Fic: Life After This (Marcus/Oliver)
Title: Life After This
Character(s): Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Prompt: The Cruelest Month
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,296
Summary: What does life bring after school for the boys?
Author's Notes: This is my last of the seven stories! Not my boys... I only wish they were. For the other stories leading up to this one see my LJ! (7/7)!
“Shit,” Marcus cursed as he breathed in the cool morning air. Even in September the mornings were crisp until the sun came up. It was perfect flying weather: a bit chilly, quiet and no wind. Marcus smirked as he flung his broom over his shoulder and walked to towards the pitch. He had signed with the Falmouth Falcons right after gradating from Hogwarts, he liked their ruff and tumble style and felt at home in the air with them. He relished in being the first on the pitch in the morning, even if it was a game day,… train harder, faster, longer… it was the only way to get ahead. Being alone also gave him time to clear his mind and prepare for the grueling day he was sure to face. He zoomed around feeling another stress fall off of his shoulder with each additional pass: failing his N.E.W.T.S., losing the house cup to Gryffindor, fear of not making a team, family, friends, expectations, disappointments…Oliver.
He shook his head trying to dislodge the image of the Puddlemere keeper from his head. It had been months since they last talked in the courtyard at school, but Marcus thought of him often. It just was not the same without Oliver. Every keeper he faced, every game he played, every practice he had… nothing had the same intensity as playing against him.
Times change and people grow and Marucs got used to not talking to or seeing Oliver everyday. Actually, the first month away from school was quite an easy transition for Marcus, there was so much to do, so many people to meet and so many things to do, see and learn. It was the second month away that was the hardest month. It was the time when routine set in he had time to let his mind wander. He would think about the times he and Oliver spent out on the pitch devising new and sometimes dangerous plays and then act them out on each other. He thought of the nights they secretly met and spent all night talking about their fears of what was to come. His mind flashed back…
Marcus was walking out to his last game against Hufflepuff when he spotted Oliver. He grabbed the other boy by the waist and spun him around into a kiss.
“Wish me luck,” Marcus managed to squeak out in-between heated kisses.
“You don’t need luck,” Oliver kissed him again. “You are just that good.”
Marcus laughed to himself at the memory of it all. Oliver Wood, the one that was supposed to hate him gave him more encouragement than anyone else in his life.
He shook his head again, desperate to get the memory out. He never claimed he was good at making rash decisions, rather he thought of what was best for him at that moment. Oliver had been a rash decision in every aspect of the word… or so he convinced himself he had been. Every game Marcus played at Hogwarts was just warm up for Gryffindor and every practice he had was to prepare for Oliver. He let himself believe this was just healthy competition rather than anything else.
He touched down and headed back towards the locker room. He knew he had a tough game ahead of him, the Montrose Magpies were no laughing matter… they held the best league record ever after all. Marcus had not earned the right to start yet, but seeing as one of their chasers was hurt he was their best option and he was nervous as hell about it. Of course he would never let on about his nerves, better to keep those kinds of things inside, especially around a team like Falmouth.
The game went as expected, Falmouth playing rough and fast and the Magpies using their years of honed teamwork and skill to their advantage. In the end the Magpies overtook the Falcons 220-340 and Marcus was livid. He banged his fist against the green steel locker and then leaned forward and rested his head against the cool metal. Was he an idiot for thinking he could hack it with the pros? He cursed himself again and opened the locker. A small piece of paper lying on the top shelf caught his attention. He pulled off one of his quidditch gloves and opened it.
You did well. Don’t beat yourself up over it.
~O
Marcus looked around. Was someone playing a joke on him? He looked back down at the letter. Nope, it definitely was signed “O” and there was only one “O” he knew. Marcus showered and dressed quickly, he shoved the note into his back pocked and left the locker room. It was dark out by this time and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. He scanned his surroundings and found a fair-haired boy leaning against a tree not far from where he stood. Marcus took a deep breath and walked over to him.
“Wood,” he asked, questioning.
“Flint,” Oliver looked off to the side, not making eye contact.
“What the hell are you doing here…” Marcus let his voice trail off. “I mean, why are you here?”
Oliver laughed. “Never good with words were you Flint?”
Marcus rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, “Ya, guess not. So, um… how have ya been?”
“Good,” Oliver paused and then looked away. “I’m playing for Pu-”
“I know,” Marcus stepped forward and closed the gap between them. “They are bloody lucky to have you… anyone would be.”
“What was that?” Oliver’s faced changed from shock to confusion.
“I said… I said anyone would be bloody lucky to have you alright?” Marcus looked right into Oliver’s eyes as he spoke as if searching for the soul that lay behind them. “Anyone would be lucky to have you and I’m and idiot for not seeing that sooner.”
Oliver shifted his weight from side to side, unsure of what move to make next. “I didn’t come here for an apology Flint I-”
“Then why did you come here?”
“I don’t know… because I am a bloody fool?” Oliver was moving his hands about showing his frustration with the situation.
“Maybe,” Marcus laughed and gave Oliver a playful shove.
“Oh, you want to play that game do ya?” Oliver reached over and quickly took a hold of Marcus’ arm and twisted it behind his back.
“Merlin Oli, I get it alright.”
“What was that? I don’t think I heard you. Did you say I was the best keeper that ever was and you could never score on me?”
Seeing as Marcus was a bit bigger that Oliver it took no effort to wrench his arm free and pin Oliver back against the tree. Marcus leaned in so his face was only inches away from the other boys. “Well, I wouldn’t say that I couldn’t score on you…”
Oliver blushed and turned his head away. Marcus released his grip on Oliver and moved back a few feet. “Look the facts are… I said a lot of things that I didn’t mean to and I understand if you won’t forgive me, but if you will…. If you will give me another chance… I will wait, for however long it takes, if it brings you back to me.”
Oliver looked back at Marcus and then away again as if contemplating something very important. “Well I’m here aren’t I?”
Marcus walked over to him, took Oliver’s hand in his and pushed it to his chest right where his heart was. “No, you’re here.” And with that Marcus kissed him, never moving Oliver’s hand from his chest because it was nice to have him there again, back in Marcus’ heart where he belonged.
Character(s): Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Prompt: The Cruelest Month
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,296
Summary: What does life bring after school for the boys?
Author's Notes: This is my last of the seven stories! Not my boys... I only wish they were. For the other stories leading up to this one see my LJ! (7/7)!
“Shit,” Marcus cursed as he breathed in the cool morning air. Even in September the mornings were crisp until the sun came up. It was perfect flying weather: a bit chilly, quiet and no wind. Marcus smirked as he flung his broom over his shoulder and walked to towards the pitch. He had signed with the Falmouth Falcons right after gradating from Hogwarts, he liked their ruff and tumble style and felt at home in the air with them. He relished in being the first on the pitch in the morning, even if it was a game day,… train harder, faster, longer… it was the only way to get ahead. Being alone also gave him time to clear his mind and prepare for the grueling day he was sure to face. He zoomed around feeling another stress fall off of his shoulder with each additional pass: failing his N.E.W.T.S., losing the house cup to Gryffindor, fear of not making a team, family, friends, expectations, disappointments…Oliver.
He shook his head trying to dislodge the image of the Puddlemere keeper from his head. It had been months since they last talked in the courtyard at school, but Marcus thought of him often. It just was not the same without Oliver. Every keeper he faced, every game he played, every practice he had… nothing had the same intensity as playing against him.
Times change and people grow and Marucs got used to not talking to or seeing Oliver everyday. Actually, the first month away from school was quite an easy transition for Marcus, there was so much to do, so many people to meet and so many things to do, see and learn. It was the second month away that was the hardest month. It was the time when routine set in he had time to let his mind wander. He would think about the times he and Oliver spent out on the pitch devising new and sometimes dangerous plays and then act them out on each other. He thought of the nights they secretly met and spent all night talking about their fears of what was to come. His mind flashed back…
Marcus was walking out to his last game against Hufflepuff when he spotted Oliver. He grabbed the other boy by the waist and spun him around into a kiss.
“Wish me luck,” Marcus managed to squeak out in-between heated kisses.
“You don’t need luck,” Oliver kissed him again. “You are just that good.”
Marcus laughed to himself at the memory of it all. Oliver Wood, the one that was supposed to hate him gave him more encouragement than anyone else in his life.
He shook his head again, desperate to get the memory out. He never claimed he was good at making rash decisions, rather he thought of what was best for him at that moment. Oliver had been a rash decision in every aspect of the word… or so he convinced himself he had been. Every game Marcus played at Hogwarts was just warm up for Gryffindor and every practice he had was to prepare for Oliver. He let himself believe this was just healthy competition rather than anything else.
He touched down and headed back towards the locker room. He knew he had a tough game ahead of him, the Montrose Magpies were no laughing matter… they held the best league record ever after all. Marcus had not earned the right to start yet, but seeing as one of their chasers was hurt he was their best option and he was nervous as hell about it. Of course he would never let on about his nerves, better to keep those kinds of things inside, especially around a team like Falmouth.
The game went as expected, Falmouth playing rough and fast and the Magpies using their years of honed teamwork and skill to their advantage. In the end the Magpies overtook the Falcons 220-340 and Marcus was livid. He banged his fist against the green steel locker and then leaned forward and rested his head against the cool metal. Was he an idiot for thinking he could hack it with the pros? He cursed himself again and opened the locker. A small piece of paper lying on the top shelf caught his attention. He pulled off one of his quidditch gloves and opened it.
You did well. Don’t beat yourself up over it.
~O
Marcus looked around. Was someone playing a joke on him? He looked back down at the letter. Nope, it definitely was signed “O” and there was only one “O” he knew. Marcus showered and dressed quickly, he shoved the note into his back pocked and left the locker room. It was dark out by this time and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. He scanned his surroundings and found a fair-haired boy leaning against a tree not far from where he stood. Marcus took a deep breath and walked over to him.
“Wood,” he asked, questioning.
“Flint,” Oliver looked off to the side, not making eye contact.
“What the hell are you doing here…” Marcus let his voice trail off. “I mean, why are you here?”
Oliver laughed. “Never good with words were you Flint?”
Marcus rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, “Ya, guess not. So, um… how have ya been?”
“Good,” Oliver paused and then looked away. “I’m playing for Pu-”
“I know,” Marcus stepped forward and closed the gap between them. “They are bloody lucky to have you… anyone would be.”
“What was that?” Oliver’s faced changed from shock to confusion.
“I said… I said anyone would be bloody lucky to have you alright?” Marcus looked right into Oliver’s eyes as he spoke as if searching for the soul that lay behind them. “Anyone would be lucky to have you and I’m and idiot for not seeing that sooner.”
Oliver shifted his weight from side to side, unsure of what move to make next. “I didn’t come here for an apology Flint I-”
“Then why did you come here?”
“I don’t know… because I am a bloody fool?” Oliver was moving his hands about showing his frustration with the situation.
“Maybe,” Marcus laughed and gave Oliver a playful shove.
“Oh, you want to play that game do ya?” Oliver reached over and quickly took a hold of Marcus’ arm and twisted it behind his back.
“Merlin Oli, I get it alright.”
“What was that? I don’t think I heard you. Did you say I was the best keeper that ever was and you could never score on me?”
Seeing as Marcus was a bit bigger that Oliver it took no effort to wrench his arm free and pin Oliver back against the tree. Marcus leaned in so his face was only inches away from the other boys. “Well, I wouldn’t say that I couldn’t score on you…”
Oliver blushed and turned his head away. Marcus released his grip on Oliver and moved back a few feet. “Look the facts are… I said a lot of things that I didn’t mean to and I understand if you won’t forgive me, but if you will…. If you will give me another chance… I will wait, for however long it takes, if it brings you back to me.”
Oliver looked back at Marcus and then away again as if contemplating something very important. “Well I’m here aren’t I?”
Marcus walked over to him, took Oliver’s hand in his and pushed it to his chest right where his heart was. “No, you’re here.” And with that Marcus kissed him, never moving Oliver’s hand from his chest because it was nice to have him there again, back in Marcus’ heart where he belonged.