[ God, Rupert is so overwhelmingly sure that yes, this man can handle himself, but what he wouldn't give to handle him as well. He opens his mouth to say as much when he finds himself being touched, boldly, and the touch leaves him temporarily silent. The hand is rough against his smooth cheek, cold from where it had been cupping his drink, and smelling faintly of alcohol and sweat. Why the fuck is this man touching his face if he doesn't want this as badly as Rupert does? To hell with partners and Greek gods, Rupert isn't about to take that no for an answer. ]

Do you think so? [ He murmurs, not looking even remotely disappointed as he keeps his gaze trained intently, unblinkingly, on Midnighter's. ] You should know that I don't like to take these claims on word alone...

[ His eyes glitter with coy delight as he pauses, savouring the words that Midnighter has left for him to take advantage of, adding: ]

I think I'd like to decide for myself whether or not you're too much man for me.