Work Text:
Percy’s hands flutter over Colin like pale, nervous songbirds—straightening his scarf, brushing madeleine crumbs from his jumper. The corners of Colin’s mouth curve sweetly. Percy flourishes his wand and casts a few spells; tugging Colin’s jacket tighter around his thin shoulders, flattening his hair. Even though he’ll end up a few minutes late to work, Colin lets Percy fuss, his patience endless and his eyes full of affection.
*
With meticulous care, Percy lays out Colin’s best button-down, charcoal trousers and assorted undergarments. Against the bed’s neutral beige duvet, it's easy to double-check that the colours and textures are flawlessly coordinated. Colin’s grin lights up the room when he spots Percy hovering over the clothing. After a week of such indulgence, Colin drowsily pouts if Percy hasn’t arranged his outfit by the time he’s done brushing his teeth.
*
Percy clings to Colin in the darkness, his voice a tangle of whispered pleas. Colin hugs him tighter, holding Percy more tenderly than his beloved camera. His touch is steady, sure—it's no wonder Colin’s photos never blur. They both have nightmares—they all do. Yet in the night, Percy and Colin have each other.
*
The suds froth along the strands of Colin’s mousy hair as Percy’s fingers gently work, the water warm and soothing. Colin tilts his head back, a blissful smile tugging at his lips as Percy murmurs, “Almost done.”
*
Percy, tense from a day of long Ministry meetings, storms out from the fireplace and insists on brewing tea and tucking a plaid blanket around Colin. Colin knows letting him coddle and fret over someone else will calm Percy’s nerves far more than anything else. Later, with some coaxing, Percy agrees to sit for a shoulder massage, tension melting under Colin’s loving attention.
*
There’s a rapping at this office door before it clicks open and wafts in the comforting scent of roast meat and buttery bakery buns. Colin skips through the door. The young photographer sets down a paper lunch box and casts a warming charm over it; both the flick of his wand and his grin are cheeky. Percy’s expression relaxes instantly, and the weight of his day lifts with the first savoury bite of the hot sandwich.
*
Percy’s voice drifts like a breeze over honey-golden fields as he reads aloud from the autobiography of famous wizard photographer Jens Fordwicket. Colin is tucked against his side, humming in contentment every other line. As he flips a page, Percy glances down, catching Colin’s sleepy eyes hovering above a tender smile. Percy can’t help but smile back.
*
Click. Another candid: Percy laughing with Ginny, his nose scrunched just so, excitement sparking a faint blush which dusts his ears and nape. Colin beams, proud of every shot simply because of who his subject is. Percy throws him an exasperated glance, a groan escaping. Yet the twitch of Percy’s lips betrays the affection he’s hesitant to display around family.
*
The flat overflows with memories—snapshots of sunlight, laughter, and Percy, some in ornate frames and others pinned or clipped like glossy scales on various vertical surfaces. Colin’s favourite is a palm-sized shot of Percy squinting over paperwork, his glasses uncharacteristically askew. Colin’s tracing his fingertips over it, again. “I look ridiculous,” Percy grumbles, but the satisfied glimmer in his blue eyes says he’s anything but disgruntled by Colin’s adoration.
Colin’s fingertips trail from the surface of the photo to Percy’s cheek. They lean forward, Colin’s hand slipping into red hair and Percy anchoring his arms around Colin’s waist. Their kiss overflows with love.