A/N: Sorry, I can't help it, I adore Wensleydale in all his stuffy and lovely glory. What can I say? I love Percy Weasley too. It's the glasses I tell you.



Disclaimers: Me would likey if PTerry and GNeil would donate, but have have no word from the two of them. Tried calling/mailing again, seems like unlisted phone numbers and addresses have been put to effect. Me pout.



Warnings: slash as in Wensleydale/Brian.







Pansy





Wensleydale was a pansy, Brian decided long ago. The perfectly parted ash-blond hair, the glasses set just so. Sometimes he just wanted to punch Wensleydale when his mother complained that he was too messy or too loud or just too Brian and tried to set Wensleydale as an example.

It wasn't his fault that he grew up big and loud and messy, it was just the way he turned out, dark brown hair spiky and forever tousled, always with a streak of something across his face. And secretly, Brian was convinced that he had turned out better than Wensleydale. But even more secretly, Brian was a bit jealous of him.

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When Brian saw Wensleydale ten years later, sitting like he always did, back perfectly straight, he strolled over and just looked. Still a pansy, he decided, the hair was still perfect, the collar was still spotless, and even the loss of the glasses didn't help much.

And so Brian sat down and whispered "Boo" just for fun. And Wensleydale had jumped, perfectly straight and nearly smashed his face in with the large book he had been reading. And predictably, Wensleydale-like, stood red faced, hands on his hips, mouth pursed and eyes sparkling. Brian had grinned and proclaimed that he was kidnapping Wensleydale for lunch. Like a train he barged out of the library, Wensleydale pink with embarrasement and the girls at the front desk giggling at them.

They stopped when Wensleydale had dug in his heels and refused to be dragged anywhere like a common convict. A common convict, Brian thought, still grinning foolishly, only Wensleydale would ever use that phrase when what he really meant was a crook. So instead of going to eat at a crowded pub, they strolled in the park, and Brian bought ice cream.

And as Wensleydale sat on the bench, smiling with perfect teeth and dancing hazel eyes, looking up at him with something that made Brian feel all warm inside, he decided that if Wensleydale was a pansy, then he was HIS pansy.









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Awwww, fluff *sparkles* took a break from horror and despair. R&R will be greeted with proposals of marriage and life-long devotion.