Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bus was, by far, the worst possible way to get to school, especially on the first day back. Percy had always thought this. Everybody was so full of vigour and eagerness to see their friends again, excited to learn what their classes would be like, and looking forward to beginning the year. Percy didn’t particularly wish unhappiness on others, but he did find joy when reality finally hit others, and life was so drained out of everybody that the bus became an easier medium of travel with silence radiating throughout the entire bus. 

It became slightly more bearable when he had his headphones shielding his ears from any noise, and blaring rather whimsical sound. And it was bearable when Penelope caught the bus, but now, she was driving to school every day to get her license. He was happy for her, but he wished he wasn’t stuck alone, and beside Ginny, who looked as though her guts were about to pour out of her.

Ginny wasn’t really all that shy. She never had been. But attending new places tended to bring out her anxiety, and she fell silent as she usually did when it became too loud to ignore. Percy knew this, because he felt it, too. He fell silent, or unnecessarily bitter about everything, and it came when he least expected it. Late night reading, staring out an open window, or going to school on certain days. It crept up on him before he even realised it.

It was as though he was drowning, losing his breath the further he sank. He could try clawing his way back up, and only when he closed his knuckle, he found he was reaching out for nothing. He was just an anchor, falling to the depths of the sea to never resurface. 

But he always did. He blinked, and it was like it never really happened. He knew it did happen. That it did exist. But every fear that possessed him felt like a figment of his imagination. And maybe that was all it really was. A narrative he wrote in his own mind, almost solidifying it as the truth, because how it felt was real. 

The bus came to a stop at the front of the school, and this sight was, unfortunately, not just a figment of his imagination. It was real, and he knew, then, that summer had come to an end. It had slipped away from him, and all the sleepless nights he spent with Penelope were over. All the days wondering where Isaac had disappeared to were over. All the hours he spent in his room, sobbing over some stupid breakup with Ethan, were now over.

Ethan was a boy he met in January, a little before he and Terence amicably broke up. He moved to their town at that time, and one day when Percy was working, he walked in and cursed him. It was beautiful, and slowly drifted into something calamitous in the matter of those six months. They met all of each other’s friends, regularly went on dates, and one night, Percy caught him, twisted in bedsheets with some poor girl who didn’t know who she got involved with. 

She was the one who followed him out. She was the one who called his name, and she was the one who sat with him, holding tightly to his hand, and repeating that she really didn’t know. He told her it was okay about a hundred times, and he was sure he had never seen a person so distraught. 

“Does he really have chlamydia?” She had asked him, eyes wide and bloodshot.

His own eyes were tired and draping, and his vision was blurred. “No, I lied.”

She smiled, and stretched her arm around him. He was sure everything would be so much worse if she hadn’t followed him out that night. Eventually, Charlie pulled up, and brought him back home, rescuing him from his misery. Although, he carried that misery with him everywhere he went, and he wanted to leave it in the summer. But that kind of shocking heartbreak didn’t leave you. It stayed with you even when you were over the person that did it. But it was always hard to forget when the pain still lived freshly in your memory.

He had his back pressed against the bus window, waiting for everyone to exit. Ginny glanced back at him, rolling her eyes at the distracted people hardly moving down the bus. He folded his arms with a nod of his head, feeling the same frustration. It was like this every single day. Everybody had just begun their conversations with their friends, and it was not yet at a point where it could dry up. Everybody was so recharged, but it wouldn’t last very long. It never did. 

Penelope was grinning the second she laid eyes on Percy, a smile about a mile wide, and he felt as though the build up of anxiety faded in just moments of seeing her. It always did. Her shoulders straightened, and he had realised what a strange sight it was. To see her in her uniform with their white blouse and dress pants after seeing her in casual clothing for two months. She waved, and took off quickly to meet them half way. He allowed a smile to creep onto his own lips. 

“Hi!” She said, stretching her arms out for Ginny first. Ginny willingly embraced her, her cheeks pink. If you were to ask Percy, he would tell you he was sure Ginny had a crush on Penelope, or she was just the older sister she had always wished for among her six brothers. She placed her hand on the back of Ginny’s head, rubbing gently. When Ginny stepped back, Penelope held her arms out even wider. “Hey, Perce!”

“Long time no see,” he whispered when he reached her. Penelope chuckled, softly tapping his arm, because they saw each other the day before. They pretty much saw each other every day of the break. 

“How are you doing?” She asked, holding a concerned expression on her face. She was there to hold Percy during the days he could hardly get out of bed. She was there to insult Ethan whenever he needed an ego boost, and she was just… there, and she never left. It was only fair he could allow her to show that she was concerned. 

“Not too bad,” he answered, because he wasn’t too bad. Not compared to the summer, anyway. He was so depressed that every night he would fall asleep unknowing of whether or not he would really wake up. Of course, every day he did wake up, and every day, he wished he hadn’t. It was funny how a single person could make another feel so much, because Percy felt as though his world around him, and there was nothing he could do to end it. “And how are you?” 

“Oh, I am wonderful, darling,” she said, because that was how she answered him every time. It was a response programmed into her. She was allowed to be there for everybody else, but she would not let a single person see inside her own soul. But Percy was sure if he caught a glimpse, he would see beautifully twisted vines, blossoming into flowers just as mesmerising. She had her own struggles, but she didn’t have a single demon. She grinned, and tilted her head, gesturing for Ginny and Percy to follow. “And I’ve been dreading today. I spent half the night awake, thinking about coming back, and I was thinking why can’t the whole year be summer?”

“The question of the ages,” he laughed, stretching his arm around her to pull her closer. She dipped her head back, looking back at him, and sighed loudly. Many people would think Percy and Penelope loved school, because they were constantly labelled as the nerds. And they totally were—there was no denying that. But Percy worked hard to succeed, not necessarily because he loved school. “But then, we wouldn’t have winter, and that’s so much better than summer.”

“I love winter,” she agreed with a grin. He loved winter too. Mostly because there wasn’t a second he spent away from her even then. Her fathers always joined the rest of his family for Christmas, because his mother, and Micheal, her father, were best friends throughout high school and college. “Which does remind me, you’re going to have to send me a list of what you want for Christmas.”

“It’s not for another three and a half months, Pen,” he commented, looking back at her. 

“That’s not actually as long as you think, considering it’s already September,” she replied. She dropped her head back to her arm, breathing out an overly dramatic, loud sigh again. “I don’t want to be back here. I hate it here, Perce.” 

He laughed breathily, squeezing her shoulder gently. “I can, unfortunately, not do anything about that. As much as I wish I could.”

“But since we are back, we need to make sure we have a good year. You know, no distractions, laser focus, and being together.”

“Yes, no distractions,” he agreed. The week after his breakup, he had that thought too. No more distractions involving romance that would tear him down again. Laser focus, and working hard for success, and enjoying being with his friends. 

Penelope nudged him softly as they continued to walk, and sped up when the bell echoed throughout the school, which signalled them to the hall like every other year. Every year, and every term, they had a welcome assembly as if they weren’t welcoming them back to Hell. High school, after a considerable amount of time, Percy decided was another form of Hell to be forced through. 

They say if you’re a sinner, you go to Hell when you die, but there was no place more evil than Earth.

Ginny glanced at Percy as she walked through the doors of the quick filling hall. She bit on her bottom lip, her eyes bouncing around the room as though she had no clue where to go. But judging off the children that looked about ten years old, it was easy to pick out. He placed his hand gently on her back, gesturing toward the seats. 

“You’ll be okay,” he told her with a gentle smile, remembering the time Charlie said the same thing to Percy, and when Percy said it to Ron. Fred and George were never concerned, and the second they walked through the gates for the first time, they decided they ruled the school. Even the older students enjoyed their presence. “Okay, just sit here, alright? You’ll be fine, and you can come to me whenever you like.”

“Okay Perce,” she said softly, glancing back at who will become her peers for the next seven years. She nodded her head, and gave him one last look before taking a seat. He waited a few moments. Just a few moments. Just to make sure she really was okay, and she was. 

Penelope placed her hand on his shoulder, softly tugging him along to find their own seats. They didn’t have specific seats they must sit in. It was the year groups that had their designated area for assemblies. Of course, he had grown used to this routine. He was in year twelve, now, and was so close to escaping the shackles of high school. He was so close to achieving freedom. 

“Where the hell is Isaac?” Penelope asked, searching around the hall.

Percy smiled. “Well, you know him. He’s almost always the last person in assemblies,” he said while making his way through the seats, and finding Marcus Flint. Marcus seemed as though he was physically incapable of actually being nice to anybody outside his small circle, and he had always despised Percy. Percy didn’t really care much. He lowered himself into the seat beside him, and opened his mouth to speak to Penelope. 

“Move over one, will you?” Elton said, who was sitting on the other side of Marcus. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m saving it for Terence.”

“So, one dickhead gets replaced by another,” Penelope smirked, tilting her head to the side. Percy jumped up, hopping one seat along.

“Lucky us,” he drawled with Penelope following him soon after. 

“Oh, shut up, Weasley,” Marcus muttered, glaring at him. Percy rolled his eyes, and rolled his head back to Penelope. It was comforting to him, really. Marcus’ general demeanor was cold and angry, so Percy knew he wasn’t doing anything wrong if he was being treated the same way as everybody else. 

As he did so, Isaac came through the seats, leaning slightly to the left to dodge the chairs. He stepped in front of Percy and Penelope, and slumped himself between Penelope and Marcus. And if there was a single person that could beat Marcus, it would be Isaac, because he really didn’t give a fuck about anything anyone had to say. Oftentimes, he would pretend he couldn’t hear a person just to avoid answering them.  

“Could you move?” Marcus asked, waving his head to usher Isaac away. Isaac lazily blinked, and looked over to him with a smirk. “The seat is taken.”

“I don’t see anybody here,” Isaac answered, straightening slightly, and stretching his arms out to gesture around him. 

“Well… It’s called saving someone a seat,” he replied, shuffling in his seat. “Move.”

“Bite me,” he answered, leaning closer to Marcus. Marcus scoffed, and sat further down in his seat before glancing at Elton with pure annoyance. Isaac smiled, and twisted his body to face Percy and Penelope. “Anyway, how was your summer?” 

“Never mind ours, how was yours?” Penelope asked. “We barely saw you. What could you possibly have been doing?” 

“Someone,” Issac winked. Marcus leaned forward, coughing as though he suddenly choked on something. Percy widened his eyes, finding the sudden abruption of a coughing fit surprising. “Oh, and I heard Ethan unfortunately isn’t suffering. Apparently he was like… really sad about the breakup as if it wasn’t his fault, but apparently, he’s doing fine now.”

“Where’d you hear this?” Percy asked, softly shaking his head. 

“I met one of his friends at a party, and it was mentioned.”

“Jesus Christ, Isaac, did you go through nine lives over the summer?” Penelope chuckled, confusion reflecting through her face, which was definitely justified. This was like every other summer Isaac had been their friend. He would disappear, and speak about his summer as though they already knew all this 

Isaac laughed, leaning forward. “I went through about nine guys,” he winked, which was yet again unsurprising. Isaac had casually mentioned his abandonment issues as a joke. To him, it was better to have casual hookups than a relationship where he could truly be abandoned again. That was never anything he said aloud. Just something Percy had come to understand about him. 

Marcus scoffed. “That’s not really a brag,” he interjected, his arms folded tightly around his chest. 

Isaac shrugged. “Don’t be bitter, because you still haven’t managed to feel the touch of another person,” he mumbled, letting his back drop to his seat.

Marcus blinked hard, rolling his eyes. “Better that than ran through.” 

“Bitter,” Isaac repeated, heightening the pitch of his voice to tease Marcus. Marcus softly pushed Isaac, which earned Marcus a nudge of his own. A year ago, they became close friends when Percy and Terence briefly dated. The two of them didn’t end badly, but the friendship between Marcus and Isaac grew into resentment when Percy and Terence broke up, and they hadn’t stopped arguing since. 

Percy turned his head for a moment, and for a moment, his heart stopped as it always did when he saw Oliver Wood. Percy had many crushes throughout his childhood, but Oliver—he was his first real love. The kind of love that you could only ever give when you had so much to give, and in doing so, Percy thought a piece of him would always lay in the palm of Oliver’s hands, and he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t even like Oliver.

Arrogant, irritating, obnoxious Oliver Wood with a heart of gold. Pausing at the beginning of each year, arriving late to his first few classes, because he would stop to help the year seven students. Obsessed with football, and not in the normal, hobby way, but an all-consuming, strange obsession with the sport. And Oliver Wood, who accidentally kicked a ball into Percy’s head in year eight, and knocked all sense into Percy when he just laughed along with his friends. 

That was when Percy’s own all-consuming, strange obsession with Oliver came to an end. But he couldn’t help it. A first love sticks with you like a bad smell, haunting you for the remainder of your days. For Percy, every relationship he had was what could have been, and what never was. Every time he fell for another person, he was painfully reminded of the first time he ever did. And he had come to resent Oliver for that reason. Because Percy had never been able to forget him. Not even for a second. 

It was especially hard with a person who always spoke to you. Oliver could never truly pick up on the fact that somebody hated him. And even if he did, he still kept popping up out of the blue, and speaking to them as if there was no tension between them. Oliver treated Percy as friends that hardly liked each other, and there was nothing he detested more. 

“Hey,” Oliver said, gently nudging Percy. Percy widened his eyes, staring forward. “Your little sister invited my family friend—uh, Colin—to sit beside her, and it was very sweet, actually.”

Percy glanced at him, and quickly looked away. “I don’t care,” he mumbled, mirroring the body language of Marcus from moments before. 

“Jesus, I was just saying,” Oliver sighed, holding both of his hands up. “And that makes me wonder, will there ever be a day Percy Weasley doesn’t answer me with such animosity?” 

“Oh, wow, animosity,” Percy chuckled quietly. “Big word for you. Is that the word of the day?” 

Oliver rolled his eyes, letting out a scoff. “You are such a dick,” he told him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay,” Percy murmured. 

There were only brief moments like this one, because they always managed to sit on opposite sides of the classroom, they were friends with totally different people, and their lives were completely separate. Percy wasn’t displeased by this. He was actually rather grateful. He expected that Oliver disappearing from his life will only make him disappear from his mind eventually. No matter how slow that process was going to be. 

However, Peter was sitting beside Oliver, arm around the empty seat beside him. He had been absolutely head over heels in love with Penelope for a year at that point. Percy started catching on earlier that year, but he suspected that it had been going on a lot longer than that. Unfortunately, Penelope had never noticed, because she was too busy looking in all the wrong directions. Penelope was a beautiful person, inside and out, and all the guys she had ever been with had treated her like shit. 

There was a period of time where Penelope wasn’t looking anywhere, but it didn’t seem like she was really there. It seemed like she went off on her own planet, smiling at random times as she gazed into the distance. Percy had to ask her multiple times if she was high, and that always did the trick with bringing her back. After that period of time, she crashed. Something had changed, and she spent weeks in a deep depression. She said there was no reason behind it, so now, whenever she was happy, Percy couldn’t help but fear another crash was going to happen. But it never did.

Percy hoped that eventually Peter would have the courage to tell her, to confess all that he had felt for her, and Penelope would finally get everything she really deserved. But that was yet to happen. 

“Oh, so you two didn’t even save me a seat,” Terrence called out, leaning over Peter’s body, his hands gripping onto the chairs on both sides of him. “Fuck you then!”

“It isn’t our fault,” Elton called back with a shrug, and of course, a smile. It was the end of year eleven that the two of them decided to give it a try, and from where Percy was sitting, everything was smooth sailing. And as much as he didn’t like Elton, he deserved some sort of win. 

“Yeah, this twat wouldn't move,” Marcus added, pointing to Isaac, who leaned forward with his eyebrows furrowed for a moment. Moments later, his mouth curved into a smirk. 

“Tell your mate I’ll move if he asks nicely,” Isaac told Terence with a wink. Every sign of amusement drained from Marcus’ face as he fell back again, admitting defeat, which was awfully strange for a guy who had unrelentingly bullied year sevens for years. Penelope huffs out a laugh, glancing between the three of them. 

“Now I have to sit next to this airhead,” Terence heaved a sigh, hands on the seat in front of him as he lowered himself into his own seat. 

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Oliver lectured.

Percy scoffed, leaning forward. He tilted his head to the side, pouting satirically. “Yeah, don’t talk to his boyfriend like that,” he said. Terence grinned, winking at Percy when they heard an annoyed sigh from Oliver. 

Gemma Farley was about the last one in their year to sit, followed by Eleanor and Ivy. 

Percy was sure that Gemma and Penelope were friends at some point, because during that same period of heightened happiness, he would always see them speaking. But Penelope denied it. She said that they weren’t friends. They just occasionally spoke. 

Gemma was quiet, and often kept to herself. Percy knew that she was close with Marcus. Their families knew each other, and oftentimes, he had found them always sitting beside each other since primary school. When Marcus became friends with Terence and Elton, she was always there too. They had always been a package deal, much like Penelope and Percy. They would follow each other throughout every season of life. The good and the bad.

Eleanor was similar, but she didn’t have many friends, except Ivy. Of course, Ivy, who was known to have no darkness, was always nearby. But they had been neighbours for years. Eleanor wanted to be alone. Percy saw it when she first came to the school. When the popular kids would walk up to her to make fun of her, she didn’t look hurt. She looked annoyed to have their presence around her. She evidently enjoyed her solitude. She possibly valued it. Percy wouldn’t know, because he had only ever had two conversations with her, and only when it was an obligation to do so.

He was sure he wouldn’t mind her. He thought he would even like her, and with the little interaction he had with her, he formed a concrete opinion that he did. 

And Ivy, with an unmatched kindness and heart, was one of the greatest people Percy had ever met. She was close to Penelope. Always was, and while they’re usually on opposite sides of the school, their friendship has persevered through any distance. She occasionally sat with them, and formed a close friendship with all three of them. But then again, she was friends with everybody. 

“Ah, finally someone decent!” Terence exclaimed with satisfaction, placing his hand on Gemma’s shoulder. Gemma smirked knowingly, leaning forward on her seat, and raising her eyebrows directly at Marcus. Marcus rolled his eyes, balling his hand into a fist, and leaving his middle finger up at her. She laughed, allowing her back to fall back to the seat again. 

The assembly commenced soon after, involving the school pledge, a prayer, and every introduction possible. Luckily, the first assembly was solely up to the teachers, and not the prefects. Percy was a prefect, and was beyond grateful that he didn’t have to speak at the first assembly of the year on the first day of year twelve. It was easy to relax, and tune out. 

It was hard to fully tune out with the boy he could not forget right beside him, and he had no spatial awareness in the slightest. He didn’t realise it, but he allowed his shoulder to rest however he liked that, and apparently that was against both Peter and Percy’s arms. At that moment, Percy let his eyes flutter shut, rubbing his fingers against his temples, and wishing that Oliver would get banished to his own area of the hall where he couldn’t bother Percy. 

~•~

After the assembly, they were sent to their form groups for the remainder of the hour, which their year often called home room. This was how many dynamics and relationships were born, and over the years, the class reduced in numbers when people decided to leave school, or transfer schools. Thankfully, Percy was with Penelope, and Isaac, and they always ensured Percy’s mornings weren’t bland. Not thankfully, he was stuck with Oliver. 

Penelope and Percy always sat beside each other, and Isaac always chose to sit next to Gemma, which was quite funny to Percy, considering Isaac and Marcus had been nonstop bickering for close to a year at that point. Isaac pushed the front legs of his chair up, leaning the back of it against Marcus’ desk, and Percy was sure it was just to annoy him. He knew that Isaac succeeded, because Marcus kept muttering words under his breath at Isaac, and Isaac remained smirking as though he had won a game nobody even knew he was playing.

Soon after, the bell for their first break sounded through the classroom, and they were let out. They made their way through the school, finding many confused and clueless year sevens attempting to navigate themselves through the school without knowing anything. Percy remembered that he always got so confused when he first arrived. The school looked like a maze to fresh eyes, which was why he was glad he was so far into his school years. He knew everything at that point.

Penelope and Percy find their table in the courtyard. They picked the spot one day in year ten, and have returned there every day since then. It became much easier for Isaac to find them after he went on his weird little side quests around the school. Sometimes Isaac loved being alone, and Percy understood. Isaac was outgoing, and could strike up a conversation with anybody within his reach, but sometimes, he looked so exhausted that he could collapse. So when he wasn’t around, Penelope and Percy didn’t really question it. 

“We have Snape again,” Penelope said, gripping each side of her paper timetable in her hand. She had always refused to look at her timetable online. She said that ruined the entire excitement, so she never looked at it before school began. She always waited for the physical copy. “For Chem.”

“He’s not that bad, honestly,” Percy shrugged, looking back up at her after shoving the paper into his own bag. He would really only be using his phone, so he didn’t need it. “He and McGonagall are my favourites.”

“Oh, me too,” Penelope agreed with a grin. “He always keeps Higgs, Ivory, and Flint in line.”

“Yeah, and Wood,” Percy added lazily, reaching into his bag for his lunch. He placed it on the table, and looked back up at Penelope. 

“Yeah,” she murmured, nodding her head slowly. She was still convinced that any positive emotion existed toward Oliver, but it didn’t. Nothing, except old feelings that he was reminded of on occasions. But it was nothing more than that. Everybody had a soft spot for their first love. 

“Those damn lines, I’m telling you now,” Isaac sighed loudly, throwing his bag onto the table, and placing his lunch in front of him. He shook his head, biting on his lip, and squinting his eyes. “I might just whack one of those year sevens over the head, and scare them into not going to the canteen line.”

“Christ, Isaac.”

“Well imagine it, the shorter lines, less foot traffic, and I wouldn’t have to shove that little shits out of my way,” he grinned, unwrapping the burger he had purchased. Penelope turned her head to Percy with tugging at one corner of her lip. Isaac looked back up, letting his hands fall beside him after taking a bite. “Anyway, Flint has, since, been looking at me like he wants to murder me.”

“He looks at everyone like he wants to murder them,” Percy laughed, running his hands through his hair as he pulled out his fork. 

“Or he’s giving you fuck me eyes, darling,” Penelope offered with unsettling optimism. 

“Nah, he’s just… a dick,” Isaac murmured, slowly twisting his head to Marcus and his group that sat on the table beside theirs. After Terence and Percy dated, they had grown used to sitting in that area, so they always chose to sit at that table. They had even bullied year sevens and eights into leaving it open for them every break, and clearly, it had been effective.

Percy’s eyes followed Isaac’s over to Marcus, who had Gemma’s head laying on his shoulder while she sprawled herself across the seat with a book resting on her stomach. Marcus’ eyes seemed to be laser focused on the table, avoiding lifting them anywhere. 

“I fear that I may be on Penelope’s side here,” Percy confessed with a shrug of one shoulder.  

“Weasley, you traitor,” Issac gasped, pushing back his shoulders.

“Well, he is definitely softer on you than he is on anybody else. If it was me, or Penelope, that wasn’t moving, he would keep going until we did.”

Isaac waved him off, clicking his tongue, and shaking his head as though this couldn’t be a possibility in the slightest. “Yeah, no, not gonna happen. Absolutely not. Let’s move on. Classes, classes, what did we pick?” 

“Well, I chose Music obviously,” Penelope announced. “English, Modern History, and Chemistry.”

“Oh, yes, me too,” Isaac told them. “Except I chose Math, not Modern History.”

“I chose all the same, but not Music, I chose Law.” 

“I’ve heard that so many people have struggled through that,” Isaac commented. 

“And how many of them include the guys you’ve hooked up with?” Percy asked, tilting his head to the side teasingly. 

Isaac smiled back, “Well, all of them. But my point still stands. It will test your will to live, Perce, and I want you to live.”

Percy laughed. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, Perce has never failed a class,” Penelope said, holding her hands up as though she was presenting Percy to an audience. “My boy is a genius.”

“Yes, he is,” Isaac declared, jumping from his seat to ruffle his hand through Percy’s hair. Percy squinted his eyes, crinkling his nose as Isaac dropped back to his seat. “I apologise for doubting you, pretty boy.”

“You’re forgiven,” Percy said, softly forming a grip around Isaac’s arm to keep it away. Isaac grinned, looking to the side before it slowly faded, and it let his arm fall beside him again. He cleared his throat, and sighed loudly, continuing to speak about his various hookups. But Percy couldn’t help but wonder if something was bothering him. If Isaac was keeping something a secret, and he never kept secrets. 

~•~

Percy had his back pressed against the brick wall of the classroom, staying beside Penelope and Isaac. In one singular day, all the work to rejuvenate the life inside him had been ripped away, leaving him silent with no more words to say. He flicked his wrist, watching as the seconds passed. But time always moves so much slower when you would prefer it to pass. That was something Percy had learned.

It was better, because not a single person dared to fuck around in Snape’s class, except Terence. But he almost had a free pass, because even Snape liked him. There was something about him that everybody liked. Even the one teacher who was impossible to win over, he had managed to make him smile on more than one occasion. But Percy always thought that it took a lot of sadness to make a person so willing to make everybody else happy. Terence loved making people laugh. Maybe because he lacked that everywhere else. 

When the door swung open, the entire class fell silent, waiting with their laptops, books and pencils underneath their arms, or folded between their arms and chest. 

“Hi Sir!” Terence said, breaking the silence that was shared throughout the whole class. 

Snape’s eyes dropped to him for a moment before sighing, “When you get inside, please stand to the right, so it will be easier for me to get through the process of showing you your assigned seats.”

“Assigned seats?” Terence cringed, folding his arms, and glancing at Marcus and Elton. “We literally never have assigned seats.”

“Well, I suppose that is literally going to change, Mr Higgs,” Snape drawled, gesturing toward their door to usher them all inside. Percy heard the annoyed grunts and whispers from across the class, but he didn’t say a word. He would still do well no matter who he was seated next to, and if it came to partner work, he could just go with Penelope. “Now, I’ll start from the front. We have Mr Higgs, and Mr Jones.”

Terence’s face screwed up, looking between Snape and Peter. “This has to be a joke,” he said bluntly, causing Percy to drop his head and bite on his lip to suppress his smile. Peter’s mouth fell slightly open, furrowing his eyebrows as though he was slightly offended. 

“Not a joke,” Snape replied, pointing at the table. Terence heaved a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes when he found Peter’s face. Peter followed closely behind him, sitting beside each other. “Miss Williams and Miss Violet—Miss Farley and Miss Clearwater.”

Percy’s heart sank a little when he heard Penelope’s name already called out, and he doubted Snape would ever put Isaac next to a person that he actually liked. Otherwise, he just wouldn’t shut up for the majority of the lesson. He was one of those people whose mouths move quicker than their thoughts, and it took slightly longer for it to catch up to the speed of the words pouring out of him. 

He leaned against the desktop, waiting for his name to be called out among the others. Elton was seated next to Archie Crimson. A boy Percy knew of, but never actually spoke to. He kept to his own little group, and never interacted with Percy’s circle, which often involved Penelope, Isaac, Marcus, Elton, Gemma, and Terence. 

Percy lifted his eyes to find three people surrounding him. It was between Marcus, Oliver, and Isaac, and God, he was praying for Isaac. Otherwise, he would be in for an awfully long year. 

“Mr Weasley and Mr Wood,” Snape said, pointing to the two tables at the back. Every past hope Percy once had faded as he found Oliver’s grinning face. Oliver pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, and headed promptly to his seat. Percy rolled his eyes and dropped his head back, unfortunately having no choice but to follow behind him. “And you two, Mr Winston and Mr Flint.”

You really would think Snape was sadistic in some way. Somehow, he managed to partner many people with the person they would hate to be with the most. Penelope got off easy, as well as Gemma, Ivy, and Eleanor. But Terence, Peter, Oliver, Isaac, and Marcus, as well as Percy, were each stuck with the person they would hate the most. 

Percy settled in his seat, tucking all of his belongings at the corner of his desk neatly. He glanced at Oliver’s, and noticed a missing pencil case, and Percy could predict his entire year at that point. Every Chemistry class would have Oliver asking for a pencil, or a pen, or a ruler, or a highlighter, because he couldn’t be bothered to bring his own inside. And not to mention it didn’t help Percy’s long road of moving on, and getting over his old, stupid crush on Oliver, because he was forced to sit beside him for the entire year. 

“What are you looking at?” Oliver asked with a smirk. Stupid smirk that somehow was always resting behind his lips. Percy rolled his eyes, and looked away from him. 

“Okay, now that we have that sorted, I would like to tell you more about this seating arrangement. I didn’t pick out these seats specifically. They were random names. For this year, your desk mate will be your partner in all your work. You will learn to work with people you don’t generally know, or speak to,” Snape explained, resulting in Terence’s arm shooting up. “No, Mr Higgs, you cannot switch if your partner agrees to. If anyone else asks, I will be giving you an extra credit project.”

Terence slowly lowered his arm while Percy’s hand flew up.

“In your case, Mr Weasley, I will take every extra credit assignment that I have planned for you,” Snape stated. 

“But…” Percy began, soon trailing off, because he knew there was no changing his mind, and speaking back to teachers wasn’t really his strong suit. 

“But this sucks!” Terence called out, to which Peter looked half-offended, but also like it didn’t bother him that much. Terence would likely complain about anybody sitting beside him if it wasn’t Elton, Marcus, or Gemma.

“No. No. You can whine all you like, but at the end of the day, different stages of your life exist to prepare you for the next. Life doesn’t treat everybody fairly. That is a fact. So, I have put you with people that you don’t usually work with. Not as a punishment, but preparation for a new world you will face when you leave here. So, you will have a small assignment due on Monday that you will work on in your pairs.”

Percy sank in his seat, resting his head against his hand that was perched on the table. Snape began explaining the assignment, and what was required of them. Percy, of course, listened, but he couldn’t help it when his mind began to wander away from him. He couldn’t help that he promised himself that this year would be a good one, and there had already been so many signs it would be going the other way. 

He had already been cheated on that year. And now, he was stuck beside Oliver. A name that every person who really knew Percy knew, too. 

“I cannot believe he is assigning a project on the first day,” Oliver whispered, leaning forward Percy. He shook his head, his eyes still glued to the front. “I have football. I need to practice. You know… important things.”

Percy’s eyebrows scrunched up as he looked over to him, and scoffed when he saw the seriousness on his face. “I seriously doubt kicking a ball around a field is… um… important.” 

“Well, I see your view hasn’t changed since eight years old,” Oliver commented, his nose crinkling. He blew out a breath of air as he sank back into his seat. “And for your information, it’s more than just kicking a ball.”

“What is it, then?” Percy asked, knowing he was going to say something stupid and unbelievable. 

“A lifeline,” Oliver stated. Percy rolled his eyes, and he couldn’t help as he began chuckling, and shaking his head. “Excuse me, just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean you get to laugh at me.”

“I really don’t care, Wood,” Percy informed him, pressing the side of his hand against the top of the table as he lifted his shoulders. “When you call football a lifeline in that serious tone and everything, it is laughable.”

“And that is extremely rude,” Oliver continued. Percy blinked, slowly turning his head. “You have your studying and whatever, and I have a sport. Marcus has drawing. Isaac has that stupid guitar of his. Everybody has their own thing. So who is to say which one is more… real?” 

“Are you seriously trying to tell me not to call football stupid, while simultaneously calling Isaac’s guitar stupid?” Percy asked with his eyebrows screwing up in frustration and confusion, and so many emotions that Percy was yet to understand. Oliver shrugged. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, a fucking idiot that you’re stuck with.” Oliver leaned toward him, poking his hand into his chest with pride. Idiot. Percy pursed his lip, grabbing Oliver’s arm as he yanked it away from him. “Well, you’re going to have to try to like me, because we do have to work together.”

“Could you please not torture me for just… five minutes?” Percy said quietly, lifting one leg over the other. If he was going to be stuck with Oliver, he could at least be comfortable. 

“How am I torturing you? I’m just speaking to you.”

“Exactly my point,” Percy nodded, placing his hand on Oliver’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze. Oliver glanced at his hand, and promptly turned his gaze back to Percy’s eyes. Percy pulled his hand back, feeling a sensation build up in his stomach. He ripped his eyes away from him, and slumped back in his seat. 

Old habits die hard. And his old feelings for Oliver continued to resurface, no matter how hard and deep he attempted to bury them. But habits could die if you tried hard enough, and Percy would try. 

Chapter Text

To put it simply, Oliver disliked his Chemistry partner, and he hadn’t liked him much since primary school. Since Percy looked him in the eye when they were eight, and told him he was stupid, he had formed a concrete opinion that he didn’t like him. And to make things more complicated, he hadn’t stopped thinking about him since year ten. From across halls full of people, classrooms, and the courtyard—he always knew where he was. 

There was just something… unforgettable about him. The way he always seemed so careless, and yet so unbelievably high strung. The way his hips constantly swayed when he walked as though he didn’t care much, but with grace that always told Oliver that he really did. And he was annoyingly intelligent. Oliver, many times, had answered a question wrong. Unfortunately, Percy was yet to ever be wrong. This should have made Oliver grateful to be his partner in Chemistry. But it definitely didn’t. 

Because now, he was stuck working with a person who wanted nothing to do with him, and he ensured that he made that very clear. But Oliver wasn’t willing to fail the class, and he knew Percy wasn’t either, so he made the decision to approach him as he walked into school. It wasn’t the first time he ever had. He had struck up many conversations with Percy that never lasted that long, because Percy refused to say anything more than a sentence. 

Percy’s backpack rested on his shoulders with headphones covering his ears. There was always a little dent in his hair now, because he wore them so much. It wasn’t too noticeable, but after knowing a person for years, it became easy to see when there was a slight change in them. Oliver was surprised he wasn’t half-deaf by now honestly. 

“Hey!” He called out, jogging to catch up. “Percy!” He said again, holding his hand up to wave. Percy twisted his head to the side, finding Oliver approaching him. He rolled his eyes, and kept walking. Well, Oliver had always loved a good challenge. He sighed, and sped up, embarrassingly jogging until he reached him. “Hey.” 

Percy glanced at him with his shoulders sinking, and jerking his head to the other side. “What?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Oliver grinned, folding his arms. “You know what’s funny, I called your name, you looked directly at me, and started walking quicker.”

“Yes, I was ignoring you,” Percy informed him with a sarcastic smile.

“Yes, of course you were, because you’re a dickhead,” Oliver grinned, nodding his head. He nudged him softly. “I do know that. I’ve known that for years. However, we are doing an assignment together unfortunately, so we will need to work together.”

“I’ll just do it by myself,” Percy mumbled, shaking his head.

“Nope.”

“No?” His face screwed up, snapping his head to Oliver as though he was surprised. As though somebody promising they would do the work with him was a shock. For years, everybody hoped they would get partnered with Percy, because they knew he would do it all before they even had to ask. Oliver wasn’t one of those people.

“No, you are not doing it by yourself,” Oliver explained, jumping in front of Percy to stop him from moving any further. Percy paused, like he couldn’t believe his nerve, staring up at him through narrowed eyes. “I take pride in my work, and my efforts. Just because I deem it less important than football doesn’t mean I don’t try, so we are working on it together, whether you and stubbornness disagree.”

“Of course,” Percy murmured, wiping his hand through his hair. “Just… of course.”

“So, could we exchange numbers, so we can decide on a time to do it?” Oliver asked with a nervous smile. 

Percy slowly turned his head up to Oliver, and began to sigh when he seemed to find that Oliver was serious “Eugh. This is it for me. I’m going to throw myself off a cliff.”

“Bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” Oliver tilted his head to the side with a grin. 

“Not even in the slightest,” Percy muttered, pushing against Oliver’s shoulder to move swiftly past him. 

Oliver spun around as his shoulder was pushed back. He created a circle with his hands, locking his fingers around each other, straightening his back. “See you in chemistry then!” 

Percy momentarily turned his head back, finding that Oliver hadn’t moved. He shook his head, and rolled his eyes to stare at the ground again. His usual, of course. If anybody could avoid anyone, it would be Percy. But if anybody could find someone, that would be Oliver. And Percy truly believed that he disliked Oliver, but Oliver was sure he could turn that plane back around. 

Many people loved Oliver. Really, they did. Everybody would joke that he was the babysitter of all the children, because all the year sevens had looked up to him. He had been asked out numerous times in the past year by different people. He never went out with any of them, because he had always viewed dating as a distraction from what really mattered. But despite that, people still liked him. 

Percy was never that easy. Usually Oliver could flash a smile, and be adored, admired, and trusted by all. By most, of course, because no matter what Oliver did, Percy hated it. It was really all in good fun, but something shifted around year eight. Oliver could never pinpoint exactly what happened, or exactly what changed, but the shift was undeniable and hard to miss. 

Every other part of his life ran smoothly. He had Peter, who had been his best friend since they were eight, and he had football, and they had remained undefeated for three years in a row. They had the same team as the years before, so he suspected that it would go the same way it had always gone. Some games were more difficult than others, but they always resulted at the top.

Oliver was the striker, up front, and responsible for many goals. Marcus Flint was up there with him, and when they were on the field, all the hatred and anger they felt toward each other faded away. As soon as they stepped over those white lines, there was always an agreement between them to work together. They hated each other pretty much everywhere else, but winning was the one thing they had in common, and it was great they were working on the same team—always the same objective.

“Hello, earth-to-Oliver,” Peter said, waving one hand in front of Oliver’s face, while swinging his other around Oliver’s shoulders. Everybody always said that they were bound to stop being friends when they got to high school—when their opposite personalities began to create a rift in them, but it never really did. Once they were together, they breathed in sync. Every breath in, every breath out—it was simply done together. “You were staring.”

“Yeah, I got distracted,” Oliver told him, cheeks turning warm as he realised exactly what he was staring at. He had always believed that hatred can present itself as obsession. He had learned that from Marcus. He just never wanted to seem obsessed with Percy of all people. Peter turned around, and curled up an eyebrow. “Don’t say anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” Peter nodded, tugging him along. “But be grateful that you aren’t stuck with Terence. He has a vendetta against me.”

Oliver chuckled, glancing at Peter, and shaking his head. “You think everybody has a vendetta against you. Remember you said that Marcus had one, and Penelope, and Gemma, and Eleanor.”

Peter sighed, dropping his head. “I must have a punchable face,” he joked, lifting his hand to the back of his neck, and letting it swing beside his body moments later. Oliver grinned. “But I’m actually not exaggerating this one. He finds a way to tell me all of my flaws in every sentence, and it’s different every time. And I would like to be mad, but his creativity is admirable.”

“See, that’s why I like him better in groups,” Oliver informed him, and Peter mouthed an ah while nodding his head. 

“Mate, you started hating him the second Percy started dating him,” Peter told him, which wasn’t entirely a lie. When Percy began dating him, Oliver was really shaken to his core. He would stare at them across the courtyard, finding it unbelievable that Percy hated him, but then went on to actually like Terence. It lasted for a few months before they broke up, and when Oliver heard, he could’ve sworn he gasped a breath of fresh air. The world didn’t seem right when Percy was with Terence.

“Well Terence was my teammate, fraternising with the enemy,” Oliver continued. “I don’t stand with traitors.”

“Yeah, how could you possibly cope with your friend getting with your boyfriend?” Peter laughed, telling that joke for about the hundredth time. The entire year had made this joke. That he and Percy were a married couple, because they bickered like one. In front of others, Peter always jumped on the defence. When it was the two of them, he found no harm in teasing him. 

Oliver groaned, throwing back his head as his hands balled into fists. “When will you let that go? He hates me, you know. Like, every time he speaks to him, he treats me as though I was the reason his childhood pet died or something."

“The art of flirting,” Peter said, holding his hands in two L shapes as though he was illustrating a frame. Oliver breathed out loudly, and dramatically. Peter grinned, patting his back, “I’m kidding. You know that.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, because everybody knew Percy disliked him. He turned as he found the door of his form group classroom. He glanced back at Peter before saying, “I do.”

Peter tapped his shoulder as they walked inside. Of course, the first face he found every time was Percy’s, who was sitting beside Penelope, leaning back in his chair with his eyes shut as though he was picturing himself still in his bed. Penelope’s back was pressed against the wall with her foot perched up beside Percy’s thigh. She grinned, and chuckled as though whatever Percy was saying was absolutely hilarious. Even Percy was biting back a smile. He always bit down on his lip when he attempted to suppress one. 

Oliver rolled his eyes, and looked away, because really, what could possibly be that funny? What could Percy Weasley possibly say that made somebody laugh in such a genuine way? Oliver was constantly chuckling around him, because well, he was funny. But he was funny in the way that everything that he said surprised Oliver. It would never be boring around him. 

He walked through the classroom, catching Percy’s eye for a moment before Percy quickly looked back at Penelope, pointing at her laptop screen. And Oliver was still yet to understand his problem. Oliver wasn’t an inherently bad person. He couldn’t have done anything that would make a person specifically hate him. But he kept walking anyway, finding his way back to the seat he picked out on the first day. 

After a few days, everybody had their designated seats of choice as though it was an unspoken rule everyone shared between them. Penelope and Percy sat next to each other in every class. Ivy always found her way to Eleanor, no matter how much this seemed to displease her. Isaac sat next to Gemma, and Marcus, Elton, and Terence refused to go anywhere without each other. Gemma was close to them, too. She just wasn’t as insufferable as they were.  

He dropped his bag beside him, softly hitting against the legs of Isaac’s table, to which he pushed it back with his foot, and winked at Oliver. It was as though the flirting was drilled into him. So far that it came naturally. Even to people he really didn’t like. Oliver dropped his eyes, reaching into his bag for his own laptop to distract him for just a few moments before his classes commenced. 

“Could you get off my fucking table?” Marcus hissed at Isaac. He laid back in his seat without anything on his own table, except Isaac’s back, of course. Oliver understood Marcus in these moments, because even at eighteen years old, he had a habit of pushing his chair up to annoy whoever was sitting behind him. His most recent victim was evidently Marcus. 

“Make me, Flint,” Isaac grunted, glancing back at him before turning back to the front lazily. 

Marcus’ shoulders sank before he leaned forward. “I swear to god, I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Isaac said, grabbing onto the back of his chair to twist his body around, facing Marcus. “Threaten me like you do everyone else, and never end up doing anything?”

“I don’t do anything, because they generally listen to me,” Marcus replied, which was half-true. Because Marcus often did things. He delivered on each of his promises, but most people knew this at that point, so they never really challenged him. So maybe it was good Isaac was there to do that. It might even humble him. 

“Yes, well, fuck you,” Isaac murmured, turning back around. Gemma glanced between the two of them as though she knew some secret nobody else knew, but that was usually the case with her. There was something behind her eyes, and it seemed to be knowing the fate of everybody else. 

Oliver’s eyes shifted, finding Percy watching Isaac and Marcus too, lifting his eyebrows at Isaac. Oliver tightly squeezed his jaw, because Isaac really wasn’t that different from him. They were similar in many ways, but Percy liked Isaac, and he hated Oliver. And it just made no sense to him. If anything, Oliver was just the nicer version of Isaac. 

He didn’t know why he cared so much, but he couldn’t help the fact that he really did. 

~•~

Oliver found himself looking forward to Chemistry all day. He really was, because every time he glanced at the time, he noticed that it was just one minute closer to Chemistry, and one minute closer to seeing Percy, and he could convince him that he really wasn’t that bad. And because they’re partners on the assignment, and they actually do need to work together, of course.

He stepped into the classroom following Peter, and didn’t have to search through the other faces to find the one he was looking for. He knew where he was—where Percy was, who sucked in a deep breath, and blinked slowly as though he was wishing Oliver’s presence away. Luckily, it didn’t work, and it never worked. It was only a matter of time until Percy realised that he was likeable. 

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” Oliver announced as he sat beside Percy, placing his laptop and book on the table. He never brought a pencil case. He always had one pen in his pocket, because he didn’t need much more than that. There was no point adding unnecessary weight into his bag just so it could fuck up his back. 

“Yes, we are in the same class, Wood,” Percy mumbled, digging his lidded pen into the table as he waited for the class to commence. His eyes were glued to the front of the room. “We were, unfortunately, partnered up, because for some reason, God is punishing me.”

“Or, is he really blessing you?” Oliver offered, perking up as he grinned. He leaned closer to Percy, holding a hand out to get his point across. “You know, providing some light to your miserable little life.”

“I despise you,” Percy told him flatly. “I hope that there is a special spot in hell for you where you have to suffer ten times more than the rest of them.”

“Yes, well, I’m clearly already in it,” Oliver said, holding both of his arms up as he gestured around the room. He let his mouth fall open as he pointed a finger at Percy. He tilted his head to the side, “And look who is here with me, Percy Weasley, my partner who hates me for no reason.”

“For no reason?” Percy scoffed. “I have a list of reasons to hate you.”

“Oh, you spend that much time on me, do you?” Oliver teased. “Go on, pull it up, read it out.”

“Not a physical list, you moron,” Percy said, finally looking over to Oliver. A smile spread widely across Oliver’s face, raising his eyebrows to urge him to continue. Percy narrowed his eyes, and glared at him. “A mental list that you keep adding points onto. For one, you’re unbelievably arrogant and obnoxious. You’re daft. Shallow. And you prioritise a sport over important things.”

“Well, it is important,” Oliver said back. 

“Of course that’s what you take away from that,” Percy sighed, pushing his fingers through his hair as he dropped his head forward. He looked back up with his hands sinking back to the desk. “Did you not hear the four other insults?”

“I did hear them,” Oliver nodded. “I’ve just learned to tune them out by now.”

“Right,” Percy whispered as the room darkened and the screen at the front lit up. He slid down in his seat, resting his cheek on his hand, and Oliver rested his hands on the table, cracking his knuckles as quietly as he could while Snape spoke. Snape was hyper vigilant about everything. Absolutely nothing got past him. 

His eyes struggled to stay open in this light. Something about a screen light blaring into his eyes while surrounded by darkness reminded him of when he was going to bed at night. It made him so sleepy that all he could do was sit back in his chair, and try to stay awake until Snape ordered them to do something. Until then, he forced his eyes open, and possibly annoyed Percy in the process.

“So, the project,” Oliver began in a low murmur, keeping his eyes glued to Snape to ensure he wouldn’t get yelled at in front of the entire class. Percy blinked harder than usual, so Oliver knew he was listening. “We should exchange numbers, so we can sort everything out. Like when we’re actually going to do it, and that sort of thing.”

“Will it get you to shut the fuck up?” Percy asked. 

“Yes, possibly,” Oliver replied with a grin. 

“Fine,” Percy decided, opening up his book, and glancing up at Snape once more before scribbling numbers on a piece of paper. Oliver smiled softly, watching as his hand glided gracefully across the paper. He glanced at him, and slid it across the table. Just as Oliver was able to take it, Percy pulled it back, and looked at him. “No misusing it.”

“No, of course not,” Oliver whispered back, and Percy loosened his previous grip on it, dropping his back to the seat again. Oliver bit down on his lip, reading the numbers. “What does misusing it mean?” 

“Being annoying,” Percy said. “And I know you will struggle with that, but give it a go, yeah?” 

“Arsehole,” Oliver chuckled quietly. 

Percy lifted his shoulder as though he took a great amount of pride in it, and Oliver smiled as he looked back to the front. 

~•~

The rest of Chemistry went quite well. He and Percy, of course, continued to bicker until the bell went, but Oliver thought he made some worthwhile, notable progress on his mission to make Percy not hate him. Percy actually gave him his number. Well, Oliver thought he did. He hadn’t called or texted quite yet, so he supposed he would properly find out when he worked out the words to say to him. 

But once the final bell went, signalling the end of the school day, he was filled with excitement. He had football training, and every single day he had football was his favourite, which was almost every day. Tuesday and Thursday, he trained with the team, and Friday, his father trained with him. Saturday was game day, and he usually filled the rest of his free time fulfilling his obligations, and more training. 

Oliver got his license over the summer, meaning he was able to drive himself and Peter wherever they wished. Which also meant that they could go straight to training after school. It was their first time back at training after the summer, and the first time he was ever able to drive to training after school. And as they exited the car, they found Marcus and Terence sitting against the fence with a cigarette between Marcus’ lips.

Oliver didn’t know how his lungs hadn’t collapsed yet. Playing soccer and being a smoker who constantly had a cigarette within his reach seemed like an awful lot for a single pair of lungs to take, but it didn’t seem to affect him very much. 

“Why are you here so early?” Oliver called out, walking toward them with a duffle bag hanging from his shoulder. “You’re never here around this time.”

“I drove us,” Marcus told him before taking another drag from the cigarette.

Oliver cringed. “Doesn’t that fuck up your lungs?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. 

Marcus rolled his eyes, running his tongue over his lips as Oliver and Peter sat on the concrete across from them. “Well, I’ve done just fine the past two years, so I think I’m good, Wood.”

“Well, what were you talking about before?” Peter asked. 

“That stupid seating plan in Chemistry,” Terence answered, sliding one foot across the dirt, with his arms wrapped around one leg. He sighed. “It’s bloody Hell. It’s almost like he wanted to torture me.” 

“I’m right here, Higgs,” Peter said, curling his lip, and furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Good,” Terence teased, poking his tongue out at him. Peter picked up a small twig, jokingly holding it up as though he was going to throw it at him. Terence lifted his arms over his head with a laugh, sliding his back down the fence. 

“Well, you can’t really complain about your partners when I’m the one stuck with fucking Isaac Winston,” Marcus stated with smoke billowing from his mouth as he spoke. 

“He’s insufferable, honestly,” Peter commented. Oliver glanced at him, resting his chin on his knee. “In year eight, we were walking through the hall, and he put out his leg, and tripped me.”

Terence cackled as though it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, and threw his head back. “Oh, I love that guy,” he said with a beam. 

“Yes, well, easy to say when you’re not the one stuck with him,” Marcus mumbled, squinting his eyes at the ground as if there were a million other thoughts running through his mind that he refused to speak aloud. And the majority of the time, that was the case. Marcus was the most secretive person Oliver had ever met, holding all of his secrets close to his heart, constantly rejecting anybody who wanted to take a look inside. 

That was why Marcus was such a difficult person to figure out, because everything Oliver truly knew about him came from rumours. Rumours about him, rumours about his family, and his sister. He had never bothered to deny or confirm them, which made Oliver think that some of them were true, and some of them were so outrageous that there was no point in engaging with them. The problem was actually picking those two scenarios apart, and understanding which one really applied. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he would actually want to.

The only thing that Oliver really knew about Marcus was that he liked smoking, and he liked football. He doubted that sometimes. 

“You’re hardly stuck with him, Marcus,” Terence joked, nudging him. “I see the way you flirt right back with him.”

“Flirt?” Oliver questioned, his face screwing up. 

“Yes, prude, flirting,” Terence continued. “It is this thing people do when they fancy each other.”

“I know what flirting is, dickhead,” Oliver said back with a grimace, and looked back over to Marcus. “I just don’t understand how threatening each other is flirting.”

“Right, because you and Weasley don’t sit there flirting,” Terence said. Peter tensed up, staring at Terence, and shaking his head as though that was a stupid thing to say. And really, it was a stupid thing to say. 

“We don’t,” Oliver informed him matter of factly. “He just sits there listing all my flaws.”

“Yes, which is what he did to me a few weeks before we dated for a few months in year eleven,” Terence told him, gesturing his hand around like he was insinuating something specific, and Oliver knew exactly what he was implying. He just couldn’t really imagine a reality where that was the truth. 

“Not the same thing,” Oliver replied, shaking his head softly. He exhaled, blinky slowly. “He’s been doing that to me since we were six.”

“So maybe he’s always liked you,” Terence shrugged. 

Oliver shook his head. “Nah. Try saying that to him, and he’d absolutely deck you.”

“Perce and I are friends,” Terence said. “He’d probably just insult me.”

“What?” Oliver asked, like Terence’s had crashed into him like a tough ocean wave. “You’re still friends? Even after you broke up?”

“Well, it was a little under a year ago, Wood, and we didn’t end on bad terms. We just both liked somebody else. I started dating Elton, and he started dating somebody else.”

“Who did he like?” He asked again, because he already knew who Terence liked, but he had never heard of Percy liking anybody other than Terence. 

“I don’t know, man. Some guy that moved here at the beginning of the year,” Terence explained, pushing his fingers through his hair. He shrugged his shoulders, and stared back at him. “Why? You jealous?”

“No, I am not jealous,” Oliver grunted, and jumped from the ground feeling as irritation and frustration washed over him. He didn’t care to know much more about Marcus, but Percy Weasley was another mystery he was yet to solve, and he found that he would really like to. He glanced back, watching as Coach Hooch exited her car, appearing pleased as she found the four of them. “I am going to help Coach instead of sitting around here doing nothing.”

“Alright,” Terence mumbled, a smile spreading across his lips as he glanced at Marcus. Marcus threw his cigarette to the side, crushing it with one foot.

The three boys followed Oliver, making their way to the clubhouse to wait for Hooch. It became a routine for them. Marcus and Terence were never there earlier than Oliver, but they did come slightly earlier. After all, they had been with her the longest, and they were basically her own children.

As she grew closer to them, she paused, sniffing around the area, and narrowed her eyes at Marcus. She raised her eyebrows, and placed her hands on her hips. “Flint, how many times do I have to tell you to give that shit up?” She asked, because she was a no-nonsense woman, and didn’t take anybody’s shit.

“I’d honestly give up, Coach,” Terence said with a laugh, tapping Marcus’ back. “But when he collapses during a game out of pure exhaustion, we will know what it is.”

“That’s exactly right,” Hooch nodded. “And it’s too much paperwork for me, so stop it.”

“Eh,” Marcus shrugged carelessly, like he didn’t care if his body really did give out. If self-destruction was a person, it would be Marcus. He wasn’t always unhappy. When they first met, Marcus was exactly like Terence. Oliver also noticed how quiet he got when his father was around, and how he’d flinch from a slight movement in his father. Then, it was hard to really hate him. It was harder to hate someone who really only hated themselves. “What’d you want us to set up”

“Well, it’s the first training back, so there will be many people coming in to buy what they need, so I will need some help in here until your training begins,” she explained, sticking the key into the door of the main part of the clubhouse. “There will be paperwork, transactions, and I’ll need one or two of you to go unlock everything, and check the bathrooms for me.”

“Pete and I will unlock everything,” Oliver volunteered, stepping forward. 

“Okay, thanks, Wood,” she said, chucking the keys to him as she entered through the door while Terence and Marcus followed in behind her. 

Oliver nudged Peter, grabbing his bag for him to throw it into the room with them, and moved to begin unlocking the clubhouse. This was a tradition for them, and it had been for a few years now. Being the four people at the club who had been there the longest had its perks, as well as having its own obligations. 

Oliver never minded. He loved being there, and so did his parents, who were both close to Hooch. They had been since their own days as players, and Oliver was beyond grateful that Hooch never gave up on the club, because he couldn’t have imagined anybody else as their coach, and the club’s manager. It would have been an entirely different experience, and he probably wouldn’t have fallen in love with football the way he did if she wasn’t there. 

It was his second home. In his free time, his feet led him back there. Knowing the history of his parents, and the past twelve years of his own life, he had the same amount of memories as he had accumulated in his own house. Marcus and Oliver had been teammates since they were six. When he was eight, Peter joined the club with him, and when they were ten, Terence joined them. Everybody came and went, but the four of them stuck there. It wouldn’t be the same without any of them. 

While they had always been in entirely different groups at school with Oliver and Peter drifting to the popular crowd, and Marcus and Terence retreating to the opposite, nothing ever changed there, and Oliver would count on that consistency always. They were all talented players in their own positions. Marcus and Oliver were together in the front. Peter was the goalkeeper, and Terence was centre back.

“So,” Peter began as Oliver opened the door of one of the bathrooms. “I spoke to Penelope today. Or, I mean, she spoke to me.”

Peter had had a crush on her for a while at that point. It was so obvious from where Oliver was sitting. Whenever she was around, he stumbled over his words, his face resembled something of a tomato, and he would always find ways to slip her casually into conversation. He told Oliver last year, but Oliver understood why it had snuck up on him so late. After knowing a person for years, it was hard to pick out when a crush bloomed among those years. It was easier to pick out from the sidelines, which was where Oliver always was when it came to romance.

He saw exactly when Elton and Terence’s feelings began to shift from a friendship to something more. He saw the moment when Peter began liking Penelope. He saw Ivy and Eleanor’s existing tension. And he saw as Percy had a few different boyfriends over time. He recalled year ten when he ran into him at the basketball bathroom, and he shared eye contact with a boy, who he followed a few moments after Oliver left—He had coined him as Year Eleven Guy. He saw him across the courtyard holding hands with Terence, and now, he found out that he had broken up with Terence, because they both liked different people.

Oliver had never fallen in love. He had seen his peers interact with each other. He had seen them develop crushes on each other, and speak to each other, and he always found it gross. Of course, he had gone out with a few people. But when he had ‘gone out’ with these people, he had been broken up with in a couple of days, because they were all so young, and he forgot to speak to them, because he was so wrapped up in football. He gave up when he realised football was all he was willing to commit to. 

“Oh yeah?” Oliver grinned, wiggling an eyebrow at Peter. “How’d it go?”

“Well, we were in the canteen line, and when she saw me, she asked how everything was going at school, and I didn’t fuck it up this time. I remained calm, and we had a proper conversation until we reached the front.”

Oliver gasped, and hit a hand into Peter’s chest. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this earlier?” He asked. “That’s good news. Maybe this is the year you’ll grow a set of balls, and ask her out.”

“Or maybe she’ll ask me out,” Peter winked. 

“She hasn’t even said that she likes you, yet. What if she thinks you don’t like her?” 

“I’ve made it very obvious over the past year, and I think she caught on,” he laughed. “But she doesn’t have that boyfriend anymore.”

“Oh yeah, Derek, wasn’t it? Some guy who went to Beauxbatons?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded with the same smile he had only when he was talking about her. Peter was the only person that wasn’t entirely sickening when he spoke about Penelope, so Oliver never minded. “I just sort of casually slipped it into the conversation, and asked her how things were going with Derek, and she said they broke up over the summer. And I said, oh no, that’s terrible, and she said, yeah, not that terrible.”

“That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” Oliver asked. After all his observations from the sideline, that had to be a good sign, he thought. He scrunched up his eyebrows, leaving the key in the lock as he paused to look over to Peter, “Maybe she actually does like you.”

“Why are you saying that as if it’s shocking?” Peter questioned, folding his arms as though he took offence to this. 

“Oh, it’s not shocking.” Oliver waved his hand dismissively, resuming his task of unlocking every door. He lifted his shoulders. “You’re a pretty guy. She’s a pretty girl. You’d make a pretty great pair.”

“She is beautiful,” Peter said, staring into the dance, and spacing off as if he was picturing her face, or recalling a memory of his own. Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, slightly peeved that Peter hadn’t listened to his joke. 

~•~

Getting take-out after their training was another tradition of theirs. Just Peter and Oliver, not Marcus and Terence, who both went home after training finished. The night was quite successful with many registrations, and everything running smoothly until they began training. By then, there were others to help out in the clubhouse, and continued to run perfectly. Overall, Oliver believed that it was a great night, and they arrived at the restaurant.

A new restaurant they had never been to. It was a small business that opened around two years ago, and Oliver had never heard anything negative about it, so he and Peter decided to give it a try. Even if they didn’t like it, at least they would know for the future, and know they weren’t missing out on anything too amazing. 

As soon as he walked inside, a grin grew on his lips, because there he was again. Percy Weasley in all-black clothes and an apron, staring into space at the register. By this time of night, everybody would be at home getting ready for bed, and Percy looked as though he wished he was there again. Oliver glanced at Peter with a smile as he led the way.

Not far from Percy was Isaac, who leaned against the counter with his hands against the bench, and was seemingly going into excruciatingly deep detail about the guys he had met over the break. Percy was nodding along, his eyelids drooping as he wiped his fingers over his forehead.

“Hi,” Oliver said, resulting in silence from Isaac as he turned around, and there was not a single sign of shame or embarrassment, considering what he had been talking about moments before.

“Eugh, what do you want?” Percy grunted, pressing on the screen of the register. 

“Wow, is this how you treat every paying customer, Percy?” Oliver asked, leaning his folded arms onto the bench top as he stared up at him.

“Only the irritating, ugly ones,” Percy answered with a sarcastic grin. 

“Did you hear what he just said about us, Peter?” Oliver said, holding their eye contact. Lately, they had been placed beside each other. Oliver had only seen him from the side lately, and to Percy’s credit, he had quite a nice side profile. But again, unfortunately to his credit, he had a nice face, too, and he understood why Isaac had always called him pretty boy.

Percy blinked, shaking his head. “No, I was saying it about you. Peter is, er… quiet enough, unlike you. I wonder if being quiet for longer than five seconds would kill you.”

“I think pleasing you would kill me,” Oliver replied, tilting his head to the side. 

“In what ways?” Isaac said, earning a look from both of them. As they found him, he was smirking, and wiping down a cup as he winked.

“Isaac,” Percy muttered through gritted teeth. Oliver looked away from Isaac, shifting his gaze back to Percy, who was clearly embarrassed. A bright pink colour possessed his cheeks, and refused to meet Oliver’s eyes again. Oliver smiled, biting on his bottom lip. 

“What?” Isaac asked with an innocent shrug of his shoulders “Someone had to ask. Just saying.”

Percy rolled his eyes with a soft shake of his head as his eyes returned to Oliver. “Yes, well, what do you want, Wood?”

“A hot chocolate,” Oliver stated.

“A hot chocolate? Really?” Percy teased, chewing on his bottom lip as he did when he was trying to hide a smile. Of course, he would never allow Oliver to have the satisfaction half the time. But Oliver had known him too long to miss the small things.

Oliver nodded. “Yes, caffeine can lead to anxiety, insomnia, and a higher blood pressure and heart rate, and I’m an athlete, so I can’t risk it,” he explained as Percy nodded along, tilting his head to the side as though he found Oliver entertaining. Oliver looked around, finding two cookies in the glass. “And one of those cookies, please.”

“Oh yeah, those look good,” Peter added. “I’ll have the same, except I do drink coffee, so I’ll have a coffee.”

“Well, at least you’re normal,” Percy answered as Oliver slid the money across the countertop, and his mind drifted away from him, back to the moment Terence offered a different perspective that maybe Percy had liked him the entire time. “Thanks. Just wait over there.”

“Will do,” Oliver replied, gently bumping his shoulder into Peter’s as they walked away. 

But Terence’s comment didn’t make much sense. He said that Percy had done the same thing a few weeks before they started dating. Percy had been doing it to Oliver since they met. If something was going to happen, it would’ve happened long ago. He narrowed his eyes, staring at Percy as he made the coffee, and Isaac stood on the other side, making the hot chocolate. 

Percy stared at the machine, muttering responses to Isaac every couple of moments, and occasionally paused to glare at him. Isaac gently tapped his side, clearly teasing him about something, and Oliver knew this, because he acted the same way when he was teasing somebody. Which again begged the question, why was Percy so fond of Isaac, while simultaneously hating Oliver?

Terence’s suggestion was impossible, really. They just always liked pissing each other off, and that was all it was ever going to surmount to in Percy’s eyes. But in Oliver’s eyes, they would become friends. He knew it. Everybody always came around eventually, and this was going to be the year that Percy did, too. Mark his words.

Chapter Text

There was no Chemistry for the remainder of the week, thankfully. Percy had just about enough of his interactions with Oliver throughout the past few days, and he was getting tired of being around him, and feeling the old emotions he had tried so hard to leave in the past resurface. So that day was a better day than others. Penelope was catching the bus again, and no more Oliver. 

He had his headphones pushing against his ears, zoning out as he stared out the window of the bus, waiting for Penelope. Ginny had made her own friends already, which hardly came as a surprise to him. She always made friends quickly, so he didn’t think high school would really be that different for her. There was the boy Oliver had mentioned as his family friend, Colin, and another girl, Luna Lovegood that Ginny had mentioned. 

The bus came to a stop as Penelope came into clearer view as the only person waiting at the bus stop. She grinned at the bus driver, making her way through the sea of people. She was always in an unsettlingly good mood in the morning. But for some reason, he felt as though there was a cause for it. Percy lifted his bag with a smile, moving his headphones to his neck as she sat beside him. 

“Why, hello, darling,” she said, beaming, and placing her bag on top of her own lap. 

“Hey Pen,” he replied, twisting his body to face her, because she clearly had more to say. He raised his eyebrows as he encouraged her to continue. 

“So, I spoke to Peter yesterday,” she explained, running her fingers down her hair, and placing it behind her shoulder. “You know Peter Jones.”

“Yes, of course I know him,” he chuckled with his eyebrows wrinkling up. “We’ve known him for years, but yeah, what about him?”

“Yes, well, I spoke to him,” she stated plainly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and I just asked him how everything was going for him so far, because I mean… I was standing in the line, so I thought why not? And he said everything’s going pretty well, and then he asked me, and I said the same. And he asked me about Derek, and obviously, I told him we broke up. And he said that’s terrible, but he was kind of smiling when he said it.”

It wasn’t really a secret that Peter liked Penelope. The only person who wasn’t able to see it was her. “Oh, he definitely likes you,” he told her with a laugh, dropping his eyes to the ground. 

“Wait, do you think so?” Penelope asked, showing a surge of excitement growing in her body.

“Oh my god, you like him!” Percy gasped, almost jumping off his own seat due to excitement. He had been waiting, and waiting, and waiting for Penelope to find a decent guy that would treat her like a person. Peter was the perfect option for that. 

“No—no, I just… I just think he would be a good friend,” she answered shyly, blushing as she tucked strands of her hair behind her shoulder. 

“I don’t care if you like him, you know,” he told her. “I don’t like Oliver, but Peter seems decent enough, and a lot better than Derek anyway.”

“Okay, yes, fine, I do,” she confessed with a smile slowly emerging again. “I really do.”

“How cute?” He teased, shaking his shoulder against hers. 

“Oh, shut up,” she said, pushing him back against the wall. She turned to him as her expression reflected merriment. She jerked an eyebrow up. “We could totally do double dates.” 

“And who would I bring on those dates?” He asked with a short-lived laugh. 

The truth was he knew exactly what she was implying, and who she was implying. And while those feelings for Oliver had never fully disappeared, they just weren’t there anymore, and he didn’t want them to be either. He gave up on any chance with Oliver years ago, which was why he had a few boyfriends since then. Because he knew it was a waste of time to ponder on all of it. What could’ve been. It was a stupid thought, because there would always be a new guy. 

And Percy was going to steer away from dating anyway. Getting cheated on was enough to make him back away from that scene, and he wasn’t going to get back into it for Oliver Wood, his first (and unreciprocated) love, who was also unbelievably insufferable when he wanted to be. So no, whatever double dates Penelope was dreaming up, he didn’t want any part in. 

“Your future boyfriend,” she said as though she had read his mind. She lifted up her arm, gesturing into the distance. “Distant future.” 

“Not Oliver,” he told her in a low mumble. 

“I didn’t say it.”

“But you were thinking it, and no,” he added. 

After you feel as though you caught lightning in a bottle, a rare and pure form of love, and watch it disappear from your grasp, it is hard to imagine that you could ever be able to feel that again. Especially when the chance of getting hurt is almost a promise in teenage love. And he had imagined it. Letting those feelings come back. But if Oliver was the one who inflicted that damage, it would be so much worse. 

Because as insufferable and irritating as he was, he was still a good guy. And it was always so much worse being hurt by a good person, because it became harder to believe that you weren’t the problem. They never meant to hurt you. They just didn’t love you, and the truth was as simple as that. Percy didn’t want to go through another heartbreak. Not after enduring one that turned his word askew, because he felt like he might never trust again. 

When Percy first met him, Ethan had said everything right. He spoke with such grace and patience and respect, and it was impossible to think he was capable of administering that much pain on another person. But as time grew on, resentment leaked through the cracks of their relationship, but Ethan reassured him every time that he still loved him. That he still wanted him. That was, of course, until he found him in bed with another stranger. 

Sometimes when Percy blinked, he could still see it. The sight of the poor girl’s face, and the little remorse that reflected on Ethan’s. Percy didn’t give him an opportunity to explain himself. He blocked him on everything, and avoided all of their old favourite spots that Ethan had introduced him to. He hadn’t seen him since that night, and he hoped it remained that way until the wound was no longer fresh. Until the wound did not exist, because it would be too easy to open it back up again. 

It wasn’t that Percy still loved him, and he didn’t want him back either. He just didn’t know what made Ethan do it. Sometimes he would like to know. Most times, he never wanted to hear a word spoken from his mouth again, because beautiful lies dripped from his tongue like honey, pouring out as though he didn’t have to think twice about it. The entire thing felt like a hoax. A horrible, calculated deception to rip him apart, and beat his already broken heart. 

Ethan could whisper to him, listen to each of his past experiences, and reiterate his promise that he would never do that to Percy, but he did. He laid beside him in darkness, running his hands through his hair, and reassuring him through it all. He told him he would never do the same thing. He would never use Percy. He loved him. And no, he didn’t do the same thing. He did something worse. Something just as dark. 

All of Percy’s past experiences with love and romance had come to a horrible halt. Terence was the exception, because neither of them truly fell in love with each other. They worked better as friends. But every other past heartbreak—he carried them with him everywhere, because they followed him like ghosts haunting his existence.

People assume that when you are young, you don’t know a thing about love. About life. About real struggles. But there was nothing fake about the excruciating, agonising ache that he held in his heart. 

~•~ 

Percy was at deep risk of falling asleep during Law. He knew he wouldn’t fail, but he also knew that it was going to test his will like Isaac had previously said it would. It was interesting, don’t get Percy wrong. But a teacher can make all the difference, and he was making Percy despise being in that classroom. He felt as though a weight was lifted off of him when the first break commenced. 

He swung his bag over his shoulder, rushing out of the classroom, because he was unbelievably frustrated. He had been looking forward to being in that class since he picked it the year before, and a teacher had managed to suck the fun out of all of it. He sighed, excited to see Penelope and Isaac again. They had the ability to reenergise him. Possibly bring back the five years of life he lost in that classroom. 

He dropped his bag on the table, peering around the courtyard for any sign of Penelope. He shook his head, returning his gaze to the table, figuring he would just find a spot to stare at until she showed up. He reached into his back, pulling out his lunch. Today’s menu was two minute noodles he had put in a heat insulated container. He always had something different, because he refused to go to the canteen. Sometimes the lines lasted fifteen minutes, and that was something he wasn’t willing to put himself through ever again. 

He lifted his eyes momentarily, finding Penelope walking beside Peter. Peter had his hands stuffed in his pockets with his shoulders lifted up high as he spoke to her, and Penelope was fidgeting with her fingers, grinning at the ground. Meanwhile, Peter was staring at her as though he had just discovered he had won the lottery, but he looked at her so gently. Like if he looked too hard, she would break from his gaze. 

“Hi Percy,” Peter said as the two of them approached him.

Percy smiled, “Hey Peter,” he said as Penelope sat down across from Percy. She looked back up. 

“I’ll see you later,” Peter told her, lifting his hand to the back of his hand. “You, uh, chose Modern History, right?” 

“Yes, I did,” she nodded, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Okay, I’ll see you there,” he replied. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” she said back, and he bobbed his head up and down slowly before stepping back with a little stumble as he turned around. Percy frowned jokingly. “He actually came up to me.”

“Oh, did he?” Percy smiled, lifting an eyebrow. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe this. It was that he was surprised Peter was finally doing something about it, and he wasn’t being protective over his feelings anymore. “What’d he want to say?” 

“Well, that part was a bit… blurry?” She said slowly with a shrug, followed by a chuckle. “I don’t think he knew what he was going to say.” 

Percy laughed, dropping his head forward. “Oh, bless his heart. But what did he end up saying?”

“It seemed like he was leading up to some question, so I just asked for his number,” Penelope explained, reaching into her bag for her own lunch before placing it on the table softly. Percy smirked. “And he said yes, and sort of just stood there. But he ended up giving it to me, and I called it, so he had mine, too.”

“How long before one of you asks the other out?” He asked before lifting his fork into his mouth. 

“I don’t even care right now, I’m too happy right now,” she told him, which sent a smile to his own face. He could tell. One glance, and he always knew exactly what she was thinking, but it was better this time, because she was happy, and that was all Percy ever wanted for her. Isaac dropped to the seat beside Penelope, looking as though he was following a high. Penelope glanced at him. “What have you been doing, sweetheart?”

“Uh, I was walking around for a bit,” he said, slightly out of breath. “And then, I was walking through A block, and some year ten girls were getting into a whole fist fight. I was rooting for Girl A, and had to show my support, and she was totally winning until McGonagall broke up the fight.”

“You’re an idiot,” Percy told him with a chuckle. 

“Yes,” Isaac said with insinuation. “But I was the one who got to see a fight, and you weren’t.”

Percy and Penelope shared a few moments of eye contact before they resumed eating. He glanced at Isaac one more time, because he could tell that he had constantly been holding something back the past few days, and he would not let up. Percy assumed since they were working last night, he would finally tell him then, but he didn’t, and it was beginning to annoy him. 

Since Penelope and Percy had adopted Isaac into their group, he had spared no detail about pretty much everything. The only area of his life that he kept to himself was whatever happened when he was at home, and Percy had grown to accept this. In fact, he never really minded at all. But something had changed in Isaac at some point in the summer, and Percy spent the last three days searching for what that could be, and he was yet to find it. 

He let his eyes wander away while Isaac began explaining what he overheard from the fight when Marcus walked past them, darting his eyes at the table. Isaac wasn’t entirely wrong about Marcus staring at him as though he wanted to kill him, but Penelope wasn’t wrong about the fuck me eyes either. Tension had existed between them for years, and maybe their falling out created so much resentment, because neither of them wanted that, but neither of them could salvage that either. 

“Enjoying the view, Flint?” Isaac asked, twisting his head to the side with a smirk. 

“Fuck off,” Marcus grunted, sticking up the middle finger at him as he continued to pass the table, and made his way to his own friend group. Elton and Terence sat close to each other as usual while Gemma sat on the opposite side, welcoming him with a smile that she only ever gave to him, and Isaac on occasions 

“Thought so,” Isaac chimed, his eyes following Marcus all the way back to his table. “Anyway, I met a guy last night after I finished work.”

“Gross, it better not have been that loiterer,” Percy cringed, because he remembered the guy. He hung around for hours without getting anything, and then eventually came to the front counter just to flirt with Isaac. And Percy knew Isaac could do so much better, too. He didn’t like Marcus much either, but Percy knew he would suit him so much better than Isaac’s casual hookups.

“As a matter of fact, it was,” Isaac said shamelessly. 

“On a school night?” Penelope asked. 

“Ah, no, I’m seeing him on Friday,” he explained. “And that’ll probably be the last time, anyway. I don’t see a future there.”

“You don’t see a future with anyone,” Percy corrected. 

“Excuse me, I do.”

“Yeah, future hookups,” Penelope joked, tapping Isaac gently. They had grown to understand Isaac never minded these jokes very much. There were limited things he was actually sensitive about, which was his home, and he never spoke about that. Plus, Percy and Penelope would have never said a word about it either. “Anyway, I got Peter’s number.”

“Oh, wow,” Isaac gasped, and his face switched from excitement to confusion in a blink. “Wait, what? How the fuck did that happen?”

“Well, I just asked,” Penelope shrugged. “And he said yes, so now I have it.”

“Hm, surprising,” Isaac nodded as he pushed out his lips thoughtfully with the corners curving downwards. He looked down, hooking one of his ankles around the other as he fell into thought about something. Percy cared about him. He just wanted to know what was clearly bothering him. 

~•~

As it often did, he never found out what was bothering Isaac. He buried his feelings deep inside him, and Percy wasn’t sure if he ever really acknowledged them. He wondered if he held them in all day until he arrived at home, and fell apart when nobody was there to see him. Isaac told them all the good parts of his life, but he pretended like there was nothing bad. 

Percy walked through the hall, walking slightly in front of Penelope and Isaac with his book tucked under his arm. They had English, and then they had Modern History. He hoped that those lessons would make up for the trainwreck that Law unfortunately turned out to be. He stared into the distance, dragging his feet across the floor. 

It was the last two classes of the day, which Percy was grateful for. While Percy did well in school, he never really liked it much. Especially not high school, and the people he was forced to be around every single day for too many years. And this was one of the only afternoons that he had the chance to do whatever he wanted. He wasn’t assigned any homework, other than the Chemistry assignment that was due the following Monday, and he wasn’t shifted on at work either.

His eyes wandered across the hall, finding the posters that were aimed to provide some motivation to students, but the only time anybody really looked at those quotes was when they didn’t have anywhere else to look. Plus, they were hardly there for motivation, because no one felt that way about them. Without the posters, the school would really just resemble a jail cell hall. They were a little bit of colour away from looking like the corridor of a prison. 

He, Isaac, and Penelope were luckily placed into the same English class. All of the year twelves had it at the same time, so it could’ve easily gone sideways. The only other class they shared altogether was Chemistry, and they were all placed at different corners of the room, and while Percy aimed to work harder than ever, it might have been refreshing to have some friends in the same class.

And there was no Oliver in their English class. To which, Percy was glad. Somehow, everywhere he turned, the sight of Oliver’s face flashed before his eyes as though he was aiming to haunt him. He didn’t have to try. Because for all the firsts Percy had, he had pictured them all happening with Oliver before they happened. It didn’t go that way. He had his first date, first kiss, and first time with a different guy who wasn’t him. But the child within Percy’s heart had secretly always imagined his first kiss being him.

“You know, I’ve learned my lesson,” Oliver said, appearing beside Percy randomly. Percy glanced at him, lifting his eyes to meet Oliver’s gaze. He was grinning proudly as though he had figured out a long-existing mystery.

“Clearly you haven’t learned enough, Wood,” Percy muttered, returning his eyes back to the various posters he was hating on moments before. 

“My lesson, you see, was to sneak up on you rather than call your name,” Oliver continued as though everything Percy said was just a temporary bump in the road in achieving his goal. Which, apparently, was annoying Percy in every way he knew how. But he never had to try. His existence had that effect on Percy in more than one way. “That way I’ll have you before you can run away.”

“Oh great, now I’ll have to be looking behind me all the time,” Percy replied with a derisive grin, blinking back at him. Oliver gently tugged on Percy’s wrist, causing them both to come to a halt. Percy ripped his hand away from him with a glare. But he stayed.

“While I could stand here all day, and bicker with you, Percy, and trust me, I really could,” Oliver said, jumping in front of Percy with a smile that faded seconds later, “When are we going to do this assignment? I’d like to get it over and done with.”

“And I would like you to disintegrate into thin air, but we don’t get everything we like,” Percy mumbled, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Fascinating mind, you have,” Oliver grinned. Of course he grinned, because why wouldn’t he? Only Oliver Wood would stand there with a winning smile after somebody just informed him they would like for him to disappear. “But I have football training on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so those are out of the question. Then, I usually train with my dad on Friday nights. And my games are on Saturdays.”

“And what do you do with all that free time, hm?” Percy teased, knowing he wasn’t one to judge either. Pretty much all he did was study and work. Sometimes, he did both at once if it was really necessary. 

“Funny,” Oliver said, and sighed. “So we have Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this sooner?” Percy shook his head in disbelief, glaring at Oliver, who lifted his shoulders shyly. “It’s due on Monday.”

“To be honest, I was rather focused on football,” Oliver told him, his demeanor shifting into visible anxiety. His smile was crooked, and he lifted a hand to the back of his neck, and fourteen year old Percy would have lost it if he saw this. He would’ve gone home, replaying the moment in his head again and again until he had another interaction with Oliver. But not eighteen year old Percy. No, he was just annoyed. “Didn’t even think about the assignment.”

“I quite literally hope you contract an illness that cannot affect anybody else and perish.”

“Death threats,” Oliver said in a light tone and a grin, gazing at Percy as though he was breathing his first breath of fresh air. “Adorable when they come from you. Sort of like a… little chihuahua trying to act scary.”

“I have two older brothers, Wood,” Percy explained, because having two older brothers, and four other siblings toughened his skin. There were broken bones and hurt feelings, but he learned how to stand up for himself. And he knew how to be really mean when he would like to be. “We got into wrestling matches all the time. I could take you if I wanted.”

“I bet they went easy on you though,” Oliver replied, because he was an only child, and would have had no clue what siblings were really like. Yes, they were Percy’s first best friends, and he loved them. And yes, they would get into merciless brawls around the house, and they hated each other. Clearly, that was something Oliver didn’t understand.

“No, actually, once Bill got so mad, he double bounced me on the trampoline, and I went flying off, and broke my arm,” Percy explained with a smile just at the thought. Because yes, that was exactly what happened. But when he was at the hospital, Bill brought Percy all of his favourite sweets to show that he didn’t mean to do that. There were many other stories like this. “So… no.” 

“That’s… That’s awful,” Oliver stared at him, a concerned expression growing on his face.

“Brothers,” Percy said with a shrug. “Take them or leave them, hm?”

“Yes, but Peter doesn’t have stories like that with his brothers,” Oliver told him. “He has Andrew, who is Charlie’s age, and Brax, who is… I think he's in year five.”

“Well, not us,” Percy answered carelessly.

“Yes, well… studying?” Oliver offered again, straightening his shoulders with a nervous smile.

“Suppose we’ll have to do it this afternoon, because you’re daft, and waited to tell me that you only have three hours of free time a week,” Percy said, nodding his head as he spoke, because it was his one free day, and of course, Oliver was annoying enough to take that away too. “And I am not spending my weekend with you.”

“Okay, well, you can come to mine,” Oliver told him. “I have a car.”

“Great,” Percy sighed, tugging softly against the strap of his back. He gently tapped Oliver’s shoulder, realising he still had classes to attend, and was grateful that he didn’t have to be around Oliver for those. Oliver smiled. “Goodbye, Wood. Let me have my last few hours of peace.”

~•~

It was easy to get over someone who you hardly saw. That was a thought that passed through Percy’s mind when he was sitting in English, supposed to be writing notes for the class. And he was, but he realised he wasn’t fully taking in the information when he wrote Oliver’s name on the lined paper. He wasn’t easy to get over a person you always saw. It was even harder when you never even dated them.

There couldn’t be an ending to something that never had a beginning. And while Percy’s feelings were real and undeniable, he knew that the love that existed between them only came from him. Oliver never knew about them. He never found out, because Percy masked his soft spot for him under layers of hostility and anger. He would prefer to feel angry rather than sad, because that meant that heartbreak was real, and he didn’t know how to get over it. Not fully, anyway.

He sank into his seat in Modern History, sitting on a different table than Penelope for the first time, because she and Peter agreed to sit beside each other. Percy didn’t enjoy being alone, but he didn’t mind, because every time she spoke Peter’s name, she couldn’t help but smile about it. It was all very adorable when it wasn’t absolutely nauseating. 

Oliver followed behind Peter into the classroom. Of course, Peter’s face lit up the moment he found Penelope, his eyes sparkling, and when Percy looked at Oliver, he was already looking at him with a similar expression. As Peter made his way to Penelope, Oliver made his way to Percy, dropping his belongings onto the table beside him.

“What did I just say about letting me have my last few hours of peace?” Percy asked as Oliver sat beside him with a smile. 

“Oh, I can’t control the fact we chose the same class, Percy, and Peter is sitting next to Penelope,” Oliver explained, watching as Percy’s foot slipped off the other chair as he tucked it underneath the table. 

“So, go find someone else to sit with, or go find somewhere else to sit alone,” Percy suggested, raising his eyebrows, and gesturing around the classroom where very few seats remained vacant. Percy didn’t care where Oliver sat. He just wished it wasn’t right beside him.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly do that when the option of annoying you is right there,” Oliver said sarcastically, reflecting all of his teeth in a smile. 

“Of course,” Percy murmured, twisting his body to the front. He twisted his head back once more, furrowing his eyebrows as he leaned slightly closer to Oliver. “Of course, because you’re insufferable, and you take pride in that.”

Oliver, as a response, leaned closer to Percy. He tilted his head to the side, resting it against his hand. “Yes, I take insurmountable pride in irritating you. It is wonderful, truly,” he nodded, speaking in a mocking whisper. Percy rolled his eyes, refusing to be the one that backed away first. That would mean he lost whatever game Oliver decided they were playing. Oliver blinked, chewing against his lip, and grinned again. “Plus, you’re coming to my house after, so it’s easy knowing where you are.”

“You’re going to whose house, Perce?” Penelope said, leaning back on her chair for a clearer view of Percy’s face. And again, he knew what she was implying by the way she had her eyebrows lifted until Oliver turned to face her. To which, every last drop of emotion drained on her own face as she waited for an answer.

“His house, unfortunately,” Percy told her, shooting a glare at Oliver. “We have to do the project today, because this moron told me he only has two free days left to study.” 

“In my defence,” Oliver began, “He didn’t actually ask me, nor did he make an effort to decide on a date to do it either.”

“Yeah, because I thought that we at least had more than one afternoon,” Percy added.

“You should’ve asked before you thought that.” Oliver snapped his body back to Percy, and their attention returned back to each other. Penelope turned back to Peter, biting down her own smile. 

“Oh, sorry,” Percy mocked him, waving his hands in the air before dropping them back to the table. “Just, please, let me have this period in silence.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Oliver mumbled before sliding down further in his seat with a grimace settling on his face. He tapped his pockets, appearing shocked when he realised something wasn’t there. He cleared his throat, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Wouldn’t have a spare pen, would you?”

Percy sighed, leaning forward to unzip his pencil case. He reached into the pouch, lazily holding the pen out for him. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Oliver said as he exhaled an air of relief. “I usually keep one in my pocket. Must’ve fallen out.” 

“So, you’re a moron, what’s new?” Percy mumbled. 

“Uh, rude?” he said, his face screwing up, and it felt like the hundredth time he had said something like that in the past few days. 

Percy glanced at him, dropping his head as he folded himself over the table. He bit down on his bottom lip, wishing he could drive his head into the table again and again without looking crazy to other people. Oliver was driving him absolutely insane, and sometimes he couldn’t tell if it was on purpose, because when he met his eyes, he seemed clueless. His eyes reflected innocence, and he constantly had a stupid smile on his face. 

He felt as though Oliver got the message, because for the remainder of the lesson, he fell silent as he did his work, which was pretty much copying down from the whiteboard. Introduction lessons were usually like that, which made it bearable to sit through. But Percy had a feeling that they weren’t all going to be. Not when Penelope had Peter to sit next to, and Isaac was in a different class during that time. 

When the bell went, there was a little back and forth between Percy and Oliver until Percy told him to lead the way, lagging behind him slightly until they reached his car. The funny thing was Percy once dreamed about this. A day where he would have the chance to be Oliver’s passenger. Because there was a point in his life that he would follow Oliver anywhere if he asked him to. But, of course, he never did, because that was how life often went.

The person you spend nights thinking about, laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as you recount every interaction you had with them, or the person that makes you go to sleep a little later, because no matter what route your mind took, it always returned back to them—you don’t always end up with that person. All the wishing among the stars wasn’t a concrete method of success. It was all just sheer dumb luck, and Percy’s had struck out when he started liking Oliver. 

He pressed his back against the car seat, hands curling over each side of the seat. Not because Oliver was driving recklessly, or too quick. No, he was driving like a grandmother whose body was beginning to give out. Percy groaned, slapping his hands to his face, “So, you’re a quick runner, but God forbid actually driving the speed limit, right?”

“I am driving the speed limit,” Oliver answered, rather irritated. His hands were closed tightly around the wheel with white knuckles. He almost glanced at Percy before realisation seemed to wash over to them. Then, he gazed forward, throwing a quick look at each mirror. “I’m just… being careful, y’know? I am not one to play with my life.”

“I wish you would,” Percy whispered through his teeth, staring forward, because by the time they actually get to Oliver’s, it might be nighttime. “You do know that we need to get your house today, not in… a week from now.” 

“Right, I might just slow down,” Oliver replied, shaking his head as though he thought this was a brilliant answer.

“And have the car behind us ram into the back?” Percy said as he turned to Oliver while nodding his head, and pointing behind them. He sighed, and sank into the seat again. “Okay, be my guest.” 

“I hate you,” Oliver said as though he had just discovered this.

“I hate you,” Percy said back, crossing his arms. 

Oliver scoffed, but didn’t say anything else. Nonetheless, Percy’s insults about Oliver’s driving didn’t have any sort of effect on him at all. He continued driving at a pace that felt like a pedestrian could pass them as they were strolling past. Percy sighed, lifting his elbow up to the car door, resting his head against his hand. 

When they arrived at his house, they climbed out of the car in silence. They walked to his front door in silence, and they made their way to his room in silence. Percy should have been grateful for this, but a part of him wasn’t, really. Oliver being silent was almost as irritating, and almost uncanny, as Oliver talking non-stop was. 

As Oliver pushed the door of his bedroom open, Percy caught a small glimpse of it. His entire room was filled with football things—posters, a framed signed shirt, signed footballs, and of course, football bedsheets. There was not a corner of the room that didn’t have something related to football. 

“Wow, chose against putting any football things in here, did you?” Percy joked, glancing around the corners of the room.

Oliver slowly turned, his eyes studying the room as though he had never noticed it. He probably didn’t know how excessive it really was. He lifted his shoulders, holding up a hand to gesture around, “Yes, well, I discovered my calling when I was six, and never looked back.”

“No, of course you didn’t, insufferable prick,” Percy said, walking slightly further, inching closer slowly. He often did this when he liked Oliver. He would approach him slowly like he would hop away quickly if he was startled. Penelope nicknamed him the jack rabbit a few years ago, because the moment it seemed like every time Percy had a chance, Oliver just hopped away and away. 

“I really don’t understand why you dislike me so much,” Oliver told him with a heavy sigh. His shoulders sank, and a frown spread across his lips as though this had brought him great despair. 

“Um, year eight,” Percy stated, aiming to jog his memory, but Oliver didn’t let up. He stood with his arms hanging up his sides, shaking his head like it didn’t ring any bells. Percy sucked in a deep breath before blowing it out again. “You kicked a ball into my head, and then you just ran along with your friends while laughing, and you didn’t even say sorry.”

“Okay, yeah. Fair enough. What else, then?” Oliver asked. Percy froze, biting on his lip. Well, of course there were other reasons, but he couldn’t tell him that Oliver had been his first love, and that was why he had so much resentment toward him. Of course he couldn’t tell him that. So, Percy risked his pride in the safest way, and shrugged his shoulders. “That—that’s literally the dumbest fucking reason I’ve ever heard. I’m—I was fourteen. You can’t have made a decision about who I am as a person when I was fourteen… Or even thirteen.”

“Maybe if you had shown you had changed,” Percy answered, and that wasn’t entirely a lie. It was just withholding the full, and embarrassing, truth. “But you haven’t. You’re still as annoying, insensitive, and irritating as you were back then, and I cannot stand you.”

“You’ve hardly ever even spoken to me,” Oliver laughed with disbelief, pushing his hand through his hair. He looked to the floor, thinking for a split second. They had spoken many times. So many times. But maybe they never held any significance in Oliver’s mind. “You can’t really decide that you dislike me based on our very limited conversations.”

“Well, I didn’t view them as limited conversations, but of course you did, because the only things you ever think about is football, yourself, and Peter,” Percy snapped back, filled with anger, and more embarrassment. 

All those years, the memories of Oliver had been stored freshly in his mind. Every single conversation they had ever had. Every accidental eye contact. Every time Oliver had ever been in his vicinity—it was all there. It had its own special place, dedicated to him, and vacant for any future interactions. When you know someone for that long, that always tends to be the case. 

But clearly, it wasn’t the same for Oliver. Clearly he had never paid as much attention to Percy as Percy paid to him all those years, and that made a certain part of him ache. The part of him that he hadn’t been aware of until those words had been uttered moments before. The part of him that still loved Oliver the same way he did before the ball had hit him in the head. 

“Okay, let’s just get this Chemistry thing done, then,” Oliver mumbled, his voice softening as he spoke, and lifted his knee to his bed to climb on top of it. 

Percy had admittedly never seen him act like that before, and had never heard him speak so gently, and then he knew he had really hurt his feelings that time. He had never thought twice about insulting Oliver, because it never seemed to have any effect on him whatsoever. But evidently, being called selfish was something that offended him more than anything else, and Percy decided he wouldn’t do that again. 

Percy wasn’t a bad person. He always hoped he wasn’t. But he masked his vulnerability underneath all of his malevolence. Because oftentimes, being vulnerable was scarier than being viewed as mean. And if Oliver ever discovered Percy’s feelings, that would simply be the end of him. He would never be able to show his face again. 

He would never call him selfish again, but he wasn’t ready to be vulnerable. He wasn’t sure he would ever be. So, he would continue to mask his feelings under belligerence, and hold out for the year until he no longer had to be around Oliver.

Chapter Text

From a young age, Oliver always wanted to be viewed as good. In every aspect of his life, if he wasn’t perfect, then he wasn’t good enough. That was why he stopped to help year sevens. That was why football had become his whole sky. That was why he hadn’t stopped thinking about Percy’s words—the fact that he had essentially called him selfish, claiming that Oliver didn’t care about anything, except himself, Peter, and football. But that couldn’t really be true. He had always prided himself on his kindness, due to his need to be viewed as good. 

But Percy had said it, and Oliver didn’t know why it had hurt him so much. Of course, he didn’t like being called selfish, but he had been insulted so many times that it didn’t affect him as much as it used to. But when Percy said that Oliver was selfish, Oliver didn’t want to believe that was the truth. For one, he wasn’t selfish, and for two, Oliver cared about everybody. So much so that it hurt sometimes. He even cared about Percy, and that was the one that always ended up hurting him the most. 

Percy’s name was the first one Oliver ever discovered when he arrived at school. In kindergarten, they were sat beside each other, because they were placed in alphabetical order, and Isaac, and Eleanor hadn’t been there yet. He remembered the glint of red hair from the corner of his eye, and how he turned to him, and placed his hand out. Percy reluctantly took it, and introduced himself. Out of everybody, Percy was the one he knew the longest, and the one who hated him the most. 

Oliver rested his chin against his hand, tilting his head to the side as he watched Percy from afar. He did that a lot in those days. He always knew exactly where Percy was, but he had started seeking him out. No one else got to him the way Percy managed to. It has always been that way, but something about him recently had brought a different feeling to Oliver, and it sat in his stomach, and reemerged the second Percy passed through his mind, or passed him at school. 

And who was Percy to call Oliver selfish? Percy never spoke to anybody other than Isaac and Penelope. He always sat there at lunch with his food in front of him, always something different. He would smile, and laugh, and seemed as though he was in another world entirely. And frankly, it pissed Oliver off, because how could Percy call Oliver selfish while he never even looked in Oliver’s direction unless it was an obligation? 

Oliver clenched his jaw tightly as his leg bounced under the table. He ripped his eyes away from Percy to find Peter, who was gazing off into space. “Do you think I’m selfish, Pete?” 

“What?” Peter asked, knocked back into this universe. “No, of course I don’t.”

“Hm,” Oliver nodded thoughtfully, turning away to look back at Percy, who was folded over the table, pressing his finger into Isaac’s shoulder for some reason. Heat arose in Oliver’s body as he watched. 

“Why?” Peter asked again, waving his hand in front of Oliver’s face as though he hadn’t been replying, and that was a real possibility. He had just been so distracted lately. 

Oliver bit on his lip and sighed loudly. “What do you think of Percy?” He questioned, squinting his eyes, because he was in a terrible mood. The whole ordeal had put him in an awful mood. Ever since Wednesday, Percy was the one, and only, thing Oliver was thinking about, and it was killing him. He never cared this much, and lately, it was eating away at him. 

“Oh, erm… Well, we’ve never spoken much, but he’s always been… I wouldn’t say nice, but I wouldn’t say he had been rude to me either,” Peter explained, curling his lip, and tilting his head to the side as if he hadn’t expected the question at all. “It was you two that always argued.”

“But I never thought that he hated me,” Oliver whined, looking back at Percy, who was now teasing Penelope about something, because her cheeks were a bright pink. If Oliver had to guess what it was, it would be something about Peter, because they had been speaking a lot the past few days. But he had made no progress with Percy. In fact, he might have regressed. “I never hated him.”

“Why don’t you say sorry? You know, for the kicking the ball into his head in year eight,” Peter suggested, and now, Oliver felt more like a jerk. Because he had completely forgotten about that moment, and everybody else seemed to recall it just fine. “He may forgive you.”

“Oh, Percy Weasley and forgiveness,” Oliver laughed, placing his hands flat on the table as he leaned back. He pointed one finger up, shaking his head. “That is a foreign concept to him. You know he has been holding a grudge against me since we were fourteen. Fourteen!”

“Mate, why do you care so much?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow like he was insinuating something. “It’s a chemistry partnership, and you have both been giving each other shit since you met. So why is it suddenly different now?”

“He’s just so… so… so pathetic,” Oliver breathed, attempting to search for the correct word, but even that one didn’t seem… right. It didn’t feel right. “Who the fuck holds grudges from four years ago? That’s unbelievable. Unbelievable!” 

“It hasn’t really been four years, though,” Peter replied carelessly. Like this wasn’t really a serious matter when it so clearly was. “It’s been way longer than that.”

“But it was all lighthearted… Nothing serious, you know?” Oliver leaned forward, pressing his fist into the tabletop. He had thought it was all lighthearted, because that was what it had been for him. Back and forth bickering that Oliver would have been glad to keep. He wasn’t ready to hear Percy list a real reason why he hated him so much, because it seemed like that damage couldn’t be undone. And Oliver wanted to undo it more than anything else at that moment.

“So, why don’t you just talk to him?” Peter offered with a clueless shrug. 

There was no way he could go up to Percy, and just… talk to him. Percy wouldn’t like it, nor would he allow it. There was something he couldn’t stand about Oliver. Yes, he said he was selfish, and that was why he disliked him so much, but it had to be more than that. Percy had known Oliver too long to wholeheartedly believe that. But Oliver would never get to the bottom of it. He would never truly know why, because Percy would never tell him. He would never let him know. 

~•~

Oliver rolled over, curled under his blanket as he stared at his phone. It was late, and he had his football game early the next day, but there was just something that would not let him sleep. It would send hot flashes over his body and face. It would cause him to roll over and roll back. It made him completely restless. So, he gave up on sleeping for a bit, admitting defeat as he reached back over to his phone. 

It wasn’t long before he pressed on Instagram, and was typing Percy’s name into the search bar. He couldn’t help it, because every time he thought he had him figured out, he turned out to be wrong in some capacity. And Oliver was aware that social media generally didn’t present the whole truth about a person, but a glamorised version of their reality. But he would still like to know more. That was all he wanted. 

He pressed on the first account that came up due to the profile picture with Percy and Penelope, and a post with the same picture. He pressed on the mini version, studying the picture. His arm was stretched around her with the photo capturing a moment where he was laughing. He was looking at Penelope, who had her arm around him in return, pushing her lips out with her eyes closed, and holding two fingers up to form a peace sign. It was Isaac who took the photo, Oliver guessed. And they were clearly at some sort of party, and it looked oddly familiar—the same house Oliver had gone to before the summer, but he didn’t recall seeing Percy there. 

That was the most recent photo posted, but there were many others throughout his posts that were similar, because they all had Penelope or Isaac in them. Some were scenic photos with big, dimly lit libraries, tall buildings that looked like the city, and the very top of a mountain. And yet, all Oliver could gather was what he already knew—that Percy only liked Isaac and Penelope, and that he wasn’t at home all the time. 

He shrugged his shoulders, weighing out the possibilities, and pressed the follow button. He sighed, loosening his grip around the phone as it dropped beside him, and he hadn’t learned anything new. He rested his hands on his stomach, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling once again. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Percy had always been on his mind, and he had always kept Oliver awake just a little bit longer, but this was just… different. It was painful, and clenched inside his chest. 

He felt a vibration from beside him, and rushed to pick up his phone, because it could be him. And as the light blared from the screen, he smiled, finding that Percy had followed him back. So he couldn’t have hated him that much. 

~•~

The following morning, a rush of positive emotions waved over Oliver. He rushed around, getting ready as quickly as he could to have time at the field before the game began. He always did, because they were required to, but he still liked to get there before everybody else did. On their way, they picked up Peter as usual. Sometimes, Andrew drove him, but most times, Oliver’s parents did. It became a routine when they discovered what it was like at his home. 

When Peter was fourteen, Andrew was twenty, and Brax was seven, their mother divorced their father when she discovered he was having an affair. From then on, everything progressively fell apart. Oliver discovered that not long after the divorce, her best friend passed away from a terminal illness, and she drank one night, and then never stopped. When Oliver first met her, she was a woman filled with so much light. She was funny, and she always took turns with Oliver’s parents driving them around. But four years ago, she had lost everything she once held dear. So now, she drowned her sorrows in alcohol. 

When Oliver’s parents found out, they started helping her as much as they could. But you couldn’t help someone who refused to take it, and she refused to take it. Similarly to Peter, she always felt that she was a burden. So they tried, but they could only get so far. They never blamed her. They just did whatever they could when they could. 

He and Peter made their way over to their team when, again, a glint of red hair caught his eye. He turned around, finding Percy sitting on a silver bench with his phone in his hand, looking as though he really didn’t want to be there with his eyebrows furrowed and a grimace plaguing his expression.

“Hold on, Pete, I’ll be there in a second,” Oliver told him, slowly drifting toward Percy. Peter glanced behind him, nodding his head as he continued walking without a word. Oliver spun around, doing everything he could to stop himself from looking at Percy again. Slowly, he sat down, clearing his throat as he stared forward. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Percy grunted, rolling his eyes as he found Oliver. He shoved his phone in his pocket, and folded his arms. Oliver wiggled his eyebrows, waiting for a response. “Fred and George are playing here today. Mum and Dad insist that we all come. Of course, Charlie and Bill get out of it, because they’ve moved out. Unfortunately, I am still cursed with the obligation of having to go to their games. And I am, yet again, cursed with your presence.”

“Well I do play football as you know,” Oliver said with a smile, lifting up a leg onto the seat as he twisted his body to face him. 

“No, it must’ve slipped my mind,” Percy mumbled, also turning to face Oliver. He squinted his eyes as he tilted his head to the side. “It’s not like you make it your entire personality or anything.”

“I definitely don’t,” Oliver replied.

“You definitely do,” Percy laughed with a sarcastic smile spreading across his face. He placed his hand out, holding back each finger as he listed he options. “It’s all over your Instagram, your room, you talk about it all the time. I could keep going.”

“Yes, and I saw that you followed me back,” Oliver nodded. 

“I saw that you followed me first,” Percy added.

“So you don’t hate me?” He asked with a nervous grin. 

“Who said that I don’t?” Percy’s face screwed up, looking around as though this came as a shock to him. 

“You, basically,” Oliver answered, gently tapping Percy’s shoulder once. Percy looked down, and looked back at him, and turned back to stare out into the distance. 

“Oi, Wood!” Terence called out with a bag hanging from his shoulder, along with Marcus and Peter standing beside him. From a distance, Oliver could see his other teammates gathering around Coach Hooch. 

He sighed, biting on his lip, and wished that he had a little more time to speak to him. Percy’s eyes dropped to the floor as Oliver’s alternated between his teammates and Percy, “I have to go,” he murmured. 

“Thank God. I was about to run onto that field, and let those guys take me out,” Percy mumbled with a suppressed smile. Oliver knew this, because he bit his lip the same way he always did. 

“Hilarious as always, Percy,” Oliver commented as he lifted himself from the seat. He paused for a moment, not knowing what to do with himself. He had to go, but he didn’t want to. Not right at the moment. “I’ll, uh, see you.”

“Yep,” Percy said, reaching back into his pocket for his phone as Oliver walked away. He didn’t say that he hated Oliver that time. He did say he was cursed with his presence, but he hardly insulted him, and he actually told Oliver what he was doing there. The art of progress. 

“So—“ Someone said suddenly from beside him, interrupting the deep rabbit hole that Oliver was digging in his mind. 

Oliver jumped, startled by the suddenness of their voice. He blew out a deep breath when he found Elton standing there with a smile. “Jesus fucking Christ, you know you’re supposed to give some warning before you sneak up on someone.”

“Well, no, that would defeat the entire purpose of sneaking up on someone, and also, I don’t care enough for that,” Elton stated carelessly, throwing his hand in the air. Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Elton lean against the pole behind him. “Didn’t know you had a thing for Weasley Number Three. I always thought the old, married couple bickering was a bit. Turns out it’s true, then?”

“No, we’re not… ” Oliver trailed off, glancing back at where Percy sat. He paused, blinking slowly. “I don’t fancy him.”

“I bet you’re fantasising about hitting him from behind, hm?” Elton grinned, nodding his head forward as he jerked an eyebrow up. 

He was a lot like Terence. They were the same person with slight, subtle differences between them. Terence would talk to anything that breathed, while Elton only spoke to people in their year. It was no surprise when they began dating, especially when everybody knew that they always liked each other. 

Oliver was shocked when Percy and Terence started dating the year before. Really, he was shaken to his core. Percy, despite the constant insults, was relatively normal, and Terence was one of the dumbest people Oliver had ever met. Percy was guarded, and Terence… Well, his life was no secret to those around him. He was always making casual jokes about it, and Oliver suspected the only people who knew anything about Percy’s were the two people he sat with every day.

Along with that, he was just pissed off when they started dating. His teammate and his enemy. Plus, if Percy hated Oliver so much, why didn’t he hate Terence? And why would he start dating him if the whole year knew that Terence and Elton had a thing for each other? The whole situation never made the slightest bit of sense to him.

And what didn’t make sense to him was why they broke up. They were both into other people. Yes, Terence fancied Elton, but who did Percy like? And who did he end up dating? He was losing his mind trying to figure it out. 

Oliver’s face dropped into a glare, “Real classy, Ivory.”

“And yet, you didn’t deny it,” he said, pointing a finger at him.

“Oh, because it’s obviously not true,” Oliver replied. He never thought about anybody in that way. He had never liked anybody enough for that to cross his mind. 

“Right, right,” Elton nodded thoughtfully, looking back over to Oliver slowly, “You’d want to take him out on a nice date, a nice restaurant, maybe even a nice walk along the beach.”

“Shut up, dickhead,” Oliver snapped as irritation washed over him. “Why are you even here?” 

“Because Marcus and Terence are playing,” Elton pointed out as though it was clear, gesturing to where Marcus, Terence, and Peter were still waiting for him. 

“Right, I’m going,” Oliver decided, not bothering to say anything more. Elton was obviously wrong. Of course, the joke about him and Percy arguing like an old married couple had existed for as long as Oliver could really remember. One day, Terence mentioned it, and the rest of them went along with it. Oliver hadn’t thought much about it, because it was Terence who said it. 

“Think about what I said!” Elton called out, and as Oliver glanced back after a few moments, he had already turned around, making his way to Percy. Oliver expected the same scowl on Percy’s face that he greeted most people with, but no, he smiled as Elton sat beside him. Since when were they friends?

Oliver did see that Elton and Percy followed each other the night before, but that was just Instagram. That didn’t mean they were friends. Plus, Elton was now with Percy’s ex who broke up with him, because he liked Elton. Over the past week, Oliver felt as though he was learning absolutely nothing about Percy, but he had managed to find out that Percy was still friends with Elton and Terence, which was awfully random to him, and just… strange. 

And unfortunately, he did think about what Elton said. He thought about it for the remainder of the game whenever he took a breath. When he played football, the entire world seemed to fall away, and nothing else mattered. The only option was winning for him, and he did everything that he could to achieve that objective, and of course, they won. They always did. Their entire club was known as one of the best. All of their groups were reigning across their competitions.

He managed to score two goals, and Marcus scored the other two. Many people had labelled them as an unstoppable duo on the field, which comically contrasted the relationship off the field. But nothing connects two people like shared interests, even when the majority of the time they don’t get along. Oliver never had a problem with Marcus. Marcus just hated everybody.

All of Percy’s siblings played for the same club, Oliver knew that, but he was closer to Fred and George than the others. He met them when they first started primary school, but he became closer to them throughout high school, and they started talking to him about football. They always came to him when they needed advice, which is why he ran up to them when he saw Fred, George, and Percy walking back to the car together after his own game.

“Hey mate, how’d you go?” He asked, gently nudging Fred. The difference between their appearances was difficult to pick apart when he first met them all those years ago, but as time went on, and they grew older, it took one glance to know.

“We won,” Fred replied with a smile lingering on his face from the moments before. Oliver knew they were making fun of Percy for something, because that was usually what they were doing when Oliver was close enough to hear. This was confirmed by the scowl still on Percy’s face.

“Yeah, three to zero,” George added, bouncing off Fred’s words. They did this quite easily as if there was a brain wave passing through them before they spoke. As if they knew what the other was going to say, and what they were going to say as a response. Oliver once joked about them having twin telepathy, but they were really just best friends that happened to be brothers. 

“Well done,” Oliver told them, patting Fred’s back, who straightened pridefully with a smile. He glanced between the two twins, who both played as defenders, and they were quite good at it, really. He had watched them a while ago, because they asked him to—for any advice, but they hardly needed any at all. “We won, too. Four to one. I scored two.” 

“Of course you did,” George commented with a grin.

“Yeah, you’re the best player at our school,” Fred added. “Always have been.”

“Oh, thanks,” Oliver smiled, not expecting the sudden compliments from them. That was not an easy task. The twins weren’t rude, but they were very few people who were safe from being victims of their pranks, and Oliver happened to be one of them. 

“Course, mate,” Fred nodded, speeding up when he seemed to find someone he had been looking for. Oliver glanced forward, finding Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson. Angelina was on the girl’s team, and she was one of the best players he had ever seen. Especially considering that she had started much later than them, and Fred definitely fancied her. That wasn’t a secret to anybody. “See you on Tuesday.”

“See you,” Oliver said, leaving the twins to go to them. Molly and Arthur waited in front of the car, standing with Ginny and Ron, who were both in their football jerseys. Oliver spun around as he walked backwards, catching onto Percy’s eye. To which, Percy quickly looked away without a moment’s hesitation.

“You were offside multiple times,” Percy murmured, moving slightly closer to Oliver. 

Oliver smiled, hopping beside Percy with a spin. He folded his arms, gently tapping his elbow against Percy’s arm, “You watched, did you?” 

“I saw from a distance,” Percy corrected, blinking up at Oliver. “You didn’t score any of the times you were offside, but lucky the ref didn’t catch it, right?”

“I wasn’t offside,” Oliver said, suddenly realising what Percy was actually saying. 

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I wasn't, because I always make sure I’m not,” Oliver told him, because that was something he used to struggle with. After his games, his father would approach him, and mention that he needed to ensure that he wasn’t. From then on, he always paid careful attention to that. 

“Well, you clearly need some work, Wood,” Percy laughed. It took Oliver by surprise that Percy knew what offside even meant. 

“Are you an expert on football?” Oliver asked with a grin growing on his lips.

Percy glared at him, blinking slowly, “Well for your information, I’m a fan of Manchester United, so I watch their games, and I’ve picked up certain things over time.”

“Really?” Oliver said, rolling his shoulders back, because that had been his favourite team for many years at that point. And he thought back to Percy’s posts—the ones with the images, and one of them included Percy and Penelope in front of a stadium, but he never took a good look at it. They were at one of their games. “I go for Manchester, too. So does Pete.”

“Yeah, Penelope does, too.”

“Oh!” Oliver grinned. “We should watch them together, then.”

Percy paused for a moment with his eyes scanning Oliver’s face like he was searching for some joke, but Oliver wasn’t joking. Penelope and Peter were well on their way to getting together. It wasn’t an impossible situation that he could end up hanging out together at some point. Realisation washed over Perry’s face, “Oh, would you look at that? My mum is calling me. Bye-bye.”

“See you… later,” Oliver murmured, watching as Percy jogged up to his parents’ car, and climbed in right after Ginny and Ron. 

“So, did you think about it?” Elton asked from beside him. Oliver was less startled this time, but nonetheless, he still caught him off guard. Oliver glanced at him, unable to find the words. Elton almost immediately smirked. “You did.”

“Yeah, I did,” he said with a sigh. “And you’re wrong.” 

“Oh, please, I’ve never been wrong,” Elton laughed, punching his fist into Oliver’s arm, which a normal person would’ve done softly. But not Elton, and it actually hurt. Oliver lifted his hand to where Elton had punched it, rubbing it gently. “And you can literally never stop smiling around him. The entire time—you just look at him with a smile, which after my own period of denial, I would know is a clear sign that you fancy somebody.” 

“Me and Percy aren’t you and Terence,” Oliver said. “It’s different.”

“Well, we will see how long that lasts,” Elton winked, placing his hand on Oliver’s back as he passed him, eyes lighting up when they found Terence. 

But he was wrong. Oliver smiled around Percy, because he was funny even when he didn’t mean to be. Or Oliver smiled, because of something Percy said that made him happy or excited, like the moments before when he said he liked the same football team as him. But none of that surmounted to liking Percy. Oliver had never thought of it like that. 

~•~

Peter and Oliver laid on his bed, both staring at the ceiling. At the last minute, Peter decided to stay the night, because he didn’t feel like there was anything waiting for him at home. Plus, Oliver asked him to, because he hardly wanted to be alone. Not like the night before where he could hardly sleep, because of his endless thinking about Percy. Peter was always able to distract him quite well, especially now that he was talking to Penelope. 

“Things have been going well,” Peter explained with a smile, staring at his phone as he watched the three bubbles pop up. Oliver nodded his head, making a small sound of acknowledgment to encourage him to keep talking. “We’ve been talking all the time. Pretty much all night since I gave her my number.”

“That’s good, mate,” Oliver replied with his mind jumping away from him. He wondered if Penelope ever mentioned Peter to Percy, and he wondered if his own name ever came up in those conversations, and what Percy would say if he did. “Are you finally going to ask her out?”

“I don’t know, man,” Peter murmured with a shrug. He squinted his eyes up at the ceiling and sighed. “I just… I don’t want her to think that’s the only reason I talk to her, y’know? If we stayed friends forever, I wouldn’t mind, because she’s brilliant in any capacity.”

“I don’t think she’ll think that, Pete,” Oliver told him, because he could tell that Penelope liked Peter back. He understood what Peter was saying, because it made sense. But that would only apply if she didn’t feel the same way about him, and it was clear that she did. He had not only known Peter for many years, he had also known her for the same amount of time. He was never as close to her, but he still knew her well enough to know if she liked anybody. “She likes you a lot, you know. She smiles and blushes every time she talks to you.”

“I just thought she had rosy cheeks,” Peter shrugged. Oliver chuckled, breathing out quietly. He turned to Peter, who sighed when he met his eyes. “I’ve just liked her for a while. It’s… It doesn’t really feel possible that she’d like me back out of nowhere.”

“You never really talked much before, so it’s not out of nowhere,” he said back. Percy and Oliver had always argued, but Penelope and Peter had always stayed out of it. In doing so, they never had the chance to really speak. Peter nodded along as though this made sense. “Oh, and you’ll never believe what Elton said to me today.”

“No, probably not,” Peter laughed. “He’s always saying unbelievable things.”

“He said that I like Percy,” Oliver said with a chuckle. Peter stopped laughing, slowly sitting up. “I… I don’t, though. I mean, I don’t hate him, and I like him as a friend, but not like that, you know?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he shrugged, getting up from the bed, and making his way over to his bag that sat near the door. He turned back while his hand searched the bag. “That’s not so hard to believe. You never stop smiling around him.”

Oliver paused. “That’s what Elton said.”

“And I mean, Percy is a good guy,” Peter told him. “Other than the… you know, insulting you all the time, he’s pretty nice.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Oliver said. 

Peter turned back with a small, plastic bag in his hand. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t blame you if you liked him. In fact, I’d encourage it, because Penelope told me they’re Manchester United fans, which would be perfect for you.”

“He did tell me that today.”

Peter leaned forward, nodding his head as though Oliver finally understood, but he didn’t. He sucked in a deep breath, and nudged the bag closer to Oliver. “My older brother gave me these.”

Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, looking closer to the bag, “Joints?”

“Yeah, do you want to?” Peter asked, raising his eyebrows with a smile. He always knew the answer to that. They smoked for the first time when they were sixteen. They both said they wanted to try it, and of course, they did everything together, so they smoked together too. From then on, they would have the occasional joint. 

“I always do,” Oliver winked, taking one out of the bag, and heading to his window. He grabbed the bottom, pushing it open as he heard Peter’s footsteps behind him. He leaned out the window, holding the joint between his lips as he lit it. He took a puff, and turned back to Peter, while holding his hand out the window. “Why’d he give them to you?”

“We smoked together,” Peter told him, sticking his own head out the window as he took a puff of his own. Peter never enjoyed drinking as much as he enjoyed smoking. Oliver always had a feeling, but didn’t know until Peter told him that alcohol was the centrefold of all his worst memories, so he never liked it very much. “And then he said I could have the rest, because he’d prefer it if I got it from him than anywhere else, and I thought I’d bring them for us.”

“You are the love of my life, Peter Jones,” Oliver swooned with a wink. 

“That title is reserved for Penelope, sorry,” Peter mumbled, tilting his head to the side as he jokingly pouted. 

“Oh, you traitor!” Oliver exclaimed, punching Peter’s arm softly. Peter swerved as he laughed, and continued to smoke his joint. 

Oliver felt as he felt slightly lighter, and felt as his heartbeat quickened, and how he became more aware of it than he had been before. He felt the sting behind his eyes, and how they became heavier than before. And if it was possible, he felt his mind go to static—like it was a radio that had lost its signal. 

“Do you think Penelope and Percy smoke?” Peter asked, sprawled across the floor like a starfish, pushing his fingers though the carpet like he had never felt anything softer in his entire life.

Oliver shook his head, turning it to the side. “No, I don’t know about Penelope, but Percy wouldn’t want to fry his beautiful brain,” he said quietly. 

“Beautiful brain?” Peter chuckled.

Oliver laughed, grabbing a pillow, and launching it at Peter. “Yes, his beautiful brain, Pete. You should hear some of the things he comes up with. He’s just… brilliant if I’m being honest.”

Peter raised his eyebrows in insinuation. “He’s brilliant, is he?”

“Shut up, dickhead. I’m just saying. You talk about Penelope all the time.”

“Yes, because I like her, and I’m not in denial about it like you are,” Peter teased, pointing a finger at him. Oliver balled his hand into a fist, leaving one up to stick the middle finger up at him. Peter laughed, and pushed his body into the floor as he adjusted himself. “There’s nothing wrong with… I don’t know, changing your mind about him.”

“Okay, what if I did like him?” Oliver asked, sitting up. To which, Peter mirrored him, his smile fading away slowly. Oliver lifted his shoulders, letting a breath out as they sank back down. “What exactly would I do, Pete? He doesn’t like me, and don’t you remember what Terence said? They broke up in like… December, because they both started dating two different people. He could still be dating him now.”

“So you do like him?” Peter said, eyebrows furrowing like he wasn’t quite sure.

“Well I’m just saying… if he did like me, I wouldn’t reject him,” Oliver admitted. He had always known who he liked. He knew that included men and women. He knew, because he had met Andrew, Peter’s brother, long ago. Not only did Andrew have a boyfriend, but Oliver had a crush on him. He was the guy who made him realise that he was bisexual, and Peter retched almost every time Oliver mentioned it. “Anyway, I need to go to the loo.”

“Alright,” Peter replied with a smile, still laying on the floor.

Oliver was grateful for his refusal to stand up, because he wasn’t going to the loo. He needed a question answered by Percy. He felt as though everything that had been offered as an explanation for his hatred toward Oliver wasn’t enough. Oliver sank to the bathroom tiled floor, pressing on the contact he had for Percy. 

“Uh, hello?” Percy answered, confusing leaking in his tone. Oliver remembered he hadn’t given Percy his own phone number. He wouldn’t have recognised it.

“Percy Weasley,” Oliver said with a grin spreading across his face, tilting his head against the door, because the world around him still looked different. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Percy grunted. “Of course it’s you. Now my home isn’t even a safe haven.”

“Please tell me why you hate me,” Oliver pleaded, bringing his knees close to his chest. “And it can’t just be because I kicked you in the head with a ball, because that was an accident.”

“What’s—why are you asking me?” Percy asked.

“Because it’s killing me not knowing why,” he said back.

“Why’s it killing you?” He questioned, but he didn’t say it in the way that showed he was confused. He said it like he was curious.

“I don’t know, Percy,” he murmured. “The fact that somebody I’ve known for years hates me so much. I was expecting this to be a good high, but I just feel so sad.”

There was a beat of silence between them for a moment before Percy spoke again. “You’re high?” 

“Oh… shit,” Oliver paused for a moment before laughing, and covering his mouth with his hand to muffle his chuckles. “I did not mean to say that out loud. Oops.”

“Go to bed, Wood,” Percy told him. 

“If you promise to not hate me anymore,” Oliver bargained. 

“You’re demanding the impossible out of me,” he said gently, and it was the softest Oliver had ever heard him speak. His family must have been asleep. 

“Do you talk to everybody like this?” He asked, tilting his head back. 

“No, only you, because no one pisses me off like you,” he replied. 

“Well… that’s good, I suppose,” Oliver shrugged. It meant that the feeling had been mutual. That there was nobody who got to Oliver as much as Percy did, and there was no one who got to Percy as much as Oliver did. He thought he could live with that.

“What’s good?” Percy asked. 

“The fact you only talk to me like that, which begs the question, do you really hate me?” Oliver raised his eyebrows, despite Percy not being able to see his face. 

“Do you hate me, Oliver?”

“No, no, I don’t,” Oliver said quickly. He never hated Percy. Never. “I mean, it pissed me off when you stood in the middle of my football game in year seven. And it pissed me off when we were in year two, and you said I was stupid. It pissed me off in year five, and you sat next to Peter, and wouldn’t move. And it pissed me off when you pulled my chair when I was going to sit in it the same day. And how could I forget? You stole my football in year eight.”

“Uh, that wasn’t me,” Percy said with a chuckle, which was surprising to Oliver. Percy had never laughed unless he was being sarcastic. 

“Well, who else could it have been?” Oliver asked, because despite forgetting the memory, he had figured that it was Percy at the time. They always had issues, so it wasn’t impossible that Percy had taken it, and hid it somewhere. “I kicked you in the head. You must’ve hid it from me.”

“It was Isaac,” Percy laughed, which then explained why he was laughing. Because he was thinking about a memory with one of the only two people he actually liked. “Isaac Winston.”

“Oh… That prick,” Oliver said, glaring at the floor. 

“He’s not that bad once you get on his good side,” Percy told him. 

“And what about you, Percy Weasley?” Oliver asked as he smiled again. He dipped his head forward. “What are you like when someone gets on your good side?”

“You’ll never know, Wood,” Percy said. 

“Wait,” Oliver stopped—do you hate me, Oliver? It was the first time he had ever said his first name. “Wait. You said—you said my name before.”

“Yes, well, Wood is your name,” Percy spoke as though it was obvious. As though he couldn’t even remember calling Oliver by his given name.

“No, you said Oliver,” Oliver firmly stated, because he had, and he said it quite beautifully. And that was when Oliver kind of knew that it was more than not minding if Percy liked him. He wanted that.

“Oh, you must be hallucinating, Wood,” Percy said, and Oliver could hear the smile in his voice, because that was never hard to pick up on with anyone, and his voice sounded different. Lighter, and happier. “I never said that. Must be the drugs getting to you.”

“Hey!” Oliver exclaimed.

“What?” Percy asked as though he was innocent and clueless. 

“Don’t be mean,” Oliver said, but then paused, and looked away from the screen. He sighed, “I mean, I like when you’re mean sometimes. Like I said, chihuahua, y'know? But don’t be mean now.”

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” Percy told him again.

“But…” He began, not wanting to leave the call. He just wanted a little longer. 

“Nope,” Percy answered. “Go to bed, Wood. Sleep it off. Night.”

“Goodnight,” Oliver said back before the screen changed, returning back to the contacts app. Neither Elton or Peter were wrong, because Oliver hadn’t looked forward to seeing someone that much ever. He had never smiled at the sight of a specific person before. 

Maybe that feeling wasn’t as new as he thought it had been either. In year ten, he ran into Percy near the basketball court bathrooms, and he had his back against the wall, glancing at his phone every couple of minutes as though he was waiting for something. Oliver figured that he was waiting for someone specifically, and moments later, he saw him follow a year eleven boy in the bathroom. That had put him in a bad mood for the remainder of the day.

And he was always so angry when Percy and Terence began dating. He would glare at them, wanting to rid himself of the sight of the two of them holding hands, or kissing each other on occasions, but he was unable to look away. He just couldn’t understand why Percy liked Terence. It didn’t make sense to him, and it never made sense why he was so angry about it. 

And they were never really able to stay away from each other. They never stopped arguing, but there was never a week that went by without an interaction between them. It was strange, but it was like there was a string connecting them together—like they were tethered together. They could never get close, but they were never truly able to stay apart. He never knew why, because they disliked each other so much.

But he knew why now.

He liked him. 

Oliver liked Percy.

Chapter Text

Percy stood frozen in front of the sink, gently rubbing a rag against a cup as he gazed into the distance. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the strange phone call he had received the night before, but then again, Oliver had let it slip that he was high, and that could easily explain that, but it didn’t explain the rest. It didn’t explain why Oliver had suddenly started talking to Percy, approaching him when he saw him, and inviting him to do things with Penelope and Peter without even checking with them first. 

Percy had boiled it all down to a joke the night before—a prank call of sorts. He and Oliver had been fucking with each other for so many years at that point, a prank call didn’t seem like an unlikely possibility. But it made no sense. Why prank call somebody and then ask why they hate you? It seemed like a real waste in Percy’s opinion, and he was very experienced in prank calls. He and Penelope used to do it regularly when they were much younger. 

But he did let one possibility cross his mind—maybe Oliver just wanted to talk to him. But he pushed that thought far down, burying it in the layers his feelings for Oliver had lived inside. He had accepted in year eight that there was no chance Oliver would ever feel the same way, and he accepted that even then. So, that perspective had never changed, and he had come to be just fine with that. He was okay with moving on, and never looking back. 

But what do you do when they exist in your past, your present, and your future? Every direction Percy looked, Oliver was always there. Even if he was looking forward, Oliver was still there, and that wouldn’t be going away any time soon. 

But he decided not to read into it. Oliver was just another eighteen year old boy who did stupid things with no underlying reason. Percy decided to leave it at that when Isaac sighed loudly, drawing his attention away from Oliver, and onto him. 

“What’s up with you?” Percy asked, his face screwing up as he stared at Isaac, who had his elbows resting against the countertop, and his chin was in his hands. 

“I’m reminiscing about summer,” Isaac told him with a reminiscent smile, gazing off in the distance. It was like he was remembering something in great detail, and there was usually absolutely nothing that made Isaac smile like that. “It was so beautiful. Lovely really,” he added, his smile dropping a blink later. “And now we’re back at school, and summer is slipping away from me.” 

“That must be so hard, Isaac,” Percy said, placing the cup in the sink as he made his way over to Isaac. It was quiet in the restaurant that day. There were no customers pouring in at that time. He leaned his lower back against the counter beside Isaac, tilting his head to the side. “What is it? Day four of celibacy?”

“Oh, shut up, dickhead,” Isaac chuckled, nudging Percy with his elbow. “Not my fault you have a vow of purity until you get straight A’s, and can shag Oliver Wood.”

“Ah, fuck you,” Percy told him, pointing a finger at him. He was rather focused on school, because that was important to him. He was a prefect, and expected to do well. So of course that was his main priority that year. It was every year, but he didn’t have a vow of purity for Oliver. “That isn’t true. I tell you about a crush from four years ago, and you never fail to bring it up.”

“Because it’s him,” Isaac cringed, his nose wrinkling as though he had remembered what Oliver looked like. He acted like Oliver was disgusting, but some of the guys Isaac had been with were much worse. Much worse. “Gross.”

“He was high last night, and he called me,” Percy murmured quietly, because he was never able to keep a secret from Isaac or Penelope, but that wasn’t something he was particularly proud of. 

“He what?” Isaac gaped, pushing himself off the counter to stand upright. He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head as though he was attempting to make sense of Percy’s words. “What the fuck, Perce?”

“Yep,” Percy mumbled, turning his body to face the counter, and face away from Isaac. 

“Well? What’d he say?” He asked, lifting his shoulders as if he needed that question answered immediately. 

Percy sighed, shrugging his shoulders, “He was asking why I hate him so much, and that it was killing him not knowing why.”

“Oh, he wants you,” Isaac laughed as he nodded his head. He shuffled his body closer to Percy, raising his eyebrows as he lowered his voice for dramatic effect, because he always made everything much more dramatic than it had to be. “Bet he’s thinking about you right now.” 

Percy rolled his eyes, and dropped his gaze to the register. When you thought about someone so much, it was hard to ever believe that they could be thinking that much about you. Maybe he occasionally passed through Oliver’s mind, but he doubted Oliver had been thinking of him at all. He softly traced his fingers over the surface, trying to pass the time. 

Shifts were always so much worse when the restaurant was slow. There wasn’t much to do, which meant that the hours dragged by, and Percy was stuck there basically losing his mind. He would check the clock for what seemed like every hour, but turned out to be ten minutes that passed. Time always passed by so much slower when he was waiting for something, and at that moment, he was waiting for his shift to end, so he could return home. 

The following day was Monday, which meant back to school—which meant that he would have to see Oliver after that phone call he couldn’t let slip from his mind for even one moment. It was killing him. How much work he had put it into getting over Oliver, only for those feelings to flood back in as soon as summer ended. They had always been there, but he had gotten incredible at pretending they didn’t. 

“And I was right,” Isaac whispered over his shoulder. “Your boyfriend is here.”

“What?” Percy lifted his eyes suddenly. That last sentence could mean anybody. Any of the guys he had liked at some point, because Isaac never let him forget for even a second. But when his eyes focused, Oliver stood there with Peter behind him again. Percy’s face dropped, “Oh, you.”

“Me?” Oliver questioned, holding his hands up as though he was confused. Like he didn’t know why Percy was annoyed.  

“Have fun last night?” Percy asked, dropping his eyes, because he couldn’t stand to look at Oliver for too long. It seemed stupid to everybody else, but unrequited love really did chew at you, and took bits of yourself away from you. Those bits would stay with Oliver forever. 

“Fun?” Oliver repeated, sounding confused. Percy lifted his eyes for a moment, raising his eyebrows as if that would remind him about what he was referring to. Realisation washed over Oliver, and he lifted his hand up to his neck, clearing his throat, which always seemed to be his go-to-action when something seemed to unsettle him. “Oh, yeah, that. Listen, I—“

"It's okay, Wood,” Percy answered before Oliver could finish. He knew what he was going to say. That he was sorry. That he didn’t know what he was thinking. So, Percy saved him the breath and the energy that came along with saying those words. “You were high. We all make stupid phone calls in time like those. It’s forgotten.”

“Oh, erm, that’s not…” Oliver trailed off, shaking his head with a chuckle, but as he lifted his eyes, and found Percy, who was shaking his head with confusion, it looked as though something had shifted inside Oliver. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” Percy mumbled. “What do you want?”

“The same as last time, please,” Oliver told him. His entire demeanor had shifted really. It went from somewhat tense to another form of tense, like he was carrying some weight with him everywhere he went. Maybe he really hadn’t wanted to call Percy, but none of Percy’s dumb decisions had come from when he was stoned. But maybe he felt guilty.

“Okay, I’ll bring it out,” he said back, beginning to turn around to collect and make everything.

“Er, Percy?” Oliver murmured gently. 

“What?” Percy snapped, turning around again. 

“I need to pay,” he said with a soft laugh. 

“Right,” Percy said with a nod, approaching the register again. He cleared his throat, and glanced at the screen. He lifted his gaze to Oliver. “Cash or card?” 

“Cash,” Oliver told him, holding the note between pinched fingers. 

Percy grabbed it, accidentally brushing his fingers against Oliver’s. He snatched his hand away, feeling as the chills spread all over his body, and he hated it. He hated how easily Oliver could make Percy’s entire world just… skew. Heat waves flashed everywhere on him, and he dropped his eyes, “Thanks,” he mumbled, waving his wand to gesture Oliver away. 

He was just so… annoyed. He was annoyed at everything. He was annoyed that he had met Oliver in the first place. He was annoyed that he had fallen for Oliver in year seven. He was annoyed that Oliver had kicked a ball into his head, and in doing so, tore fourteen year old Percy’s world apart. He was annoyed that he tried so hard to get over Oliver, but it was like walking in a circle, and ending up in the same place over and over. 

Like there was some invisible, magnetic force attached to them, and brought them back to each other again and again, or brought Percy back to Oliver again. But they were one of the same—magnets made of the same charge—which meant they could never stick. They weren’t compatible, and nothing could ever change that. 

It was like some sadistic, all powerful God was ensuring that Percy spent the remainder of his days with a chest ache he could never quite rid himself of. It would always exist as long as his feelings for Oliver lived on. And as long as Oliver was around, those feelings would be, too. 

~•~

Monday passed, and Percy shared no classes with Oliver, which meant he could easily physically avoid him. However, he couldn’t avoid the thoughts that trickled back in at all times. Whether he saw Oliver passing him, or saw a spot on a blank wall that reminded him of him, there was no escape. Everywhere he turned, Oliver was there, even if he wasn’t really. 

It was unbelievably irritating, and unbelievably frustrating. It was like a sickness spreading to every inch of his body, and it was terminal. Whether it was physical or not, it was eating away at him until there was nothing left to feed on. Because he didn’t want it. He didn’t want Oliver, and he didn’t want those feelings to hang over him at all times. He wanted to feel okay without feeling like there was an empty void in his life that was meant for Oliver. 

But he had decided that he would no longer engage. That when Oliver spoke to him, he would respond in small bits. Never too much. If he kept it short, the conversations would remain short, which meant there was no time to obsess over anything Oliver said, and eventually, those conversations would just… go away. It wasn’t something he particularly wanted, but he knew it was for the better. 

He had been mentally preparing himself all day for Chemistry. He ran all possible conversation routes through his head, but maybe Oliver wouldn’t bother at all. For the sake of Percy moving on, he hoped Oliver wouldn’t say a word. But he was almost completely predictable, and Percy knew he would.

They were ten minutes into class, and it was no surprise that Oliver wasn’t there yet. He was often late, especially at the beginning of the year. He had always helped year sevens. Mostly because he already knew some of them from his soccer club. Percy recognised many faces from the nights Fred, George, Ginny, or Ron had training. 

“Hi,” Oliver predictably said to him as he placed his belongings on the table for a change—instead of dropping them carelessly, and there was a pen in his other hand, which meant he didn’t have to ask Percy for one. Percy didn’t reply. He didn’t even flinch. He just stared forward, avoiding looking in Oliver’s direction. Oliver paused, “Okay… Erm, I forgot to ask, but did you submit the assignment yesterday?”

“Yes, I did,” Percy mumbled, and Oliver released a relieved exhale, and he really couldn’t help himself with what he said next. He was just so angry. “Because my head isn’t halfway up my own arse.” 

“Well, I beg to differ,” Oliver chuckled, softly tapping his elbow into the side of Percy’s arm. Percy tightly squeezed his jaw, turning to Oliver to shoot a glare at him. “Oh, I’m not scared, Percy. If all you can is glare, then I—“ 

Percy glanced at his hand for a moment before digging it into Oliver’s side. That was something Bill had always done to him when he wanted to piss him off, or tease him. Every time, it caused Percy to jump away, and yelp. However, Percy always expected it. Oliver didn’t, and he yelled out, jumping slightly off his seat. Percy wasn’t expecting that reaction, and immediately dropped his eyes in anticipation of Oliver immediately blaming him as Snape turned around. 

“Mr Wood, is there a problem?” Snape glided across the floor, because he always wore those shabby robes. Like they were living in an old-school institution, and they had to dress like that. Percy tried to imagine him in anything else, but somehow those robes seemed the most suitable for him. Oliver paused, avoiding meeting Snape’s or Percy’s eyes. “You show up late, and continue to disrupt the class.” 

“No—I, er…” Oliver began, glancing at Percy for just a moment, and he knew then that Oliver would rat him out. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t blame Oliver. If the shoe was on the other foot, Percy would’ve immediately pointed to him. But that didn’t happen. “I’m sorry, Sir, it won’t happen again.”

Why wouldn’t he just tell him? 

“Good,” Snape nodded, but there was a hint of surprise and confusion. He glanced at Percy, who immediately looked down again to avoid any lecture. He bit on his lip, folding his arms tightly over his chest. Snape turned back to Oliver. “Next time, and it’s a detention.” 

Oliver bobbed his head, sliding down in his seat as he opened his book, scribbling the date in the corner of the page along with the title he found on Percy’s notebook. He leaned closer to Percy like he was trying to form a clearer view of his page. When anybody was late, they were required to make up the time for themselves. This was clearly an attempt at that. 

“Could I have your notes?” He asked in a low voice, careful to not let Snape overhear him, because he would be sentenced to an afternoon detention. They usually took place on Tuesdays, and as Oliver had previously stated, he had training on those days. And Percy knew Oliver would never let anything interfere with that. 

“Ask someone who actually cares, Wood,” Percy mumbled, his eyes switching between the screen at the front, and his own book as he copied the notes down. Again, he was keeping it short. As long as he kept it short, there was nothing to stress about.

“What?” Oliver asked softly. Almost like he was actually hurt by anything Percy could say to him. His shoulders sank, and he leaned forward. He shook his head, like he was searching for an answer that could explain that. “Are you mad about the phone call?”

“No, I said it is forgotten,” Percy lied, because it wasn’t forgotten. He replayed that memory so many times in the past few days that he had lost count. Of course, he would never allow Oliver the satisfaction of knowing he had that effect on him. “I don’t care, and I care even less about you.” 

“Okay, well… Oliver paused like he was trying to find the words again. It seemed like he was clueless, confused, and unsure about everything at that moment. Like he was losing his mind just as Percy was, “I couldn’t care any less about you either,” 

“Okay, good,” Percy nodded, pushing down the feeling of breaking into tears and nausea as far down as it could possibly go. “Shut up, then.”

“Shut up then,” Oliver mocked him, shifting his voice into a higher pitch, and laying back in his seat. 

Percy rolled his eyes, and he hadn’t realised how hard it would be. He had trained himself for years to hide his true feelings under mountains of hostility. Growing up with six siblings meant constant fights, and he never allowed them to see that he was upset about anything. He had gotten really good at it, too, but now, it was all hitting a nerve. 

A nerve that felt too much like a fresh wound, splitting him open for judging gazes under a magnifying glass. He felt like everybody could see him falling apart. 

~•~

Percy was sitting on his usual bench in the school yard, scrolling on his laptop, and Penelope was sitting across from him when there was an announcement over the speakers for all year twelves to gather in the hall. Their year rarely got into trouble for anything, so Percy couldn’t imagine what they needed to collect the entire year for. He glanced at Penelope as if she might have known. She didn’t, and shrugged her shoulders. 

The two of them walked side by side, making their way to the hall, along with groups of people following behind them. Terence, Elton, and Gemma walked in a group of three, and Marcus was nowhere to be found. Oliver and Peter lagged slightly behind them, and Oliver was still angry with Percy. Percy knew it was reasonable. He had been rude to him, but he couldn’t fix it. 

Isaac was somewhere unknown. He usually did that, though. He disappeared to places without letting them know where he was going. Percy didn’t mind. He had gotten used to it over time, and Isaac usually explained it after. Percy would save him a seat either way. He always did. 

Percy followed Penelope down the row of seats, finding that they were sitting beside Ivy, which was another one of Penelope’s closest friends. They never hung out at school, but they were often together outside of it. Percy could never remember how they became friends, but he always knew that they were close. 

“Any idea what it’s about, Ivy?” Penelope asked as she sat down beside her, but Ivy was clearly distracted about something. It was most likely the fact Eleanor was sitting beside her. Percy knew they had been neighbours since Eleanor moved to their town a couple of years ago, and Ivy immediately had a crush on her, because she never tried to hide it.

Eleanor always isolated herself despite the fact she and Ivy were friends, and Percy respected that. He had only spoken to her on a few occasions. When he spoke to her, he never would’ve guessed that she preferred to be alone, because she didn’t hold back speaking to him, which was how Percy knew if Ivy would just ask her to do something one on one, she wouldn’t turn it down. Eleanor liked Ivy, too, but neither of them ever bothered to actually do anything about it. 

They shared longing glances between each other. Eleanor glared jealously when other guys approached Ivy at parties, or at the shopping centre the three main schools—Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts—went to after school ended. Ivy never glared, but that was because she never had a negative emotion. Not any that she was willing to show, anyway. 

“The sixth form retreat,” Ivy whispered back as Penelope leaned toward her. Penelope straightened with excitement, glancing at Percy, but there was not a single thing that was exciting about that for him. Every school retreat was split into different gender groups, which meant Percy was left alone. It might be more bearable now that he had Isaac though. “Slughorn let it slip to my dad.”

Percy didn't know much about Ivy’s father, except that many people had their own theories about how he got that rich—tax evasion, embezzlement, and so much more. Ivy would often deny it casually. Like it never bothered her that people accused her dad of being some sort of criminal. But it had to. 

“Oh, god bless good old Sluggy,” Penelope chuckled, pouting jokingly as she placed a hand over her heart. Slughorn was the mathematics teacher, and he was good at it. But he wasn’t good for much more than that. “Can’t keep a secret for his life.” 

“Surprised he’s kept it this long from the students,” Percy commented, leaning forward.

“I know right,” Ivy laughed, twisting her head to him. Her hair was long, falling past her shoulders, and always had some sort of flower, or butterfly, or another strange hairclip twisted into a small braid, while she left the rest of her hair out. Her hair was a blazing red, very similar to Percy’s hair. She had pale skin that almost looked like it glistened in the sun. 

She was really the classic girl next door. She had beauty that almost everybody envied, and kindness that made everybody look past the ethereality. She carried herself with grace, which was what made it so easy for people to fall for her. But she didn’t have eyes for anybody until Eleanor came around. 

There was not much Percy actually knew about Eleanor, but she had a great scar over her face, like a slash from some sort of monster. Her skin was bronze with a sunkissed glow to it. She had dark, curly hair with empty eyes. It was as though she was trying to mask every thought that passed through her mind, but the one thing he did know was that she felt the same way about Ivy. It wasn’t long until they went back to staring at each other. 

They were friends. It wasn’t like they never spoke. But Ivy was Eleanor’s first friend when she moved there. The one time Percy had spoken to her at a party, she was drunk, and accidentally let it slip that she didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had built. But if anyone could last through high school, it would be them.

They didn’t have eyes for anybody but each other. 

Oliver and Peter came in shortly after, and Percy didn’t know what had taken them so long. They were right behind Percy and Penelope. Oliver walked in front of Peter, shooting a glare at Percy before he sat in front of him. Percy rolled his eyes, lifting one leg over the other, but not before he let his foot bump Oliver’s chair. Oliver twisted his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and Percy shrugged his shoulders as though he hadn’t done that on purpose. 

A moment later, Isaac dropped beside Percy with his arms folded like he was pissed off about something, which was unusual especially for him. He never really let anything bother him. But before he had the chance to ask, McGonagall cleared her throat, earning the attention of the entire year that was spread across the rows of chairs. 

“Take up the first three rows, because I do not want to shout,” she told them, not saying another word as the group a few rows behind Percy groaned with annoyance. Of course, it was Elton, Terence, Gemma, and Marcus. Marcus appeared unbelievably annoyed as he dropped beside Isaac, immediately slumping in his chair with his arms crossed. McGonagall nodded, and continued, “So, you may be wondering why we called you in here today.”

“It’s because of Marcus, isn’t it, Miss?” Isaac said, pointing his thumb at Marcus as he sat forward. He sighed, and turned to Marcus as he threw his arms in the air, “Thanks a lot, Marcus, good going. Now our break has been interrupted.” 

Marcus rolled his eyes, dipping his head back as he turned to look at him. Or rather, to glare at him. Isaac smirked, looking awfully proud of himself as Marcus expressed his irritation. 

“That’s enough, Mr Winston. No, we haven’t brought you here for anything negative, and it’s definitely not because of anything Mr Flint did,” McGonagall explained before she was interrupted again. 

“See!” Marcus sat up as though he actually assumed it was something he did. He folded his arms again, sliding down in his seat as he mumbled with slight embarrassment, “Moron.”

“Yes, I do see,” Isaac nodded with evident satisfaction, a grin spreading across his face. 

“Yes, well,” McGonagall started again, clearing her throat loudly. Isaac turned away from Marcus, looking back at McGonagall. “The sixth form retreat is a tradition we have maintained every year, and it will be taking place toward the end of next month. It’ll be at Triwizard Camp. Two other schools will be there at the same time—Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.”

“Eugh, not them,” Isaac murmured to Percy, grabbing the attention of Marcus again, who slowly looked over to him as though he wanted to know what he was going to say. Percy suspected Isaac wasn’t excited to see them, because he had ghosted half of them. “The Beauxbaton boys always think they’re so… and they’re honestly not.” 

“Thank you for your constant, unneeded contributions, Mr Winston,” McGonagall told him. 

“You’re very welcome, Miss,” Isaac nodded proudly, to which Terence sniggered beside them, appearing extremely amused by this. Percy honestly pitied any teacher that got stuck with the both of them in the same class. 

McGonagall ignored this, and continued again, “Girls and boys will be split, and believe me, I understand the problems that exist inside that, but that’s just how it works. Each room will have seven people with three bunk beds, and one extra bed—no more, and no less, because of the other schools. I will be sending the names out in an email. I will be picking your roommates, but I will focus on keeping you with your friends. However, if you do have any serious problems with your rooms, I am willing to switch it for your comfort., Mr Slughorn, Mr Snape, myself, and Miss Olivia Green—a new teacher this year—will be coming.”

“Not Snape!” Terence exclaimed. 

“Mr Higgs,” Snape mumbled from behind him.

“Oh, erm,” Terence murmured, squinting his eyes, and curling his lip like he was thinking of something to say. “I meant not Snape! Because he’ll let us have too much fun.” 

Snape just nodded, walking away, because Terence always got away with things that no one else could. He still got into trouble more than anybody else, but Percy thought that the teachers began picking their battles. Elton shielded his face with his hands, covering up the fact that he was about to explode with laughter. 

“If there’s any more questions, feel free to come to any of the teachers here,” McGonagall stated, gesturing around to each teacher that stood in front of them, which included Slughorn, McGonagall, Snape, and Miss Green. “Miss Green will be passing out the permission forms. Once you have yours, you will be free to go. Miss Green?”

Miss Green looked as though she had been zoning out with the pile of papers tucked under her arm. It was evident on her face, like she had been brought back to reality, when she lifted her eyes once again. “Oh, yes,” she nodded, and stepped forward as she passed out each note. 

~•~

Percy lounged in his desk chair with a notebook on his lap. He was studying, but at that moment, he was gazing at his wall, unintentionally staring at the pictures that he had of his friends hanging on the wall. He had his feet perched on the mahogany surface, blinking only when he remembered he had to. 

There was a blank space there. A picture that he had taken down over the summer. There was a party at Terence’s house before school ended, because his parents were away, and Percy brought Ethan with him. It was the first party they went to together, and Penelope, despite her complaints about him, had taken the photo of them sitting on a lawn chair together. Even when it wasn’t on his wall, he could still see it. It would always be there. 

Much like the pain that occurred when the memory of Ethan and the girl twisted in bedsheets came back to him. He always wanted Ethan to be in as much pain as Percy had been in, but when Isaac told him about the fact he was sad, he found that did not cure anything inside him. He wanted Ethan to suffer in the same way. To be exiled to a life with nothing and no one to love. Percy wanted him to understand what that was like. 

He wanted him to know what it was like to really fall for someone for the first time in years. To have somebody reassure you. Make you feel like you weren’t used up and alone, only for them to hurt you more than anybody else ever had. He had never felt pain like that in his life, except when he was fourteen, and the ball had hit him. But at that point, he didn’t know how bad it could really get. And over the summer, it got that bad. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that studying isn’t the only important thing, Perce?” A voice he could recognise anywhere asked him from his door, pulling him out of the rabbit hole he always found himself inside. Percy turned around, smiling as he found Charlie with his arm against the frame of the door.

“None,” He answered, pretending that he wasn’t happy to see him. He loved his siblings, but of course, he could never let them know that. He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side as he spun around in his chair. “Give up the crusade, Charlie, will you?” 

Charlie grinned, holding his hands up as he sat at the end of Percy’s bed. 

“How’s everything?” Percy asked.

“Oh, work’s been great,” Charlie told him, nodding his head. 

Percy raised his eyebrows. “And how many times do I have to tell you work isn’t the only important thing?”

“I know,” Charlie laughed, dropping his gaze as he cringed for a moment. He placed his hands on his knees, leaning slightly forward as though he was thinking of whether or not he should tell Percy whatever he was thinking. “I’ve been, uh, seeing someone.”

“Who?” Percy asked, arching an eyebrow sceptically. 

Charlie always steered away from dating. Always. Percy never knew why. He never asked why, because he always felt there was a reason behind it. Most likely a personal one you would never be willing to tell your brother. Percy knew he had dated someone in high school, because he had always heard him on the phone at late hours of the night. But he never saw him with anyone, and he never thought to ask who.

“Knew him back in school,” Charlie explained with a nervous shrug, and it was like he was purposefully forgetting to just say the name of the man. “We’re—Well, we are reconnecting.” 

“Again, who?” Percy asked again.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to say, because if you say anything to anyone, it could mean trouble,” Charlie told him.

“Oh my god, Charlie, I’m your brother,” Percy said with a laugh, shaking his head. He lifted his shoulders, staring at him. “Just tell me.” 

“You know the band the Weird Sisters?” 

“Well, yeah, I do,” Percy nodded, not understanding how that could possibly be relevant. They knew Myron when he was in school, and Charlie wasn’t a fan of him, so he couldn’t have gone and met somebody at their concert.

“Yeah, Myron,” Charlie confessed finally. Oh. Percy’s eyebrows furrowed, thinking back to when they used to go to the school, but they never interacted much. Charlie had his friend group, and Myron wasn’t a part of it. But it did occur to him that the mystery boy on the phone back in those days could have been him. “I’m seeing Myron. But you can’t say anything to anybody, okay?”

“I’ll tell Penelope,” Percy told him with honesty. He told her everything, really. There was not a time in his life that she wasn’t in. He’d practically lose it if she wasn’t by side, especially since her fathers and his mother were close. They were basically just following in their footsteps, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Yes, well she’s not just anybody, is she?” Charlie replied, like he didn’t mind if Penelope knew, because all of his siblings had come to like her too. She was practically family. “How is she, though?” 

“Oh, she’s good,” he told him, nodding. “Her and Peter have been talking lately. Peter, as in Wood’s friend. And I have Chemistry with Wood, and Snape put us in a fucking seating chart, so I’m stuck next to him for the rest of the year, and he’s just being annoying as usual, and acting clueless like he doesn’t know why I hate him so much.”

“Old habits die hard, don’t they, Perce?” Charlie said with a smirk, letting his back fall to the mattress, and using his arms to hold him slightly up. 

“What are you talking about, Charlie?” Percy asked with a sigh. 

“You still like him,” Charlie stated, snapping back up. He raised his eyebrows, like he was urging Percy to just be honest, but he was honest. He did hate him. For the reason that his heart could barely stand being without him. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Percy told him, shaking his head. “I can’t stand him.”

“Uh huh,” Charlie smirked, nodding his head slowly, insinuating that Percy was lying. But it wasn’t entirely a lie anyway. He was still working out exactly what it was, but he didn’t want Oliver. He just didn’t. 

“Oh, shut up,” Percy said to him, flicking his pen at him as he swiveled in his chair. He sighed loudly, shifting the conversation elsewhere. He smiled, “Anyway, how’d you get back in contact with Myron? I thought he’d be too famous for anybody in our small town.”

Charlie laughed, running his fingers through his hair, a smile almost immediately spreading across his face. The same crooked grin that was plastered to his face whenever Percy walked in on him on the phone with the mystery guy, “Uh, yeah, well I think… I think he’s moved to New York, so he was visiting the zoo that I work at. And of course, the band asked to come privately, because they’d be harassed by fans. And I was working that day, and I saw him again.”

~•~

Charlie never got tired of working at the zoo. He had always been awfully obsessed with all animals when he was younger. He had little figurines all around his room, piles of books about different animals, and shirts with pictures of animals. He was always labelled as weird by the people around him, but the fact he played football, and was decent looking, made up for that. It did for the girls in his year who were not aware he was gay. 

The zoo had been closed that day, and no one bothered to tell him why, but he was still working. He was always working, because he loved it so much. He was honestly just being paid to indulge in his childhood obsession, and he had the time of his life almost every single day.

He was walking down the hallway of the reptile enclosure when he was stopped in his tracks. The man wore a plain black, slightly oversized shirt, and black jeans with a chain attached to the belt. Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. The zoo was closed that day, so he had no idea how that man was able to get inside that day. 

“Uh, hello? You’re not supposed to be in here,” Charlie told the man, whose body almost immediately snapped to Charlie after watching the snake in the enclosure. It was… Myron. That was why it was closed. The Weird Sisters were touring that year. They must have just performed in London, or were going to. Charlie lost track of Myron after school—after their brief, but calamitous relationship. 

Charlie was heartbroken at the time. It wasn’t his first heartbreak, nor was it his last. And it had been four years. He was well over it at that point.

Well, he thought he was until his heart raced the same way it did four years ago.

“Actually, I am,” Myron answered. Charlie nodded, dropping his gaze. If it had been any other celebrity, Charlie would have felt completely humiliated. But it was only Myron, and it was difficult to find a person you had known since your childhood intimidating. “My mates wanted to come here. Just didn’t want to be harassed by anybody.”

“Well, I’m sure there’ll be a helicopter hovering at some point today, so don’t get your hopes up,” Charlie laughed, continuing to walk down the hall, and stopping when he reached Myron to look at the snake too. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Myron folded his arms, turning his body back to the enclosure. He smiled, gently nudging Charlie, “I was expecting to see you. You really were obsessed. Still are, I suppose.” 

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, suppose so,” he said, and stepped closer to the glass. He cleared his throat. “This is a European Common Adder, or Viper. Also known as vipera berus. One of my favourites, really.”

“Are they rare, or something?” Myron asked, because he had never once stopped Charlie from speaking about his animals. Although, Charlie never knew if Myron ever really remembered anything he told him. He was brilliant at guitar, and had a beautiful voice, but that was always as far as his talent went—he didn’t try in anything else. Charlie knew that if he really did put in the effort, he could do it easily. 

“Uh, no, they’re common.”

“Oh, right,” Myron said, and then laughed softly. “Hence the name.”

Charlie smiled, “Exactly,” he nodded. “They don’t bite or attack unless really provoked, stepped on, or picked up, and their bites can be awfully painful, but are hardly ever fatal.”

“Wouldn’t know by looking at it,” Myron mumbled, staring as though he couldn’t look away. Like it might jump out of the glass barrier, and attack him. 

“Well, snakes are seriously misunderstood creatures, honestly,” Charlie murmured, shaking his head as he stared at it. Myron stared in fear, but Charlie gazed in awe. There would never come a day that he would get sick of working there. 

“You know, it’s, uh, hot when you start rambling,” Myron told him, leaning closer to him.

Charlie blinked and cleared his throat, looking away from the snake, “So, how’ve you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been okay,” Myron told him, blinking over to Charlie. Charlie raised his eyebrows. That couldn’t be all. “Well, the band started getting a lot of attention years ago, which seems like it hasn’t been a long time, but fame… It isn’t all I thought it would be.”

“No?” Charlie asked. 

“Well, I can hardly do my groceries without the paparazzi showing up… Or about ten people asking for a photo,” he chuckled, lifting his shoulders with a sigh. “And I mean, the dating scene is awful. Have to go through everything with my PR team first, and I haven’t met a single person that is actually decent.”

“Well, I hardly think any other celebrity would be humble,” Charlie laughed, pressing his elbow gently into Myron’s arm. Myron smiled, dipping his head forward.

“And how have you been?” He asked.

“Oh, good,” Charlie told him. “Great, really. I started working here this year, and honestly, I’m hardly ever back at home. This is pretty much my entire life.”

“Don’t have anybody waiting for you at home?” Myron said, shaking his head, and biting his lip.

Charlie exhaled a laugh, “Oh, definitely not. I mean, I dated someone last year for about… I don’t know, six months, I think. But I’ve been focused on this now,” he explained, glancing back at Myron, who was already looking at him. “I live alone now, and after living with six siblings, I enjoy the quiet.”

“Well, I’ve had quiet all my life, and now I hardly get it,” Myron said, his face twitching, like when he remembered he was famous, he remembered that he didn’t want to be. It was all Myron ever wanted when they were younger, but he had only ever been on the spectator view, never in the position where every move was scrutinised, and carefully monitored. “You should come to our London show. It’s, uh, tomorrow night. It’d be great to have a familiar face there.”

“I’m—where exactly would I sit?” Charlie asked. He hadn’t been to a concert for himself in years, except when he had taken Penelope and Percy to see Taylor Swift. 

“The VIP tent,” Myron shrugged as though that was normal. The thing was Charlie had gotten over Myron from years ago, and he didn’t know if he’d really want that version of him—the one who barely knew a life of peace. The one who casually dropped the phrase London show, like they weren’t performing in the biggest stadium in the country, and VIP tent as if that was a thing in a normal person’s life. “We could catch up afterwards. I’ll talk to my team. Get you backstage.”

Charlie glanced at him. It had only been four years, and Myron didn’t look different at all. He wore that same black eyeliner he had been obsessed with in school, and he wore the same smile he always had. He spoke in the same raspy voice as he used to. Nothing about him had changed, but everything in his life had. 

He was Myron Wagtail—the same one that Charlie had spent hours on the phone with every night for months on end. He was Myron Wagtail—the new and improved version that so many adored, and crowds sobbed when they saw him in the flesh. But which one outweighed the other? 

“Yeah,” Charlie finally decided. Myron’s chest sank as though he had been holding his breath the entire time. 

~•~

Charlie avoided meeting the gaze of anybody at the show. He felt as though he was raising suspicions from the crowd, even though they were too busy looking at the actual stage. Myron wasn’t much different there. He still maintained the same personality he had off of it. Charlie supposed that it was just the personal stuff that should be kept a secret—not everything about him.

As the show went on, his focus was drawn less from the people around him, and more onto Myron, who managed to keep the attention of ninety thousand people around him, which was unbelievably incredible. They played different songs, which earned different responses from the audience, varying from dancing around, screaming the lyrics, and absolutely sobbing.

Myron kept the song he had written from when he was with Charlie, singing it acoustically, saying, “This goes out to a very special person, who knows exactly who they are,” which earned awes from the crowd at once. That was when people began looking back at the VIP tent, seeing if there was anybody that they recognised, because Myron Wagtail would never date a person who wasn’t famous. 

After the show, somebody from Myron’s team grabbed him, and led him backstage. Their face was cold, and emotionless as they knocked on the door with Myron’s name plastered in white, block writing. They nodded when he answered from inside the room. Charlie entered, glancing at the person, who walked away, and rushed off to do whatever task they had to.

“Hey,” Myron said, standing up immediately. He wore a white button up top with black dress pants. Almost like an actual suit, but not really. It was the same clothes he wore during his performance. “Thought I’d get them to bring you here, so I could warn you, because the fans usually wait at the back gate.”

“Oh, right, sounds lovely,” Charlie commented, imagining how many people actually waited for them. Myron shrugged, leaning against the desk he had just been sitting at. Charlie hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip before he decided to stand beside him. He dropped his lower back against the table, glancing at him. “People started looking back when you said that thing about the very special person, but they looked past me completely. Probably looking for someone they recognise.”

“I am rumoured to be dating about three different people right now,” Myron joked, tilting his head to the side. He glanced at Charlie with the same smile. Myron softly pushed his shoulder against his, “But you’re the only one that matters. I’ve missed you, you know. When everything got too much, I just always thought of you, and I hoped we’d find our way back.”

Charlie smiled, feeling his heart race again, but not in a bad way. In the type of way where your heart could sense their presence, and understood what it was beating for. “I always loved that song.”

“Well, half the ones I write are about you,” Myron told him, turning his head to him. Charlie’s mouth fell slightly open with his eyes dropping to Myron’s lips, remembering the first ever time they kissed, but that time became irrelevant when Myron pushed his lips against Charlie’s again.

~•~

Charlie told Percy the story of how they ran into each other again, and what followed that moment. Percy was happy for him. More than happy, really. Because he always deserved somebody that made him smile like that, and he had found that. It wasn’t like he didn’t want that for others, but he wondered why it didn’t happen for him. 

It seemed like the world was passing him by, and he was watching everybody fall in love with people who also loved them right in front of him, while being left behind. He wanted to focus on school, and ensure that he finished on a strong note before he left for university. But he couldn’t help but envy those people. Why did he have to fall asleep every night knowing nobody felt his absence?

“Oh, that’s Girl A from the fight last week,” Isaac told him, sliding beside him. It was the weekend, and he was working yet again. There was never a weekend that passed that he wasn’t working anymore.

“I think her name is Maria,” Percy murmured, glancing up at Isaac’s words. It was Marcus, Maria, and a man that could only be their father, walking in and glancing around the restaurant finding a place to sit.

“That makes more sense,” Isaac nodded, his lips forming into a thin line like some mystery had finally been solved. Percy’s eyebrows furrowed. Isaac sighed like he was tired of explaining everything, but he was the only person who actually cared about that stuff. “She was getting into a fight with the other girl because she was shit talking about her family. Keep up, Perce.”

“Ah,” Percy hummed, turning away, because he was not taking an order from Marcus’ father, who was a terrifying man. If looks could kill, Marcus’ dad could easily achieve that. 

“Go order, Marcus,” Marcus’ dad told him, gesturing toward the register, and Percy was even more glad that he didn’t have to take an order from Marcus. That responsibility was left to Isaac now, who still seemed somewhat oblivious to the fact.

“But Father—“ Marcus tried to say, but he was quickly cut off, and dipped his head like he was avoiding meeting his father’s gaze again. Percy knew that look, because he saw it from Terence around his dad. 

“Marcus, go order,” his dad repeated, but slower as though Marcus wouldn’t understand if he said it any quicker. Percy rolled his eyes, because he had a feeling that Marcus’ parents weren’t the nicest of people, and that man was just patronising and condescending as he waved Marcus away.

Marcus walked away, his facial expression flipping into annoyance as soon as he disappeared from his father’s sight. 

“Family bonding time, is it?” Isaac asked, pressing his hips against the counter with his hands gripping onto the register as Marcus approached him. He asked so… casually, like talking to him that way wasn’t something necessarily new.

“Trauma bonding time,” Marcus corrected in a low mumble, but there was something hidden behind his lips. Percy had hardly ever seen Marcus smile around anybody that wasn’t Gemma, Elton, or Terence. That was reserved for them, but it was hard to miss at that time. It was extremely hard to miss when his expression softened like he was breathing in a breath of fresh air after being oxygen starved when he met Isaac’s eyes. 

Percy didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before, because it was apparent to him then. Marcus liked him, and as Percy looked at Isaac, he realised Isaac liked him too. He smiled through all his words, looking away every time Marcus looked at him. He was nervous. Isaac was actually nervous around somebody. 

Marcus pressed a card against the reader, and walked away, and Isaac’s eyes followed him as he approached his family again. 

Percy slowly made his way to Isaac, speaking in a low voice from beside him, “So, you’ve got that well under control.”

“What?” Isaac asked, visibly being brought back to reality, like Marcus had introduced a new universe to him just by walking into the same room. Somewhere that only the two of them existed inside. God knows Marcus needed that. It seemed like a world only the two of them knew about. No one else was allowed.

“You and him,” Percy said like it was obvious, gesturing a pointed finger between Isaac and the spot Marcus once stood. 

“What?” Isaac repeated, his face screwing up as if that was unbelievable. As if the tension between them wasn’t painfully visible. Isaac had a flirtatious exterior. He flirted with every pretty guy that walked through those doors, but he seemed… weak when he found Marcus. And that was what love did to people. Only love could do that to a person. “There is nothing going on there, Perce.” 

Percy nodded as Isaac wandered off to do the dishes, which he refused to do the majority of the time. He was clearly… ashamed of it, and he had never been ashamed of any hookup with any guy. But maybe he was scared of wanting more, because that meant there was more to lose in the end. But… Isaac didn’t show the same signs as Percy when confronted. It was like he knew. He knew he had those feelings, and he wasn’t burying them, or tucking them away. He was just keeping them a secret.

Chapter Text

Oliver walked into Percy’s work, preparing to tell him how he felt. He was going to ask him if he would like to go out. He didn’t know much about dating, really, but he was well prepared for it. Then, Percy had labelled it as a stupid phone call, and he knew there was no chance that he felt even a fraction of what Oliver had been feeling. 

He was just sad, honestly. There was no other way to put it. His heart had never been broken by another person, because he never cared for anybody as much as he had cared about football. But Percy was coming awfully close. Maybe even equal for the first time. 

The following Tuesday, he was just angry. Percy had brushed him off at the restaurant, and then he said that he couldn’t care any less about Oliver. It wasn’t about wanting Percy to like him back (although, that couldn’t hurt), it was about being classmates and friends. He thought they had been wiped from all their animosity, but Percy seemed to hate him more after that phone call, and he didn’t know why.

Oliver had figured that Percy hated him for the longest time, because of all the incidents that had taken place between the two of them, and neither of them made an effort to patch it up. But now, Oliver was putting in that effort, and that seemed to rile Percy up even more.

They hadn’t spoken since their Chemistry class a couple of days before, but that didn’t stop Oliver from thinking about him. It didn’t stop him from letting his eyes wander around the courtyard, the corridors, and the classrooms, and finding Percy every single time. It didn’t stop him from seeing Percy in everything—the restaurants he drove past, the notebooks he scribbled in, or anybody with red hair, really. 

It was like he was lost in a maze, and ending up in the same destination every time.

But it wasn’t the time to think about any of that. He was at football training, and it had done a good enough job at distracting himself from everything going on. As it ended, he and Peter sat down in the changing rooms, changing into their normal shoes. Terence and Marcus wandered into the room, speaking about somebody specific, but they weren’t saying a name.

“Mhm, there is definitely something going on there,” Terence decided after he had heard Marcus’ story, and all the evidence led to that conclusion. 

“There isn’t, Terence,” Marcus told him with a sigh as though he was getting tired of saying it—as though he had said it more times than he would like. However, Terence, and Elton were yet to be wrong about those sorts of things. Oliver would never say that aloud, though. He wouldn’t allow them that satisfaction. “I’ve told you a million times.”

“I’m just saying…” Terence threw up his hands, freezing for a moment to place emphasis on something, “It seems like he’s into you.”

“He’s not, and I’m not into him,” Marcus said with the same discomfort in his body as Oliver previously had when Elton confronted him about his feelings for Percy. He shook his head, reaching for his bag as he tugged it toward him, “He’s just arrogant. Talks himself up. Whatever.”

“Who?” Oliver asked, suddenly gaining the overwhelming urge to want to know who they were talking about. Honestly, he just wanted to know who had Marcus Flint like that. Marcus was great at masking his emotions, truly. Oliver had known him for many years, and he had seen how he could immediately flip his entire demeanor to hide them. But someone—whoever they were talking about—had a different effect on him.

“None of your business, Wood,” Marcus grunted, refusing to look up from the ground. 

Oliver rolled his eyes, lifting his shoulders, “Well, obviously, but maybe I can help,” he told him, leaning forward.

Terence snorted with a grin spreading across his face as though he found great amusement from this, “Help with what? You couldn’t recognise flirting even if it slapped you in the face,” he explained, clapping his hands together as he said slapped. 

“Okay…” Oliver said, his face screwing up in offence as he folded his arms, “I was just going to say if he talks himself up, and is arrogant, he probably likes you,”

“Is that why you act so arrogant around Percy Weasley?” Terence asked, wiggling his eyebrows. A smile crawled onto Marcus’ lips as he looked over to see Oliver’s face, because clearly, it had been a discussion between them. 

“What?” Oliver asked, his heart dropping. He knew that it was only a matter of time that people started picking up on the fact that he liked Percy. He was never good at keeping secrets. But he didn’t think he was arrogant around Percy. Of course, he was talkative, but he was always talkative. But arrogant? He hadn’t noticed if he was.

“Nothing,” Terence laughed, pressing his elbow into Marcus’ arm as though something Oliver said was funny. 

“Except we wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Marcus added with a smirk. “I mean, he’s got a pretty face. Good kisser, too. Terence would know.”

“I would,” Terence agreed, nodding his head. 

Oliver pursed his lips, rolling his eyes as he looked away from them. Ever since he realised that he liked Percy, he hadn’t been thinking about his exes, or the fact that he had kissed anybody else. His heart sank, and an unpleasant stinging sensation grew behind his eyes. He just wanted to go home then. Lock himself in his room, and feel whatever was growing in him where nobody could see.

He cleared his throat, pushing his hand through his hair, and feeling how the sweat had dampened his hair. He blinked hard, “Do you know if he’s still with that guy?” He asked, figuring that it was worth an ask. At least he would know if he should give up then. 

“I don’t think so,” Terence answered, sounding genuine for once in his life. The smile faded from Marcus’ face as though he no longer had any interest in the conversation if he didn’t get to tease Oliver. “I had a party before the summer started, and Perce brought him with him. He had posted a picture of them, and now it’s deleted—no one deletes pictures of their partner unless they’ve broken up.”

“And you think I’m arrogant around him?” Oliver asked again. He had a lot of questions, but there was no time for them to be answered. Terence stood up with Marcus following him. He laughed, and tilted his head to the side like he pitied Oliver for whatever reason, and then he just walked out without giving Oliver an answer. 

But Oliver wasn’t going to let it go. 

He arrived at school earlier than usual in an attempt to find Marcus or Terence, and ask them how they thought he was arrogant, because maybe Percy had agreed with them about that. If he did, Oliver could tone it down. Make it easier to be around him, and maybe Percy wouldn’t hate him as much as he did. 

It was easy to find Marcus, because he was always in the same place. 

He had his head dipped over the table, staring at a sketchbook he was scribbling in. Oliver never really saw what he was drawing. He had only ever seen it on a few occasions, and he was honestly good, but all of the drawings were dark, and just sort of… creepy, really. It was like he was taking whatever was haunting him, and putting it on a page. 

Oliver nodded his head, deciding that he was committed to this, and it wasn’t only for Percy’s sake, but his own. If he was annoyingly arrogant, he would like to change that, regardless of what anybody else thought about him. He wanted to be good. 

“Hi,” Oliver said, dropping onto the seat across from Marcus. Marcus slowly lifted his eyes, like he was fearing what he would find in front of him, and he did not relax when he found Oliver smiling at him. He sighed, looking back down. “Do you really think I’m arrogant?” 

“Well, yes,” Marcus told him without a moment of hesitation. Oliver should have expected this. Marcus wouldn’t even compliment him in a life or death scenario. 

“No, I mean Percy,” Oliver elaborated, hoping it would help. Marcus heaved a sigh of annoyance, dropping his pencil beside him. He narrowed his eyes at him. Oliver smiled, “Do you think I’m, like… extra arrogant around him?”

“Yes,” Marcus said again with a firm nod.

“No, I’m being serious,” Oliver told him, shuffling in his seat.

“Yes, me too,” Marcus murmured, looking back down to the paper of his sketchbook.

“Well, I’ve just been thinking that he must hate me if I’m arrogant, and maybe if I toned it down, he wouldn’t hate so much,” Oliver rambled, letting the words pour out, because who was Marcus going to tell? Maybe Gemma, but she didn’t have anyone else to tell, so he knew his secret—of sorts—was safe with him. Plus, he didn’t seem like he cared enough to say anything to anybody. “So?”

“Do you have to ask me?” Marcus questioned, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe Oliver was still there. But he needed to know.

“Yes, because I’ve been thinking about it all night,” Oliver explained, breathing out loudly, because he couldn’t stand the thought of being hated by Percy forever. “Maybe he hates me so much, because I’m arrogant.” 

“I don’t blame him,” he mumbled. 

“Hello, strange pairing, this is,” Isaac observed, switching his eyes between the two of them. He sat beside Marcus, his legs dangling from each side of the seat, with his body facing him. “What could you two be talking about?”

“None of your business, Winston,” Marcus told him, not looking up. That wasn’t an unusual response from him. The words were, but the body language wasn’t. It was almost a spitting image of what he acted like the night before when he and Terence were talking about somebody, just dialled up. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of finding reasons to fight with me?” Isaac asked, leaning to the side to get Marcus to actually look at him. He pressed his back against the table, sliding down so he was in his vision. Marcus lazily blinked over to him.

“No, it comes quite easily,” he murmured, clearly attempting to hide a smile. Isaac grinned, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

“That reminds me, I’m going to go see Percy,” Oliver stated, jumping up from the seat. 

“Okay,” Marcus said, like he couldn’t care any less, and to be fair, he probably didn’t.

“Why?” Isaac asked, his face scrunching up with confusion as if that didn’t make any sense in that context. 

“Many, many questions, Isaac,” Oliver told him, and turned around, because he knew the bus got to the school around that time. Peter used to catch the same bus until his brother started dropping him off, or Oliver started giving him rides when his brother couldn’t.

“Right,” Isaac nodded, and turned away from Oliver. But Oliver was still in earshot. “What did he want?”

“Why? You jealous?” He heard Marcus ask.

“Very,” Isaac answered, causing a smile to grow on Oliver’s face.

Marcus had just… lied straight to Terence’s face. Whatever was going on between them, Oliver figured that they had decided to keep it a secret, which wasn’t working out much, because it was clear through one look that there was something larger between them. All they had to do was look at each other, and it seemed like everybody else faded away. He thought that they hated each other. But clearly, that wasn’t the case at all. It was the complete opposite. 

He knew they were close at the beginning of year eleven. It was around the same time Terence and Percy were dating, because they all sat together back then. But once they broke up, Marcus and Isaac began drifting from each other over time, and started getting into arguments constantly. 

If Oliver had to guess, they couldn’t stand the fact they didn’t have an excuse to be around each other anymore, because neither of them had ever really liked somebody. 

He exited the corridor, finding a crowd of students pouring from the bus stop, which included Percy, along with Fred, and George who looked like they were picking on him about something. They were always teasing him. Oliver would be shocked if they weren’t. He smiled when the twins’ eyes found him.

“If it’s okay with you two, I’ll take over from here,” Oliver told them with a grin, causing Percy to pause with a glare on his face, sending a warning look toward his brothers, who didn’t seem to care. Fred and George continued to walk, turning back to Oliver.

“Fine by us,” George said, tapping his shoulder shortly as he moved past.

“Yeah, have fun!” Fred added, waving as they disappeared further into the distance. 

Oliver laughed, turning back to find Percy glaring up at him with his arms folded, "What do you want, Wood?” He grunted, and Oliver didn’t realise how much he really liked Percy glaring at him until then. It was something that nervous laughter and longing stares from others could never compete with.

“I have questions,” Oliver informed him, bobbing his head up and down with pride. 

“Oh, yay, the man has questions that I cannot be bothered to answer,” Percy declared, throwing his hands in the air to intimate false excitement. He gently pushed past Oliver to continue making his way into the school, and Oliver followed him. Percy sighed, “Nor can I be bothered to hear them.” 

“Lucky I don’t care,” Oliver said, softly nudging him teasingly.

“No, of course you wouldn’t,” Percy remarked with annoyance. He twisted his head to him, tilting it slightly back as he pouted sarcastically. “Why would you care about convening anybody else?”

“Oh, you know me so well, Percy,” Oliver jested, his body mirroring Percy’s.

“Knowing you at all is knowing too much,” Percy mumbled, rolling his eyes. He glanced back, soon turning back to Oliver as he pointed behind them. Oliver followed Percy’s finger. “You know, there’s still enough time to throw yourself in front of that bus.”

“Yes, probably,” Oliver shrugged, moving past that. He had his questions that needed to be answered, and eventually they would be. If not right now, then they would be at some point. It wasn’t about getting Percy. It was about being a better person. That was what he was telling himself anyway. “Anyway, why are you mad at me again? You were nice to me on the phone call.” 

“How dare you say that?” Percy quietly gasped, his gaze snapping to Oliver.

Oliver smiled, because somehow, he had lost all control of his body when Percy was around him. He shook his head, lowering his voice, “How dare I say what?”

“Say that I was nice to you,” Percy told him. “That’s awfully rude. I would never do that.”

“I don’t know, maybe you have a secret thing for me, don’t you, Perce?” Oliver teased. There was nothing wrong with… manifesting. 

Percy jerked his neck to the side, squeezing his jaw tightly shut as though that had hit a nerve. Oliver raised his eyebrows, and Percy groaned before saying, “First of all, don’t call me that. And second of all, I do not like you. The mere thought of being around you has me retching.”

“I don’t see it now,” Oliver stated, his eyes searching Percy’s body, and stopping when he found his eyes. “However, I can see the hearts in your eyes.”

“Oh, fuck off, Wood,” Percy fumed, pushing Oliver with his shoulder before speeding up, “Go rot in hell.”

“I’ll see you there,” Oliver called out, to which Percy lifted his arm up, flipping him off. He chuckled, biting his lip as Percy yanked the door open, and disappeared into the corridor. 

~•~

After their interaction in the morning, it was difficult to look away from Percy. The only time he wasn’t was when Percy was nowhere within his sights. He started seeing him in between classes when they were moving to the next. And when they were at their break, he couldn’t help, but let his eyes wander to him.

Percy stood folded over the table attempting to grab something from Penelope’s hand that she was holding out to the side to dodge him. He did little hops as an attempt to get closer to her, but failed every time. Isaac watched as the two of them fought, glancing at Marcus every few moments, but Oliver wasn’t really looking at him. He was only looking at Percy.

Percy, whose smile was so bright that Oliver couldn’t imagine why he refused to do it the vast majority of the time. Percy, whose glare could easily compete with his smile. Percy, who Oliver could never stop thinking about, and Percy, who hated Oliver. 

“What are you smiling at?” Peter asked, waving a hand in front of his face to earn his attention.

Oliver slowly turned to him, blinking slowly, “What?”

“Uh, you’re smiling,” Peter told him like it was obvious, but Oliver hadn’t realised he was. That was just the effect that Percy happened to have on him. He made him lose control of everything he once had a very tight grip on. “Why?”

“Oh, I didn’t really notice,” Oliver replied, choosing against telling him that the mere sight of Percy smiling had sent a smile to his own lips. He had only recently realised that he liked him, and he didn’t want to jinx it, but he would love to have an excuse to bring Percy into whatever conversation he was having. He glanced back in his direction, finding that Percy had finally won her phone, and was reading whatever it was aloud. He turned back to Peter, “Do you think I’m more arrogant around Percy?”

“I wouldn’t say arrogant,” Peter answered with his mouth full of food, shaking his head. Then he nodded, and smiled, “I’d say you’re confident.”

“This is why you’re my favourite person, Pete,” Oliver grinned, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, squeezing it softly, “You’re so kind.”

Peter smiled at him, shrugging his shoulders. He always got so shy after he was complimented, because he never received very many of them. But Oliver imagined he got many of them from Penelope.

“How are things going with Penelope?” Oliver asked, because he hadn’t thought to ask in a while, and Peter hadn’t brought her up in a few weeks. It had been almost a month since they’d be back, which meant it had been almost a month since she gave him her number. He also had a feeling that what Percy was reading aloud was the texts between her and Peter.

“Honestly, they’ve been great,” Peter told him, helplessly grinning. “We’ve been texting all the time, talking in Modern History, and we’ve recently started calling every night.”

“So, when are you going to ask her out?” He smirked, jerking an eyebrow up. He knew it was only a matter of time before they were actually dating, but Penelope had always asked guys out first—Oliver knew this, because he had overheard conversations between her and Percy—and it had almost ended badly—another thing he had learned from accidentally eavesdropping. Maybe she was being superstitious with him. But she never had to be. Peter had been staring at her wide eyed for a year. 

“Well, I want to,” Peter admitted with a quiet sigh. “But I’ve been so nervous, and I mean, we’re also friends.” 

“Then, er, why don’t we do a group thing?” Oliver asked, flashing a look in Percy’s direction. Really, it’d be killing two birds with one stone. Penelope would obviously bring Percy, which meant Oliver would have the chance to see him outside of a school setting and Peter could see Penelope. Maybe work up the courage then. “For your birthday? That’s coming up soon. Next week.”

“Oh yeah,” Peter nodded slowly, grabbing his chin like he was in deep thought, “Incredible idea in theory, Oliver, but you’re my only friend.”

“You could invite Penelope, and she would bring Percy obviously,” Oliver explained, attempting to casually slide Percy’s name in, which he thought he succeeded in quite well, because Peter just nodded along. “I’m sure Isaac will tag along. Marcus and Terence play football with us, so we can invite Gemma and Elton, too. Ivy is also friends with Penelope. And I’ll convince Eleanor.”

“So eleven of us?” Peter said. “Don’t you think it’ll be… I don’t know, lame?”

“Drinks!” Oliver hopped off his seat, raising his voice unintentionally. He clicked his fingers, pointing at Peter, “Drinks always do the trick.”

“Oh yeah,” he said again, and then smiled, “Your mind is so beautiful, Oliver.” 

Oliver straightened up, liking the fact his plan was working. It was a bulletproof one. They would be able to celebrate Peter’s birthday properly. Peter would be granted the opportunity to hang out with Penelope, which meant that Oliver would be able to speak to Percy, and change his mind about hating him. 

“You ask Penelope in Modern History,” Oliver told him, softly tapping his shoulder before twisting his body to face the table. “I’ll ask Percy in Chemistry. Marcus and Terence at training. And the rest is worked out for us.”

~•~

Oliver moved through the rest of the day beyond elation. He had been searching for reasons to speak to Percy when he should have just been waiting for the opportunity to come to him, and it finally did. He had considered all the possible answers he could receive from Percy, but he had a way to convince him through everyone. However, he thought that Penelope would be enough reason. 

He had PE, which he shared with Peter, Marcus, Gemma, and Terence, along with Ivy. Ivy always drifted toward Oliver, and Peter, which never failed to surprise him. She never spoke to them anywhere else, but he had the opportunity to ask her to come. She agreed before Oliver could even finish his sentence, which sent a momentary feeling of pity.

Every straight guy in their year liked her, but they didn’t see any point past that, so she didn’t get invited to many things. But she was one of the only people who could make Oliver laugh until his stomach hurt. Sometimes, she intended things to be a joke. Other times, she meant those things genuinely, and it was awfully funny how she didn’t see a problem with it. But she had a good heart. One of the best Oliver had ever come across, really. He was yet to find a person who disliked her. 

Then, she said she would get Eleanor to come before Oliver even said a word about her. In fairness, if anybody could, it would probably be her. Not because it was specifically Eleanor. Rather because her convincing skills were better than everybody else’s, and he supposed she got that from her father, who was the mayor—and rumoured to have ascertained his wealth illegally. Oliver never really believed it, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Only people who have gone through the most violence could understand the importance of being gentle, and Ivy treated everybody as though one small nudge could shatter them even if it was unneeded.

So, three had been checked off the list—including Ivy, Eleanor, and Penelope. Next, he had Percy, and then Isaac by association. The rest would be easy after that, because Elton, and Terence would go anywhere as long as they were going together, and Marcus, and Gemma always accompanied them wherever they went. So, Percy was his main concern, but that wasn’t particularly anything new. 

He rushed into Chemistry that day, arriving before Percy for the first time. He always saw him with his book, laptop, and pencil case in his hand before he even arrived at his next class. From where Oliver had been, he could see that Percy’s focus on school had become increasingly stronger that year.

 He had always been intelligent, and he had always studied, but wherever Oliver saw him, he could see him running information through his mind. He understood why it was important, and if it had always been, especially to Percy. But that year was different, and he didn’t yet know why. 

As Percy walked through the door, with Isaac and Penelope behind him, his eyes fell to the floor as they usually did. It was like eye contact with anybody was humiliating to him. Oliver was the opposite. He had been told on several occasions that he had a staring problem, and it wasn’t that he necessarily meant to. It was unintentional, and often came naturally. 

“Why are you smiling like a moron?” Percy asked, pulling out the chair as he leaned forward to place his belongings on the table. He cringed at him, unable to look away like it was something awfully uncanny. 

“What does a moron even smile like?” Oliver grinned, tilting his head back to allow his eyes to follow Percy as he lowered himself into his chair slowly. To which, whatever cologne Percy was wearing brushed against his face, and it smelled nice. So very nice. Mouthwatering type of nice. Almost like… vanilla. 

“Whatever that is,” Percy told him, waving his hand in a circle to gesture to Oliver’s face. He was so mean, but Oliver didn’t mind it. After their phone call, he had learned that Percy didn’t talk to anybody else like that, and that was enough to keep Oliver satisfied for the time being. Sure, he said he couldn’t care less about him, but he cared enough to act a specific way around him, and that had to mean something. 

“Right, well, Peter is going to have a small thing at his house for his birthday next weekend,” Oliver informed him, shifting his body to face Percy. He had never been in class before Snape began talking, so there was something unsettling about speaking to him freely before the rest of the class arrived inside the room. 

“Peter doesn’t have any friends…” Percy shrugged, trailing off as he shook his head, his eyes dropping to the table. They widened for a moment before he lifted a finger to point at Oliver, “Other than you.”

“Yes, but he’s going to invite Penelope,” Oliver explained, but nothing changed in Percy’s face. He still looked unconvinced. He sighed, “And you could bring Isaac, too. There’ll be drinks.”

“You know, you should invite Marcus,” Percy said, turning away. 

“Why?” Oliver asked. Marcus and Percy weren’t friends, nor would they ever be. Oliver didn’t know how Percy felt toward Marcus, but he did know that Marcus didn’t like Percy. And sure, he might have said that he had a pretty face, and that Terence labelled him as a good kisser, but he didn’t seem to care for Percy much more than that.

“Why not?” Percy lifted his shoulders, his lips curving down.

“Do you—do you like him?” Oliver peered down, leaning forward to form a clearer view of Percy. He really hoped that he didn’t like him. First of all, Isaac did, and Marcus returned those feelings, which would mean Percy would be rejected. Plus, Oliver liked him, and he wanted to be the only person Percy liked. 

“No, idiot, I do not,” Percy laughed, almost turning into a snort. He blinked slowly, and looked down as he lowered his voice, “Isaac does. He’s my friend, so you know, I thought it could help their whole non-stop banter situation. Forced proximity, hm?”

Oliver nodded along with Percy’s words. Of course he knew Isaac and Marcus liked each other. He liked to think of himself as one of the first people to figure it out, but that sounded awfully similar. 

“Would you say we have a whole non-stop banter situation?” Oliver asked, his eyebrows curving as he lifted them. 

“I’d say I hate you, honestly,” Percy answered in a drawl.

“Oh yes, of course you do,” Oliver began, to which Percy almost immediately looked skeptical. Like he knew what was coming, and after years of knowing him, Oliver would be surprised if he didn’t. Oliver slightly dropped his head to the side, staring at Percy with a smile. “Except the fact you don’t. You know, heart eyes, whatnot.”

“There’s so many chemicals back there,” Percy informed him softly, pointing to the room in between the block of science classrooms, where they hold all of the equipment, tools, and chemicals. “Maybe you should consume them to see what they do.”

“You find new ways to tell me to kill myself literally every day,” Oliver observed, speaking gently, because it was fascinating the lengths his mind went to. He invented new ways to say things that could be easily simplified in another way, but he said it in a different way every time. It never hurt Oliver, because he knew Percy didn’t really mean it. 

“I’m waiting for the message to sink in,” Percy joked with a smirk, lightly poking his finger into Oliver’s side. Last time, he had done it a lot harder, which caused Oliver to almost fly off his chair. He didn’t tell Snape, because he didn’t want him to get into trouble for it, so he said nothing had happened at all. 

Oliver just smiled, letting his back fall to the chair as he folded his arms over his chest, “So, are you in?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Percy murmured. “I’ll ask Isaac, too.”

Oliver nodded his head with pride. 

~•~

“Let’s go ask them,” Oliver said as he and Peter were walking out of the school together toward his car. He lifted his hand, gesturing to the direction Marcus, Gemma, Elton, and Terence stood in a circle beside another car. 

Peter followed Oliver’s arm, his eyes screwing up as he found them. He turned back into Oliver, cringing, “The whole group at one time? Bit much.”

“Okay, I’ll ask Elton,” Oliver said, because after their conversation at his first game, he found that Elton was the easiest one to speak to, despite the fact he loved getting on Oliver’s nerves. Peter spoke again, attempting to stop Oliver, but he didn’t give him the chance, “ “Elton!” 

Peter sighed loudly, dropping his eyes to the ground in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Elton’s attention turned away from where he had previously been staring, which was Terence, as always. The two of them struggled to ever look away from each other once they had each other in their sights. 

“What do you want?” Elton asked after walking over to them. He had his arm folded, looking around as though it was embarrassing to be around them. Peter clearly seemed to pick on this, because he had his back turned to Elton.

“Would you like to come to Peter’s house for his birthday?” Oliver replied, placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder like Elton didn’t have any clue who he actually was.

“Charity work is sort of… above my pay grade, Wood,” Elton shrugged with a laugh. 

“There’ll be free drinks,” Oliver continued, keeping a smile on his face, but he always felt bad for Peter when things like this happened. Peter always said he knew they were joking, but he always seemed to get genuinely upset when it was Elton. 

“Did I mention how much I love Peter?” Elton grinned, rolling his shoulders back.

“No, I think you forgot when you called hanging out with me charity work,” Peter mumbled, turning to him just to shoot him a glare. Elton took the piss out of everybody. Oliver wasn’t quite sure why Peter cared so much—why he took it so personally. It was like there was a secret conversation between the two of them that nobody could hear except for them. But that didn’t make any sense. The two of them had never been close, and they had never come to a mutual understanding in the time he knew the both of them.  

Elton’s expression faltered before he smiled, and lightly tapped Peter’s back, “Oh, it was honestly a joke, Jones. You’re much more tolerable than Wood,” he said, to which Peter glanced at him, surprised, but almost… pleased. Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, only slightly offended. “Who else is going?”

“Er, it’s more of a… a small thing,” Peter told him. Elton nodded in response as he listened, “So, Penelope, Percy—“

“Percy, huh? Is he Wood’s plus one?” Elton interjected with a smirk, glancing at Oliver just to jerk an eyebrow up at him. Oliver scrunched his eyebrows up, glaring back at him. He wasn’t ready to tell anybody, but he knew he wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. He never could keep a secret for himself. 

“Isaac, and then obviously you can bring Gemma, Marcus, and Terence,” Peter continued speaking over Elton’s comment, and Oliver was grateful. He always knew Peter would understand without any words having to be spoken. “Ivy is coming, and possibly Eleanor.”

“Okay, yes, we’ll come,” Elton said after a beat of silence. He hesitated before looking back up at Peter, “Just text me, then. You know, address, time, whatever. See you.”

Peter dipped his head forward, confirming that he would. Elton nodded as though his mission had been accomplished, and his objective had been fulfilled. He turned around slowly on the balls of his feet, making his way back to Terence, who swung his arm around him almost immediately. 

Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, turning to Peter with immense confusion, “You have Elton Ivory’s phone number?” He asked, because he didn’t know a world where Elton and Peter texted. 

“Yeah, we’re family friends,” he informed him casually, like this wasn’t a very new piece of information. 

Oliver gaped at him, “Since fucking when?”

“Our mothers were best friends before his mum died,” he told him with a shrug, placing his hand on the handle of Oliver’s car door. He glanced back at him as though to tell him to open it, but Oliver was still reeling from that information. He knew Peter had his own life, obviously. But he couldn’t have imagined that life including Elton. That thought was just plain weird. 

And Oliver had no fucking idea that the best friend of Peter’s mother was Elton’s. Surely he would have heard this before, and he never would have forgotten either, “How—what? How have I never heard of this?”

“Hm, no idea,” Peter shook his head like he was shocked, but it was clearly being faked. He knew he didn’t tell Oliver, and Oliver didn’t really mind. He knew now, but he was just…  surprised that Peter hadn’t told him before. “I swore I told you.” 

There was always some secret language between them, Oliver had thought of after a little bit of reflection. It was as simple as hesitating before speaking to each other, or Peter getting slightly worked up when Oliver told him that Elton had gotten into a fight, or even just looks when one of them walked through the classroom door. Almost like brothers who didn’t want to know each other anymore. 

Oliver was told by Harry Potter. His father, who died in a car crash, had a best friend (his godfather) with a brother that drifted apart due to their circumstances. His godfather’s brother died when he was eighteen, and he never had the chance to repair the damage that had been inflicted on their relationship. 

Oliver supposed the death of a parent could do that with Elton and Peter. Although, he didn’t know how close Peter was to Elton, or his mother. He made a mental note to ask Peter about it lately, or let him tell him himself. He guessed that was the right thing to do. 

He drove Peter home as usual, because Andrew finished work around the same time that they finished school, and he also had Braxton to pick up. This was evident when Andrew was climbing out of his car at the same time Oliver pulled into the driveway behind it. 

Andrew had his bag hanging on his shoulder, while Braxton rushed to the door with the keys in his head. He had started going through the phase where all he wanted to do was lock himself in his room, and play video games with his friends all night. So of course, that afternoon wasn’t any different.

“I reckon we should ask Andrew to get the drinks, so we don’t have to,” Peter told him, pausing inside the car for a second. They were both eighteen, Peter was turning nineteen—they could get it themselves. But why do that when they could make Andrew do it instead? 

“Ask now?” Oliver asked, raising his eyebrows as he looked over at Peter, who nodded his head, and jumped out. Oliver followed seconds later, calling out to Andrew, “Hey Andrew.”

“Oh, hi Oliver,” Andrew answered with a smile. He was so unbelievably charming. He never had to do much more than smile, and Oliver was reminded why he had always had such a huge crush on him growing up. There was just something about protective older brothers with irritating younger siblings that was so intriguing to him. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Yes, I would,” he replied with a confident nod of his head. “Always do.”

“Drew, do you think you could get us drinks?” Peter asked, following them into the house. 

Andrew screwed his face up like this made no sense to him, and in his defence, it honestly didn’t. “You’re both eighteen. Why don’t you?” Andrew lifted his shoulders, dropping his bag near the door.

The house was gorgeous to Oliver. His own house was a two bedroom with his parents taking up one room, and him taking up the other. They never needed much more than that. Oliver never felt like he did. But when he stepped into Peter’s house, it was like he was stepping into a millionaire’s mansion. He knew that his mother had received money in the divorce, and used it to get away from her old house, which Peter had informed him had too many memories.

Too many memories that she could no longer bear to recall. Every corner of the house was haunted by a ghost of her past. The man that she loved for many years that had destroyed her worldview when he had cheated on her, or her best friend (which he had found out was Elton’s mother twenty minutes before), who was the other half of her soul. Oliver supposed that it wasn’t easy to find joy in life when you existed as half a person.

After that, all the photos that had been displayed in their old house of their picture perfect family, or her best friend, were taped up in a box, locked away in their garage. Peter told Oliver that every time she found another photo of her, she would go on a rant about how much she missed her, and how much she would like to go visit her. He said that he didn’t know if her disintegrating brain had blocked out the memory, or if she meant wherever you go after death. 

Then, it made sense to Oliver, thinking about how Peter’s mother’s best friend had been Elton’s mother, and how much of it made sense that Elton and Peter avoided each other so often. You don’t spend that much time around somebody without viewing them as something so much more than just a friend, but a brother. Oliver saw it from Percy and Penelope. Their parents were best friends, and they became family. It might have been the same with Elton and Peter. 

Oliver viewed Peter as a brother, of course. He was the first person he went to when he needed to tell somebody something. Oliver could have conversations with Peter without words being said, but so could Elton and Peter. That was shown at school. He just… He didn’t want to see them so far apart, especially when their mothers had been so close. 

“Because we’d be setting up shit here,” Peter explained, following Andrew through the house. 

Again, Andrew’s already screwed up face tightened with more confusion, “What’s going on here?” He said, like anything taking place at their house was a foreign concept. The house looked like the type of house you’d want to bring anybody and everybody to, but inside was a different story. And it wasn’t what it looked like inside, but what was happening in it. 

“I’m going to have something for my birthday,” he said, and paused, holding a finger up, “And yes, the thought that I don’t have any friends crossed my mind, so…”

“I didn’t say it,” Andrew smirked, like older brothers do. 

“You were thinking it,” Peter replied with an attitude, like younger brothers do. Oliver had picked this up after many years of knowing them. 

“Who’re you going to invite, then?” Andrew asked as though this was the age-old question.

“Er, Penelope, Isaac, Terence, Marcus, Eleanor, Ivy, Gemma, and Percy,” Peter listed, holding up a new finger as he said another name, leaving Elton’s name out. The absence of it said more than saying it ever could. 

“Oh, Percy Weasley?” Andrew leaned back, showing himself behind the fridge door. 

Peter nodded, but Oliver answered before he could. The sound of Percy’s name summoned him really. Conversations always became more interesting when Percy’s name was mentioned. It had been like that for many years. 

“Yeah?” Oliver said, instantly wanting to know more. 

“I work with his brother, Bill,” Andrew told them, and then a smirk spread across his face. “Good looking unit, I’m telling you now.”

“He’s bi. Maybe you should ask him out,” Peter said, causing even Oliver’s head to turn to him. 

“And how do you know that?” Andrew asked.

Oliver knew that, because he had known Bill for many years. He and Charlie were his mentors in football, so there were things that you found out about certain people. Bill was bisexual, who would occasionally bring his partners to home games, and Charlie was gay, who never seemed to have a boyfriend. But he didn’t know how Peter knew. 

“Because Penelope is close with their family, and was telling me about some guy Bill dated recently,” Peter explained with an incredible amount of pride. Probably because he had found that out from Penelope. It was all very sweet, but Oliver would like to know Peter’s secret about getting people to like him. 

“Oh yeah, and he’d bring his boyfriends to watch his football games when he still played,” Oliver added with a nod of confirmation. “Hey, wouldn’t it be so cool if Peter dates Penelope, you date Bill, and I date Percy?”

“Why would you date Percy?” Andrew made a full one hundred and eighty degree turn, coming to a pit stop as soon as he was facing Oliver. He jerked an eyebrow up, and he really did look like a spitting image of Peter if he was also twenty-four. 

“Uh, I mean, it’s just a thought,” Oliver shrugged with a nervous laugh, watching a completely unconvinced Andrew, and he could hardly blame him either. He couldn’t convince anybody if he tried, and he really hoped it never came up in front of Percy, because he would end up feeling so humiliated. And Percy would probably feel that way, too, because imagine finding out the person you hated the most liked you? God, that’d be absolutely mortifying. 

“Yeah, I’ll get you your drinks,” Andrew said finally, patting them both on the back as he passed them, filling Oliver with an instant gratification.

He knew the next few days would pass at an excruciatingly slow rate, because he couldn’t wait for the weekend. He and Peter never did much for either of their birthdays, and it would be lovely to celebrate it with a group. 

But he was even more excited for the opportunity to speak to Percy in a setting where it wasn’t an obligation.

Chapter Text

Oliver drove Peter, Terence, and Marcus to Peter’s house after their game that day. Terence reluctantly confessed that he and Marcus didn’t want to have to explain to their fathers where they were going that night, so it was easier to say they were at each other’s house to their dads. Their fathers weren’t the biggest fans of Oliver, or Peter, apparently. Oliver didn’t take offence to this at all. Rather, he took pride, because if the worst two men had something against him, he must be doing something right. 

The four of them set up the house, getting everything ready for the party, or in Peter’s words, a get-together. Oliver was shaken to his core that they were willing to help, because there were very few times Marcus and Terence had been nice to them, which led him to believe that even Terence had no clue that Peter and Elton were close at some point. 

Oliver paused at some point, yanking on Peter’s wrist when they went out to the kitchen for a brief moment, “So, what is the deal with Elton?” He had asked him, because Peter had never elaborated. It was much more than being casual family friends. You don’t keep your lips sealed from all your close friends, because of something casual—something that doesn’t cause you to ache constantly. Peter just scoffed, and stated it wasn’t that serious. But Oliver had been close to him for years. He knew when he was holding back. But he decided against pushing.

They were back in their room when they heard the front door open, which meant Andrew had arrived back from getting the drinks. He and Braxton had been out all day. Braxton stopped in his tracks, lifting his eyes from his phone for the first time in a while. Oliver hadn’t heard his voice in a while, unless he was screaming into his headset at his friends.

“What the hell?” He said, looking between the four of them. Peter’s face dropped into a glare, and Oliver knew what was coming. “Why do you have people over? You don’t have any friends.”

“Shut up, Brax,” Peter replied, folding his arms, because he apparently wasn’t above arguing with a twelve year old. Oliver was momentarily distracted by Terence’s howl of laughter. 

“And who the hell are you?” Braxton asked, looking away from Peter. Unfortunately, Terence didn’t really know what he got himself into, because Braxton was the younger version of him—almost a carbon copy. He would say whatever thought crossed his mind, because he was at the age where he knew what hurt people’s feelings when they bruised his ego. 

“Man, you’ve known me for years,” Terence told him, glancing between Oliver, Peter, Marcus, and Andrew for assistance, but none of them were willing to get involved. Marcus knew what it was like to have a sibling, and the remainder of them knew Braxton. “Get off your phone. There’s a whole world outside of your screen, you know.”

“It isn’t my fault you’re like… forty,” Braxton said, shaking his head as he glared at him.

Terence gaped at him, his mouth falling slightly open, “And you’re what? Nine?”

“I’m twelve, you geriatric dinosaur,” he spat back. Oliver grinned, glancing at Terence, who looked like the equivalent of an old religious person who had just heard a swear word, and yapped on about how the youth don’t respect their elders anymore. He pressed on his phone screen again, walking away casually like he never said anything at all, “Anyway, I’m going.”

Andrew lifted his shoulders, his cheeks turning into a soft pink as he placed the case of the drinks beside the door, “Kids, right?” He said, clearly embarrassed about that. “But uh, are the same people still coming?”

Oliver noticed then how alike they each looked, and how they had mostly gotten their mother’s genes. They each had light brown skin, but wore different hairstyles. Peter had his hair buzzed, while Andrew and Braxton grew out their curls. Andrew spent hours on his hair every day, but Braxton didn’t care as much about it. But other than that, they each shared the same facial features, just different proportions. 

“Yeah,” Terence answered before the rest of them could, “Honestly, I’m just waiting for Elton, though.”

“Oh.” Andrew was charming. Bulletproof. Almost every emotion he had ever felt was clearly pushed so far down that occasionally, he forgot they were even there. But the sound of Elton’s name seemed to shatter those walls. “Ivory? How, uh, how is he connected to this?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Terence told him with scepticism. He shook his head like another thought had occurred to him, “Didn’t you leave school before we got there? How do you know him?”

“I don’t,” Andrew faltered. The thing about being the eldest is that you will always know things your siblings don’t. You will remember things your siblings won’t. You will have a larger understanding of things that take place before they could even process it. Andrew was considerably older than both his siblings, so he knew everything that happened before them, and he knew things that happened to them. Somehow, Elton’s name struck a nerve. “Uh, a word, Oliver?”

“Oh,” Oliver murmured, glancing at Peter, who pursed his lip like he was against this for some reason. But he glanced back at Andrew, who tilted his head to the side, gesturing outside the room. Oliver had no experience with custody battles, but he felt like he was in the middle of one at that moment. “Um, okay,” he finally agreed, because Andrew never asked to speak with him, so it must be important. He followed Andrew out until they reached the backyard. Andrew checked inside before closing the door behind them. “What’s up?”

“You have to make sure Peter doesn’t go anywhere near Elton if he gets drunk,” he ordered in a low voice. Oliver screwed his face up. “It just… He’s not the type to talk about his feelings, but it all comes out when he’s drunk. He’ll cause a scene, and everything will just get complicated.”

“I don’t understand,” Oliver shook his head, because he wasn’t following. “What the fuck happened? Because I’ve never heard anything about this until the other day.”

Andrew sighed, “It’s complicated, but make sure he doesn’t, okay? Please?” He asked. “Otherwise, I’ll just stick around here. I doubt Brax will want to come out with me anyway. Plus, I’ll have to give people rides home, too.”

“I have a feeling that you want to stay,” Oliver laughed. “So, just stay Andrew. We’re going to be in Peter’s room.”

Andrew appeared relieved by this—that someone told him to stay. Oliver didn’t know what the big deal was about. What exactly had happened between the three of them, but he figured it was a long story. Too long to tell him now. So he went back inside, and Andrew followed him, going to sit in the living room instead. At the same time, there was a knock on the door, and he began making his way to it before Peter jumped in front of him, shoving him to the side.

He swung the door open, his smile fading as he did so, because Gemma, Elton, Eleanor, and Ivy stood at the door. Oliver felt as though he had been left behind in a way. Everybody seemed deeply interconnected. Like the relationships between them had always existed, and it was just him being left to the side. He didn’t know exactly how to feel about that, but he knew that it didn’t make him feel… good. 

“You see, I picked them all up to make sure they’d come,” Ivy explained, showing each of them off, but focusing especially on Eleanor. Eleanor most likely wouldn’t have come if it weren’t for Ivy’s insistence. Elton and Ivy had always been friends. She was one of the exceptions to Elton’s indescribable hate toward their entire year. “Plus, I’m not going to drink, so may as well pick them up and drop them home.”

“Right,” Peter nodded his head with a smile, bringing her into a hug. Ivy willingly stepped into it as he wrapped one arm around her back, and gestured toward his room, “Well done, Ivy.” 

“Are you waiting for somebody specific, Jones?” Elton asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. Peter jerked his head toward him, “Or, is it Wood that is waiting?” 

“Let’s say both,” he told him, and Elton’s chest sank as a grin grew on his face, passing by Peter. Terence waited at the door, smirking as he got closer, and welcomed him with a kiss, holding up a drink in his other hand for him. Elton grinned, kissing him, and taking the drink at the same time. But as Oliver stood in the hall, watching them, he knew something must have happened between them—Elton and Peter. Peter turned back to him, “So… It’s just Percy, Penelope, and Isaac.”

“Yes,” Oliver replied, smiling, because he almost forgot about that part. He had been so preoccupied, attempting to read Elton and Peter. But now, he could focus fully on Percy. He had Andrew there in case anything went sideways. And finally, there was a knock at the door, and Peter rushed over before Oliver could. Again, he swung the door open, and they stood there together. Percy looked as though he was pissed off about something. “Hi!” Oliver said before Peter could this time. 

“Hi!” Penelope said back, her body relaxing as she heard this. She found Peter, and her cheeks went pink again. Oliver didn’t know how Peter never noticed this, because nothing could be more prominent. Percy chuckled, and slid past them, walking right by Oliver as though he wasn’t even there. He frowned, freezing for a moment. Peter was showing Penelope inside, but as he walked into the room, she stopped, and turned to Oliver. She stared at him as if she knew something he didn’t. “I’m guessing I wasn’t the one you were excited to see.”

“You could be,” Oliver offered, holding up a hand like he was holding something out to her. She glanced at his hand, her face dropping into an expression reflecting pity, which could only mean one thing. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, Oliver, it is,” she told him. Oliver felt a sudden wave of fear crash over him. If she knew, there would be no time until Percy knew too, and then he would never be able to show his face anywhere near him again. “I won’t tell him, but you should eventually. You know, uh, better to have the question answered than be asking it forever.”

“He hates me,” he said to her, like she wasn’t aware of that. As if she wasn’t his best friend, and hadn’t witnessed their feud go back and forth for many years. 

She tilted her head to the side, and sighed, “He doesn’t hate you, Oliver. He’s a person whose trust needs to be earned.”

Oliver nodded. That made sense. He slowly looked back to her after realising he had been staring at an empty spot on the wall, “Peter likes you,” he told her, which made her grin. “Threw this whole thing for you, honestly.”

“I know it wasn’t his idea,” she chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She always seemed to do that when Peter was around her. And now, simply when his name had been mentioned. “It was yours, so I mean, use it, right?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, understanding what she was getting at. He figured that he might have a chance. Penelope was the type of friend who would throw herself in front of a bullet for the people she loved. She wouldn’t tell him to go for it if she didn’t see something… promising. She slowly turned around, her entire body lighting up as she approached Peter. Oliver followed her, glancing around the room, and seeing the groups that sat in different areas. 

Peter was showing Penelope where the variety of drinks were, listing the names as he pointed at each of them. Penelope already knew the names of them. It was obvious, because she wasn’t looking at the drinks. She was gazing at Peter instead. Then, Oliver heard something along the lines of but you don’t have to drink at all if you don’t want to. To which, she said that she would love to.

Marcus and Gemma immediately drifted toward each other. They stood face to face, their shoulders against the wall as they spoke in low voices to each other. Oliver didn’t think much of it. They were usually exchanging secrets with each other. Beside them, Elton and Terence sat with their backs against the wall. Elton sat under Terence’s arm with a soft smile, and Terence was smirking. So they were flirting. Again, that was nothing new. 

And eventually, his eyes creeped over to Percy, where he was sitting with Eleanor and Ivy. The three of them were laughing about something together. It seemed to be something Percy said that had made them laugh, which never came as a surprise. Percy was funny. Very witty. He always knew what to say. He immediately picked up on things that everybody else missed. His mind was something to envy, but Oliver didn’t. He adored it, really. 

He nodded his head, and decided that he was going in. He dragged his feet across the ground, attempting to act as casual as he could about the whole ordeal. He stopped, turning on his feet as he sat beside Percy, who momentarily glanced at him before resuming his conversation. Oliver grinned, “It is nice to see you here, Eleanor.” 

And it was not an invitation

Should’ve kissed you anyway

Should’ve kissed you anyway

“Yeah, you’re cooler than the rest of the people here,” Ivy added, gently nudging her. She couldn’t resist a grin herself, staring at Eleanor as if she had discovered a gold mine. Or, really, her entire life seemed like a gold mine, so she found something greater than that. 

Eleanor bit on her lip, clearly smiling, “Am I?” She asked quietly, like this wasn’t something that she would usually hear, and it probably wasn’t from the general public. But it was definitely something she could have heard from Ivy in the past. 

“Yes, of course you are,” Ivy assured her. Eleanor glanced at her, grinning helplessly. Oliver knew they were holding onto the friendship, but he wished they would ruin it. A butterfly can’t be a butterfly without a chrysalis being formed around them as caterpillars. If they were so afraid of changing, they would never have the chance to see the beauty in what could be. Then, Penelope’s words replayed in his head, and realised that applied to them.

Staying friends is safe

Doesn’t mean you should

Percy grabbed onto Oliver’s arm, tugging him off the floor, to which Oliver didn’t have to force himself up. He would easily follow Percy anywhere. Butterflies swarmed inside his stomach, sending a funny feeling all over his body, and he swore every thought in his mind had come to a screeching halt. He swore his heart had skipped a beat. 

And this is how it starts

“What was that for?” Oliver asked, still feeling that same electricity run through his veins just from Percy’s touch.

Percy ripped his eyes away from whatever he had been previously focusing on, “What?” He shook his head, like that didn’t make any sense. 

“You grabbed my arm,” Oliver informed him, trying so hard to be casual about every bit of it. But he couldn’t be. He didn’t realise how hard it would be. To attempt to act normal around the guy he had been thinking about endlessly for almost a month. 

“Yeah, because Ivy and Eleanor are clearly flirting,” Percy sighed, tilting his head toward them, attempting to mask the fact he was gesturing toward them, “They’re not gonna do much more if we’re there, are they?”

“No, they probably wouldn’t,” Oliver nodded, clearing his throat. He didn’t really think about that part. He was too distracted by the fact he was sitting beside Percy, and too distracted by the fact Percy had touched him. He blinked hard, because Percy hadn’t moved yet. He laughed, “I’m surprised you drink. Wouldn’t that mess with your organs and brains and shit?”

“Oh, I care about my grades,” Percy scoffed, rolling his eyes. Oliver licked his lips before softly biting on it as he stared at Percy. Percy pursed his lips, “That doesn’t mean I never have fun. And you’re the athlete, Wood, why are you drinking?”

She’s got a boyfriend anyway

She’s got a boyfriend anyway

“A drink once in a while can’t hurt. And I plan to work out tomorrow morning anyway,” Oliver smirked, standing up straighter. He recalled a couple years ago when he was talking about football, and everybody around him was hanging onto his every word. Maybe Percy would do too.

“You’re saying that like you’re bragging, and I don’t care,” Percy stated, nodding his head as he decided to walk away. 

“Hm,” Oliver hummed as Percy walked by him, quickly throwing him a glare before he reached into the esky Andrew had put the drinks in. He lifted one out, looking around the room, but refusing to meet Oliver’s eyes again. Nobody else had moved, which meant that Percy didn’t have anywhere else to be. Marcus and Gemma were in their own bubble, Elton and Terence were one look away from making out, and he wouldn’t be willing to intrude elsewhere. Plus, Isaac was nowhere to be found. Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, approaching Percy near the door, “Where’s Isaac?”

“Why are you following me?” Percy questioned in return, snapping his head to Oliver like it was baffling that he was even near him. 

“Everybody else is with each other,” Oliver sputtered, throwing quick glances around the room to show how everybody else was in pairs. That seemed like a safe reply. It wouldn’t require much questioning afterwards. He had it planned out in his head—he couldn’t tell Percy about his feelings too soon. He had to wait until he didn’t hate him anymore. 

“Yeah, but Isaac will save me when he gets here,” Percy quipped, dipping his head forward. Oliver smiled at him, to which Percy’s joking demeanor faltered slightly. Neither of them had the opportunity to say anything else when Isaac stumbled in, apparently already drunk, and with another guy. 

Oliver’s face screwed up. When he saw Isaac and Marcus the other day, they were close, and it seemed like they had been for a while. “Who the fuck is this?” Oliver asked, to which Percy laughed, shaking his head as he walked away.  

“Daniel,” Isaac smirked, holding onto his hand. “I met him at my work. Thought he could accompany me here.”

“Oh, but his face is quite depressing,” Marcus called out from across the room with a wink. He had his arms folded with his side against the wall, and a drink in his hand, staring at Isaac. Oliver wasn’t great at reading people, but he knew Marcus didn’t like this. It seemed like he was more than ready to get his knuckles bloodied. He pushed himself off the wall, slowly inching closer to them, “Thought you had more dignity than that, Winston.”

“No, uh, but it’s cute that you think I could do better,” Isaac replied. Oliver looked back over to Percy, who was sitting on the bed, watching them intently. Like he was expecting something to go wrong. Maybe he had picked up on their… whatever was going on between them. 

“I didn’t say you could,” Marcus sneered, shaking his head. 

“You didn’t really have to,” Isaac sniggered. 

But Marcus looked over to Daniel, scrunching his eyebrows up, and it wasn’t long until everybody in the room was watching, “So, David—“

“Daniel,” Isaac corrected knowingly, staring at him with a smirk. Oliver backed away from them. Partly because he played out the scenario where Marcus actually threw punches, and Oliver would be in the danger zone. And partly because he wanted to speak to Percy.

“That’s unimportant,” Marcus told him.

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “It’s my name.”

“So, unimportant,” he nodded, like this fact had been confirmed. “How long have you even known Winston?”

“Uh, I mean, we met at a party a while ago,” he explained sheepishly. “But uh, we saw each other again today, and Isaac, uh, he invited me to this.”

“Right,” Marcus drawled, glancing at Isaac. He smirked, like a thought had passed through his mind. One that he didn’t like that much. “You shagged yet? Wait, no, you couldn’t have. Winston doesn’t have that flushed look, or maybe you’re just, uh, not very good.”

Daniel gaped like him like he had absolutely no idea what to say, and neither did anybody else around the room. Music continued to play in the background. 

“Well, come in, Daniel,” Peter said nervously, showing him toward the drinks. Daniel glanced back for a moment, like he was making sure he hadn’t imagined that interaction. Everybody slowly resumed their conversations, but did that mean something had already happened between them? 

“Okay, so I suppose I have to be tortured with your presence all night,” Percy mumbled from behind Oliver.

“Suppose so,” Oliver replied with a smile as he sat beside Percy. 

~•~

Wait

And pretend

And hope that we’ll find our way back in the end

As the night went on, and Percy went through his drinks at a slow rate, Oliver saw as he slightly loosened up. His shoulders went stacked near his ears. His body wasn’t tense, and he even leaned in to speak to Oliver. Oliver could feel as the world began shifting around him, appearing slightly different than it had before. Or maybe that could just be the Percy Weasley effect.

The two of them sat side by side on the floor with their backs against the bed. It was a decision Percy made, and Oliver followed him again. He dipped his head back against the mattress, glancing over to him, and he just couldn’t believe his luck at that moment. Of course, Percy had insulted him a few times, but it was slowing down.

“Do you date much, Percy?” Oliver asked, surprisingly capable of thinking back to a conversation that he had with Terence, and Marcus about Percy. He wondered if he was dating anybody then. He had always seemed to be focused on school, but it also seemed like he was good at juggling different parts of his life.

 “Uh, I mean, I’ve dated a few blokes, but over the summer, I went through a bad breakup,” Percy explained, squinting as he spoke. He chuckled, although it wasn’t because he seemed to find any bit of it funny, “Kind of turned me off that entire scene”

Do you think I have forgotten

Do you think I have forgotten

Do you think I have forgotten

About you?

“What happened?” Oliver murmured, pushing his eyebrows together. He had seen Percy go through many emotions over the years, but he had only seen this one once. He remembered it almost as clear as day. He saw him with Penelope. They were sitting close together, and she was softly rubbing his back. That was in year eight. He remembered wanting to see what happened, but the group of guys he hung out with were calling his name. He never got the chance.

“I caught him in bed with another person,” Percy confessed quietly, looking down at the ground. “But I’m over it now.” 

“I wouldn’t be over that,” Oliver said to him, because he couldn’t imagine somebody doing that to him, and he couldn’t imagine getting over it. Percy lifted his shoulders and sighed. “That’s just… That’s awful.”

“Yeah, but I don’t even think it was the worst part,” Percy told him, and Oliver looked up again, wondering what that could possibly mean.

Drowning in the Blue Nile

He sent me Downtown Lights

I hadn’t heard it in a while

But before he could ask, Percy started chuckling, his shoulders softly shaking. He lifted a finger, pointing at the roof, “The song. Penelope definitely chose it.” 

“How do you know that?” Oliver asked softly, paying attention to how they slowly got closer over the period of time. Percy’s leg was bent, leaning gently onto Oliver’s leg, and he had no idea whether or not he should read into it. If Percy was doing it on purpose, or if he just didn’t notice it, because he was drunk.

“Penelope loves Taylor Swift,” Percy explained. “This is one of her favourites.” 

“Do you like Taylor Swift?” Oliver questioned, remembering to keep his voice gentle. 

He had this overwhelming feeling of hunger. Not the type of hunger you feel in your stomach when it is absent of food, but the type of hunger that comes along with greed, and wanting more and more to the point you’re almost delirious. He always wanted to know more about Percy. 

“Um, yeah, I do,” Percy said quietly, almost with embarrassment. But Oliver didn’t mind, because at least he was being honest, even despite the embarrassment he was feeling. That meant Oliver was at least doing one thing right. 

“What’s your favourite song by her?” 

Percy smirked. “Wood.” 

“What?” Oliver looked around with confusion, wondering why that was where Percy drew the line. “It’s just a question.”

“That’s the song name, idiot,” Percy chuckled, pushing his shoulder with a closed fist gently.

“Oh, it is?”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be funny though, because of your name and all,” Percy told him, and a smile spread across Oliver’s face. So puns. That was what he found funny. Oliver made a mental note about that. “My favourite, right now, is probably tolerate it.” 

“Play it,” Oliver said, pointing to the phone beside Percy.

He glanced at it, and shook his head. “No, it’s not… a party song.”

“But it’s your favourite,” Oliver uttered, tilting his head against the mattress as he stared at Percy. 

“But—“

“Fine, I’ll put it on,” Oliver declared, climbing over to Percy to reach for his phone, quickly placing it in front of his face to unlock it. Percy made no attempt to stop him, so Oliver continued, pressing onto the music app. He typed it into the search bar, immediately tapping on it, and bringing it to his ear. 

As the song went on, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what it could be about. He pictured it, imagining Percy was the one singing it. Sitting at a table that was his own, only finding that the person who had built it with him no longer welcomed him there. He poured everything he had into creating a nurtured area, only to discover that it was rotting away, because it wasn’t receiving the care it needed. He wasn’t receiving the care he needed.

He gave him his best, and he couldn’t figure out what else he could give. He knew whatever love that had once existed between them had faded into resentment. The love he was giving was no longer being celebrated, it was just being tolerated. And to have felt those lyrics was something Oliver couldn’t understand, and he knew he never wanted to. Because whoever the song was about made him feel worthless, a waste of space, and time.

He felt a tear trickle down his cheek as the song slowly faded out. 

“Are you—are you crying?” Percy asked, leaning forward as though he needed to take a look. Their faces were only inches apart, so very close, with Percy’s hands placed on his shoulders.

“Yes, okay?” Oliver replied, quickly bringing a hand to his face to wipe the tear away, “It’s—what the fuck? Why would you show me this?”

“Okay, you asked to see it,” Percy said with a smile, dropping his head to the side. His glare was good. But in comparison to his smile—smiling at Oliver—it was really nothing. He never wanted to see anything else after seeing that.

“But it’s so sad, Percy,” Oliver whined jokingly, leaning closer as he shook his head with a frown, “Why is it so sad?”

“Well, it’s the music I feel most connected to, I s’pose,” Percy shrugged. 

“Is that—is that how he made you feel? The guy?” He asked.

“I—yeah, it is,” Percy murmured, seemingly surprised that Oliver caught onto that. “It’s okay now, though. Really, it’s fine.”

“You don’t take up too much space,” Oliver informed him matter of factly, pushing his shoulder against Percy’s. He glanced at his lips, and they seemed so soft. Oliver would like to know how they felt. “I feel like you take up, like, a good amount of space. And also, you never waste my time. If I had the option of spending all day listening to you list all the ways I should kill myself, I totally would.”

“You’re an idiot,” Percy laughed, pushing his shoulder against Oliver’s slightly harder, but not too hard, and not in a bad way. In a playful way. Oliver grinned, feeling proud of himself, but insurmountably grateful that Percy had warmed up to him.

No one’s ever had me

Not like you

“I’ll listen to Wood now,” Oliver stated, going back onto Percy’s phone.

“No, I definitely wouldn’t,” Percy said, reaching over Oliver’s body, trying to grab his phone back. Oliver grinned, holding it slightly back as he continued to reach out for it. He had his hand by Oliver’s side, laughing as he tried to get it back. “Give it back, you moron.”

Truth, dare, spin bottles,

You know how to ball,

I know Aristotle

“Why?” Oliver asked, shaking the phone as Percy glanced between him and his hand. Oliver grinned as Percy found his eye. He tilted his head to the side as though to express annoyance, but he was still smiling at him.

“Okay, go,” Percy said, not moving. Oliver had never felt this hunger before. He sat back, and held his arm out, gesturing toward the phone, “Listen.”

“Alright,” Oliver nodded his head with pride as he searched that one up. He began bobbing his head along with the song, because it was very different compared to tolerate it. He grinned, glancing back at Percy, because he didn’t know why Percy was so opposed to him listening, until it came to one line. Percy laughed at him as Oliver paused, and placed the phone next to him with a grin, “I honestly had a feeling it would go in that direction. I’m sure—I’m sure you’ll find your Wood.” 

Percy continued laughing, somehow harder than before. He dropped his head to Oliver’s shoulder, shaking it softly. Oliver froze, attempting to remain as still as he could. He let his eyes wander for a moment, only to Elton staring at him knowingly, and wiggling an eyebrow at him.

Percy gasped suddenly, sending a wave of anxiety over Oliver for a moment, before he jumped up, clearly recognising the song. He rushed over Penelope, grabbing her hand gallantly, almost like it was a joke. But Penelope willingly took it. 

I never did believe in miracles

But I have a feeling it’s time to try

Oliver walked over to Peter, who smiled at the two of them, “Perce is definitely drunk,” he laughed, pointing at him as he twirled Penelope around. Oliver let his eyes crawl over there, and he could’ve melted. The way Percy beamed with light, grinning like he had never seen him before. Penelope meant a great deal to Percy, and he meant a great deal to her. She had essentially given Oliver her blessing, and he wouldn’t fuck it up for anything.

“I fancy Percy,” he confessed to Peter, stepping closer to him to whisper. 

Peter laughed even louder that time, “Took you a bit to figure that out, Oliver. You have for ages. Year ten, I’m guessing.” 

Oliver dropped his head to Peter’s shoulder. “God, he looks so… so beautiful,” he murmured, like he was coming to terms with the fact he liked him all over again, because it really felt like he was. The ache that panged in his chest, the fuzzy feeling that lived inside his head with Percy’s presence, and the waves of heat that continued to crash over him. He could hardly stand it, but the sight of Percy brought him back.

“She looks so beautiful,” Peter repeated, observing her with stars in his eyes. “She always does.”

“He hates me though,” Oliver said, grabbing Peter’s shoulders, and shaking him like he had to get that through his head. “He hates me.”

“I don’t really think so,” Peter disagreed, his face screwing up. “You should’ve seen him looking at you, man. He laughed and dropped his head to your shoulder.”

“Well he didn’t have anywhere else to put it,” Oliver shrugged, lifting his shoulders, and dropping them with a loud sigh. 

Peter laughed again, grabbing his shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly.