The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

Padril had asked the Room of Requirement for privacy, so he should have expected this, he supposed. The small room had a plush, red comfortable couch sitting its corner next to a fireplace which seemed only to emit a low, sensual light. The obnoxiously large bed on the side of the room had more pillows than Padril had dared to count, and when he glanced under the mattress he had blushed furiously for several minutes. There were a number of...interesting and creative items down there. The really impressive thing was the ensuite, which had a large shower with multiple shower heads and a large spa. The whole room had the scent of air right after a lightning strike- electric and invigorating. He really should have been more specific with what he needed from the room, or at least made it clear he wasn't here for sex- like the room had so obviously been used for before. Oliver would probably be really creeped out by the surroundings.

It was he who told Padril, quickly and in a quiet voice in one of the few moments that no one was around either of them, that they needed talk somewhere private. Padril had suggested the Room of Requirement, since almost every other room in Hogwarts could have a ghost or a portrait character overhear whatever needed to be said, or a Professor barge in on them. Oliver had nodded, told him to be in the room 10pm Thursday night and then just left. Now it was 10:05 and Padril sat on the couch, impatient and concerned.

Likely, Ollie was coming here to threaten or bribe him for his continued silence on their intimate conversation they had weeks before in the Kitchens. They hadn't really spoken since then, but Padril had paid more attention to Oliver. He had started Quidditch games a while ago to watch a crush, but Vivianna had caught him out on that. To start hiding which player he liked, he began attending ALL the games and training sessions, bringing classwork and telling people he found the game an excellent atmosphere to write in. Blatant lies, but Varnes would have difficulty discovering he was watching Oliver. He was a spectacular player, from what Padril could gather, and the Hufflepuff had himself doing sharp intakes of breath when he made bold moves. In the hallways, he started paying more attention to how he smiled, his jokes, his excellent butt. In brief, Padril had developed an adolescent infatuation. Knowing everything about Oliver he knew, that he doubted anyone else knew, in combination with the boys dazzling looks and the secrecy of the whole thing-

Padril bit his lip and crossed his legs. Fingers drumming on the arm of the couch. Oliver would tell him to shut up, forget about it, then Pad could go on his way. Or maybe Oliver just wanted someone to talk to about these things. The Hufflepuff really had no clue what to expect. He had been thinking about it so much he hadn't really considered changing out of his uniform since class. His cloak was folded neatly on the arm of the couch, so the boy just adjusted his tie while he waited.

"Crap," Oliver muttered under his breath as he paced back and fourth in front of the room of requirements. He wondered why he had told Padril the needed to talk in the first place. he wondered what he was thinking when he did so. "Crap," he said again, shaking his head.
Turning the fifteen year old looked at the door, that had appeared. Slowly he reached out his sweaty nervously shaking hand touching the cool door knob. He had to go in. Taking a moment to regain himself he opened the door and stepped in side.
"H-hi," he stammered unsure what to do now. ideally he ran his hand through his hair as the door disappeared behind him.

Oliver stepped into the room, looking nervous and a bit confused, which left Padril perplexed. This whole conversation was his idea, what was there to be nervous about? Unless the boy just felt horribly awkward about trying to kiss the Hufflepuff last time. Ollie still didn't know that Padril was so inclined, compounding his shame. Padril allowed his guilt in his stomach to rise a little. If he had just told Oliver the truth in the Kitchens, maybe he could've saved the boy all these troubled feelings he had over the last few days.But something had stopped him, a something that Padril had been thinking about a lot recently.

"Hi," he said simply, crossing his legs comfortably on the couch. "So when I asked the Room for a private place, this is what I thought I had in mind. I mean, it's probably what students have been using for decades for their own 'privacy' I guess, but I wasn't expecting this. I'm not really sure what I was expecting. Some Cold War era secret room? Speaking of, don't look under the bed. My last vestiges of innocence were eradicated with a single peek." The boy wasn't used to talking so much about idle things, but if it made Oliver a bit more comfortable, sure, why the heck not. He'd been practicing before Oliver came in anyway.