This is what I'm basing Craig's looks after. Just in case you were wondering :)
./tumblr_llxt1ohV5O1qi9s2zo1_
Thank you all for the interest in this story and for continuing to read it ^_^ and of course special thanks to those who review. It truly means the world to me...so review again and let me know what you thought! :D
On with the story!
No, Logan doesn't get lucky that night. And to be honest, he really doesn't give a shit. Because he had underestimated how tiring it was to put so much effort into appearance for one night. And so what if nothing even remotely sexual happened? That wasn't really the plan with Craig anyway. He's pretty much just there to show off to James and talk to and apparently, he's a bonafide schemer just like Logan. They realize this during their "date" that actually does end up being dinner because Logan is absolutely starving once they meet up.
Only Craig's version of scheming can be a little scary, Logan realizes after half a plate of tortellini. They often tend to include some sort of marine animal or a crapload of random objects that they'd be hard pressed to find. So Logan spoons another noodle into his mouth and pats his hand dismissingly on top of Craig's, uttering with a confident smile, "Just leave the planning to me."
James isn't up pretending to watch TV like Logan assumes he'd be when he gets home that night. True, it is pretty late. And yes, the pretty boy does savor his beauty rest. But something inside Logan twists a little when he doesn't find him waiting up like a worried father.
Does he care at all that he was just in the arms of another person? Well…was pretending to at least?
Deciding that it's simply too late in the evening to fully fret about this, Logan kicks off his shoes and drags his ass to their room, making sure to be quiet when he opens and closes the door.
Breakfast the next morning is a little more than super awkward, since everyone seems to think it's a good idea to go down to the pool without even waking him or James. Hell, they don't even know where everyone is until they notice that everyone's sandals are gone instead of their shoes. Opting not to join them due to individual stresses, Logan and James find themselves sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and every once in a while dipping a hand into a bowl of donuts between them.
Logan ignores how James keeps staring at him, his eyes roaming over his face like the smarter boy has absolutely no idea what he's doing.
"So then…" James finally breaks the awkward silence, staring into his coffee cup, "How was she?"
Logan glances up to him, chewing on his bottom lip out of habit, "Hm?" he hums skeptically, not needing to fake the confusion.
This prompts James to tap his fingers anxiously against the table, "Whoever she was," he explains, his voice low. When Logan rises an eyebrow he lets out a sigh and adds, "Last night?" his voice rising a little.
"Oh," the shorter boy nods his head, finally comprehending what's being asked. He offers a nonchalant: "It wasn't a girl."
James chokes into his coffee, rubbing a hand across his mouth as he sets his cup down a little harder than necessary, "What?" he bites.
And Logan just shrugs, doing his best to seem unaffected, "It wasn't a girl. I'm seeing a guy."
"Since when?" James nearly bites his head off before he catches himself and gains composure just as fast, "Since when?" he asks, softer this time, feigning interest.
But Logan can see right through it, "Since yesterday I guess."
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
The awkward silence comes back in full force, and James' fingers are tapping against the table again, his eyes everywhere but the boy in front of him. They had always flaunted girls in each other's faces. It was routine and an unsaid rule. But now Logan's bringing in a guy? That's uncharted territory.
"So do you-…" James starts but then stops himself, opting to take a drink of coffee instead.
Logan looks straight at him, "Do I what?"
And the way James looks like he's trying so hard to contain himself gives Logan a little bit of a victory smile. "I'm going out tonight," he changes the subject quickly, "with the new girl."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," James' fingers are tapping up a storm as he waits a moment and then leans in, seeming unsatisfied with the lack of an opinion from Logan, "Is that it?"
Logan raises an eyebrow, "What?"
"You're not going to say anything?" James questions, his voice rising again and his eyebrows coming together.
Logan simply shrugs, taking a sip from his cup and then offering, "Why would I? You go out on dates all the time."
"Yeah but you-…" he stops himself again, and his eyes close in what seems like a wild attempt to gain control.
"But I what?" Logan presses pointedly, enjoying the position he's in at the moment and not wanting it to end just yet.
James sits there for a moment silently, his eyes staring into the table and his mouth forming into a hard line until he scoots his chair briskly away from the table, "Nothing," he grits out and then makes his way to the sink to dump his unfinished coffee down the drain.
"Alright," Logan mumbles, trying to fight back a conquering smirk when he adds, "I'm going out tonight too, by the way."
James' shoulder stiffen, his head hanging at the sink. The silence overtakes them for a moment, and then he's pushing out, "I don't care," and walking away.
Oh, how that bathroom swirls overpoweringly with testosterone and heavy egos that night, each boy with their own side of the sink: James' side covered with hair care products and combs of all different sizes, and Logan's side almost just as bad.
Their elbows collide with each other every couple of minutes, earning disgruntled noises from both sides. Other than that, the boys go about perfecting themselves wordlessly, each staring at their appearance in the mirror.
James sprays a rather generous amount of something around his hair, leaving a towering sticky cloud that Logan just so happens to inhale.
"God!" he chokes, leaning over the sink and coughing with his eyes squeezed shut, "Use enough?"
"Yeah, thanks," James answers with a proud cheeky smile. It's unexpected, but welcomed just the same. "You didn't though."
Logan looks up at him through the mirror, confusion apparent on his face, "What?"
James hovers the spray can to the side of his friend's head, finger perched on nozzle, "Allow me."
"James, don't," he orders, the stern look plastered all over his face losing authenticity when a small smile starts to creep forward, "I will kill you." He knows he's supposed to be all sexy and mysterious, but it's hard when the other boy suddenly jumps into his childish mode.
"Will you?" James grins playfully, moving his hand forward like he's going to spray it.
"I will."
SPRAAAAAY
"James Diamond!" Logan shouts, only to become a choking mess as the hair spray settles onto his tongue.
But James is smiling wider than he has ever seen, that flash of playfulness dancing in his eyes as he sprays another long cloud over the other boy's head.
And Logan really can't go down without a fight. So he grabs another can from the counter and presses his finger down on top of the nozzle as hard as he can straight at the taller boy in front of him.
Thus begins the Diamond vs. Mitchell battle of the century, each boy trying not to grin like an idiot and not really succeeding as they wave their arms at each other and in the air, a sticky cloud descending onto them. Logan puts a hand out, backing up slowly in the tiny bathroom as James pressed forward, a snickering laugh escaping him.
"Give up!" the taller boy teases loudly, his voice breaking through the mass of spraying sounds.
And Logan laughs, his heart feeling light as he gives one more good spray and shouts, "Yeah right!"
That's when the back of his legs hit the bathtub and he loses his balance, arms swinging as he's catapulted backwards. Every speck of cheerfulness immediately erases from James' face, sudden worry replacing it as he lurches forward, one arm wrapping around Logan's back and the other cushioning the back of his head as he goes down for the count.
It almost seems to happen in slow motion, their wide eyes connecting the whole way down as Logan is more or less eased down into the tub, James doing a sort of half twist to make sure he doesn't land on him.
When Logan comes to his senses, James is settled next to him, both of their legs hanging out of the bathtub.
"Thanks," he wheezes out, his voice a little off from all of the contamination. At least it's that and he's not in a coma from hitting his head against the wall.
James nods silently, a hand coming up to his usually perfect locks only to be met with a sticky mess, "My hair…" he utters frailly.
This prompts Logan to chuckle softly and point out: "My hair," bringing his fingers through the short dark hair until it points up in a silly little half Mohawk.
James smiles, and then reaches out to push the sad excuse for a hairstyle down, "So much for all that time we spent getting ready," he mutters, and neither of them can really tell if he sounds upset or not.
Logan shifts against the hard white ceramic beneath him and reaches a hand up to the shower handle, turning it before the other boy can say anything.
When the water falls down on them, matting their once sticky hair to their foreheads and plastering their clothes to their bodies, Logan glances over to James, who looks like he's trying to hold in a grin.
"I guess we aren't going out on our dates tonight," James mumbles, his eyes still closed from the water hitting his face.
Logan simply lets the smile take over his face, his head lying against the back of the wall. "No," he agrees softly, "I guess we aren't."
They sit like that for a few moments, just letting the shower pour all over them and their expensive clothes. It proves to be pretty relaxing until they look up and Kendall is standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed and a single eyebrow raised to his hairline. That's when Carlos slowly leans his head into the doorway too, sporting his own uncertain look.
The other boys stare back expressionlessly from their spot in the bathtub, until they both tilt their heads and say in unison: "Can I help you?"
Their little moment where they reverted back to being eight year olds doesn't last. James kind of drifts away after he changes clothes and Logan does the same, realization hitting him now that the event has passed. Yes, it was kind of awesome goofing around like that, but in the end, James had successfully gotten Logan to not go out on his date. And that pretty much seems like the only motive. Logan tries to make himself feel better in every way possible but he can't shake the feeling that he lost. He lost to James. The least the narcissistic boy could've done was make a move on him. But no. He kept him home for the sake of keeping him home.
This is where Logan makes a promise to himself to stay on target.
This is where Logan makes a promise to himself to not fall for anything James tries again.
The next night he goes through his routine. Perfect hair, prefect cologne, utterly tormenting clothes that drag James' eyes along with them as Logan moves about the room.
He has to admit he likes the attention. He likes how he can see James pull his lip in between his pearly white teeth from the reflection in the refrigerator door. He likes how he can feel his eyes trailing over every inch, every curve of his body. He especially likes it when he gets caught looking.
"Need something?" Logan says offhandedly or something along those lines every time his eyes meet those darkened hazel ones.
This makes James clear his throat and suddenly find something else very interesting, muttering an indistinct fragmented sentence under his breath.
But it doesn't stop him from glancing back up again once Logan turns back around.
And Logan loves every fucking second of it.
He loves it so much that he does it again the next night.
James is sitting on his bed immersed in some sort of fashion magazine that is aimed towards 17 year old girls and him. His eyebrows come together and his mouth parts when his eyes scan over the colorful patterns on the dresses that the skinny little models are wearing. It can be sort of endearing. But Logan doesn't really care at this exact moment.
Because he walks into their room minus a shirt, black skinny jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips as he smoothly buckles his belt and heads toward his closet.
And when he hears the crinkle of a magazine, he anticipates the feeling of those smoldering eyes burning against his creamy skin. Exactly what he had expected. He expects the air in the room to thicken as he reaches up to pull at one of his shirts, the muscles in his back no doubt flexing in some sort of tantalizing way. He expects it all. The only thing he doesn't expect is the sound of James' bed creaking weightlessly and then the soft fabric of a shirt brushing against his bare back moments later.
His movements falter for a split second, but then Logan reaches back up again, pulling at a vest like he's trying to figure out what he's going to wear. But even if he actually wanted to, he wouldn't be able to concentrate. Because suddenly that soft feeling against his back gets a little heavier and an arm is hovering around him, fingers touching down and moving in feather-light patterns against the prominent muscles in his stomach.
Logan swallows, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as James' fingers run along the side of his abdomen, finally finding their way against the curve of his hip bone that's peeking over the top of his pants. He wants to say something, but he knows it'll come out in a less than dominant fashion, so he pulls the vest off the hanger with a tug and closes his closet without a word.
Two dark eloquent eyes peer into him when he turns around. Then they trace down lower, hungrily taking everything in and then meeting with his again. Logan stares back challengingly, running his tongue along his bottom lip, only to turn and take a step away. But suddenly James has him by the shoulders and he's tugging him back and pressing him tight against the closet, his firm grip not letting go.
Logan lets out a firm sigh, a hard line forming at his jaw as he stares straight back at James, not a single weak bone felt in his body. He can see the way James swallows roughly, something flashing across his eyes that neither of them can put their finger on.
And then James allows one hand to stay tight against Logan's shoulder as the other smoothly runs down his chest, coming to rest at those alluring contours of tense muscle under soft skin once again. Every line he draws is pathed by a fiery streak that burns into the shorter boy, and he's enjoying it far too much.
Logan catches himself. He catches the way his eyes almost drift shut again and the way the feeling of James' fingers are going straight down. He's about to pull away when the echo of his name is being called from outside their room and suddenly Kendall is sticking his head in the door way.
"Have you seen my-…" Kendall trails off, his voice dying out as he is met with a no doubt awkward scene, "Uhh…"
James and Logan turn their heads at the same time but don't move any further, even though they should because Kendall has that narrowed, analyzing eyes thing going on again. That's a record for them. Twice in two days.
When nothing but silence is accomplished, Kendall pushes out a skeptic: "I'll find it myself…" and then disappears just as suddenly as he had appeared.
After a slight moment of getting over what just happened, the two look back at each other again, Logan pushing James' hand away from him in aggravation. But James swiftly grabs his wrist in the air, pressing forward once more before murmuring: "Don't go out tonight."
It's heavy and demanding and everything that is James Diamond. But Logan isn't about to fall again. He isn't about to give in on all he's worked for simply because James says to.
So he jerks his wrist out of James' clutches and pushes him far enough away to side step and disappear, just like the blonde before him.
That night when he's out with Craig, Logan tries not to think about James and those fingers and how he left him standing there.
He tries not to wonder if maybe James's fingers find their way against his own body that night. A body wrought with need and craving a touch.
He tries not to think about the way James' mouth would drop open, eyes shut tight and the slick sheen of sweat that would glisten over his body as that final movement pulls him over the edge and he's slurring curse words over moans of Logan's name.
He tries not to think of any of it. But he does just the same.
