Fic: Before You Know Where You Are (You're Saying Goodbye), 5/5
Title: Before You Know Where You Are (You’re Saying Goodbye)
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, small itty bitty Kendall/Jo and Logan/Camille
Details: Slash, showverse
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Crossdressing, swearing, slash, homophobia, angst, not exactly HEA, smut, voyeurism, cheating (Kendall/Jo, Logan/Camille)
Status: Complete
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: As children grow to adulthood, their friendships change. Sometimes those friendships evolve, twist and shift into something foreign. What’s left can be messy, unable to be salvaged. Logan has a secret he’s kept to himself for as long as he can remember. Kendall finds out about it.
Author's Note: Please don't hate me.
They go to this secluded cabin in the Hollywood hills. Kendall is thrilled their escape went so smoothly. He knows if there were any hitches, Logan would be backing out, and Kendall needs every moment to convince him.
It was only yesterday Kendall realized how much he loves Logan, love loves him in the all-consuming, I can’t breathe without you way. He thinks it’s crazy it took him so long to see it when the revelation was brought on by something so tiny.
Logan was packing his bag and Kendall was pretending to pack his own but actually watching TV out of the corner of his eye. Logan noticed his half-assed attempt at packing and laughed.
“Hey, Ken,” Logan said, waiting the several moments it took for Kendall to turn his attention from the TV.
“Yeah, Logan?”
“Don’t forget your blanket,” Logan said, voice low to keep it from traveling to the others through the open door. Kendall felt a rush of affection so great he had to swallow, blink about a million times.
Kendall fucking Knight still has a blankie, and the only people in the whole wide world who know about it are his mom and Logan. It’s not really a blankie, per se. It’s the size of a throw blanket and dark blue, but Kendall and Logan both know it’s a fucking blankie. And Logan’s never made fun of Kendall over it, never even thought twice. He even reminded Kendall he should bring it.
That was the moment he knew how much he meant to Logan, how much Logan meant to him, how Logan was his best friend and the love of his life, so deeply ingrained in him Logan might as well be stitched into Kendall’s skin.
Kendall had wanted to say how he wouldn’t need the stupid blankie for comfort if Logan would let Kendall hold him at night.
Once they’re inside their temporary lodgings, Kendall immediately pulls his bag down the small hallway and finds the master bedroom. The bed is huge and the furniture rustic. Kendall finds it all lovely and quaint. Kendall hears Logan coming down the hall, the click of his heels reminding Kendall of how badly he wants to get Logan on that mattress on his back. The clicking stops right behind Kendall.
“Is there just one bed?” Logan asks.
Kendall glances over at him and Logan is squeezing his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, creating what Kendall has always affectionately called “the butt lip”. Kendall smiles and reaches over, pulls Logan’s hand away from his mouth.
“You’re smearing your lipstick,” Kendall laughs. “There’s another room if you… if you really want…”
“Okay, well, um,” Logan slides past Kendall, leaves his bag in the middle of the room, “we can decide that later.” He kicks off his heels and curls his feet into the plush carpet, sweeps his hair to the side as he looks down at his feet. “Feels nice,” Logan laughs.
Kendall just takes a moment to look Logan up and down. He’s like this fucked up, backwards version of a butterfly, cocooned in layers of soft, beautiful fabric, and Kendall wants nothing more than to peel it all away, let loose the boy inside who is desperately trying to hide.
Kendall isn’t stupid. He knows Logan’s dad. He knows no matter what Logan is, it’s never good enough. He knows how Logan suffers because of it. Kendall has been trying for years to make it right, but he can never replace the acceptance of a father. Kendall knows that all too well.
“I want some coffee,” Logan says. “Is there coffee?”
~oOo~
"And do you remember the time you got stuck in that tree by your belt loop?" Kendall laughs.
"How could I forget?" Logan rubs his stomach. "I can still feel it."
They’ve been sitting on the couch in the small living area for over an over, sipping on coffee and swapping stories they’ve already swapped more times than they can count.
Kendall covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hamper the ridiculous amount of giggles bubbling out. "I'll never forget you shouting 'This defies the rules of physics and gravity! My weight in comparison to this branch means it should've broken by now!'"
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Logan replies. "What about that time we played Truth or Dare and James locked you outside in your underwear?" Kendall tries to glare at him, but a smile still curls the corners of his mouth.
"You let me back in," Kendall says.
"I'm so weak."
"No, you're just my best friend who also loves me to pieces." Kendall doesn't think the word he uses is a big deal, because he knows they've always loved each other in some way, shape or form. Apparently it is a big deal to Logan, who stops laughing and smiling and looks at the steam rising from the coffee cup clutched between his hands.
"I'm going to get some more coffee," Logan says.
"But your cup is almost full," Kendall observes. Logan takes a long swallow of the steaming beverage.
"Just a freshen up." Logan smiles and it's forced. He glances at the lipstick stain on the rim of his mug, pushes his hair behind his ear. He stands and goes toward the kitchenette in stocking feet, and Kendall watches the gentle sway of Logan's hips in the dress he wears.
Kendall wants Logan so much, too much. He wants to grab Logan by the shoulders and shake him, scream at him, tear down these brick and mortar walls he's built around himself, tell him it's okay if they love each other; it's okay what they have is different from most ordinary relationships, because they're Kendall and Logan and they've never been anything if not extraordinary.
So Kendall follows Logan, moves to him as close as he dares without touching.
"Do you remember when my dad left?" Kendall asks, Logan standing statue still, his back to Kendall as he faces the coffee pot. Logan nods, barely a rustle through the wig. Kendall continues.
"I begged him not to. It was the middle of the night, and I heard Mom crying so I got up. He had a suitcase and his jacket and his bowling ball bag. I just remember thinking He wants his bowling ball more than us. He was almost to the door, and I ran to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and cried and screamed, over and over, 'Please don't go!' and he just stood there, calm, until I couldn't scream anymore. When I stopped yelling I said I was going with him. I went to my room and put my blankie, my comics and a few action figures in a bag. When I came out he was gone."
Logan stays quiet and still, so Kendall continues. "I swore I'd never beg for anything again. I'd never let anyone have that kind of hold on me. I would be the one in control. You know why I've never told you this story, Logan? Because when it comes to me and you, whether you believe it or not, you're the one in control. But it doesn't matter because you don't judge me. Ever. Somehow, no matter how much I was hurting, you made everything okay again. You always make everything okay. Would you turn around?"
Logan does, slowly, face downturned and hidden by the heavy waves of hair on the wig. Kendall reaches out, pulls it off and runs his fingers through Logan's flat, natural dark locks.
"Do you remember your mom bringing you over at 4 a.m.? It's because I wouldn't rest until I had you with me. Mom and I fought over it for hours. Thankfully, your mom understood."
"I remember," Logan mutters, still staring at his feet, and he looks sick. "I'll never forget how sad you were, how red your eyes were. I asked you what was wrong. You said, 'I just missed your face'." He smiles. It's a small one, a gentle curve Kendall wants to kiss into a full blown grin.
Kendall takes Logan's face in his hands, runs his thumbs over Logan's cheeks. He tries to look at everything but into Kendall's eyes.
"Logan, look at me." He does, hesitantly. "I'm begging you. Be with me. Be with me the way we've always been before all this started. We can still do this if you want, but it doesn't matter to me. It's not all this I want." His thumbs move to Logan's lips, wipe off the color. "Just, please, kiss me, touch me. Tell me we mean something. That would be the only difference." Kendall moves his fingers to Logan's eyes and they close. He smudges away the color there, wipes away Logan's blush with his palms.
"Logan, I lo--"
"Don't."
"But why? It's nothing new. Don't you understand that?"
"I just," Logan swallows, "can't forget it once you say it out loud."
And then Logan opens his eyes again, dark as night surrounded by blurred mascara and eyeliner and shadow. The look is loaded with want and fear and love and regret and a million other things Kendall would take years to decipher if Logan would only let him.
"Let's not avoid each other anymore, Logan. Please," Kendall says, pushing the straps of Logan's dress over his shoulders. It slides off easily and pools around his feet, leaving him standing in nothing but frilly underthings. Kendall presses his lips against Logan's bare shoulder, fingers finding the clasp of his padded bra.
"Please," Kendall says, discarding the bra, smoothing his fingers down Logan's bare torso.
"Please," Kendall says, lowering to his knees, unsnapping Logan's garter belt, pulling it off.
"Please," Kendall says, sliding off Logan's panties, pulling down his stockings until Logan is naked and hard. Kendall starts at Logan's ribs, presses his mouth on each one. His lips traverse to Logan's hips, his thighs, his knees, lifting Logan's leg and placing a kiss on his ankle.
"Please," Kendall says, and Logan can't stand the pleading in Kendall's voice, his stature or his eyes anymore.
Logan has never been so completely vulnerable and exposed. No matter how many times they've messed around, he's always had something to hide behind, a patch of satin or silk. Now, Kendall has him stripped to nothing, and he's just himself, just Logan and he's terrified.
Terrified and thrilled.
Logan is broken down or bolstered or somewhere in between the two or nowhere at all. Maybe he's only whatever Kendall wills him to be, maybe that's all he's ever been since the moment they met on a swingset in the snow.
"You can't hide behind these clothes anymore. I don’t want you to. Please, stop trying."
Logan takes a deep breath as Kendall nuzzles his thigh, palms smooth up his legs to his ass.
Logan is reeling.
"Just," Logan starts, wondering what the hell he can say, "just, kiss me." Both boys are surprised, but Logan's thoughts -- every ridiculous tangent and train -- all center around the want to have Kendall's lips pressed against his. There are no sidebars this time, no niggling voices of doubt. Just a want that has always been there.
So Kendall rises to his feet, left arm encircling Logan's waist, open palm against the bare skin of Logan’s hip, right palm cupping Logan's face. He moves in slowly, giving Logan the chance to protest or push him away. Logan doesn't, his eyes focused on Kendall's lips, the tiny indentation of his lower one, the cupid's bow of his upper. Logan ponders Kendall's mouth, the beautiful voice that pushes music past his lips, the voice of reason and certainty and passion, and Logan wants to swallow it all.
So when Kendall finally closes the last few inches between their mouths, Logan doesn't hesitate to return pressure, only pauses a moment before opening his lips to embrace Kendall's tongue.
Kendall has always fit, no matter where he’s gone. For a moment, Logan tastes the flavor of belonging. He foolishly thinks it’s just because Kendall is who he is, and not because he’s maybe found where he belongs, finally, wrapped in Kendall’s arms, two sets of lips sliding together like the links of a chain.
Logan does what he’s wanted to do for well over a year now and reaches out, plunges his fingers into Kendall’s messy hair, presses his naked body against Kendall’s clothed one. A tiny whine unfurls from his throat, and Kendall licks into Logan’s mouth, finding his tongue, turning the whine into a full groan.
Their lips finally part, both panting and smiling and flying high on an unspoken emotion. Logan touches Kendall’s cheeks, his nose, leans up and kisses his throat, his chin, his ears. There’s so much of Kendall he wants to see, to touch, but his hands are shaking so much he can’t seem to undo the top button of Kendall’s shirt.
“What do you want, Logan?” Kendall asks, placing his hands on top of Logan’s trembling ones. Logan lets out a nervous laugh and splays his hands on Kendall’s chest, thumb tapping in time with the thump of Kendall’s heart.
“I want to get your clothes off,” Logan answers, proud that he only sounds a little embarrassed.
So Kendall reaches between Logan’s hands, easily undoes the button with which Logan struggled. Logan’s hands move to Kendall’s hips to give him more room, and the shorter boy can’t help but dip his fingers under Kendall’s top, brush across the heated skin of his stomach. Kendall lets out his own awkward laugh, as though he can’t believe this is happening, Logan’s fingers searching and exploring, lips parted and willing and ready. To know that he is desired -- just as he is -- has more heat rushing to Logan’s groin, and he can’t stand the wait anymore as Kendall undresses. Logan begins unfastening Kendall’s belt as the taller boy works on his shirt, the metal clang of the buckle sounding out starkly amongst the cadence of heavy breathing.
The urgency becomes overwhelming and both boys are working quickly to rid Kendall of his clothes. Logan pushes Kendall’s pants and underwear down, Kendall stepping out of them as they both pull his undershirt over his head. Kendall is barely freed from his top before he is embracing Logan, so much skin on skin, finding his swollen lips again and kissing them until they are both breathless.
Kendall's arms snake around Logan's waist and sweep Logan off his feet, his legs instinctually wrapping around Kendall. And Kendall should really break the kiss so he can carry Logan without misstep, but the joy of finally kissing him so intimately has Kendall stumbling blindly down the hall, his hands filled with the flesh of Logan's ass. There are moments he can't wait to be firmly pressed against Logan, so the journey to the bedroom is long, Kendall stopping every few steps to push Logan into the wall, feel the pressure of Logan's writhing hips.
When they finally make their way to bed, Kendall tries to lower Logan gently, but Logan won't let go and they both tumble to the mattress.
Kendall asks again, "What do you want, Logan?" as Logan's mouth slides down his throat, laves at his collar bone.
"You," Logan whispers, lips finding Kendall's. "I want you."
The words don't burn the way Logan thought they would.
Before he can overthink, Logan stretches out onto his back, pulling Kendall on top of him. He wraps his fingers around Kendall's cock with little trepidation. The heat of Kendall is tremendous, embers in Logan's hand, a steady pulse throbbing through Kendall's dick syncopating with the beat of his heart.
"God, Logan, yes, I've wanted this so long," Kendall hisses, attacking Logan's mouth, nipping at his lower lip. Logan is spurred on by Kendall's pleasured words, and he increases pressure, giving Kendall the touches Logan has so long denied him.
Logan parts his thighs and Kendall settles in between them, cocks lining up and sliding together. Logan's need for Kendall to be inside of him seems insurmountable, and his mouth opens before any ramifications can settle in his overactive brain.
"Fuck me," Logan says.
"Please," Logan says. "Just do it."
Kendall pulls his lips from Logan's throat with a tiny pop. He looks at Logan -- his eyes full of questions -- so long Logan begins to squirm under the scrutiny. Kendall sees he's making Logan uncomfortable and smooths his hands up to Logan's face, expression softening.
Kendall watches his fingers as they run through Logan's hair, trace the bridge of his nose, tickle across his lips. He leaves his fingers on Logan's chin and smiles, halfway, a short disbelieving laugh escaping through his nose. Kendall shakes his head before he presses a chaste kiss against Logan's lips.
Logan is so enraptured by Kendall's warm mouth, he doesn't even notice Kendall reach into the night stand, doesn't notice Kendall slickening his fingers. In fact, Logan is so focused on the flavor of Kendall, the scent of his sweat-sheened skin, the only thing he does notice is Kendall pressing a finger inside him.
Logan tenses up a bit at the intrusion, and Kendall sits back on his haunches so that he can pump Logan's erection as he stretches the smaller boy's hole.
The sensation is amazing, Kendall's long fingers around him and inside him. It's so much, Logan starts muttering thoughtlessly, pushing his head into the pillow. He feels like he's floating away and only Kendall can keep him where he is. And Logan really wants to stay where he is. There's this tenderness, too, in every one of Kendall's movements, each press against that spot inside him.
Logan knows his treatment of Kendall has been unforgivable, yet Kendall is still taking the time to make sure Logan is ready, something Logan never did for Kendall, despite having wanted to.
Logan thinks he is in serious danger of exploding, feeling much too much.
"Please, now," Logan says, hips bucking and trembling.
So Kendall hooks one of Logan's knees over an arm, uses his free hand to line his cock up to Logan's opening. He gives Logan a final look, a final moment to back out, but Logan simply holds his steady gaze, panting, as Kendall sheathes himself in Logan's body.
He pauses, hips flush against Logan's ass, his brow furrowed in concentration and short, hot breaths escape his open mouth.
All of it is too much for Logan, just as he's always feared, and he's so fucking full, not just with Kendall's dick but with everything else the blond pours into him, thoughts and emotions that even a genius like Logan has no hope of taking stock. And when Kendall opens his eyes to look at Logan, judge his reaction, the leafy green iris swallowed up by the window of Kendall’s pupil, Logan has to close his own eyes against the burning.
Kendall misjudges Logan's reaction for pain. "It gets better, I promise," he whispers leaning down to kiss Logan as he begins to thrust.
Logan doesn't think he can handle it if things get much better.
Kendall covers Logan’s body with his own, burrowing his arms under Logan’s back, squeezing him so close Logan can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care, because he’s holding Kendall just as close, fingernails biting into the flesh of Kendall’s hips urging him to thrust harder.
They are an arpeggio, cards in bicycle spokes, the steady patter of raindrops in a storm. It feels like this is happening so fast, when in reality it’s something budded when they were small and naïve, when the word “love” slipped past their lips as easily as they skinned their knees. They are trying to manifest a feeling, make it tangible with fingers and hips and heartbeats and mouths.
Logan always knew the science of love, the chemicals released. He’s always known it’s the brain producing love, all that bullshit about heart-love being complete…well…bullshit. Your heart has nothing to do with love, Logan always thought.
But when Kendall’s rosy lips murmur words of forever against Logan’s throat, when Kendall’s hips move just right, when Kendall looks straight into Logan’s soul and sees every filthy, despicable thing and still kisses his lips, Logan’s heart skips a beat. He thinks maybe science has little to do with it. He thinks maybe he’s starting to get what all those love songs mean.
This isn’t just fucking; this isn’t just getting off.
After he comes into a million pieces, after Kendall pulls Logan in and tangles their legs until they are indistinguishable as separate, Logan wonders how he can ever forget, especially when he doesn’t want to.
~oOo~
Kendall wakes up to Logan mumbling in his sleep. Logan’s back is against Kendall’s chest, and the covers have been pushed to the floor. Kendall takes the moment to appreciate Logan’s naked body, skin winter-silver in the blue moonlight streaming through the curtains. He traces a line down Logan’s torso with his index finger, watching in awe as gooseflesh erupts over Logan’s rib cage. Logan’s breathing speeds as he wakes.
“Tickles,” Logan mutters, grabbing Kendall’s hand and clutching it between his own, just over his heart. He wakes enough to kiss each of Kendall’s fingers.
“You’re really here,” Logan says, arching his back and pressing his ass into Kendall’s groin. Kendall hums, presses his lips against Logan’s neck.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kendall asks.
“Dunno,” Logan replies. “I had a dream.” He doesn’t offer anymore, but moves against Kendall, swivels his hips.
“You really like me like this? Just…me?” Logan questions, whispers, as though he’s afraid to ask.
“It’s more than just “like”, Logan,” Kendall answers. Logan doesn’t dwell on the subject anymore, writhing against Kendall until all the blond can think about is being inside the other boy.
“Want you,” Kendall whispers, taking Logan’s earlobe between his teeth.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Kendall answers, moving his hips and pressing into Logan’s opening without much effort, Logan still slick from before, both hissing in tandem at being connected again. Kendall pulls back slowly, pushes back in at the same pace.
“Are you sore?” Kendall asks, buried to the hilt inside Logan, the brunet wiggling and grinding against Kendall’s hips.
“A little,” Logan answers. “Doesn’t matter. I want to feel you. I don’t want to forget how this feels.” His voice tapers into almost nothing, and a dark, dreaded feeling whispers up Kendall’s spine.
Instead of addressing it, Kendall pulls out, snaps his hips forward, a satisfying slap echoing into the quiet room.
”Mmm, yes, just like that.” Logan reaches behind him, digs his fingers into Kendall’s ass.
Kendall thrusts forward again and again and again until Logan is nearly shouting. “Harder,” he demands, so Kendall pounds into him harder.
“God, you feel so good, Ken,” Logan says, repeats it over and over.
Hands travelling down Logan’s stomach, Kendall grasps Logan’s cock, begins to pump with each thrust. Kendall doesn’t want Logan to forget either, so he pushes into Logan with as much force as he can muster and holds him there, lets go of Logan’s cock to wrap both arms around his chest as though he might run away.
“I love you, Logan,” Kendall says.
Logan only replies with a groan, a sound unfurling from his throat that might be pain or pleasure or some hybrid of the two.
Kendall clutches Logan like he’s a temporary thing, like Logan will turn to vapor, notes of music and slip through his arms.
He tries to convince himself, as he shouts Logan’s name when he comes, that he’s not begging.
He tries to convince himself this isn’t ending as it’s only just beginning.
But Kendall knows Logan.
Some things, even Kendall Knight can’t fix.
~oOo~
Logan doesn’t want to be that guy.
The guy who cheats on his girlfriend and lies to his friends.
The guy who doesn’t have parents because they can’t accept who he is.
The guy who gets married and has kids and lives a life in the closet because he’s afraid.
No matter what Logan does, he’s going to be some version of that guy.
Logan is a coward. But he has a father, friends, fans.
“We can’t do this anymore,” Logan says when they park at the Palmwoods.
Kendall’s face isn’t shocked, but it is sad. Logan knows love has something to do with the heart, because he’s pretty sure he hears a duet of hearts breaking when the words pass his lips.
Logan can see Kendall take a thick swallow.
“What about us?”
“Would it make it easier if I told you I love you?” Logan chokes, the words burning sweet and sour.
Kendall shakes his head. “No, not at all.”
This way, Logan only hurts one person.
Even if that person is the last person Logan would ever want to hurt.
In all actuality, he’s hurting two people, if he counts himself.
Logan has never counted himself.
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, small itty bitty Kendall/Jo and Logan/Camille
Details: Slash, showverse
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Crossdressing, swearing, slash, homophobia, angst, not exactly HEA, smut, voyeurism, cheating (Kendall/Jo, Logan/Camille)
Status: Complete
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: As children grow to adulthood, their friendships change. Sometimes those friendships evolve, twist and shift into something foreign. What’s left can be messy, unable to be salvaged. Logan has a secret he’s kept to himself for as long as he can remember. Kendall finds out about it.
Author's Note: Please don't hate me.
They go to this secluded cabin in the Hollywood hills. Kendall is thrilled their escape went so smoothly. He knows if there were any hitches, Logan would be backing out, and Kendall needs every moment to convince him.
It was only yesterday Kendall realized how much he loves Logan, love loves him in the all-consuming, I can’t breathe without you way. He thinks it’s crazy it took him so long to see it when the revelation was brought on by something so tiny.
Logan was packing his bag and Kendall was pretending to pack his own but actually watching TV out of the corner of his eye. Logan noticed his half-assed attempt at packing and laughed.
“Hey, Ken,” Logan said, waiting the several moments it took for Kendall to turn his attention from the TV.
“Yeah, Logan?”
“Don’t forget your blanket,” Logan said, voice low to keep it from traveling to the others through the open door. Kendall felt a rush of affection so great he had to swallow, blink about a million times.
Kendall fucking Knight still has a blankie, and the only people in the whole wide world who know about it are his mom and Logan. It’s not really a blankie, per se. It’s the size of a throw blanket and dark blue, but Kendall and Logan both know it’s a fucking blankie. And Logan’s never made fun of Kendall over it, never even thought twice. He even reminded Kendall he should bring it.
That was the moment he knew how much he meant to Logan, how much Logan meant to him, how Logan was his best friend and the love of his life, so deeply ingrained in him Logan might as well be stitched into Kendall’s skin.
Kendall had wanted to say how he wouldn’t need the stupid blankie for comfort if Logan would let Kendall hold him at night.
Once they’re inside their temporary lodgings, Kendall immediately pulls his bag down the small hallway and finds the master bedroom. The bed is huge and the furniture rustic. Kendall finds it all lovely and quaint. Kendall hears Logan coming down the hall, the click of his heels reminding Kendall of how badly he wants to get Logan on that mattress on his back. The clicking stops right behind Kendall.
“Is there just one bed?” Logan asks.
Kendall glances over at him and Logan is squeezing his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, creating what Kendall has always affectionately called “the butt lip”. Kendall smiles and reaches over, pulls Logan’s hand away from his mouth.
“You’re smearing your lipstick,” Kendall laughs. “There’s another room if you… if you really want…”
“Okay, well, um,” Logan slides past Kendall, leaves his bag in the middle of the room, “we can decide that later.” He kicks off his heels and curls his feet into the plush carpet, sweeps his hair to the side as he looks down at his feet. “Feels nice,” Logan laughs.
Kendall just takes a moment to look Logan up and down. He’s like this fucked up, backwards version of a butterfly, cocooned in layers of soft, beautiful fabric, and Kendall wants nothing more than to peel it all away, let loose the boy inside who is desperately trying to hide.
Kendall isn’t stupid. He knows Logan’s dad. He knows no matter what Logan is, it’s never good enough. He knows how Logan suffers because of it. Kendall has been trying for years to make it right, but he can never replace the acceptance of a father. Kendall knows that all too well.
“I want some coffee,” Logan says. “Is there coffee?”
~oOo~
"And do you remember the time you got stuck in that tree by your belt loop?" Kendall laughs.
"How could I forget?" Logan rubs his stomach. "I can still feel it."
They’ve been sitting on the couch in the small living area for over an over, sipping on coffee and swapping stories they’ve already swapped more times than they can count.
Kendall covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hamper the ridiculous amount of giggles bubbling out. "I'll never forget you shouting 'This defies the rules of physics and gravity! My weight in comparison to this branch means it should've broken by now!'"
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Logan replies. "What about that time we played Truth or Dare and James locked you outside in your underwear?" Kendall tries to glare at him, but a smile still curls the corners of his mouth.
"You let me back in," Kendall says.
"I'm so weak."
"No, you're just my best friend who also loves me to pieces." Kendall doesn't think the word he uses is a big deal, because he knows they've always loved each other in some way, shape or form. Apparently it is a big deal to Logan, who stops laughing and smiling and looks at the steam rising from the coffee cup clutched between his hands.
"I'm going to get some more coffee," Logan says.
"But your cup is almost full," Kendall observes. Logan takes a long swallow of the steaming beverage.
"Just a freshen up." Logan smiles and it's forced. He glances at the lipstick stain on the rim of his mug, pushes his hair behind his ear. He stands and goes toward the kitchenette in stocking feet, and Kendall watches the gentle sway of Logan's hips in the dress he wears.
Kendall wants Logan so much, too much. He wants to grab Logan by the shoulders and shake him, scream at him, tear down these brick and mortar walls he's built around himself, tell him it's okay if they love each other; it's okay what they have is different from most ordinary relationships, because they're Kendall and Logan and they've never been anything if not extraordinary.
So Kendall follows Logan, moves to him as close as he dares without touching.
"Do you remember when my dad left?" Kendall asks, Logan standing statue still, his back to Kendall as he faces the coffee pot. Logan nods, barely a rustle through the wig. Kendall continues.
"I begged him not to. It was the middle of the night, and I heard Mom crying so I got up. He had a suitcase and his jacket and his bowling ball bag. I just remember thinking He wants his bowling ball more than us. He was almost to the door, and I ran to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and cried and screamed, over and over, 'Please don't go!' and he just stood there, calm, until I couldn't scream anymore. When I stopped yelling I said I was going with him. I went to my room and put my blankie, my comics and a few action figures in a bag. When I came out he was gone."
Logan stays quiet and still, so Kendall continues. "I swore I'd never beg for anything again. I'd never let anyone have that kind of hold on me. I would be the one in control. You know why I've never told you this story, Logan? Because when it comes to me and you, whether you believe it or not, you're the one in control. But it doesn't matter because you don't judge me. Ever. Somehow, no matter how much I was hurting, you made everything okay again. You always make everything okay. Would you turn around?"
Logan does, slowly, face downturned and hidden by the heavy waves of hair on the wig. Kendall reaches out, pulls it off and runs his fingers through Logan's flat, natural dark locks.
"Do you remember your mom bringing you over at 4 a.m.? It's because I wouldn't rest until I had you with me. Mom and I fought over it for hours. Thankfully, your mom understood."
"I remember," Logan mutters, still staring at his feet, and he looks sick. "I'll never forget how sad you were, how red your eyes were. I asked you what was wrong. You said, 'I just missed your face'." He smiles. It's a small one, a gentle curve Kendall wants to kiss into a full blown grin.
Kendall takes Logan's face in his hands, runs his thumbs over Logan's cheeks. He tries to look at everything but into Kendall's eyes.
"Logan, look at me." He does, hesitantly. "I'm begging you. Be with me. Be with me the way we've always been before all this started. We can still do this if you want, but it doesn't matter to me. It's not all this I want." His thumbs move to Logan's lips, wipe off the color. "Just, please, kiss me, touch me. Tell me we mean something. That would be the only difference." Kendall moves his fingers to Logan's eyes and they close. He smudges away the color there, wipes away Logan's blush with his palms.
"Logan, I lo--"
"Don't."
"But why? It's nothing new. Don't you understand that?"
"I just," Logan swallows, "can't forget it once you say it out loud."
And then Logan opens his eyes again, dark as night surrounded by blurred mascara and eyeliner and shadow. The look is loaded with want and fear and love and regret and a million other things Kendall would take years to decipher if Logan would only let him.
"Let's not avoid each other anymore, Logan. Please," Kendall says, pushing the straps of Logan's dress over his shoulders. It slides off easily and pools around his feet, leaving him standing in nothing but frilly underthings. Kendall presses his lips against Logan's bare shoulder, fingers finding the clasp of his padded bra.
"Please," Kendall says, discarding the bra, smoothing his fingers down Logan's bare torso.
"Please," Kendall says, lowering to his knees, unsnapping Logan's garter belt, pulling it off.
"Please," Kendall says, sliding off Logan's panties, pulling down his stockings until Logan is naked and hard. Kendall starts at Logan's ribs, presses his mouth on each one. His lips traverse to Logan's hips, his thighs, his knees, lifting Logan's leg and placing a kiss on his ankle.
"Please," Kendall says, and Logan can't stand the pleading in Kendall's voice, his stature or his eyes anymore.
Logan has never been so completely vulnerable and exposed. No matter how many times they've messed around, he's always had something to hide behind, a patch of satin or silk. Now, Kendall has him stripped to nothing, and he's just himself, just Logan and he's terrified.
Terrified and thrilled.
Logan is broken down or bolstered or somewhere in between the two or nowhere at all. Maybe he's only whatever Kendall wills him to be, maybe that's all he's ever been since the moment they met on a swingset in the snow.
"You can't hide behind these clothes anymore. I don’t want you to. Please, stop trying."
Logan takes a deep breath as Kendall nuzzles his thigh, palms smooth up his legs to his ass.
Logan is reeling.
"Just," Logan starts, wondering what the hell he can say, "just, kiss me." Both boys are surprised, but Logan's thoughts -- every ridiculous tangent and train -- all center around the want to have Kendall's lips pressed against his. There are no sidebars this time, no niggling voices of doubt. Just a want that has always been there.
So Kendall rises to his feet, left arm encircling Logan's waist, open palm against the bare skin of Logan’s hip, right palm cupping Logan's face. He moves in slowly, giving Logan the chance to protest or push him away. Logan doesn't, his eyes focused on Kendall's lips, the tiny indentation of his lower one, the cupid's bow of his upper. Logan ponders Kendall's mouth, the beautiful voice that pushes music past his lips, the voice of reason and certainty and passion, and Logan wants to swallow it all.
So when Kendall finally closes the last few inches between their mouths, Logan doesn't hesitate to return pressure, only pauses a moment before opening his lips to embrace Kendall's tongue.
Kendall has always fit, no matter where he’s gone. For a moment, Logan tastes the flavor of belonging. He foolishly thinks it’s just because Kendall is who he is, and not because he’s maybe found where he belongs, finally, wrapped in Kendall’s arms, two sets of lips sliding together like the links of a chain.
Logan does what he’s wanted to do for well over a year now and reaches out, plunges his fingers into Kendall’s messy hair, presses his naked body against Kendall’s clothed one. A tiny whine unfurls from his throat, and Kendall licks into Logan’s mouth, finding his tongue, turning the whine into a full groan.
Their lips finally part, both panting and smiling and flying high on an unspoken emotion. Logan touches Kendall’s cheeks, his nose, leans up and kisses his throat, his chin, his ears. There’s so much of Kendall he wants to see, to touch, but his hands are shaking so much he can’t seem to undo the top button of Kendall’s shirt.
“What do you want, Logan?” Kendall asks, placing his hands on top of Logan’s trembling ones. Logan lets out a nervous laugh and splays his hands on Kendall’s chest, thumb tapping in time with the thump of Kendall’s heart.
“I want to get your clothes off,” Logan answers, proud that he only sounds a little embarrassed.
So Kendall reaches between Logan’s hands, easily undoes the button with which Logan struggled. Logan’s hands move to Kendall’s hips to give him more room, and the shorter boy can’t help but dip his fingers under Kendall’s top, brush across the heated skin of his stomach. Kendall lets out his own awkward laugh, as though he can’t believe this is happening, Logan’s fingers searching and exploring, lips parted and willing and ready. To know that he is desired -- just as he is -- has more heat rushing to Logan’s groin, and he can’t stand the wait anymore as Kendall undresses. Logan begins unfastening Kendall’s belt as the taller boy works on his shirt, the metal clang of the buckle sounding out starkly amongst the cadence of heavy breathing.
The urgency becomes overwhelming and both boys are working quickly to rid Kendall of his clothes. Logan pushes Kendall’s pants and underwear down, Kendall stepping out of them as they both pull his undershirt over his head. Kendall is barely freed from his top before he is embracing Logan, so much skin on skin, finding his swollen lips again and kissing them until they are both breathless.
Kendall's arms snake around Logan's waist and sweep Logan off his feet, his legs instinctually wrapping around Kendall. And Kendall should really break the kiss so he can carry Logan without misstep, but the joy of finally kissing him so intimately has Kendall stumbling blindly down the hall, his hands filled with the flesh of Logan's ass. There are moments he can't wait to be firmly pressed against Logan, so the journey to the bedroom is long, Kendall stopping every few steps to push Logan into the wall, feel the pressure of Logan's writhing hips.
When they finally make their way to bed, Kendall tries to lower Logan gently, but Logan won't let go and they both tumble to the mattress.
Kendall asks again, "What do you want, Logan?" as Logan's mouth slides down his throat, laves at his collar bone.
"You," Logan whispers, lips finding Kendall's. "I want you."
The words don't burn the way Logan thought they would.
Before he can overthink, Logan stretches out onto his back, pulling Kendall on top of him. He wraps his fingers around Kendall's cock with little trepidation. The heat of Kendall is tremendous, embers in Logan's hand, a steady pulse throbbing through Kendall's dick syncopating with the beat of his heart.
"God, Logan, yes, I've wanted this so long," Kendall hisses, attacking Logan's mouth, nipping at his lower lip. Logan is spurred on by Kendall's pleasured words, and he increases pressure, giving Kendall the touches Logan has so long denied him.
Logan parts his thighs and Kendall settles in between them, cocks lining up and sliding together. Logan's need for Kendall to be inside of him seems insurmountable, and his mouth opens before any ramifications can settle in his overactive brain.
"Fuck me," Logan says.
"Please," Logan says. "Just do it."
Kendall pulls his lips from Logan's throat with a tiny pop. He looks at Logan -- his eyes full of questions -- so long Logan begins to squirm under the scrutiny. Kendall sees he's making Logan uncomfortable and smooths his hands up to Logan's face, expression softening.
Kendall watches his fingers as they run through Logan's hair, trace the bridge of his nose, tickle across his lips. He leaves his fingers on Logan's chin and smiles, halfway, a short disbelieving laugh escaping through his nose. Kendall shakes his head before he presses a chaste kiss against Logan's lips.
Logan is so enraptured by Kendall's warm mouth, he doesn't even notice Kendall reach into the night stand, doesn't notice Kendall slickening his fingers. In fact, Logan is so focused on the flavor of Kendall, the scent of his sweat-sheened skin, the only thing he does notice is Kendall pressing a finger inside him.
Logan tenses up a bit at the intrusion, and Kendall sits back on his haunches so that he can pump Logan's erection as he stretches the smaller boy's hole.
The sensation is amazing, Kendall's long fingers around him and inside him. It's so much, Logan starts muttering thoughtlessly, pushing his head into the pillow. He feels like he's floating away and only Kendall can keep him where he is. And Logan really wants to stay where he is. There's this tenderness, too, in every one of Kendall's movements, each press against that spot inside him.
Logan knows his treatment of Kendall has been unforgivable, yet Kendall is still taking the time to make sure Logan is ready, something Logan never did for Kendall, despite having wanted to.
Logan thinks he is in serious danger of exploding, feeling much too much.
"Please, now," Logan says, hips bucking and trembling.
So Kendall hooks one of Logan's knees over an arm, uses his free hand to line his cock up to Logan's opening. He gives Logan a final look, a final moment to back out, but Logan simply holds his steady gaze, panting, as Kendall sheathes himself in Logan's body.
He pauses, hips flush against Logan's ass, his brow furrowed in concentration and short, hot breaths escape his open mouth.
All of it is too much for Logan, just as he's always feared, and he's so fucking full, not just with Kendall's dick but with everything else the blond pours into him, thoughts and emotions that even a genius like Logan has no hope of taking stock. And when Kendall opens his eyes to look at Logan, judge his reaction, the leafy green iris swallowed up by the window of Kendall’s pupil, Logan has to close his own eyes against the burning.
Kendall misjudges Logan's reaction for pain. "It gets better, I promise," he whispers leaning down to kiss Logan as he begins to thrust.
Logan doesn't think he can handle it if things get much better.
Kendall covers Logan’s body with his own, burrowing his arms under Logan’s back, squeezing him so close Logan can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care, because he’s holding Kendall just as close, fingernails biting into the flesh of Kendall’s hips urging him to thrust harder.
They are an arpeggio, cards in bicycle spokes, the steady patter of raindrops in a storm. It feels like this is happening so fast, when in reality it’s something budded when they were small and naïve, when the word “love” slipped past their lips as easily as they skinned their knees. They are trying to manifest a feeling, make it tangible with fingers and hips and heartbeats and mouths.
Logan always knew the science of love, the chemicals released. He’s always known it’s the brain producing love, all that bullshit about heart-love being complete…well…bullshit. Your heart has nothing to do with love, Logan always thought.
But when Kendall’s rosy lips murmur words of forever against Logan’s throat, when Kendall’s hips move just right, when Kendall looks straight into Logan’s soul and sees every filthy, despicable thing and still kisses his lips, Logan’s heart skips a beat. He thinks maybe science has little to do with it. He thinks maybe he’s starting to get what all those love songs mean.
This isn’t just fucking; this isn’t just getting off.
After he comes into a million pieces, after Kendall pulls Logan in and tangles their legs until they are indistinguishable as separate, Logan wonders how he can ever forget, especially when he doesn’t want to.
~oOo~
Kendall wakes up to Logan mumbling in his sleep. Logan’s back is against Kendall’s chest, and the covers have been pushed to the floor. Kendall takes the moment to appreciate Logan’s naked body, skin winter-silver in the blue moonlight streaming through the curtains. He traces a line down Logan’s torso with his index finger, watching in awe as gooseflesh erupts over Logan’s rib cage. Logan’s breathing speeds as he wakes.
“Tickles,” Logan mutters, grabbing Kendall’s hand and clutching it between his own, just over his heart. He wakes enough to kiss each of Kendall’s fingers.
“You’re really here,” Logan says, arching his back and pressing his ass into Kendall’s groin. Kendall hums, presses his lips against Logan’s neck.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kendall asks.
“Dunno,” Logan replies. “I had a dream.” He doesn’t offer anymore, but moves against Kendall, swivels his hips.
“You really like me like this? Just…me?” Logan questions, whispers, as though he’s afraid to ask.
“It’s more than just “like”, Logan,” Kendall answers. Logan doesn’t dwell on the subject anymore, writhing against Kendall until all the blond can think about is being inside the other boy.
“Want you,” Kendall whispers, taking Logan’s earlobe between his teeth.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Kendall answers, moving his hips and pressing into Logan’s opening without much effort, Logan still slick from before, both hissing in tandem at being connected again. Kendall pulls back slowly, pushes back in at the same pace.
“Are you sore?” Kendall asks, buried to the hilt inside Logan, the brunet wiggling and grinding against Kendall’s hips.
“A little,” Logan answers. “Doesn’t matter. I want to feel you. I don’t want to forget how this feels.” His voice tapers into almost nothing, and a dark, dreaded feeling whispers up Kendall’s spine.
Instead of addressing it, Kendall pulls out, snaps his hips forward, a satisfying slap echoing into the quiet room.
”Mmm, yes, just like that.” Logan reaches behind him, digs his fingers into Kendall’s ass.
Kendall thrusts forward again and again and again until Logan is nearly shouting. “Harder,” he demands, so Kendall pounds into him harder.
“God, you feel so good, Ken,” Logan says, repeats it over and over.
Hands travelling down Logan’s stomach, Kendall grasps Logan’s cock, begins to pump with each thrust. Kendall doesn’t want Logan to forget either, so he pushes into Logan with as much force as he can muster and holds him there, lets go of Logan’s cock to wrap both arms around his chest as though he might run away.
“I love you, Logan,” Kendall says.
Logan only replies with a groan, a sound unfurling from his throat that might be pain or pleasure or some hybrid of the two.
Kendall clutches Logan like he’s a temporary thing, like Logan will turn to vapor, notes of music and slip through his arms.
He tries to convince himself, as he shouts Logan’s name when he comes, that he’s not begging.
He tries to convince himself this isn’t ending as it’s only just beginning.
But Kendall knows Logan.
Some things, even Kendall Knight can’t fix.
~oOo~
Logan doesn’t want to be that guy.
The guy who cheats on his girlfriend and lies to his friends.
The guy who doesn’t have parents because they can’t accept who he is.
The guy who gets married and has kids and lives a life in the closet because he’s afraid.
No matter what Logan does, he’s going to be some version of that guy.
Logan is a coward. But he has a father, friends, fans.
“We can’t do this anymore,” Logan says when they park at the Palmwoods.
Kendall’s face isn’t shocked, but it is sad. Logan knows love has something to do with the heart, because he’s pretty sure he hears a duet of hearts breaking when the words pass his lips.
Logan can see Kendall take a thick swallow.
“What about us?”
“Would it make it easier if I told you I love you?” Logan chokes, the words burning sweet and sour.
Kendall shakes his head. “No, not at all.”
This way, Logan only hurts one person.
Even if that person is the last person Logan would ever want to hurt.
In all actuality, he’s hurting two people, if he counts himself.
Logan has never counted himself.