Own Me Just for the Night
"This is the worst prom ever," James sighs. "Not only was I nearly killed, but I was thoroughly embarrassed in front of the whole Palmwoods. And now I look like this…" "James, you look fine," Logan says. "More than fine. You look great. At least… I think so."
a/n: Another fic written for Kre! This was actually off of a prompt posted on a fic fest many months back and I've since lost the actual prompt, but the inspiration has stuck. So I hope whoever prompted it somehow finds this! I'm actually not entirely in love with how this turned out, but I like it enough to be satisfied. Please enjoy and review if the urge so strikes you! Reviews spur inspiration. BTR, as always, does not belong to me.
…
At first, all Logan had thought being crowned Prom King meant was that Camille and Steve had lost, and that was all he'd cared about.
But then it meant that he had to have a King and Queen dance with James, and while that hardly bothers Logan, James looks like he couldn't be unhappier. And a snide remark from Logan about not quite being King doesn't help things. He only really succeeds in making James snarl a warning at him.
So they go on dancing. Logan tries to make the best of the situation. As the song drags on longer than Logan thought it was supposed to, his own voice in his ears, he gets on his toes to mumble up close to James' ear so he could hear him over the music. Those stupid heels of Camille's make James even taller than before. "Hey, it could be worse…" he tries gently, pulling away to raise his eyebrow at James.
James doesn't look like he's buying it, though, and he glares down at Logan. "How?" he sounds out, dragging the single syllable like an insult, his nose twitching a little from the way he's got his mouth contorted so angrily.
"Kendall could be around to make fun of you." Logan grins, giving James' hand a brief squeeze in his own.
It works, at least a little. James' expression relaxes and his lips twitch a little in a small smile, but he tries to hide it by looking away from Logan.
"Worse," he continues, leaning up to James' ear again so he doesn't have to speak over the music. "Kendall could be your King."
James laughs at that, his head falling forward a little as he seems to relax some more, his slow sways with Logan less stiff now. Logan grins, leaning away from James' ear again to see his smile. His hand slips from James' shoulder to his waist, stroking his thumb across the silky fabric of Camille's dress soothingly. "Feeling any better?"
James hesitates, a small smile on his lips as he looks at Logan. Then he nods a little, giving a shrug with it. He doesn't force Logan's hand off his waist or struggle when Logan laces his fingers into James', trying to comfort him a little more. At least they aren't being chased by bodyguards. And at least James doesn't seem so upset anymore.
Especially when he suddenly draws closer to Logan, close enough to touch his jaw to Logan's hair, to where their bodies are close, almost up against each other. Logan slides his hand around to James' lower back, running slowly along the satin over his spine. He knows how embarrassing this is for James, and he really does feel a little bad for him. James is proud, and being put in a dress was enough of a blow without being called by a girl's name and having a tiara put on him. That was the sodium chloride rubbed in an open laceration. And although Logan is fully planning on basking in his kingliness and teasing James himself once the offense has worn off, right now he's just concerned about his friend's feelings.
Though it doesn't seem too necessary for him to do much comforting. James is drawn in close to Logan, his hand moving from his shoulder to his neck comfortably and holding onto his hand loosely but firmly. He's definitely no longer tense and rigid and forcing a stiff smile. Now his smile is easy, his body natural and comfortable dancing with his best friend.
Suddenly, someone bumps into Logan's back with a tossed "Sorry," and Logan stumbles into James' body. James' reaction is immediate, hands swooping under Logan's arms to keep him from falling, but his body is what mostly stops Logan's fall. He's pressed flush to James' torso, his face against James' shoulder and holding on to his biceps as he tries to right himself.
That's when he feels it. Against his groin, slightly above his own crotch, Logan can feel the definite hardness of James' erection pushing into him persistently. The satin fabric shifts slightly between James' member and Logan's tuxedo pants as he gets his footing.
He immediately pushes off of James and James steps away from Logan, a look of fear in his eyes as he grabs at the skirt of the dress, holding the front a little awkwardly. Logan glances around, not only to avoid looking into James' eyes, but also to see if anyone had noticed their encounter.
"Uhm. I gotta go," James mumbles, stumbling in his heels in the direction of the bathroom.
Logan, feeling bad for his reaction, tries grabbing for James' hand, chasing him a few steps. James feels awful enough without thinking Logan was weirded out by him popping a boner from dancing in a dress. The idea that James is turned on from dancing in a dress with Logan doesn't even occur to him. "James, we haven't finished out the song!"
"Yes, we have, three times," James calls over his shoulder, never stopping moving. "Gustavo's got the song on loop!" And then he disappears through the swinging door of the bathroom, leaving Logan looking a little dumbfounded. That explains why he felt like the song was going on for so long. But he feels dumb that he was apparently so distracted he didn't notice his own song was playing on repeat…
Though Logan also realizes that if James knew the song was repeating and didn't stop dancing with Logan, he had to have been enjoying something about it. Right?
Logan sighs, sure that the last thing James needs now is a confrontation in the bathroom. For all Logan knows, James is busy in there anyway…
He turns, scanning the dance floor briefly. Most people are already filing out, considering what everyone had been waiting on was to hear the announcement of Prom King and Queen. Kendall's already been dragged out by Jo's dad and a whole SWAT team, Carlos is stuck in the corner being chewed out by the Jennifers, and Camille… well, Logan has no excuse to not go talk to Camille. She's lounging at a table with… ugh, Steve, and they seem to just be chatting. Nothing Logan feels guilty interrupting.
"Hi, excuse me, I need to talk to Camille. Again," Logan interjects, taking Camille by the hand and pulling her up without waiting for any concession from either her or Steve. He feels satisfied by the annoyed look Steve shoots him as he drags Camille to the other side of the room. "James is being dramatic," Logan says without any elaboration. Then without any explanation, he reaches around to Camille's backside, feeling the rear pockets of James' tuxedo pants.
"Woah, Logan! Hands!" Camille protests, stepping away a little. She immediately goes into a tirade, gesticulating dramatically. "Just because I helped you tonight doesn't mean we're on-again. I'm sort of seeing someone and we're in plain view of that someone and everyone at the Palmwoods and he is watching right now and even if we were on-again and I wasn't seeing someone, I don't know how I'd feel about you touching me like that in public, so—"
Logan stares, wide-eyed and more than a little surprised as Camille goes on, but finally shakes his head, holding up his hands to stop her. "Camille! Stop! I was looking for James' comb!"
Camille blinks, then just says, "Oh," and feels around in the back pockets herself. Logan's own hands go (more cautiously this time) to the front pockets. He's glad Camille believes him—not that it isn't true, but Logan can't honestly say he didn't takes some sort of pleasure in feeling Camille's ass in front of Steve.
Just as Camille finds and holds up James' lucky comb, Logan's hands find something else. He tugs on a piece of thin fabric, starting to pull it from one of the pockets. "Hey, what's this?"
Camille grabs Logan's hand before he can pull it out all the way and shoves the piece back into the pocket. "Shh, Logan!" She lowers her voice and straightens up to glance around them sneakily before leaning closer to Logan in a whisper. "It's James' underwear."
Logan's jaw drops open beneath saucer-wide eyes and his voice cracks when he practically yells, "James' und—" but Camille's hand smacks over his mouth. He shakes her off and tries a softer voice this time. "James' what?"
Camille just rolls her eyes at Logan's reaction, which just annoys him in return and causes him to purse his lips and snatch the comb out of her hand. "His underwear," she explains. "He was worried about panty lines. Or… boxer-brief lines or whatever. So he shoved them in the pocket when we traded clothes." Camille shrugs, because apparently this is the most normal thing in the world to her.
But to Logan, it says a little more. He folds his arms, holding his elbow with one hand as he brings the other to his temple to rub at it. It certainly explains why it was so easy for him to feel James' erection against him earlier, considering nothing was really holding it back. But knowing now that James is wearing that dress without anything on underneath it… how the satin must feel slipping and grazing his skin under the skirt…
"Logan, are you okay? You look a little sick," Camille says, and she brings a hand up to his forehead. Logan quickly shakes himself out of his thoughts and ducks away from Camille's hand. He doesn't need her to feel how hot his face has suddenly gotten and he's only immensely grateful that the dance lighting for the prom masks the way his cheeks are surely flushed.
"I'm fine!" he manages to sputter, stumbling backwards a little in order to put some space between him and Camille. He waves James' comb in the air as he begins tripping over his feet towards the bathroom. "I—I've gotta go take care of James!"
Logan can't explain the rush—to his face and other parts…—he felt thinking about James' body under that dress. His ex's dress, no less. It's ridiculous, really, to wonder what it feels like for the silky fabric to brush against James' sensitive bare skin, how the skirt drapes over James' perfectly sculpted ass just so, how if the skirt were lifted up to James' hips, there wouldn't be anything on underneath.
Although it's only across the dance floor, Logan feels like he's run a marathon by the time he gets to the bathroom. Maybe it's the speed at which his heart is racing. He takes a moment to catch his breath and do a quick check of his appearance, even adjusts the front of his pants a little when he notices no one's there to see him do so.
What he does notice is a red headband, corsage, and silky shoulder wrap thrown into one of the sinks. Upon first glance, it really does seem like no one's in the bathroom, but Logan knows James wouldn't just leave Camille's stuff there like that. He begins down the line of stalls pushing each unlocked door open slowly until he reaches the last one. As he expected, James is sitting on the toilet in the last stall, his chin in his hands and elbows on his knees, sulking. Logan sighs, thinking of how James was just starting to feel okay barely ten minutes ago and now it's probably Logan's fault he's back to feeling miserable for reacting the way he did.
"James…" Logan starts, moving to step into the stall with him.
But James cuts him off with a mumbled "Go away."
Logan sighs again. Of course, he isn't going away. He's dedicated this night to helping James, why would he stop now? Besides, even though he got annoyed with James earlier in the night for blaming him for things going wrong, he's willing to take the blame for James' mood this time. He probably shouldn't have pushed away from him. He's a dude, and an intelligent one at that, and he's perfectly understanding of random erections, and the way James looks so dejected makes Logan's heart sink.
James' hair is sticking every which way from the headband and Logan lets himself into the stall to step close to James and begin combing his hair for him. James jumps a little until he realizes what Logan is doing and then he just sort of stares sadly up at Logan, who offers an encouraging smile back.
It's a few moments of Logan combing and smoothing out James' hair for him the way he likes it as James stares at his hands in his lap before either of them actually says anything.
"This is the worst prom ever," James sighs. "Not only was I nearly killed, but I was thoroughly embarrassed in front of the whole Palmwoods. And now I look like this…" He throws his hands up and lets them land hopelessly back in his lap, not looking up at Logan as he speaks.
Logan rolls his eyes. Yes, he knows James is upset and has at least some right to be, but he's definitely being dramatic. It isn't like anyone at the Palmwoods is going to think James is any less hot or cool when morning rolls around and everything is back to normal. He'll probably have a fare share of teasing, of course, but no one's going to stop admiring James Diamond just because he was crowned Prom Queen in a dress.
"James, you look fine," Logan says as he finishes flattening James' hair and touches his chin to lift his gaze to meet Logan's. When James opens his mouth to argue, Logan cuts him off, "More than fine. You look great. At least… I think so."
Logan can feel his cheeks go warm again, like they had with Camille, and James' mouth closes tight, the lipstick Camille had put on him creating a soft pink line.
Looking at James' lips pursed tight reminds Logan of their situation on the dance floor and the lack of undergarments under James' skirt. He hates how he's at least half the reason James feels so crappy and wishes there was something he could do to comfort his friend besides something like combing his hair for him. And thinking about what he felt when he fell against James when they were dancing…
Logan drops onto his knees on the floor in front of James, disregarding the fact that he's kneeling on a bathroom floor in tuxedo slacks, and leans up to press his lips against James', dropping the comb onto the floor in order to hold James' face in his hands. James makes a surprised noise, but he's quick to relax into the contact, and Logan soon starts to think maybe James' reaction when they were dancing was less about the dress and more about whose body he was pressed again.
Logan experimentally moves his lips against James', feeling the smear of lipstick on his mouth, tasting the latently sweet wax when he licks forward with his tongue. James parts his lips slightly, allowing Logan in, and it progressively gets sloppier from there. Logan's hands slide down from James' face to his chest to rest at his waist as James parts his knees slightly to draw Logan closer, his hands lacing up into Logan's short hair. Logan's mind keeps going to the knowledge James has nothing on under the dress and can't help letting his hand fall to James' ankle. His fingers glide up James' calf slowly, tickling enough that James squirms a little and kisses Logan harder, meeting Logan's tongue with his own.
When James reaches for his own shoulder to slip the flowered strap off, though, Logan breaks the kiss and grabs his wrist. "No," he says seriously. "You look great."
James stares at Logan, their noses close, his pupils wide with want. Logan thinks about how a person's pupils will dilate by 40% when they're looking at something they like and immediately smashes his lips into James' again, his hand gliding quicker up James' leg to his thigh and soon James is moaning into Logan's mouth and squirming slightly as Logan's hand finds its way between James' legs, the soft skirt draping over Logan's arm and around James' knees. Logan's fingers wrap around James' dick under the skirt and he shoves his tongue against James' lips as he begins stroking James slowly.
James continues to make soft noises and whines into Logan's mouth as Logan pumps him a little faster and kisses him harder, consequently trying to quiet him and make him louder at the same time. After a minute of combined kissing and stroking, James pulls off of Logan's lips with an, "Mmf, Logan…" and drops his head back for a short, pleasurable moment before he stands abruptly, yanking Logan up with him and causing Logan's hand to slip away from his job.
"James—" he begins to protest, but he's quickly shut up by James' lips again, and he can feel James' hands working at Logan's pants zipper as he walks them backwards, out of the stall and to the counter.
The only words exchanged between them as they switch places, James pinned between Logan and the counter, are James mumbling "These fucking heels…" into Logan's mouth and Logan whispering back, "Please keep them on, please…" James nods with half-lidded eyes, obeying by not kicking the shoes across the bathroom as Logan takes him by the hips and forces him to turn around, to lean sharply over the bathroom counter.
Logan stops then to slowly run his hands down James' back, to his hips where the skirt of Camille's dress flows across the curve of James' ass and sweeps over his thighs. A low groan forms in Logan's throat as he just looks at James bent over like this, thinking about the satiny skirt brushing against nothing but skin, James' erection pressing into his groin as they danced.
In a swift motion, Logan grabs the skirt and shoves it up James' thighs, over his ass, exposing his perfect muscle and slight curves. Logan fights off more noises as he slides his hands onto James' bare ass, running his hands all over him, down his thighs, wanting to touch all the unclothed area. He can see James' back rising and falling in heavy breaths and he feels across his back soothingly, pushing the dress up higher. As soon as his hand touches James' bare back, James is whining actual words. "Please, Logan… Touch me somewhere, anywhere, come on…" He pushes his ass back against Logan's hips, pulling another groan from Logan's mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips quickly.
"Okay, okay…" Logan whispers consent and his other hand creeps up between James' legs til his fingers are right at his entrance and he teases it gently, coaxing more little whines from James, who lays his cheek against the countertop and shifts slightly. Logan takes his hand from James' back to reach over and turn on one of the sinks, wetting his fingers with water. His fingers not necessarily slick, but at least slippery with water, he switches his hands, pushing a water-wet finger against James' hole. James' reaction is immediate, moaning louder than before and pressing back against Logan's touch. Logan, being impatient, inserts another finger, pushing and stretching James. Meanwhile, his spare hand finds the skirt, pushed bunched up over James' hips and grips into it, feeling the soft fabric grow warm in his grasp.
Logan is snapped out of the odd pleasure the feel of the satiny fabric gives him as he pushes inside of James when James moans at him, his voice low with a husky growl underneath it. "Ugh, Logan, come on, you can do it now…"
That's almost too much for Logan to handle and he knows he isn't going to last long. He removes his fingers from James' ass and hastily finishes undoing his pants that James had started on before. Only when he has his tuxedo pants pushed down his thighs, his cock out in his hand, stroking himself slowly, does he realize an unfortunate problem. "Fuck… James, I lied, kick of the heels…" The stupid shoes make James far too tall for Logan to take him in this position, and as much as Logan really loves the tension and shape the heels give to James' ass and thighs, he knows it's not going to work this way. James hesitates before slipping out of the shoes and gratefully allowing them to fall to the side.
With the added height of the heels taken away, James is still tall, but he's positioned low leaning on the counter enough for Logan to press the end of his dick against his entrance. James inhales sharply, turning to press his forehead against the countertop. When he pushes back, though, Logan takes it as a signal to slide all the way in, until he's fully sheathed inside James' heat, tight around him, and he moans low in his throat behind lips pressed tight together. He bunches up the skirt in his fist again, holding firmly against James' hip as he braces a hand on his lower back. He isn't as slow about it as he knows he should be, but Logan doesn't just begin fucking James roughly, either. He begins moving, short thrusts against James' ass, pressing his hips against him as close as he can get.
When he presses down on James' lower back, causing him to bend his knees slightly, changing the angle of Logan's thrusts, James shouts suddenly, a sound that dissolves into a moan. Logan stares as his hips still, but he quickly picks the pace back up, dying to hear James make that noise again. James complies, desperate moans falling from him every time Logan pushes into him now. Sometimes Logan can make out words in the throaty whines, some "Fuckfuckfuck," "Logan," "Please, god, please," repeated over and over.
One thing he definitely understands is "Touch me," and as soon as Logan hears it, he drops the fistful of skirt to reach beneath it and wrap his hand around James' dick. He resumes stroking as earlier, and if James' words can become more slurred and needy, they do. The sound of James begging, moaning, only makes Logan move his hand faster, thrust his hips harder, just dying to peak at this point. Not only that, but to make James come, to hear what other noises he has to offer.
Within a minute of putting his fingers around James' cock, the pretty boy—prettier than Logan has ever seen him, not only because of the dress and makeup, but the noises and position and situation make him so beautiful, Logan wishes he could see James' face, surely flushed red and sheened in sweat—the pretty boy is giving a deep, chesty moan of "Lo—gan, oh, god…" Logan can feel the warmth of James coming over his hand, and he doesn't really consider how the cum spatters and smears on the inside of Camille's skirt.
Everything about James tenses up as he comes, his thighs, his ass, every muscle, and Logan didn't think he could get tighter or hotter, but he does, and in the next couple thrusts into James' oversensitive body, Logan's spilling with a series of gasps and whines. James is pushing his ass back against Logan in the final moments of his climax, and it's so good, Logan has a fleeting thought of "Why doesn't James wear dresses all the time?"
Things still and James is leaning over the counter breathing heavily, showing no signs of getting up. He doesn't move, only whines a little when Logan pulls out of him to tuck himself back in his pants quickly, fixing himself at least enough to pull his pants back up. He runs his hands over James' ass one last time before pulling the skirt back down over his legs, taking James by the hips to urge him to stand up straight. James moans with the movement, turning in Logan's hands to face him, but still leans back against the counter.
Logan can't fight the small smile on his lips when he watches James drop his head back, his face still ruddy red from his cheeks down his neck and even on his partially-exposed chest. He kisses under James' chin, effectively getting his attention again, and James lowers his eyes back to Logan, eyes still hazy and half-closed. Logan raises his eyebrows slowly, uncertainly. "Feeling any better…?"
James actually smiles, breathes a laugh. "Yeah… better…"
"Good," Logan smirks, giving James' hips a brief squeeze before he goes about fixing his pants, tucking his shirt in, straightening everything up. He pushes the heels back towards James with his foot on his way to the sink that still houses all the things James removed from his ensemble in his little fit. He takes the earrings first to put back on James, causing him to frown.
"What are you doing?" James asks, voice low and suspicious.
"Making you look pretty again," Logan replies as he wraps the shawl around James' shoulders. When James' frown turns offended, he rolls his eyes and puts the headband on him. "Not that you don't always look pretty, geez…"
James huffs, a little more satisfied, and shrugs the shawl higher on his shoulders with his nose in the air. "Fine. But why?"
Logan's slipping the corsage over James' hand onto his wrist when he grins up at him. "We still have to take our prom picture. Put your shoes back on," he tells him, ignoring James' dropped jaw and starting towards the bathroom door with a little skip in his step.
"What? No. No! No prom picture!" James shouts, then gives a quiet moan at the dull ache in his hips as he bends over to pick up the shoes—because he's not putting those devil creations back on his feet. He straightens back up and runs after Logan. "Logan! I am not taking a picture like this! Come on!"