Logan knocked on the door to suite 201 and pushed it open. Ray and Frank were nowhere to be seen, but Mikey, Gerard, Kendall, and Carlos were gathered around the small coffee table in the center of the outer room, cards spread over the table. Kendall looked at him like a drowning man at a lifeboat.

"Logan! We were just trying to convince Kendall here to lose the shirt. He had the worst hand," Mikey said, and Kendall bristled once more. Logan thought Kendall was making it rather too easy for Mikey and Gerard to take the piss, but Kendall probably couldn't see that.

"Aw, leave him alone. I'll take his place," Logan said, taking pity on Kendall's discomfort even though he himself was crap at card games.

"Thank you," Kendall mouthed at him, getting up off the ground to toss himself sulkily into a chair off to the side.

"What did James have to show you?" Carlos asked, looking totally unbothered by Kendall's foul mood.

Logan should have been prepared for that question, but he wasn't. "Uh. The convention hall. It's very…big."

Gerard looked like he was trying to swallow a smirk. "And where is dear James now?"

"He's showering," Logan replied seconds before his brain blared, 'it's a trap!'

"I see," Gerard said, exchanging glances with Mikey. Gerard opened his mouth again, but Mikey shoved him so hard he almost fell over.

"Be nice, Gee," he said, and Logan was aware that his cheeks were on fire. He hoped Carlos and Kendall didn't notice anything.

They played poker and a few other card games for the next hour and a half. At some point Frank wandered in from the beds in the next room, looking a little better—Logan had to wonder just how much of the minibar they'd gotten into last night—and sat on the couch behind Gerard, commenting on his hands and getting smacked for it. They fell into easy conversation, despite the fact that the members of the other band were as close to thirty as Big Time Rush was to twenty. Once Logan got over his initial embarrassment, he found he didn't mind the jokes and innuendo that seemed to come as natural to the Way brothers as breathing. Even Kendall loosened up after awhile, and Carlos, of course, had never stopped being his happy-go-lucky self.

James texted him half an hour in, saying his little brother wanted to Skype to make sure he was alright. James himself arrived in person awhile after they switched from Texas hold 'em to gin rummy, wearing a form-fitting button down unbuttoned low enough to show he was definitely not wearing an undershirt. His jeans stretched over his ass when he turned to close the door behind him, and his hair shone as brightly as his teeth. He stole the spotlight and all of Gerard's attention the second he walked in the room, and Carlos by that point was more than happy to relinquish his place.

Fifteen minutes later, Logan was feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Gerard and James were deep in private conversation about music labels and famous artists they'd met. Mikey had attempted to keep the game going for a few minutes before it became clear that the other two barely remembered they were supposed to be playing cards at all. He'd shuffled the cards back together and made small talk with Logan about the weather while Logan eavesdropped on Gerard and James.

Kendall and Carlos left a few minutes later to follow James' example and Skype their families, and Logan declined the invitation to come with them. There was no way he was leaving James alone in MCR's hotel room. James had confessed to not having heard any of MCR's older music and Gerard had produced an ipod. James had one earbud and Gerard had the other, and consequently they were sitting much, much closer than Logan would have liked.

"Hey, Logan, c'mere. Science question," called Mikey from the window. Logan tore himself away from his jealous—why are you jealous you shouldn't be jealous this is stupid—staring and walked over to join him. "Do you think," Mikey began, "it'll snow more?"

"That was your question?" Logan asked, frowning.

"Heh, no, I just wanted you over here. Let's talk."

Logan stared out at the gently falling flakes—which had mercifully slowed to light flurries—and waited.

"So you're secretly screwing James, you're in love with him, and you don't know how to deal. Does that cover everything?" His voice was warm, and thankfully absent of most of its usual mischief.

Logan's blood nevertheless ran cold.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"You're way obvious, you know. I think your other two bandmates must be pretty oblivious."

"Yeah, they are," Logan said before he could stop himself. Mikey's weak reflection in the glass smiled victoriously.

"Sorry about my brother. He thinks everyone is as freelove as he is."

"It's fine. There's nothing between us. We're just…ah…fuckbuddies. I guess."

"Is that what James thinks?"

"That's what I think," Logan insisted. Mikey's mouth twisted.

"Mm-hmm."

"Hey, is it true what you guys were saying last night?" Logan asked, voicing something that had been on his mind ever since he's heard it. "Do all bands sleep with each other on the road?"

"Nice change of topic. A lot of us do, yeah. I've heard stories, man. Dirty, dirty stories." Mikey laughed and drew a penis in the frost on the window. Logan snorted and wiped it away.

"Do you?" he asked, feeling bold.

"Me? Nah. The others? Hell yes. Gerard and Frank," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "They think they're being sneaky."

Logan smirked, turning to look at the others again. Gerard had a hand on James' leg, pointing at something on the ipod with the other. Frank lay at the other end of the couch, feet pressed against Gerard's thigh. And yeah, Logan could see it.

"I don't have any advice for you," Mikey said, "except maybe not to let Gerard coax you guys into strip poker. I'm so not responsible for what goes down after something like that."

"Thanks," Logan said sarcastically, but his smile was real. "No offence, but I'm getting James out of here before your brother molests him any more."

"None taken. Gee's a horndog. Watch your boy, Logan. He's hot, legal, and currently single."

Logan made a face and walked up behind James, tugging the earbud out of his ear. The faint chorus of "Helena" echoed from the speaker and Logan glanced down to see that Gerard was playing the music video on his ipod. "Come on. I should Skype my family too. You can say hi to my mom."

"Logan…" James began, letting his name hang in the air.

"Please?" Logan asked. "You know Mom gets worried about you."

"That's just 'cause she thinks I'll be conned into prostitution one of these days. I'm not that dumb," James grumbled, but he got up and made his farewells to Gerard.

"Hey, James," Gerard said, "next time you want to 'show Logan something,' you could show me instead." He grinned lecherously.

James' eyes widened, but his face settled into a smirk. "Maybe I will. Catch you later, Gee."

They walked out together, Logan broiling in jealousy and James practically whistling. Logan knew James loved attention, loved being loved, but this was ridiculous.

XXXXXXXX

They all gathered around the screen to Skype Logan's family. Logan's mom loved all the boys and was happy to talk to them and provide them with ample warnings about death by frostbite and several other cold-weather maladies that had them all rolling their eyes good-naturedly and chorusing a succession of "yes ma'am"s.

"So what happened after we left?" Kendall asked. "Did Gerard try to sodomize you?"

"Jackass," James said lightly. "He's really a cool guy. And MCR has tons more experience than we do. We could learn a lot from them."

"I don't want to learn anything they're teaching," Kendall growled, and Logan stepped in before the disagreement could degenerate into a real fight.

"Who's up for a movie?" he threw out hopefully, and Carlos, predictably, was all for it. They piled onto the beds and surfed through the pay-per-view selections, arguing the merits of Transformers versus Underworld. Carlos—who had control of the remote—flipped curiously through the adult section, but clearly the subject of sex was looking a little raw at the moment, because none of them commented on any of the titles or suggested they watch one.

They finally settled on the old Mission: Impossible and watched it for awhile until the catchy theme song loosened them all up and they fell to talking and joking once more. Natalie was sending Kendall regular reports on the goings-on of management and snowmobiles both, which Kendall relayed to the rest of them.

The movie played out and they scattered to their phones and laptops while Carlos insisted they watch Iron Chef on the Food Network. Before long, Kendall snapped his laptop shut and flopped on his back. "I'm boooored," he moaned.

"Go to sleep," James suggested from where he was facebook chatting with a few friends.

"Not tired. Hey, let's go exploring. Wanna check out the kitchens? Maybe we can convince the staff to make something other than sandwiches for dinner."

Carlos was game but James was busy. Apparently Jenny Tinkler was in the hospital with a broken hip, and he was cheering her up. Logan elected to stay in the room to finish the research he'd been doing on possible science fair projects—he might have hit on something genius in altering snow density.

"Fine, losers. Text us if you want in. I sense adventure!" Kendall said, raising a finger to punctuate his point.

"If we're not back by six-thirty, we've probably been captured, or worse, so you should start worrying," Carlos advised as they swung out the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Logan mumbled, only half-listening. There was real work to be done here.

Five minutes later, James shut his laptop and said, "I'm booored," in such an exact imitation of Kendall that Logan had to laugh.

"Go play with Kendall and Carlos, then," Logan said, not looking up from the article he was reading.

"But I'd rather play with you," James purred, sliding onto the bed and tugging Logan's laptop away from him. Logan's eyes darted to the door, then the clock. 5:15.

"Really? We just fucked earlier," Logan said hesitantly.

"Ain't no limit on teenage hormones," James sang, getting up to deposit Logan's laptop on the table and slide the chain on the door into place.

"And remember this morning? When we nearly got caught in this room?"

"Eh, they won't be back for, like, an hour. C'mon, Logan. I'm horny," he whined. "Bet I could get you in the mood."

"Fine," Logan said. "Come here." He slipped down on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and James crawled over him to brace himself on his elbows. He looked down at Logan's face for a moment before leaning down, very slowly, to catch Logan's lips in a kiss, and…oh.

The kiss was slower than Logan would have expected, and sweeter, just presses of lips and deep swipes of tongues. Logan opened his eyes after a moment to find James looking at him, too. They held each other's gaze even as Logan flushed, and he felt James smile into the kiss. Logan wrapped his arms around James' back and pulled him down to lie flush against him. James broke away to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, where he licked and sucked at the skin.

Logan sucked in a breath. "No marks," he warned.

"No fun," came James' muffled reply. He pulled himself back to Logan's mouth and licked in deeply. Logan wormed his hands between them to undo his pants, shoving them down just enough before turning his fingers to James' fly.

"Still no lube," Logan muttered against James' mouth.

"Doesn't matter. We've already…done that." James was struggling with coherency. "Let's just…" He left the thought unfinished, rolling them over so Logan was on top. James arched up a little to grind against him, and Logan matched him with eager circles of his hips and a hiss of pleasure.

James sucked his fingers into his mouth and spat a little into his palm before pushing the hand down the back of Logan's pants. He pushed a finger inside him and crooked it, and then Logan's body couldn't figure out whether it wanted to push back against the finger or forward against James' cock. James rubbed mercilessly against his prostate for a few seconds; Logan was crying out in James' face by the time he eased off. "Jesus," Logan whined, rutting down against him.

James pushed two fingers in, then three, not trying to stretch Logan at all, just fucking him with them. He added more spit every now and then to keep things slick. Logan was breathing hard and grunting every other thrust, but James seemed slightly more composed, almost smug. "Good?" James asked.

Deciding he couldn't manage words, Logan kissed him in response, sloppy and desperate. "James," he mumbled, and James shoved his fingers in and rubbed hard. Logan shuddered with orgasm, coming over James' stomach. He rolled off James to sprawl over the bed in exhaustion, half on his side, face turned towards James. James turned to face him and kissed him gently.

"Lemme… Lemme catch my breath," Logan panted, trailing still-shaky fingers down to brush over James' cock. He gave himself fifteen more seconds before pushing James onto his back and crawling down to wrap his lips around the head of his dick. He suckled for a moment before taking him deeper, licking and sucking and fondling his balls. James' hands stroked over Logan's hair, but he was polite about it and didn't shove or grab.

He wasn't trying to draw it out, but apparently James had unlocked some kind of reserve of stamina, because it took nearly two minutes for him to come. James tugged him off before he orgasmed and finished himself with two strokes of his own hand. He went rigid and Logan watched as come pooled on his stomach to join the white streaks of Logan's own.

James had kissed Logan through Logan's afterglow, so Logan returned the favor, finding James sweet and pliant beneath him. James smiled sedately when Logan pulled away. "Not bored anymore," he said.

"I'd be offended if you were," Logan returned, settling back against the pillows and ignoring the way his jeans caught at his skin where they had ended up around his knees.

"Up for another round?" James asked, and Logan looked at him with a shocked laugh.

"You're not serious."

"I mean, I could totally go again in a minute or two—teenage stamina, Logan, that's a science thing, right?—but no, I'm kidding. I could go for a nap, though."

"Yeah, that's a science thing. Teenage boys have incredibly short refractory periods, and teenage girls have even shorter. It's due to the—"

"Yeah, sure, tell me about it later, huh?" James said, closing his eyes, but he couldn't keep the smirk off his face and a second later he cracked an eye to see what Logan was doing.

What Logan was doing was getting up to wet a wad of tissues to clean James off—he'd caught both their loads on his stomach. He hiked his jeans back on on the way to the bathroom, realizing his underwear was well-stained with precome by this point. He tossed the tissues to James when he returned and waited while James wiped away the come, then disposed of the wad in the toilet and flushed it. James really did look like he might go to sleep, so Logan poked him until he at least did up his pants before rolling over to nap.

The clock only read 5:30, so Logan retrieved his laptop and continued his research until Kendall and Carlos came back, babbling about helping the staff prepare spaghetti for the whole hotel.

XXXXXXXX

MCR was thankfully absent when they went down for dinner, and with the home-style spaghetti and the conversation flowing among band and crew, it really did feel like a normal night on the road. Natalie kept reflexively checking her phone for updates, though, and Billy was worried about the wheels on the bus and the transmission fluid, so it was hard to forget their precarious position, career-wise.

Martin had been checking the message boards off and on over the course of the day to monitor the reactions to BTR's apology video, and he reported a mostly positive reception from the fans.

"Of course they understand," Carlos said. "They know there's nothing we can do." Carlos had infinite faith in their fans. Logan was a bit more wary of them, having read one too many stories of fans turned violent and arrests for stalking, not to mention how easily public opinion was swayed.

Dinner was over much too quickly, and soon the four were back in their room again.

"The Palm Woods lobby is fun to hang out in; this one's just depressing," James had determined when Logan had suggested they chill downstairs rather than cooped up in their room.

"Argh, I'm so bored," Carlos groaned, falling onto the bed and rolling around. "I feel like I'm coming out of my skin."

Kendall stood and put his hands on his hips; Logan could tell he was about to say something leader-like. "We," he intoned, "are four best friends who have spent countless hours with nothing but each other's company. We can surely keep ourselves entertained." He paused, and they all waited for him to suggest something. Eventually he shrugged. "I got nothing. James?" Carlos and Logan groaned.

"I could fix Logan's hair," he offered. "No offense, but I think a flatter look would suit you better."

"No way," Logan said, warding him off as Kendall turned to Carlos for salvation.

"Or…wait!" James said, looking at his phone. "Text from Gerard."

"He gave you his number?" Kendall scoffed. James gave him the finger.

"He says they restocked their minibar and we should come help them empty it."

"'We'?" Logan asked skeptically.

"Okay, he said me, but I'm sure it'd be fine if we all came. Yeah?" He looked around at them all hopefully.

"Absolutely not," Kendall said, shoving Carlos before he could agree. "There is no way in hell we're getting drunk with those guys."

"Aw, c'mon," James whined, looking to Logan for backup.

Logan wouldn't give it to him, but there might be a better solution… "Hey, who says we need to drink with MCR? We have our own minibar." James frowned at him, but Kendall rallied to the idea, kneeling down in front of the little fridge and poking around inside.

"Three beers and assorted liquors in those tiny bottles. A bottle of wine, too."

"Do we have shot glasses?" Carlos asked, coming up behind him.

"Nope. Only those water glasses."

"Classy," Carlos said with a laugh, going to fetch them.

Logan settled on the bed to wait, making idle conversation with James, who had resigned himself to not seeing Gerard for the rest of the night. Logan privately thought drinking was more or less a waste of time, but he went along with the others. They were lightweights, all of them, but Logan could understand that having a drink in hand made you feel cool. He just hoped no one got too smashed tonight, especially Kendall. He was completely nasty when he had a hangover.

"Drinking game?" Carlos asked, handing out glasses into which Kendall was pouring a few inches of wine from the small bottle.

"Never have I ever?" Kendall suggested, and Logan groaned.

"Oh, please no. We've done that too many times. You know everyone's dirty secrets by now." Behind him, James laughed quietly and Logan thought about kicking him.

"Fine. Suggestions?" The others were silent. "Does anyone actually know any other drinking games?"

"Uhh…" Carlos said.

"Whatever," James said, sipping his wine like a gentleman and making a face as soon as it hit his tongue. "This is awful."

"Hotel wine. What did you expect?" Logan said, taking a gulp. James was right; it was seriously cheap stuff.

"Drain it and I'll get that thing of vodka," Kendall promised. Carlos flipped on the tv again and found Scrubs.

"Oh, I've got one! Drink every time J.D. does a voiceover," he suggested. There were general murmurs of assent and they settled back to watch. An episode and a half later, they had finished the wine, the vodka, the tiny bottle of tequila that had yielded only half a shot for each of them, and Kendall had gotten up to get the beers.

"Only three," he said, staring at the fridge.

"You guys have them. I'm fine," Logan assured him, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He felt muzzy and knew he was well over the legal limit for driving. Well, the legal BAC limit was 0.0 for someone his age, he thought, and laughed out loud. The others joined him for some reason. Carlos burped and they all laughed again.

That was enough alcohol for Logan. He'd had…let's see…a glass and a half of wine, two shots of vodka, and half a shot of tequila. That meant he'd be sober again in…a while. Some number of hours. His brain wasn't functioning too well. He settled back to watch the show.

The others finished their beers well into the third episode, and when Kendall stumbled into the wall trying to get to the fridge, Logan decided they'd all had enough. "No more," he said, grabbing the remote from Carlos and pushing Kendall back onto the bed.

"Nooo," Kendall giggled. "He pushed me!"

"'M not drunk," Carlos said stubbornly.

"Yes you are," Logan said, grateful that the last half-hour had cleared his head just enough to permit rational thought and body movements. He dragged the desk chair in front of the minibar, blocking the door to the fridge. "No more," he said again. They were all such lightweights, and the other three had had an extra beer.

James hadn't said anything, and when Logan glanced at him he found him staring back, following his every movement.

"Logan I need a drink! He did another voiceover!" Carlos shouted, too loudly.

"Have a pretend drink," Logan advised, and Carlos did, sipping at an imaginary glass and laughing tipsily. Logan changed the channel and crawled back on the bed. James turned to continue staring at him, and Logan decided he was still too tipsy to deal with it. "TV's over there, James," he said, and James reluctantly turned to watch.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was on, and Logan resigned himself to hearing Kendall and Carlos rhapsodize about eating nothing but candy all day. Somewhere near the middle James knocked his foot into Logan's and Logan kicked back, and somehow he ended up with one sock-covered foot resting on top of James'. It was comfortable and he didn't think much of it.

By the end of the movie Kendall was crashed and Carlos was snoring. It was nearly eleven, which was a late enough hour to go to sleep, so Logan hauled himself out of bed to pull the blanket at the foot of the bed out from under their toes and drape it over the bed—it was a chilly night. He was pleased to find himself nearly sober, which was a relief. If he was being honest with himself, one of the main reasons he didn't like alcohol was the way it made him lose control of his brain. It scared him, just a little.

"Such the mom," James murmured, and Logan turned. It was one of the first times he'd spoken in hours. Logan stripped out of his jeans and sweater and shut off the light, coaxing James to do the same. He followed directions without too many false moves, which was comforting.

"Are you sober?" Logan asked.

"Nope," James admitted, pawing back the blankets.

Logan sighed and crawled under the covers after James, turning on his side to face the other bed. "Logan," James whispered. Logan grunted. "Logan," he insisted, and Logan rolled over to face him, finding himself nearly nose-to-nose with his friend. "We're being rescued tomorrow," James told him. His breath smelled like beer and then he nudged forward and kissed Logan, and his mouth tasted like beer too.

"You wanna fuck again?" Logan asked, confused, after a few seconds of enjoying James' tongue.

"No. Just wanna…kiss you."

"You're drunk," Logan informed him.

"'M not that drunk," James protested, and in fact his eyes looked disconcertingly clear. Logan was torn, sure that this wasn't really "friends with benefits" territory. "Logan," James breathed, and Logan threw his concerns to the wind.

James reached up to cup the side of his face as they made out, his palm warm and heavy on Logan's skin. Logan scooted closer to press against him, careful to keep his groin out of the contact. Kissing he'd do, but there was no way in hell he'd let himself be coerced into fooling around three feet from where Kendall and Carlos slept. James slipped a leg between Logan's, tangling them together. It was warm and safe and, there in the wash of moonlight bouncing off snow that bathed the bed, Logan felt the little box he'd packed all of his James-feelings into shatter completely.

But that could wait until morning to be dealt with.