Title: Victory
Rating: R/M
Pairing: Oliver Wood/Percy Weasley
Summary: Percy likes it best when Oliver wins.
Warnings: Slash

---

Victory

---

Percy liked it best when Oliver won.

It might have sounded a bit pretentious or cruel, but it wasn't like that. Percy barely even understood Oliver's obsession with quidditch. Of course, Oliver really didn't understand Percy's passionate obsession with rules, so neither boy held it against the other. The point was, he wasn't about to start caring whether Oliver won or lost simply for the game.

No, Percy loved it best when Oliver won because of what happened after the game. When Oliver lost, he would rest his forehead against Percy's and sigh, and Percy would feel a bit like crying. Or Oliver would disappear altogether, not come back until late. When Percy asked quietly from his bed where the other boy had been he would snap, "Out," lay in his own bed for fifteen minutes, tops, and then get up, kneel next to Percy's bed and apologize, gazing at him with sad brown eyes.

When Oliver won, though, oh, when Oliver won.

Percy, who wasn't really one for quidditch, came out every Gryffindor game nonetheless and shouted and cheered himself hoarse for Oliver and Oliver alone. He would swell, feeling Oliver's excitement, at every small victory, or cringe simultaneously with the keeper at every blow. And when the game finally ended, Percy sometimes didn't even know because he had been too intent with Oliver to pay attention to the seeker.

When Oliver won, Percy would join the Gryffindors swarming on the field below, and Oliver would sweep him up into strong arms and laugh, kissing him breathless. The mass of dirty bodies around them rocking them together, the wild excitement mounting with every cry of victory.

While the team celebrated in the common room, Oliver would drag Percy into the dorm, ignoring the twins leers and catcalls. He would lock the door, throw Percy down on the bed, and literally rip Percy's clothes off. Running his calloused hands over his stomach, Percy pulling Oliver's clothes off more slowly and carefully. Oliver would kiss and lick every inch of him, paying special attention and love to his lips, gripping his hair as he caressed Percy's jaw line and nibbled at his ear, smiling, laughing, growling playfully all the time.

Percy would moan and writhe in pleasure beneath him, wrapping his arms around Oliver's neck as the other held him possessively.

Sighing gasps and soft giggling are soon the only sounds that fill the room.

The next morning, Percy and Oliver would skip breakfast for laying in each other's arms, sweet nothings and gentle teasing for conversation.

And that is what Percy loved it best when Oliver won.