(no subject)
Who: Percy and a prostitute.
Where: His flat, Diagon Alley, London
When: 22 August 2001, late at night
Status: Complete
Notes: PG-13 for implied sexual situations.
The hiss of fabric against fabric filled the room as Percy undid the perfect Windsor knot of his tie. He tossed the fabric onto the couch and glanced at the clock again.
Five minutes and his guest would arrive. He'd only ever done this once before - when he turned twenty, and wanted to rid himself of his virginity once and for all - and it was just as maddening this time around as the last.
"Happy Birthday, Percy," he said to himself. He felt utterly and completely pathetic. But he needed this - especially after the week he'd had.
He dipped his hand into his trouser pocket and retrieved his money bag. He counted out its contents again. Nestled inside were fifty round gold Galleons to be paid to Esmerelda before she even stepped foot into his apartment. After she counted out her payment, made sure it was all there, he'd have until dawn to do as he wished with her.
The last time, he'd mostly talked. She seemed glad for it after his pitiful attempts at sex. And since he hadn't gotten much, rather any, practice since the last time, he figured he'd be spending most of his time talking once again. Not that he minded, really. He liked the company.
Percy was pulled from his revery when there was a light knock at the door. He leapt to his feet and rushed to open the door. The girl held her hand out. "You know the rules, love," she said, attempting to sound apologetic.
He set the money bag in her hand and gestured for her to enter. Esmerelda immediately went to the kitchen counter, dumped out the galleons, and counted them carefully. She scooped the gold into her own bag and nodded. "They tell me it's your birthday," she said, stripping off her cloak. "Want anything special?"
Percy shook his head. He held out his hand and Esmerelda took it. Percy led her to the his neat and tidy bedroom. He'd carefully turned down the bed before she got there. Esmerelda looked around and perched herself on the end of the bed. "For fifty galleons you can do almost anything to me that you like. But," she dipped her head, coyly, "I don't do Polyjuice or animagus forms."
He felt his jaw drop. Animagus forms? People were perverse. "There won't be any of that, no need to mention it, let alone worry about it." His hands moved to the row of buttons on his shirt, unfastening them. "I just want normal companionship."
The woman nodded, pulled off the few articles of clothing she wore and lay back on the bed. Percy felt uncomfortable under her gaze. He nearly asked her to turn around while he was kicking off his shoes, hands poised over his belt buckle. But he didn't. Instead, he finished divesting himself of his clothes, turned out the lights, and climbed into the bed along side his companion.
He didn't want to look at her face, or listen to the empty words that flowed from her lips. He just wanted to feel a body pressed against his and pretend for a moment that he had someone to love and who loved him in return; someone who had already forgiven his past.
Percy closed his eyes as foreign hands touched his body. "Tell me I'm forgiven," he said. "Tell me that my mistakes don't matter any more."
And she did. But, it didn't help. Percy didn't ask her to say another word.
Where: His flat, Diagon Alley, London
When: 22 August 2001, late at night
Status: Complete
Notes: PG-13 for implied sexual situations.
The hiss of fabric against fabric filled the room as Percy undid the perfect Windsor knot of his tie. He tossed the fabric onto the couch and glanced at the clock again.
Five minutes and his guest would arrive. He'd only ever done this once before - when he turned twenty, and wanted to rid himself of his virginity once and for all - and it was just as maddening this time around as the last.
"Happy Birthday, Percy," he said to himself. He felt utterly and completely pathetic. But he needed this - especially after the week he'd had.
He dipped his hand into his trouser pocket and retrieved his money bag. He counted out its contents again. Nestled inside were fifty round gold Galleons to be paid to Esmerelda before she even stepped foot into his apartment. After she counted out her payment, made sure it was all there, he'd have until dawn to do as he wished with her.
The last time, he'd mostly talked. She seemed glad for it after his pitiful attempts at sex. And since he hadn't gotten much, rather any, practice since the last time, he figured he'd be spending most of his time talking once again. Not that he minded, really. He liked the company.
Percy was pulled from his revery when there was a light knock at the door. He leapt to his feet and rushed to open the door. The girl held her hand out. "You know the rules, love," she said, attempting to sound apologetic.
He set the money bag in her hand and gestured for her to enter. Esmerelda immediately went to the kitchen counter, dumped out the galleons, and counted them carefully. She scooped the gold into her own bag and nodded. "They tell me it's your birthday," she said, stripping off her cloak. "Want anything special?"
Percy shook his head. He held out his hand and Esmerelda took it. Percy led her to the his neat and tidy bedroom. He'd carefully turned down the bed before she got there. Esmerelda looked around and perched herself on the end of the bed. "For fifty galleons you can do almost anything to me that you like. But," she dipped her head, coyly, "I don't do Polyjuice or animagus forms."
He felt his jaw drop. Animagus forms? People were perverse. "There won't be any of that, no need to mention it, let alone worry about it." His hands moved to the row of buttons on his shirt, unfastening them. "I just want normal companionship."
The woman nodded, pulled off the few articles of clothing she wore and lay back on the bed. Percy felt uncomfortable under her gaze. He nearly asked her to turn around while he was kicking off his shoes, hands poised over his belt buckle. But he didn't. Instead, he finished divesting himself of his clothes, turned out the lights, and climbed into the bed along side his companion.
He didn't want to look at her face, or listen to the empty words that flowed from her lips. He just wanted to feel a body pressed against his and pretend for a moment that he had someone to love and who loved him in return; someone who had already forgiven his past.
Percy closed his eyes as foreign hands touched his body. "Tell me I'm forgiven," he said. "Tell me that my mistakes don't matter any more."
And she did. But, it didn't help. Percy didn't ask her to say another word.