This took entirely too long to sit down and actually write, but this was suggested by Sergio back a few weeks ago after the ustream steak dinner thing. This is about as fluffy as I get, guys. Featuring a jealous, confused Logan.
Logan and Kendall are complicated. Well, Logan isn’t a complicated person; at least he never thought of himself that way. Kendall isn’t complicated either. He’s honest and funny and courageous as fuck and Logan doesn’t like to think about it too hard. How uncomplicated Kendall is. How easy everything is with him. How their height difference would make it simple for Logan to wrap his arms around Kendall’s middle and let the taller guy rest his chin against Logan’s temple. It’s so easy to imagine that it’s hard. Which makes it complicated. Logan and Kendall.
Logan likens it to one of those goddamn Rubik’s cubes. It’s never just black and white. Even if Logan could solve the infuriating thing, there’d still be all these other shades fucking up everything. Just when he thinks he’s got it all figured out, there’s a motherfucking square of blue marring the perfection of the green side. Then he finds a red in the white, a yellow in the orange. A bazillion different results and none of them the one Logan wants.
Which is why he tries not to think. Which is why the Rubik’s cube his mom gave him as a stocking stuffer many years ago at Christmas sits untouched more often than not. It’s in his bag though; it’s with him almost wherever he goes. Like Kendall. Like complications.
Logan knows for certain the Mitchell kid he portrays could solve the puzzle in less than a half-hour episode. Logan is almost envious of his fictional character, despite the fact the guy is a total closet/basket case. It wasn’t until Logan saw some completed episodes he realized how enamored Logan Mitchell is by Kendall Knight, his hero-worship blatant. That’s something else Logan tries not to think about, how the long looks and intimate smiles weren’t scripted. Yes, Logan is jealous of that kid. He only has to exist in twenty-three minute increments, all his real problems floating around in the realm of speculation.
So Logan isn’t thinking about why he’s so jealous when Kendall sits by James at the lunch with JoJo. He doesn’t have to think about jealousy when he feels it well enough, the sensation circulating from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet. It’s like his blood has been replaced by some kind of fire, and he feels himself charring and withering under the scrutinizing eye of the camera. It takes awhile for him to act normal.
Logan thinks he’s over it. Until afterwards when Kendall asks Logan if he’s still coming over for dinner. Logan can’t stop himself from asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to invite James?”
Kendall just snorts and smiles, not fully picking up on the hostility behind the comment. “Do you think I should? I guess we could ask Carlos too, but they’ll probably say no. Hey, I should really call Mom and ask if it’s okay before I invite them.”
“Whatever, Kendall. Look, I think I’m busy tonight,” Logan deadpans, glancing away and mumbling.
“Don’t you get it?” Logan replies, the words low and hissed through his teeth.
“Um, no?” Kendall replies, quirking a brow and throwing his hands in the air. Sometimes, Logan thinks Kendall’s cluelessness is endearing. Now is not one of those times. He stares straight at Kendall, trying his best to shoot laser beams from his eyes.
“Ohhh, yeah. I get it. You’re jealous,” Kendall says. “Tell me, Logan. Why does it matter if I sit next to James?”
Logan can’t help it; his cheeks darken and he’s suddenly feeling exposed and so angry he has the childish urge to shove Kendall and run away. It’s funny how he’s supposed to be an adult but Kendall has a way of bringing these playground antics to the surface. It’s both a good and bad thing.
“You really want to do this in public?” Logan seethes, once again scanning the crowded foyer of the restaurant he is so ready to flee.
“Do what in public? What is there to say?” Kendall presses. Logan cannot stand when Kendall gets this way. Pushy. Cocky. Overly self-assured. Such a fucking know-it-all. Passive-aggressive prick. Logan likes clueless Kendall better.
“I’m not…don’t think I’m jealous,” Logan whispers. “I mean, we’re around each other all the time, all four of us. I’m totally used to it.”
Kendall’s smile is almost feline, curling up high at the corners, his eyes glinting with a leonine spark. “So I guess I will see if James wants to come over since you don’t…” Kendall smirks, turns on his heel as though leaving.
“Shut the fuck up, dude. I’ll be there in a few hours, okay?”
Dinner is awkward. At least, Logan feels a little awkward. It’s like the weird confusion he refuses to think about is coming to a head, and he’s at this fork in the road and he has to make some sort of conscious decision. Which sucks. Because Logan would really just like to close his eyes and keep walking straight forward.
Logan packed a bag because he knows Kendall will want him to stay the night, citing the fact that they have to be in the studio tomorrow early. Really, Kendall is like this big man-child and he loves sleepovers. Not the grown-up kind either, but the kind where they play video games and write lyrics and laugh about dumb shit until the sun is coming up and they finally pass out from exhaustion as the sunshine turns Kendall’s eyes the same color as the sporadic palm trees around Los Angeles.
It doesn’t matter how much time they spend together. It’s never enough. Logan doesn’t think it’s strange, because he doesn’t think about it at all. He doesn’t think about how he spends countless nights on tour falling asleep to the cadence of Kendall’s steady breathing. He doesn’t think about how – even after all that time together – he still seeks Kendall out. Maybe if they were attached at the hip Logan would get sick of Kendall. Or maybe that still wouldn’t be enough and he’d want to crawl inside the other guy, share skin and body heat and breath.
Doesn’t matter. Logan’s not thinking about it.
After dinner, Kendall strums his guitar sitting on his bed; Logan absently stares at his friend’s fingers, attempting to catch each note and chord. They haven’t said much of anything, which Logan appreciates. Kendall always wants to talk about things. Logan not so much. To keep his hands from being too idle, Logan retrieves the Rubik’s cube from his bag, shifting the squares and colors without rhyme or reason.
Before his brain can compute what he’s doing, he speaks, his mouth wooden like he’s not even moving it by his own will. “You’re my best friend,” Logan says.
Kendall smiles, a soft lilting huff coming from between his parted lips. “Yeah, I know.”
“You could say it back.”
“There’s no need to, is there?” Kendall continues to move his fingers across the strings, watching each movement and refusing to look at Logan.
“You make me want to be a better man,” Logan says, and, wow, he should really start thinking about things if his mouth is going to run on its own accord without permission from his brain.
Kendall stops playing, moving the guitar from his lap to the bed. He looks at Logan, finally. “Dude, have you been watching Tom Cruise movies again?”
“No. I don’t know. It’s true,” Logan says, squeezing the cube in his fist until his knuckles are white. He tosses it to the floor and sighs.
“You’ll scuff my floor,” Kendall says, rising to his feet and picking up the cube, turning a few squares and doing nothing but getting farther from the solution.
Logan’s back is against the wall, his knees pulled up and feet flat on the floor. His hands rest, palms up, on his knees as he thinks of all Kendall means to him. He’s lost in it for a moment, wondering if he’d be completely aimless if they’d never met, until Kendall’s skinny legs make their way into his vision. Kendall sinks to his knees, rests them on the tops of Logan’s feet. It hurts a litte, but Logan isn’t going to deny himself any point of contact.
Kendall places the cube in one of Logan’s palms. “You do make me better,” Kendall says.
“Yes,” Kendall replies, closing Logan’s fingers around the stupid fucking cube, his hand lingering against Logan’s, all warmth and tenderness.
“Did you really kiss a girl last week?” Kendall asks.
Logan snorts. “You jealous?”
“Uh, no,” Kendall answers, his grin curling like a crescent moon, eyes lit like stars.
“I did have a scene with Erin a few days ago,” Logan answers simply.
And then Kendall’s smile is a supernova, and Logan is moving towards him at the speed of light, breathing in Kendall’s energy which rivals the sun, and it’s everything he’s ever imagined and hoped it wouldn’t be. Even though Logan closes his eyes, he’s seeing colors line up and lock in, and it doesn’t matter if there are a zillion hues in between black and white because they’re all Kendall: a yellow laugh, a blue embrace, an orange clasp of a hand, a kiss made of red like lips and love.
When they finally break apart, Kendall’s shock is only given away for a moment before he’s tracing Logan’s jaw with an index finger, memorizing his face with fingertips where Kendall has only known it with eyes previously. A breathy sound escapes his parted lips, and he gently pries the Rubik’s cube from Logan’s clasped hand.
“We can figure this out,” Kendall says, turning the cube and inspecting all its sides before giving Logan a loaded look. “If you’re ready, that is.”
“Could you, uh, kiss me again while I think it over?”
Kendall doesn’t hesitate to help Logan with his thought process.