Put Your Flowers Down

Sunday mornings are usually pretty boring. Jack likes to sleep as late as possible on any day, and on Sundays it's even worse, since it's not often he actually has somewhere to go.

Alex is the same way, except sometimes he actually feels guilty about trying to tune out the world for a day, so he usually checks his emails pretty early, sitting up in bed with his laptop and a truly offensive pair of black frame glasses that Jack constantly makes fun of- but if pressed, will probably admit that he thinks Alex looks really hot in. They work with his eyebrows, okay? But that's besides the point.

The point is, Sunday mornings are boring. And quiet. And generally uneventful. So that's why Jack is a little surprised when Alex starts shaking his shoulder and generally disturbing the lazy Sunday he's come to love.

He manages his best glare through sleep-squinty eyes. "What?"

"ATL management's trying to pimp us out for charity," Alex whines. "I don't want to be bought out by a fourteen year old girl, Jack. Or a cougar."

Jack blinks. "What."

"I know," Alex moans, apparently misinterpreting Jack's what as something akin to disbelief. Jack thinks the what was supposed to be more of a blind lack of understanding.

"What," he repeats.

"Management wants to hold a bachelor auction for us and a few other bands to raise money for charity," Alex explains, and, oh, okay, fine, Jack gets that. "I'd love to help out autism research, really, I would, but there's surely got to be a better way than shoving us into suits and having people bet on us, really, this is basically legalized prostitution-"

"I think you're overreacting," Jack says, too tired to deal with this.

"Maybe, but, tell me you're not completely okay with this, please, I don't want to be the crazy one here," Alex says- pleads, really- and Jack sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He really can't say no to Alex when he puts on the puppy dog eyes. They are an unfair evolutionary advantage.

"You're not crazy," Jack says slowly, nuzzling his face into his pillow, his voice still rough with sleep. "It's pretty elementary school. Didn't they have one of those on Seinfeld?"

"I dunno, maybe," Alex says, pulling a hand through his hair. He looks near comically annoyed. Jack doesn't say anything.

--

When Jack finally gets out of bed and checks his phone, he has two new text messages from overnight- both from Flyzik.

The first reads, Tell Alex to stop whining because he has to do it.

The second reads, I hope he hasn't got you whining too, because between the two of you whining together, I will get stomach ulcers.

--

The thing about the bachelor auction is that Alex really, really doesn't want to do it. It's nothing to do with the getting up on stage while Flyzik tells stupid facts about Alex that make him seem personable or something, and it's certainly nothing to do with the whole raising money for charity thing- he's actually pretty excited about that aspect.

No, it's not the auction itself. It's just the idea of having to spend the night on a date making small talk with some apparently rich woman, who is (by no fault of her own) not Jack.

That's not to say Alex is possessive or clingy or anything- really, he's anything but. Him and Jack just aren't like that. But still, it's odd to think of himself on a date with someone that's not Jack. Mostly by default of them dating since they were nineteen, but, whatever. It's just weird, okay?

But Alex is nothing if not resourceful, so he has a plan. And that's how he ends up on the phone with Keller.

"I'm sort of dating Zack, though, doesn't it make sense I'd bet on him?"

Alex gives her his most exaggerated sigh, making sure she knows the direness of the situation. Is direness a word? Whatever, logistics. "You in particular don't have to bet on me. You could get one of your cool model friends to bet on me. Just tell them no limit, and I'll pay, and I wont have to go on any miserable dinner dates."

"No limit? How much do you think you're worth, exactly?" Keller asks, and Alex imagines if she was there in person she'd be making the face she makes when Jack tries to be romantic- which is, trying not to laugh.

Alex likes Keller infinitely more than he did when he first met her in college, but he still kind of hates her sometimes. Because she is evil. "So not the point," he whines.

"Okay, drama queen, quit it with the hysterics. You know, I don't have to help you. I could hang up right now, right after telling you to gr-"

"If you tell me to grow a pair right now I swear to god I will actually kill myself," Alex warns.

Keller snorts. "You're such a little bitch. You're the littlest bitch of them all. I could write a children's book about you. 'The Littlest Bitch', by Keller Maitland. I see a new classic."

"That doesn't even make sense, children's books don't call people bitches," Alex frowns.

"I'm trying to improve tolerance of language. What makes a word a 'bad word', anyway? Let's transcend the societal expectations-"

"You sound like Jack in sophomore year and I'd really rather not relive that, thanks."

"Why not? It got you laid in the end," Keller says, and Alex can almost see her smirk through the phone.

He flops back onto his bed, sighing as exaggeratedly as he possibly can through the phone. "Can you just do this for me? Seriously."

"Fine," Keller says, but she doesn't sound put-out about it. She was probably going to do it all along, Alex thinks, but she just wanted to make him suffer for it. That sounds unbelievably like her. And unbelievably like Zack. Which makes sense, they're practically the same person. Alex doesn't know if that makes them good for each other or not. "I'll get Patience to bet on you."

"Thank you," Alex says, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Seriously, thank you."

"No problem," Keller says. "While it'd be a lot more entertaining to watch a bunch of rich chicks fight over you while you shake like a leaf onstage, I'm actually a good friend."

--

They're all in some near empty bar in Federal Hill one day, eating the pizza they picked up from one of the places they used to constantly hit up in college when they came into the city, when, inevitably, Rian brings up the bachelor auction.

"So," he says. "We're getting auctioned off in a month."

"Yup," Jack says over the top of his sickeningly sweet vodka drink, popping the p.

Zack nods. "I bet I go for the most bank out there."

"Of course," Keller grins, "because I'm bidding, and I'm gonna bid the most."

Zack smiles at her, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and kissing the top of her head while Jack flicks the wrapper of his straw at them. "Gross, PDA," he says. Keller sticks her tongue out at him.

"Can it even work like that? Like, shouldn't Keller be disqualified or something? People know you're dating, you're not that subtle, and I mean, at all," Alex points out, frowning into his rum and coke. Everyone seems to ignore him.

"I think Alex'll lose, though, because Patience is bidding, and she's too scary to try and argue with," Jack adds. Everyone else nods in agreement.

Alex just groans, dropping his head into his hands. It's not even a game, there's no winner. The only winner will be the person that manages to get out of the whole thing. Technically, though, he can use this to his advantage, and add 'is driving band against each other in ravenous competition' to the list of Reasons Why This Auction is a Horrible Idea that he's going to send to Flyzik. It may be a slight exaggeration, but Flyzik doesn't have to know that.