“Come on, Lo! One hour.”
“Wow, one hour?”
“They just can’t resist this.” Derek waved a hand over himself and grinned; Logan rolled his eyes and turned back to staring out the window. “You’ll have fun, it’s in Lima, and there’ll be guys you can fuck and never see again.”
Logan arched an eyebrow as he saw Kurt and Blaine hugging in the courtyard.
“Hey, handsome. Want to dance?”
Logan turned and looked down at a petite redhead pressing up against him, she wore a slinky black dress and her bright green eyes were hazed over, probably drunk.
“No thanks.” He yelled over the loud music and she pouted.
“Aw, come on,” She ran a hand down his chest and she started to remind Logan of a parasite, attaching herself to his side as she jumped up on her heels and brushed her lips against his ear. “One dance?”
“I said no thanks.” Logan glared pointedly at her as he stepped away and took a sip of his drink, settling into the slight buzz of the alcohol.
She ran a hand down his arm, caressing the slightly tensed muscles and Logan calmly pulled away just as a tall, beefy jock stormed over, yanking the redhead away from Logan.
“Who the hell are you?” He sneered and Logan closed his eyes.
Fighting for control, against the anger that was only strengthened by the alcohol.
“I’m talking to you, asshole.” The beefy brunette got up in Logan’s face and jabbed his chest. “You talking to my girl?”
He opened his eyes and the bright green stood out even in the dimly lit club, Logan’s hand shot out and fisted in his tight striped shirt, picking him up and throwing him into the mass of gyrating bodies that was referred to as the dance floor. Though Logan didn’t really see it as dancing per say, more like spastic flailing and the occasional grinding.
The ‘boyfriend’ lunged at him and Logan punched his jaw, turning back to his drink as he fell back onto the floor. Logan tipped his head back and poured the burning liquid down his throat, satisfied; he spun around just in time to dodge a shaky fist.
“That all you got?”
Logan rolled his eyes and he tensed as he ran at Logan again.
“Hello Bryn.” An amused voice rang out over the din.
Both boys spun around, staring at a boy leaning against the bar, another man had his arm wrapped around his waist and he pulled away as Logan and Bryn turned their attention to him. He wore a fitting white shirt and tight, low slung jeans.
“And Mr. Wright.” He saluted Logan.
“Whoever you want me to be…”
“What the hell?” Logan muttered as he practically sashayed forward and stood directly in front of Bryn.
“Now, now Bryn.” He shook his finger and a smile lit up his face. “We don’t want our little secret to get out, do we?”
Only Logan was within earshot as Bryn scowled and his smile grew brighter.
“Good boy.” He turned around to face Logan, his slender fingers encircling Logan’s wrist and pulling him away. “Come along, your majesty. This is getting boring. Let’s dance!”
Logan started to protest until he pulled Logan onto the dance floor and turned around, his hands on Logan’s hips, pressing them together as he swung them to the beat of the pounding music.
“You know, if I keep saving your ass, I’m going to have to start charging.”
Logan laughed, a real one, and spun him around, instinctively wrapping his arms around his slim hips. He surprised Logan, once again, by wrapping his arm up and around his neck and grinding against him. Humming in approval as Logan rocked his hips back and forth and as his warm breath ghosted over his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
Logan let himself go, allowing himself to get carried away with the music and with the mysterious boy he was dancing with.
And for the first time in a long time, it actually felt right.
“So what was that ‘little secret’ between you and the douche bag from the club?”
Logan asked, his lips at his ear as they drove past Dobry Hall. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and had given it to Logan. Who, with much protest, reluctantly took it. Derek had left the club with his girlfriend and this…stranger had offered Logan a ride back to Dalton.
He still didn’t know his name.
Logan nodded, and he laughed, throwing his head back slightly and causing the motorbike to swerve. Logan instantly tightened his grip around his waist, his hands flat against his hips, brushing the warm skin underneath.
Logan frowned and yelled over the wind.
“Are you crazy?! Keep your eyes-“
“On the road, yeah, yeah, I know.” He grinned and shifted, his shirt rising and Logan’s hands now fully pressed against his sharp hips. Logan flicked them and smiled when he yelped, reminding him to answer the question.
“He really doesn’t matter, now does he?”
Logan tried to clear his head as he laughed, his muscles tensing under Logan’s hands as he chuckled.
He could barely remember the last time he felt this comfortable around anyone.
Blaine and Joshua…all the happy memories were tainted with hurt and it made Logan’s gut twist as he continued to think about it.
As did Kurt.
Hell, he didn’t even share these memories with Kurt; to Kurt they were just moments. Fleeting and definitely not as precious to Kurt as they were to Logan.
Moments where Logan actually felt something.
No one understood what it was like to be numb, hazy, almost…gone.
Logan stared at the back of the stranger’s head, yet for some odd reason he could actually make Logan laugh when all he really wanted was to pummel that guy back at the club. And Logan wanted to be around him.
It felt surprisingly good.
Maybe because they hadn’t fucked, though the way he acted, made Logan feel like they had.
Logan felt a sudden tug and the motorcycle jerked onto the path towards the open gate and swerved to a stop as Logan nearly fell off the back.
He whipped around and swung Logan back up, their chests pressed together and Logan’s breath hitched as his eyes widened. He quietly panted from the exertion of having to support Logan and his eyes dropped to Logan’s lips.
I don’t…No, I don’t even know his name…
He does have a pretty mouth though.
“What did you drink?” He wrinkled his nose and playfully shoved Logan away, tearing his gaze away from the blonde. The look on his face was a mixture of confusion, embarrassment and laughter.
Logan stood, momentarily stunned, and then grumbled incoherently.
Logan’s eyes grazed his figure and the blonde smirked appreciatively.
Anything that could temporarily get his mind off Kurt was worth taking the chance. So why not?
Besides…he’s easy on the eyes.
He grinned and slid a leg over the motorcycle. “Well, farewell, your majesty.”
Logan thought back on when they last said goodbye.
“Will I ever see you again?”
“For your sake, I hope not.”
And look at where they were now.
And the idea that had flitted across Logan’s mind was sticking and the more he thought about it the more he liked it.
A guy that, for now, could distract him from Kurt.
Not an emotionless fuck, but not necessarily anything more than a good distraction.
Logan rested a hand on the handlebar and leaned in, perfectly aware of how good he looked and how close he was, his bright green eyes smoldering as he asked.
“Go to dinner with me, tomorrow?”
A look of surprise and shock crossed his handsome features. His sepia eyes widened slightly before he resumed his trademark devil may care smirk. “You’re drunk.”
“Your point being?” Logan raised an eyebrow and moved slightly closer. He had to tip his head back slightly and he continued to smirk.
“You don’t even know my name.”
“So, am I going to have to wait till you say yes or until you finish coming up with excuses?”
He almost sneered but his eyes were bright and smiling as he pushed Logan away.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”
“Oh, on numerous occasions, take my dad for-“
He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Enough with this ‘political family drama’.”
Logan’s confidence wavered for a moment; normally it didn’t take this long for someone to answer, to him at least.
Except Blaine, but he was nothing like Blaine.
And he would never mean that much to Logan.
He snapped his fingers in front of Logan’s face, noticing the slightly concerned look on Logan’s face. “Are you really that used to guys just throwing themselves at your feet?”
Logan merely smirked in response and then asked. “So, what is your name?”
His raised eyebrow conveyed his understanding.
Logan got his name, it was a date.
Logan didn’t; it would definitely be the last time they ever saw each other.
For some strange reason, that prospect almost saddened Logan.
It’s just the fucking rum.
He tipped his head to the side, a smile lighting up his face. And, for a moment, a very brief moment, Logan actually felt his heart skip a beat.
He absentmindedly pushed the feeling away with the same excuse.
He looked away and put his helmet on; about to turn away he waved at Logan over his shoulder.
Logan didn’t like the creeping feeling of disappointment that twisted his gut.
After all, he didn’t actually know him.
Logan sighed in frustration, he hated when drinking made him attached, though it always faded the next morning.
And suddenly he threw something towards Logan and Logan barely managed to catch it, the object nearly slipping through his fingers.
The motorcycle tore along the road and Logan turned his phone around in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out when he had taken Logan’s phone.
And when did he have the time to put his name and number in it?
Logan smiled slyly as he turned to walk back to Stuart.
Unless he had put it in before they had even left the club.
Logan whispered his name into the darkness and liked the way it rolled off his tongue, his hands in his pockets as his smile grew. Not caring right now that his thoughts seemed to not make any sense, he felt good, and whether it was the alcohol talking or not, it didn’t matter.
He had a distraction from it all.