After going over and over the topic Oliver was trying his best to avoid Charlie let him sleep his awkwardness off. He woke the next morning to find Charlie sitting on the bed next to him in his Quidditch robes.

"Naughty, Naughty Oliver..." Charlie said, "..You are going to be late for practice.".

"Bloody hell..." Wood choked his head spinning in pain from the Firewhisky the night before. "...Ugh I don't have a training plan set out." He groaned heavily getting out of bed and finding his Quidditch robes on his bed. Charlie smiled,

"Don't worry, I wrote one for ya. Now get dressed and let's get started." To make it on time to the Quidditch field they exited out through the Dormitory window and flew down to the field where Angelina was standing crossed armed on the ground, the rest of the team already in the air.

"What took you so long?" She asked in irritation. Charlie smiled and kicked off from the ground to hover over her.

"Hey sour puss, let's see whatcha got." Angelina growled and chased after him up into the sky. Oliver mounted and kicked off soon after. Practice began.

Practice was grueling and now after not having made the practice lay out, he understood why his teammates weren't happy with him when he wrote them. He groaned as he pulled his guards off with some difficulty. He was so soar already that he knew tomorrow would suck. It didn't help that it had been raining and nothing Oliver was wearing was dry, even his undergarments were soaked. He striped completely in the quiet and deserted locker room. Throwing his drenched clothes to the floor with a heavy squelching noise, then headed for the showers. The water was hot and wonderful, Oliver moaned happily as the water cascaded down his back. His hair now soaked with hot water instead of rain water.

A figure moved quietly in the background as the sound of the water consumed Oliver's ears. The figure moved here and there, then watched Oliver in the shower for a moment then left the door closing as Oliver turned off the shower. He looked behind him jumping a little at the sound he dried himself off and grabbed a few clean clothes from his locker then turned to find his Quidditch robes cleaned and folded next to his broom. Clearly he hadn't just imagined the noise.

It was a cloudy day and Oliver Wood was wandering his way down the streets of Hogsmeade shrugging his waist length coat onto his shoulders a bit wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. He had been walking around for a while. He took a swig out of his flask as he walked out of the Three Broomsticks. The fall leaves made the road seem bright even under the cloudy day, he sat upon a bench for a moment to look up at the dark sky, then as a group of giggling girls passed him he got to his feet again began to walk again. He wanted some quiet so that he could think about the previous days all those very confusing feelings and information that had been tossed at him with some force. Flint hitting on him, Charlie fancying him... He was very taken aback with all of this and he just needed to clear his head. He stuffed his hands in his pockets it was getting colder as the day came to a close and Oliver decided to head back to the castle. He saw the same gaggle of girls from before talking to a figure some distance off. He was leaning against the cobble stone abandoned shop front and had that Slytherin posture. That casual yet proud posture of one who is both suave and egotistical at the same time. In truth their were a lot of those at Hogwarts, mostly 4th year boys. The man however was most definitely a 6th year and was without question the last person he wanted to see at the moment. The girls had moved on and yet Flint stayed put against the wall. Oliver grumbled to himself as he got closer and closer to his newly formed trouble. If Flint had been a problem in the past, he had just become more so. He crossed his arms, the long smirk Flint gave him was not comforting.

"Flint." Oliver said gruffly. Flint nodded to him.

"Oliver." He said his wide smirk growing, though Oliver was sure that it couldn't get much wider. His eyebrows raised slightly at Flint calling him by his first name.

"What do you want?" He asked. This seemed to be a perfectly fare question as it was hardly natural for Flint to call him Oliver, so this must mean that he wanted something. The answer he received however was not ready for, though he probably should've been.

"You." Flint replied shortly. Oliver stuffed his wand down further into his pocket as to avoid any possible nosebleeds. Oliver noted on the side that Flint was looking some how more sexy then usual if not a little scruffy, though Oliver would be lying to himself if he said he didn't find that attractive. He stuttered slightly frowning.

"W-Why? What is y-your g-game Flint? I don't f-figure that is r-really it-t." Flint smiled genuinely and shrugged.

"I don't blame you for being suspicious, but that doesn't make it any less true. I want you Oliver, I can't stop thinking about you and it's driving me crazy." Oliver was so shocked by Flint's honesty that he couldn't move, he didn't have to though. Flint took hold of his scarf and pulled him forward. "I want you, that's as blunt as it gets. What do you say, could you possibly want me back?" For some reason, even though he had never really thought about it he did want Flint. His subconscious finally talking to the conscious one and it seemed to reveal most of what he had wanted from day one. I guess the intrigue of Flint didn't really start 'til his third year, and as it happened he still had a soft spot for the Slytherin and past all their insults and arguments and rivalry on the field it seemed that off of it was a whole other tale that was unfolding itself right in front of him. He heard himself speak the words hardly audible.

"Yes, I want you. I want all of you." He leaned forward, until they were nose to nose. Marcus breathed a sigh of relief.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear you say that." He said then pulled Oliver into a kiss. As this kiss became more needy Marcus' long dust gray jacket began to bunch up at his neck as he slid down the wall slightly. Oliver moaned into Marcus' mouth and pushed his body firmly against Marcus' to keep him from falling. Finally they broke apart, both breathing hard and fast in need of air. Both men a little dizzy from this sudden event.

"Fuck..." Oliver said, that was certainly one of the most amazing kisses he had ever received. Marcus smiled.

"What a great idea." and before Oliver could protest Marcus lead them into the abandoned building where a full bedroom was lay out for the both of them. "A special occasion, requires planning." Oliver chuckled.

"Sneaky bastard..." He joked, "You set this up."

"Of course I did. I didn't randomly fold and clean your clothes for no reason." Oliver opened his mouth.

"That was you?" Marcus just nodded throwing Oliver backwards onto the bed.

"Enough chatter, I've been wanting to jump you ever since day one of third year. If I wait any longer I might exploded." Oliver lay back on the bed propping himself up on his elbows and smirking.

"Come and get it then, my naughty Slytherin."