Logan liked to spend the night with Carlos in his room, despite Carlos' many bad habits like eating all the food in the fridge and leaving his socks hanging in his bathroom. Logan liked leaving messages on the bathroom mirror, post-it notes that say you forgot to put the cap back on or don't forget to floss that Carlos would find long after he's gone and keep folded in the dresser drawer to look at from time to time.

Whenever he couldn't sleep, Logan would pad into Carlos' bedroom and worm his way under the covers, his knees cold when he pushed them behind Carlos', their legs woven together between the blankets.

"Your hair is so soft," he'd say, "And fuzzy." And he'd laugh and turn Carlos around, the tip of his nose pressed against Carlos' ear, short little breaths that make the hair on Carlos' neck stand on end and something inside him unspool like threads.

"Do you want to kiss?" Carlos would say.

It seemed almost impossibly perfect sometimes, how he and Logan just understand each other. He touched Logan between the shoulderblades and the tension between them unravels. He touched the back of Carlos' hand and Carlos' shoulders curl and he shivered.

He kissed Carlos and Carlos' bones shook. It's just something to do. Forgive me Father for I love him, he thought.

"Just tell her you're gay."

"Just tell her I'm gay," Logan repeated incredulously, shaking his head. "Yeah, because that's a brilliant idea."

James shrugged, not looking away from the screen, thumbs pummelling at the control pad as if his life depended on it. It summed it up, Logan thought, the indifference. His entire life was about to fall apart and James couldn't give a toss.

"You'll have to tell her at some point," James said, grimacing as the pixellated enemy advanced. "Might as well be now."

"I can't," Logan protested. He'd kept it quiet for a very good reason: His mother would kill him.

"You told me and Kendall," James countered.

That had been bad enough. James gaping at him as if he'd just said he was growing a second head out of his armpit. If it weren't for the realisation that he was no longer a competitor for the attention of the female student body, Logan got the impression James might still be giving him the cold shoulder, even now.

There was a crash on the television and James threw the pad down in disgust, 'game over' flashing across the screen. He finally got James' focussed attention and he had to concentrate on keeping his mind on the issue at hand.

"It's simple, Logie," James told him, slouching back against his pillows. "You either tell her or you get married. It's up to you." James grinned then, cheeks dimpling, "But, if you do, I have to be your best man."

Logan frowned. He hadn't even thought that far.

James was oblivious.

"Cos, if I'm best man, I'll have to sleep with the bridesmaid. It's tradition."