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They spent this Saturday at the Burrow - Molly wanted to have the whole family around for dinner and then they just ended up staying for longer. Oliver spent most of the evening talking to the Potters about quidditch and it was already too late before he noticed that other Weasleys managed to get his boyfriend drunk. Not just tipsy, he had seen Percy tipsy before, now he was full-on drunk, mumbling and struggling to find balance and very, very clingy. The moment there was a particularly lanky and tall Weasley on his lap, he decided they should go, so they said goodbye to everyone and apparated home.
Oliver apparated them to their living room. It was dark, his arm was tightly wrapped around Percy's body, he wasn't sure if his boyfriend would even be able to stand on his own. He murmured a quick "Lumos", just so he wouldn't trip on the coffee table or any plant (because somehow they accumulated at least a dozen plants in the living room alone).
'Since when does Percy even get drunk at family events?' he thought as he dragged Weasley towards their bedroom.
There was no point in trying to persuade Percy to take a shower, so he just helped him get changed (incredible, how drunk people struggle with the idea of shirt cuffs). Well, at least he tried. He was unbuttoning Percy's shirt when he got stopped from doing it any further by arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down.
"Ollie."
"Percy, love, let me help you with this and you'll go to sleep, okay?"
"No. Oliver," Percy whispered and kissed his cheek, "Oliver, I need to tell you something."
"You'll tell me in the morning."
"No, no. I can't talk about it sober. You know there are things I-"
"Yes, yes, I know, but it's late and you're really drunk."
Percy pulled him even closer.
"Ollie. Listen to me. Please. I've been thinking about how what happened last weekend and I... I know your family hates me, you really don't need to bring me every time you visit, they don't want to see-"
"They don't hate you, Perce..."
"They do. Oliver, I wouldn't want my family to hate you either, but I'm not stupid and I see how your family treats me. And it makes me uncomfortable."
"It's unbelievable how you can be that drunk and still talk like you always do."
"Ollie, don't change the subject, please," Percy whispered as his hands moved to grab Oliver's arms.
Wood sighed.
"Okay, I- I'll try and talk to them. And you know you don't always have to go with me to family meetings, right?"
"You always go with me, I didn't want to make you feel bad."
"When did you start caring about how other people feel?"
"I always cared how people I love feel."
"That's sweet," Oliver kissed Percy on the forehead, "now, let me go, I need to take a shower."
Percy muttered something that sounded like "sure" and loosened his grip.
Oliver opened a drawer to grab a T-shirt for Percy to change into. He tossed it to his boyfriend.
"Love, you're not sleeping in a shirt."
"I know, I know."
Oliver took a quick shower and crawled under the covers. He put his head on Percy's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his body.
"By the way, I really don't like your moustache."
"What?" Wood raised his head.
"I don't like how it feels when I kiss you."
"Do you want me to get rid of it?"
"No."
"I don't get you."
"I know you like it. It's your face."
"Uh-huh," Oliver murmured as he snuggled into Percy's neck.
"Goodnight, Ollie."
"Goodnight, Perce."
Oliver woke up first. That never happens, but another thing that supposedly never happens is a drunk Percy Weasley, so that's completely explainable.
He carefully got up, closed the curtains and silently walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He poured two glasses of water and grabbed aspirin from the medicine drawer - wizards might have their powerful potions, but muggle ways work well too, and that's the way of dealing with hangover he knows from his parents.
He put one glass on the night table on his side and the other one along with aspirin on Percy's side. He sat on the bed and looked at his boyfriend. So peaceful. So unaware of how strong of a headache he'll probably wake up with.
Oliver ran his hand through the ginger hair when Percy moved. His eyes opened slightly.
"The night table," Wood whispered.
Percy's eyes slowly moved from Oliver's face to the glass of water.
"Thank you," he swallowed the pill and drank all of the water, "what time is it?"
"Eight thirty."
"Can we go back to sleep for a little longer?"
"Of course, anything you want."
They got under the covers and Oliver buried his face in Percy's hair.
"Perce, do you remember what you told me yesterday?"
"Yes, I really hate that moustache."
Oliver chuckled and hugged him tighter.
"I'll get rid of it at some point, I promise."
"You'd better."
"Where's that personality when you're not pissed or hungover? I'm starting to like it."
"Oh, shut up, let me sleep."
"I just want you to feel okay with telling me something's wrong without drinking half of your father's liquor collection."
"I know," Percy whispered as he wrapped his arms around Oliver's body.