Author's note: I've finally got round to writing something that wasn't a
book order. It's been a while since I've been in the mood to write
anything, but last night I got inspiration, and this is the result. I don't
quite know whether there's going to be any more of this. I'm not sure
whether I've reached the end of the road with it or not. Hmmmm. Watch this
space.
As always, please leave feedback - I love to hear what people think. If you do want to flame please be aware that I don't pay heed to anyone who isn't brave enough to leave a name and email.
Part Eight.
"I thought you couldn't wait to get back in here and start working again, Mr I'm-too-busy-to-take-a-break-and-watch-my-roommate-practice." Oliver threw his muddy, damp Quidditch robes over the back of the sofa and raised an eyebrow.
Percy, who had been guiltily devouring a mars bar whilst peering out of the window to see if he could spot any stray Quidditch players from the privacy of his own room, blushed. "I was just taking a break." he mumbled, wiping stray chocolate away with a flick of his handkerchief. Hastily, he took his place back at the table, and attempted to look busy, surrounded by History of Magic notes and seven different coloured pots of ink and quills.
"This from the boy who doesn't take breaks." Oliver grinned, and picked up his towel from where he'd deposited it that morning, on the floor by his bed. He'd seen Percy eyeing it with a certain distaste as they'd left for breakfast, and just to see that cute muscle in his room mate's cheek flex in irritation, he'd given it a kick for good measure. "I must be having a good influence on you," he murmured, leaning over the table and brushing away a bit of chocolate from Percy's cheek with a gentle sweep of his thumb, "I bet if I were to open your wardrobe right this instant, I might find that your clothes are no longer organised by type and colour. and, shock horror.there might be a shirt in amongst the trousers!"
"Stop taking the piss, Quidditch boy." Percy could still feel the imprint of Oliver's thumb on his cheek, and the memory was doing all sorts of strange, jumpy things to his insides. "No one is important enough to cause my wardrobe organisation to fall into disrepair." He managed to keep a straight face for a moment, before grinning, "Now bugger off, smelly, before I have to accuse you of disrupting my important study time."
"I am not smelly." Oliver mumbled petulantly, "I smell lovely."
Percy didn't look up from his notes. "Yeah, like roses in the summertime."
"Now who's taking the piss?"
"Get out, before I have to kill you."
"You wouldn't dare." Oliver stuck his tongue out at the head boy, who was valiantly attempting to hide his laughter.
"Watch me."
Oliver skipped out the room, avoiding a barrage of flying bananas - all of which disappeared upon contact with the bedroom wall - as he did so.
As he heard the bedroom door shut behind the other boy, Percy couldn't help but let his own fingers graze the skin where Oliver had been, and wondered if life could always be this good.
*
"Agh!" Oliver took one last look at the scroll in front of him before scrunching it up and throwing it across the room. It hit the window and exploded in a storm of fireworks, before sliding down the wall and joining the remains of Oliver's other notes that had met the same fate during the evening.
Percy raised an eyebrow, and glanced down at the charred remains of Oliver's History of Magic notes, "I hope they weren't too important, Ol." He remarked, also hoping they wouldn't leave a mark on the carpet.
"Shut up Perce." Oliver shut his book with a bang, and stormed across the room to his bed.
For a moment, Percy watched as Oliver screamed into his pillow, before making the momentous decision to wander across the room to see what was wrong with his roommate. Perching awkwardly on the end of the bed, he patted Oliver's leg. "What's wrong?" he mumbled, "Are you alright?"
Oliver manoeuvred round so he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin. "No."
Percy smiled. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong then?"
"I can't do it." he bit his lip, and refused to meet the other boy's eye. "It doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't remember any of this shit."
Percy tried not to smile, remembering what Dumbledore had said about everyone overlooking Oliver's intelligence. It looked like Oliver himself was guilty of the same crime as everyone else. "Why do you think that?" Softly, he let his hand rest on Oliver's knee. "You passed potions, didn't you?"
"With your help." Oliver murmured. "And anyway, its not like we know for certain. results aren't out for ages yet."
"Well. I'll help you again. If that's what you want." His thumb was gently stroking Oliver's knee, feeling the soft skin beneath the tracksuit bottoms. Oliver always slung on comfy clothes after Quidditch practice, whilst Percy always felt self conscious in anything so casual, and was guardedly envious of the other boy's insouciance.
"Sometimes. do you know what I wish?" Oliver's hand pressed lightly against the other boy's.
Percy shook his head wordlessly, concentrating on Oliver's tender touch.
"Sometimes I wish that I was clever enough to do things on my own. That I wasn't some kind of loser who had to rely on his." Oliver struggled with the terminology, "best friend to get him through his exams."
"Sometimes I wish," Percy broke in, "that I was good enough to fly on my broomstick and not fall off. But I'm not. I fall off every time I get on the bloody thing." He let his eyes meet Percy's, and for a second, he was lost. "We all have our crosses to bear." Oliver tried to interrupt, but Percy held up his hand for silence, in his best head boy manner, "But it isn't the same for you, Olly. You can pass these exams - with or without my help." He smiled, gently, and took Oliver's hands in his. He felt their weight, the calluses from too many hours on a broom, the slight tremor as Oliver struggled to keep a hold on his emotions, "You just need my reassurance, because you don't think highly enough of yourself."
"Shut up." Oliver mumbled, trying to pull away.
Percy had an amazingly strong grip when he tried. ".Because you don't think you're worth it," He repeated, "You don't think you're clever enough to pass these damn exams. You bloody are. You can pass them. And. do you know what?" he let go of Oliver's hands, and moved a little closer to the other boy. With a gentle, trembling hand, he cupped Oliver's cheek, his thumb grazing the weather-beaten skin. He had the lightest grazing of stubble, and Percy fought the urge to just keep on stroking. "You know what?" he continued, "What the fuck does it matter anyway? Because I know just what sort of a person you are." The skin quavered beneath his touch; the other boy's eyes filling with tears. "You're the sort of person I respect, the sort of person I wish I could be. You're strong, you're kind, you're good looking, you're clever, you look fantastic on a broom,,," Percy took a deep breath, confused as to who was trembling most, "and I'd still love you, regardless of how you do."
"What did you just say?" Oliver grabbed Percy's wrist, stilling his touch
Percy reddened, and looked away. "I said. I love you." His voice was low, no more than a murmur.
"Oh. That's what I thought you said."
"I'm sorry." Percy pulled away, and stood up, his legs shaking. "I shouldn't have said anything."
Oliver didn't say anything, a tear escaping and sliding down his face. He watched as Percy stumbled away, his face pale and white beneath the freckles. He watched as Percy lent over the table, heard him taking deep breaths. He watched, stony faced, as Percy made his faltering way to the door. All the time unable to say a bloody word in case he cried all over the place and ruined his hard man reputation.
"I'm sorry," Percy mumbled once again, faltering as he got to the door.
"Perce." Oliver croaked, his voice finally springing into action, "Percy."
The hand on the door-knob stilled. A pale, freckled face turned to face him, hope etched across it. "What?"
"Why don't you get your arse over here, and finish what you started, head- boy." He met Percy's eyes; hope springing a-plenty. The quaver in his voice belied his inner nervousness, and for the long pause that succeeded, Oliver wondered if he hadn't just buggered everything up.
That muscle was going in Percy's cheek. The one Oliver loved. The one Oliver did everything he could to bring into action whenever possible. This time though, Oliver could have done without the added pressure.
"You're the quidditch player in this room." Percy murmured, biting his lip in anticipation, "You can mark me for a change."
Oliver didn't need telling twice.
"I love you." Percy whispered again, growing bolder by the second. Oliver stood opposite him, fists clenching and unclenching in nervousness.
With a halting, shaking hand, Oliver cupped Percy's cheek, his thumb grazing freckle after freckle. His eyes were wide in wonderment as Percy nuzzled his cheek. "Do you know what, head boy?" he murmured, his hand skimming Percy's ear and neck. He took a step closer, and could feel Percy's breath on his cheek.
"What." Percy's voice shook as he felt Oliver's touch on his neck, slowly inching him closer.
Oliver's arm slid around Percy's waist, pulling him close. For a second, he stared into Percy's eyes, amazed at what he read there. "I love you," Oliver breathed, his lips grazing the other boy's, tantalising. "I love you." He pressed his lips against Percy's, dry skin against dry skin. His tongue coerced an entrance into Percy's willing mouth, and he felt Percy's arms encircle him, the other boy's hands touching, stroking. his back, his neck, his hair. Oliver couldn't help but smile against the other boy; he'd always known it would be like this.
They didn't let go of each other, even as they moved across the room and onto the sofa. "You do realise, don't you," Oliver murmured, as his hands slipped under Percy's shirt, his hands stroking the soft skin, smiling as he kissed the other boy's neck, "that I'm only doing this because I need to get a good mark in my exam tomorrow."
Percy raised his head from where he was nuzzling his room mate's ear, "I know." he murmured, grinning, "Just like I'm only doing this because I've always wanted to be in with the popular guys."
Oliver pressed his lips to Percy's, "and it's absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I'm completely in love with you."
"No," Percy shook his head, his hands finding the ripple of muscles under Oliver's shirt, wetting his lips slightly before ducking his head to meet the other boy's, ".absolutely nothing to do with that."
"I love you."
"I know."
* Percy snuggled down so that his head was resting on Oliver's shoulder, Oliver kissing the top of his head. His hands slipped under the other boy's t-shirt, slowly stroking the warm, muscular chest.
"When was the last time you shaved?" Oliver asked ruefully, massaging his chin.
Percy raised an eyebrow, hiding a grin, "Was I just too much man for you?"
Oliver spluttered, "You'll never be too much man for me, head boy." He was pleased to see a blush spreading down the other boy's neck, and before he could help himself, he was peering down Percy's top, his curiosity having got the better of him. "Just seeing how far the blush spread, love." He explained, dropping a kiss on Percy's shoulder.
"Bugger off, you."
"Gladly." Oliver shrugged, his lips touching Percy's. "After all, there is revision to be done, which is the only reason I'm kissing you now."
"And after the exams are finished?" Percy breathed, his fingers in Oliver's hair.
"I'm going to have to help you learn to fly. Its going to take long hours of arduous practice."
"Long hours?"
Oliver bit gently on Percy's lower lip, "Long, long hours," he repeated, hearing the boy groan beneath him.
"I'm sure I can cope," Percy mumbled, his lips meeting Oliver's, his fingers grazing and skimming the other boy's skin.
For a second, there was silence. Percy was slowly stroking Oliver's face, staring into his eyes, a small smile playing on his face. "Joking aside," he murmured, pressing his lips to Oliver's forehead, "I do love you, you know."
"I know. Me too."
* Outside their window, the sun was setting, the sky a tumultuous haze of reds and pinks. Shepherds delight.
As always, please leave feedback - I love to hear what people think. If you do want to flame please be aware that I don't pay heed to anyone who isn't brave enough to leave a name and email.
Part Eight.
"I thought you couldn't wait to get back in here and start working again, Mr I'm-too-busy-to-take-a-break-and-watch-my-roommate-practice." Oliver threw his muddy, damp Quidditch robes over the back of the sofa and raised an eyebrow.
Percy, who had been guiltily devouring a mars bar whilst peering out of the window to see if he could spot any stray Quidditch players from the privacy of his own room, blushed. "I was just taking a break." he mumbled, wiping stray chocolate away with a flick of his handkerchief. Hastily, he took his place back at the table, and attempted to look busy, surrounded by History of Magic notes and seven different coloured pots of ink and quills.
"This from the boy who doesn't take breaks." Oliver grinned, and picked up his towel from where he'd deposited it that morning, on the floor by his bed. He'd seen Percy eyeing it with a certain distaste as they'd left for breakfast, and just to see that cute muscle in his room mate's cheek flex in irritation, he'd given it a kick for good measure. "I must be having a good influence on you," he murmured, leaning over the table and brushing away a bit of chocolate from Percy's cheek with a gentle sweep of his thumb, "I bet if I were to open your wardrobe right this instant, I might find that your clothes are no longer organised by type and colour. and, shock horror.there might be a shirt in amongst the trousers!"
"Stop taking the piss, Quidditch boy." Percy could still feel the imprint of Oliver's thumb on his cheek, and the memory was doing all sorts of strange, jumpy things to his insides. "No one is important enough to cause my wardrobe organisation to fall into disrepair." He managed to keep a straight face for a moment, before grinning, "Now bugger off, smelly, before I have to accuse you of disrupting my important study time."
"I am not smelly." Oliver mumbled petulantly, "I smell lovely."
Percy didn't look up from his notes. "Yeah, like roses in the summertime."
"Now who's taking the piss?"
"Get out, before I have to kill you."
"You wouldn't dare." Oliver stuck his tongue out at the head boy, who was valiantly attempting to hide his laughter.
"Watch me."
Oliver skipped out the room, avoiding a barrage of flying bananas - all of which disappeared upon contact with the bedroom wall - as he did so.
As he heard the bedroom door shut behind the other boy, Percy couldn't help but let his own fingers graze the skin where Oliver had been, and wondered if life could always be this good.
*
"Agh!" Oliver took one last look at the scroll in front of him before scrunching it up and throwing it across the room. It hit the window and exploded in a storm of fireworks, before sliding down the wall and joining the remains of Oliver's other notes that had met the same fate during the evening.
Percy raised an eyebrow, and glanced down at the charred remains of Oliver's History of Magic notes, "I hope they weren't too important, Ol." He remarked, also hoping they wouldn't leave a mark on the carpet.
"Shut up Perce." Oliver shut his book with a bang, and stormed across the room to his bed.
For a moment, Percy watched as Oliver screamed into his pillow, before making the momentous decision to wander across the room to see what was wrong with his roommate. Perching awkwardly on the end of the bed, he patted Oliver's leg. "What's wrong?" he mumbled, "Are you alright?"
Oliver manoeuvred round so he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin. "No."
Percy smiled. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong then?"
"I can't do it." he bit his lip, and refused to meet the other boy's eye. "It doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't remember any of this shit."
Percy tried not to smile, remembering what Dumbledore had said about everyone overlooking Oliver's intelligence. It looked like Oliver himself was guilty of the same crime as everyone else. "Why do you think that?" Softly, he let his hand rest on Oliver's knee. "You passed potions, didn't you?"
"With your help." Oliver murmured. "And anyway, its not like we know for certain. results aren't out for ages yet."
"Well. I'll help you again. If that's what you want." His thumb was gently stroking Oliver's knee, feeling the soft skin beneath the tracksuit bottoms. Oliver always slung on comfy clothes after Quidditch practice, whilst Percy always felt self conscious in anything so casual, and was guardedly envious of the other boy's insouciance.
"Sometimes. do you know what I wish?" Oliver's hand pressed lightly against the other boy's.
Percy shook his head wordlessly, concentrating on Oliver's tender touch.
"Sometimes I wish that I was clever enough to do things on my own. That I wasn't some kind of loser who had to rely on his." Oliver struggled with the terminology, "best friend to get him through his exams."
"Sometimes I wish," Percy broke in, "that I was good enough to fly on my broomstick and not fall off. But I'm not. I fall off every time I get on the bloody thing." He let his eyes meet Percy's, and for a second, he was lost. "We all have our crosses to bear." Oliver tried to interrupt, but Percy held up his hand for silence, in his best head boy manner, "But it isn't the same for you, Olly. You can pass these exams - with or without my help." He smiled, gently, and took Oliver's hands in his. He felt their weight, the calluses from too many hours on a broom, the slight tremor as Oliver struggled to keep a hold on his emotions, "You just need my reassurance, because you don't think highly enough of yourself."
"Shut up." Oliver mumbled, trying to pull away.
Percy had an amazingly strong grip when he tried. ".Because you don't think you're worth it," He repeated, "You don't think you're clever enough to pass these damn exams. You bloody are. You can pass them. And. do you know what?" he let go of Oliver's hands, and moved a little closer to the other boy. With a gentle, trembling hand, he cupped Oliver's cheek, his thumb grazing the weather-beaten skin. He had the lightest grazing of stubble, and Percy fought the urge to just keep on stroking. "You know what?" he continued, "What the fuck does it matter anyway? Because I know just what sort of a person you are." The skin quavered beneath his touch; the other boy's eyes filling with tears. "You're the sort of person I respect, the sort of person I wish I could be. You're strong, you're kind, you're good looking, you're clever, you look fantastic on a broom,,," Percy took a deep breath, confused as to who was trembling most, "and I'd still love you, regardless of how you do."
"What did you just say?" Oliver grabbed Percy's wrist, stilling his touch
Percy reddened, and looked away. "I said. I love you." His voice was low, no more than a murmur.
"Oh. That's what I thought you said."
"I'm sorry." Percy pulled away, and stood up, his legs shaking. "I shouldn't have said anything."
Oliver didn't say anything, a tear escaping and sliding down his face. He watched as Percy stumbled away, his face pale and white beneath the freckles. He watched as Percy lent over the table, heard him taking deep breaths. He watched, stony faced, as Percy made his faltering way to the door. All the time unable to say a bloody word in case he cried all over the place and ruined his hard man reputation.
"I'm sorry," Percy mumbled once again, faltering as he got to the door.
"Perce." Oliver croaked, his voice finally springing into action, "Percy."
The hand on the door-knob stilled. A pale, freckled face turned to face him, hope etched across it. "What?"
"Why don't you get your arse over here, and finish what you started, head- boy." He met Percy's eyes; hope springing a-plenty. The quaver in his voice belied his inner nervousness, and for the long pause that succeeded, Oliver wondered if he hadn't just buggered everything up.
That muscle was going in Percy's cheek. The one Oliver loved. The one Oliver did everything he could to bring into action whenever possible. This time though, Oliver could have done without the added pressure.
"You're the quidditch player in this room." Percy murmured, biting his lip in anticipation, "You can mark me for a change."
Oliver didn't need telling twice.
"I love you." Percy whispered again, growing bolder by the second. Oliver stood opposite him, fists clenching and unclenching in nervousness.
With a halting, shaking hand, Oliver cupped Percy's cheek, his thumb grazing freckle after freckle. His eyes were wide in wonderment as Percy nuzzled his cheek. "Do you know what, head boy?" he murmured, his hand skimming Percy's ear and neck. He took a step closer, and could feel Percy's breath on his cheek.
"What." Percy's voice shook as he felt Oliver's touch on his neck, slowly inching him closer.
Oliver's arm slid around Percy's waist, pulling him close. For a second, he stared into Percy's eyes, amazed at what he read there. "I love you," Oliver breathed, his lips grazing the other boy's, tantalising. "I love you." He pressed his lips against Percy's, dry skin against dry skin. His tongue coerced an entrance into Percy's willing mouth, and he felt Percy's arms encircle him, the other boy's hands touching, stroking. his back, his neck, his hair. Oliver couldn't help but smile against the other boy; he'd always known it would be like this.
They didn't let go of each other, even as they moved across the room and onto the sofa. "You do realise, don't you," Oliver murmured, as his hands slipped under Percy's shirt, his hands stroking the soft skin, smiling as he kissed the other boy's neck, "that I'm only doing this because I need to get a good mark in my exam tomorrow."
Percy raised his head from where he was nuzzling his room mate's ear, "I know." he murmured, grinning, "Just like I'm only doing this because I've always wanted to be in with the popular guys."
Oliver pressed his lips to Percy's, "and it's absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I'm completely in love with you."
"No," Percy shook his head, his hands finding the ripple of muscles under Oliver's shirt, wetting his lips slightly before ducking his head to meet the other boy's, ".absolutely nothing to do with that."
"I love you."
"I know."
* Percy snuggled down so that his head was resting on Oliver's shoulder, Oliver kissing the top of his head. His hands slipped under the other boy's t-shirt, slowly stroking the warm, muscular chest.
"When was the last time you shaved?" Oliver asked ruefully, massaging his chin.
Percy raised an eyebrow, hiding a grin, "Was I just too much man for you?"
Oliver spluttered, "You'll never be too much man for me, head boy." He was pleased to see a blush spreading down the other boy's neck, and before he could help himself, he was peering down Percy's top, his curiosity having got the better of him. "Just seeing how far the blush spread, love." He explained, dropping a kiss on Percy's shoulder.
"Bugger off, you."
"Gladly." Oliver shrugged, his lips touching Percy's. "After all, there is revision to be done, which is the only reason I'm kissing you now."
"And after the exams are finished?" Percy breathed, his fingers in Oliver's hair.
"I'm going to have to help you learn to fly. Its going to take long hours of arduous practice."
"Long hours?"
Oliver bit gently on Percy's lower lip, "Long, long hours," he repeated, hearing the boy groan beneath him.
"I'm sure I can cope," Percy mumbled, his lips meeting Oliver's, his fingers grazing and skimming the other boy's skin.
For a second, there was silence. Percy was slowly stroking Oliver's face, staring into his eyes, a small smile playing on his face. "Joking aside," he murmured, pressing his lips to Oliver's forehead, "I do love you, you know."
"I know. Me too."
* Outside their window, the sun was setting, the sky a tumultuous haze of reds and pinks. Shepherds delight.