Author's Notes: Uh! That took a long time to update. Heh. Anywho, I was busy with Driver's Ed, so hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to update. With that out of the way, I would like to ask you all a favor. In the last chapter it was mentioned that our loverly six boys would be learning about other Magical sports. The only problem is I don't really know of any other Magical sport, and since I'm too lazy to come up with my own, I would like you to make something up for me. Don't worry, credit will be given. Just drop your ideas into the review box.
Oh, and just to warn you all... this chapter will contain unpleasant nakedness... well... sorta.
Thank You:
FrozenFire23: My first review! Thank you so much. Your kind words mean more to me than you can possibly imagine, and they gave me the boost I needed to start on the second chapter.
Makai Goddess Ookami: I am so glad you thought it was funny! Thank you very much!
Travis-J: Are you kidding me? There are loads of Marcus Flint fans! And thank you so much for the review!
And I would also like to thank Marcus Flint for being a sexy kickass Slytherin.
Dedication: For you, FrozenFire23!
Quidditch Therapy
Chapter Two-- Gymnastics and Men in Tight Suits
"I'm hungry."
"Eat your toe nails."
"That's gross... ."
"I do it all the time."
"Adrian... you're telling me that I've been kissing a toe nail-invested mouth for the past two months?"
"I brush my teeth. Sometimes."
"I should break up with you because of that."
Marcus groaned softly as the quiet bickering disturbed him from his sleep, rescuing him from a horrible nightmare. A nightmare about a meaningless therapy program for Quidditch obsessors; a demented German-speaking Russian therapist; and terrifying cloaked figures that could make any grown man piss in his pants.
He slowly lifted both heavy eyelids and blinked a few times before the blurry room swirled into focus. It did not take long for Marcus to see that the voices that had awoken him belonged to Terrence and Adrian, who were both sitting on the bed beside his. They were extremely close to each other and were doing something that caused Marcus to blink a few more times to make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him. Terrence slid his fingers down Adrian's chest while Adrian pressed his lips lovingly against Terence's cheek, muttering something that sounded like 'I want to kiss you'. Terrence did not bother to say no or anything at all. He simply tilted his head until their lips met, and a moment later their tongues were in each other's mouths.
"What the fuck are you two doing?" Marcus snarled and sat up gingerly.
Terrence's blue eyes grew wide as he pushed Adrian away and did a little back roll to the other end of the bed. It would have been a spectacular sight had he not fallen off the side and onto the floor with a loud thunk. He almost immediately stood up and brushed himself off while his cheeks burned with embarrassment.
"We... were... uh," Terrence stumbled, avoiding his ex captain's eyes. "I was just smelling Pucey's breath... because he asked me to."
More like taste, Marcus thought and rolled his eyes.
"Right. How's my breath?" asked Adrian.
Terrence looked as if he was about to answer with a no, but instead he said, "When was the last time you brushed your teeth, Pucey? Last year?"
Adrian scowled and threw a pillow at the other Slytherin. "You were probably sniffing your own bogey, you wanker."
The two began to argue as always and normally Marcus would have ordered them to shut up, but he was too occupied at the moment. He was staring at the bed Adrian was sitting on. A white bed to be amazingly specific. White sheets, white pillows, white, white, white. Where was the green? Where was the silver? Then something finally (and, well, miraculously) dawned upon Marcus's confused head. They were not in the Slytherin dormitory as he had believed this whole time but in a room that was all too familiar for the Slytherin Captain.
"Why are we in the hospital wing?" Marcus questioned, and Terrence and Adrian stopped bickering and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
"Don't you remember?" asked Terrence. "We were attacked by dementors."
There was an awkward silence, and after what felt like forever, Marcus broke it with a frustrated groan. He dropped back onto the bed and covered his face with his hands.
"You mean that it all wasn't a nightmare? It actually happened?" Marcus asked underneath his hands and quickly removed them afterwards to look at the two.
"Unfortunately. After you kicked Zifflewhateverthehellhisnameis and jumped on Wood, those white things around the pitch disappeared. Then the dementors came in, and we... well, we ran off to the other side of the pitch with Diggory and Potter," Adrian explained.
"You ran away and left me to die?" Marcus growled as he tried to come up with the most painful way to kill Adrian.
"We were calling for you to follow us," Terrence began quickly, "but you just stood up and yelled at them. You were saying something like 'Don't touch him'."
"Don't touch who?"
Terrence shrugged. "If I were to guess, I'd say you were talking about Wood. He was behind you, and it did look like you were protecting him."
"Is there something you would like to tell us, Flint?" Adrian asked with a grin, but it vanished instantly when he saw Marcus glare at him with furious eyes. At that moment, Marcus decided the best way to kill the boy would be a combination of ripping his limbs off one by one and choking him by shoving his fist down his throat.
"Anyway, the dementors started surrounding you, and all of sudden there's Zittymicklefee, pointing his wand at them. He said something, we couldn't hear, and this white thing appeared and rammed into the dementors and they all floated off," said Terrence. "By the time we walked back, you were out-cold."
"And now we're here," finished Adrian. "Even though there's nothing really wrong with us, Pomfrey said that we weren't allowed to leave until tomorrow morning."
"What time is now?" Marcus asked with frustration building up in his voice. There were so many questions that needed to be answered, and it annoyed him. Marcus Flint was never the one to ask questions... well, until now that is.
"Nearly midnight I suppose," Terrence declared. "We've been here since yesterday evening."
"Where are the other three then?"
Adrian took his turn to answer and nodded towards three beds across the room. "They were awake earlier when Zinnyluffergin came in and told us that we would be having another meeting tomorrow. We'll be in the Great Hall from now on.
Marcus looked and saw that Cedric, Oliver, and Harry were sleeping peacefully. He scowled at the oldest Gryffindor and wondered if he should finish what he had started the night before, but sleep was quickly becoming a much more reasonable option.
"Whatever," Marcus said to himself as he pulled the white blanket up to his chin. "I'm going to sleep, and if I wake up to you two shagging each other, don't think that I won't rip your throats out." He gave Terrence and Adrian one final glare and turned his back on them before closing his eyes and falling asleep.
Marcus had his eyes closed for only a second when he opened them to see Oliver sitting on the side of his bed.
"What do you want, Wood?" he growled while rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"I was checking to see if you were dead," said Oliver as he got to his feet.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Wood, but I'm still very much alive."
"How's your nose?" the Gryffindor asked after a short moment of silence.
"What?"
"Your nose... I broke it when we fought. Pomfrey fixed it, but I was just wondering... ."
Marcus narrowed his eyebrows and reached up to touch his nose. It felt perfectly fine... no pain... nothing, so he responded with a slight shrug. "It's all right. What about you?"
Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise for he had not expected the Slytherin to ask such a question. He looked at him for a second. Then two... then three. And before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed once again, only closer this time. He stared into Marcus's cold eyes and then down at his lips.
"I'm fine," Oliver whispered and leaned forward so that after seven years, he would finally feel Marcus's rough lips against his soft ones.
However, Oliver's lips did not reach their desired destination because Zvenigorodskii chose that exact moment to barge in.
"Everyone! Vake up! Vake up now!" he shouted and clapped his hands together. "Ve have a lot of vork to do!"
Marcus immediately pushed Oliver away, causing him to lamely tumble to the floor. They were suspiciously close to each other and Marcus did not exactly want Zvenigorodskii to suspect that there was something between them because... well, there's not.
"What do you mean wake up?" asked Marcus as he glowered at the short man. "It's only midnight."
"Stupid boy! Vhat are you talking about? It is thirty minutes before five! Dumbledore has kindly given us the Great Hall before breakfast. Now get up! All of you!"
For the past ten minutes Zvenigorodskii managed to wake Harry, Cedric, and Terrence up. Adrian, however, was a problem. No matter what Zvenigorodskii or the other five boys did (bashed his head with pillows, soaked him with freezing water, etc.) the Slytherin would just roll over and continue to snore and drool.
"Someone should kiss him," Harry suggested when they were all about to give up.
"Potter, no one is going to kiss Pucey," snapped Marcus as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. He then thought of Terrence and his snogging session with Adrian, and just as he was about to blurt out that Terrence would not mind kissing the sleeping boy, he decided that he did not exactly want people to know that his Slytherin Quidditch team was filled with shirtlifters.
"I vill!" Zvenigorodskii said almost too excitedly and climbed onto the bed. He straddled Adrian's stomach and leaned down, pressing his lips hard against the Slytherin's. The brave stunt did have some effect because before long Adrian began to moan and return the kiss. And suddenly, as if waking from a frightening nightmare, he snapped his eyes open and stared up at the therapist, who had not removed his lips quite yet.
"AHHHHWHATTHEFUCK!" Adrian yelled as he shoved Zvenigorodskii off of him, sending the poor Russian into the air. Harry and Cedric were fortunate enough to be at the right place at the right time and get knocked over by Zvenigorodskii. They did not exactly catch him, but they risked their own beautiful bodies to prevent Zvenigorodskii from hitting the hard floor. How thoughtful of them.
"Good job, Potter. Who knew an idea of yours would actually work," Marcus said as he grinned at the expression on Adrian's face. It looked as if he had gulped down a dozen goblets of dead sour lemon juice and got a pretty damn good sniff of squishy dog poop.
"About time!" Zvenigorodskii shouted as he scrambled out of the tiny pile of bodies. "Ve must hurry now! Ve vasted too much time!"
Marcus and the other five boys followed their therapist to the Great Hall, and the moment they entered it, they were surprised to see that all the tables were removed and the floor was covered with blue mats. They walked on them and felt that the mats were quite firm but soft compared to the floor. The boys looked at Zvenigorodskii, who closed and locked the doors, expecting an explanation.
"All right, boys," the little man said as he bounced onto the mats. "Last night vas very unfortunate, and it is promised that it vill never happen again. Dumbledore has told me that he got very upset vith the Ministry for alloving the Dementors to get out of hand like that. However, ve must stay indoors or go out during the day just to be safe! Vith that out of the vay, I vill talk about vhat ve are going to do today! Today you vill be learning about a sport called Gymnastics-"
"Gymnastics? What the hell is that?" Marcus interrupted and crossed his arms.
"If you keep your ugly mouth closed, you might learn something! Now shush!" Zvenigorodskii snapped and raised his wand. The boys immediately backed away but were relieved when the man turned and accioed a box from the other side of the Great Hall. It floated over to them and gracefully landed right beside Zvenigorodskii, who nowfaced the boys with a creepy smile that revealed his amazingly straight teeth. This made Marcus incredibly jealous. "Gymnastics is a Muggle sport, and it requires a lot of skills! A lot more skills than Quidditch! Now, before I go any further, you all must put this on!" Zvenigorodskii leaned over, opened the box, and pulled out what looked to be a tight piece of clothing. "This is a suit thingy that all gymnasts vear! I could not afford men's uniforms with Muggle money, so I got vomen's instead! Since they are no vomen gymnasts vho are as big as you, I charmed them to expand a bit. Vhen you put them on, your suit vill shrink until it fits you perfectly. Ve don't have very much time, so you vill change in here! Everyone go find a spot against the vall and take off all your clothes before putting on the suit! And do not look until I say so!"
Cedric was the first one to go to the box and pick out his suit, which happened to be yellow; Harry and Oliver pulled out red suits; and Marcus, Terrence, and Adrian, who was still completely freaked out about the horrifying incident earlier, picked the last three green suits.
"In case you haven't noticed yet, I changed the suits to your house's colors," Zvenigorodskii announced as the boys had spread out to find a spot against the wall. They all started to change at the man's command, but Marcus did it with so much speed, that anyone watching would have not had the chance to see his delicious butt. It was not like he wanted to hide anything, since he was proudly large in one certain area, but he fancied an opportunityto see everyone else change.
Once he put the hideous suit on, it started to shrink aggressively to the point where Marcus could suffocate and die. However, he did not really bother to notice as he was too busy turning his head to catch a glimpse of some naked bodies. Unfortunately for the Slytherin, his curious eyes landed on something so terrible, so wrong, that his eyes were threatening to pop out of their sockets and explode.
Zvenigorodskii was as naked as he was on the day he was born, and his butt was right there for all to see. Marcus quickly faced the wall and gagged, thinking to himself how lucky he was to see that side of the therapist and not the other. He nearly died at the thought of seeing Zvenigorodskii's co-
"All right! You all may turn around!" shouted Zvenigorodskii, who seemed to have changed into a gymnast suit as well, saving Marcus from going any further into his disgusting thoughts. "Quickly! Let us begin! Now... many gymnasts train for years and years, but ve only have a few days! Today ve vill go over some of the basics, and tomorrow you vill learn more of the complex thingies! The first thing I vill teach you boys is the cartvheel. Vatch and learn!"
The six boys watched as Zvenigorodskiiran as fast as he short legs could manage across the blue mats, and right in the middle of the Great Hall he raised his arms above his head, leaned sideways, planted his hands on the mat, sailed his legs into the air, and landed his feet safely back on the ground.
Unbelievable, Marcus thought as he gaped at the therapist. He looked around to see the others' reactions, and each one of them, except for Adrian who was absentmindedly picking at his gymnastic suit, appeared to be inspired. If a tiny man could do that extraordinary stunt, surely they could do it too without breaking something important.
"Ugly boy!" Zvenigorodskii shouted. "You do cartvheel now!"
Marcus blinked at him, wondering if the man was stupidly serious, and started to laugh. "Do you honestly expect me to do that? It's just nearly as hard as pronouncing your name, except I might actually break my neck attempting this dumb thing."
"That is what the blue mats are for, boy!" snapped Zvenigorodskii. "Do it now or you may leave and serve all of those detentions!"
Marcus groaned and stepped forward to the center. He glared down at Zvenigorodskii before squatting and performing a rather pathetic front roll.
"There," he said as he stood and brushed himself off.
Zvenigorodskii scowled and shook his head. "Again! And do it right this time!"
"Whatever you want, Zitzerfiggy," growled the Slytherin Captain. He bent over, placed his hands on the mat, and kicked his legs up into the air. As he accomplished the most unathletic movement in the history of the universe, he lost his balance and smashed his head into the ground. The blue mat prevented any damage to what little Marcus had in his head, but it did not stop his suit from ripping embarrassingly, which was caused by the violent spreading of his legs as his body tried desperately to find a way to not hit the floor.
Gravity can be such a bitch.
"Fuck," Marcus muttered as he stood for the second time. He realized that there had been a rippage but was not precisely sure where the rippage was. Fortunately for him, the cool air against his firm buttocks told him exactly where.
"Cute arse," teased Oliver while Harry and Cedric howled with laughter. Marcus glared at them and covered his "cute arse" with his hands as he made his way towards his clothes.
"Fuck," he said again and began putting his robes on. Zvenigorodskii, however, had different plans and repaired Marcus's suit.
"You stay and vait for everyone else to do their cartvheels, clumsy boy!"
And because Marcus did not want to serve over sixty detentions, he sat down as the five other boys reluctantly took turns doing the cartwheels. No one was as terrible as Marcus because no one fell on their heads and ripped their suit thingies. Oliver seemed to have surprised them all by performing a nearly perfect cartwheel. Even Zvenigorodskii was impressed, but who could blame the tiny man? Oliver was so graceful with everything he did that it was mind-boggling that the boy had taken up such an aggressive sport.
Delicate hands.
Slender body.
Angelic face.
All those features were not meant for Quidditch, but somehow Oliver managed to make it work. He managed to use those delicate hands to block the Quaffle almost all the time. He managed to use that slender body to protect the three goal hoops with ease. And he most certainly managed to use that angelic face of his to distract Marcus.
Marcus watched as Oliver was asked to do yet another cartwheel and smirked when the boy did so because this allowed the Slytherin to look at him move in ways that could be oh so useful in... well, bed.
He immediately decided that gymnastics was not so bad after all.
Author's Notes: I'll admit... not too happy with this chapter. ;-; :sob: It did what I wanted it to do, but... oh well. I hope you enjoyed it more than I did. Again, I need some creative minds to make up some special Magical sports! If you can do that for me and review, I will love you forever.
And just so you all know, I've been having evil problems with words squishing together. I tried to go back and unsquish them, but either I couldn't find them all or they squished themselves back together. Sooo... if you see them... kind of ignore their squishyness.