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Fantasies Come True	By : percyplusoliver Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Percy/Oliver Views: 1969 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Fantasies Come True
- 1
Tonight Percy had prefect duty. He didn‘t usually mind it, but he wanted to start a Transfiguation essay that was due in a week. He planned to do a quick walkthrough of the corridors outside of Gryffindor Tower, check the areas by the Great Hall and the Charms corridor, and then head back to Gryffindor. Tuesday nights weren’t very popular for rule-breaking anyway.
Percy tidied his school things in the dormitory, looking over at his roommate’s area as he did so. It was an absolute disaster. Oliver Wood was the polar opposite of Percy, both in personality and in behaviour. Where Percy was studious, Oliver was lazy. Where Oliver was gregarious, Percy was...well, not exactly anti-social, but certainly not well-liked. The only thing the two of them had in common was fanatical devotion: Oliver to Quidditch and Percy to rules. It didn’t exactly make them friends, but they weren’t at odds. They were pleasant with each other.
Leaving the dormitory and then the common room, Percy walked up and down the corridors outside Gryffindor Tower, checking for students out of bed. He heard quiet mumbling coming from around a corner, and he decided to investigate it. It is my job, he thought, after all.
Rounding the corner, he saw two people entwined in an embrace. He didn’t recognise the girl, and couldn’t see the boy’s face, but it didn’t matter – both of them were in trouble. Percy coughed discreetly, causing the couple to break apart and look his way.
It was Oliver Wood. He at least had the decency to look halfway embarrassed, but he grinned at Percy in such a way that made Percy feel something that he had forcibly kept down for the last six years.
“Keep this between us, Perce?” Oliver asked, his cheeks slightly pink. The mystery girl didn’t say anything; instead, she was hiding behind Oliver, her face flaming red.
“Of course not!” Percy said indignantly. “You’ve broken the rules! I shall be reporting this to Professor McGonagall at once! And you, who is your head of house?”
The girl peeked out from behind Oliver’s broad shoulders. “P—P-Professor Flitwick,” she stammered.
“He will be hearing about this immediately! Now, both of you, back to your dormitories!” Percy waited until the two split up and went their separate ways, ensuring that Oliver and the girl both went to their correct common rooms. Before he went to Professor McGonagall’s office, however, he had to make sure nothing was standing at attention that might embarrass him in front of his head of house. That took longer than Percy hoped.
“Merlin be damned,” Percy muttered as he hurried to McGonagall’s office. He hated that Oliver Wood made him feel this way. He hated that Oliver Wood was so cavalier about everything that Percy held dear. He hated most of all that he didn’t hate Oliver. Quite the contrary. He found his roommate bewitching. His strong Scottish brogue, his muscular body, the way he smelled after Quidditch practise…it was utterly intoxicating.
Before he could wish his erection away, he had arrived at Professor McGonagall’s office. Just ten minutes, he thought breathlessly, and I’ll be back in the dormitory. The dormitory. Oh no. He couldn’t go back to the dormitory in this state. Not if Oliver might be there. Be strong, he told himself. You can do this.
He rapped on Professor McGonagall’s door and, when she answered, he quickly informed her of Oliver’s misdeeds. She thanked him for the information and told him to get back to his dormitory, as it was nearly 10pm. He bade her goodnight and was on his way.
All Percy could think about on his way back to Gryffindor Tower was catching Oliver locked in what looked like a passionate kiss with that mystery Ravenclaw girl. The more he thought about it, the more he replaced the girl with himself, imagining kissing Oliver, wrapping his arms around his classmate’s sculpted torso… and then he arrived back at the common room. It was deserted – except for Oliver, who wore a stony expression.
“Couldn’t’ve kept a secret, could you?” Oliver said sharply. “No, you had to go following the rules.”
“And you were breaking them!” Percy shot back hotly. “Maybe you should think before you act! I know thinking is hard for you, what with all of the Bludgers to the head you’ve taken!”
Oliver looked pained, if just for a second. “Friends keep each others’ secrets, even if they’re against the rules, Percy. Maybe that’s hard for you to understand, since you don’t have many friends, but I thought we were friends. I guess I was wrong.” With that, Oliver stood up and went up the stairs to their dormitory, leaving Percy standing in the middle of the common room, his mouth agape. Percy had a lot to parse that night in his bed, once he got up there – after Oliver had settled. He didn’t want to start another argument. While he waited, he picked at a hangnail on his left pinky nail. It started to bleed, but he didn’t notice. He could only think about Oliver saying he thought they were friends. Percy had no friends. He didn’t need friends...did he?
Ten minutes passed. Percy’s pinky nail was ripped to shreds. He decided to follow Oliver up the stairs, but quietly – hopefully his roommate was asleep.
He had no such luck. Oliver was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading his Quidditch Through the Ages book for what had to be the millionth time. When Percy entered the room, he thought he saw Oliver’s eyes flicker towards him, but he wasn’t sure. Percy sighed. How was he going to get himself out of this mess?
“Listen, Oliver,” Percy started. “I...I’m sorry.” That was a start. “I shouldn’t have gone to McGonagall straight away.” Lie. “How can I make it up to you?”
Oliver didn’t speak for a moment. A moment turned into two, and then five. Percy assumed that Oliver wouldn’t answer him, so he started to leave the room to prepare for bed.
“Wait,” he heard behind him. Percy turned around and looked at Oliver. He had closed his book and swung his legs around to the edge of his bed. “I know how you can make it up to me.”
Oh Merlin, Percy groaned internally. He’ll want me to write his Transfiguration essay. How many times have I told him I won’t do his homework? Now I have to tell him again. “I won’t write your Transfi-” He was cut off when Oliver pressed his lips to Percy’s. A small squeak escaped Percy’s lips. He was surprised – no, shocked – that Oliver would do this. Percy had just caught him with a girl, after all.
A minute later, Oliver pulled away. “But...but...” Percy protested half-heartedly. “You were just...I just saw you with...you...a girl...why...what?” It seemed words were not his strong suit at the moment. Hopefully he had gotten his point across, because it was unlikely that his ability to speak would return to him anytime soon.
Oliver smiled. “Percy,” he said matter-of-factly, “I hear you at night. I see you watching me change. I know you sit in the stands at every Quidditch practise – I see you every time.”
And here Percy thought he had been so subtle. His face flushed a deep scarlet and he looked down at the floor, his shoes suddenly very interesting.
“As for the girl,” Oliver continued, “she’s just interested in me because I’m a Quidditch captain. I think she likes authority.” He smiled again. “But you, Percy...you’re an enigma. We’ve lived together for six years now and I barely know anything about you, except that you seem to be fascinated by me.” He paused, lifting Percy’s chin so he could look his roommate in the eye. “What I want you to do for me – how you can make it up to me—is tell me what you think about me. Everything.”
Percy gulped. Everything? Even...no, not that. “Does it...does it have to be today?” he choked out, embarrassed.
“Tomorrow, then,” Oliver said.
Percy breathed a sigh of relief. His death by humiliation had been put off by 24 hours.
“But Percy,” Oliver continued, “don’t forget your silencing charm tonight.”
Percy could have melted into the floor, he was so mortified.
***
The next day, Percy was distracted. He didn’t eat. He knocked his tea over at breakfast, and attempted to spread orange juice on his toast instead of marmalade. He might as well just die, he thought, if he was going to tell Oliver everything he thought about him. The Astronomy Tower would be a good place to jump from.
“Percy! Our favourite older brother!”
Percy almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his name.
“Well, not favourite, but older.”
“Orange juice on toast, eh, Perce? New flavour? Maybe we should try it too.”
Percy composed himself and rolled his eyes at his twin younger brothers. “Grow up,” he said, annoyed. He stood up and shoved his bench away from the table, hurrying out of the Great Hall. He needed to collect his books before lessons. And my mind, he thought. I can’t be this distracted all day.
But he was. Instead of focusing on Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic, Percy focused on Oliver. How was he going to tell his roommate everything? Everything-everything? Could he try to leave something – or multiple somethings – out?
Percy skipped lunch and instead spent the hour in the library trying to figure out how he was going to talk to Oliver. So far he had successfully avoided him by getting up early and leaving the tower immediately after dressing. If he could avoid Oliver until the evening, maybe he could plan his attack, so to speak. But that’s not fair, he thought. I offered to make it up to Oliver, and I should follow through with my offer. Even if it’s so humiliating I die.
By evening, Percy was starving – skipping lunch had not been a good idea. He had to go into the Great Hall for dinner, and when he entered, Oliver was sitting right next to where he usually sat. His breath caught in his chest. The only other empty seats were with first-years, and Percy wouldn’t sit with first-years – it would call attention to the fact that he was avoiding Oliver.
Percy sat down in his usual spot and addressed Oliver stiffly. “Hello Oliver.”
“Percy!” Oliver said jovially, clapping his roommate on the shoulder. “Where have you been all day, mate? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been avoiding me!”
Percy felt his ears starting to burn and knew his face wasn’t far behind. “I have been quite busy,” he said coldly, trying to sound calm. “I must eat quickly; I have a Transfiguration essay to start.”
“Good!” Oliver said with a smile. “Maybe you can help me with mine!”
Percy rolled his eyes and filled his plate. He did eat quickly, and when he was finished, he didn’t hang around and wait for Oliver. He went straight back to Gryffindor Tower and settled in their dormitory, sitting cross-legged on his bed and reading An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration in preparation for writing his essay. He couldn’t focus on the book, though, knowing he would have to spill his deepest, darkest secrets to Oliver any minute. He read the same two sentences over and over, not absorbing them, until the door to their dormitory opened and Oliver walked in.
“So you were telling the truth about your Transfiguration essay,” Oliver said, plopping down on Percy’s bed.
“Of course I was,” Percy said somewhat irritably. “Why would I lie about that?”
“You’ve been avoiding me all day,” Oliver replied, pushing Percy’s book away. “I figured you wanted some time to, uh, prepare.” He smiled a lopsided smile. Gods, he was attractive. Percy’s heart started beating a little bit faster just from that smile.
“Well,” Percy started nervously, “I’m still not really ready. But I promised, and I keep my promises.”
In lieu of a response, Oliver leaned in and kissed Percy. “How about for every secret you tell me, I give you one of those?” he asked. “Will that make it easier?”
Merlin, no, Percy thought. That would make it – and something else – much harder. But he agreed anyway.
“Where should I start?” Percy asked, his voice shaking a bit.
“How about the beginning?”
All the way back in first year? Percy didn’t know if he could go through six years of … information? … in one night. “It might take longer than just tonight, then,” he mumbled, terrified both of Oliver’s response and what might come out of his mouth.
“I’ll look forward to it, then,” Oliver said gamely.
How could he be so relaxed? Percy was wound up tighter than a drum. His heart was beating a million times a minute; he could barely breathe; and he felt like he was so warm, he might catch fire at any second. He tried to take a deep breath. He failed.
“Relax, Perce,” Oliver said. “I won’t bite.”
What if I want you to? Percy thought immediately, and blushed furiously. “Well...okay,” he began nervously. “I guess...in first year...I was just jealous of you. You found it so easy to make friends, and I struggled. You were – still are – so outgoing, and I’m not. I used to study your interactions with people and practise them in hopes that I could become more socially adept. Needless to say, it didn’t work.” Percy looked down at the floor, expecting laughter. When it didn’t come, he glanced sideways at Oliver. “You...you don’t think that’s stupid?” he stammered, embarrassed.
“I said I would listen, and I am,” Oliver said, his tone even. “And for every bit of information, I promised you something, didn’t I?” Percy nodded mutely. “So I’ll keep up my end of the bargain, too.” He leaned over and kissed Percy three times. Something stirred in Percy’s nether regions, and he wanted to stop talking straight away. Could he finish this without making a fool of himself? He wasn’t sure.
“Second year...you were on the house Quidditch team.” Oliver nodded. “I went to all of the matches just to see you. That...that’s still true,” he admitted, his face turning almost maroon, he was so flustered. “Most afternoons I sit in the stands at your practises and watch you.” Percy’s voice caught in his throat. This was humiliating. Was it really worth the reward? “The next year...third year...was when I started, uh...you know.” He didn’t want to say it. Couldn’t say it.
“I don’t know,” Oliver said. “But what I do know is that I owe you.” He kissed Percy twice, the kisses lasting slightly longer this time.
Oh, this was going to be difficult. “You...you know,” Percy stuttered. “You said you knew.”
“I can’t know unless you tell me,” Oliver said with a smirk. So this was how it was going to be. He was going to make Percy say it.
“I started...” he stopped, trying to figure out how he was going to say this. Wanking? Touching himself? Beating off? Masturbating? “Do I really have to say it?” Percy said, ashamed.
“If you say it,” Oliver replied, “maybe next time I can help you with it.”
That was not the response Percy had expected. Slightly emboldened – and even more aroused – Percy opened his mouth to speak, but not two seconds later, it was covered by Oliver’s chapped lips. “Tell me,” Oliver said after he broke the kiss.
“You know,” Percy whispered.
“But I want to hear it from you.”
Now Percy was fully erect, his penis straining to be free of his trousers. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but he couldn’t let it show. He had to keep his composure. He took in a deep breath and said quickly, “Iwankedofftothoughtsofyou.” Again, the floor was incredibly interesting. He stared at the grain of the wood, analysing the pattern as he waited for a response from Oliver.
“And what was I doing in these thoughts?” Oliver asked in a sultry tone.
“Please don’t make me say it,” Percy begged. He just couldn’t tell Oliver about all of his fantasies. Some of them were much too humiliating. Besides, he thought, we would be here for months if he really wanted to hear about all of them.
Oliver seemed to pause for a moment to think. “All right,” he said. “But tell me one. The one you have the most often.”
Percy thought he would die, he was so embarrassed. He wished he had never caught Oliver and the Ravenclaw girl; that he had never turned them in; that he had never even seen Oliver in his entire life.
“Not...not today,” Percy said. “I can’t.” I’ll explode in my trousers, he added silently. “But,” he continued, “I promise I’ll tell you. Just not today.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. Merlin, he was sexy. “If you promise,” he said doubtfully.
Percy felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had been granted a continuance – he could build up his confidence and perhaps practise how he would tell Oliver his fantasy. Maybe, if he was lucky, Oliver would participate in his fantasy with him.
“Shall I continue?” he asked nervously. Oliver nodded.
“Well...” he said, “fourth year was a lot like the previous year, except...” Except what? he asked himself. Except I started gawking at you in the showers? Except I stared at you when you were changing? “...except I couldn’t help but stare at you. Every chance I got.” If it was possible, Percy blushed even more deeply. He had never wanted to share these fantasies with anyone, and now here he was, sharing them with the object of his fantasies.
“I noticed,” Oliver said with a grin. “I liked the attention.” He paused. “I still do, especially from you.”
What? What was that? Percy couldn’t believe his ears. Oliver liked it when Percy ogled him (albeit as subtly as he could)? Percy looked over at his roommate. “Are you...are you serious?” he asked.
“Why would I lie?”
To spare his feelings? Percy wasn’t sure. “I...I don’t know,” he admitted.
“You know, Percy,” Oliver started, “you can be incredibly sexy when you think no one is looking.”
That wasn’t true, Percy thought. He was awkward. He was gawky, skinny, oddly-proportioned. He didn’t have the confidence or muscles that Oliver had. He wasn’t socially adept or funny. He was just...Percy.
“You’ve been so honest,” Oliver continued, his voice dripping with unbridled desire. “I admire that. Let me repay your honesty.”
This was honestly not the way Percy had thought the night would go. He had expected Oliver to laugh at him, to reject him, and then to tell their classmates everything he had said. Instead, it seemed that his fantasies were coming true. Before he could speak, however, Oliver’s mouth was on his and he felt a hand on his erection. A muffled moan escaped his lips.
“You like that?” Oliver asked after he pulled away. “Maybe I can fulfill one of your fantasies tonight.” If only I were brave enough to tell him, Percy thought. “Would you like that?”
Percy gulped. He didn’t know if he could answer. He was still in shock, both that he had confessed his feelings for Oliver and that Oliver seemed to reciprocate. “Y-y-yes,” he stuttered. “Very much.”
“Good,” Oliver said in a husky voice. “Let’s get you out of those trousers, then.” Percy didn’t object as Oliver unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Before he went any further, though, Oliver kissed Percy feverishly, like it was the last thing he would do before he died. Percy leaned into the kiss, enjoying the taste and feel of Oliver’s lips. Although they were wind-chapped from so many Quidditch practises, they were still the best thing Percy had felt against his mouth. He never wanted the kisses to end. He pulled Oliver close, not wanting to let him go. This was what he desired, what he dreamed about, what he fantasised about when he wanked off shamefully at night.
“Hold up,” Oliver said suddenly. “We don’t want this to be over too soon, do we?” That was the last thing Percy wanted. He wanted it to last forever; to etch this night into his memory. Oliver pushed Percy backwards gently onto his bed so he was lying down, and Oliver laid down beside him. “There,” Oliver said. “That’s better.” He kissed Percy again while sliding his roommate’s trousers down over his hips. Percy’s breath caught in his throat. This was really happening. It wasn’t some dream; another one of his fantasies; no, it was real. Oliver was really removing his trousers, really kissing him.
“Oliver,” Percy said breathlessly.
“Yeah Perce?” Oliver replied in a low voice.
“This is...this is one of my fantasies,” he admitted, the blush rising in his cheeks again.
“Good,” Oliver said. “At least one of your fantasies will be fulfilled tonight.” He grinned cheekily.
How could Percy not explode in his Y-fronts right then? That grin, that careless attitude...and to top it all off, Oliver was touching and kissing him! Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts, he ordered himself. He didn’t want this to be over too soon. Potions. Divination. Mandrakes. His train of unsexy thoughts was interrupted when he felt Oliver’s hand on his groin. He gasped.
“What do I do now?” Oliver asked. “In these fantasies of yours?”
Oh Merlin. He was going to have to explain. “Er...” he stammered. You wank me off like a professional? he thought. You make me come over and over until I pass out? But he couldn’t say it. He just made a wanking motion and nodded.
“If you want it,” Oliver said suggestively, “you’re going to have to say it.”
“Please,” Percy pleaded, “don’t make me.” He looked away, mortified.
“Percy,” Oliver said with a hint of irritation in his voice. “I have my hand on your cock. There is no reason for you to be so embarrassed. If I didn’t want to do this – or hear what you wanted me to do – I wouldn’t ask.”
He was right, of course, Percy thought. But it was still incredibly hard to tell him. “You...you, er, wankedmeoff,” Percy said quickly, still looking away from Oliver. And it was mind-blowing, he thought. It always was.
“See?” Oliver asked. “That wasn’t that...hard.” He paused for emphasis. “But I see that something else is.” He began to lazily stroke Percy’s erection through his pants.
Percy let out a low moan. Gods, that was better than anything he could have expected. “More,” Percy gasped. “Please.”
Oliver kissed Percy roughly, their tongues meeting in Percy’s mouth. Chills ran down Percy’s spine. This was, by far, the best day of Percy’s life, and he never wanted it to end. He felt Oliver tugging at his pants, and he lifted his slender hips to allow his roommate access. Was this really happening? Was Oliver really going to wank him off like he’d always fantasised about? It seemed like it.
“Merlin, Percy!” Oliver exclaimed. Percy blushed. Again. “That’s like a third leg!” Percy didn’t think so, but it was nice to hear it. Especially from the object of his fantasies. Oliver’s calloused hand wrapped around Percy’s erection and began to gently stroke his hard cock. Percy moaned, louder this time. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Don’t stop,” Percy groaned. He pushed his hips toward Oliver’s hand, silently begging for more. He wanted this – no, he needed this. He had needed it for years. But he knew he wasn’t going to last very long. He just couldn’t, not with his fantasy coming true in front of him. “That’s...that’s...” He couldn’t speak. Words just wouldn’t come to him.
Oliver put a finger to Percy’s lips. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Just enjoy it.” He kissed Percy again, this time gently, the tip of his tongue barely touching Percy’s lips. Oliver’s strokes began to speed up, and Percy moaned again. “Yes,” Oliver murmured. “Just like that...”
Percy knew he was going to lose control very soon, and he wanted to be kissing Oliver when he exploded, just like in his fantasies. He pulled his roommate close to him, needing to taste his lips, feel his tongue. Percy kissed Oliver passionately, needing him closer and closer; five centimeters away was too far. He felt his orgasm building and he tried to warn Oliver with a groan, but Oliver didn’t stop; instead, he sped up.
“I...I...” Percy stammered before Oliver captured his mouth in an intense kiss.
“What did I tell you?” Oliver said a moment later. “Don’t talk – just enjoy.”
“Kiss me again,” Percy said breathlessly. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to talk, and his fantasy would come true.
Oliver obliged. His mouth tasted sweet, like a mixture of vanilla custard and raspberries. Percy could kiss Oliver all day every day and never grow tired of it. Maybe I’ll get to now, he thought briefly before Oliver’s tongue entered his mouth again.
Suddenly, without warning, waves of pleasure rushed over Percy and he was lost in the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced. He came for what seemed like ages, messing his shirt, Oliver’s shirt, and his duvet.
Percy rolled over on his bed, out of breath and exhausted. That was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He suddenly felt very aware that he was covered in ejaculate and was naked from the waist down, and his deep blush returned.
Oliver pulled Percy back to him, holding him close. “Not letting you get away that easily, Perce,” he said with a smile. “I just caught you. I’m not letting you go now.” He kissed Percy’s forehead and brushed a lock of sweaty ginger hair away.
“So,” Oliver said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “was that as good as your fantasy?”
- 1
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Fantasies Come True