Hey guys! So I'm actually NOT dead, I know, It's a shocker! XD

Anyways, this is just an idea that's been floating around in my head for a while and it was refusing to leave me alone so I decided to 'what the hell?' it and throw it up here. So, Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine

Percy was exhausted. After a long day tending to the seemingly endless list of problems and demands from his superiors and colleagues he was more than ready to drop. The Minister had randomly- without any warning- decided to take the day off, leaving the frantic redhead to rearrange his schedule for the entire week- month even- because nearly fifteen meetings and important conferences had been set and agreed upon for the day. And the rest of the week was equally as busy. He had had to make up quick, plausible excuses for the Minister's absence to the foreign dignitaries and representatives, while also working to complete the deadlines that he had to have completed for the day.

Then one of the obliviation departments was overwhelmed by an incident at some muggle concert or convention and Percy was the only one in the building qualified to manage the situation and file the massive pile of reports and formal apologies to the muggle government. Then one of the objects in the cursed and/or dark magical objects storage section was accidentally activated by one of the interns and- again- Percy was the only one with the qualifications to deal with the aftermath and reports. Almost all of the Department Heads were out of the country in meetings similar to the ones the Minister was supposed to be in so therefore Percy, as the Minister's direct assistant, was basically in charged of the entire bloody ministry for the day.

And- admittedly one of the absolute worse parts of the day- Percy had an unfortunate run-in with someone from his days at Hogwarts. Marcus Flint. The previous chaser had grown into a massive man, all towering height, bulging muscles, shaggy dark brown hair and clear, pale skin. And he hadn't come into the Ministry happy, of course not, apparently the universe had been determined to throw its worse at Percy because -of course- his one slip-up of the day just had to involve the man who had made his life hell in school. Then, after much more time than the smaller man could afford to spend on one incident, the brunette started making outrageous demands and accusations. Admittedly, it would have been politically correct for Percy to have stayed to deal with the matter properly instead of promptly dismissing the other man and attempting to storm off like a child, but regardless, Flint had no right to grab his arm and pull him back like some uncivilized neanderthal. Then the man had the gall to freeze and stare at his arm like all the secrets to the world were hidden amongst his freckles, like Percy actually had time to waste waiting for him. After a few moments of empty silence the lithe redhead had scowled and- with sickenly fake politeness- excused himself, once again turning to go. Flint hadn't stopped him, but Percy had felt his gaze resting insistently on his back as he walked away.

And- to top it all off- he had gotten just under two hours of sleep the night before, mainly because of the Minister's spontaneous decision to skip the day, which meant that he was forced to come in ridiculously early in order to alert the rest of the Minister's staff and recreate the entire month's schedule of set deadlines. He hadn't eaten all day because of the sheer magnitude of problems and complications that had came his way and- in order to get everything done- he had been forced to stay in late, again. Studiously working hours past the ministry's closing time and the end of his shift. Now- at around 2:45- he was finally headed home after coming into work at 3:00 the previous morning. He had been working continuously- without breaks- for almost twenty four hours.

Needless to say, Percy was exhausted.

His steps were slow and he was stumbling slightly though the halls towards the door of his flat, his vision blurring despite the glasses perched on his nose. His auburn curls were a mess- a drastic contrast to the sleek professional look he normally had them tamed into- due to him running his fingers through them in stressed agitation throughout the day. And his robes had lost the clean, pressed look from before, leaving them equally as rumpled as the rest of him. His shoulders sagged and he let out a muted gasp of pure relief as he stopped in front of his door, the familiar numbers gleaming comfortingly at him as he clumsily reached for his keys. After a few frustrating seconds of fumbling he was able to slid the key into the deadbolt, turning it and swinging the door open. He was just about to step inside when two hands shoved him from behind.

Percy fell, staggering forwards and hitting the ground with a painful 'thump'. Moaning softly he turned to look to look at the silhouette standing inside his flat, in front of his door. "What the-" The door slammed shut. And the man was still inside. Percy's eyes widened fearfully as he stared at the blurry figure in front of him, his glasses had fallen from his face. "W-who-"

"We need to talk." The man said, efficiently interrupting the frightened redhead. His voice was gruff but with undertones that hinted at a warmth and sincerity that were- Percy blinked. I know that voice…

"Flint?"

The lights flicked on and Percy was able to recognize the larger man, even despite his blurry vision, once he was bathed in light. He got up shakily, jumping as something was thrust into his hand only to relax slightly as he recognized the feel of his glasses. He put them on, welcoming the clarity they granted him. "Thank y-" He froze, what the hell am I thanking him for?! "You asshole!" Percy shook with sudden rage. "You unbearable, insufferable, self-intitled, miserable, invasive sonofafuckingbitch!"

Flint looked vaguely insulted.

"What the hell give you the right to break into my home?! What makes you think that this is in any way okay?! What the bloody hell Flint?! Is this because of earlier? Is this some delusional form of revenge because you froze up like an imbecile whe-"

"Are you even going to let me get a word in?" Flint interrupted, "Or are you going to scream all night," he leered suddenly, "Not that I wouldn't mind hearing you scream, for the right reasons, of course."

Percy gaped, staring incredulously at the man for a moment before starting to sputter. "You- you- arghh!"

"Don't hurt yourself Weasley."

He could feel his face reddening and Percy marched forwards, pulling himself up and deftly ignoring the fact the Flint towered over him by more than a few inches. "Now you listen here-" He jabbed a finger roughly against the taller man's chest before opening his mouth to fire off a few choice words when, suddenly, Flint's hand snapped out. Capturing Percy's and dwarfing it in his massive grip. The brunette then used it to pull Percy in harshly, leaving only a breath of space between their bodies before bending down to his level and speaking in a deceptively quiet voice.

"When I said that we need to talk, I meant that you need to listen. So shut up. And listen."

Percy couldn't help the small whimper that escaped him and he barely- just barely- managed to fight down the irrational urge to submit to the larger- stronger- man at the power and dominance in his tone. Flint waited a moment, before nodding in approval and releasing the wide-eyed ginger. Neither of them stepped back.

"Now, are you going to listen?"

Glaring, Percy opened his mouth, "I-"

"Are you going to listen?"

The urge rose up in him again, pressing, drowning, suffocating, insisting that he submit, it took his breath away and a small noise of protest tore past his throat before he nodded. The sensation vanished the second he decided to obey.

"Good boy."

Outwardly the redhead bristled at the taller man's words but internally he was overwhelmed. The intense feeling of sheer pleasure at the approval in the other man's tone was strange, foreign and Percy was terrified at the reactions his body- and mind- had been having since his encounter with Flint had begun. Percy bit his lip, desperately squashing down the need to hear him say it again. "Just get to the point."

Flint seemed to struggle with something for a moment before all traces of hesitation vanished from his features, once again leaving him looking confident and strong. "I'm a vampire. And you're my mate."

He kept talking after that, his mouth moving and his hands moving along with his words but all Percy could hear was a muted, static buzz. It was like- somehow- he had gotten mounds of cotton or fuzz stuck in his ears because all sound was reduced to that horribly distant buzzing. Flint was still talking, seemingly gaining confidence at Percy's silence because his face was less closed off, less distant. But Percy still focused on those words. On that word. Mate. He knew what that meant, after years at spending all of his free time at Hogwarts in the library, how could he not? But he couldn't- wouldn't- comprehend how that word could possibly be connected to him. Nor what drugs Flint would have to have been influenced by in order to make this large of a mistake, after all, the books had always said that vampires could tell- could just know with an unwavering certainty who their mate was after just a touch. Skin to skin.

Although that would explain his stunned look in the Ministry when he had grabbed Percy, but it was much more likely that he was disgusted that he touched him, not that- not because- he had to be wrong. There was no way- it wasn't possible- that they were mates. Mates were perfect for each other, complementing each other in every way. Balanced. Similar in all the right ways and different in all the wrong ones. But they weren't- they couldn't be- it didn't- it wasn't-

We can't be mates. I-I- I can't be…. I can't be his.

Suddenly Percy's distant, almost comforting, calm was gone. The world came rushing back in an overwhelming whirl of sound, noise, color and lights. All blinking and flashing and assaulting him. It was loud- so loud- all crashing and hammering against him like angry waves. His breath hitched. The words were there, swirling around in his head, maybe even in front of him- in front of his eyes- there. Just right there. Hovering, swirling, screaming, there. You're my mate. You're my mate. You're my mate. His vision narrowed, focused in on the suddenly frantic face of Marcus Flint, while all else faded to blackness. You're my mate. You're my mate. His heart was beating fast, very fast. Too fast. Was he running? No… Marcus is still there. The air had thickened somehow. Catching and dragging as he tried to gulp it down in desperate breaths, then, it fought him as he tried to expel it. He was choking on it, shoulders heaving as spasms wracked his body. You're my mate. You're my mate. Mate. Marcus was yelling something. His eyes wide and turning red around the edges. Vampire's eyes turn red when they are extremely aroused, angry, using vast amounts of power or if their mate is hurting or in danger, Percy remembered. You're my mate… My mate… Mine.

Then the air was gone. And his heart was beating so fast it hurt, an endless battering against his ribs, like punches. It hurt.

Darkness was eating away at his vision, taking it like the air was taken. Thief. Percy thought as he watched Marcus disappear into the black, his eyes fully red and scared. Then it came back for him, pulling, coaxing him in. Feeling safe- so safe. So Percy stopped fighting it. Instead he followed it. Letting it pull him down, down, down, down. He was falling- slowly- like Alice did down the rabbit warren, or how it felt coming down from a controlled Wingardium Leviosa. It was nice- soft. And then it was gone. And Percy could feel nothing.

Yay! Chapter number one! Let me know what you all thought by clicking every writers favorite button and plunking out a quick (or lengthy... those are always nice too) review!