A/N: Been busy. Written a lotta RPS. Want to have my own site. Soon. I promise. Forget Me Not update next. Count on it. Thanks, E.
Tricks And Drinks Part III: The Perfect Morning
~~~
The first thing Marcus noticed when he woke up was that he wasn't alone. There was someone in his arms, someone's hair on his face. Oliver. Just the thought of Oliver sleeping peacefully in his arms, head buried in his chest, made his heart race. Oliver was finally where Marcus had wanted him to be for so long. Though Marcus had really thought they'd be spending more time in the Slytherin dormitory and not Gryffindor...
Marcus was lying on his side in the four-poster bed. The curtains were closed around them, rest of the world shut out by a silencing charm. Oliver's head was on Marcus's right arm, and the younger boy was breathing against his shoulder. Marcus's left was arm thrown very tight around Oliver's chest, holding him possessively. The moment was perfect in every single way. This was fucking heaven. Thank god for Saturdays.
It was a shame, really, to wake Oliver up, but Marcus wanted to do something other than just sleeping. Marcus let his left hand travel downwards, caressing the tender skin of his stomach. He touched Oliver's right side, then continued downwards before settling on just below his navel, rubbing the soft skin gently. Oliver whimpered and started to wake up. Marcus thought amusedly that he was definitely going to take advantage of knowing these secret places.
"Morning, Oliver," Marcus said softly, wrapping his arm around Oliver's chest again.
"Flint?" Oliver mumbled against his chest. "Uh... I mean, Marcus."
Marcus grinned. He wondered if he'd ever get used to Oliver calling him 'Marcus.' "Sleep well?" He could feel Oliver laugh softly at his words and demanded, "What's so funny?"
"You, asking me if I slept well... This is a new, interesting side of you. I've never seen you like this," Oliver replied softly, teasing, before placing a kiss on Marcus's shoulder.
Marcus rolled his eyes but didn't answer. So he had a soft spot for Oliver Wood, so what? It didn't mean he wasn't the same, big, bad-tempered, strong bloke everyone was so afraid of. It was true that he didn't usually give a fuck, that he liked kicking everyone's ass, but one thing was for sure: he'd never hurt Oliver. Ever. Hmph, pathetic, wasn't it?
Marcus was caught completely off guard when a hand suddenly slipped between his thighs. He couldn't believe he had actually whimpered at that. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had spent the last week discovering secret places. Marcus grabbed Oliver's wrist and with one, smooth movement had the younger boy pinned beneath him.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking about that," Marcus said good-naturedly before bending his head to kiss Oliver. They kissed neatly for a moment, but then Oliver surprised the Slytherin again. As smoothly as Marcus had done a moment ago, Oliver now pinned the older boy down, sliding on top of him. Oliver grabbed Marcus's wrists and held them above his head on the bed.
"W-what?" was Marcus's reaction. "Wow, you're strong," he chuckled when he got hold of himself again. He tested Oliver's grip a little, only to find it hold pretty well. If Marcus had really tried, he might've been just a little bit stronger. Maybe. He tested Oliver's grip again. Or maybe not. Maybe Oliver, though a little bit smaller in size, was a little bit stronger than him.
"Mm-hmm," Oliver said, smiling, and licked a path down Marcus's throat. "Why don't you let me be on top this time?" he asked, grinding their hips together.
What? Oliver wanted to be on top? Marcus hadn't considered that option.
"Funny, I assumed you were... *satisfied*... as the bottom," he said with a small smile.
Oliver stopped licking and lifted his head to look at Marcus. "Don't get me wrong, Marcus. I'm really... *satisfied*... but I'd like to top every once in a while. I think you'd enjoy it, too," he murmured warmly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. One of his hands let go of Marcus's wrist and travelled down the older boy's body to grab his cock. Marcus let out a shuddering breath.
"You think so?" he said, trying to stay coherent as Oliver's hand stroked him rhythmically.
"Mm-hmm," Oliver answered again, going back to licking Marcus's neck.
And Percy Weasley chose this moment to open the curtains and look inside.
~~~
Percy thought they wouldn't cast a silencing charm; after all, there was no one else in the dormitory. He thought he'd find Oliver sleeping soundly in his bed, just *maybe* Marcus's arms wrapped around him. He hoped Flint wouldn't be there. He didn't hear anything and the bed wasn't shaking - which he took as a good sign. After a few minutes of telling himself he could do it, he opened the curtains, only to find Oliver sucking on Marcus's neck while lying on top of him and pinning his hands above his head, the blanket fortunately covering most of their naked bodies.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" was Marcus's automatic reaction as he struggled free of Oliver's grip and pulled the covers up. Oliver lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder.
"Oh, hi, Perce. Um... hi," the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain said. There was a moment of pure discomfort, but then Oliver flashed a quick smile before turning to Marcus again. "Percy's here."
"I can see that," Flint said furiously, staring into Percy's eyes.
Gulp.
"Uhm, sorry, I thought... uh..." Percy stuttered, blushing and looking away from the two naked figures.
"Get the fuck out of here, *now*," Marcus growled coldly. Oliver decided to ignore their uninvited guest and went back to licking his boyfriend's neck. He bit down a little bit roughly and Marcus jumped, but didn't take his accusing eyes off Percy.
"Oliver, uh, I just ran into Potter. You're late for Quidditch practise," Percy said, trying to sound formal and find a way out of the horrendous situation.
Oliver lifted his head quickly and terror filled his expression. "What? Oh shit!" He turned to Marcus again. "I'm late for Quidditch practise," he repeated.
"Yes, I heard," Marcus said irritably. Fuck, this day was just getting worse. Well, if the morning had been perfect, it couldn't really get better, now could it? To Percy, he said, "Would you please get the fuck out so that we can put some clothes on?"
"Um, certainly. I... I'll leave you to it," the Head Boy said before pulling the curtains closed and disappearing.
"I swear, I'm going to kick his stupid ass..." Marcus muttered petulantly before placing one last kiss on Oliver's nose.
Oliver got up and took some clean clothes form his drawers. He put on his boxers and a pair of jeans. "I'm sorry, I have to go. And when it comes to Percy... you know, you *could* try to be nice to him, every now and then. I wouldn't mind if the two of you got along."
Marcus would've wanted to go back to sleep in those wonderful sheets that smelled just like Oliver himself, but he couldn't - wouldn't - leave Oliver alone with the Weasley. He got up, too, wondering where he had thrown his pants.
"I don't like him, he doesn't like me. End of story," he said simply while getting dressed.
"I know, but do you have to *fight* in front of me? Christ, I don't want to have to be in between you all the time, in case you attack one another..." Oliver continued insistently. "Honestly, Marcus, he isn't that bad. He's quite nice, when you get to know him."
Marcus just grunted. Then he grabbed Oliver's hand and pulled him out to the corridor. Percy didn't apparently know where to go, since he was standing in the hallway, as if waiting for Oliver and Marcus.
"Sod off," he told the Head Boy, ignoring Oliver's protests. "And you shut up. You have a practise to go to."
"Yeah, but I'm not letting you spy."
"I won't look," Marcus promised mischievously. "Besides, I have my own practise after that... well at least I think so."
~~~
Marcus was late. His Quidditch practise had gotten a bit out of hand; Malfoy had made some sarcastic remark about Oliver and really, Marcus had had no choice but to break his nose.
But then again, he should've been cleverer than that. Malfoy was always pissing him of, no matter what. And now that he really couldn't leave Oliver alone, since Percy would undoubtedly be there, he shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have punched that stupid third-year. But hell, it had been fun, feeling his fist hit Malfoy's little, stupid nose. Why did he always hit people in the nose instead of their jaw? Hmm. He had heard breaking people's chins could be a lot of fun, too...
Marcus was practically running down the corridor. Where the fuck was Oliver? He hadn't been in his dormitory, the Common room or even with his mates. Marcus had thought Oliver would wait for him until his practise was over, but apparently he had thought wrong. Now, where *was* he? And more importantly, was Percy with him? Marcus shook his head to get those thoughts out. Percy wouldn't touch Oliver. He wouldn't, because he knew he'd end up with a broken nose. Or maybe this time Marcus would go for his jaw.
Percy's room. How the fuck had he gotten here? Didn't matter. What mattered was that he was there now. He thought about knocking but then decided against it. He kicked the door and it opened. Whether or not it had been locked in the first place, he couldn't tell. At least it hadn't been magically locked, or it wouldn't have given in with one simple kick.
The place was empty. Fuck. Fuck his paranoia. Oliver was okay, had to be. Percy wasn't anywhere near him. But then again, why had the Head Boy come to the Gryffindor tower in the morning in the first place? Had the Quidditch practise been just an excuse? Had he figured out that spell and was now waiting for the right moment, the moment when Marcus would let Oliver out of his sight long enough and cast a reversing spell? *Fuck*!
Marcus pulled the door neatly closed, hoping no one would realize it had been him who had broken it - if it had actually been broken. He hurried down the hallway for a moment before stepping aside and considering his options. He would've checked the Quidditch pitch if he hadn't been there just a short while earlier. The Great Hall? Was it lunchtime? The library?
"Where the fuck are you, Oliver?" Marcus muttered to himself as he turned around and decided to check the library.
Percy was there. Percy fucking Weasley was sitting there, reading some stupid book about stupid Muggles. Marcus saw him immediately and almost attacked him.
"Where is he?" he demanded.
"Who?" Percy asked after looking up, blinking to clear his head.
"Wood," Marcus grunted. Then he rolled his eyes and corrected, "Oliver."
"You just missed him. He's heading for his dormitory. He's not far yet," Percy said, going back to his book, obviously uninterested.
Marcus didn't move a muscle. He kept staring at the Head Boy in front of him.
"Have you done anything to him?" he asked.
"What?"
"Have you done anything to him?!" Marcus repeated, a little bit more loudly than necessary. Everyone in the room looked at him and the librarian glared at them. Apparently she kept quiet only because she, too, was scared of Marcus.
"He's my best friend, what would I have done to him?" Percy said defensively. He lowered his voice. "And if you mean the counter-curse, the answer is no. He still loves you."
Marcus left without another word. He was getting a bit too obsessed over this for his own liking. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Percy succeeded, now would it? Marcus would still have had an amazing week with Oliver, a week he'd never forget. It was more than the fucking Weasley kid was ever going to have.
Right then he ran into Oliver, who had forgotten something in the library and was going back to get it. With his good persuasion skills - not to mention his kissing skills - he convinced Oliver that whatever it was, it could wait. They headed back to Oliver's dormitory together, ignoring the chuckles of other students.
And at the same time, Percy turned the page. And found exactly what he was looking for. As he read through the recipe, a wide smile spread on his face. He took the book and headed for his room. This was going to be easy.
Tricks And Drinks Part III: The Perfect Morning
~~~
The first thing Marcus noticed when he woke up was that he wasn't alone. There was someone in his arms, someone's hair on his face. Oliver. Just the thought of Oliver sleeping peacefully in his arms, head buried in his chest, made his heart race. Oliver was finally where Marcus had wanted him to be for so long. Though Marcus had really thought they'd be spending more time in the Slytherin dormitory and not Gryffindor...
Marcus was lying on his side in the four-poster bed. The curtains were closed around them, rest of the world shut out by a silencing charm. Oliver's head was on Marcus's right arm, and the younger boy was breathing against his shoulder. Marcus's left was arm thrown very tight around Oliver's chest, holding him possessively. The moment was perfect in every single way. This was fucking heaven. Thank god for Saturdays.
It was a shame, really, to wake Oliver up, but Marcus wanted to do something other than just sleeping. Marcus let his left hand travel downwards, caressing the tender skin of his stomach. He touched Oliver's right side, then continued downwards before settling on just below his navel, rubbing the soft skin gently. Oliver whimpered and started to wake up. Marcus thought amusedly that he was definitely going to take advantage of knowing these secret places.
"Morning, Oliver," Marcus said softly, wrapping his arm around Oliver's chest again.
"Flint?" Oliver mumbled against his chest. "Uh... I mean, Marcus."
Marcus grinned. He wondered if he'd ever get used to Oliver calling him 'Marcus.' "Sleep well?" He could feel Oliver laugh softly at his words and demanded, "What's so funny?"
"You, asking me if I slept well... This is a new, interesting side of you. I've never seen you like this," Oliver replied softly, teasing, before placing a kiss on Marcus's shoulder.
Marcus rolled his eyes but didn't answer. So he had a soft spot for Oliver Wood, so what? It didn't mean he wasn't the same, big, bad-tempered, strong bloke everyone was so afraid of. It was true that he didn't usually give a fuck, that he liked kicking everyone's ass, but one thing was for sure: he'd never hurt Oliver. Ever. Hmph, pathetic, wasn't it?
Marcus was caught completely off guard when a hand suddenly slipped between his thighs. He couldn't believe he had actually whimpered at that. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had spent the last week discovering secret places. Marcus grabbed Oliver's wrist and with one, smooth movement had the younger boy pinned beneath him.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking about that," Marcus said good-naturedly before bending his head to kiss Oliver. They kissed neatly for a moment, but then Oliver surprised the Slytherin again. As smoothly as Marcus had done a moment ago, Oliver now pinned the older boy down, sliding on top of him. Oliver grabbed Marcus's wrists and held them above his head on the bed.
"W-what?" was Marcus's reaction. "Wow, you're strong," he chuckled when he got hold of himself again. He tested Oliver's grip a little, only to find it hold pretty well. If Marcus had really tried, he might've been just a little bit stronger. Maybe. He tested Oliver's grip again. Or maybe not. Maybe Oliver, though a little bit smaller in size, was a little bit stronger than him.
"Mm-hmm," Oliver said, smiling, and licked a path down Marcus's throat. "Why don't you let me be on top this time?" he asked, grinding their hips together.
What? Oliver wanted to be on top? Marcus hadn't considered that option.
"Funny, I assumed you were... *satisfied*... as the bottom," he said with a small smile.
Oliver stopped licking and lifted his head to look at Marcus. "Don't get me wrong, Marcus. I'm really... *satisfied*... but I'd like to top every once in a while. I think you'd enjoy it, too," he murmured warmly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. One of his hands let go of Marcus's wrist and travelled down the older boy's body to grab his cock. Marcus let out a shuddering breath.
"You think so?" he said, trying to stay coherent as Oliver's hand stroked him rhythmically.
"Mm-hmm," Oliver answered again, going back to licking Marcus's neck.
And Percy Weasley chose this moment to open the curtains and look inside.
~~~
Percy thought they wouldn't cast a silencing charm; after all, there was no one else in the dormitory. He thought he'd find Oliver sleeping soundly in his bed, just *maybe* Marcus's arms wrapped around him. He hoped Flint wouldn't be there. He didn't hear anything and the bed wasn't shaking - which he took as a good sign. After a few minutes of telling himself he could do it, he opened the curtains, only to find Oliver sucking on Marcus's neck while lying on top of him and pinning his hands above his head, the blanket fortunately covering most of their naked bodies.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" was Marcus's automatic reaction as he struggled free of Oliver's grip and pulled the covers up. Oliver lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder.
"Oh, hi, Perce. Um... hi," the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain said. There was a moment of pure discomfort, but then Oliver flashed a quick smile before turning to Marcus again. "Percy's here."
"I can see that," Flint said furiously, staring into Percy's eyes.
Gulp.
"Uhm, sorry, I thought... uh..." Percy stuttered, blushing and looking away from the two naked figures.
"Get the fuck out of here, *now*," Marcus growled coldly. Oliver decided to ignore their uninvited guest and went back to licking his boyfriend's neck. He bit down a little bit roughly and Marcus jumped, but didn't take his accusing eyes off Percy.
"Oliver, uh, I just ran into Potter. You're late for Quidditch practise," Percy said, trying to sound formal and find a way out of the horrendous situation.
Oliver lifted his head quickly and terror filled his expression. "What? Oh shit!" He turned to Marcus again. "I'm late for Quidditch practise," he repeated.
"Yes, I heard," Marcus said irritably. Fuck, this day was just getting worse. Well, if the morning had been perfect, it couldn't really get better, now could it? To Percy, he said, "Would you please get the fuck out so that we can put some clothes on?"
"Um, certainly. I... I'll leave you to it," the Head Boy said before pulling the curtains closed and disappearing.
"I swear, I'm going to kick his stupid ass..." Marcus muttered petulantly before placing one last kiss on Oliver's nose.
Oliver got up and took some clean clothes form his drawers. He put on his boxers and a pair of jeans. "I'm sorry, I have to go. And when it comes to Percy... you know, you *could* try to be nice to him, every now and then. I wouldn't mind if the two of you got along."
Marcus would've wanted to go back to sleep in those wonderful sheets that smelled just like Oliver himself, but he couldn't - wouldn't - leave Oliver alone with the Weasley. He got up, too, wondering where he had thrown his pants.
"I don't like him, he doesn't like me. End of story," he said simply while getting dressed.
"I know, but do you have to *fight* in front of me? Christ, I don't want to have to be in between you all the time, in case you attack one another..." Oliver continued insistently. "Honestly, Marcus, he isn't that bad. He's quite nice, when you get to know him."
Marcus just grunted. Then he grabbed Oliver's hand and pulled him out to the corridor. Percy didn't apparently know where to go, since he was standing in the hallway, as if waiting for Oliver and Marcus.
"Sod off," he told the Head Boy, ignoring Oliver's protests. "And you shut up. You have a practise to go to."
"Yeah, but I'm not letting you spy."
"I won't look," Marcus promised mischievously. "Besides, I have my own practise after that... well at least I think so."
~~~
Marcus was late. His Quidditch practise had gotten a bit out of hand; Malfoy had made some sarcastic remark about Oliver and really, Marcus had had no choice but to break his nose.
But then again, he should've been cleverer than that. Malfoy was always pissing him of, no matter what. And now that he really couldn't leave Oliver alone, since Percy would undoubtedly be there, he shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have punched that stupid third-year. But hell, it had been fun, feeling his fist hit Malfoy's little, stupid nose. Why did he always hit people in the nose instead of their jaw? Hmm. He had heard breaking people's chins could be a lot of fun, too...
Marcus was practically running down the corridor. Where the fuck was Oliver? He hadn't been in his dormitory, the Common room or even with his mates. Marcus had thought Oliver would wait for him until his practise was over, but apparently he had thought wrong. Now, where *was* he? And more importantly, was Percy with him? Marcus shook his head to get those thoughts out. Percy wouldn't touch Oliver. He wouldn't, because he knew he'd end up with a broken nose. Or maybe this time Marcus would go for his jaw.
Percy's room. How the fuck had he gotten here? Didn't matter. What mattered was that he was there now. He thought about knocking but then decided against it. He kicked the door and it opened. Whether or not it had been locked in the first place, he couldn't tell. At least it hadn't been magically locked, or it wouldn't have given in with one simple kick.
The place was empty. Fuck. Fuck his paranoia. Oliver was okay, had to be. Percy wasn't anywhere near him. But then again, why had the Head Boy come to the Gryffindor tower in the morning in the first place? Had the Quidditch practise been just an excuse? Had he figured out that spell and was now waiting for the right moment, the moment when Marcus would let Oliver out of his sight long enough and cast a reversing spell? *Fuck*!
Marcus pulled the door neatly closed, hoping no one would realize it had been him who had broken it - if it had actually been broken. He hurried down the hallway for a moment before stepping aside and considering his options. He would've checked the Quidditch pitch if he hadn't been there just a short while earlier. The Great Hall? Was it lunchtime? The library?
"Where the fuck are you, Oliver?" Marcus muttered to himself as he turned around and decided to check the library.
Percy was there. Percy fucking Weasley was sitting there, reading some stupid book about stupid Muggles. Marcus saw him immediately and almost attacked him.
"Where is he?" he demanded.
"Who?" Percy asked after looking up, blinking to clear his head.
"Wood," Marcus grunted. Then he rolled his eyes and corrected, "Oliver."
"You just missed him. He's heading for his dormitory. He's not far yet," Percy said, going back to his book, obviously uninterested.
Marcus didn't move a muscle. He kept staring at the Head Boy in front of him.
"Have you done anything to him?" he asked.
"What?"
"Have you done anything to him?!" Marcus repeated, a little bit more loudly than necessary. Everyone in the room looked at him and the librarian glared at them. Apparently she kept quiet only because she, too, was scared of Marcus.
"He's my best friend, what would I have done to him?" Percy said defensively. He lowered his voice. "And if you mean the counter-curse, the answer is no. He still loves you."
Marcus left without another word. He was getting a bit too obsessed over this for his own liking. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Percy succeeded, now would it? Marcus would still have had an amazing week with Oliver, a week he'd never forget. It was more than the fucking Weasley kid was ever going to have.
Right then he ran into Oliver, who had forgotten something in the library and was going back to get it. With his good persuasion skills - not to mention his kissing skills - he convinced Oliver that whatever it was, it could wait. They headed back to Oliver's dormitory together, ignoring the chuckles of other students.
And at the same time, Percy turned the page. And found exactly what he was looking for. As he read through the recipe, a wide smile spread on his face. He took the book and headed for his room. This was going to be easy.