Fic: The Realm of You, 8/?
Title: The Realm of You
Part: 8/?
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, Kendall/Jo
Details: AU, Slash
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content
Post Word Count: 993
Status: WIP
Summary: From friendship, to love, to something else entirely. When secrets are all they have, what is left when their lives become an open book? "I have no life but this."
Masterlist
Logan isn’t dumb. He never has been.
This isn’t the first time Kendall has starved himself, but this is definitely the farthest it’s ever gone.
They just had a fight, not about the not-eating, but about Kendall’s continued isolation, his slow destruction of self -- it all goes together anyway. Logan supposes he should be glad Kendall is at least drinking; alcohol has calories.
He wonders how Jo puts up with him. Logan wonders how he himself manages to put up with Kendall. They haven’t been anything like real friends in...years.
Not since Kendall told Logan he wasn’t allowed to lovelovelove Kendall in the real kind of way, not anymore. But Logan isn’t a light switch or a stereo; there is no temperature gauge attached to his heart he can adjust at will. No matter how frustrated Logan gets with Kendall, something about him draws Logan in, the song of a siren, a fly to honey.
Kendall has always been the center of attention, an entity with his own force of gravity, and Logan feels helpless to do anything but circle around him, never getting any closer.
Logan knows, surely as Kendall does, he will worry, he will love and support the other man until there is nothing left in the world but the memory of sound with no one around to hear it. There are days he thinks he shouldn’t, wishes he wouldn’t. Today is one of those days.
Now, he’s on the phone with Jo as she knocks on the bathroom door, some worry deep in Logan’s gut telling him Kendall shouldn’t be alone, and his pride too great to be the one to pick him up again.
“He’s not answering,” Jo says, her voice wavering only slightly.
“Maybe you should call his mom?” Logan offers. He rolls down the windows of his car, begs the wind to sweep away this aching sense of foreboding he has been carrying since the age of sixteen. He tries to put as much distance between himself and this situation as possible; he’s certain his heart can’t take anymore.
“God, Logan, he would get so mad at me,” she whispers. “You know he doesn’t want people to worry, but I don’t... I just can’t handle... I don’t know what to do anymore.” She sniffles and a quiet, heartbroken sound slides through the earpiece of the phone. Logan pulls over, closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the steering wheel. The sky is cruelly clear, the clouds feathering and curling against a blue sky that disappears into the ocean. Logan has this unjustified sense of offense that the sun could shine down so warm and so bright when Kendall is thoroughly fading, thinning out like the leaves in a Minnesota Autumn.
“So he might hate you,” Logan says, voice muffled. “But is it more important that he likes you or lives?”
Jo cries, the sound like a the first stirrings of a storm. “Logan, would you please come back? Please?” she begs. Logan easily deciphers what she really means, Let him hate you.
“Sure,” comes the laconic reply. Inside, he thinks, I’ll take the bullet again.
When he gets back to the condo Jo and Kendall share, he enters without knocking. He makes his way to the bathroom he knows Kendall has locked himself in, the tap, tap, tap of his shoes echoing and matching the rhythm in his chest. He finds Jo, sitting in the hallway across from the door, her face a mess of angry blotches and shiny trails of tears. She looks at Logan and begins to sob. Logan slides to the floor next to her, wraps his arm around her small shoulders and pulls her close.
“Why,” deep breath, “can’t I-I,” a sob, “make him better?” Jo throws her hands in the air.
Logan is beginning to believe -- has known actually -- when someone loves Kendall Knight in that all encompassing sort of way they are begging for tragedy. Jo’s heartbreak has been his own for as long as he can remember. He almost feels jealous she can cry over it, seek out comfort. So he takes some comfort in her, shares the burden, albeit quietly.
“It’s not up to you to make him better,” Logan says into Jo’s hair, the smell of sweat and worry and sorrow invading his nostrils.
“He won’t let me tell. He won’t let me tell anybody! How did it get this far so fast?” Her tears are quieting as she speaks, the strength in her words gaining.
“It’s been going on a long time,” Logan states. “On and off.” His mind drifts back, only for a moment, to the off time: the beautiful, endless afternoons exploring Kendall as though he were a continent to be conquered, the smiles and quiet, breathy laughs. “I don’t know how long it’s been going on this time. We, uh, don’t really get to see each much except for band stuff.”
Jo gives Logan an incredulous look, her mouth hanging open before she gasps, “How did I not notice? How long?”
“Four, maybe five years?” Logan guesses. He knows it started shortly after they first came to L.A., when Kendall first became so distant.
“So, even when we first started dating? Back when...” She stops, some unknown memory clouding her eyes, a realization, then pain. She seems to notice Logan is still next to her and shifts her gaze to him. “I have to go, Logan.”
“What? Where?”
“I just...I have to go. I can’t handle this. It’s too much. It hurts too much. I have to go.” She jumps from her spot against Logan and hurries off, Logan hearing her gather a few things, her purse, a duffle. She bursts back into the hallway from one of the bedrooms.
Logan watches her back as she retreats. Jo gets to the door and he shouts, “Are you coming back?”
He is only answered by the slamming of a door.
Part 7 Part 9
Part: 8/?
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, Kendall/Jo
Details: AU, Slash
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content
Post Word Count: 993
Status: WIP
Summary: From friendship, to love, to something else entirely. When secrets are all they have, what is left when their lives become an open book? "I have no life but this."
Masterlist
Logan isn’t dumb. He never has been.
This isn’t the first time Kendall has starved himself, but this is definitely the farthest it’s ever gone.
They just had a fight, not about the not-eating, but about Kendall’s continued isolation, his slow destruction of self -- it all goes together anyway. Logan supposes he should be glad Kendall is at least drinking; alcohol has calories.
He wonders how Jo puts up with him. Logan wonders how he himself manages to put up with Kendall. They haven’t been anything like real friends in...years.
Not since Kendall told Logan he wasn’t allowed to lovelovelove Kendall in the real kind of way, not anymore. But Logan isn’t a light switch or a stereo; there is no temperature gauge attached to his heart he can adjust at will. No matter how frustrated Logan gets with Kendall, something about him draws Logan in, the song of a siren, a fly to honey.
Kendall has always been the center of attention, an entity with his own force of gravity, and Logan feels helpless to do anything but circle around him, never getting any closer.
Logan knows, surely as Kendall does, he will worry, he will love and support the other man until there is nothing left in the world but the memory of sound with no one around to hear it. There are days he thinks he shouldn’t, wishes he wouldn’t. Today is one of those days.
Now, he’s on the phone with Jo as she knocks on the bathroom door, some worry deep in Logan’s gut telling him Kendall shouldn’t be alone, and his pride too great to be the one to pick him up again.
“He’s not answering,” Jo says, her voice wavering only slightly.
“Maybe you should call his mom?” Logan offers. He rolls down the windows of his car, begs the wind to sweep away this aching sense of foreboding he has been carrying since the age of sixteen. He tries to put as much distance between himself and this situation as possible; he’s certain his heart can’t take anymore.
“God, Logan, he would get so mad at me,” she whispers. “You know he doesn’t want people to worry, but I don’t... I just can’t handle... I don’t know what to do anymore.” She sniffles and a quiet, heartbroken sound slides through the earpiece of the phone. Logan pulls over, closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the steering wheel. The sky is cruelly clear, the clouds feathering and curling against a blue sky that disappears into the ocean. Logan has this unjustified sense of offense that the sun could shine down so warm and so bright when Kendall is thoroughly fading, thinning out like the leaves in a Minnesota Autumn.
“So he might hate you,” Logan says, voice muffled. “But is it more important that he likes you or lives?”
Jo cries, the sound like a the first stirrings of a storm. “Logan, would you please come back? Please?” she begs. Logan easily deciphers what she really means, Let him hate you.
“Sure,” comes the laconic reply. Inside, he thinks, I’ll take the bullet again.
When he gets back to the condo Jo and Kendall share, he enters without knocking. He makes his way to the bathroom he knows Kendall has locked himself in, the tap, tap, tap of his shoes echoing and matching the rhythm in his chest. He finds Jo, sitting in the hallway across from the door, her face a mess of angry blotches and shiny trails of tears. She looks at Logan and begins to sob. Logan slides to the floor next to her, wraps his arm around her small shoulders and pulls her close.
“Why,” deep breath, “can’t I-I,” a sob, “make him better?” Jo throws her hands in the air.
Logan is beginning to believe -- has known actually -- when someone loves Kendall Knight in that all encompassing sort of way they are begging for tragedy. Jo’s heartbreak has been his own for as long as he can remember. He almost feels jealous she can cry over it, seek out comfort. So he takes some comfort in her, shares the burden, albeit quietly.
“It’s not up to you to make him better,” Logan says into Jo’s hair, the smell of sweat and worry and sorrow invading his nostrils.
“He won’t let me tell. He won’t let me tell anybody! How did it get this far so fast?” Her tears are quieting as she speaks, the strength in her words gaining.
“It’s been going on a long time,” Logan states. “On and off.” His mind drifts back, only for a moment, to the off time: the beautiful, endless afternoons exploring Kendall as though he were a continent to be conquered, the smiles and quiet, breathy laughs. “I don’t know how long it’s been going on this time. We, uh, don’t really get to see each much except for band stuff.”
Jo gives Logan an incredulous look, her mouth hanging open before she gasps, “How did I not notice? How long?”
“Four, maybe five years?” Logan guesses. He knows it started shortly after they first came to L.A., when Kendall first became so distant.
“So, even when we first started dating? Back when...” She stops, some unknown memory clouding her eyes, a realization, then pain. She seems to notice Logan is still next to her and shifts her gaze to him. “I have to go, Logan.”
“What? Where?”
“I just...I have to go. I can’t handle this. It’s too much. It hurts too much. I have to go.” She jumps from her spot against Logan and hurries off, Logan hearing her gather a few things, her purse, a duffle. She bursts back into the hallway from one of the bedrooms.
Logan watches her back as she retreats. Jo gets to the door and he shouts, “Are you coming back?”
He is only answered by the slamming of a door.
Part 7 Part 9