Work Text:
Percy wasn't in love. He didn't enjoy talking to Oliver Wood, didn't like when the keeper would throw himself roughly down beside Percy when they ate dinner. Or how their shoulders would brush when Percy walked Oliver down to the pitch on match days.
Percy wouldn't allow himself to enjoy Olivers purposefully stupid questions during his and Percys infrequent study dates. Percy hated how he thought of them as dates.
He hated how he couldn't help wanting to reach out and hook his hand in Olivers.
He couldn't help how he... Missed Oliver. Even if it was all his fault, and fully his choice.
It still made his chest ache.
***
It was Oliver who had been the strong one. Strong enough to say that he liked Percy. And Percy had sneered like Oliver disgusted him.
He'd ruined everything.
For all his supposed Gryffindoor bravery, he was a coward.
He could tell off bullies, and rule-breakers. He could tell the truth, as long as the truth wasn't his own.
What Percy was trying to tell himself was that he didn't like Oliver, and that thought took over, even if it wasn't true.
And it wasn't.
"Perce- Wait- What do you mean?"
"I mean I don't like you, Wood. I'm not... like that"
"Oh", Olivers brows had creased with such confusion that Percy was tempted to drop the act and kiss the crease of his skin,"I..."
"Goodnight, Wood"
"Right", Oliver said, blinking furiously,"Right, of course."
Percy turned away and tried to tame his heart. What a wild beast he was.
***
Percy closed his book and rubbed his dry eyes, pushing his stupid glasses up his face.
He was warm, tucked in his favourite thick blanket, and wearing some of Olivers old pyjama bottoms. The ones he'd stolen months ago, that Oliver had said he looked good in.
trust just the thought of Oliver to ruin his mood.
He'd ruined the both of them, with what he'd done.
He'd broken beautiful Oliver, and set himself up for a quiet, unspoken civil war.
That was the real reason he wasn't in his dorm yet, even though it was- Percy looked at the giant clock on the wall- nearly one AM.
Last monday, after Oliver had confessed, he had rearranged the books on Percys bookshelf. So that the books were lined up by publication date, rather than Percys prefered alphabetical oder.
Percy had retaliated by replacing Olivers broom polish with butter. He hadn't thought it would work, but apparently Oliver was clueless. Rumour had it that he'd fallen off of his broom three times in one practice.
The glory was short lived, as Oliver had managed to charm the shortbread to permanently stay out of Percys reach.
Percy hid Olivers soap, which backfired because Oliver replaced Percys hair gell with water, making his curls messier than ever.
Percy had decided, finaly, that Oliver needed taking down a notch, and purchased muggle hair dye to slip into Olivers shampoo.
He had yet to work up the corage of pouring it into Olivers shampoo.
He stared into the flames.
There was so much he wanted to say, he wanted to fix them. Percy wanted them to be normal again. He wanted to want Oliver again, like he had before.
When he ached gently; lovingly.
Now his love for Oliver felt like a wildfire, bubbling inside, burning him, turning him empty and void. The smoke choked him. The flames consumed him, and none of it was visible to a single human soul.
He felt as though it would kill him.
His father had once said he would die for love, but Percy didn't want to doe for something invisible.
***
The next morning, Percy kept one eye on the doors, when Oliver walked in- hair a gentle lavender- he walked straight to Percy and slamed his hands down on the table,"What the fuck", he growled.
Percy raised an eyebrow.
"This isn't fair."
"Is it not?", Percy spat,"It took me six hours to re-shelve my books"
"You deserved that"
Percy's facade dropped,"No I didn't, asshole"
"That's a bad word, Mr. Prefect"
"Fuck you", Percy snapped, reaching for a slice of toast,"Just because it takes dire conditions for me to swear, doesn't mean I can't"
"What brought these dire conditions to town?", Oliver mocked, yanking at a chunk of his soft, lavender hair. "Was it me confessing to you? Huh? Was it that? Was it me moving your books, are you shortbread starved?"
"You're suck a dick", Percy snarled, kicking Olivers leg under the table,"Of course I freaking miss you. I wonder what my dire conditions could be. Maybe I miss my best friend."
"I was never your best friend" Oliver gripped the edge of the table,"If you can't deal with me liking boys? Then we were never friends"
"Seriously- you think I care about that!"
Oliver smiled softly, and for the fist time, Percy saw how tired he looked. How broken.
"Of course I do, Perce. Why else would you hate me?"
"I don't hate you!"
"Course you do", he let out a bitter laugh,"You left"
Percy looked down silently,"I had too", he whispered to his toast.
When he looked up, Oliver was gone.
***
After that, there was scilence. Oliver did not tease or prank him, did not look at him with longing or any other emotion. Oliver did not seem to see him at all.
And worse than that, Percy realised, finaly, that he had not seen Oliver either. He had misjudged him greatly.
Percy, whose heart had fluttered constantly for Oliver, noted that he had always liked Olivers happiness, his joy was constant.
And, in truth, Percy wondered if that joy was for him, or everyone.
But no matter how much Percy loved the good in Oliver, he had never thought about the bad. Oliver was compulsive and held a grudge like nobody's business, he was, if anything, quite mad.
And he had a horid habit of leaving his socks around the room in crumpled heaps, and then putting them on again the next day!
And even if Percy found these things annoying or disgusting or a pain in his otherwise unbothered arse... He liked those too.
Because it was Oliver.
And, for gods sake, who cared if Oliver was a bloke? If Percys heart was willing and wild for Oliver, why in Merlins name should his head disagree?
***
Percy slid into the library and audibly groaned at how full it was, the students who needed theor homework done for the monday morning were all working hurriedly, and each table was occupiedby a horrific splay of children.
Percy spotted Oliver at a table near the window, and made a beeline for his roommate.
He triped over a skinny hufflepuffs bag and fell against the back of a chair on his right. He wheezed and stood up, brushing some imaginary lint from his trousers, and tried not to look to embarrassed.
He looked at the empty seat across from Oliver and caught his eye-
it was a bare moment of contact, in which Olivers coffee brown pools flitted over his face, examining his lips, his nose, the arch of his brow- his grey eyes.
And then his notes.
Oliver studying? The world had ended. Voldemort was back. There were spies amongst them.
A third year giggled in the distance and Percy realised he'd been stood stock still in the middle of the library, eyeing up the hottest boy in the school for a good few minutes at least.
He scampered towards the seat and fanned his face in an attempt to hide his blush.
Percy tried to catch Olivers eye again, but he was utterly absorbed in his transformation homework. Percy scowled at the scrappy curl of parchment as though it had killed his family and laughed at his socks. Percy flicked a ball of paper at Olivers head, it bounced off and the boy stilled.
Percys heart soared.
Oliver bit the tip of his quill and scratched out another sentence.
Percys stomache shivered and opened up.
He felt so impossibly empty that he figured the earth could swallow him whole and throw him to a pit of ravenous Basalisks and his mood would improve.
Percy clenched his fist around his quill and wrote qn exrention on his charms essay, he spent half the time staring longingly at Oliver.
His hair was still lavender, his eyes darted back and forth over the parchment, and his quill drooped casually from his mouth.
Percy had the familiar urge to kiss him.
His whole body ached for a time before he had ruined them. His heart crumpled to dust. His mind was in tatters. How could he focus on charms when his best friend wouldn't meet his eye?
How could he think about working when his body was instructing him to sleep. To sleep and sleep and sleep.
To wait for the bad to be over, the fight to be done. To wait for the world to burn or darkness reign.
To fall asleep and never wake up.
Percy's knee jolted against the table so violently that he hissed in pain. Oliver glanced up, worried, then. But Percy fled so suddenly that there was no time to fix himself and Oliver. No time to correct their mistakes.
He sank against a wall in the castle, hands wrapped over his head and face tucked between his knees.
He wanted Oliver to appear and make it all better. He wanted to stop hurting, but he didn't want to stop. He didn't want everything to end forever. He might have thought it, but it was just a thought. Just one.
It didn't need to be a big deal!
But it was, because Percy felt bleak and empty. Maybe he was heartbroken or depressed, but...
But he deserved that. Desperately. He deserved to feel lost without Oliver, because he had told Oliver so many times that he had found Percy.
And he had untethered himself from Olivers dock, where the water was warm and calm, and Percy was drifting into the sea. Towards a whirlpool. His ship was sinking. He was a sailor, but he couldn't swim. He couldn't swim. He couldn't swim.
His thoughts whizzed around his head, faster than the twins' stupid Molly-wheele firework.
He stopped thinking the words, they just sat their, growing fat and ugly, turning liquid and grey.
He didn't want to dissapear.
He wanted to travel to a time where he was happy, he wanted to go back to Oliver. The old Oliver who poked him when they studdied and laughed at his stupid jokes.
***
Percy felt himself shiver violently again, so he stood up, and pushed his chair closer to the fire. He wasn't ill, he assured himself, he was doing swimmingly, his plan of talk-to-Oliver had fallen through the roof, and then through about a hundred different floors, and landed in a broken and bruised mess on the floor of the basement.
He was fine.
But he missed Oliver. Like hell. He missed Oliver more than the shortbread biscuits that still avoided him at dinner, more than being happy and the feeling of laughter in his chest. More than all of that, he missed Oliver.
Oliver was this star in the sky that Percys telescope had focused on.
And then Olivers light had gone out and Percy knew that he was light years away. That maybe that light had gone out eons ago.
But that didn't matter.
Percy clenched his eyes shut and fought the tears that threatened to strip his face of dignity, and curled himself up around the covers off his book.
A small warmth coated him, and it took Percy way to long to notice somone had draped a blanket over him.
He felt a tear slip down his cheek.
"Don't cry, Perce", Oliver whispered,"Percy... don't..."
Percy looked up at him,"O-Oliver?"
Oliver smiled, but his lips turned down at the corners, and Percy saw that he, too, was trying to hold himself together.
"I-"
"I'm sorry!", Percy burst,"I don't care that you like boys! I'm sorry I was mean when you said you liked me and I'm sorry that I couldn't explain it and I'm sorry that I turned your hair purple and stole your soap- I- I'm sorry I wasn't good enough to be your friend"
Oliver reached out and wiped Percys tears away,"You are my friend, Perce. Or... you were before I messed everything up", he frowned thoughtfully for a moment before going on,"I'm sorry that you were mean, too. But I shouldn't have been so petty. I know you weren't really disgusted with me but I acted childishly anyway. Don't apologise for the hair."
"Why not?"
Oliver touched his hair protectively,"I've grown quite fond of it"
Percy smiled sadly,"I'm sorry you don't want to be friends anymore"
Oliver tucked his hand against Percys jaw, and scraped his thumb over his cheek,"I didn't say that"
Percys eyelids drooped, and Oliver wanted to keep him awake.
"Are you coming to bed?"
Percy considerd this,"Will I need to get up"
"Yes"
"I'm good here, thank you"
Oliver swept Percy into his arms and carried him to their room, he kissed Percys forhead,"Night, idiot"
"Jackass", Percy muttered sleepily, already half asleep.
***
In the morning, Percy wouldn't stop worrying his lip between his teeth,"Oliver?", he said, sitting up in bed, woth his blankets draped around his body making him look like a god,"Oliver, wake up! I never- I never said it back"
"What?", Oliver groaned,"Lemme sleep..."
Percy poked him,"I love you too!"
Oliver stared up at him with a deadpan face,"No! Really!"
"You're supposed to be surprised!"
"Colour me shocked", Oliver said, rolling over and snuggling below his covers.
"I- But! Oliver!"
"I knew. Alright? I knew you liked me back, gods sake, you never stopped fecking staring at me. I was mad because you wouldn't admit it. I didn't think you were such a coward"
Percy froze, there was that word again. Coward. He was, wasn't he? Some broken kid who couldn't even be sorted right...
"But turns out you were the braver of us both, huh?"
"What?"
Oliver grinned,"You could say love where I could only say like. You where completely honest where I was only half. You're brilliant, Percy. I'd be a fool not to love you back."
"That's not reassuring, Oliver. You're quite high on the list of hogwarts idiots"
Oliver smiled,"Shut up and kiss me, dimwit"
Percy laughed.
Ever the follower of ruled, he stood diligently, and did as he was told.