Title: Turnabout

Author: tarotgal

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: R (though "off-camera" sex)

Parings: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood

Spoilers: MINOR ones for book 4

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all that he comes with, including these two. No pun intended there. This is just for fun. No money is being made. No infringement intended. You get the picture.

Summary: After a hard day at the office, Percy heads to Oliver's place to take care of a few needs. Of course, it turns out that Oliver needs a bit more than Percy does. Set a year after their graduation from Hogwarts.

Feedback: It's my second Percy/Oliver story ever, so go easy on me. But I'd love to hear some thoughts on it, good or bad.







     The rain poured down in sheets as it had a tendency to do most early summer afternoons in Scotland. Percy Weasley squished along the sidewalk in galoshes quickly, holding the hood of his raincoat further down over his bent head as the wind tossed rain in his face nonetheless. Luckily, he'd been able to apparate most of the way there, but this last leg of the journey had been wet enough to make up for it. Percy was just coming off a perfectly rotten day at the Ministry and needed some comfort, or to blow off some steam at the very least. He stormed up the familiar stairs, one hand on the railing to be safe, and knocked on the door. "Oy! Olly!" He knocked harder as a sudden gust of wind helped a bucket-load of water pour over the gutter on the roof and onto his head, down his back. "Oliver, it's me!" he called, wishing he had his own set of keys. As he knocked again, the door opened, and he was pulled inside.


     Oliver's flat was pretty bare. It consisted of two rooms, one being the bathroom. There was a fold-out couch that served as a bed. There was a lamp supplying the current light to the main portion of the room, though the light over the stove in the far kitchen area was also on. The floor was solid hardwood with no carpets, and the walls were bare plaster apart from a few posters of Quidditch teams which seemed to have been placed there in sympathy.


     Oliver Wood, still grasping his hand, pulled him close and embraced the dripping Percy. "Sorry, under the covers." He shut the door behind and bolted it. "Didn't hear ya." He smiled and dragged his hand beneath his nose. "Dinner's on the stove. D'ya want a drink?"


     With a sigh, "After the day I just had, I think I need a beer." Percy stripped off his raincoat and galoshes and left them by the door. He dried his glasses on his sweater as he walked over to the couch-slash-bed. He sat down on the edge and fumbled a catch as Oliver threw a beer at him. It landed, unbroken, on the mattress beside him. Oliver laughed, striding back over with a soda pop in his hand. "I know, I know, I'm hopeless," Percy laughed, retrieving the beer and taking a few gulps. "But that's why you're on a Quidditch team and not me."


     "Ugh!" Oliver groaned and fell back on the bed, arm bent, wrist against his forehead and over his eyes. "Don't remind me!"


     Percy winced. He'd meant to avoid that subject as much as possible. The wound was still too fresh. The season had ended with a devastating loss which hadn't at all been Oliver's fault even though he had been on the field at the time. It had been a close game all the way down to the finish with the golden snitch caught after a terrible battle. It just so happened that it was the other team's seeker who came out of the skirmish with the snitch in her hand. Percy had sunk deep in his seat, completely gutted as he watched Oliver and the rest of Puddlemere United trudge back to the locker rooms in the pouring rain. It had been such a huge event that it was odd to think that it had just happened this past weekend. "Sorry, Mate," he said with a sympathetic look. "Didn't mean to bring it up again."


     Oliver shook his head, sniffled, and dropped his arm. "S'all right, Perce." He reached up and tugged the back of Percy's shirt to pull him back against the bed beside him.


     Percy pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and smiled. "I could, ah, figure something out to make you feel better." He ran a hand down Oliver's front slowly, resting it on his crotch. Shyly but determinedly he began to unbutton Oliver's fly. He rolled over onto Oliver's legs and buried his face in Oliver's half-exposed crotch.


     Oliver, on the other hand, turned his head and buried the lower half of his face in cupped hands. "hetchh! hitchoo!"


     Percy looked up at once, glasses halfway down his nose, a look of worry on his face as he listened to Oliver's sniffles. "Olly?" He pulled himself up, propped on elbows, a look of realization on his face. "I knew it! You are coming down with something." He rolled off and pulled a small pack of tissues out of his pocket. He crawled back up the bed so he was level with Oliver and handed the tissue over. "Merlin, Baby, why didn't you tell me?"


     With a shrug, "You had a report due at the Ministry. And you've had all that stuff to worry about with Mr. Crouch and that reporter and all. I didn't want to worry... ya..." His voice raised and he drew a wavering breath. Percy reached out to put an arm around Oliver, who pulled away from him. "Give-me-a-sec," he managed quickly, pitch high, breath nearly gone. He held the tissue to his face with both hands. "HUTchhh! Hectushh!" He pulled away more, sitting up, blowing his nose. His shoulders fell with a deep sigh. "Bless me."


     Percy sat up as well. "All right then. Bless you." He draped his arms around Oliver from behind, locking hands in front against Oliver's chest. "You still should have told me."


     Oliver shook his head. "Well, you know now." He sounded a bit stuffed in the nose, and Percy broke his one-way hug to hand over another two tissues. "Thanks." He leaned forward and blew his nose again.


     Wrapping his arms around Oliver's waist this time, he kissed the back of Oliver's neck. "Now that I know, how about telling me how you feel?" He kissed just behind Oliver's ear.


     Oliver chuckled. "That's so you, Percy Weasley." He coughed harshly into his fist, directing it away from Percy.


     "I should hope it's me," Percy said, looking himself over. Ministry robes covering conservative khakis, a brown belt to match his shoes, and a short-sleeved polo shirt. "Otherwise I'd be worried about who's got his arms around my baby's waist."


     Oliver chuckled again and wrapped his arms over Percy's, squeezing back. "I meant the way you want all the details so you can make an accurate conclusion."


     "I didn't say that," he said softly, kissing the side of Oliver's neck.


     "You didn't have to." He took Percy's hand between his and stroked the back of it gently. "I know you too well."


     Percy pulled Oliver back with him against the bed. Oliver coughed again, and Percy pushed a pillow beneath his head. "Well I know you, too." He ran his hand down Oliver's body slowly, making little squiggles and zig-zags with his finger as though drawing. "A brilliant and quite sexy Scottish accent. Short, sandy-brown hair. Deep brown eyes and thick eyebrows. Dimples in your cheeks when you smile. Exactly five centimeters taller than me though much stronger and burlier. Smooth torso and the most amazing biceps and pectorals. And then there's your cock, which is--"


     He blushed a bit to hear respectable Percy Weasley about to describe his cock in vivid detail. "Ah, I think that's enough. I get it!" He reached over and targeted Percy right in the tummy with tickles. He knew exactly where to do that. Percy bent in half with boyish laughter, trying to fight against Oliver but he was quite helpless. He dissolved into laughter in Oliver's arms, snuggling up to him in bed. "So I guess it's my turn?" He rubbed his hand beneath his nose again. "I've had this ruddy headache since yesterday. And, ah, a tickle in my throat. Then I woke up this morning all stuffy and haven't been able to stop sneezing all day." He sighed and closed his eyes, holding Percy tightly.


     Percy took it all in, nodding, making mental notes, and drawing the conclusion that it was only a bit of a cold. Probably brought on by too much Quidditch in the cold rain and too much depression after the last loss. "So..." Percy reached over and stroked Oliver's cheek. "What can I do to make you feel better about this, too?"


*                      *                      *


     "Dinner is prepared," announced Percy, who had long since traded-in his ministry robes and shirt for an apron. Oliver had no table or chairs, so Percy brought the meal out on a tray, setting it down on the bed on top of the blanket, under which he had tucked Oliver some time ago. "It smells wonderful," Percy complimented, as the stew had already been assembled before his arrival. He had done the bread and drinks but those were hardly difficult. It cheered Oliver up quite a bit to have Percy walking around shirtless with an apron on, however, no matter how little actual cooking was involved. He handed Oliver a bowl and took one for himself, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers on the bed across from Oliver.


     Though he didn't really want to admit it, Oliver didn't feel very hungry. He did his best to drain the bowl and earn a smile from a concerned Percy. The first spoonful made him wince as the pain hit the back of his throat, but the next few hurt less, and the ones after even less. "hehh-" He quickly set the soup back down on the tray, clamped his hand over his nose and mouth, and sneezed. "heckshh! Hihxshhh! Heh-Uhtshhh!" Oliver gave a shrug. "I can't taste much. I'm a little congested."


     "Bless you," Percy said, steadying the tray with his free hand so nothing spilled. "Anyway, it's understandable... you've got a cold," replied Percy, eating a bit himself, but watching Oliver closely for signs of possible future distress.


     "So tell me about your day, then?" He asked, taking a bit of bread and dipping it into his bowl.


     This time is was Percy's turn to shrug. "You don't want me to bore you with all that." With anyone else, he might have jumped at the chance. His father, or his siblings, or anyone, really. But he knew he bored them all and they merely put up with his ramblings because they had no choice. He was never keen to put Oliver through that.


     "Of course I do," Oliver replied with a smile, he moved his spoon in a circular motion to indicate that Percy should start talking. "On with it then."


     So Percy, with a wide grin on his face, talked for nearly twenty minutes straight all about magic carpets and wand core standards and reports to the health and safety department which had gone well and marching Rita Skeeter right out of the office by her thickly-padded shoulders.


     And even though Oliver was feeling a little sick and a lot tired, he listened intently, asked questions to prod him further, and showed proper emotions at all the proper instances, including sympathy where it was needed. And Percy paused to allow Oliver time to sneeze and blow his nose whenever needed, remembering where to pick up afterwards so he did not need to repeat himself. When done, he took Percy in a warm hug, kissed his cheek warmly, and told him he was proud to be bedding such a clearly invaluable member of the Ministry.


     Percy blushed in his ears and cheeks more brightly than his hair and offered more stew. But Oliver couldn't make himself that hungry, even to humor Percy. "Dessert then?" Percy suggested, collecting the dinner things. "Ice cream will help your throat, Baby." He leaned over and kissed the man's lips gently. "I know you're probably full," he anticipated, reading Oliver's doubtful expression. "But will you eat a little if I feed it to you?" Oliver nodded reluctantly, his long eyelashes prominent as he looked down grinning.


     Percy scrambled off the bed, taking the tray and dumping all the dirty dishes in the sink. He ran some water, poured some detergent, and the enchanted scrubbers set to work on the dishes. He found a half-eaten pint of chocolate-vanilla swirl in the back of the freezer and grabbed a spoon on the way back. He gently scooped out a bite, demonstrating how easy and delicious it was as he knelt on the bed. He stretched out and lay down, then dramatically rolled over and over until he was beside Oliver, who was back under the covers and laughing at Percy. "And here was I thinking Fred and George were the funniest ones in the family."  


     "Mmm," Percy replied, readjusting his glasses and swallowing the ice cream at last. As much as he loved his brothers, all his brothers, he didn't really want them in bed with him just now when he meant to share some ice cream with his lover as seductively as he possibly could. "Just you wait." He dug another spoonful of ice cream out and gently guided it to Oliver's mouth. Oliver closed his eyes. He leaned in and kissed Oliver on the mouth, parting the man's lips carefully with his tongue. Then he pulled back and guided the spoon in. The tender lips shut around the spoon and in a few moments. As Percy pulled the spoon out, Oliver's Adam's apple bobbed to indicate the swallowing and a smile spread on his face to indicate the satisfaction. "Was that good?" Percy asked softly, applying an equally soft kiss to Oliver's cheek.


     "Aye, that was good," Oliver said, opening his eyes with a dreamy sort of expression on his face. "May I have another?"


     "You ask so politely," Percy observed with a sly smile, scooping out another spoonful. "How could I possibly resist?"


     Oliver opened his mouth this time, obediently, waiting for it, but pulled away at the last second. Luckily, Percy managed to hold his hand out so as not to spill the ice cream on the blankets. Oliver cupped hands over his nose and mouth and turned again. "huh-Uhtchhhh! Hetkeshhh!" He paused, sniffling madly. "hehKeshuh!" He looked a bit embarrassed by it all, not wanting to lower his hands this time.


     "Bless you," Percy said, dropping the spoon back into the ice cream and getting off the bed to his feet. "I'm out of tissues, do you have some around here?"


     Oliver nodded towards the bathroom, and Percy hurried over, returning in a flash with a box. He pulled out a few tissues and handed them to Oliver right away. Then he settled back onto the bed beside Oliver, his arm around the man who was blowing his nose.


     Before Oliver could say anything, Percy efficiently had another spoonful ready. And by the time Oliver had savored this one as well, any embarrassed apologies and thank you's had long since been forgotten.


     Percy guided Oliver back down onto the bed, reclining against the pillows piled there. Then he climbed onto the man's thighs and began rubbing at his crotch area through the blankets as he held another spoonful, melting, dripping over Oliver's face. Oliver strained to take it in his mouth, then licked his lips and parts around it to catch the fallen drops with a laugh. Percy laughed back, offering another rapidly-melting spoonful but moving it just out of reach just as Oliver went for it. Oliver made a jokingly frustrated face and tried to go for it again, but Percy eluded him again, moving it away.


     Oliver paused once again to sneeze. "huhschhhh! Hihtshuhhh! hehtchhh! uhh... huhEhkshhh!" When he'd recovered, he snapped at the spoon, catching Percy off his guard and swallowing the ice cream with an accomplished grin.


     Meanwhile, Oliver grew hard beneath the covers at Percy's skilled rubbings. His breathing was faster, deeper, and he was starting to have trouble concentrating on the ice cream as it dripped over his face. And as Percy continued to rub, he realized he didn't really care to concentrate any longer. "Hey Perce?" he said, grabbing Percy's wrist as he came over with another spoonful. "Forget the ice cream and get under the sheets with me."


     "Really?" Percy asked, looking a little hesitant, though his hand still rubbed hard, betraying him by showing his excitement. "I don't want you physically exerting yourself."


     Olly grinned. "I can't make any promises about that... but as long as I have you to take care of me afterwards, I'll be just fine." He pulled on Percy's arm and pushed the blankets down to allow Percy to slip beneath.


     Percy's hand found its way immediately to Oliver's crotch, and the already open portion of his jeans. Carefully he slid his hand beneath the waistband on one side and pushed the jeans down. He repeated the action a number of times until he had inched the pants down the man's thighs. Then he slid them off entirely along with Oliver's undies. Oliver's shirt was slightly easier, and came right off over his head between kisses from Percy. Percy was attempting to lick clean Oliver's face from the bits of ice cream that had dripped on him. It was an important task, and one he would not let Oliver keep him from, even as the man, pulled his shirt off, undid his belt, and tugged his trousers down. Oliver was nice enough to fold Percy's pants along the creases and drape them over the arm of the couch before taking Percy fully in his arms with a more passionate kiss. Both of them tasted like chocolate and vanilla to the other.


     Gently, Percy was turned over, Oliver caressed the pale, freckled skin lovingly. His hands rested on Percy's behind, massaging tenderly. Then he pulled back. "hektshhh!" He covered it roughly, in a panic, with a palm beneath his nose, over his mouth. "I, ah, didn't...?"


     "You didn't," Percy confirmed, looking back with a reassuring smile. "And I wouldn't care if you had. Now, are you going to take me or what?" Oliver grinned and pulled the blankets over them both as he slipped himself in and both men moaned softly. The spoon sunk to the bottom of the container as the ice cream inside melted. It sat alone and abandoned on the floor beside the rocking bed.


*                      *                      *


     Percy woke to the cold at his back, turning over to find the covers thrown off and no Oliver there spooning him from behind as there had been when he fell asleep only a short while ago. "Olly?" he called, breaking into a yawn just after. He stretched with a shiver and sat up. Quickly putting his glasses on, he looked around the apartment, finding himself quite alone. "Oliver?"


     Oliver appeared from the bathroom, sniffling, rubbing the side of his hand back and forth beneath his nose again. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."  He coughed and crawled back across the bed to Percy. "I had to sneeze." He sniffled and scrubbed at his nose. "A half dozen times. Sniff, sniff, SNIFF! Maybe more."


     Percy opened his arms for Oliver to crawl into, then pulled the blankets up over both of them. "You don't have to go to the bathroom just to sneeze. This is your place. And you didn't wake me, the coldness did." Oliver snuggled into Percy's arms, his head on Percy's chest, arms around him warmly.


     "You need your rest. You've got a full day at the Ministry tomor-row." He lifted his head up and looked around. Understanding, Percy grabbed the tissue box and pulled it over. Oliver gave him a smile of appreciation as he took a tissue and brought it to his nose. "huh-EHKtshhh! Hehtchhuhhh!" He sniffled, sighed, and put his head back down on Percy's bare chest, curling into a half-ball against him.


     "Bless you," Percy whispered, running his hand through Oliver's short hair, stroking comfortingly. "And I appreciate your concern, but I'm not going into the office tomorrow."


     "What?" Oliver raised his head again, to give Percy a look of confusion. "But you always go to the office. Even sometimes on weekends. You'd die before you missed a day." He rubbed his nose again and reached across Percy to snatch another tissue from the box. "hectushhh! hitchoo!" He paused, waiting for it, wiggling his nose, which made Percy laugh in spite of himself. Oliver hit him playfully. "Come on Perce... lay off... I've got to snee... wait, no, here-we-go-heh-EHtchoo!" He collapsed with a sigh against Percy's chest. "I'm pathetic. A professional Quidditch player and a few sneezes take all the energy out of me."


     "A professional Quidditch player with a bad cold," Percy corrected, being accurate Percy again. But he hugged his Quidditch player tightly. "I'm going to stay right here with you all day, plumping your pillows and warming your blankets." He grinned, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "In the morning I'll send an owl to Mother and ask her for the recipe for that herbal tea she makes whenever one of us gets sick. And I'll make you chicken soup when you get hungry." He gently stroked Oliver's slender nose. "We'll spend the day in bed, and I'll read you the morning paper, starting with the sports section of course, and skipping over anything that blasted Rita Skeeter has to say. And I'll take you into the shower when you need the steam to clear your stuffy nose. And... did I mention spending all day in bed?" he asked, and Oliver nodded with a knowing smile. "So how does that sound?"


     And a stunned Oliver, who should have remembered that Percy was the care-taking type for all the hours the boy had spent at Penelope's bedside their sixth year after she had been petrified, nodded. "That sounds just wonderful, Perce. Thanks." He spoke breathlessly, as though he was overcome by the sentiment. The gratitude showed in his eyes even as they closed with fatigue.


     But he stirred once more, eyes darting toward the tissue box. Percy already had two tissues at the ready, having heard the change in Oliver's familiar breathing. "huhktushhh! Hetshhh! huh... huh-EHkshhh! hitcheoo!"


     "Bless you," whispered Percy again, holding Oliver tighter in a hug, and trading him a handful of fresh tissues for his used ones, which he deposited on the floor beside the bed. "Now try and get some sleep, Baby. I'll stay awake and watch over you," he kissed the top of Oliver's head and continued to stroke it gently as he would a puppy. Oliver nodded and, after sniffling every few seconds with the tissues to his nose, finally fell asleep. Percy wiped his nose tenderly, kissed his forehead, and continued to pet him soothingly all through the night. Rain be damned. Work be damned. Sleep be damned. His Olly needed him.