#poliver

Teaching him how to play

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My HP fanfics (All perciver atm):

Instead of the whole "oh [character] is annoyed by ____ so I do it to rile them up" trope I give you...

"I remembered how much ____ bothers you so I made sure others stopped doing it"

"I know you don't like to do ____, so it's all done, don't worry about it."

Or, "How did you remember I don't like ____?"

Noticing an overwhelming/uncomfortable situation and saying, "Let's go over here for now, it's calmer"

Or, "Thank you for dealing with ____, I know it pushes you out of your comfort zone."

p e r c y x o l i v e r

Percy and Oliver are excited about moving in together. Some other people, not so much.

AO3

It was a late Sunday evening that found Oliver sitting on his bed, a piece of parchment crumpled between his hands. Percy, on the other side of the room, noticed that he looked particularly disgruntled, his nose twitching in the telltale way it does and his eyes narrowing into a challenge.

“Hey, Ol,” Percy pulled his boyfriend from his reverie by plopping himself in front of him. “What's that from?”

“Just my dad.” Oliver sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he gave a smile that looked like it was crumbling at the edges. “Giving me crap about responsibility when it comes to our relationship. He thinks I'm 'not thinking clearly enough' when it comes to you because we're young and infatuated and apparently that means we're reckless and stupid.”

“Oh.” Percy looked down at his hands. “He's not pleased with the idea of us moving in together, I bet.”

“Yeah, like he's such a fucking expert on relationships.” Oliver glared down at the letter again as if it spoke up.

“He doesn't approve of me?”

The tone in Percy's voice - something terrible, something desperate - made Oliver pause in his anger. “No, beautiful,” he assured him, reaching forward to squeeze Percy's hand. “He shares your love for structure and appreciates your interest in politics. He's just, well, I don't even know. He's so...so...”

“Inscrutable?”

“I was going to say an emotionally stumped bastard who punishes his son for his own former misgivings.”

“Not sure if there's a specific term for that,” Percy scrunched up his nose. Oliver's father - an understating, private, quiet-voiced man - had struck Percy to be a hurricane hidden in a slow-burn armor. Oliver had to get his intensity from somewhere, and he never spent more than a few hours per year with his mom.

“We'll prove to him that this is our most viable option,” said Percy, not wanting to settle for anything less. “After all, we have enough gold in our vaults combined to purchase an apartment in London, and with your Quidditch and my Ministry work, we'll be able to support ourselves. And,” he paused, “we've shared a dorm for seven years, a bed for two. We know each other by now.”

“Ever so practical,” Oliver's lips curled into a fond smile. “You don't want to move in with me for the swooning romance of it all, huh, Weasley?”

Percy didn't let the teasing tone fool him by ignoring Oliver's underlying point. “That, too,” he said softly. “I want to be with you. Kiss you every morning and wear your sweaters that are too big and rest my head on your lap after a shitty day.”

“You already do those things, idiot,” Oliver laughed, a little color returning to the lines of his face. He pulled Percy closer, so that he was sprawled across Oliver's lap.

“I'll just do more of it, then,” he leaned down to press a kiss on Oliver's jaw. Oliver closed his eyes and let out a small moan, encouraging Percy to press hot, wet little kisses against his neck.

“We're going to be fine,” Percy murmured against Oliver's jawline. “Don't let your father discourage you, yeah?”

“It's hard not to. He let my mother go before; he's skeptical of anything to do with love. Even if it comes in the form a stunning, clever redhead with amazing freckles.”

“You're in love with me?” His hands stilled on Oliver's shoulders.

“Perce, that you even have to ask...” His boyfriend sighed. “I've been in love with you since you kneed Flint in the balls when he called me a poof in fifth year.”

“Prig deserved it.” Percy rested his head against Oliver's shoulder. “And you surely know that I love you, too. Somehow.”

“Yeah, figured out that much. With the whole moving in together and meeting your parents thing. Not to mention the mind-blowing sex you demand of me every night.”

“Don't be a wise-ass,” Percy tapped his fingers against his chest. “And speaking of mind-blowing sex, I believe we were just getting into it...”