Friends (Cam Request)

A friend of mine requested a Cam snippet so Leo here ya go~ (If anyone else wants to request a specific snippet feel free to ask.)

No matter how hard you try, you can’t recall a time when Cam was so stressed he forgot to say good morning or goodbye. It’s not like him, and that’s probably what drove you to order a ride and head to the studio at 10 o’clock at night. That, and the magazines scattered across the kitchen island.

Each headline strips away his accomplishments, reducing him to nothing more to his family’s name. Years of hard work dismissed like it’s worth nothing. As if his parents had anything to do with his success, if anything that name held him back.

The heat of the studio lights beat against your face as you open the doors, ignoring the look people send you as they flit about, your eyes trying to pinpoint that all too familiar shade of copper.

Cam rakes his hand through his hair, fingers tugging at the strands. The frustration evident in the way he scrunches his nose and furrows his brow. Yet when he spots you, you can see his expression soften almost instantly as he gives you a toothy grin. That's all it takes to give you the confidence to walk up to him in a room full of people.

He attempts to say something, probably make a quip about missing him. But his words get caught in his throat as you place a hand along the back of his neck and press your foreheads together.

“What are you doing?" His voice is a faint whisper, lost in the cacophony of sounds of the studio.

Your hands press against the sides of his face, trailing along his jaw, taking in the slight stubble beginning to show as you cup his face between your hands.

The tension in his muscles loosens almost immediately as his body leans against yours. "Don't pay attention to anything but the sound of my voice."

He nods as one of his hands finds purchase on your lower back, his fingers pressing softly along your spine. "You know me better than that Red. Any room you're in, and you're all I can pay attention to."

"Cam."

He huffs a laugh, the smell of peppermint on his breath filling your senses. "Sorry." He's not.

"You're doing amazing. Those magazines don't know you like I do. They don't know what you've been through and accomplished." His hands tighten along your shirt, the feel of his fingers pressing into your sides as he takes in your words.

"They don't know you here," you allow one of your hands to fall from his cheek to rest on his chest, his heart beating rapidly against your palm. "Like I do." You open your eyes, only to find his already latched onto you.

The ghost of a blush on his cheeks contrasted against the freckles that fan his face. His mismatched eyes are wide as his nickname for you falls from his mouth. "Red."

Taking his hand, you place it on your chest, allowing him to feel your heart race. He gulps, his hand shaking in your own as one of his fingers grazes against bare skin not covered by your shirt.

Fanning his fingers out, he traces a slow path along your collarbone. "You really know me, don't you?" There's a weight to his gaze, to his words. He's searching for something, asking you a question that could change everything.

Before you can think of what he said, your go-to reply falls from your lips. "Of course, you're my best friend." , that’s what he is to you, and yet so much more.

Cam chuckles, a hollow sound, laced with something deeper. The laugh caught in his throat, pain tangling itself within the sound. He let it fade quickly as his hand slid along your neck, pulling you softly forward to place a whisper of a kiss along your forehead. "Friends, huh?"

You arch your head to look at him, "What?"

Cam gives you a soft, albeit defeated, smile. With a shake of his head, he pulls away and heads back towards his camera. "Don't worry about it. Thanks for the encouragement."

He can hide many things when he wants, but you can't miss the look of hurt in his eyes. The look that matched the feeling in your gut when you felt his touch leave you, the warmth of his body vanishing with him.

A feeling pulls at you, to hold on for longer and not let him go. So, you don't, as you hurriedly walk forward to grab the back of his shirt. Your hands snake around his waist and your head rests against his back. "Don't go."

He doesn't respond immediately, allowing his fingers to intertwine with your own. There’s a moment of stillness. So many words left unspoken but causing the air to grow heavy.Then, he presses a soft kiss to your palm. It lingers for a moment, and then he whispers with a low voice, "You're the one thing I can't walk away from."