milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Giles was in the bar. He still had the book of Enochian magic, but there was also a book of binding rituals.
Also the Silmarillion, and a book on Sumerian rituals of binding as well.
There was also a bottle of scotch and a glass on the table. The bottle and the glass definitely look used.

Hmmm... dare you approach?

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He laughs.

"Oh, rarely am I accused of wisdom," he drawls, "and am likely not fit to teach anyone.

"Is it you who calls himself a teacher?"

"The wisdom of time's experience then?"

Giles nodded, still leaning forward, "I have been, among various functions and positions."

Oh, Puck's forward too.

"Really? What other positions have you held?"

Giles' eyebrows went up again at this, but he remarked, "Oh, trainer of physical disciplines and prowess, researcher. And I perform in my spare time on occasion, guitar, and I sing. To name a few."

Why the eyebrow-raising, Giles? Puck is totally innocent.

"Flexible?"

Yeah right. But Giles didn't seem to care right now.

He finally answered, "...Yes, I've had to be as such, and can be so when the situation warrents it."

Puck chuckles softly into his glass.

Giles leaned closer still, and inquired softly, "Something on your mind?"

He tilts his head, eyes (now a bright amber shade) meeting Giles'.

"Can you guess?"

Giles blinked at that, but stared back anyway.

"I probably don't have to."

One slim finger slips under the Watcher's chin.

"Clever."

Giles doesn't shie away from the contact.

"So I've been told."

Puck smiles, finger trailing lazily down Giles' neck.

"And what are you thinking of?"

Giles just seemed to smirk at that, obviously not caring at the change in conversation.

"Guess."

"Oh, I could," the fae assures him, "but I do so hate to be wrong."

Giles leaned in very close, and almost whispered, a low dangerous tone in his voice, "I still haven't said you are. What if you're right?"

His eyes glitter at the change in tone.

"Mmm," he replies, scarcely a murmur, and the finger brushing over Giles' neck comes up to trace his bottom lip.

There may have been a teasing tip of tongue at Puck's finger, and two hands grabbing Puck's upper arms with a sudden firm force.

Puck doesn't resist-- out of curiosity, perhaps, and his smile is bright and fierce as he leans forward to give a kiss that tastes of scotch.

And there's a forceful, answering kiss back, likewise tasting the woody flavor of scotch, predatory and almost attacking in nature. Giles' eyes glinted dark blue.

Of course, Puck is stronger than Giles-- his slight appearance belies fae strength-- but he doesn't move to free himself of his grip. His tongue darts into Giles' mouth and out, and he tilts his head to nip at the base of his neck.

Giles held on anyway, almost daring the fae on.

He made a sound of surprise at the nip at the neck, and ordered, "None of that."

But then he added, "Anywhere but the neck." Leaving the options completely up to Puck on what that anywhere can mean.

If he's surprised, it doesn't really show.

"Anywhere?" he repeats, and it's practically a purr.

In the blinking of an eye, he's slipped out of Giles' grip like smoke and is leaning against the back of his chair; one hand catches hold of his arm while the other splays out over his chest.

"If you want to catch me, Rupert," he says against his ear, "you'll have to hold a little tighter."

Giles smirked darkly at that, leaning back toward Puck, "Unless I wanted you to catch *me*?"

His eyes likewise glittered, "Anywhere and everywhere."

Puck chuckles into his ear, fingers closing over the fabric of his shirt. The fairy's eyes are bright and sharp, filled with bits of broken glass that catch the light.

"That's no safe thing, Rupert Giles," he murmurs. "You're clever enough to know better."