fic: Buy one, get four free, the cab, gsf, r
TITLE: Buy one, get four free
AUTHOR: Nikki
FANDOM: The Cab
PAIRINGS: Cab GSF, minor PATD GSF.
GENRE: Slash
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 1,504
SUMMARY: Cash is confused as to why his band members keep cockblocking him damnit.
NOTES: Beta-ed by thelemic, any remaining mistakes are mine. For kueble because she’s going to write something awesome and this is a thank you. She wanted Cash/anyone, but this works too.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anyone mentioned here, which is kind of a shame, but whatever.
Cash was getting annoyed. Annoyed and horny, to be honest, but mostly annoyed. He had tried to hook up with a girl or boy at every gig they played, but his motherfucking band mates were cockblocking him at every turn. Cash was getting sick of it.
He had asked Johnson once, but the drummer had only stared at him until Cash backed away slowly. Johnson was scary, okay?
Cash asked Marshall next. Marshall stared at him like he was a moron, which was how Marshall normally looked at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Go away!” Cash pouted and punched Marshall in the shoulder and then ran off.
He asked Ian after a sound check the next day. Ian laughed at him for a long time. “Dude, if you don’t know, I can’t say!”
“That is such a chick thing to say, man! Tell me!”
Ian rubbed Cash’s head. “As cute as you are pouting, no way.” He left the stage laughing.
Two days later, he corned Singer in the hotel bathroom. “Why are you assholes cockblocking me?”
Singer’s eyes widened and his lip started trembling. Cash left the bathroom quickly. A crying Singer made him feel bad.
As a last resort, he called up Brendon. “Brendon,” he whined into the phone. “I haven’t gotten laid in days. My stupid band mates keep cockblocking me.”
Brendon sighed. “I know how you feel, dude. Jon, Ryan, and Spencer used to do that all the time until I wised up.”
“Uh, what?”
“Cash, are you really that dumb?”
Cash heard a muffled ‘Yes’ from over the phone. He assumed it was Spencer.
“Tell Spencer I am not.” He paused. “Why aren’t I?”
Brendon sighed again. “Seriously. Just watch your band, okay? I have to go. It’s a hotel night and trying to fit four grown boys in a bunk is hard. Beds are a godsend, especially king-sized beds.” Brendon hung up the phone and Cash blinked.
“Are all four of them fucking?” he asked out loud.
No one answered, but Cash felt the silence calling him a moron.
****
Cash took Brendon’s advice and watched his band. He spent less time hitting on people and more time with his friends. He saw Singer’s smiles get bigger, if that was even physically possible. He saw Johnson become less growly. He saw Marshall become less bitchy and he even hugged Cash a few times. He saw Ian pretty much stay the same, since Ian was born awesome, but Ian did come over to his side of the stage more often to get on his knees and play to him.
Cash always had to swallow hard when Ian did that.
****
Cash sat up suddenly in the bed he was sharing with Singer. He grabbed his phone and quietly went out into the hall. He dialed Brendon and waited.
“’lo?” someone mumbled.
“Jon? Can I talk to Brendon?”
“Sure. Hang on.”
Cash heard some muffled cursing. He smiled as he imagined the four of them shuffling around, figuring Brendon liked to sleep in the middle. Cash knew he would.
“What is it?” Brendon asked. It was 4 am and he still sounded awake.
“I think I’m in love with my band,” Cash said.
“That’s bad because?”
“I just don’t know what to do.”
“Cash,” Brendon started. Cash could hear him roll his eyes. “They cockblocked you for a fucking reason. Now figure it out and let us sleep.” He hung up quickly.
“I thought he was supposed to be my Yoda,” Cash lamented to the empty hallway.
****
Cash waited a few weeks before he did anything. Everyone said he was impulsive, but this was important. They were in one room in a shitty motel, but it beat a van. There was only one bed, a king. Not that Cash asked for that when he booked the room. It was just all they had left. If his plan failed, Cash was going to sleep in the van and drown himself with booze. If he worked, well, he hoped to be fucked hard.
“We need to have a band meeting,” Cash said.
“What for?” asked Singer. He was leaning against Ian in an effort not to fall asleep. Marshall and Johnson were already on the bed, fighting over the remote.
“I have something to say,” Cash started. He paused, not sure how to say it. He looked at his band mates and saw they weren’t paying any attention to him. Marshall held the remote close to him and Johnson was trying to yank it away. Ian was looking at them and encouraging them and Singer was asleep. Cash sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m going to go down to the van.”
He grabbed his Ninja Turtles backpack and trudged down the motel stairs. “I guess Brendon was wrong. They don’t love me, they just didn’t want me to get a STD.”
He shivered as the cold air blew past him. He opened the van, climbed into the back, and curled up under the covers.
****
Cash wasn’t asleep. He couldn’t. “I am a moron. I can’t believe I believed Brendon.” Cash groped for his phone and dialed Brendon. He got his voice mail.
“You were so wrong, Bren. They don’t love me at all.” He hung up and closed his eyes.
He heard the van doors open. He didn’t open his eyes, though; his band didn’t need to know he was awake. Cash rolled over on his side and listened to his band mates.
“Why is Cash here?” asked Singer. “I thought he had something to tell us.”
“We didn’t exactly pay any attention to him,” Marshall replied.
Singer made a noise and crawled in next to Cash. Cash started as he felt Singer wrap his arms around him.
“What d’ya want?” he muttered.
He heard someone climb over the seats and lie facing him. It was Ian. “You had something to tell us and we didn’t listen.”
Cash shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” He felt Singer nuzzle his neck.
Marshall sighed and laid on the other side of Singer. “If it matters to you, it matters to us.”
Johnson wedged himself behind Ian. “Yeah, dude. You look sad. A sad Cash is not cool.”
Cash sighed this time and wiggled until he could lie on his back. He stared at the ceiling. “I just wanted to know why you were cockblocking me, but you were all so…evasive about it. I called Brendon and he said not to be stupid. So, I watched you all. I figured you loved me or something and tonight I was going to tell you I loved you all. I got the king sized bed, since I’m sure we could all fit in it. But you weren’t interested in what I had to say, so I guess I figured wrong. You were just trying to save me from STDs, right?”
The other four boys were silent, until Singer rolled on top of Cash.
“Oof! What the fuck, Singer?”
“Shut up, Cash Colligan. Of course we love you, asshole,” Singer said with a scowl. He leaned down and kissed Cash. Cash’s hands went to Singer’s hips and held him there.
Marshall bit Cash’s neck as Singer pulled away. “We don’t want you to get STDs either, but the main purpose of cockblocking was to make sure people knew who you belonged to.” Marshall kissed him next, while Singer moved off of Cash.
Next was Ian, who grabbed Cash’s hair and yanked Cash on top of him. “Don’t be so stupid, all right?” Ian asked as he kissed Cash. Cash moaned in agreement. He felt someone grab his hips and turn him around.
Johnson crawled on top of Cash and kissed him softly. “You need a leash or something. We were worried about you.”
Cash smiled as he pulled Johnson closer. “You don’t have to anymore.”
Marshall snorted, but it was quickly covered by his moans.
Cash really did love his band.
****
Brendon turned on his phone and saw six voice messages. He took the phone as he climbed back into bed and curled up next to Spencer, who was still asleep. Jon had gone for coffee and Ryan was in the shower. He pressed play.
“You were so wrong, Bren. They don’t love me at all.” Brendon could hear how miserable Cash felt. He thought frantically for a moment until he heard the next message.
“Uh, never mind. Seriously, Singer, I’m on the goddamned phone. Anyway, you were right. They do love me. A lot.”
“This is Singer. Thank you so much!”
“Hey, it’s Johnson. Thanks dude.”
“Brendon? It’s Ian. Thanks for talking to Cash.”
“Hi Brendon, this is Alex Marshall. Next time, let Spencer do the matchmaking.”
Brendon laughed and set the phone on the nightstand. He curled closer to Spencer and waited for the other two to come back to bed, because he needed some cuddling after hearing the happy news. He wiped his eyes.
He did so love a happy ending.
THE END.
AUTHOR: Nikki
FANDOM: The Cab
PAIRINGS: Cab GSF, minor PATD GSF.
GENRE: Slash
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 1,504
SUMMARY: Cash is confused as to why his band members keep cockblocking him damnit.
NOTES: Beta-ed by thelemic, any remaining mistakes are mine. For kueble because she’s going to write something awesome and this is a thank you. She wanted Cash/anyone, but this works too.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anyone mentioned here, which is kind of a shame, but whatever.
Cash was getting annoyed. Annoyed and horny, to be honest, but mostly annoyed. He had tried to hook up with a girl or boy at every gig they played, but his motherfucking band mates were cockblocking him at every turn. Cash was getting sick of it.
He had asked Johnson once, but the drummer had only stared at him until Cash backed away slowly. Johnson was scary, okay?
Cash asked Marshall next. Marshall stared at him like he was a moron, which was how Marshall normally looked at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Go away!” Cash pouted and punched Marshall in the shoulder and then ran off.
He asked Ian after a sound check the next day. Ian laughed at him for a long time. “Dude, if you don’t know, I can’t say!”
“That is such a chick thing to say, man! Tell me!”
Ian rubbed Cash’s head. “As cute as you are pouting, no way.” He left the stage laughing.
Two days later, he corned Singer in the hotel bathroom. “Why are you assholes cockblocking me?”
Singer’s eyes widened and his lip started trembling. Cash left the bathroom quickly. A crying Singer made him feel bad.
As a last resort, he called up Brendon. “Brendon,” he whined into the phone. “I haven’t gotten laid in days. My stupid band mates keep cockblocking me.”
Brendon sighed. “I know how you feel, dude. Jon, Ryan, and Spencer used to do that all the time until I wised up.”
“Uh, what?”
“Cash, are you really that dumb?”
Cash heard a muffled ‘Yes’ from over the phone. He assumed it was Spencer.
“Tell Spencer I am not.” He paused. “Why aren’t I?”
Brendon sighed again. “Seriously. Just watch your band, okay? I have to go. It’s a hotel night and trying to fit four grown boys in a bunk is hard. Beds are a godsend, especially king-sized beds.” Brendon hung up the phone and Cash blinked.
“Are all four of them fucking?” he asked out loud.
No one answered, but Cash felt the silence calling him a moron.
****
Cash took Brendon’s advice and watched his band. He spent less time hitting on people and more time with his friends. He saw Singer’s smiles get bigger, if that was even physically possible. He saw Johnson become less growly. He saw Marshall become less bitchy and he even hugged Cash a few times. He saw Ian pretty much stay the same, since Ian was born awesome, but Ian did come over to his side of the stage more often to get on his knees and play to him.
Cash always had to swallow hard when Ian did that.
****
Cash sat up suddenly in the bed he was sharing with Singer. He grabbed his phone and quietly went out into the hall. He dialed Brendon and waited.
“’lo?” someone mumbled.
“Jon? Can I talk to Brendon?”
“Sure. Hang on.”
Cash heard some muffled cursing. He smiled as he imagined the four of them shuffling around, figuring Brendon liked to sleep in the middle. Cash knew he would.
“What is it?” Brendon asked. It was 4 am and he still sounded awake.
“I think I’m in love with my band,” Cash said.
“That’s bad because?”
“I just don’t know what to do.”
“Cash,” Brendon started. Cash could hear him roll his eyes. “They cockblocked you for a fucking reason. Now figure it out and let us sleep.” He hung up quickly.
“I thought he was supposed to be my Yoda,” Cash lamented to the empty hallway.
****
Cash waited a few weeks before he did anything. Everyone said he was impulsive, but this was important. They were in one room in a shitty motel, but it beat a van. There was only one bed, a king. Not that Cash asked for that when he booked the room. It was just all they had left. If his plan failed, Cash was going to sleep in the van and drown himself with booze. If he worked, well, he hoped to be fucked hard.
“We need to have a band meeting,” Cash said.
“What for?” asked Singer. He was leaning against Ian in an effort not to fall asleep. Marshall and Johnson were already on the bed, fighting over the remote.
“I have something to say,” Cash started. He paused, not sure how to say it. He looked at his band mates and saw they weren’t paying any attention to him. Marshall held the remote close to him and Johnson was trying to yank it away. Ian was looking at them and encouraging them and Singer was asleep. Cash sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m going to go down to the van.”
He grabbed his Ninja Turtles backpack and trudged down the motel stairs. “I guess Brendon was wrong. They don’t love me, they just didn’t want me to get a STD.”
He shivered as the cold air blew past him. He opened the van, climbed into the back, and curled up under the covers.
****
Cash wasn’t asleep. He couldn’t. “I am a moron. I can’t believe I believed Brendon.” Cash groped for his phone and dialed Brendon. He got his voice mail.
“You were so wrong, Bren. They don’t love me at all.” He hung up and closed his eyes.
He heard the van doors open. He didn’t open his eyes, though; his band didn’t need to know he was awake. Cash rolled over on his side and listened to his band mates.
“Why is Cash here?” asked Singer. “I thought he had something to tell us.”
“We didn’t exactly pay any attention to him,” Marshall replied.
Singer made a noise and crawled in next to Cash. Cash started as he felt Singer wrap his arms around him.
“What d’ya want?” he muttered.
He heard someone climb over the seats and lie facing him. It was Ian. “You had something to tell us and we didn’t listen.”
Cash shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” He felt Singer nuzzle his neck.
Marshall sighed and laid on the other side of Singer. “If it matters to you, it matters to us.”
Johnson wedged himself behind Ian. “Yeah, dude. You look sad. A sad Cash is not cool.”
Cash sighed this time and wiggled until he could lie on his back. He stared at the ceiling. “I just wanted to know why you were cockblocking me, but you were all so…evasive about it. I called Brendon and he said not to be stupid. So, I watched you all. I figured you loved me or something and tonight I was going to tell you I loved you all. I got the king sized bed, since I’m sure we could all fit in it. But you weren’t interested in what I had to say, so I guess I figured wrong. You were just trying to save me from STDs, right?”
The other four boys were silent, until Singer rolled on top of Cash.
“Oof! What the fuck, Singer?”
“Shut up, Cash Colligan. Of course we love you, asshole,” Singer said with a scowl. He leaned down and kissed Cash. Cash’s hands went to Singer’s hips and held him there.
Marshall bit Cash’s neck as Singer pulled away. “We don’t want you to get STDs either, but the main purpose of cockblocking was to make sure people knew who you belonged to.” Marshall kissed him next, while Singer moved off of Cash.
Next was Ian, who grabbed Cash’s hair and yanked Cash on top of him. “Don’t be so stupid, all right?” Ian asked as he kissed Cash. Cash moaned in agreement. He felt someone grab his hips and turn him around.
Johnson crawled on top of Cash and kissed him softly. “You need a leash or something. We were worried about you.”
Cash smiled as he pulled Johnson closer. “You don’t have to anymore.”
Marshall snorted, but it was quickly covered by his moans.
Cash really did love his band.
****
Brendon turned on his phone and saw six voice messages. He took the phone as he climbed back into bed and curled up next to Spencer, who was still asleep. Jon had gone for coffee and Ryan was in the shower. He pressed play.
“You were so wrong, Bren. They don’t love me at all.” Brendon could hear how miserable Cash felt. He thought frantically for a moment until he heard the next message.
“Uh, never mind. Seriously, Singer, I’m on the goddamned phone. Anyway, you were right. They do love me. A lot.”
“This is Singer. Thank you so much!”
“Hey, it’s Johnson. Thanks dude.”
“Brendon? It’s Ian. Thanks for talking to Cash.”
“Hi Brendon, this is Alex Marshall. Next time, let Spencer do the matchmaking.”
Brendon laughed and set the phone on the nightstand. He curled closer to Spencer and waited for the other two to come back to bed, because he needed some cuddling after hearing the happy news. He wiped his eyes.
He did so love a happy ending.
THE END.