Chapter Text
Everywhere he went, the heads of his fellow students whipped his way very quickly as Percy Weasley stormed through the halls of Hogwarts, but he was far too furious to notice. He didn't even register Ron's teasing remark as he swept past him, Harry and Hermione, lingering in one of the corridors. Usually, Percy would have stopped to interrogate them on what they were up to and to remind them not to do anything rash like breaking any more of the school rules than they already had. But today was not the day.
Today was not his day. Percy was willing to admit that he had very few days that did actually feel like the universe was on his side, but it was on only very rare occasions where he felt like some unseen force was actively working against him. Today was one of those days. Percy was just coming from Potions, which he disliked at the best of times, despite always achieving good grades. But today they had been brewing Amortentia, and Percy had been paired with Marcus bloody Flint, of all people. And right at the end of class, Flint had 'accidentally' tipped their full cauldron, spilling the perfect potion all over Percy.
Percy ground his teeth as he recalled the innocence on Flint's face as he'd shrugged and simply said 'oops'. He had been slightly appeased when Snape had deducted 20 points from his own house due to Flint's carelessness, but his smugness had only lasted until Snape had told him to take the rest of the day off to avoid causing a riot when other students smelled their own Amortentia scents on him. Percy had wanted to protest, but he was wet, and sticky, and absolutely drowning in the scents of stormy skies and sea salt and ... and Quidditch leathers. He knew what it meant, and it did nothing to improve his temper. Hence the slightly stomp-y nature of his walk back up to the dormitories to spend a few hours scrubbing himself clean.
Percy made it to his dorm without incident, and breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed the door open. The sigh soon stuck in his throat as he realised that the dorm was, in fact, occupied. And by none other than the last person he wanted to see right now. His jaw clenched as Oliver Wood's hazel eyes raised from what looked like the mapping out an intricate Quidditch play. Oliver had initially taken the news of this year's suspension of Quidditch very hard, and had spent days sulking around their dorm room, dragging himself to and from classes and glowering sullenly at everyone. Thankfully, his mood had improved an awful lot in the past month, and he'd instead committed most of his free time to planning out new flying patterns for whenever the team could get back in the air. The rest of the time, he was pestering Percy.
Percy had very mixed feelings about Oliver Wood. They had always been civil with one another, and Percy might have even said that they were friends for a while. But something had changed this year, and Oliver had suddenly started teasing Percy. Quite relentlessly, at that. It seemed that wherever Percy went, Oliver would either turn up soon after or somehow meet him along the way. And every time, Oliver would make some comment or other that would get right under Percy's skin. Percy had tried not to bite back, he really had. But he'd been confused and a little disappointed by this turn of events.
He'd always admired Oliver for his dedication, even if it was in a direction that Percy didn't approve of. But it seemed that Oliver had decided to put this dedication into harassing Percy, and unfortunately he was bloody good at it. More often than not, Percy would find himself blushing and flustered, crowded against a wall or a desk or a bookshelf, with Oliver leaning over him and baiting him into an argument. And at some point along the way, Percy had had the sickening epiphany that he found Oliver Wood very attractive.
It had made Oliver's behaviour even harder to ignore, and every time he walked away, leaving Percy a shaking mess behind him, Percy became more and more confused about what Oliver's intentions behind these interactions were. He'd immediately ruled out any possibility that it could mean anything romantic, or even sexual, because, well, look at him. Hell would be long frozen over before Oliver Wood, toned and fit and with a constant entourage of hopeful women trailing him around the castle, would even think to look at scrawny, bookish and frankly quite boring Percy Weasley that way.
Which left the more gutting prospect that Oliver was just doing these things because he didn't like Percy, and having found a way to effectively wrong-foot him, was exploiting this. Try as he might, though, Percy just couldn't figure out his end goal. None of that mattered right now anyway, as he glared at Oliver from the dormitory doorway.
'Weasley.' Oliver's greeting was so casual that it made Percy feel itchy. Oliver never called him by his first name these days, but he somehow still made the surname sound like a caress, and it always danced over Percy's skin in a way that left him a little light-headed.
'What are you doing in here?' Percy spluttered, too distracted and frustrated to think properly before he spoke. He mentally slapped his own forehead when Oliver smirked. He knew that the Quidditch Captain had dropped Potions as soon as he'd been able, and therefore had a free period at this time. It made his question redundant, and easily opened him up for ridicule.
'In case you hadn't noticed, I've been sharing this room with you for the past 5 years.' The boy wiggled his dark eyebrows at Percy, and Percy's fraying temper snapped. The concentrated scent of Oliver Wood had been slowly choking him, and he knew that Oliver would probably smell the object of his own desires on Percy and laugh at him further for it. But part of the problem he had with Oliver was that he could never back down from a fight with him, and today was no exception. Percy slammed the door behind him and marched forwards, finger raised and snarling. In his anger, he completely missed how Oliver sat bolt upright on his bed.
'Do not start with me right now, Wood, I am in no mood to -' Percy's breath punched out of him as his back hit the wall behind him. He tried to suck another breath in, but then Oliver was just there, crowding against him, his toned body pressing hard against Percy's lithe form. Percy swallowed an embarrassing moan that bubbled up his throat at their proximity. In all the times they'd hissed at each other in corridors or the library or empty classrooms, Oliver had never touched him like this before.
Percy frowned at the boy, but his angry reprimand died on his tongue when he caught sight of the Quidditch Captain's face. Oliver's teeth were bared in a silent snarl, and very little of his brown irises could be seen with how wide his pupils had blown. Percy's mouth was suddenly very dry, and he found that he was shaking. He felt a strange impulse to run, to get away, but Oliver's hands were braced against the wall, bracketing his head, and anyway, where would he go in this room that Oliver couldn't just follow him?
'Godric, you ...' Oliver's brogue had thickened in a way that had Percy's toes curling in his sensible black shoes. But he soon found that it had nothing on how it felt to have the muscular boy dip his head and run his nose up the column of Percy's throat. He repressed a shudder as Oliver's mouth reached his ear and he all but growled, 'You smell like sex, Weasley. How is that even possible?' Despite his confusion, and growing arousal, Percy's mouth fell open at the question, his anger returning quickly.
'What, do I just have a reputation as a prude, or something?' he snapped. 'Is it honestly that unbelievable that I could have been intimate with someone?'
'No, that's not -' Wood gritted his teeth, and oh, there was something about what Percy had said that the other boy really didn't like. He shook his head like he was trying to clear it, and frowned at Percy. 'You smell like you, but very intensely, like you might when you're ...' Percy held his breath as Oliver slowly let his own out, clearly trying to gather himself. There was a shadow of the previous smirk on his face again when he said, 'What did you do, eh? Empty your whole bottle of cologne on yourself this morning, or something?'
Percy felt his mouth fall open as he turned Oliver's words over and over in his head. He smelled like himself? But then that would mean ... And that would just be impossible ... Right? A nagging curiosity rose in the back if his mind, and Percy's tongue flicked out over his lips to try and moisten them. Oliver's eyes instantly latched onto his mouth, and Percy could have sworn the boy rolled his hips against him slightly. He bit back another humiliating noise to ask, 'What ... What do I smell like?'
'Like coffee and sugar quills and ink,' Oliver responded, so promptly that it made Percy's head spin. Oh. Oh, wow. Wait. No, Percy reminded himself, it had to be a coincidence. There were plenty of other students who drank just as much coffee as he did, who used the instant boost of sugar quills to get through a difficult study session. Oliver's strange behaviour could be explained away by the concentrated potion still coating Percy's skin, this didn't mean anything. It didn't mean anything.
'Oliver,' Percy murmured, and Oliver's eyes rose to his once more, widening in mild surprise at the rare use of his first name. Percy breathed in, then realised his mistake as Oliver's scent flooded his nostrils again. He ground his jaw and gritted out, 'I ... I think you should back up. Flint managed to spill of full cauldron of Amortentia on me. You know, the love potion?' Percy saw the flash of panic on Oliver's face, and he sagged. He'd known it was too good to be true, and yet ... He mumbled, 'Sorry about this. If you'll just let me go shower, I won't tell anyone about this, I swear.'
There was silence for a while, and Percy could feel Oliver's eyes on him, but he couldn't meet them. He didn't want to see the disgust there when the Captain came back to himself, when he understood that Percy just smelled very strongly of the person he was attracted to. Percy wondered glumly how this would affect their new dynamic. It could worsen the bullying. It could also mean that Oliver would just stop seeking him out entirely. Percy didn't want to consider which of those he thought might be worse.
'Ah, what the hell,' Oliver finally murmured, leaning away slightly, and Percy's chest felt like it would cave in at the loss of that closeness, that warmth. He was about to apologise again when Oliver added, 'If the cat's out of the bag anyway.' His fingers were under Percy's chin, tilting his head back, and Percy was forced to look into Oliver's eyes. Percy was surprised to see an unfamiliar emotion on the boy's chiselled features. Was Oliver Wood ... nervous? The sheepish grin he gave Percy further added to this assumption, but his voice was steady as he said, 'I like you, Percy.'
'You ...' Percy's skin burned at the way Oliver said his name. Gods, he'd imagined the way it would sound for so long, using faded memories of their early years, when Oliver had called him by his first name frequently, to fuel his fire when he was alone at night and his hands wandered over his own body. But his conjured thoughts didn't even compare to the real thing. It wasn't helping the fog in Percy's brain as he tried to sort out what was happening. 'You like me?'
'Well, yes,' Oliver said, amused. His fingers skittered along Percy's jaw, and Percy's heart damn near stopped. 'I had thought I'd been making that obvious, with how I've been seeking you out. Even when you didn't respond or take things further, I still couldn't stop myself from wanting to be near you, goading you into fights because I knew that it would make you stop and talk to me.' Oliver swallowed hard, and Percy could see the effort it took for him to remove his hand from Percy's face. He tried not to whimper at the loss of contact as Oliver straightened. 'Anyway. Now you know. I'm just sorry it had to come out this way.'
Oliver started to back up, and something inside Percy snapped at the idea that he might miss this chance. It could be his only one, ever, and he would forever curse himself if he was stupid enough not to act. So he reached out and grabbed the front of Oliver's shirt. Oliver's eyebrows rose, and Percy blurted, 'Ask me what I smell.'
'What do you -'
'The potion,' Percy interjected, indicating to himself vaguely. 'Ask ... Ask me what I smell.'
'Alright,' Oliver said slowly, eyeing him cautiously. 'What do you smell, Percy?'
'I smell stormy skies and sea salt and ...' Percy closed his eyes, then breathed, 'And Quidditch leathers.' He peeked at Oliver, who was staring at him. When he didn't say anything, Percy kept talking. 'I know that sounds quite generic, but it's actually very specific. The storms and the salt remind me of a holiday my family and I took to Scotland when I was younger, and I spent my days on the sea shore and watching thunderstorms, it's one of my favourite memories. And the Quidditch leathers, it doesn't smell like the ones my brothers might wear. It smells just like yours do, when you come in from a really hard practice and you're all sweaty and oh, Merlin, am I saying this out loud -'
Mercifully, Percy could say no more. He was saved from entirely baring his soul by Oliver's lips crushing against his. And this time, Percy couldn't hold back the breathy sound he made as his arms flew up to wrap around Oliver's neck, pulling the boy closer and deepening the kiss. Oliver groaned as he slid his tongue along the seam of Percy's lips, and Percy opened his mouth immediately. Oliver grunted in surprise when Percy sucked on his tongue, and his hips bucked against Percy in a way that told him the Captain had liked it, so he did it again. Oliver let out a slightly feral noise, and his hands slid down from Percy's hips to the backs of his thighs.
He yanked, and Percy went with him, allowing Oliver to spread his legs and wrap them around his own waist. They were around the same height, but Oliver carried Percy's lean frame like he weighed nothing at all, and Percy outright swooned. He'd known Oliver was muscular from all of that Quidditch, but this clear display of his strength made Percy dizzy. He craned his neck to latch onto Oliver's throat, and the resulting growl reverberated through his skin to Percy's lips, spurring him on. He vaguely registered that they were moving, and reluctantly pulled away.
'Wait,' he breathed, and Oliver instantly froze. Percy allowed himself a small smile at this, at the understanding that Oliver would stop the moment he asked. But he didn't want to stop, he just didn't want to make a mess of one of their beds. 'I need to get my robes off.'
'Aye?' Oliver asked wryly, cocking one eyebrow, and Percy rolled his eyes.
'The potion, Oliver,' he said pointedly, and Oliver laughed.
'Ah, yeah. Forgot about that for some reason.' He gently lowered Percy back to his feet, but before Percy could reach for the clasp on his robes, Oliver's thick fingers were there. Percy gulped as Oliver began to undress him, his broad hands sweeping up over Percy's chest and shoulders to push the robes down and off. They fell to the floor, and Oliver kicked them away before he leaned in to sniff at Percy. 'Think you got some on your shirt, too.'
'It'll have to come off then,' Percy said shakily, and Oliver nodded, his eyes never leaving Percy's as, torturously slow, he unbuttoned Percy's shirt. Percy shivered when Oliver's hands slid inside the material and followed the same path as before, his touch igniting every nerve ending in Percy's body. Feeling emboldened by the heat in Oliver's gaze, Percy reached for the other boy's shirt. 'Think you might have got some on you, too. You know, from my robes.'
'Think you're right,' Oliver agreed, his voice sounding a little strained as Percy deftly attacked his buttons. Soon both were bare to their waists, breathing hard and staring into each other's eyes. Then Oliver reached out and pushed Percy's shoulders. Percy squawked as he fell back, bouncing on Oliver's bed, but the sound changed into something else when Oliver followed, one of his knees digging into the mattress between Percy's thighs as he crawled after him. Percy watched as the Captain finally broke eye contact to survey Percy's body, then stilled above him. 'Shit, Percy. The freckles ...'
'Oh. Sorry,' Percy mumbled, instantly self-conscious. He raised his arms to cross them over his chest in a vain attempt to cover himself. He hated every single one of his many, many freckles. He thought that they made his already weak and weedy-looking body seem even worse, and he'd always been careful about not showering in front of his classmates because of it.
'No!' Oliver yelped, grabbing Percy's wrists and pulling them away again, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. Percy blinked up at him, truly confused now. Oliver blushed and gave him a furtive grin as he confessed, 'I ... Well, for a while I've had this, ah, fantasy, I suppose, about what it would be like to kiss or lick every single one of your freckles.' His eyes skated over Percy's torso again, and he laughed softly. 'Looks like I'd have to lick every inch of you from head to toe.'
'I wouldn't be averse to that,' Percy breathed, then flushed when Oliver's eyes widened again. Oh Gods, why did he just keep saying these things out loud? Percy was about to mumble an apology when Oliver tipped his head back and roared with laughter. Percy smiled broadly at the sound, so genuine and full, and Oliver was still chuckling when he dipped his head to nuzzle at Percy's neck, his lips buzzing against his throat.
'Noted,' Oliver said when he'd finally stopped laughing, and Percy sucked in a breath when those lips pressed more firmly to his skin. They moved against him, raising goosebumps in their wake. 'Maybe not today though, eh? Maybe I'll make a start and see how far I get, and then pick it up again next time.'
'Next time?' Percy whispered dazedly, and felt Oliver's lips curl up in a smile.
'Aye, next time. I don't want this to be a one time thing.' Oliver pulled back and stared down at him, his face suddenly serious. 'I want to give this a proper go. If you'll have me, of course?'
'Of course,' Percy responded reflexively, and felt his flush creep onto his chest when Oliver gave him a brilliant grin. Percy was starting to feel very hot, with Oliver's body covering his and his hands covering Percy's wrists. He really needed something more to happen, and soon, or he might just burst into flames. So Percy cleared his throat in an attempt to focus, and prompted, 'Where would you start? With the, um, freckles, I mean.'
'Hmm,' Oliver mused, his eyes darkening slightly as he contemplated Percy's bare torso. 'I think I'll start right here.' He leaned forward, and Percy gasped at the feeling of his tongue, hot and wet and slick, running over a spot just under his left ear. He shuddered as the sensation caused lust to course through him, and Oliver's chuckle was a dark, twisted thing as he purred in Percy's ear, 'Always wanted to know what that one tastes like. It's a very distracting freckle, really. Always catching my attention at the worst possible moments.'
'Oh,' Percy squeaked. He didn't really know what else to say. But he said 'oh' again when Oliver lapped at that spot one more time, and then hummed his approval.
'Doesn't disappoint,' he murmured, then nipped at Percy's earlobe. 'Though I think I prefer how you react to me doing it more than the actual taste itself.'
At Oliver's words, Percy became very aware that he had been rocking his hips against Oliver's thigh, pressing his erection into the solid muscle in a desperate attempt to seek some much-needed friction. His blush deepened once again, and he wanted the world to swallow him up. He stilled his hips, all too aware that his actions were no better than that of a dog, humping up against furniture or his master's leg in a mindless search for relief.
'Gods, I didn't mean for you to stop,' Oliver grunted, swiftly pulling Percy's wrists up over his head to transfer them both into one huge, rough hand, while his other slid down Percy's side to grip his hip. He pulled, encouraging Percy to roll against him again, and Percy tentatively pressed his hips forward. Oliver groaned, and then he was kissing Percy deeply, hungrily, and Percy whimpered into his mouth at the ferocity of it. His hips started to move faster, and Oliver broke away, his lips sliding against Percy's as he murmured, 'That's it, come on, Baby. Merlin, that feels so good, having you get off on my thigh.'
'Oliver,' Percy murmured, closing his eyes as the tension inside him built and built. He started to press down harder. He was almost there, could almost taste the release -
'Fuck.' Oliver's hand abruptly pinned his hip to the bed, and Percy whined in frustration as his orgasm was robbed from him. Oliver at least sounded apologetic when he panted, 'Sorry, Perce, got a little bit lost there. Didn't want this to end too soon.' Percy peeked one eye open to glance up, and realised that Oliver had been watching him closely, the hunger just as evident on his face as it had been in his kisses. Oliver licked his lips, then rumbled, 'Gods, I really want to know what it's like to be inside you when you cum.'
Percy's mind went entirely blank, and all he could do was gape up at Oliver, slack-jawed. He nearly came there and then, just from hearing the other boy say such things. Unfortunately, Oliver misinterpreted his silence, and his brow furrowed.
'Unless you were hoping it would be the other way around?' It took Percy a moment to catch on.
'Oh. Oh! No! I mean, unless that's what you want? I always p-pictured it being ... But I'd be more than happy to ...' He gave up, and huffed, 'Bollocks.'
'I love it when you get all flustered,' Oliver crooned, and Percy would have glared at him if it weren't for the feeling of the Captain's shaft pulsing against his hip bone through their trousers, providing clear evidence to back up his words. Percy's breath hitched when Oliver added with a wink, 'If it helps, I've always pictured me fucking you, too.'
'Right,' Percy said, his voice annoyingly and uncontrollably high-pitched. 'Right. OK.'
'We don't have to do that today, though,' Oliver murmured, rubbing soothing circles into Percy's hip, as if he'd sensed his tension increasing. 'If you're not ready, that's OK.' Then his hazel eyes twinkled with mischief, and Percy felt apprehensive all over again. 'I can think of plenty other things that I've wanted to do to you for a very long time now that can keep us entertained.'
'L-like what?' Percy stammered. Oliver leaned over him again, his hand pushing Percy's captive wrists harder into the mattress, and Percy's mouth went dry once more, eyes rolling in his head slightly. Oliver grinned.
'Like sucking your cock until you cum in my mouth so that I can taste you,' he drawled, and Percy nearly choked on his own tongue at the mere thought. Oliver dipped his head to kiss Percy's flushed sternum, then looked up at him through his thick, dark lashes. 'May I?'
'Please,' Percy whispered, and Oliver nipped at his collarbone before sitting up slightly.
'Keep those hands right there, Weasley,' he said, that natural Quidditch Captain command bleeding easily into his tone, and Percy bit into his lower lip hard to stop himself from instinctively disobeying an order from Oliver Wood. He managed to nod, and when Oliver released his wrists, he made a conscious effort not to move a muscle. Oliver smirked knowingly, then lowered his head to nip and lap at Percy's chest. He made his way slowly down Percy's body, nibbling at sensitive spots over his ribs, twirling his tongue over peaked nipples, sucking bruises over his hip bones, and generally just taking Percy apart with his mouth.
Oliver made short work of Percy's fly, popping the button and tugging at the zipper in a practised fashion. He wrapped his fingers around the waistband of both his trousers and his underwear, then paused to look back up at Percy. His gaze was heated, but he appeared to be waiting for something, and after a heartbeat Percy realised that it was for permission. Percy nodded again, and Oliver smiled before returning to his task.
As he slid Percy's trousers and boxers down over his narrow hips, Oliver meticulously licked and laved at every newly exposed piece of flesh, but his tongue never landed quite where it was most needed. At one point, a very frustrated Percy subconsciously bucked his hips up, trying to direct Oliver's attentions. Oliver shot him a sharp, reprimanding look, and Percy instantly stilled and let Oliver continue his exploration uninterrupted, all the while keeping his hands firmly above his head. After an agonising amount of teasing, Oliver finally pulled the remainder of his clothes all the way down, and Percy's painfully hard cock sprang free.
'Well, fuck me,' Oliver whistled appreciatively, and Percy closed his eyes in embarrassment. 'Wasn't expecting you to be fucking hung, Weasley.'
'I -' Percy cut himself off with a whine as Oliver's lips wrapped around his tip. Stars burst in his vision, and he dug his nails into his own arms, trying to ground himself with the pain, trying not to cum in the same second that Oliver touched him. Oliver slowly worked him into his mouth, his tongue pressing against Percy's shaft in a way that made him squirm from the flames of need that licked up his spine. When he'd taken as much in as he could, Oliver wrapped his callused hand around the rest of Percy's length, gripping and squeezing it and making Percy sweat. He nearly cried out in protest when Oliver abruptly popped off him.
'You can move your hands now, Percy,' Oliver said, and Percy's arms instantly flew out to either side of him, gripping the bed-sheets tight in his fists. He felt rather than heard Oliver's chuckle, and writhed as Oliver returned to sucking hard at his tip, making Percy's back arch from the bed. Oliver was slow and methodical in the way that he handled Percy's cock, as though he was trying things out to see what reactions he could pull from the boy underneath him.
But really, everything that Oliver was doing was mind-numbingly pleasurable, and it didn't take long before Percy was struggling to hold back. He nearly lost the tight grip he had on his restraint when he looked down and, between one bob of Oliver's head and the next, he saw that the Captain had managed to pull his own stiff cock free of his trousers and was furiously stroking it, the head of it already slick with pre-cum. Oliver seemed to feel Percy's gaze on him, as he released Percy from his mouth to grin up at him, wrapping his fingers more deftly around his length.
'Come on, Baby,' Oliver murmured, and Percy's hips thrust up involuntarily. Oliver mouthed at his hip, his pupils expanding as he watched Percy fall apart under his ministrations. 'Let me see you cum, I've wanted to know what it's like for years. Gods, you look so fucking good like this, Percy, all hot and bothered and begging for me. Come on, be a good boy and cum for me so that I can taste you.'
'Fuck, Ollie,' Percy whimpered, trying to warn the boy as he felt his release speeding towards him at the steady stream of filth leaving the boy's mouth.
'Oh, I like that,' Oliver rumbled, his grin turning wicked. 'Say it again.'
Percy hesitated for a moment, then reached down, twined the long thin fingers of one hand into Oliver's short hair and breathed, 'Ollie.'
'Shit, Percy, you've just fucking ruined that nickname forever,' Oliver growled, his eyes darkening further and both of his fists picking up speed. 'Whenever anyone calls me that now, I'm always going to hear you saying it like that. It's nigh on fucking sinful.'
Percy couldn't get his mouth to co-operate with his thoughts as the tight band of his release pulled behind his navel, and he tugged at Oliver's hair in silent warning. Oliver instantly sealed his lips around Percy's tip once more, and that was enough. Percy came hard, thrusting up into Oliver's mouth as he spilled on the boy's tongue. He dimly registered a deep moan from the boy kneeling between his legs, and a wet and sticky warmth coated the inside of his thighs, but Percy was flying high, and nothing mattered outside of this feeling.
It took him a while to come back down, and when he finally did, he found his head resting on Oliver's chest, their legs twined together and Oliver's lips pressed to his temple. At some point, Oliver had removed his own trousers, too, and Percy's mind reeled wildly at the knowledge that he was lying in bed with a very naked Oliver Wood. Percy tried to move, breath catching at the unusual straining of his muscles, and Oliver's breath ghosted over his forehead as the boy laughed lightly.
'Easy there, Perce,' Oliver murmured, tightening his arms around the slender boy. 'No rush to be anywhere, eh?'
'Should probably shower,' Percy grumbled, his voice oddly slurred. 'The potion ...'
'I don't really think that's a problem any more, Baby,' Oliver said, the smirk evident in his voice. He wound his fingers through Percy's red curls as he said, 'Think you either sweated it off or we rubbed it off between us. Doesn't really matter now, anyway. Let's just take a nap, yeah?'
''K,' Percy said, his eyelids already closing. He nearly missed Oliver's final comment as he drifted into sleep.
'By the way, Weasley, you taste just as good as you smell.'