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Challenges listed at the bottom.

Word Count - 500

Definitely A Keeper

The Leaky Cauldron was full to bursting, and fighting his way through the crowd was definitely not easy, but Oliver loved it. This was the kind of atmosphere that made him love Quidditch, and made him feel like he was the luckiest man ever to play it for a living.

Usually, they'd stick to the team venue after matches, but this time it had been a charity match and there were players from all around the country, so they'd decided on a more central location for the after party.

As Oliver almost reached the bar, he was jostled from the left and he automatically held his hands up to keep the other person on their feet.

"Whoever threw that paper, your mum's a hoe!" a familiar voice shouted and Oliver turned his head to see Marcus Flint at his side. He hadn't seen Marcus since the Battle of Hogwarts, where they'd worked together high above the Quidditch Pitch to hold of Voldemort's forces.

"Oh, hey, Wood," he greeted when he saw Oliver looking at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to run into you quite so literally, my teammates are assholes."

Oliver snorted. "No problem."

They moved to seperate, only to find their hands joined together. Oliver frowned and tried to pull away, and then blinked when he found he couldn't. Marcus was looking just as confused and then his eyes widened in understanding.

"This is the first time I've seen you since we both hit twenty one," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Understanding dawned on Oliver and his mouth fell open in shock. "Really? Really? Soulmates?"

Marcus snorted. "Apparently."

…

There were so many jokes. Marcus was being constantly told that Oliver was definitely a keeper, and Oliver was asked if Marcus had chased him down; it was embarrassing.

Quidditch Players were clearly the least imaginative people on the planet.

At least they'd only be stuck together for twenty four hours. It wasn't too bad, and thankfully neither of them had practice the following day.

So, with a shrug of acceptance, they did the only thing that made sense. They got absolutely hammered.

It was a riot.

…

"Why do I have a galleon stuck to my head?" Oliver asked, groaning when he opened his eyes to the bright sunlight streaming through the window. "And why do I feel like death?"

"I think both things have something to do with tequila," Marcus replied. "All I remember is opening the tequila bottle."

"Mistake."

"Huge one," Marcus agreed. "If I stay awake, I'm going to vomit."

Oliver grimaced and rearranged them into a more comfortable position, their joined hands resting on his chest.

"Go back to sleep. We'll go get food when it's not so bright outside. We'll talk then."

"Good plan."

Marcus closed his eyes and pressed his face against Oliver's shoulder.

Oddly, no matter how hungover he was, Oliver didn't think it was a bad thing. In fact, he thought that maybe he could get used to it.

Written for:

Romance awareness, Day 14 - When you meet your soulmate, you're literally stuck together for the rest of the day.

Romance Awareness, Extra - 30. The Leaky Cauldron

Showtime - 11. A Pub

Amber's Attic - 20. "Whoever threw that paper, your mum's a hoe."

Galleon - 37. Galleon

365. 211. Riot

1000. 279. Marcus/Oliver