Fic: Points (not) Taken
title: Points (not) Taken
fandom: Harry Potter
pairing: Percy/Marcus
rating: NC-17
length: 2048
summary: Percy catches Flint out after curfew.
notes: thanks to ladycat777 for letting me bounce this off her, and to floweringjudas for support.
Percy likes checking the halls at night. He gets to walk around with only the barest hint of night touching him, smugly satisfied that he has a right to be here, permission and authority both to sweep down long, echoing halls and ferret out any misbehaving students. He is the one in charge, here, and they will have to submit to his position as Head Boy. It's what students do, and Percy is fiercely proud of his place in the order of things.
He's known all his life that he is different from the others in his family, that he is destined for something beyond scraping by and just going along. He's a leader, and the authority he has now is just a pale shadow of what it will one day be.
He hears the student before he sees him. Percy holds himself taller and gets ready.
Percy recognizes the Slytherin boy at once. Marcus Flint is older and larger than Percy, and has always seemed quite mean. Percy could slink back into the shadows and pretend he doesn't see him at all -- that's probably what Flint is counting on -- but Percy is in control, Percy has the authority, and Flint is breaking the rules.
"Flint," Percy says. He hears the offended irritation in his own voice -- Flint was going to walk right past him without so much as a contrite expression -- and so he clears his throat before speaking again. He shouldn't take this personally. "Curfew was four hours ago."
Flint stops and looks at Percy. Not warily, the way he should, but with a sneer worthy of his Head of House. Percy briefly wonders if there are secret Slytherin lessons on nastiness that all the students must take.
"Bugger off, Weasley," Flint says, and then starts walking again.
"I will not!" Percy says when he stops gaping. Flint is nearly out of earshot by then and Percy has to nearly run to keep up.
"Go back to your precious little tower," Flint says, not looking at him.
"I won't!" Percy says. "You're out after curfew, and I'm sure you don't have an excuse from a professor ..." He trails off and gives Flint time to produce something, just in case Percy is wrong. He should follow the standard procedure, after all. When Flint just stops and stares at him, Percy nods and holds his wand up, ready to take points. "That will be ten points-- hey!"
Flint is faster than he looks, and has his hand gripping Percy's wrist before he can continue. "I don't think so, Weasley."
"You-- you can't stop me from taking points!" Percy says, aghast. "That's against the rules! That's another ten points, Interfering With Proper Discipline!"
Flint's expression slowly changes. He goes from sneering to smiling in just a few moments. The smile is just as nasty as the sneer, but somehow it looks even more evil. "And you've never broken a rule, little Weasley?"
Percy swallows hard and shakes his head. "I'm Head Boy!" he tries to say, but it comes out as a bit of a squeak when the grip on his wrist tightens.
"Never gone up to the Astronomy Tower with your little Ravenclaw girlfriend?" Flint says, ignoring the way Percy is trying to grab his hand back. "Slid your hand up her robes and into her knickers while you're 'studying' in the library?"
Percy feels his face go red. "Don't-- don't you dare talk about-- about Penelope that way!" he stammers. "She's a good girl!"
Flint looks surprised. "Don't tell me you haven't shagged her, unless ..." His eyes dance with cruel amusement. "Unless you really don't want to shag her."
"I'm not like that!" Percy protests, and juts his chin up higher.
Flint jerks his arm over to the side and takes a step closer. He's taller than Percy, though not by much, but he's a lot bigger, wider in the shoulders and chest. And this close, Percy has to look up at him a bit, even though he's standing as straight as he can. Percy's starting to sweat a little, and his spectacles slide down his nose.
"Maybe she's just too much of a good girl for you, Weasley," Flint says. He's so close that Percy can feel the heat of his breath on his face. "Maybe you want someone a little different, huh? Someone who's not quite as perfect."
"She's-- she's wonderful!" Percy says, although he doesn't sound very convincing.
"Or maybe it's because she's a girl." Flint smiles wider when Percy squeaks. "Is that it, Head Boy? Don't think I haven't seen the way you watch that wanker Wood."
How do you know so much about me? Percy wants to ask, but the words get caught in his throat. "No," he says instead.
Flint's grip slides from Percy's wrist to his hand. He grabs Percy's wand and stows it away in the pocket of his robes.
"Give it back," Percy says weakly.
"C'mere," Flint says, and then pushes him against a dark wall. Percy can feel the cold stone on his back through his robes. "Tell me what you think about when you watch Wood. What do you like about him?"
"I don't--"
"Don't like him? I thought he was your mate," Flint says. He puts his hands on the wall, blocking Percy in, but doesn't touch him. "You go to his games, don't you?"
Percy juts his chin again and tries not to look scared out of his wits. "I go to cheer for my House, that's all."
"You don't even like Quidditch, Weasley," Flint says. His eyes are knowing and bright in the dark.
"I do!" Percy protests. "My whole family--"
"Oh, do shut up, Percy," Flint drawls. "You're nothing like the rest of your family. I can't take you seriously if you're going to act like you are."
That gets Percy's attention like nothing else had. "I'm ... not," he admits. "But that doesn't mean--"
"Maybe you just like Quidditch players," Flint says slyly.
"I like-- I like girls!"
That makes Flint laugh, but for the first time Percy can remember, it doesn't quite sound as cruel as usual. "You're a little poof, Percy," he says knowingly. He tips his head down a little so that Percy can feel his breath on his neck. "It's so obvious I can almost smell it on you."
Percy starts to tremble, and he knows Flint can see it, as close as he is. "No," he says. The word is weak and sounds more like a 'yes' to Percy's ears.
"You don't have to lie to me, Percy," Flint says.
"Don't-- don't say my name like that," Percy says breathlessly. His whole body feels hot with shame and something else he doesn't want to think about.
"Percy," Flint says against his ear, and his breath is so hot that Percy makes a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan. "Do you like this?" And then one of his hands is running down the middle of his chest, slowly, so that Percy is arching into the touch and closing his eyes.
"I'm not--"
"You don't like this?" Flint says, amusement playing in his voice. He cups Percy's erection and presses just a little too hard, but just hard enough.
"Oh, Merlin," Percy whispers.
"You're just a dirty little shirt-lifter," Flint says softly, almost kindly, against Percy's ear, and rubs.
"No," Percy gasps.
"Yes. C'mon, Percy, admit it." Flint opens Percy's robes and then slides his hand down Percy's trousers. His hand is large and sweaty around Percy's cock. "You want this." Stroke. "You love this."
"Flint--" Percy whimpers.
"Marcus. I want to hear you call me by name when I make you come," Flint says in a voice that's almost purring. He tightens his grip on Percy's cock so that it's almost painful, but it's so good that Percy feels his whole body centered around where Flint's hand is wanking him. "Say it."
"Mar-- oh, fuck," Percy moans.
"What a dirty little mouth you have, Head Boy," Flint says, and when Percy opens his eyes to look at him, he sees that Flint is staring at him with something like greed. "Tell me you want me to make you come."
"Flint -- Marcus-- please!" Percy says, nearly sobbing now as Flint pumps his cock roughly.
"Merlin, you're sweet," Flint whispers, and then captures Percy's mouth with a hard, possessive kiss.
Percy can't help the way his hand are clutching at Flint's robes, because he needs to hold on to something because he might fall down at any moment. Flint's teeth grind against his lips so that there's the taste of copper in the kiss, but his tongue is almost gentle as it slides against Percy's.
"Fuck," Flint says against his mouth, and then he bites his way across Percy's jaw and down his neck, and then sucks hard where his shirt meets his skin. "Sweet everywhere."
The back of Percy's head bangs against the wall, but he barely even feels it, barely notices the way Flint is pulling at his tie and buttons one-handed. "Marcus, please, please," Percy gasps. His hands tighten and he tries to pull him closer. He's always wanted more than he has, and he wants more of this feeling, more of this fire that Flint is setting in his body. Even in his most secret fantasies, it was never this good, this consuming.
"Make you think of me, watch me," Flint-- Marcus says, and it doesn't make any sense, but Percy doesn't care because Marcus has one big, callused hand around his cock while the other is stroking the sensitive skin of his neck, and then he leans forward and just takes Percy's mouth again. His teeth and lips and tongue seem to be punishing Percy for something, and Marcus moans and presses his body closer so that he's rutting against Percy's hip.
"Yes, you," Percy gasps. "Marcus--"
And then there are sparkling lights behind his eyes as he squeezes them tight, and the blaze leaps even higher until there's nothing else left of Percy but a shuddering mess.
Marcus is breathing fast and hard against his neck when it's over, but he isn't moving anymore and Percy thinks maybe he came too. Percy wants to cry from embarrassment, and his throat feels tight.
Slowly, Marcus pulls his hand from Percy's trousers and takes out his wand. Percy holds his breath, but Marcus only whispers a cleaning spell, and then twice more, until Percy's pants don't feel so sticky-warm and wet. He tries to look anywhere else, but Marcus cups his face. Percy's so startled that he ends up staring in Marcus's eyes anyway. Marcus is smiling, though it isn't evil. It's much softer this time, and Percy doesn't understand, not at all.
"I'll probably be out after curfew again tomorrow night," Marcus says, but Percy can't reply because his swollen, sore lips are being kissed again. Only this time, the kiss is much more gentle, and it scares Percy more than anything rough.
"I can't--" Percy tries to say, and then yelps when Marcus bites his lower lip.
"Don't even try to pretend now, Percy," Marcus says against his mouth.
"It's ... against the rules," Percy says breathlessly.
Marcus moves his head and laughs lightly against Percy's cheek. "Better not get caught, then," he says. "They might take away your badge."
"I hate you," Percy says weakly.
"I can deal with that," Marcus says seriously. His eyes trail down Percy's body, and Percy wonders what he sees. He knows he's flushed and sweating, and that his shirt is rucked out of his trousers and open haphazardly at the top. Marcus touches his neck and runs a thumb lightly over a sore spot. "I can deal with that ... for now." Then he pulls out Percy's wand and places it in his hand. "Better get straightened up before you go back."
"I don't understand you," Percy murmurs.
"You will," Marcus says. Then he gently pushes Percy's glasses back up from the tip of his nose. "You'll get it eventually."
Then Marcus Flint walked away, further and further until he was swallowed up into the darkness, and Percy was left standing there alone in the empty corridor.
fandom: Harry Potter
pairing: Percy/Marcus
rating: NC-17
length: 2048
summary: Percy catches Flint out after curfew.
notes: thanks to ladycat777 for letting me bounce this off her, and to floweringjudas for support.
Percy likes checking the halls at night. He gets to walk around with only the barest hint of night touching him, smugly satisfied that he has a right to be here, permission and authority both to sweep down long, echoing halls and ferret out any misbehaving students. He is the one in charge, here, and they will have to submit to his position as Head Boy. It's what students do, and Percy is fiercely proud of his place in the order of things.
He's known all his life that he is different from the others in his family, that he is destined for something beyond scraping by and just going along. He's a leader, and the authority he has now is just a pale shadow of what it will one day be.
He hears the student before he sees him. Percy holds himself taller and gets ready.
Percy recognizes the Slytherin boy at once. Marcus Flint is older and larger than Percy, and has always seemed quite mean. Percy could slink back into the shadows and pretend he doesn't see him at all -- that's probably what Flint is counting on -- but Percy is in control, Percy has the authority, and Flint is breaking the rules.
"Flint," Percy says. He hears the offended irritation in his own voice -- Flint was going to walk right past him without so much as a contrite expression -- and so he clears his throat before speaking again. He shouldn't take this personally. "Curfew was four hours ago."
Flint stops and looks at Percy. Not warily, the way he should, but with a sneer worthy of his Head of House. Percy briefly wonders if there are secret Slytherin lessons on nastiness that all the students must take.
"Bugger off, Weasley," Flint says, and then starts walking again.
"I will not!" Percy says when he stops gaping. Flint is nearly out of earshot by then and Percy has to nearly run to keep up.
"Go back to your precious little tower," Flint says, not looking at him.
"I won't!" Percy says. "You're out after curfew, and I'm sure you don't have an excuse from a professor ..." He trails off and gives Flint time to produce something, just in case Percy is wrong. He should follow the standard procedure, after all. When Flint just stops and stares at him, Percy nods and holds his wand up, ready to take points. "That will be ten points-- hey!"
Flint is faster than he looks, and has his hand gripping Percy's wrist before he can continue. "I don't think so, Weasley."
"You-- you can't stop me from taking points!" Percy says, aghast. "That's against the rules! That's another ten points, Interfering With Proper Discipline!"
Flint's expression slowly changes. He goes from sneering to smiling in just a few moments. The smile is just as nasty as the sneer, but somehow it looks even more evil. "And you've never broken a rule, little Weasley?"
Percy swallows hard and shakes his head. "I'm Head Boy!" he tries to say, but it comes out as a bit of a squeak when the grip on his wrist tightens.
"Never gone up to the Astronomy Tower with your little Ravenclaw girlfriend?" Flint says, ignoring the way Percy is trying to grab his hand back. "Slid your hand up her robes and into her knickers while you're 'studying' in the library?"
Percy feels his face go red. "Don't-- don't you dare talk about-- about Penelope that way!" he stammers. "She's a good girl!"
Flint looks surprised. "Don't tell me you haven't shagged her, unless ..." His eyes dance with cruel amusement. "Unless you really don't want to shag her."
"I'm not like that!" Percy protests, and juts his chin up higher.
Flint jerks his arm over to the side and takes a step closer. He's taller than Percy, though not by much, but he's a lot bigger, wider in the shoulders and chest. And this close, Percy has to look up at him a bit, even though he's standing as straight as he can. Percy's starting to sweat a little, and his spectacles slide down his nose.
"Maybe she's just too much of a good girl for you, Weasley," Flint says. He's so close that Percy can feel the heat of his breath on his face. "Maybe you want someone a little different, huh? Someone who's not quite as perfect."
"She's-- she's wonderful!" Percy says, although he doesn't sound very convincing.
"Or maybe it's because she's a girl." Flint smiles wider when Percy squeaks. "Is that it, Head Boy? Don't think I haven't seen the way you watch that wanker Wood."
How do you know so much about me? Percy wants to ask, but the words get caught in his throat. "No," he says instead.
Flint's grip slides from Percy's wrist to his hand. He grabs Percy's wand and stows it away in the pocket of his robes.
"Give it back," Percy says weakly.
"C'mere," Flint says, and then pushes him against a dark wall. Percy can feel the cold stone on his back through his robes. "Tell me what you think about when you watch Wood. What do you like about him?"
"I don't--"
"Don't like him? I thought he was your mate," Flint says. He puts his hands on the wall, blocking Percy in, but doesn't touch him. "You go to his games, don't you?"
Percy juts his chin again and tries not to look scared out of his wits. "I go to cheer for my House, that's all."
"You don't even like Quidditch, Weasley," Flint says. His eyes are knowing and bright in the dark.
"I do!" Percy protests. "My whole family--"
"Oh, do shut up, Percy," Flint drawls. "You're nothing like the rest of your family. I can't take you seriously if you're going to act like you are."
That gets Percy's attention like nothing else had. "I'm ... not," he admits. "But that doesn't mean--"
"Maybe you just like Quidditch players," Flint says slyly.
"I like-- I like girls!"
That makes Flint laugh, but for the first time Percy can remember, it doesn't quite sound as cruel as usual. "You're a little poof, Percy," he says knowingly. He tips his head down a little so that Percy can feel his breath on his neck. "It's so obvious I can almost smell it on you."
Percy starts to tremble, and he knows Flint can see it, as close as he is. "No," he says. The word is weak and sounds more like a 'yes' to Percy's ears.
"You don't have to lie to me, Percy," Flint says.
"Don't-- don't say my name like that," Percy says breathlessly. His whole body feels hot with shame and something else he doesn't want to think about.
"Percy," Flint says against his ear, and his breath is so hot that Percy makes a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan. "Do you like this?" And then one of his hands is running down the middle of his chest, slowly, so that Percy is arching into the touch and closing his eyes.
"I'm not--"
"You don't like this?" Flint says, amusement playing in his voice. He cups Percy's erection and presses just a little too hard, but just hard enough.
"Oh, Merlin," Percy whispers.
"You're just a dirty little shirt-lifter," Flint says softly, almost kindly, against Percy's ear, and rubs.
"No," Percy gasps.
"Yes. C'mon, Percy, admit it." Flint opens Percy's robes and then slides his hand down Percy's trousers. His hand is large and sweaty around Percy's cock. "You want this." Stroke. "You love this."
"Flint--" Percy whimpers.
"Marcus. I want to hear you call me by name when I make you come," Flint says in a voice that's almost purring. He tightens his grip on Percy's cock so that it's almost painful, but it's so good that Percy feels his whole body centered around where Flint's hand is wanking him. "Say it."
"Mar-- oh, fuck," Percy moans.
"What a dirty little mouth you have, Head Boy," Flint says, and when Percy opens his eyes to look at him, he sees that Flint is staring at him with something like greed. "Tell me you want me to make you come."
"Flint -- Marcus-- please!" Percy says, nearly sobbing now as Flint pumps his cock roughly.
"Merlin, you're sweet," Flint whispers, and then captures Percy's mouth with a hard, possessive kiss.
Percy can't help the way his hand are clutching at Flint's robes, because he needs to hold on to something because he might fall down at any moment. Flint's teeth grind against his lips so that there's the taste of copper in the kiss, but his tongue is almost gentle as it slides against Percy's.
"Fuck," Flint says against his mouth, and then he bites his way across Percy's jaw and down his neck, and then sucks hard where his shirt meets his skin. "Sweet everywhere."
The back of Percy's head bangs against the wall, but he barely even feels it, barely notices the way Flint is pulling at his tie and buttons one-handed. "Marcus, please, please," Percy gasps. His hands tighten and he tries to pull him closer. He's always wanted more than he has, and he wants more of this feeling, more of this fire that Flint is setting in his body. Even in his most secret fantasies, it was never this good, this consuming.
"Make you think of me, watch me," Flint-- Marcus says, and it doesn't make any sense, but Percy doesn't care because Marcus has one big, callused hand around his cock while the other is stroking the sensitive skin of his neck, and then he leans forward and just takes Percy's mouth again. His teeth and lips and tongue seem to be punishing Percy for something, and Marcus moans and presses his body closer so that he's rutting against Percy's hip.
"Yes, you," Percy gasps. "Marcus--"
And then there are sparkling lights behind his eyes as he squeezes them tight, and the blaze leaps even higher until there's nothing else left of Percy but a shuddering mess.
Marcus is breathing fast and hard against his neck when it's over, but he isn't moving anymore and Percy thinks maybe he came too. Percy wants to cry from embarrassment, and his throat feels tight.
Slowly, Marcus pulls his hand from Percy's trousers and takes out his wand. Percy holds his breath, but Marcus only whispers a cleaning spell, and then twice more, until Percy's pants don't feel so sticky-warm and wet. He tries to look anywhere else, but Marcus cups his face. Percy's so startled that he ends up staring in Marcus's eyes anyway. Marcus is smiling, though it isn't evil. It's much softer this time, and Percy doesn't understand, not at all.
"I'll probably be out after curfew again tomorrow night," Marcus says, but Percy can't reply because his swollen, sore lips are being kissed again. Only this time, the kiss is much more gentle, and it scares Percy more than anything rough.
"I can't--" Percy tries to say, and then yelps when Marcus bites his lower lip.
"Don't even try to pretend now, Percy," Marcus says against his mouth.
"It's ... against the rules," Percy says breathlessly.
Marcus moves his head and laughs lightly against Percy's cheek. "Better not get caught, then," he says. "They might take away your badge."
"I hate you," Percy says weakly.
"I can deal with that," Marcus says seriously. His eyes trail down Percy's body, and Percy wonders what he sees. He knows he's flushed and sweating, and that his shirt is rucked out of his trousers and open haphazardly at the top. Marcus touches his neck and runs a thumb lightly over a sore spot. "I can deal with that ... for now." Then he pulls out Percy's wand and places it in his hand. "Better get straightened up before you go back."
"I don't understand you," Percy murmurs.
"You will," Marcus says. Then he gently pushes Percy's glasses back up from the tip of his nose. "You'll get it eventually."
Then Marcus Flint walked away, further and further until he was swallowed up into the darkness, and Percy was left standing there alone in the empty corridor.