pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood
setting: modern, non-magical, college vampire au
word count: 3,131
written for: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @bunimalsfiberdolls !!!!!!!
Marcus wakes up thirsty.
He blinks, scrubbing at the corners of his eyes. There’s a suspiciously crusty stain on the inside of his bedspread; it isn’t white, but it’s not not white, either. He doesn’t know which pledge had laundry duty last week, but he thinks it was probably Goyle. Goyle always forgets to add detergent. Possibly, Goyle isn’t actually aware he’s supposed to add detergent.
Marcus rolls over. His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, and his throat feels dry and rough and a little like he might’ve accidentally gargled paint thinner. A strange burning sensation is piercing his gut; if he concentrates, he can almost trace it back to a gently pulsating spot between his tonsils.
Swallowing hurts a lot.
He vows not to try that again, and then idly wonders if he’s getting sick. That would suck. Hooch is picking captains at the end of the week, and Marcus would really enjoy stripping that fuzzy felt “C” off Wood’s jersey. Especially now. Especially after three months of silence and stupid passive aggressive Snap stories featuring way too many fishing boats. And lakes. And sad, ugly, shirtless Canadian bros who definitely didn’t need to, like, molest Wood so thoroughly.
Marcus’s stomach rumbles.
He instinctively swipes at his teeth with the tip of his tongue.