Work Text:
"Where are you exactly?" Camus asks, concern slowly showing itself in his voice.
"Where am I," Cecil pauses slightly. "Metro."
Camus stays silent for a while. Cecil hears subtle noises on the other end of the line, signaling that Camus was heading out. Cecil sighs.
"Are you drunk?" asks the count.
"Drunk? No, I mean, not really. Just a little tipsy. That's it."
"So you are drunk, after all." Camus grunts.
"Camus, I told y-" He's interrupted by the stern voice of his senior.
"Shut up. Stay there. I'm on the way." And he hangs up without letting Cecil speak any further. There he goes.
Cecil lets himself slid down the cold pillar onto the floor, head resting against it. He closes his eyes and inhales the chilly autumn air. The young idol originally had no plans to end up hazy, but well, some things were inevitable. He braces himself for the scolding he was going to get very soon, most likely.
Not more than 10 minutes later, Cecil spots familiar champagne locks steadily walking towards him. No surprise. Camus was a reckless driver. Everyone avoided making him drive, for it always resulted in loud screaming in the car and numerous speed tickets. Reckless in every aspect of his being, if you think about it.
"I thought you would call me when you arrived," Cecil says to Camus when he's finally close enough to hear his sluggish talking.
Camus gives him a cold glare and his frown deepens "Fool. You can't even walk."
The prince can't help but chuckle "Correct." The former rolls his eyes.
"Come," The blond holds out his pale hand. "Lean on me."
Cecil gladly takes the hand, squeezing it a little. Truly, he could barely walk. Having in no way enough sense of balance to keep his head up, he hesitantly lets it fall on the taller man's shoulder. He waits for a growl. Camus, breaking the odds, only pays him an insensible glance, not even close to the menacing look he usually throws out. Encouraging. Cecil tightens his embrace on the man. No word again. It feels warm, despite Camus always being inexplicably cold. Cecil, not being the best in concealing his thoughts or feelings, smiles contently. Camus seems to be biting the insides of his cheeks, struggling to keep one from forming. Clear as the day.
Camus was like a cloudy summer sky. It's gloomy and definitely not what you'd like in the middle of august. Yet the sun occasionally reveals itself, warm as ever. Camus almost always kept on with his distant, detached demeanor, refusing to show any real signs of affection or even plain sympathy. However, there were times his façade cracked like ice, moments where he finally relented to his emotions, his heart. Cecil had been witnessing them more and more. As they grew closer, Cecil's initial annoyance with him had been long since gone. No matter how rude Camus acted towards him, Cecil knew it was just the same for the count.
Camus helps Cecil get into the car still cozy, cautiously guiding him so that he doesn't hit his head on the top. Cecil barely dodges, but it's okay. Camus then takes his place in the driver's seat, seemingly not intending to start the car any time soon. Cecil watches him. The count keeps looking straight ahead, his stare so intense that one could think there was something going on in the street.
"You didn't tell me you would drink when you said you were going out," he suddenly speaks.
Cecil's raises his brows "Should I have?"
Camus finally looks his way, no hint of the usual scowl in his face. "I'd rather that." He frowns slightly. "I mean I... I... You make me worry. D-Don't get me wrong. I just-" He stops speaking, suddenly gets into a huff.
"Camus," Cecil says quietly before leaning in for a kiss, completely skipping the thought process- Nothing out of the ordinary. He expects his senior to back off, instead he responds the same way, slowly closing the distance between them. He is aware, Cecil thinks. Before he knows, they're sharing a sweet kiss, might or might not be because of the amount of sugar Camus consumes. Cecil cups the older man's pretty face with his hand, stroking his jaw dotingly, cherishing the shared moment. They finally break away. Cecil is pleasantly surprised at the outcome, he smiles engagingly. Camus, on the other hand, looks absolutely shocked. Rosy lips parted, eyes wide open. It appears that he definitely wants to say things, but doesn't know what and how.
Cecil lets out a giggle as he reaches for the man's head, pulls him down. Getting blond strands out of the way, he plants a kiss on Camus's pale forehead. The latter doesn't react at all, yet Cecil can feel warmth spreading.
"Will you drive us home," Cecil asks since Camus makes no moves. "The guys are probably getting worried."
Camus turns to the prince and smiles warmly, blue eyes lit. "I will."