“Aaand…sixes.” Abram throws the cards toward the center and hunches back over his hand. With a loud sigh, Cooper drops his feet back off the table and waits for Abram to decide on his move. He glances toward the hallway. Isn’t there anything else he’s supposed to do today? It seems to be just a lazy morning for everyone in the Tomb of Thieves.
Sades hasn’t emerged from his room; Hunter hasn’t even made an appearance—even Red is taking a nap for once.
Cooper has to yawn several times and tap his foot to shake the table before Abram is woken from his reverie. “Huh? Oh. Right.” He slides two cards onto his pile. Obviously a jack and nine, but Cooper decides to let it go for the moment and place a pair onto his own pile.
“Your turn, go on—” he waves a hand at Abram, noting the change of shadows from his right. Cooper turns to see Hunter—that kid was an apparition. He hadn’t even noticed him standing there, smirking.
“Hey kid, d’ya need me for som—” Cooper’s sentence is cut off and his cards flutter to the floor as Hunter’s lips meet his own. Cooper somehow can’t regain control of his mind—only focus on the warmth of Hunter’s lips moving against his, the pressure of a hand balancing against his leg, Hunter’s hand pressed into his hair.
Somehow the sensation is accompanied by the arid scent of ash and tang of soap and some sort of vegetation. After seemingly an eternity, Cooper regains his senses enough to grasp the front of Hunter’s vest, pull the kid closer, and start to retaliate—but the smirk returns, defiant against his lips, and cooper opens his eyes just in time to see the flash of fanged earrings as Hunter pulls away.
The room resounds in silence. Cooper stares after him for a moment before Abram reaches across the table to slap the table. “What in the blazes was that?!”
“Huh?” Cooper runs a hand through his hair, thinking up some excuse. “Oh. Um…It was…I bet him, that he’d never kiss a guy…and…well.”
Abram whistles. “Must’ve been some amount of—”
“Just shut up and pass me your cards. I’ve gotta re-deal…”