Today's line: "Nuuumb. Oliver, my mouth feels weird. Why did you make me visit that awful, awful place?"
"So," Aidan ventures as they start walking hand-in-hand. "Icecream."
Oliver makes a noise of contented assent. He grew up in Edinburgh, and he sends a brief thanks skyward that their match had so happened to be so close to his home-town. "I know a nice place a few streets away," he says. "In the wizarding part of town."
The icecream parlour, thankfully, is still there despite the fact that Oliver hasn't been there in at least six years; Aidan takes one look at the sign propped up against the sparkly shop window that proclaims the icecream's 'special effects' and grins in delight.
On reflection, Oliver probably should have warned him about the triple-scoop ginger gelato that gives you the 'fizzing sensation in your mouth'. While addictive, he vaguely remembers long nights of trying to hide from his mother the fact that he had lost feeling in his tongue and couldn't speak properly.
"Nuuumb!" Aidan moans, clutching desperately at Oliver's t-shirt as they stumble back up the stairs to the hotel room. "Oliver, my mouth feels weird. Why did you make me visit that horrid, horrid place?"
Oliver, feeling a little tingly himself from the rum-and-raisin double-scoop, giggles as he watches the other man fumble in his bag for his keys. "You said you wanted icecream," he replies simply, tripping over a fold on the carpet.
The Seeker finally manages to thump the door open and almost fall inside, dragging Oliver in behind him. "This is your fault," he slurs. Oliver heroically does not laugh, remembering very well the difficulty the older man is having in forming words properly and it makes him feel slightly more relaxed about the fact that the odd word of his own is coming out a bit wrong. "The least you can do is kiss it better."
Standing awkwardly in the doorway, Oliver blinks at the former Slytherin while his blood runs alternately hot and cold. Then, before he can second-guess the decision or stop himself from doing it, he steps forward and places his lips gently on Aidan's.
They're soft, and they taste like ginger; he can't tell if they're burning because of the after-effects of the icecream or because kissing the Seeker is making his blood race around his veins in double-time; either way, he forgets to even try and breathe and when the other man finally pulls away Oliver gasps for breath like a man half-drowned.
"Better?"
Aidan grins. "Much," he says smugly. "I'll have to remember that remedy."