Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Why, oh why, can't I own it?! *cough cough* Sorry about that. Anyway, this is an Oliver and Marcus story and is dedicated to DarkShadowsHideThePain. Thank you for putting up with my many questions and I hope you enjoy the story! (Also, this gets pretty sappy and has a lot of angst.)

Warning! Man-on-Man action! Don't like, don't read!

"Oh. That's nice. Coolio. Yup. Alright. OK. OK. OKAY MUM. Yeah. Love you too. Alright. Bye mom. Alright. Okay. Mhm. Yes. I remembered to wash my underwear. Yes, I brushed my teeth. No, Mum. I don't have a girlfriend yet. Why? Ugh. I'm not discussing this with you again. GOODBYE MOTHER." Oliver slammed his muggle phone down. His mother was ALWAYS doing that. She always asked him the most embarrassing and ridiculous questions ever. Mostly about why he doesn't have a girlfriend yet. Has she ever thought that maybe it's not a girlfriend I want, that maybe it's a boyfriend? Oliver thought to himself. Yes, Oliver was gay, but he was too afraid to admit to his mother that he liked guys and not girls. He was always about pleasing his mother and making her happy. It would break her heart to know her little boy was gay. And not going to give her any grandchildren that she desperately wanted. At least, not right now. He didn't think he could handle kids yet. Yes, he was 27, but he still had his Quidditch career going on. Of course, that was only going to last for the next season, maybe two seasons. By professional Quidditch standards he was already too old to play this season, but the team just kept winning with him as their Keeper, so they kept him. Which was a good thing because he had no idea what he was going to do after they let him go. Not yet anyway. He was still working on that little problem.

Knock knock. Oliver looked at the door to his apartment. Who was here at this time of night? Looking at his clock, he noticed it was only seven, but still. He wasn't expecting anyone. He stood up cautiously, and walked over to the door, silently whispering a spell that would allow him to see who stood on the other side, but not allow them to see him. To his surprise, he noticed Marcus Flint standing there, his hands in the pockets of his black trousers, staring up at the ceiling and tapping his foot impatiently.

Oliver opened the door quickly. "Flint! What are you doing here?" He asked with a grin. Marcus smiled back at him and pulled the younger man to him in a hug. Oliver hugged him back tightly, and breathed deeply, taking in the mixture of Marcus's cologne, shampoo, and something unique only to the Slytherin. Merlin, why does he have to smell so bloody fantastic? Oliver thought to himself. They pulled away from each other and Marcus smirked.

"I'm here to invite you out to a club. Draco is having a party there to celebrate his engagement to Bill Weasley and I was invited along with a date. I decided you needed to take a break from work and have some actual fun for once." The dark haired man replied.

Oliver's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! Draco Malfoy and Bill Weasley are engaged? I never saw that coming. Wasn't Bill dating that Fleur woman? And why don't you take your boyfriend with you instead of me?"

Marcus snorted and rolled his eyes while walking into Oliver's apartment and taking a seat on his couch. "Jake and I broke up. We figured we were better off as friends. As for Weasley and Fleur, he left her when he found her fucking another guy in the bed Weasley bought for their brand new house. After that, he kicked her ass out, sold the house, and moved into one not far from where Draco lived. Apparently that's how they met. Draco was in his backyard setting up for a dinner party he was hosting and Weasley happened to see that he needed a bit of assistance, so he helped him set up. They started dating shortly after that."

Oliver sat down in the chair across from Marcus. "Wow. That sounds...Just wow. But you still didn't answer why you want me to go. Other than 'You need to get out and have fun.'"

Marcus huffed. "Maybe because you're my best friend and I want to spend time with you for once? You always make up an excuse nowadays to not see me. 'I can't, I've got Quidditch practice.' 'Sorry, Flint, I've got a meeting with my captain about the next game. I can't make it to lunch.' I'm surprised you're even home actually. I expected you to be out on the pitch or something." He glared at Oliver.

The younger man blushed. "I'm sorry, Marcus, really. I've just been too busy lately. Luckily I don't have anything to do tonight so-"

"Great! Now let's get you dressed." Marcus jumped up, pulling a small toy sized suitcase out of his pocket. With a wave, the suitcase was back to its original size and he carried it into Oliver's bedroom, sitting it on the red sheet covered bed and opening it.

Oliver walked in after him and looked curiously into the obviously over packed suitcase. "You were going to make me go even if I had something else planned, weren't you?"

Marcus nodded his head, not paying much attention to what Oliver was saying, but instead trying to see what shirt matched what trousers perfectly for how he wanted the Gryffindor to look tonight. "That's exactly what I planned to do."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What if I had a date though?"

"I would have told you to move it to another night. I'm more important than any date anyway. Now, go put this on." He shoved some clothes at Oliver and pushed him into the bathroom off to their right.

Oliver shut the door behind him and rolled his eyes. Only Marcus would think he was more important than a date Oliver might or might not have. He smiled at the thought, but that smile slowly slid into a look of horror as he saw just whatMarcus had pushed into his hands to wear.

"Oh hell no, Marcus! There is no bloody way I am wearing this anywhere!" He shouted with a hint of panic.

Flint opened the door to look at him. "What's wrong with it? I think you'll look fantastic."

Oliver turned his head away from the frightful clothes. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT?! I'm not even going to fit in these pants, Flint! What are they anyway?! Women's jeans?"

Marcus just rolled his eyes. "They're skinny jeans, Wood. And yes, you will fit in them. I wear them all the time. They're actually pretty comfortable and not just made for women. Now hurry up. We've only got two hours before we have to be there and I do not want to miss a single thing." With that he left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Oliver stood there shocked for a few seconds, then growled. How the hell am supposed to fit in these?

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver was dressed in the black Skinny-Jeans-Of-Death, as he liked to call them. Next came the tight dark blue T-shirt with writing that said, 'Some people call me Big Wood; and it's not just because of my height.(;' He was extremely hesitant to wear this, but he already tried to get a different shirt and Marcus almost ripped his head off. So he had to wear it. The only part of the outfit he was even remotely okay with were the black Puma tennis shoes he had to wear with it.

"Alright, Marcus, I'm dressed and I brushed my hair and teeth. Can I come out of the bathroom now?" Oliver whined pathetically. The older man had told him he could only come out if he was wearing the clothes he picked out for him and if his teeth were brushed. The door creaked open and sea green eyes peaked around the corner, assessing Oliver. The door flew open not even a second later and there stood Marcus in jeans just like Oliver's, a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons undone, and his black boots to match. His hair was perfectly messed up, giving him that 'Just Shagged And It Was Fan-Fucking-Tastic' look. Oliver almost drooled over the bit of skin revealed and how gorgeous Marcus looked in his outfit.

"Hmm. It's missing something. Yes, yes, that will do nicely." Marcus muttered to himself, eyeing Oliver critically. He pulled Oliver over to the desk in the right hand corner of the room, sitting him down in the chair, and turning him to face the door. Flint ran his hands through Oliver's hair, messing it up to his liking.

"Hey, Flint, stop that! I just brushed it!" Oliver cried out.

"That's the point, Wood. You can't go out to a club with your hair brushed down flat. Not when you are trying to impress a possible date. Merlin, don't you know anything?" Marcus replied, amused. He stepped back, eyeing his work. Oliver's hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed and didn't have time to brush it. Marcus crooked up the right side of his mouth in a smile that left Oliver breathless. "Good. Now you are bound to get a man tonight." The Slytherin stated, happy with his work.

I wouldn't want to get anyone but you, Marcus. Oliver thought, but he pushed that out of his head. Marcus was his best friend and there was no way he was going to ruin their friendship on a crush.

Except it's not just a crush. Oliver's mind thought back at him. It was true; Oliver had been harboring feelings much stronger than a simple crush for Marcus for a while now, but Marcus just didn't seem to reciprocate. Sure, they flirted with each other, but Marcus did that with everyone.

Marcus was humming happily to himself, packing clothes back into the suitcase much more meticulously than he had had them in before, his back to Oliver and his internal struggle. Finally Oliver just sighed quietly and stood up. "So are you done playing dress up?"

Marcus zipped up the suitcase and laid it on the floor beside the bed, then turned to Oliver. "Yes, handsome, I am. Just don't go and get anything on those clothes, alright? I had that shirt specifically made for you."

Oliver smiled. "Yes sir!"

Marcus's eyes flashed on the word sir, then turned back to their usual sea green. "So, I'm the boss of you? Hmm, that could come in handy later." He growled out, then winked and walked out of the bedroom to the living room. Oliver sucked in a breath and tried to control the twitch in his groin at the thought of Marcus telling him what to do in bed. Damn him. Why does he have to go and get me all excited like that?

"Well? Are you coming, or what?" Marcus called out, clearly smirking by the tone of his voice. Oliver rolled his eyes and followed the black haired man out the door.

"Hey, Marcus, glad you could make it!" Draco Malfoy called over the loud music playing in the club. He was leaning into Bill, who had his right arm wrapped around the blonde's waist. Bill nodded at the two men in greeting and they nodded back before telling Draco hello. Draco looked Oliver up and down, then smiled at Flint happily. "I'm glad you finally caught someone who's as good looking as you are. No offense to Jake, but I just couldn't picture you two together."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Draco, we aren't dating. We're just friends." Draco looked between them and raised his own eyebrow.

"Whatever you say, Flint. Well, we've got some dancing to do, so see you two later!" With that, the young Malfoy heir dragged his Weasley off to the dance floor which was more like a writhing mass of bodies all having sex with each other. Marcus laughed and pulled Oliver with him to an empty booth where they ordered their drinks. They talked with Fred and George who had showed up, along with the other Weasley kids, Hermione, and Harry Potter, who seemed to be looking for someone. Harry quickly found who he was looking for though, seeing as how he locked lips with Blaise Zabini as soon as the olive-skinned, black haired man showed up. They shocked everyone by this, but explained to their friends that they had been together for a few months now, but they hadn't been able to see each other recently because of Blaise's job. Everyone just shrugged and continued partying. They had seen weirder couples, (Charlie Weasley and Severus Snape being one of them. Apparently people were starting to have a thing for red heads.)

Oliver was slowly sipping his Firewhiskey, observing the people around him and the dancers on the floor. He wanted so badly to dance with Marcus, get out on the floor and show everyone that the gorgeous Slytherin belonged to him, but no chance of that tonight. Marcus was chatting up their waiter, who had spiked, dirty blonde hair, a slim, fit body, and startling turquoise eyes. His legs were molded into a pair of tight leather pants and his chest was covered in a silver short sleeve shirt that rode up to reveal his belly button. Oliver glared at him, then turned away with a sigh and went up to the bar to sit on a stool and nurse his drink.

"Hey, sexy, why do you look so down? Someone as good looking as you shouldn't be sad." A purring voice said to his right. Oliver lifted his head up from where he was staring into his whiskey to see a tall man with light brown eyes and shaggy black hair talking to him.

Oliver shrugged. "My best friend who I happen to be in love with is flirting with someone else. Not like it should matter to me, he won't ever see me as a potential boyfriend, but it still hurts like a bitch." He reached out and grabbed his drink, downing the rest of it in one swallow, then waved at the bartender for another.

"I'll buy his. And one for me too." The man said. He turned to Oliver and stuck out his hand. "My name's Darius, by the way."

Oliver shook his hand. "Oliver. Nice to meet you. And thanks for the drink."

"No problem. But could I trouble you for a dance in return?" He asked sweetly.

Oliver thought it over. He didn't really know this guy, but hey, Marcus didn't know their waiter very well and that didn't seem to stop him. "Sure. I'd like that." They downed their drinks and with a smile, Darius grabbed Oliver's hand and took him to the dance floor. They faced each other, Darius's hands on Oliver's hips and Oliver's hands on Darius's shoulders. The beat of the music pounding through their bodies, the sweat dripping off them, and the intensity of the people around them only increased their excitement as they danced song after song, causing Darius to grow bolder and slip his hands down to cup Oliver's arse and pull him closer. Oliver's eyes darkened and he tightened his hands on the dark haired man's shoulders before sliding his hands into the shaggy hair and tugging lightly. Darius growled lightly and ground his hips into Oliver's causing the smaller man to gasp and tilt his head back. Darius took full advantage of that by kissing and nipping lightly on Oliver's neck, both of them grinding into the other.

Darius kissed his way up Oliver's neck to reach his ear. "How about we take this somewhere a little more...private?" He whispered suggestively. Oliver nodded his head quickly and Darius smiled while tugging Oliver over to the stairs that lead up to the private rooms. Darius paid one of the bouncers for a room and they walked to door one. Throwing it open, Darius walked backwards, pulling Oliver with him, not even caring about what the room looked like, only concerned about how sexy the tan Quidditch player was going to be, writhing underneath him, naked, and screaming his name. Oliver though, had a second to glimpse the room he was in before he became too overwhelmed by the pleasure that was sure to follow. The walls were painted silver, the carpet a soft, plush black color. The bed was in the middle of the room, silver sheets with a black comforter covering it. Oliver didn't have time to investigate further though, as he was soon pushed down onto the bed instead, a large, warm body on top of his, a pair of lips attaching themselves to his. Oliver moaned, tangling his hands in black, silky hair. Darius's lips left his, and settled on his neck causing Oliver to moan louder and jerk his hips up, hoping to gain some kind of relief from his aching cock, but suddenly Darius was jerked away from him with a shout. Oliver opened his eyes, wondering what had happened only to find Marcus Flint standing over him, fire in his eyes, a snarl on his face. He was glaring daggers in Darius's direction, daring the man to get up from his position on the floor.

"Marcus? What the fuck are you doing?" Oliver asked confused. Marcus turned his glare to Oliver, but it was not as bad as the one he had given Darius. No, this glare had wave after wave of hurt in it instead, instantly breaking Oliver's heart.

"Wood, trust me on this one, he's no good for you. Now come on, let's get you home. You've clearly had one too many drinks." Marcus reached down and pulled Oliver off of the bed, walking them both out of the room and leaving Darius on the ground to glare at them both.

"Flint, I don't know what you think you're doing, but I have only had three drinks the entire night. I knew exactly what I was doing with Darius, and I was more than willing to do it. You get to flirt with whoever you want and do whatever you want with them, why can't I? Besides, you told me to pick someone up tonight, so I did." Oliver said angrily, after he and Marcus had made it back to Oliver's apartment. The Slytherin was pacing in front of the blazing fireplace while Oliver sat on the couch watching him.

"Ollie, you're my best friend, and I've heard about this Darius guy. He leads men on, then breaks their hearts for the fun of it. He enjoys hurting people and I wasn't about to let that happen to you. And I don't sleep with everyone I flirt with either; it's just harmless flirting, you know that." Marcus growled, still pacing the floor.

Oliver slammed his fist on the arm of the couch. "That's not it, Marcus, and you know it! Just tell me why you didn't want me with him! I was actually enjoying myself for once, and it was clear on both our parts that this was a one time thing, that we were going to enjoy ourselves, then leave. No emotions, just fun. Then you come along and ruin it! Why?"

Marcus ran his hands through his hair angrily. "BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU ALRIGHT?! I didn't want you to have sex with him because I couldn't stand the thought of anyone's hands on you but mine! I've wanted you for four years now Ollie, but I never thought you wanted me back. I tried to see if you did by flirting with you or telling you things about myself, but you never said anything, you just flirted back, or told me that I say that to everyone. But I don't, Oliver. I've never once told anyone other than you, how my childhood was, or how I managed to make it out of that hell hole my parents called a home without receiving the Dark Mark. I never told anyone that the reason why I can't stand to see tulips is because my aunt used to plant them every year with me at her house before my uncle killed her. I've only told you that. I've never been able to have a serious discussion with anyone other than you about how I actually feel. Goddamn it Oliver, I thought it was obvious how I felt about you. When I told you to find someone tonight, I meant me." He ended in a desperate whisper, on the verge of tears.

Oliver sat on the couch in shocked silence, thought after thought whirling through his head like a tornado. Oh Merlin, what have I done? I ruined everything. We could have been together ages ago, if only one of us had admitted our feelings. Fuck, how do I fix this before he leaves me for good?

"Marcus...I...I never thought. Merlin, I can't believe it." He whispered.

Marcus raised his head from his hands, rejection written across his face. "It's okay, Ollie. I know you don't return my feelings. I'll just grab my suitcase and leave you alone, alright? Sorry to have ruined your night and our friendship." He started to walk to Oliver's room to grab his stuff when he felt a hand grab his left wrist firmly, stopping him in his tracks. He looked at it, then up to Oliver in confusion, but he gasped when he found tears pouring down the other man's face.

"Don't go Marc. I love you too. I have for as long as you have. I never thought you liked me back though, you always flirt with other people, I thought maybe it was just part of who you are. I mean, you even flirted with the waiter tonight. I thought you didn't want me as anything other than a friend." He said through his tears.Marcus faced Oliver, cupping his face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that continued to flow down his Gryffindor's face. Oliver closed his eyes, and allowed Marcus to pull him closer, his head resting on the older man's chest. They stood there, their arms wrapped around each other, until Oliver stopped crying. He pulled back with a sniff, and wiped his eyes. Marcus watched him and then tugged him gently into Oliver's room, sliding the covers back on the bed and waving his wand to change their clothes into pajamas. They slipped into bed and curled up close to each other, falling into a deep sleep five minutes later.

A pounding on the door to the apartment woke the two men up the next day. Oliver groaned, and reached a hand up to his aching head, thinking that might have been what had awoken him. When the knocking continued though, he realized what it was. He stood up and padded out to the living room and opened the door, rubbing his eyes as he did so.

"Well it is about time you answered the door young man. I have been standing here knocking for the last ten minutes. Now, how would you like your eggs?" Oliver's mother asked, walking into the apartment and making her way to the kitchen. She pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed the eggs and milk, along with some bacon. "Where do you keep your pans?"

Oliver was frozen in his position in the doorway of the apartment, but hurriedly shut it and ran after his mother. The chestnut haired woman was standing with her back to him, looking through his cabinets. "Mum! What are you doing here?" He inquired with a hint of fright.

She turned around. "Well isn't it obvious? I'm making you breakfast! It's ten o'clock, yes, but I haven't seen you in weeks, and I wanted to spend some time with my baby boy before he has to go back to work." She said happily, a sparkle in her chocolate colored eyes. Oliver smiled at her and pointed his finger to the cabinet she was looking for.

"The pans are in there, Mum. And scrambled eggs are fine, thanks."

She smiled brightly at him. "Of course, dear." Turning back around, she found the pans she needed to cook breakfast, and started cracking eggs.

"Love? Who was at the door?" A deep, scratchy voice asked behind Oliver. The owner of the voice wrapped his arms around Oliver's waist and kissed the back of his neck lightly. Oliver's mum turned around to investigate, and her eyes widened at the sight of her son and his best friend in an embrace. Marcus looked up and muttered a curse while stepping back from Oliver. Oliver was staring at the floor, tears threatening to fall, scared about how his mother was going to react.

"Mrs. Wood. I didn't know you were here." He said quickly.

She smiled a little at the dark haired man, then flicked a concerned look over to her obviously distraught son. "It's okay, Marcus. And please, call me Delilah. Is this why you don't have a girlfriend then Oliver? I wondered if maybe it was because you were seeing Marcus. You could have told me, sweetheart, it doesn't matter to me who you love, as long as they treat you right."

Oliver blushed and looked at her, hoping she wasn't kidding. "I.. Actually, mum, we just got together last night. And yeah, this is kind of the reason I don't have a girlfriend. It would be a boyfriend."

"See, sweetie, no problem! I'm happy for you. Welcome to the family, Marcus!"

He smiled brightly and wrapped his arms back around an extremely relieved Oliver. "Thanks, Delilah."

A/N: Thank you to everyone that read this and so I shall gift you with any virtual cookie of your choosing! *Hands you a cookie* There you go. Good choice by the way. Lol. Please leave a review and tell me if you liked it or not!