Title: Hate
Pairing: Marcus/Oliver
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Oliver hates Marcus or does he hate himself for not hating him?
"This is your entire fault, you bastard!"
Oliver was growling while punching this face he hates the most in the world.
That guy makes him sick.
"I hate you!"
He feels like adding this part to make him understand how much his presence was unbearable, how much he wishes they never met.
Oliver doesn't want to cry because he shouldn't be allowed to.
His hand, the one he used to punch that bastard, hurts. This hand, where he is wearing that ring that burns his flesh, hurts but not as much as his heart. It feels broken. It hurts so much.
But not as much as the fact that this hateful guy refuses to fight him, refuses to hurt him when he deserves so much worse.
"I'm not fighting you, Wood" answers the guy through broken and bloody lips.
Oliver gives away a broken laugh.
The guy who fought him and beat him every day when they're students at Hogward today refuses to fight him, to hurt him, worse even, he is letting Oliver beating him up, today, when he needs the most to hurt, to be punished.
Unfair.
Why couldn't he have forgotten about him? Why did he spend all this nights after tournaments lying to his fiancée, telling her he was going to drink with his team mates when he was, in fact, pinned to a bed, a wall or a table, writhing under that same powerful guy, begging for "more", for "deeper", for "harder"?
And now she knows. And now she refuses to see him ever again. And now it hurts so much, not because he lost her but because he hurt her.
He is crying frankly, clinging to the guy's dark green sweat in cashmere. So soft, so warm, so comforting.
He doesn't deserve it either.
"Marcus..." he whispers through the pain, through his trembling lips.
"Yeah?" answers the taller guy.
He doesn't have any right to ask him that. Especially not him.
"Mind if I stay at yours tonight?"
Oliver spent the night at Marcus' place, cuddled against his strong and warm body, Oliver spent his life Marcus's head lying on his chest listening to the beating of his heart.