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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Oliver awoke the next morning with an unfamiliar arm draped across his chest. The events of the previous night started coming back to him slowly, and then the arm on his chest made sense. Percy, right. Met at that shitty Muggle pub...stressed...hopefully he was more relaxed now.
Percy stirred next to him. “You awake?” Oliver asked.
“Mmm?”
“You awake?”
“Now I am,” Percy replied, “no thanks to you.” He smiled.
“Oops,” Oliver said. “Thought you were already awake.” He made an apologetic face.
“Don’t worry about it,” Percy said with a grin.
“You feeling more relaxed now?’ Oliver asked with a wink, pulling Percy close.
Percy allowed himself to be moved, and nestled up against Oliver’s muscular chest. This felt good. Right. The way things should be, he thought. “Much more,” he answered, “thanks to you – again.”
“Good. That was my intent,” said Oliver before falling silent. Where did he want this to lead? Did he want it to lead anywhere at all? Should it just be a one-night stand? Oliver dismissed that last question. It was much too good for that, he thought. I can’t let this go just yet.
Little did Oliver know, Percy was having similar thoughts. His nerves were attacking him. Why in the world would someone like Oliver be interested in him? Why had Oliver wanted to take him home in the first place? Was this all a cruel joke? That can’t be the case, he thought. We’re adults...adults don’t do that to each other. Regardless, Percy was anxious. What was going to come of this encounter? Should he ask?
“So...” they both began in unison.
“You first,” Percy said quickly.
“Okay,” Oliver said. “So. Are you hungry? There’s a decent cafe round the corner. I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook, and I don’t have any food in the house.” Again, he looked apologetic. It was adorable, Percy thought.
“I could eat,” Percy admitted.
“Your turn,” Oliver said. “What were you going to say?”
Percy was embarrassed now. He had thought that Oliver would have brought up the issue, since he was more forthright, but he hadn’t. And Percy didn’t want to. It didn’t seem to be on Oliver’s mind, and he didn’t want to dampen the mood. “Oh, it was nothing,” Percy lied badly. He had never been a good liar – that had always been Fred and George’s specialty.
Oliver raised an eyebrow but decided not to press the issue. Percy was skittish, and Oliver didn’t want to scare off the best fuck he had had in years, if not in his life.
“How about we clean up and go round to the cafe?” Oliver suggested. “They do a great fry-up.”
Percy nodded. “Sounds good. You take the first shower – you’re filthy!” He made a face for a second and then laughed.
“You didn’t seem to mind how filthy I was last night,” said Oliver suggestively. Did he really want to start this again? He had Quidditch practise at 12, and it was already 10.
“Not again,” Percy groaned. “I’m exhausted!” He feigned irritation, but internally he was jumping for joy. He wants me again! he thought. It wasn’t just a one-off! “Don’t you think with...” here he reached down to Oliver’s groin “...anything else?”
This elicited a sharp gasp. “Bloody hell, Percy,” Oliver said. “Don’t start something you’re not going to finish.”
“Later, then,” Percy promised, a gleam in his eye. Oliver liked that mischievous glint – it could only mean good things for him. It only had so far.
“Hurry along,” Percy urged. “I’m getting hungry.”
***
Their breakfast was relatively uneventful. Oliver had been right – the cafe did do a great fry-up. Percy felt awkward looking Oliver in the eyes, so instead he stared at his empty plate. The toast crumbs were fascinating.
“Out with it, Percy,” Oliver commanded. “What’s the problem?”
“Just...” Percy stuttered. “It’s just...” Just what? he asked himself. How are you going to tell him that you’re full of confidence when you’re fucking him, but you turn into a nervous wreck the moment you’re clothed? Or that last night was probably the best night of your life, and you never want to let him go without making him run far away?
“Just what?”
Percy drew in a deep breath, trying to relax. It didn’t work. His lungs constricted and he felt like he might pass out at any minute. This wasn’t going to work. “I can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He stood up, pushed his chair in, and hurried out of the cafe, leaving a perplexed Oliver to pay for their food.
***
Percy rounded the corner and, after making sure no one was around, Disapparated. He arrived at his flat seconds later, extremely disappointed in himself.
You’re an idiot, he thought bitterly. You probably ruined any chance you may have had to ever see him again. Well done indeed. In an attempt to take his mind off his sheer idiocy, Percy pulled a book off his shelf, but found he couldn’t concentrate. He decided instead to take a walk. Maybe that will help me clear my head, he thought.
***
After Percy had left the cafe, Oliver was extremely confused. What had he been about to say? It could have gone one of two ways, Oliver guessed. Either Percy was going to tell him he never wanted to see him again, or he would profess his undying love for Oliver. Oliver thought the first was unlikely, and rolled his eyes at the thought of the latter. He wasn’t really one for commitment – never had been – but as he mulled over the idea of seeing Percy again, he found that the thought of seconds didn’t repel him like it usually did.
Oliver finished his tea and checked the time. 11:30. Fuck! He paid for both breakfasts and left the cafe before Disapparating to Quidditch practise.
***
Practise was atrocious. First, Oliver was late getting onto the pitch, so he was shouted at by the captain. Since he was late, he missed part of warmups. When he finally settled in front of the goalposts, he was so distracted that he let in multiple extremely easy goals. That earned him extra shouting.
“Pull your head out of your arse, Wood!” he heard from across the pitch. Oliver’s cheeks reddened. His mind was definitely somewhere else, but not up his arse – it was on Percy and his arse. And what he didn’t – couldn’t? Wouldn’t? - say this morning, Oliver thought. I’ll have to … coerce him. He started formulating what he thought was a cunning plan.
***
When practise had ended, instead of hanging around and chatting to his teammates like he usually did, Oliver went straight home. He showered – alone, unfortunately, he thought – and properly tidied his bathroom, removing the empty bottles and dirty towels. There, he thought. Good enough for government. That made him laugh – technically, Percy was government, as he worked for the Ministry.
But how will I get him over here? Oliver thought suddenly. I can send him an owl...but who knows if he’ll come? If only I knew where he lived. Too bad Oliver hadn’t asked about Percy’s flat. Then he could have Apparated and surprised him. Oh well, Oliver thought, a bit disappointed. I guess I’ll just have to send him an owl.
He jotted a quick note to Percy, asking him to come over that night at 7:30. Oliver would be ready – the bathroom was tidy, and he might even attempt to cook. Maybe. Or maybe he would just get takeaway – no point in giving both of them food poisoning. Oliver sent the owl off and headed out to pick up some takeaway.
***
Percy returned from his walk, not feeling much better. If anything, he was more confused. When he reached his front door, there was an envelope addressed to him in an unfamiliar hand.
Mr Percy Weasley
London, England
Curious, he opened the envelope before he got through the front door.
Hi Percy,
The letter began.
You left very suddenly this morning. Come over around 7:30 and talk about it? -Oliver
PS: I even cleaned the bathroom
Well, Percy thought, that’s good. He hadn’t ruined his chance by being an absolute prat. He went into his flat and decided to take a shower before going back to Oliver’s. Might as well start the evening off clean, he thought with a smile. Don’t assume, he told himself. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
Maybe I should try to...practise what I wanted to say this morning, he thought. Maybe if I say it out loud once or twice, it will be easier to say it out loud to Oliver. Good idea, he thought, mentally patting himself on the back.
As he showered, Percy practised his speech, changing bits that he thought sounded stupid or needy. He continued practising while he toweled off and dressed, but by the time he had to leave his flat, he still wasn’t satisfied. Oh well...what he had would just have to do.
***
There was a tentative knock at the front door, and Oliver knew that it was Percy. He took his time getting to the door, making sure he looked good and his hair was carefully tousled. Let’s find out what he was thinking this morning. Oliver opened the door and saw a very nervous-looking Percy standing there.
“I won’t bite,” Oliver joked, “unless you want me to.” A deep blush crept up the other man’s cheeks. “Come in!” Oliver motioned for Percy to go past him, and he did. “Take a seat. Get comfortable. Really comfortable,” Oliver said with a wink. “I’ll be right there.”
Percy, still a deep red, walked into the living room and settled on the couch. This time he took off his shoes, but still sat stiffly. How could he make himself really comfortable when he had something so important to say? What’s taking him so long? Percy wondered irritably. He was going to lose the nerve it had taken him so long to work up.
Oliver was purposely – perhaps meanly – keeping Percy waiting. He was so sexy when he was anxious, Oliver thought. And maybe that will make him spit out what he couldn’t say this morning.
After what seemed like an eternity, Oliver sauntered into the living room and plopped down on a chair across from Percy. “So,” he said conversationally, “what dd you want to tell me?”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” asked Percy nervously.
“You want to see getting to the point?” Oliver teased. “We can get to another point later...after you tell me what you didn’t tell me this morning.”
So that was how it was going to be. Now Percy had to tell him.
“Uh...” Percy started. “Um, okay. Well...what I wanted...want to say is...” He took a huge breath, knowing that if he had to stop in the middle of his sentence to breathe, he probably wouldn’t be able to continue.
“What?”
“...uh...lastnghtwasthebestnightofmylifethankstoyouandineverwantedittoendiwanttoseeyoueverydaypleasedontbescaredanddontgoaway,” Percy said quickly, not looking at Oliver. His face felt like it was on fire. He could hardly breathe, and his heart was beating so fast, he thought it might burst out of his chest. That hadn’t come out the way he had practised it at all. He had sounded calm, relaxed, and measured when he had practised. He had just made an arse of himself. Oliver was sitting silently across from him, presumably in absolutely shock and horror over what Percy had just said. Percy was too afraid to look up at him to find out.
After what seemed like millennia, Oliver spoke. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Look at me.” He waited until Percy looked up. “Do you think I would have asked you here if I didn’t want to see you again?” Was that enough of a consolation? It didn’t look like it. Percy still looked miserable, so Oliver stood up and crossed the room to settle on the couch beside the other man.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m crap with stuff like this. I’ve never...” Never what? he thought. Never had someone over again? Never shared feelings with someone? “...never told anyone how I feel about them before.” But you’re different, he thought. “But...” But what? How could he verbalise this? “But I feel...similar...” He wouldn’t go so far as to say the same, even though he probably did feel exactly the same as Percy did. The previous night had been the best night of his life – by far – and he didn’t want Percy to leave him either.
Percy looked at Oliver. Did he really mean that? His face looked honest, even nervous. He looked almost as anxious as Percy felt.
“Really?” Percy asked.
“Really,” Oliver answered.
“Really really?” Percy asked, smiling.
“Really really,” Oliver replied, rolling his eyes a little. “Now let’s eat. I’m fucking starving.”
“I thought you couldn’t cook,” Percy teased.
“I can’t,” Oliver said. “Takeaway. I planned ahead. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting takeaway.”
“Oh,” Percy said with a raised eyebrow, “you’re good at much more than just getting takeaway.” With that, he kissed Oliver’s forehead and smiled. “So, where is this takeaway?”
- 8
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- 10
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The Weight of Living