Logan maneuvered his leg under himself so he could sit on it, trying his best to not get too comfortable in the older man's beautiful home. He figured if he sat awkwardly, maybe some of the intimacy of the meeting would be easy to ignore.

His plan failed miserably.

"I didn't expect you to come so dressed up Logan," Mr. Griffin said, entering the room with two wine glasses in his hands, "I would have tried to look better myself."

The brunette had the sneaking suspicion that that wasn't a genuine sentiment; Arthur looked absolutely amazing. Everything about him was just right.

The way his pants fit slim against his legs without hugging it too tightly or the way the blue and gray sweater complimented the black shirt underneath it. His hair was placed perfectly and his shows screamed wealth, their expensive Italian origins being painfully obvious to the doe-eyed boy.

Something about Mr. Griffin oozed classiness, whether it was intentional or not and it was oddly attractive to Logan. After years of sleeping with sleazy young guys with low riding pants or wild, unkempt hair, it was nice for him to feel the affection of someone the complete opposite.

But there was still something about the older man which made the brunette so uneasy around him. He couldn't tell if it was the way the man stared at him or his touchy nature, but there was something that made him cautious.

"You look great Mr. Griffin-,"

"Arthur,"

"Arthur," the brunette continued what he had meant to say after the interruption, "I'm the one who's dressed down."

It was true, Logan was extremely undressed for their date if you could call it that; clad in skin tight black jeans and an old pink long sleeve shirt that went far past his hands, he was an odd sight. He didn't realize how formal Arthur would be or how nice his house would look.

He expected a messy condo with huge windows overlooking the dazzling city. A place where lavish parties would parade through its halls with easy. He imagined pristine tile floors and obnoxious white lights that erased everyone's imperfections because of its overwhelming display of brightness.

A young guy in a long sleeved pink shirt and skinny jeans would fit into such a modern home like that with ease; hell it would be believable to even say he lived there.

And yet here the doe-eyed teen was, sitting on a plush couch in the man's beautiful vintage home with large wooden walls and a high staircase which revealed its semi-hidden second floor. It looked like something out of another era entirely which made it all the grander to Logan.

It fit the older man who inhabited it in every way with its classy interior and its older aura, and like the older man, it's very mysterious nature. It resembled its owner, there was something about the house that was off as if, if someone were to travel in further they would find things they didn't want in the first place.

Or maybe Logan was just reading into things too much.

That was always a possibility.

"Impressed by the house?" the older man cut in, taking a seat next to Logan after standing for so long.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the brunette responded, rather embarrassed that he'd been caught examining the place, "It's just, it's very different from what I expected."

"Honestly it's different from how I'd like it to be," Arthur began, his smile appearing and calming Logan immensely, "or probably need it to be, but there are too many memories here for me just to leave and get rid of it."

The pale boy took a drink from the glass, finding the sprite he'd asked for that was now residing in the wine glass to have a bizarre flavor but he wrote it off because he hadn't had real sprite in years. Usually he bought off-brand sprite for himself because it was cheaper, so he reasoned that maybe that's why it seemed different.

That had to be the reason, simple as that.

Logan looked up and returned the man's smile, deciding that there was no reason to not trust the older man. Honestly, he was starting to get frustrated with his own feelings about him; it was rather ungrateful of the brunette to suspect something so bad of the man just because he was a bit more intrusive then he was used to. Mr. Griffin was from a different generation, he probably didn't realize that the things he was doing would be considered too much in the first place.

Arthur had been nothing but kind to Logan and this was how he was repaying the man's generosity; how rude.

"If you don't mind," Logan said, his smile still highlighting his lithe lips, "could you tell me what you mean? I'm sorry, I'm just really curious."

"It's a long story; I don't think you'd care to listen,"

"But I would," the brunette decided to try to make the older man feel more comfortable in his presence, the same way Arthur had been doing for him, and so he took his hand and caressed Mr. Griffin's palm softly, "unless it would be too much of a bother; I understand if you don't feel comfortable telling me."

"Of course not Logan," the older man's smile returned even bigger, clearly he enjoyed Logan's new found efforts, "well I guess I should start from the beginning then shouldn't I."

Logan giggled in response, his flirty nature taking over his usually neutral demeanor; at any other time, he would never tolerate such vapid behavior, but again the older man had disarmed him and this persona was taking over his actions.

There was really no rational reason for it, but something in the air – or so he had assumed – had driven him to react to Arthur's advances much more openly.

"I usually don't like when people are so giggly, but it fits you," Griffin continued even though he was breaking the story he was supposed to be explaining, "you're really pretty when you giggle."

This simply made the doe-eyed teen giggle more, his thoughts getting slightly more blurred as time continued passing.

This was clearly a sign that he hadn't been sleeping enough lately, which honestly he hadn't. He couldn't deny the truth. Damn himself for avoiding something he'd need so much in this moment.

This is all that was.

"You flatter me too much Arthur," his smile continued to occupy his lips, "anyways though, you still haven't explained what you meant about the house."

"Well, if I was going to start anywhere, I guess the place would be about thirty years ago when I was twenty-two," Mr. Griffin looked up and took in the brunette's amused smirk, "and no laughing at my age; fifty is the new twenty-five."

"But you're fifty-two,"

"Minute details,"

They shared more laughter before the older man rapped his arm around Logan's shoulder; surprising, even to the brunette, was that Logan's immediate reaction was not to fight back against the gesture. Traditionally this kind of thing would make him extremely uncomfortable, but right now all it was doing was making him feel even more welcome.

"Continue good sir," Logan mused, taking in Arthur's musky scent as he moved closer.

"Well I met her for the first time when I was twenty-two at a staff meeting and I was completely stunned when I first laid eyes on her. Usually, I'd never be attracted to someone like her, but the minute I saw Anne dominate the room the way she did, I couldn't take my eyes off of her."

"What did anne look like?" the brunette questioned, doing his best to form a mental picture of this woman that the story seemed to focus on.

"Short brown hair, big brown eyes, full pouty lips; she was much shorter than myself, which usually wasn't something I was drawn too, but what made me like her more was her personality."

"That's such a cliché," Logan inserted; normally he'd never be so forward but with this new persona came his slow loss of his brain-to-mouth filter it seemed.

"I know, I know," the older man chuckled, delighting the doe-eyed teen that he hadn't insulted the man after his statement, "but it's true with her; I was so used to such submissive people and then out of nowere, I meet the new consultant for the image department and I couldn't help but being drawn to her. In everything she did, she seemed to have a crystal clear vision of what she intended and it transitioned to her job perfectly.

"I guess in a lot of ways I thought she was perfect. And if you had asked me I would have also said our relationship together was perfect. We were both powerful, strong willed people, but together we made exceptions; together we were different and it was so wonderful to finally have someone to challenge me in such a way.

"But things were different for her I guess; it wasn't till later did I realize just how much she'd hate compromising like that. How much she hated giving up just because we were married."

"You were married?" yet again the brunette cut in, and yet again he didn't mean to.

"Hell, I left that detail out didn't I," Mr. Griffin chuckled, taking a glance over the teen next to him, "Two years after we met, we got married; it was a huge ceremony like she wanted. I would have given her anything she wanted and we definitely had the money for it. Nothing could stop us, honestly, or it felt like.

"Over the next decade or so the romance kind of fizzled out, for her more than me really but I couldn't deny that things had changed. I felt more comfortable to be flirty with other people as the years went on, and whenever she'd get angry about it I'd remind her that it was just my personality. I'd always make sure she knew I would never act on it.

"I loved her too much to act on it. Then about ten or so years ago, I found out the feeling wasn't mutual. She'd had an affair with a younger man and even though it hurt immensely, I wasn't ready to let Anne go. And so I asked her to choose, and in the end she chose neither of us. She left the state. I got the divorce papers a few months later. Apparently she had transferred to the New York branch of the label.

"I considered leaving this house because it reminds me too much of her, but when I tried, it hurt too much to acknowledge letting her go like that. We built it together and it had taken a personality of its own really; she had such a distinct taste for everything to be so antique and dignified, I had grown utterly used to it. I couldn't imagine rebuilding somewhere else. So instead I stayed.

And that's the story of why this house is the way it is."

"Wow that's …" Logan let the word's swim around in the air, trying to find an appropriate reaction to the deep and dark tale which Arthur wove.

"You don't have to say anything," he said, the bright shine of his smile from earlier being replaced by an empty look on his face, "I mean what would you say if you could."

Still, he searched his fuzzy head for a response, but nothing drew to mind so he tried comforting in an alternative way; Logan leaned upwards, extending himself till he was at the older man's cheek so he planted a soft kiss on his warm face.

"I'm sorry Mr. Griffin," he finally whispered, before getting closer, "it sounds like she doesn't deserve someone as good as you."

"As good as me?" He said dryly, "she deserved better. I wasn't good enough for her. She deserved someone so much better than me; I had put her through hell for so long. I was so indecisive and even though I wanted her, I had so much trouble showing her. I couldn't blame her for finally giving up and starting up with someone else and I definitely can't blame her for leaving.

"I loved her so much, but I knew that the way I would flirt or stay out late at night would drive her insane; I never once acted on my desires in those situations, but the fact that those desires existed was what crushed her so much. What forced her to resent me, and our relationship, and in the end our time together as a whole.

"I always felt like I was doing my best, I was forcing myself out of my comfort zone and yet it was never enough for her. I took for granted how she felt because I was so aware that my feelings were intense and I just assumed that she would get it.

Don't be like me Logan; don't take for granted the care people show for you because at one point, that care stops. It only takes a little pressure to destroy something like that. Don't make my mistakes."

Logan could only manage an "Oh," because finally, someone told him what he had longed to hear for so long. Mr. Griffin hadn't meant to, but he had made the brunette realize what he felt for Kendall.

His emotions for the blonde had always been so intense and confusing and while he didn't want to be possessed by the pop star, clearly he had felt Kendall was his in the first place.

It was just starting to dawn on him that maybe the blonde hadn't realized just how strong his emotions were; Logan was much better at hiding things then he meant to be at times, he had heard that critique from Carlos constantly.

Fuck his reservations.

Fuck his fears.

Fuck everything stand in his way.

Because finally, Logan had realized that Kendall was his. He was Kendall's. And even sitting on that couch in the moment was starting to feel wrong.

"You look a lot like her," Arthur disturbed his excited thoughts, reminding the brunette that he was still there, "I think it's why I feel drawn to you Logan. Maybe her personality was stronger, but she was caring like you are too."

"Thank you Arthur," he chimed, still not fully paying attention to the man while he continued building himself up on his feelings for the blonde.

"She was beautiful too. So are you. You're so, so beautiful Logan," he continued, pulling Logan closer, his hot breath now invading the brunette's cheek, "everything about you is just … perfection. I must admit, I'm rather engulfed in just taking in your ravishing features. You're so unique."

He felt the man tighten his grip around Logan.

"I love uniqueness," finally the older male revealed his full intentions, the lustful look in his features erasing his two previous expressions of either happiness or emptiness.

This was something new.

And if Logan weren't still feeling so off kilter, he might actually be frightened.

But instead he stayed aloof, his thoughts playing our every gorgeous moment he'd shared with Kendall; he had made the decision that he didn't care if Veronica was there. Because … and he knew it was wrong to think this way but fuck what was wrong too … she would never share with the blonde what he had.

She'd most likely never feel the same emotions so vividly and no matter what she claimed, he knew he meant more. If he was just the pop star's quick trick, then why was Kendall chasing him so vehemently?

The threat he felt while thinking of Veronica all but vanished.

Fuck Veronica.

Because Kendall was his. Plain and simple.

In all his thought, he didn't realize just how close the older man had gotten to him nor did he realize the man's wandering hands. And he definitely didn't realize the hot breath that was now moisturizing his soft neck.

"Stay the night Logan," Mr. Griffin moaned, putting pressure on the brunette's body to lay down; without a fight, the brunette easily complied.

"I don't think I should Arthur," the doe-eyed teen mumbled, but he couldn't keep himself from giggling when he felt the older man push onto him and begin kissing his neck.

"See beautiful," the older man cooed, petting Logan's cheek softly, "you like when I kiss you; stay. Just for tonight. Take my mind off of things and let me just focus on you."

His invasive hand traveled from the cheek on his face down to the cheek of Logan's bum, roughly kneading the ample area with lustful hunger.

"Mr. Griffin, I really shouldn't," the brunette responded, still not yet fighting the man's actions, "I need to go see someone."

"You can see someone in the morning," he retorted, his teething on the brunette's neck creating a bright new hickey, "but tonight be mine."

"Please Mister," Logan moaned, trying not to enjoy the sensation, "Please, I really need to see someone."

"No," he said firmly, starting to tug on his own clothing, "you're staying the night. It's final gorgeous."

"Arthur," he squeaked, "Stop."

Finally, Logan started struggling, attempting to push the older man off even though his strength felt almost entirely depleted.

"I can't," he whispered back into Logan's ear, forcing his own body onto the brunette's more.

"Goddamnit," he seethed, "I said let me go Arthur. I don't want this; I said stop."

With every last bit of strength he had, he shoved the older man, forcing him off while he struggled to wriggle out from under him.

Mr. Griffin came back with a vengence, his open hand making contact with Logan's cheek only moments later, slapping the teen back down so that he would land with his back to the couch again.

"But you do want this," he growled, keeping the younger down, "You don't want to be let go; you want to be right here and you want to let Arthur make you his. If only for tonight."

He smashed his thin lips into Logan's and demanded entry into his mouth, and with tears starting to swim into his eyes, Logan allowed.

He knew what this meant.

He knew exactly what was happening.

In years of being a hooker, he'd done so many morally questionable things and had even more done to him.

But every single one had had his consent.

This was different though.

Arthur had no consent.

Logan had demanded the older man to stop and he returned the request with abuse.

This was the first time this kind of thing had ever happened.

This was the first time Logan had ever been raped.