How Many Hits Can a Good Boy Take?
It always starts the same. An ex sends a text message that says "What are you up to?" when everyone knows it means something else. Jagan. NC-17.
a/n: Okay, has anyone heard that silly T-Pain and Lily Allen song called 5 O'clock? Okay, I heard it and, like everything else, wrapped it up in Jagan and this is that. Also, I love the song now because Jagan is all I think of when I hear it. So anyway! Enjoy and review!
It always starts the same. An ex sends a text message that says "What are you up to?" when everyone knows it means something else.
Logan was out with an ex he was hoping would become an ex ex when he received that text from his most recent ex.
He sighed when he looked at the screen of his phone, and it wasn't because it was James. No, he was used to texting James. They were still friends after all. Things were a little hazy between them, but Logan had refused to let anything ruin their friendship, always had, right from the start. The facts were that things just hadn't worked out. Plain and simple. James had been unable to commit fully to Logan, which Logan had unfortunately expected from him. It wasn't that Logan had low expectations of James, it was that James was… well, he was James. And the only thing he ever committed to was himself.
The reason James' text (typed poorly as what r u up 2?) made Logan sigh was that James knew full well what Logan was up to. He himself had helped Logan decide what shirt to wear out with Camille tonight. It was supposed to have sent a clear message to James that Logan was moving on, just as he'd always planned to do.
James had stood behind Logan in front of the mirror, holding a shirt on its hanger over Logan's shoulder for a few moments before switching to the shirt in his other hand, and repeating. "I think the blue brings out your eyes best," he'd said, smiling. Fashion always made James smile in a way Logan wasn't sure he ever had been able to. And wasn't that sad.
Logan had shrugged and tugged on the other shirt, urging James to switch them again. "I think grey. Camille's wearing that blue dress I like, I don't want us to look like we're going to Prom…" Logan glanced at James in the mirror to see his smile falter. It was a double hit… and Logan knew exactly what he was doing. Not only did he blatantly mention liking Camille's dress, but he'd said Prom, and that was his and James' thing. Even if it hadn't been at the time, it had become their thing, and Logan knew James was under the impression it still was.
He didn't want to hurt James; all he wanted was to make it clear what was going on. That he was going out with Camille, possibly getting back together with her, and certainly not getting back together with James.
So James knew perfectly well what Logan was up to. He was out at dinner with Camille and some other residents of the Palmwoods before they would all head over to a party being thrown for Camille's new movie. Just because Logan was Camille's date didn't make it a date, he knew, but it did make it something.
Logan was staring at his phone and trying to decide whether to respond or not when Camille stopped laughing with the girl on her right to lean over to Logan on her other side, glancing down at his phone. "Hey, everything alright?" she asked, her smile turning more to a look of concern.
Logan realized he must have been telegraphing his displeasure pretty clearly and looked up. "Huh? Oh, no, it's just James…" he said quietly so no one else could hear and shook his head as he looked at his phone again.
"Ah…" Camille replied, nodding knowingly and sympathetically. "Is… everything alright?" she asked again, but this time it implied a little more.
Logan offered a reassuring smile and shook his head dismissively. "It'll be fine," he responded vaguely, and texted James back, hoping to make it sound final.
Still at dinner with Camille. Then we're going to her party. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket, hoping that would be the end of it.
But, of course, that wasn't the end of it, because that would be too easy, and what was ever easy with James? Just as Logan was cutting into his steak, his phone buzzed again. Another sigh later, Logan was checking the message reluctantly while Camille watched him in her peripheral vision probably in a way she thought was subtle. He shouldn't have even bothered checking it, he knew, but to take his phone from his pocket whenever it vibrated was an automatic reaction instilled in him by many demanding texts from Gustavo, so he went ahead and read the message anyway.
o i forgot. Bullshit he forgot… r u having fun?
This time Logan put his phone away without responding. James wanted to chit-chat, to take Logan away from dinner, to put him mentally back at the apartment in a conversation that would inevitably turn into a fight. They always did…
Logan's phone buzzed again and he instinctually went to check it—what if it was Gustavo or Kendall, not James?—but Camille grabbed his elbow before he could. "If you don't want to be here, Logan, I understand…" she said, her voice far from annoyed.
Camille knew what all had gone down between James and Logan; she'd been someone Logan had texted for comfort the day they officially broke it off. Of course, he'd talked to Kendall and Carlos, too—how could he not? But Camille was someone unbiased towards James. If anything, she was actually biased towards Logan, and while Kendall and Carlos were a great help to Logan's mood, they were so fair about it all, and Logan had really needed someone, anyone, to take sides. To take his side. And while Camille was James' friend, of course, he knew she would put money on Logan in a fight against a grizzly bear.
Logan remembered how her voice had sounded when he'd called her that evening, starting out perky and a little flirty, just the way she talked, and how as soon as he'd spoken, the way she'd said "Logan, what's wrong?" was so serious and like she was ready to pounce.
They'd met in Palmwoods Park where Logan told her solemnly everything that had gone down, the long, painful fight that led to their break-up, and the way he just felt so empty and tired. It didn't help that he felt like he was the one who hurt James, not the other way around. But he didn't cry. Eventually, it just turned into Camille holding his hand in silence.
"No. No, it's fine, I want to be here, I do," Logan now reassured her emphatically, holding his hand out. And it was true, he wanted to be here with Camille, having a nice dinner, chatting with friends, going to a party where he might be able to get his hands on a little dessert wine. "I just have to check this text." She raised her eyebrows at him and he shook his head. "In case it's someone other than… in case it's someone else…" Logan's voice faded to a mutter and he slipped his phone out of his pocket as Camille let go of his arm. A little box said James (2) and he slipped it back in, not bothering to check the contents of the second message.
Logan had changed James' name in his phone back to James rather than Favorite Best Friend, (something James had personally changed it to) a week after they broke up. It had taken him a little time to accept it was really over.
Logan put on a happy face and struck up a polite conversation with the actor friend of Camille's across from him over their meals. It was all very generic—What do you do? You're in a band? What's the name? What sort of music do you sing? That's cool, I'll have to give you a listen sometime.
The entire time, he was thinking about what the unread text in his pocket might say.
He wondered if it was James telling him he missed him. Or maybe something a little more forceful, possessive; "I don't want you dating Camille. You're mine." The thought sent reluctant shivers down Logan's spine and he did his best to shake them off. He didn't want to belong to James anymore, because he knew that was a fantasy that would lead to nothing but more stress and pain. James just didn't care enough. What was more likely was that the text was something whiny about being bored.
But, still, as he and Camille inspected the dessert menu, Logan kept thinking about his phone. Finally, he set the menu down and made a face as he turned to Camille. "Hey, I think I'm actually full. And… I've gotta run to the bathroom, so I'll be right back," he said, pushing back out of his chair and heading to the sanctity of the bathroom. He didn't give Camille time to respond, but he definitely could feel her watching him the whole way.
Once in the bathroom, Logan finally looked at his phone. He stared at the James (2) for a few moments before unlocking it and reading the texts. First there was the one he'd ignored.
o i forgot. r u having fun?
Which was followed up by,
u could be havin fun with me 2
Logan's lips tightened and he leaned back against the counter. James knew better. He considered actually calling James to tell him to stop. But he figured it wasn't worth it and just texted back. Knock it off, James. That's not funny.
He stood there and stared at his phone as he waited anxiously, shifting from one foot to another. A man stepped up to the counter to wash his hands and Logan gave a polite, but awkward smile. He was actually grateful when James' next text came and he could look busy.
im not bein funny. im srs. come home and ill show u fun.
He hated that text. James was entering a territory he knew better than to step foot in anymore. He was pushing Logan's buttons, and Logan's stomach was churning at the realization that he didn't know what to say back (whether that was because he was getting angry or James' suggestions were doing what they were intended to do) when he got James' next text. Logan figured James could text so fast because he omitted so many letters…
forget camille. come hang out w/ me. pls?
Logan scowled and ran his hand through his hair. This couldn't be happening. Not right now. He just texted back No. and shoved his phone back in his pocket before going back out to the table.
The desserts had already come, along with the checks, and as Logan took his seat again, he reached for Camille's bill, telling her, "Here, I'll pay."
But Camille grabbed it away, giving Logan a look. "No, that's okay. I've got me, you just take care of you…" He couldn't really place her tone, but she seemed just a little distant, reluctant to let Logan do anything too personal and date-like, like paying for her meal. Logan sighed, hoping that wasn't the case. He'd thought perhaps Camille had invited him out tonight with the same plans he'd had.
Unfortunately, nothing about this night was turning out quite like Logan had planned.
James kept texting Logan as he and Camille piled into a limo with a few other actors to go to the party. He glanced at his phone long enough to see James (3) and to silence it.
He wasn't thinking about James tonight. He was doing all he could to not think about James. Their break had been hard enough, Logan didn't think it was fair for James to continue making things worse. Logan wished he could just forget it, but he figured if he forgot how awful it was, he might have been cajoled back into it and then he'd have to live through the hurt all over again.
They'd fought all the time. About stupid stuff. James borrowed $10 from Logan without asking. Logan left his math book on James' bed. James put a lot more product than usual in his hair one day. Logan laughed at a part of a movie James thought was touching.
That was what they'd said out loud, at least. Inside, Logan knew James didn't want to spend time alone with him. Inside, Logan knew James didn't want to commit to him. Inside, Logan didn't want to shout and shove, he wanted to talk things out and fix it. He didn't know why he kept picking fights over stupid stuff instead of just saying what he was feeling. He was just afraid, he thought.
Until the day he did say it. It had come out unexpectedly after James had said he wasn't feeling going to the movies. "You're not feeling the movies or you're not feeling me?" he'd blurted, sounding a lot more pissed than the situation really called for.
James was taken aback and gaped at Logan a little, clearly confused by the outburst. "What is that supposed to mean?"
It all went downhill from there.
"It doesn't mean anything… forget it…"
"No, what are you talking about? Come on, Logan, we're dating, aren't we? You can—"
"Are we dating? Is that what this is?"
"You aren't making sense, of course we're—"
"You keep bailing on me! You never want to spend time alone with me. It's always you and me and the guys or you and me and Camille or you and me and everyone in the lobby. We're never alone together unless we're… unless—unless we're—"
"Fucking. Say it, Logan, it isn't that hard."
"…unless we're in bed. So do you agree?"
"That's the only time you want to be alone with me."
"We're alone right now—"
"Fighting! And you—"
"—were about to bail on me, so—"
"You were! Because you don't want to go to the movies with me, you don't want to go on a date, you don't want to be alone with me."
"I didn't say that, I didn't—"
"Then you disagree."
"That's the only time you want to be alone with me."
"I didn't. Say that. Stop twisting my words!"
"You aren't disagreeing, James! Tell me, are we dating, or are we sleeping together?"
"I don't believe you."
"But it's true!"
"It is not."
"If you're so convinced, then why did you even ask?"
"Because I want you to tell the truth, okay? I've tried, James! I've tried so hard. I give you everything I can, because I—you're—because you're—because I'm—" He had to stop for a moment. "…you're closer to me than anyone, James…"
"…what are you trying to say, Logan?"
"…nothing. I'm not trying to say anything. All I mean is what I'm saying and that's that I've tried and… all I want is to be with you, but… sometimes you don't seem to even want that."
"Logan, I want—"
"Not sometimes, all the time."
"Would you let me talk?"
"Are you going to say you want to be with me? Because—"
"God, Logan! Shut up and let me talk!"
…Logan stared with his mouth open. Then he shut his mouth. James stared at him.
"…you had something to say?"
"Yeah… Logan… I want… you. I want you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I want you! I don't know! What else would it mean?"
"Does it mean you want to be with me or you want to use me?"
"Use you? Logan—"
"I just said the only time you want to be alone with me is when we're having sex! And you didn't even say otherwise… How is that not using me?"
"It's not because I—"
"It's like you don't actually want a relationship, you don't want to commit."
It was James' turn to shut his mouth.
"…tell me I'm wrong James. Please…"
James stared at Logan until he looked like he couldn't anymore and he looked at the ground.
"Tell me I'm wrong and you're not avoiding committing to me. Make this work. Tell me that isn't what this is, James. Please?
It had ended like that, more or less, and it had hurt more than it should have, in Logan's opinion. He'd made James sit down with him later and decide that they needed to stay friends more than anything. Agree that it would have never worked out between them. Discuss how they were going to return to friendship and make that work.
So why was James doing this now? He knew so much better. But Logan also knew better than to keep wanting to text back. He knew it could lead to nothing good.
Still, as they pulled up to the party, Logan pulled out his phone, even though he knew he shouldn't. James (4).
He felt Camille's arm link with his, but not in a romantic way at all, more like she could sense he needed some touch of comfort, and he sighed.
That was about the moment he figured this wasn't going to go anywhere with Camille. Which was probably for the best. He'd been a jerk to want to use her like that in the first place. Because was that any better than what he and James had had?
When they got inside the party, which was at the huge, swanky house of one of the actors in Camille's movie, Camille turned to face Logan, looking seriously at him. "Try to have fun, okay? Get to know people. Stop thinking about this," she instructed, taking his phone gently out of his hand and holding it up.
Logan sighed and took the device back, replacing it in his pocket in an overdramatic gesture to ensure she knew he was putting it away. She smiled, but didn't seem convinced. Still, she touched his face gently, leaning in a little as though she were telling a secret. "Stop thinking, Logan," she clarified, then let her hand fall away and joined a nearby group of people, an immediate smile on her face that Logan respected so much, because he honestly couldn't tell if it was real or not.
Stop thinking? How is someone supposed to stop thinking? he wondered, and let his gaze wander. There were actors here he recognized from movies and television, most young, a couple production people he was familiar with, but a vast majority were people he didn't know. What he was certain of was that just as many people here wouldn't know or care who he was.
He felt oddly warm plastic under his fingers and realized his hands had found their way back into his pockets and he was feeling his phone again, running his fingers over its seams and screen. He sighed, closing his eyes and willing himself to take his hand out of his pocket and not bring the cell phone with it. But when he opened his eyes, he saw James (5) in neat white letters.
He nearly smiled, because Five texts? Really, James? You miss me that much.
But he didn't smile, because that wasn't true. James didn't miss him. He missed him, and while that shouldn't have made any sense to logical Logan, it unfortunately did. If Logan texted James right then and said "I'll come home if you'll spend time alone with me, just you and me and no sex," he knew James would redact his request that Logan return.
So he shoved his phone back in his pocket.
Most of the people at the party were nice, but Logan had trouble really believing it. After all, Camille had been flawless in her transition from sweet and serious towards Logan to social and excited towards her co-stars. He wasn't sure who was actually nice and interested in him and who was just a really good faker. It just didn't seem like so many people there would at all care about one quarter of a boy band who didn't really belong there in the first place. Or maybe that was the cynicism he'd learned from James.
It hadn't always sucked with James. Logan had to remind himself of that. They were alone together all the time at first. The day Logan had finally confessed everything to James, they were alone. They were alone that whole evening and night and next morning, too, doing nothing. Just being alone.
But that didn't last long. They were alone less and less, touching less and less, reverting more. They started to feel less like a couple. That was why Logan got desperate and added sex to the mix, hoping that was what was needed to get James back, return to how they'd started.
Though that made it worse. It did what Logan had intended it to and he got James back, but he only had him back then, when they were fooling around. Every other time, it was like James didn't want to look at him, touch him, talk to him. And that made it all hurt worse.
"Hey, are you okay, man?" a voice asked, and Logan looked up. A boy about his age had his hand on his shoulder and was looking with a raised eyebrow at him.
Only then did Logan realize he'd totally zoned and had been staring at the ground. He probably looked sad, he figured, given what he'd been thinking about, and smiled good-heartedly. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just… trying to remember if I shut my bedroom window." He chuckled a little, really trying to sell the excuse, and it seemed to work well enough. The other boy smiled with him and patted his shoulder.
"Here's hoping you did. Looks like that rain's going to get even heavier," he commented, nodding at the tall floor-to-ceiling windows where water drizzled down.
Logan sighed with his fake half-smile. "Yeah…"
Soon, Logan really did have to go to the bathroom, and he wasn't faking it to check his phone like before. But as he was washing his hands and noting how this time he was in a private restroom, alone, with no one to be awkward around, Logan couldn't help but let his mind go to the cell phone in his pocket. He'd silenced it so he couldn't feel if it vibrated anymore, but he wondered if James had continued texting him or had given up and decided to entertain himself.
Against his better judgment, Logan checked his inbox. His eyes widened, because the count was much higher now. James had not, in fact, given up.
u no how fun i can b…
ok no more teasing ill b good promise just txt me back?
r u ignoring me? r u mad?
im gonna go in ur room if u dont txt back u no ill do it
fine keep having fun w/ camille im gonna have fun alone in ur room
an i hope u no what i mean
i mean unorganizing ur books! an rearranging ur color coded closet!
jus kidding i meant doing dirty things
wish u were here 2 do them with me….
but i did switch ur clothes around cause ur being mean an not txting me back
but now im gonna strip off my clothes...
i think im gonna put on ur pjs
theyre kinda tight on me i like it makes me look hot
Logan could have choked on his own tongue at the next text because it was a picture James had taken, apparently by holding his phone over himself as he very clearly laid in Logan's bed. Logan could only see James' chest and his face, of course, but he could tell James was wearing his sleep shirt. Now he was getting pissed, because this was out of hand.
He didn't want to, but instead of texting James back, Logan called him. He should have expected it, but it rang until it got to voicemail, and Logan practically growled as he spoke. "James, I swear to God, if you don't get out of my pajamas and my bed and my room right now? I'm going to kick your ass so hard, it's going to be sorer than I've ever made it before."
Logan stopped with a short gasp at himself, because he couldn't believe he'd just said something like that. He hung up before he could keep talking, keep letting his anger and frustration get the better of him. He sighed heavily and bitterly and turned on the faucet. He wet his hands enough to lift a little cold water to his face, then wiped it off on the hand towel. When he'd finished, his phone was lit up again where it sat on the counter.
Logan groaned. What was he supposed to say to that?
What did James think he was doing?
He didn't have to think of a response, though, because another text came first.
i took off ur pjs but i cant leave ur bed cause now im cold
Logan's eyes widened with realization and he immediately texted back. You better not be naked in my bed, James Diamond!
wouldnt b the 1st time
Logan stared at the text, eyebrows lowered a little before he leaned forward on the counter and texted back. Why are you doing this?
A knock came on the bathroom door and Logan jumped. "Uh—just a minute!" he hollered just as his phone lit up with text.
i want u home
Then, almost immediately, i want u w/ me
Logan squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to put his phone away without texting back. What would he say, anyway? He couldn't even decide if he was angry or not…
He opened the door back into the hallway and Camille, of all people, was standing there. Her eyes lit up over a smile, as she greeted him. "Logan!" But then it faded a little. "What's the matter?" she asked, sounding a little disappointed. She'd probably been wanting him to have fun—well, of course she had, and Logan felt a little bad that he couldn't do that for her.
So he faked his smile again, though it was ten times harder with Camille, and said, "Nothing. Just… worried about the rain. I think I left my bedroom window open."
"Uh… huh," Camille responded, and she was anything but convinced. She went on, anyway, though. "Let me run in here real quick and then you and I will get some wine, okay?" she offered with a smile, stepping around Logan to go in the bathroom and she shut the door behind herself before he could even answer.
Not that he was going to say anything otherwise, because it was the best thing he'd heard all evening.
Logan wished he was a lightweight, really. He wasn't a huge partier and he actually wasn't that used to drinking, but he'd been told that his tolerance was probably just natural. Maybe inherited. His mother was one of those moms who had a glass of wine every night to "take the edge off," after all.
But it took until his fourth glass of wine before Logan started to even feel a tingling in his skin. It was always his forehead first, little numbness across his skull, and he was grateful, because that meant his brain was turning down the dimmers. It meant he could worry less about the texts in his pocket.
The bad thing about Logan's level of tolerance, though, was that it meant there wasn't much transition between sober and a little drunk. Once that fourth glass was empty, Logan was warm in his veins and buzzing across his skin and smiling so much his face hurt. Camille was more sober than not, and she kept laughing at Logan, apparently very amused by his change in demeanor.
"Because—because—because—no, shh, listen to me," Logan chuckled, actually touching his fingers to Camille's lips to make her stop trying to cut him off, even though he wasn't sure she was actually trying to. Music was playing a little louder than he remembered before they started on the wine and he had to talk over it.
She just laughed anyway, and nodded. "Okay, okay, I'm listening, Logan."
"Because doctors… doctors help people, so I can elbow someone in the ribs playing hockey and then bandage them up because I'll just be nice like that," he explained, then stopped, blinking a little and glancing around the party.
People were mostly broken off into groups now. There was a girl on the couch with some people who had asked to kiss Logan earlier in the evening; he'd politely (and smartly) declined. A group of guys who had been very friendly and loud with Logan were standing off in the kitchen snacking. Now, one of them had come much closer to kissing Logan than the girl; he'd taken Logan's face in his hands and leaned in for a kiss, maybe joking, maybe not, but either way, Logan had ducked away in forced laughter. Why was he trying so hard not to feel any other lips on his? Not like he had any commitments anymore. Not like he didn't want the closeness. It was what he wanted, wasn't it? To get his mind off James?
He couldn't do it, though, no matter how many offers he got—and he'd gotten quite a few since the wine bottles had been opened, and one or two before. These actors were frisky people. It made sense; Camille was one of them.
"Wait, what are we talking about?" he asked, refocusing on Camille with a series of rapid blinks.
Camille smiled understandingly. She'd clearly been waiting for Logan to return to the conversation before saying anything. "I asked you about the texts. You said James wouldn't leave you alone, then you said something like you and he used to be friends, then you started talking about hockey, then about how dangerous it was, then you had to defend that by saying you would be a doctor someday," she explained and Logan closed his eyes tight as he listened in an attempt to block out his other senses.
Logan slowly opened his eyes again when she finished up. "…oh," he said, then he took out his phone without thinking about it to look at it. Yeah… he had missed texts from James again, but only a couple.
He tried to think how many hours it had been since he was in the bathroom texting James. It felt like only half an hour, max. But his phone read 3:21AM and he groaned. It couldn't have been past eleven when he was in the bathroom.
"You got more?" Camille asked, raising her eyebrows curiously, but also sympathetically.
Logan swallowed and nodded, wondering if he should read them or not. He felt Camille's hand on his arm and looked up. "Logan… I know you're smart and you probably don't need my advice, but please just try to understand what's going through James' mind. Maybe he really does miss you. Trust me… I know what he's feeling. You're easy to miss," she said, almost impossible to hear towards the end over that weirdly loud music. She has this sad sort of smile. He sort of wished he still wanted to hook up with her tonight. He probably could have at that point… except he had to remind himself that Camille was still fairly sober.
"Thanks, Camille…" he said, though he couldn't entirely remember what he was thanking her for. "Hey, I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back soon," he told her, stepping around her and towards the hallway.
Camille grabbed his sleeve clumsily, though. "Logan. Remember. Try to understand," she said, and Logan stared at her. Her eyes were big and serious and she was clearly waiting for a verbal response.
Finally, he just nodded and said, "Okay." Only then did she let go of him and he retreated to the bathroom, which was thankfully vacant.
Logan had told Camille he'd be back soon, but the way the hours had been passing, he couldn't be sure how long he'd actually be in there. He didn't even have to go. As soon as he shut the door, he slumped against it and slid to the floor, pulling his phone out again. It was hard to look at the screen, because it swam a little, but he held it close to his nose so it couldn't go anywhere. That made sense, right?
kendall n carlito fell sleep on th couch waitin 4 u 2 cum home ur still at that partyy?
r u havin funn?
ur windo wuz open n it started 2 rain real hard so i closed it 4 u
James had closed his window for him…
Logan carefully checked the time. 3:45AM. When did that happen? The last text had arrived over twenty minutes ago. He concentrated hard and squinted in order to text back.
The door behind Logan rattled lightly with knocking. "Logan? Are you in there?" he heard Camille on the other side.
He blinked, swallowing as he lifted his head. He was tucked into the corner against the door and his head ached dully where he'd been resting it against the wall. He felt lightly dizzy still, but his vision wasn't swimming. His phone said 4:37AM—it also said James (2), but he didn't even think to read those—and he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. If Kendall were to wake up and realize Logan wasn't home yet, he was dead. At least he didn't seem to have any missed calls, so he was safe for now.
Logan dragged himself off the floor by the door handle and opened it. Camille was standing there, looking like she was about to continue her search elsewhere, but looked relieved when she saw Logan. "Logan! Oh, geez, I'm so glad. I was worried about you. I haven't been able to find you for, like, an hour. Are you alright?"
He rubbed his eyes, trying to keep up with as much as she was speaking. Maybe she wasn't actually saying that much, but it felt like a lot to comprehend. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. I think I… fell asleep, actually," he said, a little embarrassed.
Camille smiled softly, though, taking his elbow to lead him and putting her arm around his back. "Let's get you home, soldier," she said quietly, and then Logan noticed the music had died down and he could actually hear her now. He wasn't entirely sure why she was calling him soldier, but he figured it had a lot with how he did sort of feel as though he'd been fighting a war. For a long time, actually.
He didn't really see anything on the way out of the party and to the limo, but that was probably because his eyes were closed for most of the journey. The next thing Logan knew, he was laying in the limo with his head on his hands in Camille's lap. She was touching his hair gently and saying something to someone else who was apparently in the limo, but they were quiet, probably for his sake.
He wasn't sick. He wasn't even tired. But he was sick and tired…
Logan's phone was still in his hand and he lifted it heavily to look. James (2).
3:51AM. k ill stay up n wait
4:40AM. dude its almost 5 where r u?
Then Logan felt a little bad. Or a lot bad, but he pretended it was only a little. He hadn't meant to make James worry. Not that he thought James was really all that worried; he was probably just impatient for Logan to get home and find him naked in his bed.
…no. James wasn't that shallow. Logan shouldn't have let himself have thoughts like that. They were mean and cynical and James was still his friend, wasn't he? But it was just so hard to go back to being friends when Logan felt the way he did, even if James never had. It sucked that he had to get drunk to admit to himself how he really felt.
Logan quickly texted on my way now to James before he let his hands drop and turned his face against Camille's knees. She responded by lacing her fingers into his hair and massaging gently.
Logan and Camille only parted as the elevator reached the second floor of the Palmwoods. Logan thanked her for the evening and gave her a sleepy goodbye, but as he went to hug her, she didn't let go. "Do you remember what I said, Logan?" she asked and he sighed, about to say, 'Of course I remember, will you let me go to bed?'
But he didn't remember so he shook his head against her neck. She hummed a short chuckle and just said, "Try talking to James. Try to understand."
Logan wanted to argue, but he was too tired of it all to get in it with Camille, especially after she'd taken care of him tonight. So he just nodded, unsure what words he would even respond to that with.
When he got to the apartment, Logan was slow and quiet to come inside, not wanting to alert anyone of how late he'd been out. Just as James had said, Kendall and Carlos were both passed out on the couch with Carlos curled up as much in Kendall's lap as he possibly could be. Kendall was slumped somewhat against the back of the couch, but mostly on Carlos. It looked as though it should have been uncomfortable, but Logan swallowed something down, because he would have liked that sort of closeness anyway. For a moment, he considered just clamoring onto the couch to snuggle up with them. But he shook himself and headed to his bedroom. He would only wake them up and then Kendall would be pissed with Logan for not only waking him up, but for staying out so long.
Logan yawned as he opened the door to his bedroom. He didn't turn on the lights, just shuffled for the bed, ready to collapse.
However, when he collapsed, he landed on more than just his mattress. The body on his bed gave a pained grunt at having been fallen on and Logan jumped back up, suddenly awake, to hit the light switch.
James stirred and sat up, rubbing his ribs where Logan figured his elbow had struck. "James? What the hell are you doing in here?" he hissed, careful not to let his voice get too loud.
James raised his eyebrows. "I told you earlier. Like… way earlier," he explained, and Logan blinked, trying to remember. He eyed James and noticed he was wearing Logan's pajamas and then it came back to him.
"Okay," he growled. "What the hell are you doing in here still?"
James shrugged and, instead of getting out of Logan's bed as Logan would have preferred, he laid back, holding his hands behind his head and propping a knee up comfortably. "I told you I'd wait for you."
"I thought you said you'd taken them off," he said, gesturing widely at James wearing his night clothes.
"I put them back on."
Logan just groaned at that and came slowly back to the bed, sitting on the edge as far away from James as he could get, and rubbed his forehead. He was definitely sobering up, but his brain was still pretty foggy, the combination of tiredness and alcohol and frustration coming together to make a sour cocktail. James sat up a little, staring intently and Logan heard him sniff a little. "…Logan, have you been drinking?" he asked.
"A little bit," he answered honestly, though it wasn't exactly James' business. "Just wine."
"You look a little pale," James said, not sounding all that concerned as he laid back. "Are you going to be sick?"
Logan huffed and took his hand away to give James a hard look. "No," he snapped. "I'm just tired—of—of this!" He gestured at James laying there on his bed. "Of you being like this!"
James' smug look faded into something that was maybe hurt, and Logan bit his lip as he remembered what Camille had said. To try and understand James. That maybe he really did just miss Logan.
He sighed. "Thanks for shutting my window…"
James' eyes weren't on him anymore, but on the bedding. He just nodded, didn't respond.
And then the silence ensued. As opposed to how he'd felt earlier in the evening, when time moved faster than reality, time suddenly got a lot slower for Logan. He felt like this quietness was going to last for days. Until finally, James said, without looking up, "We're alone."
Logan raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then he frowned a little. He wasn't sure what James meant by that. What he used to mean was that they could do whatever they wanted, make out, fool around, screw—Logan still couldn't even think the word that James used for it.
But the way James had said it this time, with his eyes downcast to the bed, no suggestion in his voice, no mischievous sparkle in his eyes…
He'd shut Logan's window for him so no rain would come in.
Before he even got a chance to let his brain tell him how wrong it was, Logan was on top of James, pressing their mouths together, holding James' face in his hands, knees situated on either side of James' hips—he couldn't think fast enough to keep up with all his body parts.
James made a surprised yelp when Logan's mouth hit his, but he didn't push Logan off of him or fight the kiss. Logan knew he wouldn't. He just let Logan kiss him for a moment before his hands found their way to Logan's waist, gently, tentatively, and if Logan didn't know James at all, he would say it was uncertainty. But was James ever uncertain about anything he did?
Logan got the answer to his question when he felt James make a noise against his mouth and break their lips apart. "Logan—" Logan refused to let him stop this, though, and dove back in, shoving his tongue against James' until James growled and pushed Logan gently at his waist, forcing them apart. "Logan!"
"What!" Logan snapped back, not understanding in the least why James would try to stop this. This was all he'd wanted through their whole relationship, what he'd very obviously been working at through texts all evening. Why was he fighting it now that Logan was ready to give it to him?
"What are you doing?" James asked, voice low and eyes solemn.
Logan kept the eyelock with him for a few moments before answering just as seriously, "You shut my window for me. So that it wouldn't rain in my room."
There was a second and James frowned, turning that over in his head. "What does that mean?" he finally asked, and Logan felt like they asked each other that way too often. It was sort of horrible, because that was what he remembered most from the day they'd broken up.
"It means I want to kiss you, okay? It means I want you to kiss me," he said, maybe a little harshly. He had no clue what it meant he wanted after that, but he was honest at least. At this moment, he did want James to kiss him.
And after a moment of what looked like serious contemplation, James gave a short nod, barely readable, and pressed his lips hard into Logan's again.
Logan was sober now, he swore he was—okay, soberer—but he was feeling dizzier and dizzier the longer he felt James' mouth, wet and slick, his tongue rolling persistently against his own, their teeth clacking together a little painfully every so often, but Logan didn't care because it felt good.
He'd missed this. He'd missed it so much that now he had it back, there was a deep pleasure that was actually almost pain in the middle of his stomach and he wasn't sure what to do with it. He wondered if James could feel it as his hands wandered from his sides, under his shirt, and up his stomach slowly, to his chest. Logan shuddered, because he was ticklish and James knew that. But he'd missed that, too; James' hands on him, feeling, rubbing back down his chest and around his sides to his back. He'd missed James' hands.
And his taste… James tasted like how his house back in Minnesota smelled. Underneath the manspray and hair product and tanning oil, James tasted like home, like big oak trees and autumn hay barrels and crisp winter. Logan wondered if that was part of the reason he'd fallen for him in the first place… No, he didn't wonder. He knew it was. He also knew what the pleasure-pain in his stomach was.
James was unbuttoning Logan's shirt and pushing it off over his shoulders and Logan let him. His own hands were fisted up in James' shirt and as James put his mouth wetly on Logan's neck, he also took Logan by the wrists and urged his hands to the hem of his shirt. Logan quickly got the hint and tore James' shirt—his shirt, really—upwards without hesitation. James made a surprised noise, but in no time, they were shirtless together, mouths locked and hands everywhere.
God, did Logan miss this.
He dropped his hands quickly between them to rub at James' crotch, coaxing out a hushed moan into his own mouth. He suddenly didn't mind that James had stolen his PJs and was wearing them now. It gave Logan much easier access to get to all the things he'd missed so much.
Just because he'd gotten on James about only wanting to be with him when they had sex didn't mean that he didn't enjoy those times and miss them.
He smirked a little and muttered good-humoredly, "You're going commando… in my PJ pants. Really, James?"
James just chuckled and wrapped his arms around Logan, hands on his ass to pull him closer. Logan made a noise and shifted. He needed to get his jeans off. He gave James one last kiss on the lips, quick, but not too quick, a little lick across his bottom lip as he pulled away, crawling off James' lap to unbutton the jeans James had assured him almost twelve hours ago were classy enough to wear to a Hollywood party. They were tight. It had been uncomfortable straddling James' lap in them, feeling them ride up between his thighs, causing friction he wanted coming from something else tight.
He muttered a stand-in curse word as he struggled with the jeans and eventually had to stand up off the bed. All the better, anyway, because he'd forgotten to remove his shoes and this gave him the opportunity to toe them off. And then it was much easier to yank his socks off and then shuck his jeans from the bottom.
When he was finally down to his boxers, he looked up, kneeling back onto the bed, and his eyes landed on James, laying there with his knees spread, palming himself through Logan's pajama pants. Logan swallowed. Despite rumors, James Diamond like this wasn't something many people got the opportunity to see, and Logan felt that pleasure-pain again. He hesitated, squeezing his eyes shut.
For only a second, really, and he felt James' hands on his face. "Are you okay? You're not going to be sick, are you?"
Logan smiled and lifted his hands to cover James', keeping his eyes shut. "I told you I'm sober now."
"You could still get sick…" James explained and Logan opened his eyes heavily, just in time to see James' face very, very close before he kissed Logan, licking into his mouth. It was brief and James broke it off to say, "You taste like that wine we had at the album release party… the sweet stuff…"
Logan smirked, speaking as he closed the space again. "That's 'cause it's the same thing. I know you liked it and… I don't know, I was thinking about you a lot tonight…" He kissed James again before he got the chance to respond, but he could feel James smiling against his lips. He hadn't really planned on admitting that, that a majority of what he'd talked about, particularly with Camille, had been James.
"I do like it," James muttered quietly.
Logan's hands found their way up into James' hair, somehow trying to pull him even closer, get him deeper, feel him more. James wrapped his arms around Logan's waist and pulled him in, between his legs. With Logan up on his knees on the mattress, his stomach was against James' chest and he had his head bowed to kiss James, moving one hand up to hold his cheek. This closeness… Logan sighed again, the pleasure-pain in his stomach slowly becoming more of a sign of need.
He made a noise before pulling away. "I want to—" he managed before James kissed him again, mimicking Logan's interruptions earlier. But he parted again and nodded, showing he understood what Logan was going to say.
Logan moved back from James again, this time a bit reluctantly. The slightly empty feeling at parting didn't last, though, because then Logan could grab the pajama pants at the sides and yanked them down, earning a gasp from James, either from the sudden cold air on him or the eagerness of the action. When Logan missed James, he really missed all of James, no matter that they'd fought over this.
In a quick motion, Logan adjusted to bend over, practically diving down to get his mouth to James' dick, slipping his lips over the end and swirling his tongue around. It was almost habit, a sort of drill they'd worked up in the bedroom. James more often than not got a blowjob first, it was just sort of something Logan had gotten used to and surprised himself by remember to go straight to first.
It also surprised Logan that James was saying "No, no, no, no, no," all fast and pushing up on Logan's shoulders. Logan sat up as he was instructed, frowning at James somewhere between confusion and concern. "No," James said again, this time more solid, holding Logan by the shoulders. "I was… not good to you, I don't deserve that." Logan's mouth dropped open and he took a breath to say something, although he had nothing planned. "Let me," James added, sliding his hands down from Logan's shoulders along his chest to his hips, where he worked the waistband of Logan's underwear down.
Logan wasn't sure what was going on, because James had never been concerned with whether or not he actually deserved the things he got before, but he wasn't going to argue. If James wanted to suck him off, why on earth would he fight that? So he sat up on his knees and let James take his boxers off of him, let him fling them aside, and let himself think that was super hot.
James guided Logan back, pulled his knees up, spreading them, and Logan held himself up with his arms slightly behind him. James, naked and freaking gorgeous, went down between Logan's thighs, giving a good, long lick along the underside his dick before using his tongue to help it into his mouth. Logan moaned, but kept it quiet. He and James had practiced this enough to know how to suppress their noise. Logan knew Kendall and Carlos were fast asleep, but the right-pitched moan could wake one of them up and the last thing Logan thought he needed was for them to know this was happening.
Whatever this was. A hook-up? A one-night-stand? It couldn't be them getting back together… James didn't want that. And Logan didn't want to get hurt again.
No, he just wanted the pleasure part of that pleasure-pain. Just for now. The closeness was good for now.
James took Logan deep, Logan could feel James' tongue on the underside of his dick, pressing gently as he came back up. He sucked lightly on the tip, something he knew from experience made Logan shiver, and Logan allowed himself to fall back on the bed, his head hanging off the foot of it. He dropped a hand to his forehead and forced himself to breathe.
He couldn't see James now—probably for the better. If he saw James' mouth sliding up and down along his cock, could see his jaw moving as he worked his tongue, he may not have been able to hold off his orgasm. And he wanted this to last, he wanted to get to the good part. Maybe James didn't deserve anything, but Logan still wanted to give it to him.
When Logan felt his skin start to tingle, felt himself start to get buzzed off of James, he pushed himself up on his elbows, saying, "Okay, okay, you've gotta stop, I've gotta… I'm gonna…" He panted, shifting under James' mouth as he pulled off, sucking very gently on the way up. He definitely understood, especially as Logan sat up fully. The weight on the bed switching like a scale, Logan crawling and going over James, easing him back onto the pillows. It all felt very sweet and romantic until James crudely pushed his hips upward, grinded his dick against Logan's, but not that Logan minded much… it felt good. It felt close.
His mouth found its way to James' and his hand found its way between James' legs, feeling past his dick to his ass and fingering gently. But after a moment, James shook his head, force-breaking the kiss. "Huh-uh, stop, just do it," he said, reaching for the bedside table and yanking the drawer open. He clearly remembered where Logan kept the lube and Logan was grateful that James didn't smirk in all smugness when he found that Logan hadn't moved it.
"What do you mean 'just do it?'" Logan asked as he felt the bottle pressed into his palm. Still, as he looked down at James with a frown, he was squeezing a little onto his hand and warming it up thoughtlessly.
"I mean 'just do it,'" James said, leaning up to kiss Logan again. He broke away with Logan's bottom lip held gently between his teeth and let go. "I've missed you."
That made Logan's hands still and he stared at James for a few moments. Maybe more than a few. Maybe a whole minute. Maybe five. James' eyes were earnest and sweet, but they were also right in the heat of this, Logan situated between James' open legs, breath hot, sweat hot, everything hot… Logan didn't know whether or not he should trust the feeling in his stomach, the words that fought at his closed lips.
He decided to fight it and lowered his eyes to his hands. He slicked up his dick and pressed at James' entrance with two fingers of his other, out of courtesy, even though James was apparently adamant about "just do it," to the point of saying something like he missed Logan.
Logan did as he was instructed and just did it. He guided himself into James slowly, listening to the long, slightly-vocalized gasp as James arched his head back. They hadn't done this in a long while. At least, Logan hadn't. He didn't know about James. He didn't ask.
He didn't want to think about that, however, not here with his dick deep inside James, in all the heat and applied wetness. He knew James was waiting for him to move, but he didn't want to, he didn't want to push it. He lowered his mouth onto James' very exposed neck, licking lightly into a kiss, then continued laying them all down and along James' throat. Only after he felt JamesS give little shuddering moans at the feeling did he move his hips some, slowly, tenderly, even. He pulled out and pushed back in at such a pace that he was almost driving himself crazy. He could feel that it was doing worse to James.
"Faster…" James instructed in a husk whisper, but Logan shook his head.
"No," he said firmly, resulting in an almost-pained moan from James. When they were together, James had gotten everything he wanted, Logan had given him everything. Now that he had this chance, had James underneath him, needy, Logan was going to get what he wanted.
He kept his movements slow and steady for some time longer, drawing out more and more whines from James until Logan had to take his mouth off James' neck and shift his hand over James' mouth, saying, "Shh…" But James shut his eyes, eyebrows drawn together, and moaned against Logan's hand. After that sort of reaction, Logan couldn't help picking up speed a little. He thrust a little harder into James, earning more moans, shorter ones, into Logan's hand.
Logan felt the pleasure-pain combine with something more familiar as he moved in James, realizing he was getting his angle just right with the way James was panting and whining and moving a little under him. But Logan knew he needed to work harder if he wanted James to get that familiar feeling as well. The hand not held over James' mouth wrapped around James' dick between them and began stroking roughly. James tried to moan louder, but Logan kept his hand firmly on his mouth and, again, hissed, "Shh!"
His stomach was tightening and he had to suppress the noises he wanted to make, because both his hands were occupied and he knew James wasn't going to cover his mouth, especially not with the ways his fingers were curling into the sheets. He could feel everything becoming tense, heat in his hip joints, and bit his own lip to shut himself up.
Coming in James wasn't something Logan was necessarily used to. Usually, he pulled out, or was actually smart and wore a condom. He'd only done this a couple times and he'd forgotten how good it felt to actually climax and spill enveloped in that tight heat and he knew James could feel it, too. He gave an extra few hard thrusts as he stroked James until he felt wetness spilling over his hand and a deep gasp against his other one.
They held like that, Logan staying inside James despite being spent and sensitive, and his hand pressing against James' mouth. Only when James' eyes fluttered open and he gazed up into Logan's with… something… in them… only then did Logan pull out and slip his hand off from over James' mouth. He didn't get off of James, though, mostly because James wrapped his arms up around Logan and pulled him down, hugging him tight.
"I've missed you…" James whispered again, holding Logan's head against his shoulder, and Logan blinked. There was a sticky mess on his hand and both their stomachs now, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He brought his clean hand up to touch James' arm, adjusting his legs so they fit right together. He knew he had to get up, clean off, address what had just happened, but he didn't want to.
He didn't even want to speak, didn't want to use his voice, but James asked, "Did you miss me?" all quiet, tentative, maybe a little scared of what the answer might be.
Logan swallowed and gently pushed himself up, forced his way out of James' arms. He crawled back and off the bed, going to his dirty laundry for his towel from earlier in the evening. Showering before his date with Camille seemed like weeks ago. His date itself had seemed even longer. And that didn't make sense…
Pale sunlight was leaking between the blinds. Logan didn't know when the rain had stopped, but the sun shed white light into the room now as Logan cleaned himself off. He turned when he was done, covering himself with the towel, to see James sitting up on his elbows and looking at Logan with this sort of sadness Logan hadn't seen since… well, since they'd broken up.
"You… didn't miss me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Logan dropped his chin and hesitated, then shook his head. He came back to the bed to sit down and pull his boxers back on, handing James the towel as he did so. "I did miss you," he said, clearly and firmly. "But we broke up… for a reason, James." It hurt Logan's stomach to say. It was that feeling in his stomach starting to feel more like pain and less like pleasure. What it meant was still the same, but it hurt more now.
James dropped the towel between his legs as he sat up, staring intently at Logan. He could feel it, even if he wasn't looking at him. He defended himself quickly, words coming out fast. "I know, I know, we broke up because of me. You were right, Logan. I… I didn't want to commit, I was—" He broke off, mouth moving wordlessly before he shut it and swallowed.
Logan resisted the urge to curl in on himself and looked hard at James. "You were what, James?" James looked like he was going to have a panic attack. His eyes were wide, his breathing was picking up again, but Logan just wanted him to finish the sentence. "You were what?" he asked again, a little sharper.
"I was scared!" James spat out, and he actually looked scared of that very moment, too.
Logan swallowed. He realized he'd been doing that out of nervousness all night, even before he'd come into his room and found James there. He had missed James. So much it hurt. So much it gave him that feeling in his stomach, and he knew what that feeling meant, but he was scared, too.
Still, he said it. "James… I love you." James' eyes widened a little and he seemed to pale and Logan wondered if he was going to be sick. He barreled on anyway. "I love you and I broke up with you because—because I didn't want to keep loving you without you loving me back. And—a-and—" James suddenly grabbed Logan's arms as his mouth met Logan's. And Logan didn't even feel like pulling out of his hold, he just squeezed his eyes shut and let James kiss him. It felt good. Like a response he'd been needing for weeks. Why couldn't James have done that when they broke up? Why couldn't he have shut Logan up and stopped all that pain from happening?
When he broke away, James didn't move too far from Logan, seeming ready to go back in if he needed to. "Give me another chance, Logan? Please." The desperation in his voice reminded Logan of himself and he stared into James' eyes, taking him in, trying to read how serious he was.
He should have known he wouldn't see anything besides sincerity. James didn't know how to lie about his feelings.
"Did you really miss me?" Logan asked, feeling as though he was having trouble finding his footing. He didn't know why this felt so much like falling.
James immediately nodded emphatically. "Yes! Yes, God, Logan, I've missed you more than anything. I mean, you've been here, but you haven't been here and… I've just missed you."
Logan didn't want to give himself any time to think, even though he knew he should. But thinking would only cheat him out of what he wanted at this point. He felt his chest tighten a little as he gave a short nod. "I'll… you can have another chance," he said, and quickly added seriously, "But don't you dare screw me over here, James."
It was a slow realization, but James' eyes soon lit up. "I—I won't! No, Logan, I won't, I swear!" And his arms were around Logan tight, holding onto him like he was going to try and get away. But this time, Logan wasn't trying to get out. James chuckled lightly and said into Logan's neck, "I mean, I might screw you, but…"
Logan couldn't help smiling and gave James a light shove. "You're ridiculous…" he whispered, but he still didn't try to get out of James' tight hold, even as James pulled him back to lay down. "You're not wearing pants…" Logan reminded James, pulling the towel off him and dropping it over the edge of the bed to the floor.
"I don't care," James muttered, going in to kiss Logan again and Logan fisted his hand up in the sheets between them. Until, at least, he felt James' hand over his fist and he adjusted it to allow James to lace their fingers together.
Dewey morning light crawled onto them as James pulled up the comforter to Logan's shoulders. Logan didn't think they could ever be perfect, not him and James, not the way they fought, not the way they… did it (no, he still couldn't think the word.) But James had this achingly sweet honesty to everything he did, everything he'd done all night, that made Logan's stomach ache pleasurably in what he knew was just what love felt like. And for that reason he had no doubt that they would have any trouble being alone together now.