There's a faint twitch to Q's lips and he looks away as Wesley sends them gently sailing over the ice. That simmering warmth he'd been ignoring since having the cocoa grows in his stomach and his fingers tighten a moment around Wesley's hands, right as a light shiver goes down his spine.

Wetting his lips, he suggests quietly, "It might be best if we left now. I wasn't joking about the cocoa being drugged."