AN: Hey, everyone! I'm working on a lot of stuff right now (writing for friends, writing Top 5), but I really, really wanted to do something special this month: I really, really want to write some Christmas fics! I love the holidays, and I really love the holiday music. So, I've come up with fanfics, all based around different Christmas songs, this one being for the ever-famous "Baby, It's Cold Outside." I'm going to try to write one for Harry Potter (at least), one for Psych, one for Glee, one for Scrubs, and possibly one for Big Bang Theory. If you guys have any ideas or any requests, I would love to hear them. (Yes, I do write requests. )

So, to end my way-too-long author's note: I'm workin' hard, I'd love to hear ideas, and I really hope you like this!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood were perfectly content to stay huddled on Oliver's sofa well into the night. Were it not for his overbearing mother and far-too-observant brothers, Percy would have done so.

"I have to go," he mumbled into the Quidditch player's shoulder.

"No." Oliver clamped his arms more tightly around the smaller man, who laughed and pushed him gently away.

"I mean it, Ol. I really have to leave."

"But my apartment is so empty and boring without you," Oliver whined.

"I'm sure you'll live." Percy went to stand, but his boyfriend pulled him back down again.

"C'mon, Perce. It's freezing out there. Do you really want to have to head home in that?"

"I can Apparate."

"I live in a Muggle town! You can't just Apparate! You'd have to walk quite a way. And there's a blizzard on right now."

"I really can't stay

(But baby, it's cold outside)

I've got to go away

(But baby, it's cold outside)

This evening has been

(Been hoping that you'd drop in)

So very nice

(I'll hold your hands – they're just like ice…)"

"It's not a blizzard." Percy rolled his eyes and adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses. "Don't be so melodramatic. And it's not as though you won't see me again in a few days."

"I know. But I want to see you now."

"I can't stay!" Percy finally managed to disentangle himself and began searching for his scarf. "Mother always gets in a tizzy when I'm late, and I've used the 'working overtime' excuse almost every night for the past two weeks. And I'm fairly certain that Fred and George are starting to figure things out. Even Ron's been asking questions. If they ever caught wind of me staggering in at six in the morning, wearing the same clothes I'd been in the day before, I'd never hear the end of it."

"Your mum needs to let you go a bit, love. And who cares what your brothers think?" Oliver spread out, pouting. "Now come back over here, or I'll get cold."

"My mother will start to worry

(Beautiful, what's your hurry?)

And Father will be pacing the floor

(Listen to the fireplace roar)

So really, I'd better scurry

(Beautiful, please don't hurry…)"

"Stop being such an infant." Percy smiled in spite of himself. He adjusted his hat and kept his eyes on his coat buttons as he did them up – as long as he didn't look at Oliver, he should be able to get away…

Two strong hands slid onto his hips as he smoothed his coat's lapels. Oliver began placing light, gentle kisses down Percy's neck. The redhead had to work to suppress a shiver. "Ol…"

"Shh." Oliver moved his hands to Percy's stomach, his fingers working through the gap between buttons to lightly stroke at the strip of Percy's shirt beneath which, he knew, was Percy's treasure trail. "Come back to the couch."

"Maybe if you had a bed, I'd stay." With extreme difficulty, Percy's tossed Oliver's hands away from his middle. He looked out of the kitchen window and gave an involuntary shudder. "It does look quite nasty…"

"So stay."

"I can't!"

"You're going to be cold, aren't you?" Oliver asked, opening a cupboard. "You should have a drink to warm you up."

"What sort of drink?" Percy knew all too well the Scottish blood that ran in Oliver's veins – and the smaller man knew that he could never hold his liquor the way the Keeper did.

"Nothing too bad."

"I know what you think 'too bad' is, and…"

Oliver shoved a glass reeking of alcohol under the former Percy's nose. "Just drink." He gestured to the table. "And you might as well sit while you're at it."

"Ol."

"Fine. If you want to stand by the door while you drink like some sort of salesman, be my guest."

Percy rolled his eyes and sighed, but he still sat nonetheless.

"Well, maybe just a half a drink more

(Put some records on while I pour)

The neighbors might think

(Baby, it's bad out there)

Say, what's in this drink?

(No cabs to be had out there…)"

It didn't take more than a sip or two for Percy's head to start spinning. "Good lord, Oliver! What is this, pure ethanol?"

"Why? Are you going blind?"

"Don't be a git." Percy still takes another sip. Although he's the most responsible of the Weasleys, he still has the "anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better" attitude that seemed to get his siblings into so much trouble. "Really, though, what is this?"

"Firewhiskey."

"Wow." Percy had to unbutton his coat, then shrug it off completely. "I really am warming up."

"Perhaps I should help you cool down," Oliver suggested, grasping Percy's thin shoulders and starting a massage.

"Or perhaps I should leave."

"But Percy, look at that! You'll never make it a block, much less all the way out of town before you can Apparate. You don't have any Muggle money. How do you expect to get back in this weather?"

Percy looked out at the near-solid sheet of snow barreling down from the sky. He was warm, dry, and comfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to lay his spinning head back down on Oliver's chest. "I have to go," he said again, but Oliver could hear far less resolve in his voice.

Oliver sat across from him and smirked. "Percy Weasley, are you getting drunk?"

"There's a difference between drunk and comfortable. Why are you asking?"

"Nothing. Just, your eyes look… brighter. Happier. You know that?"

Percy tried to roll his eyes, but he couldn't stop blushing. His boyfriend's grin always managed to win him over. He stared at the table, trying to think of anything – anything – other than the incredibly handsome man only feet away from him.

"Come on, love. Take off your hat and stay a while."

"Absolutely not," Percy grumbled, still looking down at his hands. "If I don't get home, my mother will have a fit and take it out on the twins when she sees them next."

"Odds are that they deserve it. Aren't you going to Hogwarts soon, anyway?"

"To take Mr. Crouch's place, yes."

"Then stay! Who knows when I'll see you next?"

Percy snorted. "I'm not going off to war, Ol, I'm just going to judge a competition."

"Still." With quick reflexes that only a star Quidditch player could possess, Oliver snatched the hat off Percy's head and tossed it behind him. When Percy glared, he put on a fake pout. "Don't leave me here all alone. It's miserable, sleeping on my couch all by myself in the cold."

"I wish I knew how

(Your eyes are like starlight now)

To break the spell

(I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell)

I ought to say, 'No, no, no sir,'

(Mind if I move in closer?)

At least I'm gonna say that I tried

(What's the sense of hurting my pride?)

I really can't stay…"

With the glass of firewhiskey gone, Percy's world was just a tad fuzzy, but warm and comfortable. He looked up at his moping lover and smiled.

"You look rather pathetic right now, love."

"Because I don't want you to leave. I get lonely here at night, you know."

Percy looked outside, biting his lip. "It really is coming down right now."

Oliver looked as though he hardly dared to believe his luck. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"And it's so nice, sitting here with you…"

"Sure is, love. I know I'm having a good time."

Percy gave Oliver a tiny, mischievous smile. "My mother really does need to learn to let go. And so what if my brothers find out I stayed here overnight? I mean, I imagine they'd rather I stay somewhere safe than go outside and risk getting sick or injured. Don't you think?"

"Absolutely. It would be downright irresponsible to go out in this weather."

"Oh, certainly. I agree."

Percy stood, his head clearing ever so slightly. "Come on, then. Let's go cuddle up on the couch."

"Seriously?" Oliver was positively beaming. "You're actually staying?"

"Why not?" Percy took Oliver's hand, leading him back to the living room. "It's cold outside."

"(Baby, don't hold out)

Ah, but it's cold outside."