"He should be bronzed . . . " Percy thought.
"I'm sorry, did you say something Perce?" Oliver regarded him curiously as he proceeded to pull a fitting dark blue sweater over his head.
Percy wasn't aware he had said that aloud. An awkward silence passed between them.
"Shit."
*
"You said something earlier, Perce. What did you say?"
Percy was in utter panic. "N-Nothing . . . it-it was nothing," He stammered, he inwardly cringed at the hysterical note in his voice. "Really, Oliver. It was nothing. Just drop it."
Oliver quirked a brow. "Funny . . . could have sworn you said something about being bronzed." He said, slowly making his way towards Percy's bed. And were his . . . oh, dear . . . Percy noted with both a combination of delicious anticipation and mortification, that Oliver's hips swayed as he walked. Damn him! DAMN HIM TO HELL!
What nerve! The bastard had heard him. He KNEW he heard him. He just wanted to be smug.
Oliver chuckled, positioning himself above Percy. "I'd be more then happy to indulge in your little fantasy, Perce, but-"
"I know," Percy murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'd love to indulge in your fantasy, but I'm not a pouf-"
"Perce-"
"Don't." Percy held up a hand to silence him. "Just . . . just don't."
"Percy," Oliver said, firmer, this time. "I wasn't going to say that at all, you silly faggot!" Oliver smiled affectionately, taking Percy's face in his hands.
Percy glared, upon being called a silly faggot. "Fine then, what WERE you going to say?"
"I was going to say, if anyone, it's YOU who should be bronzed." He spoke intimately in Percy's ear, nuzzling him.
Percy's eyes were satellites. "But . . . but I thought-"
"You thought, nothing! You think FAR too much, love." Oliver said huskily. "Far too much."
"Oliver?"
"Hmm?"
"Would you . . . would you like a kiss, then?" Percy asked, not meeting his gaze.
"Oh, Percy . . ."
TBC
"I'm sorry, did you say something Perce?" Oliver regarded him curiously as he proceeded to pull a fitting dark blue sweater over his head.
Percy wasn't aware he had said that aloud. An awkward silence passed between them.
"Shit."
*
"You said something earlier, Perce. What did you say?"
Percy was in utter panic. "N-Nothing . . . it-it was nothing," He stammered, he inwardly cringed at the hysterical note in his voice. "Really, Oliver. It was nothing. Just drop it."
Oliver quirked a brow. "Funny . . . could have sworn you said something about being bronzed." He said, slowly making his way towards Percy's bed. And were his . . . oh, dear . . . Percy noted with both a combination of delicious anticipation and mortification, that Oliver's hips swayed as he walked. Damn him! DAMN HIM TO HELL!
What nerve! The bastard had heard him. He KNEW he heard him. He just wanted to be smug.
Oliver chuckled, positioning himself above Percy. "I'd be more then happy to indulge in your little fantasy, Perce, but-"
"I know," Percy murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'd love to indulge in your fantasy, but I'm not a pouf-"
"Perce-"
"Don't." Percy held up a hand to silence him. "Just . . . just don't."
"Percy," Oliver said, firmer, this time. "I wasn't going to say that at all, you silly faggot!" Oliver smiled affectionately, taking Percy's face in his hands.
Percy glared, upon being called a silly faggot. "Fine then, what WERE you going to say?"
"I was going to say, if anyone, it's YOU who should be bronzed." He spoke intimately in Percy's ear, nuzzling him.
Percy's eyes were satellites. "But . . . but I thought-"
"You thought, nothing! You think FAR too much, love." Oliver said huskily. "Far too much."
"Oliver?"
"Hmm?"
"Would you . . . would you like a kiss, then?" Percy asked, not meeting his gaze.
"Oh, Percy . . ."
TBC