A/N: just a random lil oneshot about Cargan. Um, loosely inspired by one of my favorite animes. Don't sue! Using with love :D Other than that, enjoy :D
Logan was a stalker.
Okay, maybe that was a bit extreme. After all, it wasn't like he was following the guy around town, hiding in the bushes outside his house—or apartment or whatever it was he lived in—or going through the guy's trash. He just saw the male when he went to the library. Which was every day.
And really, that couldn't be helped. Preparing for med school meant a lot of studying, a lot of homework, a lot of "really big words that no one understands, dude", as his best friend James put it. So, in order to do his massive amount of school work and studying—a near impossibility with Jett freaking Stetson as a dormmate—he chose to go to the library for the peace and quiet it provided, along with the extensive amount of reference books that he require to do his work.
All right, he could actually study in his own dorm at times. Jett did tend to stay out all night partying or hooking up with whatever random sorority bimbo that would even spare a passing glance at the egotistical jerk. And, yes, there was Google and WebMD and other websites online that could provide him with the same wealth of knowledge that the library held.
But the internet didn't have Carlos.
Which brought him back to the stalking. Okay, not stalking. Spying maybe? Yeah, spying worked and seemed…less…creepy, yeah, he wasn't convincing himself of that. It was creepy. And if he were Carlos, he'd be freaked out at this random loser who continually showed up during his shift and spent more time looking at the worker than his actual books.
Such serious issues.
But Logan couldn't help it. Every time he caught sight of Carlos' tan face, those big brown eyes, that smile, his breath literally just left him. His heart would start pounding and his stomach would churn and his palms would sweat. The first time it happened, he had no clue what was going on, scared that maybe something was medically wrong with him. But after doing hours of research in his text books and online, he concluded that nothing was off, he was perfectly okay. Maybe a mild panic attack or a spell of..something, he didn't know what. He wrote it off as an occurrence that happened once and never again.
Only it happened again.
And he finally realized it wasn't an illness or disorder or anything that could be found in a text book of any form. He had a crush.
Usually having knowledge of something made Logan feel more at ease. He could tackle the problem, could figure out the best, quickest, and most efficient way to solve it, easily taking care of everything. But with this, he was clueless, a first for the self-proclaimed genius. Dealing with a crush was never a breeze, but being gay made it more difficult. You never knew if the person you were into was of the same sexual orientation, if they were disgusted by homosexuality, if they were serious about same sex relationships or curious or wanted to try it out as some sort of college bucket list thing.
God knew Logan had already been a victim of that one with his freshman roommate Dak.
But this was the first really big crush that the med student had, the first one that wasn't just a physical thing, wasn't just a "ooh, he's cute! Wouldn't mind seven minutes in heaven with those lips." It was deep down, that sort of stupid crush that made you all giddy, that caused you to stare unabashedly at their every move, your face flushing when you're caught, that had you going to sleep thinking about them and waking up the same way. He had more than one daydream about how it would feel to touch that caramel colored skin, if it was as soft and as smooth as it looked. He wondered about the other male's hands, if they were soft or calloused, what they would feel like cupped in his own. He imagined kissing those lips, feeling the other male's tongue against his own. He fantasized about those teeth on his skin, his neck, his collarbone, lower, lower still, to the point where he had to stop or risk an embarrassing state in his khakis as he sat at the table.
But mostly, he dreamt about his voice. Logan had heard it a few times in passing, when the Latino was talking to other students in the library, his co-workers. The brunet loved it. Nothing made his heart soar, his pulse race, or his stomach clench like the other male's vocals, his words, his laugh. He could spend hours just listening to him talk, imagined it actually happening. The brunet could perfectly picture them cuddled up in a bed, a nice warm comforter over them, legs tangled as they just conversed about anything and everything, about life, about school, about their days, about what kind of cat to get. He could imagine playing with the other male's fingers as he listened to the Latino ramble about the happenings in the library, his other hand stroking that soft black hair, eyes focused on those lips as the other male spoke.
Geeze, he had a mouth fetish with that guy, didn't he? But he couldn't help it really. He just loved looking at it, seeing those lips move as they formed the perfect words, hearing his voice change inflections to match the mood of what he was saying, viewing those perfect white teeth as they showed during a huge child-like grin. He wanted to wake up to that mouth telling him "good morning", go to sleep with it saying "good night". He wanted to hear that voice on his cell throughout the day, for no reason other than "Oh, I didn't have anything to say, I just wanted to hear you. Miss you." He wanted…god, he just wanted Carlos.
But Logan didn't have him. Because he was scared. Scared of rejection, of heartbreak, of hearing that super sweet voice telling him that he's not into guys or that Logan isn't his type or worse. Of listening to Carlos laugh at him for actually thinking the little science nerd had a shot with someone like the Latino.
So, Logan kept quiet, kept his feelings to himself, not letting anyone know. Not Jett, not James, and especially not Carlos.
Didn't mean he couldn't still admire the guy from afar.
Which was what he did. Daily. It was a routine he had down pat. After his final class, he'd head back to his dorm, hoping to not find a sock or tie or some other clothing item hanging on his doorknob alerting him that the room was currently occupied by Jett and whatever female he was trying to bed. After grabbing whatever necessities were needed, he'd head to the student union, get a coffee, then go on his way to the library.
And he'd sit at the same table, near the back, one that gave him the perfect view of the entire library, so that no matter where Carlos was working or what he was doing, Logan could see. Providing the Latino wasn't in between aisles of course.
And, yes, he went there to study and for peace and to be able to get copious amounts of work done. Yes, he bought the coffee to keep him alert and awake so he could do just that. But instead, he'd find himself scanning the large open building, rather than scanning his textbooks, looking for the male instead of the answers he needed. And he could admit that it was definitely creepy and unhealthy and he needed to stop before he was arrested for stalking or leering or harassment.
But he just couldn't help himself. Watching Carlos was like an addiction and he needed a fix with glances, with overheard words, with eavesdropped giggles. He needed the adrenaline he felt when his heart raced like that. He desired the knots in his stomach, wanted the sweaty palms, ached for the tightness in his chest. It was too much, but not enough.
And so, once again, at 3:24 on the dot, he had seated himself in his usual chair, back to the windows, the sun shining through the glass but doing little to warm him up. It was a chilly fall, meaning it would be an even colder winter, and Logan was both looking forward to it and dreading it simultaneously. His black backpack was on his right, unzipped, the textbook and spiral notebook he needed out in front of him, open to the pages he required.
Only he wasn't looking at them.
Sure, his pen was in his hand and his bottom lip was between his teeth—his usual habit whilst thinking—but he wasn't doing any of the necessary work for his anatomy class. No, instead, his chocolate brown eyes were on Carlos, watching as he wheeled an old squeaky cart full of books down the row of shelves by the open area of tables.
And, geeze, was he adorable! That huge grin on his face, saying "hi" to everyone he passed or whom passed him, but keeping his voice low to be respectful of everyone else. He bobbed his head to whatever song was playing in his head, shimmying when he stopped walking, book in hand, eyes trained on the shelves as he tried to find the right place for it.
Which happened to be by the bottom.
Which meant he was bending over. Not crouching down, as what was right in order to not hurt one's back. No, he was bending over.
Logan's lips parted, eyebrows raising, as he took in the sight. Carlos' khaki shorts—which were totally wrong to wear on that chilly day, he could get sick—tightened over a perfect butt. A full butt. A butt that would be so easy to grab, so easy to part those rounded cheeks, so easy to take his tongue and—
The brunet cut his thought off, shooting up to his feet so fast that he unintentionally knocked his chair with the back of his knees, causing a horrible noise to fill the open area as it fell onto its back. Everyone turned to look at him: the few students scattered throughout the plentiful tables, the two co-eds at the end of an aisle, shared book between them. And Carlos.
Face hot, the pre-med student knew he was blushing, knew he was as red as the cover of his notebook. Without a word, he turned to the left and briskly walked off, covering the side of his face with his hand. He was so freaking embarrassed. Bad enough he had the beginnings of yet another erection caused by a male he'd never have, but now everyone was staring at him for a sound he'd inadvertently made, judging the scrawny loser in the button down and sweater vest as he sped away from the scene of the crime.
He had never been suicidal but for the first time the thought "oh, God, kill me now" crossed his mind.
At the other side of the library, Logan took the stairs to the second level, the one of older classics, first editions, the place were no other student went unless it was dark outside and they wanted a hook-up. Basically, a place where he never really went that was currently deserted, which was what he really wanted. Solitude, a hideaway, a place where he could bury his head in the ground like an ostrich and wait for it to be over.
Which was a physical impossibility, so instead he headed to the opposite end of the library, still finding it empty, and went straight to the back corner. Turning around, he leaned back, head against the wood where the shelves met, closing his eyes. He knew he wasn't the smoothest guy around, had always been awkward and scrawny and nerdy. The fact that his most exercised muscle was his brain just added to that image. Combine that with the fact that his best friend of over nearly two decades was Mr. Smooth and he was pretty much the stereotypical loser. But never had he been so embarrassed in his entire life.
He let out a groan, covering his face as his eye shut tight. God, the one time, the one time Carlos had noticed him, and it was because of that. And he just happened to have half a hard on to boot. Just. Terrific.
Logan's eyes shot open as his hands dropped, along with his jaw. He'd recognized that voice anywhere, had obsessed over it for months. And as he lowered his head to look, he saw he was right. Of all the people in the world to follow him, it had to be Carlos.
For the second time in his life, he wished for God to just end him.
A slightly worried expression was on the Latino's face as he stood a few feet away, friendly smile showing, as it always was. His body language was a cautious one, not entirely sure what to make of the brunet or how to react. And wow if that didn't make Logan fall for the guy more, loving the way he seemed to genuinely care and how he appeared to not want to upset the taller male.
The smile started to falter on Carlos' face and he pointed behind himself with his thumb. "I'll just go if you wa—"
"Yes." Logan finally located his voice, finally pulled himself out of the stupor of confusion and gratitude at the other male's presence. Only to realize his reply was meant for Carlos' first statement, and not the second one, and that things were about to get mixed up. Or already had, judging by the sadness that fell over the Latino's face.
"I mean, yes, I'm okay, but you don't have to go. Well, you can if you want, it's a free country. No one's forcing you to stay or anything. But if you choose to leave, that's fine, but if you choose to stay that's also fine, and wow, am I rambling right now." Logan forced himself to stop speaking, letting out a nervous laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck, further feeling embarrassed and awkward.
He wasn't cut out for this. He had trouble enough communicating with people who were good looking—not counting James because he'd known the pretty boy practically his whole life, and his roommate Jett whose annoying habits and egotistical behavior had quickly canceled out the physical appeal of his facial structure—but trying to hold a normal conversation with the guy he'd wanted more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life was just an extreme possibility.
Carlos let out an amused laugh, dark eyes sparkling, that trademark wide grin of his plastered on his face. "You sure you're okay? 'Cause usually I'm the one talking a mile a minute and rambling on about nothing."
"Yeah, I know." It slipped out before the brunet could even think, but as soon as it was out there, his own chocolate colored eyes widened in shock, embarrassment taking over for the millionth time in the past two minutes. "I mean, I don't know. I'll just take your word for it. It's not like I'm spying on you or listening in on your conversations or anything." He started laughing as he spoke and he felt like Tom Cruise when the actor lost his freaking mind on that episode of "Oprah".
Clearly scoring points with his crush.
"Why are you spying on me?"
"I'm not spying on you." He'd be more convincing if he wasn't doing that whole crazy guy laughing thing as he spoke. Again.
"You just said—"
"Forget what I just said," he interrupted, for once not caring about manners or going out of his way to be polite. "Just. Forget all of this, okay? We never spoke, you never saw me, none of this happened." He found himself wishing for Jedi powers so he could actually make the Latino do just that, make him forget everything, forget this awkward conversation and the embarrassing moment downstairs and, most of all, forget Logan.
But he couldn't do that—which just really sucked 'cause being a Jedi would be awesome—so instead, he did the only thing he could: he pushed away from the shelves and started walking off.
Only when he got to Carlos, the Latino reached out and grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Wait." His voice was soft, calm by Logan's right ear and the brunet had to hold back a shiver at it. Bad enough his arm was tingling where the other male held it.
Turning his head, the taller male met the shorter in his eyes, breathing becoming shaky, uneven, harsh. His heart was pounding and his stomach was flipping and he had no idea what the heck was going on. But he liked it. He knew that much was true.
He found his eyes drifting down, focusing on the Latino's lips, those lips he dreamt about, the ones he wanted to see speak, to hear form words, to feel kiss him. His tongue darted out to wet his own pair at just the thought of them caught in a heated lip lock, fisting each other's shirts, pelvises grinding together, moans being swallowed by the other's mouth.
The mental image had his half erection go full on in his khakis and he swallowed hard, before parting his lips, breathing still seeming to be an issue. He needed to go, needed to get the heck outta there before he somehow managed to miraculously embarrass himself even further. Which he seriously doubted was a possibility in the slightest.
But before he could extricate his arm from Carlos' grasp, the other male used his grip to turn him and push him back against the shelves. A gasp escaped the brunet's mouth, confusion setting in once more, never getting the chance to question what was happening. The Latino's lips were on his.
Logan's chocolate eyes went wide, shock freezing him in place, making him unable to react, other than several mental "OH MY GOD"s. Carlos, Carlos was kissing him. Holy…wow!
He snapped himself out of it, his brain screaming at him to do something, anything, instead of just standing there. So he did. His eyes drifted closed, lips becoming more pliant, moving against the other male's, small whimpers escaping him. Was this really happening? Was he actually kissing the man he'd been fantasizing about kissing for months? Was he awake right now, or was this just another dream?
He decided he didn't care, that he was just gonna go with it, see where the moment would take him. His arms wrapped around Carlos' back, fingers sprawled across the gray tee he was wearing, pulling him closer. And they fit perfectly, their chests perfectly aligned, Logan's arms perfectly holding him. It was meant to be, the brunet male just knew it.
Their pelvises also aligned in the right way, Carlos grinding against Logan's hard on and making him groan into his mouth.
The Latino pulled back, causing panic to overwhelm the taller male. Had he messed things up? Had he ruined the moment by being erect? Was the shorter male going to be totally disgusted with how hard he was and run off?
But the smirk on his tan face meant otherwise, if he was a good judge of character. "Hard already?" He grinned like a Cheshire cat, grinding his hips against the other male's.
Logan groaned more, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He didn't care if his dick didn't cooperate and if he got erect way too easy, way too fast. He just needed Carlos to keep doing what he was doing, the friction working wonders against him, causing the most delicious and amazing kind of tension inside that was miles better than his own hand and a bottle of lotion when he had the dorm to himself.
Carlos giggled, mouth attaching itself to Logan's neck, right above the carotid artery, sucking hard. More moans escaped the brunet, his hips bucking on automatic, seeking out more of the grind that was bringing him closer to orgasm. He wanted to come, needed to come, and needed Carlos to be the one to make him do it.
The bite the Latino chomped down on his neck nearly made it happen.
Eyes going wide once more, he let out a breathy "oh, God, Carlos" as they drifted closed like before. His hands went to the other male's dark hair, tangling in the short strands, pulling his head up so he could reconnect their lips.
This kiss was more passionate, more intense, driven more by sexual want and need. Logan felt the other male's hands drifting down to the bottom of his sweater vest, felt the material being pulled away from his torso and up. Pulling away from Carlos' lips was only okay because he was being ridden of the article of clothing, because he was being stripped, because he was getting closer to being naked with the male he wanted so bad it was hurting. Really hurting.
Hands on either side of Carlos' perfect face, they kissed once more, tongues tangling, battling for dominance, both moaning as their hips continued their bump and grind. The Latino was hard now, too, creating more pressure against Logan's erection, making him wish the clothing was gone and he could feel their cocks rubbing together. Although the friction from his jeans and briefs was pretty nice. But he had a feeling it would be nothing compared to the feel of the other male's dick on his, the sensitive soft skin of his on his partner's. The thought had him shivering, moaning.
And totally not realizing his shirt had been unbuttoned and the kiss ended.
Carlos' lips drifted down to Logan's chin, his neck, his throat, sucking at his adam's apple and apparently finding a new weak spot the brunet was complete unaware of. His eyes rolled to the back of his head once again, fingers gripping onto the other male's gray t-shirt over his shoulders. Things only got worse as the shorter male started kissing his way down the taller's torso, parting the button down and letting it hang off the still standing male's shoulders.
Logan's heart was pounding harder than he thought possible and he even had to tilt his head down to make sure it wasn't actually trying to get through his skin. But all he saw was his chest rising and falling rapidly as his breath sawed in and out of his lungs, his stomach clenching as Carlos licked around his belly button, tongue darting into his navel and tickling it in an erotic way. Geeze, was his belly button a turn on, too?
The Latino was on his knees now, kissing his way across the top of Logan's pants as he worked at the taller male's belt buckle. The brunet stopped breathing altogether, eyes widening again, unable to believe this was actually happening.
He put his hands on Carlos' shoulders to get him to stop, to push him away, to tell him that it wasn't necessary and that he didn't have to do that. But the Latino just smirked up at him, a naughty glint in his dark eyes.
"Let me take care of you." His voice had taken on a rough edge, most likely due to his arousal, and Logan felt his cock twitching in his pants. Man, if his voice was sexy before, it was killer now.
The shorter male finished undoing the taller's belt buckle, before setting to work on the jeans. Unbuttoning and unzipping them, Carlos shoved the denim down, forcing it to pool around Logan's feet and ankles. The brunet was trapped, couldn't get away, even if he wanted to. Not that he could in the first place. Shock over the entire situation had him glued to the spot.
Logan swallowed hard, eyes half lidded as he watched Carlos kneeling there, smiling at the bulge in the brunet's black boxer-briefs. The Latino licked his lips before leaning his head forward, placing an open mouth kiss at the wet spot, where pre-come had already dripped out and stained the underwear. The pre-med student whimpered as more kisses were placed along his length, wanting to feel more. It was just enough to tease and he was dying for the real thing.
"Carlos," he breathed out, sounding pathetic, even to his own ears. "Please."
The shorter male smirked more, hooking his thumbs under the gray elastic waistband of the boxer-briefs before tugging them down, allowing them to join the jeans. The cool air against his heated dick made Logan inhale sharply, the sound nearly drowned out by Carlos' gasp.
"Man, you're beautiful," he whispered in awe, hand wrapping around the base before his head leaned forward and he, once again, pressed a kiss to the tip.
Only now Logan could fully feel it.
A small whine escaped him and he reached back to grip the shelves behind him, hoping it would stop his hands from grabbing the other male's head and forcing his dick in his mouth. This may never happen again, so he was gonna do it properly, not scaring the other male off forever.
The Latino ran his tongue over the slit of the brunet's cock, making him gasp and whine again, letting out an "mmm" of his own. "You taste really good," he stated before sliding the head in his mouth and sucking, pulling it out with a pop.
"God, Carlos, don't tease."
"Teases don't follow through," he stated matter of factly, running his tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside of Logan's shaft, swirling his tongue on the bundle of nerves right below the crown. "And I fully intend on following through." Lifting his eyes, he locked onto the taller male's gaze as he slowly starting putting the hard cock back in his mouth.
Logan bit his bottom lip to prevent any more noises from coming out, watching those lips he loved stretching around his dick, feeling the wet cavern of a fantasy inducing mouth covered his most sensitive organ. He wasn't sure if he was in Heaven or Hell. It felt so amazing, yet his entire body was on fire, and he never wanted any of it to end.
Carlos moaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he slid more of the other male's erection in his mouth. And from the sounds he was making, Logan thought it seemed like he was the one receiving the blow job, rather than giving it. But it just made the experience all the more hotter, loving the way the sounds vibrated against him, how his tongue was rubbing just right on the nerve under the head.
The Latino pulled back, until the cock was almost out of his mouth, before sliding it back in. He started bobbing his head up and down, making Logan's dick go in and out shallowly. A long moment of this, then he deep throated the other male.
The brunet's eyes went wide as he felt his tip hitting the back of Carlos' throat. Then the shorter male relaxed, taking him even further, until his lips were practically against Logan's pelvis, sucking hard on the organ in his mouth and humming.
"Fuck, Carlos!" In the back of his mind, he knew he should be quiet, knew he shouldn't alert anyone to the activities he was currently participating in, knew he should be respectful of the other students trying to work in the library. But the back of his mind wasn't working, had shut down pretty much as soon as he felt the other male's lips on his. Now, it was all physical feelings, dopamine flooding his brain, causing only his pleasure receptors to work. He could've literally been on fire and never felt it, never would've known. All because he was getting the best oral sex of his life.
Carlos pulled back before deep throating him again, once, twice, three times, then going back to the shallow thrusts. He used his hand to pump what parts weren't in his mouth, twisting as he went up and down, using his saliva as a lube to create the right friction that wouldn't chafe or burn. He was clearly an expert at this, and Logan had a passing thought, a curiosity about exactly how many men Carlos had gone down on.
It went away when he felt Carlos' free hand on his rear.
The Latino palm the brunet's buttcheek, massaging it, the taller male flexing on automatic. Then, the shorter moved his hand more towards the middle, fingers curving into the crack, index one pressing at his entrance.
This caused Logan to tense up, to shoot a look down at Carlos, to swallow hard as he felt a slight panic.
The male on his knees pulled away from the other's cock, looking up at him. "Relax," he instructed, running the tip of Logan's dick around his mouth. "I said I'd take care of you."
A hard suck on the head and Logan shut up. "Relax," Carlos repeated before taking the taller male's dick in his mouth once more, deep throating him again.
The brunet did as he was told, taking a deep breath—or five—focusing more on what was happening to his cock, rather than the finger circling his entrance. He had to admit, it felt good, felt right. Yes, he was gay, yes, he'd known it for a while, but he'd never gone beyond giving and receiving blow jobs or mutual hand jobs, a couple dry-humping sessions with his first boyfriend back in high school. He'd never gone all the way, never dabbled in buttplay. But now that he was participating in it, he was wondering why he never tried before.
He found himself pushing back on the finger, wanting more. And when Carlos pressed in, he didn't resist, just let the finger slid inside of his hole.
The stretch burned and he was dry, but it still felt amazing to actually have something inside of him. He began contemplating if that meant he was a bottom, wondered if Carlos was a top. Maybe they could take turns. Maybe they could just feel it out and see what happens, see what feels natural. Maybe they could—
His thought cut off as his eyes went wide, the Latino's name being yelled from his lips. Whatever he'd just had done to him from behind was glorious, something he didn't know was possible, something he was dying to feel again. And he did, Carlos pressing against something inside that had Logan gasping out harshly, his throat burning as the sudden exhalation.
Carlos pulled him out, still stroking his dick, still finger his rear, dark eyes turned up at him in awe and amazement. "Logan?"
The brunet was vaguely aware that that was, in fact, his name, that he was being spoken to, that it was proper to respond in some way. But darn if he knew what he was supposed to do at that moment.
A weak "yeah?" left his lips as his body trembled, right there on the edge. Just one more good suck, one more rub on his prostate, and he'd go flying.
The brunet's eyes burst open, torso shooting up from where it had been curled over the table, arms still laying on it. He'd been asleep, the whole thing a dream. But God, did it feel so real, so good, so…
Turning his head to the left, he saw Carlos standing there, amused grin on his face. "You knocked this down in your sleep," he stated.
Confusion set in, a combination of having just woken up and having no idea what the Latino was talking about. Until he looked down and saw the notebook in his tan grasp.
Clearing his throat, he shoved his left hand through his hair as his right reached out and took it. "Thanks."
"No problem." The smirk was still there, a sparkle dancing in his dark eyes as he straightened up from where he'd been bent over. "Just be more careful when you nap. I've noticed your arms kinda spazz when you dream."
Flushing, Logan let out a small laugh. "Yeah. Thanks."
Another grin then Carlos left, walking over to where he'd left his cart by the shelves outlining the area of tables.
Logan let out a harsh sigh, smearing a hand over his face. His first actual conversation with the man he'd been daydreaming about for what felt like forever, and it was over his spastic movements. He knew he had a tendency to do those things, had woken up countless times because he'd knocked a text book he'd been trying to read off his bed after passing out from exhaustion. Although it was the first time it had happened in the library, despite the several occasions when the previously mentioned passing outs occurred.
His brow furrowed as he remembered what the other male had said. "I've noticed your arms kinda spazz when you dream." Had Carlos seen him before? Had he noticed his nap-time behaviors, seen the previous instances of his arms and their myoclonic jerks? Had he been watching Logan, as the brunet had been watching him?
No way. Logan definitely would've noticed, would've seen such a thing happening. And since he hadn't witnessed any of those glances or stares or any other form of viewing, it clearly hadn't happened. Carlos didn't pay attention to him. He simply must have heard the notebook hit the floor and decided to do the polite thing and return it to its owner. That's all it was.
Another sigh, this one much sadder, and he decided to focus on studying. He had an exam coming up that was worth a third of his final grade, so he obviously needed to do well on it. Notebook still in hand, he set it on the table in front of him before grabbing his pen to take notes.
Only he never wrote anything on the page.
But someone else had.
"If you ever wanna moan my name for real, just call me. 555-0181 Carlos ;)"
Logan's eyes shot up from the notebook and across the way to where the Latino was standing, book in hand, his own eyes focused on reading the numbers on the spine. As if feeling the stare, he lifted his gaze, looking back at Logan before winking, a wide grin spreading across his face.
Maybe dreams did come true.