Ya remember that smut I wrote? Yeah, well I decided to write more drabbles (one-shots) with that pairing. They won't all be smut (this one isn't) but some will be.
Damon and Cyr! (and Fluffy!)
Damon Fizzy and Cyr
None, unless you are terrified of fluff. In that case, you should not read this. It is very fluffy.
Let's just all assume that all of these drabbles will be AU, both from the normal real-life universe and from each other (unless I mention otherwise)
K+ for minor kissing and some hair-touching. And lots of fluff.
“Up and at ‘em, Cyr!” Cyr groaned and rolled over, falling off the couch and landing in a heap on the carpet. He blearily opened one chocolate-brown eye and stared at the blurry figure of Damon standing above him. Still half-asleep, he fumbled for his glasses, finally finding them a few feet away and slipping them on. Then he yawned and pushed himself to his feet, taking in the sunset light coming through the windows of the white-walled apartment.
“Damon?” he mumbled, almost collapsing into Damon’s arms.
“Mmm?” Damon replied, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
“Wha time issit?”
Damon laughed, looked at his watch, and cursed loudly. Cyr blinked at him, confused. Damon cursed again. “They’re gonna be here in 10 minutes and I haven’t even started the spaghetti!” Cyr merely stared. Damon chuckled.
“You really are tired, aren’t you? We invited all the others to come over, remember? Since we haven’t seen them in months?”
Understanding gradually came to Cyr, and he nodded slowly. “Do--do ya need help with the spaghetti?”
Damon shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just put on some pants, ‘kay?”
Cyr looked down and was surprised to see that he was wearing only his boxers. If it was anyone other than Damon who had noticed he would’ve been embarrassed to all hell, but Damon was used to seeing him in much less. As Damon hurried out of the room and into the kitchen to cook the spaghetti, Cyr trudged over to the closet. It took all his willpower not to collapse on the couch and take a nap, but he wasn’t exactly ready for his friends to see him without pants. Even so, it took quite a while just to find an acceptable pair of shorts, and by the time he’d pulled them on and fastened the belt, the doorbell rang and Damon was rushing to answer it, pasta abandoned. Cyr, barefoot and shirtless but at least wearing pants, headed over to greet his friends.
It certainly had been a long time since he’d seen the others; he was pretty sure that he and Damon hadn’t even known their feelings for each other the last time they’d gotten together. But they were all there. Greg, his shaggy brown hair hanging in his face as always, Stefan, who for once was wearing a shirt, even Jack and Sean were standing at the door. Cyr stood next to Damon, who put an arm over Cyr’s shoulder, oblivious to the heavy blush growing on Cyr’s face. The others looked a little confused as well, but Damon didn’t seem to notice, as he greeted them all, grinning, and led them to the kitchen. Cyr followed them, still trying to shake off his tiredness.
Damon, stirring the spaghetti, called out. “Mind getting plates, honey-bun?”
Cyr’s blush deepened when he realized that Damon was addressing him. Didn’t the guy have any
sense? But he dutifully obliged, pulling six plates out of the cabinet and setting them down next to the stove. Damon kissed him quickly on the cheek, and Cyr stared at the ground as if by looking at it hard enough, he would sink into it. Luckily, the others didn’t say anything, but gathered around Damon and peered into the steaming pot.
“Spaghetti again?” Stefan asked, and Greg rolled his eyes.
“Dude, that’s what you made last time!” Jack said. Damon laughed.
“Yeah, but that was six months ago. And that’s the only thing I know how to cook.”
Sean sighed. “Allright. Spaghetti again.”
At that moment, an egg timer rang, and Damon quickly switched off the stove and grabbed a large spoon. He waved the others to go sit at the table, and pulled the plates towards him.
“Hun, will you help me with this?”
Cyr, cursing under his breath, shuffled over to his boyfriend and handed him plates, one at a time, to be filled with spaghetti.
When had all received their food, Damon and Cyr sat down at the two empty seats at the table, which, of course, were next to each other on the end. They ate in silence, the only sound being slurping and chewing as the six boys devoured their meal. The whole time, Cyr tried to avoid Damon’s gaze, focusing only on his steadily emptying plate. Normally he loved Damon’s company, but with all his friends around, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit to them his feelings for Damon. If worst came to worst, he’d admit he liked
him, but never in that w---
His thoughts were cut off by the feeling of lips on his. His eyes widened when he realized what was happening. If only his and Damon’s plates weren’t so close together...and the noodles so long...he saw the others’ eyes round with shock and he quickly pulled his mouth away from Damon’s, taking the end of the noodle with him. His face grew hot, his cheeks flushing. This was something straight out of a Disney movie; he didn’t even know it was physically possible, let alone happening to him. He stared at his almost-empty plate, trying to avoid the burning stares of his friends, but Damon didn’t seem at all affected, laughing like it was meant to happen. Cyr wanted to be anywhere but
here; in this apartment, at this table, his five best friends all wide-eyed, open-mouthed, shocked. Cyr laughed nervously, his face a dark magenta.
Greg’s jaw dropped. “Dude, are you two like--”
Cyr hastily interrupted him. “No, it was just an accident. We are not g--”
He couldn’t finish, though, because Damon quickly butted in, beaming. “Yeah, we are. Guys, I want you to meet my new boyfriend, Vincent Cyr.”
Cyr’s glare was murderous, but the grin never left Damon’s face. The others were in various states of shock. “That’s just--” Jack stammered.
Greg was wide-eyed. “Whoa, man, I never would’ve thought--”
-iously?” Stefan laughed at his little pun.
Sean smiled. “You know, you guys are actually perfect for each other.”
Damon beamed at him, earrings glinting. Cyr’s face lost a little of its blush, but maybe it was just tired of having the redness constantly plastered on his cheeks.
“Yeah, you are.” the others chorused. A little bit of happiness returned to Cyr and, making the most of the moment, he kissed Damon on the lips. He heard cheering and clapping from his friends, but it sounded faint and distant, as if they were merely specks on the horizon. He closed his eyes as he held the kiss, feeling Damon’s gentle fingers in his messy dark hair until slowly, they broke apart. Cyr could feel the others gazing at them, but this time he didn’t care. The kiss had brought his mind to a place it would never return from.
The rest of the evening was a blur. Cyr couldn’t remember what happened after dinner, just a dim impression of laughter and grinning faces, soft hands and gentle kisses. His mind had fluttered out of his body, and it had no intention of coming back. All he knew was after what felt like hours, his eyelids began to droop and his head felt far too heavy to be supported by his neck, and his legs began to feel like melting butter. He yawned loudly, trying to get the others’ attention, but they were caught up in conversation. Someone must’ve told a joke, because they all threw their heads back in raucous laughter, not noticing Cyr’s head digging into Damon’s shoulder, his eyes half-closed. The exhaustion was forming heat waves that radiated off his skin, and he was surprised that Damon’s side wasn’t burned by now. His nose, which had been slightly clogged all day, felt like it was tightening, compressing on itself, and Cyr gave a loud sniffle.
After what felt like hours of laying there, the heat radiating off his body pulling him out of sleep, Damon finally noticed Cyr’s head burrowed in his lap. He chuckled.
“Dude, Cyr!” Cyr blearily opened one eye, sniffling. “You slept all day! You’re tired again
Cyr nodded, hardly registering what Damon was saying. “It’s only 9:00!” Jack laughed, and Cyr buried his face in Damon’s shirt, trying to avoid the stares. He wanted more than anything to be out of this room, away from all the eyes trained on him, the laughter, the noise. He wanted to just be alone, with Damon, somewhere more comfortable than here. And--
“I want Fluffy..” With a jolt, he realized that the small whimper came from him. He burrowed his head deep in the folds of Damon’s jacket, hiding the blush deepening on his cheeks. Did he really just say that? He sneezed violently, making Damon jump.
“Fluffy?” Stefan, laughing, turned a critical eye towards the boy, whose dark hair was now being lightly stroked by the back of Damon’s hand. Cyr gave a small whimper, and Damon jumped to the rescue.
“Yeah, Fluffy. He’s our--our cat. Yeah, we have a cat now. We..uh..we didn’t tell you that, did we?”
Now it was Damon’s turn to blush, as the others stared at him with narrowed eyes.
“Aren’t you allergic?” Sean said, sneering slightly. Damon slumped his shoulders, occupying himself with trying to pull Cyr’s head out of his jacket. Aware of his friends’ critical stares, he coughed loudly.
“Did I say cat? I meant our....um...our alligator!”
“Alligator? What? You must have misheard me. I definitely
“I lied. Kangaroo.”
“Oh, allright. It’s Cyr’s stuffed panda.”
Cyr didn’t have the energy to be angry at his boyfriend, but sniffled and rested his head in Damon’s lap once more. The others started giggling, but stopped at the murderous glare that Damon gave them. Damon sighed, stroking Cyr’s hair once more. Cyr sneezed, and it was then that he noticed the heat radiating off of Cyr’s body.
“Cyr, you’re burning up! Hey, why don’t you go to bed?”
“Noo...” Cyr whimpered, clinging to Damon’s leg as he tried to stand. Damon sighed and sat down again. The boys sat in relative silence, unsure of what to say, until finally, Cyr lifted his head slightly. “Fluffy?” he asked, his voice small and slightly hoarse.
Damon sighed, gently stroking his hair. “Just go back to sleep,” he said softly. Cyr narrowed his eyes.
“No! I want Fluffy!”
Damon shook his head. Cyr pouted, his brown eyes growing large and slightly watery.
Damon sighed. He had to admit, Cyr looked extremely comical, and rather cute, like this, and it wasn’t even because he was still shirtless. His nose was red and inflamed, his dark hair sticking out in all directions, and his cheeks were slightly flushed.
“Fine,” Damon said, resigned. “I’ll get you Fluffy. But only because you’re adorable when you’re sick.” He stood up, and Cyr rolled off the couch, clinging to his leg. Damon carefully shook him off and walked briskly into the other room, returning moments later with a large stuffed panda.
“Here. Take Fluffy.” Cyr smiled, sniffling, and pounced back onto the couch, hugging the panda close to his chest. Damon sat back down, and Cyr put his head back in Damon’s lap, smiling as he buried his face in Fluffy’s soft fur. Damon smiled at his sick boyfriend as he sneezed softly and drifted into sleep.
Half an hour later, when his friends had left, Damon finally stirred from his position on the couch. Careful not to wake Cyr, he slid off the seat and grabbed onto him, trying in vain to lift the taller boy. When that didn’t work, he consented to drag him across the floor and into the bedroom. Cyr coughed quietly but didn’t wake up; Damon knew from experience that his boyfriend was an extremely heavy sleeper. Depositing him rather unceremoniously on the king bed they shared, Damon dashed back into the other room and brought Fluffy. He placed it down next to Cyr and tucked the covers up to his chin, then stood back and looked at him. He was snoring quietly, curled up on his side, and he shifted, still asleep, wrapping his arm around Fluffy and drawing it close to his face. Damon smiled, flicked off the light, and tiptoed out.
Yay! Hope you didn't die from fluff overload!