Another Marcus/Harry? Yes. AU.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or My Chemical Romance.

Staring in the mirror, tears dripped down his face, hitting the floor quietly. He pressed his hand gently to the mirror, the reflection of his mimicking his every action. The blotchy beryl eyes were the same. The long, perfectly straight black hair that had taken forever to do was the same. The small stature fitted by red clothing was the same. The perfect pale skin hidden behind tan make-up was the same. The forever perfect smile that only existed in public was the same. The private self loathing was the same. The misery filled tears were the same. The stupid scar was the same.

And he hated it.

"This isn't me…"

And so he yanked off the damned shirt, ripping it in places. He shimmied out of the loose, dark red shorts, throwing them across the large room. He mussed up his hair, then grabbed a rubber band off the dresser, pulling the naturally messy hair into a high ponytail. His red tennis shoes were in a corner, and he ignored them, going straight for his closet. Throwing things everywhere, he pulled out a pair of black leather pants, black tank-top, and black Doc Martins. He also grabbed some fingerless black and white gloves that went up to his elbows. Yanking the clothing and gloves on, he glanced in the mirror, smiling briefly. He then slipped the boots on, tripping over his feet.

He looked in the mirror and frowned at what he saw. A face that wasn't his hiding who he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his torn red shirt, and grabbed it from the deep green carpet, striding to the bathroom to wet the ugly pile of rags. Turning on the faucet, he shoved the shirt under the clear, running water. He turned off the water, ringing the shirt out for any access water.

With one last glance at his old face, he pushed the shirt into his face, scrubbing furiously. Around four minutes later, he took the make shift towel off of his now clean face, staring at his real face. Blinking his large beryl eyes at the pale skin, he flickered the orbs over every inch, making sure he missed no spots. When he was satisfied with his work, he smiled brightly, his bright teeth showing against the pale flesh.

He threw the tattered shirt in the bathroom garbage can, mentally reminding himself to dump it out later. Right now, he had more important matters to attend to.

Walking quickly into his apartment kitchen, he grabbed a note pad and a pen, quickly scribbling something down in the note pad. Twenty minutes later, he finished with a flourish, tearing the eight pages out of the large blue note pad. He folded them hastily, pushing them into the secret compartment in his left boot.

With a last look in the mirror, he grabbed his keys, running out the doors of his apartment and speeding of on his black Harvey.

Five to ten minutes later, he parked his motorcycle in a spot reserved for employees only, rushing into the back door of the bar as quickly as he possibly could. The redheaded bartender with shining blue eyes looked up from polishing one of the glasses.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Whoa, Harry. If I had known today you would show your true colors, I would've prepared all my best pick-up lines."

Rolling his eyes, Harry smiled, "Please, don't, Bill."

"Ah, you wound me. You're on in two minutes, and your band is screaming about not having a song~!" Bill sung, turning to help a rather buff customer.

"Thanks, Bill!"

And with those words shouted over the music, Harry sped off, dodging through the crowd to get back stage to show the band the sheets of music he had come up with in the twenty minutes he'd had time to be home.

"Harry! Finally! Please tell me you have a song for us," Draco Malfoy, the lead guitarist and back-up vocalist, moaned, staring at him hopefully. The band stared hopefully at the tiny singer.

Harry grinned, taking out the papers filled with music notes, chords, and lyrics. He waved them around. "I got it."

"And now for the Archangels!"

"Now come one come all to this tragic affair
Wipe off that makeup, what's in is despair
So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot
You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not

If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see
You can find out firsthand what it's like to be me
So gather 'round piggies and kiss this goodbye
I'd encourage your smiles I'll expect you won't cry

Another contusion, my funeral jag
Here's my resignation, I'll serve it in drag
You've got front row seats to the penitence ball
When I grow up I want to be nothing at all!

I said yeah, yeah!
I said yeah, yeah!

C'mon, C'mon, C'mon, I said
(Save me!) Get me the hell out of here
(Save me!) Too young to die and my dear
(You can't!) If you can hear me just walk away and
(Take me!)"

As Harry finished the last note, the crowd broke into applause, one man's eyes never wavering from the lead singer. The band bowed, and Harry smiled, "Thank you, goodnight, everybody!"

"Harry, they loved it! Where the fuck did you get that song?" Draco asked, grinning wildly as he grasped Harry's shoulders tightly.

"I looked in the mirror earlier, and it just came to me…," Harry murmured, smiling happily from the applause of the crowd.

"Dude, that was awesome," Charlie Weasley, their drummer, laughed. "You are seriously awesome at writing songs."

Blushing, Harry shook his head, smiling and attempting to hide his face.

"Alright, everyone, as awesome as the song was—by the way, great job Harry, loved it—it's time to go home, so chop-chop, bye, either stay and play in the club, or get your cute asses out," Pansy, the owner of the bar who had a large weak spot for Draco and Harry, yelled, slamming her giant fists on the counter.

The band squeaked, hugging Harry then fleeing—sexily. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled, picking up his belongings. He opened the door when he paused.

"Harry, songs that show your real emotions like that one are the ones that people will really like. And today it's pretty obvious that you're showing who you really are, not just someone who puts on make-up for a show. I really hope that we'll see more of you."

Looking back at Pansy with wide eyes, he melted into a warm, angelic smile. "You will."

Turning once again, he froze, "Harry, have you ever thought about dating again?"

He let out a soft sigh, letting the door shut in front of him. He rested his forehead against it. "I don't think there's any girl out there for me, Pansy. I haven't dated a girl in six years."

"Now, who said it had to be a girl?"

He turned around, staring at with giant beryl eyes. "W-What?"

She continued to stare at him with blank eyes, "Harry, I want to see you happy. And it's pretty obvious to everyone except for you that you'd be better off with a guy. Haven't you ever even thought about it?"

Dumbfounded, he paused. Was she seriously going on about this?

Pansy continued on without hesitation, "See? Even you have thought about it. It's because it's meant that way. Tell you what. I could help you find the right man. I know plenty of guys—guys you would never even think—that are as gay as a flower in a tea shop. Of course, you'd be more of an uke…"

She was seriously going on about this!

With a blush, Harry murmured softly, "Pansy, I like someone already."

Her eyebrows raised. Really, now? She wondered who it could be… Was it Draco? No, it wouldn't be him… She smirked evilly. This would be so much fun! "Now, who is it, then? I could help you…"

"Marcus Flint…," Harry muttered lowly, cheeks burning.

"Who?"

"Marcus Flint," Harry repeated louder and with more confidence.

"You like that great big oaf? Well, Harry. I guess you go for the tall, dark, and ugly, eh?" She barked, giggling like a school girl who just found out her best friend had a crush on the teacher.

"He's not ugly, he's beautiful!" Harry yelled, glaring at her with piercing emerald daggers. If looks could kill… Well, let's just say… Nope, not even going to say it.

Turning red, Pansy clapped a hand over her mouth. "B-B-eauti-ti-ful…" Pansy exploded, tears coming of out the corners of her brown eyes, "Oh, Lord, beautiful, aaha!"

"Shut up…," Harry muttered, redder than a beet.

Gasping for air, Pansy finally schooled herself, giggles escaping only so often. "Okay, I'm good. …Beautiful… Alright, anyway, he's pretty easy to spot, so I know he's at the bar right now, talking to Draco. Apparently knew each other or something, so let's go and get you some man! Oh, and Harry? You're not leaving until you get boyfriend. If you do… Well, let's just say the consequences will be severe and will not be pleasant whatsoever, okay?"

"No, Pansy!" Harry yelped as she dragged him off through the crowded club to the bar. She set him down on the bar in front of Draco, patting him on the head and disappearing into the loud crowd

Draco blinked at the tiny nineteen year old, making a hand motion to Marcus to put a pause on their conversation. He raised a perfect blonde brow, "You still here, Harry? Thought you would've gone home by now."

Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair. "Pansy refuses to let me leave until I get a boyfriend," Harry deadpanned.

Draco grinned, "So you admit you're gay!"

Harry face palmed. Is this really what he'd been reduced to? "Yes, Draco. I am gay."

"Uke or seme. No, wait, let me guess," Draco ran his eyes up and down Harry's petite figure, "Oh, by far, you are definitely an uke."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the blonde. "Why does everyone keep saying that?" Harry whined.

"Because Harry, there is no fucking way in hell you could top anyone. Even in your dreams. You're just too feminine. Sorry, Harry, but that's the way of the uke," Draco smirked, reaching out and flicking the singer on the nose. He was just too adorable for his own good!

Harry moaned in annoyance, "Oh, I give up."

"Great," Draco chirped, "then I'll just hook you up with someone… Harry, meet my friend Marcus, Marcus, meet my best friend, Harry. Now, you two play nice now!"

And with that, the sneaky bastard used the same technique as Pansy and slipped into the crowd. That little—

"Well, Potter, I don't like clubs. How about we get out of here?" Marcus rumbled with a smirk that showed crooked teeth, staring at Harry with his deep chocolate brown eyes intently.

Harry smirked back. "Sure."

"Ooh, Draco, they're leaving together! Look!" Pansy squealed, pointing at the two men leaving the club together.

Draco stared wide-eyed at the pair. He narrowed his eyes, grey eyes tracing their every move. "That fast?"

Pansy slapped Draco on the back of the head. "Be happy for them!" She barked, glaring at the blonde.

Looking back at the door, she smiled with hearts in her eyes. "Ah, young love…"

The door to Harry's apartment shut quietly behind the pair with a small, 'click'.

Marcus pushed Harry up against the wall, kissing him passionately while running his hands up and down the smaller boy's sides, feeling every curve of his tiny lover's body. Harry's arms wound themselves around Marcus's neck, and his legs wrapped around the large man's body.

Marcus let his lips trail from his boyfriend's lips to his neck, the small nineteen year old letting out tiny whimpers and moans as red and purple marks were left from his licking, sucking, kissing, and biting.

After a particularly hard bite, Harry whimpered loudly, from pleasure and knowledge of the love mark that would be evident the next day. He panted out while grinding his small hips against Marcus's, "M-Marcus…"

Marcus growled, sucking and biting at the boy's neck more furiously. He let his large hands wander under the boy's shirt, running up and down the pale sides. He smirked as Harry let out a moan when he tweaked a hard nipple.

He licked Harry's ear, biting on his earlobe gently and tugging, "When were you going to tell them we've been dating for five years?"

The song was The End by My Chemical Romance. I fucking love that song. You should listen to it.

LORD GIVE YOU THE STRENGTH… to review. I might make a lemony sequel to this… Maybe. :3

Thanks for reading!