Darian strode through the castle like he owned it, face creased in a very self-satisfied smirk. It was only an hour after lunch and most of the students were in classes; those that weren't eyed the adult in their midst curiously but without trying to stop him. Some even recognized him, and he tipped those a wink. He'd come for lunch today with Maiko, the darling, but had given her the slip for one very important errand. One moment just behind her, the next - voila! A little wandless magic of his own courtesy of naturally stealthy instincts and his scuff-proof floral loafers.

He took the back, lesser used corridors when possible, staying away from offices and classroom doors. It had been over a decade since he'd called Hogwarts his home, but mischievous boys always knew the best and most secret routes. Darian hadn't forgotten. As he ascended to the forth floor he drew off his tie and shrank it, tucking it into his pocket. Next came his flowered waistcoat, due to the same fate. His blazer was shucked unceremoniously behind the statue of Egbert the Erroneous on the west corner, whose thick layer of dust ensured its safety until he passed by that way again. As he waltzed up the tower stairs he was a transformed man - much more subdued than his usual in only shirtsleeves and slacks. Much more approachable. Nonthreatening. Even cuddlable, as of course all Libertine fabric was tested for maximum cuddlability. His confidence was unchanged and so was his ease, broadcast in the animated movements of his hands and face, his darting eyes' ready gleam. He could think of what was before him, imagining with pleasure the look on Tapendra's face presuming all went smoothly. He mustn't laugh during the moment so he had to enjoy it now, pausing at the top of the landing with a little smile on his mouth. His hand on the classroom door was light, so light. He only opened it and looked for Tappy, poised in the doorway in his unexpected way. No students. Perfect.

Tapendra had had a slow day thus far, awakening in the early morning to work out before going back to sleep. He'd only awoken again about two hours before. He sat on one of the couches in the classroom, book open on one thigh. It was the sort of calm, quiet hour that usually passed before classes started, the one he woke himself up in and got his bearings. No music played, but he barely needed it to not hear the sound of feet on the stairs, as engrossed in the text as he was.

With him only recent awake, the tower was unlit save the light from the enchanted windows, which spilled their subdued blue-tinted light into the room. It was enough to read by comfortably, but with the interior lights off it made the room dim, full of long shadows. The steady sound of rain beat on the roof and windows.

The door opened suddenly and Tapendra jumped with a gasping sort of yelp, dropping his book and on his feet in a moment, eyes wide and gawking. The dull shadows of the stairwell sent the door to the classroom into shadow, but it looked like –

“Darian? What the hell are you doing in –“ Right, he’d invited him weeks ago, hadn’t he? Tapendra came down the short flight of stairs to the doorway, frowning. “Is something the matter? You look…”

Surprisingly casual, really. Tapendra raised his eyebrows at the man, curiously.

Darian was quiet for a moment to absorb the sight of Tappy here in his classroom, enticingly professorial and entirely comfortable in his element. It was all new and rather special in the dim blue light, and he liked seeing this. Oh, Tapendra was so dear. Concerned. How delicious.

"Nothing's the matter," he said, stepping into the room and closing the door after him. He felt a little fission of pleasure at Tapendra's trust, flush with the tiny victory of knowing this couldn't have happened months ago. The man'd even cut himself off before finishing his question, oh, he was so ready, he'd adapted so well. What happened when Tappy became accustomed to Darian's little flirtations? Why, he raised the stakes.

He moved towards Tappy with a deliberateness and an easy, lithesome grace. These were not qualities which had been present in his earlier stroll through the castle but ones which drew attention now to his walk, his form, his physical presence. He was not concerned about students interrupting. In fact, the possibility of that happening was only another little thrill.

For once, he didn’t move. As Darian walked closer, every stride strangely…interesting, he stood his ground, hands at his sides, watching the other man with some measure of fascination. Darian did not seem distressed, which might rule out his attackers having resurfaced. Rather, he seemed…

Tapendra couldn’t put a word on what the man seemed like, not really. Watching Darian Morgan move and speak was an experience unto itself, one he’d become more and more conscious of in the last few months. It was the play of the man’s red hair curled against his jaw, the way his dark blue eyes glittered with mischief and something a bit darker, and above all the way he moved, with a careful sort of grace that Tapendra felt only came with a roaring, overpowering self-confidence. Darian Morgan filled the entirely of any space he was in.

It had been easy to try and forget his own actions in the tailor’s shop, easy to dismiss them as a moment’s strange choice. But in the recess of his mind he’d known better – the mere fact he’d thought about it as much as he had was a testament to that, the way the moment had replayed in his mind as easily as if it had happened hours before.

He swallowed, visibly, as Darian approached – unsure if it was his own confused mind that read into the man’s expression, into the way Darian’s lips curled into a smile.

There was a sort of stillness between them, care of the empty room, the muffled rain, and Darian's visible intent. To him it was a charged stillness, anticipatory, because of course he knew what he was about to do and he'd been training Tappy all this while so the man wouldn't bolt the second he did it. Merlin knew what Tapendra thought of it. He wasn't a stupid man, even if his intellect generally manifested in more academic ways. Some part of him was aware which hadn't been when first they met, and that awareness was what Darian had worked to cultivate. The desire had always been present, but it meant nothing if Tappy didn't recognize it too.

He reached up and slid his fingers into the short hair at the nape of Tappy's neck, cupping his hand there. Then Darian paused, waited. He gave Tappy the option to move away.

The slide of Darian’s fingers under the collar of his shirt and into the hairs at the nape of his neck was an electric kind of feeling, one that shot warmth through his frame and made his eyes dart to the shorter man’s, his own expression one momentary of surprise. Darian’s intent was unspoken, but clear in the gleam in his eye, in the way he watched Tapendra with an almost curious air, and above all in the way his fingers darted on his skin. The question was unspoken, but Tapendra understood. 

Being touched in that charged sort of manner was something he struggled to cope with – both possessed of the desire to pull away and glad to have the distance closed, glad to feel the warmth of Darian’s touch, as slight as it was.

There was every possibility that someone could come through the door into the classroom – students would be up here within the hour, Sasha was often early, Ignan occasionally, even Aileen came by now and again. What would she say, if she saw this? What would any of them say? Normally, that might have terrified him, might have made him imagine all the scenarios where they arrived and judged, or he got fired, or they left him because of….

To hell with the rest of the castle.

 Tapendra opened his mouth slightly to speak – to protest, to agree, to say something, he didn’t know what. Was there anything he could say that wouldn’t ruin…whatever this was?

In the end he didn’t pull away – in fact, he barely flinched, his hands curling into fists. He looked at Darian a moment, the silence in the tower making him wonder if Darian could hear how loudly his heart seemed to beat even if the steady drum of the rain.

Satisfied, Darian kissed him. His other hand slid up to join his first and he pulled Tappy down to meet him in careless, demanding presumption. It was not a hard kiss but it was one he led from the start, and the first was only the beginning of several.

Kisses were like handshakes to Darian and didn't mean much, but it was the first time he'd kissed with Tapendra that it was allowed to come to its natural end and that was something to appreciate. He did appreciate it. The wait for a thing heightened its anticipation; though this was chaste, his mind was not. It took everything in him not to push his luck. Darian was so bad at patience. But it would be a shame to ruin all his careful planning now so he leaned into Tappy only as far as he'd give, some combination of nonthreatening and 'never forget me' in the way he pressed against the other man. His fingers were still greedy as they threaded through Tappy's hair. It would be a lie to say he wasn't trying to leave something that lingered.

A few minutes later he pulled back, withdrawing his arms but not stepping away. He smiled at Tappy with wet lips and an open mouth, a small and knowing expression.

Gods, he'd missed this kind of sensation - the warm feel of another against him, the way his heart pounded, and above all the overpowering feeling of having someone else want this as badly as he did. Kisses were simple - something he himself enjoyed doing, but nonetheless they were chaste, quiet. Kissing Darian was far different than kissing Dolly, and he barely had time to consider much of anything - even a simple act like this Darian seemed to do with a kind of burning intensity.

His hands came up automatically, a large hand resting naturally in the small of Darian's back, his other coming around to meet it, resting further up against Darian's shoulder blade. It was a position that came easily, as did the slight movement of his fingers, stroking over the smooth, fine fabric of Darian's shirt.

Darian's restraint was something Tappy would have appreciated, although he was largely unaware of it - the lack of distraction let him enjoy this for what it was, an intense, burning kind of moment that made him feel like his mind was going blank.

Darian pulled back slightly, leaving in his wake both a burning sort of warmth and a sense of emptiness that made Tapendra open his eyes again, looking at Darian in a kind of daze. He was running on automatic - his conscious mind had yet to engage, yet to process what the hell was going on.

Too many things wanted - needed - to be said, and in the end he said nothing. He studied Darian's face, licking his lips.

Tapendra had opened his mouth several times now as if to speak, and each time stopped himself. Darian liked his restraint. This was not the time for obvious questions - his actions spoke clearly, and nearly perfectly by themselves. The haze of lust would only last but so long; words would break it quicker. He kept his own short but terrifically effective.

"I think it's time we stopped pretending," Darian said, very gently. "Don't you?"

Satisfied that the seed was more than planted - it was ten feet high and sprouting purple geraniums - his smile shaded enigmatic as he turned and strolled out of the room. He placed his hands in his pockets and went at a placid pace down the stairs. His lips were still tingling. He was pleased with what he'd left behind.