Short HP P/O fic
Mar. 22nd, 2004 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarotgalUpon demand... still not a lot of snuggling or sneezing... but it's what popped into my brain, I'm afraid. :-)
Title: Going Down that Road Again
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Harry Potter, post OotP
Rating: G/PG
Pairing: post-Oliver/Percy… and pre-Oliver/Percy
Disclaimer: *sigh* I wish they were mine. If they were, I’d still treat them like this, though
Summary: Sequel to ‘Chance Encounter’. Oliver stays over at Percy’s as he tries to sort out their relationship. Percy tries not to push but clearly wants Oliver back.
Notes: Thank you to those people who made me realize the story needed to go on a little longer
Going Down that Road Again
“But I’ve never missed a game!” Oliver protested, straining to get up.
But Percy’s blanket tucking skills seemed to have improved over the year they’d been separated and there was no getting up around them. “Well, then this will be a first for you, won’t it?” Percy replied, giving a final tuck to the blankets beneath Oliver’s chin as the man scowled. “Oh come on, you’re still just the backup keeper, aren’t you? They can do without you for one game, can’t they?”
Oliver had a defiant look in his eyes. Ever since he’d been pulled from the reserves onto the full-fledged team, he’d taken his role as backup keeper very seriously. To abandon his teammates for any reason was tantamount to treachery.
“hehhUHHShhhh! UhhChhhh! hehChhhh!” Oliver snapped forward weakly, unable to untuck himself to cover his nose. “Uhhh…” he groaned, leaning his head to the side, against the back of the couch. “They can do without be for one game,” he agreed, closing his eyes. “It’s only the Canons. They never win.”
Percy smiled. “Don’t let my brothers hear you saying that.”
Eyes still closed, Oliver’s mouth twitched up into a smile. It felt good to be back with Percy. Few people appreciated his extremely infrequent, subtle humor, or his terribly ambitious streak. But as Oliver had both, himself, it was difficult not to see the charm and appeal that was Percy Weasley. Normal people… normal people knew where to draw the line, though. And that wasn’t Percy. And sometimes that was difficult to handle.
“Would you like your tea now or after your nap?”
“Perce,” Oliver sighed. He knew there would be no reasoning with the man when he got into one of his overly protective moods.
“Look,” Percy sat down on the edge of the couch. His hand found Oliver’s side automatically, and began rubbing. “I’m going to need to leave for a little while on… on business… and I just want to be sure you’re taken care of when I’m away.” At Oliver’s expression, he quickly added, “Yes, I’ll be back in time for us to leave for the game. I just want to be sure you don’t burn my place down making tea when I’m perfectly happy to make some for you now if you’d like it.”
Oliver yawned and shook his head. “I just want to sleep. But thanks.” He snuggled up beneath the blanket with a yawn and every intention of sleeping. He could feel Percy hovering over him for a moment or two, as though debating giving a kiss or a more comforting touch. Oliver wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep with Percy watching him like that. But after a few moments of hesitation, Percy rose and left him alone.
Oliver did, in fact, fall to sleep sometime before Percy left. But he woke up thanks to loud snores and a stuffy nose not long after Percy left. “Wakig byself ub with sdores. That’s bad,” Oliver commented, reaching for the tissues to blow his nose clear. But it tickled his nose and Oliver found himself submitting to a small bout of sneezing before he could blow his nose yet again. “UhChhhh! hehChuhhh! hahShuhhh! hehShhh! hehShooo! hihShhh!” By the time he was done with it all, the blanket had untucked itself and he wasn’t feeling sleepy in the least.
Oliver stood, taking the blanket and a handful of tissues with him. He put on a pot of water for tea, promising to the silence of Percy’s apartment that he wouldn’t burn anything down. He’d never been that great in the kitchen, but never had that sort of trouble. Percy just liked to keep all his bases covered.
As Oliver waited for the water to heat up, he walked around, tightening the blanket around his shoulders. Everything was much as it had been years ago, and gave him a rather jumpy feeling in his stomach. The breakup had been difficult, long, and trying. It had changed them both in ways that hadn’t been entirely clear then. But now it felt strange. To be back again. To be trying again. It was like all the living and growing over the last year hadn’t even happened.
Oliver pulled a book off the shelf and leafed through it. It was a book to improve writing and speaking skills. That was Percy all right. Oliver slid it back onto the shelf quickly and held his fistful of tissues to his nose. His eyebrows rose as he felt the sneezing coming on slowly. “heh… hehSHOO!” He shivered and tightened the blanket around himself. Then he moved on. There were pictures of his family. One in particular was in a broken frame. Oliver remembered vividly when Percy threw it across the room in a rare fit of frustration. He’d never seen Percy like that, and it had been a bit scary to watch. Five minutes later, Oliver had packed and left. Percy could have repaired the picture frame and its broken glass by now, but it seemed he had chosen not to.
Oliver moved on, finding a small bit of parchment shoved between two books. He slid it out to find it was a letter from Dumbledore. It didn’t say so, but somehow Oliver recognized the writing. The letter was about some nonsense about a song. Oliver knew it had to have been some sort of code or trick letter, but didn’t really want to figure it out. Between another two books were a series of letters in envelopes that Oliver had sent Percy in the beginning of their relationship. “He kept them…” Oliver breathed, a bit astonished. Sweet and tender as Percy was, he also wasn’t exactly the sentimental type. He was practical about things, and keeping love letters about was far from practical.
The tea kettle began to whistle, and Oliver headed over, turning off the burner and removing the kettle. He poured the steaming water into the mug and dunked the tea bag into it, while spooning in sugar and honey. He half wished he’d asked for the tea before Percy left. Percy always made tea taste so much better. No matter what Oliver did to it, he never managed to get it to taste quite as good.
Feeling a little warmer moving around, Oliver held the mug in one hand while he continued to walk around Percy’s apartment. His Quidditch skills helped him to keep from spilling the tea as he walked and shook with sneezes as they struck. He read over all the titles of Percy’s books, finding it interesting how many adventure and mystery novels he had, a mix of magical and muggle both. Then he went from picture to picture hanging on Percy’s wall. There was one of a sunset over an ocean, beautiful, simple and innocent. There was a painting of a sunrise over the great pyramids of Egypt. And there was a map of England with little images of wizards doing various things like shopping in Diagon Alley or being shared by the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmede.
When Oliver had completely and thoroughly explored the living room, he poked his head into Percy’s bedroom. He had not been in there since before they broke up. Percy had not exactly invited him in, but he had also left the door open during Oliver’s visit. Oliver had slept the night before on the couch, and Percy in the bedroom, and neither had discussed the situation of sleeping arrangements. Of course, that had been mostly because Oliver had fallen asleep on the couch before they could discuss it, and Percy hadn’t had the heart to move him.
The room looked strangely the same. The same blankets and sheets on the bed, the same inspirational poster about success on one wall, the same plain dresser and mirror above it. The wall that used to sport a Puddlemere United poster, however, was quite bare.
“hihShahh! huhShhhh!” Oliver sneezed, falling forward a bit weakly, nose pressed into the tissues. The tea, however, had not spilled. Oliver snuffled into the tissues until they were rather used up. He tossed them into the trash can beside Oliver’s bed and attempted to take another couple tissues from the box on Oliver’s nightstand. But, one-handed, he wasn’t able to pull the tissue free from the box as the box came up along with it. Oliver took the tissue, trying to get it free from the box, but the box bumped lightly against the lamp, and against a small wooden box on the nightstand. The wooden box fell to the floor, and the tissue ripped in half.
With a sigh, Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed and went to set the tea down on the nightstand. He hesitated, however, when he realized there was no coaster. And, somehow, Percy would know if he didn’t use a coaster. “Oh hang it all!” Oliver complained, rubbing the half a tissue at his running nose. He headed into the living room, grabbed a coaster off the coffee table, and returned to the bedroom. He set his tea down, and then pulled a few tissues from the box until he had another good handful of them. “heh…” Just in time, in fact. “huh…” Oliver ran a hand through his brown hair, then held the tissues up to his nose with both slightly shaking hands. It was taking its time, but in just a few more seconds, they would strike and be strong. “heh… huh… uhhHUHShhh! Ehshhhh! Ihshhh! ehhShuhh! Kshuhhh!” He blew his nose several times, then he tossed the used tissues away, leaning forward for the trash bin.
As he leaned forward, he saw the box he’d knocked to the ground. Quickly he picked it up and set it back on the nightstand, but the wooden lid was askew. Oliver knew the box well, and knew that he shouldn’t look inside it. It was the box in which Percy kept all his most private mementos. He’d let Oliver see inside it once, when he’d been very sleepy after sex and felt in the mood to share. And then they’d stayed up all night talking about its contents and related memories. Oliver reached out and lifted the lid, intending fully to just put it right back in place. But unconsciously he lifted it too high and his eyes could not tear themselves away in curiosity. He saw a handful of familiar items on top. Percy’s prefect badge, a dragon tooth he’d found once when visiting Charlie in Romania, and the first gold galleon he ever earned. Percy felt a twinge of guilt at knocking these to the floor. He knew he should have been more careful with Percy’s memories at stake. With a deep breath, he held the lid up higher to make sure he hadn’t broken anything within the box. Just below and to the side, which had been out of view a moment before, was an item Oliver had not seen before. It was small, but unmistakable just the same.
A tiny figure in navy blur robes with gold trim was waving its arms in what was actually a rather skillful manner, blocking the hoop it hovered in front of on a broomstick. Hesitantly, Oliver reached down and took up the figure. It was a strange sensation, holding one’s self in one’s hand. It hovered there in front of the hoop, a look of concentration on his face. Oliver wondered if he actually looked so serious when he was playing. Of course, Quidditch was a most serious thing for him, to be sure. But it was also the most exiting and enjoyable thing in the world to him.
And here was Percy, with a little Oliver in his treasure box. Gritting his teeth and wishing he hadn’t looked, he put the figure back and replaced the lid carefully. What did this mean? What else could it mean other than the fact that Percy still cared about him and treasured the time when they’d been together? Maybe it reminded him of the first Quidditch match Oliver had dragged him to see. Or maybe it reminded him of the day after the big win when he and Oliver had made love for the first time. “Or maybe he keeps it around to remember how much it hurt when I broke up with him,” Oliver answered himself with a deep sigh.
He had been forced to do it, though. Oliver had really had no choice. Percy understood that now. They’d talked about it yesterday when Percy invited him over after they’d met in the twins’ joke shop. Percy knew better than anyone how much of an uptight ass he’d been. And he’d been an ass to everyone; that hadn’t been exclusive to Oliver. At the beginning, it had been just his parents, then his whole family, then Dumbledore and Harry Potter and everyone they associated with. And when that happened, Oliver hadn’t been able to offer Percy a place to unload his burdens and find warm arms to cuddle into. No, when that happened, he alienated Oliver as well and Oliver had left. Even a man who never, ever gave up in a Quidditch match knew well when it was time to give up on a relationship.
But Percy had changed. He’d explained about Fudge and You-Know-Who. He’d explained about Umbridge and the ministry. And most of all, he’d explained about all the horrible things he’d done over the course of the year and a half. Things were better now. He’d changed. He’d learned. He’d stopped being afraid of the unknown. He’d stopped fighting to control everything. He’d learned that he didn’t have to be the best all the time, so long as he was doing what was right. Or so he said. Of course, a year and a half ago he’d thought he was doing what was right as well.
“Oh Perce,” Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to think any more. It wasn’t so easy to let a guy like Percy back again. Percy had been strong and controlling. Percy always had to be right about every little thing. Percy always had to have a reason to do anything. And Oliver knew he certainly had his reasons for inviting Oliver over and offering to take care of him when he was in town and sick. “He wants me back,” Oliver whispered, nodding to himself.
A second later, his thoughts vanished. His mental powers were all concentrated upon an oncoming sneeze. He lifted the tissues to his nose and mouth, breathing heavily into them. “hehh… huh… oh come on…” he pleaded with the sneeze. This cold only seemed to get worse as time went on, but Oliver refused to let it play with him. “heh-IHHShhh! ehhHushhh! ihhChuhhh!” He shook his head, snuffling a little, and tossed the tissues away in favor of some fresh ones.
This time, he pulled a few more out, then set the tissue box on his lap as he took his mug of tea in his other hand. Oliver wanted to be sure to drink it while it was still warm, or it wouldn’t do much good and he’d have to go through the trouble of making another and risk possibly burning the place down again.
When he’d gulped the last of it down, he started to feel sleepy again. He tried to remember his train of thought before the tea, and before the sneezes. But all he could remember was seeing that figure of himself in Percy’s box. And all he could think to himself was that he’d kept notes and photos from his time with Percy as well.
With a deep sigh, Oliver set the cup on the nightstand, on the coaster of course, and fell sideways on the bed. He was struck suddenly by the softness and the familiarity. More than anything at all in the whole flat, this bed was Percy, and this comforter and pillow were Percy. In as much as beds and such could be a person. They overwhelmed him with scent and touch and memories. He remembered how the bed bowed a little in the middle, forcing them to snuggle close together. He remembered how many nights they’d stayed up talking, or making love. He remembered how relaxing it was to spend the night over at Percy’s when he didn’t have Quidditch practice the next morning. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night just to watch and listen to Percy sleep.
“Oh, Perce,” Oliver sighed again, shaking his head. He hugged the tissue box to his chest, then reached out and grabbed the other side of the comforter. He folded it over him and snuggled up to its warmth. Before he could think on anything else, he was asleep.
And before he knew it, Percy was hovering over him, calling out to him. Realizing he’d fallen asleep in Percy’s bed, Oliver woke with a start. “It’s okay,” Percy assured him. “I don’t mind. Just wanted to tell you we need to leave now if we’re going to make it to the game on time.”
Oliver shook with a strong yawn and tried to move beneath the comforter. But it was all too heavy and too warm to want to leave so soon. “huh…” He cupped a hand to his nose and mouth. “uhhHushhh! ihhShhhh! Sniff!” He sniffed hard and rubbed at his nose, miserably. And yet, he was still warm and comfy wrapped in the comforter.
“Or we can stay if you’d rather,” Percy offered. Then, realizing how that sounded, he added, “It’s drizzling outside again. Might be better for you just to try and sleep some more.”
For a moment or two, Oliver considered this. It was true. They could just stay inside. Percy could slip beneath the comforter with him and hold him until he felt better, the way it used to be. But things weren’t like how they used to be. At least, not yet. “No, I need to go watch the game,” Oliver insisted. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Just give me a minute to get my shoes and cloak on.”
“I’ll give you five,” Percy said, collecting Oliver’s empty mug and the now slightly squashed tissue box. It seemed that Oliver had rolled onto it sometime as he slept.
Oliver got up and trudged to the living room, pulling on his shoes and stopping to yawn now and again. The yawning irritated his throat, which made him stop to cough as well. Percy walked over and slipped a few tissues into Oliver’s pocket before the man could pull his cloak on. Oliver shivered a little at the touch, but smiled. “Thanks, Perce.”
“Do you want to borrow an extra jumper to stay warm?” asked Percy.
Oliver hesitated, thinking of how it would feel to have a sweater of Percy’s around him, warming him through the whole game as he watched from the stands. Oliver shook his head. “No, thanks though. I’ll just let you put your arms around me if I get chilly. How would that be?”
Percy grinned. “I could do that,” he agreed softly. “Besides, you’d probably stretch out my jumper with those broad shoulders of yours.”
He chuckled and pulled away as Oliver reacted. “Hey now! I’m not that much bigger than you!” And, chuckling, he chased Percy out the door.
:-)
EDIT: Marta just updated today with a lovely picture of Percy (returning his Christmas jumper, if you ask me, though he could just be working). How's that for good timing? :-)
http://www.artdungeon.net/general/template.php?p=percyw
Title: Going Down that Road Again
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Harry Potter, post OotP
Rating: G/PG
Pairing: post-Oliver/Percy… and pre-Oliver/Percy
Disclaimer: *sigh* I wish they were mine. If they were, I’d still treat them like this, though
Summary: Sequel to ‘Chance Encounter’. Oliver stays over at Percy’s as he tries to sort out their relationship. Percy tries not to push but clearly wants Oliver back.
Notes: Thank you to those people who made me realize the story needed to go on a little longer
Going Down that Road Again
“But I’ve never missed a game!” Oliver protested, straining to get up.
But Percy’s blanket tucking skills seemed to have improved over the year they’d been separated and there was no getting up around them. “Well, then this will be a first for you, won’t it?” Percy replied, giving a final tuck to the blankets beneath Oliver’s chin as the man scowled. “Oh come on, you’re still just the backup keeper, aren’t you? They can do without you for one game, can’t they?”
Oliver had a defiant look in his eyes. Ever since he’d been pulled from the reserves onto the full-fledged team, he’d taken his role as backup keeper very seriously. To abandon his teammates for any reason was tantamount to treachery.
“hehhUHHShhhh! UhhChhhh! hehChhhh!” Oliver snapped forward weakly, unable to untuck himself to cover his nose. “Uhhh…” he groaned, leaning his head to the side, against the back of the couch. “They can do without be for one game,” he agreed, closing his eyes. “It’s only the Canons. They never win.”
Percy smiled. “Don’t let my brothers hear you saying that.”
Eyes still closed, Oliver’s mouth twitched up into a smile. It felt good to be back with Percy. Few people appreciated his extremely infrequent, subtle humor, or his terribly ambitious streak. But as Oliver had both, himself, it was difficult not to see the charm and appeal that was Percy Weasley. Normal people… normal people knew where to draw the line, though. And that wasn’t Percy. And sometimes that was difficult to handle.
“Would you like your tea now or after your nap?”
“Perce,” Oliver sighed. He knew there would be no reasoning with the man when he got into one of his overly protective moods.
“Look,” Percy sat down on the edge of the couch. His hand found Oliver’s side automatically, and began rubbing. “I’m going to need to leave for a little while on… on business… and I just want to be sure you’re taken care of when I’m away.” At Oliver’s expression, he quickly added, “Yes, I’ll be back in time for us to leave for the game. I just want to be sure you don’t burn my place down making tea when I’m perfectly happy to make some for you now if you’d like it.”
Oliver yawned and shook his head. “I just want to sleep. But thanks.” He snuggled up beneath the blanket with a yawn and every intention of sleeping. He could feel Percy hovering over him for a moment or two, as though debating giving a kiss or a more comforting touch. Oliver wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep with Percy watching him like that. But after a few moments of hesitation, Percy rose and left him alone.
Oliver did, in fact, fall to sleep sometime before Percy left. But he woke up thanks to loud snores and a stuffy nose not long after Percy left. “Wakig byself ub with sdores. That’s bad,” Oliver commented, reaching for the tissues to blow his nose clear. But it tickled his nose and Oliver found himself submitting to a small bout of sneezing before he could blow his nose yet again. “UhChhhh! hehChuhhh! hahShuhhh! hehShhh! hehShooo! hihShhh!” By the time he was done with it all, the blanket had untucked itself and he wasn’t feeling sleepy in the least.
Oliver stood, taking the blanket and a handful of tissues with him. He put on a pot of water for tea, promising to the silence of Percy’s apartment that he wouldn’t burn anything down. He’d never been that great in the kitchen, but never had that sort of trouble. Percy just liked to keep all his bases covered.
As Oliver waited for the water to heat up, he walked around, tightening the blanket around his shoulders. Everything was much as it had been years ago, and gave him a rather jumpy feeling in his stomach. The breakup had been difficult, long, and trying. It had changed them both in ways that hadn’t been entirely clear then. But now it felt strange. To be back again. To be trying again. It was like all the living and growing over the last year hadn’t even happened.
Oliver pulled a book off the shelf and leafed through it. It was a book to improve writing and speaking skills. That was Percy all right. Oliver slid it back onto the shelf quickly and held his fistful of tissues to his nose. His eyebrows rose as he felt the sneezing coming on slowly. “heh… hehSHOO!” He shivered and tightened the blanket around himself. Then he moved on. There were pictures of his family. One in particular was in a broken frame. Oliver remembered vividly when Percy threw it across the room in a rare fit of frustration. He’d never seen Percy like that, and it had been a bit scary to watch. Five minutes later, Oliver had packed and left. Percy could have repaired the picture frame and its broken glass by now, but it seemed he had chosen not to.
Oliver moved on, finding a small bit of parchment shoved between two books. He slid it out to find it was a letter from Dumbledore. It didn’t say so, but somehow Oliver recognized the writing. The letter was about some nonsense about a song. Oliver knew it had to have been some sort of code or trick letter, but didn’t really want to figure it out. Between another two books were a series of letters in envelopes that Oliver had sent Percy in the beginning of their relationship. “He kept them…” Oliver breathed, a bit astonished. Sweet and tender as Percy was, he also wasn’t exactly the sentimental type. He was practical about things, and keeping love letters about was far from practical.
The tea kettle began to whistle, and Oliver headed over, turning off the burner and removing the kettle. He poured the steaming water into the mug and dunked the tea bag into it, while spooning in sugar and honey. He half wished he’d asked for the tea before Percy left. Percy always made tea taste so much better. No matter what Oliver did to it, he never managed to get it to taste quite as good.
Feeling a little warmer moving around, Oliver held the mug in one hand while he continued to walk around Percy’s apartment. His Quidditch skills helped him to keep from spilling the tea as he walked and shook with sneezes as they struck. He read over all the titles of Percy’s books, finding it interesting how many adventure and mystery novels he had, a mix of magical and muggle both. Then he went from picture to picture hanging on Percy’s wall. There was one of a sunset over an ocean, beautiful, simple and innocent. There was a painting of a sunrise over the great pyramids of Egypt. And there was a map of England with little images of wizards doing various things like shopping in Diagon Alley or being shared by the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmede.
When Oliver had completely and thoroughly explored the living room, he poked his head into Percy’s bedroom. He had not been in there since before they broke up. Percy had not exactly invited him in, but he had also left the door open during Oliver’s visit. Oliver had slept the night before on the couch, and Percy in the bedroom, and neither had discussed the situation of sleeping arrangements. Of course, that had been mostly because Oliver had fallen asleep on the couch before they could discuss it, and Percy hadn’t had the heart to move him.
The room looked strangely the same. The same blankets and sheets on the bed, the same inspirational poster about success on one wall, the same plain dresser and mirror above it. The wall that used to sport a Puddlemere United poster, however, was quite bare.
“hihShahh! huhShhhh!” Oliver sneezed, falling forward a bit weakly, nose pressed into the tissues. The tea, however, had not spilled. Oliver snuffled into the tissues until they were rather used up. He tossed them into the trash can beside Oliver’s bed and attempted to take another couple tissues from the box on Oliver’s nightstand. But, one-handed, he wasn’t able to pull the tissue free from the box as the box came up along with it. Oliver took the tissue, trying to get it free from the box, but the box bumped lightly against the lamp, and against a small wooden box on the nightstand. The wooden box fell to the floor, and the tissue ripped in half.
With a sigh, Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed and went to set the tea down on the nightstand. He hesitated, however, when he realized there was no coaster. And, somehow, Percy would know if he didn’t use a coaster. “Oh hang it all!” Oliver complained, rubbing the half a tissue at his running nose. He headed into the living room, grabbed a coaster off the coffee table, and returned to the bedroom. He set his tea down, and then pulled a few tissues from the box until he had another good handful of them. “heh…” Just in time, in fact. “huh…” Oliver ran a hand through his brown hair, then held the tissues up to his nose with both slightly shaking hands. It was taking its time, but in just a few more seconds, they would strike and be strong. “heh… huh… uhhHUHShhh! Ehshhhh! Ihshhh! ehhShuhh! Kshuhhh!” He blew his nose several times, then he tossed the used tissues away, leaning forward for the trash bin.
As he leaned forward, he saw the box he’d knocked to the ground. Quickly he picked it up and set it back on the nightstand, but the wooden lid was askew. Oliver knew the box well, and knew that he shouldn’t look inside it. It was the box in which Percy kept all his most private mementos. He’d let Oliver see inside it once, when he’d been very sleepy after sex and felt in the mood to share. And then they’d stayed up all night talking about its contents and related memories. Oliver reached out and lifted the lid, intending fully to just put it right back in place. But unconsciously he lifted it too high and his eyes could not tear themselves away in curiosity. He saw a handful of familiar items on top. Percy’s prefect badge, a dragon tooth he’d found once when visiting Charlie in Romania, and the first gold galleon he ever earned. Percy felt a twinge of guilt at knocking these to the floor. He knew he should have been more careful with Percy’s memories at stake. With a deep breath, he held the lid up higher to make sure he hadn’t broken anything within the box. Just below and to the side, which had been out of view a moment before, was an item Oliver had not seen before. It was small, but unmistakable just the same.
A tiny figure in navy blur robes with gold trim was waving its arms in what was actually a rather skillful manner, blocking the hoop it hovered in front of on a broomstick. Hesitantly, Oliver reached down and took up the figure. It was a strange sensation, holding one’s self in one’s hand. It hovered there in front of the hoop, a look of concentration on his face. Oliver wondered if he actually looked so serious when he was playing. Of course, Quidditch was a most serious thing for him, to be sure. But it was also the most exiting and enjoyable thing in the world to him.
And here was Percy, with a little Oliver in his treasure box. Gritting his teeth and wishing he hadn’t looked, he put the figure back and replaced the lid carefully. What did this mean? What else could it mean other than the fact that Percy still cared about him and treasured the time when they’d been together? Maybe it reminded him of the first Quidditch match Oliver had dragged him to see. Or maybe it reminded him of the day after the big win when he and Oliver had made love for the first time. “Or maybe he keeps it around to remember how much it hurt when I broke up with him,” Oliver answered himself with a deep sigh.
He had been forced to do it, though. Oliver had really had no choice. Percy understood that now. They’d talked about it yesterday when Percy invited him over after they’d met in the twins’ joke shop. Percy knew better than anyone how much of an uptight ass he’d been. And he’d been an ass to everyone; that hadn’t been exclusive to Oliver. At the beginning, it had been just his parents, then his whole family, then Dumbledore and Harry Potter and everyone they associated with. And when that happened, Oliver hadn’t been able to offer Percy a place to unload his burdens and find warm arms to cuddle into. No, when that happened, he alienated Oliver as well and Oliver had left. Even a man who never, ever gave up in a Quidditch match knew well when it was time to give up on a relationship.
But Percy had changed. He’d explained about Fudge and You-Know-Who. He’d explained about Umbridge and the ministry. And most of all, he’d explained about all the horrible things he’d done over the course of the year and a half. Things were better now. He’d changed. He’d learned. He’d stopped being afraid of the unknown. He’d stopped fighting to control everything. He’d learned that he didn’t have to be the best all the time, so long as he was doing what was right. Or so he said. Of course, a year and a half ago he’d thought he was doing what was right as well.
“Oh Perce,” Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to think any more. It wasn’t so easy to let a guy like Percy back again. Percy had been strong and controlling. Percy always had to be right about every little thing. Percy always had to have a reason to do anything. And Oliver knew he certainly had his reasons for inviting Oliver over and offering to take care of him when he was in town and sick. “He wants me back,” Oliver whispered, nodding to himself.
A second later, his thoughts vanished. His mental powers were all concentrated upon an oncoming sneeze. He lifted the tissues to his nose and mouth, breathing heavily into them. “hehh… huh… oh come on…” he pleaded with the sneeze. This cold only seemed to get worse as time went on, but Oliver refused to let it play with him. “heh-IHHShhh! ehhHushhh! ihhChuhhh!” He shook his head, snuffling a little, and tossed the tissues away in favor of some fresh ones.
This time, he pulled a few more out, then set the tissue box on his lap as he took his mug of tea in his other hand. Oliver wanted to be sure to drink it while it was still warm, or it wouldn’t do much good and he’d have to go through the trouble of making another and risk possibly burning the place down again.
When he’d gulped the last of it down, he started to feel sleepy again. He tried to remember his train of thought before the tea, and before the sneezes. But all he could remember was seeing that figure of himself in Percy’s box. And all he could think to himself was that he’d kept notes and photos from his time with Percy as well.
With a deep sigh, Oliver set the cup on the nightstand, on the coaster of course, and fell sideways on the bed. He was struck suddenly by the softness and the familiarity. More than anything at all in the whole flat, this bed was Percy, and this comforter and pillow were Percy. In as much as beds and such could be a person. They overwhelmed him with scent and touch and memories. He remembered how the bed bowed a little in the middle, forcing them to snuggle close together. He remembered how many nights they’d stayed up talking, or making love. He remembered how relaxing it was to spend the night over at Percy’s when he didn’t have Quidditch practice the next morning. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night just to watch and listen to Percy sleep.
“Oh, Perce,” Oliver sighed again, shaking his head. He hugged the tissue box to his chest, then reached out and grabbed the other side of the comforter. He folded it over him and snuggled up to its warmth. Before he could think on anything else, he was asleep.
And before he knew it, Percy was hovering over him, calling out to him. Realizing he’d fallen asleep in Percy’s bed, Oliver woke with a start. “It’s okay,” Percy assured him. “I don’t mind. Just wanted to tell you we need to leave now if we’re going to make it to the game on time.”
Oliver shook with a strong yawn and tried to move beneath the comforter. But it was all too heavy and too warm to want to leave so soon. “huh…” He cupped a hand to his nose and mouth. “uhhHushhh! ihhShhhh! Sniff!” He sniffed hard and rubbed at his nose, miserably. And yet, he was still warm and comfy wrapped in the comforter.
“Or we can stay if you’d rather,” Percy offered. Then, realizing how that sounded, he added, “It’s drizzling outside again. Might be better for you just to try and sleep some more.”
For a moment or two, Oliver considered this. It was true. They could just stay inside. Percy could slip beneath the comforter with him and hold him until he felt better, the way it used to be. But things weren’t like how they used to be. At least, not yet. “No, I need to go watch the game,” Oliver insisted. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Just give me a minute to get my shoes and cloak on.”
“I’ll give you five,” Percy said, collecting Oliver’s empty mug and the now slightly squashed tissue box. It seemed that Oliver had rolled onto it sometime as he slept.
Oliver got up and trudged to the living room, pulling on his shoes and stopping to yawn now and again. The yawning irritated his throat, which made him stop to cough as well. Percy walked over and slipped a few tissues into Oliver’s pocket before the man could pull his cloak on. Oliver shivered a little at the touch, but smiled. “Thanks, Perce.”
“Do you want to borrow an extra jumper to stay warm?” asked Percy.
Oliver hesitated, thinking of how it would feel to have a sweater of Percy’s around him, warming him through the whole game as he watched from the stands. Oliver shook his head. “No, thanks though. I’ll just let you put your arms around me if I get chilly. How would that be?”
Percy grinned. “I could do that,” he agreed softly. “Besides, you’d probably stretch out my jumper with those broad shoulders of yours.”
He chuckled and pulled away as Oliver reacted. “Hey now! I’m not that much bigger than you!” And, chuckling, he chased Percy out the door.
:-)
EDIT: Marta just updated today with a lovely picture of Percy (returning his Christmas jumper, if you ask me, though he could just be working). How's that for good timing? :-)
http://www.artdungeon.net/general/template.php?p=percyw
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 03:44 pm (UTC)Awwww...
That was just lovely; the perfect second part to a sweet story!
The little details make this fic...little things like:
Percy always made tea taste so much better. No matter what Oliver did to it, he never managed to get it to taste quite as good.
Sorry this isn't longer; thank you for writing it though!
BVB
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 09:59 pm (UTC)I like to think that, given their occupations, they're quite used to looking at the details. So I don't mind going off so much about them :-) I'm glad they make the story work for you :-)
That part you quoted was a subtle (or not so subtle) nod towards my second Oliver/Percy story 'Promises' in which Oliver tries to make tea while Percy's at work, and Percy finally get annoyed by all the owls and comes home to take care of him.
Oliver: “Mmmm… this tea’s better whed you do it.”
Percy: “I put nearly a half a cup of sugar in it, that’s why.”
So that's where that came from :-)
Thanks again for reading & reviewing! Glad you liked. Poor Olly. He totally wants Percy back... just doesn't want to get hurt again. It's kind of cute to think of my big, rugged Quidditch boyo scared of getting hurt from geeky little Percy of all people *G* He's not the least bit afraid of the big tough Slytherin beaters... but he's afraid the skinny readheaded anal geek's going to hurt him. And yet... he so wants Percy.