One Shot.

I don't own Big Time Rush okay! I don't own them at all!

I have trouble with writing because only now have I've been hit with a bout of inspiration from, I don't know. I wrote this in the middle of my O levels on my phone in the middle of the night, and left it to gather dust since then. And when I started reading the note from my phone... I felt tingling thingies on my fingers. I knew I had to refine it.

So there you go, this is not slash but it's a friendship fic between Kendall Knight and Logan Mitchell.

This is dedicated to all you kogan lovers out there, even though this isn't slash. This is also dedicated to Clarry, for being there by just writing, like wow. You should go check her stories out, they do things to your heart. Or maybe it's just mine...

And this is also for Josephine, my wonderful friend and beta who puts up with my crap. I love you!

Enjoy. :)

The endless inconsistent rapping at keys were the only sounds that he listened to at the dead of night. It was dark, with the exception of the glaring light illuminating his worn out expression and momentarily hurting his eyes. He read through the content, determined to complete the given task on time. The unnecessary abuse of caffeine and headache medicine was what Logan Mitchell did on a period, even though time and again he had made mental notes to himself so as to not hurt his body ever again.

The shrill of night echoed, caressing his eyelids and soothing his ears, numbing his wrists from the lack of blood circulation from typing into his laptop. He let out a rush of air through his nostrils, blinking back the temptation of another night. He rejected the midnight voice, and although he agreed that hadn't had some much needed sleep, he had to complete his work.

Work, work, work. It never seemed to end. It mocked him, evaded his grasp to accomplishing the goal he had set in his mind. Logan strived for perfection academically, and right now he was at a dead end. Muttering to himself, he absently reached out for the coffee mug that the contents had grown cold. Pressing his chapped lips against the ceramic mug, he let the rest of the remaining coffee through the spaces between his lips, slithering down his throat and shivering at the chill it gave. He cleared his throat a little bit too loud than he should. He stretched, tense muscles protesting against his movement, and he groaned at the aches, immediately regretting that he should have taken breaks.

Okay, just one more. One more review. One more review of the report and I'm done for tonight.

He went at it again, resuming the same position, tapping away at his laptop. His eyebrows furrowed together into a tight line, skin creasing as he went deeper in thought. In spite of the deafening silence of the dark room with the exception of the light whirr of the laptop and his tapping, he heard something shift. Turning covertly to his sides, he dismissed the noise as something unimportant. Wild animals could get near Palmwoods, right?

Instead he was met with a weight on his shoulder, something warm and bending to the curve of his shoulder.

He squeaked, spinning around so fast that his head spun, and moving to get the object out of his shoulder. He stopped halfway when he saw that the object was connected to something bigger. If it wasn't for the light from the laptop, he would have thought it was something else. Looking up slowly, he saw a groggy Kendall, the sheen of green eyes barely seen from the only light source of the room. His blond hair was dishelved, and his half-lidded eyes blinked almost grudgingly as his gaze bored into the brunette. The silence was brief but to him, it was as though time had stopped its tracks.

"You should sleep now," the blond eventually said, his voice hoarse and sleep induced. Logan pursed his lips into a thin line and looked down from his position, pushing his hand away.

"I have to finish my work," he whispered, for a reason he did not know. He heard his bandmate sigh and a depress on the back of his chair, and he felt his presence closer to him. He looked up, Kendall now stretched over Logan, looking at the momentarily blinding screen of his laptop. His eyes rolled along to the words on the screen and a few seconds later, he pulled back, and the look he gave the brainiac made him cringe.

"Come on. It's good enough already," he said, his voice getting clearer by each use. "We have a long day tomorrow."

"I don't wanna... not yet," he insisted, feeling guilty all of a sudden. He didn't expect Kendall to get up, knowing that he slept like a rock on most days. He didn't want him to know. Not yet.

"Not yet? That work is due next week, Logie. Why are you in a rush?" The teenager pressed on, getting closer to the brunette. "Are you stressed?"

Caught off guard, he stuttered, "N-no, I'm not, Kendall," and he looked away, trying to focus on the screen and not on his best friend.

"Then what? Don't tell me you're okay, you're not," Kendall said, his tone getting harsher than intended. Logan cringed. Having known the blond for almost all his life, he knew when the brunette would work more than he should, even though he was dedicated academically.

"I'm not telling you," he said before he could stop himself. He could feel Kendall's eyes burning into his head, finding its way into his very core of his soul. It seemed to go on for a long time until he walked over to his side of his bed.

"Fine, just stop now, okay? You don't have to tell me."

Logan heaved a sigh. He knew from the countless arguments he had with the blond leader that he was stubborn and would not back down. He saved his work, and stood up, his back muscles tense and aching. Moving towards his bed and slowly lying down, he calmed and almost happily sighed at the welcoming comfort of the cushions. His ears perked up at a soft chuckle, and the brainiac realised he had sighed too loud.

"G'night, Logan," he breathed, evident that the blond was ready to sleep.

"Good night, Kendall," he paused and bit his lower lip, waiting for the blond to eventually even out his breathing and go back to the sleep he needed. His mind replayed the day's events, and the one part he never told anyone, not even his best friends, replayed like a broken record. Heartstrings were plucked, weight was put on his shoulders and he bit his lower lip harder, trying not to let them flow out.

"I'm sorry, but your father cannot speak to you right now."

It had been going on since he was 5, the businessman going on trips every few months or so, only to come back for a few days and go again. The negligence of the Mitchell's only child accumulated from that point when young Logan wanted to show his father his first A.

"Daddy! Daddy! Dad! Dad! I wanna show you somethings," Logan said happily, looking up at the back of the big chair, at the back of his father's head. He didn't turn to his attention, and the rapping at keys continued.

"Daaad! I got an A! An A in English!" he continued, trotting around the elder Mitchell. "I know the alphabet and I know how to count up to 400!" he giggled, jumping so as to get his attention. He did not notice the continued lack of response from the elder and he held the edge of the table with his little fingers, determined to get his father's attention. "Dad? Dad -"

"Will you keep quiet! I'm trying to work!" his father snapped, the first words of the day ringing in Logan's ears. It was so loud that it hurt. Tears he knew were swimming in his eyes, and little Logan ran to his room, crying, attracting the attention of his mother.

It had been the same ever since. In spite of his mother's consistent reminders that his father just did not know how to express his love for the boy, Logan was completely convinced that there was something wrong with the himself and thus sought out to improve himself, academically and physically. As the typically shy and awkward boy noticed the slow and steady change of his body and knowledge throughout the years, it still didn't cut out for his father's attention. The closest he got was a nod.

Now, the brunette felt guilty for trying to push his friend away when the work he was doing was far away from the deadline. The scene of being rejected by his father went through the nerd's eyes and he had never wanted to push his friend away, he had never wanted to make him feel bad for disturbing him, though the thought may have been far in the blond's mind. Of all days, this was his breaking point, due to the accumulation of ignorance and Logan could not comprehend as to how his dad can't give him the affection he rightfully deserved as a child.

His breathing grew ragged by every second, and Logan turned his head onto his pillow, muffling his whimpers. He had hoped Kendall hadn't heard it, he prayed that he wasn't loud and he sniffled, feeling the wetness on his cheeks and around his eyes, the cotton material getting damp from his tears. He let out a staggered breath, breathing through his mouth as he sniffled.

"You idiot."

Logan couldn't care, he couldn't register the fact that Kendall had caught him crying and that he heard his friend moving over to his side. He felt the depress on the edge of his bed, and the arm of the captain hockey player gripped the brunette's shoulder, pulling him up and into his embrace, strong arms holding him tight against him.

Since then the cries had gotten loud and desperate, Logan no longer having the heart to quiet himself. His hands were on Kendall's shoulders, his arms bound by the blond's hug and his head tucked under Kendall's chin, in the crook of his neck. The emotional outburst had taken the leader by surprise, suddenly feeling angry at the braniac's father for neglecting him and at Logan for not telling him sooner. He knew from the many visits to the Mitchell household that the atmosphere was quiet and a little cold, along with the absence of a father figure. It was later confirmed when Logan told him about it, in the privacy of the then ten-year-old's room. It didn't surprise him though, that Logan would keep the continued hurt from them. The way the brunette's mind worked was nothing foreign to him. As much as the blond was concerned, Logan was hurt for a long time.

He knew that in his system, he would not take it lying down.

Logan wailed, almost like he was in great physical pain and the sudden burst made Kendall want to cry too. He just held him tighter, cradling the brunette's head and whispering things like "It's okay,", "You'll be okay, I promise," and "Please stop crying,". Eventually his bawls reduced to shaken hiccups and the occasional sniffle, and Logan just stayed in Kendall's embrace, suddenly hit with tiredness. His eyelids became heavy with fatigue, and his hands slowly started to slacken, so he pushed himself off of Kendall gently, sniffling a bit. The leader looked at the downcast expression etched on Logan's tear-stained face, and he instinctively wiped his tears away with the back of his knuckle. The brunette looked up at him, that even through the darkness of the room, Kendall could feel his brown and wide orbs burning into his head.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered, the timid breath almost inaudible to Kendall. The blond realised that the brunette did not move a muscle, and his eyes were full of conflicting emotions. Regret, hurt, sadness, desperation, and self-hate.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, his tone soft and gentle, almost vulnerable. "It's not your fault, Logie." He put his hand on his bandmate's shoulder for emphasis, but he gently pushed it away, a slight ache coming up to Kendall's chest.

Logan shook his head vigorously, lips quivering. "I-I've been so weak, and I never wanted to let you see this, to see me like this, I-I'm so..." he trailed off, settling for looking down and focus on the sheets of his bed instead.

"You're not weak, Logie. Look, let's just sleep, okay?" Kendall said, soft smile playing on his lips when Logan gave him a tiny smile. As the blond proceeded to stand, he felt a tug on his shirt.

"Can we... sleep beside each other?" It was said in such a small and timid voice, and the moment it went over to Kendall's ears he knew that he had to. It was kind of like when they were 8 Logan always went over to his house whenever there was a thunderstorm and both his parents were out to work. Kendall would protect him and Logan would feel safe.

"Alright," he said, and the two boys settled on Logan's bed, the sides creaking a little with their combined weight. Logan was lying on his side, biting his lower lip, his arms in front of him facing Kendall who was doing the same thing with the exception of the constant lip-biting Logan took with him since young. He waited for the brunette to start falling asleep, and smiled as he saw a little smile of appreciation on his lips. Before he knew it, he was drifting to sleep as well. The last words were almost like a dream, a faint whisper as he fell into the arms of the night, into deep slumber.

"Thank you..."