AWESOME and modest (izzybeth) wrote in percy_fans,
AWESOME and modest
izzybeth
percy_fans

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well, i got some laughs from this in my own LJ, so i think i'll foist it upon everyone here, too. (on the other hand, my friend-type people are used to me and my brain, so if you hate it, i'll understand.)

first of all, please make yourself familiar with the concept of this archive: http://www.dymphna.net/wakeupgay/

on saturday night at work, i remembered that archive and how funny it was, and then some satanic creature of the night grabbed my brain and made me write what's under the tag. please remember it's supposed to be funny. i laughed while writing it, anyway.


Percy Weasley woke up gay. It was bright and early on a lovely Tuesday morning. He lay in bed for a moment, listening to the birds sing. Such nice birds they were; he wondered why he didn't listen to them more often.

He threw his curtains open to greet the misty morning cityscape. The birds scattered. "Oops. Ah well. Best get dressed," Percy said to himself, noticing he was standing at his open window, utterly nude. He heard a catcall from down on the street. He smiled and waved, and made a quick search for his pajamas. "I'm sure I was wearing them when I went to bed," he muttered. He gave up and headed for the shower, finding and utilising facial scrubs, conditioners, and body wash potions he hadn't known he owned.

Percy jumped out of the shower, wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist, and opened his wardrobe. "All I own is black! This is ridiculous." He yanked out a black robe with a huff. "Well, it's Madam Malkin's after work, then." He dug through his drawers frantically. "Don't I own anything with color?" He managed to find a pair of sky blue socks and an old Gryffindor tie. "I suppose it'll have to do."

He pouted at his reflection as he knotted the tie. "You look smashing, dear," the mirror cooed. "Gives those black rags a bit of personality." Percy lost the pout and grinned. "Now off with you or you'll be late. You spent quite a while in the shower, dear."

Percy's pocketwatch chose that moment to give him a sharp nip. "Ouch, all right."

Unwilling to dirty his robes or come away smelling like fireplace, Percy chose to Apparate to the safe point closest to the Ministry, even though it was a bit of a walk.

Percy smiled at the guard, smiled at the fountain figures, smiled at the cafeteria witches as he grabbed tea and a cherry scone, and smiled at the people in the lift. They all looked at him as if he had grown an extra ear. On his forehead. Except the fountain figures.

"Mr. Weasley! You're late!" Fudge's secretary, Rose, jumped up from behind her desk. "Well-- you're not, really, it's ten to nine still-- but-- where have you been? The Minister's been frantic!" She looked Percy up and down. "Are you quite all right, Percy? You look a bit... perky."

"I'm wonderful, Rosie, I had an excellent night's rest and a refreshing shower this morning, and I plan to visit Madam Malkin's after work because don't you think all this black is quite dismal? By the way, you look just lovely today. That blue robe really brings out your eyes." Percy pecked Rose on the cheek and waltzed into the Minister's office, leaving the poor woman thoroughly astonished.

"Ah, Percy my lad, you're here finally, thank Merlin. It's going to be one bludger of a day. We've got to make a statement for the Prophet, and I absolutely must owl Dumbledore for advice--" Fudge swirled his robes importantly, turning to look at Percy. "Are you listening to me, Percy?"

Percy was perched on the edge of Fudge's desk, sipping and blowing lightly on his tea. "Oh-- yes, of course I was, sir... I just couldn't help thinking what a perfectly glorious day it is, and how unfortunate it is that the Ministry has to be underground. Wouldn't it be nice to write a few statements at the park?"

Fudge gaped for a moment. "Well-- yes-- This is hardly the time to be thinking about the weather! What with Vo-- Thingy on the loose!"

Percy rolled his eyes. "Voldemort," he enunciated. "It's hardly a frightening name, you know. Really rather camp." He hopped off the desk. "All right, didn't you say something about an owl to Dumbledore?" Percy skipped off to his tiny office for parchment, quills, and ink.

-------

After approximately one dozen owls and twice as many drafts of various statements, Percy insisted upon a short break ("You look like you're about to fall over, sir, and I could really do with a quick run 'round the halls, get the blood flowing and all").

While Fudge opened and closed his mouth like a gasping fish, Percy took a short jog down to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. He knocked and poked his head in. "Hello, Perkins, is dad around?"

Perkins blinked. "Er... er... hello Percy... no, Arthur hasn't been in today, he sent an owl this morning."

"Oh dear, do you think he's ill? May I borrow some parchment, I'll owl him immediately." Percy scratched away for a moment at his father's desk and tied the note to an owl's leg. "I do hope he's all right," Percy said as the owl flew off. "Well, I must be getting back, old Cornelius is in a right state today." The door slammed cheerfully behind him.

Perkins made a note on his calendar. "Today... Percy... Weasley... gone... insane."

-------

Percy spent the rest of the day with the Minister, giving him relaxing shoulder rubs and correcting his atrocious and panic-induced grammar. Owls arrived from Dumbledore, full of excellent advice and wise suggestions. As usual, Percy ended up writing the statements and press releases, but he noticed that he was much less tense and stressed out about it. He put it down to the birds he'd heard that morning.

At half three, Percy watched as Fudge signed a parchment with an ostentatious flourish, and then announced, "Well sir, I think we've done enough for today. I'm going to knock off early, I've got a date with a certain Madam Malkin." Fudge's jaw dropped. Percy laughed. "Oh, not really, you silly man! I'm just going to see about new robes. See you tomorrow, sir. Try to de-stress a bit, eh?"

Percy bounced out of Fudge's office, blew a kiss to the still-astounded Rose, and reached up to loosen his tie. It was already loose. And the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. "Well, how considerate of me."

Percy wandered down Diagon Alley, gazing at all the people and thinking how nice it looked with all the shops still open. He spied a small knot of pretty girls, which reminded him of Penelope. The completely brand new thought that dating her had been a waste of their time and they were better off without each other staggered him. He ducked into the Leaky Cauldron for a fortifying drink.

And slammed right into the Puddlemere United Quidditch team. One very large man, Beater obviously, eyed Percy and asked him what a pretty boy like him was doing in a place like the Leaky Cauldron.

"Right, back off, Buchanan, you're far too drunk to try and have it off with a decent-- Percy Weasley!" Oliver Wood shoved the Beater aside and trapped Percy in a strong, warm, really really pleasant hug. Percy hugged back instinctively. "How've you been, Perce, I haven't seen you since graduation!" Oliver leaned back and grinned into Percy's eyes, not quite letting go of him.

"I've been all right-- very busy-- I don't know, I woke up this morning and just felt happy, and I'm not sure I was before..." Percy shook his head. "Never mind that, how are you, you great lump? I've heard a few matches on the WWN..."

The two school friends got, at Percy's insistance, Firewhiskey instead of butterbeer, and sat at a table, catching up and reminiscing. If anything, Percy thought, Oliver had only gotten more handsome in the two years they hadn't seen each other. They downed a fair number of shots between them, joking and laughing like the old friends they were.

"Perce," Oliver drawled as he flung a muscled arm over Percy's thin shoulders, "you've changed. And I'm not complaining. This Ministry life must really agree with you. You're all..." Oliver waved a large hand expressively. "You know."

Percy leaned against Oliver's solid body. "I'm not sure it's the Ministry, mate. Yesterday I was as tense as you please, like a seventh year before N.E.W.T.s, and today I'm just relaxed and content and..."

"Gay?"

"I suppose you could say that. Perfectly happy, easy-going, willing to take things less seriously--"

Oliver halted Percy's stream of talk with one hand. "No, Percy. Gay. As in, gay." He leaned in and planted a firm kiss on Percy's mouth.

After a few very pleasant moments, Oliver pulled away. "Was, er, was that all right?"

Percy blinked. "Yes, Oliver, it was a bit more than 'all right.'" He smiled. "I just can't figure out how I could just wake up gay. Isn't one born with it or something? How does one just wake up gay?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I don't know, Perce." He shut his friend up with another kiss, this one more involved and including hands.

When they came up for air, Percy made the suggestion that they go back to his flat and see if he might possibly wake up gay tomorrow as well. Oliver found this idea most agreeable.

Madam Malkin's could wait.
Tags: fanfic, percy/oliver, slash
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