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Every morning, Oliver woke up five minutes before Percy’s alarm.
It wasn’t planned. Not exactly. He didn’t set his own alarm he just woke. As if his body knew the window of peace was short and precious. Five quiet minutes before Percy stirred, before the day began, before the world came crashing in again with parchment deadlines and Ministry reports and meetings with people who never quite looked Percy in the eye the way Oliver did.
So Oliver laid there and watched him.
Sometimes Percy had his face half buried in the pillow, mouth parted slightly, hair a mess. Sometimes he was curled tightly, like his body was still learning that it didn’t have to brace for anything anymore. Oliver never disturbed him. He just watched.
He counted freckles.
Traced them with his gaze like constellations he already knew by heart.
And he whispered. Soft things, quiet things. Not because he expected Percy to hear, but because he needed to say them. Words like:
You looked so tired last night. I wish you’d let yourself rest.
I love you.
You’re the bravest person I know.
Some mornings he pressed a kiss to Percy’s shoulder. Other mornings he just tucked the blanket higher over him and memorized the way his lashes lay against his skin.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs.
And Percy never woke.
Until one morning, he did.
Oliver didn’t notice at first. He was too caught up watching the curve of Percy’s jaw, the freckle near his left ear, the way early light turned the red in his hair gold. He was mid whisper, voice barely audible in the stillness:
"You don’t even know how loved you are, do you?"
And then Percy opened his eyes.
Oliver froze.
Their gazes met. For a heartbeat, neither of them said anything. Percy looked dazed, soft with sleep, but his expression was unreadable.
"Have you been doing this every morning?" he asked, voice hoarse.
Oliver flushed. "Er. Not every morning. Just, you know. Some."
Percy blinked slowly. "You told me I’m the bravest person you know."
Oliver sat up halfway. "I didn’t mean for you to hear that.I mean, I meant it. I just… you were asleep."
Percy reached out, fingers curling around Oliver’s wrist.
"Say it again."
Oliver stared. "What?"
"Say it again," Percy said, more awake now, voice still low. "Please."
Oliver swallowed. Leaned in.
"You’re the bravest person I know."
Percy tugged him down, and Oliver went willingly. Their foreheads touched. The alarm still hadn’t gone off.
"And you love me," Percy whispered.
"I do. More than Quidditch. More than sleep."
Percy let out a shaky breath. "I didn’t know you did this."
"It’s five minutes," Oliver said. "But it’s the best five of the day."
He felt Percy smile. Just a little.
They stayed like that, wrapped in warmth and half light.
The alarm buzzed softly a minute later.
Percy turned it off without looking.
"Let’s stay in bed," he said.
"Yeah?"
Percy nodded against his chest. "I want five more minutes."
Oliver kissed the top of his head.
"You can have all the minutes you want."
And Percy believed him.