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Marcus flew through the air with precision, eyes on a small glint darting around the pitch. He couldn’t tell whether it had been the rain or his own sweat that had soak his Quidditch robes, though he no longer cared. Narrowly avoiding a bludger sent his way, he dipped close to the grass. Hyperfocused, he didn’t notice until it was too late that he had been on a collision course with one of his own chasers. The game ended at some point, the snitch being grabbed right under his nose.
As the teams left the pitch for the showers, Marcus had stayed behind, running flight drills in the storm, punishing himself for the failure, for the near miss. That was one thing people didn’t seem to realize, Marcus Flint was a perfectionist who drove himself to the limits in everything he did, but especially in Quidditch, the one thing he shared in common with his family. Sports were huge in the Flint household; academics, not so much.
“Marcus, you should come on down.” The dark haired captain looked up to see a smiling face, red robes stained a darker crimson with rain, and wet sand colored hair plastered to freckles.
“I’m not done here yet.” The response was winded, indicative of how hard Marcus had been working himself.
“Yes, you are, love. You need to get out of these wet clothes, shower, and rest. Come on.” The rough hand of Oliver Wood reached out, an offer for solidarity, support, understanding.
“Fine,” he finally breathed. He didn’t realize how hard he had been shaking and shivering until the boys dismounted their brooms.
Marcus shed his emerald robes and silver pants and Oliver did the same with his gold and crimson uniform. Both boys stood under the hot water of the shower, allowing the heat and pressure to soothe sore muscles, and allowing the silence to blanket them. Marcus decided to take his time before getting out to face his team, and when he finally did leave the steamed air, he saw Oliver, who had finished before him, standing in front of him, Marcus’ favorite pyjamas in one hand and a food basket in the other.
“Get dressed. We are having a picnic.” The grin on Oliver’s face was slightly infectious, becoming mirrored on his partner’s face.
“It’s pouring outside,” he responded, stupidly.
“I never said it was an outdoor picnic,” he responded as he turned on his heel, stalking out of the shower room.
~*~
“What was all this for? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, I really do, but I didn’t do anything to earn this.” The brunette was staring down at his hands, a small blush creeping across his face.
“What do you mean? Of course you earned it. You are one of the hardest working players at this school, and balancing that on top of your grades, you work your perky arse off. You deserve to take a break, to be treated. Besides, I enjoy these dates, too.” Oliver had pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently to be able to look him in the eye, show him he meant every word. “No, why don’t we turn the radio on. Your favorite show should begin soon, if I’ve got the time right.”
And the two boys sat there, Marcus allowing himself to be held, the Room of Requirement providing them a radio, and just basked in each other’s presence. Marcus may have lost on the field that day, but he won in the end, because he had someone who truly cared, and that was more important.