Fic: When the Music Stops, Part 5/?
Title: When the Music Stops
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Romance
Pairings: Logan/Kendall
Details: Slash, AU
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Adult situations (i.e. smut) at some point, mild angst, swearing
Status: WIP
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: An accident keeps Logan and his parents from moving to Minnesota. When Kendall and Logan meet years later, Kendall hears clear as a bell. Logan doesn't. "Sitting on a speaker instead of a drummer's throne, Logan turns up the bass, pounding out any bitterness he had let fester in his heart. He won't leave himself to rot, not anymore."
Masterlist
-L-
Parking his car in front of the tiny house, Logan's stomach twists in trepidation. Kendall had offered to pay Logan's cab fare, which Logan thought very gracious, but there was no reason Logan couldn't just drive. Of course, he isn't familiar with L.A. yet, at all, so the offer was tempting. Logan couldn't let an almost-stranger do that for him though; cab fare is super expensive.
There had been a lot to see on the thirty minute drive; too bad Logan was too focused on gripping the steering wheel with bruising force to notice. He's holding it tightly still, his knuckles bright white against the gray interior of his car. His foot is tapping out an accompaniment to the pounding in his chest, and he's practicing his percussion without even realizing it.
"I should be at home sleeping," he mumbles to himself. "It's not like I don't have a class first thing in the morning."
It's not a good start to the relationship if Logan already can't refuse the blond guy. How will he react when Kendall starts asking him questions about himself? And how dumb is it to go to some area of town he doesn't know, just to meet up with three practical strangers? Logan thinks he could wind up beaten, raped and mugged by morning. He dismisses the thought as swiftly as it comes on, because there's something in Kendall he trusts, as unlikely as it should be.
He sits so long that Kendall comes outside and knocks on the window of Logan's car. He jumps when he feels the slight vibration through his grip on the steering wheel, and he turns to see Kendall smiling at him through the glass pane.
"You planning on sitting out here all night?" Kendall says, his face illuminated by the yellow street light. Logan shakes his head and pulls his keys from the ignition, opens the door and slides out of the car. He stands in front of Kendall for a moment, Kendall wearing pajama pants and a plaid button-up shirt. Logan is struck by how laid back the other guy seems. Like he could fit in anywhere. Like skyscrapers could fall down around him and he wouldn't be moved by it. Logan wonders what it's like to be that confident, and he's feeling more than a little overdressed in his sweater vest.
Kendall finally breaks the silence. "Sorry to spring this on you. It just probably would've been the weekend before we all could get together again."
Logan shrugs. "It's no big deal."
"I'm sorry," Kendall apologizes again. "That's kind of a lie. I kind of wanted to hang out with you sooner rather than later. Is that creepy? Oh god, I'm totally creeping you out, aren't I?"
"No, dude, no. It's fine. Although, I'm wondering if maybe I should be creeped out as much as you worry I am." Logan laughs in an awkward, nervous way and shoves his hands in his pockets. It's nice, someone wanting to spend time with him. It's not something he's had before. Sure, Camille seeks him out, makes him do things he wouldn't normally, but this seems different somehow. More welcome.
"Yeah, but no," Kendall says, "I don't want to creep you out."
"You're not, and I appreciate your honesty." Logan nods - genteel - smiles and tries to swallow down the guilt rising in his throat.
"Come on in and meet James and Carlos," Kendall says, ushering Logan to the door of the small house. They stand on the porch and Kendall looks Logan up and down, causing Logan to fidget.
"You nervous?" Kendall asks.
Logan doesn't lie about it. "Yeah, just a lot."
"Don't be." Kendall makes a dismissive gesture with his hands, his mouth quirking halfway. "These guys are clowns and you're awesome. I bet you even eat with rhythm."
"Really?"
"Absolutely, man. Just now, when you walked up to the porch, it was in perfect time. Even your steps groove."
"Huh." Logan has one of those moments where he wishes he could hear, wishes he could remember what his footfalls sounded like, wishes he could remember the sound of his mother's voice, wishes he could hear Kendall's voice now. There's no time to feel sorry for himself though, not anymore. "I've never noticed."
Kendall gets this unfocused look on his face - which Logan has quickly realized happens often - and he's just kind of staring in the direction of Logan's mouth. Logan crosses his eyes and looks down, wondering if he has a booger or something stuck in his teeth. Kendall says, "I have a feeling there's a lot about yourself you don't notice."
Logan snorts. "What does that even mean?"
Before answering, Kendall steps closer to Logan, close enough so that Logan smells the laundry detergent on Kendall's clothes, the soap on his skin. He's close enough that Logan can see Kendall's eyes dilate, the color of his iris shifting like a firework. Kendall opens his mouth to speak.
Logan assumes Kendall is interrupted by a noise from indoors because he jumps and looks at the house. Kendall is shaken from whatever daze he was in, and he says, "Uh, guess we'd better get in there." Opening the door, he gestures for Logan to go inside.
"You first," Logan says, standing back. Kendall laughs but understands, leading Logan indoors.
The entryway leads right into a moderately sized living room, and Logan notices immediately they don't have a couch but numerous bean bag chairs scattered throughout. There's no TV, nothing on the walls but a poster of Wayne Gretsky that looks older than Logan. An old wooden bar separates the living room from the kitchen and on it there appear to be some family photos.
Kendall notices Logan observing the surroundings. "It's not much, but it's home."
"It's everything I'd expect from three guys living on their own," Logan replies.
Kendall snorts. "You should see the Carlos shaped hole in the wall in the bedroom."
Logan's eyes go wide. "You guys all share a bedroom?"
"Well, there's only the one so we kind of have to."
"Are you guys, like, uh…you know?"
"What?" Kendall asks, brows furrowing but the pleasant smirk still firmly planted on his face.
"Are you guys like a big couple?" Logan whispers.
Kendall laughs out loud, throwing his arms over his middle as he doubles over. "First of a-all," Kendall gets out, hiccupping laughter in between, "ew, I've known those guys since we were practically in utero, so, ew, no. Second of all, doesn't a couple indicate two people? And here I thought you were a genius."
"I said a big couple," Logan answers, his face fire hot.
"Carlos and James have bunk beds. I'm in a twin. They're my best friends in the whole world. I love them, but not like that."
Okay, so, maybe it's a little strange to Logan; he didn't have friends growing up so he has no idea how friendship works. There's some longing along with Logan's confusion there, too, because the way Kendall talks about his friends seeps affection in every syllable.
What must that be like? To have someone who knows the way you work, finishes your sentences, loves you because they want to instead of some familial obligation.
Somebody else to pity me, Logan thinks, trying his best to let the idea of real friendship roll off his back.
There's another bang so loud Logan feels the house move, glances toward the door to what he assumes is the bedroom. Kendall puts a hand over his eyes and shakes his head. "Sorry," he says, "they can get pretty wild sometimes."
The door to the bedroom flies open and a short, tan guy comes bolting out, a helmet on his head. Quick on his heels is a very tall brunet who is almost too pretty to actually exist. They're both in pajamas and t-shirts, and Logan is really beginning to wonder why he even bothered getting dressed.
The duo proceeds to chase each other around the living room, the tall brunet shouting something at the smaller, although Logan isn't quite sure what he's saying because he's moving so fast. Maybe something about a comb? They come running straight at Logan, so he tries to jump out of the way and ends up almost knocking Kendall down. Logan is apologizing and trying to quickly back away, because he doesn't want to let himself figure out how nice it feels to be so close to Kendall, and he winds up tripping over the other guy's feet. And Kendall must have some extremely quick reflexes because he wraps his arms around Logan's shoulders before he has the chance to fall. He straightens himself quickly, gets his feet back under himself.
"You okay?" Kendall laughs. "I keep having to apologize for those guys, don't I?" Logan shakes his head, eyes going to his hands fisted in the front of Kendall's shirt, and he becomes ridiculously aware of Kendall's hands gripping his shoulders, the heat of the other guy's palms soaking into his shoulders. He lets go of Kendall reluctantly and steps out of his hold.
"Carlos!" Kendall shouts, "James!" Logan watches the tightness of Kendall's neck, the movement of his throat at the change in volume. The noise in the house is loud enough so Logan hears that indecipherable hum.
James and Carlos stop fighting each other long enough to look in Kendall and Logan's direction. "What are you guys fighting about now?" Kendall asks.
"Carlos is holding Lucky hostage again!" James is quick to answer.
"Yeah, well, James ate my last corn dog!" Carlos replies.
Kendall says something back to them, and then the three of them are all talking so fast, Logan can't keep up. He's getting words here and there, but they're all talking at the same time. Logan feels that fear and guilt bubble expanding in his stomach, his chest, because how can he ever keep up the charade of being a normal, hearing guy when these three are obviously crazy?
Still, Logan likes them, all three of them. Seeing them together, arguing but without apparent malice, their movements almost appearing choreographed, has Logan yearning to be a part of it, have a family by choice. It's so strange, the way they're standing, almost as though leaving a spot for Logan to join in the argument if he wanted. He's never felt so welcome despite the fact he is being completely ignored. And suddenly, he's not so nervous to play for them anymore, yet he's feeling even worse about keeping secrets.
"Stop!" Kendall shouts. The other two arguing guys stop talking. "James, buy more corndogs tomorrow. Carlos, give James his comb back." They both roll their eyes and huff, but agree. "Now apologize and hug it out."
Carlos and James let loose their crossed arms and reluctantly embrace each other.
"Now, this is Logan," Kendall says, gesturing in Logan's direction with both arms.
"Oh, hi, Logan!" Carlos exclaims, moving in and shaking Logan's hand. "I didn't even see you there. I'm Carlos." Carlos is exuberant and boyish, his smile brilliant against his dark skin. Everything about him seems warm, and Logan likes him immediately, returning the bright grin.
"Nice to meet you, Carlos."
"And I'm James." James steps in front of Carlos, taking Logan's hand and giving him - what Logan assumes should be - a charming smile. "I'm digging the sweater vest, man."
"Uh, thanks?"
"No, I mean it," James says. "You're handsome too, but not handsomer than me, so that's great."
Logan doesn't know how he should take that comment.
Kendall cuts in front of James and says, "Logan, from James that's a huge compliment. The most I've gotten from him is your face is unique, so yeah."
"Oh, huh, okay," Logan replies, an awkward smile on his face at the scrutiny. "You guys ready to play?"
"Yeah, I am!" Carlos interjects. "It'll be fun."
They lead him into a room off the kitchen. It's about the size of a normal bedroom but there are shelves all around. It's not quite a basement, but more like a big -
"This is our Pantry of Perfect Pitch," Kendall says, arms held out wide. "And there's your drum kit."
James stands up straight, jabs an index finger in the air. "Not his yet. We have standards."
Kendall laughs and leans in to Logan, whispers something in his ear. When Kendall pulls back, he's smiling, so Logan just smiles back, his stomach churning with remorse and something else. Something else from the way Kendall's breath was so warm on Logan's skin.
Logan walks over to the drum kit and lets out a long, low whistle. "These drums have seen better days."
James goes to stand next to Logan and look at the drums. "It's all Carlos's fault."
"It is not, James, and you know it!"
"Guys, guys, just stop it!" Kendall shouts, immediately quieting the other two guys.
"Anyway," James starts, "if, if we like how you sound you can bring your drums over." Then he smiles, as though he's being horribly sweet and generous. He hands the drumsticks over to Logan who thinks maybe James is a little self-absorbed.
"So what are we playing?" Logan asks, settling down on the drummer's throne, moving to check the tightness of the tension rods, lazily tapping one of the sticks on the drum head.
"Is 'Semi-Charmed Life' okay? Do you know that one?" Kendall asks. "I'm kind of a '90s alternative nerd." Logan is pretty sure Kendall tries to look apologetic but can't quite pull it off, his dimples deepening despite his pursed lips.
Truth be told, Logan is only a lot thrilled that Kendall has chosen that particular Third Eye Blind song. It's got an amazing, fun beat and Logan actually remembers what it sounded like. His mother would turn the sound up, just a little, when it came on the radio, until she actually listened to the lyrics. After that, she would turn it down. Logan couldn't have been more than four or five when the song was popular, but he remembers it made him want to jump up and down and move. Naturally, it was one of the first songs Logan wanted to learn on the drums simply because it had been shunned by his mother. That's how parenting works. If a parent wants their kids to do something, just tell them not to.
"Yeah, that's fine, man. I guess you could say I'm a '90s alternative nerd, too, since…" he stops himself before saying anything about his accident, anything about pop songs from the '90s and early 2000s being the only true music he remembers in full.
"Since what?" Kendall asks.
"Nothing really. Just since those are some of the first songs I remember," Logan replies, in turn trying to keep a straight face and failing. It's enough truth so that Logan can feel okay about it. Besides, he's grinning, excited, because he knows even on these shoddy old drums, he's about to blow the guys away.
Carlos straps on his bass and plugs it into a small amp to Logan's left; to the right Kendall does the same with his guitar. James adjusts his microphone, making sure all the connections are good to go. Logan can feel the shift in the air when the amps are powered on, the electric buzz making his hands itch to start pounding out the rhythm.
"I feel like I should mention I've never played with a live band before," Logan says once everyone is settled and staring at him, waiting on him to do something.
"That's no problem, Logan," Kendall answers, because Logan was looking at him for a response. "Just count us in whenever you're ready."
"On three?" Logan asks. Kendall nods and Logan returns it, takes a deep breath before raising his sticks, hitting them against each other and setting the rhythm.
"One, two, three..." Logan says, hoping he's loud enough, and then he's off, pounding out the first few strikes before he's accompanied by the others.
Logan was worried the bass wouldn't be loud enough for him to really feel, but he gets the groove easily, Carlos slapping the strings and moving his head in time with Logan's beat. James sings and Kendall is backing him up, and the different sounds in the air flow through the equipment, into the ground and travel into Logan. The old, wooden floor is perfect, carrying the reverberation of the voices and instruments straight into Logan's chest and head, and he wants to close his eyes and bask in it.
He thought the thrill of playing on his own was something, really something, but the pleasure of playing with a live band jolts straight up Logan's spine, through his arms and down to his fingertips as he pounds away. He is joy and sound and strength and drum strikes and bliss and normal. No, Logan thinks, he is better than normal. This is what it feels like to be extraordinary.
When Carlos drops out on the bass a few bars, and it's just Logan and Kendall playing, James singing, Logan looks to Kendall who is giving him one of those weird stares again, just grinning at Logan like an idiot. Logan gives him a dopey grin right back, because this is fantastic. And Logan is smiling and pretending these guys are his best friends and that he's known them his whole life and he can hear the sounds they're making together. Logan almost thinks he can hear them all clearly, James' voice smooth yet powerful, Carlos's playful bass, Kendall's intense guitar, Logan guiding them along with every strike.
Logan isn't ready for the song to end, but it does. When the music stops is always the moment Logan fears the most, because the quiet in his head that comes after is often frightening, reminds him how alone he is.
But he's not alone now.
-K-
Kendall is dumbstruck. He can do nothing but grin when the song is finished, and he knows he's doing that creepy staring thing again, but he just can't stop. Because something about Logan and music just makes the guy look so fucking happy, and it fills up the room ratcheting up Kendall's joy. He's always loved music, loves making it, but Logan obviously breathes it, lives it. And watching Logan while he joyfully beat on the drum kit, his knee bouncing up and down as he banged the bass drum, made Kendall want to know everything about him. His favorite color, his middle name, the day he started playing, his birthday and maybe whether or not he's ever picked out names for potential children.
"That was amazing!" Carlos exclaims, tripping over cords and making his way to Logan, pounding him on the shoulder. Logan is obviously breathless, riding high on exhilaration because he only smiles, dimples on flushed cheeks.
"I think we need a band meeting to discuss this," James interrupts, gesturing to the kitchen with his head.
"What is there to discuss?" Kendall asks.
James, straight-faced and serious, replies, "To discuss whether or not we want Logan in the band, of course."
Kendall usually isn't bothered by James' foolery, his mock-seriousness, but something about the fact James feels the issue even needs discussing makes him almost angry. Annoyed.
"James, don't be an assho -"
"No, it's fine," Logan jumps in. "He's right. You guys should talk about it. Would it be rude if I asked for something to drink?"
"Not at all," Kendall says. He's still side-eyeing James. They need Logan in their band. "There's bottled water and soda in the refrigerator. Help yourself."
As soon as Logan exits the room, James says, "He's great. But I think we should see if he can play along with one of our original songs on the fly."
"James, does that really matter?" Kendall objects.
"Yes, it matters. We're not going to be doing covers our whole career."
"I don't think he'd mind, Kendall. And I'm sure he can do it," Carlos says, taking over Kendall's general role of peacekeeper.
"I just don't want to scare him off," Kendall says, looking down to his feet and busying himself with kicking around a cord.
"Why does it matter anyway?" James asks.
"Can't you feel he belongs with us?" Kendall answers, head snapping up and meeting James' eyes.
"I can!" Carlos interjects.
"Is that what this feeling is?" James asks. "I just thought Carlos's corndog was funky."
"Shut up, James," Kendall says.
"I kind of feel like he's hiding something," James remarks, forefinger and thumb cradling his chin.
"That's because we just have to get to know him." Kendall gets offended on Logan's behalf, his annoyance growing. James holds up his hands in defense.
"I like him, too, man, but I'm just saying," James says. "Are we bringing him back in here or what?"
"Sure, yeah, fine."
Carlos goes to get Logan and brings him back, and Logan readily agrees to make an accompaniment for one of their original songs. However, there is some strain behind his eyes Kendall spots, something more going on that almost makes Kendall believe James is right. He quickly forgets it though, because James isn't right very often.
"There's just one thing," Logan says, "and you guys might think it's weird."
"O-kay," James says.
Logan fidgets a little, and it's so damn cute, before he says, "Could you guys play it through once so I can feel the whole thing before joining in?"
"Yes, no problem," Kendall readily agrees.
"Wait, what's so weird about that?" Carlos asks.
"Well, while you're playing, would it be okay if I put my hands on the speakers?" Logan says, noticing the perplexed looks he gets, he quickly adds, "It's kind of a ritual thing for me."
"Ah, okay. No, ritual isn't weird. Carlos won't play without his helmet on and James insists he can't wear socks and sing at the same time," Kendall says.
"Good," Logan breathes, appearing relieved. "Just go ahead and start and don't mind me."
Kendall counts them in and they start to play, and he really tries not to stare at Logan. It's fucking difficult because he's getting on his knees at Carlos's bass amp and running his hands across it with crazy concentration etched into his face. He's frowning and intense and Kendall wants to know what that feels like. After a few moments of hands on the amp, Logan lowers himself further and presses a cheek to the top, one hand on the speaker and the other on the back. Then he closes his eyes and Kendall thinks he might be asleep until he sits up quickly, moves to the amp Kendall is plugged to and repeats the whole thing.
He finally breaks away from staring at Logan because he can feel James' eyes boring into his head. He glances over at James who is quirking a brow at him. Kendall just shakes his head and decides to keep his eyes on his fingers.
When the song is over, Logan rises to his feet and says, "That's a great song. Would it be too forward to make a suggestion?"
Kendall, who wrote the song, shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm no stranger to concrit," he says, pointedly looking at James.
Logan laughs, low and fond. "I think if you keyed it up one it would feel better. It's a bit low for the vocals. That's it."
Kendall quickly toys with his guitar, plucks a few strings and strums a few chords in a higher key. James hums along with him.
"Huh. I think you're right," Kendall says.
"You guys wanna try it that way?" Logan asks, turning to Carlos looking for his approval as well. He gains it easily, and Logan bounds over to the drum kit and settles in.
"On three?" Logan asks.
"On three," Kendall replies.
Logan kills it, just like Kendall knew he would. There is only a place or two where Logan trips up, but it wouldn't be noticeable if not for the fact that Logan pounds the snare a little harder, the toms a little louder after the misstep, as though he has something to prove, as though he's trying to make up for the imperceptible mistake.
And it's even better than the first song they all played together, because this sound is theirs. Not manufactured of borrowed. They all come together and flow apart and play like their lives depend on it, and it's beautiful and scary and everything Kendall could've dreamed when they moved to California. Even if they are never famous, Kendall thinks, it's been worth it just to jam with his favorite people in the world.
It's strange that Kendall would count Logan amongst his favorite people, but he doesn't hesitate to do so. Logan is here now, and it's like he always has been.
When they are finished, the last reverb echoing in the air, Logan touches the cymbal to stop the ringing. First he looks at Kendall, then Carlos, finally James.
"Am I in?" he asks. Kendall and Carlos look to James also, because it's really his approval they're all waiting for.
James smiles, and it's one of his real ones, his super-duper, amazingly, stupidly happy ones.
"You're in," he replies, making his way to Logan in two long strides and shaking his hand. "How are you even a real person?"
Kendall shouts, "That's what I keep saying!"
Part Six
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Romance
Pairings: Logan/Kendall
Details: Slash, AU
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Adult situations (i.e. smut) at some point, mild angst, swearing
Status: WIP
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: An accident keeps Logan and his parents from moving to Minnesota. When Kendall and Logan meet years later, Kendall hears clear as a bell. Logan doesn't. "Sitting on a speaker instead of a drummer's throne, Logan turns up the bass, pounding out any bitterness he had let fester in his heart. He won't leave himself to rot, not anymore."
Masterlist
-L-
Parking his car in front of the tiny house, Logan's stomach twists in trepidation. Kendall had offered to pay Logan's cab fare, which Logan thought very gracious, but there was no reason Logan couldn't just drive. Of course, he isn't familiar with L.A. yet, at all, so the offer was tempting. Logan couldn't let an almost-stranger do that for him though; cab fare is super expensive.
There had been a lot to see on the thirty minute drive; too bad Logan was too focused on gripping the steering wheel with bruising force to notice. He's holding it tightly still, his knuckles bright white against the gray interior of his car. His foot is tapping out an accompaniment to the pounding in his chest, and he's practicing his percussion without even realizing it.
"I should be at home sleeping," he mumbles to himself. "It's not like I don't have a class first thing in the morning."
It's not a good start to the relationship if Logan already can't refuse the blond guy. How will he react when Kendall starts asking him questions about himself? And how dumb is it to go to some area of town he doesn't know, just to meet up with three practical strangers? Logan thinks he could wind up beaten, raped and mugged by morning. He dismisses the thought as swiftly as it comes on, because there's something in Kendall he trusts, as unlikely as it should be.
He sits so long that Kendall comes outside and knocks on the window of Logan's car. He jumps when he feels the slight vibration through his grip on the steering wheel, and he turns to see Kendall smiling at him through the glass pane.
"You planning on sitting out here all night?" Kendall says, his face illuminated by the yellow street light. Logan shakes his head and pulls his keys from the ignition, opens the door and slides out of the car. He stands in front of Kendall for a moment, Kendall wearing pajama pants and a plaid button-up shirt. Logan is struck by how laid back the other guy seems. Like he could fit in anywhere. Like skyscrapers could fall down around him and he wouldn't be moved by it. Logan wonders what it's like to be that confident, and he's feeling more than a little overdressed in his sweater vest.
Kendall finally breaks the silence. "Sorry to spring this on you. It just probably would've been the weekend before we all could get together again."
Logan shrugs. "It's no big deal."
"I'm sorry," Kendall apologizes again. "That's kind of a lie. I kind of wanted to hang out with you sooner rather than later. Is that creepy? Oh god, I'm totally creeping you out, aren't I?"
"No, dude, no. It's fine. Although, I'm wondering if maybe I should be creeped out as much as you worry I am." Logan laughs in an awkward, nervous way and shoves his hands in his pockets. It's nice, someone wanting to spend time with him. It's not something he's had before. Sure, Camille seeks him out, makes him do things he wouldn't normally, but this seems different somehow. More welcome.
"Yeah, but no," Kendall says, "I don't want to creep you out."
"You're not, and I appreciate your honesty." Logan nods - genteel - smiles and tries to swallow down the guilt rising in his throat.
"Come on in and meet James and Carlos," Kendall says, ushering Logan to the door of the small house. They stand on the porch and Kendall looks Logan up and down, causing Logan to fidget.
"You nervous?" Kendall asks.
Logan doesn't lie about it. "Yeah, just a lot."
"Don't be." Kendall makes a dismissive gesture with his hands, his mouth quirking halfway. "These guys are clowns and you're awesome. I bet you even eat with rhythm."
"Really?"
"Absolutely, man. Just now, when you walked up to the porch, it was in perfect time. Even your steps groove."
"Huh." Logan has one of those moments where he wishes he could hear, wishes he could remember what his footfalls sounded like, wishes he could remember the sound of his mother's voice, wishes he could hear Kendall's voice now. There's no time to feel sorry for himself though, not anymore. "I've never noticed."
Kendall gets this unfocused look on his face - which Logan has quickly realized happens often - and he's just kind of staring in the direction of Logan's mouth. Logan crosses his eyes and looks down, wondering if he has a booger or something stuck in his teeth. Kendall says, "I have a feeling there's a lot about yourself you don't notice."
Logan snorts. "What does that even mean?"
Before answering, Kendall steps closer to Logan, close enough so that Logan smells the laundry detergent on Kendall's clothes, the soap on his skin. He's close enough that Logan can see Kendall's eyes dilate, the color of his iris shifting like a firework. Kendall opens his mouth to speak.
Logan assumes Kendall is interrupted by a noise from indoors because he jumps and looks at the house. Kendall is shaken from whatever daze he was in, and he says, "Uh, guess we'd better get in there." Opening the door, he gestures for Logan to go inside.
"You first," Logan says, standing back. Kendall laughs but understands, leading Logan indoors.
The entryway leads right into a moderately sized living room, and Logan notices immediately they don't have a couch but numerous bean bag chairs scattered throughout. There's no TV, nothing on the walls but a poster of Wayne Gretsky that looks older than Logan. An old wooden bar separates the living room from the kitchen and on it there appear to be some family photos.
Kendall notices Logan observing the surroundings. "It's not much, but it's home."
"It's everything I'd expect from three guys living on their own," Logan replies.
Kendall snorts. "You should see the Carlos shaped hole in the wall in the bedroom."
Logan's eyes go wide. "You guys all share a bedroom?"
"Well, there's only the one so we kind of have to."
"Are you guys, like, uh…you know?"
"What?" Kendall asks, brows furrowing but the pleasant smirk still firmly planted on his face.
"Are you guys like a big couple?" Logan whispers.
Kendall laughs out loud, throwing his arms over his middle as he doubles over. "First of a-all," Kendall gets out, hiccupping laughter in between, "ew, I've known those guys since we were practically in utero, so, ew, no. Second of all, doesn't a couple indicate two people? And here I thought you were a genius."
"I said a big couple," Logan answers, his face fire hot.
"Carlos and James have bunk beds. I'm in a twin. They're my best friends in the whole world. I love them, but not like that."
Okay, so, maybe it's a little strange to Logan; he didn't have friends growing up so he has no idea how friendship works. There's some longing along with Logan's confusion there, too, because the way Kendall talks about his friends seeps affection in every syllable.
What must that be like? To have someone who knows the way you work, finishes your sentences, loves you because they want to instead of some familial obligation.
Somebody else to pity me, Logan thinks, trying his best to let the idea of real friendship roll off his back.
There's another bang so loud Logan feels the house move, glances toward the door to what he assumes is the bedroom. Kendall puts a hand over his eyes and shakes his head. "Sorry," he says, "they can get pretty wild sometimes."
The door to the bedroom flies open and a short, tan guy comes bolting out, a helmet on his head. Quick on his heels is a very tall brunet who is almost too pretty to actually exist. They're both in pajamas and t-shirts, and Logan is really beginning to wonder why he even bothered getting dressed.
The duo proceeds to chase each other around the living room, the tall brunet shouting something at the smaller, although Logan isn't quite sure what he's saying because he's moving so fast. Maybe something about a comb? They come running straight at Logan, so he tries to jump out of the way and ends up almost knocking Kendall down. Logan is apologizing and trying to quickly back away, because he doesn't want to let himself figure out how nice it feels to be so close to Kendall, and he winds up tripping over the other guy's feet. And Kendall must have some extremely quick reflexes because he wraps his arms around Logan's shoulders before he has the chance to fall. He straightens himself quickly, gets his feet back under himself.
"You okay?" Kendall laughs. "I keep having to apologize for those guys, don't I?" Logan shakes his head, eyes going to his hands fisted in the front of Kendall's shirt, and he becomes ridiculously aware of Kendall's hands gripping his shoulders, the heat of the other guy's palms soaking into his shoulders. He lets go of Kendall reluctantly and steps out of his hold.
"Carlos!" Kendall shouts, "James!" Logan watches the tightness of Kendall's neck, the movement of his throat at the change in volume. The noise in the house is loud enough so Logan hears that indecipherable hum.
James and Carlos stop fighting each other long enough to look in Kendall and Logan's direction. "What are you guys fighting about now?" Kendall asks.
"Carlos is holding Lucky hostage again!" James is quick to answer.
"Yeah, well, James ate my last corn dog!" Carlos replies.
Kendall says something back to them, and then the three of them are all talking so fast, Logan can't keep up. He's getting words here and there, but they're all talking at the same time. Logan feels that fear and guilt bubble expanding in his stomach, his chest, because how can he ever keep up the charade of being a normal, hearing guy when these three are obviously crazy?
Still, Logan likes them, all three of them. Seeing them together, arguing but without apparent malice, their movements almost appearing choreographed, has Logan yearning to be a part of it, have a family by choice. It's so strange, the way they're standing, almost as though leaving a spot for Logan to join in the argument if he wanted. He's never felt so welcome despite the fact he is being completely ignored. And suddenly, he's not so nervous to play for them anymore, yet he's feeling even worse about keeping secrets.
"Stop!" Kendall shouts. The other two arguing guys stop talking. "James, buy more corndogs tomorrow. Carlos, give James his comb back." They both roll their eyes and huff, but agree. "Now apologize and hug it out."
Carlos and James let loose their crossed arms and reluctantly embrace each other.
"Now, this is Logan," Kendall says, gesturing in Logan's direction with both arms.
"Oh, hi, Logan!" Carlos exclaims, moving in and shaking Logan's hand. "I didn't even see you there. I'm Carlos." Carlos is exuberant and boyish, his smile brilliant against his dark skin. Everything about him seems warm, and Logan likes him immediately, returning the bright grin.
"Nice to meet you, Carlos."
"And I'm James." James steps in front of Carlos, taking Logan's hand and giving him - what Logan assumes should be - a charming smile. "I'm digging the sweater vest, man."
"Uh, thanks?"
"No, I mean it," James says. "You're handsome too, but not handsomer than me, so that's great."
Logan doesn't know how he should take that comment.
Kendall cuts in front of James and says, "Logan, from James that's a huge compliment. The most I've gotten from him is your face is unique, so yeah."
"Oh, huh, okay," Logan replies, an awkward smile on his face at the scrutiny. "You guys ready to play?"
"Yeah, I am!" Carlos interjects. "It'll be fun."
They lead him into a room off the kitchen. It's about the size of a normal bedroom but there are shelves all around. It's not quite a basement, but more like a big -
"This is our Pantry of Perfect Pitch," Kendall says, arms held out wide. "And there's your drum kit."
James stands up straight, jabs an index finger in the air. "Not his yet. We have standards."
Kendall laughs and leans in to Logan, whispers something in his ear. When Kendall pulls back, he's smiling, so Logan just smiles back, his stomach churning with remorse and something else. Something else from the way Kendall's breath was so warm on Logan's skin.
Logan walks over to the drum kit and lets out a long, low whistle. "These drums have seen better days."
James goes to stand next to Logan and look at the drums. "It's all Carlos's fault."
"It is not, James, and you know it!"
"Guys, guys, just stop it!" Kendall shouts, immediately quieting the other two guys.
"Anyway," James starts, "if, if we like how you sound you can bring your drums over." Then he smiles, as though he's being horribly sweet and generous. He hands the drumsticks over to Logan who thinks maybe James is a little self-absorbed.
"So what are we playing?" Logan asks, settling down on the drummer's throne, moving to check the tightness of the tension rods, lazily tapping one of the sticks on the drum head.
"Is 'Semi-Charmed Life' okay? Do you know that one?" Kendall asks. "I'm kind of a '90s alternative nerd." Logan is pretty sure Kendall tries to look apologetic but can't quite pull it off, his dimples deepening despite his pursed lips.
Truth be told, Logan is only a lot thrilled that Kendall has chosen that particular Third Eye Blind song. It's got an amazing, fun beat and Logan actually remembers what it sounded like. His mother would turn the sound up, just a little, when it came on the radio, until she actually listened to the lyrics. After that, she would turn it down. Logan couldn't have been more than four or five when the song was popular, but he remembers it made him want to jump up and down and move. Naturally, it was one of the first songs Logan wanted to learn on the drums simply because it had been shunned by his mother. That's how parenting works. If a parent wants their kids to do something, just tell them not to.
"Yeah, that's fine, man. I guess you could say I'm a '90s alternative nerd, too, since…" he stops himself before saying anything about his accident, anything about pop songs from the '90s and early 2000s being the only true music he remembers in full.
"Since what?" Kendall asks.
"Nothing really. Just since those are some of the first songs I remember," Logan replies, in turn trying to keep a straight face and failing. It's enough truth so that Logan can feel okay about it. Besides, he's grinning, excited, because he knows even on these shoddy old drums, he's about to blow the guys away.
Carlos straps on his bass and plugs it into a small amp to Logan's left; to the right Kendall does the same with his guitar. James adjusts his microphone, making sure all the connections are good to go. Logan can feel the shift in the air when the amps are powered on, the electric buzz making his hands itch to start pounding out the rhythm.
"I feel like I should mention I've never played with a live band before," Logan says once everyone is settled and staring at him, waiting on him to do something.
"That's no problem, Logan," Kendall answers, because Logan was looking at him for a response. "Just count us in whenever you're ready."
"On three?" Logan asks. Kendall nods and Logan returns it, takes a deep breath before raising his sticks, hitting them against each other and setting the rhythm.
"One, two, three..." Logan says, hoping he's loud enough, and then he's off, pounding out the first few strikes before he's accompanied by the others.
Logan was worried the bass wouldn't be loud enough for him to really feel, but he gets the groove easily, Carlos slapping the strings and moving his head in time with Logan's beat. James sings and Kendall is backing him up, and the different sounds in the air flow through the equipment, into the ground and travel into Logan. The old, wooden floor is perfect, carrying the reverberation of the voices and instruments straight into Logan's chest and head, and he wants to close his eyes and bask in it.
He thought the thrill of playing on his own was something, really something, but the pleasure of playing with a live band jolts straight up Logan's spine, through his arms and down to his fingertips as he pounds away. He is joy and sound and strength and drum strikes and bliss and normal. No, Logan thinks, he is better than normal. This is what it feels like to be extraordinary.
When Carlos drops out on the bass a few bars, and it's just Logan and Kendall playing, James singing, Logan looks to Kendall who is giving him one of those weird stares again, just grinning at Logan like an idiot. Logan gives him a dopey grin right back, because this is fantastic. And Logan is smiling and pretending these guys are his best friends and that he's known them his whole life and he can hear the sounds they're making together. Logan almost thinks he can hear them all clearly, James' voice smooth yet powerful, Carlos's playful bass, Kendall's intense guitar, Logan guiding them along with every strike.
Logan isn't ready for the song to end, but it does. When the music stops is always the moment Logan fears the most, because the quiet in his head that comes after is often frightening, reminds him how alone he is.
But he's not alone now.
-K-
Kendall is dumbstruck. He can do nothing but grin when the song is finished, and he knows he's doing that creepy staring thing again, but he just can't stop. Because something about Logan and music just makes the guy look so fucking happy, and it fills up the room ratcheting up Kendall's joy. He's always loved music, loves making it, but Logan obviously breathes it, lives it. And watching Logan while he joyfully beat on the drum kit, his knee bouncing up and down as he banged the bass drum, made Kendall want to know everything about him. His favorite color, his middle name, the day he started playing, his birthday and maybe whether or not he's ever picked out names for potential children.
"That was amazing!" Carlos exclaims, tripping over cords and making his way to Logan, pounding him on the shoulder. Logan is obviously breathless, riding high on exhilaration because he only smiles, dimples on flushed cheeks.
"I think we need a band meeting to discuss this," James interrupts, gesturing to the kitchen with his head.
"What is there to discuss?" Kendall asks.
James, straight-faced and serious, replies, "To discuss whether or not we want Logan in the band, of course."
Kendall usually isn't bothered by James' foolery, his mock-seriousness, but something about the fact James feels the issue even needs discussing makes him almost angry. Annoyed.
"James, don't be an assho -"
"No, it's fine," Logan jumps in. "He's right. You guys should talk about it. Would it be rude if I asked for something to drink?"
"Not at all," Kendall says. He's still side-eyeing James. They need Logan in their band. "There's bottled water and soda in the refrigerator. Help yourself."
As soon as Logan exits the room, James says, "He's great. But I think we should see if he can play along with one of our original songs on the fly."
"James, does that really matter?" Kendall objects.
"Yes, it matters. We're not going to be doing covers our whole career."
"I don't think he'd mind, Kendall. And I'm sure he can do it," Carlos says, taking over Kendall's general role of peacekeeper.
"I just don't want to scare him off," Kendall says, looking down to his feet and busying himself with kicking around a cord.
"Why does it matter anyway?" James asks.
"Can't you feel he belongs with us?" Kendall answers, head snapping up and meeting James' eyes.
"I can!" Carlos interjects.
"Is that what this feeling is?" James asks. "I just thought Carlos's corndog was funky."
"Shut up, James," Kendall says.
"I kind of feel like he's hiding something," James remarks, forefinger and thumb cradling his chin.
"That's because we just have to get to know him." Kendall gets offended on Logan's behalf, his annoyance growing. James holds up his hands in defense.
"I like him, too, man, but I'm just saying," James says. "Are we bringing him back in here or what?"
"Sure, yeah, fine."
Carlos goes to get Logan and brings him back, and Logan readily agrees to make an accompaniment for one of their original songs. However, there is some strain behind his eyes Kendall spots, something more going on that almost makes Kendall believe James is right. He quickly forgets it though, because James isn't right very often.
"There's just one thing," Logan says, "and you guys might think it's weird."
"O-kay," James says.
Logan fidgets a little, and it's so damn cute, before he says, "Could you guys play it through once so I can feel the whole thing before joining in?"
"Yes, no problem," Kendall readily agrees.
"Wait, what's so weird about that?" Carlos asks.
"Well, while you're playing, would it be okay if I put my hands on the speakers?" Logan says, noticing the perplexed looks he gets, he quickly adds, "It's kind of a ritual thing for me."
"Ah, okay. No, ritual isn't weird. Carlos won't play without his helmet on and James insists he can't wear socks and sing at the same time," Kendall says.
"Good," Logan breathes, appearing relieved. "Just go ahead and start and don't mind me."
Kendall counts them in and they start to play, and he really tries not to stare at Logan. It's fucking difficult because he's getting on his knees at Carlos's bass amp and running his hands across it with crazy concentration etched into his face. He's frowning and intense and Kendall wants to know what that feels like. After a few moments of hands on the amp, Logan lowers himself further and presses a cheek to the top, one hand on the speaker and the other on the back. Then he closes his eyes and Kendall thinks he might be asleep until he sits up quickly, moves to the amp Kendall is plugged to and repeats the whole thing.
He finally breaks away from staring at Logan because he can feel James' eyes boring into his head. He glances over at James who is quirking a brow at him. Kendall just shakes his head and decides to keep his eyes on his fingers.
When the song is over, Logan rises to his feet and says, "That's a great song. Would it be too forward to make a suggestion?"
Kendall, who wrote the song, shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm no stranger to concrit," he says, pointedly looking at James.
Logan laughs, low and fond. "I think if you keyed it up one it would feel better. It's a bit low for the vocals. That's it."
Kendall quickly toys with his guitar, plucks a few strings and strums a few chords in a higher key. James hums along with him.
"Huh. I think you're right," Kendall says.
"You guys wanna try it that way?" Logan asks, turning to Carlos looking for his approval as well. He gains it easily, and Logan bounds over to the drum kit and settles in.
"On three?" Logan asks.
"On three," Kendall replies.
Logan kills it, just like Kendall knew he would. There is only a place or two where Logan trips up, but it wouldn't be noticeable if not for the fact that Logan pounds the snare a little harder, the toms a little louder after the misstep, as though he has something to prove, as though he's trying to make up for the imperceptible mistake.
And it's even better than the first song they all played together, because this sound is theirs. Not manufactured of borrowed. They all come together and flow apart and play like their lives depend on it, and it's beautiful and scary and everything Kendall could've dreamed when they moved to California. Even if they are never famous, Kendall thinks, it's been worth it just to jam with his favorite people in the world.
It's strange that Kendall would count Logan amongst his favorite people, but he doesn't hesitate to do so. Logan is here now, and it's like he always has been.
When they are finished, the last reverb echoing in the air, Logan touches the cymbal to stop the ringing. First he looks at Kendall, then Carlos, finally James.
"Am I in?" he asks. Kendall and Carlos look to James also, because it's really his approval they're all waiting for.
James smiles, and it's one of his real ones, his super-duper, amazingly, stupidly happy ones.
"You're in," he replies, making his way to Logan in two long strides and shaking his hand. "How are you even a real person?"
Kendall shouts, "That's what I keep saying!"
Part Six