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Sep. 26th, 2004 02:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gala_applesthis is alcoholicberry's fic. i hope she enjoys!
Title:Knight Bus
Pairing:Percy/Oliver/Stan
Rating:r-ish?
Summary: percy learns a few lessons about not always having to use words to communicate.
nichol likes: art, beauty, black, butterscotch, communication, cream, eyes, friends, frilly shirts, iced cakes, love, rain, stan shunpike, tight pants, words, your mother, zippers.
This had somehow gone very downhill, very quickly. All he had done was board the Knight Bus, to go back to his parents house. He thought he should apoligise for the last year, and traveling by Knight Bus gave him the most time to think of what to say.
But now he was on a bed that was sliding all over the floor, inside a purple bus, with a friend of seven years on one side, and a stranger standing near him.
They were both sexy. There was just no question about it. That’s why Percy was so screwed.
Oliver had strong shoulders, and strong thigh muscles from playing quidditch. He was wearing a pair of grey-blue pvc pants, and they were very tight. He was wearing one of those black wool sweaters he had worn throughout his Hogwarts days, which suited his hair.
And the conductor, he was just yummy. Percy had a bit of a neck fetish, and the man had a lot of neck. He also had the start of a scraggly beard, and Percy felt like reaching out and stroking his face.
But of course he couldn’t, it wouldn’t be proper. I mean, as much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t. it really wouldn’t be good if he did it…
“Excuse me, mister?”
Percy looked up. Oh god, his hand was on the man’s face.
“I am so sorry, Mr…”
“I’m Stan Shunpike. Erm, it’s ok. No need to be sorry. You actually have a very smooth hand.”
“Thank you.” Percy said absentmindedly, most of his brain concentrated in not bursting out of his pants as Stan’s adam’s apple flickered.
“Um, is there a bathroom on this bus?”
“Yes, on the third level.”
“Thank you.” Percy sprinted up the two sets of stairs, and locked the door of the bathroom. He unzipped the gold metal, and tugged the waistband down. Just as he was about to do what he needed to, he heard a “Alohomora!” called out, and the door handle creaked as it opened.
“Thought you might need help.” Oliver murmured.
“Help with what? With shitting?” normally Percy wouldn’t be so crude, but he really needed Oliver to go away. “Well, no thank you. I’m sure I can handle it by myself.”
Oliver moved a few feet, until he was standing right beside Percy. “Yes, well can you handle this by yourself?” he asked, grabbing at the redhead’s groin.
“I’ve managed for the last few years of my life.” he said, swallowing hard. For some reason, his pride wouldn’t give into his lust.
“Oh, come on. I saw you looking at me, I know you want me too. So I thought about you for a minute, and it’s nasty fucking in a bathroom, but nothing’s wrong with mutual wanking. So some on!”
Instead of speaking about the subject at hand, Percy arched his neck to give his ear more to the roof. “What’s that noise?”
“It’s raining. You can hear it bounce on the metal of the bus. But don’t change the subject. You know you want me to. Why can’t you just say yes?”
“because… because it’s wrong! What would your mother say if she knew you were doing this! What would my mother say! I somehow doubt they would like it!”
Oliver leaned in, and whispered “So…” then kissed Percy long and hard. It seemed like Oliver’s lips said ‘does it matter’ and Oliver’s teeth said ‘to hell with our mothers’ and his tongue said ‘it’s not wrong’ and the kiss itself was smart enough to go beyond words. That’s when Percy realised talking wasn’t the only way of communicating, and maybe he could go home, and kiss his apology into Molly’s cheek.
And then somehow Oliver was naked, and Percy’s pants were off, leaving only his ruffled shirt. And Oliver was undoing buttons, and running his hand down the v it made, shivering as the lacy ruffle that prevented it from undoing the whole way moved against his arm.
Oliver was doing all the work, he had always been a Ravenclaw in that way, so Percy was content with just looking at him. His skin was cream and milk mixed with a drop of coffee. His eyes were golden brown butterscotch like the icing mum used to put on his birthday cakes. His body was art, the slightly dangling open mouth was beauty, his hips were love. Oliver was simply… perfect.
As Oliver started to grab in places that made Percy squeal, a cough eminated from the door behind them. “Eleven Sickles for the use a my room. But for firteen you get strawberries, an’ for fifteen you get a condom an’ a dildo in the colour of your choice.”
Percy blushed from head to toe, as Oliver moved so he could see Stan Shunpike standing there. He blushed even fiercer when Oliver gestured to his erection and said, “Hey, this is all yours. It happened because of you, I was just filling the void.”
“I reckon ‘e could share.”
And all of a sudden, his back was pressed against a cold damp sink but his front pressed against muscle, and bones hardly covered with skin. He had millions of fingers on all the right areas, some thick and strong from Quidditch, some thin and veiny.
Seeing the way they were standing beside each other, and him, he realised body language was more then words also. He tried to pose for ‘ravish me’ and ‘yum’ and please god do that again’ and it worked out quite well.
Half an hour later, he stumbled off the bus properly debauched. He stuck notes on each of the bedroom doors; ‘I’m an idiot’ and ‘you’re a good mother’ belonged on the same door. on a much more scarred door went, ‘I thought the dung was a good idea’ and ‘good work with messing up that bitch’. ‘I’m sorry I abandoned you’ went on the youngest door. He was about to put a note on the last door, and heard the tandem snores, so he wrote another one. ‘I’m sorry for trying to control you by letters’ and ‘I shouldn’t have insinuated you were violent.’
Finally, he climbed the stairs to his old room, expecting ruins from the tempers of Fred and George, surprised when there wasn’t. he left a note on his door and pulled dusty sheets over his clothed body.
It said: I’m gay.
I lost my virginity in the Knight Bus on my way here.
I hate not being in control.
I hate being wrong, and attack people when I am.
I’m your brother, and your son. Do with me what you want.
Cause after all, sometimes words were necessary. Words were what Percy was used to, and he would try to work his body more often, but words were necessary too.
Title:Knight Bus
Pairing:Percy/Oliver/Stan
Rating:r-ish?
Summary: percy learns a few lessons about not always having to use words to communicate.
nichol likes: art, beauty, black, butterscotch, communication, cream, eyes, friends, frilly shirts, iced cakes, love, rain, stan shunpike, tight pants, words, your mother, zippers.
This had somehow gone very downhill, very quickly. All he had done was board the Knight Bus, to go back to his parents house. He thought he should apoligise for the last year, and traveling by Knight Bus gave him the most time to think of what to say.
But now he was on a bed that was sliding all over the floor, inside a purple bus, with a friend of seven years on one side, and a stranger standing near him.
They were both sexy. There was just no question about it. That’s why Percy was so screwed.
Oliver had strong shoulders, and strong thigh muscles from playing quidditch. He was wearing a pair of grey-blue pvc pants, and they were very tight. He was wearing one of those black wool sweaters he had worn throughout his Hogwarts days, which suited his hair.
And the conductor, he was just yummy. Percy had a bit of a neck fetish, and the man had a lot of neck. He also had the start of a scraggly beard, and Percy felt like reaching out and stroking his face.
But of course he couldn’t, it wouldn’t be proper. I mean, as much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t. it really wouldn’t be good if he did it…
“Excuse me, mister?”
Percy looked up. Oh god, his hand was on the man’s face.
“I am so sorry, Mr…”
“I’m Stan Shunpike. Erm, it’s ok. No need to be sorry. You actually have a very smooth hand.”
“Thank you.” Percy said absentmindedly, most of his brain concentrated in not bursting out of his pants as Stan’s adam’s apple flickered.
“Um, is there a bathroom on this bus?”
“Yes, on the third level.”
“Thank you.” Percy sprinted up the two sets of stairs, and locked the door of the bathroom. He unzipped the gold metal, and tugged the waistband down. Just as he was about to do what he needed to, he heard a “Alohomora!” called out, and the door handle creaked as it opened.
“Thought you might need help.” Oliver murmured.
“Help with what? With shitting?” normally Percy wouldn’t be so crude, but he really needed Oliver to go away. “Well, no thank you. I’m sure I can handle it by myself.”
Oliver moved a few feet, until he was standing right beside Percy. “Yes, well can you handle this by yourself?” he asked, grabbing at the redhead’s groin.
“I’ve managed for the last few years of my life.” he said, swallowing hard. For some reason, his pride wouldn’t give into his lust.
“Oh, come on. I saw you looking at me, I know you want me too. So I thought about you for a minute, and it’s nasty fucking in a bathroom, but nothing’s wrong with mutual wanking. So some on!”
Instead of speaking about the subject at hand, Percy arched his neck to give his ear more to the roof. “What’s that noise?”
“It’s raining. You can hear it bounce on the metal of the bus. But don’t change the subject. You know you want me to. Why can’t you just say yes?”
“because… because it’s wrong! What would your mother say if she knew you were doing this! What would my mother say! I somehow doubt they would like it!”
Oliver leaned in, and whispered “So…” then kissed Percy long and hard. It seemed like Oliver’s lips said ‘does it matter’ and Oliver’s teeth said ‘to hell with our mothers’ and his tongue said ‘it’s not wrong’ and the kiss itself was smart enough to go beyond words. That’s when Percy realised talking wasn’t the only way of communicating, and maybe he could go home, and kiss his apology into Molly’s cheek.
And then somehow Oliver was naked, and Percy’s pants were off, leaving only his ruffled shirt. And Oliver was undoing buttons, and running his hand down the v it made, shivering as the lacy ruffle that prevented it from undoing the whole way moved against his arm.
Oliver was doing all the work, he had always been a Ravenclaw in that way, so Percy was content with just looking at him. His skin was cream and milk mixed with a drop of coffee. His eyes were golden brown butterscotch like the icing mum used to put on his birthday cakes. His body was art, the slightly dangling open mouth was beauty, his hips were love. Oliver was simply… perfect.
As Oliver started to grab in places that made Percy squeal, a cough eminated from the door behind them. “Eleven Sickles for the use a my room. But for firteen you get strawberries, an’ for fifteen you get a condom an’ a dildo in the colour of your choice.”
Percy blushed from head to toe, as Oliver moved so he could see Stan Shunpike standing there. He blushed even fiercer when Oliver gestured to his erection and said, “Hey, this is all yours. It happened because of you, I was just filling the void.”
“I reckon ‘e could share.”
And all of a sudden, his back was pressed against a cold damp sink but his front pressed against muscle, and bones hardly covered with skin. He had millions of fingers on all the right areas, some thick and strong from Quidditch, some thin and veiny.
Seeing the way they were standing beside each other, and him, he realised body language was more then words also. He tried to pose for ‘ravish me’ and ‘yum’ and please god do that again’ and it worked out quite well.
Half an hour later, he stumbled off the bus properly debauched. He stuck notes on each of the bedroom doors; ‘I’m an idiot’ and ‘you’re a good mother’ belonged on the same door. on a much more scarred door went, ‘I thought the dung was a good idea’ and ‘good work with messing up that bitch’. ‘I’m sorry I abandoned you’ went on the youngest door. He was about to put a note on the last door, and heard the tandem snores, so he wrote another one. ‘I’m sorry for trying to control you by letters’ and ‘I shouldn’t have insinuated you were violent.’
Finally, he climbed the stairs to his old room, expecting ruins from the tempers of Fred and George, surprised when there wasn’t. he left a note on his door and pulled dusty sheets over his clothed body.
It said: I’m gay.
I lost my virginity in the Knight Bus on my way here.
I hate not being in control.
I hate being wrong, and attack people when I am.
I’m your brother, and your son. Do with me what you want.
Cause after all, sometimes words were necessary. Words were what Percy was used to, and he would try to work his body more often, but words were necessary too.