They pulled into Cain's hotel's fancy circular drop-off area just after three in the morning. This time, Cain was riding and David was sitting behind him on the high-powered sport bike, trusting the mortal knew what he was talking about when he'd described owning his own bike and looked longingly at the ride David had parked in his garage at home. They'd had a good night and, after six hours of sumptuous fucking, drinking and video game playing - not always in that order - the vampire had felt more than generous towards his temporary house guest. He liked that Cain knew the score, that he didn't want to overstay his welcome and he was feeling generous; he was game to let someone who knew what they were doing operate his bike.
It hadn't been much of a gamble in the end, for Cain was indeed a highly experienced rider and he knew exactly how to treat the machine bearing him back to his hotel. When they stopped, David got off so that Cain could dismount and when he did, he grabbed the mortal for one last, heavy kiss. It didn't bother him that the flourescent lights above the driveway highlighted their passionate parting, he felt good about the time he'd spent with the mortal. So good, in fact, that when the seal of their lips broke, he made an unusual offer: "You want my number?" he asked Cain huskily, instinctively licking the boy's taste off his pouty lips as he watched him for his reaction. His hands were still on Cain's hips, his body close to the warmth he was about to farewell.
Off to the side, where the garden edging the driveway was a landscaped masterpiece, a snort of derision came to the vampire's ears. He glanced in that direction - over Cain's shoulder - and saw a smoker getting his fix in the shadows. He was a guy not much older than Cain and of similar build - tall, dark and muscular. His look was preppier, though; his hair was cut tidily and he was wearing jeans, sneakers and a local high school letterman's jacket. Just your average student lurking where he thought he couldn't be seen to suck some nicotine into his body because it was forbidden in the hotel. He obviously knew that David's eyesight was supernatural, though, for when he was looked at, he sneered and jerked his chin upward in greeting, blowing out a plume of smoke instead of giving further comment. David looked back at Cain, awaiting his answer and mildly perturbed by the odd little side exchange.
Immersed in those shadows, Toby Jameson certainly did know what was going on. David's assessment of him wasn't far wrong; he'd been a star football player in high school but his career had ended there. Now he was doing crappy arts courses (and failing) at Watson five years on, already reliving his glory days to anyone who would listen and his life felt like it was slowly going down the shitter. He'd found some relief when he was accepted as an Oligarchy donor two years ago and had been making great money while he filled out a unique 'type' on their books, getting requested for by plenty of hot vampires... until Cain had come along and stolen his thunder. Not only had the guy with the fucked-up eyes looked like him - but edgier - he'd somehow managed to get the attention of the fucking Luminary and a couple of Oligarchs.
Toby hated Cain with a purity borne of insane jealousy and simmering resentment. Now, here his nemesis was, turning up in the early hours of the morning on a sexy bike with an even sexier vampire who offered the asshole his number? How much fucking more was he going to have to take from this cock? It'd been bad enough that Vomas hadn't ditched him in the transition - probably because the fucking whore had sucked his cock just right when he'd drunk from him - but now he was getting back on his feet and into the game faster than him? Well, fuck Cain. And the ass he rode in with. He sneered at the vampire and lifted his chin at him, mentally telling the angellic-looking blonde to go fuck himself with his barely-there white shirt and tight jeans.