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It is dark and silent inside the sparse hallways of the Assassin's Guild.

Nevertheless, Havelock is even quieter and more careful than he had been outside. Assassins are creatures of the night, so running into another student or a professor is not at all unlikely.

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"It isn't," Puck assures him with a teasing smile.

"No," says Havelock with a slight smile.

"But you are unlikely to be deadly to me if I remain unaware of you."

"That depends ..."

Puck nips smartly at his ear.

Politely, "On what?"

Puck rolls his eyes.

"On how quickly you come to bed, dearest to my heart."

"Oh. I see."

And with a quick step he sits down on the small pallet by the wall. It is a good thing that both of them are slender. Havelock crosses his legs and looks up at Puck, expression vaguely blank.

Puck flops down beside him exasperatedly.

"Oh, Havelock."

Havelock... doesn't exactly do evil snickering, but there is nonetheless that impression in the calm blue gaze he turns on the fae beside him.

"Yes?"

The fairy suppresses a put-out expression and slips an arm around Havelock's waist, the fingers of his other hand walking down his chest.

Still slightly sour: "You enjoy this, don't you."

"A little."

Rare honesty.

His fingers pause meaningfully over his stomach.

Havelock may possibly be weighing his options.

"Do you not enjoy it?"

"Coquetry has both a time and a place, my darling."

"You shall have to inform me when it will be appropriate."

The fae leans close to his ear, tongue sliding slowly along the edge.

"I shall give you," he murmurs, "a hint."

Havelock turns to face Puck. Their noses are almost brushing.

"Oh, good," he murmurs back.

Puck chuckles softly. He's got to tilt his head up a bit to reach Havelock's nose.

Havelock smiles - slightly downwards - at him.

"I take it this is not a time for coquetry?" he asks after a moment.

"Oh, bravo."

"I like to be clear," he notes before kissing him.

Puck may have noticed.

He may have.

The fairy kisses back, tongue nudging lightly at Havelock's lips. His fingers dance back up his chest and trail along his collarbone.

Havelock leans in closer, lifting a hand to place it lightly on the curve of Puck's neck, stroking slowly.

Puck grins against Havelock's mouth and deepens the kiss for one hard, fast second before breaking off to breathe. His hands are skittering over his body, light and soft and never letting up.

Havelock runs the backs of his fingers softly over the smooth skin of the fae's neck, other hand curving around his waist. When the hand reaches Puck's shoulder he smiles and pulls him closer to press his mouth there instead.

Puck lets himself be pulled, held, kissed, not resisting in the least. His fingers, however, are tugging nimbly at Havelock's clothes, loosening here and unbuttoning there.

"You're crystal clear," he whispers, breaking into a laugh.