Jack Harkness' room :: Mid-2005 timewarp AU :: Milliways

[othercaptjack]

Jack's room is mostly basic, it has to be said.

In fairness, he hasn't had much chance to make it his own - it has only been (ahem) somewhere private to go that is not the TARDIS for when he visits Milliways.

And since he is not Bound, for most of the time it stays empty, storing just some clean clothes and basic necessities (well - basic if you're Jack) and not much else.


There is this to be said for it, too:

The door may be locked, but it is not booby-trapped.

Lucky for some.

Comments

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock, very consciously, does not move either.

Denying that impulse is not easy.

"You may ask, certainly," he says, quiet and calm, and adds nothing as to whether he may grant it.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

... He'd been hoping for something a little more open-ended than that, but one does what one can. Havelock is welcome to kill him if he likes.

(He's welcome to try, at any rate.)

Puck presses forward, quite swiftly even for him, and makes his very most earnest attempt at a kiss.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock mostly thinks that adrenaline has a lot to answer for.

It may or may not account for the fact that he doesn't grab a knife, but does grab at Puck's wrists and pivot to pin him against the counter.

This may not be either as effective or discouraging as he originally planned.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

If Puck is surprised to find the arc of his movement concluded in the rather rough (he feels) introduction of his back to the edge of the counter-- and his wrists brought into the keeping of Havelock's most capable hands-- well. He's not all that surprised.

He shifts experimentally and laughs a little, head back to show his throat. The surrender is mostly a game.

"Well," and he grins, lowering his gaze to look up at Havelock, "I thought I lost nothing in the begging."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock is not under any misapprehensions here - he is very sure that if Puck decided so, he would be out of his hold in an instant. The fact that he isn't is therefore a circumstance to be closely examined.

Very closely, apparently; as despite the pointlessness of holding onto Puck, he does not step back or let go. They stay pressed against one another for a few heartbeats while Havelock examines him, cool and focused.

"Maybe not," he allows eventually. "May I ask why?"

There is always some angle.

Havelock is usually much better at figuring out what it is.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck finds this lack of skewering unexpectedly delicious.

"Why?" he repeats, blinking slowly.

The million-ducat question.


He refrains from his impulse to shift against Havelock's body, except that actually he doesn't.

Then he adds philosophically, "Why, I shall lose nothing that I mightn't lose already, betwixt our deadly friends and my own dear lord. When all is lost already, there is nothing left that I might lose."

[oneman_onevote]

The assassin narrows his eyes downwards, fingers tightening just a little around slender wrists - but he can't help being just a little amused by the situation. Of all the dangers he had been guarding against all day, surprise kissing wasn't something he had planned for.

(Perhaps he should add it as a standard scenario?)

"So," says Havelock, "there is no reason why not - but that does not explain why you should."

(But no - there is really nothing standard happening here, he thinks.)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs, faint.

"I never do aught that I should."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock quirks an eyebrow at him, but has to concede that point.

"So I am beginning to understand."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

The fairy grins.

This time when he moves, it's only his arms-- testing Havelock's grip. This too is mostly a game; he'll be quite disappointed if the mortal turns him loose.

"Better answers I could tender you," he says absently, "but between them, they should not carry truth to fill a thimble withal."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock shifts his weight obligingly, to keep from pressing too hard, but does not release him - he flatters himself that he would know if Puck really wanted to be free of his hold.

It would probably involve broken fingers.

"I do not doubt it," he assures the faerie in the meantime. "But please go ahead, I am sure they would be most entertaining."

:D?

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

The grin quirks slightly, turning secretive and speculative at once.

"Then," he says, "I should because you are so able with a blade, and you set the mermaids to singing, and because in seventy times seven fortnights I should not find so goodly a falconer." His lashes dip. "And, of course, I took to sleep with the juice of a certain flow'r laid on o'er my eyes, and I must love the one who did the waking."

You asked for it, Vetinari.

[oneman_onevote]

As Puck speaks, Havelock bites his lower lip in an effort not to laugh, before schooling his features once more.

It's a fascinating contradiction, to be lied to quite so openly but with such sincere fluency.

"Very good," he says, solemnly approving.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

His expression remains predominantly mischievous, but when Havelock bites his lip, a certain ... focus ... enters into it.

Light, "Do but bid me and I shall speak again."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock shrugs, finally letting go of Puck's wrists; but he does not move back, and rests his hands on the edge of the bar either side of his hips.

"Do just as you like," he says.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

He grins, faint.

"May I really."

Slowly, his hands ghost upward, almost as if they wish to go unobserved. The fairy's fingers curl into the fabric of Havelock's shirtfront and take hold.

"Perilous, mortal," he murmurs, but because he does not want to give Havelock any opportunity to change his mind before he sweetens the deal, he tilts his head up and uses his grip on Havelock's shirt as gently, but inexorably as he can, to pull him down.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock sighs faintly, but goes obligingly with the pull on his shirt.

Were it so perilous, he is already considering, Puck would hardly need permission. It's to remind himself, as much as anything, that this is a very dangerous individual.

His reaction is not normally to let such people kiss him - or indeed to close the gap and kiss them himself, but for the moment, that seems to make perfect sense.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck finds himself somewhat torn. On the one hand, a sigh seems somewhat unwarranted, given how many a mortal dreams-- or once dreamt, at any rate-- of touching a fairy.

On the other hand, he had intended to kiss a mortal, and a mortal is now kissing him.

Puck pulls him closer for a better taste.

[oneman_onevote]

It is fairly safe to say that this hasn't been something Havelock had previously dreamed of, or even particularly dwelled upon. He mostly tends to focus on the current and practical.

Fortunately, that means he is now intently focused on the matter at hand, careful and as if considering every move.

(Havelock embraces all learning experiences with curiosity and calculation, and this is no exception.)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Well.

One thing he must admit, in the spirit of fairness*-- he had assumed the mortal might kiss like a statue or a fumbling boy, but he has the type of single-mindedness that seems to him at once to be so passionless as to be, itself, a type of passion.

He doesn't want to pull away; Havelock could come to his senses, abundant as they are. So when he must breathe, he lets up but doesn't quite let go. His lips remain close enough to the mortal's that, were he not waiting to see what reaction he has (if any), he could easily manage to kiss him again.

[oneman_onevote]

Breathing - ah yes, that is becoming an issue.

This seems to be a particularly involved process, and more so when the driving force is impulse rather than design.* He certainly doesn't remember moving his hands to Puck's hips, but that apparently happened at some point.

The assassin takes a sensibly slow couple of breaths while he opens his eyes a little to study Puck's face from below his lashes.

* It may be that Havelock is losing his grip just a little on the spirit of disinterested experimentation here, but stopping him from thinking constantly is nigh impossible.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

That look is so dreadfully becoming.

Puck, surlily, is cognizant of the fact that Havelock has his hands on his hips (and doesn't it just fill one's mind with possibility), as well as the fact that his own retain their grip on his shirt. If he doesn't let go soon, he concedes, his fingers may become permanently hooked into claws.

He doesn't look away from Havelock, though he must look up. His eyes, unglittering and perfectly consistent in shade, are nevertheless a gleaming bright blue, and the expression in them is one of uncertainty.

The proximity dizzies him, and dizziness makes him restless. He unhands Havelock's shirt, in favor of sliding his fingertips to his shoulders and rising on tiptoe to press a kiss to his neck.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock has gone stiller as Puck reaches up, and it's a struggle not to catalogue the numerous ways in which letting someone who (possibly) dislikes you and has remarkably sharp teeth go for your throat is sheer stupidity.

Instead he swallows unconsciously, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment.

It's possibly the only - and if not, then certainly the strangest - leap of faith he's ever taken.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Close as he is, the swallow is palpable.

Palpable, and really quite wonderful.

Mortals-- who knew? After craning, careful and carefuller, to get round the collar of Havelock's shirt, Puck kisses his neck again. This one lasts slightly longer.

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock's continuing lack of bloody death is marginally reassuring.

It's also good in a way he had not anticipated. He'd never thought of himself as a thrillseeker, given that his day job involves death-defying acts every night, but he's beginning to think it might be a character flaw.

His head tilts just a little so Puck doesn't have to crane too hard.

It may be the closest the faerie will ever get to written permission.