One-shot smut inspired by Big Time Secret! Enjoy!
Just Tell Me
He's been avoiding her. She wasn't positive at first, because she was busy filming, and he was working on finishing their second album, and who's to say if he was purposely not talking to her or was just tired from constantly being at the studio?
But no. Now she was positive. He actually wasn't speaking to her. He'd actually gotten up and left the lobby when she walked in earlier in the week, and just yesterday she knew for a fact that the boys were off, and he still refused to come down to the pool and hang out with everyone. Kendall had avoided meeting her eyes when she'd asked where he was, mumbling something about Logan wanting to get some studying done, as if he hadn't already completed his assignments for the whole week.
She knew Kendall was lying to her, but she dropped it. He seemed to appreciate that she didn't press him for more answers, though she wanted to demand that he tell her exactly what the hell was going on. She didn't even bother asking James or Carlos—even if they knew, they'd never violate the bro code, or the keep secrets code, or the don't-tell-your-friend's-ex-why-you're-avoiding-them code or whatever the fuck it was.
So Camille turned to the only other person who could possibly help. Lucy was super different from Jo—much more sarcastic and tough, and maybe a little rough around the edges, but once you got to know her, she was perfectly friendly. She was every bit as good a friend as Jo had been. Camille's grateful for that, because God knew she needed a girl around to talk to. The Jennifers couldn't be trusted to give sound advice, but Lucy was honest and to the point, and maybe sometimes a little too blunt. But sometimes Camille needs that. Thankfully, because of having spent pretty much a whole day with him, Lucy's able to offer some insight to this new Logan situation.
"He was really pissed when he thought you and Kendall were dating behind his back," she shrugs. "Maybe he's not a hundred percent convinced all of it was just an act."
"That's stupid," Camille rolls her eyes. "Logan knows I would never do that."
"Yeah, well, for a genius, Logan seems pretty dumb when it comes to girls. No offense."
Camille bites her lip to suppress a giggle. "It's complicated with us," is all she offers by way of explanation.
"You don't say," Lucy says sarcastically. "I gathered that when instead of confronting you he decided to hide inside the lobby vending machine to spy on you and Kendall."
"Was he really that upset?"
"Upset doesn't really do it justice. Livid, maybe. Furious. Enraged…"
"Okay, okay, I get the picture," Camille interrupts. "So what should I do?"
Lucy shrugs her shoulders again. "The way I see it, there are three options here. You can either confront him about it, you can wait for him to cool off, or you can apologize."
Camille frowns. "We've played the waiting game, that's out. And I know he's mad, but I don't really think I have anything to apologize for. Kendall and I didn't do anything wrong. We've never thought about each other that way."
"Then I guess you have your answer, don't you?"
She doesn't know why they insist on playing these games with each other. They like each other, they date, they break up, they get jealous, they flirt, and it's just this exhausting, never-ending cycle of will they or won't they. They're a real-life teen melodrama, she thinks. They could sell their life story to a show on the CW.
While on set for Spy High, she receives a text message invite to a 'social gathering' in Guitar Dude's apartment, on the top floor of the Palm Woods. That should be fun. Since he lives so high up, Bitters usually doesn't find out about any of the shenanigans he might get up to, mostly because he's too lazy to actually patrol every floor.
Filming runs late that day, so it's already dark out when they're released for the day. In her dressing room, she takes off her costume and stage makeup, transforming from Special Agent Mila Stark back into Camille Roberts, Confused and Slightly Angry Teenage Girl.
Stupid Logan, with his stupid jealousy, and his stupid silent treatment, and his stupid dimples, and his stupid brown eyes. Stupid.
She fumes about this all the way home, and she's still thinking about how best to confront him when she steps into the elevator in the Palm Woods lobby. Should she just go knock on the door of 2J and demand that he explain to her what exactly he's so mad about? That'd be a great scene.
As the elevator doors are closing and she pushes the button to Guitar Dude's floor, she hears someone call out.
"Hey, hold the door, please!"
Camille automatically sticks her arm into the gap between the elevator door and the wall before realizing that she knows who the voice belongs to. Logan darts into the elevator, muttering a quick thanks before he notices who he's just jumped in with.
"Oh, er… hi." He catches her eye for a brief moment before obstinately looking away again.
This rubs Camille the wrong way. She's already irritated from her long day on set, and she doesn't need this right now. Not at all. She takes a deep breath and forces herself to calm down. Elevator rides don't last forever, after all. She'll be home free soon enough.
No sooner than she reassures herself of this does the elevator, with a scary screech and shudder, come to a halt.
But the doors aren't opening.
"Oh, what the fuck?" Logan says out loud. He presses the button to their floor destination again, but nothing happens. Frustrated, he presses several more of the buttons, to no avail.
"Are we… stuck?" Camille asks, speaking for the first time.
"Clearly," Logan snaps.
"Don't bite my head off," Camille retorts. "I was just asking."
"Yeah, well we are. Great."
"Fantastic." There's no intercom they can use to call Bitters, and no security camera that anyone will be able to see them on. They could be stuck for hours before someone realizes what's happened.
He shoots her a moody look and she glares right back at him, daring him to say what's on his mind. Instead he crosses his arms and looks away again. This is the final straw for Camille. She's sick of him never just saying what the fuck he's thinking, she's sick of him being indecisive over their relationship—if you could call it that—and she's sick of just being the cool girl who he thinks will always just be waiting around for him to make up his mind.
"Logan, what is your problem?"
He looks mildly surprised at her outburst. "I don't have a problem," he answers, teeth grit together and jaw clenched in an obvious lie.
"Don't give me that," Camille bites back. "You've been avoiding me and ignoring me for a week. What's wrong? What's your problem?" She repeats her question scathingly, knowing that she's about to pick a fight, and feeling like this has been a long time coming.
"Fine! You're my problem, if you must know," Logan tells her, turning to face her. He stares down at her defiantly, waiting for the ensuing argument.
"I'm your problem? What did I do?"
"Camille, are you serious?" He asks incredulously. "I thought you were dating my best friend! Did you expect me to be happy about that?"
"Am I serious?" She repeats to him. "Am I serious? Logan… are you serious? Kendall and I weren't really dating! And even if we were, I don't see why you should care so much!"
"Because you should've known how it would look to me! You should've known how I would feel! Just because we aren't together doesn't mean I want to see you with other guys! Especially not my best friend!"
"Well I'm sorry you feel that way, but it's not my fault you're too much of a coward to just come out and tell me what you're thinking! How do you think I feel? You think I like sitting around waiting on you to be ready? You don't want to be with me, but you don't want to let me be with anyone else, either! I don't understand exactly what it is you want from me."
"That's not—" Logan starts. "I don't— Oh my God, just forget it."
"No! I don't want to forget it! Why don't you just tell me what you want, for once?" Camille pushes him harder than she intends, forcing him to take a step back towards the elevator wall.
Logan meets her challenging gaze for a split second before acting. He steps toward her again, and she stands her ground. His hands come up to her face, tilting her chin before crashing his lips against hers. He tangles his fingers in her wavy hair, cupping the back of her neck to keep her in place as their mouths move against each other. They're backing up towards the opposite wall, not even realizing what they're doing until Camille finds herself caught between it and Logan's body.
"You," is all he says when he breaks away, breathless. "What I want is you."
"Then you have me," she tells him.
Camille yanks Logan back down to her, parting her lips and letting him slide his tongue inside her mouth, fighting with him for dominance before allowing him to take control. His hand snakes around her back, pulling her body to his as he presses himself into her. He leaves her mouth to gain some breath before attaching himself to her neck, leaving a hot trail of kisses down to her collarbone while she grips a fistful of his hair.
Her hands move to his shoulders to push off the cardigan he's wearing over his t-shirt, and he throws it to the floor in a hurry before pulling off the shirt, too. He kisses her again, hand wandering beneath the hemline of her dress, moving between her legs, exhilarated and somehow unsurprised at the heat he finds there. He rubs her over the material, but the low whine that emits from her throat tells him she wants more, so he hooks his fingers under the band and pulls down the lacy fabric to get it out of the way. Logan smirks at her sharp intake of breath when he touches her, watching her eyes slip close when his fingers find her clit. She moans into his neck as teases her most sensitive area, nails digging into his shoulders.
She whimpers in protest when he stops, but it's only to explore a bit further, because soon two fingers are pushing their way into her entrance, causing her to let out a hiss at the sudden intrusion. Her knees are going weak, and it's a good thing he's got her up against the wall, because she doesn't think she could stand on her own at this point. Camille rolls her hips forward, desperate to create more friction and heat between them, and feels how hard Logan's gotten. She fumbles with his belt and the button on his jeans before successfully pushing them down his legs.
He removes his hand, slick with her wetness, and grinds his crotch against into hers, a low growl escaping his throat at the contact he's been craving. Camille tugs on the waistband of his boxers and he pulls away from her just long enough for her to slide them down his thighs.
"No more teasing," she whispers. "I want you. Now."
With that, Logan lifts her rather effortlessly, and with her back braced on the wall, she wraps her legs around his waist so that he can push himself inside her. She gasps at the feeling, her body wanting to protest the quickness of the action, and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying out. Her body feels like it's on fire, but the pain can't overpower the pleasure she's experiencing, so when Logan pulls out a little and pushes back into her, she moves against him as much as she can, not wanting to lose a bit of the delicious heat building between them.
If he'd had time to think about it, Logan would have been more nervous now than he ever had been in his whole life. Nothing could have prepared him for this; not any of James' stories, or the magazines Kendall keeps hidden underneath his mattress, or the websites Carlos has bookmarked on their laptop. He almost didn't believe it was going to happen until it actually was happening, and he's not nervous at all right now because all he can focus on is how good this feels, how tight and wet Camille is around him, how he fits perfectly inside her, and fuck, did he already mention how good it feels?
"Logan," Camille breathes when he slams into her yet again. The sound of his name on her lips, and he knows he's a goner.
Neither can stop the noises coming from their mouths as he takes her harder, going faster in an attempt to increase the pleasure between them, sending their bodies into overdrive. He palms her breast over the thin dress she has on, surprised and impossibly more aroused when he realizes she doesn't have a bra on underneath. Logan grunts with each buck of his hips, his rhythm growing erratic as the heat courses through them.
"So—good—" he mumbles incoherently, kissing her neck and shoulder and whatever else he can reach.
"Yeah, nnngh, right there," Camille moans.
With another gasp and roll of her hips, he feels her walls pulsing around him, clenching his cock as her orgasm wracks through her. It sends him over the edge and he comes harder than he ever has before, and as his body stills he has just enough time to wonder if his own hand will ever again be good enough to replicate this experience.
She lets her legs down from around his waist, and he grips her by the hipbone as they both catch their breath, keeping his forehead pressed to hers.
"That was—"
"Amazing," he finishes for her, kissing her one more time before stooping down to pick up his pants.
He's putting his shirt back on and Camille carefully puts her panties into a hidden pocket in her purse as the elevator gives another scary jolt and begins moving again, taking them back down to the lobby, where Bitters and Buddha Bob greet them with apologies about how someone forgot to put an Out of Order sign on the door.
They step out, holding hands, telling Bitters not to worry.
"So, about that party," Logan grins down at Camille.
"Let's skip it."
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