Once Upon A Dream
Maybe it was that Logan was just ignorant. He didn't know no one was supposed to get on James' bed but James. He couldn't explain it, but he didn't want to tell Logan to move, despite the rules he'd established for everyone else. Jagan. PG.
a/n: I just want to say again that it's really nice to get favorites on my stories… but it's even so much nicer to get reviews! So please, please, please review my fics, especially if you think they're worth favoriting! It means the world to me! Thanks! Enjoy!
…
When James was four, he saw Sleeping Beauty for the first time and immediately became infuriated that the sleeping princess got these lovely curtains on her bed when she couldn't even enjoy them and he didn't have any. After a week of fit-throwing and maybe a little begging, Mrs. Diamond bought her son a brand new bed—complete with dark blue, lace-edged curtains hung from the tall bedposts sprung from a scrolled headboard and footboard, the whole thing straight out of a storybook.
Even as he got older, well into the throws of third-grade boyhood, James still loved that bed more than he ever loved any toy or pet. He never minded being sent to his room, because then he could get on his bed and draw back the curtains and shut out the rest of the world. He slept in his own little tent of royalty. He could close everyone else out when he preferred to be alone, create a private cave for himself and his toys or games or mirrors and hairbrushes when the outside world was unworthy of his presence. The easy action of pulling his curtains closed was magic, and there wasn't a problem on earth that couldn't be solved—or at least expelled from his mind—by simply shutting himself up on his bed.
When James' parents fought, he would grab the cordless telephone and run to his room. He would close the curtains around himself, plunging his small body into a dark, calm pool of pillows and blankets, a dim, blue light bleeding through the curtains. He'd crawl under the covers, curl up against his pillows and call Kendall. Kendall was good at distracting James, going on and on about hockey or TV shows or school. Or the new kid, Logan.
A lot of people treated Kendall like a golden child, and although James tried to remind himself that Kendall was his best friend and it was wrong to resent your best friend for anything, it was sometimes really hard not to scowl when people started paying more attention to Kendall than to him, even though James was sure that he was cooler and more talented than Kendall in every way. The thing was that Kendall was nice and helpful and even though he had a smart mouth, adults and classmates all seemed to let that slide just because he was nice and helpful. People and life alike always smiled down on Kendall in a much more appreciative way than they did on James. But ever since James had invited the new kid to play tag with them at recess on his first day, Logan hadn't acted like Kendall was any better than James in any way. Logan was small and wore sweaters and glasses and listened to James when he spoke and didn't look at Kendall like he was anything more special than anyone else. James liked that.
"James? Baby? Are you in here?" James sat up in his bed and peaked through the curtains to see his mother at his door.
He whispered into the phone hurriedly, "Hey, hold on a sec," and shoved it under his pillow. He pulled back the curtain, though tugged the covers up to his shoulders to keep warm and watched as his mom came to lean against the night stand. She knew James didn't like anyone else even touching his bed. James even stripped his own sheets when he was told to, preferring to be the one to do it rather than the housekeeper. He was "sort of a touchy little thing," as his dad liked to put it, to which James pursed his lips and crossed his arms,often earning a series of good-natured chuckles from his father. James liked his dad. He didn't like it when his dad fought with his mom, though.
"I'm not a baby, Mom," James protested with a pout and an obstinate tilt of his chin.
Mrs. Diamond gave a melodramatically apologetic look and immediately corrected herself. "Oh, I'm so sorry—my big grown-up boy. How is that?"
James lifted his chin to look down his nose at her, scrutinizingly. "…better."
She smiled for a moment, examining his haughty expression. "I'm sorry about that, James," she finally said in a sigh, though she didn't really sound very sorry. It was more like her mind was still downstairs with her husband duking it out rather than in the calm blueness of her son's very regal bedroom. "Would you like to have a sleepover this weekend?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere, but James knew where it came from. She liked to make things up to James in gifts and allowances, letting him have a small party or take his friends to dinner or to buy a new toy or video game. She loved her son and hugged and kissed him when she had the time, but usually Brooke Diamond was just too busy. The best way she knew to make things easier on James was to let him have his friends around to ease the tension and apprehension.
James shrugged, playing with the comforter in his hands. "Sure, that'd be cool," he said, his mind wandering to the phone under his pillow and wondering if Kendall had heard the plan.
"Alright. Make me a list of what snacks you boys want and I'll pick them up for you," she said with a smile, which James returned as she leaned down, taking his face in her hands, and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you, munchkin." James put his arms around his mom's neck as she hugged him, respectfully careful to not touch the bed. When his mom did find the time to be affectionate, she was pretty good at it.
After she left the room, James dug the phone back out, falling back on his pillows and saying, "Okay, I'm back."
"I love you, munchkiiin," Kendall crooned at him on the other end, and a whole fifteen seconds and full-on laughter followed.
"Shut up, dude!" James bit. "I've totally heard your mom call you 'pussy cat,' and that's way worse."
Kendall snorted, clearly unaffected by the jab. "Whatever. So sleepover this weekend?"
James shrugged. "Yeah, guess so. I'll call Carlos when I hang up with you."
"You should invite Logan," Kendall added.
James considered it, but it only took him a few seconds to decide, really. He liked Logan and pretty much already considered him a friend, so he figured, why not? "Okay. I can do that."
…
"So my mom got us, like, six different kinds of chips and a couple pizzas and a ton of soda and said if we don't eat it all, she's not letting it sit around the house or something, so we have to eat it all," James explained vaguely as he gestured to the coffee table loaded up with food. They were in his finished basement, James' PS2 hooked up to the TV and blankets and pillows piled across the two couches. Between the food, video games, and stereo James currently had bopping kitchy pop music, it was the perfect sleepover setup.
Carlos tapped his helmet twice in response to James instructions. "Don't worry, dude," he assured him as he grabbed a bag of Doritos and tore it open with a pop. "I'm on it."
Kendall put his hands on his knees, elbows turned out, and faced Logan, who had been sitting quietly and politely on the couch with his backpack held in his lap. "Logan? You want some food?"
Logan shifted a little, opening his mouth wordlessly as he pushed up his glasses. "Oh, uhm, no thanks, that's okay… I didn't know there would be food, so I had dinner before I came over…"
Kendall raised an eyebrow. "You ate already? Haven't you ever been to a sleepover?"
Logan looked as though he were being interrogated, slouching a little and maybe holding his backpack a little tighter. "Uh… no, not, really."
Carlos snorted past a mouthful of Doritos. "'ude. Ih usn't matteh if er ungry. S'bow if ih tase goo." And with that barely-coherent piece of wisdom, he tossed a bag of Funyuns at Logan, who scrambled to catch them as they hit his knees.
"Oh, uh, okay, sure," Logan said, but he still didn't open the bag.
Kendall laughed, all good-natured, and said, "Here, at least have a soda," but as he reached for the cups and a bottle, James felt a surge of power, the need to beat Kendall to the cut, so he snatched at the Dr. Pepper and hurriedly twisted it open to pour Logan a cup.
James hopped up from his place on the floor next to the coffee table and stood to offer the cup to Logan. "Here!"
Logan smiled at James, chuckling a little in clear amusement. "Thanks, James…" he said, and took the cup, sipping from it.
The rest of the night was filled with laughing, video games, more than one soda spill, chip crumbs ground into furniture, a necessary argument between Kendall and James that devolved into a wrestling match (which Kendall won, and unfairly, if you asked James), and most importantly, Logan really loosening up. He eventually set his backpack aside and got on the floor with the other boys and ate even though he wasn't hungry. It was well past midnight when he took off his glasses and started rubbing his eyes.
"Aww, what's wrong, Logan, ya tired?" Kendall teased in a mocking voice, James and Carlos snickering along with him as they finished off another bag of chips, Carlos shaking the remaining crumbs from the bottom of the bag directly into his mouth.
Logan frowned and pushed Kendall's shoulder. "Shush up," he said, which immediately made James snort, because who said 'shush up?' "My bedtime's usually nine… Why hasn't your mom come down to tell us to go to bed yet?" he asked James, settling his glasses back on his nose carefully. James could see his eyes were getting red and puffy with sleep, but everyone knew, surely even inexperienced Logan, that it was shameful to be the first person to fall asleep at a sleepover.
"'Cause it's my sleepover," he answered simply.
"Yeah, but we're nine," Logan continued. "Our parents are supposed to tell us what to do."
James was quiet for a few moments before he shrugged. "Mine don't."
For a few more seconds it was weirdly silent for the first time in hours, and they were long seconds, too, until Kendall finally grabbed a PS2 controller. "Hey! Let's play some more video games!" he announced loudly, tossing the other controller to Logan. "Logan, play with me."
Maybe James hated how Kendall stole the spotlight so often, but he had to love Kendall for always fixing things, filling the awkward silences and getting everyone back on track.
After another couple hours, Carlos was the first to sack out, but Kendall was so close behind that it hardly mattered. Carlos had fallen asleep on the couch with his head in Kendall's lap and although he'd fought it, Kendall eventually allowed himself to topple over and curl up, leaving Carlos resting against his legs.
When Logan was balled up like a kitten, swimming in a blanket at the end of the other couch, James quietly shut off the television, dimmed the basement lights, and snuck up to his bedroom.
…
Logan was still awake when James shut off the lights. Even with his glasses off, he could see well enough to know James had left the basement and gone upstairs. When he didn't come back after a few minutes, Logan squirmed a little, trying to wrap the blanket he'd been given closer around him, but he couldn't stop wondering where James had gone. He liked James. James was loud and boisterous and exciting, but he was nice and had been the first person to include Logan at school, or to invite him over to his house like this. And after meeting James' mother earlier in the night, Logan was sure James hadn't invited him over because she made him or anything. Not that she wasn't a perfectly lovely woman, but she definitely didn't seem like that sort of mother, not like Logan's.
Besides wondering if James was okay, Logan realized how badly he needed to go to the bathroom. Not having visited one all night, his poor little bladder was completely full and he had no clue where the facilities were located.
So he slipped off the couch and wandered up the stairs in search of a restroom.
….
James sat on his bed, wide awake, and fiddled with his blanket, wondering what there was to do to make himself tired. His Playstation was in the basement, so he couldn't just play games until he felt sleepy. And reading was entirely out of the question, James hated reading. He could turn on his TV, but he didn't want the noise to wake up his parents.
In the midst of considering how best to entertain himself, James noticed movement in the hallway past his open door. He slipped off the bed and peaked around the door frame, his heartbeat picking up just a little as he silently hoped it wasn't some hideous monster. He felt himself calm, though, as he made out in the shadows a shape of small stature taking careful baby steps down the hallway. "Logan?" he whispered, and Logan jumped and spun around, reaching his hands in front of him as if he were going to catch something in the air.
"Oh… James. Sorry… I was looking for the bathroom," Logan whispered back, gesturing along the hallway.
James frowned, because Logan had made it up to the second floor from the basement without locating either of the bathrooms on the way, apparently. The kid really had a directional problem without those glasses. James hoped Logan would outgrow his eyesight problems. His glasses were cute enough, but James had noticed earlier that Logan had pretty, dark brown eyes that his glasses really masked. Not to mention that Logan could probably benefit from developing better eyesight if he had this much problem finding a bathroom. "It's that way, first door on the left," he explained, pointing down the hall in the direction Logan had come.
Logan sighed with relief, bouncing a little on his feet before scampering off that way. "Thanks!" he said all hushed as he passed James, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, a streak of light coming from under it as it clicked closed.
James retreated back to his bed and fell on it. He still wasn't tired and he wondered for a minute if Logan would want to stay upstairs and talk to him for a little bit until he felt sleepy. He'd never been alone with Logan before. They hadn't known each other really that long and the longest they'd really ever spent together outside of school was this evening in James' basement with the other boys. Which, actually, had been rather eye-opening in terms of what kind of boy Logan was, after he'd crawled out of his knitted argyle shell. James had learned that Logan was good at math, had moved to Minnesota because of his mother's job, he didn't know what hockey was (this was quickly rectified by Kendall and a crash course through NHL 2002), and didn't care at all about cosmetics and hair care products. All in all, James liked Logan enough, but he wasn't sure how good of friends they were going to be. They just didn't have much in common, to be honest.
"Is this your room?" James sat up to see Logan standing in his doorway, gazing around his bedroom with a curious, squinting eye. He seemed to be looking intently at James' barely-touched but packed-full bookshelf, but James couldn't be sure through the darkness. Even disregarding the storybook bed, James had the bedroom of a true prince, completely decked out by his overly guilty parents. They didn't know how else to save a child from an impending divorce than to give him a sanctuary of his own to use at his discretion. So they filled the blue walls with shelves of toys and framed posters and paintings and stacks of CDs. And then, of course, there were the books that more often than not went untouched. James would more than willingly sit and listen to his mother read from one of them to him, but things like that just didn't happen in the Diamond household and hadn't for awhile.
"Yeah," James replied, pulling his legs up to sit Indian style on the comforter.
Logan nodded a little as he observed, taking in what details he could in the darkness. He wandered in uninvited and James' defenses began to build, and they heightened extraordinarily when Logan touched one of the bedposts. "I like your bed," he said, looking up the curtains.
"…thanks." James watched Logan warily, keeping a close tab on the way he inspected James' bed.
Logan looked at James then, squinting through the darkness, and James had expected his eyes to look so much smaller without his glasses to magnify them, but they were still so round and brown. James wondered how they worked so bad when they were so big. "Are you sleeping up here and not downstairs?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. I always do."
"Why?"
"Because my bed is awesome. If I'm at my house, why wouldn't I sleep in it?" James reasoned simply.
Logan seemed to think it over, his eyes wandering across the bed again, over the soft, fluffy comforters and long, satiny curtains attached to carved bedposts. "Oh… that's a good point, I guess."
"I know," James said and stared hard at Logan, aware of every movement. After a second, Logan slowed in trailing his hand down the bedpost and looked at James out of the corner of his eye. Even without his glasses, he seemed to see the scrutiny in James' gaze and just turned back to him, dropping his hand altogether and looking down sheepishly. James wiggled a little where he was sitting, but he tried not to look like he actually felt bad for staring Logan down and making him stop. This was his bed, after all; no matter how he liked Logan and wanted to be good friends with him, people just weren't supposed to touch his bed.
The silence dragged on until finally Logan kicked his feet at the carpet and looked up again. "Uhm… well, thanks for showing me where the bathroom was. I can't really see around without my glasses, especially in the dark, so…"
"Do you wanna stay up here and hang out for a bit?" James interrupted, pretty sure Logan was gearing up to say good night and go back to the basement.
Logan paused for a moment, thrown off guard by the question, but he soon shrugged and crawled onto the foot of James' bed with a quiet, "Sure, I guess." Alarm bells immediately sounded like breached security in James' head and he very nearly lurched forward and pushed Logan right off his bed out of habit. But he didn't. He couldn't quite be sure why, but he just didn't. If it had been Kendall or Carlos, his two closest friends in the world, they would be on the ground and possibly would have a black eye for getting on James' bed like that. Maybe it was that Logan was just ignorant. He didn't know no one was supposed to get on James' bed but James. Maybe the prince was taking mercy on an unknowing peasant and that was why he didn't throw a fit. But then why wasn't he even politely telling Logan he needed to get off? Why was he allowing him to stay sitting there? James couldn't explain it, but he didn't want to tell Logan to move, despite the rules he'd established for everyone else.
Logan suddenly coughed and James realized that he'd asked Logan to stay and hang out and then had fallen silent contemplating all the reasons he could possibly have for not shoving Logan right onto the floor. "Uhm…" Logan started finally, holding his ankles and rocking slightly. "So your parents don't tell you when to go to bed?" he asked curiously.
James forgot about his issue with Logan being on his bed and shrugged, flopping back against his pillows. "My mom sometimes says stuff like 'In bed by nine,' but she doesn't make me," he explained. "On school nights I usually fall asleep around then anyway because I'm sleepy. But on the weekends, sometimes I stay up til midnight. Or later."
Logan's eyes widened a little, his eyebrows raising. "Wow… that's late… Every weekend?" James nodded in response, tilting his chin to look at Logan. He liked how impressed Logan seemed to be with him. He'd forgotten what it was like for someone to find him amazing and it made him smile. "What do you even do?" Logan asked, leaning forward curiously.
James waved a hand nonchalantly. "Play video games, talk to Kendall and Carlos on the phone, watch late-night TV… I like TV Land."
"Oh! Me, too! I like Gilligan's Island," Logan said excitedly, bouncing a little until James gave a tight-lipped look at the way his mattress shifted and he stopped, shrinking some.
James sat up, smoothing out his comforter haughtily. Logan didn't seem to understand what a privilege it was to sit upon James' bed and needed to stop taking it for granted. "I like Three's Company," he said finally.
Logan dipped his head a little and said, "My mom doesn't want me watching that… she says it's suggestive…"
James just shrugged. "My mom doesn't care what I watch."
Logan didn't respond for a second, maybe because he was trying to figure out if James was lying or not. "…really?"
"My mom is super busy because she's the boss of her company. So she doesn't pay a lot of attention," James explained breezily. "She just buys me stuff."
"Oh. What about your dad?" Logan asked.
"Well, when he's home, he sort of just fights with my mom. And when he talks to me, he just jokes and stuff," James said, looking at his feet and shrugging. "I think they might be too busy paying attention to each other to care what I watch on TV and stuff."
Logan just sort of watched James for awhile, not saying anything, at least until James looked up from his feet and raised an eyebrow at Logan, wondering why he'd stopped talking so suddenly. He'd been so babbly earlier that it was unnerving to hear him shut up. When James looked at him, though, he stirred a little and asked, "Doesn't that make you sad? That they don't pay attention?"
James thought for a moment. No one had asked him that before. "…yeah. Sometimes," he said quietly, looking away from Logan. Usually, he just pretended it was whatever. He shrugged, though. "But I just kinda… you know, go with it. 'Cause it'll only upset my mom if I tell her. They haven't really said it, but they're getting divorced. Things are hard enough for her, I don't want to make them harder." He shrugged, not knowing what else to do. Because no one had asked, he'd never told anyone. So Logan wanting to know, caring enough to ask, was sort of a new feeling. Not that he wasn't sure other people cared, but maybe they just didn't think to ask.
Logan didn't say anything at first, maybe he was waiting for James to continue, but he finally just said simply, "I'm sorry," and James felt his stomach do something light and weird.
"But 'cause of it, pretty much I do what I want and I get what I want," James explained with an air of spoiled lightness as he perked up, shaking off that mood with a sense professionalism. Because it was true. All things considered, he had things pretty easy. Then he chuckled quietly, mostly to himself. "It makes Kendall crazy…" he added, thinking of the look on Kendall's face every time James got away with something both of them knew he shouldn't have.
Logan laughed, too, but it was forced and awkward. "Oh…" he said, and it seemed like it was because he couldn't think of something else appropriate. James just lounged back, smiling smugly at the thought of Kendall's face every time James had gotten a new toy or a gold star in class or got to be the first one to take a shot in a shootout at hockey. James didn't hate Kendall. Far from it. But sometimes it was just too sweet to win over him.
"Is that why you have an awesome bed?" Logan asked, and James looked at him again to see him running his hands across the drawn-aside curtains. He watched for a second, but actually decided Logan could go ahead and touch if he wanted and he laid back again.
"Yup," he answered simply. "I wanted it, so I got it."
"Wow," Logan said with an edge of quiet disbelief, either at James' statement or his haughty tone. Then he said, "It's sort of like a princess bed, isn't it? Like in movies," and James sat up quickly with a scowl.
"I'm not a princess!" he bit immediately, throwing his hands down on the comforter with a soft poumf sound. He'd endured too many years of Kendall calling him a princess to have to hear that from his new friend that he trusted enough to let him sit on his bed, too. No, Logan had to be nice, he couldn't tease him like Kendall. That wasn't fair, two Kendall's wasn't fair. James needed Logan to be nice.
Logan's eyes widened a little and he sat with his mouth open, unsure of what to say, and just sort of moved his lips wordlessly until he said, "Uhm… okay. Okay, I know you aren't… I just mean your bed is like the ones princesses have in Disney movies and stuff…"
"But I'm not a girl, okay? I'm not a princess!" James said like a demand, pointing at Logan to ensure that his point got through. Logan just sort of blinked and frowned.
Finally, he said confusedly, "Yeah, okay, you aren't."
"And it isn't a princess bed."
"Okay, it isn't."
"Good." James then pulled up the blankets and wiggled under, making himself comfortable. Not that Logan was boring or anything, but sitting in the dark talking to him had done the trick and James was pretty sure he could sleep now. He heard Logan sort of whisper "…oh," and begin to slip off the bed awkwardly, so he frowned and pushed up on his elbow. "Hey," he said, stopping Logan as he slid off the bed, landing softly on his feet, and the other boy turned, his hands together in front of him, eyebrows raised curiously. "You can sleep up here if you want," James offered casually with a shrug.
Even in the barely-there moonlight and shadows cast on him from the curtains on James' bed, James could see Logan raise his eyebrows and eye the bed. There was plenty of room. It was a queen-sized bed, actually. In fact, all four of the boys at this slumber party, small as they were, could have easily fit in James' bed if he were to let them.
But no one else had ever been allowed to sleep in James' bed besides James. He was extending a very special ofer to Logan and Logan didn't even know it as he shrugged and said, "Okay…" before clambering back onto the bed and under the covers. James watched him carefully, turning this decision over in his head.
On the one hand, no one had ever been allowed in James' bed before. Not one person. He'd had this bed for five years and he'd been the only person to sleep in it. And the first person he'd allowed to sit upon it, even to share it, was a boy he hardly knew?
But on the other hand, James liked Logan more than he ever remembered liking a person in the first throws of knowing them. He liked Kendall, sure, but their relationship was peppered with arguments and competitions and teasing and James would probably punch Kendall if he so much as came within four feet of James' bed. And of course he liked Carlos, everyone liked Carlos, loved him, even, but even he couldn't touch James' bed, and maybe it was the fact that he never even so much as tried to push that boundary, but James never thought to invite Carlos on it. But Logan? Logan was quiet and confused and awkward and liked James and listened when James spoke—he listened when James talked about his parents. When James would call Kendall while his parents fought, Kendall didn't listen, he spoke, and while James didn't mind that at all (it worked, after all) he found it so nice to be listened to.
So why shouldn't he let Logan on his bed, under the covers? James couldn't see why not. He'd earned it.
He sat up and pulled the curtains shut on his side of the bed so that when the sun came up in a few hours, it wouldn't shine bright in his face, and said, "Night, Logan."
"Yeah," Logan said, pulling the covers up over his shoulders, almost hiding his face under them with his eyes already closed. "Good night, James."
…
Of course James knew he couldn't bring his bed with him when he moved to LA. That would be silly.
That didn't mean he didn't try anyway, but for the record, he did know it wasn't going to work.
But he still wanted that comfort, that bit of familiarity and home. So when Carlos begged for the top bunk in his and James' room, James easily conceded. Because with a little help from Carlos and some extra unused sheets, he had some makeshift curtains rigged around his bottom bunk, encasing his bed in warm shadows and privacy whenever he wanted it. Which, actually, was quite a bit of the time, given how many fits James was prone to throwing. But it was nice to have somewhere to go when Cuda stopped making his favorite scent of manspray or when Kendall pissed him off by cheating at video games or when Katie conned him out of twenty bucks.
It was also nice to have somewhere to hang out with Logan. James had eventually gotten over his complex of having other people on his bed, but the person he was most comfortable with continued to be Logan.
Like he was now, Logan liked to join James in the afternoon on his bed, sitting at the foot with his math textbook and homework open in his lap while James sat on his pillows at the head, combing his hair or playing video games. It had become almost a daily ritual, just the two of them in comfortable silence, a few words and some joking or laughing here and there, but mostly doing their own thing and simply enjoying each other's company.
James sighed and set down his hand mirror, glancing down the bed at Logan, shaded by the sheet-curtains. He had them drawn in a little at the end of the bed to let in enough light in order to do his homework, but muted shadows still fell on his face, softening his features. James had been right to hope Logan would outgrow his glasses. He'd gotten better looking without them. His eyes were prettier when they weren't behind lenses. Actually, all of Logan was kind of prettier now that they'd grown up. He'd been cute as a kid, but… well, he was cuter now. And definitely in a different way, James noticed as he got older. Pretty eyes, a cute smile, hot arms, a really nice butt.
…a really nice butt that was seated atop one of James' pillows.
James frowned, looking from the pillows cushioned around him and noticing now that he was, indeed, missing one. His gaze snapped back up to Logan, sitting there all absorbed happily in his books and James just scowled. He sat forward and grabbed the pillow under Logan, yanking as hard as he could. With a yelp, Logan toppled over, nearly off the end of the bed, but James got his pillow back, shaking it some.
"Dude!" Logan protested, trying to get his papers back into some sort of organized pile. "What the hell!" He looked somewhere between confused and pissed, but James just scrunched his nose at his shock. As if he didn't know.
"Your butt was on my pillow," James accused, holding it out and leaning forward as if to sniff the pillowcase, but threw it down at the last second. "It probably smells like butt now." He crossed his arms, pursing his lips at Logan pointedly. "Worse—Logan butt."
Logan rolled his eyes and set his book back in his lap, groping around until he found his pencil again. "Whatever. If you're so concerned about it, just wash it. Princess…"
There was about half a second of peace before all-out war broke out behind the curtains of James' bed. It began with the butt-pillow being flung right into Logan's head, followed by a flurry of papers thrown in James' direction. James tried tying Logan up with a blanket off his bed while Logan half-heartedly attempted to smother James with his pillow. Hoping it would be a distraction, James kicked Logan's schoolwork onto the ground, but it hardly had an effect as Logan began tickling James' sides, backing him up into the corner at the head of his bed, each of them laughing the whole time.
Suddenly, the door to the bedroom opened and without thinking about it, James immediately put his hand over Logan's mouth to silence him. He was surprised to feel Logan do the same to him and he raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. Logan frowned back with a similarly confused look in his eyes, but neither moved their hands.
"Guys?" James heard Carlos at the door and his eyes flicked to the sheet-curtains around his bed to see if they were drawn enough to hide them. Unless Carlos pulled them aside, he shouldn't have been able to see either of them, he concluded. He looked back to Logan and raised his eyebrows in question, since neither he nor Logan had taken their hands from each other's mouths. But Logan met his gaze with a solid look that clearly said not to move as Carlos continued, "James? Logan? You guys in here?" James felt his heartbeat pick up, wondering if Carlos would come closer and pull aside the sheets to look for them. But after an overwhelmingly long few seconds of silence, Carlos just hit the light switch, plunging them in darkness enhanced by the sheet-curtains, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
James dropped his hand away from Logan's mouth and Logan hesitated a second before doing the same. James was pushed up against the corner of the wall, Logan crawled up right in front of him, and he was so close to James, his face was, at least, that James thought for a second he could feel his breath right on his lips, and he was positive Logan could feel the echo of his heartbeat. His eyes were still adjusting to the darkness as he blinked, barely making out Logan's eyes and mouth. He wasn't really smiling anymore, just sort of staring wide-eyed at James in the dark, probably also trying to get his eyes to adjust.
Suddenly, in a whisper as if they were still hiding out, Logan asked, "Why'd you cover my mouth?"
James shrugged a little. "I wanted to hang out with you alone longer," he confessed honestly. "Why'd you cover mine?"
"Same," Logan responded, maybe even a bit quieter.
James wasn't sure where Logan's lips were exactly in the dark, but he still found them easily enough with his own when he grabbed Logan by the back of his head and pulled him forward. Logan stiffened at first, caught unawares, but after a second or two, he softened, leaning into James and the kiss. And James was incredibly grateful that he did, because if Logan had pulled away, he didn't have a follow-up plan. He didn't even have a plan for what to do after the kiss broke, nor was he really sure why he initiated it in the first place. All he could think sitting there staring at Logan through the thick darkness was that Logan had always been there. He talked to Logan, he shared sacred things with Logan, his feelings, his secrets, his bed… He trusted Logan with everything, why not this, too?
Logan was someone who listened to him and sat around with him alone on his bed in the dark. James liked Logan and, from the way he was kissing back and bringing his body a little closer to James', crowding them both into the small space of a corner of James' bed, he was starting to think Logan liked him, too.
So what other reason did he need?