Percy Weasley (sentimentalist) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-06-02 23:13:00 |
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The dorm room was blessedly empty -- empty of boys, of trunks, of people -- except for Percy, who sat on the edge of the bed clutching a pair of Quidditch goggles. He knew that Oliver would return for them and, as such, would have to see him alone. It took a steadying breath to think about it again. To think about what he intended and what it would mean. Or, he supposed, what it could end forever. (He’d taken Oliver’s presence for granted. Had just assumed the boy would be there whenever Percy felt like calling. Would always come back when Percy pushed.) But now, after putting his hypotheses to the test, he realised he had been wrong all along. And it was time to come clean. Oliver skidded back into the room, expecting it to be empty. He’d thrown open his trunk downstairs - just to double check - and when he’d realised he was missing something important, he’d ran the entire way back to the tower. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that someone else might be there. That Percy might be there. He was out of breath for a moment, which was fine because it allowed him to put words together into a sentence first. He’d tried to avoid being alone with Percy - he tried to avoid Percy in general - which was a huge contrast from before. It seemed like an entirely different life. “I was worried someone nicked them,” he said. “Truth is -- I did,” he said, voice far more soft and tentative than he’d imagined when he went through this encounter (scenario by scenario). “Because I knew you’d come back for them. I promise they’re okay --” he held them out to Oliver, dangling on the heart of his palm. “See for yourself.” Eyes narrowed and suspicious, Oliver crossed the room to take the goggles, but he didn’t inspect them. He knew Percy was capable of a lot, but sabotaging him still wasn’t one of the things Oliver thought he’d do. Instead, he just stood there and looked at Percy, trying to figure out what was going on. “Why?” “I …” he swallowed. “I wanted to see you. Just you.” With a breath he stood and closed some of this distance between them, too tentative to close the gap far enough to be within Oliver’s reach. Not yet ready if Oliver decided to spurn him. “Penny and I … we’re just friends. We broke it off. “ “Oh.” Oliver swallowed, but his throat still felt dry. He’d been waiting to hear that for so long, and now that Percy was saying it, he didn’t know what to say or how to feel. His stomach did a flip like it was hoping this meant Percy really wanted him, but his chest felt tight, reminding him that Percy hadn’t wanted him. “Um. I’m sorry… to hear that. What happened?” “Penny and I are friends,” he explained. “We …” He knew that Penelope Clearwater would always hold an important place in his heart and that he would love her. But they both knew that Percy was someone … “I have to be more of who I am when I can be myself,” he said in a rush. He took a deep breath. “ … and I’m really sorry I hurt you.” “I don’t...” understand, Oliver wanted to say. He thought who Percy was with Penny was who Percy was, not the boy he’d kissed in a record store. He thought that was who Percy wanted to be. His voice dried up then and he looked away. “Yeah, well.” The hurt hadn’t really gone away with time. Oliver suspected that was due to proximity: he had to see the two of them together. Hearing Percy say he was sorry didn’t change what had happened, either. Oliver’s voice was gruff when he spoke again, trying to sound dismissive, like the boy standing in front of him didn’t know him better than anyone, “I’m fine. It’s no big. I was wrong. Happens sometimes.” “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Oliver! You aren’t wrong,” Percy was a little shrill in his response. A little panicked with his wringing hands now that he didn’t have anything to hold onto. Just … a little shred of hope? “I was.” Oliver looked up then and stared at Percy, struggling to fully comprehend what he’d said. Was he really admitting what Oliver thought he was? What Oliver had always hoped he would? “Wait - what?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand… what was all of that with Penny, then? I mean, Percy, you… you didn’t only hurt me, you know?” He’d never put it in words before. “It broke my heart. To see you…” “ … it doesn’t come as easy to me, being --” he gestured with his hands, rolling them toward himself, before showing Oliver his palms. “Being open like you. Being different.” “It’s not easy,” Oliver corrected him, frowning. “None of it’s easy. It was just --” He knew he was different from everyone else, but it’d been there for so long that Oliver didn’t know any other way to be. Maybe that was why everyone thought he had it all sorted out and there was never any struggle. “It was easier with you.” “It was easier with you,” he repeated, agreeing with Oliver. It was easier being himself. But he still feared the cost of what it could mean if how he felt about Oliver Wood was known to the school (the world? His family?) and though he didn’t utter the question, it was baldly readable in his furrowed brow. “I hope it still can be? But … I understand if it can’t.” Oliver wanted to say no, that there was no chance, that Percy had ruined it and they’d never be the same again, but he couldn’t. It just wasn’t true, no matter how much Oliver wanted to be strong. He wasn’t. He’d missed Percy so desperately — So despite the fact that they were still in their dorm and anyone could walk in, Oliver closed the gap between them and kissed the other boy, one hand on Percy’s jaw. “Maybe,” Oliver murmured when he pulled back a touch to breathe, “we can try. I can’t make any promises.” Percy melted into Oliver’s grasp, savoring the warmth the other boy wrought all through him. With the distance closed between them, he realised that he wasn’t just hungry. He was starving. For this. His lips tilted into a gentle smile, pressing his forehead against the other boy’s. “Okay. That’s a start. We can try.” This didn’t fix everything, Oliver thought, but it was surprisingly easy to forget all about the hurt and the time that stood between them when Percy was in his arms again. It was easy to get swept up in how that felt, how his heart leapt and how his stomach flipped. He’d been lonely for so long. Oliver knew he should back away, but he didn’t. “I missed you,” he whispered instead, closing his eyes tight and trying to savour every second. “You’ve no idea.” The pale of January and February was characterised by elicit moments stolen in corners, halls and in the Quidditch locker room. (When Oliver wasn’t playing, when Percy wasn’t studying or prowling the halls declaring himself Head Boy. Harry Potter certainly made free time difficult between the two of them, all things considering.) But gently, winter gave way to Spring. … and Spring, at last, to graduation. Percy, with his battalion of OWLs and NEWTs, had the world by the tail. And on the wildflower dotted hill overlooking the lake, he had his hand in Oliver’s pocket. “I can’t believe it’s our last time here as students.” Oliver breathed in deeply, taking in the fresh air and the scents that he’d come to associate specifically with Hogwarts. In that moment, with Percy beside him, Oliver felt the world stretched out on and on ahead of them, full of promise and hope. There was a certain sadness to be leaving Hogwarts, of course, but there was excitement, too. Oliver couldn’t wait to see what life had in store for them next. “I know,” he said, sounding breathless. “It’s come so fast. It feels like just yesterday we were being sorted together.” Both yesterday and a lifetime ago. “And now here we are.” He looked at Percy and beamed. “We won’t have to sneak around so much soon. I’ll get my own place… once I make a team, that is.” There was so much unknown. Oliver had to make a team - and Percy had every faith in his beloved - but Percy also had to choose the path he would take at the Ministry. Every step was guaranteed to draw them further away from their simple little dorm. It was only going to get more complicated from here. And he couldn’t bear to voice that fear to Oliver. So he grinned. “Just stay within Apparating distance!” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Oliver scolded him, nudging him playfully with his elbow. “I’m not going to go to Australia or something.” Although if they’d have him and no one closer to home would… He wasn’t going to think like that, though. He was going to make a team. Puddlemere, hopefully, but he’d take just about any of them. Not the Cannons, of course, but most of the others. “We would be great there, though, you have to admit.” “ … I would look like a crustacean!” Percy countered, considering the close proximity to the sun and his delicate ginger characteristics. “But I mean, if Australia calls …” He smiled, considering the endless sunshine and the beaches. “Maybe I could learn to surf?” Oliver laughed, bright and loud. He wrapped an arm around Percy’s shoulders, tugging him into a playful half-hug. They’d stood like that before, though perhaps minus the hand in Oliver’s pocket, and Oliver had roughoused with Percy before, so he didn’t think it would look suspicious if anyone was watching. “Yeah, all right. You can learn to surf. Whatever you say, Perce.” It was a tempting idea, as far-fetched as it was, and Percy hadn’t balked at the mention of a we. Earlier in the school year, Oliver had honestly thought the day would never come. “You’d be the cutest surfing crustacean around.” This was the right moment to pull that hand from Oliver’s pocket and give him one of those hearty bro-taps he’d seen the players give on the Quidditch pitch. He decided to try it, giving Oliver’s shoulder several open handed cuffs before he pulled back with brows arched. “And I don’t even pay you to say that.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Oliver countered, a sly grin on his face. “I’d say there are several ways to pay someone that don’t involve actual money.” But it was true, even so. He said those things just because it was true, not because he felt like he had to. “Should we see if we can sneak off for a bit? One last time?” A snort of - semi-nervous - laughter. Percy was in his last few waning moments as Head Boy. It was probably time to be a little rebellious with this boy with whom he was so besotten. He stepped closer, wrapping his palm around Oliver’s elbow. He nodded. Oliver’s stomach flipped. “Okay.” His smile was eager, now, but nervous as well. He’d never thought they’d be back to this, and it still threw him for a loop when he thought about how Percy had come back. “Where?” He wanted to kiss Percy right there in full view, and his hand twitched a little as he restrained himself. “The Library. We’ll go to the Restricted section …” he paused, smiling. “Go straight there. I’ll go the long way round.” “The library?” Oliver shouldn’t have been so surprised. It was exactly the sort of place Percy would like, and no one else would probably be by, especially not to the Restricted section. “Nerd. Okay. I’ll meet you there.” He was about to turn to go, but he hesitated. “Hey, Percy?” Percy gave him a withering smile and began to turn, heading toward his path to the Library. He was already imagining what he would do if he got there first. How he’d wait for Oliver and … oh. His heart seized up in his chest when he turned and met Oliver’s gaze with arched brows and a smile. “Hey Oliver.” “Um.” There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted Percy to understand. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, from a combination of nerves and anticipation. “I just…” Speaking came so easily when he was face-to-face with his Quidditch team, but Percy was another story. “The last few months with you, it’s -- it’s been perfect. I just wanted you to know, whatever happens after this, it’s been perfect.” Colour blossoming in Percy’s cheeks was the herald to him rubbing his face briskly in the absence of having something just right to say. So instead he leaned forward, pitching his shoulders toward Oliver. “It has,” he agreed quietly. “And it will still be perfect.” He waited a beat. “Come on, Olly.” Oliver wanted very badly for that to be true - for them to leave Hogwarts and still be together, to be together properly, but he didn’t dare put a voice to those hopes yet. Not yet. It wasn’t that long ago that Percy left him, a small part of his brain reminded him. They had a long way to go. He wouldn’t think about that now, though, not when the library was looming in front of him. “Don’t make me wait too long,” he told Percy, and then he took off towards the school, because he didn’t trust what he might do if he lingered any longer. A shaggy dog ran along the beach, chasing a frisbee flung high until it leapt in the air and caught it in its teeth with an arc. As soon as its feet hit the ground again it turned, barreling back toward the hands that had originally loosed it. Percy Weasley, his red hair now threaded with silver, knelt in the sand and allowed himself to be bowled over by the animal. “Summer, come on!” But the dog would not let him up until he’d been thoroughly thanked for his efforts and as he rose, he retrieved his hat and sunglasses, turning back to gaze further up the beach. Christmas had come and gone. The New Year was upon them. And he was waiting. “Dad will be home soon.” Their lives were different than Oliver had thought they would be. There were months, long ago, when he had a difficult time picturing the future, but when he did, this wasn’t quite it. It had ended up better. His days were long, sometimes, filled with meetings and interviews and photo shoots. Some were quiet. It was hard to predict, but he liked it that way. It made up for what he lost when he retired from Quidditch. When he’d gotten home to an empty house, he headed for the beach next. Percy was easy to spot - and so was Oliver, at least for Summer. He whistled and the dog spun around looking for him before racing off across the sand to meet him, the other father temporarily forgotten. It gave Percy enough time to clamber up out of the sand and follow Summer, greeting Oliver with a press of his lips to the other’s temple. The years shone on Percy -- silver, yes. A little more gaunt. A little stooped. But sunkissed with smile lines and freckles upon his shoulders. Oliver looked perfect in any light and at any time. “Hey love.” Oliver reached out to greet his husband with a firm kiss to his lips, indulging in it a little like it had been days or weeks, and not just a handful of hours. “Hello, husband.” He never got sick of saying that, even after so many years. He never got sick of waking up every morning next to the man he’d pledged to love for the rest of their lives. He never got sick of seeing the way life’s changes were written all over them both, or of seeing how happy Percy was. “Having a good day?” “Summer dumped me for you,” he said playfully, turning to swipe at the shaggy head that pressed between them and vied for dual attention. “But I definitely can’t blame her …” Percy was happy. Semi-retired, two books in, and content. “I mean, look at you.” A laugh bubbled out from Oliver. “Look at me? Look at you.” And he did, very obviously. He let his gaze linger over his husband’s body suggestively. He may have been overacting just a touch. Just a touch. Then, a little more seriously, “but you’re the one he saw all day, not me. He was always going to dump you for me today. It’ll be the other way around next time, trust me.” And Percy’s response may have been more than a little telling; hips jutting, trousers riding low and cheeks flushed he still felt the rush of youth when Oliver let his gaze rake hot and heavy over him in such a fashion. Summer, between her fathers, squeaked a ball insistently. He broke into a laugh. “I’ve got a picnic lunch. C’mon, love.” “Aw, you spoil me.” Oliver grinned and bent down to pluck the ball from Summer’s mouth. “Lead the way. And on the way, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about a job.” He took Oliver’s hand, letting the dog gambol ahead of them. As they walked along the beach, he considered the news Oliver could have. Either way it would be exciting. “A job?” he asked, giving Oliver the platform he needed to provide additional detail. “Mmhmm.” Oliver tossed the ball ahead of their dog. When he’d retired from Quidditch, he had imagined he would be really done, outside of the ongoing camps he had every year. The break allowed him to focus more on other things: charity, his family. Going back would be a big step. “There’s a team that’s offered me a coaching position.” He paused and glanced at his husband. “The catch is it’s in South Africa.” “That’s only two portkeys to England instead of three,” he mused, though he offered Oliver a mildly arched brow. “And … I’ve had drinks with the Minister at least twice in the last five years. It could be a good move for both of us.” A pause. “As long as you’re ready to coach.” It was closer, which had been one of the draws, for Oliver. Closer to both of their families, even if it was still a continent away. “They’d be lucky to have you,” he commented, “if you wanted to throw yourself at their politics.” As for himself -- was he ready? He’d been doing that for years now, returning to England every summer if he was living away, but teaching children and teenagers was different. “I don’t know,” Oliver admitted after a moment. “It may be worth talking to them about?” “ … it’s worth it, Olly,” he said after a moment. He knew that Oliver’s heart soared at the Pitch. And as much as he’d done good these past years, it seemed right to come full circle. He stepped forward, wrapping his sun-warmed arms around his chest. The dog, behind them, sat and beat her thick tail against the wet sand. “It’s a good move.” It was what Oliver wanted to hear but had been too afraid to ask for: confirmation that it was something Percy might want, too. They’d seen so much in the years they’d been married: war, death, babies, new countries all across the globe, new homes. Oliver remembered how desperately he wanted to get away, shortly after it all ended years ago. How he wanted to whether or not Percy came with him, at least temporarily. He couldn’t imagine that now. He inhaled deeply, trying to save it to memory: the smell of the ocean, the sand. “We’ll find a place near the beach,” he suggested. “Whatever you want.” “Lots of sky for you,” was a suggestion. Percy knew - intrinsically - that each move had its little moue of anxiety. Would it be the right move for both of them? Would they land on their feet? But it was the truth that for every one of these years, they’d been successful in keeping one another in mind. “A big library for me.” “Oh, of course. We can’t forget the library. That’s the second most important part after our bathroom.” Oliver paused for a moment, thinking. “Third most important, after the kitchen. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s not even a certainty yet.” It was a nice dream to get caught up in, though. They’d never lived on that continent before. He felt a little trill of excitement just thinking about it. “Now, about this picnic?” “Just so long as you know the measure of things!” Vining his fingertips through Oliver’s, he pulled him up away from the beach and toward an umbrella with a blanket beneath. It was always about forward motion with them. And as long as the path was full of their own dreams - as long as his hand was firmly within Oliver’s - he knew that he’d go anywhere. Percy’s face split into a grin. “Come along, Oliver.” |