"All stories are funny, with the proper perspective." He chuckled and followed Mohinder in, pausing at the door (if Mohinder did) to remove his shoes -- or at least try to get the sand off. "I've equally 'funny' stories about my youth. I promise a fair exchange if you'd like."
Leaving his shoes at the door, Mohinder made for the shelves where the cooking pot stayed when it wasn't in use. He glanced back over his shoulder, eyelashes lowering and lips curving provocatively. "A fair exchange is precisely what I had in mind."
Pupils dilating just the slightest bit, Mohinder pressed his lips together thoughtfully for a moment, then collected the pot and tea and made his way back to Rupert. When he stood in front of him, close enough to touch but not touching, he tilted his head and studied him appraisingly, gaze dipping to his mouth and then back up to meet his eyes.
He smiled slowly. "Isn't that way they say, we quiet ones always are?"
"I assure you, no one has ever called me 'quiet'." He lifted his eyebrows and took off his glasses, examining them with an air of studied innocence. "They did used to call me 'Ripper'." The smile he gave Mohinder was pure wolf; when he put his glasses back on, as if by magic he melted back to Giles, again and pulled away, out the door so Mohinder could get by to make the tea.
"So it's true what they say about librarian types," Mohinder answered with a soft laugh and made a point of trailing his fingers across Rupert's abdomen as he stepped past him. "I have no fancy nicknames to report, and yet--" He returned his own smoky smile, not so much wolf as tiger. "I feel confident I shall manage."
"True of this one, at least." He shook his head a little, and watched Mohinder work. "I also fear I must warn you that my conscience won't let me have everything I want tonight. It would tell me I'm taking advantage of grief. But fair is fair, and that leaves a lot of room for it."
Somewhat smug at having settled at least this much, Mohinder ladled water from the jug into the pot and set it on the stones. With the ease of long practice at this point, he lit a fire with the tinder and, having ascertained it would burn, stood and dusted his hands on his thighs.
"Your conscience and my hard-earned prudence. The story I promised, for example." He moved closer to Rupert again and tilted his head a very little. "As long as we've settled there is an 'everything' to want."
"There is an everything," he agreed, tipping his head in answer, moving just that much closer. "Your prudence may catch us. I have a bad habit of being a very impatient man."
"Nor has patience ever been my particular virtue. I am forever rushing in where angels fear to tread, going off half-cocked, and leaping without looking," Mohinder answered, accent rolling over a warmly intimate tone. "I like to imagine I have learned to temper my enthusiasm with self-preservation since my youth, but if I have, I fear it is only a very little."
He let his gaze drop to Rupert's mouth again, then lifted it to meet his gaze. "I think, for now, we have been more than patient enough."
"I can think of other things I'd rather ply you with," Mohinder murmured, audibly but only because they stood so close.
"The tea should be ready shortly. Come and sit on the porch. It's a nice night..." Holding Rupert's gaze a moment, he paused, and then continued, "And my patience will fare better if we're not sitting on my bed."
His smile turned wolfish again, but he followed along outside, quite content to simply roll up his shirtsleeves in answer. He settled near Mohinder, wherever Mohinder chose to sit, and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward just a little. "So tell me."
It struck him in that moment that Rupert combined the best of Daniel and Nathan. Mohinder's lips quirked wryly as he settled, crossing one ankle over the other, legs stretched well into the space Rupert occupied.
"In the beginning," Mohinder intoned, only the faintest hint of irony in his tone. "There was a man, stranded and alone, with only his deceased ex-girlfriend for companionship. And there was alcohol." His eyes flashed with mirth for that. "Isn't there always?"
"It was certainly true in this case," Mohinder answered, thinking back to that first meeting on the beach. He let their legs brush as they would and continued. "I had not been given to drinking, either, since, as the President put it, I hadn't slept in five years. Enter Daniel, recently split with Ianto, playing basketball with a broken wrist, a full bottle of moonshine he couldn't open, and stories of a world beyond ours that, shall we say, turned a boy's head? It took us three meetings and several arguments to get around to fucking and insisting, despite evidence to the contrary, that we could have an exclusive relationship and that I was the one he wanted to be with
( ... )
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He smiled slowly. "Isn't that way they say, we quiet ones always are?"
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"Your conscience and my hard-earned prudence. The story I promised, for example." He moved closer to Rupert again and tilted his head a very little. "As long as we've settled there is an 'everything' to want."
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He let his gaze drop to Rupert's mouth again, then lifted it to meet his gaze. "I think, for now, we have been more than patient enough."
Reply
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"The tea should be ready shortly. Come and sit on the porch. It's a nice night..." Holding Rupert's gaze a moment, he paused, and then continued, "And my patience will fare better if we're not sitting on my bed."
Reply
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"In the beginning," Mohinder intoned, only the faintest hint of irony in his tone. "There was a man, stranded and alone, with only his deceased ex-girlfriend for companionship. And there was alcohol." His eyes flashed with mirth for that. "Isn't there always?"
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