Space AU (Part Three) (NSFW)
All Joe does is take another drink of water and he's making absolutely no move to hide that he's watching now. They don't seem to mind much anyway and he stretches his legs out in front of him, the gun still laid across his lap. It'll probably stay there for awhile now, especially if the two of them keep going at it. They don't need to know that he's enjoying watching them like this.
---
"You know, we had the place all to ourselves a few minutes ago," I remind Logan, completely ignoring the other presence in the room. I don't give a fuck. He's not gonna shoot us for this. He wants us in one piece. He might say he doesn't care 'bout the money, but it's a damn lie.
I lean forward and press kisses to Logan's jaw. My hands frame his hips and I'm already practically in his lap. I always was a little slut, right? 's not like I haven't done plenty with someone watching. "I love you too, you know. I'd have gone to the end of the fucking universe to find you. And I really wish this fucking asshole'd quit staring." I let out a hiccup of hysterical laughter, 'cause even with out looking, it's like I can feel eyes on me. On us. I've fucking lost it. Suddenly, it hardly seems to matter that he's got a gun on us too.
---
Logan laughs in return and grins, his eyes still on Neil. "Maybe he's never fucked before," he suggests. "We should show him how to do it right."
Pulling Neil's shirt off in one easy movement, Logan doesn't pay the gunman any mind, too busy exploring Neil's chest with his fingertips and wetting his lips. "Nearly forgot just how hot you are," he teases lightly, as if this were any other day for them and nothing was going wrong. "You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?" he asks Neil, leaning in to press rough and biting kisses to the other boy's neck and shoulder. "Just looking at you makes me hard."
---
Joe can hear them talking now, but he doesn't move or say anything, not yet anyway. He's not sure how far they'll take it in the first place, he's not sure what they think they're doing or what they want him to do about it, if anything. For the moment he's sort of content to watch and he shifts, trying to get more comfortable.
"Done plenty of fucking," he says after a moment, an eyebrow arched, although he doesn't expect them to acknowledge him or even look over.
---
I let out a rough moan, the loudest sound I've made so far. The bites earn an involuntary twitch of my hips, and I'm scrambling already to get closer. Like some sort of wild fucking animal. Not something you see much 'round here, but there's enough stock footage of that kind of shit. In classrooms and museums. Animals in mating season ripping each other to shreds. That's what I feel like right now. All teeth and lips and hands and cock. I don't recognize my voice anymore. It's like I don't remember why we're here or what I'm supposed to be doing.
But this isn't something new. Logan Echolls always had that effect on me, and that used to make me hate the bastard. Now it's got sorta does the opposite.
"You can look all you want. Always could." Behind the grin there's a sadness there. A fear I'm not gonna acknowledge out loud. I can't hide it. Not from him.
The guy's talking now and I wonder if we're supposed to care. Sorry, pal. I'm a little busy right now.
---
"Don't," Logan says quietly, studying Neil's face. "This is a good moment... happy moment, alright? Don't think about that shit, not right now," he practically begs as he unfastens Neil's pants and shoves his hand into them. "I love you, 'm always gonna Love you Neil. Always gonna want you and need you... so just don't think about that shit."
Squeezing the other boy's cock, his own erection is tenting the worn leather on his legs. The pants feel painfully tight all of a sudden, but touching Neil seems more important. More fulfilling than touching himself even.
---
Something feels sort of wrong about getting off on his two fucking captors tell each other they they're in love and all that sort of bullshit that Joe doesn't believe anymore. Not for a long damn time, anyway. Still, they're touching each other and for about as long as he hasn't believed in the bullshit stories of love, he hasn't been much for intimacy like that. There's fucking, yeah, he's done a lot of that, but nothing like this. Not for years.
---
How he can think this is a fucking happy moment, I don't think I'll ever know. I wonder if maybe that bastard really did suck his fucking brains out through his cock, and now all that's left is this... But this? It ain't so bad. It's him, unmistakably, even if I do think he's gone a little nuts. But I can't not think about it. I know we're being watched, and I know who's doing the watching, and it's enough to make me feel a little sick. Not 'cause I haven't been watched before, but this with him was never something I really wanted anyone to see but us. I like keeping things different with him, 'cause it makes all that other shit from so long ago easier to forget.
Still, his hand's on my dick, and I'm not dead yet. Another groan and my hips rock forward, hands fumbling at the fastening on his pants. "Just fuck me. I need to feel you."
---
And god, Logan wants to do just that, but the more the stranger watches them, the more Logan's brain wakes up, and he gives Neil a look as he pulls his hand away. "You gotta wait for it," he says, pushing the other boy away gently and giving him his best 'trust me' look.
"It's better if you wait," he insists, turning away and slowly crawling across the floor and over to their captor. "How about you, man?" he asks, running his hands up the man's thighs. "How long's it been since someone gave you something good? Neil likes to watch, you know. How do you feel about him watching me suck your cock?"
And it's a crazy plan, really crazy, and he's not even sure Neil will know how to play along. But they're running out of options, and Logan's willing to try just about anything.
---
"You offering to distract me?" Joe asks, an eyebrow arching as he looks down at the younger man. Logan, he has to remind himself that his name is Logan, not that he really gives a fuck in the end, but it makes easier to tell them apart when they've got names. "Pretend you're gonna suck me off and then take my gun? Shoot me in the head?" He might be turned on, but he's not fucking stupid, no matter what they both seem to think.
---
"Why the fuck would we do that? We don't got the key code. We shoot you, we rot in this fucking place," I point out, leathers riding low around my hips as I crawl forward on hands and knees, "You were watching, weren't you? Which one of us were you watching? Or was it both?" I can play up the whole wide-eyed innocent look, and usually it hooks 'em, no problem. But this guy's no idiot, and this helpless little boy routine'll only get us so far. 'Cause it's Logan he's gotta let near him if this is gonna work. It might've taken a moment, but without exchanging a single word, I know exactly what Logan was planning, and I know that this guy's already got him all figured out.
I grin just so, showing a flash of teeth and a peek of tongue, limbs moving lazily, and my eyes at half mast. It's all pure sex, and there's no telling anymore what's fake and what's not with me. I was always too good at this game.
---
It takes every bit of strength Logan has left in him not to let himself get stupidly jealous over the way Neil's behaving, but he's smart enough to know it's an act and that it's his line now. He has to seal the deal.
"Besides," Logan says softly, resting his cheek against the man's knee. "I'm no killer. I'm a lot of things, but not that. This could be the last night me and Neil get to spend together... I want it to be good, really fucking good," he purrs, trailing his fingers up the inside of the gunman's thigh as he speaks. "You're a good looking guy. An asshole and a scumbag, sure, ... but a good looking one. I wouldn't mind a taste of that. I always had a thing for bad guys... tough guys. It's fucking hot," he growled, inching closer an dragging his tongue over one of the man's leather clad thighs with a moan.
"Come on, I'll keep my hands behind my back the whole time, cross my heart."
---
There's no point in denying that he's turned on because it's pretty fucking obvious at this point, it has to be obvious from the way he's shifting, but there's also still a gun in his lap and Logan's practically got his face nuzzled up against it. "If you want it to be so fucking good and you want it with him, then why the fuck don't you offer to suck him off?" he asks, although it's not a question he really expect an answer to. Lifting the gun, he lies it along his thigh, resting it against the ground, his hand still on it.
He might be horny, but he's still not stupid.
---
"'Cause we've done that hundreds of times. Where's the fun in that?" I ask, like I've never been more serious in my life. Well, as serious as you can be with a smirk like this on my face and my hand slipping down into the front of my open pants. I'm not as hard as I was, but he don't need to know that. It's hard to be turned on when you're thinking 'bout how your gonna get outta something without getting shot. And honestly, watching Logan go down on this asshole really isn't my idea of fun. Not with that fucking gun pointed at me.
"You're the one with the gun here, man. So, what is it you want?"
---
"You should shut up or you're gonna keep getting the gun pointed at you," Joe threatens, although he makes no move to lift the gun. What he wants is to get his money and go home and get his next job, he wants to ignore the rest of the fucking world for the rest of his fucking life and just deal with the job. The work. This shit is stupid, there's no point in it, but he can't deny that he wants something. He wants to close his eyes and maybe pretend it's someone else, someone with blond spiked hair and a skinny chest, someone who's dead. Someone who's been dead a long damn time.
Instead of saying anything, he just relaxes a little under the touch, his legs falling open a bit.
---
Logan lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and gives Neil a quick look as he starts to unfasten the man's pants. He doesn't really want to do it, but it's not like you can fake a blowjob, and he tries to think of something else as he frees the older man's erection and strokes it once.
He really hopes this plan works.
He doesn't waste any time licking a stripe up the stranger's cock, taking the tip between his lips and sucking playfully, drawing it out as long as he can. The slower the better right? He even fakes a moan as he let's the pink organ slip from his lips. True to his word, he clasps his hands behind his back neatly and pretends to struggle to get the other man's erection back between his lips, letting the man's hot slick cock brush over his cheeks and lips before coming to rest on his tongue between his lips as he starts to suck in earnest.
---
I don't think I like this plan.
I knew from the beginning it'd have to go this far to work, but that don't mean I actually wanna see something like this. It's surprising how hard it is to pretend like I'm enjoying this, tongue swiping out to wet my lips and my hand stroking slow behind the leather of my pants. Kneeling behind Logan, I rest a hand on the small of his back, focusing on the curve of his spine at first but then I realize I'm gonna have to watch for this to look real.
He really does look fucking incredible like this. I've always thought so, and I do a pretty good job of squashing down all that jealousy and possessiveness. Through all of this, my attention is on that gun, waiting for his grip to loosen.
---
Joe's head thumps back against the wall and even if he wants to close his eyes and pretend it's someone else, he doesn't. His eyes stay open, staring just over the top of Neil's head, looking at the wall on the other side of the room, his fingers still on the gun. There's no way in hell he's letting that gun go, no way he's letting them use this. It's happened before, he's almost lost people over shit like this.
Grinding his teeth together, his jaw tightens and his hips thrust up slightly before he levels his gaze on Neil. Just so he knows, just so he fucking knows. The words don't need to be said, but they're there in his gaze. Your boyfriend is sucking my dick and I still have the gun. Just so the bastard knows.
---
Logan's been pulling out every trick he knows, everything he ever learned from Neil over the years. The next thing he's a little less sure about though and he's nervous and hopeful all at once as he drags his teeth up the man's cock, just hard enough for him to feel it. He hums and groans around the guy's length, and then does it again, putting on a real show as he pretends to be so into it that he's practically humping the guy's leg.
---
I stare right back at the other man, chin tilted up defiantly. Jaw clinched. Scowling. So much for pretending to enjoy it. Hell, Logan's playing the part well enough for both of us. All the squirming and moaning might be a little much, and I hold back the urge to smack him upside the head for coming up with this fucking plan in the first place. But that's when the guy actually looks like he might be getting into it enough that the plan might not be utter shit after all. I wait, watching the guy's face carefully, judging his breathing and the lines of his body. Finally, those knowing eyes of his flutter shut and I take a chance, moving quick as I can and making a grab for the gun. Pray for the best. Plan for the worst, right?
---
"Fuck," Joe curses and his eyes fly around, feeling that bastard make a move for the gun more than anything. His hand reaches out, grabbing hold of it before Neil can, his fingers tight around the handle and before he can even think about what he's going to do, his hand lifts the gun, then barrel slamming across Neil's face. Probably not hard enough to break anything, but only because he's distracted. At the same time he tries to push the other one off him, because the last thing he needs is to lose his dick down some asshole's throat.
---
The guy doesn't have to push, the moment Logan knows what's going on, he's pulled away and his focus is on Neil, reaching out to make sure the other boy's okay. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Logan snaps at the guy. "He's half your fucking size and you're hitting him with a fucking gun?"
His breath ragged and plan ruined, he gives Neil an apologetic look. "Shit... You okay? You need something from the med kit? I dunno... I dunno what's left but I can find you something."
---
It's not like I'm expecting it to work, but the crack of metal against my cheekbone is sorta a shock. I cry out sharply, falling back and landing hard on one elbow. Logan's yelling, like I didn't just try and steal the fucker's gun, and I feel a spark of anger at what he's saying. Like I'm made out of fucking glass.
"'m fine. Just leave it," I insist, batting Logan's hands away and scrambling back against the far wall. I glare angrily at the man with the gun, my eyes purposefully turned away from Logan's face. I cradle my cheekbone in one palm. My cheek split at the force of the blow against my teeth. I lean over to spit blood onto the floor. "Guess you might as well finish him off now." I feel sick and it's got nothing to do with the pain.
All that for fucking nothing.
---
Joe's already using his free hand to do up his pants, there's nothing to finish off, that shit is enough to more or less get rid of any erection he had. The gun is in his other hand again, pointed at the two of them and it's wavering this time, but only slightly. He's all to aware of how close that came, of how fucking close he came to getting himself fucked and not in the fun way.
"Fuck you both," he says, although there isn't much venom there, just a resigned sort of annoyance. It's his own fucking fault in the end and he knows it. He got sloppy. Sloppy is what gets people killed and he knows this, he's fucking lived it.
---
When Neil won’t look at him… well that’s when Logan snaps, getting to his feet and looking down at the man in the chair. “No. Fuck you. Fuck you for doing this. Is it worth it, what he’s paying you, is it worth taking two innocent people to their deaths? How much does that cost, huh? How much does someone have to pay you to make you stop giving a shit about life? We’re not bad people. We aren’t crooks. Not the dangerous kind anyhow. Maybe we dabble in cigarettes and bullshit like that… but we aren’t bad people. And you’re gonna take us to our deaths? Come on man, tell me what that’s worth. Tell me just how much it costs to be a cold hearted bastard like you.”
He takes a shuddering breath realizing just how close he is to falling apart, and looks away for a moment as he tries to calm down. "They're gonna take him away from me, and he's all I have. Do you know what that feels like? I live for him. The only reason I'm standing here, is 'cuz I knew I had to live for him. And what? You're gonna take him away in a heartbeat just so you can buy a new gun or a new home... a new fucking pair of boots. Well fuck you. Maybe I won't be the one who pulls the trigger when that gun's pointed at your head, but I really hope someone else does."
---
"Logan, stop it," I say, voice rough and quiet. Tight with pain and about a million other things. My knees are folded up to my chest, arm wrapped around them tight. The hand that pulls away from my cheek comes back bloody. My eyes and throat burn. Everything hurts. I'm just... tired.
"Don't try to appeal to his sense of fucking humanity. He doesn't have one. Just come sit by me. Please, okay?"
---
"Fuck you both," Joe says again, the gun resting against his thigh, but he looks away from them, probably the first time his gaze has wavered since he grabbed them from the bar earlier in the night. Logan has no way of knowing that he's hit a sore spot, a place where Joe is still weak even after all these years. He's found that scab that's never quite healed over and he's picked at the edge, leaving it open and fresh and bleeding just a bit.
But he doesn't know. He doesn't know that he's hit that and Joe doesn't have to let him know. They don't need to know anything about him, about Billy, they don't need to know any of his story and he doesn't need to know theirs. That's what makes it easier, that's what makes this job what it is, it's not knowing.
---
Logan moves to sit beside Neil, and finally shuts up, done talking, done bitching for the moment. It's all hopeless anyway, they're fucked.
No, they aren't fucked, they're dead. Two dead boys who never even made it to twenty.
---
I reach for Logan's hand wordlessly, my unbruised cheek tipping over to rest against his shoulder. I watch the man with the gun for a moment longer and then let my eyes falls shut. Wetness leaks outta the corner, one fucking tear sliding across my temple and down the bare skin of his shoulder. That fucker won't see it, but Logan'll know and for some reason it makes me feel ashamed. I was supposed to look after him for once. I was supposed to get him home.
Yeah, now look at us.
---
Joe just watches them, because there's nothing else he can do at this point. His pants are done up again, the gun is against his thigh, but it's not pointed at them anymore. It's pointed at the wall and he looks like he's all there, but he's not, he's distracted. This would be the best time for them to try to grab the gun or overpower him, but he doesn't think it shows and he just watches them, watches their faces, tries not to be reminded of anything.
---
Logan feels the tear hit his shoulder and he tries to ignore the sharp stab of pain it triggers in his chest as he wraps an arm around the other boy and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Hey... Don't cry, alright? I'll take care of you, I always do when I can, right? We'll be okay. We'll be okay, and we'll make it home eventually, Neil," he lies softly. "Wouldn't let anyone hurt you, not again. I swear."
Swallowing hard, Logan closes his eyes, holding Neil a little tighter. "Just try and get some rest of something. You need your strength. We'll both need to be alert tomorrow once he ditches us with them."
---
"Shut up, Logan. Just shut the fuck up." My voice cracks, and I struggle weakly in his arms, 'cause I don't want to hear that shit now. He should fucking know that. I don't want him taking care of me. Not now. Not after everything that's happened. But it's short lived, and I eventually go limp against him. One broken sigh. A nod. I glance at the guy with the gun one last time and then away for good.
Reaching over, I find my med-kit in the pocket of my coat and fish out the dose of pain killers. One dose, split between the two of us. We'll be a little groggy, but only for a few hours. I'm tired of fighting tonight anyway. All that stuff 'bout sharing needles doesn't mean shit after all we've shared. We've shared fucking everything, right?
I toss the empty vial away carelessly and curl up against his side, hoping for a little sleep before all hell breaks loose again.
---
Joe watches until they both fall asleep or pass out from the painkillers or whatever the fuck it was that Neil gave the two of them and then he watches more. There's no way he'll sleep. Not because of the job, but because of the things Logan had said, because of the way they'd hit him, the way he doesn't want to admit. He just watches them.
---
Logan's up before Neil, it's not all that unusual but today it's because of pain and not the fact that he's had enough sleep. His ankle is throbbing from being tucked beneath him while he slept, and he hisses in pain and rolls up his pant leg to get a better look.
It's red and swollen, and Logan's not sure he'll be able to walk on it without being in agony each step. If he can walk at all, that is. "You carrying anything?" he asks the bounty hunter. "I'll pay you for drugs. Anything, I don't give a shit what as long as it stops the pain. You have to have something on you, in case a stray bullet catches you or... whatever. Either that or you gotta wrap this for me at least. I won't be walking anywhere with my ankle like this. Unless you plan on carrying me, you need to help me."
---
Getting up, Joe doesn't say anything, he just downs the rest of his water and then reaches into the small bag he's got on his side before he gets up and crosses the room. "Your boyfriend better not try anything," he warns, although Neil looks like he's still sleeping, then puts the gun down on the floor when he crouches in front of Logan. His boot rests heavily over it, just in case.
"Lemme see," he orders. He has something to wrap it, something for the pain, but he wants to make sure that he's not just fucking with him, trying to get some drugs out of him when he doesn't need them.
---
First I hear voices. Then there's pain. A hell of a lot of pain. My face has swelled so fucking bad my left eye won't open all the way. My other cheek tingles from being pressed against the floor in my sleep. I groan, then my eyes snap out and I shoot upright.
"Wha-?" I cough, blinking the haze away 'til my eyes finally focus on that guy hovering over Logan. "What the fuck are you doing?"
---
"He's wrapping my ankle. Least I thought he was," Logan says, watching the man closely, not sure he wanted him touching him. He showed his ankle anyway though, the skin red and the ankle swollen.
"If you give the stuff to Neil, he can do it. I don't think I want you touching me," he admits, looking just past the man instead of at him.
---
"If I'm not checking it myself, I'm not giving you any painkillers," he replies simply, tossing the bandages to the other boy and then lifting his gun before crossing the room back to where he was sitting earlier. Sinking down against the wall, he tips his head back against it again, resting there, his eyes still open. There's nothing else to say now. Neil will wrap his ankle and then they'll get going and by noon Joe won't have to worry about them anymore.
---
Grabbing the bag of food we discarded last night, I push it over toward Logan, sitting down cross-legged near his ankle and carefully lifting it into my lap. I unlace his boots and hold onto his calf as I slide the shoe off as carefully as I can. It hits the floor with a dull thump and I get to work on wrapping his ankle, trying to figure out how to get those meds off the guy without either one of us getting pistol whipped again.
"You're watching every fucking thing I'm doing, man, how's it gonna hurt you to give him the meds? You really wanna hear him bitch 'til you dump us off? You wanna have to carry him? It won't be me. His ass is too heavy for me to drag all over this fucking rock."
---
"I don't bitch," Logan mutters, hissing again in pain and pulling his foot away childishly for a moment before letting Neil take it again. "Fuck him, I don't need his fucking drugs. How's your face feel?" he asks, noticing that one of Neil's eyes was even more squinty than usual. "Lazuli won't like that. He likes his things clean and undamaged. You'll lose money for that... if he pays you at all," he snorts, remembering something.
"He bought this... TV thing once. It was nearly the size of my hand, it had this tiny scratch on it that I couldn't even find... and he shot the guy selling it to him. Said he had no respect for other people's things. That's probably the only bright spot in this whole situation," he tells the bounty hunter. "He's gonna kill us eventually, but at least we'll get to watch him shoot you first."
He gives a nasty smirk at that and tilts his head back as he watches the other man. "So what's your name, dead man? If we're walking with you to the gallows, we should all be better acquainted."
---
The night before, Joe had almost worried that they'd pegged him with their bullshit, that Logan had figured him out with his little speech about living for a person, but apparently he was wrong. If he'd been right, he figures Logan would've tried that again instead of this crap he's trying now. This 'I think I'm smarter' than you crap. He might not get paid the full amount, but he's done work for the blue-skinned fucker before, he's not likely to get shot over a fucked up ankle and a scratch on the cheek. Nothing is broken, Joe's in the clear, he knows this.
"Joe," he replies after a moment, looking faintly amused, although he says nothing about it. "But if you want, you can just keep calling me dead man. If it makes you feel better about what's gonna happen, you can call me whatever the fuck you want."
---
"I fucking swear, Logan, you don't shut the fuck up, I'll make you. If he don't get to you first." My voice is low, and I might be wrapping his leg a little too tight, but he's lucky I don't reach over and smack him in the fucking head. "We're not his fucking things. We're not anyone's fucking things, and we're gonna be just as dead as this motherfucker, so just shut up."
My hands are shaking. I feel sicker than I did before. I'm scared. But not for me. For Logan. Doesn't he fucking get that? What he did last night, I should've stopped it. After what's been going on with him these last 45 days, I should've fucking stopped it. I should've done a lot of things, but now all I can do is fucking sit here, wrapping his goddamn ankle, and he's taunting this motherfucker like the fucking idiot he obviously is.
---
"No," Logan snaps. "No I won't shut up. 'Cause you're right, we're dead. We're dead. And if that asshole makes it out alive today, I want him to remember us. When they find our bodies and plaster our faces on the news, I want him to know he did it. I want him to remember we were fucking people, not a job. 'Cause I have spent the last month doing what I was told, being fucked and hurt and... and made to feel like I was nothing. Like I was a fucking pet, Neil. So I won't shut up. I'm sick of shutting up. You're right, we aren't things... but as soon as he hands us over, we will be. And I... All I can think about is him touching you. That blue bastard is going to touch you, and..."
And that's when Logan finally breaks, tears welling up behind his eyes as he tries to take a deep breath.
It's too late though, and they are spilling down his cheeks before he can stop them.
---
It's easier not to care when they're loners, there's no one for them to talk to, no one for them to relate to, and it's a hell of a lot easier when they don't pull shit like this. As hard as he tries not to think about it, Logan starts to cry and Joe hears things he's not supposed to hear, things he's been blocking out for such a long time. He hears Billy and while it's not crying, it's close enough, it's begging. Begging for his life, for Joe's life and then it's gone because Billy got shot in the head. Joe got to keep his life and Billy got shot in the head and he knows that Lazuli is more interested in Logan. Knows he's probably going to keep Neil around for a couple weeks and then get rid of him and it reminds him of the shit that's happened in his own life and he hates it. He hates them.
"Get up," he instructs, going to the door and punching in the code. They were sneaky enough to get out, they were sneaky enough to blow town, it's easy. Joe knows how to lie. And yeah, maybe his ass will be over the fire next, but it's not like it's the first time he's fucked someone over. Sure as hell won't be the last.
---
I finish wrapping up his ankle during that tirade, hands smoothing carefully over the bandage. My face twists up in pain but the tears are all dried up. Maybe I don't let them come.
I figured we'd have a little while longer, so I feel a lurch of dread in my gut when the guy -Joe- gets up to open the door. I get to my feet. I put on my shirt and slide on my coat. His shirts still a little damp but it'll have to do. I gather up what little we have then turn to look at the man standing at the door. We can't make a run for it, not with Logan banged up like this. As it is, I lean down to help him to his feet, knowing he'll probably complain that he doesn't need any fucking help, but mostly I just want to touch him anyway. I brush my hands over his cheeks, spreading tears with my fingertips. I start planning how I might be able to talk them into taking me instead of Logan. I wonder if there's enough in the med-kit for both of us to OD 'fore Lazuli and his boys get to us.
I wonder a whole lot of things.
---
Logan let's Neil help him up without complaint, too focused on the other boy's face and the fact that it's time to go. It's all over. There's no such thing as bargaining with Lazuli, which makes Joe their last hope, and Logan swallows his pride one last time as he tries to save the other boy.
"Let him leave, Joe. Lazuli only needs me... he'll deal with just getting me. Please, okay? I'll give you anything you want, just... just let him go. We have money we can give you, or... I don't know. Fuck. Anything, alright? Name it... and I'll find a way to give it to you. You wanna take me, well that's fine. But not him, please, Joe, not him," he begs softly, keeping his eyes on Neil the whole time, his fingertips brushing over the other boy's unbruised cheek.
---
"You know, we had the place all to ourselves a few minutes ago," I remind Logan, completely ignoring the other presence in the room. I don't give a fuck. He's not gonna shoot us for this. He wants us in one piece. He might say he doesn't care 'bout the money, but it's a damn lie.
I lean forward and press kisses to Logan's jaw. My hands frame his hips and I'm already practically in his lap. I always was a little slut, right? 's not like I haven't done plenty with someone watching. "I love you too, you know. I'd have gone to the end of the fucking universe to find you. And I really wish this fucking asshole'd quit staring." I let out a hiccup of hysterical laughter, 'cause even with out looking, it's like I can feel eyes on me. On us. I've fucking lost it. Suddenly, it hardly seems to matter that he's got a gun on us too.
---
Logan laughs in return and grins, his eyes still on Neil. "Maybe he's never fucked before," he suggests. "We should show him how to do it right."
Pulling Neil's shirt off in one easy movement, Logan doesn't pay the gunman any mind, too busy exploring Neil's chest with his fingertips and wetting his lips. "Nearly forgot just how hot you are," he teases lightly, as if this were any other day for them and nothing was going wrong. "You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?" he asks Neil, leaning in to press rough and biting kisses to the other boy's neck and shoulder. "Just looking at you makes me hard."
---
Joe can hear them talking now, but he doesn't move or say anything, not yet anyway. He's not sure how far they'll take it in the first place, he's not sure what they think they're doing or what they want him to do about it, if anything. For the moment he's sort of content to watch and he shifts, trying to get more comfortable.
"Done plenty of fucking," he says after a moment, an eyebrow arched, although he doesn't expect them to acknowledge him or even look over.
---
I let out a rough moan, the loudest sound I've made so far. The bites earn an involuntary twitch of my hips, and I'm scrambling already to get closer. Like some sort of wild fucking animal. Not something you see much 'round here, but there's enough stock footage of that kind of shit. In classrooms and museums. Animals in mating season ripping each other to shreds. That's what I feel like right now. All teeth and lips and hands and cock. I don't recognize my voice anymore. It's like I don't remember why we're here or what I'm supposed to be doing.
But this isn't something new. Logan Echolls always had that effect on me, and that used to make me hate the bastard. Now it's got sorta does the opposite.
"You can look all you want. Always could." Behind the grin there's a sadness there. A fear I'm not gonna acknowledge out loud. I can't hide it. Not from him.
The guy's talking now and I wonder if we're supposed to care. Sorry, pal. I'm a little busy right now.
---
"Don't," Logan says quietly, studying Neil's face. "This is a good moment... happy moment, alright? Don't think about that shit, not right now," he practically begs as he unfastens Neil's pants and shoves his hand into them. "I love you, 'm always gonna Love you Neil. Always gonna want you and need you... so just don't think about that shit."
Squeezing the other boy's cock, his own erection is tenting the worn leather on his legs. The pants feel painfully tight all of a sudden, but touching Neil seems more important. More fulfilling than touching himself even.
---
Something feels sort of wrong about getting off on his two fucking captors tell each other they they're in love and all that sort of bullshit that Joe doesn't believe anymore. Not for a long damn time, anyway. Still, they're touching each other and for about as long as he hasn't believed in the bullshit stories of love, he hasn't been much for intimacy like that. There's fucking, yeah, he's done a lot of that, but nothing like this. Not for years.
---
How he can think this is a fucking happy moment, I don't think I'll ever know. I wonder if maybe that bastard really did suck his fucking brains out through his cock, and now all that's left is this... But this? It ain't so bad. It's him, unmistakably, even if I do think he's gone a little nuts. But I can't not think about it. I know we're being watched, and I know who's doing the watching, and it's enough to make me feel a little sick. Not 'cause I haven't been watched before, but this with him was never something I really wanted anyone to see but us. I like keeping things different with him, 'cause it makes all that other shit from so long ago easier to forget.
Still, his hand's on my dick, and I'm not dead yet. Another groan and my hips rock forward, hands fumbling at the fastening on his pants. "Just fuck me. I need to feel you."
---
And god, Logan wants to do just that, but the more the stranger watches them, the more Logan's brain wakes up, and he gives Neil a look as he pulls his hand away. "You gotta wait for it," he says, pushing the other boy away gently and giving him his best 'trust me' look.
"It's better if you wait," he insists, turning away and slowly crawling across the floor and over to their captor. "How about you, man?" he asks, running his hands up the man's thighs. "How long's it been since someone gave you something good? Neil likes to watch, you know. How do you feel about him watching me suck your cock?"
And it's a crazy plan, really crazy, and he's not even sure Neil will know how to play along. But they're running out of options, and Logan's willing to try just about anything.
---
"You offering to distract me?" Joe asks, an eyebrow arching as he looks down at the younger man. Logan, he has to remind himself that his name is Logan, not that he really gives a fuck in the end, but it makes easier to tell them apart when they've got names. "Pretend you're gonna suck me off and then take my gun? Shoot me in the head?" He might be turned on, but he's not fucking stupid, no matter what they both seem to think.
---
"Why the fuck would we do that? We don't got the key code. We shoot you, we rot in this fucking place," I point out, leathers riding low around my hips as I crawl forward on hands and knees, "You were watching, weren't you? Which one of us were you watching? Or was it both?" I can play up the whole wide-eyed innocent look, and usually it hooks 'em, no problem. But this guy's no idiot, and this helpless little boy routine'll only get us so far. 'Cause it's Logan he's gotta let near him if this is gonna work. It might've taken a moment, but without exchanging a single word, I know exactly what Logan was planning, and I know that this guy's already got him all figured out.
I grin just so, showing a flash of teeth and a peek of tongue, limbs moving lazily, and my eyes at half mast. It's all pure sex, and there's no telling anymore what's fake and what's not with me. I was always too good at this game.
---
It takes every bit of strength Logan has left in him not to let himself get stupidly jealous over the way Neil's behaving, but he's smart enough to know it's an act and that it's his line now. He has to seal the deal.
"Besides," Logan says softly, resting his cheek against the man's knee. "I'm no killer. I'm a lot of things, but not that. This could be the last night me and Neil get to spend together... I want it to be good, really fucking good," he purrs, trailing his fingers up the inside of the gunman's thigh as he speaks. "You're a good looking guy. An asshole and a scumbag, sure, ... but a good looking one. I wouldn't mind a taste of that. I always had a thing for bad guys... tough guys. It's fucking hot," he growled, inching closer an dragging his tongue over one of the man's leather clad thighs with a moan.
"Come on, I'll keep my hands behind my back the whole time, cross my heart."
---
There's no point in denying that he's turned on because it's pretty fucking obvious at this point, it has to be obvious from the way he's shifting, but there's also still a gun in his lap and Logan's practically got his face nuzzled up against it. "If you want it to be so fucking good and you want it with him, then why the fuck don't you offer to suck him off?" he asks, although it's not a question he really expect an answer to. Lifting the gun, he lies it along his thigh, resting it against the ground, his hand still on it.
He might be horny, but he's still not stupid.
---
"'Cause we've done that hundreds of times. Where's the fun in that?" I ask, like I've never been more serious in my life. Well, as serious as you can be with a smirk like this on my face and my hand slipping down into the front of my open pants. I'm not as hard as I was, but he don't need to know that. It's hard to be turned on when you're thinking 'bout how your gonna get outta something without getting shot. And honestly, watching Logan go down on this asshole really isn't my idea of fun. Not with that fucking gun pointed at me.
"You're the one with the gun here, man. So, what is it you want?"
---
"You should shut up or you're gonna keep getting the gun pointed at you," Joe threatens, although he makes no move to lift the gun. What he wants is to get his money and go home and get his next job, he wants to ignore the rest of the fucking world for the rest of his fucking life and just deal with the job. The work. This shit is stupid, there's no point in it, but he can't deny that he wants something. He wants to close his eyes and maybe pretend it's someone else, someone with blond spiked hair and a skinny chest, someone who's dead. Someone who's been dead a long damn time.
Instead of saying anything, he just relaxes a little under the touch, his legs falling open a bit.
---
Logan lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and gives Neil a quick look as he starts to unfasten the man's pants. He doesn't really want to do it, but it's not like you can fake a blowjob, and he tries to think of something else as he frees the older man's erection and strokes it once.
He really hopes this plan works.
He doesn't waste any time licking a stripe up the stranger's cock, taking the tip between his lips and sucking playfully, drawing it out as long as he can. The slower the better right? He even fakes a moan as he let's the pink organ slip from his lips. True to his word, he clasps his hands behind his back neatly and pretends to struggle to get the other man's erection back between his lips, letting the man's hot slick cock brush over his cheeks and lips before coming to rest on his tongue between his lips as he starts to suck in earnest.
---
I don't think I like this plan.
I knew from the beginning it'd have to go this far to work, but that don't mean I actually wanna see something like this. It's surprising how hard it is to pretend like I'm enjoying this, tongue swiping out to wet my lips and my hand stroking slow behind the leather of my pants. Kneeling behind Logan, I rest a hand on the small of his back, focusing on the curve of his spine at first but then I realize I'm gonna have to watch for this to look real.
He really does look fucking incredible like this. I've always thought so, and I do a pretty good job of squashing down all that jealousy and possessiveness. Through all of this, my attention is on that gun, waiting for his grip to loosen.
---
Joe's head thumps back against the wall and even if he wants to close his eyes and pretend it's someone else, he doesn't. His eyes stay open, staring just over the top of Neil's head, looking at the wall on the other side of the room, his fingers still on the gun. There's no way in hell he's letting that gun go, no way he's letting them use this. It's happened before, he's almost lost people over shit like this.
Grinding his teeth together, his jaw tightens and his hips thrust up slightly before he levels his gaze on Neil. Just so he knows, just so he fucking knows. The words don't need to be said, but they're there in his gaze. Your boyfriend is sucking my dick and I still have the gun. Just so the bastard knows.
---
Logan's been pulling out every trick he knows, everything he ever learned from Neil over the years. The next thing he's a little less sure about though and he's nervous and hopeful all at once as he drags his teeth up the man's cock, just hard enough for him to feel it. He hums and groans around the guy's length, and then does it again, putting on a real show as he pretends to be so into it that he's practically humping the guy's leg.
---
I stare right back at the other man, chin tilted up defiantly. Jaw clinched. Scowling. So much for pretending to enjoy it. Hell, Logan's playing the part well enough for both of us. All the squirming and moaning might be a little much, and I hold back the urge to smack him upside the head for coming up with this fucking plan in the first place. But that's when the guy actually looks like he might be getting into it enough that the plan might not be utter shit after all. I wait, watching the guy's face carefully, judging his breathing and the lines of his body. Finally, those knowing eyes of his flutter shut and I take a chance, moving quick as I can and making a grab for the gun. Pray for the best. Plan for the worst, right?
---
"Fuck," Joe curses and his eyes fly around, feeling that bastard make a move for the gun more than anything. His hand reaches out, grabbing hold of it before Neil can, his fingers tight around the handle and before he can even think about what he's going to do, his hand lifts the gun, then barrel slamming across Neil's face. Probably not hard enough to break anything, but only because he's distracted. At the same time he tries to push the other one off him, because the last thing he needs is to lose his dick down some asshole's throat.
---
The guy doesn't have to push, the moment Logan knows what's going on, he's pulled away and his focus is on Neil, reaching out to make sure the other boy's okay. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Logan snaps at the guy. "He's half your fucking size and you're hitting him with a fucking gun?"
His breath ragged and plan ruined, he gives Neil an apologetic look. "Shit... You okay? You need something from the med kit? I dunno... I dunno what's left but I can find you something."
---
It's not like I'm expecting it to work, but the crack of metal against my cheekbone is sorta a shock. I cry out sharply, falling back and landing hard on one elbow. Logan's yelling, like I didn't just try and steal the fucker's gun, and I feel a spark of anger at what he's saying. Like I'm made out of fucking glass.
"'m fine. Just leave it," I insist, batting Logan's hands away and scrambling back against the far wall. I glare angrily at the man with the gun, my eyes purposefully turned away from Logan's face. I cradle my cheekbone in one palm. My cheek split at the force of the blow against my teeth. I lean over to spit blood onto the floor. "Guess you might as well finish him off now." I feel sick and it's got nothing to do with the pain.
All that for fucking nothing.
---
Joe's already using his free hand to do up his pants, there's nothing to finish off, that shit is enough to more or less get rid of any erection he had. The gun is in his other hand again, pointed at the two of them and it's wavering this time, but only slightly. He's all to aware of how close that came, of how fucking close he came to getting himself fucked and not in the fun way.
"Fuck you both," he says, although there isn't much venom there, just a resigned sort of annoyance. It's his own fucking fault in the end and he knows it. He got sloppy. Sloppy is what gets people killed and he knows this, he's fucking lived it.
---
When Neil won’t look at him… well that’s when Logan snaps, getting to his feet and looking down at the man in the chair. “No. Fuck you. Fuck you for doing this. Is it worth it, what he’s paying you, is it worth taking two innocent people to their deaths? How much does that cost, huh? How much does someone have to pay you to make you stop giving a shit about life? We’re not bad people. We aren’t crooks. Not the dangerous kind anyhow. Maybe we dabble in cigarettes and bullshit like that… but we aren’t bad people. And you’re gonna take us to our deaths? Come on man, tell me what that’s worth. Tell me just how much it costs to be a cold hearted bastard like you.”
He takes a shuddering breath realizing just how close he is to falling apart, and looks away for a moment as he tries to calm down. "They're gonna take him away from me, and he's all I have. Do you know what that feels like? I live for him. The only reason I'm standing here, is 'cuz I knew I had to live for him. And what? You're gonna take him away in a heartbeat just so you can buy a new gun or a new home... a new fucking pair of boots. Well fuck you. Maybe I won't be the one who pulls the trigger when that gun's pointed at your head, but I really hope someone else does."
---
"Logan, stop it," I say, voice rough and quiet. Tight with pain and about a million other things. My knees are folded up to my chest, arm wrapped around them tight. The hand that pulls away from my cheek comes back bloody. My eyes and throat burn. Everything hurts. I'm just... tired.
"Don't try to appeal to his sense of fucking humanity. He doesn't have one. Just come sit by me. Please, okay?"
---
"Fuck you both," Joe says again, the gun resting against his thigh, but he looks away from them, probably the first time his gaze has wavered since he grabbed them from the bar earlier in the night. Logan has no way of knowing that he's hit a sore spot, a place where Joe is still weak even after all these years. He's found that scab that's never quite healed over and he's picked at the edge, leaving it open and fresh and bleeding just a bit.
But he doesn't know. He doesn't know that he's hit that and Joe doesn't have to let him know. They don't need to know anything about him, about Billy, they don't need to know any of his story and he doesn't need to know theirs. That's what makes it easier, that's what makes this job what it is, it's not knowing.
---
Logan moves to sit beside Neil, and finally shuts up, done talking, done bitching for the moment. It's all hopeless anyway, they're fucked.
No, they aren't fucked, they're dead. Two dead boys who never even made it to twenty.
---
I reach for Logan's hand wordlessly, my unbruised cheek tipping over to rest against his shoulder. I watch the man with the gun for a moment longer and then let my eyes falls shut. Wetness leaks outta the corner, one fucking tear sliding across my temple and down the bare skin of his shoulder. That fucker won't see it, but Logan'll know and for some reason it makes me feel ashamed. I was supposed to look after him for once. I was supposed to get him home.
Yeah, now look at us.
---
Joe just watches them, because there's nothing else he can do at this point. His pants are done up again, the gun is against his thigh, but it's not pointed at them anymore. It's pointed at the wall and he looks like he's all there, but he's not, he's distracted. This would be the best time for them to try to grab the gun or overpower him, but he doesn't think it shows and he just watches them, watches their faces, tries not to be reminded of anything.
---
Logan feels the tear hit his shoulder and he tries to ignore the sharp stab of pain it triggers in his chest as he wraps an arm around the other boy and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Hey... Don't cry, alright? I'll take care of you, I always do when I can, right? We'll be okay. We'll be okay, and we'll make it home eventually, Neil," he lies softly. "Wouldn't let anyone hurt you, not again. I swear."
Swallowing hard, Logan closes his eyes, holding Neil a little tighter. "Just try and get some rest of something. You need your strength. We'll both need to be alert tomorrow once he ditches us with them."
---
"Shut up, Logan. Just shut the fuck up." My voice cracks, and I struggle weakly in his arms, 'cause I don't want to hear that shit now. He should fucking know that. I don't want him taking care of me. Not now. Not after everything that's happened. But it's short lived, and I eventually go limp against him. One broken sigh. A nod. I glance at the guy with the gun one last time and then away for good.
Reaching over, I find my med-kit in the pocket of my coat and fish out the dose of pain killers. One dose, split between the two of us. We'll be a little groggy, but only for a few hours. I'm tired of fighting tonight anyway. All that stuff 'bout sharing needles doesn't mean shit after all we've shared. We've shared fucking everything, right?
I toss the empty vial away carelessly and curl up against his side, hoping for a little sleep before all hell breaks loose again.
---
Joe watches until they both fall asleep or pass out from the painkillers or whatever the fuck it was that Neil gave the two of them and then he watches more. There's no way he'll sleep. Not because of the job, but because of the things Logan had said, because of the way they'd hit him, the way he doesn't want to admit. He just watches them.
---
Logan's up before Neil, it's not all that unusual but today it's because of pain and not the fact that he's had enough sleep. His ankle is throbbing from being tucked beneath him while he slept, and he hisses in pain and rolls up his pant leg to get a better look.
It's red and swollen, and Logan's not sure he'll be able to walk on it without being in agony each step. If he can walk at all, that is. "You carrying anything?" he asks the bounty hunter. "I'll pay you for drugs. Anything, I don't give a shit what as long as it stops the pain. You have to have something on you, in case a stray bullet catches you or... whatever. Either that or you gotta wrap this for me at least. I won't be walking anywhere with my ankle like this. Unless you plan on carrying me, you need to help me."
---
Getting up, Joe doesn't say anything, he just downs the rest of his water and then reaches into the small bag he's got on his side before he gets up and crosses the room. "Your boyfriend better not try anything," he warns, although Neil looks like he's still sleeping, then puts the gun down on the floor when he crouches in front of Logan. His boot rests heavily over it, just in case.
"Lemme see," he orders. He has something to wrap it, something for the pain, but he wants to make sure that he's not just fucking with him, trying to get some drugs out of him when he doesn't need them.
---
First I hear voices. Then there's pain. A hell of a lot of pain. My face has swelled so fucking bad my left eye won't open all the way. My other cheek tingles from being pressed against the floor in my sleep. I groan, then my eyes snap out and I shoot upright.
"Wha-?" I cough, blinking the haze away 'til my eyes finally focus on that guy hovering over Logan. "What the fuck are you doing?"
---
"He's wrapping my ankle. Least I thought he was," Logan says, watching the man closely, not sure he wanted him touching him. He showed his ankle anyway though, the skin red and the ankle swollen.
"If you give the stuff to Neil, he can do it. I don't think I want you touching me," he admits, looking just past the man instead of at him.
---
"If I'm not checking it myself, I'm not giving you any painkillers," he replies simply, tossing the bandages to the other boy and then lifting his gun before crossing the room back to where he was sitting earlier. Sinking down against the wall, he tips his head back against it again, resting there, his eyes still open. There's nothing else to say now. Neil will wrap his ankle and then they'll get going and by noon Joe won't have to worry about them anymore.
---
Grabbing the bag of food we discarded last night, I push it over toward Logan, sitting down cross-legged near his ankle and carefully lifting it into my lap. I unlace his boots and hold onto his calf as I slide the shoe off as carefully as I can. It hits the floor with a dull thump and I get to work on wrapping his ankle, trying to figure out how to get those meds off the guy without either one of us getting pistol whipped again.
"You're watching every fucking thing I'm doing, man, how's it gonna hurt you to give him the meds? You really wanna hear him bitch 'til you dump us off? You wanna have to carry him? It won't be me. His ass is too heavy for me to drag all over this fucking rock."
---
"I don't bitch," Logan mutters, hissing again in pain and pulling his foot away childishly for a moment before letting Neil take it again. "Fuck him, I don't need his fucking drugs. How's your face feel?" he asks, noticing that one of Neil's eyes was even more squinty than usual. "Lazuli won't like that. He likes his things clean and undamaged. You'll lose money for that... if he pays you at all," he snorts, remembering something.
"He bought this... TV thing once. It was nearly the size of my hand, it had this tiny scratch on it that I couldn't even find... and he shot the guy selling it to him. Said he had no respect for other people's things. That's probably the only bright spot in this whole situation," he tells the bounty hunter. "He's gonna kill us eventually, but at least we'll get to watch him shoot you first."
He gives a nasty smirk at that and tilts his head back as he watches the other man. "So what's your name, dead man? If we're walking with you to the gallows, we should all be better acquainted."
---
The night before, Joe had almost worried that they'd pegged him with their bullshit, that Logan had figured him out with his little speech about living for a person, but apparently he was wrong. If he'd been right, he figures Logan would've tried that again instead of this crap he's trying now. This 'I think I'm smarter' than you crap. He might not get paid the full amount, but he's done work for the blue-skinned fucker before, he's not likely to get shot over a fucked up ankle and a scratch on the cheek. Nothing is broken, Joe's in the clear, he knows this.
"Joe," he replies after a moment, looking faintly amused, although he says nothing about it. "But if you want, you can just keep calling me dead man. If it makes you feel better about what's gonna happen, you can call me whatever the fuck you want."
---
"I fucking swear, Logan, you don't shut the fuck up, I'll make you. If he don't get to you first." My voice is low, and I might be wrapping his leg a little too tight, but he's lucky I don't reach over and smack him in the fucking head. "We're not his fucking things. We're not anyone's fucking things, and we're gonna be just as dead as this motherfucker, so just shut up."
My hands are shaking. I feel sicker than I did before. I'm scared. But not for me. For Logan. Doesn't he fucking get that? What he did last night, I should've stopped it. After what's been going on with him these last 45 days, I should've fucking stopped it. I should've done a lot of things, but now all I can do is fucking sit here, wrapping his goddamn ankle, and he's taunting this motherfucker like the fucking idiot he obviously is.
---
"No," Logan snaps. "No I won't shut up. 'Cause you're right, we're dead. We're dead. And if that asshole makes it out alive today, I want him to remember us. When they find our bodies and plaster our faces on the news, I want him to know he did it. I want him to remember we were fucking people, not a job. 'Cause I have spent the last month doing what I was told, being fucked and hurt and... and made to feel like I was nothing. Like I was a fucking pet, Neil. So I won't shut up. I'm sick of shutting up. You're right, we aren't things... but as soon as he hands us over, we will be. And I... All I can think about is him touching you. That blue bastard is going to touch you, and..."
And that's when Logan finally breaks, tears welling up behind his eyes as he tries to take a deep breath.
It's too late though, and they are spilling down his cheeks before he can stop them.
---
It's easier not to care when they're loners, there's no one for them to talk to, no one for them to relate to, and it's a hell of a lot easier when they don't pull shit like this. As hard as he tries not to think about it, Logan starts to cry and Joe hears things he's not supposed to hear, things he's been blocking out for such a long time. He hears Billy and while it's not crying, it's close enough, it's begging. Begging for his life, for Joe's life and then it's gone because Billy got shot in the head. Joe got to keep his life and Billy got shot in the head and he knows that Lazuli is more interested in Logan. Knows he's probably going to keep Neil around for a couple weeks and then get rid of him and it reminds him of the shit that's happened in his own life and he hates it. He hates them.
"Get up," he instructs, going to the door and punching in the code. They were sneaky enough to get out, they were sneaky enough to blow town, it's easy. Joe knows how to lie. And yeah, maybe his ass will be over the fire next, but it's not like it's the first time he's fucked someone over. Sure as hell won't be the last.
---
I finish wrapping up his ankle during that tirade, hands smoothing carefully over the bandage. My face twists up in pain but the tears are all dried up. Maybe I don't let them come.
I figured we'd have a little while longer, so I feel a lurch of dread in my gut when the guy -Joe- gets up to open the door. I get to my feet. I put on my shirt and slide on my coat. His shirts still a little damp but it'll have to do. I gather up what little we have then turn to look at the man standing at the door. We can't make a run for it, not with Logan banged up like this. As it is, I lean down to help him to his feet, knowing he'll probably complain that he doesn't need any fucking help, but mostly I just want to touch him anyway. I brush my hands over his cheeks, spreading tears with my fingertips. I start planning how I might be able to talk them into taking me instead of Logan. I wonder if there's enough in the med-kit for both of us to OD 'fore Lazuli and his boys get to us.
I wonder a whole lot of things.
---
Logan let's Neil help him up without complaint, too focused on the other boy's face and the fact that it's time to go. It's all over. There's no such thing as bargaining with Lazuli, which makes Joe their last hope, and Logan swallows his pride one last time as he tries to save the other boy.
"Let him leave, Joe. Lazuli only needs me... he'll deal with just getting me. Please, okay? I'll give you anything you want, just... just let him go. We have money we can give you, or... I don't know. Fuck. Anything, alright? Name it... and I'll find a way to give it to you. You wanna take me, well that's fine. But not him, please, Joe, not him," he begs softly, keeping his eyes on Neil the whole time, his fingertips brushing over the other boy's unbruised cheek.