In Medias Res (falls and feelings)
"I can't believe you wanted me to teach you how to fly," Marcus frowned, watching Percy fix and tighten the excessive protective gear he was donning. He looked ridiculous, and it was almost laughable how serious he was about the safety risks. There were no bludgers or beaters. They didn't even do that in the first year flying class.
From his place on the ground, Percy shrugged and knocked on his left shin guard. "I'm good at school, so I help you get good at school. You're good at flying, so..."
"I help you get good at flying," Marcus finished boredly. "Yes, yes. You've said that before."
"Okay, so then what can't you believe?" Percy challenged as he finally finished with his unnecessary padding. It was heavy, so when he made his way over to where Marcus was standing with two brooms in hand, it was more of a waddle.
"I mean, why can't you just ask Wood to help you?" The question left a bitter taste in Marcus' mouth, but he had to ask it. He moved on quickly, though. "Better yet, how do you not know how to fly already?"
"Well, I'm very injury prone," Percy said defensively. "I more often than not opted out of flying when I was a kid, and I was able to do the same in first year. I kind of regret it, but..." He trailed off, looking into the distance. There was a pause, and then he shook his head. "And as for why I don't get Oliver to help me, well... I don't want him to help me. I want you to."
This left Marcus reeling a little bit, and he tried not to think too deeply into why Percy would want Marcus of all people to help him, especially over his own roommate. It must've been the circumstance, right?
Percy must've seen something in Marcus' face, for he then asked, "Is that alright with you?"
He'd sounded so unsure when he said it, that it left Marcus rushing to reassure him that yes, it was more than okay. Only in his mind did he admit that he was more than happy to help. He was more than happy that Percy needed him — er, his help.
They quickly got down to business.
Percy was a good learner, which did not come as a shock. It was more of the mental blocks than anything, but those were easy to circumvent if Marcus stayed close.
It took a while, but Percy finally felt comfortable steering his own broom with both hands rather than clutching onto Marcus' shirt and allowing him to steer them both.
They started off low to the ground and gradually got higher and higher, and Percy allowed them to get about as high as the top of the stands before he called it quits. Apparently, he was upset that Marcus was somehow on the opposite side of the pitch yet "looking out for him," and had scared himself again.
"How are you making sure I don't fall off my broom by hovering 100 meters away?" He'd huffed as he haphazardly landed his broom. He didn't want Marcus' help with that task, as upset as he was, and Marcus kept his criticisms of the procedure to himself. Maybe they could address it next time.
"You were doing fine before you noticed! I hadn't been that close for ages!" Marcus defended himself. That only served to make Percy more mad at him, so he just resigned himself to listening to the scolding as he put their stuff away.
Strangely, it didn't bother him that Percy was still yelling at him even as they walked back to the castle. While he did want for it to be over with so that Percy could just be content and then he could be content and then everybody could be content, it did warm him a little that despite it all, they'd be okay in about an hour or so.
He'd admit defeat an insincere-sounding apology, Percy would know he meant it, accept it but still hold a little grudge, and then it would be okay.
Marcus had never felt that way about his relationship with anyone, and it was weird that of anyone he'd feel that way about, it would be Percy.
But it was nice, refreshing and rewarding. He liked Percy, and he liked who he could be with Percy. He liked them — Marcus and Percy.
He felt dramatic and sentimental that such a thing would touch him the way it did, and it wouldn't take him long to find out what that actually meant.
Flying was going great, in Percy's opinion. His measure of success: well, he could fly.
They'd settled into a routine that ended up taking up most of their afternoons three times out of the week. Percy still had his duties, after all.
Switching off days didn't end up working well, because Marcus still had to hold his actual quidditch practice and Percy had to do his rounds, so hammering it all out in one go was far more convenient. The good part: it was fun.
Tutoring came first, which was whenever a slot in both their schedules cleared up. Nowadays, it was more like sitting in the library and asking a few questions, since after establishing the fundamentals with Marcus, the need for direct teaching drastically decreased. Even at this point, Percy got the feeling Marcus was just asking questions he already knew the answer to make him feel useful.
It was appreciated, but left Percy a little flustered when he'd go on a prolix tangent only to see Marcus had already written out an answer.
"I just wanted to make sure," Marcus looked down at his answer and pursed his lips, avoiding Percy's eyes.
Percy didn't say anything.
They'd go flying during dinner, and it was up to them to figure out how or when they ate to get around it.
Percy shoveled something in beforehand, which probably wasn't the best idea the first few times when he felt ready to puke, but it was alright. He knew Marcus liked to sneak around to the kitchens at night to get food later, because he'd been invited along a few times.
He always declined. What did he look like breaking the rules, even if he wanted to?
As for the actual sessions, they progressed fast. Since Percy technically had learned to fly by the end of the first session, the progress was exponential from there.
He lost the protective gear once he felt confident he wouldn't fall, he could get higher than the quidditch hoops, and he really didn't need Marcus to hover nearby and make sure he didn't fall off, even though he did anyway.
"Not because I want to, but just in case," Marcus shrugged when Percy asked why he kept doing it.
Percy didn't tell him to stop. What was the harm? It was actually funner that way.
Percy focused on steering his broom, facing forward, while Marcus flew lazily beside him, basing the direction of his broom on the direction Percy was going without looking. Apparently, he trusted that Percy wouldn't crash him into a post or the stands.
Sometimes, when Percy purposely brought them close, Marcus would feel himself brushing up against something and feign mad, beginning to accelerate toward Percy until they were both off like a light. Percy never stood a chance.
They then started to race. Percy wanted to get faster, but he had a feeling that Marcus wanted to keep him slow so that he'd still be able to catch him with ease.
"I'm fast enough for the both of us," Marcus had told him, pridefully patting his chest.
Percy sniffled, his nose kind of cold and dry from all the flying they'd done that day. "That... doesn't make sense. We're not both flying my broom, are we?"
"Well, hop on my broom," Marcus shrugged. "I can take you for a ride. Real fast."
There was some sort of innuendo there, based off of Marcus' sly grin, but Percy didn't pay it any mind. He swung his leg over the broom easily so that he was facing toward Marcus, getting ready to dismount the broom. Marcus did the opposite and made room.
They'd done this a few times, which is why Percy was so confused when he somehow ended up staring up at the sky, squinting as the clouds started to shrink and the wind roared around him. It didn't even register that he was falling early enough for panic to set in. There was a weird mixture of acceptance, exhilaration, and surrealism. It was almost like he was out of body and watching it happen to somebody else, because it definitely couldn't be happening to him. No way he'd go out like this.
And of course, he didn't. Impact couldn't come fast enough. He closed his eyes a few milliseconds before, having been anticipating it around 20 feet early, but when it came, it was... firm. It didn't feel like earth.
When he opened his eyes, realization hit him like a brick as a grunt sounded from beneath him. Ouch.
"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry," Percy cursed, planting his hand on Marcus' chest to hoist himself up. At the last second, he thought better of it and placed it on the ground. That definitely wouldn't help with the breathlessness. "Are you okay?"
Marcus squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply. "Peachy."
"You're not going to die, are you? Don't croak," Percy fretted, slapping at Marcus' cheek. "Open your eyes. Why would you do that?"
Marcus' eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Percy unblinkingly.
"What?" Percy frowned.
Marcus went red and turned his head away, closing his eyes again. After a second, he mumbled, "Get off of me, please."
Only then did Percy remember he was still on top of Marcus, and had been for a while. Oops.
Flustered, he scrambled to roll off to the side. He must've made the other so uncomfortable. And how that could've appeared to any onlookers... he hoped nobody had seen.
"Idiot," Marcus grumbled as Percy's eyes scanned their surroundings. He'd gained a new appreciation for life.
"Thought I was going to die," Percy chuckled breathlessly, shaking his head. "Thanks for that."
"You would've," Marcus retorted, rolling his eyes. "Consider us even."
"Even? I owe you one," Percy insisted, returning his gaze to Marcus, who still had his eyes closed. "How come you didn't die, then?"
Marcus hummed. "I'm just made of different stuff."
"Fall-breaking stuff?" Percy joked, and Marcus nodded.
Silence settled between them once the laughter faded from Percy's face, and Percy took the opportunity to scrutinize his friend(?)'s peaceful face. Long eyelashes, thick eyebrows (furrowed even with the rest of his face being lax), short-cropped hair that accentuated his strong jawline and aristocratic cheekbones... maybe he was made of different stuff.
His dark hair was a stark contrast to his pale skin, but that only worked even better for his full, pink-tinged lips. Now, it wasn't like Percy thought too much about them, but he could appreciate a nice pair of lips when he saw them without it being weird. Right?
So caught up in his inspection, he didn't notice that Marcus had cracked an eye open and was now looking at him in turn.
When Percy saw a tongue dart out to lick at those lips, he remembered himself and looked up, accidentally meeting Marcus' stare directly.
"Something on my face, Weasley?" Marcus squinted, something skeptical in his voice.
Percy chuckled nervously. "Er — only your facial features."
Marcus huffed and let up, but there was an imperceptible twitch of his lips. Percy took it as a win, breaking that impassive facade. "We should get back on."
"Uh, what?" Percy stuttered, slow on the uptake.
"The broom?" Marcus spelled out slowly. "Let's try again. Even you should be able to mount it from the ground, no?"
Percy bit his lip, pointedly ignoring the attempt to get a rise out of him in favor of scanning the pitch for his broom. They both knew this was a one-off, and that Percy'd never failed at switching before, but apparently Marcus just couldn't help himself.
"Mine's right here," Marcus pointed out, getting up easily enough and mounting his broom. He looked expectantly at Percy, and Percy quickly followed, getting on the back and leaning forward. He folded his arms and rested them on Marcus' back, and Marcus shook his head. "Should've just held on," he tsked before taking off — fast, like he'd promised before.
Somehow, that was the event that struck the most fear in Percy's heart that day.
The fall replayed in Marcus' head like clockwork; it made him realize a few things that were somehow scarier than risking his life and mobility to break Percy's fall.
For one, he hadn't thought twice about doing it. As soon as he'd realized that Percy was no longer level with him — 10, 30, 50 feet below him in less than 3 seconds, he immediately darted down with his broom, realizing quickly that a controlled broom had nothing on gravity.
It was strange, seeing Percy's robes billow about him and his strangely serene face as they came closer and closer to the ground, and all that went through his brain was that Percy would break. He was fragile, delicate, and would crumble on impact. For a moment, Marcus wished he'd never bullied him into ditching the protective padding.
He'd thrown himself off and reached Percy right before impact, twisting them around and only partially bracing himself. At least he covered his head a little.
But he'd soldiered through a fall like this multiple times, even though it had never been with a person landing on top of him. And what was a throbbing head and sore tailbone when Percy's hands were touching all over his face, somehow still warm after hours of racing through the wind. When Percy's warmth was blanketing his body like he was hugging a teddy bear? When Percy's breath was tickling his face and he could feel their near identical racing heartbeats, pulsing in tandem?
He'd told him to get off, but he really meant, "We should do this more often. We should do this all the time. You feel really nice on top of me."
And when he'd caught Percy staring at him like... like he was something to be stared at? It felt nice, real nice. Flattering, but the kind that had his stomach filling with butterflies and his chest feeling light and fuzzy. Marcus felt worth something to someone who was worth something to him.
Again, it was a foreign feeling for him to place value in relationships and people more than a basic human connection, but he'd be lying if he said that Percy wasn't one of the most valuable things in his life. Hell, his life was basically school, quidditch, Percy, and he didn't even mind. In fact, he liked it that way.
It was simple, nice, and enjoyable. The only complicated thing was, well, that he felt that he liked it too much. He had everything he should want, and wanted more.
Everything kept reminding him of that fact. His team asking when the next practice would be; he didn't know, he just wanted to go flying with Percy. When he'd get the (now) rare A on his potions assignment, he was almost giddy to get back and go over it with Percy. The worst was probably when his roommates discussed which girl they'd try to bring to Hogsmeade the next weekend; he wished he wanted to bring a girl, but he just wanted to bring Percy.
It was strange, but what did it all mean? Deep down, Marcus knew the answer, but he didn't want to confront it until he was forced to.
The time came sooner than he'd have liked.
One day, Marcus had brought charms homework with him to the library to confer with Percy. Now that he was doing well enough with potions, they could branch out a little so that all of his grades improved. He aimed for EEs at the least, which would've sounded outlandish to him at the beginning of the year but now sounded achievable.
"Remember when you used to not want to be here? Look how far we've come," Percy joked as he readily accepted Marcus' work.
Marcus scoffed as he took his seat. "I never not wanted to be here! I approached you, didn't I?"
"I guess you did," Percy smiled in concession.
"And besides," Marcus continued, getting out a quill and ink. "You had to be better than Farley."
"I'm sure Gemma wasn't that bad," Percy defended her weakly. What did he know about her merit?
Marcus rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, she's not around. You don't have to defend her." Before Percy could reply with some crap about being respectful and kind even when someone wasn't around, Marcus added, "Even she knew she wasn't good, which is why I have you now."
Percy didn't say anything, opting to circle and underline things on Marcus' paper. "I'm actually surprised you took the initiative," Percy commented suddenly while he was still in the middle of the page.
Marcus grunted, looking up from where he was digging his quill into the table to try and make a hole. "Me too, actually. But I was afr — I didn't want to be tied down to some low-level-nepotism lifestyle because I'm not good enough to publicly represent the family without bringing ridicule or shame due to my being a dumb arse."
"That's... admirable," Percy nodded, and he actually sounded surprised. Marcus tried not to be offended. "And I don't know if it's too late to tell you this or if it makes you feel any better, but I think there are more socially damning things than being a moron."
Marcus snorted. "Like what?"
Percy thought for a second, a smirk blossoming on his face. "Well, I was going to say something taboo, like incest, but that's not really socially damning in the pureblood world, is it?"
Marcus shook his head. "Nothing to laugh about, Weasley. We've all got a little cousin blood in us."
Percy wrinkled his nose. "Don't remind me. Out of all things they could've normalized..."
"Your family weren't always blood traitors," Marcus reminded him. "No pureblood is innocent."
Percy waved him off. "Yes, yes. Blood purity, inbreeding, et cetera."
Marcus could understand Percy's quickness to try and separate himself from that part of being a pureblood, but it was amusing to poke fun about it. In any other situation, he would've shut up and agreed.
As Percy finished marking up the charms, Marcus' mind wandered back to the question. What was socially unacceptable in the pureblood world?
When Percy finally slid the parchment over, Marcus had gotten an idea. It was reckless, way too close for comfort, and could give away his dilemma should he not be careful, but it was already out of his mouth before he could stop it:
"What about homosexuality?"
Percy paused, pressing his lips together with a frown. "Concerning the last topic? Because that's got nothing to do with charms..."
"Charms can wait," Marcus said, pushing the parchment some ways away. "We should have more casual conversations."
"Hmm, a casual conversation about homosexuality being socially damning..." Percy said slowly, posed as a thought out loud but more just to emphasize how ridiculous it sounded. "Well, I'd say it must be a matter of heirs for purebloods."
Marcus thought a second. "I could agree. I've got an uncle or two who married, had kids, and openly admit to having male concubines. And, I guess nobody really cares."
"That... sounds like a major waste of everyone's time," Percy cringed at the idea. "No use in trying to hide who you are long enough to make somebody marry you, have your children, and then embarrass them with public affairs in some kind of sick simulacrum of being who you truly are."
"I agree, but... maybe it's not that easy?" Marcus tried tentatively. He couldn't imagine openly being with males sans kids in his family, and if he truly felt how he thought he felt... well, there's a chance he'd be hiding it his whole life.
Percy sighed, resting his chin in his arms. "I can imagine, but that's just the unfairness of it all. Right now, those are the strings attached to homosexuality. But I mean, haven't purebloods ever heard of surrogacy? So while it may not be the most damage you could do socially..."
As Marcus continued to listen to Percy state his views and thoughts, humming and hawing at opportune moments, he thought about his expectations when he first got them into this topic.
He knew that Percy would hold a few different views than he was used to (what with blood traitors being as liberal as they are about who they fornicate with), but he hadn't expected for him to be so... passionate about it.
Something niggled at the back of his brain as Percy went on and on, and it continued to grow and grow until Marcus was able to keep it still long enough to grasp what was being elucidated for him.
Wait a minute...
"Percy, are you a homosexual?" He asked, a little more blunt and deadpan than he intended.
Percy's mouth clicked shut, and he clenched his jaw. Apprehension grew on his face as he scanned their surroundings before he said anything, and Marcus already had his answer before anything was even said. What kind of non-homosexual reacted like that?
"I didn't know," Marcus said, apologetic. He'd save both of them the trouble.
Percy sat up so that he could speak properly without his chin digging into his arms and hindering his jaw movement. Or maybe it was so that his eyes could be level with Marcus'. Whichever, the change in posture demanded attention, and Marcus strained his ears to hear what Percy would say.
"I don't talk about it, but I don't hide it," he explained quietly.
Marcus almost gasped, suddenly remembering. "But... didn't you date Clearwater."
Percy's face screwed up, but he nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, and well... I think girls are attractive, but that's about it. I don't see myself ever liking one that much, but I guess I'll just wait and see."
Marcus' brain short-circuited, and his stomach churned. That kind of sounded like...
"Anyways, now that we got that out of the way, we can do charms," Percy quickly changed the topic, pushing Marcus' discarded work toward him.
Marcus readily accepted it and the topic change, no time for thought-provoking and world-changing self-discovery at the moment.
"I — I hope this doesn't change anything between us. How you see me, or whatnot," Percy told him sheepishly when it was time to wrap up. They couldn't go flying that day because Percy had to make up some rounds that he'd spent in the infirmary after getting a nasty cold from a particularly long flying session, so that was pretty much the last time they'd see each other talk that day.
Marcus simply shook his head, pointedly ignoring how the whole situation had his mind in a whirlwind shaped like Percy. "Of course not."
Percy flashed him a grateful smile, and Marcus wondered how such a positive show of emotion could hurt his heart so bad. "Was worried you were going to get all weird on me."
"Never," Marcus assured him. He meant it.
They'd be okay.