AN: Written for the Percy Weasley Competition and for the Social Media Competition (sub-category: hashtag)
Percy groans when Kingsley shifts beside him. He knows what this means. Kingsley is a wanted man now. Visiting Percy had been a foolish risk, but, for one moment, Percy had been able to pretend that everything would be okay somehow. But the subtle movement is a painful reminder of the reality they're facing.
Kingsley is a traitor to the new Ministry. He has no choice but to run.
"Stay," Percy mumbles, though he knows it's no use.
The older wizard gives a heavy sigh, stroking Percy's hair. "You know I can't, Percy," he says, and there's a hint of vulnerability in that deep, reassuring voice that breaks Percy's heart.
"I know," he admits grudgingly, sitting up, the blanket falling from his bare chest and draping over his lap. "I could come with you."
Kingsley shakes his head. "Your family is being watched, Percy. If you disappeared…"
Guilt, heavy and acidic, rests in Percy's stomach, gnawing at his gut. His family. He wishes he could say he doesn't care what happens to them. He hasn't spoken to them in what feels like forever, aside from awkward, stiff exchanges with his father at work.
But he does care. More than he could ever admit.
"I understand," he mumbles.
Kingsley tucks a finger under Percy's chin, forcing him to look up. "Go to them, Percy. They need you now more than ever, you know."
He wishes he could wash the guilt away somehow, but it clings to him, staining deep down inside.
"I know."
Kingsley presses a quick, hard kiss to his lips. "Promise me. Promise me you'll make amends with them."
Percy turns, staring pointedly at his wall. He can't meet Kingsley's eyes without the guilt growing.
"Percy."
"I- I will," he says, though he doesn't know how to even begin to make things right.
"Good boy," Kingsley says softly, patting Percy's cheek before climbing out of bed and slipping into his robe.
"You'll write me, won't you?"
"Whenever I can."
Percy bites back a disappointed sigh but nods. "I'll miss you."
"You too."
He wishes he could pull Kingsley back to bed. Just for one more moment. Everything he's known is falling apart, and he longs for those strong arms offering him safety and reassurance.
But Percy is far from stupid. He knows that reality isn't always about happy endings. He knows that love doesn't always mean staying.
"Be safe, Percy. Be good. And for Merlin's sake, reach out to your family."
"I will."
Kingsley leans down. One last embrace. One last kiss. Percy memorizes everything he can. The way Kingsley smells like sweat and sandalwood, the way he tastes like sunshine, the way his muscles tighten ever so slightly around his slender frame.
And then he's gone without a trace. Percy tells himself that he will not cry, but traitorous tears dot his lashes.
He falls back in bed, curling up and clinging to the pillow that's still heavy with Kingsley's scent.
But pillows are poor substitutes for lovers.