fic exchange: Abstract Phantom of the Waking State
Written by: sweetmac_05
Title: Abstract Phantom of the Waking State
Rating: Hard R, I'd say.
Pairing: Cash/Singer, Ian/Marshall, Cab GSF. Implied!Panic GSF and Pete/Patrick
Recipient: riflethrough
Summary: He maybe chokes on his coffee a little bit. "What, and you think having an orgy will magically fix that?" Cash snaps when he gets enough air back in his lungs.
It's the morning after a hotel night, and Cash is pretty sure that nothing is out of the ordinary. He's just sipping on some shitty complimentary coffee, flipping through Spanish soap operas and waiting for one Alex Deleon to hurry the fuck up with blow drying his hair so they can head down to the van. No matter how glad he is that he got to sleep in a bed the night before, he's a little tired of the room's tan walls and lime green bedspreads. It's just gross.
It's very much the same as every other time they realize that, hey, they have enough money to rent a few rooms without having to go without starve themselves the next day.
He's not really so sure, however, when Alex walks out of the bathroom, fluffy, freshly dried curls bouncing as he goes, then crawls into his lap and says "I think we should have sex with our band" as nonchalantly as if he was discussing lunch for the day or clothing choices for the show that night.
Cash maybe chokes on his coffee a little bit.
Alex doesn't miss a beat while he waits for Cash to stop coughing and his skin to turn back to a normal colour, slipping a hand behind him to rub his back as he continues talking, "Marsh and Ian were talking to me about it, and it really makes sense. It's not very fair for Johnson to have to put up with the rest of his band pairing up and fucking on every available surface without gettin' any himself. Seriously, it's almost cruel."
"What, and you think having an orgy will magically fix that?" Cash snaps when he gets enough air back in his lungs, "Because, seriously? I'm not seeing the logic here. That's the kind of shit that fucks bands up."
But Alex is unperturbed, shaking his head in earnest. "Not us, not our band." His tone is confident, even though his face may have fallen a bit with Cash not immediately hopping on the love train, "We'll be fine. If Panic can do it then we definitely can." He pauses, fingers unconsciously slipping up from Cash's back to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Maybe Pete wouldn't be able to do it... but that's just because he wouldn't want to share Patrick with anybody, not even his band."
Cash is quiet, and Alex really isn't sure if he's alright with that. He was expecting him to jump on the idea, to be as excited as the rest of them... but, obviously that isn't the case. Finally Cash speaks up. "What if," he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What if I don't want to share you? I don't," he sighs, closing his eyes and speaking the next part quickly, "I don't want to lose you, even to our band."
Alex's face dawns with realization, and he smiles widely before leaning down to kiss Cash once more. "Baby," he's more quiet now, "don't worry. There'll be no losing me, I promise. I'm all yours." His kiss is a little more lingering this time, eyes closing and a hand reaching up to tilt Cash's chin back. "I love you," he whispers against his boyfriend's lips, and then grins when the sentiment is returned.
Cash? Well... he's not exactly thrilled with what they're getting themselves into, and he still thinks it's a hella bad idea... but he would do much more than sleep with his band mates for Alex, without question, and it isn't long before Alex has him agreeing.
-----
When the five of them reach their next hotel, they head to their respective rooms at first. But it isn't long before they're all huddled in Johnson's hotel room, Ian and Marshall sitting on the bed, Cash standing next to Johnson, and Alex kind of residing in the middle of them all.
For a moment it's pretty awkward-Cash feels like it would probably be appropriate for him to start shuffling his feet, but the better part of his mind makes him refrain from doing so. It's awkward-until Alex, seeing his fantasy about to crash and burn, takes action.
"Who wants to see me get naked?" He trills, pulling his shirt off and going for his belt. Alex's giggles area infectious and, just like that, the tension in the room is gone. Marshall is the first to move, scrambling out of Ian's lap, tearing his shirt off in the process and batting Alex's hands away from his waist, working on the buckle himself. Ian is quick to follow, however-and in a few moments they're all shirtless and getting each other's pants down, kissing and giggling and basically all over each other.
Cash isn't jealous, really. His hands don't itch to rip Ian and his stupid tongue right off of Alex and out of his mouth, and he certainly doesn't want to drag his boyfriend far, far away so that only HE can touch him. But... really? He does. Because, this? Watching them put their hands all over him? Is SO not fair. He starts to realize that this whole night wasn't actually in the name of getting Johnson laid, but really of those three getting to fuck each other.
"So," Johnson starts, clearing his throat. "They seem to be having fun, and I think it would only be right if we had a share in the fun as well." That doesn't do much to make Cash feel better, because Johnson is being so fucking polite and cordial and... not Johnson-y. That is, until he speaks again.
Johnson raises an eyebrow. "No, I don't think you understood me," he frowns. "Take off your pants. Fucking get naked already." And his demand sounds so ridiculous that Cash can't help but laugh and he complies. But, obviously Johnson isn't very down with Cash's laughter, because he very quickly sets about shutting him up-by catching him off guard and taking his cock in his mouth.
Cash maybe chokes on air.
It's good. It's really, really, good, actually, if different than what he's used to. It isn't Alex's soft, warm mouth wrapped around him, or his smooth, almost delicate fingers grasping at his base... but chapped lips and sure, calloused hands. Frankly, Cash is a little surprised that he enjoys it so much. But, oh, how he enjoys it.
The head is so good, in fact, that, at first, he doesn't notice Alex getting on his hands and knees, opening his mouth for Marshall's cock and moaning loudly around it as Ian slides slowly into him. When he does open his eyes and witness it he's not so jealous in that moment as he is envious, wishing that he was with them in that jumble of raw emotion. The three of them fit together so perfectly... and that's not even bringing to the forefront how fucking hot it all is. Cash feels himself tensing up much quicker than he normally would, Johnson pulling back and stilling his hand as he comes.
Sleepy and sedate, Cash tries not to think about how weird it is that he's jerking off his drummer as his boyfriend gets fucked by two of his best friends. It works as he wipes his sticky hand off on the carpet, as he's stumbling over and onto the bed with his band mates. It works as he draws Alex, who is bouncing on Ian's lap, into a kiss, stilling the motion... though it does cross his mind once or twice that he's pretty much licking Marshall's jizz out of his mouth.
When Alex comes, it's with four sets of hands and lips on him. He clutches Cash's shoulders, shuddering through it with their mouths connected, before giving into exhaustion and slumping against him. They all share the bed, tangled amongst one another, though Cash spoons Alex to him unconsciously and protectively. As they curl together he mumbles a bleary "I love you" into Alex's ear, and is rewarded by a mess of tired syllables that could maybe be interpreted as the same.
Grinning tiredly, Cash weaves his fingers through Johnson's hair and bumps toes with Ian. So, this is his reality.
Title: Abstract Phantom of the Waking State
Rating: Hard R, I'd say.
Pairing: Cash/Singer, Ian/Marshall, Cab GSF. Implied!Panic GSF and Pete/Patrick
Recipient: riflethrough
Summary: He maybe chokes on his coffee a little bit. "What, and you think having an orgy will magically fix that?" Cash snaps when he gets enough air back in his lungs.
It's the morning after a hotel night, and Cash is pretty sure that nothing is out of the ordinary. He's just sipping on some shitty complimentary coffee, flipping through Spanish soap operas and waiting for one Alex Deleon to hurry the fuck up with blow drying his hair so they can head down to the van. No matter how glad he is that he got to sleep in a bed the night before, he's a little tired of the room's tan walls and lime green bedspreads. It's just gross.
It's very much the same as every other time they realize that, hey, they have enough money to rent a few rooms without having to go without starve themselves the next day.
He's not really so sure, however, when Alex walks out of the bathroom, fluffy, freshly dried curls bouncing as he goes, then crawls into his lap and says "I think we should have sex with our band" as nonchalantly as if he was discussing lunch for the day or clothing choices for the show that night.
Cash maybe chokes on his coffee a little bit.
Alex doesn't miss a beat while he waits for Cash to stop coughing and his skin to turn back to a normal colour, slipping a hand behind him to rub his back as he continues talking, "Marsh and Ian were talking to me about it, and it really makes sense. It's not very fair for Johnson to have to put up with the rest of his band pairing up and fucking on every available surface without gettin' any himself. Seriously, it's almost cruel."
"What, and you think having an orgy will magically fix that?" Cash snaps when he gets enough air back in his lungs, "Because, seriously? I'm not seeing the logic here. That's the kind of shit that fucks bands up."
But Alex is unperturbed, shaking his head in earnest. "Not us, not our band." His tone is confident, even though his face may have fallen a bit with Cash not immediately hopping on the love train, "We'll be fine. If Panic can do it then we definitely can." He pauses, fingers unconsciously slipping up from Cash's back to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Maybe Pete wouldn't be able to do it... but that's just because he wouldn't want to share Patrick with anybody, not even his band."
Cash is quiet, and Alex really isn't sure if he's alright with that. He was expecting him to jump on the idea, to be as excited as the rest of them... but, obviously that isn't the case. Finally Cash speaks up. "What if," he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What if I don't want to share you? I don't," he sighs, closing his eyes and speaking the next part quickly, "I don't want to lose you, even to our band."
Alex's face dawns with realization, and he smiles widely before leaning down to kiss Cash once more. "Baby," he's more quiet now, "don't worry. There'll be no losing me, I promise. I'm all yours." His kiss is a little more lingering this time, eyes closing and a hand reaching up to tilt Cash's chin back. "I love you," he whispers against his boyfriend's lips, and then grins when the sentiment is returned.
Cash? Well... he's not exactly thrilled with what they're getting themselves into, and he still thinks it's a hella bad idea... but he would do much more than sleep with his band mates for Alex, without question, and it isn't long before Alex has him agreeing.
-----
When the five of them reach their next hotel, they head to their respective rooms at first. But it isn't long before they're all huddled in Johnson's hotel room, Ian and Marshall sitting on the bed, Cash standing next to Johnson, and Alex kind of residing in the middle of them all.
For a moment it's pretty awkward-Cash feels like it would probably be appropriate for him to start shuffling his feet, but the better part of his mind makes him refrain from doing so. It's awkward-until Alex, seeing his fantasy about to crash and burn, takes action.
"Who wants to see me get naked?" He trills, pulling his shirt off and going for his belt. Alex's giggles area infectious and, just like that, the tension in the room is gone. Marshall is the first to move, scrambling out of Ian's lap, tearing his shirt off in the process and batting Alex's hands away from his waist, working on the buckle himself. Ian is quick to follow, however-and in a few moments they're all shirtless and getting each other's pants down, kissing and giggling and basically all over each other.
Cash isn't jealous, really. His hands don't itch to rip Ian and his stupid tongue right off of Alex and out of his mouth, and he certainly doesn't want to drag his boyfriend far, far away so that only HE can touch him. But... really? He does. Because, this? Watching them put their hands all over him? Is SO not fair. He starts to realize that this whole night wasn't actually in the name of getting Johnson laid, but really of those three getting to fuck each other.
"So," Johnson starts, clearing his throat. "They seem to be having fun, and I think it would only be right if we had a share in the fun as well." That doesn't do much to make Cash feel better, because Johnson is being so fucking polite and cordial and... not Johnson-y. That is, until he speaks again.
Johnson raises an eyebrow. "No, I don't think you understood me," he frowns. "Take off your pants. Fucking get naked already." And his demand sounds so ridiculous that Cash can't help but laugh and he complies. But, obviously Johnson isn't very down with Cash's laughter, because he very quickly sets about shutting him up-by catching him off guard and taking his cock in his mouth.
Cash maybe chokes on air.
It's good. It's really, really, good, actually, if different than what he's used to. It isn't Alex's soft, warm mouth wrapped around him, or his smooth, almost delicate fingers grasping at his base... but chapped lips and sure, calloused hands. Frankly, Cash is a little surprised that he enjoys it so much. But, oh, how he enjoys it.
The head is so good, in fact, that, at first, he doesn't notice Alex getting on his hands and knees, opening his mouth for Marshall's cock and moaning loudly around it as Ian slides slowly into him. When he does open his eyes and witness it he's not so jealous in that moment as he is envious, wishing that he was with them in that jumble of raw emotion. The three of them fit together so perfectly... and that's not even bringing to the forefront how fucking hot it all is. Cash feels himself tensing up much quicker than he normally would, Johnson pulling back and stilling his hand as he comes.
Sleepy and sedate, Cash tries not to think about how weird it is that he's jerking off his drummer as his boyfriend gets fucked by two of his best friends. It works as he wipes his sticky hand off on the carpet, as he's stumbling over and onto the bed with his band mates. It works as he draws Alex, who is bouncing on Ian's lap, into a kiss, stilling the motion... though it does cross his mind once or twice that he's pretty much licking Marshall's jizz out of his mouth.
When Alex comes, it's with four sets of hands and lips on him. He clutches Cash's shoulders, shuddering through it with their mouths connected, before giving into exhaustion and slumping against him. They all share the bed, tangled amongst one another, though Cash spoons Alex to him unconsciously and protectively. As they curl together he mumbles a bleary "I love you" into Alex's ear, and is rewarded by a mess of tired syllables that could maybe be interpreted as the same.
Grinning tiredly, Cash weaves his fingers through Johnson's hair and bumps toes with Ian. So, this is his reality.