The Things We Do For Love - Cash/Singer - R
This is all Bella's fault. Gift fic for her because I love her dearly.
The Things We Do for Love (Are Made of Fail)
Cash/Singer, 3042 words, R
Warnings: Alex in panties, Cash being... Cash. Also, a Bryan Dawson.
Notes: For
herlovewasajoke who hit me up for this at two in the morning and I have the spine of a hedgehog. Thanks go to her for looking it over.
Disclaimer: If this ever really happens well... maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. Until then, not real.
Sometimes touring really sucked.
Alex loved it, he really did, but sometimes it just, well, sucked. They still had a van, it smelled, there were eight teenaged guys in it, and most of the time they just sat there. But yeah, it had its high points. For one, they had a band. And a CD. Hell, they were going to make a new one soon, a better one. Their labelmates were awesome, Pete threw great parties, and he got to hang with his best friends all the time.
But mainly the part Alex hated the most was leaving.
He left his mom in Vegas and, yeah, she was happy for him, but it wasn't the same. He missed just sitting with her, making his hair behave and just talking. He still missed Paul a bit, and now Ian, fuck. Not to mention that yeah, he had all kinds of friends now--Brendon was awesome, and Pete, and all of them, but unless they were touring together it wasn't the same.
Not to mention Logan. That was a can of worms all by itself. Awkward, considering their break-up hadn't been the most pleasant.
He knew moping wouldn't fix anything, but seeing that he was stuck in a van with not much else to do...? Yeah, he could get down with that. Things were a bit lonely with Marshall sleeping in the back and Bryan playing Grand Theft Auto or something else like that with loud guns. Maybe Halo. Johnson was driving and Cash was going on about his new place with Sonny.
Pretty normal day. Well, minus the part where Alex was kinda freaking out a little. Or a lot. Understandable, he thought. If anyone knew, especially if Cash knew, it wasn't going to end well. His little secret was burning at him, making him squirm in his seat.
Sometimes... sometimes Alex just didn't feel happy. His skin felt awkward, too tight at times, like it didn't fit his body right. Those were the nights he tried so hard to straighten his hair, shave, wear his tight jeans and prance around on stage. He'd lay on Marshall, on Cash, headbang with Ian. Anything to feel cool, to feel normal.
But eventually that stopped working. It just wasn't enough. He'd floundered a bit after that, not sure what to do. They'd been wandering around the mall in some city, maybe New York, he wasn't sure. Cash dragged him into some fancy underwear store to get a gift for his latest girl of interest. The little scraps of lace and silk felt cool on his hands, a little rough.
He wanted to try them all on. He was pretty sure that was not a normal thing to want. That didn't change anything, though.
It took about an hour for Cash to find something he liked, Alex answering in one word answers when asked what he thought. After that, he pretty much forgot about it, not wanting to think about how the lace would feel on his skin, or cool silk under his tight jeans while on stage. How they would cup everything, and what if he got hard--?
No. No, no, no, not going there.
Alex lasted a month before caving. He already knew his size thanks to his jeans, so he locked himself in the hotel room while Cash was out doing crazy things with Ian, got out his credit card and ordered one. It was pale green silk with little black details on it, and Alex was in love.
The guys must have thought he was insane that next week, shifty as all fuck until he got the nondescript little package. He begged for the single room, whined until Cash gave it up. Sure, it meant that everyone teased him about the gift being from Logan or some shit, but it was worth it. He ran inside and locked the door, rushing to get naked, to try them on, to see if it would be as good as he thought it would be. He almost ripped them the first time, not sure which way the panties went, but eventually he got them up.
God, looking in the mirror was so awesome. The silk outlined everything, the little black parts stretched out a bit because of his cock and ass. But it looked good, he looked good. He didn't need someone to tell him that. He didn't touch himself or anything, that wasn't what this was about. He was pretty.
After that it was a clusterfuck. He bought two or three at a time, picking them up every hotel night. Boy-shorts, thongs, bikini style... all kinds of colors, materials and cuts. It was his coping mechanism. Hard to feel ugly and useless dressed like that. And if it meant hiding them, wearing them under his clothes all the time, well, Alex was fine with it.
That wasn't the problem though. The issue was that he usually shared a room with Cash, and if Cash found out, Alex was going to be in trouble. He knew Cash had a thing for silky things, the way it felt when he touched it, licked through it, the sight of skin framed by lace and soft fabric. Alex was his best friend; he knew Cash wouldn't be able to resist something like that. It wouldn't be fair to Cash.
Because as much as Alex wanted Cash to want him, he wanted it to be real.
His life sucked.
~*~*~
Los Angeles was vibrant, all bright lights and people twenty-four seven. They had a show that night, a big one, the seats selling out faster than Alex could update his twitter status. It was so exciting. People wanted to see them in concert, to sing along to his words and dance around. They were fucking rock stars. Sometimes Alex forgot that.
Marshall and Cash had dragged Johnson out for a haircut, Cash cackling about mohawks and stuff. Alex just wanted to stay in, sweatpants on and notebook in front of him. The itch to write was strong, words forming in his mind before he could even write them.
The knock on the door startled him, but the familiar shuffle-knock-rap letting know it was Bryan.
"Hey, Singer - dude, can I come in?"
Alex nodded, shouting out that the door was open. He wanted to spend more time with Bryan, he was a cool guy. His accent was a little rough but sweet, especially around the mouth of a bottle or smoke from a joint.
Bryan came in and slid on the bed next to him, half curling into Alex. He was just as affectionate as him, loving random cuddles and wrestling and all kinds of things without complaining. It was pretty damn awesome.
They sat like that for a while, until Bryan pulled a baggie and pipe out of his hoodie and smirked.
"Want some?"
"Fuck yes," Alex said, leaning forward and making grabby hands. "You are so fucking awesome dude, really."
The pot was good, the smoke thick and sweet and after a few puffs Alex was sailing. Bryan wasn't far behind, giggling and leaning most of his weight into him. That didn't bother Alex though, not with how good he felt. He latched on, hands and legs wrapping around and holding Bryan close.
"You are an awesome pillow. Blanket. Thing. Please do not leave me, Bryan Dawson, I will be quite sad," Alex murmured, face buried in Bryan's neck. He smelt good, like Christmas and maybe pumpkin pie. Alex made sure to point that out.
Of course, that was when the door flew open, Cash running in and laughing. "Dude, Singer, dude, you have to see Jizzle's ha... what the hell guys?"
It was a weird angle, but Alex managed to tip his head back. Cash looked angry, even upside-down. Maybe even pissed. And if he was seeing this right, he also looked hurt.
"Was it because we didn't share the weed with you?" Alex asked, flinching a bit when the door slammed shut.
Well, that was weird.
~*~*~
Cash was really distant during the show, and it was throwing Alex off. Usually Cash would play to him, let Alex lean on him and share a mic. Personal space didn't exist with them, it was something Alex could always count on and he wanted to keep it that way. But how could he when Cash was all the way across the stage, playing to Marshall?
He wasn't jealous, he was just... concerned. Cash had been avoiding him all day, since he walked in on him and Bryan. Which didn't even make sense. It was just pot-induced cuddling. Nothing wrong with that. And sure, Cash was usually his cuddle-buddy of choice, but he wasn't there. He knew pot made Alex snuggly, like when he woke up. But without the gross hair.
Alex let out a cuss between verses, distracted enough that he had stubbed his toe on an amp. Ow. He had to focus. Screw Cash being weird.
~*~*~
After the show they were all a mess. Bryan and Marshall each stole the first showers and Johnson starting loading his kit, so Alex went to find Cash. It took some time, since Cash was not in their dressing room or the van or on stage.
No, he was outside the venue getting drunk.
Alex folded his arms, not happy to see the vodka or the cigarette in Cash's hands.
"I thought you quit."
"Hey, Singerboy, come sit with me," Cash slurred out, patting the bit of sidewalk next to him. "Sit, sit, sit, sit. You thirsty?"
Alex sighed, sitting next to Cash. He was warm, body always running hot, and it was nice on nights like these. The night had a bit of chill to it, so he leaned in, letting Cash's warmth hit his side.
"So, what was up with you today? You were so mad at me," Alex pointed out, trying not to sulk. Cash was drunk, reasoning with him was going to be hard as it was, he didn't need to bring his own insecurities into it.
"Wasn't mad," Cash forced out, that dark look back on his face. Alex really wanted to know what it meant. "Just... giving you space."
Well, that wasn't helpful.
"Space for what?"
Usually it was Alex who noticed things, but sometimes Cash had his moments. Such as then, when he looked Alex right in the eye and said, "You broke up with Logan for someone else, didn't you?"
Alex had, it had sucked, but he had. Logan was a great girl, beautiful and sweet and everything he should want in a woman. She was, but he was on tour all the time now, and while web-cam chats were nice, it wasn't fair to her.
At least that's what he told everyone. And it was true, all of it. It just wasn't the whole truth.
There was also the part where Alex was in love with Cash, warts and all. Sure, Cash was routinely a douche, and blasted music in the van at two in the morning, and was always in his space. Not to mention the pranks and stupid tweets and pulling Alex's hair. But he was a good guy, and fun, and hot, and Alex's best friend.
He could do worse.
Still, he couldn't tell Cash. If he did, well, Cash would either laugh at him, or turn him down, or leave the band... no, he could do that. He only realized he hadn't answered Cash when he got punched in the arm.
"Oh, um. Yeah."
"Okay," Cash murmured, seeming a bit out of it. "Okay."
~*~*~
Things at least seemed better after that. Cash wasn't avoiding him anymore, the guys were good, and the tour continued. They had a second show in California, up in Sacramento. Luckily they had a two whole days off before that one. That meant time to relax. Getting off the bus felt so, so good. Alex could stretch his legs.
The hotel Sonny found was nice, and without thinking Alex went to stand next to Cash. "So can I have the window--"
"I'm rooming with Marsh. Bryan said he'd room with you," Cash muttered, heading for the elevators.
Alex was so, so confused.
"What the fuck?!"
~*~*~
Okay, Alex was going to figure this shit out tonight. He did not want to spend his day off tomorrow fighting with Cash. Not cool, so not cool. It wasn't hard to talk Marshall into switching with him. He was a total softy. He totally owed him Starbucks. Really.
So when Cash came in, Alex was sitting on his bed, arms folded and glare on. Cash looked a bit worried at first, then annoyed.
"What the hell are you even doing here, Singer?"
"I thought you weren't mad at me."
The silence in the room was thick, Alex trying not to squirm. Cash seemed to cave somewhat, and that helped. He sat on the bed next to Alex, not touching him.
"Cash, seriously. What the hell?"
"You said you broke up with Logan for someone else," Cash muttered, head in his hands. "I didn't... I don't want to be in the way, so if you're um. Happy and shit, then that's what matters."
Alex knew the look on his face was so fucking confused. "Wait what? In the way of what? Seriously."
Cash looked up and rolled his eyes. He had that look of 'Alex is an Dumbass' and that wasn't good. "You and Bryan, you idiot. You think I didn't know?"
Alex just burst out laughing.
Cash started to get up and Alex tugged him back down, all but sitting on him. "Cash. Cash. I'm not... it's not Bryan. You fucktard."
"... You were cuddling the shit out of him," Cash pointed out lowly.
"I was high! I'd cuddle the Loch Ness Monster on weed that good!" Alex paused, taking in the way Cash tensed, the look in his eyes. "... Holy shit were you jealous?"
"No! I just--I thought we were buddies," he muttered. "I don't share."
"You were jealous of Bryan. You were sad that he got cuddles and you didn't."
Singsong was totally okay in this kind of situation.
Cash rolled his eyes, throwing himself forward and to the side, pinning Alex to the bed. He squeaked, seriously, how lame was that, and grabbed onto Cash's arms.
"I was pissed because I thought you were making out. I thought--it was going to be my chance, you know, when I grew the balls to do it, and then you and Bryan were all buddy-buddy and then that. So yeah, I was pissed, but shit, if that was what you wanted then yeah, I'd let it happen."
Alex was touched, and at any other time he'd be crying, but he couldn't now. That would just be lame.
"Why Cash? Tell me why," Alex asked. He needed to know, he had hoped and well, he was wearing panties because he thought it might make Cash want him. He couldn't get much more desperate than that.
Cash rolled his eyes, leaned down and stole a quick, harsh kiss. Alex gasped, honestly not expecting that.
"Because I love you, asshole."
"That is so awesome," Alex gushed. "It really is. You have no idea, Cash. No idea."
"Yeah?" Cash asked with a smirk. "Share."
"I hated you in high school because I thought you were hot. I broke up with Logan because as much as I loved her, I loved you more. I even--" Alex stopped, trying not to blush too much. It was too late though, Cash saw and latched on, as stubborn as a mule.
"Come on, tell me Singer. I wanna know. What'd you do to impress me?"
Cash had that evil grin on his face. It made Alex hot. So not fair.
"I... I just..." Alex paused to think of the words. "Sometimes I wear those lacy things so I feel like someone would want me. That you'dwant me. Stupid, I know."
Alex was pretty sure Cash was drooling.
"That is so hot. Lemme see," he begged, scrambling to get Alex's pants off.
What the fuck?
"Seriously, Cash. What the fuck?"
"I wanna know," Cash murmured, eyes dark and focused on the zipper of Alex's pants. "What color are they? Can I see? Come on, Alex, baby, let me..."
He knew it'd be like this, Cash's little kink. At least the declaration came first so he could feel less guilty. When Cash asked him to, he lifted his hips and kicked his pants off.
That day Alex had picked a royal blue pair, boyshorts and a tank top. It was silky against his skin, and cool. But when Cash touched him, just the brush of his hand, it felt so hot and so good.
"Cash, please, more," Alex told him. Cash looked almost in awe, so happy. The fact that he was looking at him like that, like Alex was the only thing he could ever want, was perfect.
"You want me to touch you, baby, is that it? I can do that. Naked? We should so be naked."
Alex agreed and arched up close enough to kiss Cash as he got his own shirt off. The silk tank top brushed both of their skins, they werethat close together, and they both moaned.
"Wanna spread you out like this, maybe suck you off. How does that sound?" Cash muttered, mouth moving down to bite at his neck. Alex was so for that plan it wasn't even funny. And then, maybe later he'd ride Cash or something, make it good. They had lots of time, after all. He let Cash move his limbs around, inch up the shirt to nip at his belly. Everything felt good: the feel of silk, the rough hotel bedding, Cash's hands on his skin. The calluses and sheer strength Cash had made him moan, especially when he thought about those fingers spreading him open, working in deep.
But that was for later. Right now Cash's head was slowly sinking between his legs, hands working at getting the panties off. Alex let his eyes fall shut, let Cash take care of him.
Everything would be fine in the morning.
The Things We Do for Love (Are Made of Fail)
Cash/Singer, 3042 words, R
Warnings: Alex in panties, Cash being... Cash. Also, a Bryan Dawson.
Notes: For
herlovewasajoke who hit me up for this at two in the morning and I have the spine of a hedgehog. Thanks go to her for looking it over.
Disclaimer: If this ever really happens well... maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. Until then, not real.
Sometimes touring really sucked.
Alex loved it, he really did, but sometimes it just, well, sucked. They still had a van, it smelled, there were eight teenaged guys in it, and most of the time they just sat there. But yeah, it had its high points. For one, they had a band. And a CD. Hell, they were going to make a new one soon, a better one. Their labelmates were awesome, Pete threw great parties, and he got to hang with his best friends all the time.
But mainly the part Alex hated the most was leaving.
He left his mom in Vegas and, yeah, she was happy for him, but it wasn't the same. He missed just sitting with her, making his hair behave and just talking. He still missed Paul a bit, and now Ian, fuck. Not to mention that yeah, he had all kinds of friends now--Brendon was awesome, and Pete, and all of them, but unless they were touring together it wasn't the same.
Not to mention Logan. That was a can of worms all by itself. Awkward, considering their break-up hadn't been the most pleasant.
He knew moping wouldn't fix anything, but seeing that he was stuck in a van with not much else to do...? Yeah, he could get down with that. Things were a bit lonely with Marshall sleeping in the back and Bryan playing Grand Theft Auto or something else like that with loud guns. Maybe Halo. Johnson was driving and Cash was going on about his new place with Sonny.
Pretty normal day. Well, minus the part where Alex was kinda freaking out a little. Or a lot. Understandable, he thought. If anyone knew, especially if Cash knew, it wasn't going to end well. His little secret was burning at him, making him squirm in his seat.
Sometimes... sometimes Alex just didn't feel happy. His skin felt awkward, too tight at times, like it didn't fit his body right. Those were the nights he tried so hard to straighten his hair, shave, wear his tight jeans and prance around on stage. He'd lay on Marshall, on Cash, headbang with Ian. Anything to feel cool, to feel normal.
But eventually that stopped working. It just wasn't enough. He'd floundered a bit after that, not sure what to do. They'd been wandering around the mall in some city, maybe New York, he wasn't sure. Cash dragged him into some fancy underwear store to get a gift for his latest girl of interest. The little scraps of lace and silk felt cool on his hands, a little rough.
He wanted to try them all on. He was pretty sure that was not a normal thing to want. That didn't change anything, though.
It took about an hour for Cash to find something he liked, Alex answering in one word answers when asked what he thought. After that, he pretty much forgot about it, not wanting to think about how the lace would feel on his skin, or cool silk under his tight jeans while on stage. How they would cup everything, and what if he got hard--?
No. No, no, no, not going there.
Alex lasted a month before caving. He already knew his size thanks to his jeans, so he locked himself in the hotel room while Cash was out doing crazy things with Ian, got out his credit card and ordered one. It was pale green silk with little black details on it, and Alex was in love.
The guys must have thought he was insane that next week, shifty as all fuck until he got the nondescript little package. He begged for the single room, whined until Cash gave it up. Sure, it meant that everyone teased him about the gift being from Logan or some shit, but it was worth it. He ran inside and locked the door, rushing to get naked, to try them on, to see if it would be as good as he thought it would be. He almost ripped them the first time, not sure which way the panties went, but eventually he got them up.
God, looking in the mirror was so awesome. The silk outlined everything, the little black parts stretched out a bit because of his cock and ass. But it looked good, he looked good. He didn't need someone to tell him that. He didn't touch himself or anything, that wasn't what this was about. He was pretty.
After that it was a clusterfuck. He bought two or three at a time, picking them up every hotel night. Boy-shorts, thongs, bikini style... all kinds of colors, materials and cuts. It was his coping mechanism. Hard to feel ugly and useless dressed like that. And if it meant hiding them, wearing them under his clothes all the time, well, Alex was fine with it.
That wasn't the problem though. The issue was that he usually shared a room with Cash, and if Cash found out, Alex was going to be in trouble. He knew Cash had a thing for silky things, the way it felt when he touched it, licked through it, the sight of skin framed by lace and soft fabric. Alex was his best friend; he knew Cash wouldn't be able to resist something like that. It wouldn't be fair to Cash.
Because as much as Alex wanted Cash to want him, he wanted it to be real.
His life sucked.
~*~*~
Los Angeles was vibrant, all bright lights and people twenty-four seven. They had a show that night, a big one, the seats selling out faster than Alex could update his twitter status. It was so exciting. People wanted to see them in concert, to sing along to his words and dance around. They were fucking rock stars. Sometimes Alex forgot that.
Marshall and Cash had dragged Johnson out for a haircut, Cash cackling about mohawks and stuff. Alex just wanted to stay in, sweatpants on and notebook in front of him. The itch to write was strong, words forming in his mind before he could even write them.
The knock on the door startled him, but the familiar shuffle-knock-rap letting know it was Bryan.
"Hey, Singer - dude, can I come in?"
Alex nodded, shouting out that the door was open. He wanted to spend more time with Bryan, he was a cool guy. His accent was a little rough but sweet, especially around the mouth of a bottle or smoke from a joint.
Bryan came in and slid on the bed next to him, half curling into Alex. He was just as affectionate as him, loving random cuddles and wrestling and all kinds of things without complaining. It was pretty damn awesome.
They sat like that for a while, until Bryan pulled a baggie and pipe out of his hoodie and smirked.
"Want some?"
"Fuck yes," Alex said, leaning forward and making grabby hands. "You are so fucking awesome dude, really."
The pot was good, the smoke thick and sweet and after a few puffs Alex was sailing. Bryan wasn't far behind, giggling and leaning most of his weight into him. That didn't bother Alex though, not with how good he felt. He latched on, hands and legs wrapping around and holding Bryan close.
"You are an awesome pillow. Blanket. Thing. Please do not leave me, Bryan Dawson, I will be quite sad," Alex murmured, face buried in Bryan's neck. He smelt good, like Christmas and maybe pumpkin pie. Alex made sure to point that out.
Of course, that was when the door flew open, Cash running in and laughing. "Dude, Singer, dude, you have to see Jizzle's ha... what the hell guys?"
It was a weird angle, but Alex managed to tip his head back. Cash looked angry, even upside-down. Maybe even pissed. And if he was seeing this right, he also looked hurt.
"Was it because we didn't share the weed with you?" Alex asked, flinching a bit when the door slammed shut.
Well, that was weird.
~*~*~
Cash was really distant during the show, and it was throwing Alex off. Usually Cash would play to him, let Alex lean on him and share a mic. Personal space didn't exist with them, it was something Alex could always count on and he wanted to keep it that way. But how could he when Cash was all the way across the stage, playing to Marshall?
He wasn't jealous, he was just... concerned. Cash had been avoiding him all day, since he walked in on him and Bryan. Which didn't even make sense. It was just pot-induced cuddling. Nothing wrong with that. And sure, Cash was usually his cuddle-buddy of choice, but he wasn't there. He knew pot made Alex snuggly, like when he woke up. But without the gross hair.
Alex let out a cuss between verses, distracted enough that he had stubbed his toe on an amp. Ow. He had to focus. Screw Cash being weird.
~*~*~
After the show they were all a mess. Bryan and Marshall each stole the first showers and Johnson starting loading his kit, so Alex went to find Cash. It took some time, since Cash was not in their dressing room or the van or on stage.
No, he was outside the venue getting drunk.
Alex folded his arms, not happy to see the vodka or the cigarette in Cash's hands.
"I thought you quit."
"Hey, Singerboy, come sit with me," Cash slurred out, patting the bit of sidewalk next to him. "Sit, sit, sit, sit. You thirsty?"
Alex sighed, sitting next to Cash. He was warm, body always running hot, and it was nice on nights like these. The night had a bit of chill to it, so he leaned in, letting Cash's warmth hit his side.
"So, what was up with you today? You were so mad at me," Alex pointed out, trying not to sulk. Cash was drunk, reasoning with him was going to be hard as it was, he didn't need to bring his own insecurities into it.
"Wasn't mad," Cash forced out, that dark look back on his face. Alex really wanted to know what it meant. "Just... giving you space."
Well, that wasn't helpful.
"Space for what?"
Usually it was Alex who noticed things, but sometimes Cash had his moments. Such as then, when he looked Alex right in the eye and said, "You broke up with Logan for someone else, didn't you?"
Alex had, it had sucked, but he had. Logan was a great girl, beautiful and sweet and everything he should want in a woman. She was, but he was on tour all the time now, and while web-cam chats were nice, it wasn't fair to her.
At least that's what he told everyone. And it was true, all of it. It just wasn't the whole truth.
There was also the part where Alex was in love with Cash, warts and all. Sure, Cash was routinely a douche, and blasted music in the van at two in the morning, and was always in his space. Not to mention the pranks and stupid tweets and pulling Alex's hair. But he was a good guy, and fun, and hot, and Alex's best friend.
He could do worse.
Still, he couldn't tell Cash. If he did, well, Cash would either laugh at him, or turn him down, or leave the band... no, he could do that. He only realized he hadn't answered Cash when he got punched in the arm.
"Oh, um. Yeah."
"Okay," Cash murmured, seeming a bit out of it. "Okay."
~*~*~
Things at least seemed better after that. Cash wasn't avoiding him anymore, the guys were good, and the tour continued. They had a second show in California, up in Sacramento. Luckily they had a two whole days off before that one. That meant time to relax. Getting off the bus felt so, so good. Alex could stretch his legs.
The hotel Sonny found was nice, and without thinking Alex went to stand next to Cash. "So can I have the window--"
"I'm rooming with Marsh. Bryan said he'd room with you," Cash muttered, heading for the elevators.
Alex was so, so confused.
"What the fuck?!"
~*~*~
Okay, Alex was going to figure this shit out tonight. He did not want to spend his day off tomorrow fighting with Cash. Not cool, so not cool. It wasn't hard to talk Marshall into switching with him. He was a total softy. He totally owed him Starbucks. Really.
So when Cash came in, Alex was sitting on his bed, arms folded and glare on. Cash looked a bit worried at first, then annoyed.
"What the hell are you even doing here, Singer?"
"I thought you weren't mad at me."
The silence in the room was thick, Alex trying not to squirm. Cash seemed to cave somewhat, and that helped. He sat on the bed next to Alex, not touching him.
"Cash, seriously. What the hell?"
"You said you broke up with Logan for someone else," Cash muttered, head in his hands. "I didn't... I don't want to be in the way, so if you're um. Happy and shit, then that's what matters."
Alex knew the look on his face was so fucking confused. "Wait what? In the way of what? Seriously."
Cash looked up and rolled his eyes. He had that look of 'Alex is an Dumbass' and that wasn't good. "You and Bryan, you idiot. You think I didn't know?"
Alex just burst out laughing.
Cash started to get up and Alex tugged him back down, all but sitting on him. "Cash. Cash. I'm not... it's not Bryan. You fucktard."
"... You were cuddling the shit out of him," Cash pointed out lowly.
"I was high! I'd cuddle the Loch Ness Monster on weed that good!" Alex paused, taking in the way Cash tensed, the look in his eyes. "... Holy shit were you jealous?"
"No! I just--I thought we were buddies," he muttered. "I don't share."
"You were jealous of Bryan. You were sad that he got cuddles and you didn't."
Singsong was totally okay in this kind of situation.
Cash rolled his eyes, throwing himself forward and to the side, pinning Alex to the bed. He squeaked, seriously, how lame was that, and grabbed onto Cash's arms.
"I was pissed because I thought you were making out. I thought--it was going to be my chance, you know, when I grew the balls to do it, and then you and Bryan were all buddy-buddy and then that. So yeah, I was pissed, but shit, if that was what you wanted then yeah, I'd let it happen."
Alex was touched, and at any other time he'd be crying, but he couldn't now. That would just be lame.
"Why Cash? Tell me why," Alex asked. He needed to know, he had hoped and well, he was wearing panties because he thought it might make Cash want him. He couldn't get much more desperate than that.
Cash rolled his eyes, leaned down and stole a quick, harsh kiss. Alex gasped, honestly not expecting that.
"Because I love you, asshole."
"That is so awesome," Alex gushed. "It really is. You have no idea, Cash. No idea."
"Yeah?" Cash asked with a smirk. "Share."
"I hated you in high school because I thought you were hot. I broke up with Logan because as much as I loved her, I loved you more. I even--" Alex stopped, trying not to blush too much. It was too late though, Cash saw and latched on, as stubborn as a mule.
"Come on, tell me Singer. I wanna know. What'd you do to impress me?"
Cash had that evil grin on his face. It made Alex hot. So not fair.
"I... I just..." Alex paused to think of the words. "Sometimes I wear those lacy things so I feel like someone would want me. That you'dwant me. Stupid, I know."
Alex was pretty sure Cash was drooling.
"That is so hot. Lemme see," he begged, scrambling to get Alex's pants off.
What the fuck?
"Seriously, Cash. What the fuck?"
"I wanna know," Cash murmured, eyes dark and focused on the zipper of Alex's pants. "What color are they? Can I see? Come on, Alex, baby, let me..."
He knew it'd be like this, Cash's little kink. At least the declaration came first so he could feel less guilty. When Cash asked him to, he lifted his hips and kicked his pants off.
That day Alex had picked a royal blue pair, boyshorts and a tank top. It was silky against his skin, and cool. But when Cash touched him, just the brush of his hand, it felt so hot and so good.
"Cash, please, more," Alex told him. Cash looked almost in awe, so happy. The fact that he was looking at him like that, like Alex was the only thing he could ever want, was perfect.
"You want me to touch you, baby, is that it? I can do that. Naked? We should so be naked."
Alex agreed and arched up close enough to kiss Cash as he got his own shirt off. The silk tank top brushed both of their skins, they werethat close together, and they both moaned.
"Wanna spread you out like this, maybe suck you off. How does that sound?" Cash muttered, mouth moving down to bite at his neck. Alex was so for that plan it wasn't even funny. And then, maybe later he'd ride Cash or something, make it good. They had lots of time, after all. He let Cash move his limbs around, inch up the shirt to nip at his belly. Everything felt good: the feel of silk, the rough hotel bedding, Cash's hands on his skin. The calluses and sheer strength Cash had made him moan, especially when he thought about those fingers spreading him open, working in deep.
But that was for later. Right now Cash's head was slowly sinking between his legs, hands working at getting the panties off. Alex let his eyes fall shut, let Cash take care of him.
Everything would be fine in the morning.