Auction: Healer
Character Appreciation: Keeper
Ami's Audio, The Gregathalon: challenge, Oliver, "Everything hurts."
Word Count: 476
In theory, being the team Healer for Puddlemere is a pretty good job. It pays well, plus Seamus gets to attend Quidditch matches for free.
Unfortunately, having an accident-prone playing for the team makes it less enjoyable. It doesn't help that Oliver tends to see each match as some great challenge to conquer, some new opportunity to push himself further. Seamus has lost count of the number of times his boyfriend has ended up under his care during a match.
Seamus keeps his eyes on the chaos in the air, watching as Oliver blocks the Cannons' Chaser nimbly. He looks majestic up there, guarding the goal posts with a grace that none can rival.
But it takes only the blink of an eye; Seamus doesn't even see it happen. One minute, Oliver is in position, doing his thing. The next, he's falling, still clinging to the Quaffle. There's no stopping him, but someone casts a cushioning charm, breaking his fall.
Seamus runs to the field, trying to separate work life from his personal life. In this moment, he has to be a Healer, not Oliver's boyfriend. He knows all too well that letting his feelings for the Keeper cloud his judgment will only make things worse.
He waves his wand and mutters a spell to carry Oliver off the field. As he guides Oliver along, he hears the Captain request a time out. Seamus only hopes he can have Oliver back in action. The team's reserve Keeper is good, but she doesn't have anything on Oliver.
"How are you feeling?" Seamus asks when they're safely off the field.
"Everything hurts," Oliver answers with groan. "I think I'm dying."
Seamus rolls his eyes. Oliver doesn't know how to get injured without being dramatic.
He carefully examines his boyfriend, being as gentle as possible and making an evaluation. Oliver hisses and groans with each touch.
"Contusions," Seamus reports. "Broken wrist. And your shoulder has a crack in the bone. Could have been much worse."
He searches through his vials of potions and remedies before grabbing a bright blue liquid and removing the stopper. "Open."
Oliver wrinkles his nose. "Do I have to?" he asks. "That one tastes funny."
"Would you rather sit out the rest of the match?"
Grudgingly, the older wizard opens his mouth, allowing Seamus to drip the potion onto his tongue. He swallows, grimacing. "Disgusting."
"Stop getting hurt, and it won't be necessary," Seamus reminds him.
Oliver offers him an almost contrite grin. "How about a kiss for good luck?"
Seamus rolls his eyes but leans in, kissing Oliver gently. "Go win," he says.
His boyfriend salutes before dusting himself off and marching back onto the field. Seamus watches, unable to fight a smile that tugs at his lips. Hopefully the next time he sees Oliver will be after match when they're out for dinner.
