Disclaimer: Sadly, these boys are not mine. They are, of course, the property of J.K. Rowling. I have no money. At all. So please don't hurt me.
Warning: This is slash. Yep. Pretty boys. Together. Not explicit, but still. If you've got a problem, leave. I don't want to hear about it.
I started this before book 5 and finished it after. In my world Percy is not a total jackass. So there. (sigh Why, Percy? Why?!?)
This is part of the "Just Another Cliché" series. (Which will probably remain unfinished. I know, I know… leaving things unfinished is totally out of character for me…)
Dedicated to Chris Rankin's bedhead (of course) and Sean Biggerstaff's voice.
Of Quidditch and Cauldron Bottoms
Chapter Three
One of the major problems with having such strong feelings for you friend and roommate is not knowing if he's at all attracted to you. No, allow me to amend, it's knowing he isn't attracted to you because why would he be?
The other main problem, though, is when he:
leaves a trail of clothing to the showers spends an awfully long time (in only a towel, of course) bending over to pick them up while seeming to catch you looking at him every nine seconds and spends an even longer time, still only in a towel, choosing what he's going to wear and then a bleeding eternity getting dressed, all the while seeming to stare directly at you
I'm going quietly insane…
*****
This wasn't part of the plan. It really wasn't. It just… When I came out of the shower I had gotten as far as getting dressed and sneaking down to the kitchens to get some hot cocoa for when he finally emerged from the Library. And then he was sitting on his bed, surrounded by papers and looking up at me.
So I started picking up my uniform and regrouping when I realized he was still looking at me. That every time I glanced at him he was looking at me. And I couldn't believe it. So I'm wondering and taking awhile choosing my clothes and noticing he was still looking at me, not constantly, but almost, and so I decide to be brave and see, just see, what'll happen when I get dressed…And I'm not the first to break eye contact. But I notice he's still looking at me, even without eye contact, and just can't let myself believe…
But what else is there for me to think?
*****
He's finally dressed. Finally. And with one last look, and I can't tell if the heat in that look was his eyes or my face, because I can feel the blood pulsing in my ears and know my face is scarlet, he leaves.
Just like that he walks out the door. I don't know how to react to that. So I try to calm my thoughts and get back to work on this damn essay.
And when I've finally succeeded and convinced myself it was nothing he's back nad sitting on my bed, moving my carefully arranged notes aside to make room for himself, and I just can't care because this time the heat is in his eyes, I just know it…
*****
I admit it, I had to get out. I was either going to start babbling idiotically or tear that Gryffindor jumper off and see how far down that brilliant flush went, because it was definitely below his collar by the end…
So I decided hot cocoa had been my initial idea. And a long walk through the cold corridors to the kitchens and back would help me know what to do… Hopefully.
But even by the time I was standing outside the door I couldn't get beyond giving him the cup and hoping I'd be able to look him in the face without making an idiot of myself.
I shouldn't have worried about not being able to look at him, though…
*****
He's handed me a cup and I tried not to think about it when our fingers touch for that split second but I can feel the blush creeping from my cheeks and I don't even realize what was in the cup until I've had a sip.
Don't get me wrong, we've had study breaks drinking hot cocoa before, but all I can think is that after that display earlier he's literally brought me a steaming cup of liquid aphrodisiac. And he probably hadn't thought of that.
Fortunately I've downed that sip and set aside my cup before I start laughing.
*****
I move some papers to sit across from him on his bed and hand him his cup. There's been eye contact virtually since I walked through the door and out fingers brush over the cup and it's so intense. He takes a sip and puts down his cup…
And starts laughing. And this I really can't believe. I'm frozen for a moment, unable to move as fear makes my blood run cold, that I'm halfway to the door when he's blocking my way, since when could he move so fast?, and still laughing. He manages to get out "Oh, Oliver…" between laughs before…
*****
As I start laughing I know I shouldn't, that it could and probably will ruin everything, but I can't stop myself.
And I was right. He seems rooted to the spot for a moment and I can see the hurt and fear in his eyes before he tries to bolt. Somehow, still laughing, I manage to block the door. I hear myself say "oh, Oliver…" and before I even register what's happening I've kissed him.
I'm not laughing.
*****
He kissed me. Barely a kiss, really. I didn't have any time to respond. But he's stopped laughing. And he's still blocking my way out. And now I know what he saw in my eyes for the half a moment I had been unable to move from his bed. The fear's the strongest in his eyes, and I don't like seeing him like that, so I do the only thing I can think to do. I kiss him back.
*****
He didn't kiss me back.
The realization of what just happened replaces the laughter with fear. But then before I can think to leave he's kissing me.
And, to give me a moment of cheesy clichéd-ness, it was perfect in its imperfection.
It's awhile before I'm able to tell him why I was laughing.
Finis
Hope you enjoyed the story.
Oh, and the reason it's every nine seconds is the Queer as Folk book of the same title. Fun times… Oliver wondering how for down Percy's blush goes is an idea from "a href=";", a Dead Poets Society slash story by Mona R. The idea for the hot chocolate is from a href=";, a series of original slash by Akira and Flair.