Fic: Cash/Singer Part Two
Title: You're Repressing (Hold Me Down)
Author: battie_hattie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Cash/Singer (Cash/OFC, Singer/Brendon)
POV: 3rd, Cash
Back to Part One
Cash goes to Ian when there's a problem. Well, normally, Cash goes to Alex, but he can't this time. This time, it would be too weird. So, he goes to Ian.
“I have an issue,” he says to Ian as he scratches at his crotch.
“Please don't say it's related to your dick. I was trying to watch a movie.” He waves the remote at Cash. “I should have never given you a key to my place.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“You should learn to knock. What if I had been watching porn?”
“Wouldn't be the first time I caught you jerking off.”
Ian sighs. “I hated that apartment. Be glad you and Singer got the bedroom. Though, I'm still sure you two somehow cheated.”
“We didn't,” Cash says, sitting down. “I think I have crabs.”
Ian stares at him. “Don't sit on my couch. I'm not even kidding. Get up right now.”
Cash stares blankly for a moment and then jumps up. “Dude, I don't know. How do you know that you have crabs?”
Ian rubs his hands over his face. “Did you have sex with someone who has crabs?”
“I don't know. Her name was Amber or I don't know. Something A? Whatever. Maybe?”
Ian shakes his head. “I don't know why I'm even asking this, but did she have pubic hair?”
“Yeah, I think so. Maybe? I was drunk, I just had my tat done, and there was this fight with Singer.”
“So, this is about Singer?” Ian asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Huh?” Cash can feel himself start to flush already. “No.”
“Yeah. I so don't want to get into this right now.” He gets up and goes to his laptop on the kitchen table. He pulls up the CDC fact sheet on pubic lice. “So, you can get some treatments, or you could just shave everything off. Could be itchy, though.”
“Nothing could be worse that what's going on down there right now. You got a razor?”
“Fuck no, dude,” Ian says, eyes wide. “Get the fuck out of my apartment. Seriously. Go home, treat your infection and don't come back until you're clean.”
“Ian, I need help!”
“Go get Singer, then,” Ian says, shoving Cash out the door. Cash can hear the extra interior lock clicking behind him, and he knows that his key will do nothing about that.
He can't go to Alex. That would be just a weird story. Ian was his only hope. Well, sort of. Though, at least he knows what to do now. He's going to go home and shave all the hair off his body.
…
“We should totally get a place together,” Alex says, scanning the newspaper for apartments. “We'd be awesome living together.”
Cash scratches his balls. Growing the hair back in was just as bad as the crabs. Even his ass itches. He's not sure if he had to shave his ass, but he did anyway. And under his arms. And his head. Those little bastards were gone. He made sure of that. “Huh?”
“An apartment. I'm tired of living with my parents, and we're making some money now. We should move out. We could do whatever we want. Like being on tour without having to sleep in a moving van that smells like ass. Or like recording, only without one room and five people.”
“Yeah, um.” And his mind disengages and he can't think of a reason they shouldn't move in together. Other than the whole jerking off to his best friend thing. And that's not really a reason. That's a one-sided affair that Alex shouldn't have to suffer for. Plus, he wouldn't have to live with his mom anymore. “That's awesome. Yeah, we should do that.”
Alex jumps up. “They have a special at this place. Move in for $99 and then it's only $575 a month. We could totally do that between the two of us. And we could have electric and internet and everything. Though, it's kind of in a shady neighborhood.” He frowns at the paper.
“Singer,” Cash says. “We can afford way more than that. We're not making buckets of money or anything, but we're making enough for a nice place. Plus, they're going to have us do something with Panic in the fall, you know they are. Look online.”
“Sometimes it's weird, you know? I forget that we have money. That we've been doing all this work and that it's paying off.”
Cash nods. “I know. You remember when we were in high school? And you were talking about doing college? And I said that we would make the music thing work?”
“Yeah,” Alex says, nodding solemnly. “I remember that. And you said that it would. I wouldn't need a fall back.”
“You don't need a fall back. You still don't. Let's get a nice place. A place we can call home, you know, for the 12 minutes we're not on the road.”
Alex grins. “OK. Hold on.” He runs to his bedroom and comes back with his laptop. He curls up next to Cash. “Help me look.”
Cash leans into Alex as he types in the web address. Alex smells really good. It's really kind of distracting.
“Dude, we could move to Summerlin,” Alex says pointing at the screen. “Or North Vegas. Or Henderson.” Cash leans in a little more because he can. “We could even live near Panic. Not in a fancy house like them,” Alex continues. “But you know, in an apartment near them.”
“Because it's not like we're their stalkers already or anything,” Cash replies.
Alex shoves at him. “Shut up. Plus, they live in a really nice neighborhood. Let's live there, please?”
“Yeah.” He reaches over and plugs in Panic's zip code. “Oh, I know that one,” he says pointing to the top listing. “That's super nice. We'd each have our own bathrooms. I like that one.”
Alex leans in and nuzzles slightly at Cash's neck and Cash is reminded of the night Alex came over and got drunk. Only he's not drunk now. “Put your information in,” Cash tells him. “Make an appointment and we can go see it before we leave on tour. Maybe they'll have something and we can move in before we leave.”
“You do it,” Alex says, pushing the laptop at Cash. “Sleepy.”
Cash moves so that his lips are grazing the top of Alex's forehead. “Did you not get your fourteen hours of sleep today, baby?”
Alex shoves at him. “Shut up. I had insomnia again.”
Cash sighs as he puts in the required information. “When did it start?”
Alex shrugs.
“When she dumped you, huh?”
Alex nods sadly. Cash presses send and closes Alex's computer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Cash thanks god for small miracles. “OK, anything I can do to help with the sleeping?”
“No.” He hides his face behind his hair and Cash knows that he's lying.
“What? Singer, come on, tell me. You know I'll do it.”
“Can I be the little spoon?”
Cash swallows. A part of him knew that Alex was going to ask that. That same little, hopeful part that thought that maybe, possibly, it was going to be more than just cuddling. “Yeah.” He pauses. “Now?”
Alex yawns. “I would love a nap, but you know, we don't, not right now, if you don't want.”
“No, you look wrecked.” He puts the laptop onto the coffee table. “When are your parents coming back?”
Alex shrugs. “Don't know, don't care. They'll see your car, they'll know it's you.”
“Yeah, of course.” Alex's parents have never cared when Cash is there. He grabs the computer and pulls Alex to his feet. “Shouldn't leave your laptop out. I don't know what you've been downloading. You know, porn wise.”
“Shut up,” Alex says, slapping at him. “Also, it's password protected.”
“Maybe I'll use it to look at porn while you're sleeping.”
“You can't!” Alex protests as they enter his bedroom. “You can't watch porn and be the big spoon. It's just. You can't!”
Cash laughs and puts the computer on the desk after locking the door to Alex's room. He does it out of habit, because Alex does. Mrs. DeLeon had a habit of just walking into her teenage son's room without knocking, and Mr. DeLeon had just made it a house rule that Alex should keep it locked. His mom hadn't been able to look him in the eye for weeks when she'd walked in on a particularly vigorous jerking off session junior year.
Alex kicks his pants off and Cash does the same. He knows that most guys don't spend their time spooning their friends, but he's on a very confusing label, OK?
They crawl under the covers together and Cash snugs up tightly behind Alex. “Like this?” he asks, even though he knows he's doing it right. It isn't the first time Alex has asked to spoon.
Alex hums softly and cuddles against a pillow. “So sleepy.”
“I know,” Cash murmurs until Alex falls asleep.
…
Touring is hard, and it's something that Cash never really gets used to. He loves it, playing the live shows, hanging out with his friends. He's getting paid to do what he loves. But it's also long hours in a stuffy van, pressed up against Alex. But then, even when they're home, they're at their apartment and it's nearly as bad there. Half the time Alex ends up in his bed anyway. And it's been getting harder and harder to separate friendship and what he actually wants.
He knows on the tours that Alex isn't alone. Something's going on, but Cash has no idea what it is. But he seems happy, so Cash isn't going to complain about his friend's happiness.
“Dude,” Alex says, bouncing into the room. “Dude, Panic wants us to hang tonight before our set.”
Cash laughs at the way Alex says it, like he still doesn't believe it. And he doesn't have the heart to tell him that Brendon had texted him this morning to tell him to come out to hang before the show starts. He was just waiting for Alex to come home.
“How's my hair?” Alex asks, smoothing it down in the mirror.
“It's good, dude. You look hot.” Seriously, he really needs to connect his brain to his mouth sometimes.
“I'm so fucking horny. I'm not even joking. My dick hurts.”
Cash pinches the bridge of his nose. “It's those tiny girl jeans you're wearing.”
Alex looks down. “I got these with Brendon last week. You like?”
“Yeah, you look good. You want to wear a coat or something?”
Alex shakes his head. “Nah, it's warm out still.”
Cash grabs his coat for him anyway. He knows otherwise Alex will steal his by the end of the night.
“So,” Alex starts. “We'll go to there, hang for a bit, and then do the show. It'll be awesome.”
…
Brendon's got Alex on his hands and knees, spread open and grasping to the side of Ryan's car door.
“Take it,” Brendon groans, thrusting in hard. “Take that big fucking cock, you pretty little bitch.”
Alex moans and his head slams up against the window. He braces himself on his hand, leaving a sweaty mark on the clean class. “Brendon,” he gasps.
“Yeah, baby. Take that cock.” He thrusts in harder. “You love a big fat dick up your ass, don't you baby?”
Alex's fingers curl ineffectually against the glass.
“Say yes,” Brendon growls. “Say you love my cock.”
“Love your cock. Love your cock,” Alex chants. He arches up and streaks come across the interior window.
Brendon lifts up and pulls on Alex until his back is pressed up against Brendon's chest. “Gonna come in your ass. You want that, baby?”
“Yes,” Alex says weakly. “Do it.”
Brendon twists Alex's nipple and fills the condom with a groan. When his orgasm stops, he places wet kisses along Alex's neck. “Hey,” he says softly, pulling at Alex's softening cock.
“Don't,” Alex breathes. “Too sensitive.”
Brendon chuckles. “That was awesome. You're so fucking tight. And responsive. Jesus. We need to do this again.”
Alex falls forward a little bit when Brendon lets him go. “It's gonna, just a second,” he warns before grasping the base of his cock and pulling out. He flicks the condom off his cock and under the driver's seat. “Dude, I want to see Ryan's face later.”
Alex laughs weakly. “We should clean this up.”
“Nuh uh,” Brendon says. “I'm getting Ross back. Don't worry about it.”
Alex rolls slightly so that he can lay on his back and look at Brendon. Brendon leans down and kisses him gently. “You've got your show in 20. You should get dressed.”
“Yeah, sure.” He reaches up and runs a hand through Brendon's sweaty hair. “Do, you, uh? My clothes?”
“I think your shoes and socks are outside, unless someone took them. Dude, we should have cracked a window open or something. Though it's nice and sex smelling in here.” He glances at the window. “That's a fucking awesome come shot. Did you aim or did that just happen?”
“Just happened,” Alex says, reaching for his pants.
“Those are mine,” Brendon says, pulling the pants away from Alex. He grabs another pair from the driver's seat. “These are yours.” He pushes the door open, letting the cold air hit their naked skin. “It would have sucked if there were people out here.” He looks around. “We're clear. Be easier to get dressed out here.”
Alex nods.
…
“You OK?” Cash asks after the set. “You were moving a little sluggish out there.”
Alex shrugs. “Yeah. Just a little sore. Sex in the backseat of a car isn't as pleasant as you would think. Hot as fuck, I came like a freight train, but still, awkward.”
Cash drops the bottle of water he'd been holding. “Say what? Who was she?”
“He,” Alex says with a smile. “I just totally got fucked by Brendon Urie in the backseat of Ryan's car!”
Cash resists the urge to upchuck onto Alex's hightops. There's still bile in his throat and he can feel his face flushing red. He loves Brendon, he does. He also knows Brendon believes in fucking anything with a pulse, as long as it's not with an animal or a child. Cash is sure that Brendon didn't know that Alex hadn't done it with a guy before, and he's pretty sure that he never even said Alex's name. He and Brendon had talked about it once before, how Brendon had just started calling all his partners 'baby' so he didn't have to worry about saying the wrong name during sex.
“So how was it?” Cash asks tightly. “Didn't know you'd fully embraced the gay.”
“It was time. Dude, it hurt like a fucking bitch. I don't think he took enough time.” He stops and blushes. “Dude, sorry if I'm gay-ing you out.”
“Did he hurt you?” Cash grabs Alex by the shoulders. “Did he fucking hurt you? Are you bleeding?”
“I don't. I don't think so. Cash, are you OK?”
“Let me see.”
“Huh?”
“I need to check you out. Brendon can be...” he searches for the right word. “Overenthusiastic.”
“You fucked him then?” Alex asks, stepping back. “Did you?”
“No.” And it's the honest truth. He never once fucked Brendon. Brendon'd tried, but Cash didn't want to, on the off chance that he got with Alex one day, Cash didn't want to have to explain away indiscretions with labelmates. “I've just. He told me things, OK? And you were moving really rough during the show, and you said it hurt. Just let me check you out.”
Alex bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says. “But, um.”
“Bathroom,” Cash says, pulling him down the hall. He flips the lock behind them. “OK, bend over the sink and pull down your pants.”
Alex unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his knees. “Don't tell anyone about this,” he whispers.
“Of course not.” Cash's throat is dry. He can still see the marks of Brendon's hands on Alex's ass and the start of bruises on his narrow hips. “He used lube, right?”
“And a condom. I'm not dumb.” Alex bends slightly. “Ow.”
Cash reaches around him and turns on the tap. “Water should work then, rehydrate the lube.” He pauses. “Hold on, I should wash my hands first.” He soaps up and rinses them clean, letting the water warm up so Alex will be more comfortable. He slides back around Alex. “OK, you're going to feel some pressure.”
Alex laughs. “I had a dick up there earlier, I think I know what it's like to have something up there.”
Cash's toes curl in anger, but his hand is steady as he slips it between Alex's cheeks. It feels OK, swollen, but nothing seems damaged. He wriggles his finger around a bit, glad to find that if nothing else, Alex is well lubed.
Alex hisses. “Sore.”
“I know.” Cash pulls his finger out and breaths out a sigh of relief when it comes out without any blood. “You're OK. Lemme wash my hands again.”
Alex moves back and pulls his pants up again. “Thanks, Cash. You're a really good friend.”
Yeah, Cash is a really good friend, in love with his best friend, and on a new mission to kill his hero.
…
“I can't believe you,” Cash snarls the second he's got Brendon alone in the practice room. “I can't believe you fucking did that.”
“Did what?” Brendon asks nonchalantly as he picks up his guitar.
“You know what I'm talking about, asshole.” Cash's hands ball into fists.
“I really don't, Cash.”
“Singer.”
Brendon's head snaps up. “What about him?”
“You fucked him. In the back of Ryan's car. As some sort of bet, or something, I'm sure.”
Brendon blinks at him. “Dude, it wasn't like that. I was getting Ross back for the time he.”
Cash lunges at him before he can finish. “You fucking asshole. He'd never done that before.” He shoves Brendon into the wall. “You ruined him. It was his first time, and you just fucking used him and ruined him!” He slams his fists into Brendon's shoulder. It's sort of the last straw. His emotional camel has been taking on baggage for too many years. “You fucking ruined him for me!”
Brendon grabs at Cash's fists. “What the hell, dude? This isn't even your business.” He pushes Cash back and off of him.
Cash falls to the floor, shaking. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I was going to. There was. We were.” He thinks about all the things he was going to do for Alex, to make that first time special. The candles, the flowers, all that girly shit that he knew Alex would love. “You ruined him,” he says again. He's not even sure what that means, but it's just what he feels. Alex is somehow tainted, and Brendon did it.
Brendon leans against the wall to catch his breath. “Dude, I didn't know. Hand to whatever deity you want, I would have never touched him if I knew.”
Cash wipes at his eyes again. He's not crying. But he's just sort of making sure that he doesn't because he feels a full blown brain snap building up in his blood. “Whatever. You don't even care about him.”
“I didn't know,” Brendon says softly. “I didn't know.” He leans down next to Cash. “I thought, he never said.” He stands up straight again and puts his hands in his hair. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“You have to tell him,” Brendon says. “He doesn't know. Not at all.”
“Like you took the time to figure it out.”
“No, it's just that I'm not.” He stops and looks at Cash. “Don't shoot the messenger on this one, but I'm not the first guy that he's.”
Cash shoots him an angry stare. He knows that Brendon was Alex's first time, and if Brendon tries to back out of that now, Cash is going to kill him.
“I was the first that went that far, OK? I know that now. But he. He's been with guys. Other ways,” Brendon says delicately.
The room starts to spin. “I've missed my chance.”
“No,” Brendon says. “OK, maybe to be the first. But not to be the last. You've got to do something though. He's not going to just wait around for something he doesn't even know is a possibility.”
Cash nods, licking at his dry lips. “I have to go.”
“Yeah,” Brendon replies. “You know your way out.”
Cash turns and punches Brendon in the face. “That's for making me have to check him to make sure he wasn't bleeding.”
Brendon winces and puts his hand to his bloody nose. “Yeah, I had that one coming. Shit.”
“Sorry,” Cash says.
“Me too.”
…
Alex is curled up into a tight little ball on his bed when Cash finds him. “Singer,” Cash says, pushing the door open. “I went home and you weren't there. And then I came here and your mom said you were up here and that I could just come in. Are you OK?”
Alex sniffles. “I let Brendon fuck me.”
Cash rolls his eyes, only because he knows Alex can't see him. “I know, you told me.”
“No, I mean, I let him just fuck me. I don't mean anything to him.”
Cash stretches his hand out, looking at the newly formed bruise on his knuckles. Normally, he would say something cutting, try to laugh it off. But he can't. He stares at the Justin Timberlake poster on the wall, and sort of smiles at the way that Alex's mom has kept the room as sort of a shrine. Most of Alex's stuff is gone now, residing at their apartment, but there's enough of Alex still at his parents house. He takes a deep breath. “I know. I should have warned you. I should have protected you.”
Cash can hear Alex crying, softly, and Cash knows he's trying to hide it. “Alex,” Cash says. “Alex, scoot over.”
“Go away,” Alex sniffles.
“No. Not happening.” Cash lays down on the bed and Alex makes room for him. “You get to be the little spoon. You like being the little spoon, right?”
Alex laughs. “Stop being so nice.”
“Nope.” He pushes the blankets away from Alex's face. “Hey, it's going to be OK.” He stares at Alex for a long time and then leans down, kissing him lightly.
He's surprised when Alex shoves at him with enough force to knock him off the bed. “Alex?”
“What are you doing? You think I'm easy now or something?” Alex's face glistens bright with tears. “Please go.”
“I don't think. Nothing. It's not like that, Alex.”
“Go away!”
“Boys?” Alex's mom's voice drifts up the stairs. “Is everything OK?”
“Yes, Mrs. DeLeon. I'm actually going.” He looks at Alex. “I messed this up, but I'll fix it. I'm a fixer.”
He heads down the stairs and ignores Alex calling after him.
…
Fixing it for Cash apparently means getting shitfaced drunk with Spencer. “I didn't know, did you know?” Cash slurs.
Spencer blinks at him. “Dude, you just started talking right now. All those other thoughts that you were having? All in your head, dude.”
Cash swallows down the rest of his vodka. “Huh? So you didn't hear all the stuff about Singer's epic dick sucking?”
Spencer shakes his head slowly. “No, I didn't. I mean, I heard about it. I think I saw it once, but you weren't talking until you asked if I knew or not.”
“You knew?” Cash asks. “Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“I don't think we knew it was something we should be telling you.” He pulls Cash's drink away from him. “Will making you stop drinking now keep you from vomiting later?”
“Probably not.”
“OK then.” Spencer pours him another drink. “So, you're mad that Singer's going with other boys.”
“Make it sound more like you're about to break into a musical number, please.”
Spencer rolls his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?”
“He let Brendon fuck him.”
Spencer closes his eyes and rubs at his temples. “Does it have anything to do with Brendon having two black eyes?”
Cash blinks. “I only punched him once.”
“And so did Ryan. OK, mystery one solved. I'm guessing it has to do with what happened to Ryan's car. Anyway. You're in love with Singer.”
“I wouldn't say in love.”
Spencer huffs out a breath. “Either admit it right now or I'm not going to help you.”
“Love him. Yes. Kissed him. Yes.”
“And how'd that go?”
“He kicked me out.”
“Oh,” Spencer says, fiddling with his glass. “That doesn't bode well for your cause.”
“He was sort of crying over the fact that he let Brendon fuck him at the time.”
“I'm going to need so much therapy.”
Cash moans pitifully. “He's never going to love me back, is he? I thought I did everything right. We have the band, he's with me all the time, but he's not with me.”
“Making a move on your crying best friend, especially when he's crying over another guy, is sort of a douchebag move. What happened when he kicked you out?”
“I told him I would fix it, then fled like I stole something even though he was yelling for me to come back. Oh, and maybe I also brushed off his mom.”
“Wow. I.” Spencer downs his drink in one long gulp. “Why do you hate me?”
“What?”
“Why didn't you just come to me before you Cash Money-ed all over it?”
“Spencer, come on, you're my go to guy. Because of you I got to keep him the first time.”
“What?”
“You took our demo,” Cash says. “You got us signed. If you didn't then Singer would have gone to college and I would have ended up working at some car wash or something and he would have forgotten all about me.”
“He would never, ever forget about you. I think that you need to realize that. With or without this record deal.” He stops. “OK, now that the room has stopped spinning, I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“You ever think about telling Singer all these things?”
“I. You can't just tell someone that.”
“You just told me.”
“Yeah,” Cash says softly. “OK, well now I'm going to go puke for a while and then pass out on your bathroom floor. See you in the morning?”
“I'll be here. On this couch, because the room is spinning again.”
…
Cash wakes up with Spencer's dog licking at his face and the worst hangover of his life. “Go 'way,” he slurs. “Stop licking me.”
“Boba, out.” The dog scampers away and Cash tries to rub the slobber off his face with the back of his hand. “Here,” the voice says, handing Cash a water bottle. It's not Spencer. Cash knows that. Actually, it sounds a little like Alex.
“Now I'm having hallucinations. I want him so bad that I think he's here right now.” He rolls over and moans into the bathroom rug.
“Cash.” The voice is more insistent and it definitely belongs to Alex DeLeon.
“Alex?”
“Yeah.” Alex squats down on the floor. “How's the hangover?”
“I don't know what's worse, the hangover or life.”
“Both can be fixed, I think.”
Cash rolls over and looks at Alex. “So, I'm in love with you.”
Alex makes a face. “God, your breath is really, really bad.”
“Wow, I tell you I love you, and you tell me that I smell bad.”
“Yeah, at least get some mouth wash. Jesus, were you and Spencer drinking turpentine last night?”
“Vodka.” He pushes himself off the floor and resists the urge to dry heave. “Sorry I kissed you.”
“Mouthwash. Right now,” Alex says, thrusting the bottle at him.
Cash opens the top and takes a swig. He counts to 60 in his head, because he knows that Alex is counting too. He spits. “OK, what?” He's cut off with the press of Alex's lips to his, hips pressing against his own.
Alex breaks away. “How come you didn't just tell me? I asked you to the dance forever ago, you said no.”
“I thought you just wanted to go as friends! I couldn't do that. OK, ow, light is bright.” Cash shields his eyes.
Alex blinks. “OK, so I was just maybe guessing that this thing went back to high school, and now you've just gone and proved that, and wow, that's kind of a lot of pressure to put on a guy.”
Cash rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Reason 1,012 that I haven't told you. It's. There's been so many times, but you kept. I didn't think that you liked guys. And I tried to think that maybe I liked guys and was focusing on you because of that, but yeah, it was like senior year that I realized it was a very you-specific situation.”
“Me too,” Alex says softly. “You know. With the whole you specific thing. I wasn't sure until. Like, I don't know, maybe 30 seconds ago, but it all makes sense. I think.”
Cash winces when he tries to put logic into the conversation. “Never drinking again.”
Alex kisses his temple. “You always say that.”
“I think I really mean it this time. Why are you here, anyway?”
Alex blinks at him. “I figured that the other day, you know, in my room? When you kissed me? I think I jumped the gun. And you left, and you wouldn't come back. We just talked about it before you said you're never drinking again. It was like 10 seconds ago.”
“No,” Cash says, cutting him off. “I mean, how did you know I was here?”
“Oh, Spencer called me. Said you were being a douche and that you were passed out on his bathroom floor. Which, actually, I wasn't surprised about, because last night, Brendon came over to the apartment and said that he was an epic asshat, and that you punched him in the face. Also, that I should talk to you, but he couldn't say why.”
“I sort of defended your virtue. Felt like it was the friendly thing to do.” He shrugs when Alex stares at him. “Also, there might have been a jealousy factor, but whatever.” Cash pulls on the end of one of Alex's strands of hair. “So, this whole me being in love with you thing?”
“I think,” Alex says softly. “I think I feel the same way.”
“You think?”
“Tell me something. Tell me anything to make me, I don't know.”
Cash smiles. “You always need something tangible, don't you?” He leans against the counter and spreads his legs so that Alex can slip between them. “You want to know something like I love the way you smack your lips in your sleep, or that when you're nervous, and singing, you squeak. And you try to hide it by pretending you're trying out a new high note. Even though you're right handed, you're left hand is the one that doesn't stop moving when you're excited.” He moves in and rubs his nose against Alex's and Alex smiles. “I knew you'd be a sucker for eskimo kisses.”
“I think you just removed that think.”
“Yeah, I did.”
Author: battie_hattie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Cash/Singer (Cash/OFC, Singer/Brendon)
POV: 3rd, Cash
Back to Part One
Cash goes to Ian when there's a problem. Well, normally, Cash goes to Alex, but he can't this time. This time, it would be too weird. So, he goes to Ian.
“I have an issue,” he says to Ian as he scratches at his crotch.
“Please don't say it's related to your dick. I was trying to watch a movie.” He waves the remote at Cash. “I should have never given you a key to my place.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“You should learn to knock. What if I had been watching porn?”
“Wouldn't be the first time I caught you jerking off.”
Ian sighs. “I hated that apartment. Be glad you and Singer got the bedroom. Though, I'm still sure you two somehow cheated.”
“We didn't,” Cash says, sitting down. “I think I have crabs.”
Ian stares at him. “Don't sit on my couch. I'm not even kidding. Get up right now.”
Cash stares blankly for a moment and then jumps up. “Dude, I don't know. How do you know that you have crabs?”
Ian rubs his hands over his face. “Did you have sex with someone who has crabs?”
“I don't know. Her name was Amber or I don't know. Something A? Whatever. Maybe?”
Ian shakes his head. “I don't know why I'm even asking this, but did she have pubic hair?”
“Yeah, I think so. Maybe? I was drunk, I just had my tat done, and there was this fight with Singer.”
“So, this is about Singer?” Ian asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Huh?” Cash can feel himself start to flush already. “No.”
“Yeah. I so don't want to get into this right now.” He gets up and goes to his laptop on the kitchen table. He pulls up the CDC fact sheet on pubic lice. “So, you can get some treatments, or you could just shave everything off. Could be itchy, though.”
“Nothing could be worse that what's going on down there right now. You got a razor?”
“Fuck no, dude,” Ian says, eyes wide. “Get the fuck out of my apartment. Seriously. Go home, treat your infection and don't come back until you're clean.”
“Ian, I need help!”
“Go get Singer, then,” Ian says, shoving Cash out the door. Cash can hear the extra interior lock clicking behind him, and he knows that his key will do nothing about that.
He can't go to Alex. That would be just a weird story. Ian was his only hope. Well, sort of. Though, at least he knows what to do now. He's going to go home and shave all the hair off his body.
…
“We should totally get a place together,” Alex says, scanning the newspaper for apartments. “We'd be awesome living together.”
Cash scratches his balls. Growing the hair back in was just as bad as the crabs. Even his ass itches. He's not sure if he had to shave his ass, but he did anyway. And under his arms. And his head. Those little bastards were gone. He made sure of that. “Huh?”
“An apartment. I'm tired of living with my parents, and we're making some money now. We should move out. We could do whatever we want. Like being on tour without having to sleep in a moving van that smells like ass. Or like recording, only without one room and five people.”
“Yeah, um.” And his mind disengages and he can't think of a reason they shouldn't move in together. Other than the whole jerking off to his best friend thing. And that's not really a reason. That's a one-sided affair that Alex shouldn't have to suffer for. Plus, he wouldn't have to live with his mom anymore. “That's awesome. Yeah, we should do that.”
Alex jumps up. “They have a special at this place. Move in for $99 and then it's only $575 a month. We could totally do that between the two of us. And we could have electric and internet and everything. Though, it's kind of in a shady neighborhood.” He frowns at the paper.
“Singer,” Cash says. “We can afford way more than that. We're not making buckets of money or anything, but we're making enough for a nice place. Plus, they're going to have us do something with Panic in the fall, you know they are. Look online.”
“Sometimes it's weird, you know? I forget that we have money. That we've been doing all this work and that it's paying off.”
Cash nods. “I know. You remember when we were in high school? And you were talking about doing college? And I said that we would make the music thing work?”
“Yeah,” Alex says, nodding solemnly. “I remember that. And you said that it would. I wouldn't need a fall back.”
“You don't need a fall back. You still don't. Let's get a nice place. A place we can call home, you know, for the 12 minutes we're not on the road.”
Alex grins. “OK. Hold on.” He runs to his bedroom and comes back with his laptop. He curls up next to Cash. “Help me look.”
Cash leans into Alex as he types in the web address. Alex smells really good. It's really kind of distracting.
“Dude, we could move to Summerlin,” Alex says pointing at the screen. “Or North Vegas. Or Henderson.” Cash leans in a little more because he can. “We could even live near Panic. Not in a fancy house like them,” Alex continues. “But you know, in an apartment near them.”
“Because it's not like we're their stalkers already or anything,” Cash replies.
Alex shoves at him. “Shut up. Plus, they live in a really nice neighborhood. Let's live there, please?”
“Yeah.” He reaches over and plugs in Panic's zip code. “Oh, I know that one,” he says pointing to the top listing. “That's super nice. We'd each have our own bathrooms. I like that one.”
Alex leans in and nuzzles slightly at Cash's neck and Cash is reminded of the night Alex came over and got drunk. Only he's not drunk now. “Put your information in,” Cash tells him. “Make an appointment and we can go see it before we leave on tour. Maybe they'll have something and we can move in before we leave.”
“You do it,” Alex says, pushing the laptop at Cash. “Sleepy.”
Cash moves so that his lips are grazing the top of Alex's forehead. “Did you not get your fourteen hours of sleep today, baby?”
Alex shoves at him. “Shut up. I had insomnia again.”
Cash sighs as he puts in the required information. “When did it start?”
Alex shrugs.
“When she dumped you, huh?”
Alex nods sadly. Cash presses send and closes Alex's computer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Cash thanks god for small miracles. “OK, anything I can do to help with the sleeping?”
“No.” He hides his face behind his hair and Cash knows that he's lying.
“What? Singer, come on, tell me. You know I'll do it.”
“Can I be the little spoon?”
Cash swallows. A part of him knew that Alex was going to ask that. That same little, hopeful part that thought that maybe, possibly, it was going to be more than just cuddling. “Yeah.” He pauses. “Now?”
Alex yawns. “I would love a nap, but you know, we don't, not right now, if you don't want.”
“No, you look wrecked.” He puts the laptop onto the coffee table. “When are your parents coming back?”
Alex shrugs. “Don't know, don't care. They'll see your car, they'll know it's you.”
“Yeah, of course.” Alex's parents have never cared when Cash is there. He grabs the computer and pulls Alex to his feet. “Shouldn't leave your laptop out. I don't know what you've been downloading. You know, porn wise.”
“Shut up,” Alex says, slapping at him. “Also, it's password protected.”
“Maybe I'll use it to look at porn while you're sleeping.”
“You can't!” Alex protests as they enter his bedroom. “You can't watch porn and be the big spoon. It's just. You can't!”
Cash laughs and puts the computer on the desk after locking the door to Alex's room. He does it out of habit, because Alex does. Mrs. DeLeon had a habit of just walking into her teenage son's room without knocking, and Mr. DeLeon had just made it a house rule that Alex should keep it locked. His mom hadn't been able to look him in the eye for weeks when she'd walked in on a particularly vigorous jerking off session junior year.
Alex kicks his pants off and Cash does the same. He knows that most guys don't spend their time spooning their friends, but he's on a very confusing label, OK?
They crawl under the covers together and Cash snugs up tightly behind Alex. “Like this?” he asks, even though he knows he's doing it right. It isn't the first time Alex has asked to spoon.
Alex hums softly and cuddles against a pillow. “So sleepy.”
“I know,” Cash murmurs until Alex falls asleep.
…
Touring is hard, and it's something that Cash never really gets used to. He loves it, playing the live shows, hanging out with his friends. He's getting paid to do what he loves. But it's also long hours in a stuffy van, pressed up against Alex. But then, even when they're home, they're at their apartment and it's nearly as bad there. Half the time Alex ends up in his bed anyway. And it's been getting harder and harder to separate friendship and what he actually wants.
He knows on the tours that Alex isn't alone. Something's going on, but Cash has no idea what it is. But he seems happy, so Cash isn't going to complain about his friend's happiness.
“Dude,” Alex says, bouncing into the room. “Dude, Panic wants us to hang tonight before our set.”
Cash laughs at the way Alex says it, like he still doesn't believe it. And he doesn't have the heart to tell him that Brendon had texted him this morning to tell him to come out to hang before the show starts. He was just waiting for Alex to come home.
“How's my hair?” Alex asks, smoothing it down in the mirror.
“It's good, dude. You look hot.” Seriously, he really needs to connect his brain to his mouth sometimes.
“I'm so fucking horny. I'm not even joking. My dick hurts.”
Cash pinches the bridge of his nose. “It's those tiny girl jeans you're wearing.”
Alex looks down. “I got these with Brendon last week. You like?”
“Yeah, you look good. You want to wear a coat or something?”
Alex shakes his head. “Nah, it's warm out still.”
Cash grabs his coat for him anyway. He knows otherwise Alex will steal his by the end of the night.
“So,” Alex starts. “We'll go to there, hang for a bit, and then do the show. It'll be awesome.”
…
Brendon's got Alex on his hands and knees, spread open and grasping to the side of Ryan's car door.
“Take it,” Brendon groans, thrusting in hard. “Take that big fucking cock, you pretty little bitch.”
Alex moans and his head slams up against the window. He braces himself on his hand, leaving a sweaty mark on the clean class. “Brendon,” he gasps.
“Yeah, baby. Take that cock.” He thrusts in harder. “You love a big fat dick up your ass, don't you baby?”
Alex's fingers curl ineffectually against the glass.
“Say yes,” Brendon growls. “Say you love my cock.”
“Love your cock. Love your cock,” Alex chants. He arches up and streaks come across the interior window.
Brendon lifts up and pulls on Alex until his back is pressed up against Brendon's chest. “Gonna come in your ass. You want that, baby?”
“Yes,” Alex says weakly. “Do it.”
Brendon twists Alex's nipple and fills the condom with a groan. When his orgasm stops, he places wet kisses along Alex's neck. “Hey,” he says softly, pulling at Alex's softening cock.
“Don't,” Alex breathes. “Too sensitive.”
Brendon chuckles. “That was awesome. You're so fucking tight. And responsive. Jesus. We need to do this again.”
Alex falls forward a little bit when Brendon lets him go. “It's gonna, just a second,” he warns before grasping the base of his cock and pulling out. He flicks the condom off his cock and under the driver's seat. “Dude, I want to see Ryan's face later.”
Alex laughs weakly. “We should clean this up.”
“Nuh uh,” Brendon says. “I'm getting Ross back. Don't worry about it.”
Alex rolls slightly so that he can lay on his back and look at Brendon. Brendon leans down and kisses him gently. “You've got your show in 20. You should get dressed.”
“Yeah, sure.” He reaches up and runs a hand through Brendon's sweaty hair. “Do, you, uh? My clothes?”
“I think your shoes and socks are outside, unless someone took them. Dude, we should have cracked a window open or something. Though it's nice and sex smelling in here.” He glances at the window. “That's a fucking awesome come shot. Did you aim or did that just happen?”
“Just happened,” Alex says, reaching for his pants.
“Those are mine,” Brendon says, pulling the pants away from Alex. He grabs another pair from the driver's seat. “These are yours.” He pushes the door open, letting the cold air hit their naked skin. “It would have sucked if there were people out here.” He looks around. “We're clear. Be easier to get dressed out here.”
Alex nods.
…
“You OK?” Cash asks after the set. “You were moving a little sluggish out there.”
Alex shrugs. “Yeah. Just a little sore. Sex in the backseat of a car isn't as pleasant as you would think. Hot as fuck, I came like a freight train, but still, awkward.”
Cash drops the bottle of water he'd been holding. “Say what? Who was she?”
“He,” Alex says with a smile. “I just totally got fucked by Brendon Urie in the backseat of Ryan's car!”
Cash resists the urge to upchuck onto Alex's hightops. There's still bile in his throat and he can feel his face flushing red. He loves Brendon, he does. He also knows Brendon believes in fucking anything with a pulse, as long as it's not with an animal or a child. Cash is sure that Brendon didn't know that Alex hadn't done it with a guy before, and he's pretty sure that he never even said Alex's name. He and Brendon had talked about it once before, how Brendon had just started calling all his partners 'baby' so he didn't have to worry about saying the wrong name during sex.
“So how was it?” Cash asks tightly. “Didn't know you'd fully embraced the gay.”
“It was time. Dude, it hurt like a fucking bitch. I don't think he took enough time.” He stops and blushes. “Dude, sorry if I'm gay-ing you out.”
“Did he hurt you?” Cash grabs Alex by the shoulders. “Did he fucking hurt you? Are you bleeding?”
“I don't. I don't think so. Cash, are you OK?”
“Let me see.”
“Huh?”
“I need to check you out. Brendon can be...” he searches for the right word. “Overenthusiastic.”
“You fucked him then?” Alex asks, stepping back. “Did you?”
“No.” And it's the honest truth. He never once fucked Brendon. Brendon'd tried, but Cash didn't want to, on the off chance that he got with Alex one day, Cash didn't want to have to explain away indiscretions with labelmates. “I've just. He told me things, OK? And you were moving really rough during the show, and you said it hurt. Just let me check you out.”
Alex bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says. “But, um.”
“Bathroom,” Cash says, pulling him down the hall. He flips the lock behind them. “OK, bend over the sink and pull down your pants.”
Alex unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his knees. “Don't tell anyone about this,” he whispers.
“Of course not.” Cash's throat is dry. He can still see the marks of Brendon's hands on Alex's ass and the start of bruises on his narrow hips. “He used lube, right?”
“And a condom. I'm not dumb.” Alex bends slightly. “Ow.”
Cash reaches around him and turns on the tap. “Water should work then, rehydrate the lube.” He pauses. “Hold on, I should wash my hands first.” He soaps up and rinses them clean, letting the water warm up so Alex will be more comfortable. He slides back around Alex. “OK, you're going to feel some pressure.”
Alex laughs. “I had a dick up there earlier, I think I know what it's like to have something up there.”
Cash's toes curl in anger, but his hand is steady as he slips it between Alex's cheeks. It feels OK, swollen, but nothing seems damaged. He wriggles his finger around a bit, glad to find that if nothing else, Alex is well lubed.
Alex hisses. “Sore.”
“I know.” Cash pulls his finger out and breaths out a sigh of relief when it comes out without any blood. “You're OK. Lemme wash my hands again.”
Alex moves back and pulls his pants up again. “Thanks, Cash. You're a really good friend.”
Yeah, Cash is a really good friend, in love with his best friend, and on a new mission to kill his hero.
…
“I can't believe you,” Cash snarls the second he's got Brendon alone in the practice room. “I can't believe you fucking did that.”
“Did what?” Brendon asks nonchalantly as he picks up his guitar.
“You know what I'm talking about, asshole.” Cash's hands ball into fists.
“I really don't, Cash.”
“Singer.”
Brendon's head snaps up. “What about him?”
“You fucked him. In the back of Ryan's car. As some sort of bet, or something, I'm sure.”
Brendon blinks at him. “Dude, it wasn't like that. I was getting Ross back for the time he.”
Cash lunges at him before he can finish. “You fucking asshole. He'd never done that before.” He shoves Brendon into the wall. “You ruined him. It was his first time, and you just fucking used him and ruined him!” He slams his fists into Brendon's shoulder. It's sort of the last straw. His emotional camel has been taking on baggage for too many years. “You fucking ruined him for me!”
Brendon grabs at Cash's fists. “What the hell, dude? This isn't even your business.” He pushes Cash back and off of him.
Cash falls to the floor, shaking. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I was going to. There was. We were.” He thinks about all the things he was going to do for Alex, to make that first time special. The candles, the flowers, all that girly shit that he knew Alex would love. “You ruined him,” he says again. He's not even sure what that means, but it's just what he feels. Alex is somehow tainted, and Brendon did it.
Brendon leans against the wall to catch his breath. “Dude, I didn't know. Hand to whatever deity you want, I would have never touched him if I knew.”
Cash wipes at his eyes again. He's not crying. But he's just sort of making sure that he doesn't because he feels a full blown brain snap building up in his blood. “Whatever. You don't even care about him.”
“I didn't know,” Brendon says softly. “I didn't know.” He leans down next to Cash. “I thought, he never said.” He stands up straight again and puts his hands in his hair. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“You have to tell him,” Brendon says. “He doesn't know. Not at all.”
“Like you took the time to figure it out.”
“No, it's just that I'm not.” He stops and looks at Cash. “Don't shoot the messenger on this one, but I'm not the first guy that he's.”
Cash shoots him an angry stare. He knows that Brendon was Alex's first time, and if Brendon tries to back out of that now, Cash is going to kill him.
“I was the first that went that far, OK? I know that now. But he. He's been with guys. Other ways,” Brendon says delicately.
The room starts to spin. “I've missed my chance.”
“No,” Brendon says. “OK, maybe to be the first. But not to be the last. You've got to do something though. He's not going to just wait around for something he doesn't even know is a possibility.”
Cash nods, licking at his dry lips. “I have to go.”
“Yeah,” Brendon replies. “You know your way out.”
Cash turns and punches Brendon in the face. “That's for making me have to check him to make sure he wasn't bleeding.”
Brendon winces and puts his hand to his bloody nose. “Yeah, I had that one coming. Shit.”
“Sorry,” Cash says.
“Me too.”
…
Alex is curled up into a tight little ball on his bed when Cash finds him. “Singer,” Cash says, pushing the door open. “I went home and you weren't there. And then I came here and your mom said you were up here and that I could just come in. Are you OK?”
Alex sniffles. “I let Brendon fuck me.”
Cash rolls his eyes, only because he knows Alex can't see him. “I know, you told me.”
“No, I mean, I let him just fuck me. I don't mean anything to him.”
Cash stretches his hand out, looking at the newly formed bruise on his knuckles. Normally, he would say something cutting, try to laugh it off. But he can't. He stares at the Justin Timberlake poster on the wall, and sort of smiles at the way that Alex's mom has kept the room as sort of a shrine. Most of Alex's stuff is gone now, residing at their apartment, but there's enough of Alex still at his parents house. He takes a deep breath. “I know. I should have warned you. I should have protected you.”
Cash can hear Alex crying, softly, and Cash knows he's trying to hide it. “Alex,” Cash says. “Alex, scoot over.”
“Go away,” Alex sniffles.
“No. Not happening.” Cash lays down on the bed and Alex makes room for him. “You get to be the little spoon. You like being the little spoon, right?”
Alex laughs. “Stop being so nice.”
“Nope.” He pushes the blankets away from Alex's face. “Hey, it's going to be OK.” He stares at Alex for a long time and then leans down, kissing him lightly.
He's surprised when Alex shoves at him with enough force to knock him off the bed. “Alex?”
“What are you doing? You think I'm easy now or something?” Alex's face glistens bright with tears. “Please go.”
“I don't think. Nothing. It's not like that, Alex.”
“Go away!”
“Boys?” Alex's mom's voice drifts up the stairs. “Is everything OK?”
“Yes, Mrs. DeLeon. I'm actually going.” He looks at Alex. “I messed this up, but I'll fix it. I'm a fixer.”
He heads down the stairs and ignores Alex calling after him.
…
Fixing it for Cash apparently means getting shitfaced drunk with Spencer. “I didn't know, did you know?” Cash slurs.
Spencer blinks at him. “Dude, you just started talking right now. All those other thoughts that you were having? All in your head, dude.”
Cash swallows down the rest of his vodka. “Huh? So you didn't hear all the stuff about Singer's epic dick sucking?”
Spencer shakes his head slowly. “No, I didn't. I mean, I heard about it. I think I saw it once, but you weren't talking until you asked if I knew or not.”
“You knew?” Cash asks. “Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“I don't think we knew it was something we should be telling you.” He pulls Cash's drink away from him. “Will making you stop drinking now keep you from vomiting later?”
“Probably not.”
“OK then.” Spencer pours him another drink. “So, you're mad that Singer's going with other boys.”
“Make it sound more like you're about to break into a musical number, please.”
Spencer rolls his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?”
“He let Brendon fuck him.”
Spencer closes his eyes and rubs at his temples. “Does it have anything to do with Brendon having two black eyes?”
Cash blinks. “I only punched him once.”
“And so did Ryan. OK, mystery one solved. I'm guessing it has to do with what happened to Ryan's car. Anyway. You're in love with Singer.”
“I wouldn't say in love.”
Spencer huffs out a breath. “Either admit it right now or I'm not going to help you.”
“Love him. Yes. Kissed him. Yes.”
“And how'd that go?”
“He kicked me out.”
“Oh,” Spencer says, fiddling with his glass. “That doesn't bode well for your cause.”
“He was sort of crying over the fact that he let Brendon fuck him at the time.”
“I'm going to need so much therapy.”
Cash moans pitifully. “He's never going to love me back, is he? I thought I did everything right. We have the band, he's with me all the time, but he's not with me.”
“Making a move on your crying best friend, especially when he's crying over another guy, is sort of a douchebag move. What happened when he kicked you out?”
“I told him I would fix it, then fled like I stole something even though he was yelling for me to come back. Oh, and maybe I also brushed off his mom.”
“Wow. I.” Spencer downs his drink in one long gulp. “Why do you hate me?”
“What?”
“Why didn't you just come to me before you Cash Money-ed all over it?”
“Spencer, come on, you're my go to guy. Because of you I got to keep him the first time.”
“What?”
“You took our demo,” Cash says. “You got us signed. If you didn't then Singer would have gone to college and I would have ended up working at some car wash or something and he would have forgotten all about me.”
“He would never, ever forget about you. I think that you need to realize that. With or without this record deal.” He stops. “OK, now that the room has stopped spinning, I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“You ever think about telling Singer all these things?”
“I. You can't just tell someone that.”
“You just told me.”
“Yeah,” Cash says softly. “OK, well now I'm going to go puke for a while and then pass out on your bathroom floor. See you in the morning?”
“I'll be here. On this couch, because the room is spinning again.”
…
Cash wakes up with Spencer's dog licking at his face and the worst hangover of his life. “Go 'way,” he slurs. “Stop licking me.”
“Boba, out.” The dog scampers away and Cash tries to rub the slobber off his face with the back of his hand. “Here,” the voice says, handing Cash a water bottle. It's not Spencer. Cash knows that. Actually, it sounds a little like Alex.
“Now I'm having hallucinations. I want him so bad that I think he's here right now.” He rolls over and moans into the bathroom rug.
“Cash.” The voice is more insistent and it definitely belongs to Alex DeLeon.
“Alex?”
“Yeah.” Alex squats down on the floor. “How's the hangover?”
“I don't know what's worse, the hangover or life.”
“Both can be fixed, I think.”
Cash rolls over and looks at Alex. “So, I'm in love with you.”
Alex makes a face. “God, your breath is really, really bad.”
“Wow, I tell you I love you, and you tell me that I smell bad.”
“Yeah, at least get some mouth wash. Jesus, were you and Spencer drinking turpentine last night?”
“Vodka.” He pushes himself off the floor and resists the urge to dry heave. “Sorry I kissed you.”
“Mouthwash. Right now,” Alex says, thrusting the bottle at him.
Cash opens the top and takes a swig. He counts to 60 in his head, because he knows that Alex is counting too. He spits. “OK, what?” He's cut off with the press of Alex's lips to his, hips pressing against his own.
Alex breaks away. “How come you didn't just tell me? I asked you to the dance forever ago, you said no.”
“I thought you just wanted to go as friends! I couldn't do that. OK, ow, light is bright.” Cash shields his eyes.
Alex blinks. “OK, so I was just maybe guessing that this thing went back to high school, and now you've just gone and proved that, and wow, that's kind of a lot of pressure to put on a guy.”
Cash rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Reason 1,012 that I haven't told you. It's. There's been so many times, but you kept. I didn't think that you liked guys. And I tried to think that maybe I liked guys and was focusing on you because of that, but yeah, it was like senior year that I realized it was a very you-specific situation.”
“Me too,” Alex says softly. “You know. With the whole you specific thing. I wasn't sure until. Like, I don't know, maybe 30 seconds ago, but it all makes sense. I think.”
Cash winces when he tries to put logic into the conversation. “Never drinking again.”
Alex kisses his temple. “You always say that.”
“I think I really mean it this time. Why are you here, anyway?”
Alex blinks at him. “I figured that the other day, you know, in my room? When you kissed me? I think I jumped the gun. And you left, and you wouldn't come back. We just talked about it before you said you're never drinking again. It was like 10 seconds ago.”
“No,” Cash says, cutting him off. “I mean, how did you know I was here?”
“Oh, Spencer called me. Said you were being a douche and that you were passed out on his bathroom floor. Which, actually, I wasn't surprised about, because last night, Brendon came over to the apartment and said that he was an epic asshat, and that you punched him in the face. Also, that I should talk to you, but he couldn't say why.”
“I sort of defended your virtue. Felt like it was the friendly thing to do.” He shrugs when Alex stares at him. “Also, there might have been a jealousy factor, but whatever.” Cash pulls on the end of one of Alex's strands of hair. “So, this whole me being in love with you thing?”
“I think,” Alex says softly. “I think I feel the same way.”
“You think?”
“Tell me something. Tell me anything to make me, I don't know.”
Cash smiles. “You always need something tangible, don't you?” He leans against the counter and spreads his legs so that Alex can slip between them. “You want to know something like I love the way you smack your lips in your sleep, or that when you're nervous, and singing, you squeak. And you try to hide it by pretending you're trying out a new high note. Even though you're right handed, you're left hand is the one that doesn't stop moving when you're excited.” He moves in and rubs his nose against Alex's and Alex smiles. “I knew you'd be a sucker for eskimo kisses.”
“I think you just removed that think.”
“Yeah, I did.”