Magcon BoyxBoy

Instagram // Cash

cameron
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Scroll, scroll, scroll.

It's not like there was really much to do in the apartment, so I was on Instagram while Nash picked us up egg rolls and rice and stuff for somewhat of a dinner with Bryant after their photo shoot. However, I wasn't on my known Instagram account; I was logged into my fan account.

A fan account? What? Yeah, well. For the last few months I'd spent more time on my Cash account than my personal, but no one knew I was an account for myself. I'd let people know I was a boy named Cameron, but no one suspected anything at all, and it was perfect. No one knew, I kept my pleasure to myself, and Nash didn't know I was crushing on him. It honestly couldn't get much better.

Well, if he liked me too, then yeah, I could die a fully happy man, but I was okay.

A few of these posts were reposts of Bryant's photo that he and Nash were having a photo shoot today, but a couple weren't. Some of them were random posts and edits of myself, and occasionally I came across video edits. However, one caught my eye.

It was the kind where an account says "Like my last three posts and reveal your sentence!" It was dumb, and it was cheesy, but I loved them. It made me laugh when I'd get Carter or Hayes or someone, because as much as people wanted to believe otherwise, they were straighter than y = x. And it was the weirdest when I got myself, because no, I can't fist myself at the movie theaters.

But wow, when I got Nash, as awful as it sounds, I jumped around like I was a 14-year-old girl who just got VIP tickets to see her favorite performer live. But I'm 20, I'm into Nash, and I want him to bend over the table.

The first post number was for the guy, the second one was for the action, and the third was the location. I tapped on the person's profile, went three posts back, and double-tapped on the three before this post.

6-6-9.

Okay, six is Nash. I was already on the verge of throwing my phone in excitement, and it felt so foolish I wanted to stab my leg.

Another six, which is...fucked me. Um, okay, wow; I always get murdered. But oh my god, I think I'd rather bottom than top now.

And nine, which is "because he was drunk". You know, that'd be okay. If I got to be with him then fine, let him drink. I wouldn't be too happy about it in reality, but I'd still love him.

I commented my answer, and right as it sent it, I heard the door unlock. Probably Nash and Bryant.

"Cameron, come help me!" Bryant yelled urgently, sounding stressed. I pressed the lock button and dropped my phone on the coffee table, running to go help Bryant with whatever it was. When I got to the door, I found Bryant struggling to close the door behind him, as he was supporting a drunken Nash.

"What the hell happened to him?" I said worriedly, wrapping one of Nash's arms over my shoulder to support him.

"I don't know," Bryant panted. "One moment he was sitting next to me as I wrapped up my stuff, and the next he was gone. It took me forever to find him, but he was at some bar slumped over the counter. I have no idea what got into him."

"Help me bring him to his room," I said, tugging Nash along. Bryant helped me lie him down on his bed and then we both stopped a caught our breath. After all, Nash's room was upstairs, not to mention that he weighed a ton more when he was limp.

"I think I'm gonna run out and grab him some Advil and then food for us. Give me at least thirty," Bryant said after a moment before walking out.

"Stay awake, Nash, okay? I'm gonna grab you some water and a bucket." He murmured something back, and I left for a moment. When I came back, however, he had his face in the pillow. I set down the water and bucket, pushing Nash over so he was on his back.