Perciver Sickficlet!
i am sick, so i wrote sick!percy to comfort myself. i’ve never written perciver before (although i love then very much), so apologies in advance for ooc!!
Percy grumbles as Oliver pushes him down onto his bed by his shoulders.
“I’m,” a cough, “fine,” he protests.
Oliver raises a disbelieving eyebrow at Percy, where he is now leaned against the bed’s headboard, arms crossed as he glares at Oliver. His cheeks are flushed and a drop of sweat is sliding down his forehead; his nose is red from blowing it too roughly.
Still, all Oliver can think of while looking at his expression, now drawn into a pout he’d never normally let escape him, is cute.
Percy lets out another cough that shakes Oliver out of his stupor.
“You’re clearly not fine,” he responds, trying to pull the covers over Percy, who is fighting him every step of the way. “You nearly keeled over on our way outta Transfiguration.”
“I did not! I just… stood up too quickly.”
He sneezes.
Oliver sighs.
“Just rest, ‘kay? Exams are finished. We won’t be doing anything important in class anyways.”
Percy makes an offended noise.
“Not important!? What if Professor Snape changes his mind, and decides he does want to teach us how to brew—“.
Oliver cuts him off there— he knows he’ll make up a thousand scenarios that’ll get increasingly more unrealistic if he lets him continue.
“If he does, which he won’t because he’s Snape, and he never changes his mind, I’m sure Penny will be willing to lend you her notes. I’ll take notes for you in Herbology,” he reassures, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Percy, who is now looking appropriately cozy bundled up in the blanket. He is still glaring.
Percy opens his mouth again, clearly about to continue protesting. Instead of paying attention to whatever he’s about to say, Oliver leans in to pluck Percy’s glasses, which have began slipping down his nose, off his face.
Percy promptly shuts his mouth.
Oliver looks down to fold up his glasses and puts them on the nightstand. When he looks up, Percy’s face is even more red than before, at which Oliver frowns.
“Perce’, I’m serious, you don’t look well. Just rest, you’ve already worked harder than anyone else on exams. This is your body telling you to take a damn break.”
Percy still looks reluctant, although his eyes have began to flutter with the signs of oncoming sleep.
“It’s either that, or I carry you to the Hospital Wing,” he adds for good measure.
Percy immediately shuts his eyes and rolls over, facing the side opposite Oliver. Oliver laughs, looking at Percy’s mess of red curls, peaking out of the covers where he’s pulled them higher over his face. He feels fondness grow in his chest— it’s rare that he gets to see Percy act so childish these days, stressed as he’s been with studying, Head Boy duties, chasing after his siblings, internships, job hunting, or whatever else he’s loaded onto his plate.
“Fine, fine, you win. I’ll rest,” Percy grunts, his voice muffled under the covers. “Happy?”
“Very,” Oliver tries to tease, but even he can hear the fondness he’s accidentally let bleed into his voice.
Percy digs his head further into the covers and makes a few unintelligible noises, before drawing his head back out.
“I hope you know, you’re much worse than me when you’re sick. It is truly a nightmare to get you to take a break from Quidditch practice.”
Oliver chuckles.
“I know,” he says back indulgently.
After a few moments, there’s still no response from Percy, so Oliver assumes he’s fallen asleep. He goes to put out the lamps and opens the door.
“Thank you, Ollie.”
Oliver startles, feeling his cheeks flush, and turns back to look at Percy. Light snoring has began filling the room.
“You’re welcome, Perce’,” he smiles, and slips out of the dorm.
thank you for reading!! hopefully i get better soon so i can update soon :’).
