Original Prompt from BTR Kink Meme: We all know Logan is freaking ripped but unless you see his arms he doesn't look it. I want to see James and him going out to like a club or something and James leaving for the bathroom or something and gets followed by someone in there who's been wanting to get him alone all night. Logan goes searching when James doesn't come back and finds James basically fending off the guy and Logan jumps in and basically fucks that shit up. Comfort ensues when they get home.

Anon, if you are out there, thank you for the amazing prompt!

I've never really thought about Logan and James as a couple before this I wrote this, but now I find I kind of like it.

Rated M for Logan/James slash, m/m and underage sex, a few curse words, implied underage drinking and some very minor violence

Disclaimer: I do not know or own Big Time Rush or any other affiliated character, nor is any money being made. The show belongs to Nickelodeon and the boys belong to themselves.

Sarabande

Logan hated clubs.

The music was too loud, drunken people staggered about clumsily on uncooperative limbs. Drinks were spilled everywhere the floor suspiciously sticky, and there were far more people than should be allowed crammed into a tiny space.

It was sweaty and stifling, the air stale and suffocating, and Logan could never tell if the sweat trickling down his chest and arms actually belonged to him, or one of the hundred other faceless, random people packed tightly together.

The people that were drunk were either far too happy and obnoxiously loud to be normal, snobby and pretentious, or mean and belligerent.

It wasn't exactly what Logan would call a fun time. He'd rather be at home, reading a good book, curled up in his warm cozy bed.

That, apparently, was boring, according to James who wanted to go out and experience life in LA, who wanted to dance and have a good time and promptly decided everyone was going to a club.

Logan didn't want to go, didn't want to come to another club, but James flashed him his trademark pout and puppy dog eyes and Logan was doomed to say yes to him.

He never could say no to James, not many people could. The only three people that had mastered the art of telling James no, was James' mother, Kendall, and Carlos.

Logan hadn't quite figured out their secret yet. If he's being perfectly honestly with himself, though, and he's not, Logan isn't quite sure he wants to figure it out.

So he let the energetic boy drag him to Club Paradise, or whatever it was called, Kendall and Carlos mysteriously having 'plans' elsewhere that night.

They shouldn't have even been allowed in here, which Logan was kind of betting on. They're only sixteen and they're not quite famous enough for breaking the law yet. He should know better, though, than to question the extent of James' connections.

The younger boy loved this kind of thing; bodies mashed tightly together, hips swaying to the music, dancing carefree with anyone just to toss them away at the end of the song.

James was kind of a flirt on the dance floor. One day, Logan knew, that was going to get him into serious trouble.

While dirty and disgusting, there were definitely perks to going to clubs. It was worth it to see James so happy, and the handsome boy usually returned the favor by doing things Logan wanted to do, like check out the new art exhibit in town, or visit the Bodies exhibition at the local museum.

And a small part of Logan, which he usually denied existed, was hopelessly turned on by the sight of James grinding on the dance floor, with lust and a hint of mischief in his dark brown eyes.

It wasn't all bad, and he couldn't hate James for liking this kind of thing. He was a little pissed at the younger boy at the moment, though.

James was no where in sight. He vanished to the bathroom long ago and had not returned.

He was utterly alone near the back of the club, awkwardly standing by himself, mindlessly paying attention to no one, and consciously being ignored by the general public. He hated being around such huge crowds of anonymous people by himself. He was painfully shy and socially awkward and so he just couldn't introduce himself to new people, not like James or Kendall could. Those two could easily slide into any conversation and instantly make new friends.

James always had at least two new contacts in his phone at the end of the night every time they went out.

It's not like he was jealous or wanted to be with James or anything. So what if James had a lot of…friends.

Despite his flirty nature, James was a good friend. He didn't usually leave Logan alone for long because he knew how uncomfortable clubs made the older boy.

James had been gone for a while now, though. Truth be told, he was starting to get worried.

There was a macabre man in his late twenties that spent most of his night sitting near the bar, nursing his drink. The older man was about the same height as James, but whereas James was lean this guy was thick and bulky. He had short red hair with dark blue eyes that had been fixated on James most of the night. After a brief conversation with him at the bar, James found out the older man was in the navy.

He seriously freaked Logan out.

The guy kept trying to touch James and buy him drinks. He even asked James if he wanted to 'ditch the dork, and go have some fun in his hotel room.'

The offensive man latched onto James' arm and wouldn't let him go, even after James politely refused his offer. The insecure teen never was one to stand up for himself, so Logan was forced to step in. He pulled the shocked younger boy towards him and placed a fierce kiss on his surprised lips.

"He's mine," he growled at the navy man sitting at the bar, before he dragged a startled James towards the dance floor.

James was thoroughly amused at Logan's outburst.

"What was that for?" he asked, laughter dancing in his eyes and voice. They grinded together on the dance floor, James' hands placed firmly on his hips, bodies sensually swaying together to the rhythm of the music.

"He was a creepy asshole and I wasn't going to let him treat you that way," Logan's hurried excuse was. In all actuality Logan really just wanted to kiss James, and the situation provided the perfect opportunity. Logan could kiss James without telling the other boy how he really felt and save James from the creepy asshole at the bar at the same time. It was a win win situation all around.

His arms were wrapped around James, lips next to his ear, the other teen's hand warm and possessive on his hip. "Thanks for saving me," James said and pressed a teasing kiss to his lips and moved on to the next sucker. It was almost enough to make Logan not hate being here, almost enough to make him believe James might like him back. Almost.

That was until James disappeared to the bathroom almost ten minutes ago. James took forever in the washroom, but not even the obsessive boy took that long to piss. A quick glance towards the bar revealed that the weird pedophile was gone too.

Logan wasn't one to follow his instincts, or go with his 'gut' feeling. He analyzed every single detail and weighed his options methodically until finally reaching a decision.

But this was one rare time in his life where he knew deep down in his gut, that something was terribly wrong. He didn't even stop to think before he was hastily pushing through the crowd of people to get to the bathroom.

He frantically burst through the bathroom door, only to find it utterly empty save for one lone guy at the urinal.

He couldn't have been more than 18, with dyed blue hair swiped neatly to one side. He looked semi-terrified at Logan as he burst through the door, panting heavily.

"Have you seen a guy about this high," he said and placed his hand above his head to about where James stood, "with medium length brown hair and dark red shirt and black vest?" he quickly rambled. He gave the poor boy the angriest glare he could muster, leaving no room for argument.

"Yeah," the other guy fortunately answered. "He left here a couple of minutes ago with another guy. Well was more like dragged. The other guy said something about going out back?"

Cold, hard dread settled in the pit of his stomach. James would never willing leave him like that, never. In his haste to leave and find and kill, or find and rescue, James, he never did thank the blue haired man.

He was out of the bathroom and pushing through the crowd of people as quickly as he could, which wasn't very fast at all. It was several, long agonizing moments of stepping on anonymous people's toes and pushing and shoving past random people before he was stumbling out the back door and into the alleyway.

A muffled cry immediately drew his attention. Logan whipped his head around just in time to see the threatening navy man twist James' arm painfully behind his back and forcefully slam him into the back wall of the club.

With one hand the older man twisted James' arm up until he cried out in pain and stopped wildly struggling as he pinned the teen's body to the wall with his own body weight. He wormed one knee inbetween James' legs and pried them apart. His free hand snuck into the front of James' pants. As James let out a gasp, Logan could confidently guess exactly what that hand was doing in his pants, though he couldn't see for sure.

Logan did not get angry often. He always felt that anger was a pointless emotion and that it solved nothing. He's willing to make an exception this time, though.

Logan has never been this mad in his entire life, not even the day his father walked out of his life forever. He's so furious his fists are shaking and his heart is pounding sharply against his ribs, trying to break free from its cage.

"Stop," he demands. This can't be really happening, he thinks, but he knows it is and damnit he knew something like this was going to happen one day.

He was just hoping that day would never come.

The menacing red head glanced in his direction and scoffs at his appearance. He doesn't view Logan as a threat.

"Come to watch the show?" he boasts. The creep removes his hands from James pants and starts unbuttoning them.

"I said stop," Logan hisses, his voice frightfully low.

"What are you going to do about it?" he mocks as he grinds his erection into James' ass, earning a pitiful whimper from the boy trapped between him and the wall.

Logan doesn't know what to do about it. He's not exactly a good fighter and he always panics under pressure. But James fucking needs him and he has to do something, so he does the first thing that pops into his mind.

He picks up a decent sized rock and he throws it as hard as he can at the bastard molesting his friend.

His aim is better than he thought for the rock bounces off the side of the older man's head.

The grip on James' arm tightens in response and the younger boy gasps in pain. The freak's free hand stops pulling James' pants down and slides up his chest to wrap around his neck.

"Do that again and I will kill your little pet here."

James is not a pet, is the first thought that runs angrily through his mind. The second is that he's out of options.

So he acts on impulse. Logan, by nature, is not an impulsive person, but he doesn't know what else to do and his frantic mind can't find a solution.

Before he's even aware of what he's doing, he's running as fast as he can before body slamming into the slimy bastard as hard as he can. All three of them stumble to the ground in an awkward pile of flailing limbs.

It hurts, it fucking hurts, full body tackling someone like that, and the breath is knocked out of his lungs as he collides with the taller man. He lies, dazed on the ground for just a moment, before he's rolling away from him and darts to his feet.

He gets up in time to see the older man place a vicious kick to James' head and suddenly the younger boy isn't moving anymore.

Logan doesn't have time to panic or worry before dark menacing eyes turn to him.

"You're going to pay for that," the man threatens and pushes Logan, but he's not about to go down without a fight.

He lashes out and punches the guy, his knuckles violently colliding with the older man's jaw. The creep stumbles and Logan uses his momentary advantage to kick him in the balls. He's not one to normally fight dirty, but this time, he thinks, the situation warrants it. The red headed menace drops to his knees and Logan hastens over to James and drops to the ground next to the prone boy.

"James," he calls out panicked, but the taller boy does not stir. "James," he frantically shouts out again, and gently shakes his shoulder, but there is no response.

Before he can do anything else, Logan is sucker-punched in the back of the head. Retrospect is a bitch, he thinks, because he really shouldn't have ignored Mr. Rapist for so long.

He's not about to give up now, though and so despite the pain that explodes in his skull like fireworks on a hot July 4th, he kicks out with his legs and knocks the other guy to the ground.

It turns into a full out brawl after that, as they tussle on the ground for dominance. Logan's fairly certain he got a good, solid punch to the bastard's face, but the slimy rotten, worm placed a fierce punch to his side. He struggled as hard as he could, but in the end, the sheer size and forcefulness of the other man won as Logan was pinned to the ground.

A hand wrapped around his throat and painfully squeezed until he couldn't breathe. He scrabbled uselessly against the body pressing down on him, but he couldn't throw the other guy off. His vision started to darken, a gray haze misting over his eyes like the lake back in Minnesota before a hot, summer storm, before suddenly the pressure was gone, and a heavy body was falling on top of him, completely unconscious.

Logan was startled for a long moment, as he panted harshly, trying to regain his breath and control over his frantic mind, before he saw James standing over them, a metal pipe clenched tightly in his hands, blood trickling down his face.

The pipe dropped from his hands, clanging loudly against the ground in the suddenly silent alley before James dropped to his knees.

Logan pushed the heavy body off of him before slowly crawling over to his friend.

James hands were held palm up in his lap and the younger boy was staring at them, surprise and confusion fighting for dominance on his face.

He was in shock, Logan could tell, not quite composed and definitely confused, probably as a result of the concussion.

"James," he said softly, and placed a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder. Dull brown eyes lifted to stare back at him, his pain, shock, confusion and trauma swirling around his dark eyes like souls in a fiery pit in Hades. "We should call the police," he continues when James says nothing.

"I just want to go home," James whispers and his voice almost breaks. It sounds so lost and broken that Logan finds that once again, he can't say no to those pleading eyes.

Logan knows they should go to the hospital. James definitely has a concussion and Logan was sucker punched, which is never a good thing, but he finds he doesn't want to go either. He doesn't want to call the police and answer their questions, tell them everything he saw. Or go to the hospital and answer uncomfortable questions about what happened tonight.

Instead, he nods to his friend and stumbles to his feet. He checks on the dirty, worthless, pathetic excuse for man just to make sure he is alive, before leaving an anonymous tip to the police.

Logan helps James stand, the taller boys arm thrown over his shoulder and together they stagger down the long alley. He stuffs a cooperative and lifeless James into a cab and somehow, silently, both lost and brooding in their own thoughts, they find their way home.

James didn't say a single damn word the entire cab ride home or during the short walk to 2J and it terrified Logan how eerily silent he was.

The younger boy was never this quiet, never. He always had something to say, but his jaw was now clenched firmly shut, his silence written in the still air.

The traumatized teen tried to lock himself into the bathroom the moment he walked into their shared bedroom, but Logan knew he couldn't let James do that.

Logan knew James too well. He knew if he let James just walk into the bathroom without a confrontation, the other boy would immediately shut everyone out, try to forget what happened, and he would never talk about, wouldn't say a word to anyone. If Logan tried to bring it up, the taller boy would simply deny it ever happened. The memory would fester in his mind, though, like poison in a wound, and James would never move on, he would never get over it. Never.

Just like with the whole incident with Thomas Wazy four years ago. Logan's fairly certain James never told anyone exactly what happened that night. But he's not going to let that happen again.

So he plastered himself across the door, arms spread across the wooden barrier, body blocking James' only exit.

"Don't lock me out," he begged, eyes pleading with his friend.

But James refused to look at him, his eyes were firmly glued to the floor, fixated on the past, on the redheaded monster and his touchy feely hands.

"I'm fine," James insisted, but even as naïve as Logan was, he still knew it was a lie.

"I don't believe you," he evenly replied, unwilling to fall into a verbal trap.

"I don't want to talk about it," James implored his voice close to breaking, "Just let me go."

"No," Logan demanded. "That creep tried to rape you, James! I know you are not fine and I'm not going to let you shut me out and pretend it never happened."

His younger friend flinched at his harsh words, but Logan knew that if he wasn't blunt, he would never get answers, he would never get his nervous friend to open up.

But James was being stubbornly silent. The muscles in his jaw were clenched shut in defiance. This conversation was getting him no where. Logan was never going to get answers in this argument, not like this. "At least let me take a look at your injuries," he begged because he knew how serious concussions could be. If he couldn't get James to talk, the least he could do was make sure the younger teen wasn't going to die from the wounds sustained during the fight.

His own injuries hurt like a bitch. His ribs throbbed with every moment, his throat burned with every breath, his muscles ached as the tension and stress from the fight slowly dissolved, and a sharp pain had settled behind his eyes.

He hadn't been kicked in the face like James had, though, and Logan had no way of knowing what happened before he'd burst into that alley. Logan knew he was going to be fine, but he had way of knowing if the same was true for James.

James was tall and athletic, but he couldn't fight for shit and he was terrible at defending himself. But he'd put up one hell of a struggle long enough until Logan got there, it seemed, until he was finally overwhelmed and violently shoved into the wall.

It terrified Logan knowing James had been alone with that criminal for so long and not knowing exactly what occurred, though. Maybe seeing some of the injuries would answer some of his questions of what happened between James and the older man before he found them.

James hesitated for a moment, the barest flicker of a gaze was directed towards him, before the younger boy acquiesced. "Fine," he mumbled softly.

"Thank you," Logan sincerely replied and led James to his bed.

There was dried blood caked to the side of his face from a cut at the end of his eyebrow. The area was swollen and a dark bruise was already starting to from around his eye.

He gently coaxed the restless and anxious boy into sitting on the bed.

"Stay here," he gently commanded. "I'll be right back."

He dashed around the apartment, terrified that when he came back to the room, James would be gone, locked alone in the bathroom, crying the tears he wouldn't let anyone else see.

But moments later when he returned with a wet washcloth, some ice, and a first aid kit, he found James still sitting on his bed, eyes downcast and hands twitching nervously in his lap.

He wiped away the blood and calmly urged the silent teen into holding the icepack to his face. James looked confused at first, before complying. He winced as the cold ice made contact with his hot, flustered skin.

The shock hadn't quite worn off, it seemed. The younger boy's eyes could not quite focus on one thing in the room and he seemed so dazed and just completely out of it, that Logan feared he made the wrong decision in taking James straight home.

"Maybe we should go to the hospital after all," he thought out loud.

James didn't move and Logan wasn't even sure the brunette heard him, before his soft, broken voice finally replied.

"Please don't make me go," James whispered in a child like voice that broke Logan's heart and made him, once more confident in his decision.

"I won't," he promised. The other boy gave a tiny nod in response. Logan rubbed his hand comfortingly across the younger teen's shoulder, but James hissed in pain and flinched away from him. Panicked alarms rang loudly in his ears, as he wondered exactly what James' shirt was hiding.

"Can I take your shirt off?" he quietly asked and waited patiently until James hesitantly nodded.

Normally Logan was excited to see the other boy without a shirt on, as he would secretly hide how turned on he was by the other's body. But this time James' bare skin revealed a myriad of bruises and many more questions for the shorter boy. There was dark, black and blue bruise forming around his swollen right wrist and various scrapes and bruises across his chest and back.

Delicately, he placed the tips of his fingers on a large, angry bruise on the back of James' shoulder, finger tracing around the jagged, purple edges on his tan skin. It looked as if he had been kicked there.

He felt the younger teen's shoulders trembling beneath his touch.

"James?"

James titled his head to face Logan, and finally, finally the injured boy snapped. Tears rolled down the distressed teen's face. Logan wrapped his arms around him, and the taller boy curled into him, head buried into his shoulder, hot tears soaking through his torn shirt.

"I'm sorry," James sobbed into his shoulder.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Logan reassured as he held James tightly to his chest.

"But I didn't stop him," James whined, fingers desperately clutching at the fabric of Logan's shirt.

"You hit him over the head with a lead pipe, I think that counts."

"But if you weren't there, I never would have, and he would have, he would have…and I was so terrified and I couldn't do anything and," the younger boy rambled, unable to finish a single thought, his words jumbled and rushed. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

"This has happened before?" Logan felt a belated rush of fear and panic. The events probably happened long ago, but that didn't mean he couldn't still worry or wonder how far the others had gotten.

James completely ignored his question, as if he didn't hear it, as if he was lost in his own mind, his memories stuck on replay.

"Is it because I'm a bad person? Am I unlovable? Maybe, if I wasn't such a flirt –"

James was definitely being over dramatic. It pissed Logan off that the other boy would even dare to suggest that it was his fault. It wasn't his fault and Logan didn't blame him.

He didn't want James thinking that way.

That other guy was a psycho; he was seriously delusional and fucked up. Logan didn't know about the others, but he's betting they're the same way as Mr. Rapist in the alleyway.

James just happened to be extremely good looking and friendly and his personality attracted everyone. He was just there, at the wrong place at the wrong time. And if James hadn't of been there, it would have been someone else targeted by the delusional freak.

For the second time that night, Logan acts on impulse. He can't let James keep thinking like this, but James is incessantly rambling, and definitely, Logan worries, still disorientated and in shock.

So he does the first thing that pops into his mind, and without over analyzing the consequences like he usually does, Logan kisses James, cutting him off in the middle of his self-deprecating rant.

"You are not a bad person," Logan resolutely states to a startled James when he pulls away from the kiss. "And this isn't your fault, it's his. You are a caring, fun, loving, kind person, and I love you, James Diamond."

The younger boy's eyes are wide open in surprise. His silence is unnerving, and Logan is starting to get nervous, starting to believe that hey, maybe this isn't what James needed to hear. Maybe this wasn't the best time to proclaim his love, as corny as that sounds. But he's gotten this far already and everything about tonight has gone against his very nature, so he's not about to stop now.

He pulls away from the taller boy and holds him at arms length away. "I've loved you," he boldly continues, "since we were thirteen years old, but I've always been too afraid to tell you. You're not unlovable, James, you're just too lovable." Logan stares down at the bedspread, unable to look James in the eyes anymore.

"I…I never noticed," is all the younger boy can say to his brave admission. He's still staring at Logan in confusion. All Logan wants to do is curl up in a tight ball and hide somewhere. A dark blush is burning up his cheeks and he wants to runaway from those piercing brown eyes staring at him questionably, but Logan stands his ground.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way, I just thought you should know, because I don't want you feeling like this is your fault. It's not, James. You didn't do anything wrong. And I'll always be there for you, whenever you need it. So you don't have to be afraid."

He's rambling, he realizes, his anxiousness and nervousness starting to slip through as his courage from the moment before falters. He's just so embarrassed and flustered and James hasn't given a single response to his declaration.

Logan is suddenly cut off as soft lips are incessantly pressing against his and a firm, yet gentle, hand is pushing him until his back hits the bed.

It takes a moment to let his surprise wear off before he's responding to the lips hesitantly pushed against his. Logan grabs James' pants and pulls him closer as the taller boy straddles his hips.

He's perfectly aware how vulnerable James is right now and that he's taking advantage of that vulnerability. This is wrong, they shouldn't be doing this right now, James is in no condition to consent, emotionally or physically. But when James dips his hands beneath his pants and starts rubbing his hardening cock, Logan can't bring himself to care. He can't force himself to stop this now before things get out of hand.

So he shuts his mind down, he stops thinking about it, and he just lets himself feel: the way James' hand moves against his hot flesh, the way their lips move teasingly, slowly together, the shiver of pleasure, the pool of heat, skin pressed against skin.

Experimentally, he licks his tongue against the other's lips, and James easily lets him in. Their tongues dance lazily together, twirling to the rhythm of the soundtrack of their lives.

He lets a hand slowly slide up James' side, the tips of his fingers tracing an invisible line across his ribs, in faint circles around his nipples, until he lets one hand rest behind his neck.

Logan lightly strokes the hair on the back of James' neck and lets the other hand settle on the younger boy's hip.

James pulls back, a question written in his dark eyes, as he removes his hand from Logan's pants. Logan doesn't know what the question is, though, and most importantly, he doesn't know the answer.

So he pulls him closer, their noses just barely touching and he lets James know just how much he wants this through the desire and commitment playing in his eyes.

The same want and need is singing in James' eyes, but Logan doesn't know what the other boy is thinking and he's not sure he wants to know. Logan doesn't want to think at all, he just wants this moment. So he leans up and barely touches his lips to the beautiful teen above him.

James hesitates for a moment, his hands fiddling with the hem of Logan's shirt. But then his hands are lifting it and Logan lets the shirt slide off his outstretched arms. The younger teen's hands lightly track down the muscles in his arm, the muscles Logan rarely showed anyone.

There's still a burning question twisted in his dark irises, but he doesn't know what James wants, and he's getting impatient. So he unbuttons the taller boy's pants, the zipper falling easily beneath his trembling hands and he pushes the other boy's pants and boxers past his slim hips and down his toned legs, to bunch around his knees.

Moments later James returns the favor and he lifts his hips as his pants easily slip off, his hard cock springing free from its tight confines.

James kisses and nips a hot wet trail from his neck down to his hip. Logan is panting harshly, his cheeks flushed a bright red. The touch of lips on his feverish skin sends shivers down his spine, a rush of pleasure pulsing through him.

Timidly, James licks his erection from base to tip and damnit if it isn't the hottest thing Logan has ever seen.

It gets even hotter when James wraps his lips around his penis and starts sucking him off.

He gasps in pleasure, a low moan catching in his throat as James twirls his tongue around the head of his erection.

His hands fist in the sheets and it takes every ounce of willpower he posses not to buck his hips up into the tight, hot mouth.

As quickly as the lips were wrapped around his cock, they're suddenly gone as James sits up and leans back, his silent query still hanging in the air.

And suddenly Logan gets it.

Without uttering a single word, Logan sits up and pushes James until he's lying nervously on the bed, knees up and legs spread.

He realizes just how vulnerable James really is, and how much he trusts Logan. The scared younger teen was silently pleading with him the whole time, begging him to understand.

And Logan does, he understands how much James needs this to be right, to be loving and gentle, to soothe away rough hands and dark memories. He needs Logan to love him, to make love to him.

So Logan settles between long legs, both hands tangled in the sheets on either side of his head. Logan leans forward and places a quick gentle, comforting kiss on supple lips. He sneaks one hand between them and strokes James.

James clenches his eyes shut and bites his lower lip at the feel of soft hands gently coaxing him.

He doesn't have any lube, he never planned on this happening, but the lotion on his nightstand will work just fine he thinks.

Blindly, he fumbles for the bottle, finger tips barely grazing it before he pulls it onto bed.

He lathers up two fingers before slowly inserting his middle finger into James' tight entrance. He continues to languidly stroke the younger boy, until he feels James relax. Logan pushes a second finger in and steadily thrusts them in, tenderly preparing the younger boy.

He lathers up his erection when he feels the beauty beneath him is ready and gently coaxes James' knees to his chest. Logan positions himself, and after a hesitant and apprehensive nod from James, he slowly pushes in.

His heart is racing, and they're both panting heavily, their harsh breaths mingling in the air between them.

Skin against skin, the heat wrapped around him, burning him from the outside in like a furnace enveloped around his dick, the little whining noises James makes in the back of his throat and occasional gasp all serve to make Logan harder than he thought was possible. He's never been this turned on in his entire life.

Bit by bit, he inches his way in until he's fully buried in the body beneath him. He waits until the younger teen stops breathing in pained huffs, before he pulls back and pushes in as tenderly as before.

James' hands are resting warm and heavy on his hips and he can't help the sudden desire to kiss swollen lips. He forces his tongue past those gorgeous lips and increases the pressure of his hand on the other's cock as he leisurely thrusts into the taller boy.

Their tongues lazily battle and he can feel the heat pooling in his thighs. Sweat is trickling down his back and Logan is nearly blinded by the sheer amount of desire and pleasure building in his throbbing erection. James gasps into the kiss and Logan can tell the other boy is getting close.

He smears his thumb across the head of James' erection before picking up his own thrusts.

He's so damn close, but he waits until he hears a loud gasp from James and the younger boy's muscles are clenching around him, until he lets go.

He collapses, barely catching himself on one arm as his orgasm tears through him in white hot flashes of pure bliss. It takes a moment before he can clear his head of loud ringing in his ears and the slight haze that has settled over his mind.

He pulls back and slips out as gently as he can, though James still hisses slightly in pain. Logan intertwines their fingers and let's his thumb brush comfortingly across James' knuckles as he lies on his side next to the suddenly still teen.

James is still lying on his back, eyes staring at the ceiling and Logan desperately wants to know what's going on through his head, what James is thinking about.

The other boy suddenly looks at him, dark eyes a jumbled mess of emotions that flicker rapidly between sad and lonely and depressed and happy and relieved.

"Thank you," he abruptly whispers to Logan, "for saving me, and everything else."

"I'd do it again," Logan immediately responds, because even if the man at the club had a knife, Logan still would have jumped in head first, without thinking, just to save James.

"I know," James half smiles, half sighs in exasperation at the older boy curled slightly around him. "You were pretty awesome out there, hero," he teases.

"Why thank you. I'm made of steel, you know, but I have a weakness for chocolate," he teases back and James quietly laughs.

Logan smiles and cuddles into the warm body next to him. He lets his eyes falls shut and after a long, tiring day he's finally drifting into sleep when soft lips press against his forehead.

"I love you, too," James' murmurs and falls asleep.

Their hands are still clasped, naked skin pressed tightly together, bodies hot, and love still lingering thick and heavy in the air. The sun rises, reality glaring through the window as a cloudy new day dawns.

Logan knows he shouldn't let James sleep with a concussion. He knows they should call the police, he knows they should go to the hospital, but he doesn't do any of those things.

He drifts into sleep, lazily, longingly and lets his fairytale play out, just a moment longer.