Title: blame it on the shoes
Pairing: James/Logan (jagan)
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: Logan really should have foreseen that signing a contract is literally no incentive for James to not do what he wants.
Disclaimer: I don't own BTR, okay.
Notes: Okay, so I rewrote Big Time Sneakers. Sue me.
So, there are these sneakers -- limited edition Buster Clyde sneakers that everyone wants -- and Logan's not the "smart one" for nothing, okay, when he sees a chance he takes it. Obviously James is in, because James really likes pretty shoes and they're expensive as shit and Logan needs someone to split the price. It's maybe a little shameless but it's not like it's hard to get James to sign the contract he wrote up -- the shoes cannot be touched, no finger grease, Logan is thorough and he has known James his whole life -- and he agrees easily enough. Three thousand bucks on the line. This is important.
Logan really should have foreseen that signing a contract is literally no incentive for James to not do what he wants. Naturally, James gets his hands on them immediately.
"James, what part of signed contract do you not understand."
"All of it, honestly," James sighs, and, oh god, he's rubbing the shoes. With his face.
"Put them down," Logan hisses, and, fuck off, it is not his fault that Kendall's mom keeps walking in while they're on top of each other.
"Do I want to know?" Her smile's got an edge to it, but Logan thinks this isn't all that weird for them. Sure, Logan's got James backed into a corner and they're standing a little too close for James to breathe properly but--
Okay, it's weird, even if James does get all starey with him sometimes when he thinks Logan isn't looking.
"No," they say at once. James shoves Logan back with the shoe as Mrs. Knight backs out of the room muttering to herself about boys and insanity. "Dude, you're making me sweat. Do you know what that's going to do to this hair? Bad things."
"Hey, fuck your hair, these are for money. Which is more important than your stupid frizz." Sometimes Logan forgets to use good vocabulary around James. It's a thing.
James looks pretty scandalized. "You did not just go there."
Logan shrugs and snatches the shoe out of James' hand, which, god, there are probably so many smudges on the leather at this point that it's not even worth it.
Then he's tumbling to the floor again, cradling the shoe against his chest while James attacks.
"What is your pro--ow, fuck, that was my ear."
"Yeah, well, I go for the weak spots, Logie-bear."
Logan scowls at James and looks down at the shoe in his arms. "Sacrifices must be made for the greater good," he tells it (and his spent two-hundred-fifty dollars) before tossing it somewhere behind him and reaching up to grab James by the shirt, yanking him down.
James is actually pretty sweaty, now that he takes a moment to notice. It's kind of gross. Still, Logan sees nothing different about James' hair. No frizz, just its usual coiffed flow. Logan frowns, because what the fuck is he doing, then ducks to avoid James' fist.
"You threw the shoe!"
"You touched the shoe!"
"You--you bought the shoe!"
Logan smothers a laugh with a cough, then gets serious again, because. This is serious. "Uh, so did you, fuckhead."
"Right, because you're such an expert at English that you get to tell me how to speak it."
James frowns. "We don't live in England."
Logan takes a second to gape, because comments like that deserve a dropped jaw. Maybe some rage, too. "Oh my god. How are you even functional?"
"I'll show you how functional I am, bitch," and, wow, he's not sure how it happens but within ten seconds James is straddling him, hands tight on Logan's wrists, where did he even learn that.
"Katie," James replies casually, since Logan apparently can't keep his mouth shut.
He nods, though. Typical Katie.
Except. James is sitting on him, and they've been fighting over virtually nothing (Money! the rational side of him protests) all day, and Logan's usually better about keeping these thoughts on lockdown when he's around James but it's difficult when James' ass is pressed to his crotch. He's only human, okay. And a teenage boy. Priorities and all that.
The silence is dragging, and when Logan finally meets James' eyes, they're narrowed a little like they get whenever he's thinking really hard about something.
"You wanna…let go?" Logan asks. His voice catches at the end and he hates himself a lot right now. It's not like they haven't gotten into situations like this, where they're too close and breathless and more than a little confused, but it's easy to explain away the flushed cheeks and hot skin when it's the four of them. Kendall and Carlos have always been buffers for this kind of shit and, now that they're not here, Logan doesn't really know what to do.
James squints at him, then sighs. "I probably should, right?"
He looks…kind of guilty, actually, which, what?
"Ye-ah," Logan says. "That guy's coming to pick up the shoes, soon."
He can't say he's not disappointed when James hops to his feet like nothing's happened and, of course, James has the shoes on his fucking feet once Logan makes himself stand.
"Did you not hear me?" Logan chokes out. Seriously. "The guy. Is coming. For the shoes. That are brand-new and untouched. Which also means unworn."
"But they feel so good," James says. Logan swallows once, absolutely does not notice the way his skin is kind of glistening, and is pretty much helpless to stop James from walking out the door of the apartment. At least he put the plastic bags over the shoes.
He waits to breathe until the door shuts, then slumps onto the couch and puts his head in his hands. James isn't even in the room anymore and Logan's heart is still racing the way it did when he scored that overtime goal to win a playoff game in Minnesota.
It had been off an assist from James, actually. He remembers afterwards more clearly, maybe, focusing in on James as he brought their helmets together, not really a hug but this thing that was just theirs. Logan's mouth quirks despite himself and he can't even will himself to be pissed about the shoes that James is probably ruining. It's funny, because he knows they're doing awesome as a band, but he also hasn't forgotten how easily they meshed on the ice. Hockey was work the same as singing is, but hockey was that given thing they'd always done together. Singing is new. It figures that there are some other new things, too.
Logan's never really known how to lie to himself, though, and whatever it is that sometimes happens between he and James is achingly familiar. It's just, usually things don't escalate like this, and where the hell are Kendall and Carlos, anyway. Which also begs the question of why this is happening in the first place. Logan's the most in-control guy he knows and he'd love to keep it that way but, honestly, it's been years of this shit and it's getting really old to act like he doesn't want to jump James' bones every time they push each other around in a street hockey match.
James chooses this moment to open the door. He looks guilty as fuck, and Logan can't help it when his eyes go straight to the shoes, which are still in the plastic so basically something has gone very wrong.
"What did you do--"
"Nothing!" James squeaks.
James is about to bolt, Logan knows, because he's gotten damn good at reading James' tells over the years (he could think about how he can't say the same for Kendall and Carlos, but, no) and James isn't going anywhere.
"it's…just a scratch?" James offers. Logan blinks, slams the door shut behind James so at least there'd be a slight hold up if he does manage to get away, and yanks him toward the couch.
James makes a weird contortion of faces -- what does Logan even see in him, seriously -- and finally forces out a constipated "Nuh."
Logan shrugs, which totally catches James off guard, and steals the shoes so he can inspect the damage.
He is not at all responsible for the high pitched sound that comes out of his mouth, okay, he's not.
"We can fix it. We can."
And they do. Mrs. Knight's more weirded out than usual but generally things are great until James convinces Logan to try on the sneakers, and, sweet Jesus.
"I told you," James says, looking smug. His eyes are nowhere near Logan's feet.
"I hate you," Logan says.
James pushes him out the door. "Be free."
He didn't think he'd do worse than James, but he really does.
They barely have time to yell at each other before the guy arrives, but they manage to exchange a few clever insults anyway.
("Logan, you are a butthead." "Well -- your mom's a butthead." "Hey, that was just rude." "You know what's rude? You being my age when you act like you're five." "Please. I'm at least seven." "Butthead? Really? Who even says that anymore?" "Your mom, that's who.")
The buyer is severely unimpressed with the sneakers. Shocker. Logan's still fairly inclined to blame this on James.
Kendall's mom walks in this time when James has got both arms around Logan's neck, whose leg is precariously wedged between James'. It's fine. She kicks them out of the apartment for the rest of the day, which Logan supposes they deserve.
It's a little after five, and they're sitting in the Fruit Smackers supply closet. Carlos was right -- they're fucking delicious. They also aren't allowed at the pool, which is closed for some show shooting a pilot, so, lacking options and all that.
Neither of them has said anything for a while, and Logan's getting nervous. He's not that mad about the shoes, mostly, and if all the yelling and kicking and tackling they did actually gets in the way of their friendship then Logan's never buying shoes again. With James, anyway.
Then James says, "So, uh, today was. I had fun," in a small voice, cautious like he's afraid of what Logan's going to say in response.
He knocks his arm against James', unable to help the smile that's spreading across his lips. The shoes are filthy to the point of no return, his right knee is sore, and he's still kind of annoyingly turned on. "Yeah, me too."
When he looks over, James is pointedly staring at the ceiling. Freak.
"Remember that time I straddled you," James says.
"Uh." It's not his most eloquent day.
James doesn't seem to care. "That was fun too," he says. He's still addressing the ceiling, which is seriously ugly, at least the wall isn't puke-colored.
Logan's gut twists and he has no idea what to say, how to respond to something he's been wanting to hear for so long but never expected to. He wipes his palms on his pants and swallows, doesn't let himself think for once in his life because he can't let himself hold back this time. Logan gets on his knees slowly and lowers himself onto James, watching for any hint that he's reading this wrong.
"Yeah," he says. His voice breaks on the word. "I think it could've been better?" He can't hide the question, needs to ask it because this is James and he's Logan's best friend and he just has to make sure this is okay.
James is looking at him incredulously, wide eyes and lips slightly parted and Logan's only seen this expression on his face once before.
"James," he says, pleading with his eyes.
"Yes, fuck, shut up, it's okay," James says at once. Logan has got to stop speaking his thoughts out loud, really, but then James leans up and presses their mouths together and oh.
Logan makes an embarrassing noise that only encourages James, who licks into his mouth like he owns it, and, fuck, because James kisses Logan deep and reckless and hot and like Logan's never been kissed before.
Their tongues slide together as James presses Logan to the floor, and he manages to get a hand tangled in James' hair. He tugs, shifts his hips up because James is right fucking there, and James groans into his mouth, grinding down so Logan can feel just how hard he is.
Logan can't think, can barely breathe at this point with James running his expert hands up under Logan's shirt, thumbing with the waistband to his pants until Logan shoves him off. There's only so much teasing a guy can take, okay, and the surprised flash of hurt Logan catches in James' eyes vanishes once he pushes him back and undoes his pants without fumbling more than twice.
"Logan, Jesus," James starts to say, but Logan cuts him off with a hand wrapped around his cock, realizing just how much he'd like to get that in his mouth, wow.
James is panting, glazed eyes on Logan's like he's never really seen him before, and Logan smirks. He's never done this before but he makes it a point to be good at everything and this shouldn't be any different. After all, he's got James speechless and desperate, and he makes sure James' eyes are still open before he leans down and drags his tongue up the hot length of his cock.
He's not entirely unprepared for the way James bucks his hips up, whine caught in his throat, but it's still a little crazy that James wants him like this, that they're doing this at all.
"Nope," James gasps just as Logan's tonguing the head, and, what.
"If you do that now, I'm gonna lose it," he says, eyes kind of wild, "and I want-- Christ, Logan, stop!"
Logan grins and lifts his head, a little dizzy from this. He's usually the flustered one, okay, but for once he's not worried and he thinks he's about to have sex with his best friend and then he gets what James is trying to say.
"Yeah. Yeah. I don't have any… stuff," Logan says, but James is already pulling a small bottle of lube from his jean pocket.
Logan raises an eyebrow. James shrugs. "What? I'm always prepared." He gets quiet then, searching Logan's face, and Logan's about to ask when James babbles, "so, uh, I don't know about you but I haven't actually had sex with anyone and I know condoms are for safety and stuff like even though I skipped health class I know that but there's no one else I really want to have sex with so?"
Logan's pretty sure he's gaping, but he knows that's not something he's going to hear much, if ever again, so he stares and tries to breathe.
James' face is red and sweaty, reminiscent of when Logan had tackled him over the sneakers earlier. He bites his lip, looking down, says, "I mean. If that's okay? If not then I have a condom--"
Logan shuts him up by kissing him, and then he can't get naked fast enough. There's some tearing when he goes to pull of his shirt and he's probably destroyed enough clothing today but he just tosses it to the side and tugs James' jeans and boxers all the way off. He pauses to take in the sight of James stretched out before him, but then James makes an impatient noise and Logan lets himself be pulled down. James flips them expertly, then, and Logan hears the snap of the bottle but he doesn't quite register anything until James is working a finger into him, slick and cool and oh.
He clenches a hand over James' bicep as James stretches him. He's going slow, and Logan knows he's just being careful, they're both new at this, but Christ, Logan's waited long enough and he just wants James inside him already.
James glances up at him, smirks like he knows exactly what Logan's thinking, and withdraws the three fingers that he'd been curling just right, leaving Logan breathless and achingly hard for all of ten seconds before James is lining up and pressing in.
"Fuck," they both say. Logan's got a hand at the base of James' neck, gripping probably too tight, but James thrusts once, hard, and then he's buried balls-deep in Logan and all the breath leaves him.
James' eyelashes flutter and he pauses, obviously trying hard to control himself, and he starts to ask Logan if he's okay but he cuts him off with a rough "Move," and James does. He pulls back, slide of his cock drawing a groan out of both of them, and then pushes back in, broken desperate motion, until there's a stuttered rhythm that's got Logan holding on for dear life.
He's shaking, he knows, with his legs wrapped around James' waist and cock trapped between them, and then James shifts and shoves in again and fuck, "Do that again," he chokes out, even if he's not going to last long now. James fucks into him hard, faster than they'd maybe like but this has been a long time coming and neither of them have the patience to take their time. He feels James' eyes on him, meets them just before he pulls him down to kiss him hot and dirty.
"Fuck, fuck, Logan," James says into his mouth, voice breaking on his name, and then Logan's coming between them, body trembling through it as James continues to fuck into him.
His thrusts turn slower, deep and building, and Logan threads their fingers together, holds him tight and kisses him. James shudders once, fingers clenching tight around Logan's, and his head drops to Logan's shoulder as he comes inside him.
They lie there for a minute, catching their breath, and when James finally pulls out Logan knows he's going to need James like this all the time now. No going back. Fucking sneakers, he thinks, then starts giggling, kind of high in his post-sex haze.
"What," James says, and Logan shushes him with a finger over his lips.
"Sneakers," Logan replies, and then they're both pretty much convulsing on the floor of the supply closet for a while.
"So," Logan says, after they've calmed down, "that wasn't a one time thing, right."
James leans over him then, looking him right in the eye as he says, "Are you kidding? And they call me the dumb one. We're doing this at least five times a day."
Logan's mouth drops open. "Five times?"
"What, can't keep up? Need to work on stamina?"
But Logan lets it slide, grin spreading across his lips because James wants him for good. "C'mere."
James' smirk turns soft, and he kisses Logan's jaw. "I'm serious. If I need to buy a thousand pairs of sneakers to have you, I'll do it."
"That would be a huge waste of money."
James rolls his eyes. "Then just give me what I want and we can forget about the sneakers."
Logan thinks about the dirt-caked, five-hundred-dollar shoes sitting in their room. "Yeah. Let's forget about the sneakers."