#ginmiones

Oliver had once thought of himself as a kind soul. A friend, a hero were all grandiose thoughts, but the war had taken quick care of that. Sometimes Oliver frowns at the bitter shell of a man he is now. While he still looks out for his friends, he likes to fool himself into thinking that anyone else is not worth his time.

So, when he passes by a huddled form on the street, face barely visible, but just enough to be recognized, Oliver pauses with a moment’s hesitation. Kneeling down, Oliver can see that the man before him is hardly lucid, sickness wracking his entire body. He had heard Marcus had fallen into bad times, but this is beyond anything Oliver could imagine.

It’s times like these Oliver wonders what he stands for anymore and he settles in his decision.

Marcus doesn’t fight when Oliver takes him into his arms and Oliver apparates them back to his flat, instincts taking over.

For days, Oliver fusses over Marcus, waking him just long enough to get something substantial into him before Marcus falls back into fever-induced sleep. The worry takes control of Oliver and he finds himself sitting next to the bed whenever he’s not busy making food or preparing medicine. He watches Marcus’ sickly form and he shakes his head. Despite the years of fighting at school, seeing Marcus’ face on wanted posters, Oliver knows he’d only blame himself if Marcus died now.

A few friends catch wind of Oliver’s absence and drop in, only getting sparse details from him.

“It’s a friend from childhood,” or “Don’t worry about it,” are common phrases leaving Oliver’s mouth and his friends don’t look pleased. Some leave home remedies before they go, but all insist on answers by the time “the friend” has gotten back to full health.

Oliver nods, but he doesn’t know if or when he’ll ever tell them it’s Marcus Flint of all people that he’s nursing back to health.

By the seventh day, Marcus’ fever finally breaks and Oliver’s stomach flips when he sees the color come back to Marcus’ face. The shallow breathing turns deeper, almost as if Marcus is in meditation and Oliver feels brave enough to leave the flat for just a little bit. When he comes back, he can hear the shifting of blankets from the bedroom and he approaches slowly, hoping he’s in Marcus’ line of sight, if his eyes are even open.

Sitting next to the bed, Oliver waits for Marcus to make the first move, rubbing his palms against his jeans when he sees Marcus’ eyes open just a little.

“Where?” Marcus’ voice is cracked, almost nonexistent, and Oliver is quick to grab the glass of water on the bedside table.

“You should drink this first,” Oliver responds in a soft tone, helping Marcus lift his head up just enough to take a few sips.

When Marcus’ head is back on the pillow, he turns his face towards Oliver and his eyebrows scrunch up.

“You’re at my place,” Oliver starts with a small sigh. “You were sick and I-”

“-How long have I been out?”

“Over a week.”

Marcus mutters something to himself and he looks up at the ceiling. Oliver can practically feel the buzz of Marcus’ thoughts, but he waits, letting Marcus decide if he wants to know more or not.

“I’m tired,” is all Marcus says and Oliver nods his head.

“I almost thought I lost you a few days ago. I’m not sure how long it’ll be until you’re back to full health.”

Somehow, Marcus manages out a laugh. “Might not ever be. Parents were always sick.”

Oliver chews on his lip, unsure of where to go from here. He knows the worst of the sickness is over, but now, it’s just dealing with Marcus himself.

“Thanks.”

Oliver barely catches it, but before he has a chance to respond, Marcus is drifting off again. Sighing, Oliver gets to his feet, looking Marcus over one last time before he goes to the kitchen to prepare some food.

~

Marcus still fades in and out, but Oliver manages to get a few more words out of him. He’s thankful Marcus is taking everything as it comes, unquestioning of Oliver’s motives. Oliver’s not sure if he has any and he knows it’ll be brought up eventually.

“I need to take a shower,” Marcus says the day he’s able to sit up by himself. “God, when was the last time...and you let me sleep in your bed too.”

Oliver purses his lips together, a little amused at Marcus’ observance. He does have a guest bedroom after all, but he supposes with his own family pictures scattered all over the place, it would make sense that this room is his.

“Only the best for you,” spills out of Oliver’s mouth before he can stop himself.

His face flushes when Marcus stares at him and Oliver holds an arm out. “Well, let’s get you to the bathroom,” he clears his throat in hopes of defusing the situation.

Marcus can barely walk and Oliver can sense the frustration. Star player of the Magpies now this, Oliver knows he’d be just as angry if it were himself. Having Marcus lean against the sink, Oliver turns on the water and puts in the stop.

“What-?”

“You can barely stand, I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”

Marcus scoffs at this, but doesn’t protest as the tub fills with water. With a deep breath, Oliver turns around and places Marcus’ hands on his arms as he tugs at the hem of Marcus’ shirt.

“I can do it myself you know,” Marcus mumbles, his face focused on the ground.

“No, you can’t, otherwise you would’ve shoved me out of the bathroom by now,” Oliver is quick to respond and Marcus mutters a choice insult while letting Oliver take off his top.

Oliver says nothing, only giving Marcus a pointed look before thinking about the next step.

“Not like I’m trying to show off to you.”

It’s all the answer Oliver needs and he rids Marcus of the rest of his clothes, then guiding him into the tub.

“This is the worst,” Marcus mutters, pulling his knees up and dropping his head onto them.

Oliver sits down next to the tub with a washcloth, running it down Marcus’ back. He wants to say something encouraging, but Marcus looks to be in a mood that doesn’t want that.

“You going to try out for the Magpies again?” Oliver asks instead, washing Marcus’ arms and neck.

Marcus’ laughter is bitter, striking Oliver in the heart. “They don’t want someone like me.”

Oliver wishes he could scrub off the mark on Marcus’ arm, if only so people would stop seeing it as all that Marcus is. It’s true that Oliver has never seen a particularly good side of Marcus, but he thinks there must be something otherwise he might’ve abandoned Marcus long ago.

“Sentiments are changing,” Oliver starts. He wonders if him putting in a good word would help, but he knows Marcus would hate that kind of charity. “You were their star player at one time after all.”

Marcus uncurls and lays back in the tub, allowing Oliver to wash more of him. “Doesn’t mean a thing when you’ve got blood on your hands.”

Oliver’s moments still, the first night of being attacked taking over all his senses. His fingers squeeze the washcloth and the pain courses through his body. He is alone, bait fresh for the taking.

“Oliver?” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s enough to bring Oliver back, his breath shuddering when Marcus’ hand touches his own.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus ducks his head. “I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

Steadying himself, Oliver sits back and attempts to focus on the feeling of where he is now. There’s no forest surrounding him, no masks following, it’s just him and Marcus in the bare space of the bathroom.

The sloshing of water makes Oliver jerk his head up and his eyes feel hot when he sees Marcus staring at him.

“Not your fault,” Oliver manages as tears spill down his face.

Letting himself cry, Oliver gets back up towards the tub and guides Marcus to lay back, continuing the washing. He wipes at the tears, but they keep falling and Oliver tries to ignore the worried look on Marcus’ face.

“I’ll be okay. This happens sometimes,” Oliver tries to explain, breathing out when Marcus takes his hand again.

He glances at Marcus through his tear-filled eyes, his heart beating in his ears, and they stare at each other, the silence caving in around them.

All Oliver can focus on is the rise and fall of Marcus’ chest, but the searching eyes mean something more. Years of war and struggle have not been kind on either of them, yet they have been given chances time and time again.

For the first time in a while, Oliver thinks he understands and he believes Marcus does as well.

~

“Why have you kept me for so long?” Marcus asks one night when he and Oliver are eating dinner.

While Marcus is still too weak to walk on his own, dinners have been shifted to the kitchen and Marcus seems much happier to be in other places of the flat that the constraints of the bedroom and bathroom.

“You’re not fully healed yet,” Oliver says around his mouthful of food and toys around with the potatoes on his plate.

If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s Marcus’ stare. Anywhere, Oliver could tell when Marcus’ eyes were on him and now, to not have anything to hide behind, is agony.

“You could’ve just left me in the street or dropped me off at St. Mungo’s. Instead, I’ve been here for a month and you’ve taken care of me like I’m somebody important.”

“Maybe you are,” Oliver shrugs and stabs a piece of food before shoving it into his mouth.

He tries to ignore the huff from Marcus, focusing instead on the plate in front of him. Even now, he can’t come up for a decent reason as to why. Maybe age, maybe a change of heart, Oliver really doesn’t know. In fact, he’s gotten quite used to Marcus being around and finds his stomach turning at the thought of Marcus leaving.

“At any rate, thank you,” Marcus says with a sigh. “I would like to pay you back however.”

“None of that,” Oliver waves, a small smile on his face. “You’ve been an excellent roommate.”

If Oliver could scream now, he would, but instead he takes the chance to look at Marcus. There is the faintest hint of a not-frown on Marcus’ face and Oliver feels himself burn.

“Once I get a job, I’ll think of something.”

The wink that follows is unexpected and Oliver hastily shoves more food into his mouth in attempt to stop himself from saying something embarrassing. In a way, he wants to laugh at this, how he and Marcus are. Never did he think they would ever be more than rivals and now, Oliver hopes this will remain.

Marcus truly has been a wonderful companion. At first, Oliver thinks it’s because of how quiet Marcus was when he was sick. Yet even now, Marcus remains uncomplaining, grateful even, and Oliver knows it’ll still be awhile before he gets used to this.

It’s nice to have someone to talk quidditch plays to, someone who understands the sport for what it truly is. Oliver finds himself coming home early just to discuss a game with Marcus, the both of them seeming to perk up from such a conversation.

“Anything you want to share?” Marcus’ voice cuts into Oliver’s thoughts and he blushes.

“Just thinking about us-I mean, you, or, well-” Taking a long drink from his cup sounds like a good idea and Oliver does just that to stop his mouth.

When he’s done, his eyes flicker up to Marcus’ face, his body growing warm when Marcus is already looking at him.

“Me too,” Marcus breathes and the contents of Oliver’s cup spill all over the table.

~

Oliver and Marcus are ecstatic the day Marcus finally has enough strength to walk on his own. Oliver almost pulls Marcus into a hug, but stops himself for fear of knocking Marcus over. Instead, the two just smile at each other and Oliver’s heart thumps in his chest. Soon enough, Marcus leaves the flat by himself and Oliver waits to hear of any news in job searching.

“No luck,” Marcus sighs when he gets back to the flat one night.

His face is worn from the stress of the day and Oliver stays close by as Marcus sits down.

“They all wanted to see my arm and those that didn’t judged me because of my family name,” Marcus explains.

Oliver clenches his fists, wishing he could just tell everyone that Marcus, this Marcus, is different, but that’s not where he’s needed. He sits next to Marcus on the couch and folds his hands in his lap, thinking of something to say.

“This world won’t take me back,” Marcus whispers with the shake of his head. “It never really accepted me in the first place.”

Oliver thinks about the snide jokes he made about Marcus, his own teasing towards him and guilt twists his stomach. While it was all in retaliation to what Marcus did to him, Oliver wonders what could have been different.

“You’re a brave man, Marcus,” Oliver starts, his hands wringing together. “The fact that you haven’t given up, that you’re giving a second chance to this mess says more than you could imagine.”

The silence is expected and Oliver doesn’t need an answer. He only hopes Marcus takes his words as genuine, then do with them as he pleases.

“Thank you.” It’s quiet and Oliver’s sure if he wasn’t listening, he would’ve missed it completely.

He looks over at Marcus, his mind detailing over all of Marcus’ features as he stares out the window. Marcus’ hand is up at his face, chewing on his finger with worry and Oliver wishes he could do more.

It wasn’t easy for him either after the war was over, but he thinks he’s come out lucky after seeing so much of what Marcus has gone through. A small thought trickles into Oliver’s mind and he almost shakes it away.

As he mulls it over, watching Marcus’ silent figure, his plans for the next day turn over in that moment.

It’s finally time to do something about all of this.

~

“Please,” Oliver begs one final time and hopes his pitiful look is enough to convince his friends.

“Oh, fine,” George sighs, rolling his eyes.

“On one condition,” Fred points. “We get to test some products on him. Nothing harmless, just updates to our snackbox.”

At this, the twins have equally devilish smiles and Oliver’s stomach drops a little. “Can’t you just test them on me?”

“We wouldn’t dare,” Fred gasps and George puts a hand over his heart.

“Oh captain, my brave captain.”

“Sod off you two,” Oliver manages through his growing smile and shakes his head. He knows product testing and packaging are probably not Marcus’ ideal jobs, but it would be a job nonetheless.

Racing home, Oliver hopes he beats Marcus there first and he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the flat empty. He thinks ordering dinner might be a nice way to celebrate as he jumps into cleaning the flat. Marcus deserves a warm welcome home at the very least.

By the time Marcus arrives, Oliver is exhausted, but he manages to pull on a bright grin anyways, bounding over to Marcus.

“You look happy,” Marcus comments as he hangs his jacket up on the door hook.

“I am, I mean, I’m happy for you. That is-I should start over,” Oliver shakes his head. “I’ve found a job for you.”

Marcus’ stare is fierce and Oliver’s stomach drops. He steps back, his breath catching in his throat. He had hoped for a better reaction, yet he wonders why he expected anything else from Marcus.

“Really?”

Snapping his head back up, Oliver clenches his fists as Marcus gazes at him. It’s a soft, fleeting moment as they look into each other’s eyes and before Oliver can say anything, arms wrap around him in a crushing hug. Oliver chokes for air, his arms flailing at his side as the two almost fall off their feet.

“Oliver, thank you,” Marcus pulls back, his hands gripping onto Oliver’s shoulder. “How can I ever repay you? You’ve done so much, I-I need to do something.”

It takes Oliver a moment to catch up but when he does, he is quick to shake his head. “You don’t need to do anything, Marcus. I just want you to be okay.”

At this, tears begin streaming down Marcus’ face and Oliver panics.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Laughing through his tears, Marcus wipes them away with his sleeve, his worn face looking better than it has in months. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”

To see this, seeing Marcus happy, makes Oliver’s heart swell and before he can stop himself, he grabs Marcus by the face, their lips crashing together. He worries for a moment when Marcus doesn’t respond at first, but then eager lips move with his own and Oliver relaxes into the kiss.

When they finally break, Oliver looks away in nervousness but Marcus’ hand tugs him back.

“That was nice,” Marcus says, his tone hushed.

Oliver feels a chill run down his spine and he presses up against Marcus, their faces hovering just enough so he can feel Marcus’ breath on his face.

“You don’t mind then?” Oliver asks, rubbing his thumbs on Marcus’ cheeks.

Marcus shakes his head, leaning back in for a kiss but Oliver ducks his head, now remembering that he has to tell Marcus just where he’s got a job at.

“You’re going to be working for the Weasley twins,” Oliver blurts out and he sees how Marcus’ body tenses up.

The silence is unnerving and Oliver pulls away, cursing himself for not saying something sooner.

“They’re going to kill me,” Marcus whispers, his eyes wide and a frown on his face.

Despite all this, Oliver can tell Marcus isn’t truly upset by the situation and he chuckles. “I made them promise. If anything, they’ll just be testing on me.”

Taking a deep breath in, Marcus nods his head and his shoulders drop. “It’s better than anything I could’ve found,” Marcus smiles, tugging Oliver close to him. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means.”

“Then why don’t you show me?” Oliver immediately replies and the grin that Marcus gives him almost causes Oliver to collapse right then and there.

~

“Don’t laugh,” Marcus announces when he enters the flat and Oliver pops his head out of the kitchen.

Naturally, Oliver bursts out laughing, needing to hold onto the doorway for balance.

“Okay, okay,” Marcus sighs, attempting to wipe the soot on his face. “You’ve had your fun.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver manages out, pulling Marcus into a hug.

He kisses Marcus’ cheek, grimacing when an unpleasant taste works its way into his mouth. “What did they do to you?”

“It was my fault. Fred thought it was a great idea that I handle their latest exploding prank and-”

Oliver can’t help the laughter that bubbles up and he allows Marcus to leave his hold in favor of a shower.

“I still think you’re handsome,” Oliver calls after him, pleased when he gets a wave in return.

The smile is still plastered to his face as Oliver finishes up the rest of the cooking and he listens to Marcus move around the flat. He’s not sure what he and Marcus are, but he knows he enjoys Marcus’ company, let alone their shared time in the bedroom.

It’s not that Oliver wouldn’t mind more, but he wants to keep Marcus around as long as possible, no matter what that would mean.

“You’d think they’d have a better process for packaging,” Marcus comments as he enters the kitchen, now dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

Oliver admires the view as he dishes up the food, wondering if Marcus put the tight shirt on for a reason.

“I’m sure there’s some sort of regulation,” Oliver replies, but he knows the twins better than that.

Marcus seems to think so too and he scoffs, taking a long drink from his wine glass. They carry on the conversation over dinner with Marcus changing the subject a few times just to compliment the food.

“I’ve made this before,” Oliver hides his smile behind his hand.

“Yeah, but it’s always good,” Marcus responds before jumping back into working at the Weasleys’ store.

Oliver does his best to pay attention to the conversation, but his mind wanders. He can see that while Marcus is content with the job, he needs to be back on the pitch. Oliver can’t imagine his life without Quidditch, he’s amazed Marcus has lasted this long. While Puddlemere might not be Marcus’ ideal team, Oliver knows he can convince his manager and he waits until Marcus pauses to say anything.

“Would you want to play for Puddlemere?”

He pushes food around his plate as Marcus stares him down, wishing Marcus was more of a talker than a glarer.

“I don’t want you going out of your way-”

“-I wouldn’t be. I want you to play Quidditch. I know you miss it,” Oliver shakes his head. “If you don’t want me to put in a word for you, I won’t, but it’d be great to see you play again, Marcus.”

This time, Oliver is the one to stare Marcus down with just a little hesitation when Marcus squirms.

“Then let me do something for you,” Marcus’ voice is low. “I still haven’t thanked you for anything, I’ve just been leeching off of you like, well, just that.”

Hearing this, a conflict rises in Oliver. He knows how much he’s done to bring Marcus back, to make him the man he is now. There is no need for repayment though. He did this of his own accord because he wanted to. He never expected anything in return and at the very least, he’s glad they’re something beyond friends.

“You haven’t been leeching, you’ve been nothing but good and kind to me. I couldn’t ask anymore than that.” Oliver furrows his brows, the need to have Marcus believe him consuming every part of his body.

Marcus’ eyes dart around and Oliver watches, waiting for Marcus’ response.

“Then, are we more than just this, Oliver?” Oliver’s heart beats in his ears at Marcus’ words and he doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth. “Can I call you my boyfriend?”

The noise that comes out of Oliver’s mouth is a mix of a gasp and laugh which causes him to cough uncontrollably. In an instant, Marcus is over on Oliver’s side, slapping his back.

“I’m fine,” Oliver manages, taking a shaky sip from his glass. “Stop pounding me.”

“Never heard that one before,” Marcus mumbles and Oliver shoots him an unconvincing glare.

Once Oliver has fully recovered, Marcus lingers next to him, leaving Oliver no choice but to look up. He’s used to Marcus’ face, but in this moment, it’s as if someone has pushed away a fog. The gaze in Marcus’ eyes makes Oliver’s heart race and he slowly stands, hands reaching out.

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” Oliver nods, not caring how cheesy he sounds.

In this moment, all that matters are him and Marcus. He can only think of how fortunate he is, to have gained not only a friend, but a lover in Marcus. It amuses him to no end and Oliver grins as he captures Marcus’ mouth with his own.

~

The game against Montrose is brutal, but somehow Puddlemere manages to come out victorious. Oliver is in shock, standing in the pouring rain, his teammates cheering all around him. He can only smile at them, his usual rambunctious self lost to staring at a singular person.

“Flint! Are we lucky to have you!” One of Oliver’s teammate’s claps a hand down on Marcus’ shoulder.

Even if it was their seeker to thank for the end of the game, Marcus had kept the quaffle as far away from the Puddlemere goalposts, leaving Montrose with no choice but to chase after him.

Marcus blushes at this compliment, nodding his thanks as the team starts to pile off the field. Watching them go, Oliver waits for Marcus to leave as well until Marcus turns to stare right at him.

“I think we’re lucky to have you, honestly,” Marcus shrugs.

All it takes is two steps before they’re wrapped in each other’s embrace, the rain far from their thoughts.

“I’m lucky to have you,” Marcus whispers into Oliver’s ear, tightening his arms around Oliver’s body.

With heat pricking at the back of his eyes, Oliver ducks his head into Marcus’ shoulder. He grips onto Marcus’ robes as if he doesn’t believe where he is, almost worried he’ll wake up and have it all been a dream.

Had he been told a year ago what would happen, Oliver would’ve given a single cynical laugh. Now, there are only remnants of what he and Marcus used to be. It hasn’t been perfect, but Oliver feels as if he has complete control over his life. The love he has for Marcus is all his own and he wouldn’t take it back for any reason.

Oliver doesn’t notice how lost in his thoughts he is until Marcus tugs at his hand, the rain disappearing drop by drop. Letting himself be led, Oliver can only watch Marcus, feeling the warmth of his hand as they walk off the pitch together.