Title: Inferno

Summary: "Because if there was one person on this planet that I honestly, inexplicably, undeniably hated... it was Kendall Knight." Perhaps the most insignificant alterations have the most severe affect upon the future. Slash.

Warning: Physical violence and coarse language. It's extremely OOC (or maybe it isn't... I don't even know) and takes place back in Minnesota, but I think a lot of you will like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush of any of the characters involved. No copyright infringement intended.

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."
-Isaac Newton.

"Hate is such a luxurious emotion, it can only be spent on one we love."
-Bob Udkoff.

I felt like I was stuck within a synapse of consistent energy flow—heat flooding through every fissure and vesicle, until I was surrounded by it completely. My skin was alight with color, ornate flames dancing beneath my ribcage, thriving off from the excessive adrenaline flow. Every muscle in my body was taut and strained, flexing instinctively, impulsively, reacting to the sudden proximity of such a natural born enemy.

Because if there was one person on this planet that I honestly, inexplicably, undeniably hated... it was Kendall Knight.

A shudder ran up mine spine, more flames, more heat, so much that I felt as though I was being sucked straight down into the seventh layer of hell. If anything, that would at least explain his presence.

"What the fuck?" I seethed, my glare turning deadly.

And abruptly, his previously blank expression exploded with emotion, almost as though physical recognition caused him to snap back to reality. He narrowed his eyes dangerously, the naturally light green band of his irises darkening with enmity.

I took an instinctive step backwards, my body pressed against the solid oak-wood door and my hand desperately clutching the knob, knuckles turning white from the force. I attempted to suppress the rapidly building rage, tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I jiggled the handle. Once. Twice. Fuck. "No... no, no, no... you've got to be kidding me."

I turned around, facing the door as I shook the door handle more furiously, trying to escape this forced and personalized perdition. My mind was reeling, scouring for an exit of any sort and coming up empty handed when the door refused to budge.

Kendall still hadn't said a word.

"We're locked in... they locked us in," I hissed. "Fuckin' hockey team..."

I rested my forehead against the door, sighing in defeat as I clenched my eyes shut. I fought against every single indigenous response my body was throwing at me, knowing that the only way for either of us to get out here unscathed was to attempt civility.

I turned around, taking a deep, steady breath as my gaze met his once again. There was a type of intensity within his verdant eyes that was unmistakable, laced with several degrees of heated fury. I was being scorched from the inside out by the emotions that were slowly amplifying once again, and I had to physically force a remotely submissive posture.

Kendall's lips were set in a tight line, his face veiled by shadows that made his expression appear even darker. The phrase 'if looks could kill' came to mind, and I immediately felt a distinct sense of satisfaction knowing that I was the reason his visage was marred with such distress. I grinned darkly, unable to maintain the amiable mindset when he was just so fucking close.

His glare deepened, and finally he spoke, "What are you grinning about?" Every word was pronounced so slowly, coated and saturated with contempt that ran so deeply, it screamed rendition.

"You look like you're about to punch a wall... It's fucking satisfying to know that I have that big of an affect on you."

"I really, really hate you..." he paused, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. "If I knew that it wouldn't cause my immediate expulsion from the team... I would punch you so hard in the face that wouldn't know which way was up."

I shook my head, my expression skeptical as I took a step toward him. "You're so arrogant it's unbelievable. Good to know you carry such a high opinion of yourself, someone has too."

"Logan... Get the fuck away from me..."

Every ounce of my previously existing rationality diminished into nothing as I took another step closer, approximately four feet separating us in the small, dimly lit supply closet. My heartbeat was racing beneath my ribcage, adrenaline flooding throughout my body as my sympathetic nervous systems screamed fight.

Do. It.

Just fucking do it.

My body was reacting in every expected way, and I couldn't control myself as I took another impulsive step forward."What's the matter? Afraid of a little challenge, huh? Afraid I might actually fuck up that pretty little face of yours?"

I knew that I was putting a lot on the line—gambling against better odds and intentionally provoking him, but I couldn't seem to fight against the pull. The electric charge buzzing throughout the entire room, forcibly moving me towards him. There was a torrid flame swimming through every vein and artery, exploding in sudden bouts; my senses were heightened to unimaginable levels, and I was hyper-aware of every move, every sound, every little breath or gasp for air.

I stopped at a solid three feet away from him, my muscles constricting as I matched his domineering disposition. I narrowed my eyes, trying desperately to convey every ounce resentment and loathing I felt buzzing through my nervous system.

Kendall's gaze grew impossibly darker, and a trill of pure excitement shot up my spine. I couldn't seem to explain it, nor justify it even to myself, but with ever step I took, I felt a wave of warm electricity overwhelm me, and the sensation was oddly pleasant. There was an edge to the atmosphere, the charge enhancing and despite my best efforts at trying to understand, it simply made no sense.

"Stop, " he growled and suddenly, a surge of pure and unadulterated arousal shot throughout my body. I felt a slight twinge of confusion before it was destroyed by the rapid flames, scorching their way through my body and burning everything in sight.

Hate, anger, disgust, revulsion.

Heat, electricity, charge, pull.

Want, want, need. Now.

Another step toward him, another foot closer and my entire body was humming with appreciation. Kendall's expression was solid and concrete, and his eyes were suffused with emotion. They spoke volumes.

Get the fuck away from me.

I hate you.

If I could kill you... oh.

I want you... so, so badly.

Now, now, now.

I grinned crookedly, deviously, provocatively. "Make me."

Kendall threw his head back slightly, his eyes closing as a low groan escaped him—a deep, muddled sound and so completely and obviously a noise of irritation, and not at all a noise of unrestrained and irrepressible want. No, not at all.

"Ugnnf, I hate you..." he whispered in a breath sigh, the words almost incomprehensible. "'Mmm wish... I wish you would stop talking... Stop moving, stop breathing, and stop existing. Hate you so much."

One last step, one more foot closer, all inhibitions lost, and my knees seemed to waver under the intensity of the atmosphere, gravity nearly overwhelming me. My lips seemed to move at their own accord. "Then stop me."

In one swift movement, Kendall lunged forward, his hands on my chest, pushing me backwards, farther until my back hit the wall with a loud thud. And he followed my every move, his chest pressed against mine, and God... he was gasping for air, his heartbeat pounding against my torso.

He watched me for a moment, his eyes dark and clouded with with anger, hate, aversion, passion, desire, lust, now.

And then his lips were on mine, dancing furiously and urgently just like the flames that were slowly consuming every last molecule in my body. We moved in perfect sync—battling, fighting, so desperately needing to gain dominance—but it seemed as though everything was in balance, because although it was filled with hunger and desire it was unexpectedly smooth, soft, and delicate.

I lifted my hands to his shoulders, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling him closer, because I needed more of all of this; more touching, more warmth, more fire and passion and thirst, and more Kendall, so much more Kendall.

He lifted his hands to my hair, tugging gently, pulling me closer as our lips continued to move with perfect coexistence.

And it made absolutely no fucking sense, because everything seemed to contradict itself. We were rough and intolerant with each other, but every move we made was defined by delicacy and tender consideration. We hated each other, but we both held on so desperately to keep the other near. We fought, bickered, teased, and provoked, but now it was all soft touches, gentle caresses, and warmth.

I couldn't stand him, but the thought of losing him made my chest ache.

Kendall pulled back from the kiss, gasping softly as he watched me with eyes like transparency—like I could see straight through him. Emotions ranging from hate to lust coloring his expressive gaze, but one in particular really stood out. Affection.

I knew my eyes were just as revealing, mirroring every emotion impeccably as I stared at him intently, seeking answers to questions that neither of us ever knew existed. Kendall's cheeks were ablaze with color as he rested his forehead on mine, his hands running through my hair.

And it was all warm assurances and promises; uncharacteristically gentle and tender as we whispered so quietly, almost as though we were afraid that any sudden movements or loud noises would break the connection, and it would all be lost. Even our faint murmurs contradicted each other.

"Oh, god... I want you."

"I really don't like you..."

"Don't leave."

"You're insufferable."

"Yeah? So are you."

We were both so spell-bound, wound up like a tight spring ready to snap. It felt as though we were at an impasse, like the world was balancing on the head of a pin and one little side step would cause everything to go tumbling down.

Suddenly a loud knock resonated throughout the room, shattering the tangibility of every emotion as we both whipped our head around to stare at the door. But I still had my arms wrapped around Kendall, and he was still holding me against his chest, and that factor alone told me everything I needed to know.

"It's quiet in there... Did you guys finally work out your differences or did you just kill each other?" James' voice was muffled from the other side of the door, an unmistakable concern laced in his tone that conveyed his genuine uncertainty.

Kendall paused before turning his attention to me, his eyes blazing with tenderness as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. "I could kill you...you're so annoying," he whispered against my lips, smiling softly.

"Mmphhf, I hate you..." I said, so softly as I pressed my lips closer to his, applying pressure. "Come over tonight? Please?"

"Definitely." Kendall whispered, his eyes brightening imperceptible with a slight gleam. He sighed deeply, casting his eyes downward as he pulled back slowly, regrettably, and faced the door. "What was the purpose of this James? Seriously?"

"Really. Was it entirely necessary?" I added, running a hand through my hair, attempting to tame it.

James opened the door slowly, his head peeking around the oak-wood as he offered us a sheepish grin. "Are you guys going to stop fighting now that we've locked you in a supply closet and forced you to be civil?"

Kendall pulled the door open and we both walked out toward the arena, James following close behind us with a hopeful expression.

"I thought I was gonna have to slam my head against the damn wall... just hope that enough blunt force trauma would be enough to cause hemorrhaging," I mumbled. "Would have been a better alternative to staying locked in there with you for another minute." I glared deeply at Kendall, so much fervency and emotion, so large of a paradox that I wasn't lying, but it was the farthest thing from the truth. And I knew my brown eyes held so much more meaning—such a hidden ambiguity that only Kendall could notice it for what it was really worth.

I was still so hyper-aware of his every move, his every breath and every subtle twitch at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah? Hey, fuck you."

"You're an asshole."

"Prick."

So what if we were too caught up with insulting each other to really notice James' sigh of resignation as he offered Carlos an obscured glace that said: It didn't work; nothing will ever work. So what if, when James was walking away from us, I unconsciously leaned a little bit closer to Kendall, seeking out the warmth that seemed to permeate off from him. And so what if every little insult, lingering touch, and inconspicuous smile meant something so much more significant than it had previously...

And just maybe, I didn't hate Kendall Knight as much as I had initially thought.

Author's Note: I've always thought that there was a fine line between love and hate, and that entire concept has always intrigued me. So I wanted to play around with it, blur the lines, and turn it into a Kendall and Logan slash fic. I really hope that everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I'm really hoping to hear some thoughts. So please, please, please review? Pretty please? With a cherry on top? ;D

Oh, and I've intentionally left the ending to this story open so there is a possibility I may add a few chapters at a later date. I guess it all depends on what you guys thinks and whether or not I can produce something worth reading. So tell me if you would like to see a few more chapters, perhaps.

Thanks! :)