It started with a Trickle
Percy Weasley couldn't sleep. There was a constant drip dropping that rang throughout his apartment, especially in the cold nights of solitude when the neon sign from the club across the street would illuminate his small flat. It started with a trickle, every now and then when the tap wasn't screwed just right. Over time the tap itself grew loose and it would drip drop constantly. He'd tried spells but none seemed to work for long. It was if the tap had been hexed, doomed him to nights of unrest because of that blasted drip drop drip drop…
The nights spent awake gave him time to contemplate his life. The ins and outs, the habits he'd adopted, the changes he'd made and the things he'd lost. He'd lost his family because he'd let Fudge brainwash him into thinking Dumbledore was a mad fool. There'd always been an inkling in his brain that Dumbledore wasn't the fool he was made out to be, Percy was grateful for being made head boy by the headmaster but still, when you influential boss tells you something, what do you do? Listen or get fired.
Then there was Oliver Wood. His former best friend and former lover. He'd loved Oliver with such a passion that sometimes he'd wanted to say 'Sod it!' throw away the rules. If he'd have known the things then that he did now he'd have gone with Oliver anywhere, done anything, shown his affection for the world to see. But when you're in a gay relationship, working for the rather homophobic Minister for Magic and trying to get yourself up in the world, you're forced to choose.
Percy had made the wrong choice.
Oliver had held so many ideas for them, so many dreams that Percy wished they could be living, knew they could have been living. Oliver would kept things quiet, told the media that his love life was private, he was a star for quidditch so that's what he'd talk about. Oliver had wanted the large house in a nice part of town with the white picket fence, the swing in the front and the dog rolling in the grass or sleeping on the porch by their feet. He'd wanted the quiet nights, as well as the lusty ones, where nothing mattered but them being together. They'd rise through the ranks, admittingly Oliver didn't really have many to rise through but he'd dreamed of them being somewhat famous, maybe even respected as a couple when they eventually and inevitably came out together.
But that was the past and with hindsight, Percy longed for it. Laid in his large bed, the one real luxury in his small but perfect for a workaholic apartment, Percy moped. The muggle disc player he'd received as a secret Santa present was playing an album by a muggle band, One republic and Percy was finding that most of the songs were making his sour mood worse. Percy glanced at his alarm clock, three in the morning, giving him four more hours of contemplation. He groaned and turned off the cd player before fishing for the muggle-vision remote. Some bright wizard in Romania had invented a fabric that could be placed anywhere and would show any muggle or wizard station in the world. Pulling his blankets further around him, Percy curled up with a yawn. Black and white film, the new Gilderoy Lockehart Junior film, documentary on the mating of Hippogriffs, News: Oliver Wood injured in quidditch match, Shopping channel, Playwitch, wait, Oliver Wood injured? Percy sat up, now more alert then ever and heart
Thundering in his chest. Oliver was hurt? How? What? Why? When? Who? Percy's finger beat the volume button as a smiley faced woman appeared on screen, a bit too smiley. "Hi, So as many Puddlemere U fans saw today, Oliver Wood was brutally knocked off his broom when Chudley Cannons' chaser and captain, Marcus Flint, stole a beater's bat form none other then Luke Pucey, one of the Puddlemere beaters. In this appalling and illegal move, Flint took the bat, almost knocking Pucey off his own broom before aiming a bludger successfully at Captain Wood. Officials for Chudley Cannons are refusing to speak whilst the Quidditch board are meeting early tomorrow morning to discuss Flint's punishment. Oliver Wood is said to be in St.Mungos, recuperating although the details of his injuries have yet to be released to the public" Percy drowned out the rest of what the perky woman was saying as he watched the slow motion play back of Oliver's fall. His face was contorted as he feel several hundred feat. Luckily his fall slowed towards the ground due to some on hand medi-wizards but it looks like Oliver was very lucky not to have died.
Percy vomited. His eyes stung with tears and there was still some bile swilling in his stomach. Merlin, Oliver was badly injured. He'd hit the floor with a bone crushing sound and Percy could feel nothing but a weight wrapped tightly around his chest. Percy bit hard against his lip, blood pulsing in his ears. He didn't know what to do, how to get hold of Oliver, how he'd react if Oliver didn't.. No that wouldn't happen. But would Oliver ever want to talk to him again if he did see him? He had been the one that had ended their relationship after all. The drip drop in his apartment was replaced by a louder, more angry tip tap as rain began to beat against the window panes. Percy mused that the weather was letting go the tears he was trying so hard to keep in. He still had his pride.
Percy turned off the muggle-vision and sank under the blankets he'd always slept with. One red duvet a replica of that he'd slept under at Hogwarts and a purple and gold Puddlemere United blanket, the material form of his guilty secret of not being over Oliver Wood after two years of no contact. He let out a soft whimper into his pillow, the one that was also Puddlemere merchandise. He'd give anything to see Oliver again. He knew the other man probably hated him, would want him dead possibly but he'd have to go see him again, or at least write once he knew Oliver was better. He tossed in the bed a few times, one of the signs that he wouldn't be getting any sleep. With an agitated and desperate groan he heaved himself up, padding barefoot across the cold laminate flooring to the corner of the small apartment that was his oh-so-tiny kitchen. He poured some milk, a habit Oliver had gotten him into and still had yet to have been broken and sat himself on the kitchen counter, looking out into the rain. The neon blue sign for the strip club across the street flashed and buzzed, some of the letters didn't light up so Robin's Rump was now 'Ro in ' Ru'.
After a while some white dot began to grow in the distance above the strip club, quickly growing closer and larger. It wasn't long before Percy realise it was an owl, quickly unlatching the window so he'd be able to pull the poor creature in so it could be warmed up and dry before it set off again. The snowy barn owl was greatful for the pellets and mouse Percy offered it, happily snuggling up to his owl, Adonis, whilst it dried. The two seemed to twitter and twerp between themselves almost like a human conversation. Percy had set the letter to a side whilst he'd attended the poor creature but once he was sure it and Adonis wouldn't attack each other he moved back to read it.
"Percy,
We know you and Oliver haven't had contact since the 'incident' but he's gone missing. He was in St.Mungos for the injuries which you've probably heard about but somehow he's gone. No one knows how, security is very tight here. Please, look out for him. He's not fully healed yet.
Love, Cherry Wood and Thomas"
Percy's brows furrowed and his heart began to clench again. Oliver was missing and still weak. It was pouring outside and the bloody idiot had somehow gotten out of one of the most guarded buildings in the wizarding community. That was Oliver for you. He was quick to dress, pulling on jeans and a sweater with a water proof coat. He always left his keys in the lock and quickly unlocked the door, and swung it open, only to fall face first over a heap on the floor. The lump heaved a groan, Percy guessed of pain, and twisting, he turned, somehow, to see what it was. Percy's heart slowed. Oliver was safe. He squirmed to all fours, pulling Oliver up into a sitting position. "Bloody Scot, what are you doing here? You should be in hospital! Your mother's worried about you" Percy placed a hand to Oliver's forehead, slightly warm and soaked from either sweat or rain but probably both, and hoisted the man up to his feet. He guided Oliver to his bed with great difficulty, he still had a much thinner frame then the quidditch athlete.
"I thought I was going to die, Perce" Oliver's brown eyes were glazed over as he looked up at Percy with a very fearful and honest expression. Percy could feel himself melt as he stripped Oliver of the damp breeches and sweater he'd managed to pull on before escaping the building. Looking over the man's body there were no gashes, some bruising but most of his body seemed to be healed save for the mass bruising over his ribs, shoulder and legs. Oliver's eyes were puffy and in the darkness Percy could tell he had a black eye. He could feel his eyes begin to sting again. "What were you doing out here, Ol?" Percy noted that it still felt easy to use the shortened nicknames they had used for each other. Oliver was the only one who'd ever been able to get away with calling him Perce. Percy pulled the covers over the injured man, now clad in just boxers. He left Oliver for a few moments to get the man something to drink, not sure what to feed someone in Oliver's condition. "Here, drink something" He sat himself next to the athlete with a glass of water and a glass of milk, offering each to the man. Oliver took the milk, sipping cautiously before Percy helped him, holding the glass steady. Percy didn't say anything, waited for Oliver to settle a bit, there was no point trying to drag him back to St. Mungos, not yet. He could see the irony in the situation too, he pines over Oliver, Oliver gets hurt, Oliver goes missing from hospital, then turns up on his doorstep. Percy wondered whether that was too big a coincidence or not.
Oliver had drifted off to sleep rather quickly and at 6am Percy sent Adonis to the ministry explaining he would be off sick for a day or two and any work would be caught up on as soon as he returned to the office. The St.Mungo's owl was sent back, stating that Percy hadn't wanted to return the owl in such bad weather and had been out the previous night in search of Oliver. If he found him, he'd send word. He wouldn't keep Mrs. Wood waiting too long. She was a caring woman who loved her son and Percy, despite the fact he knew he didn't deserve that love for breaking her son's heart.
Oliver woke three hours later, slightly disorientated at not being in the hospital bed but quick to recognize the old familiar apartment he'd once begged Percy to move out of. Percy himself was curled up and asleep on a large arm chair across from the large bed. Oliver's heart sped slightly. He wasn't sure what he'd been thinking last night, he had been scared, yes, but he knew he wasn't near death. St. Mungos had ensured that. He blushed slightly, noting he was in just his boxers, obviously Percy's doing. He drank from a glass of water besides the bed before pushing himself from the bed, wrapping the red blanket around his shoulders as he moved to wake Percy.
The red head stirred slightly, giving a snore before waking suddenly. He blinked, startled to see Oliver and blinked. "Err , Good morning, Ol" He smiled uncertainly, still no clue as to why Oliver had turned up on his door step. There was the hope that it was because Oliver wanted to get back together. If Oliver asked then Percy wouldn't dare dream of saying no. He'd spent their years apart longing to have back what he missed. He rose quickly and began to fix some food, choosing dry toast in case Oliver's stomach had suffered in the accident. Showing he was recovering well, Oliver managed to eat at least half a loaf of toast, pleasing Percy. The quidditch player had always been a human rubbish bin.
It was only once the toast had been finished and the dishes were drying on the rack that there was an evident amount of tension between the two men. Percy was sat back on the chair, this time a bit closer to the bed, whilst Oliver was perched on the end, half dressed in his now dry jeans. "Why here?" Percy couldn't look at Oliver but knew it didn't matter as the other man wouldn't be able to look at him. Oliver shrugged, noisily running a hand through his hair. "Instinct?" He knew it was gut instinct that had lead him here, it had been his heart, brain and soul. His heart was with Percy and his near death experience had shown him a few things. "Look, Perce" Oliver paused for a moment, both raising their heads to meet eyes. Percy's mouth opened, closed, reopened once, twice, shut firmly. "I need you back" It was a simple statement, an honest statement and it mean everything to Percy Weasley. The red head gave a nod, moving the distance to flop beside Oliver who instantly shoved the fragile redhead backwards, sprawling over him. Percy gave a chuckle, Oliver had always loved to be laid on something. It wasn't some psychoanalytical thing, merely the fact that Oliver liked to feel supported and to know he had things covered, or in this case, Percy. He'd protect Percy as long as he let him.
"I needed you too, Ol. I was so stupid to let things go the way they did" Percy looked wide eyed at the other man, glad to let the weight off his chest as he confessed what he felt was his biggest sin. Oliver had pulled him under the blankets by this point, had stripped him of his clothing so he could feel Percy's skin against his own. "Stay this time?" Oliver's voice was small and it wouldn't of physically been possible for Percy to reject him. With a kiss placed to Oliver's heart, then palm, Percy pressed Oliver's hand over his own heart, locking eyes with the other man "Keep it for me?" Oliver nodded, pressing his own lips over Percy's heart. Spooning to the red head, he waited a few moments before stating. "If you're not going to accept my offer of moving to my flat would you at least fix that damn tap?" Percy had forgotten about it entirely and would again, once he finally moved in with Oliver.
Author's Notes: Well Tada! It's a bit of a strange one I think, I wrote it over 24 hourss, first half written before I went to bed, second once I'd woken up.
It was inspired by the prompt "It started with a trickle.." Taken from the PromtADay community on LJ.
Hope you like it!