Disclaimer: Oliver and Percy are not mine. I'm making no money off of this whatsoever.
Warning: Slashy themes! And this is actual slash, not just implied! Hope you enjoy it! I may end up raising the rating in the next chapter...
Dedication: This is for Kitten. Damn that hobbit for spilling my makeup...
Author's Note: I don't know if the rating is going to change soon or not. It may. I might just end up doing some smutty bits. :-) I don't know though, I've been getting away from that lately.
I have to write this. I just encountered something more disturbing then anything my mind could ever have conceived off. I am still rather numb and shivering from it. But luckily I have this lovely little fic to occupy my mind!
Same As It Ever Was
Chapter 5
"I'd like that a lot."
I cannot describe the thrill his words send through me. I only nod, and turn away silently, any words caught in my throat. I have never brought anyone to see my small apartment before. I am overcome suddenly by a feeling of shame. What will he think of it? It's so small and sparse...at least it is clean. I would die of shame, bringing him to a messy apartment. I am not sure what is going to happen. I do not know what he expects from me, or what I am to expect from him. I must play this by ear, this strange situation I have found myself in.
"It's this one." I mutter, pausing before my door. Doubts assail me. Why did I do this? I am clumsy, and foolish, and I will make a mess of things. I unlock my door, opening it and stepping inside. Yes, this is a small and sad place to live.
"Very you." Oliver says, after a long pause. I flush crimson. That does not say much for me, I fear. Though I suppose it is true. My apartment is dull and lackluster, much like myself. It is simple and uncluttered. I nod, and stand, awkwardly as he looks around. I am not sure what etiquette calls for in this situation. I should offer him something.
"Would you like a drink?" Not that I have much. But it is the polite thing to do.
"No, thanks." He shakes his head, and I am relieved.
"Please sit down." I gesturing to the one chair. I wish there was more furniture, but there is no room. Oliver does, smiling at me.
"You look really nervous." He says. I flush again. It seems to be all I'm capable of tonight. Wonderful Percy, you're really impressing him. You have Oliver Wood, along in your apartment, showing interest in you, and all you can do is stammer and flush. And you wonder why you're still single?
"I've...I've never really been in this sort of position before." I admit.
"Ah." Oliver nods sagely. "No point to it, I suppose?"
"Well, actually no." I shrug and sit down on my bed. Neatly made, as always. I can't leave my apartment if the bed is messy. This is more familiar territory. "I've never been much for relationships. I see no point."
"And why isn't there any point to that?"
"Because. You find someone, you bind yourselves to each other for an undetermined length of time, and then it ends, and one or both parties end up getting hurt. They nurse their wounds for a while, become bitter and angry, find someone else, and the whole cycle starts again."
"And you know this how?" Oliver cocks his head at me.
"Well, it's rather obvious." I shrug.
"What about married couples?" Oliver pushes. "My folks have been together since they were kids."
"Yes, so have mine." I agree. "But that is a rare thing. Oh come on Oliver. You went to school same as me. You saw the petty power plays that went on, especially when it came to relationships. And I can honestly say my one relationship could have been detrimental to both of us."
"Why?"
"Well....I had no real interest in Penny." I confess. "I simply was with her because...well, honestly because of societal pressure."
"Perce, that's really sort of sad." Oliver frowns at me, and I shrug.
"It's the truth." Who is he to tell me what is sad? We can not all have charmed lives. "I was with her because it was expected of me. She was a dear friend, but as far as anything deeper..."
"Then why weren't you with someone you actually wanted?"
"There was...no one." I falter. I cannot tell him it was *him* I wanted. Longed for, when I gave in to longing. That would not go over well, I am certain.
"There was me." He says, rather cheekily I think. I give him a frosty gaze.
"And what makes you so certain I was interested in you?" I ask, sniffing.
"Oh, I'm not as dense as some people think." And he says this with a rather sly grin. "Quidditch wasn't *all* I paid attention to. And I can usually tell when someone likes me. If I'm wrong, feel free to slap me."
"Well...you aren't wrong." I admit. "I did...rather fancy you in school."
"And I'm assuming you still do, since I'm here now."
"I...I don't know." It's a lie. A blatant lie. I hope he can't see through it.
"Well, I hope so." Oliver continues, folding his arms behind his head. "I fancy you."
"Really?" I look at him calmly, hands clasped in my lap. I find it hard to believe that he fancies me. I'm nothing. Insignificant. I have no appeal, nothing to draw his eye.
"Yes, really. Fancied you since school, really. But back then you were too...what's the word? Anal retentive."
"And I've changed?"
"I hope so." He shrugs, and stands, smiling softly at me. "You seem...sadder."
"Sadder?" I tilt my head, confused. I don't think I'm more sad then I've ever been.
"Yeah." Oliver sits down next to me, and I shift to compensate for the dipping of the bed.
"I've not changed that much." I admit, turning my head to look at him.
"Yes. You have." His hand lifts, fingers brushing my cheek. I shudder at the contact. His fingers are warm. "Let me look at you, huh?" His fingers brush against my glasses, pulling them away. I blink, my eyes adjusting. Oliver's fingers return to my cheek, lightly stroking. I swallow, nervously. His eyes are searching mine, and I am lost in their warm darkness. So soft and rich and soulful. I am lost in them. My lips fall, parted. It is something I do not plan on doing, it simply happens. Oliver's eyes are smiling, and he closes the distant between us, his lips pressing softly against mine.
It is beautiful. His lips are warm and moist and tender. They fit against mine perfectly, full on firm. His fingers on my cheek slide back, tangling in my hair. His lips move against mine, gently. I close my eyes, my mind a soft, blissful blank. This is heaven. My hands remain in my lap, though. I was never good at this sort of thing. I move my lips against his, bottom lip sliding against his, tasting the subtle hint of chocolate on his mouth. I try and take everything in at once. His skin is soft, and there is the slightest hint of stubble on his chin. My hands unclasp, one seeking his. I twine my fingers in his, squeezing gently. And then he is pulling away, and I feel empty.
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