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He wasn't going to get away with it. Quidditch Captain or not, he wasn't going to keep sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower, and Percy was going to make bloody well sure of it! He'd go to McGonagall if he had to. But first, he needed to find out why Oliver was sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night. He knew that Oliver was meeting someone. He had managed to catch a glimpse of the note: Meet me in the Prefect's Bathroom at midnight, written in a precise hand. But what he didn't know was who had arranged the clandestine meeting or why. He had a few theories, of course. But they were just that. Theories. And so, at a half-past eleven, he made his way to the fifth floor. He reached the bathroom without incident and entered, choosing a shadowed corner for his hiding place. He cast a quick disillusionment charm, and settled in to wait behind a stack of towels.
Oliver arrived first. He glanced around the room briefly, then began to pace the length of the sunken tub. It was several minutes before the door opened again, and Percy was surprised to see his fellow Prefect, Cedric Diggory, enter the room and bolt the door behind him. But his surprise was nothing compared to the shock he experienced when Cedric and Oliver embraced. He watched in stunned silence as the their lips met and their forms melded into one another in the soft candlelight.
Their hands roamed over each other, removing school robes, pulling at jumpers, loosening ties, each set of hands unerringly seeking out the flesh hidden beneath the layers of their uniforms. Percy knew he should revel himself and put a stop to this before it went any further, but he couldn't seem to move. It was as though he had been jinxed to the spot, unable to do anything but stare at the spectacle before him.
The pile of clothing on the floor was steadily growing. Cedric dropped to his knees, and, to Percy's utter amazement, began working on Oliver's trousers. First the belt buckle, then the button, then … 'Merlin's beard!' Percy's pulse began to race as Cedric slowly pulled the zip down. Oliver groaned when Cedric's hand disappeared inside his trousers, and Percy gasped aloud. Oliver must have heard, because he had his wand drawn before Percy even realized his error.
“Now who do you think could be spying on us, Ced?”
“Besides staff?” Cedric asked without moving or even bothering to remove his hand from Oliver's pants. “Only another Prefect would know the password.”
“Well, that narrows the list considerably.” Oliver glanced down at Cedric, and Cedric gave a barely perceptible shrug. Turning his attention back to the source of the noise, Oliver said, “Show yourself then.”
He was caught. There was nothing for it but to drop the disillusionment charm and step out from where he was crouched behind the towels, which he did, knocking over half the neatly folded stack in the process.
“Weasley?” Oliver lowered his wand. “I wouldn't have pegged you for a voyeur.”
“I'm not,” Percy stammered. “I wasn't.... What I mean to say is that, I didn't expect – ” Oliver was staring at him, one brow raised. Percy could feel the heat burning in his cheeks. It was difficult to concentrate when Oliver's trousers were hanging open. But what was even more unnerving was the fact that Cedric still hadn't moved. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, “Why hasn't he moved?”
“I haven't given him permission.”
“Permission?” Percy echoed, nonplussed. “You mean … he'll stay there like that, on his knees, with his hand ... until you say otherwise?”
Oliver smiled and the expression spoke volumes more than any verbal explanation could have. Percy gulped. His mind raced. 'Why would anyone put themselves in such a debasing position? Willingly?' And yet, a secret part of him thrilled at the idea. Images came unbidden. Disturbing, erotic images. They filled his mind with heretofore unexplored possibilities and his body with a strange longing. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that he failed to hear Cedric clear his throat or notice the meaningful glance towards his trousers.
When Percy finally snapped out of it, both Oliver and Cedric were giving him an appraising look – one which he wasn't entirely sure he cared for. “Yes, well,” he began. “I'm very sorry to have interrupted your … um.... Anyway, I should be.... I should leave.”
“No.” There was something in Oliver's tone that Percy's body understood. His feet seemed rooted to the spot. His heart was pounding in his throat. He tried swallowing around it, but found that his mouth had suddenly gone dry. “You should stay.”
“I won't tell anyone,” the words were barely a whisper.
“No, you won't,” Oliver said with utter confidence. “You see, I'm afraid we can't just let you walk out. But don't worry, Cedric here is rather good at memory charms.”
Percy back-pedalled. 'A memory charm? They wouldn't dare. Would they?'
“Of course, if you'd rather stay....” Oliver shrugged and let the implication dangle.
“Stay?” Percy looked from Oliver to Cedric and back again. 'Stay? And do what?' His imagination supplied an answer, one that made his pulse speed with a heady mixture of anticipation and dread. “I suppose I could,” he said.
“You sure?” Oliver asked. When Percy nodded, he smiled, but this time it was a knowing smile. One that said quite plainly that he knew what secret desires lurked under that prim exterior. “Ced, make our guest comfortable.”
“Of course.” Cedric rose from his kneeling position, and if he suffered at all from being so long on the cold, marble floor it didn't show. As he moved away, Oliver grabbed him by the arm and spun him back around, taking his mouth in a heated kiss that went on and on. When Cedric finally turned around to face Percy again, his lips were reddened and there was a slight upturn to the corners of his mouth.
'It's almost as if he enjoys it,' Percy mused. He would have pondered the matter further, but Cedric reached out just then to unclasp his robes. “What,” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again, “What are you doing?”
“What I was told to do,” Cedric said, and his tone made it clear that the answer should have been obvious.
Percy foolishly looked to Oliver for help, but he only shrugged and said, “I suggest you go with it. It's going to get bloody hot in here soon.”
Every fibre of his being was tense. He allowed Cedric to remove his robe, but when he reached for the bottom edge of the jumper Percy batted his hands away. “I'll do it,” he hissed, grabbing the garment and pulling it over his head before Cedric could object. The motion knocked his glasses askew, but Cedric set them straight as Percy flung his jumper to the floor.
“Relax,” Cedric murmured, moving on to the Gryffindor house tie. “I won't touch you any more than I have to.” He draped the tie in the crook of his elbow and set to work on the button placket. Percy tried to remain detached as Cedric pulled open the shirt and slid it off his shoulders. He managed fairly well until Cedric moved behind him, pulled his arms behind his back, and bound his wrists with the silk tie. “At least, not yet,” he whispered in Percy's ear before returning to Oliver's side.
“Kneel.”
Cedric's parting statement had left Percy off kilter and he complied without questioning, without even thinking. Oliver and Cedric were both looking down at him and he had an almost irresistible urge to squirm under their scrutiny. Thankfully, it didn't last long because Oliver turned his full attention back to Cedric, who resumed his kneeling position without having to be told.
And just like that, it was as if Percy had never interrupted them. Cedric reached into Oliver's trousers and eased him out, carefully avoiding the teeth of the zip. Percy knew then why Oliver had told him to kneel: so that he would have the best possible vantage point. The only way that he could avoid seeing what was happening would be to look away, or close his eyes. He knew that he should, but he couldn't seem to make his eyes obey, and so he watched, mesmerized, as Cedric took Oliver into his mouth.
Even if he closed his eyes it wouldn't matter. He would still hear the soft, wet sounds that Cedric was making and the occasional groan of pleasure from Oliver. He was amazed at just how deep Cedric could take him. There were times when the tip of his nose brushed against Oliver's stomach, and Percy had to wonder if he was using some sort of charm to make breathing unnecessary. A thrill shot through his body when Oliver fisted his hands into Cedric's thick hair and began thrusting. Cedric's hands moved to rest on Oliver's thighs, not to push him away or even try to stop him, but rather for balance.
Percy could hear Oliver's ragged breathing, and his body tightened in anticipation. He wondered whether Cedric would swallow, or if he would even have a choice in the matter. The answer seemed imminent when Oliver suddenly stopped. It was only then, when he finally exhaled, that Percy realized he had been holding his breath. Oliver looked directly at Percy. He was still buried deep in Cedric's throat, and he withdrew slowly, making a show of it. Cedric settled back on his heels, smirking at Percy. “Your turn,” he said.
“But,” Percy was very nearly dumbstruck. “I'm not....”
“Into blokes?” Oliver supplied.
“Precisely.”
“Then why are you still here, I wonder?”
The question had merit, and Percy turned it over in his mind. He had never been attracted to another wizard before. Still, the thought wasn't entirely repulsive. If he was honest with himself, though, he had to admit that there was a certain part of him that wanted, not them, but what they offered. It might have been anyone, Merlin help him, but this … this he wanted. This he needed.
The decision must have showed on his face, because Oliver flashed that knowing grin again. “Come here.” He pointed to the spot where Cedric still knelt, prompting Cedric to move over. When Percy made to stand up, Oliver shook his head. “No. Crawl.”
Conflicting emotions warred inside Percy as he shuffled on his knees over to Oliver. For one panic stricken moment he was starring at Oliver's erection. Then Oliver crouched down in front of him and they were eye to eye. “Are you sure about this, Percy?”
The question caught him off guard. “Of course, I'm sure. Why else would I be kneeling here?” he snapped.
Oliver shook his head in much the same way an exasperated parent would. “Once you say yes, I'm not going to give you a second chance to back out,” Oliver said. “So I need you to be certain. Don't give me a knee-jerk reaction, Percy. Think about it.”
If ever there was a moment when Percy wished that he swore it was then. 'Think about it!' His blood boiled with impotent rage. For the first time since they were tied, he tested his bonds, but Cedric obviously knew what he was doing. In an odd way, it comforted Percy. 'They know what they're doing, but do I?' he wondered. The answer was obvious once he calmed down. And with it came a profound sense of peace. “I'm sure.”
Oliver nodded his satisfaction. “Good,” he said, placing a hand on Percy's shoulder. “Now, no more talking.” And with that his hand moved to the back of Percy's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Percy fought it at first, more out of shock than anything, but he soon stopped resisting. Just when he grew used to the idea of having Oliver's tongue exploring his mouth it was gone. He opened his eyes to see Oliver rising. Once more, he was staring at Oliver's cock. He hesitated, knowing full well what he was supposed to do, but not at all confident that he could actually do it.
Oliver was staring down at him. Waiting. “I don't expect you to be as good as Cedric,” he said, “but I do expect you try.”
Percy nodded. He took a deep breath and leaned in, his eyes closing, to take Oliver into his mouth before he could lose his nerve. When the tip hit the back of his throat he opened his eyes only to find that he still had about half the length left to go. He took a deep breath and felt Oliver shiver. He tried to take more, but ended up gagging and had to pull away coughing. Cedric laughed and Percy shot him a nasty look.
“It takes practice,” Oliver reassured him.
Percy regained his composure and began once more, careful not to choke himself again. He even started to enjoy it after a while. There was something arousing about the feel of the smooth flesh sliding between his lips and bumping against the back of his throat. He especially liked it when he did something that made Oliver shudder, like when he flicked his tongue over the tip, swirled it around the head, and then ran it underneath the ridge of foreskin. He was finally getting the hang of it when Oliver fisted his hands in his hair and stopped him.
“Enough,” Oliver said. “Go back over there.”
Percy shuffled away, confused and worried that he had displeased Oliver somehow. He took his appointed place and resumed watching. At a look from Oliver, Cedric stood and stripped off what remained of his clothes. Percy realized, with mild surprise, that he found Cedric handsome.
Cedric knelt before Oliver, this time facing away from him. Oliver went down on his knees behind him, wrapping his arms around Cedric's chest, and kissed the back of his neck. The tenderness of the gesture wasn't lost on Percy. Then Oliver whispered something softly in Cedric's ear, making the Hufflepuff shudder. A moment later he shoved Cedric forward onto his hands, withdrew his wand from his trouser pocket, and did something with it that shocked Percy more than anything else he had seen so far. The wand was then tucked away and Oliver shoved his cock into Cedric without so much as a by-your-leave.
Percy felt a wave of panic sweep through him. 'What have I agreed to?'
The fact that Cedric seemed to be enjoying this rough treatment refused to register despite the fact that his mouth was hanging open and low sounds that could only be described as intense pleasure were issuing from the loose 'O' shape formed by his lips. Percy tried to look away, but his eyes kept being drawn back by the hypnotic rocking motion and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. He was amazed to notice that Cedric was erect, and, once he had noticed, he couldn't seem to look anywhere else. He had no idea how long he watched them before Cedric started begging. It was incoherent at first, 'Oliver' and 'please' repeated over and over and over. Percy assumed he must be pleading for mercy, after all, Oliver wasn't exactly being gentle with him.
Oliver ignored Cedric's pleas at first and Percy understood that it was simply another aspect of their game. After what seemed like an eternity, Oliver placed a hand between Cedric's shoulder blades and gave a clipped command as he pressed the Hufflepuff down onto his elbows. Cedric let out a particularly long, loud moan. It seemed to please Oliver, because he smiled. “That's is, Ced. Come for me.” And just like that, he did – much to Percy's astonishment. Oliver rode out Cedric's release, waiting until he finally stopped twitching and shuddering to pull out. Cedric collapsed onto the cold marble, panting. Oliver's wand came out again, this time to preform a quick cleansing charm on himself and the floor. Then he turned his attention to Percy while Cedric recovered.
“Enjoy the show?” he asked. His gaze drifted lower, seeking the answer that Percy was unwilling to provide. “I'll take that as a yes.” His comment sent heat rushing to Percy's cheeks again, which made Oliver laugh. “It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
Cedric pushed himself up into a seated position, and Oliver's gaze shifted to him. “Strip him.”
It was pointless to object, and so Percy stood up and stoically allowed Cedric to finish undressing him. “Merlin, you're pale Weasley,” Cedric whispered as he untied Percy's wrists.
Another order, this one to 'prepare' him, sent a fresh wave of panic rippling through Percy. Cedric walked over to his pile of discarded clothing, retrieved his wand, and came back. “On your hands and knees.”
Percy wasn't sure if he had to obey Cedric as well, but arguing with the Hufflepuff about it seemed juvenile. He knelt, planting his hands on the floor, and waited, every muscle in his body coiled tight with dread. All he could think about was how rough Oliver had been with Cedric. 'I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't – ' Percy felt the tip of Cedric's wand press into his arse and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Relax,” Cedric admonished. He whispered an incantation and then something cool was seeping out of the tip of the wand. It was withdrawn moments later and Percy heard the wand clatter to the floor. Then a fingertip was circling his arse. To his credit, Cedric went slow and gave him plenty of time to adjust. Percy couldn't help the small sounds he was making. One finger was fine. One finger felt good. He'd done it to himself before and the resulting orgasm had been spectacular. He just wasn't sure about two, or three, or something else entirely for that matter.
“If you're going to have any hope of enjoying this, Weasely, you're going have to loosen up. Trust me, you don't want a cock up your arse when your muscles are clenched this tight.” Cedric wiggled his fingers for emphasis and Percy groaned.
Oliver laughed. “It would take a bottle of Rosmerta's finest to get Percy to loosen up.”
“That's not - ” Percy gasped as Cedric twisted the fingers in his arse. “Not … true.”
“Prove it,” Oliver said, giving him a hard stare.
Percy closed his eyes and willed his body to relax. 'I can do this,' he told himself. He wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually he relaxed and it started to feel good. Cedric must have been satisfied that he was ready and signalled Oliver over, because he was coming towards them. Then Cedric was gone and Oliver took his place. Percy tensed, expecting something quit a bit larger than the finger Oliver slid into him.
“You need to stay relaxed, Percy. I don't want to hurt you.”
“I'm trying,” Percy said. He concentrated once more on relaxing. It was easier now that he was accustomed to the sensation. Realizing that Oliver wasn't a sadist helped too.
“Ready?”
“I think so.”
“Wait.” Cedric walked towards them and removed Percy's horn-rimmed spectacles. “You won't be needing these.” He placed them on top of the pile of Percy's clothes and then settled back down to watch.
Percy tried not to tense as Oliver slowly pressed into him, but he couldn't help it. It burned. And the more he tensed up, the more it hurt. Soon he was wincing and saying, 'ow' over and over again. Oliver stopped each time and waited for him to adjust, but after several more attempts Percy was ready to give up. “I can't,” he gasped. “I'm sorry.”
“You're going to have to distract him, Ced.”
Percy saw Cedric stand up a second before Oliver grabbed his hair and yanked him upright. The action tore a startled cry from his throat that was cut short by Cedric, who had knelt before him and took possession of his mouth. The kiss was nothing like the one Oliver had given him. It was softer, teasing, and Percy melted into it. He wondered what that mouth would feel like wrapped around him, and his cock twitched in response. Cedric must have felt it stirring against his thigh, because he reached down and started stroking him. It felt so good that he almost forgot about Oliver until he started moving again. A groan rolled up Percy's throat, getting lost in Cedric's mouth, and Oliver echoed the sound.
They settled into a rhythm that gradually built in intensity. Percy was drowning in sensation. Cedric's hands gripped his arse, pulling him closer, their cocks rubbing against each other as Cedric rocked his hips. Cedric's mouth feasted on every gasp and moan that Oliver wrung from him. Stars exploded behind his eyelids, as white-hot pleasure erupted through him. He heard Oliver swear and felt him jerk, forcing another cry from him. The two of them collapsed to the floor, taking Cedric with them, landing in a tangle. Cedric grabbed Percy's hand and dragged it down to his cock. Taking the hint, Percy wrapped his fist around it and stoked, letting Cedric guide his rhythm. It wasn't long before Cedric let out a strangled cry of his own.
“Merlin's bollocks,” Percy panted. “That was effing brilliant.”
Oliver laughed. “So, you do know how to swear. Good to know.”
It was several minutes before anyone moved, and then it was Cedric who got up and started turning on taps all around the huge bathtub.
“So,” Percy began. “What happens now?”
Oliver gestured towards the bath. “We get cleaned up.”
“No. I meant – ”
“I know,” Oliver said. “But that's really up to you, isn't it?”