Fic: The Realm of You, 9/?
Title: The Realm of You
Part: 9/?
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, Kendall/Jo
Details: AU, Slash
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content
Post Word Count: 626
Status: WIP
Summary: From friendship, to love, to something else entirely. When secrets are all they have, what is left when their lives become an open book? "I have no life but this."
Masterlist
“Where’s your dad?” Logan asks with all the couth a ten-year-old can muster. It’s a Friday, and in two days it will be father’s day. The day camp the boys are attending has them all making cards.
James elbows Logan in the ribs. “Don’t talk to him about it.”
Kendall’s expression hardens. He won’t cry. He absolutely, positively, without a doubt will not cry.
He covers his face because he realizes he’s crying.
Throwing down the white glue, the tiny sequins and beads and pipe cleaners on the craft table are propelled upward like fireworks and Kendall walks off, mumbling about needing to pee. He gets to the bathroom and locks himself in a stall, puts his face in his hands and sobs.
Why would Logan bring that up now? They’ve been friends for two years, best friends, so if Kendall had wanted to bring it up he would have.
Well, Kendall thinks, I have wanted to bring it up, talk about it, but I don’t want Logan to see me cry.
The truth is, Kendall carries around this angry ache centering around the absence of his father. He had been left behind, abandoned, overlooked by someone Kendall had centered his world around. The years gone by have done nothing to soften the blow. Sometimes, Kendall wishes his father were dead instead of simply gone. At least then, he would know it hadn’t been a choice.
There’s a soft knock on the door of the stall, the disturbance rumbling through the rusted metal. Kendall glances down and sees Logan’s shoes, sloppy strings lolling about the high tops. Logan rolls his ankles, his feet nervously shifting. Kendall can’t help but smile at the fidgeting. This was his friend: so smart yet so awkward, unaware of how great he is, too distracted by a book or a new word to remember to tie his shoes or comb his hair. The fondness pushes him to open the door.
Logan bursts through and pulls Kendall into a fierce hug. “I’m sorry!” he says. “Please don’t hate me. Carlos and James told me. I shouldn’t have just asked like that. You know I don’t think before I talk sometimes or I think too much before I talk and it comes out wrong and I’m just so sorry.” He squeezes Kendall tighter as though Logan fears the boy might flit away, disappear from his arms. “You’re dad is so stupid, Kendall. Stupid. You have the best family in the whole wide world, and there’s nobody as brave and smart and awesome as you and he just sucks and -- “
“Logan,” Kendall says, effectively cutting him off. Wrapping his arms around the shorter boy, Kendall squeezes Logan back. “It’s okay.”
Pulling back to look at him, Logan says, “But you’re crying.” Kendall touches his face, sees his fingertips covered with fresh tears.
“Man, I am, aren’t I? Please don’t think I’m a crybaby,” Kendall requests.
“Everybody has to have someone they can cry in front of,” Logan answers. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll be yours, okay? Besides, you’ve already seen me cry.” Then he smiles, all dimples and rounded cheeks, a blossoming flower, a window in a storm cloud.
There’s this place inside Kendall, this place that has been empty and resonating with echoes of hurt for so long. Logan smooths out the ragged edges, starts to fill it with something else.
“Okay,” Kendall replies, the corners of his mouth curling.
Once Kendall is again calm and strong and everything he’s assumed to be, they go back out. Kendall looks down at the card he’s supposed to be making and tries not to get upset again. Logan notices.
Leaning into Kendall, Logan whispers, “I can share my dad, if you want.”
Part 8 Part 10
Part: 9/?
Genre: Big Time Rush - Drama / Angst
Pairings: Logan/Kendall, Kendall/Jo
Details: AU, Slash
Rating: MA/NC17
Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content
Post Word Count: 626
Status: WIP
Summary: From friendship, to love, to something else entirely. When secrets are all they have, what is left when their lives become an open book? "I have no life but this."
Masterlist
“Where’s your dad?” Logan asks with all the couth a ten-year-old can muster. It’s a Friday, and in two days it will be father’s day. The day camp the boys are attending has them all making cards.
James elbows Logan in the ribs. “Don’t talk to him about it.”
Kendall’s expression hardens. He won’t cry. He absolutely, positively, without a doubt will not cry.
He covers his face because he realizes he’s crying.
Throwing down the white glue, the tiny sequins and beads and pipe cleaners on the craft table are propelled upward like fireworks and Kendall walks off, mumbling about needing to pee. He gets to the bathroom and locks himself in a stall, puts his face in his hands and sobs.
Why would Logan bring that up now? They’ve been friends for two years, best friends, so if Kendall had wanted to bring it up he would have.
Well, Kendall thinks, I have wanted to bring it up, talk about it, but I don’t want Logan to see me cry.
The truth is, Kendall carries around this angry ache centering around the absence of his father. He had been left behind, abandoned, overlooked by someone Kendall had centered his world around. The years gone by have done nothing to soften the blow. Sometimes, Kendall wishes his father were dead instead of simply gone. At least then, he would know it hadn’t been a choice.
There’s a soft knock on the door of the stall, the disturbance rumbling through the rusted metal. Kendall glances down and sees Logan’s shoes, sloppy strings lolling about the high tops. Logan rolls his ankles, his feet nervously shifting. Kendall can’t help but smile at the fidgeting. This was his friend: so smart yet so awkward, unaware of how great he is, too distracted by a book or a new word to remember to tie his shoes or comb his hair. The fondness pushes him to open the door.
Logan bursts through and pulls Kendall into a fierce hug. “I’m sorry!” he says. “Please don’t hate me. Carlos and James told me. I shouldn’t have just asked like that. You know I don’t think before I talk sometimes or I think too much before I talk and it comes out wrong and I’m just so sorry.” He squeezes Kendall tighter as though Logan fears the boy might flit away, disappear from his arms. “You’re dad is so stupid, Kendall. Stupid. You have the best family in the whole wide world, and there’s nobody as brave and smart and awesome as you and he just sucks and -- “
“Logan,” Kendall says, effectively cutting him off. Wrapping his arms around the shorter boy, Kendall squeezes Logan back. “It’s okay.”
Pulling back to look at him, Logan says, “But you’re crying.” Kendall touches his face, sees his fingertips covered with fresh tears.
“Man, I am, aren’t I? Please don’t think I’m a crybaby,” Kendall requests.
“Everybody has to have someone they can cry in front of,” Logan answers. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll be yours, okay? Besides, you’ve already seen me cry.” Then he smiles, all dimples and rounded cheeks, a blossoming flower, a window in a storm cloud.
There’s this place inside Kendall, this place that has been empty and resonating with echoes of hurt for so long. Logan smooths out the ragged edges, starts to fill it with something else.
“Okay,” Kendall replies, the corners of his mouth curling.
Once Kendall is again calm and strong and everything he’s assumed to be, they go back out. Kendall looks down at the card he’s supposed to be making and tries not to get upset again. Logan notices.
Leaning into Kendall, Logan whispers, “I can share my dad, if you want.”
Part 8 Part 10