Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prompt: Yield

Oliver felt like he was being interrogated. He was supposed to be practicing for his upcoming national swimming championship today, diving in the cool water where he felt like he could do anything without gravity stopping him. Oliver loved being in the pool. The way he could navigate his way through the water with astonishing speed, the way the little droplets of water hit his body, the way he can only hear his own thoughts underwater, he loved anything about the pool, really. Oh how he wishes he could just ditch whatever he put himself into, and just make a run for the cool water on this sunny day.

Right now though, he was stuck in a classroom of a rich private school probably filled with pompous pricks that only get major bragging rights because of “daddy’s money” or something on a regular school day. But today, seeing that he had no academic extracurriculars, his mom forced him to do Model United Nations just for this summer. And it’s just Oliver’s nature that he didn’t spend any time preparing for this MUN shit at all; he thought he could just wing the entire conference and excel. Being terribly wrong about his assumptions, that’s how he landed himself into a situation where he ‘felt like he was being interrogated.’
He just finished a speech, speaking in complete shambles as he had no idea what the topic is, what he’s supposed to say, and everything else. Everything was a disaster so far, him saying “here” in roll call, him being called on by the Chair’s discretion, and his speech just now. It just seems that this weekend, he’d just have to absolutely humiliate himself because of the poor judgement he made a few weeks prior.
And forgetting what all the ‘How to Speak MUN’ phrases were, he only managed to stutter out a, “I yield my time to questions.” He’d soon regret this though, but for now, he just sees a curly red haired boy whose hand shoots up in a speed where Oliver swears was faster than a bullet train.

“Delegate of the UAE, you have been recognised,” the chair acknowledges the boy.

Giving the chair a small nod, the Red Head Boy (or that’s what Oliver decided to call him in his mind) stood up and replied with a solid, “Thank you, Chair.”
The Red Head Boy then started to ramble out words which Oliver assumed were supposed to be for a question, but he just zoned out soon after the boy opened his mouth to speak. He was only able to catch a few insignificant words like “the delegate” or “unrealistic” because oh god, Red Head Boy sure was pretty as hell. Red Head Boy had freckles that were sprinkled across his pale peach skin, his lips were a perfect pink colour that matched with the rosy hue of his cheeks, and his black round-framed glasses completed the absolutely cute looks that the boy had. His mind wandered to a show that his sister forced him to watch ages ago, where someone called a MUN kid an “Unfuckable Nerd” because of the word UN. He thought it was stupid, but it did manage to stick in his head and allow him to compose only 1 complete thought:

Who the hell said that MUN kids were “Unfuckable Nerds”?

By the time Oliver managed to get out of his thoughts, Red Head Boy was done rambling about who-knows-what, and was just staring at him waiting for an answer. Bloody hell, he’s even prettier when he’s just staring at me. Oliver, obviously unable to answer whatever question he was thrown, just quietly told Red Head Boy that he didn’t know the answer, and would get back to him later. He didn’t even know if ‘getting back to him later’ was an option, but hell, he definitely would, and might even add in his personal phone number along with the answer.
The chair told him that his time was up, and allowed Oliver to awkwardly shuffle back to his seat, hitting his foot on a few of the desks on his way. From his seat, he could see the right profile of Red Head Boy’s face from behind. He thought his face was cute, but somehow his neck was even cuter, and made him want to bite into the soft skin at the nape of his neck. Oliver quickly shook his thoughts from his head though, he was in an academic setting despite how much he hated to be there.

Oliver shifted his gaze from the boy to his desk, noticing a small stack of sticky notes. He recalled the chair saying that they were allowed to pass notes to other delegates using the sticky notes placed on their desks. This must be the one the chair was talking about. Oliver took a pen, and scribbled onto the note with his scrawny handwriting,

Hi UAE,

About the question earlier, I’ll get back to you tomorrow after I’ve done my research. But if you want to reach out before tomorrow’s session, here’s my number XXX-XXXX-XXXX ;)

Australia (or just call me Oliver, I don’t mind xx)

 

After writing this note, he was feeling unnaturally bold. I guess this is what seeing a pretty boy like him makes you do. Oliver just knew, that Read Head Boy and him, would definitely end up together. He shrugged to himself and reached out to the boy tapping on his shoulder, making the boy peer over his shoulder towards him. Oliver just smiled at him and handed him the note, earning him a small nod from the boy. The boy immediately opened the note and read through it. He immediately furrowed his eyebrows and held an expression of disapproval, probably from the last flirty bit that Oliver (shouldn't have) wrote. Oliver started to become slightly worried, about whether he just destroyed the possibilities of ending up with Red Head Boy, but soon discarded the thought. He saw the boy's ears turn a bright shade of pink, just like the pretty colour of his cheeks, spreading down towards his neck. He's blushing. Oliver took that as a sign of victory, smiling like an idiot to himself, forgetting the fact that he made a huge fool out of himself with his speech just 15 minutes ago. Maybe, just maybe, he could get Red Head Boy to be interested in him.

And all of a sudden, he didn’t think being stuck here was too bad.

Chapter Text

Oliver skipped down the hallway, looking for the same classroom that he was in yesterday, taking in the very expensive-looking view. The cleanly swept floors (and maybe even waxed, but he couldn't tell), lockers that looked brand new, and the warm chandelier looking lights just like the sun rays that flowed in through the windows. He imagined Red Head Boy walking in here on a regular school day, as he was pretty sure that the boy went here. Oliver pulled out his phone and swiped through until he found instagram, and with a quick flick to the right he activated the phone camera. He snapped a picture to brag just a bit about the fancy school he was in, and browsed the music options to accompany the story. Eyes still glued to his phone, he turned a corner when someone bumped into him. Just as he was about to look up and apologise to whoever he bumped into, he was cut off by a sharp voice.

“Watch where you’re looking, it’s not even safe to be looking at your phone while walking anyways——wait. You’re the boy from yesterday. Oliver, was it?” To Oliver’s luck, it was Red Head Boy. Great. Now he would think of me as “the idiot boy who bumped into him because he was too focused on his phone”. Oliver grimaced to this thought, and hurried to apologise to his soon-to-be-boyfriend.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry about that, I guess I wasn’t being careful enough. I didn’t hurt you though, did I? I’d hate to hurt a pretty boy like you,” the words came out of his mouth as if he’d been meaning to say that for ages. He was surprised with what he had said himself; he wasn’t planning on flirting with Red Head Boy anytime soon, at least not in this situation.

But on the other hand, Red Head Boy hadn’t said anything, making Oliver’s nervous feelings grow by the second. The boy just stood there, his mouth slightly hanging open. His ears were growing pinker by the second, though. Just as when Oliver almost decided to just flee from the scene, the boy stuttered out, “No, actually never mind, it’s okay. Don’t worry about this. Just be careful next time. Please.”
Relieved that the boy forgave him, Oliver nodded enthusiastically to this, “Alright, noted. Thanks!” And just like that, Oliver basically ran away from Red Head Boy. How normal is that? He wasn’t too awkward, right? He hoped that he handled the situation like a true charismatic popular guy, but he would never know that Red Head Boy was left alone dumbfounded and confused by Oliver’s sudden departure. 

Oliver somehow managed to find his way back to the room their committee was in, and ran in out of breath, muttering a small hello to one of the delegates that greeted him. The seats had changed, and he slowly made his way to his seat without bumping into any of the desk legs. Once sat down, he buried his head into his folded arms, sighing just by even recalling the encounter earlier. To distract himself, he rummaged through his bag to find a notebook and pen. After he’d gotten home yesterday after completely humiliating himself, he did some research about his country and the topic to not make a fool out of himself again (and to answer Red Head Boy’s question of course). He mindlessly flipped through the pages, reading over his research but not understanding a single word.
The door opened, and he saw Red Head Boy walk in. He somehow managed to walk loudly, business shoes clacking against the floor. Oliver followed him with his eyes not so discreetly, until realising that the boy’s seat was right next to his. He felt bold enough to sit up and rest his cheek on his hand, and send a flirty “Hey” to the boy with a small smile. The boy only gave him a small and embarrassed “Hi” in return, but it was enough to make Oliver happy. They stared at each other for a few more seconds until the chair cleared their throat, grabbing everyone’s attention.

This time, Oliver managed to answer correctly in roll call, confidently responding, “Present and voting.” He glanced over to his left, where Red Head Boy was sitting, until his country name was called.
“The delegate of the United Arab Emirates is present and voting,” the boy stated with a small grin. Some of the others scoffed at how extra the boy was being and trying to stand out, but Oliver smiled because in his opinion, that was just cute as hell.

Apparently the first thing that the delegates have decided to do today was an unmoderated caucus, which according to Oliver’s knowledge was: basically time to mingle and talk without worrying about those stupid speeches. He didn’t really grasp the exact concept of what it was, but he stood up from his seat anyway. As he was about to walk off somewhere, a random girl with brown bushy hair approached him.

“You’re Australia right? We know that your country has similar views and solutions to us. With that in mind, would you like to join our bloc?” She had stated so confidently, Oliver was kind of intimidated by her. He didn’t even know what country she was, but he knew that he needed to find this so-called “bloc” to join because apparently it’s really important that he does it in a conference. Oliver nodded without giving much thought, and the girl gave him an approving look, “Good. Now follow me, I’ll take you to our bloc. We need to start discussing our solutions for the draft resolution.”
He was taken to a corner in the back of the classroom, where there was a group of delegates huddled around and having an intense discussion. Oliver looked at each one of them, until his eyes fell upon Red Head Boy who was eagerly explaining his country’s stance on the topic. The girl introduced him to the “bloc” and Oliver decided to take the seat next to the boy. Damn, he really is committed to getting that boy. Red Head Boy stopped talking to look at him, flushing as soon as he recognised who it was.
To cover his embarrassment and change the topic, the boy sputtered out, “HiAustraliawhatisyourcountry’sstanceonthisissue?” Oliver was taken aback by this sudden outburst, and took a few seconds to decode what the boy said. He started to explain how his country is dealing with the main issue being discussed in the committee, and what kinds of solutions he thinks would be best to combat said issue. Sure, it wasn’t the most realistic and ideal idea, but it’s better than saying that he has nothing in mind. Once done explaining, he slowly took a look around the group, who were all looking at him. He hoped that they wouldn't interrogate him like yesterday, because he didn’t really have any more knowledge other than what he had just said. The girl from earlier just said “great” and moved on to whatever they needed to discuss, and Oliver let out a relieved sigh as everyone’s attention shifted away from him.

The next few hours passed by in a blur, with the committee switching back and forth from moderated and unmoderated caucuses. Although Oliver had done his research last night, he still wasn’t confident enough to do a speech after what he went through yesterday.
So instead, he spent most of his time staring at Red Head Boy, who on the other hand, seemed to always be doing speeches or yapping most of the session. He noticed that the boy was very expressive when talking, and his eyebrows moved a lot. The boy spoke with passion, voice filled with emotion and body just radiating with energy. He made it seem like he was born for this. He’d make a good politician or some sort, Oliver noted. Whenever the boy wasn’t talking, Oliver would notice the boy’s appearances. He wore a dashing suit, shirt crisp and tie tied neatly. He couldn't help notice that the red and gold stripes of his tie match with the fiery curls of his hair really well. And the silver of the tie pin complimented the boy’s stunning blue eyes behind his glasses, which Oliver almost found himself lost in. Oh, and the boy’s freckles. His pale peachy skin was adorned with sun kissed freckles that made him look like a beautiful starry night sky. He could just walk up to him right now and give him a big smooch on the lips right then and there. Oliver could go on forever listing what makes Red Head Boy look cute and attractive.
But he was pulled away from his thoughts when the chair hit the gavel twice, saying that they were all dismissed for lunch. He shifted his gaze back to the boy who stood up to probably head to the dining hall. Oliver followed suit, grabbing his bag and heading out the door. 

Walking to the dining hall a bit behind the boy, he was lost in his thoughts once again. He was glad that he let his mum force him into this conference. If not for his mum, he would’ve never had met the love of his life (who definitely isn't an unfuckable nerd) after all.

But now, he had to head off to lunch.

Chapter Text

OLIVER

Oliver was walking in the hallway but he wasn’t skipping this time; no, he couldn’t afford more embarrassment from people looking at him skipping his way across at the very mature age of 17. Ahead of him was Red Head Boy, who walked fast as if it’s his last day on Earth and had places to get to. He never really understood why people walked so fast when you can slow down to look at all of the things surrounding the ever-busy community of people. Oliver struggled to keep up and eventually gave up on following him, deciding that he’ll just find the boy in the dining hall and continue with his (unintended) flirting.
He began to observe the hallway once again. This time though, rather than noticing the details of the expensive interior, he started to imagine what it would be like to go to school here with the boy. In the distance, he could see the entrance to the dining hall where students would eat their lunch. Today, they were all to just eat their packed lunch from home, but he assumed that on a regular school day the students here were provided food. He could see himself walking with Red Head Boy, arms linked, giggling joyously amongst themselves as they made their way to the hall. He hadn't understood why some of the girls in his class always walked around with their arms linked—it’s so uncomfortable just imagining it. But he could see why now. It’s just so comforting and makes him feel safe in the other’s presence. He wanted to do that with the boy. And obviously snog him, duh. Oliver added on to his daydreaming thoughts, but shook away the rather invasive idea from his head.

He scanned across the dining hall in search of Red Head Boy who looked like he was just about to part ways with a blonde girl. He couldn’t help but eavesdrop into the conversation. What if she’s his girlfriend? Oliver definitely didn’t think of that possibility before. And to be honest, his crush on a boy that thinks he’s just an idiot bloke was stupid now that he thinks about it.
“See you around Penny, oh and good luck with that douchebag of a delegate. I hope his bloc’s resolution gets absolutely bashed by the others when he presents it later,” the boy snickered to the girl, to Oliver’s surprise. He obviously had only seen his stern “I will get things right for the sake of this earth” look and fell in love with it, but he didn’t dislike the playful side of the boy. In fact, he just found himself falling deeper and deeper by the minute. Damn this attractive boy and his hopelessness that’s feeding into his said stupid feelings.

His eyes followed the boy as he took a seat in a secluded corner of the hall, the view blocked from the entrance by a pillar that stood in between. He followed suit as the boy took out his lunch, seated without a single clue about what Oliver is about to do.

Without a word, he took a seat directly in front of him. Oliver didn’t know what to say nor do now, and froze for a few seconds contemplating his next move. He flashed a smile towards the boy.

“Hello Oliver,” the boy greeted him and shifted his focus back to his lunch. Oliver was about to greet him back until realising that he didn’t know the boy’s name.

“Hey, uh,” Oliver stuttered out. The boy seemed to notice what Oliver was stuttering like an idiot for. “Oh right, it’s Percy. Percy Weasley,” he told, a warm gaze and subtle smile meeting Oliver’s eyes. Oliver immediately noticed the change in the boy’s–or he should say Percy from now on–expression. He could feel his face heat up, because did the boy just smile at him?

He quickly composed himself though, and managed to muster out a decent greeting. Now that the introductions were done, he couldn’t think of anything to talk about. An awkward silence filled them. Or that’s what Oliver thought. Percy on the other hand was completely content with the silence, taking out a sandwich from his lunch bag and unwrapping the plastic.

Oliver thought of a conversation topic, “Uh, Insta. Do you have Instagram?” Percy looked back at him with a blank expression that made Oliver nervous. But that quickly faded, as he took out his phone and showed him his profile as if to silently say, alright now I showed you my username so hurry up and add me. Oliver fished his phone out of his mess of a backpack and typed in the user, looking back and forth from his and Percy’s phone so as to not make any typos. booksandpercy. That was his username, accompanied by a profile picture of a stack of Dickens books. It was cute in Oliver’s opinion, as he could imagine that Percy liked reading in his free time. He sent a follow request and looked up to Percy who was staring at him with that same smile from earlier. When he realised Oliver was done though, he quickly dropped the expression and took his phone back to check his inbox.

“Is it oliverwould?” Percy asked, and he gave a small nod in response. Now that he could see Percy’s profile, he spent a bit of time looking at one of the only 3 posts he had on his profile. It was him and an older boy that looked just like him. He swiped and looked through the photos in that post. A picture of the scenery, a stack of books, a swimming pool, a sandwich, and a photo of him with the older boy again, but in swimwear and holding a trophy. Now he recognised the boy in the photo, he was one of the seniors who was on the highschool swim team when Oliver joined as a freshman.

“What’s his name?” Oliver pointed at the older boy in the picture, and Percy raised a skeptical brow but answered nonetheless.

“Charlie, but why?” he answered, still looking quizzical.

Oliver explained himself, “I think I was on the same highschool swim team as him, he was a senior and I was a freshman at that time. Is he your brother?”

Percy’s brows were both raised now in surprise, “Yes he’s my brother and he was on a swim team. You swim?” Oliver smiled at this, happy that he wasn’t wrong. He looked up to Charlie, thinking of him like the older brother he never had.

“Yeah I do, the only reason I’m here today’s because my mam forced me to. Thought it would be a totally dreich experience, but hey, I met you,” he smiled sheepishly, internally cursing at himself for letting the words come out of his mouth. He looked up at Percy, finding him blushing and somehow managed to get redder by the second. Silence filled them again.

PERCY

Percy’s thoughts were in shambles. Who is this boy sitting in front of him?

Sure, he knew his name and that he was on the same swim team as his older brother, but why does he keep on appearing out of nowhere? First in the morning where he bumped into him, and of course during the committee sessions because he was in the same room as him, the brown hair girl bringing him into their bloc, and now during lunch where he just sat himself in front of Percy. What in the ever loving fuck could this Oliver boy want from him? But alas, the question in his head would just remain there, and his blush would remain as well.
When he first noticed the boy, it was yesterday during roll-call. He immediately knew that Oliver was a first-timer in MUN with the way he answered. Oliver had answered with a simple “here” to the chair. This caught his attention because to Percy, it was just natural for him to say “The delegate of blah blah blah is present and voting.” Heck, it’s probably embedded so deeply into his head that at this point, it’s purely his reflexes answering during roll call. Usually he’d just make fun of whoever mistook basic MUN procedures with his stuck-up inner monologue, but today it seemed that he wanted to know the owner of the voice. A deep, smooth, Scottish accented voice. A voice that sent tingles in his head to which Percy couldn’t decode why. His eyes scanned across the room, eyes landing on a brown haired boy with lightly tanned skin. He stared at him who fumbled when the chair corrected him for his mistake, and Percy found himself lightly chuckling to himself. He definitely felt something out of ordinary towards the boy at the time. Alright, weird.

His mind shifted back to reality, where he was still sitting in front of Oliver who stared at him with adoration. Percy cleared his throat, unable to take the awkward air anymore. He is not here to socialise in the first place. That was a good enough excuse for Percy to leave. “Well, good to know that you find our encounter today rather pleasing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m done with my lunch already and want to do some research before the next session starts. Today is our last day, you know,” Percy said a bit rushed, wanting to hide his flusteration. He had no research to do anymore, but in front of this boy, he was afraid to make a fool out of himself. Hee beelined straight to Penelope—a dear friend of his that he often called Penny—and sat in front of her, paying no attention to her other friends that she made in this conference.

“Penny I’m blushing every time this boy talks or flirts with me I don’t know which nor do I care but I’m blushing every fucking time help me please Penny what is wrong with me why can’t I say anything back to this stupid boy that can’t even answer a simple question,” he blurted out, which was enough for Penelope to figure that he was panicking. Panicking really bad. Penelope in question had just eyed Percy suspiciously, slowly standing up and excusing herself from her new friends.

She was a bit unhappy with the disruption, sighing before confronting Percy, “Did you really have to interrupt me when I’m having a good conversation with my friends? You have a crush, Percy. It’s just a crush. A silly, little, good-old crush.” She looked at him as if she was stating the obvious, but Percy tilted his head to the side in confusion, red curls falling over his face. Penelope let out a frustrated sigh before running a hand over her face. “Look, if you’re worried about the fact that you’re gay, don’t even worry about that. I know that you are, and it’s not like we’re living in the middle ages. Being gay isn’t a problem at all. You know that Perce,” she continued matter-of-factly.

This just scrambled Percy’s thoughts into something worse than shambles. His head felt like a tornado swept through, flipped his brain upside down, unleashed a group of monkeys to wreak havoc, and filled every bit with muddy water. He felt shocked and confused, to put it into simple terms. Percy wasn’t gay, he was straight. He even dated his now best friend Penelope at one point before breaking it off because of her being a lesbian. Besides, being openly gay wouldn’t fly when he runs for prime minister of England in the future. Not that he, of all people, had anything against gay people though. Nonetheless, Penelope’s confrontation had struck chords in Percy’s head that he didn’t know existed before.

“You have a crush, Percy. It’s just a crush.” “Look, if you’re worried about the fact that you’re gay, don’t even worry about that. I know that you are, and it’s not like we’re living in the middle ages. Being gay isn’t a problem at all. You know that Perce.”