OC_BigBang Fanfic- Blackwood Creek 9/12
Title- Blackwood Creek 9/12
Fandom- Supernatural, focusing on OCs
Ship- Logan(OMC)/Jake(OMC)
Rating- PG-13
Genre- slash, action, drama, romance, plotty
Warnings- violence, m/m kissing
Wordcount- 5,900
Summary- Jake and Logan's relationship evolves as they make their way to Montana.
A/N- written for 2011 oc_bigbang
Disclaimer- I did not come up with this world, but the idea of a hunters’ summer camp is mine. I did not create the Winchesters or Elkins, but all the rest of the characters mentioned in here are mine.
Beta- skylar_matthews
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Jake and Logan left Ross’ Roadhouse at noon the next day. Logan drove, and Jake lay in the passenger seat with it tilted all the way back, because he’d found that lying across the back seat meant that one of his bruised sides would be pressed against the cushions somewhere. If Logan kept his shotgun on the floor by Jake’s feet and his revolver firmly in his jeans pocket, neither commented on it. Jake tried to rest as they drove, and Logan wanted to let him. They spoke little, and the radio was kept to the volume of soft background noise.
Whenever they stopped for a bathroom break, Logan would help Jake from the car and walk with him to the bathroom, hovering at his shoulder like a worried mother. Jake insisted on using the stall, embarrassed to drop his pants with Logan standing just beside him, and Logan waited outside of the stall for him. When Jake washed his hands, Logan carefully peeled off the gauze taped to his palm, and reapplied it when Jake was done. Jake complained about the hovering, but privately he was glad for it because it let him know that Logan cared.
Whenever they stopped for food it was at a drive-thru, because Logan didn’t want Jake to have to get up and walk any more than he needed to. They would park in the side of the lot to eat their food, talking idly to pass the time. Occasionally Logan would lean over and press a gentle kiss against Jake’s cheek. Jake thought that the kisses and worrying spoke volumes. To him they were clear signs of being in love, something Logan refused to admit to, but Jake said nothing about it. He knew that asking Logan to say he was in love would only make Logan pull away. It was enough for him that Logan felt comfortable enough to show him signs of affection, especially in public. Jake, for his part, was uncomfortable with showing his love for another man in public, and he couldn’t help but look around nervously whenever Logan kissed him. He was sure Logan noticed his nervousness, but the other teen didn’t comment on it, nor did he stop the kisses.
When it was just starting to get dark, they stopped for gas and Logan got out to pump it. As he climbed out of the car, he turned back to Jake and pressed something into Jake’s hand. Jake, who had been sleeping until Logan pulled over and was still half asleep, tightened his fingers around the object and glanced down to see what it was.
The car keys.
Jake swallowed a sudden surge of emotion as he looked down at the keys in his hand. He knew that Logan giving him the keys was a purely a symbolic gesture, because Jake wasn’t going to get out of the car and was in no danger of being left behind. But what it expressed, a deep desire to prove himself worthy of Jake’s trust, was incredibly moving.
Jake looked up at Logan as the other teen started to turn away. He reached out and grabbed Logan’s wrist to stop him. Logan flinched at the touch, and Jake knew he must have been fighting an instinctive desire to pull away from a grasp that was detaining him. Jake turned Logan’s hand over and pressed the keys back into his palm before releasing him.
Logan looked down at the keys, then up at Jake, and their eyes locked. Though no words passed between them, they both understood the significance of the moment. Jake was saying that he trusted Logan implicitly, with his well-being, his heart, and even his life.
His eyes still locked with Jake’s, Logan took the keys and slowly, deliberately slipped them into his pocket. Jake understood what Logan meant by it. He was saying that he accepted the responsibility of Jake’s trust, and would do whatever it took to keep Jake safe, both physically and emotionally. For someone like Logan, who shied away from serious relationships, it must have been a very difficult thing to do. But, Jake thought as Logan turned away to pump the gas, he had done it, which meant that Logan must know there was something more here than in his previous hookups. Jake was glad for that.
The gas pump clicked off, and Logan climbed back into the car. He glanced over at Jake, who smiled in return. Then Logan leaned over and pressed a light and gentle kiss against Jake’s lips. For once Jake didn’t worry about who might be watching, and he kissed back. When Logan pulled away, he put the key in the ignition without a word, and they drove off. Jake smiled as he watched Logan driving. He was thinking of just how far and how fast their relationship had progressed since they’d first left Blackwood Creek. He could only imagine where they might end up by the end of their trip.
It was late in the night when they finally did stop, near the Missouri-Nebraska border. They went to three different motels just inside the Missouri border before finding one that had a room open. It was a single room, with one king-sized bed, but by that time they were both glad not to be sleeping in the car.
Logan carried both his and Jake’s belongings up to the room, and opened the door. Jake went in and inspected it. He turned back to Logan. “Should one of us take the floor? Or are we old enough to share a bed without fighting over the covers?”
“The problem isn’t the covers; it’s your snoring,” Logan replied with a little smile.
“Hey!” Jake cried. “I do not snore!”
Logan laughed and set their things on the bed. “I think we can manage to share the bed,” he said as he picked his toothbrush and toothpaste from the pile of belongings.
“Will you molest me in my sleep?” Jake asked, eyeing Logan with mock suspicion. Logan grinned wolfishly.
“Only a little.” Jake laughed and flopped down on the bed as Logan turned towards the bathroom. When he reached the door he looked back at Jake and grinned. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” Jake laughed again and waved Logan off. Logan shrugged and shut himself in the bathroom to shower and prepare for bed.
Jake pulled out his journal and started scribbling a few sentences about the day. Although not much had happened in the way of hunting, he had a lot to record about Logan and the way their relationship was progressing. He smiled as he wrote about the hovering and mothering in the bathroom, the little kisses for no reason, and the exchange of the keys. When he finished writing the entry, he looked back at the previous one to check the date to put at the top of the page. Jake frowned as he wrote the date down, realizing what the next day would be.
Logan stepped from the bathroom at that moment, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and ruffling his hair dry with a towel. “Yours,” Logan told him.
“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Jake said, and Logan looked at him curiously. “July fifteenth,” Jake explained. “I’ll be eighteen.”
Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Good; we can go to a fancy steak place and get you a free dinner.”
Jake laughed and threw a pillow at Logan, which he ducked easily. Logan picked up the pillow and threw it half-heartedly, hitting the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna take my shower,” Jake said, levering himself up.
“Will you be okay?” Logan asked seriously. “You don’t need my help, do you?”
“No, pervert!” Jake said with a grin. “I know what you’re trying to do. You just want to see me naked.”
“Yup, that’s all I want. I’m just a dog.” Logan stretched out on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head, grinning rakishly at Jake. Jake rolled his eyes at the other teen and turned back to the bathroom. “Be careful taking the bandages off,” Logan called after him. “And don’t put a shirt on when you get out. I’m going to wrap your ribs again.”
“Yeah, alright,” Jake called back as he closed the door behind him. He shrugged off his shirt, wincing when he had to lift his harms to do it. Maybe he should have let Logan help. Jake carefully unraveled the bandages around his abdomen and unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. He climbed into the shower and turned the water on.
As Jake reached up to run his hands though his hair, his left side and his right shoulder both gave a twinge of pain. He gritted his teeth and thought to himself that if he wasn’t feeling better the next night, he’d let Logan help him shower.
Jake managed to finish his shower without worsening his injuries or breaking open any scabs, then he dried off as much as he could and pulled on a clean pair of boxers before coming out of the bathroom. Logan must have seen the pain in his face, because the moment Jake stepped out Logan hurried to his side and helped him to the bed. While Logan bandaged his ribs, Jake explained the trouble he’d had with his shoulder and side and Logan nodded sympathetically.
“I didn’t really offer to help because I wanted to see you naked, you know,” Logan murmured as he worked. “I’ve had broken ribs before; I know how much trouble they can be, even when you’re doing simple things. Don’t be afraid to ask me next time. You can wear your swim shorts in the shower if you want. I won’t try to molest you.”
“I know,” Jake sighed as he lay down in the bed. Logan lay beside him and took Jake’s injured hand in both of his, gently taping gauze across the half-healed cut. He put more bruise ointment over Jake’s side, shoulder, and hip, and allowed Jake to apply it to his own back and neck, so long as Jake didn’t try to sit up.
When the first aid kit had been packed up once more, Logan settled down in the bed next to Jake. He pushed himself up on one arm and leaned across Jake to kiss him gently. Jake lifted his good hand to wrap around the back of Logan’s neck, being careful of his bruises. They both knew that their injuries, mostly Jake’s, would prevent them from doing much more than kissing, but they were content with it, for now. Jake was still worried, a little, about Logan insisting that there was nothing meaningful between them yet and making it plain that if there started to be, he would end it.
But mostly Jake was happy just to be with Logan, to argue with him and laugh with him during the day, and kiss him and cuddle with him at night. On the road with Logan it seemed like the realities of his life were far away, far enough to be powerless to affect him. Sometimes Jake liked to imagine that after they found Logan’s father the three of them would just keep driving and hunting, and Jake would never have to deal with his mother wanting him to go to college. He doubted it would be so, but as long as he was on the road, he would pretend that it could happen. He would enjoy the time he had with Logan, no matter how long or short it might be.
The next day was Jake’s birthday, and to his surprise Logan made good on his threat to take him to a nice restaurant. After a long day of driving Logan stopped at a gas station and made Jake change into the nicest clothes he had, refusing to answer any questions Jake asked about why he needed to wear them and what they were doing. Logan himself changed into a suit, which shocked Jake. Jake certainly wouldn’t have expected Logan to have something like that in his ratty old duffle bag, and it made Jake feel poorly dressed by comparison, in only a nice button-down and dress slacks. Logan dismissed Jake’s inquiries about why he had the suit, saying that it came in handy during certain hunts when he might need to impersonate, say, a federal agent, or the rich son of a billionaire. Jake just pointed out that Logan didn’t look old enough to be a federal agent, which made Logan scoff. Jake didn’t want to admit that he was insecure about his appearance standing next to Logan. The other hunter cleaned up well.
Jake kept asking questions that Logan didn’t answer until the moment they turned off the street into the parking lot of what Jake thought must have been the nicest, most expensive steak restaurant in the small city they had stopped in. “No!” Jake cried in disbelief as Logan got out and went to his door to open it for him. “No, you did not!”
“I did,” Logan replied smugly as Jake climbed out of the car. “Happy birthday.” He kissed Jake’s cheek lightly and they went to the door together. Jake sat back as Logan requested, and got, a table for two. He was amazed by the way Logan handled himself in such a formal setting, since it was obvious to Jake that Logan was far more at home in dingy bars than elegant restaurants.
The woman at the front of the restaurant led them to a table. She didn’t respond when Jake thanked her, but rather glared down her nose at them as they sat. She didn’t bring any menus or silverware, instead leaving them at an empty table. Jake stared after her with injured confusion as she left. “Don’t mind her,” Logan said angrily. “Some people can’t handle seeing two men happy together.”
Jake watched uneasily as Logan flagged down another waitress and asked for some menus and silverware. She was much more polite than the last woman, and offered to put an order for a free steak in the moment Logan mentioned that it was Jake’s birthday. When the waitress for their section came around, they both ordered drinks and Logan ordered his own steak, explaining that the previous waitress had already gotten the order for Jake’s free steak. Mollified by the lack of hostility from the other two women, Jake forced the first waitress’ attitude from his mind and told himself to relax.
As their meals were brought and they began to eat, Jake noticed subtle differences in Logan’s behavior that made him realize Logan was uncomfortable being there. For all his outward confidence, it seemed that Logan didn’t like being in a formal situation. He kept tugging at his collar and looking around nervously, something Jake had never seen him do even in the bars they frequented, which were arguably much more dangerous. Although Jake, having grown up with a poorly paid teacher for a mother, wasn’t exactly used to formal settings himself, he was nowhere near as uneasy as Logan seemed to be. Nevertheless, it made him happy that Logan was trying to make a romantic gesture by bringing Jake there even when it made him nervous.
While they ate, Jake noticed that other customers seemed to be staring at them. He even thought, though he wondered if he was just being paranoid, that they were whispering amongst themselves about him and Logan. He noticed Logan stiffen under the scrutiny, and at first thought that Logan was becoming even more on edge. Then he looked up and realized that, rather than unease, Logan’s posture expressed self-assurance and conviction. Jake was glad that at least one of them was not bothered by the whispering going on behind their backs.
Jake was still not comfortable describing himself as homosexual or bisexual, and the disapproving and sometimes even openly hostile looks from some of the people in the restaurant sapped his confidence. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on their condemnation. With every frown from a customer or rude remark from a server, he sat a little straighter, lifted his chin a little higher, and glared a little more defiantly at the other person. Jake admired him all the more for it, and wished he could have that kind of self-assuredness.
As much as Jake appreciated Logan trying to be romantic, he was still glad when they left the restaurant, changing their clothes in another gas station, and went to the opposite end of the class spectrum, what seemed to be the cheapest, filthiest bar in the city, to hustle pool. Logan’s dinner alone had wiped them out, and they had no money for a motel fee. They entered separately, as Logan had taught Jake. There was a pool game in progress already, and they waited until it broke up. Then Jake racked up the balls and practiced his shooting, trying to replicate Logan’s prefect almost-successful shot. It took considerably more skill to miss the right way than to hit the ball.
When Jake was done, Logan challenged him to a game. Jake threw the game on purpose, and sat back to watch as Logan started a game with another player. He admired Logan’s skill with a pool cue, the way he could make some shots insane enough to look like sheer luck, and could miss just enough to win as though by chance. Logan was certainly the most skilled pool player Jake had ever seen, bar none. He loved to watch Logan’s game, to imagine just how much skill each shot involved. He particularly liked it when Logan leaned over the pool table to make a shot and the hem of his shirt rode up, giving Jake a nice view of Logan’s jeans-clad ass and sometimes a strip of slightly bruised skin as well.
As he enjoyed the show that was Logan hustling pool, Jake tried to order a glass of beer from a waitress. He knew Logan wouldn’t like it if he saw, but he hoped that Logan would be engrossed with his play enough that he wouldn’t notice. The sight of Logan leaning over the pool table, showing off his skills and his body, was certainly something that needed alcohol to accompany it, Jake thought.
When the waitress took the order without carding him, Jake thought he was going to get away with it, but as usual Logan’s sharp eyes had seen the exchange. When the waitress brought the beer over to Jake’s table, Logan left off in his game and came over. He stood threateningly over Jake, who was seated at the table, and frowned down at him with his arms crossed. Jake managed a sheepish smile, feeling like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But Logan seemed genuinely angry, and Jake’s shaky smile fell to be replaced by a worried look. He didn’t want Logan to be mad at him.
Logan grabbed the beer and pulled it towards himself, glaring at Jake as he did. Jake opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could get the words out Logan lifted the glass and took a huge gulp of the beer. While Jake stared after him in amazement, Logan turned away and went back to the pool table, taking Jake’s beer with him.
Logan leaned one hip against the pool table and gulped down the beer. When he finished he slammed the mug down on the edge of the table and smirked at the men he’d been playing against. “Had to collect my winnings!” Logan bragged. “I bet that guy I could hustle at least five hundred dollars at this bar!”
Jake’s jaw fell open in shock. He rose to his feet, expecting one of the men to take a swing at Logan at any minute. If a bar fight erupted, he wanted to be at Logan’s side, even if he wouldn’t be much use with his injuries.
But, to Jake’s even greater shock, the men Logan had been playing against simply laughed as well. As Jake watched, they slapped Logan on the back and congratulated him, then stood back to let him finish his game. Logan made his shots with effortless precision, not even bothering to feign incompetence. When he’d hit the eight ball in, Logan straightened up and looked around the bar, a smirk on his face.
“Double or nothing!” Logan challenged, addressing the entire bar. “You’ve seen what I can really do. Do any of you think you could beat me?”
The men of the bar talked amongst themselves, considering the offer. Then finally one man stepped forward. He looked to be in his thirties, with short black hair and a two-day beard, and sharp green eyes. His clothes, well-worn from travel with burns and cuts along the leather jacket, made Jake think of a hunter, rather than a local bicker, pool shark, or bar tough.
“If you beat me, kid,” the man said to Logan, “you’ll have won a thousand dollars here, and earned every penny of it.”
Jake sat back on his barstool to watch the game. He was still nervous, even though none of the men seemed openly hostile to either him or Logan. He almost wished that Logan would lose and repay the money, just so that the men of the bar would have no reason to resent them. At the same time, a thousand dollars in one night would be a hell of a haul. And if Logan wanted it, he could probably take it. But looking at Logan’s grinning face, Jake couldn’t tell what the other teen might be planning. Did he intend to throw the game? Did he intend to win it? If Logan was going to play for real, it all came down to the break, Jake decided. No matter how good the man was, if Logan could break, he would win.
But Logan allowed the man to break, saying it was the least he could do after tricking everyone else. Jake watched in growing anticipation as the man shot in two stripes on breaking, then five more in quick succession. He was on the eight ball before Logan even got a chance to play. Logan’s expression was completely calm as he observed, and Jake still couldn’t tell if he’d been planning on letting the man win or if he’d been expecting the man to mess up so that he could take the game. Even if Logan had planned on winning, Jake wasn’t at all sure he’d be able to, the way this man was playing.
Jake leaned forward in his chair, watching intently as the man tapped the point of his pool stick by his chosen pocket and took aim. The ball seemed to be perfectly on track, and the anticipation had Jake rising to his feet to watch as it rolled towards the pocket, biting his lip and clenching his fists apprehensively. Then suddenly the ball glanced off the edge of the table just next to the pocket and rolled across the table. The man had missed his shot and it was Logan’s turn. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair.
Logan didn’t waste his chance. He made short work of the seven solids on the table, and then took the eight without difficulty. The man laughed and handed over five hundred dollars, meaning that Logan and Jake would leave the bar a thousand dollars richer. The men of the bar congratulated Logan, offering to buy him beers and patting his back, which Jake could see made him wince a little from the bruises only a few days old. Logan turned them down, though, and he beckoned to Jake. Still flushed with excitement, Jake joined Logan by the pool table. The men congratulated him as well, and said that he shouldn’t have bet against Logan. Jake laughed and agreed with them. He would never bet against Logan in a real game. Logan was the best.
The two of them stuck around long enough for a round of drinks on the green-eyed pool player, beer for the locals and soda for the two boys, before heading out to the car. Logan was smiling and relaxed when they left the bar, but despite their big windfall and the graciousness of the bar’s inhabitants, Jake was still bothered by Logan’s actions. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, and if they had Jake and Logan would have been lucky if the least that happened to them was losing all their winnings. He couldn’t imagine what had possessed Logan to announce to the bar that he’d been hustling; especially after he had cautioned Jake the first time they’d done it. And all, it seemed, to keep Jake from drinking beer!
“What were you thinking?” Jake exclaimed once they reached the relative safety of the parking lot. “Is keeping me from drinking really that important to you? They might have killed you!”
“And what if it had been different?” Logan asked, his tone light and cheerful. “What if I’d let you get drunk and then they found out I’d been cheating, and there really was a fight? What good would you be to me if you could barely stand up straight?”
“I wouldn’t get that drunk!” Jake said defensively. Logan just shrugged, and Jake blushed. He knew he had a tendency to keep going once he started, but there was no way that Logan could know that! “Besides,” Jake grumbled, “how did you know there wouldn’t be a fight this time?”
Logan turned back to the bar and pointed at the sign. “Roadhouse,” he said.
Jake looked where Logan was pointing and saw that it was: the sign above the door proclaimed the establishment “Big Al’s Roadhouse.” Jake hadn’t even noticed the name.
“I was taking a chance that this was a hunters’ bar,” Logan explained. “Even the civilian customers know these places are different. You don’t cater to hunters specifically without getting a reputation as a place for pool sharks. Hustlers getting beaten up would keep hunters away, so the owners don’t let it happen. Guys that get violent when they lose money would figure out pretty quickly that they’re not welcome in places like this.”
“You knew it was a hunters’ bar?” Jake asked, frowning at the sign. He’d thought the man Logan played against last looked like a hunter.
“No,” Logan replied with a shrug. “But even if the owner doesn’t know about hunting, there’ll probably be some hunters stopping there because of the name, so people will start to expect sharking. ‘Course, you never know. If it’s not a hunters’ bar, the owner might just as easily be against sharking, and throw people out when they get caught doing it. But, most roadhouses are hunters’ bars, so I thought it was pretty good odds I wouldn’t be in danger if I said it. I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”
Jake looked between Logan and the bar in disbelief, and shook his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Logan just laughed and went to the car.
They left the bar and went to the edge of the interstate to find a hotel to stay at. Logan pulled the car up in front of an expensive-looking hotel, ignoring Jake’s protests. Logan argued that they had plenty of money now, and it was still Jake’s birthday, so he wanted to stay someplace nice. And anyway, he wanted to make it up to Jake for scaring him by telling the pool players he was hustling. Jake shook his head and let Logan go inside to book them a room. Logan was at the top of his game that night, and there was no arguing with him.
Logan came back to the car with two room keys and pulled the car around to the parking lot. He parked and took the key from the ignition, but made no move to get out. When he turned to Jake his expression was nervous, and Jake straightened up in his seat, curious as to what Logan would say.
“I got a room with one bed,” Logan told him. “I can go back right now and change it if you want,” he added in a rush, not letting Jake get a word in. “But I figured after we managed so well last night, and the one bed is cheaper, so I thought it would be okay. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I can go back and change it right now.” He started to open the door, like he expected Jake to want his own bed and couldn’t imagine getting any other answer.
“Don’t,” Jake said, and Logan’s hand stilled on the door handle. He turned back to Jake with a hopeful expression. “Don’t change it. The one bed is fine. I like being close to you.”
Logan leaned across the center console and kissed Jake. He was smiling when he pulled back, but didn’t say anything. Jake climbed out of the car, not bothering to take the keys from Logan. He could tell from the way Logan glanced at him that the other teen had noticed that, but Logan didn’t comment and Jake didn’t volunteer an explanation. There was a companionable silence between them as Logan got their things from the back and carried them up, letting Jake press the button for the elevator and put the key card into the door.
“This is really nice,” Jake sighed as he stretched out on the big, soft bed.
“It is,” Logan agreed, sitting on the end of the bed by Jake’s feet. Jake stretched his legs out across Logan’s lap and sighed contentedly as Logan pulled off Jake’s shoes and socks and began to rub his feet.
“That’s nice,” Jake sighed, his eyes falling shut. Logan hummed in agreement, then shifted Jake’s feet from his lap.
“Shower time,” Logan told him, patting Jake’s foot to get his attention. “Come on. Do you need me to help with your hair?”
Jake raised both arms above his head, testing it out. “I think I can manage,” he replied. Logan nodded.
“Alright. I’ll wrap your ribs again when you get out.” Jake nodded and slipped into the bathroom to prepare for bed.
Jake was able to shower without much difficulty and Logan made quick work of the bandages. The bruises on Jake’s side, shoulder, and hip were starting to fade and Logan said that it was good; they were running low on bruise ointment anyway. After tending to Jake’s injuries, Logan took a shower himself. While he did, Jake crawled under the covers and pulled out his journal to write about what had happened that day. He was noting, for the third time in the entry, the importance of the word “roadhouse” in a bar’s name when Logan stepped out of the bathroom.
Logan came over to the side of the bed and sat next to Jake, watching him write. Jake could smell the vanilla soap and Logan’s clean scent, and it distracted him from his writing. He was scribbling the last of his entry quickly when Logan interrupted.
“What do you write about in there?” Logan asked.
“Oh, everything.” Jake shrugged, using the question as an excuse to stop writing and focus on Logan. Logan’s short, curly hair was damp with water, but he’d towel-dried it and it stuck up at odd angles, starting to get its curl back as it dried. Water droplets still clung to his hair, and every now and then he would have to blink away a drop that rolled down his forehead and into his eyes. “I write down everything I learn about hunting,” Jake said. “Everything that happens during the day. Everything I think about.”
“Do you write about me?” Logan asked. Jake laughed and grinned at him.
“Of course!”
Logan smiled and leaned closer, trying to get a look at the pages. “What do you write?”
Jake held the book away. “That’s a secret!”
Logan laughed and smirked at Jake. “About how Logan Taylor is the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on and you can’t wait until you’re healed up so he can fuck you?”
“About how he’s a cocky bastard!” Jake replied with a playful grin, and Logan laughed again. “And he’ll never let me drink, and his driving sucks!”
“Hey!” Logan cried, but he laughed all the same. Jake chuckled too, and smiled at Logan when the other boy stopped laughing and grinned at him.
“But he’s good at pool,” Jake murmured. “And he’s absolutely gorgeous, scars and all. And if you can look past the cocky bastard part, he’s actually a really, really good guy.”
Logan huffed and looked away, embarrassed. Jake smiled and went back to writing in his journal. A minute later he lifted his eyes to find Logan watching him with a tender expression. A shy smile spread across Jake’s face. “What?”
Logan shook his head. “I think I’m in love with you,” he said softly. Jake closed his journal and set it aside, turning his attention fully to Logan.
“And I know I’m in love with you,” he replied.
Logan stood up from where he was seated on the bed and went around to the other side. He pulled back the covers and crawled in next to Jake, then leaned over him on one elbow and kissed him gently. Jake smiled into the kiss as he returned it.
“I do love you,” Logan whispered when the kiss broke, before immediately sealing his lips to Jake’s once more.
“I love you too,” Jake replied when the second kiss broke. He noticed that Logan had not said anything about ending their tenuous relationship, had not brought up what might happen when the summer came to an end and they might have to part ways. Jake was glad for that, but he still troubled by the things left unsaid. He knew that even if he didn’t say it out loud, Logan was worried about what would happen when their hunt was over. It made Jake worry too.
But for tonight, Jake decided as Logan’s tongue caressed the roof of his mouth, he would put those worries from his mind and focus on the here and now. As they kissed leisurely, Jake reached behind Logan and flicked off the bedside lamp, so that darkness washed over both of them. A few kisses more and they settled down to sleep, Jake on his back because of the bruises on both his sides, and Logan on his side because of the bruises on his back. Logan’s head rested on Jake’s good shoulder, but he kept the rest of his body at a distance so as not to bump Jake’s injured ribs. Jake nuzzled Logan’s hair as he began to nod off. He liked the soft, comfortable weight of Logan’s head on his shoulder, the warmth of another body next to him, and the scent of Logan on his shirt when he woke up. He hoped he never had to fall asleep without Logan there beside him.
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Fandom- Supernatural, focusing on OCs
Ship- Logan(OMC)/Jake(OMC)
Rating- PG-13
Genre- slash, action, drama, romance, plotty
Warnings- violence, m/m kissing
Wordcount- 5,900
Summary- Jake and Logan's relationship evolves as they make their way to Montana.
A/N- written for 2011 oc_bigbang
Disclaimer- I did not come up with this world, but the idea of a hunters’ summer camp is mine. I did not create the Winchesters or Elkins, but all the rest of the characters mentioned in here are mine.
Beta- skylar_matthews
*** Previous Chapter *** Master Post *** Next Chapter ***
Jake and Logan left Ross’ Roadhouse at noon the next day. Logan drove, and Jake lay in the passenger seat with it tilted all the way back, because he’d found that lying across the back seat meant that one of his bruised sides would be pressed against the cushions somewhere. If Logan kept his shotgun on the floor by Jake’s feet and his revolver firmly in his jeans pocket, neither commented on it. Jake tried to rest as they drove, and Logan wanted to let him. They spoke little, and the radio was kept to the volume of soft background noise.
Whenever they stopped for a bathroom break, Logan would help Jake from the car and walk with him to the bathroom, hovering at his shoulder like a worried mother. Jake insisted on using the stall, embarrassed to drop his pants with Logan standing just beside him, and Logan waited outside of the stall for him. When Jake washed his hands, Logan carefully peeled off the gauze taped to his palm, and reapplied it when Jake was done. Jake complained about the hovering, but privately he was glad for it because it let him know that Logan cared.
Whenever they stopped for food it was at a drive-thru, because Logan didn’t want Jake to have to get up and walk any more than he needed to. They would park in the side of the lot to eat their food, talking idly to pass the time. Occasionally Logan would lean over and press a gentle kiss against Jake’s cheek. Jake thought that the kisses and worrying spoke volumes. To him they were clear signs of being in love, something Logan refused to admit to, but Jake said nothing about it. He knew that asking Logan to say he was in love would only make Logan pull away. It was enough for him that Logan felt comfortable enough to show him signs of affection, especially in public. Jake, for his part, was uncomfortable with showing his love for another man in public, and he couldn’t help but look around nervously whenever Logan kissed him. He was sure Logan noticed his nervousness, but the other teen didn’t comment on it, nor did he stop the kisses.
When it was just starting to get dark, they stopped for gas and Logan got out to pump it. As he climbed out of the car, he turned back to Jake and pressed something into Jake’s hand. Jake, who had been sleeping until Logan pulled over and was still half asleep, tightened his fingers around the object and glanced down to see what it was.
The car keys.
Jake swallowed a sudden surge of emotion as he looked down at the keys in his hand. He knew that Logan giving him the keys was a purely a symbolic gesture, because Jake wasn’t going to get out of the car and was in no danger of being left behind. But what it expressed, a deep desire to prove himself worthy of Jake’s trust, was incredibly moving.
Jake looked up at Logan as the other teen started to turn away. He reached out and grabbed Logan’s wrist to stop him. Logan flinched at the touch, and Jake knew he must have been fighting an instinctive desire to pull away from a grasp that was detaining him. Jake turned Logan’s hand over and pressed the keys back into his palm before releasing him.
Logan looked down at the keys, then up at Jake, and their eyes locked. Though no words passed between them, they both understood the significance of the moment. Jake was saying that he trusted Logan implicitly, with his well-being, his heart, and even his life.
His eyes still locked with Jake’s, Logan took the keys and slowly, deliberately slipped them into his pocket. Jake understood what Logan meant by it. He was saying that he accepted the responsibility of Jake’s trust, and would do whatever it took to keep Jake safe, both physically and emotionally. For someone like Logan, who shied away from serious relationships, it must have been a very difficult thing to do. But, Jake thought as Logan turned away to pump the gas, he had done it, which meant that Logan must know there was something more here than in his previous hookups. Jake was glad for that.
The gas pump clicked off, and Logan climbed back into the car. He glanced over at Jake, who smiled in return. Then Logan leaned over and pressed a light and gentle kiss against Jake’s lips. For once Jake didn’t worry about who might be watching, and he kissed back. When Logan pulled away, he put the key in the ignition without a word, and they drove off. Jake smiled as he watched Logan driving. He was thinking of just how far and how fast their relationship had progressed since they’d first left Blackwood Creek. He could only imagine where they might end up by the end of their trip.
It was late in the night when they finally did stop, near the Missouri-Nebraska border. They went to three different motels just inside the Missouri border before finding one that had a room open. It was a single room, with one king-sized bed, but by that time they were both glad not to be sleeping in the car.
Logan carried both his and Jake’s belongings up to the room, and opened the door. Jake went in and inspected it. He turned back to Logan. “Should one of us take the floor? Or are we old enough to share a bed without fighting over the covers?”
“The problem isn’t the covers; it’s your snoring,” Logan replied with a little smile.
“Hey!” Jake cried. “I do not snore!”
Logan laughed and set their things on the bed. “I think we can manage to share the bed,” he said as he picked his toothbrush and toothpaste from the pile of belongings.
“Will you molest me in my sleep?” Jake asked, eyeing Logan with mock suspicion. Logan grinned wolfishly.
“Only a little.” Jake laughed and flopped down on the bed as Logan turned towards the bathroom. When he reached the door he looked back at Jake and grinned. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” Jake laughed again and waved Logan off. Logan shrugged and shut himself in the bathroom to shower and prepare for bed.
Jake pulled out his journal and started scribbling a few sentences about the day. Although not much had happened in the way of hunting, he had a lot to record about Logan and the way their relationship was progressing. He smiled as he wrote about the hovering and mothering in the bathroom, the little kisses for no reason, and the exchange of the keys. When he finished writing the entry, he looked back at the previous one to check the date to put at the top of the page. Jake frowned as he wrote the date down, realizing what the next day would be.
Logan stepped from the bathroom at that moment, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and ruffling his hair dry with a towel. “Yours,” Logan told him.
“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Jake said, and Logan looked at him curiously. “July fifteenth,” Jake explained. “I’ll be eighteen.”
Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Good; we can go to a fancy steak place and get you a free dinner.”
Jake laughed and threw a pillow at Logan, which he ducked easily. Logan picked up the pillow and threw it half-heartedly, hitting the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna take my shower,” Jake said, levering himself up.
“Will you be okay?” Logan asked seriously. “You don’t need my help, do you?”
“No, pervert!” Jake said with a grin. “I know what you’re trying to do. You just want to see me naked.”
“Yup, that’s all I want. I’m just a dog.” Logan stretched out on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head, grinning rakishly at Jake. Jake rolled his eyes at the other teen and turned back to the bathroom. “Be careful taking the bandages off,” Logan called after him. “And don’t put a shirt on when you get out. I’m going to wrap your ribs again.”
“Yeah, alright,” Jake called back as he closed the door behind him. He shrugged off his shirt, wincing when he had to lift his harms to do it. Maybe he should have let Logan help. Jake carefully unraveled the bandages around his abdomen and unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. He climbed into the shower and turned the water on.
As Jake reached up to run his hands though his hair, his left side and his right shoulder both gave a twinge of pain. He gritted his teeth and thought to himself that if he wasn’t feeling better the next night, he’d let Logan help him shower.
Jake managed to finish his shower without worsening his injuries or breaking open any scabs, then he dried off as much as he could and pulled on a clean pair of boxers before coming out of the bathroom. Logan must have seen the pain in his face, because the moment Jake stepped out Logan hurried to his side and helped him to the bed. While Logan bandaged his ribs, Jake explained the trouble he’d had with his shoulder and side and Logan nodded sympathetically.
“I didn’t really offer to help because I wanted to see you naked, you know,” Logan murmured as he worked. “I’ve had broken ribs before; I know how much trouble they can be, even when you’re doing simple things. Don’t be afraid to ask me next time. You can wear your swim shorts in the shower if you want. I won’t try to molest you.”
“I know,” Jake sighed as he lay down in the bed. Logan lay beside him and took Jake’s injured hand in both of his, gently taping gauze across the half-healed cut. He put more bruise ointment over Jake’s side, shoulder, and hip, and allowed Jake to apply it to his own back and neck, so long as Jake didn’t try to sit up.
When the first aid kit had been packed up once more, Logan settled down in the bed next to Jake. He pushed himself up on one arm and leaned across Jake to kiss him gently. Jake lifted his good hand to wrap around the back of Logan’s neck, being careful of his bruises. They both knew that their injuries, mostly Jake’s, would prevent them from doing much more than kissing, but they were content with it, for now. Jake was still worried, a little, about Logan insisting that there was nothing meaningful between them yet and making it plain that if there started to be, he would end it.
But mostly Jake was happy just to be with Logan, to argue with him and laugh with him during the day, and kiss him and cuddle with him at night. On the road with Logan it seemed like the realities of his life were far away, far enough to be powerless to affect him. Sometimes Jake liked to imagine that after they found Logan’s father the three of them would just keep driving and hunting, and Jake would never have to deal with his mother wanting him to go to college. He doubted it would be so, but as long as he was on the road, he would pretend that it could happen. He would enjoy the time he had with Logan, no matter how long or short it might be.
The next day was Jake’s birthday, and to his surprise Logan made good on his threat to take him to a nice restaurant. After a long day of driving Logan stopped at a gas station and made Jake change into the nicest clothes he had, refusing to answer any questions Jake asked about why he needed to wear them and what they were doing. Logan himself changed into a suit, which shocked Jake. Jake certainly wouldn’t have expected Logan to have something like that in his ratty old duffle bag, and it made Jake feel poorly dressed by comparison, in only a nice button-down and dress slacks. Logan dismissed Jake’s inquiries about why he had the suit, saying that it came in handy during certain hunts when he might need to impersonate, say, a federal agent, or the rich son of a billionaire. Jake just pointed out that Logan didn’t look old enough to be a federal agent, which made Logan scoff. Jake didn’t want to admit that he was insecure about his appearance standing next to Logan. The other hunter cleaned up well.
Jake kept asking questions that Logan didn’t answer until the moment they turned off the street into the parking lot of what Jake thought must have been the nicest, most expensive steak restaurant in the small city they had stopped in. “No!” Jake cried in disbelief as Logan got out and went to his door to open it for him. “No, you did not!”
“I did,” Logan replied smugly as Jake climbed out of the car. “Happy birthday.” He kissed Jake’s cheek lightly and they went to the door together. Jake sat back as Logan requested, and got, a table for two. He was amazed by the way Logan handled himself in such a formal setting, since it was obvious to Jake that Logan was far more at home in dingy bars than elegant restaurants.
The woman at the front of the restaurant led them to a table. She didn’t respond when Jake thanked her, but rather glared down her nose at them as they sat. She didn’t bring any menus or silverware, instead leaving them at an empty table. Jake stared after her with injured confusion as she left. “Don’t mind her,” Logan said angrily. “Some people can’t handle seeing two men happy together.”
Jake watched uneasily as Logan flagged down another waitress and asked for some menus and silverware. She was much more polite than the last woman, and offered to put an order for a free steak in the moment Logan mentioned that it was Jake’s birthday. When the waitress for their section came around, they both ordered drinks and Logan ordered his own steak, explaining that the previous waitress had already gotten the order for Jake’s free steak. Mollified by the lack of hostility from the other two women, Jake forced the first waitress’ attitude from his mind and told himself to relax.
As their meals were brought and they began to eat, Jake noticed subtle differences in Logan’s behavior that made him realize Logan was uncomfortable being there. For all his outward confidence, it seemed that Logan didn’t like being in a formal situation. He kept tugging at his collar and looking around nervously, something Jake had never seen him do even in the bars they frequented, which were arguably much more dangerous. Although Jake, having grown up with a poorly paid teacher for a mother, wasn’t exactly used to formal settings himself, he was nowhere near as uneasy as Logan seemed to be. Nevertheless, it made him happy that Logan was trying to make a romantic gesture by bringing Jake there even when it made him nervous.
While they ate, Jake noticed that other customers seemed to be staring at them. He even thought, though he wondered if he was just being paranoid, that they were whispering amongst themselves about him and Logan. He noticed Logan stiffen under the scrutiny, and at first thought that Logan was becoming even more on edge. Then he looked up and realized that, rather than unease, Logan’s posture expressed self-assurance and conviction. Jake was glad that at least one of them was not bothered by the whispering going on behind their backs.
Jake was still not comfortable describing himself as homosexual or bisexual, and the disapproving and sometimes even openly hostile looks from some of the people in the restaurant sapped his confidence. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on their condemnation. With every frown from a customer or rude remark from a server, he sat a little straighter, lifted his chin a little higher, and glared a little more defiantly at the other person. Jake admired him all the more for it, and wished he could have that kind of self-assuredness.
As much as Jake appreciated Logan trying to be romantic, he was still glad when they left the restaurant, changing their clothes in another gas station, and went to the opposite end of the class spectrum, what seemed to be the cheapest, filthiest bar in the city, to hustle pool. Logan’s dinner alone had wiped them out, and they had no money for a motel fee. They entered separately, as Logan had taught Jake. There was a pool game in progress already, and they waited until it broke up. Then Jake racked up the balls and practiced his shooting, trying to replicate Logan’s prefect almost-successful shot. It took considerably more skill to miss the right way than to hit the ball.
When Jake was done, Logan challenged him to a game. Jake threw the game on purpose, and sat back to watch as Logan started a game with another player. He admired Logan’s skill with a pool cue, the way he could make some shots insane enough to look like sheer luck, and could miss just enough to win as though by chance. Logan was certainly the most skilled pool player Jake had ever seen, bar none. He loved to watch Logan’s game, to imagine just how much skill each shot involved. He particularly liked it when Logan leaned over the pool table to make a shot and the hem of his shirt rode up, giving Jake a nice view of Logan’s jeans-clad ass and sometimes a strip of slightly bruised skin as well.
As he enjoyed the show that was Logan hustling pool, Jake tried to order a glass of beer from a waitress. He knew Logan wouldn’t like it if he saw, but he hoped that Logan would be engrossed with his play enough that he wouldn’t notice. The sight of Logan leaning over the pool table, showing off his skills and his body, was certainly something that needed alcohol to accompany it, Jake thought.
When the waitress took the order without carding him, Jake thought he was going to get away with it, but as usual Logan’s sharp eyes had seen the exchange. When the waitress brought the beer over to Jake’s table, Logan left off in his game and came over. He stood threateningly over Jake, who was seated at the table, and frowned down at him with his arms crossed. Jake managed a sheepish smile, feeling like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But Logan seemed genuinely angry, and Jake’s shaky smile fell to be replaced by a worried look. He didn’t want Logan to be mad at him.
Logan grabbed the beer and pulled it towards himself, glaring at Jake as he did. Jake opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could get the words out Logan lifted the glass and took a huge gulp of the beer. While Jake stared after him in amazement, Logan turned away and went back to the pool table, taking Jake’s beer with him.
Logan leaned one hip against the pool table and gulped down the beer. When he finished he slammed the mug down on the edge of the table and smirked at the men he’d been playing against. “Had to collect my winnings!” Logan bragged. “I bet that guy I could hustle at least five hundred dollars at this bar!”
Jake’s jaw fell open in shock. He rose to his feet, expecting one of the men to take a swing at Logan at any minute. If a bar fight erupted, he wanted to be at Logan’s side, even if he wouldn’t be much use with his injuries.
But, to Jake’s even greater shock, the men Logan had been playing against simply laughed as well. As Jake watched, they slapped Logan on the back and congratulated him, then stood back to let him finish his game. Logan made his shots with effortless precision, not even bothering to feign incompetence. When he’d hit the eight ball in, Logan straightened up and looked around the bar, a smirk on his face.
“Double or nothing!” Logan challenged, addressing the entire bar. “You’ve seen what I can really do. Do any of you think you could beat me?”
The men of the bar talked amongst themselves, considering the offer. Then finally one man stepped forward. He looked to be in his thirties, with short black hair and a two-day beard, and sharp green eyes. His clothes, well-worn from travel with burns and cuts along the leather jacket, made Jake think of a hunter, rather than a local bicker, pool shark, or bar tough.
“If you beat me, kid,” the man said to Logan, “you’ll have won a thousand dollars here, and earned every penny of it.”
Jake sat back on his barstool to watch the game. He was still nervous, even though none of the men seemed openly hostile to either him or Logan. He almost wished that Logan would lose and repay the money, just so that the men of the bar would have no reason to resent them. At the same time, a thousand dollars in one night would be a hell of a haul. And if Logan wanted it, he could probably take it. But looking at Logan’s grinning face, Jake couldn’t tell what the other teen might be planning. Did he intend to throw the game? Did he intend to win it? If Logan was going to play for real, it all came down to the break, Jake decided. No matter how good the man was, if Logan could break, he would win.
But Logan allowed the man to break, saying it was the least he could do after tricking everyone else. Jake watched in growing anticipation as the man shot in two stripes on breaking, then five more in quick succession. He was on the eight ball before Logan even got a chance to play. Logan’s expression was completely calm as he observed, and Jake still couldn’t tell if he’d been planning on letting the man win or if he’d been expecting the man to mess up so that he could take the game. Even if Logan had planned on winning, Jake wasn’t at all sure he’d be able to, the way this man was playing.
Jake leaned forward in his chair, watching intently as the man tapped the point of his pool stick by his chosen pocket and took aim. The ball seemed to be perfectly on track, and the anticipation had Jake rising to his feet to watch as it rolled towards the pocket, biting his lip and clenching his fists apprehensively. Then suddenly the ball glanced off the edge of the table just next to the pocket and rolled across the table. The man had missed his shot and it was Logan’s turn. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair.
Logan didn’t waste his chance. He made short work of the seven solids on the table, and then took the eight without difficulty. The man laughed and handed over five hundred dollars, meaning that Logan and Jake would leave the bar a thousand dollars richer. The men of the bar congratulated Logan, offering to buy him beers and patting his back, which Jake could see made him wince a little from the bruises only a few days old. Logan turned them down, though, and he beckoned to Jake. Still flushed with excitement, Jake joined Logan by the pool table. The men congratulated him as well, and said that he shouldn’t have bet against Logan. Jake laughed and agreed with them. He would never bet against Logan in a real game. Logan was the best.
The two of them stuck around long enough for a round of drinks on the green-eyed pool player, beer for the locals and soda for the two boys, before heading out to the car. Logan was smiling and relaxed when they left the bar, but despite their big windfall and the graciousness of the bar’s inhabitants, Jake was still bothered by Logan’s actions. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, and if they had Jake and Logan would have been lucky if the least that happened to them was losing all their winnings. He couldn’t imagine what had possessed Logan to announce to the bar that he’d been hustling; especially after he had cautioned Jake the first time they’d done it. And all, it seemed, to keep Jake from drinking beer!
“What were you thinking?” Jake exclaimed once they reached the relative safety of the parking lot. “Is keeping me from drinking really that important to you? They might have killed you!”
“And what if it had been different?” Logan asked, his tone light and cheerful. “What if I’d let you get drunk and then they found out I’d been cheating, and there really was a fight? What good would you be to me if you could barely stand up straight?”
“I wouldn’t get that drunk!” Jake said defensively. Logan just shrugged, and Jake blushed. He knew he had a tendency to keep going once he started, but there was no way that Logan could know that! “Besides,” Jake grumbled, “how did you know there wouldn’t be a fight this time?”
Logan turned back to the bar and pointed at the sign. “Roadhouse,” he said.
Jake looked where Logan was pointing and saw that it was: the sign above the door proclaimed the establishment “Big Al’s Roadhouse.” Jake hadn’t even noticed the name.
“I was taking a chance that this was a hunters’ bar,” Logan explained. “Even the civilian customers know these places are different. You don’t cater to hunters specifically without getting a reputation as a place for pool sharks. Hustlers getting beaten up would keep hunters away, so the owners don’t let it happen. Guys that get violent when they lose money would figure out pretty quickly that they’re not welcome in places like this.”
“You knew it was a hunters’ bar?” Jake asked, frowning at the sign. He’d thought the man Logan played against last looked like a hunter.
“No,” Logan replied with a shrug. “But even if the owner doesn’t know about hunting, there’ll probably be some hunters stopping there because of the name, so people will start to expect sharking. ‘Course, you never know. If it’s not a hunters’ bar, the owner might just as easily be against sharking, and throw people out when they get caught doing it. But, most roadhouses are hunters’ bars, so I thought it was pretty good odds I wouldn’t be in danger if I said it. I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”
Jake looked between Logan and the bar in disbelief, and shook his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Logan just laughed and went to the car.
They left the bar and went to the edge of the interstate to find a hotel to stay at. Logan pulled the car up in front of an expensive-looking hotel, ignoring Jake’s protests. Logan argued that they had plenty of money now, and it was still Jake’s birthday, so he wanted to stay someplace nice. And anyway, he wanted to make it up to Jake for scaring him by telling the pool players he was hustling. Jake shook his head and let Logan go inside to book them a room. Logan was at the top of his game that night, and there was no arguing with him.
Logan came back to the car with two room keys and pulled the car around to the parking lot. He parked and took the key from the ignition, but made no move to get out. When he turned to Jake his expression was nervous, and Jake straightened up in his seat, curious as to what Logan would say.
“I got a room with one bed,” Logan told him. “I can go back right now and change it if you want,” he added in a rush, not letting Jake get a word in. “But I figured after we managed so well last night, and the one bed is cheaper, so I thought it would be okay. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I can go back and change it right now.” He started to open the door, like he expected Jake to want his own bed and couldn’t imagine getting any other answer.
“Don’t,” Jake said, and Logan’s hand stilled on the door handle. He turned back to Jake with a hopeful expression. “Don’t change it. The one bed is fine. I like being close to you.”
Logan leaned across the center console and kissed Jake. He was smiling when he pulled back, but didn’t say anything. Jake climbed out of the car, not bothering to take the keys from Logan. He could tell from the way Logan glanced at him that the other teen had noticed that, but Logan didn’t comment and Jake didn’t volunteer an explanation. There was a companionable silence between them as Logan got their things from the back and carried them up, letting Jake press the button for the elevator and put the key card into the door.
“This is really nice,” Jake sighed as he stretched out on the big, soft bed.
“It is,” Logan agreed, sitting on the end of the bed by Jake’s feet. Jake stretched his legs out across Logan’s lap and sighed contentedly as Logan pulled off Jake’s shoes and socks and began to rub his feet.
“That’s nice,” Jake sighed, his eyes falling shut. Logan hummed in agreement, then shifted Jake’s feet from his lap.
“Shower time,” Logan told him, patting Jake’s foot to get his attention. “Come on. Do you need me to help with your hair?”
Jake raised both arms above his head, testing it out. “I think I can manage,” he replied. Logan nodded.
“Alright. I’ll wrap your ribs again when you get out.” Jake nodded and slipped into the bathroom to prepare for bed.
Jake was able to shower without much difficulty and Logan made quick work of the bandages. The bruises on Jake’s side, shoulder, and hip were starting to fade and Logan said that it was good; they were running low on bruise ointment anyway. After tending to Jake’s injuries, Logan took a shower himself. While he did, Jake crawled under the covers and pulled out his journal to write about what had happened that day. He was noting, for the third time in the entry, the importance of the word “roadhouse” in a bar’s name when Logan stepped out of the bathroom.
Logan came over to the side of the bed and sat next to Jake, watching him write. Jake could smell the vanilla soap and Logan’s clean scent, and it distracted him from his writing. He was scribbling the last of his entry quickly when Logan interrupted.
“What do you write about in there?” Logan asked.
“Oh, everything.” Jake shrugged, using the question as an excuse to stop writing and focus on Logan. Logan’s short, curly hair was damp with water, but he’d towel-dried it and it stuck up at odd angles, starting to get its curl back as it dried. Water droplets still clung to his hair, and every now and then he would have to blink away a drop that rolled down his forehead and into his eyes. “I write down everything I learn about hunting,” Jake said. “Everything that happens during the day. Everything I think about.”
“Do you write about me?” Logan asked. Jake laughed and grinned at him.
“Of course!”
Logan smiled and leaned closer, trying to get a look at the pages. “What do you write?”
Jake held the book away. “That’s a secret!”
Logan laughed and smirked at Jake. “About how Logan Taylor is the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on and you can’t wait until you’re healed up so he can fuck you?”
“About how he’s a cocky bastard!” Jake replied with a playful grin, and Logan laughed again. “And he’ll never let me drink, and his driving sucks!”
“Hey!” Logan cried, but he laughed all the same. Jake chuckled too, and smiled at Logan when the other boy stopped laughing and grinned at him.
“But he’s good at pool,” Jake murmured. “And he’s absolutely gorgeous, scars and all. And if you can look past the cocky bastard part, he’s actually a really, really good guy.”
Logan huffed and looked away, embarrassed. Jake smiled and went back to writing in his journal. A minute later he lifted his eyes to find Logan watching him with a tender expression. A shy smile spread across Jake’s face. “What?”
Logan shook his head. “I think I’m in love with you,” he said softly. Jake closed his journal and set it aside, turning his attention fully to Logan.
“And I know I’m in love with you,” he replied.
Logan stood up from where he was seated on the bed and went around to the other side. He pulled back the covers and crawled in next to Jake, then leaned over him on one elbow and kissed him gently. Jake smiled into the kiss as he returned it.
“I do love you,” Logan whispered when the kiss broke, before immediately sealing his lips to Jake’s once more.
“I love you too,” Jake replied when the second kiss broke. He noticed that Logan had not said anything about ending their tenuous relationship, had not brought up what might happen when the summer came to an end and they might have to part ways. Jake was glad for that, but he still troubled by the things left unsaid. He knew that even if he didn’t say it out loud, Logan was worried about what would happen when their hunt was over. It made Jake worry too.
But for tonight, Jake decided as Logan’s tongue caressed the roof of his mouth, he would put those worries from his mind and focus on the here and now. As they kissed leisurely, Jake reached behind Logan and flicked off the bedside lamp, so that darkness washed over both of them. A few kisses more and they settled down to sleep, Jake on his back because of the bruises on both his sides, and Logan on his side because of the bruises on his back. Logan’s head rested on Jake’s good shoulder, but he kept the rest of his body at a distance so as not to bump Jake’s injured ribs. Jake nuzzled Logan’s hair as he began to nod off. He liked the soft, comfortable weight of Logan’s head on his shoulder, the warmth of another body next to him, and the scent of Logan on his shirt when he woke up. He hoped he never had to fall asleep without Logan there beside him.
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