Disclaimer: Buena Vista owns the Power Rangers. No profit from or disrespect intended to Champions or Motel 6. Much appreciation to Adri for her commentary and her willingness to test the e-mail filter at work!

***

He couldn't do it. He wanted to. Hell, he wanted to do more than just kiss. But he couldn't. Not with Cam looking at him like that.

"What?" he demanded, the word harsh in his throat, forced out past the rushing in his ears. "What's wrong?"

Cam turned his head, dark eyes staring toward the street and he looked ready to bolt. Hunter almost put his hand against the wall on the other side of him, just to keep him there, but nothing would piss Cam off more than being trapped. Which wasn't to say that he wouldn't grab him if he tried to run.

"I'm going back to the hotel," Cam muttered, voice hoarse in the shadows.

He didn't move, and Hunter held perfectly still. "Not without me you aren't," he warned, gaze fixed on Cam's face. He knew how it sounded. There was nothing else he could say.

Cam's answer was stiff and cold. "I don't think that's a good idea."

His fingers were going numb against the wall and he pushed harder, scraping pain into his knuckles as he glared down at Cam. "I didn't start this," Hunter growled. "Don't blame me for reacting to you when you're the poster boy for hot gay sex!"

Fuck. He did not just say that.

Cam's head jerked around, looking startled and cornered and angry all at once. "That was a dance," he spat. His eyes were inches from Hunter's and he might be upset but he wasn't intimidated in the slightest. "I don't sleep with my friends."

"Then maybe you'd better stop dancing with your friends," Hunter snapped, "because that sure felt like an invitation to me!"

God, he just could not keep his mouth shut. What was wrong with him? They had been close before, he had thought like this before, he had felt like this before. But Cam was Cam, and he didn't want Hunter. As long as Hunter was sure of that everything was fine.

"You're the one who wanted to dance," Cam reminded him icily. "You're the one who had to flirt with those girls. And in case you didn't notice, you're the one who dragged me out here!"

He could admire to his heart's content as long as he didn't stare. He could tease about anything he could think of as long as it was only teasing. He could hug and hold and dance... as long as he didn't want. He could pretend to the bar, to the crowd, to the whole world that they were together as long as he didn't expect Cam to actually consider the possibility.

"Don't you dare try to put this on me," Hunter hissed. "I have never, ever made a pass at you before tonight! I wouldn't have done it now if you hadn't done everything but ask for it!"

Cam flinched, twisting his head to glare over Hunter's shoulder, but Hunter refused to back off. Now he expected consideration. Cam had crossed the line. Cam had made him want and then told him to forget it, and that just wasn't going to happen. He couldn't turn it off, couldn't ignore the fact that, for however brief a time, Cam had wanted him back.

Cam shoved away from the wall, pushing past Hunter only to halt two steps away. His back was stiff, arms crossed tight over his chest, and he still clutched his beer bottle in one hand. In any other circumstance, it would have been funny, but tonight it just seemed wrong. Everything about tonight was wrong.

Cam mumbled something, and it took everything Hunter had to stand his ground and not invade the space that Cam obviously wanted. "What?" he demanded irritably.

"I said I'm sorry," Cam snapped, not turning. "All right? I'm sorry."

That was quite possibly the last thing Hunter had expected, and he just stood there, gaping at Cam's back. He almost repeated, "What?" but he managed to stifle the word just in time.

"I wasn't thinking," Cam muttered. The words were barely audible, and again, Hunter had to hold himself back. He knew when not to get in Cam's face--didn't he? Until tonight he had.

"Doesn't matter," he offered at last, feeling that some reply was necessary. He was at a loss when it came to accepting an apology he hadn't actually been looking for. Of course, it did matter, but what was he supposed to do when Cam was all hunched over and miserable looking?

"Yes, it does." The words were strained, and Cam lifted his head to stare at some undefined object on the street. "This was my fault... Not yours."

Hunter shrugged uncomfortably, dismayed by the self-recrimination in Cam's voice. "Maybe you didn't notice," he began carefully, "but... I didn't exactly--object."

Cam didn't answer, and he sighed. "I'm just saying," he mumbled, wishing Cam would at least turn around. A little eye contact would go a long way here. "I'm not totally... against the idea, y'know?"

Cam's shoulders slumped, and he had to be staring at the ground again. "I don't sleep with my friends," he repeated quietly.

Hunter took a deep breath, made sure his voice was even as he replied, "Okay. Right, I get that." He didn't get that, because who else did he trust enough to go to bed with? But Cam obviously meant that he wasn't going to sleep with Hunter, and he would have to respect that or risk losing the person he did everything with.

Almost everything.

Cam turned his head, not quite far enough to make his face visible. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Hunter agreed evenly. How else could it be? "Just like always."

Cam didn't answer.

"So..." Hunter shifted awkwardly, wondering how far to push. "We going back inside, or what?"

He heard Cam sigh, a swift exhalation that could have been the ghost of a laugh or a groan. Turning to face Hunter at last, he shook his head, color washed out by the too-bright lights of the parking lot and his eyes cast in shadow. "I'm going back to the hotel," he said quietly.

Hunter hesitated, then nodded once. "I'm going with you," he declared. Before Cam could object, he added, "You wouldn't send me back in there to face Blake alone, would you? C'mon," he prompted with a smile. "Have a little compassion."

Cam's lips twitched--reluctantly, Hunter thought, but at least his expression had lightened a little. "Fine," he murmured, glancing down at the beer in his hand. With a sigh, he thrust it at Hunter. "Get this away from me, would you? It's starting to look palatable."

Hunter smirked half-heartedly, taking the proffered beer and a final swallow before he deposited both bottles by the wall. "Don't say it," he warned, holding up his finger when Cam opened his mouth. "There are people who get paid to clean this up."

Cam just sighed, clearly not in lecture mode right now. "Give me your keys."

Hunter fished them out of his pocket and handed them over, noting that Cam folded his arms again almost immediately. Even by Cam's standards, it hadn't cooled off that much. Hunter watched him out of the corner of his eye as they made their way toward the truck. The hunched posture didn't completely disguise the lines of his body--

Which Hunter was not looking at. He fixed his gaze on the truck with a sigh, wondering how long it would take to forget the feel of Cam's body grinding against his. He was just guessing, but "a really, really long time" didn't seem to quite cover it. He would definitely have to start dating again.

Cam unlocked the passenger door from the inside, and Hunter grabbed his sweatshirt as he climbed in. He handed it to Cam without a word. Reaching for his seatbelt, he couldn't help noticing that Cam wrapped it around his shoulders instead of actually putting it on. The engine rumbled to life and the truck rolled slowly out of the parking lot, the only sound in the cab that of the blinker as Cam turned onto the street.

They made the trip back in almost complete silence. Hunter amused himself by counting the number of pedestrians dressed more warmly than Cam, which was a surprising number for the middle of August. As they got closer to the hotel, though, he started keeping an eye out for places that served breakfast. The obvious choices were limited by Cam's aversion to fast food, but there were several promising alternatives.

Neither of them said anything as the truck pulled into a space directly under the motel windows, headlights flaring against the building and then fading to nothing as the engine died. Cam didn't move, and there was no telling what thoughts were running through his head. Hunter was still too, staring through the windshield as he considered the situation.

It was late. Admittedly not as late as he had expected, but spending the night in a cheap motel had enough implications without it being Friday night on top of it all. It was also the night before his brother's wedding, which meant that he really ought to be celebrating. But not with Cam, apparently, and if it wasn't with Cam then what was the point?

Finally Cam sighed, put his hand on the door and pushed it open. Hunter debated saying something, but nothing useful sprang to mind. He followed Cam into the building, noting that the front desk was unoccupied but the security camera swiveled to track them across the lobby. He was pretty sure it hadn't moved the last time they came in.

Cam still had Hunter's sweatshirt over his shoulders when he slid his card into the lock, and he braced a foot against the door to hold it while Hunter shuffled into the room. Hunter hit the lightswitch, and Cam caught the door handle after he'd replaced his key to close the door behind them. Hunter couldn't help remembering what Anna Mae had said about chivalry.

Hesitating outside the bathroom door, Hunter watched Cam disappear into the room's shadows to turn on another light. "You want a shower?" he called after him.

"No." Cam's answer came immediately. "I'll take one in the morning."

At least they wouldn't have to fight over who went first. "It's better for your chi to shower at night," Hunter reminded him, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice.

"My 'chi' needs sleep more than it needs a shower," Cam replied, and Hunter grinned.

There were a lot of good things about showers, he decided, as the hot spray soaked into his skin. The pressure, the heat, the abandon... no, he was not going to turn the temperature down just because Cam had gotten to him. He'd be damned if he gave up one of the most relaxing things in the world for someone who couldn't even stomach beer.

Listing all of Cam's bad qualities, of which there were unfortunately few, was not as much fun as he thought it would be, so he decided to stop thinking. Nope, no thinking in this shower. No anything in this shower. Just good, clean fun. With an emphasis on "clean."

He expected the light in the entryway to be on when he finally emerged, towel around his waist and clothes in hand, dampness making his hair go in every direction. He didn't expect the room lights to still be on, too. He paused, listening to the soft strumming that emanated from around the corner. Since when did Cam stay up past his bedtime just to play guitar?

He padded into the room on bare feet, checking out Cam's position on the floor with a quick glance. Cam almost never played on the floor, but he was braced against his bed and hunched over the guitar with the focus he usually reserved for new chord progressions. Hunter shook his head, dropping his clothes next to his duffel bag and pulling out a clean pair of boxers. Tonight might not be a bad night to sleep in a t-shirt too.

So, clad in boxers and a t-shirt, he returned his towel to the bathroom and retrieved his comb from the sink. He tugged at his hair for a minute, wondering what exactly Cam was doing. Or more precisely, what he was planning to do. He was still dressed in his bar clothes, wearing Hunter's sweatshirt and showing no sign of the sleep he had been so eager for before. What would Cam do if Hunter just went over and turned the light out?

Ah, well. He had slept with the lights on before, and if it made Cam feel better then he wasn't going to interrupt. Dropping his comb, he turned away from the mirror and wandered over to his own bed. Cam paused then, and Hunter glanced over in time to see him lifting the guitar off of his knees and setting it on the bed behind him.

"You don't have to do that," he blurted, surprising even himself. "I mean--" He dropped down onto his bed, shrugging a little. "It's fine. It sounds nice."

Cam didn't answer, but he pulled the guitar back into his lap and resumed an idle chord that didn't really seem to be going anywhere. Hunter lay down, staring up at the ceiling, then finally rolled over on his side to watch. It didn't seem totally wrong, since Cam was the only source of activity in the room--but it did surprise him to catch Cam's eye before Cam lowered his head again.

"How come you never learned," Cam said abruptly, quietly, not quite making it a question. He kept his eyes on the guitar, the strings squeaking as he slid his fingers across them.

"Didn't care that much," Hunter answered, surprised into honesty. He realized how that sounded and added hastily, "I mean, I like what we do. But not because of the way it sounds. Just because--"

He stopped, then said slowly, "Just because we do it, together." If he had learned to play, they might have lost that. Not intentionally... but if they didn't have to practice together, then what guarantee was there that they would keep doing it?

Cam nodded once, as though that made perfect sense.

Hunter studied him carefully. That scene outside the bar played in his mind again, and he tried not to think too much about the way it had felt. It was the way Cam had looked that kept bothering him. He was trying, so far without success, to pin that expression down: hungry, yes, wanting, definitely, but something more, too--something that had made him push Hunter away.

No, he told himself firmly. Stop thinking. Cam doesn't want you. That's all you need to know.

It wasn't, though, and he knew it. Because Cam did want him. That much had been made clear to him this evening in a way it never had been before. So why--?

Cam was staring back at him. The strumming continued, and he hadn't even noticed when Cam lifted his head. He didn't know whether to look away or smile or apologize or what... but Cam wasn't saying anything. So Hunter just kept looking.

Cam had cool eyes. He'd had plenty of opportunity to notice this, considering the way they performed together, and he didn't see anything wrong with appreciating it now. He wondered idly what Cam was thinking, sitting there, staring impassively up at him as the last chord fading away into nothing.

Hunter blinked. Cam had stopped playing. Which meant they were just sitting there, or in his case, lying with his head propped up on one arm, watching each other. He probably ought to feel uncomfortable, either because Cam could see how he was looking at him or because he was looking at Hunter the same way.

"Friends don't look at each other like that," Blake had said. But what was Cam, if not his friend? Why did it matter how they looked at each other, as long as they were both cool with it?

Why had Cam pushed him away?

The sound of shouting from the parking lot made him frown, glancing over his shoulder automatically. There was the sound of a car door slamming, and he looked back at Cam just as tires started to squeal. Cam was putting his guitar down, clearly about to get up, and Hunter dropped his arm and rolled over. Swinging his legs over the other side of the bed, he got up and padded to the window, Cam coming up right behind him as he pushed the blinds aside.

There wasn't much to see. Whoever had been making the tires shriek was already gone, and although there were two people making their way from the parking lot toward the front of the motel, they looked more interested in each other than anything else. Hunter checked for his truck, found it right where they'd left it, and glanced over at Cam as he let go of the blinds.

"Crazy college kids," he joked, aware of Cam's proximity in a way he could usually ignore. Cam's lips quirked, and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. But he didn't turn away.

Hunter couldn't help it. He lifted his hand to Cam's face, hesitating half a second before brushing his fingers against Cam's cheek. Cam just stood there, looking at him. Hunter trailed his fingers back, touch as soft as he could make it, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck as he took a step closer.

Cam's lips parted, eyes wide and dark as he recognized the situation for what it was. "Don't," he breathed, his gaze not leaving Hunter's face.

Hunter stopped, considering Cam's expression. "Don't say that unless you mean it," he said quietly.

Cam's gaze dropped to his mouth, and when he tilted his head the slightest bit that was all the invitation Hunter needed. He leaned forward, just a gentle brush of skin on skin as his mouth found Cam's and then withdrew. He studied those dark eyes for a moment. Not a word of protest, not even the hint of a frown.

Holding that gaze as long as he could, he leaned in again and covered parted lips with his own. This time he was aware of Cam's hand on his chest--that same stupid thing he did when they were dancing--but he wasn't trying to push him away. He was returning the pressure on his mouth. He was tilting his head enough that they could kiss comfortably. He was being an active and willing participant, all things considered, and that seemed strange for someone who had been as vehement as he had been earlier and had never shown any interest whatsoever before then.

Hunter wasn't complaining. His free hand found Cam's shoulder and he leaned harder on the arm that pressed against his chest. He worked his lips across Cam's, catching, sucking, nuzzling, doing everything he could without actually invading his mouth. If Cam wanted tongue action he could damn well start it himself, because not saying "don't" wasn't the same as saying "do."

Or that's what he told himself. Noble words. The reality of it was that the moment he felt Cam's tongue flicker against his lips, he pounced. He slid his tongue under it, drew it into his mouth, surged forward to return the favor and felt Cam brace himself clumsily against the windowsill. He might have felt guilty if he hadn't been distracted by a soft moan that warmed the inside of his mouth, and damned if it wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever heard.

Then Cam was pulling away, maybe embarrassed, which was sort of cute but annoying at the same time. Hunter let him go anyway, giving him a smirk that was his only defense against that withering expression. "You're a good kisser," he teased, hoping he didn't sound as out of breath as Cam looked. "Who'd have thought?"

"Funny," Cam retorted, words as sharp as ever despite the flush that had crept across his face. He didn't miss a beat. "I was going to say the same thing about you."

And he had no answer for that, no clever reply to deflect Cam's attention. All he could do was stand there and stare at him and wait. Because if Cam hadn't wanted to do that, now would be the time to tell him. And if he had... Hunter wanted to do it again. He hoped Cam couldn't tell how much he wanted it, because--for one thing, it would be embarrassing, and for another they hadn't exactly addressed the cold shoulder issue. If Cam was okay with kissing, why hadn't he let Hunter do it before?

Cam shifted his weight, searching Hunter's face for who-knew-what. "What?" he asked at last, sounding oddly defensive.

Hunter broke into a grin. He couldn't help it, it just took over and there he was, grinning like an idiot because Cam wasn't telling him to get lost. "I dunno," he admitted, without taking his eyes off of Cam. Gesturing vaguely at the lights, he added, "You look kinda cute in the fluorescence."

He expected Cam to roll his eyes, come up with an offhand comment faster than he had been able to and put his awkward compliment in its place. Instead he just flushed, glancing down at the floor and then back up. "Must be the color," he said, deadpan.

It startled a laugh out of Hunter, and he let his gaze wander a little. "You look good in red," he agreed, reaching out on the pretense of straightening the sweatshirt he had brought only because he knew Cam wouldn't.

"Crimson," Cam corrected, although his voice didn't sound quite as firm as it had a moment before. He looked down as Hunter smoothed the sweatshirt across his chest, then lifted his chin when fingers found his collar and tweaked it, supposedly lining it up with the crewneck underneath. "Red is a whole other--a whole different thing."

Hunter didn't miss the stammer. He would have liked to think it coincided with his hands on Cam's skin, but there was a better way than asking to find out. "I think this is maroon," he murmured, lowering his head to Cam's shoulder and tugging the neckline as he went.

He pressed his lips to Cam's collarbone, pleased with the way he shivered when Hunter's tongue flicked across his skin. As an afterthought, Hunter added, "Gays are good with color, y'know."

"Oh?" Cam inquired. He tilted his head back as Hunter kissed, softly but thoroughly, a line all the way up Cam's neck toward his jaw. "Did someone tell you that?"

"Yeah," he said, finding Cam's mouth again and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "His name was Cameron Watanabe." Kissing Cam was not only a total turn on, it was also a great way to shut him up. He slid the hand on Cam's collar around behind his neck, fingers splayed against bare skin as he leaned into an open-mouthed kiss that was as much Cam's idea as his.

This time he let Cam's tongue do the exploring, holding back even when he felt fingers fist in his t-shirt. He caught Cam's elbow, as much to keep himself from getting too close as to keep Cam from getting away. He wasn't going to spook him again. He was enjoying this too much to push--especially if Cam was going to back off every time he tried.

Cam was the one pushing. He'd stepped back before he realized what was happening, and Cam followed instinctively and unapologetically. His free hand had clenched on the hem of Hunter's t-shirt, just low enough to make his breath catch when Cam leaned into him like that. Letting go of Cam's elbow was automatic, his hand coming to rest on the small of his back as he suddenly found himself with an armful of unrestrained hunger.

Hell yeah. Hunter forgot about trying to be polite or patient. He held on hard, his fingers sliding into dark hair as he plunged his tongue into Cam's mouth. Cam didn't object, didn't protest, didn't do anything but press closer and return the kiss like he wanted this more than Hunter did.

His mind produced an image of Cam outside the bar again. Backed up against the wall, tense and white as a ghost, like his world had just blown up in his face... trying to tell him something. Hunter pushed the thought aside ruthlessly. He was far more interested in this Cam than that one, and this Cam was moving against him in all the right ways.

This Cam was moving him toward the bed. He wasn't about to ask questions, but where the hell had this come from? No, he really wasn't going to ask questions. Maybe if he told himself that often enough he would believe it. He wasn't going to ask how Cam had made the jump from kissing to falling into bed, from making out to making love, from something that felt way too good to something he'd sworn he didn't do with friends.

Cam pulled away just long enough to lift his sweatshirt over his head, and Hunter had to help him--not because he wanted his clothes off, but because the sooner it was gone the sooner he could get his hands back on Cam's body. Black really did look good on him. Like he hadn't known that since the first day he started training.

Cam braced one knee on the bed, then the other, long arms around Hunter's neck pulling him down too. It was actually kind of fun to be off-balance, to be the surprised one, to be on a mattress with a really hot guy crawling all over him. And God, to have it be Cam...

Where was this coming from?

Shut the fuck up, he told his brain in no uncertain terms.

He kind of regretted that they didn't get all of their clothes off. Their pre-wedding exhaustion made the whole thing feel a little desperate. He didn't even get to make snarky comments about smiley faces that weren't as washable as they'd thought, because who couldn't use an extra mouth in situations like this? But there was very little talking, and in a way he couldn't explain, he was almost disappointed.

Almost. It felt good, intense, uncomplicated for the first time today. It relieved the ache he had been trying to suppress. It made Cam relax, finally, draining some of the tension out of him that Hunter hadn't been able to touch. And for the first time he was allowed to kiss, whenever and whatever he wanted, and there was just nothing bad about that.

He didn't want to let go afterward, but Cam looked pathetically tired and would sleep better with the lights off. With a sigh, Hunter let him finish undressing while he dragged himself up to go after the lightswitch. Cam's bed was closer to the door, which was a good thing in the near-total darkness. Hunter found him by the sound of his breathing, running a hand down his back and wrapping an arm around his waist. He savored the feeling for the briefest moment, then hauled him down into clean sheets without a word.

The distinction between waking and sleeping was lost on him after that. He felt like he was continuously aware of the body pressed up against his but nothing else. He noticed, through dream shadows and the fog of unconsciousness, that Cam pulled away from him at some point. He must have rolled over himself then, because somehow their positions got reversed and he felt Cam spoon up behind him as he drifted off again.

He didn't know what pulled him out of drowsy lethargy next, maybe the soft sound of his name, maybe some shift in the sleepy heat beside him. He listened idly, unroused, unmoving, waiting to see if it came again. He had never been much of a cuddler, at least not while he was sleeping, but there were worse things than having this particular body curled around his in the middle of the night.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment. The lightest of kisses against his shoulder blade was the first indication he had that something really had woken him... or rather, someone. He smiled to himself. Who knew Cam was such a sap?

Then, so softly it was almost inaudible, three words more felt than heard as Cam's whisper breathed across his skin.

His eyes snapped open. He held perfectly still. Keeping his breathing slow and even, he hoped like hell that he hadn't just heard what he thought he'd heard. No. That was crazy. Of course it was crazy. Cam couldn't possibly have said he loved him. Because he didn't--he couldn't...

Hunter stared unseeing into the darkness. He flashed back to Cam outside the bar, that inexplicably tortured look on his face. The look of someone with a secret he wasn't going to compromise by giving in to passion.

"I don't sleep with my friends."

Shit.

What had he done?

fin