Cheering Up

A/N: I was reading Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban and there was this part where George/Fred said that Oliver was drowning himself in the shower after losing the match. I got inspired and here we are, I've written my first Wood/Flint fic ever. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna write more with this pairing. 8)

Oliver sighed as he turned the shower off. Another lost match, eh? Lately it seemed like all there was. Lost matches. Once again Oliver found himself wondering if he really was a good captain at all. He tried his best to tell himself that it was one game, just one… they could still beat Slytherin and win the cup, right? Oliver hated losing… and he guessed he really shouldn't blame himself; it was those bloody Dementors that were at fault! Without them, Harry would've caught the snitch for sure.

If he was a good captain, he'd be visiting Harry right now, along with everyone else and make sure it hadn't been his fault and he still was the best seeker there could be. But Oliver was so caught up in his own misery that he just couldn't move. He had been in the shower for quite some time already…

"Wood?"
Oliver grimaced. Oh, great. His day just got even better! Marcus bloody Flint was in the changing rooms, calling his name. Oliver was so pissed that he stepped out of the shower, grabbed his towel and went to face Marcus. "Well? What do you want? Rub it in that we lost? Or maybe you wanna shag? Which is it?"
Marcus blinked his eyes and looked quite confused, a look that wasn't often seen in his face.
"No, I – "
"You know what? Shagging sounds brilliant right now."

Oliver pushed Marcus against a locker and smashed their mouths together. He had no idea when their usual fighting had turned into this. It had been that one time, when Marcus couldn't come up with a good enough insult, he had decided to use his fists and they had ended up fighting, Marcus had been on top of Oliver and then he had… kissed him. Which had seemed only like another way to fight so after a second, Oliver was in.

"Wait, just… hold on."
Oliver stared at Marcus as he pushed the Gryffindor away.
"What? You don't… want to?"
Was it even possible? It had been going on for months and every time Marcus even saw Oliver, they ended up shagging in the broom closet, in the changing rooms, in empty classrooms… wherever. He had never pushed Oliver away; the only one who did that was Oliver.

"No, I mean… I never thought you'd be the one jumping on me and that's probably the most arousing thing ever but…" Oliver blushed, realising he had been pretty aggressive and yes, Marcus was right, he had never done something like that before.
"But what? If you didn't come to shag me… you came to make me feel like shit, right?"

The fact that they had been shagging for months didn't mean that nothing else had changed. Marcus still treated Oliver like crap, he knew exactly what to say to ruin Oliver's day completely and usually he had the talent of picking the perfect moment when it was the last thing Oliver needed.

"No… I – I reckoned you were feeling like crap because of the match, that's what you always do and I know how that feels so I… I brought these."
Oliver stared as Marcus grabbed something from his bag; it was two bottles of firewhiskey. Alright, it was obvious Marcus didn't want to bully Oliver. He hadn't come to shag. He had actually been wondering how Oliver was feeling…? And his stuttering and the fact that he wasn't even looking at Oliver was weird enough… and was he actually offering something for Oliver? What was going on?

Marcus grabbed the other bottle, opened it and took a sip while he sat down on the bench.
"Go on, take it. It's not poisoned if that's what you think…"
"No, I'm just… confused," Oliver said, took the bottle and sat down.
"About what exactly?" Oliver glanced at Marcus as he took another sip.
"Well, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were trying to cheer me up."
Marcus glared at him with that usual way of his which made Oliver feel a little better, at least he knew it was Marcus and not someone who had taken polyjuice potion just to mess with Oliver.

"So what if I was?"
"Why would you of all people try to make me feel better after you've made me feel like shit for years?"
Marcus glanced at him, taking another sip from his bottle. "I don't hate you, you know…"
Oliver laughed dryly. "Then what? You fancy me?" Oliver asked, obviously joking. He nudged Marcus a bit and glanced at the Slytherin. Oliver froze when he saw something he had never seen before. Was Marcus actually blushing…? The both of them just sat there for a while, neither being able to move.

"Bloody hell! You do fancy me!"
Marcus got up so quickly that Oliver startled. "I never said that! I don't - fancy you or anything! Just… forget about it."
And with those words, Marcus strode away, banging the door behind him. Oliver blinked his eyes, tried to make sense of the situation. One thing was for sure: Marcus Flint did fancy him. Oliver wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. It was so absurd… but now that Oliver thought about it, it finally made sense why lately Marcus had kissed him in a way he never had before, almost gently. And he had often just stayed there, staring at Oliver with a weird look, not rushing off immediately after shagging.

Alright so the Slytherin obviously had a crush on him… when Oliver thought about it, he didn't feel bad at all. In fact, he found himself thinking that when his team would win Marcus' team, Oliver might go and cheer Marcus up a bit. Oliver grabbed the firewhiskey bottle which he hadn't even opened, deciding to save it for later. He was sure Marcus would appreciate it.