Author's Note: So, to all of you that read "Please Don't Leave Me" I promised a prequel to it and well, here it is! It's later that I wanted and I'm super sorry for making y'all wait! Please forgive me. I hope y'all like this. Reviews are awesomesauce! :)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nada, zip, zilch, n-o-t-h-i-n-g.

James can't help it if he likes to drink when he's angry. It's a force of habit, one that he's been doing since his parents divorced years ago. He gets angry; he finds relief at the bottom of a bottle: simple as that.

But this is different. This time he's drinking because he wants to forget. He wants to forget everything about the day—hell, the entire week—and just relax for awhile. He turned his cell off before getting a taxi and basically cut himself off from anyone trying to reach him. Tonight it's all about him.

There's this cute brunette that's been hitting him up for drinks all night. Normally James wouldn't let something like that bother him, but tonight, for some reason he can't pinpoint, it does. So far he's held strong and ignored all the drinks sent his way. A few times the guy even tried to come talk to him but James took his phone out each time and pretended like he was making a call.

When he was younger, around sixteen and just figuring out he was gay, something like this would excite him. He's always been the pretty one of the group so picking up dates was never a hard task. Until Logan. When he was that young he was more concerned with figuring everything out, snagging a few dates here and there, expressing his new found sexuality. It wasn't until Logan had to bring him back to the apartment after a night of drinking that he realized that, somewhere deep down inside, he had feelings for his best friend.

And, in his drunken stupor, he spilled everything. He told Logan about the dates, the meaningless flings with random guys, the nights of drinking just to have a bit of fun. Logan scolded him and tried to get him to bed but that's when James fought back and they had their first major fight after being best friends since pre-school. Over the years they had their arguments but this time was different. James was angry and he wanted nothing more than Logan to leave him alone. That's when he kissed Logan. Anger and alcohol clouded his judgment. He thought, for one terrifying moment, that Logan was going to run away but he didn't.

Now they're here, together for five years. This time James is scared it might all go away. They got into a fight three days ago. It was stupid and something he wishes he could take back, but he can't. He hates that he let his temper get the best of him. They yelled and they screamed and at one point they were even in each other's faces. James doesn't think he's ever seen Logan get so angry.

So now, even after they apologized to each other last night, he's drinking it all away. Maybe he couldn't handle the awkwardness or maybe he just didn't want to talk anymore; either way he didn't want to be in the same room as Logan when things were still so tense.

"Hey."

James jumps, startled out of his thoughts by the guy that's been scoping him out all night. He flashes the guy a smile, vaguely taking in what the guy looks like. Brown hair, cute face, nice clothes. Nothing like Logan. The thought is there and gone in a flash. It almost scares him how little he's actually thought of Logan the entire four hours he's been here.

"Uh, hi." He swallows down the rest of his drink, trying his hardest to ignore the guy. "Can I help you?" He doesn't care how rude the question is.

"Actually, yes, you can."

James looks over at the brunette, surprised. He's staring at James with such intensity that James has to glance away for a moment.

"I have—"

"I don't care if you have a girlfriend, boyfriend, whatever. I just wanna dance, that's all." The smile James gets is flirty. "You've been sitting here blowing me off all night. One dance. Is that too much to ask for?"

Yes. "No," he replies.

He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be allowing another man to lead him to the dance floor, hand tight around his wrist, while he's angry and buzzed. But he is. He's doing it and it feels nice to be flirted with after the kind of week he's had.

"What's your name?"

It doesn't matter. "James."

"Nice to meet you, James." He smiles and sidles up close to James, one hand going to his waist, the other to his chest. Lips press against his ear, "I'm Spencer."

James tenses at the contact. He wants to push this stranger away, tell him he's taken, but he doesn't. Instead he places his hands on Spencer's waist and tugs him a little closer, a little tighter. It's then, when he's looking down at him, that James realizes why this one stuck out so much. Even if tells himself the guy is nothing like Logan, the more he stares the more he realizes that Spencer is.

Spencer's hair is spiked up in the front in that perfectly messy way; his eyes are big and brown, all doe-eyed and dreamy; his smug little grin reminds James of Logan; his style is even the same. But James has to point out all the imperfections. Spencer's eyes are big and brown and doe-eyed but they don't shine with love for James and only James. The clothes aren't tight enough in all the right places; the hair isn't the same shade as Logan's. His smile isn't nearly as bright.

James catches himself reeling forward, lips colliding with Spencer's before he can stop himself. He knows before it happens that it won't feel the same as kissing Logan, yet he's doing it anyway. He feels a spark of something that he can only explain as desire. It's been almost a week since Logan touched him, since he touched Logan. In all honesty it's driving him insane; he just wants and he wants to touch and be touched.

Spencer's hands slide into James' hair and James presses forward harder, needing more contact. He runs his tongue along Spencer's bottom lip, trying not to think about how plush Logan's lips are and how soft and perfect they feel moving with his. Spencer opens up and it's hot and frantic all of a sudden, urging James on. His fingers find purchase in Spencer's sides, clutching the fabric tightly and digging his fingers into flesh hard.

"Wanna get out of here?" Spencer asks.

James stares at him for a long minute. They've barely even danced which is what they came out here for. He's buzzed, needs something else to drink, but he nods in affirmation. Spencer smirks and takes his hand, leading him towards the exit.

Spencer waves down a taxi once they're out of the club. James is hot, his skin sticky with barely there sweat, and his heart is hammering in his chest. In the back of his mind he imagines it's pounding out cheater but he tries not to dwell on it too much. A taxi's there fast and Spencer is climbing in, looking at James expectantly.

James could back out right now. He could decline, say he's sorry, call Logan, and go home. Instead he's sliding in beside Spencer. The other boy grins and scoots close enough to touch, one hand resting on James' thigh, the other drumming out a random beat on the seat. The sound of it grates on James' nerves so he twists around enough to grasp the back of Spencer's neck and yank him into a kiss.

When Spencer moans James wishes he could block the sound out of his mind. But he can't. Everything that happens is going to be a constant reminder of who's waiting on him to get home. That should him spiraling into guilt. He's surprised to find that it doesn't. Not quite yet.

The cab stops and Spencer gets out first, James following. They're at a small house in a nice neighborhood not far from the club. James skips over the details of the place; it's not like he's going to be coming back here.

As soon as the front door is unlocked James is being dragged inside. Spencer pins him against the door, looks into his eyes, and James can feel the constant pounding rhythm of cheatercheatercheater pulsing through his veins, hot and unwanted.

But he closes his eyes and he lets Spencer unbutton his shirt slowly, lets him leave kisses along each inch of exposed skin.

He can feel guilty later.

There's an incessant beeping noise right by his ear. It's driving him insane and making the pounding in his head even worse. Groaning, James forces his eyes open only to be met with blinking red numbers.

"Turn that damn thing off," he grumbles, shoving his face into the pillow beneath his head. He breathes in deep and—

Shit.

He's back at the apartment he and Logan share. He's in their bed, complaining about their alarm clock, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and cologne. He can't remember how he got here but he's not entirely sure he wants to know.

"Logan?"

James slowly pushes himself into a sitting position. Mid-morning light shines through the blinds, and he winces when he looks straight into it. Logan has to be around here somewhere. The closet doors are open but he can't tell much about the clothes. The shower isn't running, the sink isn't on.

It's completely silent except for the alarm.

He pushes the off button a little too forcefully. But the silence is a relief to his pounding head. He sits there a moment, trying to remember how he got home. He remembers the club and the drinking and Spencer. He remembers going home with Spencer but after that everything is a blur.

"Oh good. You're awake."

James whips his head around, groaning at the pain that shoots through his head. "Logan—"

"You feeling okay?"

James notices the way Logan's words are short and clipped, his tone of voice angry. He swallows past the lump in his throat. "What time is it?" he asks quietly. He just hopes Logan doesn't ask about last night.

"Almost ten," Logan answers. James briefly closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in his temples. He has to figure this out before things get out of control. "So, James, tell me what you did last night. Anything fun?"

He winces. Logan is angry, angrier than he was when they fought. Suddenly panic settles in his chest once he realizes that Logan must know. The glare on his face would certainly justify that. Before James can open his mouth to apologize, Logan is backing out of the doorway and into the hall.

"Logan!"

Despite the ache in his limbs and the constant beat in his head, James bolts off the bed and out the door after Logan. Logan's practically running through the apartment and to the front door, keys in his clenched fist. The panic flares in James' chest.

"Logan, wait!"

Logan stops, hand on the doorknob. "James, I know what happened last night. You don't—you don't have to explain." His voice hitches on the last word. James reaches for Logan but Logan flinches away, hurt and anger making his eyes dark. "I…"

Logan is opening the door and walking out before James can even begin to explain. But he doesn't follow Logan. He lets him go, knowing Logan will come back eventually. That's how they work. When one of them gets angry enough to leave they stay gone for a few hours then come back.

Although this time James is afraid Logan might not come back.

Logan stays gone for 3 hours.

James sits on the couch and stares at the door the entire time, phone in hand, impatiently waiting. The entire time only one thing has been on his mind: How did he find out? It's killing him knowing that Logan knows what happened last night. He wants to punch a wall, scream, do something to alleviate the guilt threatening to tear him apart from the inside out.

At exactly three James' phone rings. Frantic, he punches the talk button without even bothering to see who's calling. "Logan?" The quiet chuckle on the other end doesn't belong to Logan. "What do you want?" He goes from frantic to pissed and guilty.

"Wanted to know if you'd like to go out again tonight?"

James could throttle Spencer. He could reach through the phone right now and just murder him. "You asshole. Did you tell Logan about last night? Huh?" James is on his feet yelling by now. "Because of you my boyfriend is God knows where, angry and hurt because you-"

"You've got it all wrong, James."

James stops short. Spencer scoffs.

"It's all your fault that he's gone." Before James can react he's met with a click and then silence. He pulls the phone away and stares at the screen. In the back of his head he knows that Spencer is right. It is James' fault. If he hadn't gone out last night, if he had just stayed home and went to bed angry instead of going out to get drunk; if if if.

So he sits there and he tries not to drown in his own guilt.

Ten minutes later the front door opens then closes quietly. James snaps his head up, the guilt increasing ten-fold when he sees Logan just standing there, leaning against the wall like it's the only thing that can hold him up. James stands and, a little hesitantly, makes his way towards Logan.

"Don't." Logan holds a hand up, a glare on his face. Pushing away from the wall, Logan goes straight to the kitchen where he opens a cabinet then slams it a moment later. James watches him open and close cabinets for five minutes before he finally clears his throat. Logan huffs. "Where's all the damn wine glasses? Can't a man get one glass of wine without having to go to Narnia and back?"

James doesn't question Logan's anger. If the situation were reversed he's pretty sure he would be slamming things and looking for a drink too.

"Logan, can we please just—"

"Just what, James?" Logan spins around, fire in his eyes as he stalks towards James. "Talk? Is that what you want to do? You want to talk?" Unsure of what to say, James nods. This seems to make Logan angrier. "Fine then. Talk. Tell me about how you went out last night and got drunk and went home with this Spencer guy." He says Spencer's name like it's dirty.

James hesitates before saying anything. One wrong move and Logan might go off. Or he might leave you. That thought alone has his head reeling with fright. The idea of Logan leaving him terrifies him beyond belief. He can't let one mistake ruin it all. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—but Logan continues on.

"So tell me, James. What did you and Spencer do? Make out a little, touch each other?" Logan pauses, and for a moment James can see past the anger straight to the hurt. "Did you fuck him, James? Huh?"

"Logan, you know I wouldn't do that!"

As Logan gets closer, James can see the way his hands are shaking, the rigid lines of his shoulders. He leans over James, hands braced on the back of the couch, cornering James. For a long minute Logan just stares at him. James tries to disappear into the couch but to no avail.

Logan opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He closes his eyes, hangs his head; his shoulders slump and he sighs heavily. The guilt increases times a thousand, threatening to swallow James whole by now. Hesitantly he reaches up and touches Logan's arm. It's a simple gesture that sends Logan flying backwards.

"Don't touch me," he spits out.

James stands and Logan steps back.

"Logan, please. Let's just talk."

James is desperate now. This is going downhill much too fast and he's powerless to stop it.

"No." Logan rushes past James straight for the bedroom. Panic joins the guilt as James quickly follows. This can't be good.

"What are you doing?" James asks. He hates the way his voice cracks.

Logan slings a duffel bag onto the bed, looks James straight in the eye and, expression hard, says "I'm leaving."