Authors:lee_west and ceria Rating: NC-17 Summary: Written for the AWDT prompt, “You started it.” Another Quidditch game and a hot date afterwards. Disclaimer: We don’t own the boys at all; if we did, their story would have a happy ending. And obviously we aren’t rich enough to own a Quidditch team or a gay bar. The title belongs to Lerner and Loewe. Warnings: Chan-ish - but the minor in question isn't innocent at all!
Kingsley opened his wardrobe and looked at his clothes carefully, finally selecting an outfit, which he laid on his bed. Then he took another of his long showers, an extremely common occurrence these days. Ever since he saw Gideon again at the match, after so many years, he’d been wanking more than ever.
He had to get Mr. Prewett in bed, just to get it over with. The fact that Gideon just plainly refused to have sex with him because of a technicality drove him insane.
Feeling a little strange, he dressed carefully, fastening his robes tight around his neck. He’d probably be hot, but he was going to a Quidditch match on a gift ticket, so he knew he had to look the part.
And probably Mr. Prewett would be very happy and feel safe seeing him in those horrid shapeless clothes.
He kissed his mother goodbye, smiling when she said that he looked quite dashing and stepped into the Floo, after reminding her that he’d be sleeping at his grandfather’s home.
Alastor Moody was the strictest trainer Fabian had met in the Auror training program. However, he had learned years ago to not question Moody's motives. It was often detrimental to his health.
He'd promised Moody last week to help with the stealth and tracking portion of the training this morning. A firm believer that evil didn't take Saturdays off, Moody had his third-year trainees running drills before the sun rose. Truth be told, helping Moody was Fabian's favorite part of the curriculum for the program.
During the stealth training, Fabian and Gideon both served as The Bad Guys for Moody's apprentices. Gideon loved hexing the ickle boys and girls that wanted to become Aurors. The Prewett brothers were known for not losing any duel, any battle, on the training grounds. By the third year of apprenticeship, the Aurors-to-be began counting how long they lasted against them.
Last year, Williamson lasted four hours and was almost to the end of the course when Gideon caught him. He still didn't land a hex on either brother. Moody had enthusiastically congratulated the boy. Fabian was curious about next year's trainees. He'd seen the list of future Hogwart's alumni that were about to be accepted into the program.
Arriving at the pitch, Fabian was surprised to find Kingsley Shacklebolt in the stands. Not only in the stands, but in the seats reserved for family. As he drew closer, Fabian schooled his face to pleasant surprise, wondering what in the hell Gideon was up to.
Shit! Kingsley thought when he saw Fabian approaching. He had figured out he was sitting in the family section, but he didn’t expect to see the older Prewett brother there. He liked Fabian all right; his father talked very highly of the young Auror and they got along very well. This was one of the reasons he wasn’t too happy about the other man’s presence; he sensed that Fabian would give his father a full report on Kingsley the next day. Auror bonding and all that.
Worse than that, if Fabian knew about him and Gideon, he’d probably agree with his brother that they had to wait until Kingsley’s birthday. As far as Kingsley was concerned, Gideon didn’t need any such support.
Worst of all, Big Brother’s presence put the best part of the date in jeopardy. Kingsley couldn’t see Gideon going dancing with him and leaving his brother behind. He felt very uneasy about this last part. Suppose Gideon decided to invite his brother to join them? I won’t go, then. I’ll claim an upset stomach or something like that, he thought, while he plastered a congenial smile on his face and rose to shake Fabian’s hand. “Hello, Mr. Prewett. Nice to see you again.”
Fabian had to admit Kingsley was a polite young man. "Hello Kingsley. Gideon gave you tickets then?" They were his brother's tickets, and since Arthur and the boys never deigned at attend, they were going to waste either way. In all honesty, Fabian didn't mind the company.
He looked around, "Where's your girlfriend? Your dad said she was a Quidditch fan herself."
“My girlfriend?” Kingsley asked with sincere surprise. Then he remembered that he probably meant Marlene. “You mean Marlene? She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just very good friends. She likes Quidditch, yeah. Plays quite well, too.” He smiled a little uncomfortably, wondering if Fabian had told his father what he’d seen at the ice cream parlor. He imagined that the answer would be yes – McIntosh seemed to have warmed even more to the idea that Marlene and Kingsley were an item after that day. In order to cover his discomfort, he pointed at the seat next to him. “Don’t you want to sit down?”
After they settled, Kingsley answered simply, “Yeah, Gideon gave me a ticket. I really like to see Sanders playing, you know? He’s probably the best Beater around. I hope to learn something from him.” He put his hand inside his robes collar. It was a little too hot.
"Sanders is amazing, a bit of a conceited git, but it's well deserved. He and Meg are almost as good players as Gideon."
Fabian grinned to himself, he was hard pressed to keep a straight face at Kingsley's confusion. He'd forgotten that teenagers didn't have girlfriends, simply shag buddies. Poor Kingsley looked so uncomfortable and Fabian couldn’t tell if it was from the robes or sun. Not that it was a hot day.
"Well," he drawled, teasing about the ice cream parlor, "You've picked your friends very well then."
Kingsley beamed. “Yeah, Gideon’s definitely the best,” he said, then immediately became serious. It wouldn’t do for Fabian to know that he had come to the game to see his brother. He was a little distracted, wondering if Fabian had noticed anything and was caught by surprise with the question. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t catch what you said - something about my friends?”
He pulled at the collar of those damn robes. Merlin, it’s hot here! Why did I have the great idea to wear these bloody robes?
"I was complimenting you on your choice of - friends. Your girlfriend… I mean your friend, the one you were snogging in Fortescue's? She's a beauty. Even Gideon thought so."
Kingsley was still tugging his robes, which Fabian found extremely humorous. He couldn’t imagine why the boy was uncomfortable. He almost acted guilty, though Fabian had no idea why.
"And call me Fabian, please. We're not at headquarters."
Kingsley felt the heat go directly to his face. He tugged at the collar of his robes once more and, not being able to stand it any longer, opened it at the very top. He decided that it was better not to make any more comments about Marlene. Maybe Mr. Prewett – Fabian – would forget what he’d seen at Fortescue.
It was a good time to change the subject. “It’s hot today, isn’t it, Mr. Prewett – sorry - Fabian?” He continued. “Are you sure it’s all right to call you Fabian?”
He chuckled, "I don't mind at all. I'm not that old yet as to take offence. And no, Kingsley, it isn't hot at all. Of course, some ice cream would be nice right about now.
"I'm surprised you wore robes. They aren't necessary, you know." Fabian tugged at the sleeve of his own robes; he wore light Muggle shirt and shorts underneath and was willing to shed the robe for the exciting games. He'd torn more robes bounding out of the seats.
"What are you taking this year? All the necessary courses for becoming an Auror?"
Kingsley shifted a little uncomfortably on his seat. “Well, I…I thought I had to wear them…you know, special tickets and all that. It’s all right. Actually, your idea of ice cream sounds great. There’s a stand at the entrance to the field. We’ll be able to make it there and back before the game starts. Or I can go and get the ice creams for us, if you prefer to stay here. And yes, I’ll be taking all the NEWTs for the Auror program. It’ll be a tough year.” He didn’t know why he was feeling so uncomfortable next to Fabian. The man was very nice to him and could actually end up being his boss in a very near future. He had to shape up and behave like an adult, not like a silly child.
He stood up, waiting for Fabian’s decision.
Fabian stood up, "Good idea there, Kingsley." He stretched, his back twinging painfully from the morning's exercise with Moody. Instead, he pulled up his robes to reach into a pocket. Fabian handed him enough Sickles for two ice creams and nodded toward the entrance.
"On second thought, if you don't mind? My back hurts. Moody's practice was rough today. "
Fabian settled back into the seat, looking around the pitch and the stands. The Harpies had several male fans, which didn't surprise him considering most of the witches were very attractive. He was curious to see how they aligned themselves with Gideon's team.
Still wondering about Kingsley's nervousness, he looked for the boy, his eyes following his progression to the stand. He could see both teams approaching the field.
Surreptitiously checking out Fabian’s arse, Kingsley tried to return half of the money to Fabian, but in the end gave up and accepted the gift. He had to run to the ice cream stand and back. He left thinking that nice arses were probably a Prewett characteristic. Fabian’s wasn’t bad at all!
As he was returning, he saw that the teams were about to enter the field. He loved to see them flying near the stands, so he sprinted towards his seat.
He handed Fabian his ice cream and sat contentedly, not noticing that, in spite of the effort, he wasn’t feeling that hot at all. The Harpies flew into the field and passed right by where he sat, and he gaped, ice cream half way to his mouth, watching the beautiful Harpies Chaser, with her lovely black hair flowing past. He followed her with his eyes, a silly grin on his face.
But then the Arrows flew in, and he saw Gideon.
Fabian had teased Gideon the prior day about the Harpies and whether or not he would be as distracted by them as the rest of the team. Fabian had some idea about his brother's preferences, but Gideon, who was reckless in every possible way, was very reserved in such matters and seldom spoke of it. Fabian had called him a fool several times toward the end of his sixth-year when he left Sabrina.
Now, Fabian realized that Gideon probably had chosen the best solution. Sabrina, who looked suspiciously like the Harpies Chaser that Kingsley was grinning at, had wanted much more than Gideon could have given her. He whistled loudly as Gideon and his team passed them, most of the players waving briefly to different friends and family in the stands.
Kingsley was still grinning madly and Fabian laughed at him. The Chaser was a bit younger than Gideon, and it wasn't surprising that Kingsley found her attractive.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he teased.
Gideon was passing right in front of them when Fabian asked a question about the witch. Kingsley followed Gideon with his eyes, especially when all he could see was the back of the red-haired man perched on his broom. Without paying attention, focused on Gideon’s arse, he answered, “Oh yeah, damn attractive!” and then realized that he had made two big faux pas: firstly a comment about Gideon to his own brother and then he had used his more colorful language in front of an adult, which was not done in the Shacklebolt Code of Conduct. He winced. His father would not be very happy when he heard.
“Sorry about the language, Mr. Prew-Fabian. I…got a bit carried away,” he said quickly, hoping that Fabian hadn’t noticed that the comment had been directed at Gideon rather than to the witch.
He felt hot again. Those damn robes… and he couldn’t take them off. Not now at least. He wondered what Fabian would do if he saw what he had underneath.
Considering that Kingsley acted as if he didn't like robes, Fabian was surprised he didn't remove them at first chance. But then, the young man standing next to him was doing all sorts of things that felt out of character to Fabian, compared to the times he'd met him before. Fabian internally shrugged. He'd simply note it and ask Gideon later.
"Don't apologize, Kingsley, she is attractive. I wonder if that's the witch who’ll get Gideon. Too bad he won't pay that much attention to her; she looks too much like Sabrina."
Kingsley let out a small sigh of relief; at least Fabian hadn’t noticed he had meant that his brother was bloody attractive. Well, the witch was, too.
He didn’t like the comment that Gideon could be interested in the witch, but then Fabian corrected it, mentioning a Sabrina. “Who’s Sabrina?” he asked. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t place it.
"Gideon dated a girl named Sabrina his sixth-year. She looked very much like that Chaser with similar brown skin and long black hair. I liked her," Fabian shrugged. "Apparently more than Gideon did."
Licking his fingers as he finished his ice cream, Fabian continued, "I will admit though, our sister didn't like her at all. That was a plus for Gideon."
He turned toward Kingsley as the captains took position for the start of the game, "But enough of that. How's your summer been? I know you've enjoyed your ice cream," he teased, indicating with a finger how some of it had fallen onto Kingsley's robe while he watched the players take to the field.
Kingsley smiled at the mention of their sister not liking the girl at all and that being an advantage to Gideon. He had never met Molly Weasley, but he had heard comments at home that she was a little boisterous. McIntosh never spoke ill of anyone, but one day he had mentioned to his wife that Arthur needed a lot of patience to deal with Molly.
He looked at his robes; he’d made a mess because he’d been ogling Gideon instead of paying attention to what he was doing. He hated being dirty, even though he would not be wearing those bloody robes once he went through the Leaky Cauldron and into Muggle London. Feeling young and inadequate once more, he asked Fabian in a low voice, “Would you mind casting a Scourgify?.
Once he was clean, he remembered that a question had been asked. “It’s been a great summer, actually. I’ve been spending some of it with my grandpa, seeing my friends, going to the movies… The only problem is that I’m dying to be seventeen and my birthday is almost at the end of the holidays.” He thought mischievously that Fabian would probably die himself if he knew one of the reasons he wanted to be of age soon.
It seemed that Fabian didn’t know that his brother was interested in – or curious about – boys, since he had mentioned the girl Sabrina and the Harpies Chaser as potential brides. Kingsley laughed silently and wondered what Fabian would say if he knew what he and Gideon had done in the dark alley in London.
Gideon paid little attention to the witch flying next to him. She was beautiful, with her brown, creamy skin and flowing black hair. Unfortunately for her, she looked just like Sabrina; while Gideon admired her looks, he couldn’t get into the teasing and flirting glances she gave him. Gideon spent thirty seconds admiring her as the game began, and then dismissed her in favor of playing. The Harpies won most of their games, or so Gideon believed, by distracting the men with flirting.
At first Gideon didn't understand her reasoning, but realized quickly she intended to harry him enough to keep him from scoring. If he'd been mesmerized at all by her looks, she'd have done well enough. Fortunately, Meg was a bit smarter than that. After the second close pass by his broom, pretending to look for the Snitch, Gideon cottoned on to her message.
Meg wasn't so subtle with Sanders; at one point she pulled the bat from his hands and whacked him herself. His counterpart, Alexa Arrice, was female and understandably not subject to such wiles.
* * *
"Your grandfather is a legend at work. Moody extols his virtues constantly. There's this annoying story he tells all third-year trainees, about a gargoyle and your grandfather…" Fabian shook his head, breaking off the thought as Gideon missed catching the Quaffle again. "That Chaser won't back off Gideon. He'll never score that way."
A moment later, Fabian laughed, "Way to go, Arrice. That's my girl!" Turning to Kingsley, he smiled, showing a set of perfectly white teeth. The Arrows’ Beater took out one of the Harpies Chasers, giving Gideon the space he needed to fly.
* * *
Forty minutes into the game, Arrice misjudged one of the Bludgers, sending it through a Harpy Chaser's broom. That left them three to two, and the lovely witch shadowing Gideon finally flew away, leaving him open to receive the Quaffle and score.
In one sense it was a shame; Gideon enjoyed the chase. On any other day, he would have managed to flirt back with her enough to score a date by the end of the match. Of course, he technically had a date after this game.
Which made him finally turn, almost an hour into the game, to look for Fabian. They were easy to spot, one tall redhead and a muscular black man with a shaved head. He grinned, hoping that his brother was giving Kingsley hell before turning back to the game at hand.
Arrice gave him the opening he needed, which Gideon used well, scoring the next fifty points.
“Yes, Mr. Moody’s told us the story. It’s funny,” Kingsley said, a little absent-mindedly as he looked at Gideon and the Chaser next to him.
When Arrice’s shot hit the Harpies Chaser, Kingsley jumped up, punching the air, and showing a fair amount of long legs encased in denim.
Fabian slapped him on the back. "Now all we need is dear Meg to find the Snitch," Fabian said hopefully, though chances were slim of that. The Harpies Seeker was actually very good.
Fabian stood and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. "Oh no," he muttered. Both Seekers were on the far side of the pitch searching for the Snitch. Meg needed to find it first or the game would be lost.
Watching the Chaser that had been attached to Gideon score, Fabian gave off a low whistle.
Kingsley cursed loudly, then apologized, when the pretty Chaser scored. The match was very exciting; he wanted the Arrows to win now, but he wanted to see Gideon score again, just to see the very sexy way he celebrated his points.
There was the downside that Meg usually flew quickly to Gideon’s side and hugged him, somehow spoiling the scene.
Kingsley was boiling and he unbuttoned his robes a little more, then realizing that he couldn’t and closing the robes quickly again, stealing a side glance to Fabian. He hoped the other man hadn’t noticed anything, or else McIntosh would know and give Kingsley a grilling.
He swore mentally again about the impossibility of Apparating. He had to come to a bloody Quidditch game dressed to go to a bloody gay bar later on.
Watching the Harpies, Fabian finally saw the two Beaters with platinum blonde hair and took a deep breath. "I'd love to take one of them home," Fabian commented, pointing to them. "I wonder if Gideon would be interested later."
Kingsley snapped his head when he heard the comment. “Interested in what?” he asked, panicking inside. Would Gideon stand him up for one of those Beaters? That would be a fucking rotten thing to do. He prepared mentally what he’d say to Gideon in that case.
Fabian shrugged, grinning at Kingsley. "I haven't talked to my brother much this week, been busy at work. But those blondees make me wonder what he's doing later. I think he said he had plans."
That made Kingsley feel a little better. At least Gideon acknowledged that he had plans. As long as he didn’t change those plans after seeing the Beaters… He wondered if he should tell Fabian that Gideon’s plans were with him. But then he would have to disclose what those plans were. To Fabian. Who would probably tell his father. The sheer idea of McIntosh knowing that Kingsley went to gay bars made him feel hot again.
In the end, he opted for a non-committal “Hmmm.”
Fabian realized just who he was talking to, "Sorry about that, it was out of line."
Kingsley still seemed nervous to Fabian, but he couldn’t understand why. Mentally shrugging, Fabian turned back to the game, in time to see the Harpies Seeker dive swiftly.
"Oh no!" he mumbled.
Kingsley was distracted, thinking about what would happen after the game. This had been a disaster: firstly he had to sit next to Fabian and be in his best behavior, then he had to wear those damn robes. He was feeling sweaty and wanted to take a cooling shower, but had no idea where.
And finally, Gideon might send him packing home, so he and his brother could take the Harpies Beaters home.
He heard Fabian’s mumble and noticed that the Harpies Seeker was honing on to the Snitch. He groaned aloud. His team was going to lose, to top it all.
She indeed caught the Snitch, causing Fabian to forget he was in public long enough to mutter a curse. Blushing, he apologized to the woman sitting next to him, wife of Gideon's fellow Chaser and Arrow's Captain, Winslow Victor.
"Come on, Kingsley. Let's go cheer up Gideon."
Kingsley stood up and followed Fabian. He had an idea or two on how to cheer Gideon up. Hopefully when he had shed those bloody robes…
He wrinkled his nose. He needed a shower, badly. There had to be one place where he could have one. If those professional Quidditch fields had locker rooms, he’d sneak in. He almost asked Fabian if he knew where he could go, but caught himself right in time.
The way things were going, Fabian would probably volunteer to cast a Scourgify. And Kingsley couldn’t stand the idea of being Scourgified again, just like a little child.
Fabian wondered again what Gideon had told him concerning after the game. He was sure that when his brother had Floo'ed him he had some sort of plans this afternoon or tonight. Either way, Fabian knew the other team would probably leave right after the match, depending on their coach. Too many fights and duels happened directly following the matches to allow opposing teams to commingle for long.
Gideon was, of course, with Meg, who looked right pissed about missing the Snitch. Having dropped her broom, she was making abrupt hand motions in his face while he calmly stood listening to her, nodding occasionally.
Turning toward Kingsley, Fabian whispered, "Look at Meg. She's furious. I bet the Harpies cheated."
They reached Gideon's side as Meg finally calmed down.
"The Referee didn't catch what she did, I take it?" Fabian asked Meg, clapping his brother on his back.
Kingsley nodded a quick “Hello” at Meg and immediately turned his eyes to Gideon’s. He looked very pissed, and Kingsley felt a cold sensation inside. Gideon didn’t look like a person who was looking forward to having some fun dancing at a gay bar.
Gideon refrained from rolling his eyes at Fabian. Meg had finished her tirade, and it was like his brother to encourage her to start again. "It's all good in the end, the Harpies haven't won enough games this season to make a difference in the final tally."
He was tired and sweaty, and trying to check out Kingsley without being too obvious. Kingsley looked slightly panicked. Of course, if he had to sit next to Fabian the whole match, Gideon shouldn't be surprised by the frantic look. What did surprise him were the robes. Shacklebolt looked incredibly uncomfortable.
Looking up at him, he winked at Kingsley, who was watching him, "Hello, Kingsley. Enjoy the game?"
"Heh," Fabian answered, "He should be a politician some day, or a lawyer. He's excellent at diverting questions he doesn't want to answer."
"I've noticed that," Gideon said seriously, a smile tugging at his frown.
Kingsley smiled at the comment. He knew he was good at avoiding embarrassing situations or revealing undesirable information. “Well, Fabian, maybe one day I’ll go into politics. Muggle politics,” he added as a joke. He wanted to pull Gideon aside and make sure that they would be going out together, just the two of them. And then get out of there, so he could get out of those hot and uncomfortable robes.
Then he saw something disconcerting: the two Harpies Beaters and the pretty Chaser were walking in their direction.
He really had to get Gideon out of there before one of the Harpies lassoed him. But before he could do so, Fabian waved at the women, beckoning them to join their group. They quickly accepted, and Kingsley had to admit that they were hot indeed.
Putting his arm around Meg and leaning close to her ear, Gideon whispered, "You'll have to take care of this one. I've got plans I'm not changing."
"You're going to leave Fabian, myself and the pretty threesome for the minor?" she teased back quietly, briefly kissing his cheek.
Smiling, Gideon stepped away from her, catching Kingsley's eyes again; it was a shame he couldn't have a moment to tell him that tonight wouldn’t change. "Plans are plans, my dear Meg. Besides, I promised." He smiled lopsidedly as if that explained everything.
He stepped forward to shake their hands, introducing the four of them. One of the blonde Beaters lingered over Meg's hand, smiling at her. Without letting go, Meg stepped toward her, excluding everyone from the conversation.
Kingsley squinted at Gideon when he leaned over to say something very private in Meg’s ear, and huffed almost silently when she kissed Gideon on the cheek. So Mr. Prewett wasn’t going home with one of the pretty Beaters at all. It was Meg. Again.
He avoided Gideon’s eyes while everyone was being introduced and immediately honed on to the pretty Chaser, whose name was Calista. He turned to her and didn’t pay attention to anything else that was happening around him.
He was furious with Gideon, but now he was dressed for dancing and if he couldn’t go to Shaft with Gideon, he’d go somewhere else with Calista. Smoothly, he struck a conversation with her.
“Great game. Congratulations, although you beat my team.”
She smiled at him, looking him up and down appreciatively. Good. he thought, Hooked. Glad you like what you see, darling. And you haven’t seen what I’m wearing under these robes…
“Well,” she said coyly, “You can always change teams.”
“Or not,” he answered, “But I can always support yours when you’re not playing mine.”
She grinned. “So I could see you in my games, rooting for me?”
“Definitely. Especially if you play as well as you did today,” he said, touching her arm and moving her a little away from the rest of the group. He knew he was not safely out of hearing distance, but Gideon was probably busy with Meg and Fabian could have a pick of the two Beaters. He adamantly refused to look at Gideon.
She covered his hand with hers. “Do you play Quidditch, too?”
“Yes, for fun,” he answered curtly. It wasn’t a lie, and, at the same time, it didn’t brand him immediately as a schoolboy.
“Oh. What position?”
“Beater,” he answered with a toothy grin, moving her hand to his biceps.
She squeezed them. “Hmmm…great Beater strength… Don’t you want to play professionally?”
He thought about the answer for only a brief moment. “No. I like to play, but a career as an Auror is more my style.”
“Auror? Wow, that’s really exciting,” she said, getting closer to him. “I want to visit the Auror Headquarters one day. Can you take me?”
He didn’t even miss a beat. “Of course. One day,” he answered, thinking sometime next year. It was time to change the subject anyway. He had negotiated a good curfew and he wouldn’t waste it because Gideon had decided to stay with Meg. “So,” he asked, also moving closer to her, “where do you go from here?”
Standing a step behind his brother, Gideon was extremely confused listening to the two similar conversations. Apparently, both Fabian and Kingsley had chosen to hit on the witches. While Fabian was a bit less self involved (and honest) with his conversation, it was as effective as Kingsley's. In a few years, when Kingsley could really mean the tripe he was spitting out, he'd have women lining up for him. Much like Fabian did now.
He didn't miss the irony of both conversations, with his brother making arrangements without Gideon, thinking Gideon already had something to do that evening, and the one that Gideon had plans with making new arrangements with the pretty witch.
Thoroughly entertained by watching the three of them hit on the witches; Gideon decided to let things play out as they would. He was getting tired of constantly reminding Kingsley he was interested.
Besides, the three witches would know better than to leave each other's side. Wherever one of them went, the other ones would, too.
Meg, still holding the hand of one of the blonde Beaters, brought the two of them closer to Fabian. While the four of them talked, Gideon backed up another step, willing to let them make their plans without him.
Finally looking up, she saw the raven-haired woman hanging off Kingsley's arm. Frowning, she turned toward Gideon, who grinned at her confused expression. "I don't know," he whispered.
The blonde with her, Jana, called for Calista to rejoin them. As her and Kingsley approached, Gideon stepped closer to Fabian, his brother effectively shielding him from Kingsley's line of sight.
Jana turned toward Gideon as their conversation lulled into silence and asked, "You're not joining us, Gideon?"
"Not this time, thanks," he said loudly. "I made plans for tonight last week. It would be rude of me to change them at the last minute."
"Are you sure?" she asked, “I can easily get someone to join us."
"No," Gideon said, "Not tonight. I was looking forward to my own date."
What the fuck? Kingsley thought, his eyes fixed on the enlaced hands of Meg and one of the blonde Beaters. Is she into girls, too? Or is this supposed to be a threesome? What the fuck is going on?
Then he heard Gideon loudly saying that it was rude to change a date at the last minute. Well, he fully agreed with that, but he thought it was quite rich of Gideon to make such a comment about Meg choosing the blondee Beater when Gideon himself had broken the date he had with him.
It was only when Gideon refused company and mentioned that he was looking forward to his own date that night that Kingsley grasped that Gideon was talking about their date. He still seemed too chummy with Meg for someone who had been stood up by her.
Great, Shacklebolt, you fucked up royally this time. he thought while looking for an escape. Calista was distracting him, scratching his biceps with her nails.
The good thing about being raised with a bunch of sneaky Shacklebolt cousins was that, as one of the youngest, Kingsley had ample experience in getting out of tight spots. He hated lying, often preferring to omit the truth, but he felt that the situation here was very dire and it would be entirely justifiable.
He looked at Gideon and asked, innocently, “Oh, you didn’t cancel our double date? I thought you had!” and immediately turned to Calista, saying apologetically, “Sorry. I had forgotten that. Another time, maybe?”
Jana snickered loudly, "It's probably better for you," she told Kingsley. "Calista here has been making it with our owner for months. He's a bit territorial of his property. You might have gone home missing a few important bits."
"All right there, Gideon?" Meg asked quietly as Calista tossed her hair and sauntered away.
Gideon smiled, "Go on, have fun. Fabian, I'll catch you tomorrow by Floo?"
"Sure, brother," he said, taking the girl's arm and Apparating toward their destination as Meg did the same.
Turning toward Kingsley, Gideon simply said, "You could have gone with the bird."
Crossing his arms, Kingsley replied despondently, “No, I had a date and it’s rude to break it at the last minute.”
"Really?" Gideon drawled, finally showing a little anger. "I'd have never guessed considering how long it took you to make new plans. I assume you figured that I changed my mind? That I might decide to go with them instead?"
Gideon wouldn't be surprised if he didn't get an answer, it seemed Kingsley often ignored the questions Gideon wanted answered. He flung his broom over his shoulder, obviously ready to leave. "Do you still want to go tonight?
“Yes, I did. I thought you’d rather go out with Meg. After all, you were pretty chummy with her, weren’t you?” Kingsley asked a little snippily. “And of course I want to go out with you tonight. If I didn’t, I’d have gone with Calista, boss or no boss.” He looked at Gideon up and down. “You’ve got to change, don’t you?”
Which left another dilemma. Gideon needed a shower. Kingsley himself looked uncomfortable and probably wanted one. "I didn't want to go out with Meg, or my brother. Though I'd have thought of something different than telling Fabian we had a double date. You need to remember he's very sharp, and this is something I don't want him figuring out."
Sighing, Gideon admitted, "Shower. Clothes. Yet another thing I’m unprepared for; how are we to manage that?"
“Well,” Kingsley said with a shrug, “he’s your brother; you find out an excuse. I had to think pretty quickly. Or would you have preferred I said we were each other’s date? That would go really smoothly, wouldn’t it?”
Kingsley was still smarting from the mysterious whispering in Meg’s ear and her kiss to Gideon’s cheek. It made him mad that Gideon still had the nerve to criticize him, instead of thanking him for saving their date. “How are you to manage what? You need to take a shower and change clothes. Do you have jeans?”
"I wasn't complaining, actually. Sorry 'bout that. You did come up with that excuse quickly, thank you. And yes, he's my brother, my problem. But what is our problem is getting to a shower.
"You look pretty warm yourself. Do you want to meet at the Leaky Cauldron in an hour or so? That's plenty of time for me to get back there."
“And where do I take a shower?” Kingsley asked flippantly. At that moment he hated not being able to Apparate. He could Floo home and change, but then he’d be in the same dilemma he was when he left for the game. If anyone saw him dressed the way he was under the robes, he’d never be able to leave his house.
He looked up and started talking, as if to himself. “I can’t go back home because I told my parents that I’ll be sleeping at my grandpa’s. And if I go to my grandpa’s home, he won’t let me leave. He’ll want to know all the details of the match.” He looked at Gideon, as if waiting for an answer and then he had a brilliant idea. “I can take a shower at your flat, can’t I? Then we can go to the Leaky Cauldron from there.”
It was an option, Gideon thought, just staring blankly at Kingsley. "I… I don't know what to say to that, Shacklebolt."
Frowning, he stared off into the distance, ignoring the people milling about. So far no one had approached them. It would be a convenience for both of them, but Gideon wasn't sure he wanted the peace of his flat disturbed by anyone.
Instead, he opted for honesty, unsure why he was choosing it, "I don't like taking people there."
Kingsley closed his eyes and counted until ten. Gideon was really tiring tonight. “Gideon,” he said slowly, enunciating each syllable, “I’m not going to attack you in your flat, if this is what you’re worried about. Your virtue will be safe with me. And I will not make a mess either. I’m very neat. I’m hot and I need a shower. If this makes you happier, I’ll stay on the street while you take yours, okay?” Then he added with a smirk, “Or you’ll have the smelliest date in the club.”
Blushing slightly, Gideon nodded once. It did seem silly when put that way. Stepping forward, he held out one arm, motioning Kingsley closer. He slung his broom over his other shoulder and waited.
"I can Apparate us both, if you want to do it that way."
Extremely happy about not having to use the Floo, Kingsley held on to Gideon’s arm and they Apparated.
Gideon whispered Alohomora to open his door. Dropping his broom into a wardrobe right behind the door, he leaned over to unlace his boots. Motioning Kingsley inside, he pointed out the features.
"It's really simple, this is the sitting room, the kitchen is through the arch on the right, and the shower is down the hall, first door on the left. Do you mind if I shower first? Just make yourself comfortable. There're drinks in the cooler."
Kingsley nodded, immediately unbuttoning his robes. He took them off and folded them carefully. Inside the robes, he was wearing tight jeans and a dark denim jacket, open in the front, and nothing underneath. He sat down on the sofa and unzipped his dragonhide boots, placing them side by side on the floor, tucking the socks inside.
He stood up again, to get a drink from the cooler, when he noticed that Gideon was staring at him, mouth open. “What?” he asked.
Dragging his eyes away from the bare chest, Gideon looked up. Slowly. "What, what?" he asked, not thinking clearly at all. The imp was smiling at him, in all his glory, with all those lovely muscles sticking out beneath the open jacket.
Sixteen, sixteen, he reminded himself inanely. It was embarrassing how a little muscle totally derailed any thought he might have.
Apparently dancing tonight wasn't going to be anything Gideon was familiar with. He had remembered to ask Meg about the place earlier in the week, but she didn't answer him with words, only peals of laughter. Gideon had a brilliant idea now why she didn't tell him. Obviously, she knew.
Then he remembered the little minx had stopped by two days later with a package for him. She had made him promise to not open it until Saturday. Sighing, he stood, Kingsley still close to him.
"You look great," he said.
The night was starting to look better, after the shaky late afternoon. Kingsley complimented himself on having decided to wear the open jacket instead of a sleeveless t-shirt. That would have been nice for the club, too, but he had wanted to be a little more daring, show more chest. The look on Gideon’s face made it worth having been hot the whole day long.
He wondered what Gideon would be wearing. They had originally planned to shop for jeans. He was very curious and hoped that Gideon had chosen well.
When Gideon stood close to him and told him he looked great, Kingsley had to contain himself and not violate the promise he’d made about Gideon’s virtue. Cockily he answered, “Thank you. Glad you approve. It’s for you.”
Swallowing loudly, he stiffened, forcing himself to stay away from Kingsley. If they were to go out, and go out they had to or Gideon would break his only rule where Kingsley was concerned, he had to walk away from that sexy outfit.
Closing his eyes, he counted to ten, then plastered on a fake smile and quickly excused himself to take a shower. Kingsley would have to fend for himself for the time being.
Hurrying to his bedroom, Gideon stripped off his sweaty uniform, dropped it onto the floor and grabbed the necessary items. He'd clean it up tomorrow.
Alone in the sitting-room, Kingsley walked around a little, getting a Butterbeer from the cooler. He wasn’t much of a drinker and he knew that he’d have to drink at least one beer at the club. He looked at the bookcase, picking up a book, leafing through it, then another, and finally settling for one on Quidditch. He sat back on the sofa, bare feet on the coffee table and read about Beater techniques while he waited for Gideon to finish his shower.
At least he could concentrate on something other than Gideon in the shower.
He'd always preferred warm showers to hot ones, which was probably good since he'd bet anything Kingsley would want hot water. Rinsing off the sweat and lathering his body took only a moment. Turning the water off, he stood in the shower, cold air prickling his skin, as he wondered what he was getting himself into. Again.
Meg had been delighted with the idea of the bar, for some reason, and Gideon was suddenly nervous about her casual comment that he would have a lot of fun there and it was nice of Kingsley to suggest it. They had been friends for two years, and while Gideon had never seen a devious side to her, he had a horrible suspicion that he did this week.
He hadn't opened the package she brought him yet, per her request. Considering what Kingsley wore, that open denim jacket with no shirt at all, Gideon realized he was in trouble that night.
Then he remembered their last date, and the startling clarity of the memories of the alley drove away all thoughts of Meg and clothing. Remembering how aggressive Kingsley had been was easy. His body obviously recalled, cock hardening quickly, which surprised Gideon. He wasn't one to dwell over sexual encounters. He began to wrap his fingers around it to relieve the pressure, but then frowned. What was the sense of it? He was smart enough to know what would happen the moment they were alone; this way at least he could control the location, and possibly what might happen. Changing his mind, Gideon let go of his cock, turned the water back on to rinse himself and quickly finished his shower.
Opening the package, he pulled out a pair of black jeans, mentally thanking Meg. He dressed, wearing pants just to vex Kingsley. Running fingers through his hair, he reached inside to remove another, smaller bag. Attached to the outside of it was a note in Meg's neat handwriting.
Enjoy!
Opening it, Gideon exclaimed, "What the bloody hell is this?"
Kingsley was twisting his shoulders uncomfortably. He wanted to take the jacket off so he could cool off before jumping into the showers, but didn’t want to offend Mr. Prewett’s sensibilities by parading shirtless in his precious flat. Merlin forbid! The man would probably call the MLE to arrest the semi-naked man who was defiling his place!
He would have to ask Gideon to freshen up his clothes. He knew it was all in his mind, that the clothes were reasonably clean and didn’t smell at all, but he was fastidiously neat about the way he looked. It was a pain being underage and not being able to do magic outside of school yet. He hated to remind Gideon that he was a minor.
But he had no choice. He pulled the sleeves up and opened the jacket a little more, hoping that Gideon would finish the shower soon. He had heard the water being turned off and had actually stood up, but then it was turned on again. Probably forgot to shampoo his lovely hair, was his thought, while he sat down and tapped his fingers on the book.
Then he heard a loud comment which he couldn’t distinguish. But it sounded angry, so he stood up quickly and went towards the sound, to find out what had upset Gideon so much.
Balling up the tiny shirt, Gideon shook his head. Damn Meg!
He opened the door when he heard Kingsley outside, not thinking about the fact he only wore jeans. Pushing fingers through his messy hair again, he thrust the… shirt into Kingsley's chest.
"I'm supposed to wear that?"
Kingsley was torn between leering at shirtless Gideon and the curiosity of finding out what had been thrust into his hands. Musing that leering might again be considered an assault, he lifted the piece of fabric.
It was a sleeveless mesh shirt, in a dark Slytherin green. He looked at it for a second or two, trying to imagine Gideon in it, not wanting to put the shirt right in front of the model. It was a cool shirt, and he was glad he hadn’t worn his; he didn’t want them to look like a pair of bookends.
The color would look fantastic on Gideon and the mesh would hide just enough to tease. It was a brilliant shirt and he was confused as to why Gideon had bought it and was all bent out of shape about wearing it.
“It’s an awesome shirt. Why don’t you want to wear it? And why did you buy it without knowing what it was?”
Shit! He did not want Kingsley in another snit over Meg.
Sighing, he told him, "I didn't. I told Meg about this place you're taking me to and that I probably didn't own anything appropriate to wear. She picked it out, on the condition I didn't open it until today.
"Damn her anyway. I had no idea she would do something like this. She likes you. That, or she likes torturing me."
He leaned against the doorframe, pushing his hands into his pockets, still frowning at the shirt in Kingsley's hand.
He smiled a bit as Kingsley's word sank it, "Awesome, is it?"
Kingsley’s face turned a bit somber when Gideon mentioned Meg. Meg, Meg, always Meg!, he thought wryly, even failing to register the connotation of the ‘she likes you’ that Gideon said.
He was about to suggest another shirt, when the sight of Gideon, shirtless and leaning against the doorframe, made him forget about his resolve. He held the shirt by the seams of the shoulder and put it against Gideon’s body, laying it a little over the shoulders so it stayed in place and smoothed it across Gideon’s chest and stomach.
“Yeah, bloody awesome,” he said hoarsely.
Was Kingsley petting him? Leaning his head against the frame, he stood still for a moment. The look of lust on Kingsley's face was clear, and Gideon simply watched him for a moment, enjoying the hands roaming across his chest and stomach.
"Should I wear it anyway?" he asked softly, the question ending the soft touches.
Kingsley looked at him blankly, and Gideon smiled, repeating the question. At Kingsley's nod, Gideon pushed himself away from the frame, standing on his own, putting them even closer together. They stood there, Gideon's hands fisted in his pockets, Kingsley's hands still against his chest.
He leaned forward, Kingsley's hands the only thing holding his weight steady, and stretched his neck toward him. Burying his nose in the soft skin between the jaw and ear, he nuzzled Kingsley's neck.
No matter how dirty Kingsley might feel, Gideon didn't agree. He leaned harder onto Kingsley's hands, figuring that he'd either push him away, or let him fall closer.
The little bit of resolve that still dwelt inside Kingsley’s brain disappeared as he felt Gideon nuzzling his neck. For him now all systems were go. He wasn’t really breaking his promise not to attack Gideon if Gideon himself was being so provocative.
He moved his hands from Gideon’s chest, the mesh shirt falling on the floor between their legs. He caressed Gideon’s stomach, then his waist and finally encircled the other man in his arms, bringing him closer, bare chest against almost bare chest. His hands never stopped their path up and down Gideon’s back.
He kissed Shaft goodbye. But it was for a very good cause. They could dance right here, in Gideon’s flat.
The hands on his stomach were tempting enough, but Gideon knew he was doomed the moment arms encircled him and pulled him close. Pulling his hands free from his pockets, he undid Kingsley's jeans.
In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought wildly, ignoring every intelligent sense he had. He pushed them backwards, Kingsley falling against the wall, spreading his legs as Gideon roughly pulled the jeans open.
From nuzzling to biting, Gideon sunk his teeth into the muscles at the base of Kingsley's neck; he pushed his hand inside, coaxing Kingsley out of the tight denim.
With the last bit of consciousness that was left, Kingsley congratulated himself mentally for having told his grandpa that he might be sleeping at a friend’s house. He lowered his hands, rubbing Gideon’s arse through denim, then quickly bringing them to the front and undoing the button and zipper of Gideon’s jeans. He put the tips of his fingers inside the waistband of the bloody pants that Gideon insisted on wearing, touching soft curls, then moving his hand back and finally touching bare arse.
He moaned loudly when Gideon brought his cock out and was lost between squeezing and caressing Gideon’s arse. With his hands trapped between skin and soft cotton, he used them to quickly lower Gideon’s pants down his thighs. While his left hand kept massaging Gideon’s buttocks, the right one moved to the front and fisted a hard cock.
Wanting what he couldn’t have, Gideon groaned. He realized they were in the middle of the hall and he didn't care. Pulling Kingsley's hand away from his cock, he pushed his hips into Kingsley, rubbing them together. He wrapped both of Kingsley's arms around his hips then pushed Kingsley's jeans lower. Gideon thrust against him, wanting to feel two cocks rubbing together.
"Don't want your hands," he mumbled, moving his face blindly toward Kingsley, kissing his jaw line.
Kingsley didn’t want hands, either. He wanted much more. He wanted to kneel down and take Gideon in his mouth, then push him on the floor and fuck him senseless. He tried to lower his body, but was held in place by Gideon, who obviously wanted something milder but still very satisfying.
Kingsley was all right with that. Actually, he was more than all right, using his hands on Gideon’s arse to press him closer; he grinded his pelvis against Gideon’s, turning his face towards the other man’s and kissing him deeply on the mouth.
He increased the intensity of the rubbing and the caressing, one of his hands squeezing hard on Gideon’s arse while the other found its way down the crease between the cheeks and touching Gideon’s balls from behind.
Kingsley released Gideon’s mouth for a second while he sucked on his middle finger; then he bit and licked Gideon’s lips, tongue moving inside the other man’s mouth, while pushing one wet finger inside Gideon’s body.
Briefly, he thought he’d be coming very soon, and Gideon would be all dirty again. He held his hopes high that they could take a nice cooling shower together.
As much as he was enjoying himself, Gideon realized he needed to end it quickly. The imp was too aggressive. Which was another matter Gideon needed to stop or deal with - not that this moment was a good time for it. Part of his brain niggled him that he started it this time, but Gideon was practical enough to know how any, every, date with Kingsley would end, no matter how much the bar might have delayed it.
When Kingsley broke off the kiss to wet his fingers, Gideon should have realized what was next. The shock of feeling one finger inside him was negated by Kingsley's clever tongue. The intimacy tempered by their grinding hips and loud moans, Gideon wanted them to stop as reality crashed around him, drowning him as sure as a wave of cold water.
Breaking off the kiss, he leaned back and reached between them, roughly fondling Kingsley's retracted foreskin. He didn't try to remove Kingsley's finger; truth be known, he enjoyed it. Reaching inside the jacket with his other hand, he pinched Kingsley's nipples. He held his head away, wanting to watch, something he couldn’t do well in the dimly-lit alley last time.
"Come on, come for me."
Kingsley had been very ready, only holding back through self-control that he usually didn’t have. He didn’t want to come too early, not with Gideon. But the teasing of his nipples and the coaxing from Gideon’s voice, urging him to come for him took him over the edge. He threw his head back, hitting the wall, but not feeling any pain, as he came with a very loud gasp, his finger inside Gideon thrusting in tandem with his hips’ last jerky movements.
He tried to watch, but the pulse of the finger inside, a familiarity he wasn't fond of, yet would never tell Kingsley, made him come hard. Bracing his hand against the wall, the other being useless for the moment, he shuddered, bending over to rest his forehead on Kingsley's shoulder.
He wiggled a bit, unable to move and wanting space.
"I don't think we're making any bar tonight, Shacklebolt. I believe you've killed me."
Slowly Kingsley pulled his finger out, then with both hands caressed Gideon’s back. It was not something he would usually do. Normally he and his partner came and it was over. But his hands couldn’t stop touching Gideon. He caught himself as he was almost touching his mouth to the other man’s head. That would be even stranger. Kissing was for foreplay and during sex only. Never after sex.
These new emotions were making him uncomfortable, so he let go of Gideon’s back and pushed him gently away. In order to hide his discomfort, he laughed. “I’ve killed you? Nah. I think you’ll be ready for another round soon,” he joked. “And, besides, you started it, remember? I was quiet this time and true to my promise.”
He looked around, trying to avoid Gideon’s eyes. “But I think the bar will do you good. You know, once you’re there you get a second wind.” He looked down at himself. “I do need a shower now – and so do you. What do you say? You go first, I go first – or do we go together?” he asked with a mischievous smirk.
Gideon leaned his head against the wall; he could hear the truth of what Kingsley said, that indeed he did start it, after telling himself that wouldn't happen. The cold unsettled feeling in his stomach must be panic. Or else there was a Dementor nearby.
Gideon shook his head as Kingsley's words began to make sense; no more intimacy, for sure. "Go ahead. It's small in there and I'm not up to sharing. Leave your clothes by the door and I'll clean them. Towels are behind the door and everything you need’s in the shower."
He didn't look as Kingsley pushed away from the wall. Reaching down, he pulled his jeans up low on his waist, leaving the fronts open.
Kingsley pushed away from the wall and undressed, handing his clothes to Gideon. He walked naked to the shower and turned the hot water on, leaving the bathroom door open. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to hide. He had never been a prude anyway and he figured that Gideon had seen plenty of him already.
The water felt good on his body and, after rinsing the soap off, he turned on the cold water for a quick refreshing moment. Careful not to make puddles of water, he took a towel from the hook behind the door, dried himself and put the wet towel around his neck, walking towards Gideon to get his clean clothes. “The bathroom is all yours, Gideon. Thanks.”
He had eyes; he could tell the towel was around his shoulders. That damn imp – he left Gideon with only one option.
He Did Not Look.
Shaking his head at Kingsley's boldness, as well as his own constraint, Gideon simply walked past him. Shedding his clothes into a messy pile on the floor, he Scourgified them. Turning the water on again, he was surprised that Kingsley left him heat. "Nice, Shacklebolt," he murmured.
This time he dressed in the loo, careful to pull his shirt on; the mesh was a bit tricky and stuck to his skin, but he made sure it was on before walking out to see Kingsley.
It was still awkward, he decided, to have to actually face a shag after the fact. No matter that he was slightly? Potentially? friends with him, and the boy was in his flat. No wonder Gideon never brought anyone back with him. It was very awkward.
Instead of addressing it - which Meg would say that was typical of a man -- he breezed past Kingsley on the sofa and walked into the kitchen.
"I'm starving! Want something to eat?"
Kingsley was sitting on the sofa, clad only in his jeans, leafing through the Quidditch book again. When Gideon came in, he raised his eyes and smiled at the nice sight of Gideon in his clubbing clothes. Despite himself, he had to admit that Meg had done a good job; Gideon looked very hot in the mesh shirt and jeans.
He stood up when Gideon asked him if he wanted to eat. He was always hungry, especially after sex. “Sure. Can I help you make it?”
"Lunch meat and cheese are in the cooler, get what you want to add to it," Gideon said, searching for something to eat the sandwiches on. He pulled out two clean plates – his last two – and set them on the table. He was very odd about that habit; he preferred people to eat at the table. Fabian drove him nuts, often choosing to stand near the counter when he ate.
Helping Kingsley balance all the food in his hands and noticing that the young man wasn't kidding about being hungry, Gideon pulled out the rest of the bits they needed for dinner.
Kingsley set the various jars and containers near the plates. He was glad that Gideon was planning to eat at the table. He hated eating in a hurry. At home, his mother always set a nice table and stressed the importance of eating properly. He was particular about it even at school. While he ate a lot, it was always in a well-mannered way. For all his brashness, Kingsley hated lack of manners and often scolded the other students who were eating with their mouths open.
“Can I make you sandwiches, Gideon?” he asked, putting bread on the plates and opening the containers.
Would this boy never cease to surprise him? Gideon nodded, sitting at the table. He let Kingsley make whatever he wanted. Gideon wasn't a picky eater, never had been, and simply took the various jars and containers and closed them when Kingsley was finished with them.
He quietly put everything away as Kingsley finished, pulling out two drinks from the cooler, handing one to Kingsley before sitting back down to eat.
Watching him across the table, Gideon refused to acknowledge the simplicity of it. For all its awkwardness, it was very nice.
Kingsley was starved, but, as he was about to put his sandwich in his mouth, he noticed that there was something wrong. He excused himself, rushed to the living room and came back with his jacket on, buttoning it three-quarters of the way up. “Sorry, I forgot,” he apologized. “My mum’d kill me if she saw me eating shirtless.”
He took a few bites of his sandwich in silence, but then decided to strike a conversation. He could sense that Gideon was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t understand why. He didn’t recall doing anything wrong, and the only reason he could think of was that Gideon was feeling strange because he didn’t have much experience with men – or any at all before the times with Kingsley – and was feeling ashamed or guilty. He could talk about the game. That was a safe subject. “Good match today, Gideon. I really liked watching Sanders. His Beater techniques are the best.”
Gideon broke off his reverie to pay attention, "Did you know Sanders went to Durmstrang? He had this thick accent. It took me three practices before I figured out he was trying to say hello. It's improved, of course, over the last two years. They have a phenomenal School team; many of their players end up joining the national teams. We were lucky to get him. I won't be surprised if he's the next team captain."
They carried on an easy Quidditch conversation while they ate. Finally, Gideon stood, taking his plate to the sink.
Reflexively he paused as he walked by Kingsley, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. "Thank you," he said softly.
Kingsley had just taken the last bite of his sandwich when Gideon leant over and kissed his head. He sat frozen for a second, then chewed quickly and swallowed, before answering, “Not at all.” He then stood up, too and started washing the plates. “Will you be ready to go soon?” he asked Gideon. “The place gets packed.”
"Ready when you are," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, maybe I should brush this first. Be right back."
Five steps later, Gideon paused. Did he really kiss Kingsley a moment ago? Shaking his head at his odd behaviour, Gideon realized that many things had been odd these past two weeks.
He expected the bar to be another such experience. Or so he privately hoped. It wouldn't do to let Kingsley know such things.
Rejoining Kingsley, he held out his arm for Apparation. "Ready to go?"