Wow, another fic from lightamatchtoleavemebe! ._.

I'm sure you're all getting sick of my repetitive one shots, so here I am, with a brand new chaptered fic!

I have a lot of it planned already, so I'm sure you'll all be sick of this updating every few days.

Here's the slightly extended summary for kicks, I suppose: Kendall has barely gotten over a divorce when he meets the unexpected, yet perfect someone at an art gala he was forced to go to by James. After only promising a short lived romance of two nights, they strike up a relationship. Logan begins to fall for Kendall, and even though it all feels right, Kendall is still hesitant. Little does Kendall know, Logan has been hiding and pushing back a major secret, one that would change their relationship for the worse. Will Kendall ever find out?

Oh, and the title is from the song of the same name by Patrick Stump! The song will come into play in later chapters. And the rating will change, too.

Oh yeah. This is going to be pretty long, I'm hoping.

Thanks for reading.

"I don't know about this, James," I say as we walk up the stairs to the city's art museum, tonight holding the largest annual art gala in the area.

"Sure you do, buddy. Maybe this will be the place to meet the future spouse, you know, since the last one thought you were too different to be married anymore. Or maybe she was boinking her co-worker right under your nose. Which is also unusually large, so that might be the case." He flashes a smile to the doorman as we walk inside.

"Tonight is definitely not the night to be talking about Jo, who happens to be my ex wife," I say through gritted teeth.

"Whatever you say, bro. But I, for one, will enjoy myself tonight. You can do whatever the hell you normally do, but you should remember how you're in public. now, and not alone in your house. " He's looking at his reflection in a platter cover, checking his teeth and straightening his bowtie.

This might be the perfect time to hit him. Or maybe just run, get the fuck out of here.

I don't belong here. I don't belong with these people, these people who've been to every event this museum has ever thrown. I won't end up like these same people, throwing on the same evening dress or the same tie every Friday night until they physically can't get up off their ass to do so.

Formal wear is the absolute worst, though.

But James, he's the star. He'll outshine any single one of these people any day.

But not me.

"Yeah," my voice is hoarse. "I'll be fine hanging here by myself. You go and do something. A girl, perhaps?" Although you're not even gone, I am missing you to death.

He breaks from his reflection to furrow his eyebrows at me, confusion marked all over his face. "Kendall, if you want to leave, that's fine."

My eyes are beginning to fill with tears but I shake them away, clearing my throat. "No, I am good. I want you to have fun."

"You sure?" He's staring into me, catching onto my facade.

I nod, biting my lip. "Yeah, yeah it is."

He smiles empathetically, patting my shoulder. "You're a great friend, I hope you know that!" His eyes are on mine until they slightly flicker away, focusing on someone in the distance.

"Ooh," he murmurs, leaning up on his tip toes. "It looks like some lucky lady needs James to help in their time of need." He pats my shoulder before heading off to woo his next victim.

I shake my head, smiling to myself.

I'm walking around the event later that night, watching the number of people begin to dwindle around me. I have no idea where James is, but I'm sure he's enjoying himself. And probably his conquest, too.

There's still some people around, walking around, seeing the paintings and sculptures they wanted to see earlier in the night but never walked by again.

There's one painting I've walked by a few times throughout the course of the night, a simple silhouette of a couple overlooking the sunset. It reminded me of happier times, but every time I looked at it, I shook it off like it was nothing.

But maybe, just maybe, this time is different.

Probably not.

I'm caught daydreaming when a voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A man.

My eyes slowly rotate around to my left, where he's standing. He's looking at me for reassurance and I nod halfheartedly. "It is." My voice is a little too dry.

The man, who's in a simple gray suit, adjusts his tie, the blue silk running through his long fingers. And suddenly I'm wondering what those fingers would feel like on my body, crawling and stroking along my back and belly, making me moan and push my crotch up to his face in raw excitement.

I quickly bring my hand up to my face to cough out my blush.

It's not like he's bad looking. He's actually fairly attractive. Short brown hair and creamy chocolate eyes with a small build, most likely godsend after everything this year.

But really, Kendall? Day dreaming about a total stranger? How low can you get?

"Are you okay, sir?" His voice squeaks on the last syllable, making him return the blush. His cheeks are pink circles, can he get any cuter? Unlikely.

"Oh yeah, I'm great. Just looking at this wonderful piece of art, wondering who could make something so beautiful." I glance over at him and our eyes meet, that warm feeling pooling at the bottom of my stomach again.

He nods. "Or, maybe he only made this to play with the viewer's emotions. Artists can be tricky in that way, really. I hate these kinds of things."

"Really? Fascinating. Why are you here, then?" There's lines of blues and purples strewn through the sun, only giving the effect of nighttime. It could be a sunrise. To think about it positively. The day has only just begun, and these two people know it. That's why they have eachother.

"I'm only here with a— oh. You realize you said all of that aloud, correct?" His eyes are folded around the edges and his thin lips are stretched, a smile forming.

My cheeks burn and I nod. "I got that. It's just all so sick, the relationship aspect of life. I wish I could be one of those people who don't care about that shit. But I do. And it's beginning to suck. Wait, why am I telling this to a complete stranger? Like you have any idea what I'm going through, or even what I have gone through."

He clears his throat and looks around before speaking again. "Fair enough. But maybe that whole one night stand thing? Maybe people need more than one. They need a two night stand, doesn't that have a nice ring to it? Giving up everything for two long, perfectly nice nights."

I sigh. "Where do I sign up?"

He stifles a cough. "Right here."

Is he serious? This guy, this stranger, is he for real? I'm not buying this.

"What? I don't even know you!"

He grins. "But isn't that what we all want? To be spontaneous and have sex with someone we don't know? For the thrill of it, we'll do anything for the rush."

I shake my head. "We don't even know eachother's names. But more importantly, how do you know I lean toward guys? There was never anything suggestive in the context of what I said. That's poor judgement."

"You were checking me out, and we can formally introduce ourselves later."

And now I'm embarrassed. And I'm stuttering. "But that does not prove anything."

"I'm actually fairly confident it does. Besides, only a few one night stands form into new relationships. A small percentage, and that's not even counting our new and improved two night stands."

I look back at the painting. "I know… Still, this is insane." The lovers would know what to do.

"So, are you in?"

I sigh, knowing this is only the beginning. "Yeah, I am."

"Good."

I would love it if you guys reviewed :)

Should the next chapter be in Logan's perspective?