Marcus Flint fucks in exactly the same way he plays Quidditch. Hard, fast, and vicious.
Not to mention completely fucking stupid.
UHBEW knows this, and really, for a Slytherin, Flint's a bit slow on the uptake. And so Flint's standing behind him grunting and thrusting and UHBEW feels it (Merlin, does he feel it, that's for fucking sure) - but that's not what he's thinking of. He's thinking of cigarette smoke curling in his hair and the prize arse of the Seeker in the air. He's thinking of a blond head and blow jobs in the locker room. Thinking of the way Flint wanted UHBEW pressed against them when they walked here, how fucking clear it was that he wanted UHBEW's breath on his ear. And again, thinking of the Seeker doing Feints until he almost fell off, because that arse just should never have been wasted. Fucked if Marcus Fucking Troll-In-The-Dungeons Flint is going to beat him to that, 'Captain's Rights' be gone.
Marcus is quick, and desperate, and UHBEW thinks, as his hand moves faster over himself, that Flint might have been fucking wanting this for some time.
And that's fine, because that fits in quite well with UHBEW's plans. He doesn't want Flint, not in any way. He's got taste, and he likes the look of the fresh little Seeker with the pout that would look better around someone's cock. Draco Fucking Malfoy. On his knees in the shower, and UHBEW can just imagine holding his little head there and throwing his head back to moan.
Fuck the captain's rights.
But of course, you don't go back on a challenge, no matter what. Not even in Slytherin, and if it's a wanking contest Flint wanted, it's a wanking contest Flint would get. And UHBEW was going to win it fair and square, even if he had to cheat to do so.
When he comes, it's with a grin and a jerk forward to cause Flint to fall, and he looks back unsympathetically.
"I win," he says, and smirks again. And the look on Flint's face is worth it, and the thought of the prize little Seeker's face even more so. He thinks, momentarily, that it would almost be worth it to fuck Flint. After all, it's not as if Flint would ever think to beat him after the line's been drawn and the cards cast. He's not that sort of Slytherin, for all his talk.
But the thought of the Seeker in the shower is somewhat more appealing, and he leaves Flint sprawled on the ground.
And the Gryffindors preach that cheaters never prosper, he scoffs, as he pushes open the changing room door.