Billy was taking the roads slowly—the damage to the inner workings of the bus had been minimal, but he was still worried, and in any case the roads were icy enough to put any driver on edge. They wouldn't reach Detroit until the next day, even driving through the night like Billy planned. Natalie was wondering if they shouldn't just skip Detroit and head on to Columbus early for the next show, but it was late and Gustavo wasn't answering his cell.

Kendall and Carlos were sacked out in their bunks, and Logan was fighting drowsiness himself. The shoveling had taken it out of all of them, but he and James had made coffee when they boarded the bus and the hit of caffeine had helped.

"They're dead to the world," James observed, leaning against the wall to regard their sleeping bandmates who hadn't even bothered to pull the curtains on their bunks. He cupped his steaming coffee mug in both hands.

Logan hummed an agreement, not really listening as he rolled his shoulders and debated the sanitation of putting his feet up on the breakfast table. He arched and his back cracked alarmingly. "I am so sore," he whined.

James huffed a laugh, coming to stand behind him. "A little snow shoveling too much for you? LA's made you soft." His hands were on Logan's shoulders, though, massaging, so any snappy comeback Logan might have had was lost in a deep sigh. He felt the tension bleed out into James' strong, heavy hands working up and down his back. Suddenly there was light pressure on the back of his head, and James' warm breath in his hair. He startled, turning to meet James' embarrassed gaze.

Something warm expanded through his chest and, sanitation be damned, he hoisted himself up onto the table and pulled James between his legs. Their lips met softly and James dropped his hands to Logan's hips. Logan slipped his tongue into James' mouth and curled it with James'. He tasted like coffee, but Logan probably did too.

"Remind me again why we weren't doing this before," James said after a moment.

"We were just fuck buddies," Logan replied, threading the short hair at the base of James' neck through his fingers.

"Fuck buddies kiss," James protested.

"Good for them," Logan said cagily, and James worked his thumbs under the hem of Logan's shirt.

"But we're not fuck buddies," James said, and Logan thought there might have been a bit of a question in his voice.

"No," he replied. "Not anymore."

James kissed him then, and ground against him suggestively. "We have lube now…" He trailed off and quirked an eyebrow.

Logan willingly allowed himself to be pulled in the direction of James' bunk to fetch the lube, sorely missed those past few days. James crouched down to shake the bottle out of the toe of a sneaker. "Out of curiosity," he began, still at eye-level with the pillow, "are we exclusive?"

Logan shifted and bit back his immediate yes in favor of a better question. "Out of curiosity, have we ever been anything but?" For Logan himself, there'd never been anyone but James while they'd been fooling around.

James' fist clenched around the bottle and when he stood back up, he was beet red. "No," he muttered. Logan let out a surprised, delighted laugh. "Shh!" James hissed, hauling him towards the bathroom. They spoke in whispers, neither wanting to take the risk of waking the other two.

"Really? Not once in—what—six months?" Logan couldn't get over it.

"Shut up," James retorted, closing the door. The cubby was barely large enough for the two of them to stand comfortably. They had more room if they opened the tiny shower, so James did so. "If it weren't for me, you'd still be a virgin."

Logan had no return for that; it was unfortunately true. "Too much talking," he said instead, pulling his shirt over his head and undoing his belt. James batted his hands away and hooked his thumbs into Logan's beltloops, tugging him close. He made quick work of Logan's button and fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down, dropping to his knees as he did so, feet in the shower.

Logan tipped his head back and bit his lip when James pulled him into his mouth and began to suck immediately. It was all kinds of wonderful and over far too soon as James pulled off and tapped the back of his calf to get him to raise a leg. Logan did so and James tugged his pants off of one leg and then the other.

"How do you want this?" James asked, standing to undo his own pants.

Logan looked away. Usually he'd say something like 'I'll bottom' or 'let's do this fast,' but that was before. "I want you to fuck me," he finally said. "Face to face," and it felt as if he were exposing something that wanted to stay hidden.

James' mouth opened and his eyelids lowered with lust. "That'll be hard to manage in here. Wish we had a bed again."

"I have ideas," Logan assured him. James flipped the cap on the lube and squirted a quarter-sized dollop into his palm. The bottle made a loud squelching noise and they both laughed. "That was hot," Logan said with a snort.

"So are you," James replied, and Logan decided he was being serious. He stepped closer and wound his arms around James' neck, partly for the contact and partly because he knew he'd need a bit of support in a moment. James wriggled his own pants around his knees with the help of his dry hand to free his cock and let it rub against Logan's. Logan sighed and kissed James lightly when James' fingers finally found their way inside him, but he couldn't keep it up long—he was quickly clutching James for support and muffling his cries against James' neck. Truth be told he enjoyed being fingered more than he enjoyed being fucked, but it wasn't like he would complain either way.

Logan whined in protest when James pulled his fingers free. James chuckled, then stilled. "Shit. Forgot the condom. The box is out there in my bag."

Logan smacked him on the shoulder. "Hurry up." James wiped his fingers on a paper towel and hiked his pants back up before squeezing around Logan, unlatching the door, and slipping out into the dark bunk hall beyond.

He was back within thirty seconds, condom in hand. "Honestly. It's a miracle we ever get to have sex at all," Logan muttered, taking the condom to peel back the foil while James kicked his pants off. "Sit here," Logan ordered, pointing to the toilet that took up a third of the walking space in the bathroom. James looked at him in confusion. Logan only smiled until comprehension dawned on James' face and he smirked, putting down the lid and seating himself on the cold plastic.

Logan dropped down and licked a broad stripe up the underside of James' cock and suckled the head for a moment before rolling on the condom with the ease of practice. James wordlessly handed him the lube and he slicked him up.

He planted his feet behind James' own and hovered over him. It was a little ungainly, but worth it when James tilted his head back to lock gazes with him. Logan held himself open with one hand and braced against the wall with the other, relying on James to guide himself in as he slowly lowered himself. It took a moment but soon Logan felt James start to slide home. He ducked his head to kiss James as he seated himself on his cock.

He built up a slow rhythm, raising and lowering himself and trying to keep quiet. The strain made his thighs burn. "This is a workout," he joked breathlessly. James choked down a moan, hands on Logan's hips to urge him on.

It was a powerful experience, being able to look James in the face while they fucked. They'd never done that before, opting instead for the more impersonal doggy-style. He saw every tremor and expression that flitted over James' face and knew James saw the same in his. He could probably only see exertion right now, though, as he was practically bouncing in James' lap, huffing a grunt every time he went down. The sweet pressure of James' dick rubbing against his prostate was delicious.

James was still wearing a thin knit sweater, so Logan fisted his hands in its front and brought their mouths together hard. It was sloppy and wet and perfect, and when James finally stroked his cock Logan lost all sense of rhythm and just stuttered his hips. He was filled up and James' cock was pushing against his prostate and he came in James' hand, hunched over and with his face buried in James' neck. He supposed he should be embarrassed by the high "ah-ahhh!" sound he made, but he felt too good to care.

James gave him a moment to ride out his orgasm, stroking his back until his breathing slowed, but soon he shifted his hips agitatedly. "Logan," he murmured, and Logan tried to resume his previous movements, but only got halfway up before sinking back down again—his thighs were shaking too badly.

"Sorry. Hang on, I'll blow you," he said, right in James' ear, and James inhaled deeply.

"Dirty, dirty," he said, helping to steady him as Logan eased himself off and stretched out his legs. Logan gave him a wicked grin, kneeling in front of him and waiting while James peeled off the condom and threw it away wrapped in toilet paper. Logan shoved his thighs apart and anchored James' cock with one hand while he drew it into his mouth. He did this often enough to know exactly what James liked, just the right amount of tongue and lips and a couple brushes of teeth.

It didn't take long. James warned him to pull off just before he started coming—James would swallow every time, but Logan hated it, and James respected that. Logan removed his lips and replaced them with his hand. A couple strokes later, James spurted over his stomach with a moan.

They cleaned each other up, whispering and trading kisses. James finally pulled off his sweater and Logan ran his fingers appreciatively over his perfect abs. They didn't bother with the rest of their clothes, but they did pull on their underwear because only Carlos occasionally slept in the nude and none of them needed a eyefull of anyone else's junk that early in the morning.

"What time is it?" Logan asked, fighting a yawn and losing.

James dug his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, heaped on the floor with the other garments. "Past your bedtime."

"Fuck you," Logan said amiably, leaning back against the door and smiling in a way that very clearly meant come kiss me. James obliged, and Logan hoped he never got used to how amazing it was to be pinned against a solid surface by another man and kissed within an inch of his life. "Oh my God, no round two, okay?"

"Better stop now, then," James mumbled from where he was biting his way slowly down Logan's neck.

"Mmm," Logan agreed, but it came out as a moan, so he pushed James away, stole one last quick kiss, and opened the door, bundle of clothes in hand. Now that James was no longer overwhelming all his higher brain functions, his bunk called to him like rain to a desert. His bunk was the bottom left, under Carlos'. Kendall's was across from him, with James on top of Kendall. Carlos' arm hung over the edge of his bunk and Kendall snored softly—neither had any idea what had just happened in the bathroom, as usual. Logan often wondered at his good luck to have two such oblivious bandmates.

He tossed his clothes into the corner of his bunk, vowing to deal with them in the morning, and hit the sheets, burrowing into his pillow with a moan heartfelt enough to rival the ones he'd been making a few minutes ago. James was still bustling around, no doubt putting some kind of product on his skin or face or teeth—exhaustion wasn't enough to make James Diamond skimp on his beauty ritual. The sink was still running when he finally dropped off to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

The morning dawned with the unexpected stillness of a motionless bus and the quiet of a snowy, cold landscape. Of course, the peace was fractured within seconds when the bus doors squeaked open to admit a blustering, parka-clad Gustavo.

"Up and at 'em, dogs! Go, go, go!" He yelled from the mouth of the hallway lined with their bunks. Logan suspected he would have bodily thrown them from their beds himself, but was afraid he'd get stuck in the narrow hallway. He wasn't a small man, Gustavo.

Unfortunately, what Gustavo didn't know was that Mrs. Knight had been using the same tactics on them all for nearly two years now, with similar results. Kendall groaned something unintelligible and buried himself further in his blankets. James peered out from under the mass of sheets he'd constructed around himself like a fort, blinking balefully, and Carlos didn't even move. Only Logan, who'd been up for some time, waved at him absently and turned another page of his book.

Gustavo's face reddened with annoyance. "You will get up now, get dressed, go to where your fans are gathered, and sign anything they shove at you, or I will send Kelly in here with an airhorn," he growled, enunciating every syllable.

Ah, threats. Mrs. Knight usually just started employing those right off the bat, nowadays. At least it got the other three moving, albeit slowly and with much grumbling and muttering.

They were eventually all showered, dressed, standing outside the bus, and more or less awake. Kelly pulled up in her classy hatchback and they piled in, Kendall up front and the other three in the back.

"We're doing a signing?" Kendall asked, all business.

"Yes. We want to show the fans you're here, healthy, and happy. Be happy," Kelly commanded. Kendall beamed at her sarcastically.

They pulled up around the back of the concert hall where they'd be performing that night and were escorted to a low table by a pair of coordinators. The boys seated themselves, joking, pushing, and ignoring the frankly frightening way a couple of the fans were throwing themselves against the glass of the windows all the way across the hall from them.

"Brace yourself," James whispered at him as the first of the fans dashed through the maze of cording to reach them. She stopped in front of Kendall, chest heaving.

"I—I—I just love Big Time Rush so much," she gasped.

She wasn't wearing much of anything under her unzipped coat and seemed about their age; it was lovely when their fans looked old enough that Logan didn't feel creepy checking them out. She had brought a poster to be signed and slipped Carlos her number before the line of fans finally pushed her away. Logan wished she set the tone for what they could expect from the next hour, but alas, like in every other city, their fans didn't vary much from the normal age demographic. Preteens, all of them, or even younger. Out of the whole signing, maybe a handful were older than fifteen.

They compared the phone numbers they'd collected during the signing afterwards, hanging around the greenroom eating chips and dip. As per the usual, Kendall came out ahead, with James in second place. Logan and Carlos tied for third, though usually Carlos lost. Kendall stuffed four chips into his mouth to celebrate his victory, then they ripped up the bits of paper and chucked them in the trash. It was one of the most serious rules of their label: no calling the fans. Bad press of that sort would have landed them on their asses, out of contract and career.

"Sound check in twenty, boys," Kelly called from the doorway, looking harried. There was a pen behind each ear and one in her hand. Logan decided not to say anything.

"Shoot!" James yelped, as soon as Kelly had gone. "I think I left my phone back in the auditorium. Logan, come help me look?"

"Sure," Logan said. His chair scraped across the ground as he stood up.

"Find it fast," Kendall warned, reaching for more chips.

"Want help?" Carlos asked guilelessly.

"Nah, we got it. See you soon," James said, walking out of the room. Logan hurried to catch up, matching his pace as best he could.

"You really lose it or are we just sneaking off to make out?" he asked.

James laughed at his frankness. "The latter."

"Fancy terms. The English major in me's all hot and bothered."

"Baby, you haven't seen hot and bothered yet."

"Come show me," Logan purred, feeling ridiculous but loving the effect he was having on James. His friend (boyfriend?) licked his lips, darted a look down both ends of the hallway, and pulled him into an unlocked closet.

Or, at least, what Logan thought was a closet. It was about the width of a normal janitorial closet, but was as long as the greenroom they'd just exited. A long, folded velveteen bolt of fabric lay on the ground, surrounded by ropes, pulleys, bars, and odds and ends.

"Is that a curtain?" Logan asked, momentarily distracted by his curiosity.

"For the stage? Yeah, I think it is." James wove around the various roadblocks to get to the middle of the closet, disappearing behind a tower of boxes stacked on top of the curtain. Logan followed, narrowly avoiding tripping over a punctured drum.

James grabbed for him the moment he got close enough, and they sank into a tangle of limbs onto the folded curtain, mouths attached and kissing hard enough for that detached, scholarly part of Logan's brain to wax poetic on the joys of being a hot-blooded teenager.

Logan ended up on his back, the side of his face pressed into the velvet as James sucked at his pulse point. He could smell how dusty and mothy the old curtain was from his position, but all he was really concerned about was that James never stop doing that with his tongue.

"N-no marks," he gritted out, all too aware of the sound check they'd be doing in what was now probably less than fifteen minutes.

James pressed down against him. "Can we just rub one out right now? Please?" He ground their hips together and grinned when Logan arched into the pressure.

"No," Logan said, but it was a weak protest and totally ruined by the way his hips seemed to be moving of their own accord. He freed one hand from where he'd slipped it up the back of James' jacket and fished for his phone where he'd dropped it on the ground. He shoved James off and sat up unwillingly when he saw the time.

"Sound check is in eleven minutes."

"We can come in four, tops," James insisted.

"Number one, is that really something you should be bragging about, and number two, no. I mean it. I'm not going through sound check with spunk in my pants." Logan glared until James lost his puppydog look and heaved a sigh.

"Fine," he said, sitting up and putting his back to the wall, "but I'm not going back out there with this." He gestured to the tent in his designer slacks.

Logan was hard enough to be noticeable as well, so he plopped back down next to James and knocked their shoulders together.

"Ugh," James groaned, sliding down the edge of the curtain-bench to sit on the ground. He stretched his legs out in front of him. Logan slid down next to him. James twiddled his thumbs pointedly.

"I spy with my little eye," Logan began, laughing as James butted the side of his head viciously against his collar bone and gave a "hell no." Logan expected him to straighten again, but he stayed where he was, head cushioned against Logan's neck and chest and body leaning against his own. Logan froze in surprise before cautiously bringing his left arm around James' shoulders.

From this close, James' hair smelled like nothing but Cuda products, but Logan liked it. It was a girly, expensive scent, and it suited James. They sat like that for some time, neither speaking, and when Logan pressed himself closer, he could have made an excuse like "it's cold in here," but he didn't.

Logan knew they were late for sound check, but he carefully didn't mention it until his phone beeped with a message from Kendall, wondering where they were. They reluctantly disentangled themselves and stood up, smoothing their clothes and hair. James stepped in, catching Logan by the hips and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He met Logan's eyes and gave him a shy, warm little smile, catching his hand and squeezing it once. Then he turned to go, and Logan followed him out.

Author's note:

Thank you so much for reading! I love the Big Time Rush fandom—everyone's so enthusiastic without too much of the fandom wank you find in a lot of the bigger communities. The boys are so easy to write; mostly, all I have to do is ask them, "what happens next?" I think that's because the show in general has so little angst that I'm not compelled to work through a gallon of emotional problems in the boys' psyches—they can just laugh and push and fight without having to address the deep psychological damage everyone is suffering. Consequently, I think this makes my writing style more lighthearted and less lyrical. I'm gearing up for my first foray into writing Batman fanfiction, and lemme tell you, it's a whole different ball of wax over there.

If you liked the fic, I'd really, really appreciate it if you took a moment to let me know. Reviews mean the world to me.