Brothers On A Hotel Bed (Logan/Dick) R
Title: Brothers On A Hotel Bed
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Logan/Cassidy, Logan/Dick
Summary: And I pull you down and my lips touch yours and you whisper something and it makes my skin burn.
Your voice always makes my skin burn.
I think that’s how I first knew…
Word Count: 2178
Authors Note: This started out as something completely different and turned into something a lot darker.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I guess you can say it started the day I decided to go down on you in your car after school one day because I was bored and I wanted to see what would happen if I tried. Seriously if I hadn’t done that nothing ever would have happened and afterward you looked at me so shocked like “What the hell did little Beaver Casablancas just do?” And I could have gotten off on just that, the look on your face, the shock, the amazement.
And I’m thinking about that day while I’m letting you handcuff me to your bed.
And I can feel the cool steel on my wrists you’re sitting on my chest and all I can do is breathe and stare up at you and you lean down and your hair brushes my cheek and I whisper in your ear “This is so gonna be worth it, I swear.”
It’s the same thing I said to you that day in your car.
And then you brush the skin beneath my ear but not my cheek with your lips a kiss but not and then you sit up, you look at me, you smile.
You touch my chest with your right hand, run your nails lightly down my skin but hard enough so that I can feel it.
“Can you breathe?” you ask me, because you’re still straddling me and not even close to moving.
I nod.
Maybe it’s just because you’re being so goddamn gentle about the whole thing.
Or maybe it’s just because I know this is pretty tame compared to what I’d let you do to me which is pretty much anything, pretty tame compared to the kind of things that I want to do to you…deep down…
You unsnap my jeans and I realize that this is actually going to happen.
And I breathe in quickly without meaning too.
And you stop.
“Are you okay?” you ask me.
“Yes.” I say.
“We don’t have to do this.” You tell me.
“I know.” I say.
And you look at me and I don’t know maybe you’re suddenly hit with some kid of invisible morality arrow.
“Cass,” you begin and I can see it in your eyes.
I’m not in love with you.
You know it.
And you’re in love with her.
I know it.
And doing this with me while wanting someone else might be considered by some people to be kind of, sort of wrong and I can see you considering this inside your brain, I can see it all clicking together.
“We don’t have to do this.” You say again.
And what do I think?
This is what I think: Fuck the right thing because I know and you know this is all I’m ever gonna get. Because I need you, want you, crave you that much and blah, blah, blah.
I don’t love you. I don’t love anybody. But I want you and that’s enough. We’re both alone and really who are we hurting?
I want this and that’s all that fucking matters.
“I want this.” I say.
“But,” you begin.
“I want this.” I say again but you still seem conflicted.
“Do you think Duncan ever lets Veronica chain him up like this,” I say “Or are they still stuck on missionary and rose petals?”
And that’s all it takes.
You rip of my jeans and I’m naked before I can let out a “ ‘Bout time.”
And then you’re in me and yeah…it hurts.
Not because it’s my first time or anything (because I haven’t been a virgin since I was twelve years old even if no one else knows…) but because you were a little too eager and didn’t prepare.
Yeah it hurts it really does.
“Jesus,” you say.
“Dude,” I say “don’t kill the mood.”
You look at me then.
“If were gonna do this,” I say “let’s do it right. Leave some scar’s.” I say.
And you stare at me then (still in me) like you’re seeing me for the first time.
“Come on,” I say “how long’s it been since you’ve put all that frustration to some good use?”
And then it’s like you’re seeing me for the first time.
“Come on.” I say again and maybe it’s because of the way I look at you but this time you don’t hesitate.
Afterwards you don’t look at me, shot with that morality arrow I guess.
Whatever. I got what I wanted and I have things to do.
I won’t tell and neither will you.
I slip out of your house and into the darkness. When I finally get home there’s Dick playing video games in the living room.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“Getting plowed by your sweetie,” I briefly consider saying just to see the look on his face and I wonder who’s name would pop into his head first: Madison’s…or Logan’s?
But it’s late and I don’t feel like dealing.
“Out.” I say.
And he looks at me like he plans to say something else, considers the idea and gets bored.
He shrugs and goes back to his game.
I walk in my room and close the door.
By morning the whole thing’s forgotten.
* * *
So it’s been two weeks and my brother’s still dead so I figure there’s not much point in leaving my house or doing you know…anything besides drinking and watching TV ever again.
So of course today would be the day you’d decide to show up.
I guess I left the door unlocked because I’m lying on my couch watching L.C. and Jason argue when you walk in.
I’m still getting over last nights bender because all I can do is raise my head for about two seconds to look at you when you walk in.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” you say.
And I lay my head back down.
It’s been two weeks and my brother is still a mass murderer and still dead and my phone is still unplugged because the constant death threats, and interview requests, and calls from my mother demanding to know how I could have let this happen how could I have not protected my baby brother were getting a tad annoying.
Also the whole thing with you calling and not saying anything and hanging up the second I said your name? Yeah that got real old real fast too.
“You missed the funeral,” I say.
“Yeah,” you reply and then you say “I’m sorry.”
And then I say “No, no, no, dude don’t apologize I mean I guess I…I guess I must have forgotten to send out the invitations or something because no one showed except for you know…My Mom and her boyfriend and…that Mac chick….yeah it’s probably my fault. Totally. Don’t even,” I say and then I stand up, walk over to the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge, you follow me.
“Don’t even make a thing about it,” I pop open the can and watch you stare at me while I down it in record time.
“How’s Veronica?” I say.
“How are you?” you say.
“Fine!” I say “Great!” I say “I’m thinking about buying a cat.”
And then I head back towards the fridge to grab another beer but I guess I must stumble a little or something because all of a sudden you reach out and grab me.
“Maybe a Persian…” I say.
“You need to lay down,” you say.
I’m probably very drunk and my brother was still raped by the Mayor, and jumped off a building, and is currently rotting in the ground, and you’re helping me walk to my room, your arms are around me and dude…you’re warm.
“Come on,” you say.
And I want to ask about Veronica again but I don’t. I kind of get the feeling you’d like it better if I didn’t mention her right now and I have no problem with that.
The world is still kind of spinning and you’re helping me into my bed.
He was all crushed and they asked me if it was going to be a closed casket funeral or if he would just be cremated and they kept looking at me while saying this and Dad was gone and Mom was gone and Kendall wasn’t interested and it was just me and someone had to say something and his face was all smashed and his bones were all crushed and I told them closed casket that’s what I said because it was the first thing that popped into my head.
And it’s not until I’m laying in bed and you’re staring at me that I realize I’d just said all that out loud.
“Aw Dick,” you begin like you feel like you have to say something.
Logan old buddy, old pal, such a good friend…
Such a…
“Don’t,” I say “just…” because I can’t deal.
And then because it’s not like I have anything else to lose “Does Veronica know…does she know you’re here?”
You shake your head you tell me ‘no’ and I know that you’re being honest.
“She wouldn’t want you here,” I say.
“No,” you say “she wouldn’t.”
My brother the rapist. My brother the dead rapist. My brother the raped.
My brother.
“But you came anyway.” I say.
“Yeah,” you say “I did.”
And it’s so fucking late, and I feel so sick, and maybe that’s the only reason I think that maybe I could get away with what I decide to do.
I’m lying on my bed and you’re sitting on my bed talking to me.
Kind of leaning over…talking to me.
You’re looking at me and I’m looking at you and I think maybe for a second that you know what I’m going to do…but then again maybe not.
I mean it’s not like your psychic.
I reach my hand up, I touch your neck.
“Dick,” you say.
But you don’t even try to pull away.
“Dick,” you say again.
And the words they’re just coming I don’t even know what it is that I’m saying.
“I need this. I need you.”
And I’m looking at you and I’m still really dizzy but I know what I’m saying.
I’ll remember this in the morning but I’ll pretend different.
Logan…we both can.
You sigh and say “Okay…okay.”
And I pull you down and my lips touch yours and you whisper something and it makes my skin burn.
Your voice always makes my skin burn.
I think that’s how I first knew…
You’re on top of me now and your tongue is in my mouth and I know that you’ve done this before, despite being all about Veronica and despite being all about Lilly…
I know that you’ve done this before.
I reach up and I pull off your shirt and you let me.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell you.
Your hands are down my jeans.
“I know this is a one time thing.”
You don’t have to say anything.
And so you pull of my jeans, you pull of my shirt…and you don’t.
* * *
Afterwards we’re quiet. You’re naked under my sheets, the sun is coming up, and neither of us are looking at the other.
I take a peek at you just for a second, you’re staring at my wall. I want to touch your shoulder, lick your skin, but I don’t.
And then you get up and you start to get dressed.
“Logan,” I begin.
Your jeans are on now and you pause to look at me “Don’t you say…just don’t.”
I don’t know how this started.
I can’t even begin to explain.
I’m shirtless and sock less and a tiny bit scared shitless but something about the way your bare chest felt being so near mine so…I don’t know…comforting? I have to say something.
Because I love you.
You know it.
And you love her.
I know it.
And that’s all there is to it.
And she can’t bear to be around me so…there you go.
But I have to say something.
“I think…I think I might actually get that cat.”
By this time you’ve pulled on your shirt and you pause again and look at me.
And then…you smile. “Cat’s are…yeah you should do that Dick.”
And then I smile.
And then you say “I have to go.”
And you grab your shoes, walk out the door, and you’re gone.
I stare at the door for about five minutes, and then I cover my face with my sheets. And just for a second I can smell your skin and I don’t think about my brother at all.
Then I have to pee. So I get out of bed go to the bathroom, piss, than take a shower.
And I watch TV for the rest of the morning.
And maybe at some point you call.
If you did I wouldn’t have known. I consider briefly plugging the phone back in…but it just seems like way too much work.
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Logan/Cassidy, Logan/Dick
Summary: And I pull you down and my lips touch yours and you whisper something and it makes my skin burn.
Your voice always makes my skin burn.
I think that’s how I first knew…
Word Count: 2178
Authors Note: This started out as something completely different and turned into something a lot darker.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I guess you can say it started the day I decided to go down on you in your car after school one day because I was bored and I wanted to see what would happen if I tried. Seriously if I hadn’t done that nothing ever would have happened and afterward you looked at me so shocked like “What the hell did little Beaver Casablancas just do?” And I could have gotten off on just that, the look on your face, the shock, the amazement.
And I’m thinking about that day while I’m letting you handcuff me to your bed.
And I can feel the cool steel on my wrists you’re sitting on my chest and all I can do is breathe and stare up at you and you lean down and your hair brushes my cheek and I whisper in your ear “This is so gonna be worth it, I swear.”
It’s the same thing I said to you that day in your car.
And then you brush the skin beneath my ear but not my cheek with your lips a kiss but not and then you sit up, you look at me, you smile.
You touch my chest with your right hand, run your nails lightly down my skin but hard enough so that I can feel it.
“Can you breathe?” you ask me, because you’re still straddling me and not even close to moving.
I nod.
Maybe it’s just because you’re being so goddamn gentle about the whole thing.
Or maybe it’s just because I know this is pretty tame compared to what I’d let you do to me which is pretty much anything, pretty tame compared to the kind of things that I want to do to you…deep down…
You unsnap my jeans and I realize that this is actually going to happen.
And I breathe in quickly without meaning too.
And you stop.
“Are you okay?” you ask me.
“Yes.” I say.
“We don’t have to do this.” You tell me.
“I know.” I say.
And you look at me and I don’t know maybe you’re suddenly hit with some kid of invisible morality arrow.
“Cass,” you begin and I can see it in your eyes.
I’m not in love with you.
You know it.
And you’re in love with her.
I know it.
And doing this with me while wanting someone else might be considered by some people to be kind of, sort of wrong and I can see you considering this inside your brain, I can see it all clicking together.
“We don’t have to do this.” You say again.
And what do I think?
This is what I think: Fuck the right thing because I know and you know this is all I’m ever gonna get. Because I need you, want you, crave you that much and blah, blah, blah.
I don’t love you. I don’t love anybody. But I want you and that’s enough. We’re both alone and really who are we hurting?
I want this and that’s all that fucking matters.
“I want this.” I say.
“But,” you begin.
“I want this.” I say again but you still seem conflicted.
“Do you think Duncan ever lets Veronica chain him up like this,” I say “Or are they still stuck on missionary and rose petals?”
And that’s all it takes.
You rip of my jeans and I’m naked before I can let out a “ ‘Bout time.”
And then you’re in me and yeah…it hurts.
Not because it’s my first time or anything (because I haven’t been a virgin since I was twelve years old even if no one else knows…) but because you were a little too eager and didn’t prepare.
Yeah it hurts it really does.
“Jesus,” you say.
“Dude,” I say “don’t kill the mood.”
You look at me then.
“If were gonna do this,” I say “let’s do it right. Leave some scar’s.” I say.
And you stare at me then (still in me) like you’re seeing me for the first time.
“Come on,” I say “how long’s it been since you’ve put all that frustration to some good use?”
And then it’s like you’re seeing me for the first time.
“Come on.” I say again and maybe it’s because of the way I look at you but this time you don’t hesitate.
Afterwards you don’t look at me, shot with that morality arrow I guess.
Whatever. I got what I wanted and I have things to do.
I won’t tell and neither will you.
I slip out of your house and into the darkness. When I finally get home there’s Dick playing video games in the living room.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“Getting plowed by your sweetie,” I briefly consider saying just to see the look on his face and I wonder who’s name would pop into his head first: Madison’s…or Logan’s?
But it’s late and I don’t feel like dealing.
“Out.” I say.
And he looks at me like he plans to say something else, considers the idea and gets bored.
He shrugs and goes back to his game.
I walk in my room and close the door.
By morning the whole thing’s forgotten.
* * *
So it’s been two weeks and my brother’s still dead so I figure there’s not much point in leaving my house or doing you know…anything besides drinking and watching TV ever again.
So of course today would be the day you’d decide to show up.
I guess I left the door unlocked because I’m lying on my couch watching L.C. and Jason argue when you walk in.
I’m still getting over last nights bender because all I can do is raise my head for about two seconds to look at you when you walk in.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” you say.
And I lay my head back down.
It’s been two weeks and my brother is still a mass murderer and still dead and my phone is still unplugged because the constant death threats, and interview requests, and calls from my mother demanding to know how I could have let this happen how could I have not protected my baby brother were getting a tad annoying.
Also the whole thing with you calling and not saying anything and hanging up the second I said your name? Yeah that got real old real fast too.
“You missed the funeral,” I say.
“Yeah,” you reply and then you say “I’m sorry.”
And then I say “No, no, no, dude don’t apologize I mean I guess I…I guess I must have forgotten to send out the invitations or something because no one showed except for you know…My Mom and her boyfriend and…that Mac chick….yeah it’s probably my fault. Totally. Don’t even,” I say and then I stand up, walk over to the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge, you follow me.
“Don’t even make a thing about it,” I pop open the can and watch you stare at me while I down it in record time.
“How’s Veronica?” I say.
“How are you?” you say.
“Fine!” I say “Great!” I say “I’m thinking about buying a cat.”
And then I head back towards the fridge to grab another beer but I guess I must stumble a little or something because all of a sudden you reach out and grab me.
“Maybe a Persian…” I say.
“You need to lay down,” you say.
I’m probably very drunk and my brother was still raped by the Mayor, and jumped off a building, and is currently rotting in the ground, and you’re helping me walk to my room, your arms are around me and dude…you’re warm.
“Come on,” you say.
And I want to ask about Veronica again but I don’t. I kind of get the feeling you’d like it better if I didn’t mention her right now and I have no problem with that.
The world is still kind of spinning and you’re helping me into my bed.
He was all crushed and they asked me if it was going to be a closed casket funeral or if he would just be cremated and they kept looking at me while saying this and Dad was gone and Mom was gone and Kendall wasn’t interested and it was just me and someone had to say something and his face was all smashed and his bones were all crushed and I told them closed casket that’s what I said because it was the first thing that popped into my head.
And it’s not until I’m laying in bed and you’re staring at me that I realize I’d just said all that out loud.
“Aw Dick,” you begin like you feel like you have to say something.
Logan old buddy, old pal, such a good friend…
Such a…
“Don’t,” I say “just…” because I can’t deal.
And then because it’s not like I have anything else to lose “Does Veronica know…does she know you’re here?”
You shake your head you tell me ‘no’ and I know that you’re being honest.
“She wouldn’t want you here,” I say.
“No,” you say “she wouldn’t.”
My brother the rapist. My brother the dead rapist. My brother the raped.
My brother.
“But you came anyway.” I say.
“Yeah,” you say “I did.”
And it’s so fucking late, and I feel so sick, and maybe that’s the only reason I think that maybe I could get away with what I decide to do.
I’m lying on my bed and you’re sitting on my bed talking to me.
Kind of leaning over…talking to me.
You’re looking at me and I’m looking at you and I think maybe for a second that you know what I’m going to do…but then again maybe not.
I mean it’s not like your psychic.
I reach my hand up, I touch your neck.
“Dick,” you say.
But you don’t even try to pull away.
“Dick,” you say again.
And the words they’re just coming I don’t even know what it is that I’m saying.
“I need this. I need you.”
And I’m looking at you and I’m still really dizzy but I know what I’m saying.
I’ll remember this in the morning but I’ll pretend different.
Logan…we both can.
You sigh and say “Okay…okay.”
And I pull you down and my lips touch yours and you whisper something and it makes my skin burn.
Your voice always makes my skin burn.
I think that’s how I first knew…
You’re on top of me now and your tongue is in my mouth and I know that you’ve done this before, despite being all about Veronica and despite being all about Lilly…
I know that you’ve done this before.
I reach up and I pull off your shirt and you let me.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell you.
Your hands are down my jeans.
“I know this is a one time thing.”
You don’t have to say anything.
And so you pull of my jeans, you pull of my shirt…and you don’t.
* * *
Afterwards we’re quiet. You’re naked under my sheets, the sun is coming up, and neither of us are looking at the other.
I take a peek at you just for a second, you’re staring at my wall. I want to touch your shoulder, lick your skin, but I don’t.
And then you get up and you start to get dressed.
“Logan,” I begin.
Your jeans are on now and you pause to look at me “Don’t you say…just don’t.”
I don’t know how this started.
I can’t even begin to explain.
I’m shirtless and sock less and a tiny bit scared shitless but something about the way your bare chest felt being so near mine so…I don’t know…comforting? I have to say something.
Because I love you.
You know it.
And you love her.
I know it.
And that’s all there is to it.
And she can’t bear to be around me so…there you go.
But I have to say something.
“I think…I think I might actually get that cat.”
By this time you’ve pulled on your shirt and you pause again and look at me.
And then…you smile. “Cat’s are…yeah you should do that Dick.”
And then I smile.
And then you say “I have to go.”
And you grab your shoes, walk out the door, and you’re gone.
I stare at the door for about five minutes, and then I cover my face with my sheets. And just for a second I can smell your skin and I don’t think about my brother at all.
Then I have to pee. So I get out of bed go to the bathroom, piss, than take a shower.
And I watch TV for the rest of the morning.
And maybe at some point you call.
If you did I wouldn’t have known. I consider briefly plugging the phone back in…but it just seems like way too much work.