Ficlet: Blank Slate (Katie/Percy)
Title: Blank Slate
Pairing: Katie/Percy
Prompt: Oz
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 442
Summary: Nose neon pink, skin white with solution, Percy stepped into the sunlight.
Author's Notes: The muse returned, hurrah! There are...allusions to certain activities.
Link to Prompt Table: My Prompt Table
Oh, she had laughed, they all had laughed when Percy stepped into the bright sunlight in his swimmers, his bare skin heavily coated with not only sun protection charms, but also the oddly coloured product the muggles in the store had sworn by, this zinc that trailed down his now neon pink nose.
She had giggled, listening as Francine (bloody Francine) had lead the charge, mocking him his straw hat as he sat beneath the large beach umbrella, calling him all sorts of ginger-related nicknames he had grown up with as a child. The names never really bothered him-he was a Weasley after all-but it was the intent behind them that used to strike a young Percy down, deep into his books and studies and rules.
Oh yes, they had laughed, and she had taken his hand, weaving his fingers with her own, their rings clicking softly together as she leaned in for a light kiss on the lips, then rolling gently away to her own blanket in the sun. He picks up his book, pretending to read, but it is futile to try and become engrossed in the magical exports of the country they are visiting when his wife (his wife) is stretched out before him, skin taut and freckled, her long legs splayed just so along her blanket, her hair, now several shades lighter (sun damaged, he thinks, though knows she doesn’t care) bundled up into an impossible bun on the top of her head, sweaty strands of it clinging to the back of her neck, curling around her right ear.
This is why he doesn’t have her visit him at the office, he thinks. Concentrating on anything would be impossible if her schedule matched his-merlin, the bruises she left on him were distracting enough.
She wasn’t laughing, however, when sprawled face down across the hotel room bed, bright red back growling with heat under his touch, being ever so soothed by the balm he had brought with him for this very reason.
Inevitably, she does this every time they vacation in varying degrees, no matter how much he nags or waves his wand in offer of some form of protection for her skin. She will moan, peel, become a new Katie, skin somehow able to take the bright red of the sun and turn it around into a glow, whilst his, if left to the same tactics, would irritate, leave him paler than before, but somehow with even more freckles stamped along his skin.
“Katie,” he sighed, clucking his tongue a little.
“Percy,” she whined, burnt body simultaneously leaning away and into his cool touch.
Pairing: Katie/Percy
Prompt: Oz
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 442
Summary: Nose neon pink, skin white with solution, Percy stepped into the sunlight.
Author's Notes: The muse returned, hurrah! There are...allusions to certain activities.
Link to Prompt Table: My Prompt Table
Oh, she had laughed, they all had laughed when Percy stepped into the bright sunlight in his swimmers, his bare skin heavily coated with not only sun protection charms, but also the oddly coloured product the muggles in the store had sworn by, this zinc that trailed down his now neon pink nose.
She had giggled, listening as Francine (bloody Francine) had lead the charge, mocking him his straw hat as he sat beneath the large beach umbrella, calling him all sorts of ginger-related nicknames he had grown up with as a child. The names never really bothered him-he was a Weasley after all-but it was the intent behind them that used to strike a young Percy down, deep into his books and studies and rules.
Oh yes, they had laughed, and she had taken his hand, weaving his fingers with her own, their rings clicking softly together as she leaned in for a light kiss on the lips, then rolling gently away to her own blanket in the sun. He picks up his book, pretending to read, but it is futile to try and become engrossed in the magical exports of the country they are visiting when his wife (his wife) is stretched out before him, skin taut and freckled, her long legs splayed just so along her blanket, her hair, now several shades lighter (sun damaged, he thinks, though knows she doesn’t care) bundled up into an impossible bun on the top of her head, sweaty strands of it clinging to the back of her neck, curling around her right ear.
This is why he doesn’t have her visit him at the office, he thinks. Concentrating on anything would be impossible if her schedule matched his-merlin, the bruises she left on him were distracting enough.
She wasn’t laughing, however, when sprawled face down across the hotel room bed, bright red back growling with heat under his touch, being ever so soothed by the balm he had brought with him for this very reason.
Inevitably, she does this every time they vacation in varying degrees, no matter how much he nags or waves his wand in offer of some form of protection for her skin. She will moan, peel, become a new Katie, skin somehow able to take the bright red of the sun and turn it around into a glow, whilst his, if left to the same tactics, would irritate, leave him paler than before, but somehow with even more freckles stamped along his skin.
“Katie,” he sighed, clucking his tongue a little.
“Percy,” she whined, burnt body simultaneously leaning away and into his cool touch.