best kept secrets
pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood
word count: 866
a/n: sorry for the lack of flower crowns // part 2 (x)
Marcus Flint is leaning up by the metal chainlink fence - gum popping, grin flashing white, and Oliver has the urge to run away because everything in the taller boy’s stature screams trouble, trouble, trouble.
“Fancy seeing you here, Wood. Didn’t take you as one to skip class.”
“I’m not.” Is Oliver’s automatic response. And he isn’t - yellow slip clutched tightly in his fist tells any wandering administrators that one of the teachers had sent him on an errand. He’d thought it’d be fine to take a shortcut, a little time in the sun instead of holed up in the academy, but his steps have led him unwittingly to the apparent hangout of Riverbrook Sacred Heart Academy’s resident delinquent.
Flint snorts, jaw still chomping vigorously. “Sports scholarship really keeping you in line, huh? Too straight-laced to even skip a lecture. Boring.”
Grey eyes scan him over, once, twice - Oliver fights off the color spreading across his body, attributes his sweaty palms to the spring heat, and the stiff collar of his uniform.
“What about you, Flint?”
Flint narrows his gaze, chin lifted. “What about me?”
“Playing bad boy but not a contraband in sight. Who are you fooling?” Oliver drawls, and he knows that he’s playing with something unstable right now, but life has been mundane, and he’s always been one for skirting danger.
Instead of lashing out, as Oliver expects, Marcus’ grin spreads, molasses-slow, and he straightens up, broad shoulders casting shadows on the hot pavement. Each step of his shoes - regulation style, but with sleek Italian soles and leather crafted more with money than skill - echoes as he moves forward to meet Oliver, eye to eye.
“Bad boy?” Flint’s voice is soft, almost playful. “So good little Catholic school boy Oliver Wood has a thing for bad boy’s huh?”