It Happened One-Night Stand

Miroslav

Story Summary:
When Marcus Flint and Percy Weasley agree to a verbal contract in which they would have a one-night stand and then never speak of it again, secret crushes are revealed and both their lives are changed forever (Slash, Marcus/Percy)

Chapter 02 - Gonna Be A Long Night

Chapter Summary:
No one ever said Marcus Flint was a nice man. He's a Slytherin, after all, and that means he can be as diabolical as he likes.
Posted:
01/04/2006
Hits:
1,401


Chapter Two -- Gonna Be a Long Night

"Do you believe in love at first sight
Just one glance and you know
Well I do and I'll tell you what it's like
It's something that can't be described

And I'll never let it go
This feeling that feels so right
You're the reason I'm not sleeping lately
You keep me up all night
I've got no where to hide
From the vision you left behind
Though I try to fight

It's gonna be a long night."

~ "Sleepless" by Wave

Some days were extremely predictable. You woke up, had breakfast, went to Quidditch practice, took a break, went back to practice, had dinner, and then you went to bed. Those were predictable days. Then there were days that were totally random. Days you could never have predicted, not in a million years.

Days like when Marcus Flint randomly showed up in your flat, for example.

Oliver Wood stared at the Slytherin warily. "So...remind me how you got into my locked-spelled flat again? And why? Why would definitely be a good thing to answer."

Flint smirked from where he was draped leisurely on Oliver's couch. "What? We were Quidditch Captains together. I wanted to see how you were doing as a reservist for the Puddlemere United." He glanced around the barren room and his smirk widened. "They obviously don't pay you that well."

Oliver just stared for another moment, and then thrust a hand towards the door. "Get the hell out of my flat!"

Flint pursed his lips and shook his head in mock-regret. "Really, Wood, I thought you'd be a better host."

"I'm a better host to invited guests!" he snapped, and clenched his fists when Flint remained sprawled on the couch. Why the hell was Flint even here? They hadn't kept in touch after graduating, hell, they hadn't talked during Hogwarts except when forced to before Quidditch matches. "Why the fuck are you here, Flint?"

An almost leer, and then Flint said, "I was curious to see if you had a lover hanging around."

The drawling words made Oliver blink and then he turned red, both from rage and embarrassment. The very thought of what that leer meant made him shudder in revulsion. "I'm not interested in banging you, Flint."

"And I'm not interested in banging you, Wood," drawled Flint, wrinkling his nose at the very idea. He leered. "I can tell you who is a good fuck though."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I don't want to know, Flint, so leave. And just in case you ever get it into your head to come here again, you're not welcomed and I don't and won't want to hear about your sex life."

Flint's eyes widened in mock-surprise, and he propped himself up on an elbow. "What? You mean you don't want to hear how good Percy Weasley is with his hands?"

Everything stopped at that. Oliver could feel his very heart still in his chest for a long moment of astonishment, all of his emotions replaced by the sharp sensation of shock and disbelief. Percy Weasley, good with his hands? Wait, Percy and Flint? His heart finally started pumping again, at an accelerated rate, and he realized he'd been staring dumbly at a still-smirking Flint for a good minute or so. "What?" he finally gasped.

Flint seemed pleased with his reaction, if that wicked smile was any indication. "Percy Weasley. I don't know how he got that experienced with his hands, but he was really--"

Oliver grabbed the front of Flint's robes and twisted them until the other man's face was red from the restriction on his throat. "Percy Weasley is not some slut," he heard himself snarl, startled at his own vehemence, "and I'm going to make you wish you didn't just try to make such bullshit up."

Flint, though turning crimson, managed a shaky smirk. "Go...and...ask him yourself. Ask him if he didn't meet...me at a Muggle motel...for a one-night stand." He winced as Oliver twisted the robes tighter. "F-fuck, Wood. Why're you...so angry? Disappointed that...you missed out?"

Oliver released him, feeling his face turn red again and his stomach churn with an unnamed emotion that he labeled as anger for the sake of his own sanity. "Shut your fucking mouth, Flint," he snapped. "I don't like people like you badmouthing innocents like Percy, that's all."

"Especially if...the innocent happens...to be Percy?" Even red-faced and gasping for breath, there was a sly note to Flint's voice and an odd, smug little smile on his face. Flint stood, and tossed out a random series of numbers and a word. It took Oliver a second to realize that Flint had just given him an address. "That's where...Weasley's flat is." The Slytherin took in a deep breath. "You can ask him yourself."

He sauntered towards the door as Oliver glared after him. Opening the door, Flint looked over his shoulder and leered again. "If you're lucky, he might even offer to show you how skilled he is with his hands." The door closed before Oliver could leap after him to choke an apology out of the smarmy bastard.

Oliver stared at the door for a second, feeling a million emotions at once. Disbelief, anger, bewilderment, frustration. This was a...very unusual day. He sighed after a moment, passing a hand over his face. Well, if this day was weird, he might as well just go with the flow and go to see Percy and ask him why exactly Marcus Flint was making up sordid stories about him.

The idea that Flint might be telling the truth never once occurred to him.

*

When Percy opened the door of his flat, his expression shifted from one of polite inquiry to one of absolute astonishment. For a second there was silence, and then Percy blurted out, "Oliver? Oliver Wood?"

He could feel his face heat up at the incredulousness in his old year-mate's voice. "H-hey, Percy...." Oliver rubbed at the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. After all, he'd dropped all correspondences with pretty much everyone after graduation, and Percy had been one of the many he'd lost contact with. In fact, Oliver hadn't even responded to a polite congratulations letter sent by Percy after his acceptance as a reservist for the Puddlemere United. "I...it's been a weird day. Mind if I come in, or is this a bad time?"

"It's...." Percy stared at him for another moment, baby blue eyes wide behind those horn-rimmed glasses of his. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he said, and smiled gratefully, stepping into the other man's flat and glancing around. It was as, well, empty as his own, and he settled himself on the couch, his smile now awkward as he looked up at Percy.

Percy smiled uncertainly back before he sat down in a chair adjacent to the Quidditch player. "So...it's been a weird day?" he probed after a moment of uncomfortable silence in which Oliver tried to figure out what to say and came up blank, too distracted by the fact that Percy was almost exactly the same as he remembered him -- horn-rimmed glasses perched firmly on his nose, freckles that splattered his face, and slightly mussed copper hair that fell around his face and was never quite as prim and proper as the rest of the man.

"A very weird day. Marcus Flint broke into my flat," he said, and was surprised when Percy went white. Perhaps Flint had also broken into Percy's? "That man's insane. He sprawls himself on my couch and comes up with this ridiculous story about a one-night stand and then gives me your address to ask you to confirm his story."

"A one...one-night stand?" said Percy weakly, and Oliver was even more startled to see that Percy's knuckles were white as he held onto the arms of his chair. "And...and my address?"

"Yes, he...he said some...." Oliver stopped, flustered. Until now, he hadn't thought about how he would even ask Percy about the story. It hadn't occurred to him that he and Percy had never talked about relationships, or even girls. Even Percy's relationship with Penelope had just been 'Hear you're with that Clearwater girl - Oh, yes, I am' and that had been the extent of the conversation. Now he was supposed to ask Percy if he'd really been banged by Marcus Flint? "He said some...very ridiculous things," he finally said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. "Like, well, that you both were poofs, for one."

Percy's face, still white, now went pinched. "Poof? That's a very...negative word."

"Fine, he said you were both homosexuals." Oliver rubbed at his face, wishing his stomach would stop churning like a storm in a teacup. "Do you want me to hex him for you? He can't go around making up rumors about you being homosexual and expect to get away with it...." He stopped at the flicker of...hurt?...that crossed Percy's face. "What?"

"I...didn't realize you felt so strongly against homosexuals, Oliver. I always, well, I always thought you were more accepting than that." When Percy spoke, it was in a quiet, controlled voice, and it was as though that flicker of pain had been Oliver's imagination, for now Percy's face was completely blank.

Oliver blinked, and found himself blushing hotly, and babbling out words that had the taste of apologetic embarrassment to them. "I didn't mean to make it sound like I'm against them.... I just...you know how the wizarding world feels about those relationships. I just, I just figured if he went around telling random people, you might get in trouble at the Ministry...."

"He didn't tell random people. He just told you," said Percy in a quiet voice, and Oliver blinked.

"Oh." He processed that for a moment, the heat never fading from his cheeks, his stomach twisting even more than before, and wetted his lips. "So...what does that mean, exactly?" There was silence, and he could feel himself break out into an icy, nervous sweat that raised goose-bumps on his flesh.

Percy's face, meanwhile, remained blank, and when he spoke, it was in his familiar crisp voice that meant the end of a discussion. "Nothing. It just means Marcus has a very...twisted sense of humor, that's all." He got to his feet in a single jerky movement. "Thank you for your concern about my job, but I am sure the Ministry will not hear of my...little escapade." Bitterness coated the last two words. "Flint is the epitome of a closet case."

"Then why'd he tell me so casually?" Oliver demanded, trying not to focus on the thought that Percy had just admitted he'd slept with Flint.

A crooked smile twisted Percy's lips. "Because he's an asshole."

He blinked at that. When had he ever heard the other man curse? "What?"

"Because he's an asshole," Percy repeated. "A bastard, a back-stabber, a total liar!" Some emotion slipped back into his face, and he looked pained. "I should've known better than to trust a Slytherin."

"So there was a one-night stand?" Oliver hadn't meant to ask it, and as the question slipped from his lips, he realized he didn't want to know. The very idea of Flint...touching Percy in any way made him want to hit something, like the very idea of Percy snogging Penelope Clearwater had, and...oh hell. Hadn't he told himself after graduation that he was done with this daft little crush? He couldn't look at Percy anymore, and began studying his own hands, startled to realize that they were really rather grubby. Hadn't he taken a shower after practice?

He didn't look up when Percy answered him, the redhead's voice trembling ever-so-slightly. "There was a verbal contract. We'd have a one-night stand, and never speak of it again. It-it fell through, we didn't do it, and so I suppose that Marcus felt that meant he was free to tell you about it...."

"Why me?" Oliver clasped his hands together, still not daring to look up at Percy and see if that mask of blankness had slipped even more. He closed his eyes, willing for his stomach to stop churning and twisting.

Percy's laugh was mirthless. "C'mon, Wood, why do you think?"

"I...." He wanted to wet his lips but his mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert. "I don't know...."

The other man snorted, but when he spoke, it was in a sad, gentle voice. "Don't know, or don't want to know, Oliver? If it's the latter, that's...all right. I didn't expect you to." He hesitated. "If it's the former, I...don't make me explain it, please." And there was a weary note to his voice, one that made Oliver look up.

Percy was resting his head in his hands, shoulders slumped, the picture of weariness and dejection. His copper hair had fallen in front of his face, shielding his expression, but Oliver knew it was one of pain.

"Percy," he found himself saying softly, and then louder when Percy didn't move. "Percy." The other man still didn't even flinch, and Oliver stood, looking down at him. His stomach stopped its frantic churning as he reached out and pushed those copper strands away from Percy's face.

At that, Percy inhaled sharply and looked up, eyes as wide as when he had opened his door and seen Oliver. Those baby blue eyes were now rimmed with red as though Percy had been furiously blinking back tears. It was only when Percy stared and blushed that Oliver realized his fingers were still tangled in those copper strands.

He kept his fingers entwined in the other man's mane. "Percy," he said again, at a loss for words, but feeling the lack of words build up as pressure in his chest until he couldn't quite breathe. "Percy."

A tremulous smile spread across those freckled, reddened cheeks, and very quietly Percy said, "Oliver." Oliver watched as the other man's trembling hands reached up to rest gently on Oliver's. Percy wetted his lips, and Oliver found himself again staring as light made those lips gleam. "What traitorous doubts are in your head, Oliver Wood?"

Oliver blinked, not really understanding the question, and knew his bewilderment was written on his face.

Percy swallowed, hard, and then whispered, "Our doubts are traitors, Oliver, and make us lose the good we oft might win. What doubts do you have?"

And Oliver, looking at the tremulous smile still quivering on Percy's lips and the way those blue eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, finally thought he understood. Doubts? He had doubts -- doubts that this wouldn't turn tragic once their families found out, doubts that love could last through adversity of war and disapproval -- yes, he had plenty of doubts. But he didn't doubt what a good thing he -- they -- would lose if he let this moment go because of those doubts. Because love, even a love that lasted for only a one-night stand even, was love.

"What doubts?" Percy whispered again, that tremulous smile beginning to falter and shift to an embarrassed, weary smile of understanding that Oliver was going to realize what he was asking and say: too many doubts to love you.

But then Oliver smiled and said a simple response that made that tremulous smile turn to one of joy and wonder, a few simple words that made the tears of pain unshed in those baby blue eyes spill down Percy's face as tears of joy.

"No doubts at all," said Oliver, and kissed Percy softly on the mouth.

"Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me."

~ "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer

" Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt.
"


I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of It Happened One-Night Stand! Please remember to read my other fics.