Title: Closing Time
Summary: He never thought he'd fall in love. He never dreamt it would happen before closing time.
Time Frame: Beginning of Logan and Rory - during the no-strings era.
Warnings: Logan/Rory, Logan/Other, and well, we'll call it smut-lite.
Rating: M for sexual situations.
Author's note: More pointless semi-smut for the summer! I fully believe that we all need some pointless fun to read every once in awhile, especially during the hottest days of the year! Song credit goes to Tom Waits for I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You, and while I prefer the Hootie and the Blowfish cover, both are amazing versions of the same song.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, but never required.


Well I hope that I don't fall in love with you
'Cause falling in love just makes me blue,
Well the music plays and you display
your heart for me to see,
I had a beer and now I hear you
calling out for me
And I hope that I don't fall in love with you.

There were a million things he would do without batting an eye and he would welcome the outcome, or fallout as the case sometime was, with open arms, but there was one thing he vowed never to do. One thing that was just too risky, too dangerous, and frankly, wasn't worth the trouble for the almighty Logan Huntzberger. Love. He stayed clear of it, it was less messy, so much easier on himself, and on everyone around him, but mostly, himself. He had decreed it long ago, that he would never fall victim to a woman in such ways as he had witnessed his friends and family do. He had seen the outcome of falling in love and never was it good. His mother was prime example. Shira Huntzberger loved her husband deeply and what good came of it? She was trapped in a marriage with a man who loved her well enough, but loved his secretaries more.

Yes, he decided as he raised the mug to his lips and swallowed the amber liquid. Love simply wasn't worth it. He and his friends had the right idea. It was better to love 'em for the night and then slip out before sunrise and avoid any further contact with them. Fortunately, there were more than enough willing blondes and brunettes, and even redheads for Finn, who didn't care about relationships either, as long as they got to sleep with one of the three. And they were more than willing to give them that chance.

Of course, Logan reflected as he finished one glass and reached for another, Colin only slept with random girls to avoid admitting his true feelings for Stephanie and Finn, well, Finn was obsessed with Rosemary and knowing she didn't feel the same was more often than not the trigger of his one night stands.

So maybe his friends weren't immune to love, he determined as he observed the drunken attempts of the two to charm the objects of their affection from across the table. That was okay though. He knew better than to fall in love. He had watched Colin and Finn make asses of themselves enough times to know he was far better off staying unattached to any one girl for as long as he could.

So far, it had been easy. He had a few favorite girls that he kept in rotation on his cell phone. He knew it was crass, he knew it was playing with fire, he knew it was most likely stupid. He also knew it protected him. It kept him safe. In fact, as the alcohol he had already swallowed began to warm his body from the inside out he decided it wouldn't be so bad to call one of those girls and see what they were up to.

And then She walked in. She, who could potentially blow holes through all of his theories on love and relationships.

She was gorgeous. He would never deny that. Tonight she wore her hair down, the ends curling around her bare shoulders. Bare shoulders. He found himself nodding appreciatively at the dark red tank top and how its neckline dipped almost low enough to show him what he already knew lay beneath it.

She was more than just a pretty face and that's what scared him. She was smart; so much smarter than any other girl he knew. She was witty, she talked a million miles a minute, and he always found himself listening to every single word. And she was interesting; she cared about important things and he doubted she owned anything that came from Louis Vuitton.

Engaging her in a conversation about politics was the last thing on his mind tonight and he swallowed hard as his eyes zeroed in on the thin straps of her tank top and for a brief moment he entertained the thought of just how easily he could pull the top from her slender frame.

Instead, he offers her an easy smile and a shot glass. "Didn't think you were going to make it, Ace." He can't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes and how much bluer they seem to get as she takes the glass from him and swallows its contents with a flick of her wrist. A shudder graces her features for a split second and then she's smiling again and shoving him over in the booth to sit next to him.

"Of course I'm here," she says with a laugh. "What better way to spend a Friday night than to watch Colin and Finn make asses of themselves in front of the girls they love?" Her tone of voice is teasing but Colin still raises a finger at her before turning his attention back to whatever story Stephanie is telling.

"Oh I don't know." Logan winks and pours Rory a glass from his pitcher. "I can think of a few things we could be doing that would be more fun."

She rolls her eyes and again, he's struck at the color of them. Have they always been this blue? "You're so charming," she says sarcastically. Her sarcasm doesn't stop her left hand from falling onto his leg though, and he's immediately aware of it, the imprint of her fingers now burning into his thigh.

He needs a drink. A phone call. A hot blonde to walk through the door and pull him into the bathroom with those come fuck me eyes he knows so well. Anything to distract him from the girl sitting next to him, the girl who's nails are slightly digging into his flesh. The girl with eyes that hold an expression all their own. The more she drinks, the more she leans into him. The more she leans into him, the more he thinks about pushing into her.

He decides that bare shoulders are a bad thing after all. He's already counted four freckles in the dim lights and still he can't stop staring. He's tempted to pull her into the corner to see how far she lets him go, and then he considers just taking her into the bathroom, locking the door, and bending her over the sink.

He's about to lean in for a kiss when she observes how sad it is that Stephanie is so oblivious to Colin's feelings and wonders if maybe she should say something to the girl. That's all it takes for Logan to move back to his side of the booth. He can't keep losing his head around this girl. He can't let things go past the fun they've been having for the last month or so. He knows he can't let himself fall in love with her, because he knows he'll only end up hurting her in the end.

He also knows that whether she knows it or not, Rory Gilmore is a threat to everything he's ever believed in.

Well the room is crowded, people everywhere
And I wonder, should I offer you a chair?
Well if you sit down with this old clown,
take that frown and break it,
Before the evening's gone away,
I think that we could make it,
And I hope that I don't fall in love with you.

It's become a Friday night ritual. She has dinner with her family first and then meets them wherever they're at, and they're almost always at the Pub. Tonight she's running later than usual and Logan and company are already drunk when she gets there.

"So who was more important than us?" he asks as she appears next to their table. He'd never admit to it, but he's been wondering what kept her, and the idea that she possibly could have been with someone else didn't sit right with him. The fact that he finds himself caring really doesn't sit right with him. He's not supposed to be jealous.

"Aw! No one is more important than you!" She ruffles his hair and takes the mug from his hands, stealing a sip before she sets it back down. "I've been at the paper finishing an article. As far as Grandma knows, I'm still there," she confesses. She glances around and shakes her head at Colin who is staring adoringly at Stephanie. "Gotta give him credit," she says with a shrug. "A lesser man would have stopped trying ages ago."

"I can hear you." Colin looks up only to glare at her. "And I'll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself for the night."

"Well excuse me!' She laughs and pushes on Logan's shoulder. "Move over!"

"Sorry Ace." He shrugs and takes another drink. "You're late getting here, the table's full, there's no room on this side of the booth." He looked to his left pointedly, and it's then that she realizes Finn and Rosemary are occupying the spot next to Logan, though neither of them looks like they're planning on coming up for air anytime soon to greet her.

"Mean!" She pouts for a second. "The gentlemanly thing for you to do would be to give me your seat," she says decidedly.

"True," he agrees with a nod. "And I'm many things, Rory, but I doubt you could find anyone who would say a gentleman was one of them."

Her lower lip juts out and all he can remember is sucking on that very same lip just two nights ago. Her grandparents had hosted a fundraiser at their house, and Logan and Rory had spent the entire function upstairs in one of the guest rooms. She had tasted like raspberries then and he can't help but wonder what she tastes like now.

He doesn't wonder for long. Maybe it's the alcohol already coursing through his body, or maybe it's simply the fact that she's there, but before he can stop himself he pulls her down onto his lap and kisses her firmly. He's pleased to find she still tastes like raspberries.

Rory's protests are weak and he grins under her lips as she falls into his embrace, her arms settling around his neck comfortably. He tests the waters, inches fingers underneath the hem of her shirt. She doesn't pull away. Her skin is smooth underneath his thumb and he wishes they weren't in a crowded bar right now. He concentrates his efforts on the kiss, hoping if that's all she can focus on she won't notice if his hand moves higher. And higher. And higher still…

She pushes his hand away the second it snakes under her bra and she glares at him. "Definitely not gentlemanly!" she scolds. He smirks and leans forward, this time kissing her neck. Again, she doesn't pull away. Her hair smells like oranges, and he pulls her closer, making sure his lips hit the spots he's learned she likes.

"This is so not the place for this!" she hisses at him and he couldn't agree more.

"You're right," he says, moving her off of his lap and standing up. "Let's go."

"What?" She blinks at him, long dark lashes fluttering over pale skin. "Where?"

"Someplace that's not here." He stares at her, hopes she can sense how much he wants her right now. He doesn't know why he wants her so much right, Why he needs to be buried deep inside her right now. He sees something flash in her own eyes, she's considering what he's asking, She bites down on her lower lip, thinking hard. More than anything, he wants to be the one biting that lip.

"Let's go," she says softly. He doesn't need to hear anything else. He hastily says goodbye to the guys before grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the bar. They barely make it to the parking lot, he doesn't waste time getting her into the car, just pushes her against the side of the SUV and attacks her mouth again. He wastes no time pushing his hands back under her shirt and before she even knows what he's doing to her, he has her bra unsnapped and his head buried between her breasts.

Initially, she objects and he ignores her. She tries to push him away but he keeps her hands firmly at her sides. After a bit of a struggle, she frees one hand and brings it down between them, stroking him a little bit softer than he cares for. He releases her other hand and she uses it to shove him away from her.

"Not here," she says through gritted teeth and Logan can't help but stare at her. Underneath the streetlamp, she's a mess with tousled hair and wrinkled clothes; her eyes are glassy and her shoulders are heaving as she tries to catch her breath. He's fairly sure he's never wanted her more than he does now. He just nods, helps her into the SUV and breaks the speed limit getting them back to his place.

Later, much later, when they're tangled in his sheets and her eyes are closed, he watches her and isn't so sure he likes what he sees.

His resolve is crumbling and he's sinking hopelessly into her.

Well the night does funny things inside a man
These old tom-cat feelings you don't understand,
Well I turn around to look at you,
you light a cigarette,
I wish I had the guts to bum one,
but we've never met,
And I hope that I don't fall in love with you.

Two weeks have passed since his last night with Rory and he hasn't been able to get her out of his mind. He's tried though, Lord knows he's tried. He's still trying tonight. With a girl named Carly.

Carly is the anti-Rory. She's blonde and vapid and exactly what Logan needs tonight. At the present moment, she's pressed firmly into his side, staring blankly at Seth, who has just finished telling a joke Logan's heard a thousand times before. He's fairly sure Carly doesn't get it. He's sure he doesn't care.

"I'm bored," she complains and pouts in his direction. "You said tonight was going to be fun."

"I'm having fun." Logan takes a drink from his mug. "You're not having fun?"

"I'm not having fun," she reiterates and tosses her hair over one shoulder. Her hand falls into his lap and his eyes follow as she unzips him right there under the table. She smiles as he quirks an eyebrow at her and her eyes flick over to a dark and empty corner of the pub. Slowly, she zips him back up and rises from her chair. She saunters over to the corner, stopping halfway to check over her shoulder to see that yes, he is watching her.

He takes another long slow drink from his beer before scraping his own chair back from the table. "Excuse me, boys," he says before making his own way across the crowded room to where Carly is waiting for him.

She doesn't wait for him to make a move, her lips and hands are on him eagerly the moment he's within reach and while he's more than happy to oblige her, he's just not as into it as he should be.

He's expecting raspberries, and is caught off-guard by the taste of nicotine instead. It takes him a second to remember that he's not with her tonight, and that that's the whole point. He pushes every thought of raspberries and dark hair and clear blue eyes out of his mind as he pushes Carly against the wall, raising her skirt even higher around her thighs as her hands find their way back to his zipper.

Two nights later and he's back at the pub, but this time he's alone. Normally, he wouldn't be there on a Monday night, but he's had a run-in with Rory on campus and it's left him a little unnerved. She's heard about his recent trysts and understandably, she's not happy. His explanation of their no-strings relationship earned him a slap in the face and well, there's no better way to nurse a bruised cheek and or ego, than an ice cold beer. And lots of it.

One hour and many beers later, he's feeling better than he had earlier and his eyes wander over to a girl standing at the bar. From behind, it could be her. She's got the same long dark hair, the same build, she's even wearing an outfit he could see on her. Setting his empty cup down, he doesn't think twice before approaching her.

"Buy you a drink?" he asks, leaning in close to her ear. She turns to face him and he's both pleased and disheartened to see she has blue eyes. She accepts his offer and turns to the bartender. She orders a cocktail, raspberry Stoli and lemonade, and he's not sure if this is God's way of helping him or mocking him.

He loses counts of drinks and before he knows it, they're stumbling their way into her dorm room. All he knows about her is that her name is Josie and she's very, very drunk. He doesn't need to know anymore than that, and quickly, they're falling out of their clothes and into her bed. They exchange very few words, words aren't necessary for what they're doing, for what they're about to do, and his mind is so hazy with booze that he's not sure he remembers any words as it is.

He remembers one word however and this becomes apparent at the most inopportune time. Her head is in his lap; her tongue working wonders against his skin and his hands are twisting in her hair when he finds his voice, or maybe, it finds him, and he utters the only word he can think of.

"Rory…"

No other word could ruin the mood quicker and he's not surprised to find himself standing outside in the hallway only seconds later, with his shirt in his hands and his belt still undone. Hearing the definitive click of the lock from inside, he sighs and finishes dressing before leaning his forehead against the wall.

He's in so much deeper than he thought, it's completely clear to him now. He's abandoned everything he's ever believed in, and in favor of what? He's not -- he couldn't possibly be -- is he?

He sighs and as he walks out into the night he speaks the only other word to enter his head.

"Fuck."

I can see that you are lonesome just like me,
and indeed would you like some company,
Well I turn around to look at you,
and you look back at me,
The guy you're with has up and split,
the chair next to you's free,
And I hope that you don't fall in love with me.

It's unbelievable. He's here and ready to call off their no-strings relationship and she's here with another guy. She's brought another guy to their Friday night date and what's worse, if she notices how put out he is by this turn of events, she's definitely not showing it.

There's more than the usual crowd tonight, and because of this, she and her date are sitting at a table a few feet away with some of Logan's other friends. Rory might not be paying attention to him, but he's definitely watching her. She's having a good time, and whoever this guy is, he's comfortable enough with her to have his arm loosely around her shoulder as they laugh at the same joke Seth's been telling for weeks. This guy - he hasn't bothered to learn his name - leans sideways and whispers something into Rory's ear, eliciting a peal of laughter from her. He glares. He's the one who should be making her laugh like that.

He stares for too long and she catches him. Their eyes lock for a few moments before she purposefully turns towards her date and engages him in another round of conversation, all the while watching Logan out of the corner of her eye. He can play this game, hell, he invented this game. With his eyes still on her he moves his chair closer to the girl next to him, some friend of Juliet's, and lays on his patented charm. He's pleased to see Rory's eyes snap angrily before she turns completely away from him. He smiles. It's too easy,

Later in the night, her date gets up, gives her a quick peck on the cheek that he tries to ignore, and leaves. He wastes no time in sliding into the empty chair next to her. "New friend of yours?"

She shrugs. "You could say that. Why? Is that a problem?"

"No, no problem at all." He shrugs back at her. "He's not what I'd expect, is all. A little… I don't know, common, for you?"

She laughs. "You forget, I am common myself. She on the other hand," she nods at Juliet's friend. "She is exactly what I would expect."

"And that is?"

"Oh you know… blonde, dull, easy." She doesn't bother to hide the sarcasm in her voice. "Really, she's perfect your next conquest, Logan, why are you wasting your time over here?"

He leans in close to her, uncomfortably close. "What's the matter, Rory? As I recall, you didn't mind being one of my conquests." He leans closer still, making sure to invade her space, his lips touching the tip of her ear as he talks to her. "In fact, I bet you'd love to be tonight's conquest as well, wouldn't you?" He's being an ass, he knows this, but jealousy never did sit well with him and well, the alcohol certainly isn't helping him filter out his thoughts. Maybe, if he's a big enough ass she'll tell him to go to hell and he won't have to worry about this -- this love thing after all.

She smiles sweetly at him but her eyes could strike any man dead. Her foot circles his ankle and runs up the length of his calve as she leans into his own space. "If you think I'm going to let you touch me tonight, or any other night for that matter, you had better find a new way to think. I've got news for you, but this thing between us? It's done. We're done."

"Are we?" He peers under the table where her foot is still running up and down his leg.

"We are," she confirms.

"Well now that's a shame because honestly…" he pauses, catching her foot between his legs to pull her even closer still. "I have to admit, I've been having some very inappropriate thoughts about you, Ace."

She holds his gaze for a moment, and a smile graces her features. "You're jealous," she says triumphantly.

"Jealous," he echoes. "Jealous of what?"

"Of the idea of me being interested in someone else." Her tone is near giddy and she claps her hands excitedly. "This is just too perfect. Logan Huntzberger is jealous!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He's unnerved that she knows him so well.

"Really." She purses her lips for a moment, and he fights the urge to kiss the smirk off of her face. The tension between them Is almost too much at this point and he's relieved when she pushes forward, catching his mouth with her own. She definitely has the upper hand this time, and he groans into her, pulling her into his arms, trying to regain some of the power he's used to having over her.

She ends the kiss sooner than he cares for and he's again, at a loss for words when she stands up and slips her jacket around her shoulders. She leans down, presses a quick kiss to his cheek. "You're right," she whispers against his skin. "You're not jealous at all." At this, she straightens up, picks up her purse and makes her exit from the bar. She sing-songs a "Goodnight Logan" before walking away and he's quite sure he's never felt more frustrated or more out of control than he does right now.

Now it's closing time, the music's fading out
Last call for drinks, I'll have another stout.
Well I turn around to look at you,
you're nowhere to be found,
I search the place for your lost face,
guess I'll have another round

One week later finds them at the pub again, only this time there's no other dates. It's just the two of them, Finn, Colin, and their respective dates. It seems as though they've called a truce of sorts; there aren't any mean-spirited digs, no uncalled-for sarcastic quips, no power struggles. If there was ever a calm before the storm, this was most certainly it, and Logan isn't sure how to handle it.

He's still shaken by her, completely rattled and thrown off balance and he has no idea what to do. He's been watching her all night and he doesn't think he's ever been more charmed by anyone in his life. The ease in which she fit herself so seamlessly into his life, the way she challenges him to rethink every rule he's lived by, he simply doesn't know what to do with her anymore. He supposes he's always known she wasn't like any other girl he had ever known, but this was entirely new to him, and he's disturbed to realize he's ready to give up on every single theory he swears by.

"Are you okay?" Her words startle him out of his thoughts and he grins at her.

"Great. Couldn't be better." He leans forward and kisses her fully on the lips, pleased when she doesn't object. "You look nice tonight, have I told you that?"

Her face scrunches up as she listens to him. "Thanks." Her voice carries a trace of puzzlement and he's sure he's won some of the power back in their relationship. "Finn just challenged me to a game of pool, do you mind?"

"Go ahead," he waves her off. "If you lean over the table enough times, Finn won't have a chance." She laughs and Finn cuffs him on the head and as he watches them walk away he's vaguely aware of Colin's voice in the background, telling him how so far gone he is for this girl.

She's back minutes later, protesting that Finn's a better pool player drunk and she needs his help. He follows her to the tables, stopping midway to kiss her again. She surprises him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. The embrace lasts only as long as Finn allows it to before he's complaining that they either get a room or play some pool. Rory laughs and drags Logan to the pool table, hands him a pool stick and waits for him to make the first shot.

He wishes he could say he was smoother than this, that he doesn't engage her in the standard cheesy-movie pool table groping that she's undoubtedly made fun of countless times, but he can't. He's there, and she's there, and as he's become accustomed to, she tastes like raspberries and he can't get enough of her. She doesn't seem to mind, in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say she might even be encouraging him.

He's a coward. Two hours pass and he can't even bring himself to admit to her that his feelings have changed. He doesn't know if he should say anything, what she would even say in return. Does she feel the same way? He can't be sure. He can't blame her if she doesn't, he's a lot of things, but boyfriend material? That's about as low on the list as it can get.

A glance at the clock near the bar shows it to be almost closing time and he decides he it's now or never. He needs one last drop of liquid courage and he's going to do the unthinkable. He's going to grab her and confess everything and hope for the best.

Halfway through his last drink he realizes it's been one too many and the room starts to spin a little. Things don't seem to be going in his favor and for a moment he thinks about just giving up on his plan for the night.

"Hey Huntzberger, you okay there?" It's not Rory asking after him, but Colin, and he struggles to look at him from his spot at the table. Colin's not in much better shape than he, but he at least has Stephanie with him, supporting him as they make their way out of the pub. Going against better judgment, he finishes off the last drops in his glass and looks around again for Rory. He doesn't see her anywhere, and figures she's taken off for the night. It's just as well, he decides as he cashes out his bill and tips the waitress generously. It's not like her to leave without saying goodbye, but he's almost thankful she has. This way, he's saved her from making what could have been a huge mistake. This way, he can't go through with telling her how he feels. He can leave and pretend he never fell in love with Rory Gilmore. Denial, it's a beautiful thing.

"Hey." Her voice breaks through the din and he looks up to see her standing in front of him. Waiting for him. Her hand slips into his and she squeezes it tightly. "Are you ready?"

Of course, he rationalizes, there is something to be said for telling the truth.

And I think that I just fell in love with you.