Pairing: Marcus/Percy.

Rating: R. Violence and sexual references.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Characters owned by J.K. Rowling.

Summary: Marcus and Percy, past, present, and future.

He's sure that if anyone notices the marks at all--and really, who'd bother to look?--Weasley comes up with an excuse. One that's logical, and plausible, and that no one believes.

He's also sure no one asks. They see Weasley going down into the dungeons, and the next day they see him with bruises, or walking a bit stiffly, or wincing when he moves just the wrong way, and they assume.

In a sense, they're right; Marcus makes no effort to be gentle with him.  He does exactly as he pleases, and it's only a convenient coincidence that it generally pleases Weasley as well. And Weasley does go back to the Gryffindor tower covered in bruises and bite-marks, long scratches down his back or across his chest, fingerprint marks standing out purple and black on the pale flesh of thighs and hips.

But Marcus knows--they both know--that he doesn't do any real damage. Nothing that even warrants a trip to Madam Pomfrey. And they both also know that he could, if he wanted to.  He just hasn't wanted to--at least, not yet.

So far, it's been enough to just fuck Weasley, to see the perfect, proper Head Boy come to Marcus Flint--the Slytherin even the other Slytherins are ashamed of knowing--because Marcus will do for him what none of the Gryffindors would, what his Ravenclaw girlfriend would be appalled to hear him asking for.

So far, it's been enough to make Weasley beg him:  to touch him, to fuck him, to let him come after Marcus finishes with him.  It's not the best sex Marcus has ever had, and he still despises Weasley and everything he stands for.  But it's entertaining.

It's even more entertaining when he looks up from time to time, in Potions class or in the Great Hall at mealtimes, and realizes that Weasley's been staring at him.

Maybe he won't ever end up putting Weasley in the hospital wing, after all. Maybe there'll be far more amusing games to play with him.

"You'll want to watch yourself, Flint," Weasley said, puffing out his skinny chest in case any of the Slytherins had failed to notice the prefect badge gleaming on his robes. "You wouldn't want to get in trouble for assaulting a school prefect."

Marcus shrugged.  He knew the boy was a Weasley--he had red hair and freckles, his school robes were worn thin at the collar and cuffs, and he was wearing a Gryffindor tie; what else could he be?--but the only Weasley whose name he'd ever bothered to learn was Charlie, and that was because a first-class Seeker was a first-class Seeker, even if he was also a complete prat. (The twins, he was aware of, both as Beaters and as annoyances, but if they had names other than "the Weasley twins," you couldn't have proved it by him.) This Weasley, he remembered seeing around from time to time--he thought that this might be the one who was friends with Wood.  He vaguely remembered kicking him around a time or two, but that could have been any of the Gryffindors, after all. 

And now he was a prefect. And obviously, a prefect who had no fucking clue that a badge was no protection against having his face smashed in.

"You'll want to watch yourself, Weasley," Marcus corrected him, moving faster than most people expected him to be able to, slamming Weasley against a wall and holding him there with one hand.

He'd planned to let Weasley imagine the worst for a few minutes, and then leave him with a couple of bruises, possibly some loose teeth or broken glasses. Just enough to remind him that Marcus Flint didn't care who the fuck you were, if you got in his way.

But Weasley looked up at him, an equal mixture of fear and haughty disdain in his eyes, and then Marcus noticed that there was something else glittering behind all of that. Realized that it wasn't terror that had quickened Weasley's breathing.

He leaned in, then, and, quietly enough that the others didn't hear, muttered, "Dungeons. Nine o'clock."

Weasley gave no sign that he'd heard, but Marcus was sure he'd be there, all the same.

He grinned. This might actually prove to be fun.  For him, at least, though he doubted Weasley would enjoy it as much.

He'll arrange to run into Weasley one of these days. It's been over a year since they left school, after all, and they haven't seen each other once.  It's still the off-season, and so he'll have plenty of time to kill in Diagon Alley, waiting to run into Weasley as though it's a sheer accident.

Weasley will consider pretending he hasn't seen Marcus, of course, but he'll stop in spite of himself.  And he'll try to be very formal, very distant, but in the end, he'll find himself making the suggestion that they go somewhere more private--wherever he's living, perhaps, or back to Marcus's flat.

Marcus will pretend to be eager; he'll suggest an alleyway.  He'll have one already picked out, right off Knockturn, just so that he can see the shame in Weasley's eyes when he doesn't refuse the offer.  And they'll go, and Weasley will be so fucking grateful that he doesn't have to be respectable and proper--not in front of Marcus, Marcus knows his dirty little secrets too well--that he'll forget how disgusted he is, and he'll let Marcus fuck him up against the damp, filthy wall.

He'll even forget, for a while, that good little Gryffindors don't enjoy things like that.

And when it's finished, and they're both straightening their clothing and preparing to go on about their business, he'll ask Marcus how he can get in touch with him, and that will be the moment Marcus will have been waiting for since he was sixteen. That'll be what he's been carefully leading Weasley toward.

"You can't," he'll say, in his most casual drawl. 

Weasley will protest, of course, and Marcus will only grin.  "Think I want you getting in my way? Face it, Weasley, you're not that good.  I fucked you today because it was a better way to kill a few minutes than sitting around the Leaky Cauldron." Then he'll pause, and his grin will be even broader when he adds, "Well. Not that much better."

He'll wait for that to sink in, and then he'll continue, explaining at great length that he doesn't want Weasley, could never want someone so boring, so pompous; probably pointing out somewhere along the line that Weasley is possibly the worst fuck in the history of sex.

And when Weasley turns away to hide the hurt look on his face, that will be when Marcus knows he's won.