Challenge #87: Closeted
Title: Logistics
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/none
Characters/Pairing: Oliver Wood/Percy Weasley
Summary: After much spluttering and awkward conversation, Percy and Oliver might finally agree on something.
Word Count: 955
Author's Notes: Written for whitestar_alpha and veilingofthesun both in mind.
Registered purchases?: Both
"Well, uhm, what's your favourite colour then?"
Percy spluttered in the dark. This was a very bad move considering that he was spluttering in the dark, after all, and couldn't aim his splutter. Long story short, he spluttered against one of the walls of the closet and it bounced right back into his face.
"It's blue."
"Oh. Mine's red."
"Nice to know."
The silence stretched out rather horridly after that attempt at a conversation, and Oliver decided to try twiddling his thumbs. He had had no reference of thumb-twiddling and so very nearly managed to entangle his ten digits before giving up on twiddling altogether.
"So, uh, have you finished Potions yet?" Percy said, shifting towards Oliver's general direction. "I've done two and a half feet so far, but I've just found a book that changes my entire perspective on Amortentia, so I'm probably going to redo it."
Oliver didn't really know what to say to that, so he just gave a weak smile and, after realising that Percy was still waiting for an audible reply, emitted a small 'huh'.
"We really are shit at talking, aren't we?" Percy said, after coming to the conclusion that Oliver's 'huh' meant 'I haven't done this Potions essay that you just went on about'.
"Yeah." Oliver sniffed the air and broke out into a grin. "I like this closet though. Smells like broom polish."
"Yeah, yeah, you and your ruddy brooms," Percy muttered sourly. Broom smells always seemed to follow the Weasley boy around, thanks to Oliver being his roommate and his partner in one too many classes. Quidditch smells. Dirty underwear smells. Grass stains. Dirt. Splinters. Merlin, the splinters. (Once, he'd sat on Oliver's bed and had shot up after a tiny sliver of wood had pierced his left butt cheek. Fred and George's taunts about having a stick up his arse had lasted for months.)
"What, don't you think that brooms smell nice?" Oliver asked indignantly. "They smell almost as good as Quaffle leather. Or the Pitch after a rainy day."
Percy sighed. He was not about to get into an argument about broom smells. "I just prefer other scents. Like books. Parchment. Ink. You like brooms. I like ink."
To his surprise, Oliver laughed. "It seems as though we're the most mismatched couple ever to be locked in a closet, doesn't it?"
Percy chuckled. "Yeah. Favourite drink?"
"Good old Scottish whisky. Dad slipped me some last Christmas. You?"
"Pumpkin juice for me. Food then? I like apple pie myself."
A snort. "You're so tame, Perce. And Chocolate Frogs are the best thing on Earth. Or chocolate in general, really."
Percy rolled his eyes when Oliver fell quiet. He was sure that the other boy was having some chocolate-related fantasy. Which was why he very nearly jumped out of his skin when the Scottish-accented voice spoke rather suddenly.
"I smelled leather, pastry and pumpkins last lesson."
Percy frowned. Oliver's voice sounded… odd. "What are you talking about?"
The Gryffindor Quidditch captain cleared his throat. "Potions. The lesson during which you said you smelled Penelope's perfume."
Amortentia. Percy gaped, flustered. Shit.
"It could have not meant me. I mean, a lot of people love the library, pastry and pumpkins. In fact, Hermione Granger is as much of a library-lover as myself, so it could have been her."
"Yeah. Sorry."
Now Percy felt a little guilty. Especially after picking up a slight disappointment in Oliver's voice. "Actually, I… I didn't smell perfume. If it were perfume, I think it'd only appeal to certain people."
He swore that he could hear Oliver's ears prick up. "I… smelled… brooms, chocolate and something like Firewhiskey."
"Well, as you said, it could be anyone, Perce. I mean, it's rather general, isn't it?" Yeah, well, Mr Oliver Wood, why are you sounding so dastardly hopeful then, you awful bugger?!
Percy was sure that his entire body was flushing red. "Because I smelled… you." He hastened to elaborate. "Like you after a match. Or practice."
He was ready to do anything to bolt out of the stupid closet when Oliver spoke, sounding rather amused. "I appreciate the fact that you smell me after a match, Perce."
A splutter. "Well, it's not as if I can bloody ignore the aroma - I'm being sarcastic here, mind - of your stupid robes! And you refuse to use the showers unless you're attempting to drown yourself!"
"Whatever. So, what now?"
"What do you mean, what now?"
"What does this all mean? Do we snog? Or shag? Or what? I have no experience with this kind of thing, Perce! And what about Penelope?"
"What about Penelope?! And what's this about snogging and shagging? This means that we have to have a nice long talk, that's what!"
"Well, no time like the present, then, eh?"
Percy was enraged that Oliver actually dared to sound eager. Didn't he understand that there was Penelope to be dealt with? (Although, to be honest, Penelope knew about his infatuation with Oliver all too well, given that she was more of a confidante rather than a girlfriend.) And Fred and George would never let it live.
He needed to plan. He needed to-
"What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to manage the logistics of this operation," Percy snarled right back.
All he heard was a vague chuckle and then Oliver's lips met his in the dark and he felt the need to splutter but then squashed that stupid thought and took over the snog as it became apparent that this was, miraculously, Oliver's first kiss ever.
And when Oliver gave a strangled gasp to signify that he was running out of air, Percy's mind registered that perhaps brooms didn't smell that bad after all.
Points Tally:
955/30 = 31.8 + 10 (bonus) = 42 points for Ravenclaw!
Nadia//Claw
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/none
Characters/Pairing: Oliver Wood/Percy Weasley
Summary: After much spluttering and awkward conversation, Percy and Oliver might finally agree on something.
Word Count: 955
Author's Notes: Written for whitestar_alpha and veilingofthesun both in mind.
Registered purchases?: Both
"Well, uhm, what's your favourite colour then?"
Percy spluttered in the dark. This was a very bad move considering that he was spluttering in the dark, after all, and couldn't aim his splutter. Long story short, he spluttered against one of the walls of the closet and it bounced right back into his face.
"It's blue."
"Oh. Mine's red."
"Nice to know."
The silence stretched out rather horridly after that attempt at a conversation, and Oliver decided to try twiddling his thumbs. He had had no reference of thumb-twiddling and so very nearly managed to entangle his ten digits before giving up on twiddling altogether.
"So, uh, have you finished Potions yet?" Percy said, shifting towards Oliver's general direction. "I've done two and a half feet so far, but I've just found a book that changes my entire perspective on Amortentia, so I'm probably going to redo it."
Oliver didn't really know what to say to that, so he just gave a weak smile and, after realising that Percy was still waiting for an audible reply, emitted a small 'huh'.
"We really are shit at talking, aren't we?" Percy said, after coming to the conclusion that Oliver's 'huh' meant 'I haven't done this Potions essay that you just went on about'.
"Yeah." Oliver sniffed the air and broke out into a grin. "I like this closet though. Smells like broom polish."
"Yeah, yeah, you and your ruddy brooms," Percy muttered sourly. Broom smells always seemed to follow the Weasley boy around, thanks to Oliver being his roommate and his partner in one too many classes. Quidditch smells. Dirty underwear smells. Grass stains. Dirt. Splinters. Merlin, the splinters. (Once, he'd sat on Oliver's bed and had shot up after a tiny sliver of wood had pierced his left butt cheek. Fred and George's taunts about having a stick up his arse had lasted for months.)
"What, don't you think that brooms smell nice?" Oliver asked indignantly. "They smell almost as good as Quaffle leather. Or the Pitch after a rainy day."
Percy sighed. He was not about to get into an argument about broom smells. "I just prefer other scents. Like books. Parchment. Ink. You like brooms. I like ink."
To his surprise, Oliver laughed. "It seems as though we're the most mismatched couple ever to be locked in a closet, doesn't it?"
Percy chuckled. "Yeah. Favourite drink?"
"Good old Scottish whisky. Dad slipped me some last Christmas. You?"
"Pumpkin juice for me. Food then? I like apple pie myself."
A snort. "You're so tame, Perce. And Chocolate Frogs are the best thing on Earth. Or chocolate in general, really."
Percy rolled his eyes when Oliver fell quiet. He was sure that the other boy was having some chocolate-related fantasy. Which was why he very nearly jumped out of his skin when the Scottish-accented voice spoke rather suddenly.
"I smelled leather, pastry and pumpkins last lesson."
Percy frowned. Oliver's voice sounded… odd. "What are you talking about?"
The Gryffindor Quidditch captain cleared his throat. "Potions. The lesson during which you said you smelled Penelope's perfume."
Amortentia. Percy gaped, flustered. Shit.
"It could have not meant me. I mean, a lot of people love the library, pastry and pumpkins. In fact, Hermione Granger is as much of a library-lover as myself, so it could have been her."
"Yeah. Sorry."
Now Percy felt a little guilty. Especially after picking up a slight disappointment in Oliver's voice. "Actually, I… I didn't smell perfume. If it were perfume, I think it'd only appeal to certain people."
He swore that he could hear Oliver's ears prick up. "I… smelled… brooms, chocolate and something like Firewhiskey."
"Well, as you said, it could be anyone, Perce. I mean, it's rather general, isn't it?" Yeah, well, Mr Oliver Wood, why are you sounding so dastardly hopeful then, you awful bugger?!
Percy was sure that his entire body was flushing red. "Because I smelled… you." He hastened to elaborate. "Like you after a match. Or practice."
He was ready to do anything to bolt out of the stupid closet when Oliver spoke, sounding rather amused. "I appreciate the fact that you smell me after a match, Perce."
A splutter. "Well, it's not as if I can bloody ignore the aroma - I'm being sarcastic here, mind - of your stupid robes! And you refuse to use the showers unless you're attempting to drown yourself!"
"Whatever. So, what now?"
"What do you mean, what now?"
"What does this all mean? Do we snog? Or shag? Or what? I have no experience with this kind of thing, Perce! And what about Penelope?"
"What about Penelope?! And what's this about snogging and shagging? This means that we have to have a nice long talk, that's what!"
"Well, no time like the present, then, eh?"
Percy was enraged that Oliver actually dared to sound eager. Didn't he understand that there was Penelope to be dealt with? (Although, to be honest, Penelope knew about his infatuation with Oliver all too well, given that she was more of a confidante rather than a girlfriend.) And Fred and George would never let it live.
He needed to plan. He needed to-
"What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to manage the logistics of this operation," Percy snarled right back.
All he heard was a vague chuckle and then Oliver's lips met his in the dark and he felt the need to splutter but then squashed that stupid thought and took over the snog as it became apparent that this was, miraculously, Oliver's first kiss ever.
And when Oliver gave a strangled gasp to signify that he was running out of air, Percy's mind registered that perhaps brooms didn't smell that bad after all.
Points Tally:
955/30 = 31.8 + 10 (bonus) = 42 points for Ravenclaw!
Nadia//Claw