Something I wrote awhile back...
in answer to a challenge at the Cookie Jar for Percy/Hermione at FictionAlley.
Percy and the Leather Trousers
Author: Quin Firefrorefiddle
Disclaimer: I own neither of the characters mentioned herein and am not making any money off this story. Have a wonderful day!
“Er… Hermione, really, you don’t need to-“
“Oh, come on, Percy! Let me see! They’re just trousers!”
“Just leather trousers!” He shouted that bit, and Hermione giggled at the people who were now staring at them.
She kept fighting with him for control of the door to the dressing room and whispered, “It isn’t like I haven’t seen what you keep under them, after all.”
It worked! He blushed so hard he stopped fighting to keep the door closed and she flung it open, triumphant.
And goggled. And stared openmouthed. And gazed. And smirked, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. It was like staring at a car wreck, only this was much less messy and incredibly attractive.
Percy in nothing but an undershirt and a pair of tight, black leather trousers is not a sight to be laughed at, or sneered at. It is simply to be smirked and stared at, as Hermione now knew.
“Percy, trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
He blushed again. And she whipped out her camera and snapped off a few photos, barely getting the second before he slammed the door shut.
“Hermione!”
“But dear, we needed a new photo for the Christmas cards!”
Percy and the Leather Trousers
Author: Quin Firefrorefiddle
Disclaimer: I own neither of the characters mentioned herein and am not making any money off this story. Have a wonderful day!
“Er… Hermione, really, you don’t need to-“
“Oh, come on, Percy! Let me see! They’re just trousers!”
“Just leather trousers!” He shouted that bit, and Hermione giggled at the people who were now staring at them.
She kept fighting with him for control of the door to the dressing room and whispered, “It isn’t like I haven’t seen what you keep under them, after all.”
It worked! He blushed so hard he stopped fighting to keep the door closed and she flung it open, triumphant.
And goggled. And stared openmouthed. And gazed. And smirked, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. It was like staring at a car wreck, only this was much less messy and incredibly attractive.
Percy in nothing but an undershirt and a pair of tight, black leather trousers is not a sight to be laughed at, or sneered at. It is simply to be smirked and stared at, as Hermione now knew.
“Percy, trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
He blushed again. And she whipped out her camera and snapped off a few photos, barely getting the second before he slammed the door shut.
“Hermione!”
“But dear, we needed a new photo for the Christmas cards!”