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The Weight of Living	By : percyplusoliver Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Percy/Oliver Views: 4738 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This can also be found at AO3. I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters. I am not making any money from this story. I just do this for kicks :) Note: This begins around HBP-era

Chapter List
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Oliver sat up for several hours, unable to sleep. He was grateful to Percy for rescuing him, of course, but he was also confused. Why was Percy being so standoffish?
It’s probably my fault, Oliver thought sadly. He’s probably still hurt from what I said to him, and rightfully so. I was awful to him. Oliver tried to sleep, but tossed and turned in his rigid, unyielding camp bed until the wee hours of the morning.
Percy laid awake until well past midnight. He reflected on the past several weeks and what he had done. He had almost immediately given in when the Minister had given him a choice. He was ashamed of himself. He wanted to talk to Oliver; he wanted to be able to talk to Oliver, but he didn’t feel like he could. Oliver did what he did to save me, Percy thought, and I did what I did to save myself. That made him feel even more wretched and selfish. He had spent the last few weeks giving information to the Death-Eater-run Ministry just to save his own skin, not thinking about how anyone else might be affected by what he was doing. He hated himself, even more so than usual.
I don’t deserve Oliver, he thought. He deserves someone stronger; someone better. Percy sighed. He would tell Oliver in the morning.
***
Oliver woke after fitful sleep. He was exhausted, and looked it. He yawned as he sat up and looked over at Percy, who was still sleeping.
“Perce,” Oliver said loudly, trying to wake him up. “Hey Perce!”
“Mmmph,” grunted Percy.
“Wake up!”
“Don’t wanna. Too tired.”
“Do it anyway.”
Percy opened his eyes and looked over at Oliver. He looks terrible, Percy thought. I’m sure I don’t look much better, though. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “What was so important that you had to wake me up?”
“I’m hungry,” Oliver said. “And you know I can’t cook.” He smiled sheepishly.
Percy rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, a bit annoyed. “I’ll make breakfast, but we have to talk.”
“After?” Oliver said. “Eat first, talk after?”
Percy rolled his eyes again, this time with an irritated sigh. Oliver knew how to get what he wanted as well as how to get on Percy’s nerves. “Fine,” Percy said shortly, getting out of bed and choosing another can of chili. Not exactly a proper breakfast, but they didn’t have many options. He heated it quickly and split it into two bowls, handing one to Oliver, who started eating immediately.
“Thanks, Perce,” Oliver said through a large mouthful of chili. He smiled at Percy, who didn’t return the smile. Instead, Percy looked away. Oliver was hurt. He just wanted to mend things with Percy, who didn’t seem interested. He knew he had said horrible things, but he hadn’t meant them. They were meant to save Percy, not to hurt him. He ate his breakfast quickly and set his bowl on the bed beside him, waiting for Percy to finish.
Percy didn’t want to have this conversation with Oliver, but it was necessary. He had to break things off, not only for his sake, but for Oliver’s. Oliver would be better off without him. Better off with someone who hadn’t told secrets to the Minister; better off with someone more his type; better off with someone who could protect him. It broke Percy’s heart to tell him that, but he had to. It was unavoidable, he thought. Everything had to come to an end someday, and this was that end. He set his bowl on the ground next to his feet and clasped his hands on his lap.
“So,” he began nervously. “So.”
“So,” Oliver repeated. “So you wanted to talk. Talk, then.”
“So. I’ve been thinking,” Percy said, purposely avoiding Oliver’s gaze, “and I think we should go our separate ways.” He paused for only half a second before continuing, “It’s the best thing for both of us. I’m no good for you; you deserve someone better than me. You deserve someone stronger, someone more like you.” He took in a deep breath and cast his eyes upwards, waiting for Oliver’s objection. When it didn’t come, he cocked his head to the side, confused.
“Percy,” Oliver said quietly, reaching across to grab the redhead’s hands, “you don’t get to decide what I deserve. What I want is what I deserve. And what I want is you.” He gave Percy a half-smile and squeezed his hands. “I love you, Perce, and you’re all I want. If you left me again, I don’t know what I would do. I need you.”
Percy gave Oliver a dubious look.
“Really,” Oliver continued. “I don’t care what you did or what you said. You did what you did to save yourself.” He paused. “And I said what I said to save you. Don’t you understand, Perce? I would do anything for you. Including going to Azkaban. I was ready to go, just to protect you. Because I love you.” Ready might have been too strong a word, he thought, but if it convinced Percy, it would have to do.
Percy wasn’t sure if he believed Oliver. He wouldn’t forgive himself; in fact, he wasn’t sure if he could. He had betrayed Oliver. He didn’t deserve Oliver. He didn’t deserve Oliver’s forgiveness. He felt unwanted tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He brushed them away with the back of his hand and looked down. He felt torn. Should he accept Oliver’s forgiveness, or should he continue with his original plan of splitting up? He needed a minute. He stood and left the tent.
“What should I do?” he asked himself, pacing in front of the door. “What do I want to do?” He knew what he wanted – to stay with Oliver until the end of time – but he had to consider Oliver’s safety. Oliver was still a wanted criminal. Being with Percy, who was now probably also being hunted, would only make Oliver’s life more dangerous. But, he reasoned, he couldn’t make Oliver do anything. He couldn’t make Oliver leave if Oliver didn’t want to. And Percy certainly didn’t want to leave. He would follow Oliver to the ends of the earth if he had to. I guess that’s decided, then, he thought.
Percy re-entered the tent to find that Oliver had done the washing-up and was sitting cross-legged on Percy’s bed. Percy rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “I just can’t get rid of you, can I?” he said with a small smile, sitting down beside the other man.
“Nope,” said Oliver cheerily. “I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned over and kissed Percy’s cheek. Percy blushed. “Listen,” Oliver continued, a more serious note to his voice, “you’ve shown me you care. What you’ve said doesn’t matter. Your actions do. You’ve saved my life three times now. That matters more to me than any stupid shit you might have said.”
Percy felt his face getting hot. Oliver was right, he knew. But he had only done what anyone would have done. Anyone would have saved the person they loved. I love him, Percy thought suddenly. I can’t leave him; I love him. He scooted closer to Oliver and rested his head on Oliver’s shoulder. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I can’t tell you what to do. I know you won’t listen.” He smiled. “But please listen to me. I will never forgive myself for betraying you to the Minister. Even though it was just an attempt to keep myself safe, I never should have done it. I never should have agreed to it.”
“Shut your ridiculous mouth,” Oliver said. “If you hadn’t, you’d be dead. I’d be mourning my love from a cell in Azkaban instead of sitting with him in a tent in Wales.” He ran his fingers through Percy’s wavy hair. He had forgotten how soft Percy’s hair was, and how good it smelt. “And that’s the last thing I want to do.” Ever, he added mentally.
Percy sighed. Why did Oliver always have to be right? It was infuriating.
“So I can stay?” Oliver asked hopefully. He already knew the answer; he just wanted to hear it from Percy.
“What do you think?” Percy asked, kissing Oliver’s neck.
Oliver shivered. “I think that’s a yes,” he said with a slight moan. He turned to face Percy and placed his hands on either side of his lover’s face. “Am I right?”
Percy didn’t answer; he just kissed Oliver passionately. That should be answer enough, he thought, losing himself in the kiss. He tangled his fingers in Oliver’s hair, bringing Oliver closer to him. “I want you,” Percy breathed. “I need you.”
“Take me, then,” Oliver replied throatily. “Take me however you want me.”
Percy pushed Oliver backwards so he was lying down on the bed and Percy was kneeling above him. Percy looked down at his lover, taking in every inch of his appearance. He really was beautiful, Percy thought. How could I have thought of letting him go? “You’re entirely too clothed for my liking,” he said with a sensual smile. “We have to fix that.” He tugged at the hem of Oliver’s t-shirt, trying to get it over his head. Oliver co-operated wordlessly, lifting his arms as Percy pulled off his shirt.
“Better,” Percy proclaimed, tracing Oliver’s shrunken abdominal muscles with his index finger, “but still too clothed.” He fiddled with the elastic on Oliver’s pyjamas and they slid easily over his narrow hips. Percy saw that Oliver’s erection was tenting in his Y-fronts and he smiled. “Almost perfect,” he said.
“No,” Oliver said breathlessly, “not quite.” He pulled at Percy’s jumper, indicating that he, too, should disrobe. Percy complied, tossing his jumper and pyjamas on the floor. Now all he had left were his pants, same as Oliver. “Better,” Oliver murmured into Percy’s neck, kissing him gently. His hands roamed over Percy’s thin frame, rediscovering every inch of his body. His hands purposely avoided Percy’s groin, wanting to tease him just a bit longer. He pressed his lips to Percy’s and pulled him close. Their tongues met, performing an intricate dance inside Percy’s mouth.
Percy couldn’t wait. His erection was straining at his pants, and he was certain that Oliver’s was, too. He reached down the front of Oliver’s pants and felt just how hard he was. He grinned as he took Oliver’s prick in his hand, stroking it roughly.
Oliver gasped. Fuck, he thought. It had been too long since he had wanked, and way too long since Percy had touched him like that. He pushed his hips upwards, needing, wanting, begging for more.
Percy tugged Oliver’s pants down, allowing himself easier access to Oliver’s dripping cock. He licked the bead of pre-come from the glistening head. “You taste so good,” Percy told Oliver in a husky voice, licking his lips lasciviously. Oliver shuddered. He loved this side of Percy; the uninhibited sexual monster; the side that was unafraid to ask for what he wanted.
Percy didn’t want to wait; he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to ask, and he definitely didn’t want to be given permission. He just wanted to take what was his. He plunged Oliver’s cock into his mouth, enjoying the velvety hardness between his lips and on his tongue. He tried to take as much as possible without gagging, but it had been long enough that he was out of practise. I’ll just have to train, then, Percy thought wickedly. I’m sure Oliver won’t mind.
Oliver most certainly didn’t mind. This was in his top five best feelings in the world. He moaned and arched his back, pressing his cock further into Percy’s mouth. “Mmmmm, Perce,” he groaned, “that feels amazing.” He tangled his fingers in Percy’s hair, pushing Percy’s head further down on his shaft. He wanted this. No, he needed it.
To Oliver’s great disappointment, Percy stopped sucking his cock a moment later. Oliver let out a whimper of displeasure.
“Don’t whinge,” Percy said with a smile. “I’m not finished.” He leaned down and kissed the head of Oliver’s erection, and then kissed Oliver passionately. He didn’t want this to end too soon. If it could last forever, Percy thought, that would be wonderful. He removed his own pants, tossed them on top of Oliver’s, and quickly spoke the preparation spell.
Oliver gasped. “Perce,” he moaned, “fuck me.” He reached down and started stroking his own cock, needing to feel, to experience sexual sensation immediately.
Percy batted his hand away. “Hands off,” he ordered. “Only I get to do that.”
“Then bloody do it,” Oliver begged, thrusting his hips toward Percy. “I can’t fucking wait any longer.”
Percy positioned himself at Oliver’s entrance and, at the same time, took firm hold of Oliver’s cock. As he entered Oliver, Percy began stroking Oliver lazily. Gods, this felt amazing. Percy let out an involuntary grunt as he pushed into Oliver again and again, still languidly wanking his lover. He both wanted to climax and not to; he wanted this both to end and to continue indefinitely. It wasn’t just the sex; it was the pure, innocent intimacy that they shared in these moments that made Percy’s heart swell with joy.
“Perce,” Oliver said with urgency, interrupting Percy’s train of thought, “I can’t...I’m...” And not a second later, his cock exploded with spurt after spurt of hot liquid, spraying Percy’s hand, face, and stomach. He came for what seemed like ages; it had been weeks, after all, and that was much too long.
“Merlin, Ollie,” Percy said with a grin. “Where did all that come from?” He pulled out, though he wasn’t finished, and cuddled up next to Oliver. It didn’t matter that he was covered in Oliver’s juices; it didn’t matter (at the moment) that he was still achingly hard; it didn’t matter that they were on the run from the Ministry. What mattered was that they were together, now and forever.
Oliver punched Percy lightly in the shoulder. “Haven’t exactly had a chance to wank, you know, and my boyfriend hasn’t really been around.” He kissed Percy, hard, on the lips. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Percy admitted.
“And I’ve missed this,” Oliver said, reaching down and grabbing hold of Percy’s cock, which was still exceedingly erect.
Percy sighed blissfully. The calluses, however faded, on Oliver’s hand felt incredible. “Don’t stop,” he breathed. “Ever.”
“I have to,” Oliver said almost apologetically, “if you want me to suck you off.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Percy suggestively. He didn’t think Percy would object to his proposition.
“Yesssss,” Percy sighed. “Yes, I do.” His cock was begging for release. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, especially with Oliver sucking him off.
“Well, lie down, then,” Oliver said, pushing Percy back onto the firm camp bed, “and we can continue.”
Percy obeyed, closing his eyes, feeling Oliver’s hot breath pass over the head of his prick, causing goosebumps to form at his groin. Momentarily he felt another, better sensation: Oliver’s lips enveloping his length and hands cupping his balls. He let out a long, low moan. Merlin, this was unbelievable. He had almost let this go; he had almost sent Oliver packing. I really am an arse, he thought.
Oliver took Percy in his mouth, relishing the exquisite firmness of his length. Oliver loved Percy’s cock; it stood so cutely at attention when he was aroused, almost defiant, daring Oliver to touch it and suck it. Oliver needed no encouragement.
Percy groaned loudly. He wasn’t going to last very long. “Ollie,” he moaned. “Ollie, I’m...”
Oliver nodded around Percy’s cock, signalling that he was ready. What he wasn’t ready for, however, was the sheer amount of ejaculate. He tried swallowing as much as he could, but he started to choke. He had to pull away from Percy in order to clear his throat.
“Sorry,” Percy gasped. “I...I...I didn’t...expect that.”
“Me neither,” said Oliver, expertly licking Percy’s shaft and cleaning off the remaining come. “But I’m not complaining.” He grinned. “I’ll never complain, as long as I’m with you.”
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The Weight of Living