Page 30

Good Causes

"What about the Break Low 's Oz is wearing?" Noah asked quickly.

"Four hundred going twice — "

"What about 'em?" Logan replied, distracted as he held up his hand and flashed a four, then a five at the auctioneer.

"Four fifty! Four fifty to the gentleman in the back. How exciting, folks! Now, do I have a five, a five, a five — Yes, sir!"

Damn it. It was Noah's dad again, holding up five fingers as he frowned at something on his phone.

Glancing up, Logan met Noah's smug expression with a glare just in time to catch Noah switching his phone off.

"What d'ya say?" Noah asked, gesturing up at where Oz stood on the auction block, wearing a perplexed and slightly dazed expression on his face. "Two hundred enough for your boyfriend's honor? Or would you rather keep the kicks?"

"Six hundred going once — "

Logan collected sneakers because it made him happy, he'd said to Oz.

Oz makes me happy. Logan decided. And one more box stacked up at the bottom of my closet can't compete with that

"Make it three," he told Noah.

Noah snorted, shaking his head. "And risk that queer sharing my spotlight? Not a chance. Two seventy-five, and that's final."

"Two seventy-five, and + you get your dad to stop bidding," Logan countered.

"Fine with me," Noah replied. "Deal?"

"Five hundred going twice — "

"Done," Logan agreed, holding out his hand to shake.

After I have Oz fuck my thighs again or something while he's wearing them, of course

As soon as Noah gripped his hand, Logan's other hand flashed up.

"Six hundred!" Logan yelled, the words spilling out of him, and the room fell silent.

There was a beat, and then —

"Six… hundred ," the auctioneer murmured, peering around the room. "Son, are you sure? That's quite a lot of money at your age."

"He's worth every bit of it," Logan said, fighting to keep from looking over at Oz, fearing he'd only find him wearing a furious expression. "And it's, um… It's for a good cause." Logan shrugged.

"Oh, uh… Yes, it certainly is," the auctioneer agreed, obviously flustered. "Well then! Six hundred to beat. Do I hear seven hundred?"

Logan swore as Noah's dad waved at the auctioneer again, his ear pressed to his phone.

"Who's he talking to?" Noah muttered.

"Seven hundred going once — "

Logan didn't care. "You said you'd get him to stop!"

"I mean, I texted him," Noah replied, holding up his phone so Logan could see the wall of ' STOP BIDDING!' texts filling the screen. "How could I have known he'd take a call in the middle of this thing?"

"Seven hundred going twice — "

"Seven seventy five!" Logan shouted, going for broke.

Literally

But the idea of letting Noah make Oz's life hell, even for a day?

It's steep but… I was given those sneakers. I didn't spend my own cash. And I made Oz's life suck for four years. I owe him. And if —

"DAMN IT!" Logan and Noah both shouted, as Noah's dad balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear to hold up an eight.

"We have eight hundred dollars, folks!" the auctioneer crowed, getting into it now. "What a wonderful gesture, ladies and gentlemen. Of course, the San Morado Children's Hospital will be the true winner tonight. Is there anyone willing to help them out to the tune of nine — that's nine hundred dollars for a date with this — this very popular young man!"

Noah gave a disgusted noise as his distracted dad gave him a double thumbs up. Past him, up on the block, Oz looked somewhere between pleased and terrified.

"Nine hundred," the auctioneer asked, his expression polite as he waited expectantly for Logan's bid.

But Logan was tapped out. There'd be no time to make it to an ATM and back. He couldn't even go digging into the couch cushions on the sofas in the den, as these days everyone relied on plastic. Even the laundry machines down in the Mu Tau Rho basement were tap-to-pay now; Logan hadn't carried around physical money in years.

He shook his head no, anger and shame burning red hot across his skin.

"Alright then, ladies and gentlemen! It looks like eight hundred is the number to beat. That puts this young man tied with the record tonight. I believe this will be the first time ever in Minotaur House history that we could have not only one, but two Bull Ribbon Bulls!"

Next to him, he could practically hear Noah's teeth grinding as he seethed, so…that was something, right?

He'll just take it out on Oz , a small voice whispered . By trying to help, did you just actually make this whole thing worse?

…Oh crap

"Eight hundred going once — "

Noah's dad pulled his phone away from his ear, apparently finally finished with his call. He peered down at his screen —

Then he did a double-take, before turning to Noah with an apologetic shrug.

"Idiot," Noah huffed.

Logan glanced at him, shocked.

"Eight hundred going twice — "

"I'll bid nine hundred," came a familiar voice over the chattering crowd.

His sweater vest was a deep blue this time, and his bow tie was teal with white polka-dots, but it was —

"Walter!" the auctioneer beamed. "Glad you could make it this year! And what an entrance — wow! That's going to be a hard one to top, folks, but I bet we can do it. Can we get a full thousand for the Children's Hospital tonight?"

The auctioneer's attention landed on Noah's father, and Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he sheepishly shook his head no. It was his turn next, apparently; Logan also shaking his head at the auctioneer's inquiring expression.

No one met the auctioneer's gaze as it swept the room, until his eyes fell back on Walter.

"Well, Walter, it seems the bid is to you. That's nine hundred to you, sir. Going once —"

Logan swallowed, his eyes locked on Oz's wide-eyed face.

"Nine hundred, going twice —"

"Sold!" The auctioneer banged his gavel, beaming. "Congratulations to Walter, to the Children's Hospital, and to our newest contender for 'Blue Ribbon Bull!'"

Logan felt his knees go weak, and he sagged against the wall.

Holy shit

"Holy shit, man," Ashton echoed, clapping his hands together as he dissolved into laughter. "Noah — you got beat by Oz !"

"Yeah," Logan agreed, swallowing as a beaming Oz stepped off the stage, making his way directly for Logan with the biggest smile on his face. "He sure did."

"You fucking idiot ," Oz laughed as he drew near, the sheer brilliance of his grin undermining every word. "Where the hell were you planning to get that kind of money?"

"Oh, you know," Logan murmured. "Sold some old junk I didn't need anymore."

"Spring cleaning?"

"Yeah, guess so," Logan grinned. "Gotta make room for the important things."

“Oz!” a woman's voice cried out, and a few vague memories combined with the way Oz’s face lit up at the sound made it an easy guess who its owner was.

“Mom?” Oz said, turning just as the shorter woman enfolded him in a hug.

“I'm so sorry we were late, baby,” she told Oz. “Someone called and left a message that there'd been a mixup, and the whole thing had been moved to tomorrow night.”

“Thankfully, my old roommate called me up; said he was in town and going to this thing, and set me straight,” said the salt-and-pepper man who joined them, who could only be Oz’s father. “We rushed right over — didn't even think to stop by the ATM to get out cash. Did we miss it?”

“Yeah,” Oz answered with a wry little smile. “By just a few seconds. But that's okay, you're here now.”

"That we are!” Mrs. Mercer said, her hand flitting here and there over the front of Oz’s suit to smooth out invisible wrinkles. “And oh, Oz, you look so handsome. George — doesn't he look handsome?”

“Of course he does,” Mr. Mercer agreed. “He's my son, after all.”

"Dad!" Oz mock-whined, grinning as his dad reached out to tap Oz's pocket square. “Looking sharp, kiddo.”

“Wait – ” said Logan, abruptly turning to scan the room as he realized – “There’s something missing.”

"Did they not have any dress shoes your size, honey?" Mrs. Mercer asked, gesturing towards Oz's sneakers.

"Oh, these are Logan’s," Oz said nervously. "There weren't many left that looked decent, and he said this would look better."

"And I was right," Logan flashed him a smile, distracted.

"Logan…" Mr. Mercer said slowly. "You’re Stewart’s son, aren’t you? Stewart St. James, the football coach for San Morado High?”

“Yes, sir," Logan nodded, leaning forward to shake Mr. Mercer's outstretched hand.

"I seem to remember you and Wally — "

Mrs. Mercer cleared her throat pointedly.

" — and Oz," Mr. Mercer corrected himself. "Used to get into some spats at school."

Logan grimaced. "Yeah. I – "

"Oh, Logan's gotten a lot more bearable these days," Oz interrupted him in a breezy tone. It earned a grateful look from Logan, who did not especially want to explain to his boyfriend's dad why he used to bully his son. "He even makes a half-decent roommate… Well, most of the time."

Logan mock-huffed, hamming it up for Oz's parents, sure, but mostly because it made the warm smile on Oz's face tick up a full size.

"Oh, you're the roommate? Well! That's a whole different beast, then," Mr. Mercer said, his face brightening so quickly Logan couldn't help but wonder what stories Oz had told them. "You should come visit some weekend. Bring Oz, too. I'm starting to suspect it’s the only way we’ll see him during the school year, except for events like this."

"Dad!" Oz groaned.

"What'd I do? Oh, there's Ken Robbinson! I haven't seen him in a decade. Do you mind if I — " Mr. Mercer made a little 'over there' gesture, to which Mrs. Mercer made a little shooing motion.

"Oh, go on," she laughed. "Go play with your friends."

"C'mon," Mr. Mercer said. "I'll introduce you boys."

"You go ahead. I need to go take care of something really quick." Logan told him, seeing Noah lurking by the doorway. But at Oz's disappointed look, Logan flashed a smile. "I'll catch up with you in a minute. I promise."

Logan startled as Mrs. Mercer laid her hand on his arm.

"You really should come by with Oz some weekend," she told him with the same cheerfully determined expression Logan was used to seeing Oz wear. "We so rarely get to meet any of Oz's friends. It would be lovely to have you come visit."

"Oh, um. Yeah." Logan grinned. "I mean, if Oz wants me to tag along."

Mrs. Mercer smiled. "Oh, I don't think that will be a problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm being summoned."

From the way Mr. Mercer was waving his arms to get their attention, Logan had no doubt.

As she left, Logan made a beeline for the sulky profile of Noah, still by the chapter room door.

As soon as he got close enough, Logan snapped his fingers at Noah to get his attention.

“Hand it over,” Logan told him, holding out his palm impatiently.

"Hand what over?" Noah scoffed, pretending to be incredibly interested in the ancient wood paneling covering the wall.

"The award, Noah. You know it's Oz's."

"Nuh-uh!" Noah said. "It's only intermission. Maybe someone in the second round will beat him. Hell, y ou haven't gone yet."

"With nine hundred to beat?" Logan scoffed. "Unlikely. Besides, you know he's supposed to be the one to wear it until then. Now, you either hand it over so I can deliver it to him, or I can take it from you. What's it going to be?"

Scowling, Noah pulled the blue ribbon of the award over hishead, slapping it in Logan's palm with a desultory, 'Fine. Here .'

"Thanks, man," Logan beamed at him. "It's for a good cause, right?"

Noah huffed, eyes narrowing like he was about to start. But Logan was already turning away, not bothering to listen.

He scanned the crowded room for Oz and his family, finally spotting them in a knot of alumni; Oz talking excitedly about something or another as his dad and two others listened intently, occasionally interjecting something here and there.

Take that, Ashton. Logan smirked, hand curling around the award Oz had won. T old you he's Minotaur House material

"You two seem to be… good friends," Walter said, coming up on Logan's other side.

Logan nodded. "Didn't use to be, back in high school," he admitted. "But Oz has been helping me study, and we've… we've figured out how to get along."

"Funny how that works," Walter smiled, shooting Logan a sidelong glance as his mouth curved up in a small grin. "I noticed your roommate had several figures from those A Sunless Land books on his shelves," he said, changing the subject abruptly.

Logan hesitated a moment, then nodded. Oz had told him a little about the little collection of queer-led fantasy books he kept on his shelf. And if Walter already knew about some of them... What was the use of denying what Walter had already seen? "He likes that series," Logan replied neutrally.

"Me too," Walter grinned. "I was thinking your roommate might like to meet the author, have lunch with us as my plus-one to fulfill his portion of the auction 'date'.

"God, he'd love that." Logan blinked. "You really know the author?"

"We're old friends." Walter chuckled. "Unfortunately, my flight leaves out in the morning, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to get out this way again. If I make the arrangements, can I trust you to take my place and see that — Oz, right? — that Oz has a good time?"

"Absolutely," Logan grinned, then shifted awkwardly. "Thank you, by the way. For bidding on him. Some of the guys here have been on his case for — for being different. It gets to him sometimes. Tonight… I think you've gone a long way to fixing it."

"Son, I won't pretend things aren't hard for those who are different," Walter said, looking over at where Oz was laughing, still talking with his folks. "But we've come a long way from how things used to be, too. United by eternal bonds of brotherhood… " he said, quoting part of the Mu Tau Rho pledge.

Warmth filled Logan's chest to hear it; Walter's words resonating with a weight beyond that of just one elderly man's weathered, trembling voice.

" — Always striving for excellence; together, forever ," Logan finished with him, smiling broadly as Walter beamed back at Logan, wearing a grin to match.

"Exactly," Walter nodded. "And as long as we remember that; as long as we stay united; as long as we always remember to choose hope over fear? Then things will keep getting better. Slowly. Too slowly, sometimes. But in the end, they will. And one day, there will come a generation who live and breathe that promise; who know only hope; that never have to fight at all. Until then, it's up to us."

Logan looked over at Oz, Walter's words swirling around inside his skull; filling in the gaps and taking root.

"Besides, if Danny were here, it'd be the sort of thing he'd do." Walter snorted, but his tone was fondly pleased. "Probably bully me into it until I agreed, too; saying 'it's all for a good cause', you know?"

"Yes, sir," Logan replied as Oz turned and flashed them a smile, pulling his mom's hand excitedly as he led them over. "I think I do."

"What are we talking about?" Oz asked as he and his parents came over to stand at Logan's side.

"Good causes," Logan told him, pulling the slightly crumpled Blue Ribbon award from his suit pocket and looping it over Oz's head. Grinning at Oz's startled expression, Logan closed the distance between them on the pretext of smoothing the wide blue ribbon into place.

He took a deep breath —

"Let him see you, sugar," Eli murmured. "Be his daring boy tonight, and show him who you are…"

"And choosing hope over fear," Logan added, sliding a casual arm around Oz's waist, just like they were any other couple here; carefully watching Oz's expression shift from hesitant wonder to a welcoming, enthusiastic smile.

"A very good cause indeed," Walter nodded, grinning as Oz's parents chorused a 'Here, here!', both beaming at their son proudly.

"This the kind of man you want them to see?" Coach Rankin had asked of a lost young man, giving Logan one final chance he hadn't deserved

"Yes," Logan grinned, leaning into Oz. "Yes, it is."