petty_dabbler

Wyn

The day was finally done. He shooed out the last of the students, swung the door closed, and lit a cigarette right there in the basement.

These children were going to be the death of him. Maybe he could convince Guy to teach a lesson or two on pertinent symbols.

With his cig in his mouth, John rolled up his sleeves and sat cross legged in the center of a circle surrounded my mystical runes and symbols. The circle began to glow gold as he performed the ritual to strengthen the protections in the Dark Arts room. John was sure they were one student fuck up away from a schoolwide disaster.

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Wyn was only coming buy to return some supplementary materials he'd borrowed, and lingered at the door, watching. He was quiet as a mouse, mindful not to disturb the man as he worked.

He drank it all in though, making note of what the professor did.

John raised his arms and began to chant, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. It was an ancient language, one spoken by about seven people, and spoken well by the one who had actually gone there. The words conjured power unlike most magicians had ever felt. Out into the corridor passed a wave of energy, hot and bright. The air burned to breathe as it passed. But then it was done, the circle was once again black, and John plucked the smoke from his mouth and ashed on the floor.

He took a breath, rose to his feet, turned...

And shrieked.

"Sweet inconsolable Christ, man. Announce yourself!" he barked in shock.

Wyn nearly dropped the book he'd brought back, and flinched visibly.

"I didn't want... Nevermind. Sorry," he said awkwardly. "I was just bringing back your book."

"Oh. Fine. That's fine. Come in, come in," he motioned, leading Wyn to the desk at the end of the room that was jumbled with books and papers. The shelves behind it were haphazardly piled with chaos as well.

"If you're done with that, you should read this," he said. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked at him. "And I want you to do me a favor. Your house mate, Aaron. See to it that he gets that one. Even if you have to sneak it under his pillow."

"Oh, sure, I can do that," Wyn nodded. "Aaron's quite nice, actually."

One of the few people in the dorm who'd been friendly.

"He's a good lad. Very strict parents," John said. "That there is banned material, but he has talent, so...see he gets it,"he nodded.

"You just came by to drop that off?"

"Yeah, I thought you might need it," Wyn lied lamely.

Truthfully he just liked an excuse to hang around the professor. Sure, he and Hex were testing the waters, but they weren't exactly dating. He could look. ...They weren't dating, were they? They'd need to talk about that at some point.

"I appreciate it," John smiled and stubbed out the last of his cigarette in an upside down dog skull.

"I'm done for the day. I was going to go across the bridge for a beer. You got time to come?"

"Really?" Wyn asked, before realizing how childish that made him sound.

"I mean, I'd like to... If you want some company. Yeah," he said, trying to sound a bit more cool about it all. "Let me just- I'll take this to the dorm and meet you at the bridge?"

He wanted to put on something a bit nicer.

"I'll meet you there," he nodded.

While Wyn was gone, John pulled on his coat and grabbed a fresh pack of smokes from his desk drawer. A wave of his hand and the room was as tidy as he cared to make it, then he headed out, a fresh smoke lit the second he exited the doors.

He was standing against the lamp post, shoulders hunched forward and head down as he stared at his phone.

Wyn was fast as he could be, and when he approched John he'd changed into more traditional nymph clothing. Long, flowy, almost sheer tunics and dresses- Things he was too nervous to wear on campus still. People already had the wrong idea about him, he didn't want to make it worse. ...But John? He trusted the professor.

"Sorry for making you wait."

"You dressed up," he noted when he looked up. "I didn't even comb my hair."

In fact, he ruffed his fingers in it and made it a bit worse.

"Is this a date now?"

Wyn laughed awkwardly, blushing a bit.

"Oh, um, I mean- Well, that would be nice, but really it's just nice to wear my traditional clothes.I'm not really ready to do it on campus," he confessed.

"They look nice," John said kindly. "Let's go get pissed."

He struck out for the pub and held the door for Wyn. He'd come to love this pub, it was like a second home. Once inside, John waved and greeted a dozen people before leading the nymph to a back booth. A very pale young woman with black hair and black eyes dressed in fishnets brought over a pint.

"I don't know your order," she said to Wyn.

"You make it sound like I'm a creature of habit, Gina," John chuckled.

She flashed him a dagger smile.

"Because you are, John Constantine."

"Gin and tonic," Wyn said, glancing between the pair curiously.

She smiled, sniffed him, and smiled wider, every needle like tooth on display.

"You got it, sweetheart," she said and headed back to the bar.

John watched her go. It was so good to watch her go. As good as watching her come.

"Gina's great. You do know they're all fae in here, right? All of them."

"I can smell fae blood," Wyn said absently, still a bit startled about being sniffed himself.

"...Sorry, that sounds weird, it's just a thing we can do. Fae smell different than humans, nymphs smell different than both. It's hard to explain."

"I believe it," he nodded.

"You know who smells good? Head of Hemlock. Rob. If you haven't met him, you need to. He'll offer you his dick, do with that what you will," he chuckled.

He knew it was a perv thing to do, but he breathed the man in any time he was near. He smelled like warm honey.

"I'm sorry, he'll what?" Wyn said, certain he must have misheard that.

"It's a good dick," John assured him confidently.

"Look, just because I'm a nymph doesn't mean I'm sex obsessed," Wyn said, looking a bit hurt.

"Oh, that don't matter a bit. He'll try. And when he does, you remember I told you," John said, pointing a finger at him.

"But back to the point, he smells like honey. And that bloke with the guitar over there smells like blackberries. You smell like something I can't put my finger on. It's sweet, I know that."

"Cake," Wyn said awkwardly. "People always say cake. ...It's more just vanilla though, I'd say."

"It's nice," he assured him with a smile. "How're you feeling about your house now that you've had some time?"

"I don't know," Wyn admitted, shaking his head a little. "There was an incident a few days ago, one of the guys got a bit... Grabby I guess. But, uh- My roommate stepped in, actually. I think we're getting on now."

What he wasn't sure of was if it was a truce, a friendship, or an arrangement.

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