Under My Skin (PG; Cash/Singer, Brendon/Spencer)
So I've been sitting on the idea for this one for a little while. It turns out it would take two members of The Cab (heavily featured!) to leave the band for me to finish this fic. :(
Office!AU, 7000 words
Patiently encouraged and beta-read by littlerhymes. Thank you! :)
UNDER MY SKIN
"So the Way package is on your desk, I’ve got your mail and - ” Alex took a breath, held the mail in his mouth for a moment and reached out his free hands to hold Brendon’s coat as he shrugged it off. He hung the coat up smoothly on the hook by the door as they walked into Brendon’s office, then popped the letters - sorted in order of importance - into the tray on Brendon’s desk and continued, “Mr Wentz rang and left a message on your machine at four this morning, rambling on about some kind of LA wolf that’s gonna take a little while to hatch. I hope that makes some, any, sense to you because - ”
He stopped suddenly with a quick sharp inhalation, as Brendon, now seated behind his desk, lifted the steaming coffee cup Alex had left for him not five minutes ago and took his first sip of the day, eyes closed in bliss. His tongue darted out to lick a tiny bit of foam clinging to his upper lip, and Alex willed himself not to make an embarrassing sound.
He finally found his voice, and said unsteadily, “Uh, anyway, that’s all for this morning, apart from your meeting with Ms Salpeter at 10 in the Cobra room.”
“Oh, good. I’m so glad you’re on top of everything,” Brendon said dreamily, eyes still closed as he inhaled deeply over the rim of his cup.
Alex felt his own mouth go dry at the sight. “Just doing my job,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Then he added, a little reluctantly, “Also, ah, I believe today is some kind of anniversary. For you and uh, Mr Smith.”
He paused, as Brendon opened one eye and tilted his head to one side, puzzled. Alex prompted, “You told me to put it in the planner about three months ago.”
Brendon’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my god,” he said, pushing away from his desk, rising abruptly. “Oh my fucking - It’s the - I was going to - ” Brendon started pulling drawers out from his desk, then dashed across the room to his coat, checking its pockets frantically before sighing, “No, it’s too late now.”
Brendon paused, wrinkled his nose adorably, and said, “I guess you could order a bunch of flowers to be sent over to his office in my name…” His voice trailed off as he made a face over how lame a suggestion it sounded even to himself.
“Actually, it might be presumptuous of me, but I booked you a table at that restaurant you told me about a month ago,” Alex said.
Brendon stopped pacing along one side of his office, the frown sliding off his face, replaced with giddy relief.
“Oh Alex, you did, really? That’s fantastic, that’s exactly what - Spencer’s been dying to go for ages, he keeps talking about it, that’s why I brought it up last time. I totally meant to call, but you know how it is.” He shrugged, then said happily, “Anyway, it’s like you read my mind!”
He gave Alex a hug, and Alex tried not to be creepy and breathe in the scent of Brendon’s cologne too deeply.
“You are seriously the best,” Brendon said happily, his face still smushed into Alex’s neck.
This was fast becoming the best day in Alex’s year long stint as Brendon’s PA.
Then Brendon broke away and said, “I have to tell Spencer. He’s going to be so pleased.”
Alex mentally sighed, his brief perfect moment over. He said, “It’s booked under your name for 7:30pm.”
Brendon nodded, phone already clutched to his ear. “Spence, guess what?”
Alex mouthed, “Do you need anything else?”
But Brendon was already swivelling away on his chair, saying happily, “I know, I’m the best boyfriend ever!”
Alex slipped out the door and closed it gently behind him, taking his seat behind his desk outside Brendon’s office. He frowned and pushed a stray pen back into its place in the desk tidy, catching in that moment a quick glimpse of his face refracted off the shade of the desklamp. After a quick glance around the near empty office, Alex took the opportunity to use the reflection to fix a stray strand of hair falling across his face.
“Primping, DeLeon?”
Alex grimaced as he heard the teasing voice across his desk. Obviously life hated him; his crush-slash-boss was still head over heels in love with his own perfect boyfriend, and Colligan was still working in Accounts across the hall.
“What about it, Colligan? Not that you’ve ever bothered to take a look at yourself in the mirror.”
Accounts didn’t see clients, but Alex didn’t see how this was an excuse for Cash to come in late and dishevelled every day, as if he’d had some wild night before.
“Don’t be hatin’ cos I look this good without trying,” Cash replied cheerfully, clearing a corner of Alex’s desk to sit on.
Alex hated this because it shifted his beautifully organised desk right out of order. He was sure Cash knew this too, but he did it every. damn. time.
“Anyway, you don’t need to bother either. You know you’re real pretty.”
Cash smirked as Alex glared up at him. Alex was still thinking of a cutting comeback when Brendon breezed out of his office.
“Hey Cash, what up my man?”
Alex tried not to grimace as his boss and his mortal enemy bumped fists.
Cash said something about a Guitar Hero, pizza and beer weekend, which Brendon agreed to readily, and Alex tried not to fall off his chair with indignation that Cash Colligan, of all people, got to hang out with Brendon in his downtime.
Then Brendon turned and said, “Alex, be a doll and take messages for any calls that come through in the next hour, okay? I’m going to see if I can talk some sense into Pete. And if Greta comes by, tell her to wait for me in the Cobra room, I’ll be along as soon as I can.”
He walked off, hands in his pockets, and Alex tried not to stare (too much) at the way Brendon’s well-tailored trousers sat snug around his ass.
“Hate to see him go but love to watch him leave, huh?” Cash said jokingly, though his voice seemed oddly strained. “Too bad he’s already very much taken. By a really awesome guy that he shares a really happy life with.”
“It’s not like that,” Alex replied sharply, feeling an irrational stab of jealousy nevertheless. “He has, um, nice suits. And way to hammer home the point, Colligan. I’m not a homewrecker.”
Cash snorted, bringing his hand up in a futile attempt to cover his smirk. “I’m just saying, even if you wanted to, I doubt Brendon would fall for your wiles. Not like others around here - “
But Alex wasn’t listening to him anymore, because he’d noticed the redness on the back of Cash’s hand and oh dear Lord, he’d gotten another one…
Cash followed where Alex’s eyes were now fixed and said, eyebrow raised, “What do you think? Got it done over the weekend.”
“It’s hideous,” Alex said flatly. “Truly hideous. I didn’t think you could top the dollar sign, but, wow.”
Cash clutched his hand to his heart and said, “DeLeon, you wound me!” He frowned, a little hurt seeping into his voice, and said, “You couldn’t even try to sugarcoat that a little?”
“I think the apostrophe is in the wrong place too,” Alex said, a little cruelly. A pause, then he couldn’t help adding, “Also, seriously, another visible tattoo? It’s not very professional.”
“Dude, I already have a white collar job,” Cash said. “And what era are you stuck in, the 50s? Frank at head office has the maddest scorpion on his neck, and he’s in management! People don’t care as long as you do your job properly.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not really doing that when you’re bothering me, are you?” Alex snapped.
Cash lifted both hands and said, “Whoah, sorry, don’t think too highly of yourself. I come up here strictly to mess with Marshall. Hey, buddy!” He called out across the room, and Marshall’s sandy head popped up over the side of his cubicle with a smile.
“But I didn’t want you pine over my absence too much,” Cash continued sardonically, hopping off Alex’s desk so quickly he knocked two pens to the ground, which he proceeded to ignore. “See you around, DeLeon.”
“Not if I can help it,” Alex muttered as he bent over to pick up the pens.
But he felt a little bit bad for saying it afterwards, and then he felt stupid for feeling bad over being mean to Cash Colligan. It wasn’t as if there was any reason for him to come and annoy Alex all the time.
**
“Alex, you promised. You pinky-swore to come, so are you seriously trying to wiggle out of this?”
Alex curled further into the corner of the couch and tried to make himself invisible. If Ian couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t badger him further about going to this Battle of the Bands thing, right? It’d been a long day at work - Pete had finally unveiled his top secret project, the office was getting ready for a visit from the Way brothers from the east coast division, and Alex had spent the afternoon running around Vegas trying to find a tastefully appropriate present for Mr Smith’s mother since Brendon had, once again, forgotten a big occasion.
“Alex, you are not blending with the couch, I can totally still see you. Get up, c’mon, it’s just for one night. I’ll buy all your drinks. Please?”
Alex waved a hand at the TV and said, “But it’s So You Think You Can Dance! You know I love - ”
“I think you love me more,” Ian said firmly. “Please, you know how much it means to me.” He looked at Alex with pleading eyes and Alex threw his head back on the couch and sighed.
“Alright, gimme fifteen and I’ll be ready,” he grumbled. “All my drinks for tonight, right?”
“All the damage your liver can handle,” Ian promised. “You’re the best!”
“I keep hearing that,” Alex said, disgruntled. “You and your shitty band owe me.”
This early in the night, there were a few kids hugging the barrier but more people were milling around the back like Alex was, half of them trying unsuccessfully to buy drinks with the back of their hands still smudged with ink.
Alex felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see two bright faces. One of the girls bit her lip and hissed excitedly at her friend, “See, I told you!”
“Um, can you, like, sign a napkin or something for us?” the other girl asked. “I swear I saw, like, every gig you did.”
“Thanks! Sure I can,” Alex said, preening a little. He leaned over the square of paper they handed him, and signed his name with a flourish.
“So what are you up to now? Like, are you still doing music and stuff?”
Alex’s face went blank, and he remembered now why he avoided the scene more often than not. He’d sold out, hadn’t he, gave up making music to work for the man; that’s what most of his friends from that time had said, their voices ugly.
“Oh, here and there, making a living,” he said politely. He excused himself and left, heading straight for the bar for an Ian-sponsored drink. But standing in the smoky club, watching another local band thrown before the wolves, Alex felt a wave of fond nostalgia. Time had made the memories hazier but somehow better; the girls clustered around the front of the stage had been hotter back in his day, the crowds bigger and more welcoming, surely.
But the band that was on now, well. They weren’t the worst band Alex had ever heard, but they were heading into the top five. The lead singer needed work, so much work; the drummer was a bar ahead of his entire band; and the guitarist was catatonically shuffling to his own three chord mess in the corner. Alex slid his eyes over to the fourth and final member, the bassist in a white v-neck top, and huh, he wasn’t too bad. Alex watched him for a while, trying to drown out the rest of the band. Maybe it was his own nostalgia for making music, but the guy definitely managed to make sweaty and dishevelled work for him as he played.
Then the bassist, head still down, slid his hand up the neck of his bass and grinned across the stage at his lead singer, and Alex narrowed his eyes. It was dark in the club, but he could just make out the curlicues spidering across the back of the bass player’s hand, and shit. He had just been checking out Cash Colligan.
Alex turned back to the bar and ordered another drink immediately.
A little later, watching Ian’s band onstage, Alex felt someone scoot up close behind him. “So I was near the bathrooms when I heard that, like, the great Alex DeLeon was here tonight,” Cash teased. “Do you, like, think he’d give me his autograph? And by autograph I mean - ”
“Yeah, thanks, I know what you mean,” Alex said. He was feeling a lot more mellow now, after Ian bought him a few more drinks, and passed him the joint a few times. He was even okay with the fact that Cash seemed to have no concept of personal space, and was talking directly into his ear while plastered against Alex’s back. Well, mostly okay.
“You’re all clammy and gross,” he said to Cash. “Stop getting your sweat all over me.”
Cash grinned at him fondly and said, “As you wish, princess.” He backed up the tiniest step, and bounced on his toes. “So, my band,” he said, “Did we blow your mind?”
“With how bad you were, yeah,” Alex said.
“Wow, you really don’t hold back, do you?” Cash said, rolling his eyes. “How’s a guy’s ego meant to withstand your constant assaults? How does your boyfriend cope with all that hostility?”
“My boyfriend?” Alex said, wrinkling his brow. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Cash nodded in the direction of the stage, and said, “I know you’re a little drunk right now, but surely your memory can’t be that bad. You know, the guy you came with. The hot one with the guitar, and all that hair.”
“Oh, Ian. Hah. I’m going to tell him you said he was hot. No, he’s just my roommate, man.”
“Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” Cash said, but he pressed a little closer again, and there was a small smile on his lips.
On stage, Ian looked like he was gearing up for a serious solo. From the back of the room came a loud WOOOOOOO! as a flock of drunk, shirtless dudebros came out of nowhere and plowed through the crowd. One of them, cup held aloft, knocked solidly into Alex’s left shoulder on his path to the front, showering him with cheap beer and throwing him aside. Alex stumbled and almost fell, but then Cash’s hands were at his sides, steadying him.
“Are you okay?” Cash whispered, his breath warm and moist on Alex’s neck.
“I’m fine,” Alex whispered back. Even as he said it though, he knew it was a lie. Suddenly, the room felt too hot, and Cash too close; suddenly, he was aware of his heart racing, loud in his ears. He blushed, and was grateful for the dim dark of the room.
For the rest of the set they stayed that way: Alex swaying imperceptibly to the music and mouthing along to every word, Cash steady and sure against his back, anchoring him. As the lights went up, Cash leaned forward and asked, voice low and kind, “You really miss the music, don’t you?” His hands were around Alex still, and Alex realised with a start that it felt too comfortable, almost familiar, the way Cash’s palms fitted around the curve of his hips.
“Do you still write? You shouldn’t have stopped performing,” Cash continued, and Alex felt trapped all of a sudden.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Alex snapped, and took a step forward so Cash would drop his hands and let him go. Then he looked everywhere but at Cash, as an awkward terrible silence fell between them.
He was saved by Ian, who was incredibly amped, and dove upon him while talking a mile a minute. “How amazing were we? Scale of ten to ten, give it to me straight,” he demanded.
Alex let himself be towed away by Ian’s enthusiasm, and his insistence there were some really hot girls who wanted to talk to them, out the front somewhere, really; he pretended not to notice that they were moving further and further away from Cash, who stood looking at Alex like he was still waiting for an answer.
“Hey, nice to hear you playing last night. You’re writing again?” Ian said the next day, as Alex stumbled into the kitchen after midday.
“Coffee,” Alex croaked, eyes still shut, and Ian laughed (loudly) before handing him a mug.
Once he felt more human, and light and sound didn’t hurt so much, Alex sat back and said, “Wait, what did you mean before?”
Ian pointed to the couch and said, “Your acoustic is out, and one of your writing notebooks too. I heard you strumming away before I fell asleep. It was a pretty tune, man.”
“Thanks,” Alex said. He had no recollection of it whatsoever. He wandered over and picked up the notebook, then winced at the drunken scribbles. Ian peered over his shoulder and hummed as he scanned the page.
“There, that bit,” he said, pointing to the scrawl along the bottom right.
Alex said, “I can’t even read that and I wrote it. Sing it for me again.”
Ian obliged, and Alex noted it down as best he could on a fresh page.
“And that bit there - ” Ian pointed to another part of the page. “That’s good. I could - wait - ”
He came back with his guitar, and said, “If you play that line I have this idea.”
Alex sat on the couch and tried the chords he’d noted down, while Ian started riffing on top of it.
They looked up a while later, when Alex’s stomach started grumbling.
“Whoah, when did it get dark?” Ian said. “And damn, I’m really hungry.”
“It’s been six hours!”
“Time flies when you’re having fun?” Ian said. “We haven’t done that in ages, man, that was awesome.” He paused, then said hesitantly, “You could always come to rehearsal with me, you know we wouldn’t mind the input.”
Alex stared down at the sheets of paper in front of him, the songs or parts of songs they’d knocked out that afternoon.
“I do miss this,” he admitted, “But I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”
Ian smiled, and left it at that.
But Alex started carrying his writing notebook in his bag again, and every weekend he spent a few hours holed up in the corner of his local coffee shop to try and fit his scraps of lyrics to the music he and Ian had come up with.
“Hey, what a coincidence.”
Alex started, looking up from his notebook to see who’d disturbed him in his quiet corner. He rolled his eyes when he saw that it was Cash.
“Yeah, it’s weird because I’ve never seen you here before,” Alex said. He left one of his earbuds in, but Cash didn’t take the hint and pulled up a chair.
“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning across the table. Alex frowned. Cash was acting like they were friends or something. Which they totally were not, not even after he had let Cash hold him or whatever had happened in the dark while he was obviously too drunk to think clearly.
“Spending some time by myself,” Alex says pointedly. He put the earbud back in and turned up the volume on his iPod.
Cash said something which was lost under the buzz of the music. Alex continued ignoring him, until Cash reached over, turned the notebook on the table the other way round, and started reading.
Alex switched off the music then and said, “What the hell? Did I say you - ”
“I asked,” Cash said, still reading. “Should’ve turned down the volume and listened.”
Alex tried to grab the notebook back, but Cash held tight. He said, “Seriously though, these aren’t bad. You got any music to go with it?”
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” Alex retorted. “Give me my book back.”
“I’m not finished,” Cash said, smirking. “Hey, you mind if I make a few suggestions? Cool.”
“Wait, what? No way - this is not a collaborative effort, Colligan. What are you adding - ”
“Can’t hear you, busy being creative,” Cash said. “La la lah. Are you kidding me, those two don’t rhyme.” He took a pencil stub out of his pocket and scratched out a word.
Alex made a few more futile attempts to wrestle his book and his words back. After a while, he gave up and sat behind Cash, reading the changes over his shoulder. Some of them were even good suggestions, not that he was ever going to admit that.
“Alright, there, done,” Cash said finally, handing Alex his notebook.
“I don’t know why I’m even listening to you on this, you’re in one of the worst bands I’ve ever had to listen to,” Alex grumbled, clutching his notebook to his chest.
“Okay, I know we suck,” Cash admitted. “We need someone good, someone who can really sing. And play. And keep time too.” He looked up from under his eyelashes and said to Alex, “Maybe you could form a band with me? With your talents and my good looks we’d be unstoppable.”
Alex tried not to notice how dark his lashes were against his cheek, nor the way his eyes were smiling.
“Hah,” Alex just said, “Only in your wildest dreams, Colligan.”
“Well, a boy needs dreams to keep him going,” Cash said wistfully.
He stood up and stretched, polo shirt riding up over his jeans, exposing a sliver of skin and the waistband of his underwear. Alex sneaked a look, then flushed and looked up, hoping Cash hadn’t noticed.
“So same bat time, same bat channel, yeah?” Cash said, “Bring something else we can work on. We can’t be a band with just one song.”
“We are not a band!” Alex hissed.
Cash just grinned and waved goodbye.
**
Three days out from Christmas, Alex decided he really hated Brendon (except for how he didn’t, not really).
“I hate you,” Alex grumbled at Brendon as he helped Brendon with his coat in the morning. “Forced leave sucks.”
“Don’t be such a Grinch,” Brendon said, laughing. “It’s a break over the Christmas-New Year period! I hear R&D are so grateful they’re bringing me baked goods for morning tea today.”
“Don’t eat anything Mr Ross offers you,” Alex warned immediately.
“But Ryan makes the best - ”
“Not during work hours,” Alex said, sighing. “Remember Easter last year?”
“Nope.”
“Exactly. So do as I say, don’t touch whatever he makes you.”
That night, as they officially closed for business for the holiday break, Brendon stopped by Alex’s desk on his way out and asked curiously, “Why are you mad that I’m giving you all more holidays? I thought everyone could do with some more time with their loved ones.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Alex muttered. Everyone knew how much Spencer’s family loved Brendon, and vice versa. “My dad’s spending Christmas with his wife’s side of the family this year, and my mom and stepdad are travelling. I didn’t want to intrude,” Alex added, before Brendon could ask any more awkward questions.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d be all alone,” Brendon said, and he looked so stricken at his good deed going awry that Alex hurriedly lied, “No, it’s okay, my roommate’s still in town. We can live it up for the holidays bro-style.”
Ian was actually going home for the holidays, leaving on a plane in less than three hours, but Alex didn’t want Brendon’s pity.
“Oh, that’s good,” Brendon said, the smile returning to his face. “Well, have a nice time then.”
He turned to go, and as Alex opened his mouth to say thanks, he noticed that someone had stuck a sprig of mistletoe over the main entrance of the office.
“Hey wait for me, I’ll walk you out,” Alex called, picking up the pace. Brendon slowed by the doors, but then he caught side of Spencer on the other side of the glass and his face lit up.
“Hey baby. My parents invited us over for dinner tonight, I was going to let you know earlier but I got held up at the office,” Spencer said as Brendon opened the door for him. “You okay to go straight from here?”
“Absolutely,” Brendon said. “Ooh, someone’s put some mistletoe up.” He grinned at Spencer and waggled his eyebrows.
Spencer laughed, and said, “Someone, hey?” But he was already leaning in, his arms going around Brendon easily. They kissed in the doorway, Brendon reaching up on his toes, a perfect silhouette for a long moment.
Alex stood frozen a few steps away and cursed his timing, Spencer, and just for good measure, the whole fucking world for conspiring against him.
Spencer dipped Brendon gently as they broke apart from the kiss, and Brendon giggled.
“You guys make me sick,” Alex said, then clapped his hands over his mouth; he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But Brendon and Spencer just laughed and Brendon said ruefully, “I know, we’re that couple, aren’t we?”
They left holding hands, Brendon chatting animatedly while Spencer gazed at him fondly. Alex sighed, and bent down to lock up the office.
“Oh hey, mistletoe!” he heard behind him, a much too familiar voice these days.
True to his word, Cash had shown up the week after at the coffee shop, clutching a sheaf of receipts and napkins with his own lyrics. Between work and the music brains trust, some weeks Alex felt he saw more of Cash than anyone else in his life..
“So tradition says we should kiss now,” Cash said as Alex turned around to face him, “And I’m a real traditionalist.”
“What are the chances of me getting past you without giving you a kiss?”
“Slim to none,” Cash replied, “C’mon, you didn’t even save me one of Ross’ brownies from morning tea, it’s the least you can do.”
Alex rolled his eyes, leaned over and pecked Cash’s cheek lightly, chastely. “There,” he said, “Happy holidays to you too.”
He made a move to leave, but Cash caught him by the arm and said, “Alex. Hey - ” He stopped, flicked his gaze down to the floor and back up again. Alex found himself moving closer to Cash despite himself. He opened his mouth to say he wasn’t in the mood - not after the display Brendon and Spencer had made - but Cash leaned in that same moment and said, breathlessly, “Just one kiss,” as their mouths met.
Cash smelt like musk, and a little of cigarette smoke. He tasted like candy canes, sweet and fresh. He kept one hand in the small of Alex’s back, and wove the other into the Alex’s hair, and held him there for one kiss, then two. Alex inhaled deeply and remembered how Cash’s hands felt on his hips all those weeks ago. He kissed Cash back hungrily, and gave up counting. He knew it was stupid, but it felt like the first thing that had gone right today.
When they broke for breath, Alex thought about pulling away but Cash held him tight and said, “Nuh-uh, don’t get skittish and run away again, DeLeon.” He paused then said, shyly, “So what are you doing tonight?”
“Well I was going to go home, eat some takeout, watch terrible Christmas TV shows, and cry myself to sleep about being alone over the holiday break.”
“Or you could go out on a date with me,” Cash said. “I think that sounds like a much better night for all involved.”
“Hmm,” Alex said, pretending to think about it.
Cash’s hands tightened on Alex’s waist. He said in a low voice, “Oh, so you need some convincing?” He pressed his lips against Alex’s throat, pulse against his tongue, and mouthed the skin softly. His hands slipped under the band of Alex’s trousers, stroking his lower back.
Alex felt his breath hitch. He said shakily, “Are you taking me on a proper date, or are you just going to tease me all night?”
Cash grinned and said, “I’ll pay for a proper dinner and everything, even.” He finally let go of Alex and held out his hand, nodding towards the lift. “C’mon!”
Alex could barely remember what they talked about over dinner. Sitting side by side in the cab home, Cash kissed him softly but insistently as they finished dessert, a taste of chocolate bitter and rich still on his tongue. And even though he’d only had one drink, Alex fumbled with the keys when they got to his door.
Cash leaned over his shoulder, arm around his waist, and started unbuttoning Alex’s shirt. Alex could feel that Cash was hard against him, and he bit his lip and willed the lock to work itself out because he could hardly think anymore. After another minute, Cash laughed and turned Alex to face him.
“Didn’t realise what an effect I had on you,” he murmured. He pressed their hips together and ground against Alex.
Alex said, half-joking, half-despairingly, “I’m never going to get that door open now.”
“We could give your neighbours a show,” Cash said, and he pushed Alex up against the door to kiss him again.
At that moment, the door opened and Alex and Cash stumbled through, barrelling into Ian.
“My eyes,” Ian shrieked.
“What are you still doing here?” Alex said, flustered, trying to stay upright and slip his hand out of Cash’s pants at the same time.
“My plane was cancelled, so I’m on a later flight,” Ian explained. “Luckily, I’m leaving now. You’re free to do whatever you like for the break.” Then he frowned and added, “But don’t defile the shared areas.”
Alex kept his face hidden on Cash’s shoulder as Ian dragged his luggage down the hallway.
“Let’s go have sex in the kitchen,” Cash said thoughtfully.
Ian yelled from around the corner, “I heard that! Don’t you dare, Colligan, or I’ll -”
Cash shut the door firmly and grinned at Alex.
“C’mere,” he said, pulling Alex to him. “I think we really should, now.”
“What, have sex in the kitchen,” Alex said doubtfully. “That’s not very hygienic.”
“Well, I meant the first part,” Cash said. He finished undoing the buttons on Alex’s shirt and stroked his hands down Alex’s sides. Alex shivered, and helped Cash pull off his shirt. Cash then put his hands on Alex’s belt and started pulling at the buckle, nudging Alex backwards along the corridor to his room. When the back of Alex’s knees hit the edge of his bed, Cash stopped to kiss him deeply. Alex curled his fingers into the bottom of Cash’s shirt and started tugging it up.
“That tickles,” Cash said, giggling, as Alex continued nudging his shirt up, his knuckles brushing across the skin of his stomach. He distracted Alex by kissing him again, but finally Alex got his Cash’s shirt up and over his head. He dropped a line of kisses along Cash’s shoulder, one hand sliding up his chest, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed -
“What is that?” Alex asked, “Do you really have - ”
Cash pushed him back onto the bed, sighed and said, “You do not need to focus on that right now.”
Alex said, as he sat up, “No, seriously, does that really say - nrggggh.”
He slumped back on the bed and threw an arm over his eyes as Cash slid down his body, and made sure he couldn’t think straight about whether or not he should be sleeping with someone who had a word ending with ‘-izzle’ tattooed over their heart.
Alex woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee. He yawned and stretched, and for a brief moment it seemed like any other day before work.
Then Cash walked into his room, in just a pair of plaid boxers, holding a mug in each hand.
“Your coffee maker is sweet,” he said, handing Alex a steaming mug.
Alex bent over his coffee and said weakly, “Yeah, we take caffeine pretty seriously around here.”
He drank deeply, and tried to sort things out in his mind. On one hand, Cash was kinda hot, they’d had amazing sex, and now he was bringing him coffee in bed. On the other hand, Cash was messy, annoying, and had some seriously bad tattoos. Alex sneaked a look over the rim of his cup, then shuddered. Yep, just as bad in broad daylight.
“Hey,” Cash said, breaking into his reverie. “Don’t drown in that coffee.” He lifted Alex’s head with a finger under the chin, and looked straight at him.
“I like you, Alex DeLeon,” he said seriously. “You’ve got some OCD issues, and a crush on your stupidly hot boss, but that didn’t stop me from wanting you. And I really like you, even though you’ve insulted everything about me, from my band to my tattoos. So stop stressing the other stuff, think about how you felt last night, and admit you like me too.”
“I’m just neat,” Alex protested, “And your band - your tattoos - ” When Cash gave him an incredulous look, he bit his lip and said softly, “But yeah, despite everything, I like you too.”
Cash smiled, and kissed him, fingers trailing along the side of his chest, as though he was playing Alex like an instrument.
“You taste really good,” Cash said, “And do you know what? We have the whole week with no work to go to, and your apartment all to ourselves.” He grinned, and pulled Alex up from the bed.
“We’re not having sex in the kitchen,” Alex warned, stumbling after Cash down the corridor.
“How about in Ian’s room?”
**
“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Brendon said, first day back at the office. He edged aside Alex’s desk organiser and perched on the edge of Alex’s desk. “What did you get up to over the break?”
Alex tried not to frown at Brendon for messing up his desk. He surreptitiously lined things back up, then sat back and said nonchalantly, “Nothing much. It turned out Cash, um, from Accounts? His family were away too, so we hung out a lot.”
Where ‘hung out’ meant having lots of sex, playing video games, and jamming on Alex’s guitar. They’d left the apartment only to get food and more coffee, and once for Cash to go home and bring a change of clothes.
Brendon nodded, and said distractedly, “Good, good.” He looked down expectantly at Alex, and Alex said, “Uh, so how was your break?”
“It was fantastic,” Brendon gushed, “Spencer surprised me with a trip to Hawaii for New Year’s, wasn’t that awesome of him? We went to the beach every day and went surfing and snorkelling and saw dolphins!”
“I thought you were looking - ” really good, Alex’s brain supplied reflexively, but then Alex thought about it some more and he said instead, “You’re looking very tanned.”
“Yeah, the both of us, we got burnt the first day but then you learn.” Brendon stretched, his shirt riding high and showing a sliver of skin above his underwear.
Alex pointedly looked away, and found Cash leaning on the wall of Marshall’s cubicle, looking wistfully back at him. Alex was startled when Brendon swore, turning back to his boss.
Alex said, “Are you okay?”
“I bumped your lamp,” Brendon said, wincing. “New tattoo’s still sore.”
“Oh, you got one on holiday?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, I got at this place along the boardwalk,” Brendon said excitedly, rolling up the sleeve of his arm to show Alex. “It was a spur of the moment idea, but I love it. See?”
"Wow, that looks...meaningful,” Alex said slowly, trying to keep the horror out of his voice as politely as he could.
Brendon smiled brightly and said, "Oh, it is! That's so perceptive of you, Alex."
“Does Mr Smith like it?” Alex pressed, feeling mischievous.
Brendon’s smile dimmed a little, and he said, “Um, well, he said he’d get used to it. Someday.” Brendon rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, agitated.
Alex said kindly, “Well, that’s true love. Learning to like those things we don’t…” He trailed off, as he caught sight of Cash still hovering by Marshall’s desk.
Brendon sat up straighter, the smile returning to his face, and said, “That’s a nice way of looking at it.” His expression went a little dreamy, and he added, “Maybe I could get a tattoo for Spencer too.”
Alex said drily, “I’m sure he’d love that,” and only felt a tiny bit evil for perpetuating some more tattoo fail for Spencer to deal with.
Brendon hummed and kicked his feet against Alex’s desk, lost in thought. Finally, Alex cleared his throat, and as Brendon turned to look at him, said firmly, “Brendon, can you get off my desk please? It’s…” Once upon a time, he would’ve said ‘distracting’, but now he was leaning towards ‘annoying’.
“Oh!” Brendon said, hopping off so quickly he knocked two pens to the floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to be, I just - I see Cash doing it all the time and you never seem to mind - ” he said, flustered.
Alex blushed, and lied, “Uh, does he? I hadn’t, um, noticed.”
Lucky for Alex, the phone rang and he dove to answer it. “Good morning, how may I - uh-huh - sure, I’ll just put you on hold for a moment, thanks.”
“It’s Mr Wentz’s newest protégé, for you,” Alex said to Brendon, shooing him back into his office. “Pick it up on line one.”
When he turned around, Cash was holding out the two pens Brendon had knocked over. “The blue one goes into the holder on the right, and the black into the left, right?” Cash asked.
Alex nodded.
“You and your OCD,” Cash said fondly, as he put the pens back into their right place. Then he sat down on the corner of Alex’s desk, in the space Brendon had just vacated, and Alex said nothing.
Cash crossed his arms, and asked, too casually, “So what was Urie talking to you about?”
“What he did over the break with Spencer. All about the beach and surf, I mean,” Alex said hurriedly, when Cash raised an eyebrow. “And then he showed me the new tattoo he got on his arm.” He couldn’t help but make a face.
Cash laughed. He said, “Don’t tell me, you think it’s hideous.”
Alex shushed him, looking back to make sure Brendon’s office door was shut.
“It’s…not my thing,” Alex said diplomatically.
Cash leaned in and said, “So it’s worse than mine, you’re saying?”
Alex groaned and said, “As if anything could be worse than what you’ve got.” But there was no venom in his tone, and Cash just chuckled, low and deep and pleased, moving closer so his lips brushed against Alex’s ear.
“Actually, I think you’d look really hot with a tattoo, right here,” Cash said, brushing his fingers down Alex’s side.
Alex pulled away, cheeks flushed, and willed himself not to get hard at his desk, in front of everyone. He said primly to Cash, “Uh, we’re at work.”
Cash smirked, and said, “Right, and your point is? Oh, I know, sex in the office!”
Alex put his head in his hands and said, “I can’t believe you just said that. Out loud, even.”
“But it’s what you were thinking,” Cash said. “And if you weren’t, hopefully you are thinking about it now.” He winked, and strolled away whistling.
Alex tried to focus on the routine of work. He answered a flood of emails, organised Brendon’s upcoming trip to LA for a meeting at head office, sent reminders to Brendon’s email, phone and calendar to make sure he remembered it, and went over to Marketing to get Greta to sign off on the latest campaign (and to gossip with Cassadee about what happened over the break).
Midway through the afternoon, Brendon dropped a five inch thick proposal on his desk and said apologetically, “Could you run ten copies of the booklet for me, Alex? The department heads are having a meeting tomorrow and I think everyone’s meant to have one of these.”
Alex sighed and said to Brendon, “It’s gonna take me an hour to do all those.”
Alex stood by the machine in the darkened room, lulled almost to sleep by the steady whirr and the blue glow, when he was surprised by Cash pressing up against him.
"Hey, fancy meeting you here,” Cash said into his ear, trailing his fingers over Alex's side, along the ridges of his ribs. He did that a lot, Alex realised, and he thought again about Cash’s idea about getting a tattoo there. He sucked in a breath as Cash slid his hands lower, and pushed back against Cash, suddenly hard.
Cash laughed and said softly, “You know you can set these to print and collate, you don’t have to watch over the process, right?”
“I know,” Alex whispered back, “But Brendon doesn’t. And the supply room next door locks.” He twisted his head to look up at Cash, and they grinned at each other.
END
(mini)comment-fic: How Cash bullies convinces Alex to form a band with him
Office!AU, 7000 words
Patiently encouraged and beta-read by littlerhymes. Thank you! :)
UNDER MY SKIN
"So the Way package is on your desk, I’ve got your mail and - ” Alex took a breath, held the mail in his mouth for a moment and reached out his free hands to hold Brendon’s coat as he shrugged it off. He hung the coat up smoothly on the hook by the door as they walked into Brendon’s office, then popped the letters - sorted in order of importance - into the tray on Brendon’s desk and continued, “Mr Wentz rang and left a message on your machine at four this morning, rambling on about some kind of LA wolf that’s gonna take a little while to hatch. I hope that makes some, any, sense to you because - ”
He stopped suddenly with a quick sharp inhalation, as Brendon, now seated behind his desk, lifted the steaming coffee cup Alex had left for him not five minutes ago and took his first sip of the day, eyes closed in bliss. His tongue darted out to lick a tiny bit of foam clinging to his upper lip, and Alex willed himself not to make an embarrassing sound.
He finally found his voice, and said unsteadily, “Uh, anyway, that’s all for this morning, apart from your meeting with Ms Salpeter at 10 in the Cobra room.”
“Oh, good. I’m so glad you’re on top of everything,” Brendon said dreamily, eyes still closed as he inhaled deeply over the rim of his cup.
Alex felt his own mouth go dry at the sight. “Just doing my job,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Then he added, a little reluctantly, “Also, ah, I believe today is some kind of anniversary. For you and uh, Mr Smith.”
He paused, as Brendon opened one eye and tilted his head to one side, puzzled. Alex prompted, “You told me to put it in the planner about three months ago.”
Brendon’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my god,” he said, pushing away from his desk, rising abruptly. “Oh my fucking - It’s the - I was going to - ” Brendon started pulling drawers out from his desk, then dashed across the room to his coat, checking its pockets frantically before sighing, “No, it’s too late now.”
Brendon paused, wrinkled his nose adorably, and said, “I guess you could order a bunch of flowers to be sent over to his office in my name…” His voice trailed off as he made a face over how lame a suggestion it sounded even to himself.
“Actually, it might be presumptuous of me, but I booked you a table at that restaurant you told me about a month ago,” Alex said.
Brendon stopped pacing along one side of his office, the frown sliding off his face, replaced with giddy relief.
“Oh Alex, you did, really? That’s fantastic, that’s exactly what - Spencer’s been dying to go for ages, he keeps talking about it, that’s why I brought it up last time. I totally meant to call, but you know how it is.” He shrugged, then said happily, “Anyway, it’s like you read my mind!”
He gave Alex a hug, and Alex tried not to be creepy and breathe in the scent of Brendon’s cologne too deeply.
“You are seriously the best,” Brendon said happily, his face still smushed into Alex’s neck.
This was fast becoming the best day in Alex’s year long stint as Brendon’s PA.
Then Brendon broke away and said, “I have to tell Spencer. He’s going to be so pleased.”
Alex mentally sighed, his brief perfect moment over. He said, “It’s booked under your name for 7:30pm.”
Brendon nodded, phone already clutched to his ear. “Spence, guess what?”
Alex mouthed, “Do you need anything else?”
But Brendon was already swivelling away on his chair, saying happily, “I know, I’m the best boyfriend ever!”
Alex slipped out the door and closed it gently behind him, taking his seat behind his desk outside Brendon’s office. He frowned and pushed a stray pen back into its place in the desk tidy, catching in that moment a quick glimpse of his face refracted off the shade of the desklamp. After a quick glance around the near empty office, Alex took the opportunity to use the reflection to fix a stray strand of hair falling across his face.
“Primping, DeLeon?”
Alex grimaced as he heard the teasing voice across his desk. Obviously life hated him; his crush-slash-boss was still head over heels in love with his own perfect boyfriend, and Colligan was still working in Accounts across the hall.
“What about it, Colligan? Not that you’ve ever bothered to take a look at yourself in the mirror.”
Accounts didn’t see clients, but Alex didn’t see how this was an excuse for Cash to come in late and dishevelled every day, as if he’d had some wild night before.
“Don’t be hatin’ cos I look this good without trying,” Cash replied cheerfully, clearing a corner of Alex’s desk to sit on.
Alex hated this because it shifted his beautifully organised desk right out of order. He was sure Cash knew this too, but he did it every. damn. time.
“Anyway, you don’t need to bother either. You know you’re real pretty.”
Cash smirked as Alex glared up at him. Alex was still thinking of a cutting comeback when Brendon breezed out of his office.
“Hey Cash, what up my man?”
Alex tried not to grimace as his boss and his mortal enemy bumped fists.
Cash said something about a Guitar Hero, pizza and beer weekend, which Brendon agreed to readily, and Alex tried not to fall off his chair with indignation that Cash Colligan, of all people, got to hang out with Brendon in his downtime.
Then Brendon turned and said, “Alex, be a doll and take messages for any calls that come through in the next hour, okay? I’m going to see if I can talk some sense into Pete. And if Greta comes by, tell her to wait for me in the Cobra room, I’ll be along as soon as I can.”
He walked off, hands in his pockets, and Alex tried not to stare (too much) at the way Brendon’s well-tailored trousers sat snug around his ass.
“Hate to see him go but love to watch him leave, huh?” Cash said jokingly, though his voice seemed oddly strained. “Too bad he’s already very much taken. By a really awesome guy that he shares a really happy life with.”
“It’s not like that,” Alex replied sharply, feeling an irrational stab of jealousy nevertheless. “He has, um, nice suits. And way to hammer home the point, Colligan. I’m not a homewrecker.”
Cash snorted, bringing his hand up in a futile attempt to cover his smirk. “I’m just saying, even if you wanted to, I doubt Brendon would fall for your wiles. Not like others around here - “
But Alex wasn’t listening to him anymore, because he’d noticed the redness on the back of Cash’s hand and oh dear Lord, he’d gotten another one…
Cash followed where Alex’s eyes were now fixed and said, eyebrow raised, “What do you think? Got it done over the weekend.”
“It’s hideous,” Alex said flatly. “Truly hideous. I didn’t think you could top the dollar sign, but, wow.”
Cash clutched his hand to his heart and said, “DeLeon, you wound me!” He frowned, a little hurt seeping into his voice, and said, “You couldn’t even try to sugarcoat that a little?”
“I think the apostrophe is in the wrong place too,” Alex said, a little cruelly. A pause, then he couldn’t help adding, “Also, seriously, another visible tattoo? It’s not very professional.”
“Dude, I already have a white collar job,” Cash said. “And what era are you stuck in, the 50s? Frank at head office has the maddest scorpion on his neck, and he’s in management! People don’t care as long as you do your job properly.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not really doing that when you’re bothering me, are you?” Alex snapped.
Cash lifted both hands and said, “Whoah, sorry, don’t think too highly of yourself. I come up here strictly to mess with Marshall. Hey, buddy!” He called out across the room, and Marshall’s sandy head popped up over the side of his cubicle with a smile.
“But I didn’t want you pine over my absence too much,” Cash continued sardonically, hopping off Alex’s desk so quickly he knocked two pens to the ground, which he proceeded to ignore. “See you around, DeLeon.”
“Not if I can help it,” Alex muttered as he bent over to pick up the pens.
But he felt a little bit bad for saying it afterwards, and then he felt stupid for feeling bad over being mean to Cash Colligan. It wasn’t as if there was any reason for him to come and annoy Alex all the time.
**
“Alex, you promised. You pinky-swore to come, so are you seriously trying to wiggle out of this?”
Alex curled further into the corner of the couch and tried to make himself invisible. If Ian couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t badger him further about going to this Battle of the Bands thing, right? It’d been a long day at work - Pete had finally unveiled his top secret project, the office was getting ready for a visit from the Way brothers from the east coast division, and Alex had spent the afternoon running around Vegas trying to find a tastefully appropriate present for Mr Smith’s mother since Brendon had, once again, forgotten a big occasion.
“Alex, you are not blending with the couch, I can totally still see you. Get up, c’mon, it’s just for one night. I’ll buy all your drinks. Please?”
Alex waved a hand at the TV and said, “But it’s So You Think You Can Dance! You know I love - ”
“I think you love me more,” Ian said firmly. “Please, you know how much it means to me.” He looked at Alex with pleading eyes and Alex threw his head back on the couch and sighed.
“Alright, gimme fifteen and I’ll be ready,” he grumbled. “All my drinks for tonight, right?”
“All the damage your liver can handle,” Ian promised. “You’re the best!”
“I keep hearing that,” Alex said, disgruntled. “You and your shitty band owe me.”
This early in the night, there were a few kids hugging the barrier but more people were milling around the back like Alex was, half of them trying unsuccessfully to buy drinks with the back of their hands still smudged with ink.
Alex felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see two bright faces. One of the girls bit her lip and hissed excitedly at her friend, “See, I told you!”
“Um, can you, like, sign a napkin or something for us?” the other girl asked. “I swear I saw, like, every gig you did.”
“Thanks! Sure I can,” Alex said, preening a little. He leaned over the square of paper they handed him, and signed his name with a flourish.
“So what are you up to now? Like, are you still doing music and stuff?”
Alex’s face went blank, and he remembered now why he avoided the scene more often than not. He’d sold out, hadn’t he, gave up making music to work for the man; that’s what most of his friends from that time had said, their voices ugly.
“Oh, here and there, making a living,” he said politely. He excused himself and left, heading straight for the bar for an Ian-sponsored drink. But standing in the smoky club, watching another local band thrown before the wolves, Alex felt a wave of fond nostalgia. Time had made the memories hazier but somehow better; the girls clustered around the front of the stage had been hotter back in his day, the crowds bigger and more welcoming, surely.
But the band that was on now, well. They weren’t the worst band Alex had ever heard, but they were heading into the top five. The lead singer needed work, so much work; the drummer was a bar ahead of his entire band; and the guitarist was catatonically shuffling to his own three chord mess in the corner. Alex slid his eyes over to the fourth and final member, the bassist in a white v-neck top, and huh, he wasn’t too bad. Alex watched him for a while, trying to drown out the rest of the band. Maybe it was his own nostalgia for making music, but the guy definitely managed to make sweaty and dishevelled work for him as he played.
Then the bassist, head still down, slid his hand up the neck of his bass and grinned across the stage at his lead singer, and Alex narrowed his eyes. It was dark in the club, but he could just make out the curlicues spidering across the back of the bass player’s hand, and shit. He had just been checking out Cash Colligan.
Alex turned back to the bar and ordered another drink immediately.
A little later, watching Ian’s band onstage, Alex felt someone scoot up close behind him. “So I was near the bathrooms when I heard that, like, the great Alex DeLeon was here tonight,” Cash teased. “Do you, like, think he’d give me his autograph? And by autograph I mean - ”
“Yeah, thanks, I know what you mean,” Alex said. He was feeling a lot more mellow now, after Ian bought him a few more drinks, and passed him the joint a few times. He was even okay with the fact that Cash seemed to have no concept of personal space, and was talking directly into his ear while plastered against Alex’s back. Well, mostly okay.
“You’re all clammy and gross,” he said to Cash. “Stop getting your sweat all over me.”
Cash grinned at him fondly and said, “As you wish, princess.” He backed up the tiniest step, and bounced on his toes. “So, my band,” he said, “Did we blow your mind?”
“With how bad you were, yeah,” Alex said.
“Wow, you really don’t hold back, do you?” Cash said, rolling his eyes. “How’s a guy’s ego meant to withstand your constant assaults? How does your boyfriend cope with all that hostility?”
“My boyfriend?” Alex said, wrinkling his brow. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Cash nodded in the direction of the stage, and said, “I know you’re a little drunk right now, but surely your memory can’t be that bad. You know, the guy you came with. The hot one with the guitar, and all that hair.”
“Oh, Ian. Hah. I’m going to tell him you said he was hot. No, he’s just my roommate, man.”
“Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” Cash said, but he pressed a little closer again, and there was a small smile on his lips.
On stage, Ian looked like he was gearing up for a serious solo. From the back of the room came a loud WOOOOOOO! as a flock of drunk, shirtless dudebros came out of nowhere and plowed through the crowd. One of them, cup held aloft, knocked solidly into Alex’s left shoulder on his path to the front, showering him with cheap beer and throwing him aside. Alex stumbled and almost fell, but then Cash’s hands were at his sides, steadying him.
“Are you okay?” Cash whispered, his breath warm and moist on Alex’s neck.
“I’m fine,” Alex whispered back. Even as he said it though, he knew it was a lie. Suddenly, the room felt too hot, and Cash too close; suddenly, he was aware of his heart racing, loud in his ears. He blushed, and was grateful for the dim dark of the room.
For the rest of the set they stayed that way: Alex swaying imperceptibly to the music and mouthing along to every word, Cash steady and sure against his back, anchoring him. As the lights went up, Cash leaned forward and asked, voice low and kind, “You really miss the music, don’t you?” His hands were around Alex still, and Alex realised with a start that it felt too comfortable, almost familiar, the way Cash’s palms fitted around the curve of his hips.
“Do you still write? You shouldn’t have stopped performing,” Cash continued, and Alex felt trapped all of a sudden.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Alex snapped, and took a step forward so Cash would drop his hands and let him go. Then he looked everywhere but at Cash, as an awkward terrible silence fell between them.
He was saved by Ian, who was incredibly amped, and dove upon him while talking a mile a minute. “How amazing were we? Scale of ten to ten, give it to me straight,” he demanded.
Alex let himself be towed away by Ian’s enthusiasm, and his insistence there were some really hot girls who wanted to talk to them, out the front somewhere, really; he pretended not to notice that they were moving further and further away from Cash, who stood looking at Alex like he was still waiting for an answer.
“Hey, nice to hear you playing last night. You’re writing again?” Ian said the next day, as Alex stumbled into the kitchen after midday.
“Coffee,” Alex croaked, eyes still shut, and Ian laughed (loudly) before handing him a mug.
Once he felt more human, and light and sound didn’t hurt so much, Alex sat back and said, “Wait, what did you mean before?”
Ian pointed to the couch and said, “Your acoustic is out, and one of your writing notebooks too. I heard you strumming away before I fell asleep. It was a pretty tune, man.”
“Thanks,” Alex said. He had no recollection of it whatsoever. He wandered over and picked up the notebook, then winced at the drunken scribbles. Ian peered over his shoulder and hummed as he scanned the page.
“There, that bit,” he said, pointing to the scrawl along the bottom right.
Alex said, “I can’t even read that and I wrote it. Sing it for me again.”
Ian obliged, and Alex noted it down as best he could on a fresh page.
“And that bit there - ” Ian pointed to another part of the page. “That’s good. I could - wait - ”
He came back with his guitar, and said, “If you play that line I have this idea.”
Alex sat on the couch and tried the chords he’d noted down, while Ian started riffing on top of it.
They looked up a while later, when Alex’s stomach started grumbling.
“Whoah, when did it get dark?” Ian said. “And damn, I’m really hungry.”
“It’s been six hours!”
“Time flies when you’re having fun?” Ian said. “We haven’t done that in ages, man, that was awesome.” He paused, then said hesitantly, “You could always come to rehearsal with me, you know we wouldn’t mind the input.”
Alex stared down at the sheets of paper in front of him, the songs or parts of songs they’d knocked out that afternoon.
“I do miss this,” he admitted, “But I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”
Ian smiled, and left it at that.
But Alex started carrying his writing notebook in his bag again, and every weekend he spent a few hours holed up in the corner of his local coffee shop to try and fit his scraps of lyrics to the music he and Ian had come up with.
“Hey, what a coincidence.”
Alex started, looking up from his notebook to see who’d disturbed him in his quiet corner. He rolled his eyes when he saw that it was Cash.
“Yeah, it’s weird because I’ve never seen you here before,” Alex said. He left one of his earbuds in, but Cash didn’t take the hint and pulled up a chair.
“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning across the table. Alex frowned. Cash was acting like they were friends or something. Which they totally were not, not even after he had let Cash hold him or whatever had happened in the dark while he was obviously too drunk to think clearly.
“Spending some time by myself,” Alex says pointedly. He put the earbud back in and turned up the volume on his iPod.
Cash said something which was lost under the buzz of the music. Alex continued ignoring him, until Cash reached over, turned the notebook on the table the other way round, and started reading.
Alex switched off the music then and said, “What the hell? Did I say you - ”
“I asked,” Cash said, still reading. “Should’ve turned down the volume and listened.”
Alex tried to grab the notebook back, but Cash held tight. He said, “Seriously though, these aren’t bad. You got any music to go with it?”
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” Alex retorted. “Give me my book back.”
“I’m not finished,” Cash said, smirking. “Hey, you mind if I make a few suggestions? Cool.”
“Wait, what? No way - this is not a collaborative effort, Colligan. What are you adding - ”
“Can’t hear you, busy being creative,” Cash said. “La la lah. Are you kidding me, those two don’t rhyme.” He took a pencil stub out of his pocket and scratched out a word.
Alex made a few more futile attempts to wrestle his book and his words back. After a while, he gave up and sat behind Cash, reading the changes over his shoulder. Some of them were even good suggestions, not that he was ever going to admit that.
“Alright, there, done,” Cash said finally, handing Alex his notebook.
“I don’t know why I’m even listening to you on this, you’re in one of the worst bands I’ve ever had to listen to,” Alex grumbled, clutching his notebook to his chest.
“Okay, I know we suck,” Cash admitted. “We need someone good, someone who can really sing. And play. And keep time too.” He looked up from under his eyelashes and said to Alex, “Maybe you could form a band with me? With your talents and my good looks we’d be unstoppable.”
Alex tried not to notice how dark his lashes were against his cheek, nor the way his eyes were smiling.
“Hah,” Alex just said, “Only in your wildest dreams, Colligan.”
“Well, a boy needs dreams to keep him going,” Cash said wistfully.
He stood up and stretched, polo shirt riding up over his jeans, exposing a sliver of skin and the waistband of his underwear. Alex sneaked a look, then flushed and looked up, hoping Cash hadn’t noticed.
“So same bat time, same bat channel, yeah?” Cash said, “Bring something else we can work on. We can’t be a band with just one song.”
“We are not a band!” Alex hissed.
Cash just grinned and waved goodbye.
**
Three days out from Christmas, Alex decided he really hated Brendon (except for how he didn’t, not really).
“I hate you,” Alex grumbled at Brendon as he helped Brendon with his coat in the morning. “Forced leave sucks.”
“Don’t be such a Grinch,” Brendon said, laughing. “It’s a break over the Christmas-New Year period! I hear R&D are so grateful they’re bringing me baked goods for morning tea today.”
“Don’t eat anything Mr Ross offers you,” Alex warned immediately.
“But Ryan makes the best - ”
“Not during work hours,” Alex said, sighing. “Remember Easter last year?”
“Nope.”
“Exactly. So do as I say, don’t touch whatever he makes you.”
That night, as they officially closed for business for the holiday break, Brendon stopped by Alex’s desk on his way out and asked curiously, “Why are you mad that I’m giving you all more holidays? I thought everyone could do with some more time with their loved ones.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Alex muttered. Everyone knew how much Spencer’s family loved Brendon, and vice versa. “My dad’s spending Christmas with his wife’s side of the family this year, and my mom and stepdad are travelling. I didn’t want to intrude,” Alex added, before Brendon could ask any more awkward questions.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d be all alone,” Brendon said, and he looked so stricken at his good deed going awry that Alex hurriedly lied, “No, it’s okay, my roommate’s still in town. We can live it up for the holidays bro-style.”
Ian was actually going home for the holidays, leaving on a plane in less than three hours, but Alex didn’t want Brendon’s pity.
“Oh, that’s good,” Brendon said, the smile returning to his face. “Well, have a nice time then.”
He turned to go, and as Alex opened his mouth to say thanks, he noticed that someone had stuck a sprig of mistletoe over the main entrance of the office.
“Hey wait for me, I’ll walk you out,” Alex called, picking up the pace. Brendon slowed by the doors, but then he caught side of Spencer on the other side of the glass and his face lit up.
“Hey baby. My parents invited us over for dinner tonight, I was going to let you know earlier but I got held up at the office,” Spencer said as Brendon opened the door for him. “You okay to go straight from here?”
“Absolutely,” Brendon said. “Ooh, someone’s put some mistletoe up.” He grinned at Spencer and waggled his eyebrows.
Spencer laughed, and said, “Someone, hey?” But he was already leaning in, his arms going around Brendon easily. They kissed in the doorway, Brendon reaching up on his toes, a perfect silhouette for a long moment.
Alex stood frozen a few steps away and cursed his timing, Spencer, and just for good measure, the whole fucking world for conspiring against him.
Spencer dipped Brendon gently as they broke apart from the kiss, and Brendon giggled.
“You guys make me sick,” Alex said, then clapped his hands over his mouth; he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But Brendon and Spencer just laughed and Brendon said ruefully, “I know, we’re that couple, aren’t we?”
They left holding hands, Brendon chatting animatedly while Spencer gazed at him fondly. Alex sighed, and bent down to lock up the office.
“Oh hey, mistletoe!” he heard behind him, a much too familiar voice these days.
True to his word, Cash had shown up the week after at the coffee shop, clutching a sheaf of receipts and napkins with his own lyrics. Between work and the music brains trust, some weeks Alex felt he saw more of Cash than anyone else in his life..
“So tradition says we should kiss now,” Cash said as Alex turned around to face him, “And I’m a real traditionalist.”
“What are the chances of me getting past you without giving you a kiss?”
“Slim to none,” Cash replied, “C’mon, you didn’t even save me one of Ross’ brownies from morning tea, it’s the least you can do.”
Alex rolled his eyes, leaned over and pecked Cash’s cheek lightly, chastely. “There,” he said, “Happy holidays to you too.”
He made a move to leave, but Cash caught him by the arm and said, “Alex. Hey - ” He stopped, flicked his gaze down to the floor and back up again. Alex found himself moving closer to Cash despite himself. He opened his mouth to say he wasn’t in the mood - not after the display Brendon and Spencer had made - but Cash leaned in that same moment and said, breathlessly, “Just one kiss,” as their mouths met.
Cash smelt like musk, and a little of cigarette smoke. He tasted like candy canes, sweet and fresh. He kept one hand in the small of Alex’s back, and wove the other into the Alex’s hair, and held him there for one kiss, then two. Alex inhaled deeply and remembered how Cash’s hands felt on his hips all those weeks ago. He kissed Cash back hungrily, and gave up counting. He knew it was stupid, but it felt like the first thing that had gone right today.
When they broke for breath, Alex thought about pulling away but Cash held him tight and said, “Nuh-uh, don’t get skittish and run away again, DeLeon.” He paused then said, shyly, “So what are you doing tonight?”
“Well I was going to go home, eat some takeout, watch terrible Christmas TV shows, and cry myself to sleep about being alone over the holiday break.”
“Or you could go out on a date with me,” Cash said. “I think that sounds like a much better night for all involved.”
“Hmm,” Alex said, pretending to think about it.
Cash’s hands tightened on Alex’s waist. He said in a low voice, “Oh, so you need some convincing?” He pressed his lips against Alex’s throat, pulse against his tongue, and mouthed the skin softly. His hands slipped under the band of Alex’s trousers, stroking his lower back.
Alex felt his breath hitch. He said shakily, “Are you taking me on a proper date, or are you just going to tease me all night?”
Cash grinned and said, “I’ll pay for a proper dinner and everything, even.” He finally let go of Alex and held out his hand, nodding towards the lift. “C’mon!”
Alex could barely remember what they talked about over dinner. Sitting side by side in the cab home, Cash kissed him softly but insistently as they finished dessert, a taste of chocolate bitter and rich still on his tongue. And even though he’d only had one drink, Alex fumbled with the keys when they got to his door.
Cash leaned over his shoulder, arm around his waist, and started unbuttoning Alex’s shirt. Alex could feel that Cash was hard against him, and he bit his lip and willed the lock to work itself out because he could hardly think anymore. After another minute, Cash laughed and turned Alex to face him.
“Didn’t realise what an effect I had on you,” he murmured. He pressed their hips together and ground against Alex.
Alex said, half-joking, half-despairingly, “I’m never going to get that door open now.”
“We could give your neighbours a show,” Cash said, and he pushed Alex up against the door to kiss him again.
At that moment, the door opened and Alex and Cash stumbled through, barrelling into Ian.
“My eyes,” Ian shrieked.
“What are you still doing here?” Alex said, flustered, trying to stay upright and slip his hand out of Cash’s pants at the same time.
“My plane was cancelled, so I’m on a later flight,” Ian explained. “Luckily, I’m leaving now. You’re free to do whatever you like for the break.” Then he frowned and added, “But don’t defile the shared areas.”
Alex kept his face hidden on Cash’s shoulder as Ian dragged his luggage down the hallway.
“Let’s go have sex in the kitchen,” Cash said thoughtfully.
Ian yelled from around the corner, “I heard that! Don’t you dare, Colligan, or I’ll -”
Cash shut the door firmly and grinned at Alex.
“C’mere,” he said, pulling Alex to him. “I think we really should, now.”
“What, have sex in the kitchen,” Alex said doubtfully. “That’s not very hygienic.”
“Well, I meant the first part,” Cash said. He finished undoing the buttons on Alex’s shirt and stroked his hands down Alex’s sides. Alex shivered, and helped Cash pull off his shirt. Cash then put his hands on Alex’s belt and started pulling at the buckle, nudging Alex backwards along the corridor to his room. When the back of Alex’s knees hit the edge of his bed, Cash stopped to kiss him deeply. Alex curled his fingers into the bottom of Cash’s shirt and started tugging it up.
“That tickles,” Cash said, giggling, as Alex continued nudging his shirt up, his knuckles brushing across the skin of his stomach. He distracted Alex by kissing him again, but finally Alex got his Cash’s shirt up and over his head. He dropped a line of kisses along Cash’s shoulder, one hand sliding up his chest, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed -
“What is that?” Alex asked, “Do you really have - ”
Cash pushed him back onto the bed, sighed and said, “You do not need to focus on that right now.”
Alex said, as he sat up, “No, seriously, does that really say - nrggggh.”
He slumped back on the bed and threw an arm over his eyes as Cash slid down his body, and made sure he couldn’t think straight about whether or not he should be sleeping with someone who had a word ending with ‘-izzle’ tattooed over their heart.
Alex woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee. He yawned and stretched, and for a brief moment it seemed like any other day before work.
Then Cash walked into his room, in just a pair of plaid boxers, holding a mug in each hand.
“Your coffee maker is sweet,” he said, handing Alex a steaming mug.
Alex bent over his coffee and said weakly, “Yeah, we take caffeine pretty seriously around here.”
He drank deeply, and tried to sort things out in his mind. On one hand, Cash was kinda hot, they’d had amazing sex, and now he was bringing him coffee in bed. On the other hand, Cash was messy, annoying, and had some seriously bad tattoos. Alex sneaked a look over the rim of his cup, then shuddered. Yep, just as bad in broad daylight.
“Hey,” Cash said, breaking into his reverie. “Don’t drown in that coffee.” He lifted Alex’s head with a finger under the chin, and looked straight at him.
“I like you, Alex DeLeon,” he said seriously. “You’ve got some OCD issues, and a crush on your stupidly hot boss, but that didn’t stop me from wanting you. And I really like you, even though you’ve insulted everything about me, from my band to my tattoos. So stop stressing the other stuff, think about how you felt last night, and admit you like me too.”
“I’m just neat,” Alex protested, “And your band - your tattoos - ” When Cash gave him an incredulous look, he bit his lip and said softly, “But yeah, despite everything, I like you too.”
Cash smiled, and kissed him, fingers trailing along the side of his chest, as though he was playing Alex like an instrument.
“You taste really good,” Cash said, “And do you know what? We have the whole week with no work to go to, and your apartment all to ourselves.” He grinned, and pulled Alex up from the bed.
“We’re not having sex in the kitchen,” Alex warned, stumbling after Cash down the corridor.
“How about in Ian’s room?”
**
“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Brendon said, first day back at the office. He edged aside Alex’s desk organiser and perched on the edge of Alex’s desk. “What did you get up to over the break?”
Alex tried not to frown at Brendon for messing up his desk. He surreptitiously lined things back up, then sat back and said nonchalantly, “Nothing much. It turned out Cash, um, from Accounts? His family were away too, so we hung out a lot.”
Where ‘hung out’ meant having lots of sex, playing video games, and jamming on Alex’s guitar. They’d left the apartment only to get food and more coffee, and once for Cash to go home and bring a change of clothes.
Brendon nodded, and said distractedly, “Good, good.” He looked down expectantly at Alex, and Alex said, “Uh, so how was your break?”
“It was fantastic,” Brendon gushed, “Spencer surprised me with a trip to Hawaii for New Year’s, wasn’t that awesome of him? We went to the beach every day and went surfing and snorkelling and saw dolphins!”
“I thought you were looking - ” really good, Alex’s brain supplied reflexively, but then Alex thought about it some more and he said instead, “You’re looking very tanned.”
“Yeah, the both of us, we got burnt the first day but then you learn.” Brendon stretched, his shirt riding high and showing a sliver of skin above his underwear.
Alex pointedly looked away, and found Cash leaning on the wall of Marshall’s cubicle, looking wistfully back at him. Alex was startled when Brendon swore, turning back to his boss.
Alex said, “Are you okay?”
“I bumped your lamp,” Brendon said, wincing. “New tattoo’s still sore.”
“Oh, you got one on holiday?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, I got at this place along the boardwalk,” Brendon said excitedly, rolling up the sleeve of his arm to show Alex. “It was a spur of the moment idea, but I love it. See?”
"Wow, that looks...meaningful,” Alex said slowly, trying to keep the horror out of his voice as politely as he could.
Brendon smiled brightly and said, "Oh, it is! That's so perceptive of you, Alex."
“Does Mr Smith like it?” Alex pressed, feeling mischievous.
Brendon’s smile dimmed a little, and he said, “Um, well, he said he’d get used to it. Someday.” Brendon rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, agitated.
Alex said kindly, “Well, that’s true love. Learning to like those things we don’t…” He trailed off, as he caught sight of Cash still hovering by Marshall’s desk.
Brendon sat up straighter, the smile returning to his face, and said, “That’s a nice way of looking at it.” His expression went a little dreamy, and he added, “Maybe I could get a tattoo for Spencer too.”
Alex said drily, “I’m sure he’d love that,” and only felt a tiny bit evil for perpetuating some more tattoo fail for Spencer to deal with.
Brendon hummed and kicked his feet against Alex’s desk, lost in thought. Finally, Alex cleared his throat, and as Brendon turned to look at him, said firmly, “Brendon, can you get off my desk please? It’s…” Once upon a time, he would’ve said ‘distracting’, but now he was leaning towards ‘annoying’.
“Oh!” Brendon said, hopping off so quickly he knocked two pens to the floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to be, I just - I see Cash doing it all the time and you never seem to mind - ” he said, flustered.
Alex blushed, and lied, “Uh, does he? I hadn’t, um, noticed.”
Lucky for Alex, the phone rang and he dove to answer it. “Good morning, how may I - uh-huh - sure, I’ll just put you on hold for a moment, thanks.”
“It’s Mr Wentz’s newest protégé, for you,” Alex said to Brendon, shooing him back into his office. “Pick it up on line one.”
When he turned around, Cash was holding out the two pens Brendon had knocked over. “The blue one goes into the holder on the right, and the black into the left, right?” Cash asked.
Alex nodded.
“You and your OCD,” Cash said fondly, as he put the pens back into their right place. Then he sat down on the corner of Alex’s desk, in the space Brendon had just vacated, and Alex said nothing.
Cash crossed his arms, and asked, too casually, “So what was Urie talking to you about?”
“What he did over the break with Spencer. All about the beach and surf, I mean,” Alex said hurriedly, when Cash raised an eyebrow. “And then he showed me the new tattoo he got on his arm.” He couldn’t help but make a face.
Cash laughed. He said, “Don’t tell me, you think it’s hideous.”
Alex shushed him, looking back to make sure Brendon’s office door was shut.
“It’s…not my thing,” Alex said diplomatically.
Cash leaned in and said, “So it’s worse than mine, you’re saying?”
Alex groaned and said, “As if anything could be worse than what you’ve got.” But there was no venom in his tone, and Cash just chuckled, low and deep and pleased, moving closer so his lips brushed against Alex’s ear.
“Actually, I think you’d look really hot with a tattoo, right here,” Cash said, brushing his fingers down Alex’s side.
Alex pulled away, cheeks flushed, and willed himself not to get hard at his desk, in front of everyone. He said primly to Cash, “Uh, we’re at work.”
Cash smirked, and said, “Right, and your point is? Oh, I know, sex in the office!”
Alex put his head in his hands and said, “I can’t believe you just said that. Out loud, even.”
“But it’s what you were thinking,” Cash said. “And if you weren’t, hopefully you are thinking about it now.” He winked, and strolled away whistling.
Alex tried to focus on the routine of work. He answered a flood of emails, organised Brendon’s upcoming trip to LA for a meeting at head office, sent reminders to Brendon’s email, phone and calendar to make sure he remembered it, and went over to Marketing to get Greta to sign off on the latest campaign (and to gossip with Cassadee about what happened over the break).
Midway through the afternoon, Brendon dropped a five inch thick proposal on his desk and said apologetically, “Could you run ten copies of the booklet for me, Alex? The department heads are having a meeting tomorrow and I think everyone’s meant to have one of these.”
Alex sighed and said to Brendon, “It’s gonna take me an hour to do all those.”
Alex stood by the machine in the darkened room, lulled almost to sleep by the steady whirr and the blue glow, when he was surprised by Cash pressing up against him.
"Hey, fancy meeting you here,” Cash said into his ear, trailing his fingers over Alex's side, along the ridges of his ribs. He did that a lot, Alex realised, and he thought again about Cash’s idea about getting a tattoo there. He sucked in a breath as Cash slid his hands lower, and pushed back against Cash, suddenly hard.
Cash laughed and said softly, “You know you can set these to print and collate, you don’t have to watch over the process, right?”
“I know,” Alex whispered back, “But Brendon doesn’t. And the supply room next door locks.” He twisted his head to look up at Cash, and they grinned at each other.
END
(mini)comment-fic: How Cash bullies convinces Alex to form a band with him