|Still, where did the lighter fluid come from? (emiime) wrote in percy_ficathon,|
@ 2008-07-02 21:19:00
|Entry tags:||fic, percy/marcus, percy/oliver, r, slash|
A gift for acejillian!
Title: A Week In The Life Of Percy Weasley
Pairing/Characters: Percy/Oliver, Percy/Marcus
Word Count: 2,212
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: A week that begins with a normal Sunday dinner at the Burrow becomes more interesting when Percy broaches the subject of marriage to Oliver.
There was rather more Quidditch talk than Percy liked, but that was to be expected wherever Oliver went. All in all, Oliver's first dinner at the Burrow was a success. Percy's mother seemed to like him; she smiled at him and kept his plate full of potatoes and roast beef. Percy's father liked him too; Oliver listened to him talk about muggle sporting gadgets and suggested ideas on how they could be adapted to the wizarding world.
The only uncomfortable moment came when Oliver and George were recounting an old Quidditch story. George finished his part and Oliver added, "And remember that bludger Fred sent? What a hit. Knocked Pucey clean off his broom."
Silence descended then, as it always did whenever someone mentioned Fred outside of Molly's impromptu memorials. Percy looked at his mother, afraid she would start to cry. But there were no tears. "Fred was such a good Beater, wasn't he," she said, though she'd worried about him and George getting hurt all the time when he was alive and she'd had to confiscate their bats more than once when they practiced in the house.
"The best!" Oliver said. "He could have turned pro or played for the national team if he wanted."
That wasn't quite true, but it pleased Molly. She smiled and the whole family breathed easier. Percy could have shouted for joy. Oliver was wholly accepted now. In time, Molly might even get over the loss of potential grandchildren. Though Percy supposed he and Oliver could adopt. There would have to be some sort of ceremony first, to make Oliver an official part of the family the way Fleur, Harry, Hermione, and Angelina had become.
"Married?!" Oliver did not look pleased by the suggestion. Percy was glad he had not gotten down on his knees or bought a ring or anything ridiculous like that.
"Well, not truly married, but committed. A union."
"Why would we want to do that?"
"Why not? We've already decided that you're moving in with me when the lease on your place is up anyway. The ceremony won't change anything; it'll only make it official. And your mother will probably be as happy as mine."
"Fuck, Percy. I don't want to get married. Merlin, I knew this would happen. I shouldn't have gone with you yesterday. All that domesticity. Bloody hell. Next thing you'll want to have babies too."
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Oliver looked as though Percy had suggested he give up Quidditch. He ran his hands through his hair. "I don't want any of that. I…Oh, Merlin, I can't believe this. When did you become a happy homemaker?"
"How have you failed to grow up?" Percy countered. "We're not boys anymore. It's high time you started thinking about things beside that stupid sport."
"Fuck you, Percy." Oliver snatched his coat from where he'd carelessly tossed it over Percy's potted hydrangeas earlier and Disapparated.
Percy inspected the damage to his plant. The bloody oaf had crushed it. To think he'd asked him to marry him. The stupid slob would no doubt have left his dirty clothes all over the place. If they did decide to raise children, Oliver would probably have encouraged them to ignore their schoolwork to go flying. Percy was better off without him.
He should have known it would be a bad day. He couldn't find his glasses when he awoke. He spent a good five minutes searching his small bedroom before he found it in his underwear drawer. He had no idea how it had ended up there. Sometimes Percy was tempted to believe in those imps Luna Lovegood wrote about.
The Floo Network was experiencing problems so he was stuck in limbo for nearly half an hour before he managed to get to work. Once he'd settled into his office, he discovered that the meeting he'd remembered for eleven o'clock was really scheduled for ten o'clock. He had to frantically peruse the reports his underlings had submitted to him so he could knowledgably brief the Minister of Magic. In his haste, he knocked over his inkwell, and no amount of wand-waving would restore the ruined report.
Fortunately he knew quite a lot about international variations on cauldron standards from his first year at the Ministry so he was able to do his job adequately. He only hoped that Latvia wasn't making their cauldron bottoms thinner since he had last measured them. It had been years, after all.
Lunch was no good either. Percy found a long blonde hair in his tuna sandwich and he simply couldn't bear to continue eating after that. The cafeteria was also sold out of his favorite flavor of beverage. And he clumsily bumped into the head of the Department of Mysteries on his way out, though luckily the witch didn't recognize him.
His two o'clock appointment went even worse than Percy had expected. The elderly wizard he rebuked for being slow at his work and napping at his desk listened stoically enough, but when Percy was finished, he began to cry.
"Compose yourself, Mr. Baggins," Percy told him sternly, but the words went unheeded.
The man just sat across from Percy bawling his eyes out.
"I'm afraid you'll have to leave. I am expecting someone else."
No response; the old wizard only blew his nose on his sleeve.
"You leave me no choice but to summon security."
The entire department gathered to watch while Baggins was led out of the office. Percy hated such scenes and he hated even more that his co-workers looked at him like he had done something to the old man.
He was unable to concentrate the rest of the afternoon. Finally he gave up and just stared at the clock, waiting for the end of the workday. Instead of taking the Floo Network home, Percy went out into Muggle London and found a bar that didn't look too shabby.
By the time he left his office that evening, Percy had forgotten the morning's hangover that had made him vow never to imbibe alcohol again. His co-workers had been even lazier and more irritating than yesterday. Worse, his resolve had crumbled and he had Floo'd Oliver during his lunch hour, only to see him duck out of the room as soon as Percy’s head poked through his fireplace.
"The usual," Percy said, taking a seat at the bar.
The bartender gave him an annoyed look. "Never seen you before."
"A pint." No, he'd get drunk faster if he drank something stronger. "Actually, make it rum."
He was on his third drink when a man strutted up to him and clapped him on the back. "Percy Weasley"
"Marcus Flint." Percy suspected Oliver used to have a thing with Marcus. He’d never asked, lest Oliver ask for his own romantic history.
"I have to take a piss," he announced after his sixth drink, taking perverse satisfaction in being crude.
Marcus smirked. "Need me to go with you and hold your cock for you?"
"You can suck it instead."
The men's room door had barely closed behind them when Marcus slammed him against the wall. He didn't so much kiss Percy as he assaulted his mouth, his teeth tearing at Percy's lips. Percy didn't think of Oliver once while he knelt on the dirty floor and sucked Marcus's cock, and he certainly didn't think of Oliver later when Marcus reached around to fondle him, trying to distract him from noticing that he hadn't used enough lube.
What if Oliver saw him like this, Percy thought as he stood in front of his tiny bathroom mirror, his razor forgotten in his hand. What if anyone saw him like this? His lips were swollen and his neck bore teeth imprints. He could feel bruises on his hips where Marcus had held him tight as he fucked him. And his eyes were bloodshot from the drinking.
There was no potion to cure hangovers in his medicine cabinet. Percy did not drink and he saw no reason to stock it; yet this was the second morning he found himself in need of it. A couple of basic healing charms improved his appearance, but not his mood. He was falling apart, and he knew intellectually that the cause of his downfall was not worth it. However his heart refused to listen to his brain, no matter how he berated it.
He started when he realized he was going to be late to work. But he did not hurry into his work robes and scramble into the fireplace. For the first time in his life Percy Weasley sent an owl to the Ministry informing his boss that he was taking a day off.
He climbed back into bed, but he couldn't sleep so he began to clean. He sorted through all his neatly organized possessions and decided that some of them were useless and he was sentimentally wasting space. He discarded those items, and then he rearranged the food in his small pantry. He examined the contents of his wardrobe and ironed those robes that he hadn't ironed well enough before.
When there was nothing left to put right, Percy took a long, hot shower and then he cooked himself a fine dinner. The problem had been that he and Oliver Wood simply were not compatible. He would locate a suitable man with whom he could have a serious, stable, long-term relationship - perhaps that muggleborn wizard from the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.
The day went well. Jason agreed to have dinner with him the following week – not tonight because he was flying home to visit his parents. A man who appreciated family was a wise choice, Percy thought, refusing to remember how his former girlfriend Penelope had begged him to reconcile with his father all those years ago. And the Minister complimented Percy on his job performance and informed him that he would head the delegation to the International Magical Trading Standards Body later in the year.
Oliver was waiting outside his office when the workday ended. Nothing else came to mind so Percy said, "I'm afraid you'll need to make an appointment with the receptionist, sir." He walked past Oliver.
"I'm sorry. I just got a bit afraid, that's all. You said 'married' and I saw us like my parents. I'm really really sorry, Percy. I'm been thinking about it all week and I'm sick with misery. I couldn't even concentrate at practice; the coach sent me home early."
Percy was bitterly pleased to hear that. He didn't pause once in his stride to the elevator.
"Please, Percy. I love you."
This was what he had wanted; for Oliver to realize he needed him and come crawling back, begging. Sometimes he’d fantasized about coolly dismissing Oliver, telling him he didn't want him anymore, and sometimes he'd imagined taking him back. However at the moment he wasn't sure what course to pursue.
"I'll think about it," he said, and stepped into the elevator. The door shut, blocking out Oliver's crestfallen face.
He did think about it, and he finally admitted to himself that he wanted Oliver. Jason from the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee understood all the nuances of magical transportation regulations, but Percy wasn't distracted by the urge to kiss him when they talked. He couldn't imagine Jason dragging him to a Quidditch game and kissing him in the middle of the stands to celebrate when their team scored.
Finally Percy climbed out of bed, wrote a note, and sent his owl to find Oliver.
Percy woke afraid there was an intruder in the flat. He put his glasses on and picked up his wand, glad the sun was rising so he didn't need a light. He eased his bedroom door open and crept out, following the sound that had awoken him to the kitchen.
Oliver was making breakfast – or rather, he was cleaning up his attempt to make breakfast.
"Let me help with that," Percy said. A wave of his wand later, the broken dish had repaired itself and the raw eggs had vanished.
“Thanks, Percy. I’m just not cut out for this stuff.” He hastily added, “I’ll try though, for you.”
It was a good breakfast, although Oliver burned the toast. Percy could imagine the rest of their lives like this, coordinating their schedules in the morning and then coming home to each other in the evening. Oliver had a tendency to lateness and forgetfulness, but he only needed someone to remind him of things. Percy would buy him a watch for his birthday.
“Alicia said she saw you in a bar with Marcus Flint,” Oliver told him some time later.
Percy forced a chuckle. “What would I be doing with Flint?”
“Fucking in the men’s room.” Oliver laughed. “Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?”
He could confess his indiscretion, but it would probably cause more harm than good. It had only happened once and it certainly was not something he would repeat. There was no reason to upset Oliver. Besides, Percy reasoned, they had been broken up at the time. It was best to forget it had ever happened.
“Let me tell you the latest rumors of my supposed affair with the Minister…”