oneman_onevote | Extremely melodramatic AU: The revenge!

Margolotta turns, resigned to the vagarities of the Igors. Despite their little oddities, no Uberwaldian worth mentioning would dream of being without one.

"Ah, Igor," she says briskly. "Ve have an extra guest. Tell me, do you drink... vine, my unnamed visitor?"

Puck bites back an urge to say none of yours, dear lady and takes his blandness from Havelock.

"As it happens, my unnamed hostess, I do."

"Very good," she says. "Igor, vould you be so kind?"

Igor is fixing Puck with the kind of look that communicates, quite effectively, jutht what are YOU looking at.

"Thertainly, madam," he says with dignity and an impeccable lisp. "I'll jutht nip down to the thellar, shall I?"

And, scraping a bow, he turns and leaves the room.

Havelock is mildly disturbed by this development.

He covers it by walking to the sword rack to put his rapier away.

(If he has to walk close by Puck in order to do this... well. Sacrifices have to be made.)

Havelock is exceedingly noble.

Puck is sure Margolotta won't miss it, but as Havelock passes he reaches out to brush the back of his hand with his fingertips.

They're warm.

Havelock is too, but it's the warmth you get from standing in a warm room, no more.

His eyes flicker sideways just once, to catch the brightness of his eyes, before he turns around, back to the fire, cautiously watching the other vampire.

(Because - he opens up and relaxes with Puck; but he closes off when there is danger, it's safer and easier to think. Having him here is a comfort-- he can't be so cold as he might be alone.)

Margolotta wonders to herself if either of them really think they're fooling anyone, or just don't care.

Probably the latter. Boys will be boys.

"Vell, gentlemen," she says pleasantly. "I hope you vill not be too offended if I leave you vhile Igor prepares refreshments. Havelock, be a good host."

It stops just short of command.

Puck saves his glower for once she has melted into the shadows.

Then he turns, somewhat sheepishly, to Havelock, looking like someone who has just released a long-held breath.

"... I couldn't help it, darling."

Havelock's muscles loosen just a hair as she vanishes, and he reaches up to unconsciously rub his forehead.

"It's all right," he says quietly.

Beat.

"You were initially very restrained, I thought."

You know. He didn't storm through the castle shrieking there can only be one, after all.

Edited 2010-02-16 00:11 (UTC)

"You are too kind," Puck murmurs.

He glances to him, expression sharpening-- strategic rather than wary or frightened.

"What ought I to do?"

"Don't drink anything she gives you."

That answer is immediate. Havelock bites his lip (catching himself just before he inadvertently draws blood) before continuing.

"I'm not sure," he says, voice low. He hates not being sure.

"Well that I knew already," Puck says, with a fond roll of his eyes.

He frowns.

"What would you have me do, I mean. Reveal what I am? Conceal that knowledge at all costs? Speak to her only in rhyming couplets?"

"I thought it bore stating," Havelock shrugs.

Then he looks over, mirroring Puck's frown for a moment.

"I don't like the idea of handing her your weaknesses. Keep it to yourself, perhaps."

You know, Puck could be an unorthodox wizard. Perhaps from Llamedos.

(He does look a bit elvish around the ears. For... good reason.)

He laughs.

It's the kind of laugh that says this whole thing's an adventure.

"Very well," he agrees. "If she asks, as I've no doubt she will, I shall make a series of cryptic remarks and then insult her hair."

Puck is, of course, a highly accomplished liar.

Havelock manages to quirk a smile.

"Excellent," he says. "I have no doubt she shall be stricken."

Puck beams.

And takes his hand, gently and without sudden movement, to bend and press a kiss to the back.

(He releases him quickly, lest Margolotta or that stumping Igor character should return at precisely the wrong moment.)

Havelock lets him take it without resistance, still smiling a little.

It slips a little at the reminder of where they are, but he shrugs reasuringly.

"She's not close by," he says. "I can tell that much."

If little else. These supposed vampire senses are not all they were advertised to be.

"I pray you, darling, don't tempt me," Puck murmurs, arching his eyebrows with a grin.

Then the smile slips, and he looks, if anything, almost hesitant.

He has taken a step back since kissing Havelock's hand, but no more than that; now he leans forward, just slightly, enough to make a difference.

"May I kiss you again, then?"

Havelock takes a moment to pause and worry. It's dangerous, he doesn't know what she plans, he doesn't know what either of them will do, and his self-control is still not perfect.

But it's better, since Milliways, since he tested himself, and he drank blood from the bar before leaving again, so at least there isn't that dreadful thirst...

"You may," he says softly.

Puck smiles, hooking a hand behind Havelock's neck and rising up on his toes (not too far, but he is on the short side), and slowly, slowly closes those crucial inches between them into no space at all.

Needless to say, this kiss is meant for Havelock's lips and not his hand.

Havelock loops an arm around Puck's waist to hold him up, as if a fairy that can fly unaided actually needs it.

But then the contact, and the warmth of his body held close certainly helps Havelock himself enough to justify the effort.

Puck sighs soft and contented when Havelock's arm comes around him, keeping the press of his lips soft but not-- quite-- able to prevent his own free arm from sliding around Havelock's shoulder and gripping just behind his shoulder blade.

It's not that it's a rough grip-- it's just that there is danger here, or at least it pays to be careful, and if he lets himself cling to Havelock as if he never intends to let go then it will be too easy to stay, stay, stay--

He lets the kiss break and drops his head to Havelock's chest, keeping his neck as out of the picture as he can without squirming.

It would be easy indeed to stay; hold Puck a little closer and listen to the beat of his heart, tempting and incredible.

It's probably as well that the fae breaks off first, and Havelock leans forward to press his lips to the top of Puck's head through tangled hair.

(It would have been this room, he thinks. Memory is hazy, but of course he was drawn here.)

He doesn't let go.

Nor does Puck, though after a moment his grip on Havelock's neck and back relax slightly; as if now that he's been assured he shan't be stopped, he doesn't have to cling so tight.

He can feel himself relax and sink against him, Havelock's lips in his hair. Though he hasn't any idea if this means Havelock shall be willing to have him near from here on out, or whether this bit of experimentation will only frighten him later and do more harm than good-- for now he delights in his embrace, and is quite willing to halt all questions together.

(Puck used to listen to both their heartbeats when they held each other close like this. Now he listens to his own.)

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