17th February, 1892 — Equipment Room, Chudley Cannons Stadium
Cassius Lestrange
Cassius Lestrange
Oh. They had been doing this for the better part of a year. The thought struck Theo as he ducked into the equipment shed, waiting for the pitch to empty. He’d had a long tactical meeting with the coach this morning, then stayed to watch the team’s training in today’s damp, drizzly conditions, and now he was dragging out a detailed check of the newest equipment order that had been drawn up for him, as some excuse to loiter. He wasn’t paying much attention anymore as he scanned the coach’s list again, ran a hand absently over the loose seams of some of the practice quaffles from the shelves; and apparently he’d lost track of time, too, because when the door edged open, clearly Cash had found him first.
“Hey,” Theo said, face brightening into a grin. He tossed out a couple of the usual questions about how training had gone while he started tidying up the equipment he’d been looking at; but, at the first natural lull in the conversation, found himself unexpectedly changing tack. “Can I ask you something?”
He paused, suddenly nervous. Is this something, he wanted to ask. Are we...? Because they had never really broached the subject – and he didn’t think either of them had ever planned for this, either – but if their fooling around had ever been a casual thing (– and Theo wasn’t sure if it had, to him –), it didn’t exactly feel that way now. Or maybe he was reading too much into it, or had fallen too far into something, accidentally started to care more than he should. Maybe the feeling in his chest when he thought about Cash was going to eat him alive someday if it kept on like this, or maybe it would go away if he kept pretending it was nothing. (Maybe this wasn’t healthy, and he was just thinking about Cash too much.)
“This might sound stupid,” Theo warned, with a quick, embarrassed glance his way – it definitely sounded stupid, but it wasn’t as if he could discuss it with anyone else. “But do you – like men?”
“Hey,” Theo said, face brightening into a grin. He tossed out a couple of the usual questions about how training had gone while he started tidying up the equipment he’d been looking at; but, at the first natural lull in the conversation, found himself unexpectedly changing tack. “Can I ask you something?”
He paused, suddenly nervous. Is this something, he wanted to ask. Are we...? Because they had never really broached the subject – and he didn’t think either of them had ever planned for this, either – but if their fooling around had ever been a casual thing (– and Theo wasn’t sure if it had, to him –), it didn’t exactly feel that way now. Or maybe he was reading too much into it, or had fallen too far into something, accidentally started to care more than he should. Maybe the feeling in his chest when he thought about Cash was going to eat him alive someday if it kept on like this, or maybe it would go away if he kept pretending it was nothing. (Maybe this wasn’t healthy, and he was just thinking about Cash too much.)
“This might sound stupid,” Theo warned, with a quick, embarrassed glance his way – it definitely sounded stupid, but it wasn’t as if he could discuss it with anyone else. “But do you – like men?”
