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<p>Cash played Quidditch. He flew around on broomsticks at neck-breaking speeds and leaned out in what some would consider irresponsible stunts in order to catch an impossibly small, hard to see little ball. He did this on an almost nightly basis, with fairly minimal trips to the hospital wing. Cash was coordinated. Cash did not flop around like he was drunk. Cash did not fall off of things or trip on his own feet. Except that was exactly what he was doing.</p>

<p>Eli had been the only one in the dorm room when Cash arrived back home from his family's house, and he had been very little except staring at his friend since he'd arrived, trying to figure out what was going on, and why his friend was acting so differently. It wasn't just his movements that were discombobulated; Eli was having trouble following his thoughts, too; he wasn't sure whether the little mystery he'd just been handed was the synopsis of a book Cash had read recently, some random thought he'd had, or perhaps a book he was intending to write--for all Eli knew, Cash could have really been convinced at that moment that some poor woman had been thrown from the eastern tower. </p>

<p>A little warily, Eli glanced up at the ceiling when Cash started talking about the drops of paint. He personally couldn't see much--it just looked like a painted ceiling to him--but he was hesitant to disagree with Cassius when he was in this state of mind. "Yeah, it's awesome," he said, then scooted to the edge of his bed closest to Cash's, looking over an examining his friend. "You okay? Your eyes look kinda red."</p>

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<p>Eli only quirked an eye at the mention of some aunt; Eli had only ever met the relatives that Cash had at Hogwarts, and had heard very little about the rest of them, so he was unsure of the context of the statement--but it didn't sound good. </p>

<p>His eyes widened as Cash got up off his bed, and instinctively jumped to his feet as well. His alarm grey as his friend's did, and he found himself following him hurriedly around the room, unsure of what exactly to do or say to help his friend--his insinct was to reach out and touch him, to hug him and get him to stop flailing around like that, but he guess that Cash wouldn't appreciate that--not in his current state or, really, ever. </p>

<p>So instead he merely fluttered around Cash like a nervous butterfly, never exactly touching him but always seeming a second away from it, wondering what to do to make Cassius calm down--then, unexpectedly, Cash did it all by himself, flopping down on the floor like a dead fish.</p>

<p>What's wrong with you? You're scaring me! Eli wanted to say, but couldn't, because he was afraid Cash would freak again.</p>

<p>So instead he popped down next to Cash, sitting cross-legged right beside his friend's stomach. "Merlin didn't go to Hogwarts. Hogwarts hadn't been invented yet," he said. Cash knew that. Everyone knew that. But maybe in whatever world Cash was currently living in that was a valid question. </p>

<p>A thought suddenly struck Eli; a very wicked thought. In this state of mind Cash would probably tell him anything. The question is, what did he want to know?</p>

<p>"Cash," he said, to get his attention, even though he still hadn't decided what to ask yet. "I wanna ask you something. In fact," he said, the idea developing further in his head, "Let's play a game--I'll ask you and then you ask me, alright? We'll just ask questions about each other."</p>

<p>He bit his lip, considering what his question would be, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he pondered. "Do you ever--think about girls? You know, like that?" The that in the sentence was obvious--sex.

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<p>Eli was fully ready for disappointment; now that the question had left his lips, he realized how stupid it had been to ask. Why had he set himself up like that for Cash to say something he didn't want to hear? They'd had this conversation before--not really in depth and honestly, but in passing. Girls were something Cash talked about on occasion--hell, they were something Eli talked about on occasion. There was no answer Cash could give that would be better than not knowing.</p>

<p>So he focused instead on the hand that Cash had placed on his stomach, staring at it, memorizing the details of Cash's knuckles. When Cash answered--No, never--his heart started beating so quickly that it was almost hard to hear the second part of his answer. </p>

<P>But that didn't mean anything, he knew. When they were second years, no one had thought of girls like that, and that wasn't indicative, as far as he could tell, of any future behavior. It was entirely possible that Cash simply hadn't thought about those things yet. No need to get any hopes up.</p>

<p>"I dunno, probably Hufflepuff?" he ventured. "Or Gryffindor. Not Slytherin, though. I dunno, I'm happy with Ravenclaw," he said honestly. Slytherin had too many rich kids and too many pureblood kids for his taste, and while he could be happy in either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, he felt he belonged here most.</p>

<p>Turning, Eli laid down on his stomach next to Cash--hoping that if Cash noticed the way their shoulders brushed together briefly he wouldn't remark on it. "My turn!" he said cheerfully, thinking of what to ask next. "Hmmm... What about..." he mused. He couldn't ask anything he really wanted to know for fear of being too obvious, but Cash's answer to the last question had made him bold. </p>

<p>"Who's the person you feel closest to? Like you feel like you can talk to the most?"</p>

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<p>Eli hadn't been expecting that answer, though he couldn't say now what he had been expecting. Maybe Ellory, or maybe one of Cash's MacNair cousins; they seemed much closer than his siblings, anyway. Maybe one of the other boys on the Quidditch team, whom he spent so much time with, or even a favorite teacher. He hadn't been expecting you.</p>

<p>He felt a blush creep into his cheeks as Cash kept talking, rambling on about things Eli hadn't even realized Cash had noticed: the music that he'd never shown any abject appreciation for; the shared dislike of having to chart the stars; their conversations that sometimes seemed like Eli enjoyed them far more than Cash did. Apparently Cash was right there with him, just not as obviously and vocally. It made his stomach flutter and his cheeks burn bright red, and he wished he could undo the blush so as to look less incriminating, but thinking about it only made it worse.</p>

<p>By the end, Eli wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Cash and hold him, and be held. He wanted to wrap up inside of Cash and never have to leave. He wanted to fall asleep arm-in-arm right there on the Common Room floor. He wanted to feel Cash's muscles resting against him, their bodies fitting together so perfectly.</p>

<p>But even in his current state, Cash would probably think that was weird. So instead, Eli merely scooted a half-inch closer to Cash, just enough for their shoulders and arms to be brushing against each other. "Never," he said simply, not looking at Cash, but enjoying the feeling of warmth from their touch, as if his skin was tingling and tickling the entire way down the wall.</p>

<p>He thought a minute before asking his next question. "Do you think--if I wasn't poor and not-pureblood--do you think I'd be able to meet your family? Like... do you think they would like me? And you wouldn't be embarrassed or anything?"</p>

<p>This was not a productive chain of thought; this was purely whistful thinking. If I wasn't poor; if I was pureblooded. Neither of which was going to change, at least not in the near future. But something about the whole spiel Cash had just gone on made that little spark of a dream in his chest grow to something akin to hope, and now he couldn't get the picture out of his head--of actually being able to meet Cash's father, maybe even shake his hand! To have dinner at their house! It was almost unthinkable.</p>

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<p>Eli soaked in Cash's words. Of course, it was nothing he hadn't anticipated or hadn't been expecting; the crux of the matter, of course, was that he was poor and half-blooded, so it didn't matter, because they would hate him just based on that, but it was nice to think that if somehow they had some sort of revelation and decided blood status and wealth didn't matter--(yeah, right)--that there might be some hope that Eli could get along with them. </p>

<p>From what he heard of Seneca, he thought he would like her, but since she was so young--not yet in Hogwarts--he would probably never have a chance to meet her. Cash didn't go out of the way to introduce Eli to family members--in fact, it seemed more logical to assume he went out of his way not to introduce them. </p>

<p>Eli's blush, which hadn't yet dissipated from the last thing Cash had said, only intensified when Cash acknowledge and commented on the fact that their arms were touching. You're tired? We could just fall asleep here, he wanted to say. We could just curl up right next to each other, with our arms touching, and just never move.</p>

<p>Eli wondered if maybe getting Cash intoxicated would help, if he would be more willing to... well, to do things that weren't necessarily things that most friends did with each other. But something about that felt wrong; for one, Cash was definitely some form of intoxicated now, and it didn't make Eli feel much bolder. There was also the fact that if something happened when Cash was too drunk to remember, for instance, it wouldn't be the same as the real thing. Sure, it would feel great--even their arms brushing now felt great--but it would also be empty.</p>

<p>Eli realized that when Cash had commented on his arm, he'd pressed a little tighter up against his friend without even realizing it. Maybe Cash hadn't realized either. Distracted by his question, Eli leaned in to look at Cash's eyes, scrutinizing them, momentarily so caught up in this task that he failed to realize how close he'd gotten to Cash.</p>

<p>Then, suddenly, it hit him like an ocean wave. They were damn close. Especially their eyes, and their faces, and their lips. They were way too close for straight guys who just happened to be best friends. Momentarily paralyzed, Eli took a second or two to recover himself before saying quietly, "N-no. They look better now."</p>

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<p>Eli realized he couldn't breathe. </p>

<p>That should have been a problem, but for the moment he didn't want to breathe, because something about this situation felt fragile--as if exhaling too forcefully might make Cash reel back and the whole intimacy of this, of being so close, would shatter like a piece of cracked glass.</p>

<p>He could stay here, not breathing, forever, he thought.</p>

<p>Then Cash looked away, and started talking, and it was gone, and Eli could breathe again without fear. Somehow, though, he almost thought he preferred the unending terror of possibly breaking the moment, of making a mistake, over this, the certainly that he felt when Cash was turned away and he was just looking at him in profile.</p>

<p>"Not really," he said, unapologetically. "And now you've got two questions on me. So it's my turn," he said, with the feeling that his brain had decided to do something without informing the rest of him what it was. But there was nothing to do about it now except keep going and hope that whatever part of him had decided had some good reasons for doing so. "What do you 'want to'?"</p>

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<p>Eli couldn't have really heard what he thought he'd just heard. Of course it was nigh undecipherable, with Cash saying it as quietly as humanly possible and running all of the words together as he'd done. The only really discernable elements of the little slurred phrase were kuh and oo, which could have been anything--want to ask you, want to kill you, want to sing coo. Of course, none of those really made sense, but then, what Eli had thought he'd heard didn't really make sense, either.</p>

<p>Cash couldn't have just said that, really actually said it. Whistful thinking, he told himself. That was it. Eli had been thinking it and he had projected it onto Cash. He had misheard.</p>

<p>But before he had a chance to ask what he had really said, Cash was out, as suddenly as if someone had extinguished the light of their wand or blown out a candle--poof, no more Cash. His head was down and his mouth was open and his eyes were closed as though he had been asleep like that for an hour. </p>

<p>For a while, Eli just stared at him, his mind still racing. Could it? No. It couldn't be. Not a chance. No way. But what if?</p>

<p>When it became obvious that Cash was not going to reawaken from his sudden coma, Eli begrudgingly scooted away from his friend. He probably ought to get him out of the center of the room, or else the other boys would probably step on him when they came in. Not that Cash would even notice, passed out as he was. </p>

<p>"Why'd you have to pass out then?" he said alloud to his unconscious friend, frustration showing through. But even if Cash couldn't hear him, he couldn't bring himself to ask any of the other questions on his mind. Still frustrated, he shoved Cash over more towards his bed, just so that he wasn't in the center of the room, then pulled his blankets off and threw them over Cash's sleeping figure. </p>

<p>But Cash was just asleep, and Eli couldn't possibly stay mad at him--not while he was unconscious, anyways. He sat down next to Cash with the intent of pushing him under the bed if possible, just to be mean, but caught himself staring at Cash a few minutes instead, watching the little puffs of breathe go in and out. </p>

<p>"Damnit, Cash," he said quietly, though he usually wasn't one for swearing. Taking one hand, he pushed Cash's messy hair back off of his forehead. He was half an impulse from giving the boy a kiss on the forehead, but something told him that was crossing a line--Cash was his best friend, and he was intoxicated, and he was unconscious--he didn't deserve to be able to kiss his forehead.</p>

<p>After another frustrated minute, Eli sighed. "Night, Cassius," he mumbled, tearing his eyes away from Cash long enough to climb into bed. He would deal with this--all of this--later. He couldn't do anything about it now anyway. </p>

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