Pansy packed up her things a few minutes before five o'clock and made her way to Percy's office. After a minute or two of knocking on his closed door with no answer, she retreated back down the hall.
By the time she returned to her desk, a memo owl was strutting around its surface. How Percy had gotten a note to her desk without it passing her in the hallway, she didn't know. But his neat writing said: Give me 10 minutes, meeting running long.
She wandered to the loo to freshen up, spelling her hair and makeup back to their morning-fresh appearance and altering her blouse, lowering its neckline and transforming her bra into a pushup. Satisfied with her changes, she made her way back to Percy's office. Hepzibah was leaving as Pansy approached.
"Sorry about that," Percy said, looking up from his papers as Pansy stood in the doorway. "We needed to finish going over tomorrow's meeting with our ICW delegates, and it took longer than I expected."
"It's fine, Percy. You've got a busy job."
His eyes traveled down to her recently adjusted blouse and then trailed further down, before flicking back up to her face. The roguish smile from lunch was back on his lips, and her stomach did a little swerve at the sight.
"You look gorgeous. Have you changed since lunchtime?" He rose from his seat and reached her in two strides, flicking his door closed as he approached her.
She gave him a coy smile. "A lady never tells her secrets."
He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her flush to his body, and bent to give her a toe-curling kiss. One hand roamed to her arse and the other tangled in her hair. She sank into him, fishing her hands under the back of his jacket and fisting his shirt, its crisp fabric heavy in her hands.
"Can you come over tonight? And stay?" he asked.
"I thought you woke up early in the mornings and didn't want to spend the night together during the week."
His cheeks tinged pink. "I do wake up early in the mornings. But I can skip my morning run every once in a while."
"So what makes tonight different?"
"I'm just happy you're not seeing someone else, and I'd like to see you tonight."
"Oh." Gathering all her courage, she breathed, "There's no one else. Just you. I want you, Percy."
His face lit up, and he drew her into another kiss. This one gentler, sweeter, more tender. She could feel the happiness radiating from him, louder than any words he could have spoken.
A knock sounded at his door, and he drew away with a groan. "Come over around seven? I'll make dinner."
She nodded and pressed a last quick kiss to his lips, then opened the door. Hephzibah swept into the room, giving Pansy a cursory hello, and Pansy left, her body thrumming with energy like a guitar waiting to be played.
Percy's cooking skills were exemplary. Not as good as the Parkinson estate's house elves, but for a young bachelor, his pasta and roast chicken was excellent.
"Where'd you learn to cook like this?"
He chuckled. "I forget not everyone who went to Hogwarts knows about my mum's cooking, especially you Slytherins. She's an excellent cook, and I learned from her when I moved out on my own."
"That's nice," Pansy said, having no frame of reference for such a thing. House elves did all the cooking at her house, and even now, though she lived in her own flat, when she wanted to eat at home instead of out, she would order the Parkinson house elves to bring her dinner.
"What were your favorite meals growing up?" she asked. If someone had told her six months ago she'd be asking a Weasley brother for details about his family, she'd have laughed her head off. But she found herself genuinely interested in his background, because she was genuinely interested in him.
As they finished up dinner, Percy asked, "Was it lonely growing up as an only child?"
She tucked her chin back in surprise. "No, not at all. It was quieter than your house sounds, but not lonely. I spent a lot of time with other kids. I never really thought about it till now, but most of them were only children, too: Draco, Theo, Greg… Daphne's really my only childhood friend who has a sibling."
"That sounds nice." Percy looked wistful, like a child looking at lollypop they couldn't have.
When he didn't elaborate, she probed, "You didn't like growing up in a big family?"
"Not really, no. It was loud and chaotic. I never had privacy; at least, not in the house. I used to hide out in the orchard to think or read or just get away from the noise and constant energy.
"I think Bill and Charlie are a bit quieter like me, but Bill went off to school shortly after Ginny was born — I was only five — and Charle left two years later. So, really, I was the oldest brother to all of them for the next four years."
Pansy could feel growing tension radiating from him, like the potential energy of a wind-up toy increasing with each crank of the handle.
"I mean, growing up with Fred and George would drive anyone bonkers; even Ron and Ginny would agree. But especially if you prefer quiet and order."
"That sounds hard," Pansy said.
"It was. But some good came of it, I suppose. I don't think I'd be as good at my job or have the skills to move into an Undersecretary position one day, if I'd grown up in a small family. I learned how to handle the constant energy and noise around me, even though I still don't like it; and growing up with Fred and George taught me how to have a thick skin and how to be strategic in my relationships to get what I want. So, it set me up well for my career goals, at least."
"The Wizengamot's a busy place to work," she pondered. "You don't seem phased by the chaos, though."
"I'm not anymore. I just know I need time to decompress after work, to spend some time alone regrouping." He smiled sheepishly. "It's why I haven't come to your flat with you during the week, when we go out right after work. I can do it on a Friday night, because I have Saturday to regroup. But during the week, I can't be around people all day and all night and still be on top of my game the next day."
"Oh." Her voice came out small. She'd thought he was holding back because of her. She'd never considered that he just needed time alone.
"I'm sorry if you've been upset that I haven't come over on weeknights," he muttered.
"No, it's fine," she said. "I didn't realize you needed time on your own. I'm happy to go back to my own tonight, Percy."
He shook his head. "It's not like I can't function at work if I don't have time alone; it's just not my preference. But I had some down time before you came over." The roguish smile took over his face — the one that she found so attractive because it rarely appeared, and when it did, it was just for her. "So I've got plenty of energy for the rest of tonight."
Warm tingles washed over her skin in anticipation, but, perversely, voices in her head told her, He's too good for you, Pansy. He doesn't manipulate people or judge people like you do.
But I don't manipulate people anymore, she protested.
Don't you? asked the perverse voice in her head.
She didn't have an answer for it.
I'm trying not to judge so much, not to be so critical, she tried.
At that, the perverse voice laughed.
She had thick skin, and she could use it against her own self criticism just as she used it against external criticism. She sat up straighter and pulled her shoulders back. "That sounds nice," she told Percy, taking in his open demeanor, his coiffed red hair, those tortoiseshell glasses that drove her wild, and his forest green polo fitted against his tall, slim frame.
He grabbed her hand from across the table before he stood to clear their plates, unaware of the warring voices in Pansy's brain. Doing her best to silence them, she joined him in the kitchen, where he set the dishes to cleaning themselves with a flick of his wand. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she stood on tiptoe to give him a soft kiss, initiating something tender for the first time.
He pulled back and gazed at her for a moment, an inscrutable expression on his face, and then bent down and returned her kiss, just as soft and tender as she had started it. In the past, she would deepen it, turn it into something passionate and aggressive, but here, something in her bade her to keep it light and gentle, to treat the kiss as she felt Percy himself needed to be treated, as something worthy of holding on to loosely so that it might fully blossom, rather than crush it with a tight hand.
The dishes floated onto the counter, a dish towel unfurling itself below them, and Percy walked her out of the kitchen and toward the sofa. He flicked his wand to the stereo, filling the room with music, then drew her down on top of him. She leaned into his kiss and, slowly, sweetly, they took turns shedding clothing until she sank down, naked, on top of him.
They gasped together at the feel of their bodies joining, and Pansy tilted her head back in pleasure while his fingers worked magic on her. She felt like she belonged here, with him. She opened her eyes and gazed into his, her mouth open in a euphoric "O," and she fought the urge to babble meaningless sweet nothings at him as they rocked against each other.
Pansy's orgasm washed over her in long waves. She buried her head in his neck, clutching his arms and biting her tongue to keep from screaming as the frissons rolled through her body. The rapture seemed endless, and by the time she came down, she was panting. She pulled back, taking in his closed eyes and his brows furrowed in pleasure that looked like pain. His lashes fluttered open at the touch of her fingers across his cheek, and he stared at her with an intensity that made her feel as though he had ripped her open and could see down to the very essence of her being. Then he bent his head forward to her chest and came inside her, his body shuddering erratically and his fingers clamped almost painfully against her hips.
When his breathing slowed, he slumped back against the sofa cushions, gazing at her with hooded eyes and a dazed smile on his face. He pulled her toward him, running his fingers through her hair, and kissed her softly.
"You'll stay the night?" he asked.
She nodded, then buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat, thinking there was no place she'd rather be tonight.
