rareslash | [HP] "A Sound Method," Harry/Percy, NC-17

I kind of balked at posting this here, but Harry/Percy is really a rare pairing. No, seriously. You try finding some. :))

Title: A Sound Method
Author: Gin (ginandironic)
Pairing: Harry/Percy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: If he wanted to be honest, Percy was all he had been wanking off to since. Mostly in the shower every morning, hand fisting his cock roughly, the water belting him, shouting as he splattered come against the wall, Oh Fuck Yes Percy Percy Percy.
Notes: Unbetaed and not my favorite story at all. I have such a fondness for Harry/Percy but I can't seem to write their smut to satisfaction. Maybe sometime I'll add a sequel to this to show off their ridiculously mismatched attempts at relationship, but for now it stands as-is.

Also at skyehawke if it pleases to read there.

Percy Weasley was leaning over his desk to straighten a tray full of quills and standard pencils. The motion was so utterly Percy Weasley--anal-retentive to the point of straightening office supplies by hand instead of with a quick flick of his wand--that Harry laughed out loud.

Percy recognized the noise and his head whipped around, some red strands even coming loose from their careful gel and set. His arm made a hasty retreat and upturned his mid-morning coffee all over a stack of papers. "Oh!"

Harry cast Scourgify and the mess evaporated with a slight rustle of magic. "Hello, Percy," he said, smiling.

Percy had reason to be edgy around Harry; the last time they saw each other was at a Ministry party, during which Harry found out several things: Percy was a ridiculous easy drunk, Percy could not dance, and Percy was utter slut when you stuck a finger or two up his arse. Evidently a hangover hadn't fogged Percy's memory of the evening, as he was flushed redder than Ron after a Quidditch match. Harry watched as Percy adjusted his glasses, moved his coffee mug, and inspected a hardly creased edge of parchment.

"I'm not interrupting, I hope?"

"Er, as a matter of fact—"

"Good!" Harry took his hands out of his pockets and stripped off the leather gloves Kraigen got him for Christmas. The coach said it was ridiculous for his Seeker to walk around with unnecessarily calloused hands; ruined his grip, apparently. Without asking Harry took a seat in Percy's spare chair. Amazing he'd managed to fit more than a desk into his cell of an office, but then magic could do anything with space, couldn't it? "How've you been?" Harry asked, with far too much chipper geniality for someone of nineteen who spent his time around equally juvenile Quidditch players.

"I am fine," Percy answered, not wary but not to his usual standard of fussy breed of hubris either. His robes were off, which Harry found queer, and his starched white shirt was rolled up to his elbows.

"Doing some drudge work?"

"The Minister—"

Harry immediately lost any interest. "Right." He began unwinding the long oatmeal scarf Hermione bought him (also at Christmas) from around his neck and stuffed it carelessly into a pocket of his winter robe. "Busy as always, then."

"It's to be expected. There's a lot of illness after the New Year—" although they both knew it was rubbish, things were always slow to run at the Ministry after hols; no one wanted to do shit but sit around, play the Wireless and read the Prophet "—and we're swimming in paperwork. They have been sending over reports from the Department of Interrelations, and I told the Minister I'm not qualified to do the work but he's confident in my abilities." He stopped and pursed his lips, evidently out of steam. Harry had been nodding along every once in a while and stayed silent even as Percy looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Potter, may I ask why you're here?"

"I had a meet with some mates at a pub in London," Harry explained.

Percy shook his head, lips pulled white against his teeth, and more strands broke free of his gel. "I meant," he pronounces, "at the Ministry."

"Oh," Harry said, not sounding at all like he misunderstood in the first place. "Right. Er, well, I thought I would come and see if you ever Apparated home in one piece." He wasn't quite out of Hogwarts' asexual world long enough to pull of a smirk or a wink, but the insinuation was still there.

And it turned Percy red again, as expected. "Someone from my division was kind enough to Floo me home."

"I'm glad. Ron found me staggering about in the hall and let me crash at his flat." Percy's sniff let Harry know exactly what he thought of Ron's bachelor flat. He hadn't been there, per se, and also didn't know Hermione slept over weekends wouldn't stand for mess, but he could easily imagine the kind of squalor any simpleton Quidditch player would live in. "When I woke up the next morning, er. I wondered how you… ended up," he finished lamely. Any smugness left over from surprising him into spilling his coffee was now dead under the weight of Percy's level and aloof stare. Harry was reduced to trying not to squirm in Percy's chair, and the thing was uncomfortable to start with.

"I ended up fine, no thanks to you." The end of it he muttered resentfully and it made Harry laugh. "What? I was inebriated, hardly able to function—"

"So was I," Harry reminded him a tad huffily.

"—And you just left me in a heap, all sticky, and sore, and." He shut up abruptly, using his index finger to push his glasses violently up the bridge of his nose.

"I was going to find my wand!" Harry objected, finding to his horror and amusement he had the similar habit of fiddling with his glasses when uncomfortable.

"It was in your pocket," Percy snapped.

"Well, I know that now. Look, Percy, I didn't mean to leave you like that. Merlin knows that's not the sort of treatment I usually give blokes… Er!" Harry blushed furiously, realising how thick he sounded. And was. Bringing up other blokes, honestly.

Percy was flushing again, and looking horrified on top of it. He gestured mutely, looking like a frazzled bird, its wings outstretched and flapping furiously. "Other—other blokes, you say? You've done that with other blokes?"

Harry stared at him. "Well, yeah. It's generally what us toffs do, you know."

"Toffs? Like a queer? Oh, dear Merlin. That's horrible!"

He seemed less offended to have slept with a man than realizing said man was a homosexual, which Harry found simply bizarre. And said as much. "What the shite are you talking about, Weasley? In case you missed something, you were shagging me, and I'm a bloke, so by all accounts you're—"

"I. Am. Not. A. Homosexual." Percy said through gritted teeth. "That was… that was… a fluke! I was drunk! I was coerced, it wasn't…"

Harry floundered for words. Sure enough there had been a few guys on the team who thought it wasn't that "queer stuff" if you tossed one off with your mates ("doesn't count if you don't touch their come" and "doesn't count if he's sucking you" were the two most common rationale, to Harry's bewilderment), but he'd never shagged someone and then had to deal with their contesting homosexuality afterwards. "I was drunk too, you pillock! And you begge—"

"I did no such thing," Percy shouted. Shouted. If Harry hadn't been sitting he might have fallen or taken a few startled steps back. "It was a foolish one-off, Potter, brought on by Firewhiskey and unfortunate circumstances." He was collecting himself now, color fading from his face until it left him blanched white with freckles in stark relief, eyes narrowed and glossy with anger behind his thick glasses. "Wherever your predilections may lie, rest assured I do not share them." Taking a deep breath, Percy seated himself with alarming primness for someone so recently close to exploding. "I am sorry," he added as a mechanical afterthought, "for shouting."

Harry's eyes were wide. Two angry spots of red set high on his cheekbones, a contrast to the earlier all-over blush. He stared at Percy with almost as much intensity as the stupid little bugger did. "You're not a pouf, Percy?" The tone was meant to come out challenging, a taunt, but he was so stunned and pissed the words fell flat.

Percy shook his head. "No." He appeared to consider his next words carefully before speaking them. "I am dating someone at present."

"Why wasn't she at the party, then?" Harry pressed.

"She doesn't go to parties."

"What the fuck do you do with her? Do you sit around and… and… glory in your perfect heterosexualness?"

Percy frowned, whether at Harry's jibe or the improper syntax it wasn't clear. He actually delayed his answer, crossing his legs and clasping his long-fingered hands over his lap. The wool of his trouser leg rode up with the change and Harry could see the outline of a delicate anklebone through Percy's gray sock. He noticed Harry's eyes on him but was too pompous to be sidetracked now. "No. We do not do that."

Harry hissed so furiously it was nearly in Parseltongue. "You're such an annoying little shite." His eyes settled on the turned bow of Percy's scowling lips, remembering heatedly what it looked like when they opened in a gasp and that sneering little dimple at his cheek disappeared completely. "Fuck you."

Percy seemed to be expecting that. He cocked his head and condescended to start another monosyllabic telling off. "It is not—"

It was quickly becoming habit to interrupt when Percy started in with his 'it's-not-queer-if-you-otherwise-shag-girls-and-were-drunk-at-the-time-supposedly' refrain. "Some of the blokes I shag--you know, the real poufs--they can't take it as well as you did, Percy."

Percy made a noise like the Ministry announced mandatory Casual Fridays. A muscle on his smooth forearm twitched as he clenched his twined fingers.

Harry considered turning around and leaving, maybe going to see Arthur on his floor. From the way Percy was staring at him, mouth dropped open and eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, it was obvious he wouldn't get out of there without doing or saying something he'd regret tremendously later. He licked his lips, they were dry, and kept staring at Percy until he could make himself get up and walk out with his pouf tail between his legs, or until another option presented itself. Which wasn't likely; he was more apt to sit there speechless and staring until Percy had to go home before the man would deign to acknowledge the vulgarity with words.

Gridlock. He instantly thought of Ron and chess, and how once when he and Hermione played they ended up stuck in a corner with no moves. Ron said later he just had to sacrifice a Knight for the sake of advancement and hope Hermione didn't cotton on to his new, spur-of-the-moment plan.

Ron won that round.

Harry hoped it was a sound method.

"So," he started, clearly startling Percy out of some sort of a stupor. "Have you ever done it in this office?" Percy started to sputter. "With your girlfriend, I mean." He managed a desultory smirk.

"I never would do such a thing."

Harry's sneer, now fuelled with something other than impulse, rivaled Malfoy's finest but wasn't quite up to Snape standard. "Of course not. Perfect Prefect Percy and all, Head Boy, Minister's fucking pet. I bet you were a virgin when you graduated."

The look Percy gave him was scandalized. "That is none of your business, Potter." He finally uncrossed his legs, hands moving simultaneously to grip at either arm of his wooden desk chair. Harry noted his nails were cut to the quick and they probably wouldn't leave impressions in the chair, despite how tightly they currently dug into it.

"Well, I'm making it my business." The man had absolutely no right to be that good of a shag and snub him like he was doing now. Harry looked pointedly at Percy's now visible lap. "And I think your dick's not as opposed to the idea as you thought."

Percy's adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow. His eyes flitted around the room, frantically looking for something conciliatory to land on. "I—"

"What d'you say, Percy?" Even as he spoke, Harry's hand smoothly searched for his wand, covered at his side. Once his fingers wrapped around it he flicked it once and Percy's door bolted shut. "Will Silencing Wards work in here?"

From Percy's vantage it was kind of obvious how hard Harry was becoming, a striking bulge through layers of pants, trouser, and robes. He shucked the latter and let it drop behind him on the chair, nearly cursing when his hands fumbled with the clasp.

Once everything was in order Harry looked back at Percy, whose mouth was hanging open again. The customary horn-rimmed glasses made him look especially owlish as he gaped.

He dropped to his knees quite suddenly, trying not to wince at the sharp impact on his shins. The office was so tiny Harry only crawled half a pace, cutting the embarrassing top-heavy wobbles to a minimum. He was at Percy's knees now, and after tucking away his wand again, he slid both of his palms up Percy's thighs. Just before he reached the juncture of his groin he pushed them apart as far as they would go in the confining chair, angled now to stare directly at what Percy was doubtless fervently denying. In his head.

Several moments were spent just kneading Percy's slim thighs through the scratchy wool slacks, using his thumbs to rub in broad sweeps. Percy made a sound Harry almost didn't hear and he smiled, adjusting himself between Percy's spread legs so it might be more comfortable for both of them.

"You were hard before I touched you, Percy."

"Ummm." Something flashed in Percy's eyes but was quickly quelled when Harry deliberately ran his fingers too close to his trapped cock.

"Fuck, you're hot like this," Harry continued, not out of any deep love for verbiage during sex but for what it did to Percy's breathing, his eyes, his heartbeat. And when Harry managed a few phrases during their drunken escaped, Percy moaned and thrust back and begged for his cock. He was a writhing little tart when you got him naked and drunk. Hopefully just naked, though. "You want me to suck your cock?"

They hadn't done that. There wasn't time; it was all about rubbing Percy through his trousers and yanking them off when he started to pant, using his fingers quickly so he might get in him faster, but discovering how loudly Percy moaned with three scissoring inside.

Percy blinked stupidly and slowly, rolled his head to the side, and bit his lip. "Yes," he agreed shakily, slouching down in his chair for Harry's benefit, which surprised them both. "Suck me." A tiny, little boy whisper, and if Percy hadn't already been flushing Harry was sure his cheeks would have been marked with color.

"Hmm." He grinned as he pulled down Percy's zip, the hot scrape loud so close to his head. "You want the pouf to suck you off?" He intended to more than that, of course, but without the loss of inhibitions alcohol afforded him last time, small steps were best. "Lift up your hips," Harry ordered, not content to simply stick his hand in there and yank Percy's cock out to suck. It looked stupid to him surrounded by clothes, surreal and not at all a turn on. Percy obliged and Harry wriggled the hideous wool trousers down his hips, followed by sensible navy pants that caught on Percy's cock as they came down and made Percy suck in a breath. In the midst of all the squirming, Percy's calf knocked Harry's cock exquisitely. Harry choked and had to pause for a moment.

Harry grasped Percy's hips and guided him into a position he could easily manage, balanced on the edge of the wooden chair. Percy's thighs were trembling as Harry gripped the base of his cock, other hand's index and middle finger spreading the precome collected at the tip.

Percy had a nice cock, Harry saw now that he was sober enough to appreciate it. Light red pubic hair, so manicured Harry would have suspected a trimming spell if the twins and Ron hadn't had the same type. Maybe seven and a half inches and uncircumcised, head perfectly shaped and the most responsive part, as he already knew. He played with it for a moment, not even watching Percy's face throughout, smoothing his other hand upwards and then down in motions a little jerky without lube.

When he licked off the precome still shining on his fingers, Percy groaned. Harry shook his head in something like amusement and reached for his wand, not about to get any manner of semen on it.

This time Harry wasn't stupid enough to use spit and tried to keep down a smirk as Percy screeched and lifted his hips in shock. To Harry's everlasting smugness, the noise quickly turned into a sigh. The git fucking loved it; he could hardly pretend otherwise with the knowledge of what they'd gotten up to sloshed at the party bearing down on them. The moment Harry had brushed his fingers against Percy's hole that night, he started keening. He hoped to replicate the experience and ultimately decided Silencing Wards were a good idea after all.

"Silencio," he rasped, discarding the wand once and for all on the floor next to his feet.

Percy stared down at him with rapidly blinking eyes, mouth firmly closed. His chest heaved and hitched up his stomach some, showing off a stomach nice enough for someone who wasn't athletic. Harry ran his palm up the exposed skin of Percy's sternum, fingers slipping under his white shirt until he found a nipple and toyed with it.

With the way he was leaning, Percy's leg was rubbing straight on his cock. Accordingly Harry rocked against it with small thrusts of his hips. The tart smelling lubrication charm he'd cast earlier caught his nose, and all of it was a heady combination but he wanted more, wanted Percy to sink back into the properly shameless state of arousal he'd been at weeks previous.

If he wanted to be honest, Percy was all he had been wanking off to since. Mostly in the shower every morning, hand fisting his cock roughly, the water belting him, shouting as he splattered come against the wall, Oh Fuck Yes Percy Percy Percy. Unnatural, truly, to fixate on the self-important fuck when it was plain how much denial he was in about the whole thing, when Harry tried to talk to him about it. Three weeks of pathetic constant wanking eventually fed him up to the point where he strode in and insisted---what? That Percy allow himself to be fucked again? His plan had trailed off into fuzzy ambiguity after the "see Percy again, that sod," but Harry liked the way this was going.

To prove it he slipped onto his knees and cupped Percy's balls with the hand formerly fiddling with the nipple. He rolled them between his fingers, faster and faster until Percy spread his legs further and thrust upwards, unwittingly exposed himself, and that was… Well. Harry rewarded him for the display with a doting suck at the top of Percy's cock, wriggling his tongue against the slit. More bitter precome coated it and he swallowed, savoring the high noises Percy made in his throat.

Percy wasn't talking yet, which was what Harry was trying for. Trying a different tack he licked in one long go to the base of his dick, licking back up when Percy moaned, and then sucked the tip into his mouth. Mindful of teeth, he started sucking and squeezing around the base of Percy's cock at the same time. A clever idea struck him; too frazzled to cast a spell, and otherwise engaged anyway, he slipped two fingers to Percy's cleft and swiped up a good amount of the skin-warmed lube there.

Percy whined and garbled "ohfuckmmm."

Smiling around Percy's cock, which Harry knew from experience was annoying, he wrapped his oily fingers around the base again, covering what he could with the lube. Percy's breath caught and he stilled suddenly; Harry waited for whatever was to come next, whether it was to be shock and realization or enjoyment. And then Percy's hips shifted downwards and he started pumping into Harry's mouth. Harry had to adjust his hand and speed up the jerking to keep up. Nothing could stop the trill coursing through him – he had Percy exactly where he wanted him, panting and hard underneath his tongue.

"Oh yes." Upon glancing up Harry saw Percy's head thrown back, his glasses titled oddly on his face, more strands of red hair curling free of gel. "Po--H-Harry!"

He surged forward and took more of Percy's cock into his mouth until he could taste the lube at the front of his tongue. Percy thrust forward eagerly and the tip of his cock bottomed out too far in the back of Harry's throat, causing him to gag. He pulled back and nipped reprovingly, which only prompted a growl and a restless shift of Percy's thighs.

It didn't take long to silently establish what exactly Harry would and wouldn't do: he wouldn't deepthroat by any means, wouldn't let Percy thrust beyond shallow, even strokes, and wouldn't suck long and hard enough for Percy to come. Percy whined and grunted and kept clasping the arms of his chair, still staring at the ceiling. Harry wanted him to look. The hand jacking him crept steadily towards Percy's arse whilst Harry pulled further away, forcing Percy to slide down the chair some. It left him spread open just enough for…

"Fuck!"

Percy clenched snug around Harry's finger. He quirked it and then slid it out, millimeter by prolonged millimeter. "You like that?" Harry asked, releasing Percy's cock with a loud pop.

"More."

Without caveat Harry shoved in two fingers, noting how well the lubrication spell worked; aside from the rigid muscle there was no difficulty. Percy's hole was slick and tight, welcoming around his quirking digits. Gasping, ragged whimpers hit Harry's ears and he smiled with some amount of satisfaction, starting to fuck with earnest. In, out, in, in deeper, pushing and stretching, every movement punctuated with a noise from above.

"Oh." Percy trilled, mewled like a cat, made noises curious for a human that caught in his throat and ripped out violently from his lips. Harry really liked this part and reckoned it was better than the first time, since there wasn't the foggy veil of liquor clouding his brain and senses. The lack of it also meant Percy would have a hell of a time denying what went on and his partaking in it.

"Percy," Harry began with a gravelly voice, twisting his fingers in such a way that it strained his knuckles, "get out of the chair."

The instructions must have been baffling. Percy's eyes popped open and he stared down, mystified, and Harry kept the fingers working inside of him. He even added another for a moment or so, feeling a stretch and struggle against the intrusion, but Percy's body yielded as he knew it would. He didn't even seem fazed, which was a good sign.

"Percy," Harry tried again, while his fingers slid in and out. And in. "Did you hear me?"

"Er. You want me to…"

"Get out of the chair. Stand up and lean over your desk." Finally he pulled out. Nearly at eye level with Percy's crotch, Harry had only to glance down to see the hole, stretched some, shining with lube and winking with the sudden removal of Harry's fingers. It looked incredible especially when paired with the erection bobbing by his face and the labored breathing from above.

Harry backed away so Percy could follow his instructions. The jostling around on his knees hurt even more than before, so he pulled himself to his feet. Percy watched him, also standing now, and looked not a little strange with his pants around his feet and his cock sticking straight out while Harry was fully clothed. Seeming aware of this, Percy turned until his body was in profile, but didn't lean over the desk like Harry asked.

"Brace your hands on the desk," Harry instructed quietly. The odds of Percy not going along with him were high and they both knew it. But then Percy turned, silently assuming the position, and Harry took a second to admire the view. "Spread your legs further apart."

Percy did as he was told. A thrill ran through Harry at the submission, knowing neediness underscored and probably singularly motivated it. Still, Percy couldn't scream coercion now, not after all he'd let happen. Harry decided to reward the progress and dropped to his knees again, using the nearby chair for support. His thumbs went up to part Percy's arse and a quick swipe of Harry's tongue across puckered, constricting skin nearly gave Percy a fit. He yelped and leaned against the desk, cock no doubt chafing against it in that agonizingly pleasurable way. Harry wriggled his tongue just inside and Percy cried out, hands fitfully crumpling papers on his desk. He moved his arse back towards Harry's probing, grunting when Harry dipped his head lower and sucked one of his bullocks into his mouth, teeth grazing harmlessly.

"Oh, fuck me."

Harry didn't need to be told twice, though it was doubtful Percy even realized what he'd said. Standing required using the chair for leverage again, and he made quick work of his trousers and pants. There was no thought for getting off his shirt or removing anything else, just focus on his cock. The lube he slicked around it felt so good Harry almost gave in and jerked himself for a while, standing there behind Percy, who was eager and pushing back in a demanding sort of way. Percy's arse brushed against his dripping tip and Harry forgot about his paltry hand, lining up with the tight entry.

Sliding it in was no bother--he only needed to remember to take it slow. Percy wasn't as prepared as he might have been but that was all right by both. Harry greedily looked down and watched his cock disappearing into Percy, the breaching so snug and intense. He could feel the muscles clamping around him. Percy's head was forward, chin nearly touching his chest, fingers grappling across sleek wood and formerly neat papers. An ink well knocked over but Percy of course bought them spelled not to leak.

"Is that good, Percy?" Harry asked. He was firmly embedded, balls-deep and staying still until he got what he wanted. Everything he fucking wanted. Nothing else would do. "Do you like getting fucked?" Dirty talk wasn't his forte and Harry did feel stupid, but Percy seemed as if he loved it and rocked back onto the cock buried inside of him.

"Fuck... Yes. Oh God. Please. Do it."

He pulled out some, fingers holding tightly onto Percy's bare hip, and slammed back in. The motion knocked both of them forward, Percy into the desk, who groaned in some amount of pain. Harry waited while Percy adjusted. He liked it hard but didn't want to be pulling splinters out of Percy's cock and thighs later.

"You all right?" Harry asked. Percy straightened out. Harry was close enough to smell the hair gel Percy used.

"I'm fine." He squirmed. "Could you… move?"

He moved. The thrust was protracted and deliberate, slow. Percy sighed. Harry moved again, at the same time placing the hand on Percy's hip to his cock. His fist pulled a few customary tugs in the limited space, knuckles nearly scraping the desk. Somewhere in the fine-tuning they found a rhythm, a system. Percy arched, back flexing, in time to every drive of Harry's hips. Harry licked and kissed Percy's neck when he could reach it, biting when that proved to be a success. It was rudimentary and a little slow yet everything Harry wanted for weeks. Possibly longer. Percy was tight and hot and he moaned the way Harry liked.

"I'm going… I'm going to…"

Harry jacked harder and harder, pumping his hips as Percy yelled and his arse clenched in a series of oh my fucking god spasms, hard and too fast and designed to torment him into coming. Harry's hand was wet, Percy's stomach even wetter, the desk victim to a few splashes, and Harry drew Percy upright when he shot, stifling crazed moans against a freckled shoulder blade.

Panting, Harry let go of Percy and pulled out. Percy stayed braced against the desk, trying to control his own breathing. Harry didn't leave him sticky this time, in fact cleaned him first, and Percy murmured what might have been thanks.

Later, when Percy shakily climbed back into his clothes and Harry, who didn't have a sexual crisis to deal with, retrieved his scarf and casually started speaking. "I was thinking about dinner. Seeing as we did this all… er, backwards?"

"What?" Percy's voice was soft, hoarse, shaken. The few words he'd said since moaning his release were the same.

He didn't know why, but something made Harry desperately want to kiss him. Percy's eyebrows were drawn together, his lips red, his eyes fearful. He looked like a little boy and the thought was disturbing, considering the sex. He looked like he needed to be kissed, or maybe that was what Harry needed to tell himself in order to do it. He gently wrapped an arm around Percy's waist and tried to tug him into some sort of an embrace, but Percy was stiff and uncomfortable. Harry kissed the side of his mouth and was relieved when Percy allowed him. "Dinner," he repeated. "All right?"

"I…"

"We can do this again," Harry blurted. Nothing of his former confidence and sarcasm remained. He shifted from foot to foot. Percy noticed his trainers were worn, curious for a rich Quidditch star. "As much as you like. If you like."

Percy didn't answer. He didn't say no, either.

-- FIN