holiday exchange: What A Nice Way To Spend The Year
Author: bluejbird
Title: What A Nice Way To Spend The Year
Rating: R
Pairing: Singer/Patrick, Cash/Pete, Singer/Cash
Recipient: elessar
Summary: Shenanigans ensue at Pete's annual Christmas party.
Cash reaches out and rings the doorbell. Beside him, Singer is bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation.
"This is going to be so much fun," Singer says, leaning in to Cash's side to grin at him.
Cash winks and nods. They'd heard stories, epic tales told in hushed, reverent tones, of previous years' events. Pete's annual Christmas/Hanukkah/Whatever-the-fuck-holiday celebration was legendary. So much so that it was generally just referred to as The Party, all other parties cowering in the shadow of its awesomeness.
None of the Cab had been able to go the previous year, for various reasons including touring and curfews and being a tiny bit scared of the 'big kids' (Singer's words, not Cash's). So this year's party was something they'd all been looking forward to since the invitation had beeped it's way onto their cell phones.
Cash, and Singer too, had been particularly looking forward to the party, ever since Spencer had casually mentioned how it was an anything goes type situation, a chance for everyone to let their hair down and take their pants off, if they so choose. Brendon had agreed, remarking that the motto of Pete's Christmas Party was 'love the one you're with, as often as possible, for the entire night'.
Cash glances over and meets Singer's eyes. "It's going to be great," he says, just as the door swings open.
"Mis amigos!" Gabe greets them, stepping back to allow them inside. "The party is already in full swing- the Cobra informed me that tonight is going to be a doozy. Shenanigans through the mother fucking roof!" He punctuates his words with a fist pump towards the sky.
Cash laughs and winks when Gabe slaps his ass as they step inside. Gabe throws his arms around both of their shoulders, ushering them towards the vast selection of booze and food laid out in the kitchen, then bids them farewell, making a beeline for the solitary figure of Brendon at the far end of the lounge.
Cash holds his fist out to Singer, who rolls his eyes, but bumps his own against it.
"Have fun," Cash says, wondering just how much fun Singer's going to have. And how much fun he's going to get up to himself.
There's a burst of ragtag applause and then someone- Ryan Ross, Cash sees, to his amusement- is waving around a microphone by the karaoke machine, declaring he's 'living in a powder keg and giving off sparks' and that is something Cash very much needs to see, so they both wander over to watch.
~~~
Alex watches as Ryan hands off the microphone to Patrick. He's well aware that Patrick willingly agreeing to sing karaoke means he's been drinking for awhile, but not too drunk that he's swaying on the spot, unable to read the words of 'Wuthering Heights'. Alex watches Patrick belt it out, making rude gestures at the wolf whistles that come from Pete's general direction throughout the song. Alex has always been in awe of Patrick- of his voice, of his talent, of the way he seems so insecure and so confidant at the same time. It's possible Alex has a teeny tiny crush, and accepting that is a big reason why he's come here tonight.
When Patrick relinquishes the microphone and makes his way back to the safety of the sofa, Alex follows, taking a seat beside him as soon as one is available. He lures Patrick into a discussion about the best Bowie album ("Sure, it's easy to say Ziggy is better than Man Who Sold The World, but they're two halves of a story, you can't compare them!" Patrick insists) until everyone else in the vicinity wanders off to escape the enthusiastic rant.
When Patrick pauses for breath, Alex interrupts to mention how he's been working on some songs for the new album. He watches Patrick's eyes light up with interest, and answers whatever questions about the songs he can until Patrick says, "Hang on, why don't you just show me?" and gets up to lead Alex to Pete's music room.
They pass by Cash on their way, who grabs Alex's arm and squeezes as they walk past, making Alex half turn to grin at him when he lets go. Cash, always as subtle as a brick, gives him a massive two thumbs up, but Patrick is ahead of him, talking about this great new piano Pete had just gotten, how clear and crisp each note was. Alex flips Cash off gently for good measure, and follows behind Patrick, trying not to glance at his ass too much on the way.
They close the door to the music room behind them, to drown out the noise of the party, and Patrick sits on one half of the piano stool, motioning for Alex to sit on the other end.
They mess around on the piano for over an hour, Alex singing snatches of new songs he's had mostly in his head, sometimes on paper, and Patrick nods along or makes suggestions or tells him he loves it, which makes Alex glow with pride.
Patrick's glass of vodka and coke empties twice while they play, and Alex happily gets up to refill it each time, leaving Patrick at the piano to play bars of the songs over and over. Alex tries not to grin too hard as he makes his way back to the kitchen to pour the drinks, being overly generous with the vodka.
He glances around the room briefly, spots Ryan and Johnson's heads bent low together while they share a joint, talking about something that makes Ryan wave his hand expressively in the air. He spots Cash over on the sofa, part of Pete's circle of listeners and tries to catch his eye, but Cash is too intent on Pete to turn around. Alex almost pauses to see how Cash will get Pete's attention, but the thought of Patrick's hands stretched across the piano keys, voice low and quiet while he sings, makes Alex turn away and back down the hallway towards the music room.
Patrick accepts the drink with a smile and a "I had an idea for the bridge part, here," and plays, and drinks until his fingers trip clumsily on the keys.
"Oops," Patrick laughs. It's rich and throaty and Alex licks his lips quickly. He takes the chance, leans in and kisses Patrick while he's still laughing, mouth open.
Patrick pulls back a little, until their mouths aren't touching. "Are you drunk?" he asks, sounding suspicious.
It makes Alex laugh, because he's pretty sure he's the most sober person at the party, wants to be, needs to be, so he can remember this properly.
He kisses Patrick again - Patrick Motherfucking Stump, his brain is exclaiming loudly, and it's better than that time he made out with Spencer Smith - and this time Patrick kisses him back. It's a little sloppy, a little hungry, and Patrick's hand rests warm and heavy on Alex's shoulder, fingers stroking over the fabric of his shirt and pulling him in closer.
They make out for what seems forever and not enough, and when Patrick pulls away for air, eyes glassy and lips wet, he breathes out "Wow," which is enough to tell Alex that tonight is most definitely going to be amazing.
Alex slides onto the floor, onto his knees. Patrick stares at him for a moment, confused.
"Turn around," Alex says. "There's a piano in the way."
Patrick swivels around, still frowning a little, and when Alex reaches out and puts his hands on Patrick's thighs, pushing them open, he makes a protesting noise.
"Hey, no, you don't have to-" he starts, but Alex chuckles and says "I want to!"
He slowly unzips Patrick's jeans, feeling him grow hard underneath the press of Alex's hand. Patrick hums happily, and Alex desperately wants to know if Patrick keeps humming when Alex has his dick in his mouth, or if he'll make even better noises.
He glances up at Patrick, who's watching him with lazy, alcohol laden eyes, gives him the chance to say no, but Patrick just smiles and slides his hand into Alex's curls.
Alex grins back and lowers his head.
~~~
Decaydance parties are always the best kind, Cash knows. He always enjoys himself at them, but this one he's enjoying particularly, because he has a purpose, a plan, an understanding. He has a cool bottle of beer in his hand and plenty of awesome people to talk to, and he's just seen Singer being led off by Patrick, so Singer is probably very happy right now, which is important to Cash.
Cash makes his way around the party, going from room to room, looking at the Christmas decorations, talking to people and moving on slowly. He takes his time, drawing it out, even though he already has a plan.
"You seen Patrick?" Joe asks, stopping him while he's getting another beer. Cash hands Joe one too, and shrugs, then directs him to the room that he'd last seen Ian and Greta in, busy playing a drinking game that involved the removal of clothing for no real reason Cash could determine.
Cash checks his watch, sees they've been at the party for a couple of hours now and so he makes his way over to where Pete is holding court at one end of the lounge. He's telling some loud, apparently hilarious story to Travis, Bill and Suarez.
"Cashmoney!" Pete crows when he spots him, and everyone shuffles around on the sofa to make room for him.
"You'll bow to tradition, right?" Pete demands. "All these fuckers are refusing."
Cash has no idea what Pete is talking about until he gestures at the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling, right above his head. Apparently Pete's position on the sofa has been well thought out.
Bill rolls his eyes. "Been there, done that," he says, sounding bored. "Besides, I'm too busy eyeing up new victims," he adds, casting his eyes around the room, sparsely populated now that people keep disappearing off in twos and threes and mores to various parts of the house.
"Marshall's in the kitchen," Cash says helpfully, grinning when Bill's eyes light up.
"Don't wait up," Bill says with a wink, and lopes off to the kitchen, Travis and Suarez trailing behind ("This I have to see," Travis insists with a smirk as he gets up).
There's now a huge expanse of sofa between himself and Pete, and Cash shimmies over, managing not to spill his beer in the process, which he's pretty proud of.
"Well?" Pete prompts, and points up at the mistletoe.
Cash grins, sets his beer down on the coffee table, and leans in.
Pete purses his lips, as if expecting a small peck, but Cash kisses him properly. He runs his tongue against Pete's puckered lips until they part and let him inside.
Pete is a good kisser, and Cash can't help but smile when Pete's hand moves up to rest on Cash's knee.
"Why, Mr Colligan," Pete jokes when they lean apart. "I didn't expect that. You surprised me."
"Bad surprise, or a good one?" Cash asks, warily.
He realises it's probably incredibly stupid to make out with someone who is essentially your boss, but Cash has never been one to shy away from something because it's stupid. Plus there were supposed to be no rules here at the party, so Pete can hardly complain, he hopes. Also Pete is hot, so Cash can't be held responsible for his actions.
Pete smirks. "Oh, good. Very good," he says and Cash kisses him again, slides his hand up Pete's chest and then down to slip under his shirt. He eases his fingers under the waistband of Pete's jeans.
Pete gasps against Cash's mouth.
"Shall we find somewhere a little more private?" Pete suggests, and Cash wiggles his fingers just a little, getting his hand in further. Pete gasps again.
Cash glances around the room- it's even emptier now, although there are still some stragglers, all engrossed in their own conversations and activities.
"I'm okay here for now," Cash says, and Pete's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Oh," he says, looking delighted. "Awesome."
Cash grins back.
"I must've been a really good boy this year," Pete says, and it's cheesy but Cash kind of loves it.
Pete kisses Cash, and Cash shifts closer until he's able to get his hand completely around Pete's dick. The noises Pete makes are a pretty decent Christmas present, Cash thinks, then concentrates on the job at hand.
~~~
The next morning is full of half opened sleepy eyes and hangovers and aching limbs. Alex finds Cash in kitchen, finishing a mug of coffee. Alex stands in the doorway and watches him, waits. When Cash puts the mug down and turns to him, Alex smiles, and Cash smiles back, running a hand over his hair a few times.
"Morning," Cash says. His voice sounds a little rough, a little used, and Alex wonders if his own voice sounds the same.
"Hi," Alex says, a little shyly. He's not sure why, and Cash seems to notice he's quieter than usual, because he slings an arm around Alex's shoulders and presses a fierce kiss to his forehead.
"Ready to go home?" he asks, and Alex opens his mouth to say yes, but yawns instead.
Cash laughs and they make their way to the front door, pausing only long enough to snap some pictures of Johnson curled around Ryan in an armchair, Santa hat perched jauntily on his head, hand inside Ryan's shirt.
Outside in the car, Alex climbs into the passenger seat and pulls his legs up, turning in to watch Cash slide on his sunglasses before putting the car into gear.
"Good night?" he asks.
"Amazing night," Cash tells him, reversing onto the road, and flashing Alex a smile before turning his attention back to the road.
It's only brief, but Alex can see how Cash's lips are red and puffy, like they've been well used recently. Alex bites his own lip, feels that it's a little bit puffy too, and grins. He wants to reach out and run his finger along Cash's mouth, but that'd probably result in Cash losing focus on what he's supposed to be doing, namely delivering them home safe and sound.
"Mine was pretty good too," Alex says, and Cash raises an eyebrow at him until he sighs and tells Cash all about it, all about Patrick stretched out naked beneath his hands, about the sounds he'd made.
It's a long journey, long enough that when Alex is finished, Cash can tell his own story, tells about Pete's clever, blunt fingers, his warm, wet mouth.
Alex listens gleefully, watches Cash's face as he recounts the story, and wishes he could have seen.
"It's a shame it's all over for another year," Alex remarks, when Cash is finished. Cash takes his eyes off the road long enough to look over and smile.
"It's Gabe's New Year's Eve party next week," Cash reminds him. "I hear it's much the same idea."
Alex thinks Cash will probably get to fuck the host on New Year's, judging by the way Gabe had looked at him when they'd arrived last night. He makes a mental note to ask Marshall about Bill later, or to ask around about Jon maybe.
Alex is quiet, contemplating, until they stop at a light and Cash leans across to kiss him. It's sweet and loving and familiar, so different to any kisses he received last night, or would receive at next week's party.
"The party was fun," Cash says, when he pulls away, reluctant but the lights have changed. "And the next one will be too. But a little peace and quiet for a week or so. That'll be nice, don't you think? Just us."
Alex agrees wholeheartedly. "Just us," he echoes with a smile. He reaches over and rests his hand on Cash's thigh and feels a little bit smug at how good a Christmas they're going to have, alone, just the two of them.
Title: What A Nice Way To Spend The Year
Rating: R
Pairing: Singer/Patrick, Cash/Pete, Singer/Cash
Recipient: elessar
Summary: Shenanigans ensue at Pete's annual Christmas party.
Cash reaches out and rings the doorbell. Beside him, Singer is bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation.
"This is going to be so much fun," Singer says, leaning in to Cash's side to grin at him.
Cash winks and nods. They'd heard stories, epic tales told in hushed, reverent tones, of previous years' events. Pete's annual Christmas/Hanukkah/Whatever-the-fuck-holiday celebration was legendary. So much so that it was generally just referred to as The Party, all other parties cowering in the shadow of its awesomeness.
None of the Cab had been able to go the previous year, for various reasons including touring and curfews and being a tiny bit scared of the 'big kids' (Singer's words, not Cash's). So this year's party was something they'd all been looking forward to since the invitation had beeped it's way onto their cell phones.
Cash, and Singer too, had been particularly looking forward to the party, ever since Spencer had casually mentioned how it was an anything goes type situation, a chance for everyone to let their hair down and take their pants off, if they so choose. Brendon had agreed, remarking that the motto of Pete's Christmas Party was 'love the one you're with, as often as possible, for the entire night'.
Cash glances over and meets Singer's eyes. "It's going to be great," he says, just as the door swings open.
"Mis amigos!" Gabe greets them, stepping back to allow them inside. "The party is already in full swing- the Cobra informed me that tonight is going to be a doozy. Shenanigans through the mother fucking roof!" He punctuates his words with a fist pump towards the sky.
Cash laughs and winks when Gabe slaps his ass as they step inside. Gabe throws his arms around both of their shoulders, ushering them towards the vast selection of booze and food laid out in the kitchen, then bids them farewell, making a beeline for the solitary figure of Brendon at the far end of the lounge.
Cash holds his fist out to Singer, who rolls his eyes, but bumps his own against it.
"Have fun," Cash says, wondering just how much fun Singer's going to have. And how much fun he's going to get up to himself.
There's a burst of ragtag applause and then someone- Ryan Ross, Cash sees, to his amusement- is waving around a microphone by the karaoke machine, declaring he's 'living in a powder keg and giving off sparks' and that is something Cash very much needs to see, so they both wander over to watch.
~~~
Alex watches as Ryan hands off the microphone to Patrick. He's well aware that Patrick willingly agreeing to sing karaoke means he's been drinking for awhile, but not too drunk that he's swaying on the spot, unable to read the words of 'Wuthering Heights'. Alex watches Patrick belt it out, making rude gestures at the wolf whistles that come from Pete's general direction throughout the song. Alex has always been in awe of Patrick- of his voice, of his talent, of the way he seems so insecure and so confidant at the same time. It's possible Alex has a teeny tiny crush, and accepting that is a big reason why he's come here tonight.
When Patrick relinquishes the microphone and makes his way back to the safety of the sofa, Alex follows, taking a seat beside him as soon as one is available. He lures Patrick into a discussion about the best Bowie album ("Sure, it's easy to say Ziggy is better than Man Who Sold The World, but they're two halves of a story, you can't compare them!" Patrick insists) until everyone else in the vicinity wanders off to escape the enthusiastic rant.
When Patrick pauses for breath, Alex interrupts to mention how he's been working on some songs for the new album. He watches Patrick's eyes light up with interest, and answers whatever questions about the songs he can until Patrick says, "Hang on, why don't you just show me?" and gets up to lead Alex to Pete's music room.
They pass by Cash on their way, who grabs Alex's arm and squeezes as they walk past, making Alex half turn to grin at him when he lets go. Cash, always as subtle as a brick, gives him a massive two thumbs up, but Patrick is ahead of him, talking about this great new piano Pete had just gotten, how clear and crisp each note was. Alex flips Cash off gently for good measure, and follows behind Patrick, trying not to glance at his ass too much on the way.
They close the door to the music room behind them, to drown out the noise of the party, and Patrick sits on one half of the piano stool, motioning for Alex to sit on the other end.
They mess around on the piano for over an hour, Alex singing snatches of new songs he's had mostly in his head, sometimes on paper, and Patrick nods along or makes suggestions or tells him he loves it, which makes Alex glow with pride.
Patrick's glass of vodka and coke empties twice while they play, and Alex happily gets up to refill it each time, leaving Patrick at the piano to play bars of the songs over and over. Alex tries not to grin too hard as he makes his way back to the kitchen to pour the drinks, being overly generous with the vodka.
He glances around the room briefly, spots Ryan and Johnson's heads bent low together while they share a joint, talking about something that makes Ryan wave his hand expressively in the air. He spots Cash over on the sofa, part of Pete's circle of listeners and tries to catch his eye, but Cash is too intent on Pete to turn around. Alex almost pauses to see how Cash will get Pete's attention, but the thought of Patrick's hands stretched across the piano keys, voice low and quiet while he sings, makes Alex turn away and back down the hallway towards the music room.
Patrick accepts the drink with a smile and a "I had an idea for the bridge part, here," and plays, and drinks until his fingers trip clumsily on the keys.
"Oops," Patrick laughs. It's rich and throaty and Alex licks his lips quickly. He takes the chance, leans in and kisses Patrick while he's still laughing, mouth open.
Patrick pulls back a little, until their mouths aren't touching. "Are you drunk?" he asks, sounding suspicious.
It makes Alex laugh, because he's pretty sure he's the most sober person at the party, wants to be, needs to be, so he can remember this properly.
He kisses Patrick again - Patrick Motherfucking Stump, his brain is exclaiming loudly, and it's better than that time he made out with Spencer Smith - and this time Patrick kisses him back. It's a little sloppy, a little hungry, and Patrick's hand rests warm and heavy on Alex's shoulder, fingers stroking over the fabric of his shirt and pulling him in closer.
They make out for what seems forever and not enough, and when Patrick pulls away for air, eyes glassy and lips wet, he breathes out "Wow," which is enough to tell Alex that tonight is most definitely going to be amazing.
Alex slides onto the floor, onto his knees. Patrick stares at him for a moment, confused.
"Turn around," Alex says. "There's a piano in the way."
Patrick swivels around, still frowning a little, and when Alex reaches out and puts his hands on Patrick's thighs, pushing them open, he makes a protesting noise.
"Hey, no, you don't have to-" he starts, but Alex chuckles and says "I want to!"
He slowly unzips Patrick's jeans, feeling him grow hard underneath the press of Alex's hand. Patrick hums happily, and Alex desperately wants to know if Patrick keeps humming when Alex has his dick in his mouth, or if he'll make even better noises.
He glances up at Patrick, who's watching him with lazy, alcohol laden eyes, gives him the chance to say no, but Patrick just smiles and slides his hand into Alex's curls.
Alex grins back and lowers his head.
~~~
Decaydance parties are always the best kind, Cash knows. He always enjoys himself at them, but this one he's enjoying particularly, because he has a purpose, a plan, an understanding. He has a cool bottle of beer in his hand and plenty of awesome people to talk to, and he's just seen Singer being led off by Patrick, so Singer is probably very happy right now, which is important to Cash.
Cash makes his way around the party, going from room to room, looking at the Christmas decorations, talking to people and moving on slowly. He takes his time, drawing it out, even though he already has a plan.
"You seen Patrick?" Joe asks, stopping him while he's getting another beer. Cash hands Joe one too, and shrugs, then directs him to the room that he'd last seen Ian and Greta in, busy playing a drinking game that involved the removal of clothing for no real reason Cash could determine.
Cash checks his watch, sees they've been at the party for a couple of hours now and so he makes his way over to where Pete is holding court at one end of the lounge. He's telling some loud, apparently hilarious story to Travis, Bill and Suarez.
"Cashmoney!" Pete crows when he spots him, and everyone shuffles around on the sofa to make room for him.
"You'll bow to tradition, right?" Pete demands. "All these fuckers are refusing."
Cash has no idea what Pete is talking about until he gestures at the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling, right above his head. Apparently Pete's position on the sofa has been well thought out.
Bill rolls his eyes. "Been there, done that," he says, sounding bored. "Besides, I'm too busy eyeing up new victims," he adds, casting his eyes around the room, sparsely populated now that people keep disappearing off in twos and threes and mores to various parts of the house.
"Marshall's in the kitchen," Cash says helpfully, grinning when Bill's eyes light up.
"Don't wait up," Bill says with a wink, and lopes off to the kitchen, Travis and Suarez trailing behind ("This I have to see," Travis insists with a smirk as he gets up).
There's now a huge expanse of sofa between himself and Pete, and Cash shimmies over, managing not to spill his beer in the process, which he's pretty proud of.
"Well?" Pete prompts, and points up at the mistletoe.
Cash grins, sets his beer down on the coffee table, and leans in.
Pete purses his lips, as if expecting a small peck, but Cash kisses him properly. He runs his tongue against Pete's puckered lips until they part and let him inside.
Pete is a good kisser, and Cash can't help but smile when Pete's hand moves up to rest on Cash's knee.
"Why, Mr Colligan," Pete jokes when they lean apart. "I didn't expect that. You surprised me."
"Bad surprise, or a good one?" Cash asks, warily.
He realises it's probably incredibly stupid to make out with someone who is essentially your boss, but Cash has never been one to shy away from something because it's stupid. Plus there were supposed to be no rules here at the party, so Pete can hardly complain, he hopes. Also Pete is hot, so Cash can't be held responsible for his actions.
Pete smirks. "Oh, good. Very good," he says and Cash kisses him again, slides his hand up Pete's chest and then down to slip under his shirt. He eases his fingers under the waistband of Pete's jeans.
Pete gasps against Cash's mouth.
"Shall we find somewhere a little more private?" Pete suggests, and Cash wiggles his fingers just a little, getting his hand in further. Pete gasps again.
Cash glances around the room- it's even emptier now, although there are still some stragglers, all engrossed in their own conversations and activities.
"I'm okay here for now," Cash says, and Pete's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Oh," he says, looking delighted. "Awesome."
Cash grins back.
"I must've been a really good boy this year," Pete says, and it's cheesy but Cash kind of loves it.
Pete kisses Cash, and Cash shifts closer until he's able to get his hand completely around Pete's dick. The noises Pete makes are a pretty decent Christmas present, Cash thinks, then concentrates on the job at hand.
~~~
The next morning is full of half opened sleepy eyes and hangovers and aching limbs. Alex finds Cash in kitchen, finishing a mug of coffee. Alex stands in the doorway and watches him, waits. When Cash puts the mug down and turns to him, Alex smiles, and Cash smiles back, running a hand over his hair a few times.
"Morning," Cash says. His voice sounds a little rough, a little used, and Alex wonders if his own voice sounds the same.
"Hi," Alex says, a little shyly. He's not sure why, and Cash seems to notice he's quieter than usual, because he slings an arm around Alex's shoulders and presses a fierce kiss to his forehead.
"Ready to go home?" he asks, and Alex opens his mouth to say yes, but yawns instead.
Cash laughs and they make their way to the front door, pausing only long enough to snap some pictures of Johnson curled around Ryan in an armchair, Santa hat perched jauntily on his head, hand inside Ryan's shirt.
Outside in the car, Alex climbs into the passenger seat and pulls his legs up, turning in to watch Cash slide on his sunglasses before putting the car into gear.
"Good night?" he asks.
"Amazing night," Cash tells him, reversing onto the road, and flashing Alex a smile before turning his attention back to the road.
It's only brief, but Alex can see how Cash's lips are red and puffy, like they've been well used recently. Alex bites his own lip, feels that it's a little bit puffy too, and grins. He wants to reach out and run his finger along Cash's mouth, but that'd probably result in Cash losing focus on what he's supposed to be doing, namely delivering them home safe and sound.
"Mine was pretty good too," Alex says, and Cash raises an eyebrow at him until he sighs and tells Cash all about it, all about Patrick stretched out naked beneath his hands, about the sounds he'd made.
It's a long journey, long enough that when Alex is finished, Cash can tell his own story, tells about Pete's clever, blunt fingers, his warm, wet mouth.
Alex listens gleefully, watches Cash's face as he recounts the story, and wishes he could have seen.
"It's a shame it's all over for another year," Alex remarks, when Cash is finished. Cash takes his eyes off the road long enough to look over and smile.
"It's Gabe's New Year's Eve party next week," Cash reminds him. "I hear it's much the same idea."
Alex thinks Cash will probably get to fuck the host on New Year's, judging by the way Gabe had looked at him when they'd arrived last night. He makes a mental note to ask Marshall about Bill later, or to ask around about Jon maybe.
Alex is quiet, contemplating, until they stop at a light and Cash leans across to kiss him. It's sweet and loving and familiar, so different to any kisses he received last night, or would receive at next week's party.
"The party was fun," Cash says, when he pulls away, reluctant but the lights have changed. "And the next one will be too. But a little peace and quiet for a week or so. That'll be nice, don't you think? Just us."
Alex agrees wholeheartedly. "Just us," he echoes with a smile. He reaches over and rests his hand on Cash's thigh and feels a little bit smug at how good a Christmas they're going to have, alone, just the two of them.