FIC: I'm Scared to Know (Marcus/Oliver)
Title: I'm scared to know
Character(s): Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Prompt: effect of impact on stationary objects
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,206
Summary: What did Marcus say that night in the rain and how will Oliver react?
Author's Notes: Not my boys... I only wish they were. For the other stories leading up to this one see my LJ!
The effect of impact on a stationary object is in direct proportion to how much sexual tension and denial there is between point A and point B and what catalyst is used. In this equation point A is equal to one Oliver Wood, where point B is to represent Marcus Flint and the catalyst is a bludger aimed specificly at Point A by Point B.
Oliver was going to kill whoever had the bright idea to scrimmage against Slytherin. He was fairly sure that Professor Snape was behind it, wanting his house to gain the upper hand on Gryffindor and take the house cup this year. Flint had of course taken this opportunity to remind Olive that nothing had changed because of their talk the other night and he thought a quick bludger hit to the leg would make him remember that for a while (who said a chaser can’t take the club from a beater?).
Harry caught the Snitch 40 minutes in and Oliver thanked Merlin that he came away with only a slight ache in his leg. He limped up to the shower cursing Flint under his breath. Oliver removed his sweat soaked robes to reveal the perfectly toned and tanned skin that lay underneath. He rubbed his hand up the back of his neck into his hair removing the drops of perspiration that had formed there. It was damn hot out this week and the locker rooms themselves were more in lines to a sauna. Oliver held the clean white towel around his waist with one hand while carrying his shower supplies with the other. He turned the water to cool and slipped under the spray relishing how much it reminded him of the rain from his previous encounter with Flint. Even with the cold water raking down his body he couldn’t control what the thought of Flint did to him. Those eyes, how his toned body looked under a fitted t-shirt, how Flint’s hand had felt wrapped around his own arm. Oliver had to close his mouth to stifle the moan that was starting to form in the back of his throat. His hand started to wander down his stomach when he thought better of it, too many people around to catch him. He finished his shower quickly and made his way back to his locker. He dressed in Gryffindor maroon and gold athletic shorts and a plain white t-shirt.
Seeing as he was captain it was his job to make sure all equipment was clean and put away properly (but everyone know he probably would have done this even if he wasn’t captain). As he made his way down to the broom shed beads of sweat were already beginning to form again on his forehead and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. The door to the shed was ajar and Oliver could feel the heat from inside seeping out. He pulled the door open with his foot and deposited the equipment he was carrying on the floor. He lifted the bottom of his shirt up to his face wiping away more sweat and exposing his well defined abs. It was only when he pulled his shirt back down that he became fully aware of Flint sitting on the bench in the middle of the room with his head hung into his hands.
“If you want to gloat why don’t you go somewhere else and do it,” Marcus’s head never left his hands when he spoke.
“Not gloating, just putting away Gryffindor’s equipment,” Oliver spoke softly as if not wanting to disturb and awake a monster.
Marcus sniffed before he pulled his hands away from his face and Oliver wondered if he had been crying, but knew better than to ask. Instead he went about returning everything he had carried in to its rightful place. It was while he was reaching to the top shelf that the ache in his leg returned. He bent his leg around so he could inspect it and saw the purple bruise that was beginning to form. He cursed at it idly and continued on with what he was doing.
Marcus looked over and saw the mark on Oliver’s leg. He didn’t want to hurt him, he just gets very competitive and frustrates easily. Maybe part of him was just trying to make things between them normal again, well as normal as they could be. Marcus stood and walked over to where Oliver was and started putting away Gryffindor’s things.
“You don’t have to do that you know,” Oliver chimed in.
“I know.”
And that’s how it went for almost ten minutes. The two of them working together, but never saying a word until there was only a few items left. They both reach for the quaffle at the same time and when their hands touched they both looked up and stared at the other intently before pulling their respective hands away.
“I think I got it from here thanks,” Oliver was the first to break the silence. It’s not that he wanted Marcus to leave; he just didn’t like the uncomfortable situation they were in.
Marcus walked back over to were he had been sitting, grabbed his bag and placed it on the bench.
“Don’t think it could get any hotter in here if it tried,” Marcus said as he pulled a clean shirt out of his bag. To Oliver if looked as if Marcus had yet to shower. His dark hair was sweat soaked and matted to his forehead and his shirt clung to his body as if permanently stuck there.
Marcus pealed the wet shirt off and used it to wipe off his face and neck before letting it drop to the floor. Oliver felt his mouth go dry as he stared at the other boy’s quidditch toned body. He had dark olive skin that shined with the sweat that still lingered there. Oliver finally broke his stare as Marcus pulled the gray shit over chest.
It was only when Oliver had put the final item away that he spoke again.
“Good scrimmage, guess I’ll um… I’ll see ya around Flint,” Oliver didn’t want to leave. He wanted to walk over to Flint and shake him and ask him if he understood what he was doing to him, if he knew how crazy he was driving Oliver without even trying. But he opted against it. Instead he headed to the door and stopped just as he pushed it open. He turned back around and faced Marcus.
“I heard what you said the other night, I don’t know if I was suppose to or not, but I did.”
Marcus met his gaze. He didn’t move or waiver, he just simply looked back at Oliver. They were so different yet so alike. He wondered if Oliver knew what he was thinking. Wondered if he knew how scared he was to find out exactly what was going on between the two of them.
“and?” was all that Marcus could manage to choke out.
Oliver walked over to him and with courage and determination he didn’t even know he had, wiped the sweat away from Marcus’ cheek and said, “I need you too.”
Character(s): Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Prompt: effect of impact on stationary objects
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,206
Summary: What did Marcus say that night in the rain and how will Oliver react?
Author's Notes: Not my boys... I only wish they were. For the other stories leading up to this one see my LJ!
The effect of impact on a stationary object is in direct proportion to how much sexual tension and denial there is between point A and point B and what catalyst is used. In this equation point A is equal to one Oliver Wood, where point B is to represent Marcus Flint and the catalyst is a bludger aimed specificly at Point A by Point B.
Oliver was going to kill whoever had the bright idea to scrimmage against Slytherin. He was fairly sure that Professor Snape was behind it, wanting his house to gain the upper hand on Gryffindor and take the house cup this year. Flint had of course taken this opportunity to remind Olive that nothing had changed because of their talk the other night and he thought a quick bludger hit to the leg would make him remember that for a while (who said a chaser can’t take the club from a beater?).
Harry caught the Snitch 40 minutes in and Oliver thanked Merlin that he came away with only a slight ache in his leg. He limped up to the shower cursing Flint under his breath. Oliver removed his sweat soaked robes to reveal the perfectly toned and tanned skin that lay underneath. He rubbed his hand up the back of his neck into his hair removing the drops of perspiration that had formed there. It was damn hot out this week and the locker rooms themselves were more in lines to a sauna. Oliver held the clean white towel around his waist with one hand while carrying his shower supplies with the other. He turned the water to cool and slipped under the spray relishing how much it reminded him of the rain from his previous encounter with Flint. Even with the cold water raking down his body he couldn’t control what the thought of Flint did to him. Those eyes, how his toned body looked under a fitted t-shirt, how Flint’s hand had felt wrapped around his own arm. Oliver had to close his mouth to stifle the moan that was starting to form in the back of his throat. His hand started to wander down his stomach when he thought better of it, too many people around to catch him. He finished his shower quickly and made his way back to his locker. He dressed in Gryffindor maroon and gold athletic shorts and a plain white t-shirt.
Seeing as he was captain it was his job to make sure all equipment was clean and put away properly (but everyone know he probably would have done this even if he wasn’t captain). As he made his way down to the broom shed beads of sweat were already beginning to form again on his forehead and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. The door to the shed was ajar and Oliver could feel the heat from inside seeping out. He pulled the door open with his foot and deposited the equipment he was carrying on the floor. He lifted the bottom of his shirt up to his face wiping away more sweat and exposing his well defined abs. It was only when he pulled his shirt back down that he became fully aware of Flint sitting on the bench in the middle of the room with his head hung into his hands.
“If you want to gloat why don’t you go somewhere else and do it,” Marcus’s head never left his hands when he spoke.
“Not gloating, just putting away Gryffindor’s equipment,” Oliver spoke softly as if not wanting to disturb and awake a monster.
Marcus sniffed before he pulled his hands away from his face and Oliver wondered if he had been crying, but knew better than to ask. Instead he went about returning everything he had carried in to its rightful place. It was while he was reaching to the top shelf that the ache in his leg returned. He bent his leg around so he could inspect it and saw the purple bruise that was beginning to form. He cursed at it idly and continued on with what he was doing.
Marcus looked over and saw the mark on Oliver’s leg. He didn’t want to hurt him, he just gets very competitive and frustrates easily. Maybe part of him was just trying to make things between them normal again, well as normal as they could be. Marcus stood and walked over to where Oliver was and started putting away Gryffindor’s things.
“You don’t have to do that you know,” Oliver chimed in.
“I know.”
And that’s how it went for almost ten minutes. The two of them working together, but never saying a word until there was only a few items left. They both reach for the quaffle at the same time and when their hands touched they both looked up and stared at the other intently before pulling their respective hands away.
“I think I got it from here thanks,” Oliver was the first to break the silence. It’s not that he wanted Marcus to leave; he just didn’t like the uncomfortable situation they were in.
Marcus walked back over to were he had been sitting, grabbed his bag and placed it on the bench.
“Don’t think it could get any hotter in here if it tried,” Marcus said as he pulled a clean shirt out of his bag. To Oliver if looked as if Marcus had yet to shower. His dark hair was sweat soaked and matted to his forehead and his shirt clung to his body as if permanently stuck there.
Marcus pealed the wet shirt off and used it to wipe off his face and neck before letting it drop to the floor. Oliver felt his mouth go dry as he stared at the other boy’s quidditch toned body. He had dark olive skin that shined with the sweat that still lingered there. Oliver finally broke his stare as Marcus pulled the gray shit over chest.
It was only when Oliver had put the final item away that he spoke again.
“Good scrimmage, guess I’ll um… I’ll see ya around Flint,” Oliver didn’t want to leave. He wanted to walk over to Flint and shake him and ask him if he understood what he was doing to him, if he knew how crazy he was driving Oliver without even trying. But he opted against it. Instead he headed to the door and stopped just as he pushed it open. He turned back around and faced Marcus.
“I heard what you said the other night, I don’t know if I was suppose to or not, but I did.”
Marcus met his gaze. He didn’t move or waiver, he just simply looked back at Oliver. They were so different yet so alike. He wondered if Oliver knew what he was thinking. Wondered if he knew how scared he was to find out exactly what was going on between the two of them.
“and?” was all that Marcus could manage to choke out.
Oliver walked over to him and with courage and determination he didn’t even know he had, wiped the sweat away from Marcus’ cheek and said, “I need you too.”