Disclaimer: Not mine, but they will be put back in their place...later.
"Oliver, please!" Percy sighed through his old Gryffindor scarf, which was currently pulled up around his mouth and ears. "This is ridiculous!"
Grumbling incoherently, Percy was trudging behind Oliver in a forest covered with ankle-deep snow. Ever the manly man, Oliver slugged through it with ease and without complaint, carrying a hatchet. It was a Saturday afternoon in mid-December, and Percy had work to do for Cornelius Fudge. It was due on Monday, and he hardly wanted to give a bad impression to the Minister. After all, it had taken him long enough just to get over the stigma of being named "Weasley," what with all the prejudice that his father had brought upon the family. If such a thing was possible, it had taken him longer to get the Minister to trust him. None of this was aided by the fact that the rest of his mad family was running around with Albus Dumbledore – a great man, really, but he was losing it – and his mad notions of Voldemort's return.
And even, with full knowledge of all of this, Oliver had dragged Percy out into this bloody forest, while it was bloody snowing, just to chop down a Christmas tree for the flat they shared in London.
"Oliver…I have work to do! Can't you just surprise me?"
"No can do, Perce," Oliver huffed, his spirit never faltering. "It's your tree as much as mine, so you need to help with the decision."
"But, the Minister-"
"Blah on the Minister. Our Christmas is more important."
Oliver turned around just in time to watch Percy flush in surprise, his horn-rimmed glasses threatening to fall off his face. The thought of anything being more important than work was completely foreign to Percy. Of course, he valued Oliver, and their first Christmas together since Percy had broken off ties with his family…naturally that was significant and special, but…so was his reputation. He'd had to claw his way up to be treated like a Ministry of Magic employee and not "just a Weasley," and Oliver knew how hard that had been. He also knew how hard it had been to sever ties with the other Weasleys; mad and treasonous though they were, they were still his family. Percy shivered from the cold and the thoughts he brought on himself, making his glasses finally fall off.
Chuckling, Oliver strolled back to Percy and picked up his glasses. He dried them off on his own scarf – a black one with the blue and gold Puddlemere United logo on it – and carefully slid them back onto Percy's face. As Oliver brought himself in close to Percy, he delicately pressed his lips to the redhead's. He massaged Percy's lips with his own, bringing a sweet moan from Percy's chest and a blush on his freckly face. Slowly, Oliver pulled away and smiled sweetly, but Percy wasn't looking at him. Rather, he was staring, wide-eyed, over Oliver's shoulder.
"Perce?" Oliver inquired softly. "Perce, are you okay?"
"That tree," Percy whispered. "It's perfect."
Oliver turned to look at the tree; as usual, Percy was completely right. He stepped back and wrapped an arm around Percy's waist.
"My brilliant boy." Oliver grinned, and Percy couldn't resist; he placed his head on one of Oliver's burly shoulders and sighed warmly, staring at the perfect tree.