“The kitchen looks like a troll went through,” Percy groused, setting the dinner dishes in the sink. “It would be ever so much easier if you cleaned as you went, rather than leaving everything out.”
“I was going to put stuff away the same time I did the dishes,” Neville replied. “The important thing is that it will still be clean by bedtime.”
“It still looks messy,” Percy said.
Neville stifled a sigh. He loved Percy, he really did, but the two weeks since they’d moved in together had been an adjustment for both of them. Neville had a perfectly functional organisational system where he had a place for everything and everything in its place. He didn’t lose anything as he’d done so often as a child, and despite a few mental glitches here and there Neville didn’t forget things nearly as often. It was a good system.
Percy wasn’t merely organised, he was tidy. No, he was fastidious. Neville kept their flat clean, Percy kept it spotless. Neville knew where all his clothes were in the wardrobe, Percy arranged his by colour and season. Neville only cared there were towels in the bath when he needed them, Percy liked them precisely folded and colour coordinated.
It had only been two weeks, though. Neville was willing to add neatness to the manner with which he organised his belongings. Eventually Percy would learn a bit of occasional clutter didn’t signify the end of the world.
Neville finished clearing the table and grabbed a dishrag. “I’ll clean the kitchen, since you cooked,” he said. “I’ll do my best not to leave any stray crumbs behind.”
“Neville...” Percy leaned against the countertop, meeting Neville’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you try, and compared to the other flatmates I’ve had you’re by far the best at housekeeping. I’m really quite fortunate.”
“I’m the best flatmate you’ve ever had simply because I don’t leave my dirty underwear or empty butterbeer bottles lying about?” Neville lifted an eyebrow. “And here I thought you moved in with me because you were in love with me.”
“I thought that went without saying.”
“I don’t think it can ever be said too often.” Neville turned back toward the sink and pulled out his wand, setting Cleaning charms on the dirty dishes. He started to wipe down the countertop, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.
“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.” Percy pulled him into a rough kiss. “I do love you, and I’m more than willing to put up with a few crumbs if it means keeping you.”
Neville let out a soft moan, unresisting when Percy resumed kissing him, hands quickly undoing their trousers and shoving them down into twin crumpled heaps on the kitchen floor. Warm fingers slipped beneath Neville’s pullover, touching and stroking, thumbs rubbing across Neville’s nipples until they hardened.
Whatever fussiness Percy maintained in his life ended when it came to sex, all inhibition falling by the wayside, lips and hands tracing Neville’s body until his own inhibitions crumbled and he cried out for something, anything to ease his aching need.
A bit of wordless magic Summoned the lube from the nearby bedroom. Coating his fingers, Percy turned Neville around, kissing his shoulders and the back of his neck while pushing two fingers into him, twisting and criss-crossing them until Neville pushed back to meet them. A moment later the fingers were gone, replaced by Percy’s cock, pressing inside and pumping slowly, angling his thrusts so that each one rubbed against Neville’s prostate. He whimpered at the stretch and burn, the incredible heat filling him, breath catching on a moan every time Percy struck the bundle of nerves, loving the way Percy loved him: slowly, deeply, precisely, everything focused on giving Neville mind-numbing pleasure.
“Touch yourself,” Percy breathed into his ear, nipping at the lobe. “I want to feel you come while I’m inside you...”
Neville obeyed, fingers curling around his length and stroking, gasping at the heat spreading through each nerve ending, welcoming the growing tightness in his balls as he neared orgasm. He came with a muffled shout, strings of semen coating his belly and splashing on the counter, spots dancing behind his eyes. He felt Percy ram into him one last time before stiffening, hands tightening almost painfully over his hipbones as he followed with his own climax.
Turning his head, Neville kissed Percy with languid, sated slowness, feeling a pang of loss as Percy slipped free of his body. “Look at the mess we made,” he murmured.
“Then I guess we should clean it up,” Percy replied. “As soon as we get our breath back.”
“Sounds good,” Neville agreed, leaning back against Percy’s chest. It wasn’t quite compromise, but it would do. They were learning.