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The show of magic was…amusing, personally he figured it was just easier to climb through the window but the witch had other ideas. He didn’t give it another moment’s thought, better things to focus his attention on once Quentin was in his room and within reach. The wall sufficed at first, after some side-stepping over the occasional thing scattered on the floor, solid surface where he half lazed as that kiss drew out.  His fingers kept busy in contrast, there were lines and details to commit to memory for the evening, spots to find along the cage of ribs and the arch of the witch’s spine that would urge up the sort of tense reactions he was on the hunt for. 
He barely left Quentin time to shrug free of it before he urged the shirt off with a pleased sound against his lips that bordered a growl. Then he was gone in an instant, at least out of reach for a tempting few seconds, hooded eyes trained on him with the brief moment he spared to slink out of and toss aside his own and reaching out to grab the witch by one of the belt-loops of his pants to draw him back in closer. 
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  Quentin let himself fall forward, fall against Sydney. His lips would sought again. Sought and found. The Witch cupped the back of the elegant Wolf’s head and held him close. Any second the other male was surely going to change his mind. He had to savour every second of this. It had been far, far too long since ... anything felt this good. He groaned quietly before finally, reluctantly, breaking off the kiss. His hands slipped to the buttons of his shirt and he slowly peeled it off. Slowly only because his hands were shaking too much to be rushed.                                                                                                                                         
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Temptation was one of the indulgences in life; too much hinged on the right and wrong to the world and people choked on it needlessly. He didn’t fear the spike of heat in the pit of his stomach no more than he did the prospects of the next morning; what was the point in throwing away moments just because one never really knew where they led?  Chaos was most of the most alluring parts of life. 
Second, actually, only to the kiss that left his lips feeling just barely chapped, his attention snagged by the words that brought that faint, pleased, smirk back to them as the certainty that had crept over Quentin. “Hmn, well, I guess that’s one thing we can agree on.” 
With the words he was gone, a few steps back and a stark glance at the witch to follow, catching the edge of the ground’-level window with his nails and shoving it open before he was through it. A second later appearing with the flicker of light on in the room, palms on the sill with a nod towards it.  “I don’t use the front door,” he explained with a moment of pause waiting for him, it really wasn’t a difficult effort to get into his room. 
Of course the instant Quentin was inside and he’d reached to shove the window back shut the man was in his territory and Sydney let that tension urging him entirely win out with the privacy, hands free to roam meant they did exactly that. Quentin’s shirt had been mocking him since the start of the conversation, hanging just right on his frame and obscuring all that inviting skin under it.  Fingers finding the hem, shoving it up, out of the way, he wanted to explore every inch of him. 
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This was a terrible idea. He was literally climbing through this Wolf’s window. But right now Quentin knew he would probably climb over glass to get a chance to spend a night with the sensual Wolf. One night with him would be worth it. 
Using magic he created a set of stairs and stepped through the window. He looked around for a moment but suddenly his shirt was pushed up and there were hands, delicious, warm, firm hands. A soft sound was forced from between his lips as his head dipped forward to claim Sydney’s lips in a lingering kiss.
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She looked back at him, seeing him looking at her. Oh how she loved this. To pull people into her spell, and make them unable to look away. “No blood, no magic binding and no knives? Sounds like a good deal for me.” Humming a little, she looked ahead as she thought about how to answer her own limits. “I don’t really like pegging guys but hmm.. Other than that I think my limits are somewhat the same as yours.”
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Quentin nodded at her look. Unable to resist, he stretched out a hand and coiled one finger in her fiery hair, just a gentle touch really. Quentin met her large dark eyes, made more mysterious in the moonlight. “That is fine... what ...” He flicked his tongue over suddenly dry lips, “What would you like?”
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“Good answer,” he murmured as he stepped into the darkness outside, sank into it really; he loved the shadows of night. It suited his intentions well and that deep evening drove away the less bold sorts; nighttime might not have been the kindest to his sense of sight but he didn’t need it too much at the moment. 
He knew the path well enough, had navigated it in various states of intoxication and his instincts would lead him back to the dorm where he was expected to stay with the others like himself, but he wasn’t in much hurry now that he had Quentin’s attention away from the chaos. 
No surprise then, really, when it was a few moments walking before he slowed and turned playfully glinted eyes back on the man. Games, it was all games, but that didn’t mean it held less weight for that fact. His attention was all Quentin’s right then, right up to the pause to let him catch up before snagging the collar of his shirt as he stepped just off to the side of the path just short of the dorms. 
His room was in the back, his window there, but he only made it around the shadow-drenched corner before his hands wear roaming with a hint of eagerness. It didn’t matter, any wolf around the dorm would hear, or scent, anything people did; and honestly Sydney hardly cared. 
“So what do you want from me then, hm?” He inquired with the sweep of fingers back at Quentin’s side, seeking the edge of fabric for the warmth of skin under in just a tempting touch, eyes reflecting the sparse light and a smirk bare on his lips as he licked them.
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Sydney was a temptation. The Wolf’s movements through the dark were at times hard to follow but Quentin kept up. Then he stopped, pulling him up short, before looking at him again. Without words, Quentin leaned in to claim Sydney’s lips again, undone by the slow glide of his tongue. Too much temptation. 
With a low groan, he finally broke off the kiss and met the Wolf’s gaze. “I want to fuck you. To touch all of you.” Quentin confessed without shame.
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“Good boy.” She nearly purred as he stood up and let her take his hand. She was amused by how this evening had gone really, she had expected far more work to happen before she could bring anyone home. Instead, she had barely been there before she was bringing Q home. So she started to bring him towards where the boats were. “So tell me Q… What limits do you have? What do you not like? Just so I can ensure this is a good experience, that is.”
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The night air was cool but Quentin only had eyes for the swish of Aria’s skirt and the flow of her bright hair, even in the moonlight it seemed to sparkle. “Oh well.... no blood I suppose ... or knives ... nothing that binds my magic. And you? What do you not enjoy? What are your limits?” 
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“I think we’ve already established what I want,” Sydney replied with a humored sound, not expecting quite that level of breathy uncertainty from the other man, “We’ll just have to figure out what you want.” It seemed as though that was going to be a challenge; getting an answer that wasn’t hesitant and wavering. But he liked a challenge, really when it came to people his desires were flexible beyond a few necessities; male, interested, and not someone who grated his nerves the wrong way. Lucky for Quentin he hit all those points on the checklist just fine. 
"Since you asked so nicely,” Sydney added with another small nip to the spot where he could feel the man’s pulse quicken with the press of lips there, he did rather like the eager sound of that ’please’. He was already a bit distracted by the stray thought of what other sounds he might manage to urge from the witch before morning. Or mid-morning, depending on his mood when the sun rose.
Hooking a finger in fabric to give Quentin a tug by his shirt, it wasn’t anything subtle in his intention as he pried him away from the wall, his drink and the other people on that trek towards the door. “Let’s see if we make it as far as my room."  If not, well, he wasn’t going to worry over that too much.
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“You.” Quentin blurted and then blushed a little deeper. What the hell was he doing? But sex was so good and he missed it, ached for it. This Werewolf was just playing and Quentin knew better than to have expectations but right now he’d be delighted to fuck this guy ten ways from Sunday.
When the finger hooked into his shirt, Quentin just followed. His blood was racing and he had lost interest in the trip making out in the corner or any of the other party attendees. At this moment, they were all just noise and only Sydney was relevant. So he walked, out of the party and into the cool night air. 
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Watching, for that split-second, the way Quentin practically went weak on his feet, something that translated in the slack-shoulder way he drew into the kiss. No real bite to that one then, not sharp edges, there was a yielding eagerness to him that certainly didn’t settle into Sydney’s usual stalk and pounce sort of prowling habits.  Did he feel even the slightest bit uncertain as to if he was going to end up perplexing the man, if he was making some misstep?  No, not even for the span of a breath. 
He had better things to spend that breath on anyway, rationing it between the press of lips and the instant he dropped a hand out of vague assumption Quentin was out of sorts, fingers steady at his ribs in a tempting draw over fabric to bunch up in his palm. 
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There were better things under it, warm skin and the bubbling pulse the edges of his fingers swept across, interest sparked. He chuckled under his breath, teeth finding a spot at Quentin’s low lip to catch the edge, just barely a nip before he abandoned it for the curve of bare skin at his neck instead to smirk against it. “You’re about to go from voyeur to exhibitionist, unless you’re rather go somewhere else.”
Quentin’s heartbeat raced, unable to control it, despite the fact that he knew the Familiar would hear it. However, he couldn’t stop it. Biting back the soft moan that threatened to bubble up at the barest nip to his throat. Blushing fiercely at Sydney’s words, his head dropped but he couldn’t stop the slight smile that warmed his features. 
“I ... if you wanted ... I would go with you.” Would Sydney say yes? Or was Quentin just dreaming. “Please.” he whispered softly, unable to keep the slight plea from his voice.
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“Well why would it not be okay, Q? Are you afraid I’ll eat you up alive if you come there?” She teased him, giving his nose a little tap with her finger before she stood up. Offering him her hand, she kept a soft smile on her lips. “There’s a little boat we can use so you won’t have to end up a drowned witch on the way.”
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Quentin wasn’t quite sure what was happening. He expected any second she would laugh and say she was just kidding. But he still took her small hand in his own and rose to his feet. He wasn’t at all sure what this meant but even if it just was a night, he would take it.  He let her lead him away from the building.
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“Wonderful.” She grinned to him. Letting him take a moment to realize what she had suggested, she watched him as he did. When he finally said yes, she had to chuckle a little. “That’s great, Q. Would you prefer we have a few more drinks here, or would you rather have a drink in my room?”
Honestly he didn’t think if she had longer to think about it that it would go well for him. He didn’t really improve that much on further conversation. He knew that well enough. “Your place. Please. Ummm ... I’ve never been into your home before ... are you sure ... umm that it would be okay?” 
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He was going to reserve his assessment of disappointment or not for later in the evening, it was only fair. He was half hopeful that Quentin was one of those people who failed so incredibly badly at holding a conversation but managed better without the benefit of words; if not it was bound to be an..interesting evening.  Grinning like that, yeah, maybe he needed to adjust those expectations a little. 
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Shoulders rolled, palm to the wall to push away from it, that same palm lifted with a flex of fingers landing right about the midpoint of Quentin’s chest to test to see if the flush that decorated his face extended that far with the warmth across his skin. Hindering fabric in his way, he shrugged aside the notion and went for the throat, or rather lips, since that was likely going to shake some of that unsteadiness right out of the guy. 
To his credit he was likely only going to nip a little, curious about the taste of alcohol lingering from whatever drink Quentin had been nursing at to work up his nerve.
There was a fluidity to Sydney’s movements that Quentin knew he couldn’t match ... ever ... But when that hand came to rest on his chest, Quentin felt as though time slowed to just this moment, just the rush of his heartbeat and this male Wolf’s beautiful, fierce gaze. He watched as the other approached, letting his eyes fall closed as Sydney’s lips dusted over his. He let himself fall into it.
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“Yeah? I’ll make sure to take a trip next break then.” She teased him lightly. When he started to cough like there was no tomorrow she removed her fingers from his skin, dropping it to his thigh instead. Oh how easy it was to get him to react. But she was rather curious to how badly she could corrupt him. “Well… Do you want to come keep my bed occupied with me instead then? I promise I won’t bite.”
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“Sure ... okay...” He agreed with a nod, pretty sure the pretty redheaded Familiar wasn’t likely to take him up on it. It was therefore an easy pledge to make. He settled back and watched as her hand settled on his thigh. “What?” Had he misheard? Was she actually asking him that? “Ummm ... yeah okay.” 
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Desperate may have been right, the man was floundering with all the grace of a wounded deer; it was something of a train-wreck to watch. It was also almost bemusing though, even more so was the fact that Quentin stood there rather than retreated. He wasn’t bold, there didn’t look to be a bone in his body that didn’t have some shake to it, but he was..something.  Not being able to place exactly what kept him there, studying, a least for a moment or two longer while there was that scramble at words. 
“Better than some places,” trailing off with a shoulder shoved back against the wall, body tipped inward into the space between them, “Not so interested in the place tonight, more the people. Too many of them end up disappointin’, sadly." 
Clearly it was past time to get a bit more expressive with that interest, before he was stuck roaming the room again in search of less skittish goals. "Would probably like it better somewhere more private,” he cast a sideways glance back in the direction of the couple, “Unless you like being watched as much as you do watchin’, doesn’t matter t'me either way."  Clearly it wasn’t a judgement, his narrow shoulders went slack in a shrug and those lips curled once more; was Quentin looking for a more obvious suggestion? 
If so, he was willing to offer it, "This would be the part where you with say…yes, Sydney, I’m very curious about all the interesting things you can do with you hands, or your mouth, or tell me to go find some other lonely soul.”
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Was that a statement or a comment? He wasn’t sure. Was he the disappointment? Probably. He sighed softly to himself. “I hope you like it here. That you want to say.” He shook his head slightly. Then he glanced up, frowning lightly. Did this beautiful male actually suggest what Quentin thought he did. 
Then he said it .. explicitly. 
Wow.
He grinned, almost laughing, kind of amazed would be an understatement. But he just nodded, “Yeah. I’d like that. A lot.” 
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“Yes, here,” Sydney nodded in agreement as the man made a disaster of trying to answer the question while he watched every little shift and twitch that went with it. “Full names? Well, isn’t that intimate, didn’t realize we were already that far.” He drew his lips back just barely past the edge of his teeth, letting his amusement show as another smooth step took him further into the bubble of space around the man. Quentin, rather, now that he knew what the full sum of him was wrapped up in other than just thin bone and thin skin.  More interesting was the swift pulse underneath, the racing heartbeat that must have painted said skin such a brilliant flush. 
“Sydney,” it was only fair to return the gesture and, true, if the night went well he wanted to hear his name from the other’s lips so no sense in depriving himself of that indulgence. “It depends, right now, with all this noise and all these people, I’m feeling a little lonely.”  Eyes trailing again, fingertips trailing the wall to his left and pausing just so very short of the space occupied by the man. “How about you, Quentin, are you out tonight drinking the day away, or is something else on your mind?”
Flirting was a bit more tactile for him, he was only playing up until that point but to his credit the man hadn’t run, hadn’t dismissed him. In the few inches of empty space between them his fingertips lingered and finally brushed temptingly at the sliver of bare skin at an arm; risking watching that rabbit bolt but a risk worth taking. 
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There was almost a purr to the other male’s voice that made him curious about his species. Something sensual that was certainly true. His pulse escalated as the other approached. He could see the bright eyes and smooth skin that made Quentin itch to touch, just for a second. To feel that warmth against skin that always felt cold since his cat had left. “Hi Sydney.” he tried to greet politely but then he was even closer and forming thoughtful questions seemed impossible. “Just ... ummm ... trying to be social.” 
A desperate attempt really. Social was never a strong suit but sitting and drinking alone in his room seemed like a terrible idea. When Sydney’s fingertips brushed over Quentin’s skin, it almost burned. He was so touch-starved that even that small flirtation of a caress seemed too intense. His pulse was pounding in his ears. Any second this Sydney was going to laugh, going to dismiss Quentin and go flirt with a better match. Until that moment, Quentin just wanted to drink him in and savour this quiet moment when someone was pretending to be interested in him, for even a few minutes. 
He should speak. This was getting awkward and then Sydney would leave all the quicker. Say anything you dumbass, he scolded himself, “Do you like it here Sydney?” There. Not exactly an amazing query but a start and a start was needed.
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Oh how adorable it was that he was blushing bright. He was making this far too easy by just being so adorably cute and innocent. Letting her fingers trace from the back of his head and to his jaw, she watched as he spoke. “New York? Now that is exciting. Maybe I should come drag you along for shopping with me in some break? We could go get ice cream or something  ” Her voice was nearly like that of a purring cat, each word soft and targeted directly to him. “So do you have any plans tonight darling, or are you going to be just sleeping all alone early?”
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“Oh well... I ... sure ... that ... I could do that.” He paused and coughed to clear his throat. He took a desperate sip of his drink and nearly coughed when her words dripped like honey on him. Was she making fun of him? Or just flexing some muscles to make him turned on and then leave him aching in bed. Fuck it had been way too long. “No ... no plans.” he managed to get out once the coughing fit had passed. That was sexy. Way to attract a lover.
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