"Oh, sodding hell." Giles had just fallen to sleep, or at least, it felt like he had, when he heard the knock on his door. Struggling to sit up, he dragged a hand through his hair and did something he hadn't done in a good twenty years. He reached for a cigarette before he did anything else, and lit it. He carefully disentangled himself from Ethan before lighting it, and stomped over to the door. Yanking it open, the surly "Yeah, what is it?" was accompanied by a cloud of smoke.
And it was only when he caught a glimpse of Ritchie's pajamas that he realized he'd opened the door buck-ass naked.
He couldn't find it in himself to care. "Ritchie. What? It's..." Giles squinted at the wall clock. "Bloody early," he said, finally giving up. "What's the problem, mate?"