Warnings: SLASH, as in, male/male in a sexual and/or romantic relationship. If this bothers you, FUCK OFF as Flint would say. Don't think there's anything else... no violence... nope, this one's clean. Oh, of course, there's *fluff*.
Disclaimer: The entire world is waiting for Harry Potter V. If I owned these boys, would I be writing this or The Order Of Phoenix?
A/N: I have *no* idea where this came from. If you do, please enlighten me. This is based on the hilarious thought of Marcus being less scary than everyone thinks he is. And see? I'm still writing Oliver/Marcus! *smirk* Oh, hi Ashley! I *knew* you'd read this!
~~~
There was Slytherin, the house of the bad guys. The pupils there were generally mean, witty, and arrogant. They had a good Quidditch team, something they were *very* proud of, and the Captain of it was Marcus Flint. He wasn't as clever as most Slytherins - he had even had to repeat his seventh year after failing some exams. He was big, dark and rough. Pretty much everyone was scared of him.
Gryffindor, the house of bravery, had a good Quidditch team, too. Oliver Wood was their Captain. Wood was charming, good-natured and friendly, with an irresistible Scottish accent and looks to die for. Pretty much everyone wanted him.
Those two rivals, Flint and Wood, were far too different from each other to be friends. They were rivals and enemies, never friends. But, they *were* lovers. And the entire school knew that. Or at least suspected that. There were too many times when Wood, the Keeper, had failed to catch the Quaffle in time because he had been too busy watching Flint's every move. There were too many times when Flint, a Chaser, had failed to score because he couldn't see anything but Wood and in the end threw the Quaffle right at him. There were too many times when they both were missing for a few hours and then showed up again - Oliver happy, talking to everyone, and Marcus quiet and irritated-looking but also very... relaxed. There were too many times when Oliver had to ask for Percy's Potions notes because "Flint had been distracting him." And after saying that Oliver went completely red and said something vague about how Flint had been bugging him through the lesson with stupid comments.
No one actually thought that whatever was going on between them was inappropriate. Everyone thought it actually made sense. Oliver needed to relax a bit, and if a good fuck could make that happen, no one minded. And Marcus... Well, *everyone* wanted Wood, why wouldn't *he*, too? And no matter whether or not they found it weird (a Gryffindor and a Slytherin!), it was still something the pupils *loved* to talk about. The topic of the... well, year.
"Think about what it would be like if one of the teachers walked in here now..." Marcus said with an amused smirk.
Oliver smirked, too. "Well, they'd probably just apologize and leave us alone," he said. "Though they might be pretty amused..." It was true. Any teacher, except maybe uptight professor McGonagall and Snape, who hated Gryffindors, would've found the situation amusing. Two boys in an empty classroom, their tongues down each other's throats, Marcus's hand down Oliver's pants.
Yes, even the teachers knew - or at least suspected. They weren't *that* stupid. Snape had actually once made a remark about how the two boys should concentrate on his lesson instead of each other in the middle of a Potions class. Everyone had thought it was hilarious - they had been almost killing themselves with laughter - while Oliver had been completely red and Marcus had grunted a "fuck off." Which had, of course, made Snape take 5 points from Slytherin ("Language, Flint.").
There were theories. The most popular one was that they had been fighting and suddenly found themselves fucking and realized this was what they had been after all along. Some said that Oliver, who was so uptight about everything, needed some release, especially before a Quidditch match. And Marcus... he liked it rough. It was convenient; it was perfect. Everyone assumed Flint was the big bad one, the one who got to fuck Oliver - who of course begged for it - until neither of them could walk straight. Some people even thought Flint was just *using* poor Oliver.
It never occurred to them, that maybe Wood was just using poor Marcus. That maybe *Wood* was the one who had the other Quidditch Captain begging for more. No one really knew about how much Oliver loved to be in control - except for the poor Gryffindor Quidditch players, who Oliver tortured with practice. The Weasley Twins sometimes joked about what kind of a control-freak Wood must be in bed, but it was *never* anything but a joke and no one ever paid much attention to it.
Then, there were theories about what kind of bond was it that they had. Most people said that they were just fucking. Fighting, fucking and playing Quidditch. It was what they were best at! Then there were jokes about them being madly in love. But they were jokes, something people laughed at. No one took them seriously. C'mon, Wood and Flint! Fucking? Oh yeah. In love? Hell no.
So *no one* knew Marcus had actually failed his seventh year exams intentionally, just to get to spend another year with Wood. He hadn't even told Oliver about his plans beforehand. He had just grunted him an "I sucked at that test" and cursed loudly when he was told he'd have to stay one more year. Hell, it was so much better, repeating a year with Oliver than having to wait that long for him! Oliver had believed his "Those fucking teachers, it was their fault that I didn't graduate!" for a while, but, as Gryffindors always were, he was a clever boy.
"So, did you fail your exams on purpose?" he asked Marcus calmly on the Christmas Break when they were lying in Oliver's bed after a round of rough sex, Oliver lying safely in Marcus' arms. They had both decided to stay at school and Oliver's only roommate, Percy, had gone to visit his parents. It was the perfect Christmas - they had each other, time and Oliver's empty room with a wide bed.
Marcus was so surprised by Oliver's question that no one, not even his mother (who always believed everything her dear son told her), would have believed his "What the fuck? Of course not!" And Oliver just laughed and said,
"Well, I'm glad you did... I might have done the same, you know..." And of course he wasn't completely serious. He wouldn't have repeated a year for *Flint*, now would he?
But Marcus wasn't stupid either. At Oliver's words, he raised an eyebrow and simply stated, "So I guess your parents aren't on vacation this Christmas after all, are they?"
And Wood smiled, shook his head and kissed Marcus. They kissed for such a long time that their hands started to wander, and when they parted for air, they were both starting to be hard, once again. Marcus smirked and disappeared under the covers. And Oliver sure didn't mind. His last coherent thought was, "What kind of an excuse should I give my parents so that I don't have to go home for Spring Break?"
They didn't care about what other people thought or said. All they cared about was that they had each other. But even if they didn't care about the other people, there still was no point in telling everyone they were having an affair... or whatever it was they had.
Well. It wasn't exactly an affair. They didn't exactly *know* it, but deep inside, they were hopelessly, completely in love. The signs were all there. One: there was this weird tingling sensation they felt whenever they saw each other. Two: their feelings had started to affect their performance on the Quidditch pitch (!). Three: if they ever jerked off (usually they had neither time *nor* need for that, thank you very much) they even *thought* about one another.
Sometimes, when they had had too much to drink or the sex was just too good, they declared their undying love for each other. Later on they just said it had been the drinks or the sex, of course. And then they pretended they believed themselves.
Neither of them liked books much, but once the library had come in handy. Soundproofing spells were not taught until the end of seventh year - ("Teach a soundproofing spell to third-year students and they'll never listen to you again!") - but Oliver and Marcus had *desperately* needed to learn how to do it in the beginning of Marcus's seventh and Oliver's sixth year ("C'mon, Wood, you couldn't keep quiet even if I had gagged you or were kissing you!"). So they had found out how to do it on their own. It wasn't much of an easy spell, but it had started to work after a month or two. And when they finally *were* taught, people had raised their eyebrows when Marcus had been able to cast one on the first lesson. They had joked about Marcus and girls. But when Oliver did the same a year later, people joked about Oliver and, well, boys. They didn't exactly use his name, but it was very clear to Oliver they were talking about Marcus. And like always, he blushed (adorably, I might add) and looked away.
They never discussed the future. They couldn't *see* a future. There was no future for them. Only the most hopeless romantics in the school said they might be keeping in touch after graduation. But in the end, fate had decided they were *far* too cute together to be separated.
Marcus's eyes were actually shining. He was pacing in front of the Fat Lady in the hallway, waiting for some kind soul to come and let him in. He didn't have to wait long; Harry and Ron let him come in and shared a mischievous grin when he disappeared into Oliver and Percy's room.
"Oliver..." Unbelievable, he had almost called the Gryffindor 'honey'!
Oliver turned around. He had the same shine in his eyes. For a moment they just stared at each other - and then, Oliver took two giant steps to get to Marcus and wrapped his strong arms around him, squeezing him *hard*. Marcus was just about to say something about needing air when Oliver released him.
"They want me to play for them," Wood mumbled. "They chose *me*."
Marcus only grunted one word, "Who?"
"Puddlemere United," Oliver answered easily. He didn't have time to ask who it was that had chosen Marcus, when the Slytherin kissed him. Roughly. Even more roughly than usually.
"Oh... so you too?" Marcus asked after the kiss. "Looks like we can't shake each other..." And he handed Oliver the parchment where there was a simple invitation to United's training camp, exactly like the one Oliver had gotten.
And so they played Quidditch professionally. They shared a room when they were travelling. They fucked every chance they got. They celebrated each victory in privacy. And it took the rest of the team two months and three days to figure out exactly *why* their Keeper was sometimes watching a Chaser of his own team instead of the Quaffle.
~Feedback more than appreciated~
What? Going already? Not so fast! Review first, you ungrateful reader!
Disclaimer: The entire world is waiting for Harry Potter V. If I owned these boys, would I be writing this or The Order Of Phoenix?
A/N: I have *no* idea where this came from. If you do, please enlighten me. This is based on the hilarious thought of Marcus being less scary than everyone thinks he is. And see? I'm still writing Oliver/Marcus! *smirk* Oh, hi Ashley! I *knew* you'd read this!
~~~
There was Slytherin, the house of the bad guys. The pupils there were generally mean, witty, and arrogant. They had a good Quidditch team, something they were *very* proud of, and the Captain of it was Marcus Flint. He wasn't as clever as most Slytherins - he had even had to repeat his seventh year after failing some exams. He was big, dark and rough. Pretty much everyone was scared of him.
Gryffindor, the house of bravery, had a good Quidditch team, too. Oliver Wood was their Captain. Wood was charming, good-natured and friendly, with an irresistible Scottish accent and looks to die for. Pretty much everyone wanted him.
Those two rivals, Flint and Wood, were far too different from each other to be friends. They were rivals and enemies, never friends. But, they *were* lovers. And the entire school knew that. Or at least suspected that. There were too many times when Wood, the Keeper, had failed to catch the Quaffle in time because he had been too busy watching Flint's every move. There were too many times when Flint, a Chaser, had failed to score because he couldn't see anything but Wood and in the end threw the Quaffle right at him. There were too many times when they both were missing for a few hours and then showed up again - Oliver happy, talking to everyone, and Marcus quiet and irritated-looking but also very... relaxed. There were too many times when Oliver had to ask for Percy's Potions notes because "Flint had been distracting him." And after saying that Oliver went completely red and said something vague about how Flint had been bugging him through the lesson with stupid comments.
No one actually thought that whatever was going on between them was inappropriate. Everyone thought it actually made sense. Oliver needed to relax a bit, and if a good fuck could make that happen, no one minded. And Marcus... Well, *everyone* wanted Wood, why wouldn't *he*, too? And no matter whether or not they found it weird (a Gryffindor and a Slytherin!), it was still something the pupils *loved* to talk about. The topic of the... well, year.
"Think about what it would be like if one of the teachers walked in here now..." Marcus said with an amused smirk.
Oliver smirked, too. "Well, they'd probably just apologize and leave us alone," he said. "Though they might be pretty amused..." It was true. Any teacher, except maybe uptight professor McGonagall and Snape, who hated Gryffindors, would've found the situation amusing. Two boys in an empty classroom, their tongues down each other's throats, Marcus's hand down Oliver's pants.
Yes, even the teachers knew - or at least suspected. They weren't *that* stupid. Snape had actually once made a remark about how the two boys should concentrate on his lesson instead of each other in the middle of a Potions class. Everyone had thought it was hilarious - they had been almost killing themselves with laughter - while Oliver had been completely red and Marcus had grunted a "fuck off." Which had, of course, made Snape take 5 points from Slytherin ("Language, Flint.").
There were theories. The most popular one was that they had been fighting and suddenly found themselves fucking and realized this was what they had been after all along. Some said that Oliver, who was so uptight about everything, needed some release, especially before a Quidditch match. And Marcus... he liked it rough. It was convenient; it was perfect. Everyone assumed Flint was the big bad one, the one who got to fuck Oliver - who of course begged for it - until neither of them could walk straight. Some people even thought Flint was just *using* poor Oliver.
It never occurred to them, that maybe Wood was just using poor Marcus. That maybe *Wood* was the one who had the other Quidditch Captain begging for more. No one really knew about how much Oliver loved to be in control - except for the poor Gryffindor Quidditch players, who Oliver tortured with practice. The Weasley Twins sometimes joked about what kind of a control-freak Wood must be in bed, but it was *never* anything but a joke and no one ever paid much attention to it.
Then, there were theories about what kind of bond was it that they had. Most people said that they were just fucking. Fighting, fucking and playing Quidditch. It was what they were best at! Then there were jokes about them being madly in love. But they were jokes, something people laughed at. No one took them seriously. C'mon, Wood and Flint! Fucking? Oh yeah. In love? Hell no.
So *no one* knew Marcus had actually failed his seventh year exams intentionally, just to get to spend another year with Wood. He hadn't even told Oliver about his plans beforehand. He had just grunted him an "I sucked at that test" and cursed loudly when he was told he'd have to stay one more year. Hell, it was so much better, repeating a year with Oliver than having to wait that long for him! Oliver had believed his "Those fucking teachers, it was their fault that I didn't graduate!" for a while, but, as Gryffindors always were, he was a clever boy.
"So, did you fail your exams on purpose?" he asked Marcus calmly on the Christmas Break when they were lying in Oliver's bed after a round of rough sex, Oliver lying safely in Marcus' arms. They had both decided to stay at school and Oliver's only roommate, Percy, had gone to visit his parents. It was the perfect Christmas - they had each other, time and Oliver's empty room with a wide bed.
Marcus was so surprised by Oliver's question that no one, not even his mother (who always believed everything her dear son told her), would have believed his "What the fuck? Of course not!" And Oliver just laughed and said,
"Well, I'm glad you did... I might have done the same, you know..." And of course he wasn't completely serious. He wouldn't have repeated a year for *Flint*, now would he?
But Marcus wasn't stupid either. At Oliver's words, he raised an eyebrow and simply stated, "So I guess your parents aren't on vacation this Christmas after all, are they?"
And Wood smiled, shook his head and kissed Marcus. They kissed for such a long time that their hands started to wander, and when they parted for air, they were both starting to be hard, once again. Marcus smirked and disappeared under the covers. And Oliver sure didn't mind. His last coherent thought was, "What kind of an excuse should I give my parents so that I don't have to go home for Spring Break?"
They didn't care about what other people thought or said. All they cared about was that they had each other. But even if they didn't care about the other people, there still was no point in telling everyone they were having an affair... or whatever it was they had.
Well. It wasn't exactly an affair. They didn't exactly *know* it, but deep inside, they were hopelessly, completely in love. The signs were all there. One: there was this weird tingling sensation they felt whenever they saw each other. Two: their feelings had started to affect their performance on the Quidditch pitch (!). Three: if they ever jerked off (usually they had neither time *nor* need for that, thank you very much) they even *thought* about one another.
Sometimes, when they had had too much to drink or the sex was just too good, they declared their undying love for each other. Later on they just said it had been the drinks or the sex, of course. And then they pretended they believed themselves.
Neither of them liked books much, but once the library had come in handy. Soundproofing spells were not taught until the end of seventh year - ("Teach a soundproofing spell to third-year students and they'll never listen to you again!") - but Oliver and Marcus had *desperately* needed to learn how to do it in the beginning of Marcus's seventh and Oliver's sixth year ("C'mon, Wood, you couldn't keep quiet even if I had gagged you or were kissing you!"). So they had found out how to do it on their own. It wasn't much of an easy spell, but it had started to work after a month or two. And when they finally *were* taught, people had raised their eyebrows when Marcus had been able to cast one on the first lesson. They had joked about Marcus and girls. But when Oliver did the same a year later, people joked about Oliver and, well, boys. They didn't exactly use his name, but it was very clear to Oliver they were talking about Marcus. And like always, he blushed (adorably, I might add) and looked away.
They never discussed the future. They couldn't *see* a future. There was no future for them. Only the most hopeless romantics in the school said they might be keeping in touch after graduation. But in the end, fate had decided they were *far* too cute together to be separated.
Marcus's eyes were actually shining. He was pacing in front of the Fat Lady in the hallway, waiting for some kind soul to come and let him in. He didn't have to wait long; Harry and Ron let him come in and shared a mischievous grin when he disappeared into Oliver and Percy's room.
"Oliver..." Unbelievable, he had almost called the Gryffindor 'honey'!
Oliver turned around. He had the same shine in his eyes. For a moment they just stared at each other - and then, Oliver took two giant steps to get to Marcus and wrapped his strong arms around him, squeezing him *hard*. Marcus was just about to say something about needing air when Oliver released him.
"They want me to play for them," Wood mumbled. "They chose *me*."
Marcus only grunted one word, "Who?"
"Puddlemere United," Oliver answered easily. He didn't have time to ask who it was that had chosen Marcus, when the Slytherin kissed him. Roughly. Even more roughly than usually.
"Oh... so you too?" Marcus asked after the kiss. "Looks like we can't shake each other..." And he handed Oliver the parchment where there was a simple invitation to United's training camp, exactly like the one Oliver had gotten.
And so they played Quidditch professionally. They shared a room when they were travelling. They fucked every chance they got. They celebrated each victory in privacy. And it took the rest of the team two months and three days to figure out exactly *why* their Keeper was sometimes watching a Chaser of his own team instead of the Quaffle.
~Feedback more than appreciated~
What? Going already? Not so fast! Review first, you ungrateful reader!