As he swung the door closed behind him, he moved his hands to the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it up his torso and over his head. It fell to the ground with a soft thud; dampened with sweat.
He moved further into the small hotel room and began unbuckling the button of his pants, letting them slide down his legs and join his shirt on the ground. He sighed, once freed from the sticking and sweaty clothes, stumbling in nothing but his boxers, over to the twin bed and flopping down onto the mattress.
He listened to his breathing, the shallow in and out movement of oxygen from his lungs to the air and back again. The single light in the room coming from the window; curtains drawn back and the setting sun glimmering into the small room.
Usually they were afforded much more luxurious places to stay and recuperate, but just being there for the night as their tour bus got a tune up, it would suffice for them. In fact, Logan found this little place swell, small, dark and cozy; he didn't need anything more than a comfy mattress to lay his head.
He heaved a deep sigh and sat up, muscles protesting as he planted his feet firmly onto the beige carpeted floor and stood. He let his feet carry him to the little bathroom, squished in between the door and the back end of his closet. There was a plain white sink, a toilet, and bath-slash-shower with a curtain advertising the hotel name.
Grabbing a towel from the metal rack above the toilet, he set in on the hook outside the shower and stepped inside, bending down to turn on the faucet and adjust the temperature. Once satisfied he switched on the removable shower head and started cleansing his body.
He unraveled the packaged soap from its labelling and drew it across his chest and stomach, the water following to wash away the white streak of soap. When feeling completely lathered and washed he takes the complimentary shampoo and dumps it all into his hair.
As he blends and weaves his fingers throughout his dark locks, his mind wanders. Flashing back to the concert just earlier that night, the fans, the crowd, the noise, he can feel his pulse racing, breathing catching, as he stops himself from heaving right on stage. The butterflies in his stomach jumping, colliding in the pit of his gut, shouting at him to stop, stop dancing, stop singing and stop lying to himself. Until the stage spins, the crowd of fans become a blur of colour and blinking lights, the hard press of the cool stage meeting his temple, before all goes black.
A knock at the door pulls him from the memory and he gasps, slowly turning into a soft pant as he reaches for the shower handle and shuts the water off. He grabs the towel from hook and wraps it around his body before pushing the curtain back and stepping out of the tub. He walks out of the bathroom and to the door, drops of water falling to the carpet sounding like his dampened clothes hitting the floor. He squints to see through the peep hole and pulls back abruptly when he meets Kendall's soft smile. Forcing down the blush from his cheeks, he grooms himself quickly and pulls open the door.
Kendall steps through, his thin but broad frame taking up all the more room, and he suddenly feels a little more cramped and a little less comfortable in his perfect little hide-away of the night. But arms suddenly come around his waist and he's pressed to Kendall chest.
"Feeling better?" The blond murmurs into his hair. He presses gently against the blonds' chest, pushing back enough so as they're not flush against each other, and he can just see up over the blonds' chin to his large nose. He kisses the tip of it.
"Fine." He says softly, "so fine, I am just ready for bed." Kendall squeezes him tighter.
"We can't avoid this forever Logan," one hand slinks up to the brunet's cheek, and Kendall cups it, pulling him up for a kiss. "Tell me what I can do," he murmurs into the others mouth.
Again Logan pulls back slightly, but not until the blond pulls back from the kiss so he can catch sight of those light green eyes. He sighs, "it's not 'we' Kendall, it's me, my problem."
Somewhere the air conditioner kicks on and Logan pulls back, "let me get changed okay?" Kendall doesn't answer, just pulls back the rest of the way and takes a seat on the edge of the twin bed. "These places are pretty dank, huh?"
"It's not so bad" Logan disagrees. He comes back out dressed in clothes he'd taken back into the bathroom with him. A plain white t-shirt and a regular pair of basketball shorts. Kendall smiles, "much less fancier than usual huh?"
Logan shrugs and stands in front the blond, "I don't have much choice." Kendall frowns at his words, hands going to clutch his hips, "tell me what I can do" he repeats.
Logan's hands land atop his, "nothing, just be Kendall, and I'll be fine."
"You're not fine though."
"Well under circumstances, I'm about as good as I can get right now."
Kendall pulls Logan forward, the brunet relents, falling into the blonds' arms.
"You could be, be you, if you really wanted to." Logan scoffs.
"And risk not only my future, but the future of this band? The TV show? There's an entire crew of people that depend on us Kendall, for work and for their families. I can't put my personal desires ahead of their livelihoods."
Kendall kisses his collarbone, "you're too kind."
Logan shudders, "maybe in a different time or place, or years from now when nobody cares about who I am anymore." Kendall squeezes his waist in a way to tell him to shut up.
"You think you can live your life unhappy like this? Logan that's unfair to you." The brunet laughs sardonically, burying his face into Kendall's shoulder. Kendall kisses his ear.
"Your hair is still wet Baby." Logan ignores him.
"I think I thought moving out here would somehow push those thoughts and feelings away. Like I'd be able to live normally, suffocate myself into my career and forget all of it."
One large hand travels up and down the expanse of his back.
"But it's still there."
Kendall pulls him back and looks him in the eye, the light green irises swimming with a level tenderness that Logan could never picture anyone else even coming close to fathoming. Kendall runs one hand down from his hip to the curve of his ass.
"Then how about we buy you at least one more night."