Drabble: So Cold
Title: So Cold
Author: hellusbellus
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/characters: Percy/Oliver!unrequited
Warnings: A few dub-con kisses, angst
Word Count: ~650 words
Summary: Oliver wishes for just one kiss, and Percy wishes he could just give it to him.
Notes: I'm a die-hard Percy/Oliver shipper (my OTP, in fact), so I wanted to write a fic where they don't end up together for valid reasons. I dunno, guess I'm a masochist.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
*
Oliver's fist slammed into the wall near Percy's ear. Percy closed his eyes.
Oliver's other hand was clutching the knot of Percy's tie, pulling at his neck. Percy could feel Oliver's hand trembling against his throat; his arm trembling against Percy's chest; his hips trembling against Percy's hips. I feel small, Percy observed, but had no reaction to the thought. Oliver was the one who was shaking. Oliver was the one who was panting.
The fist by his head jerked, flattening against the wall. A helpless sound escaped Oliver's lips. His fingertips curled into the stone.
“Please,” Oliver whispered, and he kissed Percy again- lips soft, breath loud.
“Please, Percy.” The hand from the wall stroked Percy's hair. So gentle, Percy thought, and wished that it would melt him. It didn't. “Look at me.” Percy opened his eyes.
Desire. A brutal thing, Percy judged, studying the strained lines of Oliver's expression, feeling the over-gentle stroking of his fingers. That should have meant something to him, Percy was sure, but all he could think was that it explained the trembling. Restraint, Percy thought. Maybe fear.
I should be the one who's afraid. Oliver was near double Percy's weight and just as tall. Whatever he wanted, Percy realized, Oliver could take. I should be afraid, he thought again, but he wasn't. Or disgusted? But he wasn't that either. Oliver's touches were solid, like the stone wall Percy leaned against, but empty -- neither disgusting nor enticing. Devoid. I wish I was afraid.
“Once. So I can forget about it.” Oliver's voice was shaking as badly as his hands. Does he even know what he's saying? Percy wondered, watching Oliver's eyes, studying the furrow in his brow. He looked so lost. That should make me sad.
Oliver kissed him again, a blank touch, and Percy didn't move.
“Just one kiss. Please, please, please...” Each plea he punctuated with a press of lips. Percy felt heavy. Oliver's eyes were filling with tears. His fingers combed through red hair, a pace so frantic, Percy was certain it was an unconscious gesture. Oliver was disintegrating, right there, right there against his chest, Oliver Wood was falling apart. He felt Oliver's lips press against him again- warm and numb at once.
“Oliver,” said Percy, “get off me.”
Liquid eyes slid shut, and Oliver bowed his head, hair falling forward to hide his face. Percy's tie tightened as Oliver's fingers clutched, almost cutting off Percy's air. He knew he should panic, but the panic didn't come. Percy wanted to scream, but he had nothing to say.
Then Oliver's hands disappeared, and his arms disappeared, and his hips disappeared. His heat lifted away. He spun and strode down the corridor. I wonder if he's still crying.
Percy leaned against the castle wall. He waited. It'll come, he assured himself, the chill of the stone seeped through his clothing. The grief would strike him squarely in the heart, he thought. Perhaps he'd feel guilty for what he'd done to his friend. Perhaps he'd trace the lips Oliver had kissed so many times, and he'd feel some blush of passion -- some hint of longing.
He sank down, hugging his knees; he leaned his head against the wall. Oliver's eyes glowed in his mind. For a long time he sat that way, and when he fell asleep, he dreamed of an ocean. Dark waters crested in white, crashed and swirled, charged and receded. When he woke up, his body ached and he was shivering. He barely made it to his first class on time.
The feelings never came.
*
Author: hellusbellus
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/characters: Percy/Oliver!unrequited
Warnings: A few dub-con kisses, angst
Word Count: ~650 words
Summary: Oliver wishes for just one kiss, and Percy wishes he could just give it to him.
Notes: I'm a die-hard Percy/Oliver shipper (my OTP, in fact), so I wanted to write a fic where they don't end up together for valid reasons. I dunno, guess I'm a masochist.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
*
Oliver's fist slammed into the wall near Percy's ear. Percy closed his eyes.
Oliver's other hand was clutching the knot of Percy's tie, pulling at his neck. Percy could feel Oliver's hand trembling against his throat; his arm trembling against Percy's chest; his hips trembling against Percy's hips. I feel small, Percy observed, but had no reaction to the thought. Oliver was the one who was shaking. Oliver was the one who was panting.
The fist by his head jerked, flattening against the wall. A helpless sound escaped Oliver's lips. His fingertips curled into the stone.
“Please,” Oliver whispered, and he kissed Percy again- lips soft, breath loud.
“Please, Percy.” The hand from the wall stroked Percy's hair. So gentle, Percy thought, and wished that it would melt him. It didn't. “Look at me.” Percy opened his eyes.
Desire. A brutal thing, Percy judged, studying the strained lines of Oliver's expression, feeling the over-gentle stroking of his fingers. That should have meant something to him, Percy was sure, but all he could think was that it explained the trembling. Restraint, Percy thought. Maybe fear.
I should be the one who's afraid. Oliver was near double Percy's weight and just as tall. Whatever he wanted, Percy realized, Oliver could take. I should be afraid, he thought again, but he wasn't. Or disgusted? But he wasn't that either. Oliver's touches were solid, like the stone wall Percy leaned against, but empty -- neither disgusting nor enticing. Devoid. I wish I was afraid.
“Once. So I can forget about it.” Oliver's voice was shaking as badly as his hands. Does he even know what he's saying? Percy wondered, watching Oliver's eyes, studying the furrow in his brow. He looked so lost. That should make me sad.
Oliver kissed him again, a blank touch, and Percy didn't move.
“Just one kiss. Please, please, please...” Each plea he punctuated with a press of lips. Percy felt heavy. Oliver's eyes were filling with tears. His fingers combed through red hair, a pace so frantic, Percy was certain it was an unconscious gesture. Oliver was disintegrating, right there, right there against his chest, Oliver Wood was falling apart. He felt Oliver's lips press against him again- warm and numb at once.
“Oliver,” said Percy, “get off me.”
Liquid eyes slid shut, and Oliver bowed his head, hair falling forward to hide his face. Percy's tie tightened as Oliver's fingers clutched, almost cutting off Percy's air. He knew he should panic, but the panic didn't come. Percy wanted to scream, but he had nothing to say.
Then Oliver's hands disappeared, and his arms disappeared, and his hips disappeared. His heat lifted away. He spun and strode down the corridor. I wonder if he's still crying.
Percy leaned against the castle wall. He waited. It'll come, he assured himself, the chill of the stone seeped through his clothing. The grief would strike him squarely in the heart, he thought. Perhaps he'd feel guilty for what he'd done to his friend. Perhaps he'd trace the lips Oliver had kissed so many times, and he'd feel some blush of passion -- some hint of longing.
He sank down, hugging his knees; he leaned his head against the wall. Oliver's eyes glowed in his mind. For a long time he sat that way, and when he fell asleep, he dreamed of an ocean. Dark waters crested in white, crashed and swirled, charged and receded. When he woke up, his body ached and he was shivering. He barely made it to his first class on time.
The feelings never came.
*