Page 26

Chapter 26

Total Knock Out

"You're still here?"

Lying on Oz's bed as ordered, Logan looked up from his book to see Oz standing in their doorway, soaked from head to toe. For a minute, anger rose inside him that someone had dared pull a 'Wet Wally' again, but —

Eyes flicking to the window, Logan noted the rain-streaked darkness outside and put two and two together.

"Yeah," Logan croaked out as he checked the time on his phone, muscles protesting their use after being held still for so long.

Fuck, it's really only been a couple of hours?

Logan blinked, looking at the stack of textbooks next to him. In the time his… his roommate had been gone, Logan had managed to complete his Algebra homework, plus this week's readings for Biology and Art History. He'd even gotten almost two chapters into the book assigned for his English Lit. class, though the report wasn't due for another three weeks.

Maybe it was worry for Oz, or anxiety about the argument they'd had, or —

Or maybe studying with Oz is like running any other drills. Makes sense that you could get faster, better, most skilled at stuff like this. Too

It's not something Logan had considered before his bargain with Oz, but then... There's been a lot of that lately, hadn't there? With a sigh, Logan closed his book, shoving it and the rest of his schoolwork out of the way.

"You get caught in the rain?" Logan asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up.

"Needed to think." Oz shrugged, eyeing the empty spot next to Logan and staying right where he was. "It wasn't bad when it started. But, then the sky kind of unloaded on me."

Logan nodded, hating this itchy, walking-on-eggshells feeling. The last two times he'd felt it, it'd been just before a girlfriend had dumped him, back in sophomore year, and then junior too. If Oz —

"They're um… Saw them packing away dinner in the dining room," Oz said quietly. "You already eat?"

"No."

"But… It's meatloaf." Oz shot Logan a surprised look. "That was always your favorite, right?"

Logan tilted his head curiously, lips ticking up in a cautious smile.

Don't remember ever telling him that

"Sure, but you told me to be here," Logan answered Oz simply, swallowing harshly around his dry mouth. "So I'm here. Can we talk now?"

Oz's face shuttered as he turned away, as if to leave. "No."

"Oz…"

"There's nothing to say," Oz replied, still not moving.

"Yeah, there is," Logan argued, patting the bed next to him invitingly.

"What?" Oz's lips pursed. "Are you going to try and convince me you're actually gay again?"

Logan sighed. "Oz, lock the damn door and come here." He cocked his head. "Please?"

Oz rolled his eyes, but he stepped inside the safety of their room, locking the door with a particularly vicious jab to make it click .

"I was trying to be honest with you," Logan began.

"Honest?" Oz huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the doorframe. "Okay, be honest then: would you have had sex with me that first night if I hadn't forced you?"

"You didn't force shit."

"Didn't I, though?" Oz whispered in a voice rubbed raw, his eyes locked on the ceiling. "I knew you wanted help, and I used that against you. I made — "

"You offered, " Logan interrupted him. "Maybe not at the start, but… You tried to stop me from doing something stupid. Even offered to help me, no strings attached. All the rest was my own stubbornness and pride, and thank God for it. You tried to give me an out, and I refused. If anything, I forced you. "

"Don't be ridiculous," Oz huffed.

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. "I knew you wanted me, and I used that against you," he said, echoing Oz's own words. "How's that any different? How come I get a pass and you don't?"

"Because – “ Oz bit his lip. "Because it is! Because it feels like every time I've fucked you, I've ordered you into it. What do you call that?"

"A damn good time," Logan shrugged. "I liked it. Apparently, Eli was right: I'm a sub, who knew? Maybe it's because I've spent my whole life being yelled at by one coach or another; told what to do, and how, and who. Or maybe it's just me. There's no way to tell, is there? But are you really gonna stand there and kink shame me for getting turned on when you go all competent and controlling?" He cocked his head, considering it. "Y'know, we could probably make that work, if you want to try."

"Logan…"

"Oz…" Logan echoed in the same damn petulant tone.

"I just… I don't like feeling that I'm…" Oz looked away. "That I'm pushing you into stuff. Making you do something you're not ready for, or that you wouldn't do on your own."

But Logan just laughed. "That's shit and you know it. Who says I wouldn't have discovered this side of myself, eventually? Besides, isn't that what sports, what college, what joining this house is all about: pushing your limits, and trying to be your best? To learn something new?"

"That's easy for you to say," Oz huffed. "Sports, college, frats? That's all 'traditional values' stuff. There's no stigma attached. Sure, there's hazing. But no one's going to send you to the ER because you chose to join the football team, right? No, they put you in a fucking video game . But putting on that uniform is a choice. It's saying, 'Hey world, I'm ready to get tackled today!' Coming out… a lot of times, it works out. But… not always."

Oz's eyes flicked to Logan's, then away again just as fast. And suddenly Logan's world tilted, and —

"Yes, Logan — your roommate is a big flaming homo. You've only been on my case about it for the last four years since I came out."

"Wait," Logan said, reeling. "You've been out four years?"

"You were the one who outed me!" Wally glared. "You literally called me 'Gaylord' our entire freshman year of high school. After that, it's not like the rainbow cat was going back in the bag."

Oh.

"I'd give about anything to go back and change my own coming out," Oz was saying, the haunted look in his eyes horrifyingly raw. He seemed completely unaware Logan was reeling. That he still hadn't recovered from the first punch Oz had landed square in his gut, before delivering the second blow.

"And if there's any chance that… that I've pushed you? Or that you might change your mind later, when it's too late? I just don't want you regretting it, Logan," Oz explained.

'Regretting me ,' Logan heard, clear as day.

"Or feeling about me…. like how I used to feel about you," Oz said quietly. "Back when you'd yell 'Wet Wally' and, well…You know. Before ."

Oh

Oh, fuck.

Back when Logan treated Oz like a punching bag, like the butt of every joke. When Logan would lash out at his own feelings, bullying Oz in their place. When Logan was the bully, and Oz had no way out.

But Oz… he was giving Logan a way out, here. He'd always given Logan a way out. He'd made sure they had a safe word, would check in with him, and made sure Logan knew he could always, a lways say no.

Like Oz… Like Wally never could.

"I don't want to hear anyone call me 'Wally' ever again."

Ding ding ding.

K.O.

"You can't," Logan growled, reaching for Oz and holding out his hand.

His heart lurched painfully in his chest as Oz took it, drawing him down to sit on the bed next to Logan, their thighs pressed up against each other. Logan's words were a tangle, thick and clumsy on his tongue. He was thick and clumsy. Had been, now, for…

For far too long.

"You aren't in high school anymore, son — they broadcast our games all over the world. If you wanna put on our uniform next year, you've got to be worthy of it. There's kids in those stands that'll be looking up to you. Now you tell me…" Coach Rankin nodded at the open file. "This the kind of man you want them to see?"

No. Logan swallowed harshly. No, it isn't.

"What did he have?" Oz asked quietly.

Walter's eyes flicked to the window for a brief moment, before meeting each of their gazes in turn. "A joyful life of his own making," was all he answered

Logan's eyes fell on Oz's face, looking back at him with a worried, resolute expression, and suddenly he knew:

He'd never wanted anything more.

"You can't make me feel like that," Logan assured him. "That's why I trust you. It's what I — what I like about you so much, that you'd think to worry. Me? I'd have just barreled on through, not worrying about who I hurt, like I always do. Hell, it's why I knew I'd be okay making our deal in the first place, whatever you asked of me. Even when I can't trust myself, I know I can trust you . Because…because you're better than me, Oz. And you make me want to be better, too. Back then, I'd get so mad at you for it. Wanted you, and wanted to be like you, and wanted you to like me... I was so, so fucking twisted up and angry about it all, because I didn't know what the fuck to do about any of it. And I'm sorry — I am so fucking sorry I put any of that on you. And I'll spend as long as you want making it up to you, too. Because…"

Logan swallowed harshly.

"Because I… I think I might even love you for it," he whispered, leaning hard against Oz's shoulder, not feeling strong enough just yet to meet Oz's eyes.

"Oh," Oz breathed.

"I swear, I'm not pretending you're a woman, or whatever you said earlier," Logan told him, reaching out slowly to lace his fingers in Oz's hand. "And it's not just Pavlovian, either. Sure, I like what we've been doing. But I also like you , doofus. You've been so fucking patient with me, even though I don't deserve it."

He tugged at their joined hands, pressing a rough kiss to the side of Oz's knuckle before holding it against his cheek.

"Blow jobs are pretty easy to like, Logan," Oz said, but… He didn't pull his hand away.

Soberly, Logan considered Oz's remark. "I liked going to the club with you," Logan told him. "That night with Eli, too. Liked watching that movie with you about the skateboarding elf, and some of the others. It's funny, the way you quote along with the words when you think I'm not listening. Liked it when you fucked my thighs in the shower, and we had to be really quiet to keep from disturbing the entire house. Remember? Fuck, that was so hot, Oz. The whole time, I kept wondering… Hell, was half-hoping you'd slip and — and it'd, um… That you'd go in. I mean, if you were to order me right now to bend over and let you shove your cock up my ass — "

Oz reared back, alarmed. "I'm not — "

"Oz," Logan sighed. "Shut up and listen to me. I'm not ready now , but… It's not completely off the table, is what I'm saying. Just not — Not yet. "

Oz cocked his head, his eyelashes fluttering. "Thought you were scared of being penetrated."

Logan shrugged. "Not scared, just… Okay, yeah — screw you, I am scared. I've been scared this whole time. What if I liked it, Oz? What then? What would that mean if I'd let you finger me? Or you ordered me to suck your cock, or Eli's cock, or — or bend over so you could take my ass the way you did his? I would. I wanted you to, that night you rimmed me before the party. And if you'd asked me to — especially on that night after the club, and the fight, and that damned skirt you had me wear…. Seeing how much Eli enjoyed it? Oz, ready or not, I swear I would've at least tried. Hell, I've jacked off to it twice; I've barely been able to think about anything else since. And what if it felt good? What if I wanted more? Where does that leave me? Where does that leave my career? Where does that leave us ?"