Listen To Iron Maiden Maybe With Me

"Text me the address. Meet you there after practice." Cash shoved his hands into his pockets, winked, and walked on out of the classroom as though they had just been speaking about science notes.

Angel paced around his living room. Why the fuck had he done? Why had he said his house?!

His parents were, luckily for him, out on a date and so they would be home alone, but this had very nearly been a giant disaster.

Cash would be here any second and he had to pull himself together and act like the confident man he certainly wasn't.

Cash rang the doorbell, his hair still wet from his shower. He had run here straight after practice. He hoped he smelled okay--he had done his best to scrub away all the sweat, adding a few swipes of deodorant and a spritz of Aqua di Gio for good measure.

Angel took a deep breath and after a shaky exhale he opened the door.

"Hey," He said, smiling softly. Then he noticed Cash's hair, and he still smelled of shampoo and body wash and cologne. "C...come in. We can head to my room, it's upstairs."

"Came as fast as I could," he admitted sheepishly, taking his shoes off inside. "I showered after practice, though I dunno if it even helped--think I worked up a sweat walking here anyway."

He bowed jokingly. "Lead the way, man."

"No, you...smell good," He said and then quickly turned and escaped up the stairs. He opened the door to his room, where some death metal played in the background. The walls were black but barely visible beneath the tons of posters plastered everywhere from a dozen different bands. It was shockingly clean, neat and organized, even with the huge amount of CDs and albums displayed on shelves everywhere.

He closed and locked the door behind them, despite how unnecessary it was.

"Well, here we are..." He said a bit sheepishly.

Cash looked around, shivers of excitement running up and down his spine. He'd be lying if he said he'd pictured Angel's room looking much different.

He sat down on the bed, dropping his backpack to the floor.

"What do you want to do to me this time?"

Angel paced around in his room, trying not to look nervous but he knew he did.

"Uhm, let me just...think," he said, glancing at Cash on his bed. He looked completely out of place in his room. Not because he was a jock in a metalhead's room, but because he was anyone other than Angel in his room period.

Angel finally sat down in the chair across from his bed at his desk, facing Cash.

"W...would you, uhm...the thing is," he said, staring at a poster of Lars Ragnar's face just above Cash's head. "I kind of...want to...like...take...pictures....you know?"

Cash's heart skipped a beat.

"Pictures of what?" he asked eagerly, tossing off his jacket. Underneath he wore only a tight grey undershirt. The fabric strained whenever he moved his arms.

"Do you need a profile picture of me, too?" he asked, innocently fluttering his lashes. If it wasn't what he was hoping, he didn't want to give himself away.

God Cash was hot and he only realized it more and more every time he saw him. It was going to be a problem, he could tell.

"Uh, well, I mean, sure, but I actually meant, like...of...other things, you know," He said, coughing nervously afterward.

"You wanna explain? I'm new to this kind of relationship." He leaned back on his elbows, glancing around the room. It was far neater than his; though the walls were cluttered, he could see the floor.

"Well, I just, uhh, of, you know. Us." He laughed nervously. "It's, uh, I'm into, you know...that."

He wasn't, almost at all, but he needed that evidence.

"Oh," he said, smiling. "Well, I guess I could. That the kinda proof you were talking about? Of me being 'devoted,' or whatever word you used?" He tugged his shirt down absent-mindedly; while he had stretched it had slid upward, revealing the strawberry blond trail that led to his belly button.

"Sure," He said, a bit sad to see Cash pull his shirt down. "I mean, yeah, that's
..what I meant, mmhm."

He grabbed one of his action figures from his desk and toyed with it.

"Well, if you want to take photos, you should tell me how to pose, right?" He flexed his arms, obviously enjoying the look on Angel's face.

"I...yeah I guess, uh," He said, more hastily than he should shoving his figure of Loki back onto his desk. "Maybe...you should take off your shirt first, though."

He smiled and tried to look innocent but he couldn't quite make it work. Despite his best intentions, he really wanted Cash to take his shirt off.

He did as requested, throwing it on the floor. A few stray water drops trailed down his shoulders from his hair, slowly rolling their way down his chest.

"What now? You're the director, so I'll follow your lead, right?"

"Y...yeah," He said, swallowing hard. This still felt too good to be true, like any moment Cash really would change his mind about being pushed around and make him pay for humiliating him. But, if this was really what he was into, then... he was going to take advantage of it for all his could. "So...this is kind of...off topic, but, what have you done before, you know. Sex wise?"

He blinked for a moment, caught off guard.

"Oh. You know, nothing crazy. Handjobs, blowjobs...not good blowjobs, but blowjobs. Finger-banged a couple girls. Why?"

Angel shifted in his chair.

"Well, cause, you know....I was kind of thinking you could, welll..." He said, smiling sheepishly.

He chuckled and raised a brow.

"What, you want me to finger-bang you?"

"N...no!" He exclaimed, looking as horrified as he felt. "I meant! A..blowjob, not....augh."

"Oh." He sized up Angel with his eyes, chewing on his lip. "Huh. Never tried before."

The silence stretched between them for what felt like an hour but was more like minutes. Finally, Cash approached Angel's chair. Slowly, deliberately, he toyed with a lock of his long hair, then let his hands wander down his chest. He lowered his body with his hands, until he was on his knees and unbuttoning Angel's pants.

Angel could hardly believe it was happening, but he was slowly beginning to get over that feeling more and more as Cash really did pretty much whatever he wanted.

He wasn't entirely sure what to do with his hands so he rested them gently on Cash's shoulders, which he found just as firm as the rest of his body.

Cash didn't even look at Angel's face when he touched him, so engrossed was he in his task. Though it was strange to admit it, this setting and activity were as equally intriguing in as they were new. He pulled Angel's jeans down without much ceremony, finally revealing the bulge in his black trunks.

He paused, almost forgetting to breathe--what now? The longer he stared, the thicker the air grew with awkwardness. He gathered his courage and touched it with his palm, carefully moving his hand up and down over the fabric.