Tweak

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Tweak says, "I'm personality number 7"

dh_marcus (dh_marcus) wrote in darkesthour_rpg,
@ 2008-04-19 16:59:00

Entry tags:

april 2008, harry potter, marcus flint, npc

RP: Shouldn't Little Boys Be In Bed At This Hour?
Date and Time: April 19/20, 2008 - around 4 a.m.
Characters: Marcus Flint, Harry Potter, Gerald (NPC)
Location: Flint Manor, England
Private/Public: Private
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, sexual situations and description
Summary: Marcus receives an unexpected(?) visitor at an unusual hour
Completion: INComplete

Gerald was convinced that the old didn't need much more than a couple of hours of sleep. It was all he could manage every night - usually staying up late and rising before the sun even did to tend to the matters of Flint Manor. Master Flint was almost the same way, though thirty-five years younger than Gerald. Gerald supposed if he had Master Flint's energy and social duties, he wouldn't bother with sleep at that age either. The gods would grant enough rest when their bodies could no longer sustain the demands of life.

So when a forceful knocking on the large door to Flint Manor's entrance echoed over the marble floors and into the kitchen where Gerald was enjoying a cup of tea and a cross-word puzzle, Gerald was ready to answer. He assumed it could not be Miss Greengrass, for she had not been around for a few months now. Gerald missed the vibrant woman's presence, though he did not let Master Flint know that.

No, it was a fresh faced young man with unbelievably coloured eyes and a head of messy black hair that Gerald saw through the small look-out. Curious, Gerald pressed the intercom that allowed his voice to greet the young man outside.

"Yes?"

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dh_marcus
2008-04-21 11:01 pm UTC (link)

Chuckling, listening to Harry's bewildered voice coming from the muggle intercom, Marcus decided to throw the Gryffindor a bone.

"I am awake but the biggest question is what the fuck are you doing here at my house?" Marcus pretended to sound pissed off, but couldn't hide the amusement completely from his voice.

He winked at Gerald then, after a perfectly wicked idea went through his head.

"Now, you might say you're Harry Potter but...I don't know. A wizard like me has many enemies," Marcus told the green-eyed wizard on the other side of the door. "So if I asked you something that only myself and Harry Potter would know, you would be able to answer wouldn't you?"

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dh__harry
2008-04-21 11:11 pm UTC (link)

Oh, thank Merlin. Hope jumped up into Harry's throat and the American Muggle expression 'booty call' jump to his mind. He couldn't help but allow a tiny grin as he turned back towards the intercom.

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing here?" He challenged back, raising an eyebrow. He rolled his eye at the suspicious tone. "This is payback, isn't it? Fine...yes, I'll be able to answer. Ask away, then."

Git. This was definitely payback for leaving Marcus high and dry the other night.

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dh_marcus
2008-04-21 11:22 pm UTC (link)

"Well it isn't so much as a question as it is...rather a confirmation," Marcus told Harry through his grin. Gotcha

Gerald had since left to the kitchens as no doubt Master Flint and his late night friend would be either hungry now, or will be in the near future. But, Marcus didn't let Harry know that.

"So, tell me - and my butler here since he's just gagging to know - what exactly happened during our last meeting?" Marcus asked then waited patiently for Harry to answer. Through the look out on the door, Marcus could watch Harry's facial expressions which did not disappoint.

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dh__harry
2008-04-21 11:26 pm UTC (link)

Harry heard the satisfaction in Marcus' voice and glared at the camera. Damn it all, he'd just given it all up.

"You're enjoying this far too much," He commented, rolling his eyes at the question. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and he shifted his weight from one foot to another, trying to think of ways he could get out of this without the nosy butler finding out exactly what had happened. "Well, I kicked a barstool and nearly fell on my bum...and you had, what was it, two shots of firewhiskey? And you left nonetoohappy." He offered a hopeful grin, though he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that.

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dh_marcus
2008-04-21 11:33 pm UTC (link)

"Enjoying what? I'm just validating facts so I'm not willing allowing some wizard with a vengeance waltz through my door," Marcus told Harry with an innocent voice.

Watching Harry shift back and forth on his feet, Marcus chuckled under his breath. Potter really was quite adorable when put on the spot. His answer, however, didn't quite meet Marcus' requirement of opening the door.

"Huh. Well, that's true...oh but Gerald wants to know why I was left 'nonetoohappy' as you so put it. He's rather protective of me, you know," Marcus told Harry.

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dh__harry
2008-04-21 11:37 pm UTC (link)

Harry sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair and then along the back of his neck. Well, he tried.

"We snogged, okay? And it was bloody fantastic, just so Gerald knows." He finally said, colour burning his entire face as he glared into the camera lense defiantly, green eyes blazing. "You left with a pole in your trousers because I refused to shag you pissed." He resisted the urge to stomp his foot like a child as he pursed his lips, glaring darkly at the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He almost wished it wouldn't open, for fear of seeing the look of satisfaction on the Slytherin's face.

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dh_marcus
2008-04-21 11:45 pm UTC (link)

The doors to Flint Manor were double slabs of a heavily ornate mahogany. Marcus opened the one after hearing Harry's rendition of events and smirked down at the Gryffindor, like a cat that got a full bowl of milk.

Leaning against the door that was still closed, Marcus looked Harry up and down. "Congratulations, Potter. You said the magic words."

He reached out and grabbed the front of Harry's robes in one hand and tugged the other man through the threshold. "Now that wasn't so bad was it?" Marcus drawled as he let Harry get readjusted when the door closed.

"By the way - Gerald didn't hear a lick of those recounting of events. Why darling, you're all flushed. I didn't mean to embarrass you," he tried to tell Harry but couldn't finish since his mouth widened in a smile. "Actually, that would be a lie. But you knew that didn't you?"

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dh__harry
2008-04-21 11:51 pm UTC (link)

Harry felt his blush deepen as the one door was opened. Sure enough, there was Marcus with a satisfied grin on his face. Harry wanted to smack it, or kiss it, away. He did neither, as he was pulled bodily by the front of his sheer jumper, into the manor.

"Oh no, I rather enjoy being embarrassed in front of strangers," He quipped back with a roll of his eyes. His eyes widened at the admission of Gerald not hearing any of it, his hands turning to fists. He pummeled them against Marcus' chest a few times. "Git!"

Finally he stepped away, his expression somewhere between anger, admiration and embarrassment. He tried to save face by standing a little taller, pushing a hand through messy hair.

"Hmph. You're lucky it's rude to hex a man in his own home." He stated with a little nod, managing the tiniest of grins to let the ex-Slytherin know he was joking and that he wouldn't really have hexed him. "Next time find some other punishment, yeah? I'll not be surprised if that ends up in the Prophet in the morning."

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dh_marcus
2008-04-22 12:03 am UTC (link)

A rumbling laugh was punctuated by Harry's fists beating on Marcus' chest as Harry expressed his unhappiness with Marcus' little trick.

"To the bone and I would be the first to admit it," he told Harry, rubbing a spot on his chest that actually stung from one of Harry's blows. "I think you might leave a bruise, Potter. Not exactly the way I like to receive them, but if you're into that kinky shite I guess I could accommodate," Marcus teased, then his fingers toyed at the sheer fabric of Harry's jumper.

"Fancy. You don't strike me as anything but the t-shirt and denims type of bloke. This all for me?"

Marcus looked out a window and then gave Harry a serious look. "It won't," he told him gravely in response to Harry's Prophet worries. Marcus didn't elaborate, but the last reporter that tried to get onto Flint lands went missing for weeks, and turned up barely remembering his own name.

"So...you're here in the middle of the night, trussed up like...well I don't know what and you land here on my doorstep. Here to talk business are you?" Marcus concluded, completely aware that talks of business was probably not on Harry's mind.

"You were fortunate that I was on my way down to the kitchens for a snack when Gerald greeted you. Hungry?"

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dh__harry
2008-04-22 12:13 am UTC (link)

"Good. Prat," Harry snapped playfully as Marcus complained of a bruise. He bit his lip at both the mention of 'kinky shite', his mind going back to the conversation he'd had with Ginny, and Marcus' fingers playing with his jumper.

"Ginny's idea. Seemed to think I'd gone round the bend for not shagging you back at the Head," He admitted, though he knew it would probably only add fuel to Marcus' self-satisfaction fire. Oh, well.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Marcus' serious response to his off-the-cuff remark about the Prophet, but let it go. He probably didn't want to know.

"I thought I'd made my interest pretty clear the other night," He responded to the older man's business talk question, using Marcus' own words against him. He smirked, shaking his head. "No..." He paused. When had the last time he'd eaten been? He couldn't really remember. He didn't eat much, or very often. He shrugged, arms crossing over his abdomen. "Maybe I'll have a little something, if that's where you're headed..."

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dh_marcus
2008-04-22 12:46 am UTC (link)

"Well whoever this Ginny person is, I'm inclined to agree with her. On the going round the bend for last time," Marcus told Harry, his finger making a trail down Harry's abdomen before finally falling away. At the time Marcus hadn't acknowledged the real, true reason why Harry turned him away. But in the hangover fog of the next morning, remembering what had transpired between the two, Marcus had mulled over the cup of coffee he was soothing his headache with - the thought that Harry hadn't been with any blokes.

And what exactly did that mean?

"You did and then you left me to resort to self-gratification," Marcus said bluntly. "Pardon me for being just the tiniest bit confused, Potter," he finished, without venom. "Snog me then shove me out the door. What's a poor bloke to think?" Marcus smirked with sarcasm - and the irony was that he had done on more than one occasion to another what Harry had done to him.

"This way for a nibble then." Marcus led Harry towards the kitchen which was a huge, open space with gleaming copper pots and pans and even an herb garden attached to it outside. Marcus couldn't have cared though - the kitchen was Gerald's baby; his pride and joy.

And it was Gerald who was busy chopping up something on the cutting board when Marcus and Harry entered.

"Ah, Master Flint. Hungry after all?" Gerald asked, then turned and wiped his hands.

"For some things - more for others. Harry, this is Gerald - the manor's overseer. Gerald - Harry Potter."

"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter. Shall I make up a couple of omelette's for the two of you?"

"Could do. Thanks, Gerald. Throw in some tomato with the fry up, yeah?"

Marcus showed Harry a seat around a large island in the kitchen and pulled out two beers from the icebox without asking if Harry wanted one.

"So what do you think of Harry's outfit, Gerald? Think I should change the staff uniforms to something like this?"

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dh__harry
2008-04-22 12:54 am UTC (link)

"Ex-girlfriend, one of my best friends." Harry informed Marcus, his mouth becoming quite dry as the man's finger trailed over his abdomen, little electric shocks causing bumps to rise on his pale skin. He tried not to shiver visibly. "Can you blame me? I apologise for...letting things happen that I wasn't prepared to finish, I'll say that much."

He acknowledged the fact that it wasn't very fair to leave Marcus hanging like that, but at the same time Harry hadn't known from the get go that Marcus had shagging on his mind, or even snogging. And certainly not that one had to lead to the other.

Harry followed the taller man into the kitchen, silently admiring how nice it was. He'd spent many an hour in the Dursley's kitchen growing up, cooking for the entire family while often times being left out of the meal. He shook his head, managing a little smile in Gerald's direction.

"The pleasure is mine, Gerald. You keep a beautiful home," He complimented, unsure of how to address the man. He sat down where Marcus gestured, aiming a kick in the ex-Slytherin's direction as he asked Gerald about his outfit. That was the last time he was buying anything just to impress anyone!

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dh_marcus
2008-04-22 01:05 am UTC (link)

"I think I'll keep my suits, if it's all the same Master Flint," Gerald remarked dryly, feeling embarrassed for the other man. Master Flint could be a horrible tease, especially when he had an audience.

Quickly preparing the meal for the two men, Gerald then grabbed the book he had been reading earlier and his cup of tea and bade Marcus and his guest good night.

"Don't be embarrassed around Gerald - he's pretty much heard it all and then some. He does launder my sheets, after all," Marcus told Harry before tucking into his omelette.

"So...I suppose I should give you the tour after we've finished eating," he said conversationally. "By the way - those trousers can't possibly be comfortable can they? I mean, they're smashing yeah? Can't wait to get them off you - maybe I should soon hm?"

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dh__harry
2008-04-22 01:11 am UTC (link)

Harry thanked Gerald for the food but sighed in relief when the older man tastefully bid them good night and left. At least someone of that household had some tact.

"Oh, that's reassuring." Harry commented dryly in response to Marcus' flippant comment about cleaning the sheets. He tried to ignore the fact that he was sitting so close to Marcus, taking his sweet time eating his omelette. It was delicious, he hadn't realised how hungry he was or how wonderful good food could taste. The Head wasn't exactly known for its fine cuisine.

"They're comfortable enough," Harry remarked tersely, heat rising to his face at Marcus' lewd comment. He didn't know how to respond to it. "And here I thought you might be good at making small talk. Ha!" He rolled his eyes, taking both of their empty plates to the sink and giving them a good scrub. "Maybe I'd like a tour later..." He murmured softly, as he dried the plates and set them on the counter. He turned to face the ex-Slytherin, leveling him with a gaze.

"Which way to your bedroom?"

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dh_marcus
2008-04-22 01:25 am UTC (link)

They finished off their meal quickly - Harry seeming to enjoy Gerald's cooking, which was not surprising. Marcus always commended Gerald on his cuisine.

"I'll take your word for it then," he smirked, watching Harry blush from Marcus' comment. "Small talk is for those who don't know how to ask a straight fucking question - or give an answer," he told the other man, handing over his plate as Harry hopped off the stool towards the sink. He watched as Harry scrubbed the plates off good - not that they needed too heavy of a cleaning. It was almost as if Potter was...nervous?

Running his tongue over his teeth, Marcus crossed his arms and looked Harry over. "It's not far. And it's the best room in the house, so I don't blame you for wanting to go there first," he bragged, then closed the distance between him and Harry.

Marcus reached out and wiggled a finger under the waistband of Harry's trousers. "Shall we then?"

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dh__harry
2008-04-22 01:31 am UTC (link)

Harry said nothing at Marcus' assertion that small talk was just an excuse for not asking straight questions. Nervousness was starting to flicker like little wings inside his stomach and his hands were beginning to shake the tiniest bit.

"Er, yeah." Was all the raven-haired wizard could manage as a finger hooked itself inside the band of his new trousers, scorching the bare skin there and making him shudder slightly. His brain didn't seem to be communicating very well with his tongue, his heart rate was beginning to raise with his nervousness. What was he doing there? He wasn't one to just go to someone's house for a good shagging, but Marcus was different. When he wasn't being a git, there was definitely something there.

He shook his head, following wordlessly. He'd already made his decision.

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dh_marcus
2008-04-22 01:48 am UTC (link)

A soft smile played at Marcus' lips when he saw the nervousness and just how unsure Harry was at how this was going to play out. But if there was anything Marcus did when it came to Harry's type - it was that he let them call the shots.

There were those blokes who acted like Harry, but really wanted to be seduced and liked to play the game of not being sure just to get Marcus' blood rising higher. But then there were the few rare ones that Marcus really did have to be easy with, lest they leave and curse Marcus' name to the end of their days.

Letting his finger slip out of the waistband of Harry's trousers, Marcus cocked his head towards the kitchen door. He felt Harry either beside him or behind him and not too far away - at any point Marcus could have reached out and touched the man. When they reached the stairs leading to the wing where Marcus' private chambers were, Marcus stepped aside and allowed Harry to go first - Marcus' hand ghosting over the back of Harry's jumper and feeling the heat of Harry's skin under his palm.

"No turning back now," Marcus murmured low near Harry's ear when they reached the double doors to Marcus' bedroom. Again, the doors were of a dark wood and Marcus opened them both to swing open.

The room was very large and was where Marcus spent most of his time since there was an office in one corner, hidden by wooden, carved screens. The bed was massive and the decor in creams, dark woods and dark greens.

"Pardon the obvious Slytherin colours, but when you grow up around them you tend to just not be able to live without them," Marcus told Harry, closing the bedroom doors behind them.

In a fluid motion, Marcus pulled his own button-down over his head, not bothering to fiddle with the buttons that had held it closed.

"So...get comfortable," Marcus invited, nodding towards the bed while he himself took a seat in a leather wingback chair next to the dresser.

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dh__harry
2008-04-22 01:58 am UTC (link)

Harry felt the shift in the atmosphere and he followed Marcus out of the kitchen; he leaned back minutely into the hand that pressed into his back, finding it comforting as he continued to climb the stairs. He swallowed around the large lump that had formed in his throat at Marcus' soft warning, breath tickling along his sensitive ear. He took a deep breath and entered the room once the doors opened.

"I've never minded them," He murmured; Marcus' room was large, but it was tasteful and quite beautifully done. He couldn't recall ever having seen a bed as large as this one, and was sorely tempted to jump on it. Somehow he didn't think that was appropriate. Then his thoughts turned to what sometimes occurred on beds, particularly this one, and the wings in his stomach became less like butterflies and more like bats, swooping and beating frantically.

Green eyes danced over the revealed skin that was Marcus' torso with obvious admiration. He kept in excellent shape, there was no doubt to that. Lean muscle, lightly tanned. Feeling put to shame, he averted his gaze as he toed off his trainers and socks, pulling the loose-threaded jumper over his head. He was almost painfully slender, ghostly pale in comparison to Marcus'. His torso was devoid of hair except the sparse trail that began just below his naval and traveled lower. The only thing that marred his skin were the scars.

Harry couldn't decide whether the room was really hot, or really cold as he looked again to the bed as Marcus sat down in a chair. What was he suppose to do, climb into the bed and under the covers? Take off his trousers and do a dance? He settled for sitting on the edge of the bed, sending a questioning glance in the Slytherin's direction. He could no longer even pretend he knew what he was doing.

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