A/N: I haven't put anything up for a looong while and was feeling distinctly lazy and unproductive so here's Cale and Eoin! This is actually a drabble I wrote while trying to figure out their characters for a longer story I'm working on. Until I get that (and my other stories done), here they are. Enjoy :)
Oh, and before I forget; my livejournal has a Devin/West drabble. It's an introspective/fluff piece if anyone's interested.
It always amused him to watch his lover wake up.
The blond – blond from a bottle, though he would never admit it – was the epitome of Bad. Cool bad and, that sounded completely ridiculous, even in his head. The point was; his lover was quick, sharp witted, always ready with a barb and rarely surprised. He always looked good, from his carefully – he spent an hour in the bathroom every morning – styled hair to his leather jacket to his heavy boots.
Eoin knew that beings, looking at them, wondered how the hell they'd gotten together. Hell, he'd often wondered the same himself, during the early stages of their relationship. Cale was, well, Cale. Gorgeous, snarky, composed. Slightly bad-tempered, yes, and he had a tendency to be rude, but he was loyal to those he considered family and honourable to a fault.
Not to mention a freaking vampire who had hundreds of years of experience under his belt and a bevy of former lovers, none of who had believed him when he'd said Cale was his – until his vampire had tried to rip off the arm of a nymph who'd touched him.
So, yeah, Cale was a gorgeous vampire who knew what he was all about.
Eoin was, obviously, anything but.
He was human, so no magic, no preternatural or supernatural powers. His hair was a mass of ginger red curls that he rarely bothered to comb because the brush tended to snarl. His eyes were a muddy brown that Cale often said were the colour of bittersweet chocolate – which Eoin so didn't understand because in his mind, chocolate equalled sweetness and sweet did not go with bitter. His skin was as almost as pale as Cale's, though that was as much from genetics as it was from keeping to vampire hours. He supposed he was just lucky he was one of those redheads who freckled, not burned.
But he knew Cale, knew the vampire loved him for everything that he was, not despite it. And Eoin loved the bastard back.
But it still amused him to watch the vampire wake.
Cale slept like the dead. Which was, hey, kind of redundant since he was, technically, dead. But, yeah, slept like the dead and all, right until the sun set, disappearing under the horizon.
Right on cue, Cale abruptly sat up, as if his upper body had been set on a spring and released. His hair was a golden fuzzball around his head. His brilliant grey eyes were narrowed from sleep and there was a line along his cheek from a pillow crease. The sheet had dropped from when he'd sat up, to reveal a perfectly toned body, sleek and hard.
He scowled when he saw Eoin, seated clear across the room. "What in hades are you doing over there?" His full mouth fell into a pout. "Come here."
Eoin laughed, shook his head. "No can do."
"What? Why not?"
"Noir just called. We're needed. It's time to get moving."
His pout deepened. "Don't want to. Fuck Noir. Come here."
Eoin felt his lips quirk, knew it would only annoy Cale further and did nothing to stop them. "No. Come on."
"Don't want to." Cale repeated and shifted, going to his hands and knees. "Come here."
Eoin shifted, knowing what was coming. He reacted far too slowly – but then, he was human and no match for vampire speed. With a mere bunch of his muscles, Cale had sailed through the air and tackled his lover, easily twisting him off the chair and onto the floor. Immediately, the vampire plastered himself to his lover's body.
Lowering his nose to Eoin's neck, Cale breathed deep, his body going lax. He was heavy, yes, but it felt good so Eoin allowed him to snuggle – not that the vampire would admit to it. As Cale had so often informed him, vampires did not snuggle. Eoin's standard reply was no, they just glomped, which always resulted in said glomping – and some other stuff – happening.
When Cale started nuzzling, though, Eoin knew it was time to start moving. Nuzzling only led to kissing which led to licking, or maybe biting, which led to some very nice things, but not at moment. Well, actually, it was always good but Noir would kill – actually kill kill them instead of just glare kill them – if they were late.
Putting his hands on Cale's shoulders, Eoin started pushing, knowing better than to wriggle. Wriggling – or any movement that involved his hips – only encouraged the darned vampire. Finally realising that he wasn't responding – his lover could be so slow sometimes, especially when it came to Eoin saying no to sex – Cale raised his head, dark brows furrowed over his eyes. "What is it?"
"Noir," Eoin repeated patiently. "Call. Emergency meeting. Now."
"I. Don't. Want. To. Noir can save the world without us for once."
Before he could bend his head back down, Eoin grabbed hold of it, forced Cale to look into his eyes. "He doesn't want to save the world, just find who's inciting the goblins to break the Vernon Treaty of '18. And it's not him. It's, and I quote, 'stupid-brother-who-had-to-go-and-marry-some-half-daemon-half-mage-and-so-that-means-we-have-to-help-out-his-father-in-law's fault'."
It took Cale's still half asleep mind a while to work through that. As he did so, Eoin took the opportunity to, using his grip on his lover's head, push the vampire off him, rising up and heading for the front door.
Cale reached it before he'd crossed the living room. "Okay, fine, we're going, but Noir owes us and you are spending three days in bed, with me. And we're sleeping in for all of them."
Eoin smiled as Cale jerked the door open. "That's great and I totally agree but – maybe you should put some clothes on before you help us save the world."
Cale paused, looked down at his still naked form and growled. "By the Gorge's Light!" He slammed the door shut and stormed to their room, slamming that door shut as well.
And Eoin watched him, knowing there was a ridiculous large smile on his face and unable – and unwilling – to do anything about it. Yes, it always amused him to watch his lover wake up.
He loved it.