Page 11

Chapter 11

Cleaning Up Nice

The stress itself probably shaved a year off Logan's life, but the door stayed shut.

"Hey, Logan?" someone shouted from the other side. "You in there?"

"Y-yeah?" Logan called back, hyper-aware of Oz's cock pinned between his thighs, his own cock still gripped in Oz's stilled hand.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Were we too loud?

"You seen Oz anywhere?" the voice — it sounded like Ashton, maybe? — asked; the question sending a wave of relief flooding through Logan's system.

"Um… I think he's around here somewhere?" Logan called back, the urge to laugh at the ridiculous situation bubbling up in his throat.

Behind him, Oz pressed his face into Logan's shoulder, his whole body shaking as the sound of a muffled snicker escaped.

"I knocked on your door, but no one answered," probably-Ashton said. "D'ya think he's got his headphones on?"

Logan swallowed down a moan as Oz slowly pumped his fist; the evil, evil man.

"How the f-fuck should I know?" Logan managed to call back, wincing at the squeak laced through his words. "Have you checked the laundry r-room? I'm trying to — Oz, cool it — to shower here, dude."

Oz did not, in fact, 'cool it'. Instead, he'd resumed the steady pace that'd been sending Logan's body into overdrive just a few short, blissful moments ago.

"Any way I want, huh?" Oz murmured against Logan's wet skin. "He intruded on us . Tell him to fuck off."

"Sorry, dude," Ashton yelled through the door, completely oblivious to Logan's plight. "It's just… My computer ate my paper, see?"

"More like he tried to torrent some porn again, and it unleashed another virus on his hard drive," Oz snorted.

"And I really need to find Oz, because he knows how to fix it, and — "

"I'll let him know you're looking for him the next time I see him!" Logan yelped, his eyes shut tight as he fought to hold together the last shreds of his self-control. "When I'm not naked!"

"OH!" Ashton said in the tone of a person only now realizing why someone might be in the shower with the door locked. "Um… Sorry, uh — Yeah, alright. I'll check if he's doing laundry. Thanks!"

As Ashton's footsteps retreated down the hall, Logan let his forehead drop to rest against the tile wall, his every muscle still on high alert.

Behind him, Oz was a warm and steadying presence; his strokes slow and thoughtful.

"You okay?"

Logan hiccuped as he swallowed a laugh.

No, he wasn't okay. Oz made his body feel good. Real good. Made Logan want things he wasn't sure he should, made him need things he knew he wasn't supposed to. This was a game, a bet, a dare — and one that'd nearly been discovered. And though most of Logan was relieved their secret was safe, there was a small part of him busy asking…

What if…?

"Logan?" Oz called softly.

"I don't want to think about it," Logan muttered, adjusting his stance to how Oz had him standing before the interruption.

"Logan…"

" Oz ," Logan interrupted him, putting his palms flat against the tile. "I don't want to think. Period. Please?"

There was a beat, then a bloom of hot air against Logan's bare spine as Oz sighed, making Logan shiver.

"What do you want, then?" Oz asked, his free hand smoothing down Logan's side to grip his hip.

"What you were doing before was… It was good. I liked it," Logan admitted. "Just — "

"What?" Oz urged, his fist already returning to its appointed task with increasing speed and firmness.

"I don't — " Logan squeezed his eyes shut.

"Tell me." Oz pressed a kiss to Logan's shoulder. "Whatever you need, Logan."

"Harder," Logan told him. He felt like he was just on the edge of something wild and free, if only he could just —

"And — and rougher?" he whispered. "I want you to fuck me, Oz."

"Logan, are you sure — "

He reached back, gripping Oz's hip; pulling him forward as Logan thrust back. Eyes fluttering closed at the slick slide of Oz's cock between his legs, before Logan rutted forward into his roommate's hand.

"Want you to," Logan panted as he rocked back and forth, trying to find something like a rhythm again as he drove himself onto Oz's cock, fucking into Oz's hand. "Want you , Oz. Please."

Oz growled, the hand on Logan's hip shifting to clutch at his chin, holding him still while Oz licked and bit at Logan's neck. His hips slammed into Logan's and Logan moaned, quivering as Oz fucked him flat against the tile wall.

"Like this?"

"Oh god," Logan gasped, " Yes . Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Oz!"

The walls of the bathroom drummed with Logan's hoarse panting. Of Oz grunting as he thrust into him. Of the sucking sound of Oz's cock rutting between Logan's thighs. Of his hips slamming into Logan's ass with a wet, meaty smack .

"Listen to that," Oz laughed, his hand firmly gripping Logan's throat. "Damn, we sound filthy."

"Yeah," Logan agreed in a high, thready keen; ears filling with the simple, primal harmony

"You like being fucked, straight boy?" Oz taunted, though there was hardly any heat to it now.

And… it was hard to remember he was, when they were like this. Here, it was easy to pretend; easy to imagine what it might feel like to take Oz's cock for real. To have it sliding inside him, opening him and owning him; those hips pounding against Logan's own as Oz took him, claimed him, marked him deep.

"Answer me, Logan," Oz growled into Logan's ear, thighs slamming Logan's ass, driving Logan's cock into Oz's fist and his chest against the wall. "You like getting fucked? Does this pretty little ass of yours dream of taking my cock?"

"Oz!" Logan gasped out the only possible reply to that, which held everything and nothing inside the tiny word. Swallowing anything else back as Logan felt his balls draw up tight, his orgasm barreling toward him. "Fuck, Oz, I —"

Lock it down , came a voice from far away. Be a man. Don't show weakness. Don't act like a target. Don't give him an excuse to notice you

"What do you want, Logan? Tell me what you want."

"I don't — "

But Oz's hand slipped around Logan's throat and squeezed, trapping the lies so only the truth could slip free.

"Ffffuck — " Logan's voice was ragged, his balls tight, his cock rock hard, his whole body trembling. "F-fuck me, Oz. Please."

"Logan?"

"D-do it," Logan panted, abruptly filled with a deep-seated urge to press his legs tighter together, pushing his ass back, hands and chest braced against the wall. "Fuck me, Oz. I want you to give it to me."

"Oh, hell yeah," Oz promised, adjusting his angle and grip into something that sent Logan's thoughts flying, soaring into the air. "Fuck, you're a treat. You're gonna come from this, aren't ya?"

Logan just moaned, because yes —Yes, he was.

He could feel it building now, a white hot core igniting in his gut, right at the base of his spine. Oz's grip on his throat tightened, sending Logan higher, Oz's mouth and teeth flashing at Logan's neck only fanning the flames. A sharp bite sank into the meat of his shoulder, Oz's cock heavy and solid as he fucked Logan's thighs —

"That's it, Logan. Doing so good," Oz breathed in his ear, "Now, let go."

Yeah.

Yeah

With firm, steady strokes, Oz worked him; each glide of his palm sending Logan higher and higher. Until suddenly, Logan jerked in Oz's grip, lights flashing in his eyes as the fire in his belly surged free. Grunting hoarsely as his orgasm ripped through him, Logan's entire body bent into a bow; lifting him off his toes as Logan's cock erupted in thick streaks of cum to paint the tiles of the shower in stripes of milky white.

"Oh fuck, Logan," Oz gasped, his hips slamming forward, his hand leaving Logan's throat to slide down to his belly in a more steadying hold. "You're so fucking hot. I'm close."

"Oz," Logan choked out. "Oz."

Oz groaned, his fingers digging into Logan's hip, his cock thrusting desperately. And then —

"Turn around!" Oz hissed.

"Huh?" Logan responded muzzily as Oz stepped back hastily.

"Turn around," Oz commanded hoarsely, hands urging Logan to comply. "Turn around, turn — "

Logan obeyed, barely shuffling around in the tight space before Oz was coming, cock in his hands to aim right at Logan's; coating his thighs, his dick, his balls, his feet in thick spurts of Oz's cum.

"Holy shit," Oz whispered, panting harshly as he dropped his forehead against Logan's left pec, pressed right over Logan's still-thumping heart. "That was so hot, honeybuns."

And Logan… he couldn't even bring himself to protest the nickname. Not this time.

Oz's cum tickled as it dripped off Logan's balls to slide wetly down his inner thighs, but Logan didn't care. He — he didn't feel quite there. As if he'd somehow dodged a tackle so fast, he'd left his body just a half-step behind somewhere.

The room echoed with the two of them panting, gasping for breath. From miles away, Logan brought his arms up, wrapping them around Oz and leaning back against the tile for support.

Fuck, he couldn't even feel his legs.

"How you feeling, big guy?" Oz asked, patting Logan's bicep.

"M'fine," Logan slurred, his tongue strangely thick. "We done?"

"Logan?" Oz said, his tone abruptly anxious as he peered up at Logan's face. "Are you okay?"

Logan could sense the worry in his gaze, even though he couldn't seem to meet it. Every time he tried, his eyes just — just slipped away, unable to focus.

Logan hummed. "Feel weird."

"Bad-weird?" Oz asked, fingers stroking gently along Logan's jaw. "Should I get help?"

Logan shook his head, the whole world wobbling with it.

"No. S'nice," he answered, pulling Oz tighter against him. "Like you."

"Hey, Logan," Oz murmured, squirming to lean back despite Logan's hold. "Logan, look at me?"

Logan tried, even though he wasn't sure the effort was worth it. But there was Oz's face, and he was smiling. So, that was okay.

"Holy shit, dude," Oz said excitedly. "You — I think we should get you into bed."

Logan frowned. "Gotta finish m'shower."

Oz chewed his bottom lip for a second.

"Alright," Oz finally said. "Then you just stand there and let me take care of you, alright?"

"'K," Logan happily agreed.

And it was awkward and cramped, and Logan's chest was cold against the hard tiles. But he didn't mind, because Oz's hands were warm as he urged Logan to turn this way or that; sliding soap-slick across his skin or threading into his hair, fingers scratching little circles in his scalp as Oz worked the shampoo in, then made sure to get it all out.

"You did so good," Oz would say as he worked, and —

"That was really — wow, that was amazing. You were amazing." Or —

"That's it. Just like that, Logan. You're doing great. You're something really special, y'know that?"

And like this? Logan could actually believe him.