Chapter Text
Percy watches Oliver flying from his window until they all touch down for lunch. Then, he lays on his covers and looks at the ceiling. He closes his eyes and tries to remember what it felt like when Oliver was around. A little less controlled, never quiet, always happy. A sort of presence that starts solid but then dissolves into your skin and changes the atmosphere of everything, sends a charge through the air. Oliver moves differently and speaks differently and loves differently.
He’s unique. How he ever looked at Percy and saw something except the mold of a ministry man, Percy will never know.
He opens his eyes and realizes that he hasn’t thought about Fred or death in an hour.
Some things never change.
Including…
The door bursts open. Oliver is standing in the doorway, obviously irritated. “You didn’t come watch me play. You always watch me play.”
Its true. Percy hasn’t missed a single game since they graduated. He doesn’t realize Oliver knew.
“I had a less than ideal interaction with my family earlier,” Percy confesses. The charge in the air is there, dissolving into Percy. He aches again. “I thought it best to remain up here.”
“And not eat? You said you were eating?”
“Why do you care so much?”
Oliver purses his lips. He doesn’t turn around but uses his foot to kick the door shut. “We’re still friends, Perce.”
“I question your taste in friends.”
“From my recollection, you taste rather good.”
Percy shoots into a sitting position. Oliver looks smug, challenging, and Percy loves him. “This isn’t a joke, Ollie.”
“I’m not joking, love.” Oliver sits next to him on the bed. They’re centimeters apart. Oliver smells like the Sunday roast Molly made. “We are still friends. Everyone makes mistakes, people move on. It’s stupid to hold grudges, after everything. Your family has forgiven you, you forgive them, you move on.”
“They didn’t do anything wrong—
“We lived together for seven years. I remember the tears and the hurt your siblings caused you. They were never really good to you. Your best, which is the best, was never enough. I remember that. You’ve never seen your own worth. That’s why you try so hard to be perfect, but it has to stop. You have to stop trying to be something that’s good enough for everyone because we all fall short. For once, decide who you want to be for yourself. Not for your parents, not for Fred, not for the ministry. For yourself.”
Slowly, Percy reaches us and touches Oliver’s cheeks. There’s a brief moment where he contemplates trying to kiss Oliver, but he thinks better of it and goes for a hug. Oliver smiles before he moves closer and wraps his arms around Percy. Having always been taller and bigger, Oliver made for a good cuddle partner. Percy tucks his head into his ex-boyfriend’s chest and breathes. Underneath the smell of the roast, there’s a faint trace of grass that seems to always accompany the quidditch player.
Oliver smiles sadly as the noise downstairs lessens, meaning that the little get-together is breaking up."I should go."
"Of course," Percy says, trying to hide his sadness. "It was nice to see you again."
Oliver presses a kiss to Percy's cheekbone. “I’ll see you later, love.”
He leaves.
Percy aches.
And then he makes a decision.
)-(
They have another family meeting, the night before Fred’s game. Percy apologizes for what he hinted at days before. He says he’s going to keep working at the joke shop, but that Kingsley has offered him a work-from-home position. He’ll spend one day a week at the ministry, working under Kingsley and helping with international relations because of the connections he’s made over the years. Other than that, he'll assist Kingsley by owl post.
He finishes by saying he’s making plans and trying to have a future.
Molly smiles and cries. Arthur is proud. His siblings clap him on the back.
“That’s not all.” Percy clears his throat. “Mum, Dad…I’m gay.”
Arthur is surprised. Molly is less so.
“Is there anyone special?” Molly asks hesitantly.
Percy thinks about lying.
He decides against it. There’s been enough of that between him and his family. “I love Oliver Wood. I am in love with Oliver Wood. Always have been, really.”
They are both surprised.
)-(
Percy sits in the commentator’s box next to Lee Jordan. The teams have just started the match, and Hermione has just closed the ticket office because they are sold out. She places herself next to him with a small smile. “Who is going to win?”
“Harry and Oliver are one team,” Percy says lightly. “Their combined talent is enough to combat Ginny’s scoring, I think.”
“I never was able to get into quidditch or understanding it,” Hermione sighed. “Even from an academic point of view. How did you do it?”
“A combination of Ron and Oliver,” Percy says easily. “Ron always needed someone to chat with when Fred and George wouldn’t let him play.”
“And Oliver?”
“Well, he never shut up about quidditch. When we got closer, I wanted to know everything, so I could properly support him. Then, as the years passed I grew to have a sort of affection for it. Don’t know if its because of him or because I actually enjoyed the game, but look at him go.”
Oliver swerves around a hoop gracefully, like he’s part of the broom. He raises his body up catch the quaffle, letting himself roll away from a bludger immediately after. He made an expert throw to Angelina.
“Magnificent,” Percy sighs.
“Did you ever fly?”
“Ginny tried teaching me, but I was too textbook for her. She’s so natural with it, more than any of us. Even Charlie.”
Percy doesn’t tell her about the time that he and Oliver snuck down to the quidditch pitch the night before his graduation. He doesn’t tell her that Oliver stuck Percy on a broom and wrapped his arms around the redhead. He remembers how they flew for hours until the sun came up and Oliver pushed Percy to the grass of the pitch and they made love.
Oliver has always loved pushing boundaries, and Percy often found himself helpless to the others.
“Maybe Ron can teach me. I have to get over the fear at some point, right?”
Percy is brought back to the present. He pats Hermione’s hand. “I think you should just have him take you flying. Its better when you just get to hold on and enjoy the view.”
Hermione smiles like she knows and leans her head on Percy’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, Percy. You were always my favorite.”
Percy lets her lean against him. “One can never have too many sisters. I’m glad you stayed.”
)-(
Oliver and Harry win, of course. Few goals make it past Oliver and Harry catches the snitch before Charlie gets the first glimpse. The stadium empties out and a party is happening at the joke shop. Percy knows it’s a terrible idea and arrives early to lock up anything too dangerous. He enjoys the quiet, knowing that soon he will leave because he still can’t stand the noise.
The door dings to alert him someone is there. He assumes its George or Ron and doesn’t move from his spot behind the counter. He simply finishes putting the money away and locks the safe before popping up.
Naturally, its Oliver.
“Ollie,” he says softly. The other man must have gone home and showered, because the tips of his hair are wet and he’s wearing normal muggle clothes. Percy doesn’t think a scarf has ever been more attractive. “Hello.”
“Hello,” Oliver chuckles back. “I’ve got to ask—why’ve you been wearing so many sweaters? It’s a good look, but not your usual style. You always wore dress robes.”
“I’m trying to break free of that,” Percy admits. He pushes his glasses up his nose as Oliver comes closer. “I’m not one for the fashion of today, though. Sweaters are easy. Comfortable. Timless.”
“They work for you,” Oliver says. He begins to remove his scarf and his overcoat. The simple action makes Percy’s mouth water. How long as it been since he’s touched Oliver’s bare skin? Licked his way down the muscled torso and tasted him?
“You deserve another award,” Percy murmurs, biting at Oliver’s collarbone. The other boy whimpers. “You played beautifully.”
“We won because of Harry,” Oliver croaks. His eyes close as Percy strips him of clothing and falls to his knees. “Fuck, Percy you look good down there. So fucking—
“You really should learn new words.” Percy sucks a lovebite onto Oliver’s hip bone as he waves his hand and the trousers disappear. “But go on. Tell me how good I am.”
He takes Oliver’s half-hard dick in his mouth, and the quidditch captain suddenly struggles to stand. Percy revels in the sounds he draws from Oliver, the hands in hair, and the way Oliver encourages him. “So good, Percy. You’re a miracle. Bloody fucking miracle.”
Percy desperately tries to shake the memory away. “You look good, Oliver. I didn’t mention the other day, but you do. Healthy, strong. And I never said, about your dad—
“You didn’t have to,” Oliver assures him. He smiles sadly. “They told me how you were the one to pull my father’s body away from the fray to close his eyes and let him be protected.”
“Still, I’m sorry,” Percy offered.
They stand in silence for a moment before Oliver surges forward. He splays his hands across the counter that divides them. “We need to have a real conversation.”
“We talked the other night.”
“Hardly.”
“Well what do you want to talk about?”
“How I should have come to you, after the war. To tell you that I’m sorry about Fred, but I’m not sorry that you’re alive.”
Percy restrains from lunging at the man across from him, which means Percy aches.
“Ollie, please—
“No, I’m serious,” Oliver cuts him off. “I never stopped loving you. I know we never said it, you have trouble with emotions, I understand that, but I did love you. I do love you.”
Percy hands are shaking. “I don’t deserve it, Oliver, I’ve never deserved it. It’s never made sense to me.”
“How could I not love you?” Oliver exclaims. He walks around the counter and is too close to Percy for him to hold back. He smells too good, feels too warm. “You and your brilliant mind that I can never compete with, your willingness to learn for the people you love. You always supported my career, always told me that there is more than meets the eye with every person we meet. You love selectively, but you do love deeply. You let me see the fun side of you.”
“I didn’t have a fun side,” Percy shoots back. He needs Oliver to understand. “The person you loved only existed when you were around. Do you think I would have let Penny shag me on the quidditch field? Do you think I would have snuck away from Hogsmeade to see a muggle picture show with Ron? Helped Fred and George prank someone?”
“Just because you have fun with books and cauldrons doesn’t mean you aren’t someone worth loving, you daft man. You have passion and drive, you see things differently than everyone else!”
“And my ambition, that led me away from my family? How is that forgivable?”
“Because when Voldemort took over, you wrote new laws that crumbled at the first sign of resistance. You stayed away to protect them.”
Percy stops talking. “How did you know about that?”
“Angelina and I are still like family, Percy, and Harry and I are closer than you might think,” Oliver sighs. He moves closer and crowds Percy against display shelves. “They’re around you often, and Harry’s rather insightful.”
“Do my good actions excuse the bad?”
“The world is not black and white, love. Life is not simple, and choices are not always easy. In the end, though, you made the right decision and you came home. You chose love of your family over career. I just wonder…I know we decided to go separate ways when we graduated for both of our jobs, but things are different now. Can you do it again? Love over career?”
“I want to be a professional quidditch player,” Oliver says. “I’m going to make it to the national team.”
“You are,” Percy agrees. They kiss, twisted beneath the mountain range of Hogsmeade. “And I’m going to be Prime Minister.”
“The wizarding world is too traditional.”
“We’d never make it, but there are laws against it.”
Oliver’s lips wondered down Percy’s neck as his hand drifted lower. “I’m going to lay you down one more time.”
His free hand immobilizes Percy’s wrists above their hands.
“You’re going to say you’re mine.”
Percy whimpers and nods as teeth nip at the sensitive spot above his collar bone.
“And when we go our separate ways, you’re never going to forget what it feels like to have me inside you. Just like I’ll never forget how perfect you are, how good you feel and sweet you sound.”
Percy loves him, Percy wants him—forever.
“Promise me.”
“I promise, I do, Ollie,” Percy gasps as Oliver continues to kiss him anywhere but his mouth, teasing and drawing the answer from him. “I promise.”
“I never forgot,” Percy says now. His hands tentatively reach out and lay against the shirt Oliver’s wearing. He feels the heavy thrum of a heartbeat. “I never forgot what it felt like to have you inside me.”
Oliver’s lips part. His head tilts back, just so, as his eyes close. Percy takes a chance and slides his hands down his chest, waist, hips, hands. Their fingers link and they stand flush against each other.
“I’ve not forgotten,” Oliver whispers. Their foreheads rest against each other. “How perfect you are, how good you feel, and how sweet you sound.”
“My career means nothing anymore,” Percy breathes. “I love you.”
Oliver kisses him. Its something like their first one, that night before they left the sixth year of Hogwarts. Percy’s lips open so he can moan around Oliver’s tongue as hands are suddenly bruising his hips for holding on so tightly. He isn’t sure how it happens, but he fists his hands in Oliver’s shirt and he ends up sitting on the counter, legs around Oliver’s waist and hating that they’re wearing jeans.
Breaking the kiss, Oliver moves his mouth to nip at Percy’s collarbone, drawing a cry from him. In retaliation, Percy rakes his nails into Oliver’s scalp and enjoys how the other man groans, mouthing at pale skin and desperately trying to press closer. Percy thinks the sensations are going to drive him mad, that they’re going to rut against each other like teenagers and come in less than a minute. When Oliver grinds his hips up, Percy whimpers his name.
“You still feel so good,” Oliver murmurs into Percy’s ear. “Still taste good, look good, sound good. How could I make you understand?”
Percy’s held falls back as Oliver licks up the expanse of his neck. “I always thought I was so lucky to have you, have your attentions. I didn’t care why. I wanted you so bad, for years.”
“You had me, always,” Oliver promises. “Why do you think I always needed to claim you? Hear you say you were mine? I belonged to you and I wanted you to feel the same.”
Percy pulls Oliver’s lips back to his. They kiss again, for what seems like ages and seconds at the same time, until Percy is trembling with need and Oliver is blinking back tears.
“You’re perfect, Percy,” Oliver says. “All your mistakes and ambitions and this fucking black sweater that looks better than it should.”
Percy realizes that Oliver means it. He’s always meant it.
“You two are not shagging in the shop!” George groaned. “Blimey, Oliver, what have you done to our brother?”
“Nothing yet,” Oliver winks. He pulls Percy off the counter and the Weasley man has no option but to hold tightly to his lover. “We’ll be back for the party.”
Percy looks down at the heat in Oliver’s gaze. Without looking away, he laughs because he’s happy. Oliver pulls his wand into his hand, turns and apparates on the spot.