Disclaimer: I don't claim jack-diddly, including Jett's aversion to red meat.

Welcome to the second installment of Science and Sex!

Okay, so, animal-verse. Humans are given only the most distinguishing characteristics of whatever animal they are, including ears, tails, fangs, horns, hooves (represented by black fingernails), wings (moved to the back), long tongues, etc., as well as certain abilities. Also, eating others in this universe isn't a big deal. Mostly unimportant since this story is mainly me working on dialogue flow, but whatever.

All grammatical errors are my own. I will find a beta someday.

1: Warnings for sexual content (including animal play, rough/playful sex, jealousy/possessiveness, endurance/pseudo-knotting, strength kink, unprotected sex (use a condom, kids), aaaand sensory stimulation), language, and thoughts of technical cannibalism (it may not sound like it, but it is.)

2: Focuses mainly on James/Logan and their pre-romantic relationship, with minor appearances by whomever else. Set in some weird animal universe. James is a fox because foxes in European folklore are known for trickery and playfulness, Logan is a sheep (specifically a ram) because the Chinese zodiac describes them as the intelligent, thoughtful type, and Kendall and Carlos are a wolf and a bull respectively for more obvious reasons. Okay, I'm done.

Predation

–

Predation is a form of symbiotic relationship between two organisms of unlike species in which one organism, known as the predator, captures and feeds on another organism, known as the prey.

(Smith, Ecology & Field Biology)

–

James Diamond was hungry.

No, not that silly I haven't eaten in a couple of hours type of hunger. Not even the I haven't eaten a single thing in three days type of hunger.

It was more like, say, a nine year hunger? Maybe ten?

Whenever he'd first met Logan marked the day that hunger started; that constant ache in his stomach that couldn't be alleviated by all the turkey burgers in the world – he knew that for a fact since he'd tried stuffing himself with burgers until he puked when he was eleven.

See, James Diamond was a fox – in more ways than one, which meant he was mainly a carnivore, which meant he liked to eat meat. Fresh, bloody, red or white, well-done or medium-rare, maybe even slightly rotten if he was in the mood, it didn't really matter, as long as it was meat. Nothing could replace the heavenly aroma, the sumptuous taste or the pleasure of his fangs gnashing into it and chewing bit by bit – certainly not those tubs of opaque white snot Mrs. Knight always tried to turn him onto, tofu. No substitute would ever do for him.

Back when James was just a kit, before Logan, he'd been able to eat meat without any sort of residual craving. It was only when he started kindergarten – when he'd been punished for taking a bite out of a squirrel girl in his class – that he learned that he couldn't eat just any type of meat he wanted. Only non-human hybrids were okay to eat – pork and fish and chicken and turkey.

That had taken him a while to get over, not to mention tons of time spent being grounded every time he chomped on a potential meal. After a year or so, he finally stopped salivating every time a bird or a snake walked into class.

And then, sometime around when he was eight, Carlos had introduced James to Logan, which also meant that it was totally Carlos' fault for the constant empty feeling in his stomach.

Logan and his family were the only sheep James had ever met before the move to Los Angeles; something about the colder climate of Minnesota or whatever. When James had first laid eyes on him – being held in a chokehold by Carlos – it had taken him a while to look away…or blink, for that matter. There in front of him had been new prey, not a bird or a frog or a rodent, but a – thing with obsidian-black fingernails like Carlos and a wooly little tail and horns that were too small to actually defend himself with and God did he smell delicious!

After that meeting, Logan had logically kept his distance from James, who couldn't help but drool hungrily whenever Logan was near. Of course, James didn't really understand why at the time – Logan was prey, being drooled over came with the territory! – nor did he appreciate Logan always attaching himself to Carlos or Kendall, a wolf, when they all hung out.

Eventually, James learned to hold in his animalistic urges and stopped trying to chomp on Logan's limbs whenever he held one out too far, because Logan was actually a pretty cool guy and James did want to be his friend – and not just in hopes that Logan would someday consent to letting James eat him.

Sure, the sheep boy was too smart for his own good sometimes, and he was always going off on scientific tangents about meteor patterns or the history of moss, and he was sarcastic and insulting and never let James sniff him and mean, but he liked hockey just as much as any good friend, and he didn't mind helping with homework, and he smelled so fucking good, so much better than processed turkey meat and fish heads.

What made his hunger for Logan worse was that it was just for Logan. Sure, Mrs. Mitchell had smelled amazing when Logan finally decided James wasn't a threat and let James into his home, but it was nothing compared to the aroma constantly emanating from her son. Not to mention Mr. Mitchell had huge pointy horns and he hated James for no good reason at all, so trying to snack on one of Mrs. Mitchell's calves would have probably end up with him being launched out of Logan's house with horn prints on his ass.

How fair was that?

To make matters worse, after James had gained control of his urges and was able to be around Logan without focusing fully on the pale, tender, edible flesh on his neck, he started noticing that he wasn't the only one with a keen sense of smell. Suddenly, he started noticing that Logan was popular – no, not popular. The bad version of popular. He was infamous, because those eyes that had followed him – Logan – down the halls were the eyes of bears and hawks and coyotes and predators.

Logan hadn't cared in the least, and he'd always brushed off James' worry with a calm smile. It bugged James that Logan thought it was okay to just walk around school wearing t-shirts and shorts and showing too much skin to too many eyes, and that Logan never backed down from a verbal confrontation, even when he was insulting the entire wrestling team with huge, degrading words that they didn't understand.

It bugged James because it meant he had to protect Logan, even if Logan had denied his protection and called him stupid. James was a good friend, which meant that he couldn't allow his Logan to be mauled and devoured by random students. Sure, sometimes James thought Logan deserved it when he was being a jerk, but it didn't matter–

Because James had already decided; if Logan was going to be eaten by someone, it would be by him.

Whenever Logan let him.

Moving to Los Angeles had simultaneously made things easier and more difficult for James. Their new home was more diverse, filled with all types of animals and not just those partial to lower temperatures. It meant everyone was accustomed to seeing new animals – like say, sheep – and had better control over their urges,so Logan was no longer a rarity, nor was he in as much potential danger as back in Minnesota. Oh, there were still looks, but no real trouble.

Unfortunately, moving also meant James was in closer quarters with Logan – closer meaning all the fucking time. How was he expected to fully enjoy a turkey burger or homemade blueberry pie when Logan was there in the same apartment as him, just…being there? It was like constantly eating consolation prizes when first prize was right in front of him, reading a book about something no one else besides him cared about.

In other words, it sucked, and James' stomach recognized that and punished him for it. With ache.

It punished James whenever Logan decided to be an unwitting tease and stretched every lean, healthy muscle in his arms upward, sometimes revealing that teasing strip of flesh along his stomach if the shirt was small enough.

It punished James during the rare times when he and Logan wrestled over something stupid – Logan didn't like James being in physical contact with him for too long – and James could feel every inch of Logan beneath his fingers, so firm and sinuous beneath thin clothing and he could just dig his claws right in and – Logan always stopped the touching whenever James paused and stared for too long, knowing about James' erratic inhibitions.

It punished James each time Logan emerged from the bathroom after a hot shower in only a towel, shaking water from his dark hair and squinting through dripping fringes, and James could literally see the steam rising from his pinkened skin, like he'd been cooked to perfection solely for James' dining pleasure. It took all of his resolve to not rush into the bathroom and bask in Logan's scent, or worse, simply pounce on Logan and lick every rivulet of moisture from his stomach, his chest, his neck, and bite and bite.

James knew he was fortunate that he'd doubted his willpower and preemptively chosen to room with Carlos. Carlos didn't appeal to him at all; he didn't smell anything special, and James was deathly afraid of being gored by Carlos' sharpened horns. If Logan had slept in the bed next to him, James knew he would fall asleep one moment, and wake up with his fangs buried in Logan's shoulder the next.

At least, that's what'd happened when he'd tried sleeping in Logan's tent during a camping trip once. Big mistake.

It wasn't until recent that James found a solution to his problem. Sort of.

––

James was the last to make it down to the pool that evening. As usual, his three best friends hadn't taken the time to wait for him to finish his extensive morning beauty care ritual. It was almost as if they wanted him to go out in public with unkempt hair and a fluffy tail.

The scene at the pool was nothing atypical. Kendall and Carlos, with corks over his horns, were tossing a beach ball back and forth in the pool. Jo was sitting on a lounge watching Camille practice a scene from whatever eccentric role she was auditioning for, Camille's feathery wings flapping emphatically with every movement. Guitar Toadfish was strumming his guitar in a cabana, and it sounded pretty…bad. Lucy was glaring and hissing at Guitar Toadfish through the adjacent cabana wall, confirming James' suspicion that it sounded bad.

Oh, and yes, Logan was lying back on a lounge in only trunks and no shirt, reading a book and popping those disgusting grassball snacks he and Carlos liked to chew on for hours into his mouth. And there was a guy standing near him and grinning at him, a guy with gleaming fangs and sharp claws and that predatory look in his eyes James was so familiar with.

James to the rescue, as always.

"Beat it, Jett," James snipped as he approached them, arms crossed to emphasize his biceps if the verbal warning failed. "He's not interested."

The smarmy grin dropped from the snow leopard's lips and he turned attention to James, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "Do I know you?"

Logan looked up from his book, eyes glancing between James and Jett curiously. "Oh, Jett, this is my friend, James."

"Best friend," James corrected with a glare, mindful of the way Jett's tail whipped around behind him. "And best friendship means I'm not letting you trick Logan into some trap so you can eat him."

"Oh, great," Logan rolled his eyes before returning to his book, resuming chewing on the remnants of grass in his mouth. James would've taken more time be grossed out, but he was too busy staring the opposing feline down.

"Trick?" Jett scoffed and brushed imaginary dust from his shoulder. "I beg your pardon? My intentions were clear from the very beginning. I don't need to resort to trickery."

"You're so lying! I already tried the same thing, it's not going to work."

"You tried to eat him and you're his so-called best friend? And how exactly do you treat your enemies?"

James opened his mouth, ready to yell and possibly tackle Jett into the pool if necessary, but Logan started before he could. "He's not lying, James." James' jaw clicked shut, switching his glare to Logan, who had yet to look up from his book. "He said he wanted to take me out on a date, then eat me. I told him I appreciated his honesty."

Logan flipped a page in his book leisurely. James gawked at his friend, wondering how he could be so indifferent about some stranger requesting to eat him. Then, his eyes went back to Jett – not that he noticed since his gaze was back on Logan – and James' realized why Kendall hated him so much. The handsome bastard was trying to muscle in on already acquired territory, and it wasn't appreciated.

"I would've shown you a good time beforehand, you know," Jett's smirk was feral. "I'm a gentleman like that." Logan hummed with feigned interest from behind his book.

First, James wondered whether or not he could take Jett in a fight, because offering Logan a good time was not okay. He knew he had the bigger physique of the two of them, not to mention he'd wanted the prize for almost a decade. His excellent body coupled with his fervent desire definitely equated to victory.

Second, he grimaced at Jett for wanting to show Logan a good time and then eat him. How impersonal was that? You couldn't just fuck someone one moment and then eat them in the next! And if James were that slimy a person, he would've undeniably shown Logan a better time than Jett could.

Third, something clicked in his head, and James had the best idea ever. Only, Jett wasn't a part of it. At all.

"Jett, I need you to get lost," James said in an overly saccharine voice, a wide forced grin on his face and claws flexing in warning. "Now."

Jett's eyes roved over his body, probably seeing what odds he had of winning a skirmish should one occur – none. "Whatever. Red meat is full of cholesterol anyway," he declared with a huff before pivoting on one foot and storming off prissily. Easier than James had expected, but he wasn't complaining.

"Logan, I need to talk to you. Alone," James grabbed Logan's arm, tugging on it hard enough to make his sheep friend rock in his seat.

"Not now. I'm reading," Logan yanked his arm out James' grip and flipped another page, completely unbothered. That totally bothered James. He frowned and read the title of the book.

Planet Saturn: A History of Observation, Theory and Discovery.

God, that sounded awful.

"But I need to talk to you! You can read any time," James whined, resisting the urge to grab the book and toss it into the pool. Pissing Logan off probably wasn't a good idea.

Logan's eyes rose to squint at him through harsh sunlight. "I can talk to you any time, too." Ouch. "Why can't you just tell me here?"

A quick survey of the area showed that, yes, there were way too many people around to speak aloud. He needed Logan in private, where he could be easily persuaded with bum logic and sad eyes. "This is a private thing, so we need privacy. Come on, it'll just take a second! I promise." Okay, that was lie. What he had in mind would take up a good hour – or more, depending on how enjoyable it was.

"Well, it can wait until after I'm finished reading then." Logan lowered his gaze to his book, which meant he was finished with the discussion.

James, however, wasn't.

He sighed at his obstinate friend, "Always have to make things difficult," before bending over and wrapping his arms around Logan's waist, tossing him over his right shoulder easily.

Logan bleated in surprise, dropping his book in favor of gripping the back of James' black tank top, fearful for his balance. "J-James, what the hell! Put me down, dude!" he slammed his fists down on James' back.

James winced at the pain and ignored the protests, as well as the strange looks he garnered from some of the pool inhabitants not yet accustomed to the band's behavior. Carlos and Kendall didn't even spare them a cursory glance. He tightened an arm around Logan's thighs and kept walking into the lobby. "I told you, I need to talk to you. You should've come with me in the first place."

"I don't care, let me go right now!" Logan reached down and yanked hard on James' bushy tail. James bit back his yelp of pain and quickened his pace through the lobby to the elevator. "Don't just leave my book back there."

James rolled his eyes. As if someone would really want to steal a huge, heavy textbook on the solar system. "It'll be there when we get back, don't worry."

"Go get my book and my grass before Carlos eats it all again!" Logan yanked on his tail again.

James didn't bother hiding his pain since they were in the safe confines of the elevator. "Don't you know enough about space already? You read everything about it all the time!"

"You can never learn enough about space!" Another yank. Ow.

"Quit it!" James yipped and almost – almost swiveled his head to the right to bite Logan, the throbbing pain in his tailbone clouding his judgment momentarily, but he regained control just as the tip of his nose brushed against Logan's right flank. He couldn't stop himself from inhaling the scent of the sun soaked into Logan's skin and the light sheen of sweat covering it. Something inside him grew rigid and that ache in his stomach was quaking. Logan must have sensed the familiar change in atmosphere as well; James felt Logan's hand release his tail.

He had to remember that this wasn't Kendall or Carlos he was fooling around with, this was Logan, who smelled of an ambrosial dream James had yet to experience. He couldn't playfully bite him like he did his other two friends; once he had a taste, there was no guarantee that he'd be able to stop. Logan probably wouldn't forgive him for eating his entire right side – or more.

"Do you really need to carry me all the way up to the apartment?" Logan's irritated voice penetrated the silence, his hands attempting to find purchase on James' hips to lift himself up and failing brilliantly. James nodded – another lie; he knew Logan couldn't see him, but he'd feel James' nose scraping against his side.

It wasn't often that he got the chance to sniff Logan at his leisure – Logan, as selfish as always, glared and pushed him away whenever he tried, calling him "weird" or "a creep" – so he was reluctant to let the opportunity pass so quickly, even though he could have released him the moment the elevator doors closed.

Logan squirmed in his hold, inching away from James' nose, not that James let him get very far. "I'm starting to feel lightheaded and – and could you stop sniffing me, you creep!"

"Nope," James shook his head, pointedly taking a deep breath to annoy Logan further. Okay, it was for personal pleasure too, but mostly to annoy Logan.

"James," he warned, squirming more.

The elevator doors chimed open. "Calm down. We're almost there," James patted Logan's backside fondly, narrowly avoiding slapping Logan's head against the door as he exited the elevator.

"If you chip one of my horns, I'm docking your tail."

James brushed the threat off and entered their apartment, careful that he didn't smack Logan into any kitchen counters while he closed the door and carried him over to the living area. He took one lasting whiff before setting Logan down on his feet.

The punch Logan gave James to the chest after he was grounded was immediate and painful. "What was that for?" James frowned, rubbing the spot that was sure to bruise later.

Logan only rolled his eyes in response. "What was so important that you had to drag me all the way upstairs to tell me?"

In an instant, the sore spot on his chest was forgotten, and James switched into Logan Persuasion mode. "Okay, so, I have an idea–"

"Oh, this should be good."

"–a good idea that could solve both our problems super easily," James continued through grit teeth as if Logan hadn't interrupted him.

Logan's brow furrowed, "We have problems? What problems?"

"Uh, me wanting to eat you like a turkey dinner every time I smell you, which is always? Duh," James answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world – which, to him, it actually was.

Logan didn't seem very appreciative of his attitude, or maybe he was unhappy that James still wanted to eat him. Regardless of the reason, he was frowning and one of his ears was twitching, like it did when he was beginning to lecture. "You'd think after nine years, you'd gain a little bit of control over your stomach. You should try being more like Kendall or something."

That hurtful recommendation earned a scandalized gasp from James. Kendall had an excellent handle on subduing his cravings, despite being a largely carnivorous wolf. He had no problem eating turkey or fish or gross tofu, he'd never once bitten anyone from hunger, and he was even dating Jo, a bat he kissed constantly without trying to eat her face. He was noble and proud and honest; the perfect role model for anyone struggling with temptation.

It actively pissed James off whenever Logan compared him with Kendall just because Kendall put friendship before his stomach – even though James had spent most of his life staving off his hunger, protecting and being friends with Logan through the constant ache. Whatever.

James huffed and crossed his arms protectively. "I'm working on it, geez."

Picking up on the sour vibes James emanated immediately, Logan patted James on the bicep with a patient smile. "I meant try emulating him in the whole 'not wanting to devour my friend' aspect, not become a Kendall clone. James is fine as James, don't worry."

James could have told Logan that he wasn't worried to put Logan at ease and speed things along, but why pass up the opportunity for a compliment? Logan really didn't compliment him enough. "…is James amazing as James?" he wheedled, blinking dark lashes coyly.

"Yes, James is amazing as James. The best James out there," Logan nodded indulgingly, knowingly. It was pretty awesome.

"I'm glad you think so. It'll make his plan even more amazing!" James grinned brightly, no doubt in his mind that Logan wouldn't go for it.

"Right, you have a plan…" the amusement on Logan's face was replaced with cautious apprehension. "Wait, what do I get out of whatever this idea is? Besides, you know, you not eating me."

James scratched an ear atop his head, trying to phrase his answer in a way that wouldn't irritate Logan. After that process failed, he took a cautionary step back, bumping into one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "You get the ultimate protection from any other jerk who tries to eat you." There, James raised his arms and flexed his biceps, letting Logan see the full glory of his weekday gym excursions. "Me."

As expected, Logan's reaction wasn't joy or pleasure of any kind like it should have been, but more annoyance. "Dude, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't need you to protect me? I've been fine defending myself all of my life. It's probably why evolution gave me these," Logan tapped his left horn with a finger to illustrate his point, not that it was effectual.

Logan always filed his horns down until they were small, tightly wound spirals framing each side of his head. They were cool looking and kind of cute, but nothing capable of fending off attacks from anything vicious – like snow leopards.

"The only reason you're not in someone's belly right now is because I've been with you since, like, forever," James pointed at his chest with pride.

Logan shook his head, "No, it's because I'm not some little girl who needs you to come to my rescue."

"Oh, really?" James raised an eyebrow. "Remember the wrestling team?"

At that, Logan shut his mouth and flushed fetchingly, exhaling roughly from his nose in a very Carlos-like fashion. "That was one time!"

"And that one time, I kept you from getting your ass kicked by Allen, Domingo and Psycho Steve."

"Fine, James!" Logan said with irritation. "What's this brilliant idea of yours that'll solve every problem everywhere forever?"

Inwardly, James was grinning like a madman, though he maintained professionalism on the outside. Logan was already accepting nonsense – mostly out of irritation, but that totally counted. Now all James had to do was introduce his plan so Logan could get all of his silly denial out of the way. It was Logan Persuasion at its finest.

James cleared his throat, giving his most earnest expression. "Alright, so, I think that we should mate."

There was a silent beat.

"Should've known it'd be something stupid," Logan sighed and moved to side step James, grumbling something under his breath that was probably hurtful. James, having expected the reaction, was ready with an arm outstretched to catch the fleeting sheep around the midsection, thwarting his escape.

"Okay, okay – hear me out for a second, Logan!" James pleaded when Logan began to struggle, wrapping another arm and a precautionary tail around Logan's waist. If Logan actually left and got a solid minute to think without constant badgering, chances were high that he'd say no.

Logan struggled in James' grip, pulling at his fingers and punching his arms with frustrated grunts. "Hear what? I'm not having sex with you just to get rid of your hunger."

James tightened his hold around Logan's midsection, pressing Logan's back flat up against his chest and burying his face in the back of Logan's neck – which was seriously a dumb idea in retrospect. Suddenly, he was all too conscious of how alive the captive body was in his arms, of how the prominent muscles in Logan's abdomen flexed and grazed against his claws, of how Logan's scent was more potent the more energy he exerted, and he was grunting and struggling like fresh, trapped prey–

"Could you, uh, you know – stop moving for a second," James voice came out muffled against the skin of Logan's neck, a lot rougher than he'd intended. The pointed tips of Logan's ears twitched, so fluffy and so bitable. Logan heeded the order and rested his hands on James' arms, no longer struggling fiercely but doing that squirmy thing he liked to do, as if he was trying to distance himself from James despite their proximity. It was…different.

"Could you let me go then?" Logan asked with acerbic levity. James frowned into his neck. Logan squirmed more. "Like, now?"

"Are you gonna leave if I do?" James' breathed out against his neck, more curious about Logan's odd reactions than need be. What he received were the lightest of shivers – strange, since James felt nothing but warmth from the rapidly reddening flesh his arms and lips were pressed against.

"Uh, yeah. I'm definitely not having sex with you."

James settled his head on Logan's shoulder, pleasantly drowning in the heady aroma of his best friend. "Then no can do."

"James."

"It's a good idea! Trust me, it'll work," he pouted, digging his claws shallowly into Logan's stomach. No doubt Logan would want to be released quicker the more James toyed with him, which would either result in agitated acquiescence or pain for James.

He really hoped it was the former.

Logan turned his head so his ear was no longer grazing James' moving lips. In true maddening behavior, James laid his head on the opposite shoulder, grinning impishly against the tip of Logan's ear. "How exactly does us having sex solve anything?" Logan questioned.

"'Cause if we mate, then we'll be mates, and I totally won't want to eat you anymore." He couldn't see Logan's eyes, but he could feel them rolling at his words, so he knew he had to explain a little better, which was more hassle. "I mean, if we're mates, we'll have that weird bond thing, and we'll be closer, so I won't have this stupid hunger anymore. That makes sense…right?"

"That's your reasoning?" James nodded, which was little more than him digging his chin into Logan's shoulder. "You do know sexual cannibalism is a thing, right?"

James kept quiet, hopping Logan would understand that no, he had no clue what that was.

Logan's sigh broke the silence, meaning he understood. "Sexual cannibalism is when the female devours the male during or after the mating process. Spiders and praying mantis do it all the time."

Leave it to Logan to try and use science for logic. "But neither of us is a girl, or a bug, so we don't have to worry about that," James beamed. One issue out of the way already.

Fingers drummed along James' arms. Logan hummed in thought, "Okay then, how does your brain rationalize the fact that we're both from two different biological orders?

"My brain doesn't even know what that means," James knocked his forehead against the back of Logan's horn, demonstrating some self-deprecating point that he didn't want to think too much about.

"It means that that we're not similar organisms, so there's a pretty big barrier keeping us from doing…that successfully. I mean, it'd be better if you were Carlos, because the whole process would be closer to the realm of possibility, but even then there's a pretty stark difference in mine and Carlos' biological make-up that'd isolate any successful reproductive…"

James decided to stop trying to follow whatever Logan was talking about, because one thing stuck out clear in his mind: it'd be better if he were Carlos. What the hell did that mean? Why would he have a better chance of fucking Logan if he were Carlos? Weren't they just talking about how amazing James was as James? It was starting to sound like everyone was a better choice for Logan than him and it was starting to grate on his nerves. He and Logan weren't as close as Logan was to Kendall and Carlos, but to be last pick was a huge insult.

"James?" a confused wheeze broke into his thoughts. James blinked owlishly at Logan, who was attempting to crane his head to peer behind him unsuccessfully, only managing to knock a horn lightly against James' skull. "Could you loosen up a little?"

It took him a moment to realize that his arms had constricted around Logan's waist of their own volition, to the point of near-crushing him. He slackened his hold immediately, puzzlement marring his expression. "Sorry," he mumbled absently.

Logan shrugged, "Why are you still holding me anyway? What if someone comes in and sees us? We can sit down you know, we have chairs." James peered behind him at the stools of the kitchen counter before shaking his head. Even if sitting down somewhere was the better option, he was just too comfortable to move. "What the hell? Why not?"

"'Cause," was the mumbled explanation he offered, inhaling against Logan's shoulder deeply to calm himself.

He felt Logan tense under his fingers; another reaction to add to the collection. "Uh…are you alright?" Logan asked hesitantly.

His plan was to answer so Logan wouldn't worry and they could speed along. What came out of his mouth was the opposite. "No. Why is Carlos a better option than me? Do you like him more?" He sounded petty and jealous and whiny in his own ears, but he couldn't find it within himself to care.

"You say that like you think I'd prefer him over you." James didn't respond to the bait. "I said that because Carlos and I are in the same family, so he and I are more similar than you and I are, not because I like him more than you or anything."

"Dude, that's creepy, and you're not even Hispanic."

Logan slapped his palm against his forehead. "No, James, not literal family, biological family. You know, Carlos and I are bovids, just like you and Kendall are canids?"

James nodded, even though he didn't understand. All he knew was that he was that he wasn't Logan's last choice, which made him feel a lot better. "Right, sure. So, can we get to fucking now?"

"No!" squeaked Logan. "Didn't you just hear me? I said sheep and foxes aren't similar enough species to–"

"Aren't we both half human too?"

That stumped Logan for a moment, James was proud to say. The fingers on his arm gripped tightly, and there was that squirming again, his back sliding against James' tank top. It was really distracting. "Oh…I forgot about that." That was the second issue he'd gotten rid of.

James grinned, "Cool, let's go then!" He was fully prepared to hoist Logan up to carry him to either of their bedrooms, but Logan was pursing his lips in that disapproving way of his – kind of Mrs. Knight did sometimes – which meant he still wasn't on board for the idea. "Oh, come onnn, what's wrong now?" he whined pitiably, frowning at the front door. The longer Logan took to agree, the more chance they had of being caught.

"How do you even know this will work?" Logan faced forward, meaning he was honestly considering it, which meant James was almost home-free. He had to bring out the big guns. He had to put on a performance from the dark side of Logan Persuasion.

He had to delve into Camille territory.

James gave himself a moment of poignant silence, thinking of every sad thing his mind could work up –dead kittens, orphans, himself on a bad hair day. "I don't know if it will, but…" he sniffled against Logan's neck, "…I'm willing to try anything, you know?"

"James, are you…crying?"

He wasn't, not fully, but the sting in his eyes told him the waterworks would be more than convincing enough. "You don't know what it's like, Logan, being hungry for so long." A tear trailed down James' cheek dramatically. He made sure to rub it into Logan's skin to drive home the unseen despair. "I mean, ever since I met you ten years ago–"

"Nine years."

"–nine years ago, I've had this stupid ache in my stomach. It feels like Carlos keeps head-butting me and his horns are stabbing me to death, all because of you and how you smell and stuff, and I've tried everything to get rid of but nothing works and sometimes I'm in so much pain I just wanna…wanna…" James trailed off, dissolving into a fit of pathetic hiccups and sniffles.

"Oh my God, James!" Logan started to panic, twisting himself around in James' arms until they were facing one another, forehead wrinkled with concerns and eyes wide. James ignored the feeling of Logan's skin sliding against his palms because he was performing. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was that bad! I-I didn't – do you need to go to the hospital, or–"

James shook his head vehemently, tears openly streaming down his face. "I just want to try this one thing. I know it might not work, and I guess you don't want to do it, but…"

"No, no, it's alright, we can try it." Logan's fingers bunched into the fabric of James' shirt, urging James to look at him. "I mean, it's not like I haven't, y'know, thought of it before, so it's not a big deal," he blushed and shrugged." We can try it, so stop crying, dude, please! I know it's my fault."

James stopped sniffling, giving Logan a watery, hopeful smile. "Really, we can? Right now?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

After one last theatrical sniffle and swipe of his hand to clear the wetness from his cheeks, James gave Logan a sunny smile. "Sweet, I thought that only worked for girls."

It was amusing watching the expressions morph on Logan's face. First was confusion, followed closely by realization and surprise, and then, anger. "You were faking!"

"And you made a promise," James goaded cheekily. He allowed Logan one good punch to his chest –to make his conscience feel better about the trickery – before he was hoisting his friend back over his shoulder, something warm blooming in his chest at the comfortable weight. He and Logan really didn't spend enough time together.

Unfortunately, Logan was flailing around too much for James to move so he could carry him to one of their rooms, and his back was starting to smart Logan's fists incessantly pounding on it. James frowned at the trouble Logan was making over nothing. "You're such a dick. I hate you," Logan said and delivered another punch to James' back. James didn't take any of it seriously.

James trapped Logan's legs with an arm. "A dick you think about fucking, right, Logan?" he said with a lewd grin, one he wished Logan could see. That stopped Logan's struggling easily enough, most likely due to shock or embarrassment. It really didn't matter; it was a pretty flattering thought, and flattery was the easiest way to James' heart.

His and Carlos' room was closer, James decided, twisting around the orange couch and avoiding knocking Logan into anything. "Why do you keep carrying me?" Logan griped. James could feel his fingernails scraping against his legs, meaning Logan was just sort of…hanging. "Is this some of kind of troglodytic sex ritual? It's not cool, I'm getting a headache."

"I dunno what that means," James answered simply, hoping Logan wouldn't explain it to him. Entering his room, James locked the door behind him – Carlos would have to deal – before depositing Logan onto the bottom bunk bed, failing to hide his smile when Logan bleated and bounced on the mattress. The glower he received wasn't friendly in the least. It was enough to distract him from the oddly uncomfortable loss of warmth.

"It means you're about thirty-two thousand years behind with your people skills," Logan explained in his Sarcasm Voice, so it was better that James didn't understand it else his feelings would be hurt. Logan scooted to the edge of the mattress, looking down at it with pursed lips. "This isn't even your bed."

"Uh, duh? I'm not getting jizz on my bed," James grimaced.

"And you think Carlos wants it on his bed?" Logan deadpanned with an incredulous eye. James shrugged airily – really, Logan was focusing on the wrong things – and settled one knee on the bed facing Logan, his fingers gripping the bottom hem of his tank top in preparation for ridding himself of troublesome clothing. He'd only revealed the tiniest slip of his stomach when Logan was interrupting him. With more words. "Woah, wait, what are you doing?"

James paused, arms crossed awkwardly over his stomach. "Um…taking off my clothes? Unless you want to do this with clothes on, I guess." It wouldn't really make a difference; Logan was only in trunks anyway. Hadn't he been wearing flip-flops?

"No, not that," Logan shook his head. "I meant, why are you taking them off now? Shouldn't we…you know," he trailed off, and he brought his hands together in some vague simulation of whatever he was talking about – only, his index and middle fingers were mashing between each other and it kind of looked he wanted to scissor, which, what?

"I think that only works for girls, Logan," James voiced his thoughts helpfully.

Logan blinked at him blankly for a moment before frowning. "That's not – I meant foreplay!" he yelled, then blanched and looked around, as if to make sure no one had heard his volume. It didn't make sense, seeing as they were the only two in the room – in the entire apartment, but that wasn't the important part.

Forgetting his shirt for the moment, James pressed his knuckles into the mattress and leaned forward on his hands slowly, hazel eyes peering into Logan's brown ones as he closed the distance between their faces. Logan's eyes widened, characteristic of the helpless little prey he claimed not to be, and his tongue darted out to swipe along his lips. Whether that slight motion had been anticipatory or unconscious, James didn't know, but it made his tail curl upward in fiendish delight all the same.

He was only a breath away from Logan's lips when he paused, eyes demanding that Logan's gaze stay firmly on him. It would've been so easy and quick just to move forward the inch between them and press his lips to Logan's, to lick and bite at a piece of the meal he'd hungered for since day one, but how he could he trust himself? Getting to taste Logan and sink his fangs into those insanely plump lips would end up with Logan…losing his lips. He probably wouldn't want to fuck if he was lipless.

Instead of doing what he desperately wanted – and what Logan wanted, if his words and his moistened lips and his eyes flickering between James eyes and lips were any indication – James smirked teasingly and said, "You wanna kiss me, don't ya?"

Logan's face twisted sourly and he scooted as far away as he could, which wasn't very far since he was already near the edge of the bed. "Shut up, it was just a thought. Doesn't matter to me," he muttered unconvincingly. "Let's just get this over with."

Knowing Logan's unpleasant attitude would make for an equally unpleasant experience, James' brain immediately stormed for ways to change his disposition. Well, thought of a way – singular – because James acted on the first idea that came to him, which was to pounce, knocking Logan back flat on the bed, bracing himself on all fours above Logan.

That method didn't really solve the irritation so much as alter it. Logan's head was trapped between James' arms and his hips between James' knees, and his hands were pushing at James' chest in a halfhearted attempt to shove him off. His lips were set in a disapproving line, meaning he was no longer 'You're pissing me off' annoyed anymore, but 'You're an idiot' annoyed, which was Logan's default attitude.

Or maybe not. It was all speculation.

"Sorry. Habit," James apologized lowly. He didn't know why his voice suddenly decided it could barely raise above a whisper, not that it ever could when he was so intimately close to Logan.

"You developed an aggressive habit in less than an hour?" Logan returned, though his soft tone didn't match the bite of his words –like he shared the effect James felt from their proximity. And he was back to squirming again, shifting his body underneath James and occasionally knocking his horns against James' wrist, not trying to escape or anything, just moving.

His brain-to-mouth filter didn't bother existing, as was its wont. "Why do you keep doing that?" James questioned, gaze drifting down to watch the muscles of Logan's abdomen twitch and writhe shallowly beneath his skin. The sight alone made his tail swish with mild thrill.

"Doing what?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"You get all wiggly and squirmy whenever I get close to you, like a worm or something."

At that, Logan's body still underneath and his hands lowered from James' chest, lying uselessly on the bed. "I didn't know I was doing that…"

"Are you creeped out by being close to me?" James asked, gut twisting with anticipation.

Logan glared at him with his 'You're an idiot' annoyed face, "No way, of course not. That doesn't even make sense."

"Positive?" James lowered his head closer to Logan until their noses were nearly touching, half for experimental purposes, half for personal pleasure.

"Yes, James," Logan's hands returned to James' chest to stop him. "You don't creep me out that much. I, uh…" he trailed off, his eyes wandering off to the side – away from James. "I don't know what it is. I'm sorry."

James grinned, baring his sharp fangs. "Don't be," he quickly settled down on his elbows and buried his nose in the right side of Logan's neck before he could protest, inhaling leisurely. "It's cute," James spoke against Logan's neck, sliding his lips deliberately against Logan's skin, not quite tasting it just yet.

The fingers at James' chest twitched on cue, gripping lightly through the thin cotton of his top. "Flattery won't get you anywhere," mumbled Logan.

"I've already got you in bed. I don't know how much further I can get," a puff of laughter fell from James' lips, warm air ghosting over Logan's neck, bringing out an unconscious shiver from him. James paused for a moment, mind reeling over the way Logan's body reacted to the tiniest sensations, before poking his tongue between his lips and flicking it over already teased skin.

It wasn't enough for James to taste his prey, but it was enough to tantalize Logan's nerves, his body quaking briefly and his lungs inhaling harshly – and James could feel none of it, only see it. It bugged him. How was he supposed to fully enjoy the myriad of reactions every touch garnered from Logan if he couldn't feel him?

Those thoughts in mind, James lifted himself into a kneeling position above Logan and swiftly removed his top, too impatient to deal with anymore of Logan's protests – not that he had anything to worry about, really. Logan's eyes were too busy eagerly taking in the breathtaking sight of a shirtless James Diamond and, though James desperately wanted to tease him about that, being admired always took top priority. Logan really didn't admire him enough, but soon enough, even that couldn't compare the anticipation of tasting Logan– this time while fully awake and fully prepared to enjoy his feast.

When James did dip down to drag his tongue roughly along the defined line of Logan's jaw, what he tasted was absolutely indescribable. Okay, it tasted like skin mostly, with the salty flavor of sweat, but underneath all of that was that specific flavor he couldn't put into words – not just because he wasn't a poet and didn't know tons of adjectives and junk, but because it was so sweet and enticing and unbelievable and Logan. Or, that was what his brain and his nose and his stomach decided the flavor was – pure extract of Logan.

He really needed to get it in a bottle.

James' self control was in full swing. Never once did he bite Logan as he trailed down from the sweet taste of his neck, down the expanse of his abdomen, only using his tongue and maybe leaving a few nips here and there, but Logan made all sorts of keening noises whenever he scraped a sharp fang shallowly against his skin or nibbled on a receptive nipple, so a little biting was okay.

He'd bring it up with Logan later.

His lips caught onto the edge of Logan's trunks and his fingers pulled them down deftly, dragging Logan until his knees hung off the edge of while James kneeled between them. Logan was too busy with his weird breathing to notice he'd lost the last barrier to keep James from seeing that, hey, Logan was sporting a full grown erection already, blood-pumped head already weeping clear, pearly fluid. James beamed; he'd barely had to touch Logan to get him hard. That thought sent a surge of pride to James' chest, as well as pointed twitching to the front of his own trunks.

Curious, James gripped the base of Logan's cock and leaned in to lap delicately at the tip, smearing pre-leak and saliva around purposefully. It wasn't necessarily a good taste, but it wasn't awful.

Probably not the liquid form he wanted Logan's flavor in.

Logan's breathing filtered into James' ears, stilted and shuddering. James' eyes flew up to the sight of Logan, head turned to the side and eyes clenched tightly. One of his hands was wound into the hoop of his horn, the other bunched into the bedspread, black fingernails contrasting sharply with white fabric. James' eyes drunk in the image while his tongue swiped at Logan's cock once more, swirling teasingly around the head. Logan's hips shifted and his lips parted to blow out a puff of air.

Given Logan's consistent reactions, the last thing James expected to happen when he dove down to take Logan's dick between his lips was a hand grabbing his hair – his hair – to pull him off – off – the erection immediately.

"What the hell?" James griped and pulled out of Logan's grasp, ears drooping sourly as he fixed his hair.

"I'm not letting you blow me," Logan said and scooted back until he was fully on the bed.

"Huh? Why not?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, "Um, you'll bite it?"

James blinked for a moment, then his face flushed in something – embarrassment or displeasure. It was never a good feeling knowing Logan had so little faith in him, even if it was a good reason. "I'm not going to bite you, dude!"

"How do I know that?"

"Have I bitten you this whole time – well, hard?" James amended after a tick.

"No, but do you really thing I'd risk this?" Logan gestured vaguely to his dick, which was still impressively hard in light of its perceived endangerment. "Would you?"

"Fine," James huffed childishly instead of giving Logan the satisfaction of his agreement. A sparkling white grin lit up James' face, devilish enough to wipe any arrogance from Logan's. "I'll find another way to get you to make those noises then."

"What noises? I didn't make any noises," Logan defended with a bristled tone, not yet aware of James crawling onto the bed at a measured pace, tail swishing idly in the air. "Wait, what are you – James, don't," Logan frowned and pointed to James sternly, signaling for him to halt. James didn't pay it any mind. "I'm serious. Whatever you're thinking about doing…"

By the time Logan worked up the nerve to actually try and flee, it was too late. He'd only made it a few inches before James was on top of him, using his entire body weight to pin Logan prostrate on the mattress. It was almost too much, having Logan's heated flesh glide against his own, grunting and his hips bucking in vain effort to throw James off – Logan was lucky there still a barrier between his bare ass and James' dick.

That was, until James removed his trunks after a series of awkward twists, made more difficult by Logan's struggling.

When James settled down, his cock nestled cozily in the cleft of Logan's ass, Logan finally gave up trying to knock him off. "You know, you're pretty heavy," Logan mumbled into the sheets.

James gasped in mock offense, "I am not." He leaned in close to trail his tongue along the edge of Logan's ear, sure to graze his teeth against the pointed tip maddeningly. "Quit being mean."

Logan grumbled something unintelligible, breathing becoming more uneven the harder James bit into his ear – a really confusing signal. Another soft sound drifted into James ears, enjoyable enough to make him grind earnestly into Logan's backside. James had wanted the experience to last as long as possible, but he knew he wouldn't last much longer if Logan didn't stop being so Logan.

He brought his fingers to Logan mouth, nudging them against his lips. "Help out, would ya?" James asked, hoping to get the unpleasantness over with quickly.

Logan didn't allow him that, as usual. "I don't think so. I don't know where your hands have been."

"They've been all over you," James rolled his eyes, moving to kiss the nape of Logan's neck. "Trust me, it'll be a lot easier if you–"

Before he could finish his piece, Logan had already sucked the presented fingers into his mouth. Caught off guard, James let out a mortifying mewl, unconsciously rocking his hips into Logan. Logan's lips sucked on his fingers down to the first knuckles, wrapping his tongue around the digits and wetting them liberally. James had to distract himself from the feeling of Logan's tongue gliding against his finger pads. He left a trail of sloppy kisses and angry red bite marks down Logan's back, free hand absently kneading into Logan's backside.

Once Logan let James' fingers pop lewdly from his mouth, James lowered the slickened digits to Logan's entrance, mindful of his claws as he slipped a finger inside.

Logan gave a discomfited grunt when James increased the amount of digits inside him. "Be careful."

"I know what to do, sort of," James replied, muffled with his lips pressed against Logan's lower back.

"That – ah – totally makes me feel better," Logan grunted again when James pressed a few fingers knuckles deep inside him, testing out how loose Logan was.

"You're being all negative, Logan," James informed, sliding his fingers out of Logan fluidly. He spread Logan's legs and kneeled between them, spitting a generous amount of saliva into his hand to slather around his cock in preparation. "You need to chill out for this."

"Chill? How am I supposed to chill when you're about to – fu-huck!" Logan's spiel was interrupted by James pushing the head of his cock past Logan's entrance, claws digging firmly into Logan's hips. James sucked in a harsh breath between clenched teeth, eyes fixated on the image of his dick vanishing inch by inch into Logan's surprisingly accepting hole. "You could've given me a warning!" Logan said through a groan.

"I said chill out for this," James growled out, trying to focus on more important things – like the fact that his dick felt like it'd been smothered in velvety heaven and squeezed to perfection. "S'not my fault you didn't listen."

Logan turned his head to try and scowl back at James, "That's not a good warning!"

James didn't bother debating with him, busy pushing himself inside Logan until he was fully seated. He let out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding and lowered his upper body until he was flat on top of Logan's back, humming pleasurably at the missed contact.

It took a minute or so, but soon enough Logan was shifting his hips back into James, his wooly tail brushing against James stomach. "You can…move now," Logan muttered breathily.

James followed the order without fail, keeping a vigilant eye on the expressions passing over Logan's face. He pulled out slowly, until only the head of his dick was still inside Logan, before sinking back in evenly, shuddering at the pleasant friction against the sensitive skin. Logan's eyes shut languidly, inhaling in short gasps and rocking his hips back and forth against James continued motion.

It wasn't until he'd began fucking Logan in earnest that James realized that Logan was thrusting against the mattress, that Logan getting off on only that meager stimulation and his dick pounding inside him. That thought sent him driving Logan harder into Carlos' bed, sliding his hand up Logan's arms to thread their fingers together and gnawing down Logan's shoulder, hoping to get Logan off before himself.

He succeeded. Logan turned and buried his face into the mattress to muffle a long moan, his hips bucking shakily. James followed soon after, pressing himself as deeply into Logan as he could as the waves of his orgasm crashed over him. There was so much relief in that one, fleeting moment that James–

"James!"

Logan's screech startled James into awareness and – oh, he was still biting Logan's shoulder. Hard. That wasn't good. James unclenched his jaw quickly and rolled off of Logan, his still erect cock slipping out with the movement.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" James backed away from Logan, just in case his scowling – friend? – decided to ram into him for revenge. "I seriously didn't mean to do that. I got caught up in the moment and…" His tongue ran oddly over his teeth, catching the coppery taste of blood. James cringed at the flavor and wiped at his lips with an arm, glaring at his arm.

Logan didn't saying anything sarcastic or hurtful in return, or anything at all, actually. The anger had drained from his face and he moved into a sitting position, blinking at James curiously. "You didn't like how that tasted?"

James shook his head immediately, and then he caught onto what Logan was hacking at. "You taste gross! Ha, I told you it would work," James pumped a victorious fist into the air, tail curling with glee while he cheered. There was no way he wouldn't celebrate being correct over Logan; it was too much of a rarity.

Logan rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least this is all over now." He slipped off the bed and wandered over to James' full-length mirror, wobbling noticeably and cringing in pain, cursing under his breath. James stopped cheering, ready to question where Logan was going, until a much louder curse fell from Logan's mouth. "Holy shit!" Logan whipped around to glare murderously as James. "Look at what you did to me!" he gestured wildly to his nude body.

Because he was so indulgent, James surveyed Logan's body appreciatively, nodding at the numerous red marks covering his torso, front and back, from where James had nipped, the bruising indentations in Logan's hips where James' claws had dug in forcefully, the large hickeys covering the elegant expanse of his neck, and yes, those three or four sets of teeth imprints that traveled down his right shoulder. Everything was exactly where he'd left it.

"I know," James smiled. "You like 'em?"

Logan tilted his head, as if James had lost all sense of reason. "No! I won't be able to take my shirt off in public anymore. People will think I got mauled or something."

"That's kind of the point. I told you you'd get protection." Logan gave him a flat stare, which meant that, unfortunately, more explanation was in order. "You're not supposed to hide them. When people those marks and smell me on you, they'll know you belong to me and you're totally off the menu. Don't worry, it goes both ways. Kind of."

Logan was giving him the 'You're an idiot' face again, before some sudden horror dawned on him. "Oh my God, everyone's going to smell you! Oh my – Kendall's going to smell you, and Mrs. Knight." Then, his face turned an ashen color. "Katie's going to smell you," he moaned miserably and dropped his face into his hands. James just shrugged it off; was it really that big a deal? Wasn't Logan aware that they had other business to get back to?

Apparently he wasn't, because he was walking toward the door blindly, hands still over face. "Wait! Where're you going?" James flipped himself over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Logan lifted his head with and gave a sour frown.

"I'm going to go get a cold spoon."

"Oh, alright." No, he didn't understand why. "But, can't that wait until after we're done?"

"…after we're done with what?" Logan narrowed his brown eyes suspiciously. At that, James opened legs wide and pointed down so Logan that they clearly had more work, his stiff length bobbing to attention. "Are you serious?"

James nodded eagerly with a toothy grin.

Logan wasn't having it.

The sheep took a purposeful step toward the door, intent on leaving, and James' body moved on instinct. Before his brain even caught up with his actions, he'd leapt from his seat on the bed and tackled Logan to the carpet, pinning Logan on his left side, James hands trapping him front and back. "Fuck," groaned Logan, trying to free his arms to do bodily harm. "What is wrong with you today?"

"Pleeease?" James whined, rubbing his need against Logan's hip wantonly

Logan coughed and blushed, which didn't make any sense. They'd already fucked, how could he still be embarrassed? "We've already been at this for a while, and I need to clean out my bite wounds before they get infected. Besides, you're cured of the problem, so I don't see why–"

James looped his finger into Logan's horns to angle Logan's face upward and lowered his head to press his lips against Logan's, immediately silencing him. It'd been another instinctive move on James' parts, but with his lips melding perfectly against Logan's, tasting vaguely of the sweet grass balls that James had, before now, hated, he couldn't find himself caring anymore than usual.

He pulled back slowly, hazel eyes darting between Logan's shocked brown ones searchingly. "Please?" he tried again in a softer voice.

Logan had a visible internal debate – during which James was silently rooting for his side – before sighing deeply and pursing his lips, which loosely translated into 'I hate you so much for making me do this and I can't wait until I find new friends to replace you'.

James responded by grinning happily and wrapping his arms around Logan, preparing to haul him up. "It probably won't take long, don't worry."

––

An hour and some later, after pouring a ridiculous amount of cum into his best-friend-mate, James had finally let free, albeit begrudgingly since he'd been denied post-sex cuddling. Logan had given him his 'I don't want to talk to or see you for at least one hour' glare before leaving, wincing in pain and holding fresh bite marks.

It had been a necessary evil as far as James was concerned. Not only did he no longer have to worry about others trying to snack on Logan, but he didn't have to worry about himself trying to either. It was the best plan he'd ever half-way concocted, and the only foreseeable problem was Mrs. Knight giving them The Talk once she saw Logan.

James had considered everything a success until late that evening. After finding out what had transpired in his bed, Carlos had demanded to share James' bed, which James had been reasonably inclined to accept. That night equated to him getting absolutely zero beauty sleep, because not only was Carlos a sleep kicker – and sleep puncher, and sleep try and stab you in the eye with my horns headbutter – but every time James closed his eyelids, the first thing he saw behind them was Logan; Logan nude and panting unevenly, Logan lounging in the pool, Logan reading a book on the couch.

He'd popped a boner to Logan, fully clothed and modest, reading a book. What the actual fuck?

Initially, he'd figured it was only because they'd had sex earlier – it was natural to think of things like that afterward, right? Only, the images didn't stop after that night, neither did they stop the following two nights. Frankly, it was annoying, both having to jerk off each night to thoughts of Logan and not getting the solid eight hours of rest his delicate skin required.

Situations were even worse when he was around Logan. No longer did he hunger to see his best-friend-mate grilled and served on platter. Even when a tiny whiff of Logan invaded his frustratingly excellent nose, the quake in his stomach ceased to exist.

Now when Logan decided to be a tease and stretch any part of his body like he didn't know it teased the fuck out of James, there was no desire to tear into the muscle with his teeth. He wanted to touch every bit of skin Logan flashed and lick and kiss and enjoy it in some slow, romantic process that ended with them fucking. Logan was okay with that.

Now when he and Logan wrestled over something silly and James felt Logan's fit body writhe against his, his mind flashed back to the first time they'd ever mated and his first instinct was to fuck Logan into any available surface – the couch, the kitchen table, any bed, a wall, Lucy's coffee table. Most times Logan indulged him after a few weak protests if they weren't in public, which was awesome.

Now when Logan emerged from the bathroom after a hot shower, skin pink and clean and steaming and Jesus, James wanted to push him right back into the bathroom so he could proclaim that Logan wasn't nearly clean enough and hop back into the shower with him to…help him finish. Logan had only allowed that one glorious time so far, and only because James had silenced him with a blowjob. He'd make sure it happened more often.

Needless to say, James' plan hadn't been nearly as successfully as he'd first thought, but it was certainly a better alternative. He knew Logan enjoyed it as well, no matter how much he put on his 'angry librarian' face. That counted for something, right?

Sure, he could've tried to come up with another plan to fix his new hunger, but why bother going through that trouble?

He was more of a 'big picture' sort of guy anyway.