A/N: What, she writes something else besides cheesy Wolfstar? No... you must be kidding.

I've noticed that most of my fics/drabbles are dialogue-based, so I wanted to upload something different for a change. There's no dialogue here, just... horrible, horrible writing. This is actually the first English fic I've ever written, so hopefully you understand if this sucks utter bollocks. This was written exactly two years ago.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

Beta: Nope.

He knew they called him the Boy-Who-Never-Smiles, but that night Percy tried to leer cunningly, and of course as a result it made him look nothing like himself.

Meeting the captain's fatefully darkened eyes, he tried not to bite his own lips as he felt the tight warmth clenching around the three longest fingers of his right hand. As usual, he was thinking of something else, but when he heard Oliver plead him to stop playing and just take him, Percy banished everything else from his mind, removed his fingers, and after contemplating the whole situation, thrust himself carefully inside the waiting boy.

Oliver gasped loudly, and as Percy saw those flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes underneath him, the desire inside him burgeoned painfully. Nevertheless, the years of learning how to behave properly and to request a permission to do what he wanted to made him wait patiently until Oliver gave a small, trembling nod.

Only then he could proceed.

The cold tiles of the Prefect's bathroom absorbed every single cry that escaped Oliver's lips as Percy started to move. As his hips rocked instinctively, Oliver's nails dug deep into his back, leaving notable marks everywhere they reached. Both boys whispered meaningless words and empty phrases in each other's ears, knowing very well they didn't really mean anything.

The words didn't matter, for both of the boys knew that as soon as the heated moment was over, they would be forgotten.

Really, neither of them tried to make the moment something it wasn't, but muttering I-love-you's or oh-god-you're-lovely's was just something that seemed a proper thing to say at that time.

Between thrusts and whining, the redhead planted kisses everywhere on Oliver's gleaming skin, and after a frantic search Percy found his lips. He felt how Oliver hastily answered him, how his hands wandered on Percy' own slick back; and how his own hips still tried to fasten the ungodly rhythm. The growing pressure in his lower abdomen made Percy to withdraw from the buss and press his reddened face into the crook of Oliver's neck, whilst he reached to grasp the boy's sore erection between them. Oliver gasped for breath once again.

A longish moment of wordless moving passed.

Percy didn't loosen his grip on Oliver even though he started to twitch tremendously himself, and panting like he was afraid of dying, Oliver bit his teeth into the Head Boy's shoulder, making Percy cry and come instantly inside him.

Percy strove to kiss Oliver's everything as his hand around the stiffening boy's erection gave its final, releasing strokes.

Afterward as they lay there one on top of the other, sweat glinting on their skin, and tired, satisfied muscles leaning into one and other, Percy lifted his head and gazed into Oliver's exhausted eyes.

Someone might say that Oliver was frowning, but Percy knew better. He was just taking in the pure perfection of their moment of proximity, knowing it was not going to last any longer than the times before.

Oliver, on the other hand, was almost sure that Percy was smiling.

A/N: IDK, don't ask.