “Okay…I’m worn out now.”

Pulling Oliver towards him, Whitney slipped out and disposed of the condom. Kissing his new mate, Whit asked again, “So, what’s for breakfast?”


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Site Design: B'Lane for Silver Moon Design

Disclaimer information: Don't own them, just have fun with them.
Each story may contain or does contain explicit NC-17 material. You have been warned.




Author's Notes: This is a Christmas present to Chad. May he spread the Oilver love all over the place.


This is a HP/Smallville crossover.