The Heart of the Game

Chapter 2: Purgatory

By: The Brat Prince

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Don't want it. Too much paperwork. Just want to rent the boys for a day.

When he told them they would be playing against Hufflepuff, not Slytherin, they were overjoyed. He wasn't. Oliver didn't want to put his chance of winning the wager on the line. He couldn't afford to lose this early in the game. He went off on them, told them to practice harder, to play better.

            When they played against Hufflepuff, he lead them like a general leading his troops. All his hopes were resting on Harry. And then the dementors came. He could see Flint in the crowd, smirking as Harry plummeted to the ground.

            He felt his hopes crushed with the bones in Harry's body. Diggory caught the snitch. Diggory won the game. Oliver had already lost. He ignored Fred and George's optimistic tune in the showers, yelling at them irritably instead, "GET OUT! Just…get out." He wanted to cry, to scream, to something.

            The Weasley twins left, but Oliver stayed. He wished Diggory would die a thousand deaths so he could share the pain he felt at that moment. He wished Marcus had never made that stupid bet.

            In the steaming mist that surrounded him, a shape appeared, "Losing so soon? I had expected you to lose against Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff. Kind of a disappointment though. I had been looking for a good fuck. You just took it away from me."

            For a millisecond, Marcus's voice flickered, like he wasn't sure of what he said. And Oliver's mind searched frantically for what the other boy saw that he was missing. Marcus's form was beautiful. Oliver could feel the steaming water rolling down his shoulders and imagined Marcus joining him, their bodies slick…and…then realization stuck him like a thunder bolt.

            "It doesn't count Flint. You said if I lost against Hufflepuff. I beat Hufflepuff, it was Harry who lost. I never let them get a goal." Oliver grinned. He had made that up off the top of his head, but technically, that was what Flint had agreed upon.

            "So you didn't." Marcus's eyes lazily roamed his body. If not for the steaming water and the shield of mist between them, Oliver would have blushed. As it was his skin was already a light shade of pink.

            "What was that prize? You get-" Marcus couldn't finish his sentence, as Oliver had pounced on him, and their tongues intertwined in a dance, in a game, as a prelude of the match to win Marcus's heart.

            When their bodies connected, when Oliver knew that Marcus's body was truly his, when he was inside him, it was like ecstasy. It was a drug he had never known and would never be able to get enough of.

            Upstairs, in the infirmary, Fred confided in Harry, "Oliver's still in the showers. We think he's trying to drown himself."

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            Hufflepuff lost against Ravenclaw, luckily for Oliver. With his own game against Ravenclaw approaching, his nights became a whirlwind of Marcus's salt and sweat intermingled with his own, his days the life of a dictator, organizing the Gryffindor team to get him what he wanted. What he needed. Yeah, he knew he needed Marcus like he knew he needed the plague. But in the same way, he needed him just as food and water was a necessity. As the days passed, that became very clear.

            The day was nice, not too windy, not too cloudy, no rain in sight. Aside from Harry eyeing that Ravenclaw girl, Cho, it looked like his lucky day. "Now, Wood-" Marcus started lazily, rolling onto his stomach. The crimson bed sheets made his skin look darker than it was.

            "-Oliver. How many times do I have to tell you?" Oliver grinned good naturedly. Marcus was scowling, not much new there. He seemed to hate the way Oliver would fawn over him in bed, the way he'd tease him and act like they were friends and not good fuck-buddies. Oliver didn't give much of a damn.

            "If you win today, I know I said you'd get my company, but-"

            "Hey! No backing out of the deal Marcus. It's as good as set in stone in my mind." Marcus sighed and rolled his eyes.

            "I swear, you're worse than a girl. What I'm saying is, don't expect me to go on any freaking picnics or whatnot with you. By company I meant talking. Civilly." He looked a bit disgusted at the word 'civil'.

            "Are you capable of that?" Oliver ducked, narrowly avoiding a pillow flying straight at his head, "Ah, Quidditch reflexes." His grin got broader, "Don't you worry. I'll win, no doubt about that. And we'll have a civil talk. You'll tell me all about yourself. Won't you?" Marcus grimaced.

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            Well, that little prat Malfoy had certainly gotten what he deserved. Nice little patronus Harry had tossed at them, fully developed or not. Plus, he'd caught the snitch. Even with that Chang girl batting her eyelashes. Oliver could have kissed him. He ran into the locker rooms and kissed Marcus instead.

            Unfortunately their "civil" talk had been delayed by potions. Gruesome class that was. Hadn't been very easy with Marcus attempting a game of footsie that resulted in lots of broken glass and flobberworms wriggling all over the floor. Definitely not a pretty sight. Snape had been in quite a vindictive mood too.

            Pity he thought that naturally, Percy had done it. With Oliver of course. Like Oliver and Percy could ever have anything going on*. However, just as Oliver thought he was facing a month's worth of detention, Marcus had convinced Snape that the detention would be better served giving Oliver the Quidditch workout from hell. So that the game would be fair of course.

            Snape had given Marcus a funny look until he mentioned something about how his father had been asking how classes were going. Then his eyes clouded over and he shoved them out of the room, leaving him alone with poor Percy. Their footsteps echoed across the dungeons as they ran up the stairs like bats out of hell.

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A/N: R+R would be nice. In desperate need of a beta reader and a proofreader. Don't quite want a copywriter cuz, um, the scary lady at the fanfic thingie today scared me with them. And my stuff isn't quite that professional. But I know there's typos because the keyboard sticks and a few words I just replace, homonyms and such. Plus, I'd like to know how you liked the fic, so review, review!

BTW, for anyone who writes Harry Potter fics, I just started a new site which I will from now on be shamelessly advertising throughout fics, Knockturn Alley. I'd like to put anyone's slash fics up, any couple. Just no NC-17.       http://www.geocities.com/xknockturn_alleyx/

We also take fanart! That can be limey…

~Love and skittles, Moony.