Title: Heavy Things Don't Fly
Author: Annie Oates
Fandom: Potter!verse
Pairing: Oliver, Marcus/Percy
Rating: R to NC-17
Archive: Ask.
Disclaimers: Not mine, I'm a nasty little law-breaker.
Warnings: Slash. Marcus Flint. *g*
Author Notes: Dedicated to Melle.
Summery: Oliver wishes he could envy Marcus.
Timeline: 8th year.
Feedback: Is welcome, in all forms.
Oliver watches Percy's hands. Fluttering like broken wings around the pale column of his throat. His smooth skin begs for the press of fingertips, prints white then red, fading to purple. He watches a freckled shoulder disappear under the cover of a starched shirt. Sharp bones shift in white shadow. Oliver watches and knows how the delicate bones creak within a cruel grip, brittle and bird-like. Oliver watches. And waits.
Marcus doesn't disappoint. Spider web ghosts swirl and Oliver can feel the force on his face when Marcus slaps Percy into the corner, where light doesn't reach. After that Oliver has to trust his memory and imagination. He hears a soft, wet sound and sees Marcus shove his mouth against Percy's. His teeth cut into Percy's lip without biting. A rustle and rasp of zippers and Marcus presses hard length to limp flesh, and Oliver can hear each growling thrust against the cold and pliant Percy.
Then Percy moans.
'This is different.' Oliver thinks, a brush of anger highlighting the images in his mind.
Percy whimpers and shifts against Marcus, restless and begging. "Please."
Marcus growls and the sound ends, muffled. Oliver watches as Marcus bites into the supple skin of Percy's shoulder and groans. His hips shifting, almost pounding, cocks sliding wetly between the calloused fingers of a beater's hand. Oliver can hear Marcus panting, against the bruised skin of Percy's neck.
Marcus shudders and makes a sound like pain. He comes first, his body sagging, relieved against the taught form of Percy, shaking, back bruising against the stones. Oliver sees Marcus lean into Percy, shoulder pinning shoulder, and curve his palm around Percy's cock. He watches the muscles bunch in Marcus' arm as he jacks Percy with all the accuracy of striking a bludger dead on. Oliver wishes he could feel Percy's hands. The way they flutter around Marcus' head before settling on his arms, flitting over the play of strength. Oliver watches Percy rock his hips.
Percy starts panting.
Oliver wishes he could feel the bursts of breath across his face, especially when Percy drops his head forwards and touches his lips to Marcus' temple before jerking once and breathing his release. His fingers digging into Marcus' skin, prints left in the fabric. But no one will question it because it's Marcus.
Marcus arranges his clothing and Percy's hands, now steady, pulls the zipper up on Marcus' pants, then efficiently restores order to his own person. They part without words or lasting looks and Oliver wishes he could envy Marcus.
End.