Title: How Percy Weasley Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Cock
Author: emiime
Characters: Percy Weasley/Anthony Goldstein
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Kinks chosen: Bisexuality (um, sort of?)
Word Count: 1436
Summary: Percy likes women very much, thank you, except that he totally doesn't.
Author's notes: I truly apologize for that title. Wow.

Percy had never had boys, as in, a night at the pub with the boys. But then again he didn't have a wife to say wife-type things like that, and when he got home he never had to explain to anyone where he'd been, but he never went anywhere anyway so it didn't matter after all.

But Percy found Anthony Goldstein interesting enough that he thought he might want boys, or at least this one boy, except not want because that implied, well…something that Percy didn't want. Really. Because to the world Percy was a heterosexual man, completely normal in every way, and sometimes to himself he admitted he might possibly be bisexual, which was easier than facing the truth when he looked at people like Anthony. He could allow himself his little deviations as long as he could still cling to the hope of normalcy.

And apparently Anthony found him interesting enough, too, and Anthony didn't have anyone to go home to, either, to ask him where he'd been or anything like that. And so they went out. (But not went out, just, well, went places, together, like some of the smaller, quieter Muggle pubs where they wouldn't be noticed or bothered or anything like that. Places where they could talk.)

And they drank a little beer, yes, and everything was fine, and then the pub dates (not dates, just going places together after work, but not together, just, being in the same place at the same time because they were definitely not together for all that that implied) turned into dinner dates (not dates, just, well, there really wasn't a better word for it, was there?) and then, one night, Anthony invited Percy back to his flat (there was a book Percy wanted to borrow and then he was going to go directly home, really, because if he stayed for a drink or something that would just be weird).

Except then Percy did stay for a drink, because Anthony offered and it would have been rude to refuse and just take the book and go home, no matter how badly he actually just wanted to go home and read it, and so Percy watched Anthony open a bottle of wine and put on the radio, and they sat on the sofa and Anthony curled up and kicked off his shoes and when he took off his glasses to rub his eyes, Percy marvelled at the dark smudge of lashes there and immediately chastised himself for doing so.

Because even if Percy were that way, Anthony surely wasn't. And so Percy stumbled to his feet and set down his half-drunk glass of red wine and said he had to be going now, he had somewhere he needed to be, and thank you very much for the lovely evening and god that sounded like something one said at the end of a date.

And Anthony laughed and he stood, too, wiping his hands on the arse (the nice arse, stop that) of his corduroy trousers and said that if what Percy said was actually true then it was all right and he'd see Percy at work on Monday but if Percy didn't have anywhere else to be tonight, why not stay a little longer?

Percy didn't exactly know what to say to that so he just stood there and thought about how nice the wine and the conversation and the music had all been, and at some point while he was thinking Anthony got very close and placed a hand on Percy's arm, curling his fingers and feeling, and Percy jumped at the unexpected contact.

He shook his head and started to tell Anthony that he wasn't that way but then something inside his brain kicked him and informed him in no uncertain terms that Anthony obviously was and so maybe, maybe it was okay to admit just a little bit of what went on inside his head sometimes. But not the nice arse part, as that could be saved for later. If there was a later which there might not be and that would be fine but in the present Anthony had turned his face upwards and was smiling with hope in his eyes and Percy sighed and leant down and kissed him.

And things exploded in his brain and Percy pushed them aside for the moment because oh god, he was kissing Anthony, Anthony of the smudgy eyelashes and the nice arse and the pink pink lips oh god.

And when they fell together onto the sofa, Percy thought he should explain a few things (Number One I am not a homosexual Number Two fine all right I'm bisexual but Number Three I really do like women very much, thank you and Number Four oh sod all and kiss me again I'll be whatever you want me to be if you just kiss me like that again and oh).

Oh, Anthony's hand was in his pants, then, and all memory of anything that was not entirely homosexual was gone, because Anthony knew, somehow, exactly how to touch Percy and they began rutting together and god there were too many clothes.

And one of them managed to say bedroom though Percy never remembered which (he hoped it was Anthony but he couldn't be certain) and so they went, tripping and clutching at unfastened clothes, and they fell onto Anthony's bed together and Percy decided the sheets must be about five thousand thread count because nothing ever, ever felt this good before.

Percy was hopelessly and gloriously homosexual (no more lies to hide behind; didn't Bill once say that bisexuals were people who couldn't make up their minds and what the hell are you doing in my head right now Bill get out get out get out) by the time Anthony had those pink pink lips wrapped around Percy's impossibly hard cock, and there was no acting dignified anymore when Anthony ran his fingertips over Percy's balls, stroking the tender skin there.

And then there was a finger on his arsehole and Percy jumped and jerked away and clutched the sheet to himself like a virgin bride and after a moment of babbling on both their parts there was laughter and the decision to take it slower, and they took deep breaths and began to explore, because as Anthony reminded him, they had all night.

(Percy hoped there was more to it; they way he saw it, they had all weekend, at least, but maybe those were the sort of things best discussed later.)

And later could wait because there was so much to explore right now, all of Anthony's body to kiss and touch and kiss some more, and there was Anthony's mouth asking between kisses if Percy had ever done this before, and there was the slightest hesitation before Percy said no, but show me.

And Anthony did, and while he did, Percy realised that the comfort wasn't coming from the sheets at all (though they were a gorgeously high thread count), but from somewhere inside himself, from something he'd discarded and from something he'd found, and when he came in Anthony's mouth (sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean to—) he was tense again for a moment but Anthony kissed him hard and Percy could taste himself on Anthony's tongue and he moaned into the kiss because god this was what he needed.

It wasn't just the night, either, nor just the weekend, and soon enough Percy was very good indeed at being homosexual (being homosexual with Anthony, thank you) and it didn't feel like a deviation anymore, not when they spent lazy Sunday mornings together with newspapers and tea and sock feet and Anthony's cat. Not when Anthony curled against Percy in the night under his amazing sheets. And definitely not when Anthony finally said I love you and Percy found he was able to say it back. He had his boy and there was no need for anything or anyone else.