Hello! This story contains bondage and kidnap which I feel required to warn you beforehand, as well as Logan Mitchell going bat crap crazy. Because I see him as building up all these weird thoughts and anger and stress inside of him, and who better to take it out on than one of his best friends? With benefits.

By the way, I feed off your reviews. :)

xoxo, JT.

Logan shifted in his seat. He had been staring blankly at his laptop for the past hour, trying to do research on DNA recombination or something for his biology homework, but he just couldn't concentrate. He sighed, realizing as he reached the end of a very long paragraph that he hadn't retained any information from whatever he just read. He scrolled back to the top of the page and began reading again, fingers fidgeting in his lap. He shifted some more, exhaled deeply, warm breath coming out slightly shaky.

By the time he reached the end of the page again ten minutes later, Logan Mitchell came to a scary conclusion. He just couldn't focus.

He slammed his laptop shut and pushed it as far away as he could from him without it falling off the counter. Spinning around in his rolling chair, he got up, plopped down on the couch and reached in his pocket for his phone. He was greeted by Camille's glowing face, hair much messier than usual, eyes closed, lips pulled up in an open, genuine smile that spread across her entire face. Logan thought he could hear her loud laugh in his head as he remembered her scent, her warmth beneath him as he poked at her side, making her squirm. "Logan, stop tickling me!," She had yelped as his wiggling fingers made their way up her side. He threw his phone on the other end of the couch before pulling himself up, swearing under his breath as he realized that the other three had gone to the theatre with Kendall half an hour ago to take his mind off his breakup with Jo, currently fast asleep in New Zealand.

He mentally slapped himself. He was the one who needed to take his minds off things – there were just too many useless thoughts (mostly of Camille) floating around in his skull for him to concentrate. Why he didn't realize this half an hour ago caused Logan to swear again - louder this time, and to march up the stairs to his room, then storming out of apartment 2J in frustration, jingling of keys to the Big Time Rush Mobile muffled in his front left jeans pocket.

He stood in the elevator, jabbing his thumb angrily at the 'Main Floor' button, then using the base of his palm to beat the 'Door Close' one. He growled as the doors shut slowly, fuming as a cheerful little ding! sounded and the doors opened. Luckily, he didn't pass anyone he knew at the lobby, but did manage to frighten a small girl tugging on the arm of her sister, who was preoccupied flirting with a moderately handsome boy with a dark complexion. Logan shoved the doors open to the parking lot, located the stylish richly Maroon-colored muscle car, climbed in, and slammed the driver's seat door hard on his left knee. He didn't even bother to curse quietly now – being in the privacy of the vehicle only he drove, he brought his fists down on the steering wheel, steam from the anger boiling at the pit of his stomach releasing as toxic words – inaudible with the loud noise of the horn shrieking in front of him.

Brakes screeched as Logan pulled behind a small cinema the four of them often went to for 90's night, a popular event that happened the first Tuesday of every month. Only a week ago, they sat inside, quietly watching The Shawshank Redemption in horror. Logan grabbed the small bottle on the seat beside him and pocketed a small piece of fabric from inside the glove compartment and exited the car.

The Globe Theatre not only showcased old movies, but also had a stage on the main floor for live-entertainment lovers. As luck would have it, that was exactly what the others were going to see. Arriving early was not only one of the rules, but was something they always did to obtain sweet seats. Peering from behind the doors, he saw that the trio were just seating themselves, taking turns to run to the urinals for the customary before-show leak. Logan hid out in the separate washroom building behind the theatre, locking himself in the stall right by the door, and waited. The first familiar pair of shoes he saw was James' new pair of red, gold and black sneakers. Nobody else, especially Logan was allowed to touch it. He didn't even use the urinal – instead, spending all his five minutes standing in front of the mirror. Logan hoped he wasn't winking at the mirror, like he caught him doing one time. He wouldn't be surprised if James had made out with his reflection before. The very brief thought of James going at himself, surrounded by mirrors set up for the sole purpose of James being able to see himself from every angle made Logan shift uncomfortably.

The second pair of shoes belonged to Carlos. He walked in, peed for so long that Logan thought he was bleeding out, then played with the squeaking of his shoes on the wet floor until luckily for Logan, an unfamiliar pair of shoes walked in, saving the brunette from almost bursting out of the stall in an impatient outrage. Carlos shuffled out in a slight hurry, shoes still wet and squealing with every step he took.

It was a while before Kendall strode in. By then, Logan had bashed his head against the wall, kicked the side of the porcelain so hard that his right foot ached and pounded, finally seating himself on the toilet with his pants still on, fingers twisting around his hair and pulling it out of his scalp in frustration as he nursed his foot. He couldn't even think straight or realize that this was a terrible idea. He couldn't focus on really, anything – he just knew he had to find a release.

A grey pair of Vans walked in. Logan heard the release, then the sound of metal teeth clicking as Kendall zipped his fly back up. Peering under the stalls, a small, weak 'don't do it' thought passed through Logan's mind, but he barely noticed. Isn't this the kid that told him to take risks? With nobody else in the washroom but the two of them, Logan waited until the blonde was finished his brief look in the mirror, then followed him out the door. In the brief seconds of Kendall's glance at himself, Logan had managed to pull out the small rag from his back pocket and to soak it with the liquid from the bottle.

Logan threw the bottle into the trash before following Kendall out the door. Dripping rag in hand, he crept up behind the blonde, running silently the last few yards and jumping him, right hand covering his eyes, left hand stuffing the cold, wet, sweet-smelling chloroform-soaked cloth in his face. Kendall staggered. He fought back – he really did. And it might have worked, had it not been Logan, who knew his moves all too well. His arms tried ripping Logan's hands off his face, his legs spun, in an attempt to fling his attacker off his back. He twisted his body in nearly impossible ways, trying to get Logan to falter and to escape. He put up the fight for a good well-fought twenty seconds before dropping backward into Logan's ready arms.

Logan took the back janitorial elevators up to apartment 2J after safely parking the Pontiac GTO in its original spot. He half dragged-half carried the blindfolded taller boy, whose heels he just couldn't keep from dragging on the tacky carpeted hallway floor.

The drive back was a haze for Logan. He had thrown Kendall into the backseat of the car, effectively knocking him out in the process but still slipping a mostly dissolved pill under his tongue. He blindfolded his friend, tied his wrists against his backside with Katie's striped scarf. He texted James on Kendall's phone, nearly forgetting the four-digit passcode, saying that he was safe and that they go home without him. He apologized for the liver damage from the chloroform. He promised never to do that again. He straddled unconscious Kendall between his legs, erection growing rapidly but decided against it and climbed into the driver's seat, driving home in pain, constantly squirming and trying to get more comfortable.

Logan somehow got him up the apartment stairs. He thought if he had gotten this far, he could go the final stretch. He didn't turn on the lights in their shared bedroom, instead drawing the dark curtains shut, then closing and locking the door, all light gone except for the blinking digital clock on the stand. Logan worked quickly. He untied Kendall's arms and stretched them out on the headboard, binding the limp limbs tightly with purple bandanas from James' Bandana Man costume. He re-tied the blindfold, making sure Kendall couldn't wriggle out of it. He shackled his long legs to the bed. Logan paused, looking at his finished work. The blonde was splayed helplessly before him, completely relaxed with his head lolling to the side. He reached up to touch his own neck, undid the blonde's belt, throwing them hard against the wall so that a loud crack echoed in the room, then bent over his friend to pull his jeans down with his thin green boxers.

Kendall blinked and felt his eyelashes brush against something soft. Everything was black. He couldn't tell if it was the cloth or if it was dark wherever he was, too. It's a blindfold, he realized with mounting concern. Blindfolded, and wrists that seemed to be tied with the same soft, cottony material that was around his eyes, leaving his chest wide open and vulnerable. He realized that his shirt was off from his upper arm barely brushing at the skin on his side. His legs, bent at the knees and his ankles were restrained by something heavy and coldly metallic. Whatever they were, they were digging painfully into his skin.

But suddenly, none of that seemed to matter. Not the sharp pain in his lower leg, not the terror and darkness and how awfully exposed and vulnerable he felt. None of that mattered the moment he felt something wet and humanly warm slide down over the bare head of his cock, feeling his foreskin pulled back with a smooth, irregular jerking motion. As quickly as it came, the terror he felt melted into his veins, pulsing the heat into his groin, his body flooding with warm, delicious endorphins.

"What the-?" He managed to breathe, nearly choking on his tongue as he felt fingers dig hard into the skin around his hips. There was a tight, swallowing sensation around the length of his dick that left him out of breath and gasping.

For someone he thought didn't have much experience with her dad being so protective of her, Jo was surprisingly good at this. Kendall luxuriated in the sensation of being at her mercy - the long, slow drag of her tongue up his erection, followed by sharp, quick tugs at the root of his dick. She's almost suspiciously good at this.

Almost embarrassingly quickly he was on the edge, the place where he just wants to push on to his sweet release, but then she stops. He remembers that she doesn't like the taste, after all, she did spit their first time. But that doesn't stop her touching him, quick, light strokes, fist occasionally closing around the head so she can smear the fluid around.

But it goes on way too long.

Soon, she had him gasping and writhing helplessly against the restraints, moaning at every feather-light brush of her soft, gentle fingers. She kept him there, on the edge, for long seconds that drag into even longer minutes. She stopped and dragged her finger up his toned abdomen, his chest, then under his chin, which she tilts up. He felt a bead of sweat dripping down from his chin and rolling down his neck, settling in the dip between his collarbones. In the silent seconds to follow, Kendall laid there, unmoving, body tingling everywhere, especially along the line just drawn up his front. Suddenly, there are lips against his – wet, hot lips. He feels the breath first, then they come on so hard against him that he feels them bruising but he returns the kiss, their teeth clicking against each other, taste of blood on his lower lip. He tried moving down from her lips, but she moved back, a salty drop of sweat rolling down her face and onto Kendall's chest. She shoved him back down onto the mattress, moving down from his mouth to his exposed neck, licking, sucking hard, then biting down gently. His back arched up as he groaned, a rough hand pressing down hard against his chest to keep him down. Another bite, this time right on the muscle caused his hips to buck up slightly, but he willed them back down. She latched her lips onto the bump of his jaw, sucking, then at the most unexpected second, bit down hard. And it hurt, a lot. But his back rose up, and this time, she didn't shove him back down.

He felt her moving from beside the bed he was tied upon to straddle him, her hands reaching up to tangle in his blonde locks. She dragged her teeth from one side to the other, biting down hard when she heard Kendall's moan of pleasure to change it to a hiss of pain. He writhed and she bit down, incisors cutting just barely into the skin of his neck, causing him to take in a sharp breath and grunting in pain. The pain in his neck travelled to the ache in his groin and he started to protest. She climbed off his body and he felt a cold draft when the warmth of her disappeared, causing him to inhale sharply again. Suddenly, she reached to twist both his nipples - hard.

"Hey! Okay, you've had your fun baby!" He yelped, trying impotently to twist his body away from her cruel fingers. "Be a good girl and jerk me off already!"

That's when he heard the sharp, angry intake of breath.

"Hang on, who is this? Who are you? Talk to me, you silent bastard!" Kendall demanded, blinking rapidly behind the blindfold. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, echoes of its rapid beat vibrating in his ears.

"Took you long enough to ask, Knight," Logan's voice hissed, unexpectedly close to his ear. He sounded angrily triumphant, a side to him Kendall had seen only once or twice.

"Logan? What the hell? Where's Jo?" Kendall asked, shifting against whatever it is that he was tied to. It felt eerily familiar, and his mind suddenly cleared a bit. It felt exactly like his bed, the texture of his pillow to the material of the sheets below him. He didn't feel the blanket, but he guessed Logan threw them elsewhere. "Logan, let me go right now!" Kendall demanded in a panic. Is this some kind of sick and twisted revenge? He wracked his brain for bets he didn't pay back, things he's done that Logan hasn't gotten back at him for, but everything came up blank. "You let me the fuck go or I swear I'll-"

"Jo's in New Zealand," Logan replied calmly, ignoring Kendall's tantrum. "Remember?"

"Camille, you - what about Camille?" Logan's footsteps are muffled in the carpet as he took a couple steps away to be closer to Kendall's groin. Then those tiny, tortuous touches continued and Kendall can almost hear the smug, satisfied smile growing on Logan's face.

"You bastard," Kendall snapped. He should have known all along that this wasn't Jo, not only because he had forgotten she was half way across the globe. This was exactly Logan's kind of game. He knows exactly when to back off, and exactly when to start playing with him again. Logan knows, to the millisecond, when Kendall's body begins to tighten and his orgasm is only a breath away.

Logan's had enough practice, after all. He's an expert at playing with Kendall's body. Trouble was, he gave that up when he started dating Camille. He considered that cheating, and he purposely made Kendall feel terrible whenever they snuck around when he and Jo were dating. There would be no more secret fucking no matter how much Kendall whined and pleaded and waited for Logan to be in the mood.

As if reading his mind, Logan spoke. "Camille... Who even gives a fuck about Camille?" His breath is heavy, and he punches the side of the mattress. "She's a whore, a sex-crazed whore who's slept with half the guys here."

"As if you're not a sex-crazed whore." Logan slapped him across the face, hard, but the blonde didn't make a sound. He was expecting it, and just wanted to rile his friend up. There was a short pause, stuffy sound of slight tension, frustration, and sex filling the air.

"Only for you."

Kendall couldn't help but grin.

"Oh, shut up!" Logan grumbled, beginning to jerk his fist with quick, little movements that bring Kendall to the edge even harder and faster than before.

But no further. Then Logan left him for that all important second, just enough to deny him his orgasm again, while Kendall desperately tried to wriggle free of the restraints he was tied to, to stab his aching erection against something, anything solid while splayed out in front of Logan. Then, when the moment passed, Logan's teasing hand is back with that steady, rough pressure once more.

And Kendall could do nothing except moan and beg for the mercy he knew Logan was never going to give him.

After maybe half an hour or fifteen minutes of Kendall choking on every damn second of it, he felt something change in the way the brunette touched him. They got gradually softer, more gentle, but still with a razor-sharp edge that sent flashes of electricity shooting into his nerve endings. Every touch was tentative – a tiny tugging motion, that didn't stop or pull away as Kendall's moans got louder. His spine arched off the bed, body contorting in ways he never thought possible with movements being so restrained. It felt as if his whole body was taking one long, deep breath, drawing in, shrinking around his throbbing erection. There was a sharp sensation, a point where he couldn't tell the difference between pain and pleasure and finally, finally, Kendall came in a rush, his surroundings blurring and blacking out even with the blindfold on. He felt lips against his again, the weight he could now tell as being Logan's on his body, legs on both sides of him. He felt the pads of Logan's fingers slowly tiptoeing up the length of his arms, freeing his wrists from the headboard. Kendall's hands immediately went down to the hem of Logan's shirt, pulling it above his head in one smooth motion, then twisting his fingers in the brunette's hair, pulling him down toward his chest before reaching behind his head to undo the blindfold. The blonde turned the best he can with his legs restrained and moves from his Logan's lips to his earlobe by dragging his teeth against his jaw line, causing him to inhale sharply and deeply in pleasure. He nipped gently at his ear then moved to the crook of Logan's neck, simple contact that caused the other boy to moan quietly. He tangled his fingers in his dark hair and began to suck at his exposed neck gently nudging Logan's head so he could have more area for his lips and tongue to explore. He found the thick muscle Logan had bit on him earlier and wrapped his lips around it, forming a rapidly purpling bruise. He strayed away from the area but not far, before returning to the swollen skin and biting down gently. Logan pulled Kendall closer, savoring the warm buzzing feeling coursing through his veins as he shifted to lie beside the blonde.

Later, when he could think again and his mouth was dry and his eyes felt gritty, Logan got up to undo the metal around Kendall's ankles. The butt-naked boy that was curled up into the warmth of his side shifted to stretch his legs.

"So if you've broken up with Camille, she's fair game, right?"

Logan looked at him, a certain darkness filling up in his eyes. "Whatever. She's probably gonna come find me the next day and ask for help 'studying,' like she did with Diamond. Fucking Diamond."

"He's a good friend, you know. Also a good kisser." Kendall smirked, turning to face Logan before licking his lips seductively. "He tastes like sex."

"Then maybe next time, I should kidnap the both of you."

A small pause. He knew Logan was kidding; this had been their game - and only their game since the late, stressful nights began when they moved to LA and started sharing a room. "But me and you, Mitchell? We're still gonna hook up, right?"

He wished it didn't make him feel so pathetic and relieved when Logan merely smiled and said, "Sure, of course we are. Why wouldn't we?," Before laying back down beside Kendall and playfully chomping down hard on the deep red bruise under his jaw.