Page 25

Chapter 25

Following Orders

Oz gnawed his lip as he shut the door behind him, head cocked as if listening to Walter's footsteps receding down the hall. "Do you think he and Danny…"

"I dunno. But I kinda got that vibe, too," Logan replied. "You notice he kept playing with his wedding ring the whole time he talked about the guy?"

Oz nodded. "And not one mention of either having a wife. It's why I'm hoping I can introduce him to my dad tomorrow. He, uh… He's always been supportive of me, but he was really worried when I told him I wanted to join the house. Concerned that… y'know, that I wouldn't fit in."

"The guys are coming around," Logan tried to assure him. "And hey, you won me over. That's something, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think offering to blow everyone in the house who gets good grades is going to be the answer here," Oz replied distractedly.

And damn, but isn't that a picture?

"We'd be the house with the highest average GPA, I can promise you that," Logan told him, mind filled with the image.

Oz shrugged a shoulder, glancing curiously over at the box in Logan's hands. "He give you more shoes?

"More shoes ?" Logan mock-scoffed. "Did you not hear me before? Dude, these are Series Elevens ."

"Yeah." Oz brightened, grinning unrepentantly. "Like I said: Shoes."

Punk

Logan made a rude noise, then cocked his head as an idea struck him. "Wanna try them on?"

"Really?" Oz asked, his eyes going wide.

Logan looked down at the box, and shrugged. "Sure, why not? Here, grab a pair of socks, then come sit on the bed."

" Oh." Oz grinned as Logan went to lock the door. "S'like that, huh?"

Logan snorted. Walter was nice, but whether he and Drafted Danny turned out to be an item or not, Logan'd had his fill of interruptions.

"Mmm, don't think I'll ever get tired of this sight," Oz leered, sitting down on the edge of the mattress as Logan sank to his knees at Oz's feet.

Lips ticking up into an answering grin, Logan reached to pick up Oz's right foot, murmuring, "Just relax."

Ignoring for the moment the pair of socks Oz had sat next to him on the bed, Logan focused on Oz's calves. He tried to remember what the sports therapist did, the one who sometimes came in to ensure the team didn't overextend themselves. Massaging into the muscle of Oz's right leg, Logan repeated anything that had Oz moaning, leaving out the stuff that always left Logan wincing in pain.

After his shower, Oz had pulled on some loose basketball shorts, giving Logan plenty of real estate to work with. And while Logan was pretty certain he didn't have a foot fetish, he could still appreciate that Oz had nice feet. They were strong and firm, and when Logan ground his thumb in just like this, hard enough to make Oz groan?

No, Logan didn't have a foot fetish. But he was quickly realizing that he might have developed an Oz fetish.

What a terrible, awful burden

Grinning, Logan rolled a slow-blinking Oz's socks on, before taking the Series Elevens out of the box. Pulling free their paper wrapping, he slid the crisp new sneakers onto Oz's feet one by one, lacing them up carefully.

Sitting back on his heels, Logan looked up at Oz expectantly. "How's that?"

But Oz…didn't move, aside from a tiny twitch of the sneakers as he wiggled his toes inside. "They're… okay?" he answered dutifully.

Logan rolled his eyes again.

This guy

"Stand up and walk around, doofus," Logan instructed.

Obediently, Oz got up and took a slow lap inside their little room. "Um. Alright, very comfortable. I mean, I can see why you'd want a pair, just not — " Oz waved at the pile of boxes stacked three-high at the bottom of Logan's closet.

Logan shrugged, not bothering to explain something Oz clearly wouldn't understand any more than Logan would 'get' Oz's own collectables. "Those would look money with a suit."

"Huh?" Oz asked distractedly from where he was checking out his own feet in the tall mirror hanging from the back of their door.

Fucking adorable. Logan grinned, allowing himself to enjoy the thought instead of shoving it down as he once had.

"You should wear them to the auction," Logan decided. He might not feel anything like ready to admit he was even in the vicinity of a closet, much less come out of it, but…

If Oz is gonna get bid on, I want him wearing MY sneakers

"Hey Logan," Oz called, turning away from the mirror.

"Yeah?"

Oz looked down at the sneakers for a moment, then over at the rows of figures covering his shelf.

"…You said your shoes were like my collectibles, right?"

"I guess?" Logan answered, uncertain where this was going.

"Well, with some collectibles, they're worth the most when they're new in the box," Oz pieced together slowly. "You take them out, you touch them, you play with them… Their value goes down."

Crud

"…So?" Logan replied, trying to ignore the alarm bells ringing in his head.

"Logan." Oz's eyes narrowed. "How much are these shoes worth mint?"

Not meeting Oz's gaze, Logan answered quietly, "They, uh, usually retail around a hundred and forty nine."

"…And?" Oz asked flatly.

Logan winced. " And I could probably get six, maybe six fifty, listing them online."

Oz stepped back. "Six hundred and fifty? Oh, my God."

He sat down quickly on his bed, already yanking at the laces to take them off. Logan immediately covered both of Oz's hands with his own, halting the well-meaning destruction.

"It's fine," Logan said, licking his lips. He moved Oz safely away from the laces, resting their joined hands against Oz's ankles. "You aren't going to mess them up here," Logan…may have lied.

Oz's eyes were wide, jumping rapidly to the sneakers on his feet before searching Logan's face, then back again in a nervous cycle.

"You have me wearing six-hundred-dollar shoes!" Oz complained, to which Logan diplomatically did not correct him about the extra fifty dollars. "That guy just rolled in here and handed you six hundred dollar shoes! Wait — " Oz's eyes landed on the stacked boxes in Logan's closet " — are they all worth that much? Logan, fuck. Just how long have you been a sugar baby?!"

His voice was getting higher, his words coming faster and faster. But damn it — Logan couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, first: they aren't six hundred — " and fifty, Logan definitely did not add, assuming it would not improve his case " — unless I decide to sell them and can also find a buyer willing to pay that. Most of my other sneakers aren't worth nearly this much — " Logan ignored Oz's squeaked 'Most?' " — and… ugh. Second: please don't ever call me a sugar baby again," he finished, wrinkling his nose as a conga line of rattles and diapers danced through his mind.

Oz just stared grimly down at the sneakers. "Fine. You split all the hairs you like. But tell me this: if I'd said yes, if I hadn't asked: how much would these shoes fetch on Monday, if I'd agreed to wear them to tomorrow's auction?"

Logan ducked his head, thumb sweeping little circles over Oz's skin. "…it's fine, don't worry about it."

"Logan." Oz gave an exasperate huff. "Whenever and however I want, right? Then I want you to tell me: how much?"

With a wince, Logan answered. "Maybe a hundred?"

"Logan!"

"Look, I said it's fine, didn't I?" Logan argued, eyes dropping to the sneakers as he remembered Oz admiring them in the mirror's reflection. "Besides, they look good on you."

Real good

"And if people see?" Oz hissed. "Ashton and some of the guys drool over these as much as you do. They're going to notice if we both go stag to a party, and I'm wearing a six- hundred -dollar pair of your shoes."

Fucking yes sir they will , Logan couldn't help but grin, warmth and pride filling his chest at the thought.

"So?" he murmured, taking Oz's hands properly, glancing up at his face.

"So?" Oz huffed. " So — people might think something's up between us. They'll know , Logan."

And the idea… It didn't scare him, this time. In fact —

This deal of ours would be so much easier if we didn't have to keep sneaking around. Hell, I don't want to keep sneaking around. Don't want it all to be just because of our deal, either. Would be worth seeing if this could be real — out loud, in the sun —

"Would that be so bad?" Logan whispered.

Oz grimaced, scowling down at their joined hands. "You…don't know what you're saying," he said, his tone flat and dark.

"Y'know, I've been thinking…" Logan began.

"Did it hurt much?" Oz's eyes flicked upward to find Logan's as the corner of his mouth tipped into half a smile, taking the sting out of the words.

"Shut up." Logan grinned. "But really, Oz — what if we, uh… What if we stopped sneaking around?"

Oz threw Logan a long, haggard look. "You calling off the deal?"

" No ," Logan assured him. "I… Maybe?" he corrected himself. "I…"

"Logan?"

Logan couldn't handle the rawness Oz's voice gave his name. He took a deep breath. "Could this work without our bargain? Would you want to go out for — for real, sometime?"

There. He'd said it.

"Like… a date?" Oz asked quietly.

"Yeah," Logan answered, looking up to meet Oz's eyes as hope and fear swirled in his gut.

"…With me?" Oz's tone was doubtful.

"Uh, yeah?" Logan replied, now less sure he hadn't somehow fucked this up.

"A guy ?"

"Um… yeah?" Logan replied again, feeling confused. 'I'm assuming."

"Are you stupid? " Oz hissed.

"Hey!"

"You can't just 'go out' with a guy, Logan!" Oz snapped. "They'll all think you're gay or something!"

Logan frowned. "So?"

" So? " Oz glared. "What -- you gonna try and tell me you've caught a case of 'gay for you'-itis or some shit?"

"If it is, then apparently I'm 'gay for Eli' too. Hell, throw in a good tenth of the guys in that club. Maybe more." Logan shook his head. "This is more like ' Hey, so it turns out I'm bi, and I don't know what to do with that information '. Like some ' I don't even trust myself with this, but I trust you' type of shit. It's — It's how during a game, I don't have the experience; I can't see the whole field, right? I just have to depend on the Coach to call the play. Can't that be enough?"

"You can't want this," Oz argued. "If you go down this road, if you — It's not easy, Logan."

Logan barked a laugh. "You think any of this has been easy? "

"Says the man who's been hiding in his room the past few months, getting blown by his roommate on the sly. But maybe that's it, that's what's got you thinking coming out will be a cakewalk. I mean, one mouth's as good as another, huh?" Oz huffed. "But you can't just add a rainbow stamp to your straight card and expect nothing to change."

"I don't!" Logan snapped. "I'm not… Please, Oz, I — I don't know what I'm doing here. I can't pretend it doesn't scare the hell outta me. I've always told myself I'm straight, I'm straight, I'm straight. But you made me realize… I shouldn't have to be telling myself that if I just am , right?"

"What are you saying?" Oz hissed.

"I'm saying… I want to explore that," Logan replied. "Explore this , with you, out loud. That I'm tired of hiding in our room and sneaking around. It's fucking exhausting . And if you don't want a relationship, if you're aro like Eli or something, then… Fine. You're tutoring me, right? This is like with my classes. I don't know any of this gay stuff. But — I'd like to. And I like learning it from you."

"Shut up," Oz hissed, yanking his hands out of Logan's grip. "You haven't thought this through."

"Oz, I'm serious." Logan sighed. "I've thought about this a lot. This… I'm ready."

"No, you aren't," Oz snapped as he yanked the sneakers off his feet roughly. "You're not… You're just enjoying the sex. Pavlovian, like you said. Probably imagining me with breasts and a vagina the whole time."

"I'm not!" Logan protested as Oz stood abruptly. "Hey, Oz, c'mon. Come back here."

"No. I need to think. And don't fucking follow me either," Oz ordered, already toeing on his wet shower clogs and angling for the door. "Can have you any way I want, right? Well, I want you right there, studying. The entire night."

"Oz, you can't be serious." Logan rolled his eyes. "Where are you even going?"

"I'm going out. And you don't get to know where."

"Oz!"

"Don't wait up, Logan." The door slammed behind him.

Logan stared after him, feeling hollow.

He looked around for his phone, scrolling to where Oz had added Eli's number to Logan's contacts for him during the ride-share trip home that night after the club.

"In case of gay-mergencies," Oz had laughed at the time, his face bathed in the phone screen's light.

Not sure this is what he had in mind.

Hey

Sorry, but

I think I fucked things up with Oz somehow

He won't listen to me

I'm worried he's going to do something stupid

Or some one , Logan huffed, the memory of Brett's jeering face at the club bubbling up in his memory.

[Eli]:

Oz overthinks things

But he's the smartest guy I know

After me, of course

Give him time to work it through

Easy for him to say

If he could turn back the past hour, Logan would — new sneakers and all. He'd only … Of all people, Logan had thought Oz would understand. Would roll his eyes and say, 'Finally!' upon hearing Logan was finally willing to willing to admit that… all this? Everything they'd been doing together the last few months? The way Logan wasn't merely a present participant anymore, but an enthusiastic, even voluntary partner?

But Oz had made it clear from the start that what they were doing was nothing more than a casual arrangement. They both had. And just because Logan was interested in more, had read more into the situation, had hoped maybe their bargain could form the basis of something like a real relationship …

What a dumbass he'd been.

Oz hadn't wanted a relationship with Logan. And now…

Who knows when he'll be back?

If he'll be back… Logan's traitorous brain whispered.

Logan slumped down onto Oz's bed, dropping his face into his hands.

Oz will be back, Logan told himself. His stuff's here — hell, he barely took shoes, much less a jacket. All Logan had to do was wait right here.

As ordered.