Work Text:
Oliver took a deep breath when he entered the pitch facilities beneath the stands. The air was stale, filtering down as it did from beneath the stands. There were no windows. When fans came for games, their footsteps above were like a constant roar of thunder. But on practice days, it was more peaceful, and Oliver had missed everything during the break between seasons, even the facilities. Yes, seeing his parents was nice, but it wasn’t Quidditch. He’d been itching to get back on the pitch since their last game.
He headed straight for the changing room. On his way, he passed a number of familiar faces, both from the team and their management. He nodded to them but didn’t stop to talk. He was determined to get dressed and on his broom as fast as possible. He’d been flying around his own garden during the break, but it wasn’t the same. He needed to warm himself up before practice started.
Then he spotted someone familiar who wasn’t supposed to be there, and his footsteps faltered.
“Percy!?” he exclaimed in surprise. His eagerness to get to the changing room was all but forgotten as he stared at his old classmate.
Percy Weasley turned towards him with a sheepish smile and a half-hearted wave of his hand.
“Hi, Oliver.”
Oliver scrambled to come up with a possible explanation for Percy’s presence. Their practices were closed. No one from the public was allowed in except on special press days, lest their competition get ahold of their secrets. Sometimes representatives from the Department of Magical Sports showed up, but that was also always announced ahead of time, and last he heard, Percy had been working directly under the Minister.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, too stunned to worry if the question sounded rude.
Percy’s cheeks were the same light pink that Oliver remembered from whenever he was caught off guard. In their later Hogwarts years, Oliver had avoided using the bathroom whenever Percy was in because his face would turn a bright scarlet if they were in there together.
Oliver shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory. It had been something that he’d tried his best not to read into and to forget.
“I don’t work at the Ministry anymore. I quit,” Percy said, averting his gaze with the admission.
“Quit?” Oliver stared at him wide-eyed. “Working at the Ministry was your dream.”
It was something Percy had gone on about for years, just like Oliver had talked incessantly about Quidditch. Things had changed since Hogwarts apparently.
Percy hummed. “Yeah, it was. It just… I guess… I needed a change of routine. Puddlemere offering me a job was a surprise, but I thought it would be something new and interesting.” He hesitated. “Is that okay?”
Oliver blinked at him. “Why would it not be okay?”
Percy shrugged. He was doing an admirable job of looking just about anywhere except at Oliver. “You already work for the team, and I’ve kind of barged in—”
“Percy.” Oliver held up a hand to stop him. “Why would I care that you’re working for the team? If anything, this is great! We already know each other, so I can trust you to have my back if they want to trade me, right?”
He nudged Percy’s shoulder playfully, getting nervous stuttering in return as Percy figured out how to respond.
“Relax,” Oliver said. “I’m just kidding. I figure I’m safe for this season at least.”
Percy still looked a little lost, but he nodded.
For a second, they stood there in awkward silence. There was so much that Oliver could have said. He wanted to know how Percy had been since Hogwarts. Why had he suddenly quit the Ministry? Was he seeing anyone?
The thought of asking the last question made him blush. He’d made it through Hogwarts without revealing the extent of his feelings because it had never felt like the right time. Now, when Percy had just joined the team as a staff member, was definitely not the right time.
He cleared his throat. “I’d better go change,” he said, motioning to the changing room.
“Oh, right. Yeah.” Percy gave him a slight wave as he hurried off.
Before Percy had been hired, Oliver had mostly ignored management. They’d congratulate him after wins, and Oliver would negotiate with them when his contract was renewed, but for the most part, they were nothing but people that stayed in the background. Even when they were around, they might as well not have been as far as Oliver was concerned.
Percy, on the other hand, was everywhere. Oliver couldn’t escape him even if he tried. Logically, he knew that Percy wasn’t around more than any of the rest of the staff, something which was proven by the fact that another staff member was always with Percy whenever Oliver saw him. He was thankful for that. It meant they had an excuse not to talk.
It was ridiculous. Oliver had thought he’d left his silly Hogwarts crush behind, but with Percy back in his life, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, even when he was at home. Playing Quidditch was the one time he was able to clear his head, but as soon as he was back on the ground, he’d spot Percy in the stands and everything would come rushing back.
Thank Merlin he was able to keep his head clear during games. They were having an excellent season. His joke with Percy about securing a new contract through their connections would be entirely unnecessary. Oliver was very aware of his worth to the team. They won every game in the first half of the season, and it wasn’t all him, but having him around had certainly helped.
For the first several wins, Oliver turned down joining the team for their post-game celebrations. It wasn’t entirely unprecedented. He’d earned a reputation over his first several seasons for being a stickler for training. They’d win, and the next day he’d be back on the pitch. He couldn’t afford to be hungover. He’d loosened up a bit over time, but when he turned his teammates down, they still didn’t ask questions at first.
Oliver couldn’t tell them that he was avoiding Percy, who Oliver was surprised to see went along to the celebrations despite rowdy Quidditch players not usually being his company of choice.
It wasn’t until midway through the season that Oliver’s teammates wore him down. He agreed to go out, and he’d made short work of getting drunk, all while trying to ignore Percy sitting with a few other staff members several tables away.
The alcohol had been a stupid decision, but by the time he would have realised that, Oliver was too drunk for it to make a difference. He’d always had a loose tongue while drinking, but it wasn’t anything that had caused him trouble in the past aside from some slight embarrassment. The worst thing that had ever happened was Oliver admitting that he hadn’t dated in ages because he was too focused on Quidditch. The guys had teased him for a couple days and then dropped it.
They weren’t prepared for what drunk Oliver with a crush was like.
“It’s just so frustrating,” he slurred, staring down at the top of his beer. “He’s there all the time.”
He wasn’t paying attention to the volume of his voice, but thankfully, the pub was loud enough that it didn’t carry. The other guys still cast cautious glances in Percy’s direction. It hadn’t taken them long to decipher who Oliver was talking about. Oliver himself couldn’t stop glancing at Percy over his shoulder after all.
“Think you’ve had enough, mate.” Whittaker reached out to take Oliver’s drink from him, but Oliver snatched it away at the last second, sloshing beer over the edge of the cup in the process.
“I’m fine,” he swore, not aware of how not fine the words sounded. “I just wish Percy didn’t have to be here looking all perfect like always.”
He was too lost in his own ramblings to notice the guys’ eyes widen.
“”It’s not fair. I can’t—”
Smith aimed a hard kick at Oliver’s shin, making Oliver cry out in pain.
“What was that for?” he scowled, but Smith merely tilted his head forward, eyes focused on someone behind Oliver.
Oliver turned around to find a pink-faced Percy standing behind him. The once lively pub felt incredibly silent to Oliver in that moment. His whole table stared at the couple, waiting for them to do something, but Percy didn’t move, and Oliver couldn’t either. If he did, he swore he would vomit.
Finally, his panic pushed through everything else, and he pushed himself to his feet, hanging onto the edge of the table for a second as he got his balance.
“I have to go.” He didn’t even glance at his friends or his beer as he weaved his way through the tables.
He’d almost made it to the door when he heard Percy shout, “Wait!” over the noise in the pub, but Oliver didn’t wait. He couldn’t. Against better judgement, he Apparated from the pub.
Thankfully, the only consequence of Oliver violating Ministry Apparition laws was him vomiting all over his doorstep. Through the haze of drunkenness and shame, he even managed a cleaning spell before he pushed inside and stumbled to his bed.
He didn’t dare leave his flat the next day, but it wasn’t like he could avoid Percy forever. On Monday, he showed up at the pitch feeling even more nervous than he had on his first day.
Percy was leaning against a wall. There was no explanation except that he had been waiting for Oliver to arrive. Oliver’s stomach twisted, but he knew he couldn’t rush past without looking like a bigger fool.
“I’m sorry,” burst from his mouth before Percy could speak. Once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. “You never should have heard that on Saturday. No, that’s not right. I shouldn’t have said it at all. Merlin, you have no idea how much I wish it hadn’t happened.”
“Oliver,” Percy said, cutting him off in a remarkably calm voice. He was even smiling a little, and it was that more than anything that helped Oliver breathe again. “It’s okay,” Percy assured him. “I was surprised on Saturday, but I’m not angry.”
Oliver tilted his head to the side. “You’re not?”
“No, I, er…” He tugged on the collar of his shirt. “I’m actually happy to hear that you like me too.”
It took a second for Oliver’s brain to catch up. “Too?”
Percy gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I’ve had a crush on you since Hogwarts.”
Oliver’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t make sense of it. “You didn’t seem to care about anything other than studying at Hogwarts.”
Percy’s cheeks turned their familiar shade of pink. “I did care about studying a lot,” he admitted. “But it wasn’t the only thing I cared about. I just did a good job of hiding everything else.”
“Oh.”
The two men stared at each other. If there were other people milling about, then Oliver was completely oblivious to them. The only person he had eyes for was Percy. Percy, who was staring right back with a type of spark in his eyes that Oliver had never seen before.
“I checked the rule book,” Percy said. “I’m not your superior even though I’m on the management team. I don’t have any say in hiring decisions. There’s no rule against us being together.”
In any other circumstances, Oliver would have found it hilarious that Percy had looked into that first thing, but as it was, all he felt was relief.
“So,” he said, drawing out the ‘o.’ “If that’s the case, would you like to go out with me?”
Percy beamed at him. “I’d love to.”
Oliver was on a high as he landed on the ground. All around him, their fans were cheering. Their seeker was still doing victory laps, holding the snitch up for the crowd to see, and the rest of the team was following. Normally, Oliver would be right there with him, but at the moment, all he wanted was to get to the edge of the pitch.
There, sheltered under the shade of an overhang, was his boyfriend of six months beaming at him. Oliver hardly had time to look at the others standing beside them.
“Congratulations,” Percy said, beaming at him. He’d confessed to Oliver only a few weeks ago that Quidditch was actually interesting when Oliver was playing, though he did still fall asleep when Oliver made them listen to Quidditch matches on the radio.
“Thank you,” Oliver said before pulling him into a kiss.
Percy made a noise of surprise before sinking into it, the sounds of the crowd still surrounding them.