Hey, Atticus here with number 5 of my slashy sixpack. This one is a little bit different, but I hope you like it anyway. Please forgive the excess of sap...it's not my usual style, but I hope it works.

Nothing is mine, and all that jazz
XXX

You're so much better than the shallow bitch you act like sometimes. You're better than your stupid lucky comb or your overdone outfits. You're worth more than your pretty face.

I like you better when you act like you. I like when we all get a minute to be four teenage guys, when we can play around and you're not too scared of ruining your hair. I like when we sit next to each other doing our homework. Then it's just you and me. Kendall and Carlos are too rowdy to just sit and study, but you do a lot better with the academic stuff than anyone would guess. You're sharp and focused and good at getting things done. I love that about you.

I hate when you act like you're too cool for me. I know that you put on the James Diamond show to lock everyone out. It's how you stay safe. Nobody can hurt what they can't touch. I hate that you put me in that category. I've known you for twelve years and sometimes you act like I'm just another face in the crowd.

We were four when we met. My family moved in next door to yours and we traded toys in the back yard, my stethoscope for your microphone. When we went to kindergarten, we made friends with Carlos and Kendall, but they didn't know all the things I knew.

As we got older, I'm the one who heard your parents scream at each other all night. I'm the one who let you sneak into my window to get away. You taught me to sing because you wanted something else to listen to. You used to come to me for everything.

When we were eight, I stated to lose you. When your mom left, you stopped coming over. Your house was scarily quiet and I stayed up every night for a week waiting for you. A month later, when Kendall's dad died, you and him found something to bond over that Carlos and I were blessed enough not to understand. You weren't my Jimmy anymore. That's when the persona started to come out; when you started to turn hard. You always came back to me, though, whenever you needed something. I gave you quiet. I gave you a place to cry. I gave you love.

Time kept moving and with school and hockey, we all stayed close. The four of us were a team, but there was less and less you and me. When we came to Hollywood, we all kinda became brothers. Not that my feelings for you are remotely brotherly. I've long since come to terms with that, after a very graphic dream and many subsequent sleepless nights filled with thoughts of you that started when we were thirteen. We lived together, spent all our time together, working for your dream. It's funny that I never felt so far away from you as I did when we moved in together at the Palm Woods.

I know all your defense mechanisms. I know that you put on The Face so you never have to feel like that sad little boy you left in St. Paul. I know it bothers you sometimes that I know so much about you; that I've seen you cry. You think that you're weak, and that I think you're weak. You've convinced yourself that pushing me away pushes your weaknesses away.

I hate that you're so insecure. You're like a lost dog, wandering, just trying to find your way, only to end up kicked down and pushed away. It makes you harder, every time someone knocks you down, you bounce back up, but it chips away at you. I hate that. I hate watching your sweet vulnerability morph into...whatever it is you're becoming. I want to keep you the way you are, shining like a diamond, but not that hard. I want to take care of you, to love you, to be what you need just like I used to be.

A week ago I was ready to give up. You were sitting by the pool, playing celebrity, being too cool for me. You brushed me off when I came to see if you wanted to work on our science project. I was trying to get you on your own. I knew it was your mom's birthday, and I was worried about you. When you told me I was cramping your style, I stormed off. I was losing the ability to care. I ran back to 2J to get away from you, tearing at my hair, frustrated and heartbroken.

You came in while I was having a meltdown. You put your arms around me and lifted me off the ground while I attempted to kick anything I could reach.

"Logan, calm down!"

"Put me down, Jimmy! Let go!" I screamed. You froze. I haven't called you Jimmy since your mom left. Nobody calls you that...nobody but her. I braced myself for your anger, but it didn't come. You put me down and I turned to look at you. Both of us were crying. I went to speak but you cut me off with a soft, deep kiss.

You held my face in your hands, your thumbs swiping at the tears on my cheeks and your lips pressing tenderly to mine, telling me everything I needed to know. You need me still, you want me, you felt it, too. You pulled away breathless, shuffling your feet.

"I'm sorry, Logan...I was a dick"

"Don't sweat it. I know today probably sucks for you. Maybe I overreacted."

You shook your head, eyes intense and bright with feeling. "I'm still sorry. See...sometimes I forget that you know it all. I forget that you always know what's up with me. When you ran off, I guess I realized that I'm not always as there for you as you are for me. It shouldn't be that way."

"And so you kissed me?"

"No...I kissed you because you called me Jimmy and it didn't hurt. It like, woke me up. It's always been you and me, Logan. We should have done that a long time ago."

I smiled and took your hands in mine, kissing them like you used to make me do when you got hurt. "Then it seems like we have some catching up to do," I whispered, and I kissed you again.

I like when I make you smile. I like when the guys notice the real you starting to come through again. I like when you aren't too cool to hold my hand, not too tough to kiss me. I love it when you say you love me.

I like that we pick each other up, that you came through for me just in time to save my heart. It's you and me, and it's all four of us. I like having the best of everything. You're my best friend, you're my soul mate, you're everything to me. You're James Diamond, how could you be anything less?
XXX

So, yeah, very different from what I'm used to writing. Thoughts? Comments? Have I put you in a diabetic-fluff coma? I'd love to hear what you think! -Atticus