Heat Wave by scheherezhad
Rating: PG
Summary: Oliver can't sleep in the heat. Written for OPImprov #16: Catch dent middle time
Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable bits, and I'm definitely not making any money off of this.
Notes: This was written in about an hour and hasn't been beta'd, so mistakes are all mine.
Feedback: Of course. scheherezhad@yahoo.com
"Run, run, as fast as you can.
Can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man."
Oliver rolled over and punched his pillow into submission. He'd been tossing and turning all night, sticky and hot and irritated, with that stupid children's rhyme running circles round his mind. It had started some minutes after he lay down, and every time he was about to drift off, it came back loudly.
He thought maybe it had something to do with the weather. A freak autumn heat wave had hit the area, and even air conditioning and charms couldn't fight the temperature. His mind drifted after the rhyme again.
Oh, he'd run. He had run fast and run hard, but he'd caught his gingerbread man. Percy. Oliver had had everything he ever wanted: a secure job on a professional Quidditch team, a huge four-post bed in his cozy flat, and the love of his life next to him when he woke up. For two wonderful years, there had been two dents in the pillows every morning.
Life was good until Puddlemere had made it to the World Cup. Then things went sour. Oliver was travelling and training constantly. Percy had taken on more work than he could handle at the Ministry, and his temper had gotten so short as to be almost non-existent. Between their job schedules, they hardly got to see each other.
The whole thing blew up one night when they both managed to be home at the same time. Oliver had made dinner, which they ate amicably, and he began making advances after they finished. Irritably, Percy had pushed him away.
"Oliver, I don't have time for this tonight."
"You don't have time? This is the first night we've been home together in three months, and you don't have time just to be with me? I can't believe you. Your damn paperwork gets more time in bed with you than I do," he spat.
He immediately regretted it when he saw the look on Percy's face.
"You know that working for the Ministry is what I've wanted to do since I was a child. You know how much this job means to me, Ol. I'm the middle son, and this is my chance to do something to set myself apart. To make something of my life. I thought you understood."
"I do understand; I'm playing Quidditch for those same reasons. It's just that...we are more important."
"I...Maybe we should take a break."
That break was three years and going. Oliver no longer played Quidditch, and he'd heard that Percy had given up the Ministry. Now, he worked at a Muggle club and spent his nights alone in bed, hot and sweaty for all the wrong reasons.
A tapping at the window interrupted the bitter memories. He crawled out of bed and let the owl in, as well as a gust of hot air. After untying the scroll, he fetched a dish of lukewarm water for the owl and leaned against the counter to read the message.
Can I come in?
Oliver's brow furrowed in confusion. The knock that came at his door explained part of it; the person on the other side explained the rest.
"Percy."
"Can I come in, Oliver?"
"Of course."
They spent the night talking, and they fell asleep on Oliver's bed, smiling and still dressed. When Oliver woke in the morning, the rhyme was no longer stuck in his head, and the heat wave had broken. Percy was in his arms. He'd caught his gingerbread man again, for good, and it was about time.