A/N: Good news everyone, I'm not dead, and neither are these stories. I've just been too tired to write for Olympian and too frustrated to write for Dreamscape. Plus I've been annoyingly busy with marching band season and school starting in less than a week (got me some post-Calculus BC math with a teacher who hates me, fun).

Anyways, enough of the negative. Thank you to GLJ4, hellfirehalo188, H Koutalidou Aligizaki, Jessamine Lovelace, LessThanThree333, OrangeTrufflex, Edward Changed Me, duckduck4, TidusGT, BadLuckGrl13, Sum1cooler, Lewkis, rosaxD114, Big Time Pokefan, Kogan4ever, and MyWonderland209 for your reviews, faves, and alerts. They all mean a lot, and it makes me beyond happy to see that my little listings get a little longer with every chapter (although that's partially because this took me so fucking long to write…).

Before I start, if you don't know what astral projection is, I'd encourage you to look it up now so that you don't get confused when it comes up. So now for the part that you've waited more than a week (or 2 even, I've lost track) for: story time!


Chapter VII

Carlos stared at the stage door. On the other side was possibly the best gymnast in the world and the guy he had an insane crush on. Or it could just be some regular old other guy named Logan; that was still a possibility too. He shook off that thought though. Logan Mitchell had said on live international television that he might go to meet this "Carlos Garcia", and there was a high probability that this was the exact same Logan. The tan boy placed a hand on the door handle, pushing it slowly downward.

Taking a peek across the threshold, he still couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the short yet muscular brunet standing on the other side even though he expected that exact person. The pale boy was whistling softly, and Carlos could easily understand the melody coming out; it was the song they had just performed. Swallowing hard, he pushed the door open a little wider, causing Logan to turn toward him. Eyes locked, and they stared at each other for a couple of seconds before the gymnast reached out a hand for a shake.

"Carlos Garcia?" he asked calmly, an adorable half-smile etched across his features. The Latino just responded by opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like a fish, pointing a finger at Logan in apparent disbelief. The gymnast simply watched with slight amusement for a couple minutes before frowning and waving his outstretched hand in front of the other's eyes. "Yoo-hoo, anyone in there?" Logan knocked gently on the side of his head a few times, the Latino finally regaining control of his body after the third knock and beginning to blurt out words and stutter fractured sentences. His hands flailed back and forth as he began to point between the two of them, finger shaking from nervousness.

"Oh, uh, yeah… I… you… of course… I-I am here! Don't be silly! Why wouldn't I be here?" Words fell haphazardly from the tan boy's mouth, and Logan chuckled as the boy in front of him tried to regain his composure. A few more seconds of incoherent babble passed through Carlos' lips before he finally finished a full thought. "I mean, the real question is are you actually here?" The taller boy tipped his head a bit to the side, donning a confused expression.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Y'know, like this could just be some sort of astral projection or hologram of Logan Mitchell that I'm talking to. Or it could even be a robot!" Carlos replied, watching as Logan raised an eyebrow at him. "What, it happens in comic books and video games and movies! How am I supposed to know that this isn't the same thing?"

"Well, you could reach out and touch me of course," the gymnast returned with a small laugh and roll of the eyes, shaking his head. Carlos bit his lower lip, attempting to keep blood from rushing to his face (and his crotch) from the statement and keeping his hands glued to the sides of his body. Upon noticing how hesitant the Latino was being, Logan grabbed his wrist and slowly brought the hand up to touch his chest, placing the tan skin down right over his heart. The taller boy's eyes traced back to Carlos' face, seeing and enjoying the cute look of shock and awe that adorned the raven-haired boy's features. Carlos could feel Logan's slow heartbeat pulsing underneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the thick muscle of his chest, and it took all of his willpower not to just explode into a mass of unbounded energy and gushing and 'oh my god you're so hot', among other things. He just knew one of those things was going to slip out and Logan would hate that.

The pulse also made it very obvious that this was not in fact a hologram. Or an astral projection. Or even a robot. It was the real Logan Mitchell standing in front of him.

A few minutes of silence passed, Carlos' hand still resting against Logan's chest. The only thing the gymnast did was attempt to concentrate on breathing and let the feelings sink in for his new acquaintance. The only thing the Latino did was attempt to keep his emotions in check. Both started to feel the awkward air enveloping them, and Carlos was quick to remove his hand once he noticed it.

"Sorry about that, it's just…" he trailed off, unable to think of an excuse for why he was basically groping the other boy. At least, no excuse other than 'I like touching you', which would probably just serve to make things even more awkward than they already were. "Oh my god, you're so hot…" The tan boy whispered under his breath, face paling then turning redder when he realized what he had said. 'There's the slip.'

The gymnast simply laughed again (Carlos' knees went weak at the sound), crossing his arms across his front. "It's all cool, dude. You have no idea how many people at the Olympics did exactly that." That was a lie. Logan never let anyone at the Olympics touch him like that. Hell, he never let anyone touch him like that period (other than doctors and officials that is), not even Jo or Kendall. All they got were hugs at most, and they had known him for years. There was just something special about this one college student that made the gymnast open up for some reason; whatever that reason was, he liked it. "So, great job up there, you all sounded amazing." Carlos tried but failed to stop the raging blush that came to his face. Had this been any other person praising him he'd just give a quick 'thank you' then be on his way, but this was something different. He needed a response worthy of Logan Mitchell… was there such a thing?

"Um, wow… I don't know what to say…"

"You could say 'thank you'." The Latino sighed in response.

"I know, but… you have no idea what a compliment from you means to me." It was Logan's turn to blush at that statement, the gymnast shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Sorry, that was a little creepy and gushy, wasn't it?"

"Just a bit. Now, how about sitting down for a little while? I bet all that singing made you tired." The pale boy motioned toward a nearby bench, and Carlos happily followed him over, sitting down next to his favorite athlete. Logan placed his arms to either side of his body, leaning back a bit and turning his head to look at the boy sitting next to him as Carlos asked the first question on his mind.

"Why are you here of all places? I mean, aren't you famous? Not that I don't want you here, just… why here and now?"

"I decided to come over here for our little 'intellectual talk'," came the reply, a loud yawn punctuating the statement. "I haven't had one of those for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, all of the other athletes either had a head full of sand or didn't speak English," Logan chuckled, watching as Carlos blushed once again upon hearing the sound. He laughed back to the brunet.

"Oh, right…" His voice trailed off. Logan was quick to change the subject after that response, sensing an oncoming awkward silence if that same conversation were to continue.

"So, as I said before, that was a really great performance that you and your friends put on. You're all very talented."

"Thanks."

Sadly, the subject change didn't manage to allow the two to avoid that silence. Seconds passed. Then minutes. The two just sat quietly. Logan looked to the sky, trying to come up with more discussion topics as Carlos stared at the ground, still trying hard to keep himself from gushing… too much.

"So why exactly are you guys putting on this concert?" Logan broke the silence with the best question he could think up.

"Oh y'know… for fun…draising. See what I did there?" The gymnast's eyebrow tipped up when he saw the joking expression that the boy sitting next to him was wearing. Carlos' little quirks were amusing… and cute.

"What for?" The Latino turned to fully face him.

"My friend James. He was the one playing the bass for that song. Since he's a music major he's trying to get his name out there, so we're attempting to buy time at clubs and bars and other places, but we don't exactly have much money. This is really the most cost effective thing that we can do since everything belongs to Mr. Rocque and is essentially free."

"Mr. Rocque?"

"Music teacher."

"Ah." Logan yawned again, lips forming into a smirk afterwards. He was damn tired, but this conversation meant too much to him to end now because of sleep deprivation. "So let me get this straight. This entire concert is just a large scale busking operation?" Carlos paused to think for a second, staring the smiling gymnast right in his brown eyes. Running the thought over in his head, he realized that they really were doing just what Logan had said, placing a hand on his forehead and sighing.

"I guess that you could say that."

The two continued to talk for a short time, the conversation flowing smoothly from the performance to interests, from interests to video games, from video games to TV shows, and from TV shows to food. Or at least, only kind of smoothly since the two had their share of silences in between each subject. The food topic sprouted the restaurant topic, which easily caught a large amount of attention. Carlos swore that the brunet sitting next to him was asking him on a date as soon as the sentence "So do you know any good restaurants around here?" came out of his mouth. Or at least, he really hoped that it was a date invitation. That thought made him cry from joy internally, but he just showed a smile on the outside.

"Well, there's an area called Westwood only about 10 minutes away, and that has a bunch of restaurants. If you want, I could show you around after we're done with our second song," the Latino offered, seeing the gymnast smile back and nod.

"Sounds great to me, and I can't wait to hear you guys go again. You had better get back, I bet they're wondering where you went."

"Right. Well, it was nice talking to you Mr. Mitchell, and—"

"Logan."

"…what?"

"Call me Logan, not Mr. Mitchell. That's too professional for my tastes." Carlos blushed heavily at that. He didn't think that someone so… famous… would be comfortable with everyone just calling him by his first name. So he let that news anchor do it too, but it's not like she was some random college student in Los Angeles.

"Okay… Logan… I guess I'll talk to you again in about 20 minutes." Logan put on his now signature half-smile, waving to the Latino as he disappeared through the stage door once more. So he had asked Carlos on a date, and the boy had accepted. Lucky him, he had a dinner date for the first time ever with someone he genuinely liked. Now he just had to hope that he could spend as much time with his date as possible before falling asleep or having to race home to meet Kendall.

The gymnast sighed. Kendall. Hopefully his manager hadn't yet come back to the small beach house and found it empty except for one very easily excitable dog. If he had, he'd be beyond mad. But if he hadn't, the blond never needed to find out. Yawning once more, the gymnast stood and walked back around toward the front of the stage, hoping to witness another wonderful performance from the boy he now considered his number one fan.


Kendall walked into his small apartment, exhausted from his day so far and sighing as he placed down his briefcase and threw his keys down on the counter nearby. He took a deep breath, the familiar scent of his home's not-so-fresh air greeting him and calming him down. Stalking over to the small armchair in front of his television, he turned the device on to find a Minnesota Wild game on, and he smiled as he watched the large men on screen crush each other to the walls. TV always helped him fall asleep. Eyelids drooped, and he began to slip off into unconsciousness, thinking about the past few hours.

The blond had no doubts that Logan "snuck out" as soon as he left; the gymnast was probably headed to UCLA to find that Carlos kid. Kendall definitely shouldn't have left him alone, but the manager was sleepy from jetlag, he had paperwork to do, and he had just gotten tired of the brunet's whining about the subject. All morning it had been "But Kendall, I feel fine" even though the blond knew that Logan was not awake enough to really do anything by himself, and Logan was stubborn so he wouldn't ask for help or anything like that.

That's when a wave of fear washed over Kendall, all semblance of fatigue disappearing. Logan's house was at least 10 minutes away from UCLA, meaning that the gymnast had to drive to get there. And driving after having not slept for 27 hours usually didn't turn out so well. The blond was running on 4 hours of forced sleep from the plane ride home, but at least that allowed him to function almost completely. "Ugh, for a guy with such a big brain he's such an idiot sometimes," he muttered quietly to himself as he grabbed his keys from the counter once again and literally ran out to his car. Shoving the key in the ignition, he sighed loudly. 'UCLA, here I come,' he thought as the engine roared to life, slowly backing the car out and heading to the highway.


The stage door swung open and shut, everyone turning to look at the flushed Latino as he re-entered the area. The tips of Jett's mouth turned upward in a cynical smirk.

"What, is your boyfriend here papi?" The brunet laughed loudly for a short time before seeing the death glare that James was shooting him. "It was a fucking joke, jeez. Don't get your panties in a knot, pretty boy."

"Jett, why don't you go check wiring? Don't want those e-drums messing up while we play." Hazel eyes stared him down, the statement being more of an order than a question. The actor's smirk faded as he turned and stepped up a few risers to go over his wiring job for what was probably the fifth time. Meanwhile, James turned to the others, waving them off to do their own jobs for setup of the second song as he walked toward Carlos. He leaned down to be on level with the Latino's eyes. "So?"

"…so what?" The taller boy sighed, standing back up to full height.

"You know what I'm talking about! So was it him?"

"Was it who?" James put a hand to his forehead, taking a deep breath. His roommate was definitely just playing dumb this time, there was no way he couldn't know what they were talking about.

"Stop being an idiot. What happened out there?" The tan boy stayed silent for a few seconds before launching into a detailed description of how he had just met Logan Mitchell, and how they had talked, and how it was awkward because Carlos kept having to control his gushing, and how Logan was ridiculously hot, and how… the list just went on and on, the brunet trying to follow the rapidly speaking Latino's thought pattern. Eventually the effort became too much and James clapped his hand over Carlos' mouth.

"Okay, that's enough detail of that. We gotta get ready to play again, did you get anything to drink while you were out there?"

"I was supposed to?" James groaned loudly. Scratch the idea that he didn't think that the Latino could possibly be too dumb. Placing his hands on the shorter boy's shoulders, James stared down at him.

"Just grab a water bottle from the bin right outside the door. Take a few gulps and then you need to start warming up, we go on in ten." The tan boy nodded.

"Right."

"And don't be nervous, you sounded great for the first song, you'll sound great for this one, and Mr. Mitchell is—"

"Logan." James quickly grew confused by the interruption.

"…what?"

"He said call him Logan, he doesn't like being called 'Mr. Mitchell."

"O…kay. So Logan is going to enjoy it thoroughly. Now, go get some water and then get ready to 'fucking kill this bitch,' as you phrase it." Carlos smiled.

"Sure thing."


A/N: So I'm sure you all hate me for making you wait this long for an update. I just want to let you know I'm sorry for this being so late and I'm furious with myself about how Dreamscape is going. I suck at writing sex. I'm great with the cuddling and the kissing and all that because me and my boyfriend are really involved with that, but sex isn't something that I know at all, and reading it somehow isn't helping with writing it.

Anyways, off that subject. I really hope that this isn't crappy or too short because it seems like it to me. Anyways, please review, I'm working overtime on Dreamscape for you all and I'll try to have the next chapter of this up sometime this week or next weekend. Till next time (which hopefully isn't as far away as this time was), have a great one everybody!