James Wilson will pay for lunch. (thestraightman) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-04 00:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, james wilson, percy weasley |
Who: Percy Weasley + James Wilson
What: Fun with Apperating.
When: Saturday afternoon, 8/3.
Where: Their condo.
Rating: Hard NC-17/R/Whatever for graphic mansex.
Status: Complete!
To say that Percy had been delighting in his magic a little more than usual recently would possibly be an understatement. The lanky ginger was finding reasons that weren't really reasons at all in order to apparate around. It was very much like in his dreams, he realized -- he was nearly smug with the newfound ability.
It was kind of cool. And fairly practical. He had to be given credit for that at least, right?
There was a crack of a noise -- a little like the sound of a car engine backing up and stalling, and he was in the living room instead of the office. This might never get old.
“Ah!” Wilson flailed a little to himself when Percy just magically appeared, then laughed at his little jump. “How are you, Percy?”
Percy actually gave a laugh at that, little wrinkles around his eyes and everything. It shouldn’t have been so funny to him that he’d scared James, but he couldn’t seem to completely dissolve the smile, either. “Practicing,” he said by way of answer. The better he got at it, the easier it would be to have Wilson tag along.
Really, he was just thinking about the planet. Teleporting was green.
“I think you’re Scout’s new favorite game.” Wilson laughed as the cat skidded into the living room from the office, barking when she found her owner. Hey, cats liked free toys, right?
Cats only liked free toys. You could buy them a million expensive mice toys and they would just ignore them all day -- then then you accidentally drop the ring to the milk carton and it was like there was nothing more holy or fun in the world. Really, it was just frustrating most of the time.
Percy gave another indulgent sort of smile and shrugged, bending down to pick up the cat. “So long as she doesn’t start hunting me, I suppose.”
“If she does, we’ll know who to blame,” Wilson smiled. But he didn’t think that Percy was in any mortal danger from the purring cat in his arms. “If you suffer any cat related trauma, I’ll stitch you up very carefully. Promise.”
“I knew there was a reason I decided to date a doctor,” Percy murmured, amused as he pet the cat who decided very suddenly that she no longer had a spine or bones. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“There’s lots of perks to dating a doctor. All the free lollipops you can eat, and if you need to make a tongue depressor house, I’m your man.” He stood up to wrap his arms around Percy, giving the cat a kiss on the top of its head. “I don’t know, I was thinking I’d help Scout chase you around the house.”
Building a tongue depressor house was not, nor would ever be on Percy’s list of things to do. But it was always nice to know that he had the option if needed.
“Oh?” He demurred, glancing at Wilson over the frames of his glasses. “Do you think you could keep up?” The art of teasing: he was getting very good at it.
“I’m old, but I think I could at least try.” Wilson was also good at teasing, and he fished around in his pockets. Huh, butterscotch candy. “Crap, I really am old.” Hard candies being randomly on your person, the first sign of aging.
Percy stared at that candy as if it was a sign of the apocalypse. He set the cat back down on the floor since she’d decided along with spinelessness that biting was a thing she was doing now. “Please tell me someone older gave you that.”
“Actually, I think I stole it from pediatrics to give to one of my peds oncology patients.” He recalled having done that a few weeks ago; the dry cleaner must’ve just missed a piece.
“Oh, good.” Those candies really were just the sign of Old. He was glad that Wilson wasn’t buying them by the bag full. That’s when you knew it was over. Percy remember his grandfather handing those things out like -- well. Candy.
“They’re way too sweet for me anyway.” Wilson tossed it into the garbage, smiling and moving toward Percy. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to find a Home for me yet,” he teased.
“I’d been worried, too.” Really, actually, he hadn’t. Percy pressed close in embrace, fingers finding their spot on Wilson’s hips and chin resting on his shoulder. Sometimes he was still a little shocked at how comfortable he was here.
Wilson ran his fingers gently through the soft hair at the base of Percy’s neck. “What were you planning for the evening?” He really was okay with just standing like this for a while, but eventually he’d have preferred to move to the sofa eventually.
“I had half a mind to pick a movie to watch,” which wasn’t that hard, now that he just did it alphabetically off of the shelf that Wilson had arranged as things he might like, “and then possibly fall asleep in your lap about half way through.” Well, at least he was honest.
“That sounds like heaven,” Wilson chuckled. He liked that Percy would lay his head on his lap; it meant that Wilson could stroke his hair without seeming too weird about the whole thing.
And Percy liked the head petting, so it all worked out well. He also, unashamedly, liked falling asleep on the other man. He had no real reason for it, because honestly the bed would probably be more comfortable and better for his neck, but that didn’t matter - he still delighted in doing it whenever possible. “Oh, good,” he murmured, pressing a careful kiss to James’ neck before pulling away a little. “I know it’s not the most adventurous of plans.”
“I was also thinking I could rub your shoulders out because I know they’re stiff.” Wilson often worried over Percy simply because he could, but it was fortunate for the older man that his fiancé generally suffered no further illnesses than stiffness of joints or knotted muscles. But still, nothing bad ever came from giving your loved one a shoulder rub.
“I keep telling you that’s my natural state of being.” Percy murmured wryly, but would not now or ever turn down a shoulder rub from Wilson. He was simply good at it. He moved to pick out the next movie on the shelf (not even bothering to see what it was) and start it up.
All The King’s Men started on the screen, and Wilson wrapped his arms around his fiance, curling up close. “This one’s actually good, we may have to rewatch it at a time when we’re less likely to fall asleep.” He kissed Percy’s shoulder. “So, in addition to cleaning and poofing places, what else have you been practicing?” Magic fascinated Wilson, if only because he was firmly in the ‘boring, no magic whatsoever, nothing special here’ camp of Dreamers.
Percy fell asleep during nearly every movie - it was just kind of what he did when they were sitting on the couch. Not always for large chunks or anything, but the redhead did have the talent for konking out for at least five minutes during each film picked. “Okay,” he said, although they both knew it wouldn’t quite happen.
“Hmm,” he said, cuddling close and nuzzling his cheek into Wilson’s thigh. “I can -- a lot of things, I guess. Basic charms, transfiguration.” That probably wasn’t actually helpful.
“What’re those?” Wilson lightly rubbed Percy’s temples, idly massaging them. The redhead was prone to headaches.
Another reason that he so well liked all of Wilson’s massages and gentle touches. He half closed his eyes before remember that they were pretending to watch a movie as they spoke. “Er-- it’s like. Charms are just different sorts of spells, I guess is the easiest way to put it. The word is deceivingly simple for what it is, they can be big things. Transfiguration is -- sort of what it sounds like? Changing one thing into another thing.”
“I think those would be useful. Do you like having your magic? I can see where that would be comfortable, you know? Kind of having your identity back, you know?” Wilson just liked being happy for his fiancé, just being there for him in any way he could.
“I do now,” Percy admitted. “It feels natural, as odd as that sounds -- but like you say. Having something back. Identity.” He folded his arms around himself -- Percy tended to be oddly compact despite the fact that he was so lanky. “When I first discovered it I was sure it was the end of days though.” In retrospect, that seemed silly.
“Well. I love you no matter what. Wizard, not-wizard, lawyer, not-lawyer - as long as you’re Percy Weasley, that’s all that matters to me.” Wilson moved so he could kiss Percy gently, hoping that the other man knew that. He knew that Percy could sometimes feel a bit off.
Understatement of the century, that. But Percy knew, he did. Sort of. He very much associated himself with the things that he did and probably would never quite be able to disassociate, not completely. But that was technically part of him to, so in a very roundabout way, Wilson loved that, too. “I appreciate that,” he said with a half smile and another stolen kiss.
“How have your dreams been? Still Doctoring with a poor excuse for a friend?” Not much seemed to change in Wilson’s.
“Oh, yes. We had a casino night recently in my dreams and I got to wear a tux.” Wilson thought he actually looked pretty decent in a tux and hoped he might get a reason to wear one around Percy sometime soon.
Probably, Percy could think up at least one good reason. He have a little smile at that, nuzzling closer in preparation for the nap. Or the massage. Whichever. “Sexy. Did you win?”
Rubbing Percy’s shoulders lightly, Wilson smiled. “A little. I tend to bet conservatively, so I don’t ever lose too much.” In gambling, he wasn’t willing to risk much.
Nodding, Percy seemed to understand completely. He never gambled, and couldn’t imagine being able to bet much if he ever were to. He and Wilson were similar in that regard. “Mm,” he said, and it was possibly in agreement or maybe just pleasure over the shoulder rub.
That made Wilson laugh. “I’m guessing that you’re happy?” He kissed Percy’s neck, rubbing a little more firmly. “How was work?” Percy had been stressing over taking over and starting his own practice, and Wilson always wanted to help if he could.
“Busy, as usual,” Percy admitted with a little face -- but it didn’t last and it smoothed out to an expression of odd contentment. “But I like it. It feels worth it. We’ve managed to keep a good deal of our clients.” He did stress out about it, and it was long days and sometimes more hours than he really had to give, but it was all kind of satisfying whenever he looked at the Weasley and Winchester signage.
“I’d say that’s worth it. I’m sure your clients appreciate it too. They don’t have to move away from someone they trust,” Wilson added. “I know none of my patients like swapping out doctors after they’ve built up a relationship. I can’t imagine lawyers are any different.”
“You’re probably right,” Percy said, and really did just know it to be true. But that didn’t mean he didn’t like telling Wilson he was right now and again. It just seemed like a pleasant, life affirming thing - to be agreed with.
He rolled around until he was on his back, looking up at Wilson. “I feel like I never have anything to talk about anymore beyond work. I’m sorry.” Not that Percy thought it was boring, but still. He was trying to be thoughtful here.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Wilson smiled. “I like hearing you talk about your work. You light up.” Wilson nosed into Percy’s neck, kissing gently.
“Just making sure,” Percy amended, and felt pleased over it anyway. He didn’t want to be the person that got boring - too stale. Tilting his head to the side a little, he nuzzled closer yet -- because sometimes being in someones’ lap just wasn’t good enough.
It helped that Wilson just enjoyed hearing work stories, especially for professions about which he knew very little. Pulling Percy as close as humanly possible, Wilson nipped gently and smiled. “I’ll never get sick of it, Percy.”
“Good.” He believed Wilson when he said that, and so wouldn’t push the matter any further. There was no point. Percy paused, looking at the television for a moment. “I haven’t given this movie a chance at all yet, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m not really watching it either.” For someone who could do magic, Percy rather needlessly worried about being boring. Wilson turned Percy’s head to kiss him more firmly, smiling for a moment before nibbling the younger man’s lower lip.
Perhaps it was because in his dreams where everyone else could do magic too, he was still boring. And pretty extravagantly disliked by everyone but possibly his mother. It was hard to argue with general consensus sometimes.
“Oh, good,” Percy said between kisses, wriggling about a bit until he was actually just stradling James’ lap and facing him properly. “Now I haven’t a reason to feel guilty at all.”
“You never did,” Wilson smiled cheerfully. He reached up Percy’s shirt to lightly rub at his back, fingers massaging lightly. “I know you think you’re boring, but I think you’re this gorgeous, sexy, amazingly brilliant, talented, funny man I happen to be engaged to.” Wilson sometimes wondered how he got so lucky.
“You can add egocentric to that list now too,” Percy murmured, amused and flattered and pleased all at once.
“You’re frankly mad with power,” Wilson deadpanned. He ran his fingers through Percy’s red hair, tugging it a little as he nibbled Percy’s neck gently.
Percy mmphed out his approval at the hair tug and tilted his lips into a half a smile. “Yes,” he agreed, closing his eyes and enjoying the nibbling. “Law offices today, tomorrow the world.” Equal rights and health care for all.
“You’re so very Orson Welles,” Wilson murmured against Percy’s neck. He smiled to himself, pulling Percy as close as their bodies would allow. “You’d be a fairly benevolent ruler, I think.”
“Is this the part where I make a joke about Rosebud?” Percy asked, more than a little pleased with himself for even getting the reference in the first place. Clearly, living with Wilson had rubbed off on him a bit, because there was certainly a time when he’d have just given a blank stare to a comment like that.
Wrapping his arms around Wilson’s neck, he kissed his temple and wriggled in his lap. Not really closer, because that wasn’t possible. Just -- to move, really.
Wilson chuckled, but then he gasped when Percy wiggled. Any chance for a retort was gone, killed by Wilson’s fledgling erection. “You did that on purpose,” he murmured. He didn’t sound at all upset.
Percy didn’t even have the feigned grace to bother looking apologetic or innocent about it. Instead, he only repeated his previous action. “Yes,” he agreed mildly (he was really becoming a master at deadpan). “I think I did.”
His head lolled backward as he groaned, rocking his hips upward against Percy’s. “You’re kind of an evil mastermind,” he purred.
“Just practicing for all that world domination,” Percy murmured, biting sharply at the curve of James’ neck and brushing his hands down his sides and then under the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t realize that maybe he was advertising that he might try taking over the world with sexuality, but hey, he couldn’t catch everything.
“Please, don’t dominate anyone else this way,” Wilson murmured. “The president of France, Holland, well he might like it, but I’d get jealous.” Wilson leaned forward to kiss Percy harder, pulling him close again.
"They're just countries," Percy said between kisses, fingers curling into the skin beneath Wilson's shirt. "They mean nothing compared to you." Romantic much? Clearly Wilson was rubbing off on him.
Smiling, Wilson broke the kiss long enough to tug off Percy’s shirt. “Very true,” he murmured. Nipping Percy’s collarbone as the shirt was shucked, Wilson closed his eyes. He wanted to be married to Percy so bad sometimes it hurt almost as much as his erection.
Percy had been thinking on it a lot lately, too (being married, not the erection. Okay, he thought about erections a lot too. He was in his mid twenties, of course he did). It felt like daily he was getting nearer to giving up on waiting for the perfect moment and just demanding they pick a day. It helped that it was legal now.
He glanced after his shirt on the floor but let it be for the moment, choosing instead to remove Wilson’s too. Fair was fair.
“I was thinking about where you want to go on our honeymoon,” Wilson murmured. “Now that you can ... poof, whatever it’s called - Apparate? - that makes it easier.” Wilson bit his lip and helped Percy with the removal of his shirt.
“Apparation, yes. But teleporting is just as simple a term. I suppose.” He half folded Wilson’s shirt before sort of tossing it on top of the side of the couch. “Where were you thinking?” Conversation would have to happen between kisses.
“I don’t know, are you a beach person? Cities?” Wilson always wanted to go to historic sites and be a tourist, but he’d gotten stuck doing the beach thing three times.
Percy considered that, even as his fingers idly undid the button on Wilson’s pants. “I’m not much of a beach person. I just burn and then consider how much it hurts to move for a week afterward.” Plus California had enough beaches, didn’t it?
“We could go to the mountains. Or Paris. Where have you always wanted to go?” Wilson was happily undoing the belt to Percy’s trousers and trying not to smirk too much.
"Europe in general? It's easy to travel in by train and the like, so we could see more than one spot if we wanted." He leaned back enough to watch Wilson work.
“That’s a great idea.” Wilson smiled, unzipping Percy slowly. “We can get a sleeper car and shag on a train.” Check one off of the bucket list!
Percy made terribly sure not to wriggle during any long unzippings, and so sat quite still, head tilted to the side. “You’re wicked,” he told his finace. But it wasn’t a denial or a refusal or anything like that at all.
“I am not, it’s our room. If we rent a room, we’re allowed to do whatever we want in it.” He smiled, leaning forward to gently nip at Percy’s lower lip.
“If you say so.” But he liked the idea of sex on a train, so wouldn’t argue more, even for the sake of it (which was sort of Percy’s favorite sort of arguing). He turned the little bite into a kiss, more intense than before. If more intense was implied by tongue, anyway.
“I do.” Wilson liked arguing just because as well, but he liked kissing more than anything in the whole world. Tugging Percy down a bit, Wilson sprawled out onto the couch with Percy on top of him.
Squeaking out his surprise, Percy went a bit pink and then seemed to adjust well enough, snuggling closer and rolling his hips a bit before leaning down for more kisses.
“And you think I’m the devious one?” Wilson sighed, reaching down to cop a grope of Percy’s ass. They were engaged, he was allowed.
He’d been allowed even before they were engaged. Hell, if they wanted to get down to the brass tacks, Percy probably would have let him after the second date.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t be too,” Percy said, matter of fact and more than a little smug.
“It doesn’t, no. We can co-author the deviousness.” Wilson chuckled. He wiggled a hand under Percy to try to get them unbuttoned.
Percy only let out a puff of a breath, which was (on occasion) one of his only telltale signs of being amused before scooting back a little bit in order to get his own pants off, and then help Wilson with his so that he didn’t feel the need to get up again.
“Naked cuddling is fantastic.” Wilson just liked laying with him, just being close and comfortable. “We should do this more often,” he murmured.
“I was sure we did it nearly every night already,” Percy replied, snuggling closer, pressing his cheek to the curve of Wilson’s neck. “But yes.”
“Well, maybe we should branch out into afternoons,” Wilson quipped. He ran lazy fingers up and down Percy’s back, kissing the younger man’s earlobe. It was hard not to daydream about weddings around him.
“But then it might turn into nap territory,” Percy wasn’t big on naps, as he was sure there were at least fifty other important things he could be doing that wasn’t sleeping. He curled his fingers around Wilson’s arm, feeling comfortable and pleased.
“You should embrace the siesta. Some studies show that those who nap for at least half an hour three times a week live up to ten years longer.” Wilson yawned. Naps were awesome in his opinion.
Percy gave a sniff of distaste over the idea of it, but said nothing in argument. After all, falling asleep during movies probably counted as a nap anyway, and if that was the case he already was doing it.
“We’ll see,” he didn’t quite mumble, so much as lose his words based on the fact that he was pressing his mouth into Wilson’s neck.
“Mmm,” Wilson agreed without really agreeing. He just curled closer, moving the extra millimeter closer to Percy. That was all the room they had between each other.
Idly, Percy ran short, well attended nails across Wilson’s side -- half a scratch at the most. He liked cuddling. Sometimes he even liked when possible sex turned into cuddling because it made him reconfirmed in his beliefs that they were in absolutely no rush. Neither was going anywhere and they could just do things on their own time. It was... nice.
“Love you.”
“Love you too,” Wilson smiled. He really just liked their leisurely pace in general. They had all the time in the world to do whatever they wanted - cuddle, kiss, chat, whatever. They only had the rest of their lives.
“Of course you do.” Because sometimes amidst all the romanticism and perfection, Percy had to be a brat.
Wilson cackled, biting Percy on the shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean, young man? Don’t make me put you over my knee.”
Percy gave a half huff of a laugh and buried his face further into Wilson’s neck. “Nothing, nothing.”
“No, what?” Wilson smiled, tickling lightly at Percy’s ribs. He loved the moments where they could just be playful, where they didn’t have to stress about things.
“Nothing,” Percy repeated, wiggling away from the tickling with another little huff before swatting Wilson’s hand away and laying on it to avoid more sass and trouble.
Going limp, Wilson feigned death for a few moments. He just looked up and flopped backward, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
And Percy? He just let him, pointedly ignoring the dramatics in favor of not moving from his self appointed spot on top of Wilson’s arm and shoulder.
After a few moments, Wilson opened one eye, blew a raspberry on Percy’s shoulder, then resumed playing dead.
“Sigh,” said Percy after a moment. And yes, he’d really said sigh. “I suppose I shall have to go find a new doctor, as mine is dead now.”
“What, I’m just your live-in doctor? Do you have some sort of condition I don’t know about?” Wilson opened his eyes, but kept his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Yes.” Percy’s tone was dry, but then he found he couldn’t actually think of anything clever to follow that up with, and so instead saw fit to poke Wilson’s tongue with one of his fingers.
Wilson play nipped at Percy’s finger, giggling. “Oh my. What sort of condition? Can I help?”
In retaliation, Percy poked Wilson’s nose. Not so secretly, he really liked his nose. “It’s a heart condition,” he said, realizing how cheesy that was immediately. Too little too late. “You do help.”
Instead of saying ‘aww’, Wilson’s face broke into a smile. A sappy, sentimental, wholly pleased smile that prompted Wilson to wrap his arms around Percy and kiss him gently.
Well, at least it had been appreciated despite all that cliche. Then again, Wilson was the more romantic of the two of them. Percy hummed out a pleased sort of noise and kissed back fondly.
Wilson would’ve proposed on top of a very tall building if one had been handy. He was willing to be Tom Hanks to Percy’s Meg Ryan. Even though Meg Ryan kind of disappeared.
Percy wasn’t willing to be Meg Ryan, anyway. Her haircut was terribly 90s, and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
“Want to go to bed?”
“That sounds good,” Wilson smiled. “Are you going to do the thing?”
Percy blinked over that, a little baffled. “The thing?”
“You know, the thing with the noise and the teleporting.” Wilson made a waggly motion with his fingers, the universal hand gesture for magic.
Oh was it, now? Percy considered that for a moment, expression thoughtful. “I-- can,” he said after a moment. “But you’ve got to be really just -- quite still.” He’d never taken anyone with him before, and really didn’t think it’d be keen if he did it wrong.
“I trust you.” Wilson smiled, leaning up to kiss Percy before laying down again and closing his eyes.
Waiting until the overwhelming fondness that he was feeling died down a little (just enough to concentrate), Percy adjusted his glasses, held on tight to Wilson’s arm and --
CRACK!
They were on the bed. Before allowing himself to be satisfied or smug he looked around carefully to make sure they they both still had all their limbs and all. “Well.”
Wilson blinked. “Huh. That wasn’t awful. I’m kind of nauseated, is that common?” Wilson kind of thought it was fun.
“I forgot about that part,” Percy admitted, although wasn’t sure how it was possible since he’d spent the first two days of practicing retching after every try. He was, admittedly, a little absent about it. “I think I did quite well. Brilliant. Oh. Do you need a waste bin?”
Wilson shook his head. “Strong stomach.” One didn’t get to be a surgeon by throwing up all the time. He looked up at Percy and beamed. “I’m proud of you, you know. Something tells me that magic takes practice too.”
“Some does,” Percy agreed, taking credit when given because he was just that sort of man. He did well on praise. “I suppose dreaming about it helps.” Then he flopped back onto the bed in a mess of pillows. “We’ll have to do that more. I don’t think I could manage long distances just yet.”
“We’ll practice together,” Wilson smiled. He was completely fine with being a wizard’s assistant, even if he was about as magical as broccoli. “I forgot to ask, how’d your family take it when you brought me to that party?” He hoped Percy’s parents were as okay with it as his own were.
Broccoli was totally magical. In that it was delicious and good for you.
"Oh. Well. They seemed alright with it." His parents hadn't been there, of course. But the Twins did have pretty large mouths. He'd heard about from his parents still a few days later. How they'd managed to get his work number was really just beyond him. “My mother thinks you sound like a very nice young man.”
“She does know I’m not young, right?” Wilson laughed. “I’ve never been a very nice young man. Or if I have, maybe I was twenty years ago.” He grinned and kissed Percy lightly, running his fingers over Percy’s spine.
Straightening out a bit at the touch, as if the might provide more skin to offer up, Percy let out a snort of a sound and buried his cheek in a pillow. “You aren’t that old. But I tried telling her. I don’t know she was listening.” That was nothing new with his family.
“Well, I’ll try not to sweep her off of her feet if I meet her. I’m kind of debonair, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.” Wilson grinned, nibbling on Percy’s neck. “Suave. I’m Cary Grant reborn.”
Percy’s wry expression probably went unnoticed what with all that neck nibbling, and he couldn’t say he was really sorry about that. Idly, he scratched at Wilson’s shoulder and tilted his head back a little further. “I appreciate you restraining yourself.”
“It wouldn’t do to charm you to death, now would it?” Wilson took advantage of Percy’s stretching and gently nibbled further down, running his fingers lightly over Percy’s stomach. “I kind of wanted to keep you for a while.”
"It would be counter productive to emphasis the importance of naps only to kill me off some other way," Percy agreed mildly -- his words ended with a little squeak of a noise when Wilson's teeth brushed against a ticklish spot near his ribs.
“Killing you isn’t my goal. I want to keep you healthy for many, many years.” Wilson moved his hands, kneeling above Percy to press a kiss to the spot he’d just tickled. “We haven’t even made a dent in the centaur porn genre.”
“You’re stuck with me,” Percy assured, reaching up to settle his fingers on hipbones (even from a different angle it was his spot, and he’d hear nothing different on the matter.
“That can’t actually be a genre though. More like... one freak accident?” Then again, Wilson had gotten pretty good at the voices.
“Percy, I’ve found at least ten, all by different writers. It’s a genre.” Wilson continued to kiss his way down Percy’s chest, over his stomach, and down to his trim hips.
“I might have liked staying in denial, James.” Because only they could talk about centaur orgies while making out. “Mm, that’s nice.” The kisses, not the centaurs. Gosh.
“I wasn’t aware you liked centaurs so much,” Wilson joked. He could pretend to be oblivious for comedic effect, especially when after the joke he nipped Percy’s hip and lightly trailed his tongue closer to center.
Pointedly, Wilson’s quip went ignored. Sometimes that was a thing that needed to happen, lest they both become too interested in their own shenanigans to keep up with what they were originally doing.
He sucked in a little breath, anticipatory, and carded his fingers through Wilson’s hair.
Gently nipping at the skin just above Percy’s erection, Wilson let his fingers trail lower, cupping him gently before taking him into his mouth. From centaur porn to blowjobs; Wilson was nothing if not versatile.
Just so long as no one thought that was on the same level. Of anything. Ever. Percy’s sense of humor only went so far, after all.
“Oh,” he said, in that little way that spoke several tomes worth of being pleased. Sometimes he liked this better than sex.
Wilson looked up, wishing he could smirk but finding it was really difficult to do so with one’s mouth full. Instead, he reached out to thread his fingers with Percy’s, squeezing tightly. Sometimes this just felt more intimate.
Both had their advantages. Percy particularly liked this act because of how aware he was that Wilson seemed to enjoy doing it so greatly.
Beneficially, he was also just really very good at it.
Fingers threaded together with James, Percy too a second to boost himself up on his free elbow.
Wilson had had a lot of practice. He’d not been with as many men as he had with women, but the men he’d been with he’d had more sex with than anyone else. That, and it all boiled down to Wilson wanting to be a people pleaser. He wanted to make Percy happier than he’d ever been in his life.
And Percy kept telling him that that wasn't exactly a hard sell, but Wilson just kept on trying. And that was fine. Percy liked it. Liked how Wilson gave him that extra sense of stability when he sometimes needed it most. He was happy, as often as he could be.
And without waxing too poetic, he also really just liked blow jobs.
Blow jobs were pretty awesome. And Wilson liked giving them, so it all worked out. Wilson also liked the sound Percy made when Wilson managed to work himself all the way down to the base of Percy’s erection, the smallest bit of Percy in his throat. That was a good noise. Wilson was pleased to be able to do it.
Good thing, since Percy was making that noise now -- a breathy little moan that might have embarrassed him more a few months ago when he made it. Now it just seemed natural. He closed his eyes for a moment, fingers tightening in Wilson's hair and hips rolling just so.
Wilson’s hips rolled in turn, grinding against the mattress. Percy was one of those people who was so unassumingly sexy that Wilson had to fight the urge every so often to do exactly what he was doing in that moment in very public places. He was fairly sure that if he’d acted on every impulse he had while around Percy, they’d be banned from every restaurant they’d ever gone to.
Looking up, Wilson moved off of Percy for a moment, just so he could breathe before pushing himself upward to kiss him again. “For our honeymoon, I figured out where I want to go. Anywhere, as long as we don’t leave bed for the week.”
Percy pulled him closer until they were flush and near and Wilson didn't feel the need to bring onto the mattress anymore, and instead on him. Friction didn't get enough credit some days.
"Mm? Oh?" Percy asked between kisses. "I don't think I could agree more."
Friction was fantastic, and Wilson found that he could make himself breathless just by grinding his hips into Percy’s. “We should probably practice, though.” There were wedding rehearsals, why not honeymoon rehearsals?
Percy’s only response was a little groan (not the bad kind, either), before he pulled Wilson closer and gave the other man a very enthusiastic kiss. The redhead was very studious and did very much like practice, after all.
Wilson was aware that he’d had Percy from the word practice. They’d both been very studious in university, and it helped that they both enjoyed homework. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around Percy, trying to pull him as close as possible.
They couldn’t really get any closer though - they were already a jumble of limbs and flesh pressed against flesh -- Percy was starting to doubt how much he liked friction again because even just this was a little too much, and he gave a noise half between a sigh and a whimper for -- more and less at the same time. Conundrums were sexy.
“You pick what you want. I’m spoiling you tonight,” Wilson murmured. He rocked his hips against Percy, a slow, circular tease that set their erections at odds with each other. “Every so often I just want to give you everything you want.” Mostly on days that ended in ‘y’.
It didn’t seem prudent to point out that Wilson pretty much always seemed to be spoiling him, because there was no reason to fix what wasn’t broken. Percy was all about equality, and he felt they traded off who did what a fairly even amount, but he wouldn’t lie if he didn’t say he kind of preferred the bottom. It really wasn’t his fault that Wilson gave him the option for picking so often.
“You top,” he said, but not before biting Wilson’s shoulder just because it was in reach, and seemed a perfectly decent reaction to the slow rub.
Wilson liked to give the option because he was well aware he was above average in length and girth (something that had always been a topic of discussion at the nurse’s station), but he also knew that sometimes random fancies took Percy. Wilson was no different. But Wilson did like being on top, so he didn’t argue. Instead he rolled over to grab lubricant out of the nightstand. He decided that he’d stop using condoms the moment he knew that he and Percy were clean and committed. He wondered if Percy would notice.
After slicking his fingers, Wilson reached down to press his fingers in, carefully, slowly. While working Percy open, he lowered his head as well, resuming what he’d been doing with his mouth before. If he could get Percy off a couple of times, so much the better.
If there was one thing that Wilson did well (which was laughable, because Wilson did countless things well, but we’re speaking hypothetically here), it was make sure that Percy would sleep exceptionally well during the night.
Still up on one elbow, Percy had to adjust his glasses with his free hand -- not because he needed to see particularly well, but because he had to find a way to distract himself a little -- while he was still good to recover and get a do over, that didn’t mean he wanted to be so fast about it. Pacing: it was difficult.
Wilson looked up to see how Percy was feeling. Moving off of him, he cocked his head. “Okay?” Complete sentences were hard to do whilst erect.
“Really okay,” Percy said with a huff of laugh that was a little on the distracted side. “Too okay?” A pause. “That’s really just very nice and -- you know.” Percy still had the habit of being awkward at the oddest of times. It was okay.
“Mmhmm,” Wilson grinned, resuming. Since he knew that Percy was too okay, that meant that what he’d been doing had the desired effects. Flicking his tongue a bit more, Wilson moved faster.
Wilson was evil.
But it was a good kind of evil. Mostly. Percy let out a mostly silly hum of appreciation that turned a little gaspy by the end of it, and couldn’t seem to stop himself. Jesus, where had he even learned that tongue movement? “James - god--”
Wilson didn’t want Percy to stop. Because Percy was bottoming, he’d be okay to get off before the actual penetrative stuff, and it would likely make it all that much more anyway. Besides. Wilson was evil, keep up, Reader.
The reader is duly aware. And so was Percy -- a mess of nerve endings and silly (but pleased) little noises when he came. Never with warning. Warning was stupid, and for people who weren’t engaged to evil, mind reading oncologists.
Fortunately for Percy, Wilson didn’t choke or anything. Because explaining to a 911 operator what it was your fiancé was choking on when it wasn’t food or anything but ejaculate would be terribly embarrassing. Looking up, Wilson moved until he was kneeling, slicking over his own tragically neglected erection and smiling down at Percy.
Well, if Wilson choked and died, at least he could be assured of the knowledge that Percy would soon follow -- dead over the embarrassment of that sort of phone call.
Cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded behind glasses, Percy gave a half smile. “Hi.” because that was what everyone said after a really good blowjob.
Pressing in slowly, Wilson leaned down to kiss Percy’s neck. “Still doing all right?” Small talk after blowjobs was what everyone did, right?
Percy sighed a little sigh that said he was, in fact, doing alright. More than. His fingers found a very handy resting spot on Wilson’s shoulders and he tilted his hips up a little more for easier -- maneuverability? “Oh. Yes.”
Nibbling at Percy’s neck, Wilson’s hips rolled in a languid, lazy, easy pace that Percy could arch into or not, depending on how he felt. It was a pace more loving than anything, designed to let Percy get comfortable.
Why Percy wouldn’t arch into it was beyond him. Fingers dug themselves a little spot in the curve of Wilson’s back and he made a little noise that was -- it was just a noise, really. A Percy type noise, so probably surprised for no reason.
Smiling, Wilson moved a little faster, not speedy by any means, but faster than he’d been going before. He wanted to make sure that Percy continued to enjoy himself, that this wouldn’t cause him pain. Running calloused fingers over Percy’s chest, Wilson groaned quietly.
Percy was good. It wasn’t like this was new -- they both knew what was going on here, and it was bloody well awesome. Not that he’d say that outloud because manners were important. But still.
He squirmed a little, just to find a proper pace to roll his hips with, and wholeheartedly agreed with Wilson’s groan. He meant to say something, but really couldn’t think of what.
Moving faster, Wilson let his head rest against Percy’s chest as he rolled his hips a bit faster. He wanted to see if Percy could finish again, even though he wanted to get off himself a tiny bit more. He couldn’t help it.
Percy could hardly begrudge that sort of thought -- it wasn’t like he hadn’t already had a turn. As it was, he was never opposed to more than once, but certainly didn’t require it -- and even if he was younger than Wilson’ he still needed more than a few minutes to recover.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy this all on it’s own. Even if Wilson’s hair was tickling him. He let out a little whimper of a laugh.
Grinning, Wilson playfully nipped Percy on the neck, trying and failing to resist the urge to tickle Percy’s sides a bit. “I know I’m old, but really? Laughing?” He liked to tease Percy, and hoped that Percy knew he liked laughing at any time.
Tickling was never appreciated though, and Percy gripped Wilson's hand and just held it so that he might avoid more torture in the future. "Mm- well," he said and then bit his lower lip, amused straight up until Wilson hit a particularly perfect spot and he had to gasp a little instead.
But he would not be deterred when it came to sassing. "There are worse reactions, surely." Complete sentences!
“I’m - sure,” Wilson managed to get out. Making Percy gasp like that became his only objective, and he moved so he was kneeling, thrusting harder, eyes closed tightly.
It always made Percy's stomach go funny when Wilson got determined like so -- it also made him inexplicably hold on to his fiancé for dear life, as if he might fall off or over or -- something that wasn't actually likely to happen, since they didn't tend to have sex on things that required much balance in the first place.
He tilted his head back, licked his lower lip and murmured appreciation. Or maybe just random words. It was hard to tell sometimes.
Wilson was getting closer, but he was pretty sure that Percy was still Far. So he did something he’d never done for anyone before, something he wasn’t sure he could even really do. He stopped. He pulled out, and kissed Percy’s stomach before taking him back into his mouth, deeper than he had before. The element of surprise would likely be to Wilson’s advantage and he knew it.
Percy gave a noise of surprise that was somewhere between a yelp and a squeaky toy for small dogs. “Jesu-- ohh. God. Really?” But he wasn’t actually complaining because wow and damn.
Bearing off of him, Wilson took Percy in hand and pumped him while he talked. “Yes, really. You’re getting off again, Percy.” His tone was firm; Wilson wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.
“Oh,” Percy said, and was embarrassed for just how blearily the word came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat, licked his lips and then closed his eyes. Hello, delicious nearly oversensitivity. “Okay.”
Wilson knew exactly how it would feel, almost so good it hurt, a delicious mingling of pain and pleasure that would feel like it was breaking him in half. Wilson continued sucking for a few moments before moving off of Percy and pressing back into him with a whimper.
He’d lost his words completely by then -- wrecked completely in only the best of ways, and Percy pulled Wilson down to wrap his arms around his neck -- hooked an ankle around his thigh and only echoed that little whimper.
Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer, Wilson just moved a little faster, groaning loudly and trying not to lose himself completely right away. He managed to last a few more minutes before crying out loudly and nearly collapsing on top of Percy. “Son of a bitch,” he sighed.
Percy didn’t cry out, but made a little noise in the back of his throat that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to repeat or explain later on when asked. Generally, he agreed with Wilson’s assessment though. They were both sweaty and messy and magic could have fixed it probably, but sometimes Percy was sure that a shower was the only possible cure for some things.
He let out a tired, silly huff of a noise and pressed his forehead to the curve of Wilson’s shoulder. “You’ve never even met her,” he said, mildly.
That made Wilson laugh loudly, and he pulled Percy closer. “I wasn’t even talking to you, yeesh.” He ran his fingers through Percy’s damp hair, kissing him gently. “Percy? We should get married soonish. Next year at the latest. I just ... I don’t know. You’re too good for me to let you get away and that makes me sound like a serial killer,” he blinked.
"It kind of does." Percy was a big fan of agreeing with truthful statements. He took another kiss because even numbers were important sometimes and then nuzzled closer which shouldn't have been possible, but kind of was, anyway.
"Okay." He didn't think James was wrong, even if he did sound like a serial killer, and Percy wasn't actually going anywhere even if they didn't have a bit of paper that said neither could legally run away without a lot of paperwork first. "October."
James Wilson giggled a little, rolling off of Percy so that they could cuddle on their sides, away from the wet spot. There were numerous benefits of having a king sized bed. “I’ll work on sounding less like Dahmer or something in time for the wedding.
He smiled and gave Percy a slight Eskimo kiss. “I’ve never had a Fall wedding,” he beamed. “Do you want to do something huge with your family, or just go to the building where they do things like that and get it over with in an hour or so?” Wilson enjoyed spoiling Percy, so if Percy wanted a huge wedding, Wilson would be more than happy to oblige him.
It was greedy, but he'd picked Fall just so that they could go somewhere with brisk (but not cold) weather on their honeymoon, and he could delight in staring at Wilson in a variety of sweaters.
Was that weird? That was probably weird.
"I don't know," he said, pulling a little face and grappling for his wand from the night stand. He could at least magic away the mess on them both before the shower that he was going to demand very soon. "Can't there be something in between?" Huge was too much of a show, but he supposed if he was only going to do this the once, he should probably have some amount of grandeur about it.
“We can do a quiet thing with families only at a vineyard upstate or something. That woman who’s ballsy enough to date your brothers, she has a nice wedding space.” A little autumn ceremony on a vineyard sounded like heaven.
Sometimes Percy forgot that the twins were dating the same woman. Sometimes, when he remembered, he tried very hard to forget. Still. He tilted his mouth into a thoughtful frown and hmmed a little. "That sounds… nice. Really nice, actually. I suppose I should speak with her sometime soon, in that case." Percy was nothing if not both on the ball and organized.
“If you don’t have enough time, I can too, if you like.” Wilson smiled. Sometimes it was almost too easy being in a relationship with someone as organized as he was.
"We'll figure it out," Percy murmured and then sighed heavily when he sat up as if it hadn't been his own idea to do it in the first place. "For now? Shower."
“Can you poof us into it?” Wilson grinned, nibbling a little at Percy’s shoulder.
"Best not to, if we want to keep our limbs attached. I'm not sure I could concentrate for it properly at the moment." He made a face that was somewhere between God, get up and walk and apologetic.
That made Wilson laugh. “You just want to see my bottom,” he grinned. Sitting up, Wilson stretched and stood. “Come on, gorgeous. I owe you a backrub.”
“I want to see your bottom still attached,” Percy corrected with a little sniff as he pulled himself off of the bed, and then very pointedly waited for Wilson to do the same so he could stare at said ass.
“That’s kind of you,” Wilson smiled, kissing Percy and walking to the bathroom. His ass was pretty fantastic.
“That’s just the sort of man I am,” Percy agreed, and made a show of looking very hard before following. Right. Shower.