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For Percy, sitting through his mother's weekly Sunday night dinner is a special kind of torture, what with all the people and the socializing and the food. Tonight, however, it seems as though Oliver is deter mined to make it a different kind torture.
It all starts when Percy asks George a question about the shop. For some time, he has wondered how the twins are able to accurately predict trends in the world of practical jokes and general tomfoolery. According to his brother, it all comes down to two things: research and thinking like a prankster.
As George elaborates on his reply, a hand inches its way along the outside of Percy's thigh. Percy glances over at Oliver, who gives him a lazy grin in return.
"Just trying to liven things up a bit," he murmurs.
Percy fights back a blush as Oliver's hand travels towards his inner thigh. His own hands grip the edge of the table, forcing him to focus on the sensation of the wood beneath his fingers—Merlin, that sounds dirtier than he'd intended—rather than on Oliver's wandering touch.
"Mm. That's fascinating, George," he says, realising a split-second too late that his voice was louder than it needed to be. His cheeks flame as everyone laughs. George looks put out, but only for a moment.
"Am I boring you, Percy?" he says, grinning. "That's a first."
Percy shakes his head, but he can't think of a suitable retort when Oliver's hand is so close to his cock.
"Are you alright, Perce?" Oliver asks. He's the very picture of innocence, except for the mischievous sparkle in his eye. Percy sends him a glare that lacks any real heat—how can it when he's so turned on he can barely think straight?
"I'm fine," he manages. He's trying very hard not to think about his growing erection, and he decides to concentrate instead on what might happen if someone discovers what Oliver is doing. Thinking about the potential consequences feels like the best way to occupy his mind.
It's quite flattering that Oliver wants him right now, but it's also mortifying. If someone were to peer under the table, they would see what is going on and Percy might be labeled a pervert or a deviant. Or would he be congratulated for doing something "risky"? All he knows is that he would prefer to keep his sex life private. He's still embarrassed about kissing Oliver in front of his family, even after three years of dating. There's no way he's going to let them see anything more than that.
"Oliver, please," he whispers. Ginny has started talking about an upcoming Holyhead Harpies match, and he doesn't want to miss a single detail because his little sister looks so excited. "You have to stop."
Almost immediately, he wishes that he hadn't said anything, because the loss of stimulation proves almost too much to bear. He bites his lip and looks over at Oliver again. His boyfriend smirks back.
"What's the matter, missing my hand already?" he whispers as he stretches past Percy to grab the salt. Percy is thankful that he's at least using his other hand for that task.
Percy lets out a quiet groan. "If we weren't in public right now..."
"Then let's leave." Oliver's suggestion makes Percy blink. It would be rude to leave, surely, but it's not as if either of them are paying much attention to anyone else as it is.
"Ginny, can you owl me with the details of your match?" Percy says, shooting her a small smile. "I'd love to stay and listen but I'm afraid I have a terrible headache."
Choruses of, "Oh no!" and "Feel better soon!" fill his ears as he stands, leaning towards Oliver so that his erection is pressed against the other man's leg. He's sure that Oliver will have some comment about that, but if it keeps awkward questions at bay, he's willing to put up with a comment or two.
"Just a moment, boys!" Percy's mother says. Percy squeezes his eyes shut, hoping against hope that she didn't notice the tent in his robes. "You must take some leftovers with you!"
Oliver handles the leftovers while Percy says his goodbyes. "I'll see you all next week," he promises.
Once he and Oliver have Apparated back to their flat, he allows his boyfriend a moment to set down the leftovers before pulling him in for a heated kiss.
"Can we please finish what you started, Oliver?" he asks when they come up for air.
Oliver merely tugs him towards the bedroom in response.