Micky x Percy (Butterkins) Fan Fiction
Secret Santa was: @thatrosewoodwriter
Fic Summary: Taking place after the events of Princess in Practice, this fan fiction is an imagining of Micky and Percy and what they did next.
Thank you @rwchsecretsanta for organising the whole thing.
I’m sorry it’s so long xjsjsje I got pretty carried away.
Note for @thatrosewoodwriter
Hey Charley. I was your Secret Santa, sneaky me. You might have already guessed that because I think I was pretty bad at hiding it. Anyway, I was very happy when I found out I got you, we were already friends (and continuing to develop our friendship) but I was delighted. You’re a great friend that I love talking to, and you never seem to run out of interesting stories to talk about. You are also very talented, with singing, writing, making art etc, and it blows me away. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic. Even though I don’t usually really write, I tried my best. As I said, I am very happy that I got you and I hope you like it.
Nine in the morning, before breakfast, Percy was walking in the Tompkins Gardens in a dark blue bath robe, under the vivid pastel blue sky.
Percy had always adored the gardens - wise like several football pitches put together.
Plants and flowers of extreme beauty and colours, rosy pink, glowing blue, fluorescent greens surrounding him, nature at its best, beautiful and bright. He walked on the smooth gray stone pavement, his hands in his pockets, on his left side a bush wall with different coloured flowers.
In the middle of the gardens, was a big fountain, at the centrepiece of it, a white statue of Aphrodite, the greek Goddess of love, a paper white life size statue, her hair tied back and a warm smile on her face, wearing a white robe.
Percy slowly walked his way to the very front, occasionally bending down to sniff the flowers and admiring the beauty as he walked.
Last night he hadn’t got much sleep, he admitted to himself, and he felt his energy draining as he walked.
He remembered looking around his room in the Tompkins Manor, pastel blue walls painting ironic melancholy as the walls felt like they choked him. Restlessness consumed him, and dark thoughts had wormed their malicious control into Percy’s brain daily. The thoughts came to him abruptly and without control, even though Percy did his best to suppress them.
Leviathan have the Hamelin formula.
Your own father sold you out for Leviathan.
Percy physically cringed as those memories came coursing through his mind again. He shook his head, as if to literally shake the memories away.
He turned his head and saw a figure emerge from the back doors.
Micky Tompkins, his best friend.
His light blonde hair was messy, not brushed properly, and it looked annoyingly good on him, and it made Percy want to ruffle his hair. As he ran closer to Percy, he couldn’t help notice that his ocean blue eyes sparkled today. He wore a white fluffy bathing robe. Only Micky could look good in a white bathing robe, Percy thought bitterly.
“Micky,” Percy scanned him, smiling. “Hi. Walk with me?”
Micky smiled back. “Of course.”
They walked side by side in the heat, Percy on Micky’s left as a cool breeze found it’s way down his spine. Micky suddenly felt his palms build up with sweat, and he shook his hands quickly and clenched his fists, praying Percy didn’t see anything.
This wasn’t exactly ideal, as recently, Micky had fallen more and more in love with Percy, and he prioritised looking good in front of him nowadays.
Everything Percy did, Micky couldn’t stop admiring.
His smile. His hair, that he loved to ruffle. His personality. How he held himself. He’d become more and more in love by everything he did. It was almost worrying.
Even that black bath robe he was wearing, that accentuated the black circles around his eyes, that made him look like a panda, as his eyes were sunken and his skin was pale white. Micky let out a quiet laugh.
Percy didn’t seem to notice this, he stopped walking and fell back. He went on his tiptoes, pulling a red rose lower and smelled it.
His jawline. The way he crinkled his nose. The way he closed his eyes.
Percy went down to his feet again and let go of the flower, his smile fading slowly again. He wore a withdrawn expression as they walked, looking down occasionally and chewing his lip. Micky’s heart beat quickly. What was wrong?
“Are you alright?” asked Micky.
Percy looked at him, and slowly signed, “Tired. Just a bit tired.” He gave a small smile as if to show this.
Though Micky senses there was more to the story, than “just a bit tired.”
Micky’s face swiftly morphed into a mask of worry, his heart aching seeing Percy like this. “I don’t think that’s all.”
Percy ignored this, and continued walking.
“I think I know what it’s about. What... happened. And, you can talk about it, if you want. I don’t mind,” he offered an encouraging smile, hoping that hid his anxiousness.
Percy chewed his lip again as they walked. They reached the end of the garden now, facing a large bush wall where rows and rows of different flowers popped out, and the two turned to face each other.
“Alright,” signed Percy, his eyes burning. “I will. I just...” he coughed. “I’m still angry. My world is still loose at the seams, threatening to tear at any minute. I’m still getting over the shock, and I still have to accept-“ Percy put his hands down, and clasped them to his sides.
Micky nodded as Percy’s face tightened, but he continued. “I still have to accept what he did.” Percy didn’t need to specify who he was. His father. “It feels like everything I’ve ever known has broken, shattered in front of me. Like I can’t trust anyone. And it will be a long time I get over it, I guess. But for now? I’m still lost.”
He walked slowly toward the wall at the end, his hand scraping through the bush delicately, as a dark melancholy overwhelmed the air.
“I’m sorry,” Micky signed, though the action felt useless, numb, and his throat felt dry.
Micky sighed. He desperately wanted to wrap Percy up and to hide him, protect him from his own inner demons and from the horrors of the world.
If only it worked like that.
“None of this is your fault,” Micky signed desperately. “It’s completely understandable to feel like this.”
Percy looked at him again, raising an eyebrow. Micky mentally wished he was better at advice. The whole fiasco had only happened days ago. And, here Percy was, vulnerable for the first time that Micky could really see, and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t magically take the burden off his shoulders. There was nowhere they could both just go and hide in. He wasn’t a knight in shining armour, ready to protect him. He was just Micky.
“And, I’m here for you,” continued Micky eventually. “You can always talk to me. I’ll be here for you. And I will help you. I promise.”
Percy walked away from the wall and towards him again, with a blank facial expression. Micky gulped but he continued. “Whatever you need me to do. To be there for you so you can talk it out. To distract you. To buy you Butterkist popcorn.... anything. Because, what has happened... you didn’t deserve it to happen to you. And I will keep helping you until you’re happy again. Me and Lola will help you to the very end.” He attempted a smile.
There was a long pause. Percy eventually smiled back, and Micky exhaled, relieved.
“Thank you,” signed Percy. “I appreciate that. I’m glad you can help me,” he paused. “And I’m glad I can be honest with you. So I will continue to be honest with you, too.”
Micky nodded in response.
“I’m not sure it’s that easy...” signed Percy, his facial expression hardening, though Micky could see the vulnerability etched in his eyes.
Percy fiddled with his bathrobe belt, before continuing to sign again. “This memory. I will get better, but never the same as I once was,” he rubbed his eyes. “And I’m trying to be happy, I really am,” he blinked quickly. Micky could almost swear he saw tears building up. Micky leaned closer and held his shoulders, as Percy sighed, his hands shaking. “And I’ll try harder. For you. But it’s difficult, because I wish things were just like how they were before-“ and before he could attempt to sign anything else, Percy’s face was leaning against his shoulder, breathing heavily, his hands moving its way onto his shoulders.
Micky hugged him, placing his hands on his back. He didn’t dare move, his heart aching for his best friend.
It was a while before Percy lifted his face again, and looked at him head on.
He had stopped crying, although fresh tears were still on his cheeks. Percy held his breath and stepped back a little.
“I’m sorry,” he signed, avoiding eye contact.
“No, it’s okay,” Micky signed. There was a pause before he continued. “Life might not go back to how it was. But things will get better from now. Things will improve. This is just a setback. I promise things will get better. But for now, you just need a distraction.
Percy exhaled again before laughing bitterly. “Then distract me,” he grinned, as if he was challenging him.
Micky wiped the tears off Percy’s face with his thumb, as he leaned closer. He stepped back again, but only to look at Percy right in the eyes, to take a deep breath, and sign “challenge accepted.”
And suddenly Micky was kissing him.
Percy’s eyes widened as he felt his hands tremble, Micky kissing him softly, curiously. Percy placed his hands on his shoulders carefully. Micky gripped Percy’s bath robe belt and pulled him closer, as they both closed their eyes.
And suddenly, energy coursed through his body, through his veins. His heart beat against his rib cage furiously, and he thought it was going to shoot out at any given moment.
He forget everything: Leviathan, Hamelin Formula, even his father, as they kissed, and Percy felt like he was floating.
Until a fresh wave of horror set over him.
He opened his eyes and abruptly stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” he signed quickly, his eyes big and his mouth wide open, as he ran off, back into the house, leaving Micky in the garden.
Michael Tompkins, you are worse than a stickless lollipop.
Micky wore a permanent expression of horror as he lay in his cold bed. It was night now, 10pm, and he wished the ground would just swallow him up whole.
For the whole day, he had ignored what he had done, ignored Percy, ignored Lola, stayed in his room, and when he ever had to go out, he had lurked the house like a silent ghost. He acted like he hadn’t done nor remembered anything.
But he remembered what he had done alright.
He remembered a kiss, his lips against Percy’s, as soft and light as a feather.
Why did he do that? Why? Why? Why?
One minute, he’s trying to help his best friend, give him advice. Percy had been washed completely by the numbness of misery, of agony, of a sadness he could barely comprehend, inner demons constantly gnawing at his mind with no mercy.
The next minute, he was kissing him, as if nothing else mattered.
And under the guise that he was distracting Percy, instead of genuinely doing something that would help him, acting on his own selfish desires.
Yet worst of all, he still enjoyed it. Enjoyed kissing him.
He remembered the gentleness, the affection of it leaving him breathless and almost knocking him off his feet, making him feel like he was floating.
The way his body felt so light he thought he was going to melt.
He rubbed his hands over his face in shame, groaning.
You’ve ruined everything, Micky. Why did you have to kiss him?
But then, he sat up suddenly. An idea brewed in the corners of his mind.
But you can fix this... maybe?
He got up from his bed speedily and sat down at his desk and scrambled for a pen and paper, hurriedly opening drawers. He eventually found some lined paper under his books, and quickly grabbing a pen, he wrote rapidly.
Meet me in the gardens, nine in the morning. I will explain myself.
He was going to apologise. It was selfish of him, to do something so problematic, and he planned on dismissing the kiss and saying it meant nothing.
Since Percy clearly didn’t like him back, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
All you can do is help him, he thought to himself, hovering behind Percy’s door and pushing the note underneath it, taking deep breaths, his heart breaking slightly.
Even though the sticky air was hot and humid, a cold chill went up Percy’s spine as he stood at the front of the garden, looking around nervously at the harmony of flowers.
He wrapped his arms around himself, not because it was cold, but to calm his nerves.
What did that note mean? What was Micky going to say?
His hand hovered above his lips, remembering the sensation, unsure what to think.
He squinted in the distance. He saw a figure in the distance and he felt himself exhale in relief, silly as it was.
Micky slowly walked towards him, his mouth in a thin line, and Percy felt his heart beat frantically.
“Finally,” Percy grinned.
“Percy,” Micky smiled, but it looked awfully sad. “I need to tell you something,”
“I’m sorry,” he signed. “You said ‘distract me’ and I took that too literally. We can pretend nothing happened, if you like, and it’s okay, and I’m sorry for doing it, so incredibly sorry. We can just talk about you and everything that’s happened, from now on, and the kiss doesn’t have to mean anything, as I said,” he signed rapidly, keeping eye contact.
When he finished, Percy felt his head thud and he felt like he had swallowed bile.
His body had previously buzzed with excitement, of curiosity, wondering what Micky had to say, tight with hopeful anticipation, but now he felt paralysed.
His bones ached, his heart had sunk. His hands were at his sides, dead, unable to move.
Percy desperately tried nodding. He only managed a single, quick one. He forced his hands to go up, they were as heavy as lead. He was about to bite his tongue and sign, “alright,” but his hands moved differently, as if he had no control over them. “I don’t mind if that kiss means something.”
Micky blinked repeatedly, his eyes fiery. “What?”
Percy took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. His hands moved to sign, individual hand movements explaining, telling the story of how he felt, something his brain didn’t know, only his heart knew.
“Yesterday, I’m going to be honest, I stopped kissing you because I was scared that it would ruin everything. That our friendship would be ruined. Because I’m not good enough for you.” He felt his throat go dry, yet he continued. “You’re so kind, you’re good to everyone. And understanding, I don’t need to explain what’s wrong, ever, you always just get it somehow. And, you’re really cute, you’re incredibly attractive - I always look like a middle aged man who’s been through three divorces. I can’t even sleep at night anymore because I’m so nervous after what happened. I’m a wreck. I’m broken. And scared. And I won’t be able to be good for you. And most importantly of all, you deserve better than me anyway,” he and shoved his hands into his pockets, balled them into fists as he dared to open his eyes.
Staring back at him, was Micky, those same wistful ocean blue eyes, but they were open wide. His mouth was open, he looked shell shocked.
“No...” Micky signed quickly. “No, no. You’re wrong. That’s not it at all,”
Percy raised an eyebrow. Micky continued.
“I thought you were too attractive for me. And you’re great. You care so much about everyone. You’re so smart. And brave, after everything- after everything that’s happened. If I went through the same thing I would have broken down.”
Percy laughed aloud, though there was no humour to it. “I’ve already have.”
“No- that’s the thing,” Micky walked closer towards him. “You talked about it. You asked for help. And now I know what to do. I will help you, Percy. As you have helped me my whole life. With talking to people, with drawing when were younger. Everything. You make my life better. And I will help you get through this.
Percy felt his fists loosen, his hard facial expression soften and melt. He was about to open his mouth wide open, but before he knew it, all of a sudden, they were kissing again
A warm feeling flooded through Percy’s chest in an instant. His body hummed with electricity, with heat.
Before, when Micky had said the kiss didn’t have to mean anything - as he said those words he felt like he had been pushed into a cold darkness for eternity, but as they kissed and Percy wrapped his hand around his neck, he felt like he had stepped into the sun again, embraced by warmth and into the healing sunlight.
It was the second kiss, and he still felt the same way.
Like there was a missing jigsaw piece that had been slotted into a hole in his heart he didn’t realise was there, as if Micky was a part of him.
They stopped kissing at the same time to look at each other, as Percy’s head ached.
“I’ll be yours,” Micky signed slowly. “As long as you let me. And we’ll help each other.
“And I will,” Percy signed quickly. “I let you. And we’ll be with each other. We’ll make this work,”
They blindly grabbed each other’s hands, squeezing tightly, a look of understanding passing between them, as they let go again and leaned in for another kiss.
