|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-08 20:21:00
|Entry tags:||hp fic harry/percy|
HP fic: Truth and Consequences [Harry/Percy, adult]
Title: Truth and Consequences
Warnings: none, really; erotic consumption of food, which is yet not food!smut?
Summary: It happened, Percy would decide much later, because he had chosen Ron as the first brother to tell that he was gay.
Note: Dedicated to emiime, whose fault it is that Percy has eaten my brain.
It happened, Percy would decide much later, because he had chosen Ron as the first brother to tell that he was gay. He had to start with someone, but Bill and Fleur were in France, Charlie in Romania, and the twins... well it just wasn't the sort of thing that he wanted to tell the twins without practicing on someone else first. For the same reason he thought he ought to start with one of his brothers, not his parents. He never even considered Ginny; he planned to tell her eventually, of course, but he still thought of her as his baby sister, not someone to confide in.
So that sort of left Ron as the obvious choice. Percy asked Ron to come round his flat, planning to break the news after dinner, and perhaps a couple of glasses of something alcoholic.
He wasn't sure quite how he expected Ron to react. Perhaps upset or angry; almost certainly with shock or surprise. He never expected Ron to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Percy demanded.
"Sorry, Perce," Ron said, calming down but still grinning. "It's not you that's funny, not exactly. It's just that... well, you're the second person this week to tell me the exact same thing."
"I am?" Percy felt vaguely insulted. Here he was baring his soul to Ron, only to find that it was nothing new to him. "Who else?"
Ron hesitated, then shrugged. "He didn't tell me I had to keep it a secret, and under the circumstances I shouldn't think he'd mind you knowing. It's Harry. Funny, that. I mean, he wasn't as unhappy as I'd have expected when Ginny broke it off for good, but I wouldn't've guessed he was a poof. Sorry. That he was gay."
Percy nodded. "I can understand that." He didn't really know Harry very well; there had been too many years between them to have been friends in school and since then he had mostly seen Harry in the bustle of Weasley family holiday celebrations. But what Ron said reminded Percy, a little uncomfortably, of how he himself had acted when he and Penny broke off.
"So anyway, having just heard the big secret from Harry, it was weird to hear it from you, too, you see." Ron poured himself another glass of wine. "So, are you seeing someone? Is that why you wanted to tell me, because you want to bring someone to the Burrow this Christmas?"
"No," said Percy, shaking his head. "There isn't anyone in my life just now, but when there is it'll be another bloke. I decided it might be best to let the family get used to the idea and you were the one I wanted to tell first. I'm not sure how I'll explain it to Dad and Mum, or when."
"Fair enough," said Ron. "If you want to talk to me about it, you can. I mean, when you are seeing anyone. Hey, I know. You and Harry could get together." He laughed. "I'm just joking, you know that. Just because you both like men doesn't mean you'd be interested in each other."
Percy laughed and agreed with him, but the knowledge that Harry was gay, too, stayed with him after Ron had pounded him on the back and taken the Floo back home at the end of the evening.
A couple of weeks later, after a good deal of thought, Percy sent Harry a note. He felt slightly guilty about doing so using Ministry delivery, but he did at least send it over the lunch hour and not when he ought to be working.
Would you like to have a drink sometime?
He was delighted when he received an answer less than an hour later:
Would tonight be all right for you? I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron at half past six.
Percy's pulse quickened as he strode towards the Leaky, pushing through the door at precisely 6:29. He saw Harry near the back of the room, a drink on the table before him, and stopped at the bar himself before walking over.
"Hello, Harry," he said, sitting down and taking a sip from his Butterbeer.
"Hello. What's up?" Harry's eyes were guileless over the rim of his glass as he sipped, as if it were an everyday thing for Percy to have asked him out.
Suddenly Percy didn't want to play games, not even for the sake of flirting. "Ron told me," he said bluntly. "That you're gay, too."
"Too?" Harry's eyebrows went up. "I see. He didn't return the favor, but I can't say I'm entirely surprised." He licked his lips and grinned. "Except for the surprise that you asked me here. I wouldn't have thought I was your type at all."
"I don't think I have a type," Percy said. "It's a bit hard to tell, given that this is still rather new to me. I haven't, er, been 'out' as I believe the phrase is, for very long."
"Me, either." Harry reached across the table with his left hand and picked up Percy's, sliding their fingers together.
Percy held back a gasp. He wasn't used to being around anyone who touched him so easily, not since he'd left home and the rough-and-tumble of his brothers. The men he had seen had, all three of them, been much like himself; not terribly comfortable with physical demonstrations of affection except in the context of sex. He was moved that Harry felt at ease enough with him to do that.
"D'you want to get something to eat here?" Harry asked. "The food's not up to your mother's standard, of course, but it's not bad. I'm here a couple of times a week." His smile was a twist of the lips. "It's a bit lonely eating by myself in my flat every night."
"I'd like that," said Percy. He didn't mind eating alone, himself, but having someone to converse with during the meal would be nice for a change.
They stayed, talking and laughing and then drinking Butterbeers until nearly 11 o'clock; perhaps not so late in an absolute sense but far later than Percy was accustomed to being out, particularly on a weeknight. He knew that he would be in less than top form tomorrow at work, but somehow he didn't mind.
On their way out, Harry said, "I really enjoyed this. Maybe we could do it again? Perhaps Friday?" He looked up at Percy, his breath a plume of steam in the chilly December air.
"Friday would be good," Percy agreed. "Here again?"
Harry tilted his head, peering through his spectacles. It gave him an oddly formal look, rather like old Professor McGonagall. "Why don't we meet by the fountain in the Ministry lobby? I know of a place that has good food; I think you'll like it, but it would be easier to go there together."
"Till Friday, then." Percy watched for a moment as Harry walked away, then turned and went home to his own flat.
He was standing next to the fountain at four minutes after five on Friday afternoon, having – for once in his life – not finished reading through the set of files he needed to be familiar with for a Monday meeting. He did, however, have them in his briefcase to peruse over the weekend. Where was Harry? As far as Percy knew he should have finished at five, too.
Harry had come up from behind him, touching his arm for a second. "Ready?"
Warmth seemed to linger where Harry's fingers had been. Percy nodded, a little dazed. "Where did you want to go?"
"There's a rather good Indian takeaway near my flat, if you like Indian. And if you don't mind not actually going out."
"No. I haven't eaten much Indian food but it's fine. Except, er..."
"I don't have any Muggle money, I'm afraid," Percy confessed. Not with him, anyhow. He did go to Muggle establishments on occasion, but never on the spur of the moment like this.
"Oh, that's no trouble. You can pay me back later, or just pay the next time we go out."
And that statement made Percy's stomach give a lurch, even as Harry said, "Come on, it's close enough that there's no point in Apparating. Let's walk; I need the exercise anyhow."
When they reached the restaurant, Harry suggested that Percy let him order. "You're not one for really hot spices, are you? Good, neither am I."
The parcels smelled delicious as they hurried in the crisp air the short distance to Harry's flat, and Percy's mouth watered.
"Far more than we can eat tonight, but I like to have leftovers. Besides, this way you can try a few different things. The dal is great, it has toasted cumin in it, and the shrimp in coconut milk is really mild. If you want something a bit spicier try the chicken." Harry indicated a container with various lumps and chunks in a red-brown sauce. "There's plenty of rice and naan, and raita to cool things down, too. I have some chutney in the fridge."
He put plates out on the table, shoving aside a stack of old copies of Which Broomstick, and Percy sat down on the chair that was obviously not Harry's usual one.
"This is wonderful," he said after a few mouthfuls.
"Do you think so?" Harry looked pleased. "It's one of my favorite places; I don't bother to cook for myself often, either get takeaway or sometimes go to the Leaky, like I told you Monday."
"Oh yes." Percy closed his eyes for an instant, the unfamiliar combinations of flavors seeming to explode on his tongue, though as Harry had promised nothing was too hot or sharp for him to enjoy.
Once the edge was off his appetite – he had skipped lunch that day, trying to catch up on some work – he leaned back and slowed down, watching Harry between bites.
"I was wondering," he said finally.
"Wondering what?" Harry had a dab of yogurt on his cheek; Percy had an urge to reach over and wipe it off with his finger. He didn't, of course.
"Um. From what Ron said, which wasn't much really, I rather wondered how you figured out that you were gay. How long you'd known. It took me years to realize, you see, and then quite a while after that before I did anything about it, or told anyone." Percy knew that he was blushing. He took another bite of the spicy chicken and hoped that Harry would attribute the redness of his face to the food.
Harry's eyes went wide behind his spectacles. "Quite the question."
"You needn't answer if you don't want to," said Percy hastily. "I just... I haven't really had anyone to talk to about this, not someone I knew from before and who's gay too."
Not that he and Harry had ever been close friends, or anything, not with the age difference between them, and working now for different departments in the Ministry. But Harry had stayed at the Burrow on various occasions over the years, and Percy had always felt comfortable around him as Ron's best friend.
"Oh, I don't mind. It just might be a bit too complicated to talk about while we're eating, that's all."
Percy felt a smile creep onto his face. "After, then. Er... so, tell me about what you're doing in the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad?"
"Actually, I've transferred out." Harry grinned. "Only recently, and I haven't made a big deal about it. But I've finally decided to give Auror training a try; that was always my goal, back in school, but for a long time after the war I just didn't want to do anything that seemed related to the fighting. Too many bad memories."
"I understand," Percy said with fervor. He had plenty of bad war memories himself, although his worst ones had to do with his estrangement from his family, necessary though it had been at the time. "But that's great, Harry. I think you'll do really well as an Auror."
"If I can make it through the training program! Tonks was telling me all sorts of terrifying stories. All I can do is try, though. If I don't make it I can go back to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. They were disappointed to see me go."
They continued to talk about Ministry doings as they finished the meal. Harry let Percy help clean up – not that there was very much to do except put the leftovers away and clear the plates from the table, but it felt comfortable being able to help him, rather like being back at home when he was young and he and all his siblings had had specific tasks assigned.
"Drink?" Harry asked. "I've some lager; that always seems to go best with Indian, even afterward."
"Sounds good to me." Percy took the glass from Harry and sipped so that he wouldn't spill it as he followed Harry into the living room.
Harry sat at one end of the dusty-blue sofa. The two comfortable-looking chairs in the room were rather far away, so Percy sat at the end opposite Harry, a little nervously.
"Right, then. How did I realize? Well... I can't say I always knew, because I didn't. You heard about me and Ginny."
Percy nodded slowly.
"Yeah." Harry's mouth tightened and he took a long gulp from his beer. "I mean, we're all right now, but it was a pretty bad situation for a while. I broke up with her at the end of my sixth year because I didn't want to risk her being used as leverage against me. Afterward, though, I was jealous when she saw other people. But when it was all over, and we started seeing each other again, I didn't really want her but wouldn't let her go, and I think she felt the same way – it was a matter of pride that we could make it work. Stupid of us.
Anyhow. During the war, I decided that it would be okay to mess around with... with another boy, less dangerous for him because who'd believe it was serious and that going after him would really hurt me? And... well." His cheeks were red. "Only it meant more with him than I wanted it to, or would admit to myself."
Percy very much wanted to ask who it was that Harry had been involved with, but Harry seemed not to want to say. He kept quiet and Harry went on.
"So... since I wouldn't be serious about it when the fighting was over, that was the end of that, and then I was back with Ginny. When we finally broke up for good was when I really realized that maybe it wasn't just that she wasn't the right person for me, but I didn't want to be with a girl at all. It took me a while to accept it completely though. So I, you know, saw a few blokes, but it was only recently that I felt like I was sure enough to tell Ron."
Listening to Harry was almost like hearing his own history. Not identical, of course; Percy had not done the same kind of wartime experimentation, and his relationship with Penny had come to a less stormy end, but it had been a slow realization that he fancied men more than women, and one that had taken a long time for him to admit. It went against almost everything he had ever planned for his life, for one thing.
He realized that he was staring at Harry and hadn't said a word. "I see," he said quickly. "That's... not too different from what happened with me, in some ways."
"Yeah?" Harry looked curious. "How did you realize?"
"I didn't do any... experimenting, the way you did. When Penny and I split up, I didn't seem to have any interest in seeing anyone. I was only considering women at that point, you understand, and there weren't any who attracted me. I let myself be set up on a few blind dates, but nothing. And then one day..." Percy broke off and looked down into his half-empty glass.
"One day?" Harry prompted.
"I found myself checking out the wizard standing next to me in the Ministry loo," Percy muttered, keeping his head down. "And I was... excited." He'd been terribly embarrassed, completely unable to urinate until the other man had finished and left, and he'd actually gone into a stall and wanked. He hadn't done that in a public place, ever, and in fact he rarely masturbated even at home. Sex simply wasn't that big a part of his life, hadn't been since his adolescence
"Oh, I see," said Harry, his voice sympathetic. "That must have been difficult."
"You could say that, yes."
"So what did you do after you realized?"
"I'd heard about a couple of places where gay wizards were supposed to be welcome. That night club, Charon, for instance. Not really my kind of venue, but I went there a few times." It had been a learning experience anyhow. "I met Angus there, and he showed me some other places that were more... congenial, while we were seeing each other."
Thankfully Percy had not mistaken his physical attraction to Angus – a dark-haired Scot – for anything more, and when Angus took a position working for a De-Gnoming business and moved to Birmingham, Percy had said goodbye to him with a clear conscience.
Harry was nodding. "Yeah. If you don't already know where to go, how to meet other blokes, it's tough. Especially if you prefer to stick with wizards. I did a bit of looking in the Muggle world, but I hated having to pretend I was something I'm not, make up all kinds of things about myself if we got any further than a casual shag."
"I haven't been with any Muggles," said Percy.
"Let's just say that there are other benefits to magic, too." Harry grinned at him. "Like cleansing charms, and lubricating charms if you've forgotten to pick up the necessary."
Percy chuckled a little diffidently, and took another drink. His glass was empty and Harry jumped up.
"I'm being a bad host. Another lager? It's Friday," he added persuasively when Percy began to shake his head.
"Oh, all right." The beer had tasted good, and it was the weekend.
He watched Harry go back into the kitchen. He had a rather nice arse, Percy noticed. How had he not realized it before? Because he hadn't known that Harry was queer, that's how, and there was something questionable in Percy's mind about paying too much attention to the arse of someone who'd not be interested back.
"Here you go."
Percy jumped and took the refilled glass, sipping at it. "Thanks."
Settling back onto the sofa, not quite all the way to the far end this time, Harry kicked off his shoes and curled his legs up.
"Feel free, if you want," he said, and nodded at Percy's feet.
"No, I'm fine."
There was a pause, not an uncomfortable one. Percy pushed his glasses up and turned his head toward Harry, who was smiling.
"I'd offer you a bit of a massage, but you might think I was just trying to be sneaky with a come-on."
"Not if you said you weren't."
"Well... I can't quite say that, I'm afraid." Harry had a serious expression on his face. "But if I tell you I'm being sneaky, then it's not really sneaky, is it?"
"Er. No, I suppose not," said Percy, a little bewildered.
"So put your drink down and turn around and I'll rub your neck, all right? I used to do this for Ron and Hermione, when we'd been studying for a long time and they'd do it for me; it feels nice."
It did feel nice. Harry's fingers were cool and damp at first from having held his glass of lager, but they warmed up quickly.
"If you'd undo a couple of buttons and loosen your tie it'd be better," Harry murmured.
This was a come-on, Percy was sure, but he went ahead. Between the good meal and the beer and the relief at having someone who understood his situation, it was easier just to relax and let Harry do whatever he wanted.
He jerked, his head bumping into Harry. "Wasn' asleep."
"No, of course not." Harry's voice soothed him. The room was darker than Percy remembered, but Harry was still touching him, slow gentle strokes over his neck and the muscles at the top of his shoulders.
"What time is it?"
"Maybe eleven or so."
He had been asleep. Sitting up, leaning against the back of the sofa, with Harry rubbing his neck, he'd actually fallen asleep. Maybe Harry hadn't noticed... or at least he didn't seem to mind.
"I should go." Percy was suddenly aware of his muscles tightening again under Harry's fingers.
"If that's what you want, Perce."
Hearing the affection in Harry's use of the nickname, Percy relaxed a bit once more.
"It's not that I..." he began.
Harry reached around and put a finger on Percy's lips. "It's okay. Really." His hands dropped away, and Percy turned so that he could see Harry's face.
"Although if you wanted a good-night kiss, I'd be happy to oblige." Harry winked.
Percy ran his tongue quickly around his teeth. Remnants of curry and beer, but not too bad, and Harry could hardly complain. "All right."
The kiss Harry gave him was soft and warm, just barely open-mouthed, undemanding. He stopped before Percy was quite ready for it to end.
"I'll owl you tomorrow or Sunday, if that's okay?" Harry asked, standing and holding out a hand to help Percy up.
"Oh. Yes, of course." The smile came unbidden to his face. "This was a lovely evening, Harry. Thank you."
Harry touched his cheek once more as Percy was about to walk out. "I enjoyed it too, you know. Goodnight."
Late on Saturday afternoon Percy was going through his weekly housekeeping routine, casting various cleaning charms in the bath, when he heard tapping at the glass. He opened the window and a snowy owl hopped in, one that he recognized as Harry's. Hedwig, that was her name.
Percy untied the message from Hedwig's leg. "Have an Owl Treat," he told her, and put two into the dish under Hermes' perch. Hermes opened one eye, hooted sleepily, and snatched up the second treat as Hedwig stretched out her beak to take hers.
I expect you're probably going to go to the Burrow for Sunday dinner tomorrow, but perhaps we could have supper in the evening? Or maybe sometime later next week, if tomorrow's too busy for you?
Percy turned the parchment over, intending to write his reply sensibly on the back of it. He had dipped the quill into the inkpot when he decided to use a fresh sheet instead. Harry was correct that Percy would be at the Burrow on Sunday, and usually he gave in to his mother's urging to stay through the evening, but it was certainly not something he had to do, if he had a prior engagement. A date – or whatever it might be called – with Harry would constitute sufficient reason to leave.
I'd like to have supper together tomorrow night. Would 6 o'clock at my flat suit? I'll expect you then unless you let me know otherwise. I'm on the Floo network.
He frowned. It felt a little stilted, but he didn't want to take anything for granted. Harry had seemed flirtatious last night, yes, but he'd also said that he'd given back rubs to Ron and Hermione, so it didn't necessarily mean anything much. On the other hand, that good-night kiss had been rather more serious.
"Here, Hedwig," he said briskly, rolling up the note and tying it to her leg. Her amber eyes blinked at him. "Thank you." As soon as he had opened the window again, she hopped to the sill and flew away.
Now that he'd replied, Percy frowned to himself. What could he have for supper with Harry? He was an adequate cook, no more, but he wanted to make the meal himself, not bring in takeaway. It had to be something that was quick and undemanding, or else that he could prepare ahead of time, either tonight or in the morning before he went to his parents'. Percy went to his fridge and peered inside. Not much there, which meant that whatever he made he'd have to go to the shops now before they closed. He leafed through a cookbook of easy recipes that Penny had given him once, listing the ingredients for several possibilities, then hurried out.
An hour later he returned, laden with carrier bags. He could cook the squash dish tonight, make salad in the morning, and then broil the chops and reheat the squash tomorrow when Harry arrived. He hoped Harry liked lamb.
Nibbling at some pasta with tomatoes and olives that he'd bought for his own dinner – it was really quite tasty although a bit on the oily side – Percy was thankful that he'd learned a charm from his mother to peel squash. He couldn't imagine how Muggles managed using a knife on that tough skin. The apples only needed to be chopped, then all of it tossed with melted butter and walnuts.
He slid the baking tin into the oven and noted the time. Forty minutes, then take it out and stir in the currants; that was easy enough.
As he waited, finishing his pasta meanwhile, he thought about the past week. Harry was clearly interested, and Percy couldn't deny that he was, too. He hadn't really intended that. When he'd made his little speech to Ron and learned that Harry was gay as well, he'd just had a few thoughts that it would be nice to be able to talk about some of the ups and downs of being gay in the wizarding world with one of his brother's good friends, someone he could trust. Given that Harry had become noticeably publicity-shy in the past few years, Percy had known he wouldn't have to worry about Harry kissing and telling.
But now... it wasn't that Harry was trying to rush anything. The first time Percy had been to Charon – before he met Angus – he'd found himself with someone's tongue halfway down his throat before the evening was over, although he had escaped with his putative virtue intact, that night. Whereas Harry... Percy shivered, remembering the kiss Harry had given him. He glanced at the clock again and went to put on a cardigan.
The squash smelled delicious when he took it out, and he forked up a piece, casting a cooling charm on it before he took a bite. It tasted just as good as it smelled, as good as anything his mother made, he thought. He spooned the rest into a dish and covered it before putting it away in the fridge.
Before he went to bed, he took a final look around the flat. He wouldn't have time to do much tomorrow, not going to the Burrow for a good bit of the day. A picture or two seemed crooked, and he carefully straightened them, stepping back to the far side of the room and cocking his head to either side to make sure that they were properly aligned. Since he had just been cleaning that day before Harry's note arrived, he didn't need to fuss about that. Even the sheets on the bed had been freshly changed. Blushing at the thought that he was concerned for sheet-freshness on Harry's possible account, Percy hastily washed his face, cleaned his teeth, and put on his favorite pair of flannel pyjamas before climbing into bed.
Sunday at the Burrow was very much as usual; four of the seven siblings were there, all but Percy complete with assorted spouses, significant others, and children, and Percy's mum beaming at them all as she loaded the table with food.
"Can you stay for supper, dear?" Molly asked as she passed him a huge dish of sprouts. He took a restrained helping.
"Not tonight. I have some other plans," he said, deliberately evasive. He didn't want to say that Harry was dropping by that evening, not with Ron across the table with his mouth twitching in a knowing half-grin, but he didn't want to actually lie, either. "You know I always have more work than I can keep up with."
Which was true, and the comment diverted her to a lament about how the Ministry always did overwork its employees, just look at his father – although Arthur, at the far end of the table, scarcely appeared to be suffering and indeed had always been quite happy in his job, as best as Percy could remember.
At promptly half-past four, Percy kissed his various nieces and nephews (those that were immediately visible; he didn't worry about chasing down the ones outside playing in the dusky garden), hugged his mother, and Flooed with some relief back to his own flat. He hadn't had a note from Harry that morning to change their plan, so he made the salad, and then it was just warming up the bread and the squash and getting the lamb ready to broil. He set the table and belatedly thought that perhaps he ought to put on different clothes. Ron's young Alexandra had spit up on Percy's shoulder, and he wasn't sure if Molly's cleaning charm had quite done the trick. Had Hermione cast it, he wouldn't have worried, but his mum had coped with so many children that she didn't care much about such things any more and was often half-hearted about it.
He turned his head to sniff at the spot doubtfully. Hm. He couldn't tell, over the smells of food, but was about to go and change when he head the thump of the Floo – Harry, nearly ten minutes early. Percy hurried into the other room.
"Sorry, I know I'm early," said Harry with a rueful grin, handing Percy a bottle. "I... well, I'd been flying, and was afraid I'd be late, so then I hurried and was ready ahead of time and I... didn't want to wait."
Percy bit his lip, saw Harry looking at him as he did so, and stopped. He could feel his face warming. "It's fine. Er. Would you like to see the flat?"
Setting the wine bottle down, he showed Harry around, which took all of five minutes, including the pause when he decided to actually go into the bedroom so that he could show Harry the wall sculpture of a dragon in flight that Charlie had sent him two Christmases ago.
"The five-Knut tour," Harry joked when it was over and they'd gone into the kitchen. "But really, Perce, it's a very nice place; seems to suit you well."
"It does," Percy said. "Here, let me turn on the gas – everything's mostly ready, but I have to broil the chops yet."
"Shall I open the wine and pour us a glass?"
Something in the way Harry asked the question made Percy straighten from the stove and look over at him. Harry had been leaning against the doorframe, but when Percy moved, Harry came over and put a hand on his arm. Percy swallowed.
"That would be... yes, thanks."
Harry smiled. "Do you have a corkscrew? I learned to open bottles the Muggle way first."
As it happened, Percy did have one (given him by his father) and he watched Harry's wrists and hands move dextrously, cutting off the foil, screwing the twist of metal into the cork, pulling it out with a dull pop.
"Use the ones that are on the table already."
"To... friendship?" Harry handed Percy a filled glass, lifted his own questioningly.
"Yes. To friendship." Percy cleared his throat and sipped. "That's very good." In fact, he hadn't had better in a long time. Not that he was a connoisseur, certainly, but he drank wine often enough to know good from decent from plonk.
"Thanks." Harry's cheeks were slightly flushed, from the wine or the heat of the kitchen Percy wasn't sure.
The heat. Oh. The oven was hot. He put the chops on the broiling pan and put them under the gas. "Only a few minutes."
"It's fine, I'm not starving."
"After flying all afternoon?" Percy was a little skeptical. His brothers had always professed to be ravenous after that.
"Oh, I'll be quite happy to eat, but I can wait for something that's bound to be delicious." Harry drank again, his tongue darting out to lick up a stray drop at the corner of his mouth.
Percy dragged his eyes away from the sight. He turned the chops over and pushed them back to finish. Squash, bread, salad, everything else was ready. With a slightly unsteady gait he brushed past Harry to put his glass down on the table, then returned.
"Go ahead and sit down while I take these out," he said, pulling a platter out of the cupboard and piling the chops onto it. He'd been sure to get plenty; cold lamb made a good sandwich, or if there were enough left he could mince the meat and cook a shepherd's pie. He certainly wasn't about to risk a guest being hungry.
"It all looks marvelous," Harry told Percy as he sat and passed the platter. "I used to have to cook for my aunt and uncle, d'you know? One thing that put me off doing it for myself." Harry paused and his lips twitched. He took two chops, hesitated, then added a third before giving them back to Percy and reaching for the dish of squash and apples.
"It's more enjoyable to cook for someone else, I think," replied Percy thoughtfully. "As long as the other person appreciates it."
"Which I do," said Harry, flashing a smile. "But they didn't. So." He took a bite of lamb, then squash. "God, Percy, this is wonderful. Really. You didn't have to go to all the trouble..."
"No trouble, really." Percy ate a few bites himself. It was good, and Harry's wine complemented the food well. So rare to have that happen with a guest-gift. "I'm glad you like everything."
"Very much indeed." Harry's eyes were half-closed as he chewed. "I haven't had anything so good since..."
"Since the last time you were at the Burrow?"
Harry opened his eyes. "I've never had a meal like this at the Burrow." He put down his knife and fork and reached for Percy's hand. "Never."
Percy let go his fork and awkwardly threaded his fingers through Harry's. They squeezed tightly, just for an instant.
"It's too good to let it go to waste." Harry let go, but rather than take another bite himself, he picked up Percy's fork with its uneaten morsel of lamb and lifted it to Percy's lips.
"Harry," Percy wasn't sure if it was a protest or plea he would have made, because as he opened his mouth to speak, Harry eased the fork closer so that he had no choice but to eat.
It embarrassed him to have Harry watching so intently as he chewed. Percy swallowed, almost too hastily – for a second he thought the meat would catch in his throat. He worried Harry might try to feed him again, and this time he would choke.
"Now you." He leaned over to take up Harry's fork, stabbing a cube of squash. Harry's hand caught his as he lifted it, holding the bite at his mouth.
Percy had never realized how amazingly erotic it could be to see someone eat. Harry licked at the browned corner of the squash before he opened his lips wider to let it slip inside, his hand still steady on Percy's, withdrawing the fork as he began to chew. Percy couldn't look away from those wine-reddened lips, the dark shadow of Harry's beard on lip and cheek and chin. Harry's spectacles had slipped down his nose, and absently Percy pushed his own up, though they didn't need it.
"We should finish," he said when Harry had swallowed. His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears.
"I'd love to finish this... with you." The words were a little trite perhaps, a little forced, but the tone, the expression on Harry's face, everything about him underscored the sincerity of the sentiment. "If that's what you want too?"
Percy opened his mouth, closed it.
Harry was waiting, the beginning of disappointment shadowing his face. Percy tried to breathe.
Then Harry was looking at him with a fierce joy, tugging at his hand so that they stood up together. Harry's arms wrapped around Percy's waist, his head tilted up so that their mouths met, tasting of the meal that Percy had cooked, of the wine Harry had brought, of themselves – and that last, Percy thought, was what mattered.
He broke away, breathless, his glasses askew and beginning to fog up. "Maybe..."
"Bedroom," Harry muttered, and with every step in that direction he was tugging at some piece of Percy's clothing, so that by the time they reached the bed Percy's trousers were half-falling off his hips, his shirt lost somewhere in the hallway, his vest rucked up with Harry trying desperately to pull it the rest of the way off.
"Wait," said Percy, suddenly needing to take charge – and Harry stilled, green eyes fixed on Percy, waiting. It was amazingly erotic to see him so clearly willing to do whatever Percy might want.
Percy reached out, carefully removed Harry's glasses, and put them with his own on the table by the bed. Harry blinked under his dark fringe as Percy undressed him, bit by bit, running his fingers over each inch of skin that he uncovered. Harry obviously didn't just fly on the weekends – he had muscles on his torso that he never acquired on a broomstick, thought Percy in admiration.
When Harry was completely naked, Percy stepped back to look at him. Harry flushed.
"Um. Aren't you going to get undressed too?" His hands moved nervously on his thighs, as if he wanted to hide his gorgeous prick from Percy's gaze.
"Yes." With a last glance, Percy flicked his wand to dim the lights before he began to pull off the rest of his own already-loosened clothing. Compared with Harry – well, with anyone really – he was nothing special to look at, and he knew it. He did pause long enough to lay his trousers across the chair before he pressed himself to Harry's warm skin and bore them both down onto the neatly-made bed.
Harry seemed content to let Percy take the lead, now that he'd managed to get them into the bedroom. He arched up and moaned when Percy bent his head to bite at Harry's neck, the hollow of his collarbone, the firm muscle of his chest. Percy put a finger to Harry's mouth, and Harry sucked it in immediately, lapping it with his tongue until Percy withdrew and traced a circle of wetness around the hollow of Harry's navel.
"What do you want, Harry?"
Even in the dimness Harry's eyes were visibly green, though the pupils nearly swallowed up the irises. "Anything. Everything. We don't have to... I mean, you're not thinking this is just once, are you?" He sounded younger than he was, unsure.
Percy shook his head and shifted so that he was lying next to Harry, the lengths of their bodies pressed together. Harry rolled to face him and they kissed again, gently this time, with long slow movements of lips and tongues, hands cradling cheeks and jaws.
"Not just once," Percy breathed in Harry's ear. "I couldn't stop at once, not with you."
"Me, either." Harry licked a line along Percy's neck. "I want to suck you," he said against Percy's skin. Without waiting for an answer, he began to move down Percy's body. He kissed and licked and nibbled at what seemed to be every individual freckle between Percy's neck and his prick, until Percy was writhing, desperate for Harry to close his mouth around him.
When he finally did, the wait was worth it. Hot and wet and oh Merlin he could feel the head of his cock practically in Harry's throat, and he moaned and Harry moaned back so that the vibrations sent thrills sparking through every nerve in his body. Percy looked down at Harry and saw those green eyes looking back at him, shining with excitement, those reddened lips sealed around his cock as Harry worked him, and it was all so unexpected, so overwhelmingly sensual that Percy for once gave himself up to it. He felt his balls tightening and touched Harry's head, pulling gently at his hair in a warning that he could not articulate the words to make, but Harry just sucked harder, his tongue moving in delicious circles. Percy could only let it happen and spill himself into Harry's throat, gasping and clutching at Harry as he did.
Harry stayed there until it was clear that Percy had finished, licking up and swallowing every drop before slithering back up to put his face alongside Percy's once again. Percy kissed him. The flavor of himself in Harry's mouth was strong, but he didn't mind at all.
"Do you want me to...?" Percy broke off as Harry shook his head.
"Just touch me, please..."
His cock was hot, the skin dry except for the head, where a few drops had oozed out of the slit. Percy rubbed his thumb over it, curling his other fingers around the pulsing shaft, and Harry gasped.
"Oh god yes, like that, wanna feel you, please yes," Harry babbled as Percy stroked him. "Thought about this, wanted you so much, ever since, oh god yes, need you so bad..."
With a whimper, Harry moved his head until his lips found Percy's, tangled dark lashes lowering to hide his eyes. He kissed Percy greedily, as if making up for their not-quite-finished dinner, and Percy thought that he had never felt anything so fine in his life as when Harry came in his hand.
They were both sweating, Harry panting with the aftermath of orgasm as he wrapped an arm around Percy.
"How long have you thought about this?" Percy asked. Harry ducked his head against Percy's shoulder, evidently embarrassed.
"Quite a while," he mumbled.
"What, a few days? Weeks?"
"Um... let's just say, for some time before I found out there was any possibility you could be interested."
Percy held Harry a little tighter at that, not even minding the stickiness of sweat and semen drying on both their skins, and doubtless on the duvet as well. "I'm amazed. Really; I'd never have guessed."
Harry raised his head a little. "You were always so, I don't know, self-contained I suppose? It made me wonder whether you were like that all the way through, or whether you might not have a bit of a wild side somewhere. And, well, I admired the sacrifices you made during the war. Being cut off from your family and all. It meant we had something in common, in a way."
"I see. I suppose I am rather 'self-contained,' as you put it. I have to say that I didn't entertain any fantasies about you until Ron told me. Maybe I'm too practical for that kind of thing; I've always tended to be interested in people who seemed likely to be interested back."
Laughing, Harry said, "Does that mean that since you found out I was gay you've been fantasizing about me?"
"Yes," Percy admitted, "but I have to say that the real thing is far better."
"I have to agree," said Harry, kissing Percy once more.