I know, I know, what am I doing writing oneshots when I have a chapter fic to write? But I liked this. I hope you do too!

Kendall sank into himself on the couch, eyes fixated on his hand. The brunette next to him fiddled with his shoes, taking them off as he attempted to calm down after his blow-up.

Logan threw his shoes aside, running his fingers through his air as he let out a deep breath. Kendall looked over at the older , but soon after averting his gaze when the brunette met his eyes. Kendall graduated from his hand to fidgeting with his collar as he anxiously waited for the inevitable shouting match to begin.

But the quiet, disappointed words stung much more.

"We've worked so hard. And you-we-it's all screwed up now."

Kendall's lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to bite back a retort. Taking a calming breath, he reached for his boyfriend's hand, only to have it jerked away from him. His eyebrows furrowed as he searched the face of his lover, face only scrunching more when the paler's face was deadpanned. Logan stared at the ground, leaning forward.

Kendall rubbed the nape of his neck as he waited for Logan to continue. He felt his heart racing, pounding, pounding, pounding. When Logan didn't speak for a minute, Kendall reached towards him again. "What happened?"

Logan head jerked towards the blonde, anger in his eyes. "What. Happened?" He stood up, turning to face Kendall from the front. "Did you read what was spray-painted on the garage? Did you somehow miss all of the hate mail we've gotten? Did you just happen to forget that some kid" – Kendall could hear the venom in his voice as the word 'kid' left through gritted teeth – "called us faggots?" His fists clenched and unclenched as his voice sped up. "Or does none of that matter to you? Does everything they're saying about us just seem like a fucking joke to you?"

Kendall's eyes flitted from the floor, to Logan's eyes, and back to the floor as he mumbled something sounding like "mmgfltch jsfshnim"

Logan grabbed Kendall by the shoulders, shaking him, grip tight. His knuckles were still white from clenching his fists. "What?"

Kendall roughly pushed Logan's arms away, then rubbing his own shoulders, soothing the dull ache. "I said no, it doesn't matter at-fucking-all. And you damn sure shouldn't be blaming this on me."

Logan's mouth opened and closed as a look of anger and mock amusement crossed his face. "So, it totally wasn't your fault that you just assumed there was no one around and fucking kissed me!" He whispered the last two words, as if they were a forbidden curse.

"I didn't know there were photographers around," Kendall insisted.

"Of course there are cameras around! There are always cameras around! The only time we get away from the camera is at home!" Logan threw his hands up in the air, shrieking.

"So then why is it my fault?" Kendall said angrily, voice loudening to match the older's.

"Because you should have waited until we were home." Logan said. Kendall opened his mouth to cut him off, but Logan held up his hand. "You just couldn't wait, and now everyone with a computer or will know that - they'll know about this."

Kendall gaped. "You're treating our relationship like a dirty little secret!"

Logan's eyes locked with Kendall's. "Because until the fans found out, that's what it was." He pushed past Kendall into his room, ignoring the shouts of blonde. Just as he slammed the door shut, it was thrown open again. Logan didn't bother to look up – or even want to look up for that matter. He'd worked his entire damn life but still he'd been told time and again that he'd never make it as a singer, an actor, or anything in between. Plain and simple, he was terrified. He was scared that his one shot at the – excuse the pun – big time was being ripped away from him.

Kendall, now he'd always get more offers. He'd already been offered a solo career in singing, and he could get 10 more in the blink of an eye.

Logan rested his head in his hands, flinching at the touch of the hand on his shoulder. "The label dropped us, Kendall," he said quietly.

"You don't know that-" he began, only to be cut off by Logan again.

"Yes, I do know it Kendall. They called earlier, when you were taking a shower. They want a meeting with us. Today." Kendall opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again at the sight of Logan's lifted hand. "And. I-uh." Logan took a deep breath, centering his thoughts. "We might go into that meeting together, but I'm walking out alone."

"What?" Kendall's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm not risking my career. At the end of the meeting, regardless of what they say, we're done."

"Logan-"

"We're not discussing this, Kendall." He stood up, resting his hands on his wardrobe as he took in calming breaths.

Kendall angrily shot up. "Listen Logan, just because some homophobic-" he struggled for the right word to describe the hateful people, but gave up, deeming it impossible "just because some homophobes say that we shouldn't be together, that what we have is morally wrong, doesn't mean that you have to listen to them."

"No, I don't have to listen to them! I don't listen to them! The label listens to them, the label is the one that holds our careers - or what's left of them."

"They might not drop us, it might turn out a whole lot different than you expect. It will all work out. It will be okay, Logan."

Logan beat his hand against the wardrobe before spinning to face Kendall. "That's just the thing. Sometimes, things go bad, fast. Like they did when you pulled that dick move. I'm tired of-"

"I'm fucking tired of it too! You think I came into our driveway fucking overjoyed to see 'faggots' written across our garage?" Kendall rubbed his temples as he lowered his voice. "You know what, Logan, you make the call. I'm not going to argue about this anymore."

The silence that followed was deafening, but it was better than the sentence that broke it.

"Just-just pack your stuff, please."

As the door slammed shut and rattled against the doorframe, both boys finally crumbled.