Author's Notes: So when I was fiddling around on livejournal one day, I came across a community called 7spells, which is a fanfiction challenge where you write seven fics about a pairing (romantic or otherwise) using a variety of prompts. Because of my love for Marcus and Oliver, I decided to do this challenge with them, and I thought I would post the stories here, as well. As stated in the summary, the stories are not necessarily related to one another. The prompt that I used for each story is the name of each chapter.
I don't own any of these characters--they're all JK Rowling's fabulous creations. In any case, please let me know what you think of these. :)
It kind of stunk. Not all that bad, no, but it stunk.
Marcus was the type of person who was able to awaken but not open his eyes. The smell that invaded his nose was, of course, the salty scent of the sea. For a brief moment he didn't know where he was; he recollected his memories just a bit afterward. They were at a resort.
Reaching up he lazily rubbed at his eyes, rolling over onto his back. How he always ended up on his stomach, he didn't know; it was somewhat irritating. He half-expected to bump into Oliver when he moved. It appeared, however, that the other wasn't there.
He opened his eyes, not fighting the yawn that wished to escape him. It took his eyes a moment to focus. That damn odor was still in his nose. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure standing on the balcony of their room. Short, somewhat stocky, semi-long, light brown hair being blown about by the warm island winds.
A small groan escaped Marcus as he pushed the covers back, slipping out of the bed. His large feet padded across the lushly carpeted room and he led himself toward the balcony. He managed to catch Oliver off guard, it would seem, because the smaller one jumped just slightly when the long, pale arms wrapped around his lithe waist.
Marcus nuzzled his lover's hair, trying to ignore the salty smell clinging to the blonde locks. He always reveled in the fact that Oliver fit perfectly into his arms—like they were meant to be together. It just felt right. He didn't know how he had lived without this feeling in the past. Rivalry be damned, really. Oliver going to play for Puddlemere and Marcus going to play for the Falcons had seemingly given them that open space they needed in order to finally admit to both themselves and one another that something was there. Granted, they still had to play against each other every now and then, but that was of little importance. In all truth they didn't quite know how things had worked out the way they did, but neither was about to change it.
"Morning, love," he whispered into Oliver's ear as his fingers tapped leisurely upon the other's stomach.
"Morning, Marcus," Oliver replied cheerfully, sighing contentedly afterward. "Isn't it a beautiful day? I'm going to go swimming later. Do you want to come with me?"
"Mm, works for me."
"Excellent." Before he pulled himself out of Marcus' grasp Oliver gave him a good morning kiss.
As Oliver made his way back into the room Marcus' eyes followed him. A somewhat amused look appeared on his face. The faint bounce in the younger one's step was enough to remind him exactly why he was putting up with that irksome smell bombarding his nose.
Oliver sure did love the sea.