So as most of you know, I'm sort of BTR-ed out and can't seem to get anything done without a request. Although, I haven't watched an episode in FOREVER, so that might have something to do with it. Anyway, three day weekend, so that should get fixed…
But this is a request from xXxIloveApplesxXx and you know… it sounded fun when I originally heard it, but then in typical Cheeky fashion I completely forgot all about it, so…
SORRY!
But I'm writing it now, and that's all that counts!
And babe, btw, I had a BIT of a problem writing this because… I love Ozzy. A lot. So I just kind of… had them do a different project… Same thing, just not a remake of Green Time Rush. Hope that's cool…
Logan sometimes hated being the only nerd in a class of aspiring stars. It generally resulted in a lot of things he wasn't particularly fond of, ranging from having to endure six sets of eyes peeking over his shoulder come every test to never being able to have an intellectual conversation. Ever. But his least favorite was without a doubt occured when they were allowed to pick their own partners.
Really? Logan just wanted to be partners with someone he liked. That shouldn't be too hard, right? Wrong. Because even when there wasn't a big scary guy in the classroom with no commonly accepted list of morals, Logan still had ended up with people he didn't like. The Jennifers had always managed to subdue his friends long enough for one of the evil things to claim him as their own little project workhorse; curse their short attention spans.
Unfortunately, there was a new guy in their pintsized class, and Logan wasn't talking about the giant but friendly Ozzy. No. No. This kid… this kid wasn't even a kid. No. He was a mountain. A mountain. It was like someone had stuck a bike pump into Ozzy and blew him up a couple feet. It was ridiculous.
But whatever. When Logan said he was new, he meant brand new. The kid had only just been introduced to the class yesterday, and even though Logan was a little hurt the older boy had immediately pegged him as a "good project partner" to put it nicely, he wasn't going to judge. He had learned his lesson with Ozzy. Maybe this guy –Brad, was his name?- just needed a little bit of study help and didn't know how to go about getting it, too. Crazier things have happened…. And really? That wasn't such a pyscho idea in the first place.
Kendall shot him a devastated look as class swung back into session, Miss Collins expecting them to get their project done outside of school like usual. Logan just smiled at him, refusing to freak out about anything just yet. Things were going to be fine. Just because people looked evil, and glared at others, and spent their time in class cracking nuts with their bear hands didn't mean…
Crap.
Logan practically jumped out of his skin when Carlos slipped something into his hands stealthily from across the room. He looked down to see a phone stuck in his fist. He arched and eyebrow at Carlos who mouthed "Call us" with his hand held like a phone to his ear. Logan gulped and then jumped again as James passed him something in a similar manner. A bat.
"In case you can't reach us," James whispered below Miss Collins' teaching, and Logan couldn't help but cast a glare at Kendall who looked up at the ceiling innocently. His heart washed over with fear. He was so going to die… He was so going to die.
The rest of class ticked by unbearably slowly. Unfortunately, Logan had already made plans with Brad to work directly after school, so as the minute hand ticked around and around, Logan felt his heartbeat going faster and faster. Not fun, not fun, not fun…
The bell rang, and Logan was pretty sure he had teleported to the door, he was moving so fast, but Brad somehow still managed to snag him by the collar. The all to familiar feeling of being hoisted into the air attacked Logan in the worst way possible as the giant kid quite literally threw him over his shoulder. Funny how this was such a party when it was Freight Train and so terrifying when it was basically anyone else. (And yeah, that included Kendall and James. After numerous bad experiences for both parties, Logan and Carlos had decided that they didn't trust the larger half of Big Time Rush not to drop them.)
It wasn't long before Brad had slammed him down on a chair in the lobby and shoved a rather rumpled project packet into his hands. Logan hadn't planned on stereotyping, but one grunt from the linebacker in front of him had his pen uncapped and flying across the page. He worked fast –he always had, but now especially- and within a couple minutes the packet was complete, never having touched the computer in his backpack. Score one for the genius!
He slammed the blasted thing closed in record time, passed it to Brad, and was about to bolt when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. The possible steroid user pushed him into the chair he had recently been in with a good deal of force and pressed a worksheet up against his chest. Logan leaned back and saw it was the other boy's (man's?) math homework.
And then Logan did something stupid.
"I'm not doing this," he said, sounding a bit whiney, but he let it pass considering he was terrified. Brad didn't even speak, just raised and eyebrow and threw him one of the most intimidating looks Logan had ever seen, which was saying something considering half of the people he had to deal with on a daily basis. He crossed his arms, simultaneously puffing out his chest and pushing out his biceps with his fists a big unconsciously. He was going to die. "This is your homework. Not ours. I'm not doing."
And admittedly? Logan wouldn't. He had done enough homework that wasn't his when he was stuck in Minnesota. He wasn't going to put up with it anymore. However, the way Brad was smirking at him made him wish that he had decided to put an end to it like… tomorrow or something.
Brad towered over him, arms folded like Logan's but he was pulling off the whole threatening thing a lot better. Logan bit back a whimper. So scary. He was going to die. Like actually, yeah. He was going to die. He was either going to have a heart attack or be brutally murdered. No big deal.
"You're not?" he asked, and Logan didn't even get the chance to change his mind before suddenly Brad was grabbing his wrist so tight, he could feel it cracking like one of the walnuts the boy had been smashing open earlier. Brad nearly tore his arm out of its socket as he made him reach for his pen, not caring about the awkward grip he was forcing Logan to take, and he jerked his arm around. "It's called math. Try it," he ordered, and Logan didn't know what to do as the bigger boy flung his arm around. He couldn't write like this… he couldn't do math like this.
His free hand fumbled for his pocket. Phone, phone, phone. Unfortunately, Brad caught on a bit to early and wrenched it away from him, throwing it out the lobby doors and into the pool from where he stood, then introducing Logan's face to the table top. He smashed his fist down uncomfortably close to Logan's head. "That wasn't math," he growled, and Logan didn't know what this guy's problem was.
Regardless, he numbly started scribbling answers down on the page. Random numbers. He knew what he was doing, but he had will, so he wasn't going to use that knowledge. That would be stupid. At least… that's what he tried to tell himself, but Brad's hot breath down the back of his neck was making all things impossible. Why wouldn't he just let him go? Gah, just let him go!
The giant still had a ridiculously tight grip on his wrist, and Logan could see the bruise leaking out the sides of his grasp. That was going to look horrible. His skull felt like it was about to break open, probably because Brad's other hand was clamping it down hard to the table still. He was totally going to have a massive headache.
His fingers twitched due to the pain, and the next answer didn't come out fast enough for Brad's liking. Logan definitely wasn't expecting sudden, violent leave of Brad's hands or the delivered kick to the side. He nearly fell out of the chair, his vision swimming from his head being so pressed. A couple girls were looking at them from across the room, frowns evident on their faces. Gah, why weren't they helping? Why wouldn't someone save him? At least… at least someone call a morgue. Let them know he'd be coming.
He managed to fill in the last couple blanks, somehow actually factoring the equations set before them because if that's what he got for pausing, Logan would rather not get an answer wrong. Brad seemed satisfied and bored, oddly, despite the rush of power Logan was sure the other boy was experiencing. He left without a word, merely grabbing his bag and his homework, not exiting the lobby until sending another kick to Logan's side that actually sent him to the floor.
What did he do now?
Logan stood up and gathered his things, shoving them into his bag sloppily and making his way to the elevator, trying to ignore the weird looks the girls from before were giving them. He gave them a wave he hope sarcastically said, "thanks for the help!" and made for 2J. He just wanted home and a hug.
Home and a hug.
Awesome. Hope that was cool. Logan whump is always a party, even if it's getting a tidge mundane to me. (So. Many. Stories. All. The. Same. Thing.) However, it's comfy. Like an old sweater. I'll never give it away, but I'm also not wearing it in public.
I doubt I'm making sense…
Also, btw, I LOVED writing in this sort of… more sarcastic tone. Go Logan! I LOVE HIM FOR ALLOWING ME THIS!