Marcus was having fun. He didn't care much about the office work or counting receipts. He was home, or a sort of home that he was told about. He was in his place and it really was the hottest club in town. He could see why his older self had started it. He couldn't have really done it without Patrick. His mind drifted off, trying to decide what to do about him, and all the confusion that came with him. He should probably settle for just fucking him senseless. Quidditch was starting anyway and he was once again a Falmouth Falcon. They had taken him right away, even with the suspension and subsequent ban in his later years as a player.
After a quick sweet through the dance floor, he had dropped onto the sofa in one of the private lounges, chatting with a nice looking bloke. He was perhaps a bit too nice for his taste. Sending him back out to dance, he tipped his head back and relaxed.