Arm days sucked. Forget Quidditch. No, literally, quidditch has ruined Oliver's life. Maybe not actually, it had kept him fit. Then suddenly a Slytherin was there. Oliver was just minding his own business in the Room of Requirement when fucking Marcus Flint walks in on him. Marcus was truly tempting to Oliver. At just over six feet, Marcus was slightly taller than Oliver. But Marcus had been drawing Oliver's eyes since their third year before everyone hit their growth spurts. When the Slytherin chaser threw it right at his stomach, Oliver could've sworn he'd fallen in love. Except that's not how it works in real life.

Oliver just wanted to lift weights and work on keeping in shape for quidditch season. It was his seventh year and he had faith that they could finally win. Or at least crush Slytherin again. He had already stepped up practices from three days a week last year to five days a week this year.

Oliver just pushed the barbell up again to finish his last of the 10 reps on his third set. He had to finish the weights before Marcus started or Marcus would have all of his attention. He was almost done for the day. At least Marcus wasn't staring at him. He seemed to have moved to the treadmill and started running. So Oliver re-racked his barbell and set about returning the plates to their rightful position. He grabbed a few wipes from the dispenser and wiped down the barbell, the bench, the plates and just to be safe he wiped down the rack.

He refused to acknowledge Marcus. It wasn't his fault the surly Slytherin chaser was there. Oliver moved to the aerobic side and picked out a bike to hop on. He didn't want his legs to turn into chicken legs. Even though quidditch didn't require much muscle below the thighs, didn't mean Oliver would slack on his workout. He wanted to bike 20 kilometers before he left.

It seemed Marcus did a reverse of Oliver's workout. He started with aerobics and then moved to anaerobic activities. For the first half hour of Marcus's workout, he was on the treadmill. Then he moved to the weights. He started with Russian dead lifts. Clearly a leg day for the Slytherin. Oliver had a little joy out of seeing those legs flex. But Marcus was as straight and narrow with his pureblood path that it didn't matter. So Oliver kept his thoughts to himself and pedaled harder. But if his eyes tracked Marcus more than his tracker one couldn't blame him.

But then Marcus started glancing at him. And he needed to be paying attention to those weights otherwise, he could seriously injure himself. Oliver looked back down at his tracker. He was at fifteen kilometers. Oliver must have lost track of the time when following the sweat dripping down Marcus's biceps. But what sexy biceps, those were. Ugh. Oliver needed a boyfriend or laid. Both. Both are good.

By this point, Marcus had moved to the squat stand. Oh no. If he wasn't paying attention this could become ugly fast. He could blow out his back, then Oliver would never be able to introduce him to a whole other kind of blowing. Stop. He needed to handle his hormones.

Marcus didn't glance at Oliver during his squats. But after the first one, Oliver saw his back wasn't straight. He needed a spotter. Oliver looked back at his tracker, 19 kilometers. Whatever, he'd bike it next week.

He stepped up behind Marcus and put his left hand on Marcus's solar plexus and his right hand on Marcus's lower back. As soon as he touched Marcus, he felt a faint tingle in his right thigh, but he ignored it Marcus seemed wobbly on standing back up. Oliver guided him back up to standing. He guided Marcus through his squats. After 10 squats, Marcus reracked the barbell to the squat stand.

Before Marcus could comment, Oliver said, "How many sets are you doing?"

"Four," said Marcus. Oliver hoped he didn't mention that they didn't talk on a normal basis. He would take feeling those muscles under his hands as he spotted the sexy Slytherin.

Man, but it was torture. Oliver wasn't going to let the Slytherin mess up his back, though. Oliver helped him through his entire squat exercise. No more comments were made. Marcus pushed through most of them, but on his last five, Oliver helped him back up. Since the squats appeared to be Marcus's last exercise of the day, they both left the room. Marcus turned right to head down to the dungeons and Oliver turned right to head up to Gryffindor tower.

Oliver knew he smelled awful. His first destination was the shower. Only once he was rubbing the soap all over himself did he find the dumbbell etched into his right thigh. It was his soulmate mark. Great. Just great, a straight and narrow Slytherin purist was to be his soulmate.

Oliver calmly finished taking his shower. Then he dressed for bed. He put his head against his pillow and screamed. At least it was muffled. Guess he would need to have a real conversation with the Slytherin. He'd deal with it in the morning. Or in a year, or maybe a decade. Like after Hogwarts. Or maybe never.

A/N: I have an idea for a longer expanded Oliver/Marcus. But it'll be in a different universe than this one is. This one is part of the series that I may expand upon later. I'm marking it as complete because these could all stand alone. Hope you liked it. Also, this was inspired by a mood board? I don't know what they're actually called but it was on tumblr. It was by Dramione84. Go check them out. Just search Oliver Wood it was the one with 12 pictures.