New story. I'm apologizing in advance. I know I have other stories to update, but things get in the way, and you get distracted and yeah. I'm sorry.

The lights are bright inside the corner diner, they always are. The fluorescents have a way of making the skin seem pale and translucent, almost is if you're at a hospital. Logan likes the corner diner, more so known as the Corner Clock. It's a getaway for him, an escape from everything and everyone, not that he knew too many people besides his parents and the lovely waitress Betty that he's grown to know over the past few years.

He'll miss this place, that's for sure. When he leaves in the morning, or later that day, Logan knows the Corner Clock is the only place he'll miss. Surely he won't miss his home or his stepdad - that bastard - he won't miss his room or his school or his friends. Maybe he'll miss his mom, but that's quite a big maybe. He's hoping New York will do much better for him than Minnesota ever did.

Logan was like a package, something to be sent away to get better use somewhere else. No one wanted him at home, except for maybe his mom. He knew it was all his stepdads doing, shipping Logan off halfway across the country to the East coast. Out of sight, out of mind, Logan was just a burden for the man - a burden that would soon be no more.

When his parents sat down and explained the whole ordeal to him, they made it seem like a vacation, the Palmwoods Academy being a sort of paradise with a view of the New York skyline, centered right on the outskirts of the city that never slept. At first Logan was excited, he couldn't wait to go. Just the infinite amount of possibilities that could happen in a new town, a new city, a new state, a new time zone! It was all he could think about, because soon he'd be gone. That was all until he realized it was just an excuse for his family to get rid of him - which almost made him want to stay home and make them suffer - only staying home wouldn't just suck for them, it'd suck for him too.

That's why Logan had a duffel bag full of clothes, waiting at home on his bed, packed and ready to go. Everything inside checked once, twice, three times by Logan just for the brunette to make sure he had absolutely everything he needed. He didn't want to chance leaving something at home only to have his mom ship it over and his stepfather complain about the cost – not that it should be much of an issue considering the man was forking over a ridiculous sum of money for Logan's new, prestigious prep school. But he guessed that meant he'd have to pay the price to get Logan out of his hair.

To try and detach himself from his thoughts Logan decides to take in the atmosphere of the diner and let it all sink in one last time before he leaves. The jet black cushions on the booths, the electric blue color of the table cloths, and the pristine white of the linoleum; his brown eyes rove over every inch of the place, the large clock on the wall where Logan swears he can hear the second hand tick by, the juke box in the corner, the same songs forever on loop, the men in the back kitchen, watching EPSN on their tiny TV, and the waitress waddling over to Logan now with a pen in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Logan, honey, need a refresher?" The lady, Betty asks, stopping just at the end of his table. Logan looks down to the coffee mug in front of him; he'd forgot it was even there. Swirling his spoon a few times through the dark liquid, he pulls the cup up to his lips, letting the coffee linger on his tongue as he forces the bland taste down. Bleh.

"It's a little cold," he mumbles softly, averting his gaze as Betty pours a little more into his cup.

"Darling I will never understand you, why drink coffee when you don't like it?"

Logan shrugs. "My chemistry teacher always said, 'bring book and coffee to class. Don't care if you don't like coffee, do you like chemistry? No, yet you come anyway, so bring coffee too'." Logan chuckles fondly at the memory. "He was such a strange man, wise, but strange. The coffee just sort of became a habit."

Betty rolls her eyes and tightens her apron. "Teachers these days, think they know everything, warping the minds of students. Honey if you don't like coffee, drink something else. Drink tea."

Logan shakes his head. "Tea is for schmucks. I'm a man."

"If you're sure, then you're a man with foul taste." Betty smiles and ruffles Logan's hair, the brunette instantly freezing. Noticing his reaction Betty pulls her hand away quickly. "Sorry, I just forget sometimes."

He struggles with a response as his lips form the words, the sounds at the tip of his tongue. "It's fine, I think it's getting better." Betty knew what Logan meant by 'it'. Logan had been coming to the Corner Clock for so long that he'd gained a confidant in her. He was forever grateful. If it weren't for the kind lady he would have blown his brains out a long time ago.

Betty slides in the booth across the table from Logan, her forehead scrunching together in worry. "You think so?" No, not really. Logan nods his head. "Boy I hope so, you can't be afraid all the time."

"Maybe New York will change that."

Howling with laughter Betty throws her head back with a smile. "You're moving from a small town to one of the biggest cities in the world, and you're thinking you'll be safer there, surrounded by people?"

Logan turns his head down, his brown eyes examining the table cloth, suddenly finding the electric blue color fascinating. His fingers fumble with the edge of the dainty material where there's a tear in the corner. "Anywhere is safer than here."

Betty lets out a long sigh, capturing Logan's attention. She changes the subject, for which Logan is thankful. "So when do you leave again?"

His eyes roll over to the clock, the time reading three thirty-seven in the morning. "Flight leaves at seven, but we're leaving the house around five. Peter says its safe to be early, but I think he just wants me gone sooner."

"Doesn't that mean you should be heading home soon?" Logan nods. "I mean before they wake up so they don't realize you're gone." The boy knows his parents know. He doesn't sleep. He hasn't in forever, not since the incidents. His bed is always too cold or too hot, or the creaking and cricking of the furnace always keeps him awake, his eyes locked open throughout the night, every sound sending shocks spiraling up and down his spine. He used to wish the darkness would just swallow him up and take him away from everything, but he'd been getting better the past few weeks. The closer the date came for his departure, the more Logan felt his mind take a break from what happened before and instead thinking about what could be. New York was full of 'what could be.'

"It really doesn't matter if I'm there or not, either way they don't care."

A sad smile plays across Betty's lips. "They care honey, they just don't know how to show it."

Logan scoffs and runs a hand through his hair out of annoyance. "Whatever, I guess I better be heading home." It was time for that conversation to end.

They both get to their feet, Logan waiting as Betty scoots herself out from the booth. She walks him over to door, wishing him well at his new school, hoping he makes friends and learns to live a little. Logan flashes her his famous, lopsided grin and moves in for a hug, all but shocking the poor, tiny woman. "You really are getting better."

Even though the touch makes Logan want to cringe and hide away deep inside his own skin, he lets himself be enveloped in her arms, knowing this is the first and last time it would ever happen. "I really am. Bye Betty."

She notices the lifelessness in his eyes and the way he's trembling when she lets him go. He's really not getting better; he's just putting on a show for her. But she hopes him pretending will soon make him believe it's true, and that he is better and that he's not terrified anymore. "Bye Logan."

The little bell tinkles as Logan exits the diner with his head bent down, watching as the concrete moves underneath his feet, making his way back home.

Once inside the old abode, Logan kicks off his sneakers by the door, leaving his jacket to hang on the rack. He tiptoes up the stairs and down the hall, past his parents' room where he's thankful to hear the sounds of Peter's obnoxious snores. At least they're still asleep.

In his own bedroom, Logan's eyes cast over the bareness of it all. Except for the lamp resting on his nightstand and the TV in the corner, the room was basically empty. Everything he owned was either in boxes in his closet or snuggly contained in his duffel bag and carry on. It was almost as though Logan didn't exist, and that he didn't live there at all.

Logan pulls back the covers on his bed and sneaks beneath the sheets. With his head lying softly against the pillow he closes his eyes faintly, hoping for at least an hour of rest. The max he'd ever get was three, if he was lucky, but tonight his deadline was an hour, and he couldn't be happier. Yawning he pulls the covers further up his shoulders, sinking into a comfortable silence as he rubs his lips together a few times before letting his mouth fall shut and sleep overtake him.

Its maybe a half hour later when he hears them.

Logan peeks an eye open to look at his watch, sure enough it's around four-thirty. The sky outside is still dark from what he can see through his curtains, but what's outside isn't any part of his interest. Instead it's the sounds of a creaking bed that has his ears perked and his attention alert. He grabs his pillow and slams it over his head, trying and failing to block out the soft moans and heated grunts. He surely wasn't going to miss this once he moved.

It goes on for a while, the moans turning into screams of agonizing pleasure somewhere along the line. Logan doesn't understand why they can't wait until he leaves to fuck; they know he can hear them. Thin walls in a house as small as theirs speak volumes. Every sound reverberates through them, and with Logan's heightened sense he swore he could hear a pin drop downstairs if he tried hard enough. Of course he'd rather listen to a million pins fall rather than his parents get it on.

After about ten minutes Logan is restless in his bed, wishing it would end. He isn't sure what's worse. The fighting, the screaming, the swearing until their faces are red in the face, or the lovely intimate moments such as the times they decide to fuck in the middle of the night. Logan's sure it's the latter, but sometimes the fights get nasty, and that's when he knows to just stay out of the way, out of sight, out of mind.

When they finish Logan silently thanks whatever higher power there may be. The time is four forty-five and Logan is grinning, because he only has just over a half hour left until he says goodbye to his family for the next five months.

Logan suffers through the car ride, listening to the disc-jockey on the radio drone on about the weather and traffic while his mom turns to face him from the front seat with a wide grin. She tells him about all the things she wants him to do and encourages him to see while out on East Coast. "Remember, your weekends are free for you. You're allowed to leave the campus and go wherever you want." Yes of course, she's always mindful of the rules. "Now Logie just remember to see the city and be a tourist, go on an adventure, have some fun." Logan scoffs with a roll of the eyes as if that's possible. "Bring me back an 'I heart NY shirt'."

Even though he doubts she's paying attention to him Logan nods his head at each of her requests, mentally storing her checklist in the back of his mind. It was the least he could do for his mom because she was just so excited for him. He would be able to do something she never had the chance to do. In essence, she is temporarily living vicariously through him. "I will Mom, I will." Logan says as she tapers off, her long list of things to do finally ending on some random note, Logan unable to remember what she last said.

The rest of the car trip she gushes on and on about how much she's going to miss her baby boy. This is the longest Logan would ever be away from home, away from her. A tear shines in the corners of her eyes and Logan knows she's being sincere. Like he mentioned before, if he missed anything it'd be his mom. "Mom, stop we're here." Logan mumbles, the blubbering continuing up until they reached the front entrance of the airport where drop offs and pickups are located.

Everyone steps out of the car, Peter being kind enough to grab Logan's bag from the trunk. He doesn't even shove it into Logan's awaiting arms like the boy expects, he's even being cordial. "We'll miss you," Peter says with a bit of sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Logan glances at his stepdad and sees the smile on his face, making Logan want to cringe and step out of the man's line of vision. Instead Logan gives him a hard glare, his fists curled at his side all before his mom swoops him into a hug, catching him off guard.

"Mom," Logan whines, hoping he's coming across as embarrassed rather than a little shaken up. He collects his bearings and gives his mom a dimpled grin. Her smile is sad and her cheeks are tearstained.

"You're not even going to let me hug you goodbye?" Mrs. Mitchell sniffles, her arms falling bitterly to her sides in protest.

Logan tries to remember the last time he hugged his mother, or anyone for that matter, excluding Betty from earlier that morning. He racks his brain, thinking and thinking until the organ actually hurts. He can't remember. Logan looks at her face, and more closely her eyes, the deep brown just the same as his own, and he remembers when it was just the two of them against the world, back when they didn't need Peter or his dad… Feeling a slight twinge of remorse, he steps forward and pulls his mom into an embrace. Once he's wrapped in her arms she whispers in his ear, "I'm sorry for everything, but I already miss you."

"You too, Mom."

"I love you Logie."

"Mmhm." Logan mumbles into her shoulder, squeezing her a bit tighter before letting go. "Pe-" the glower Logan receives burns his retinas. "…dad." He nods his head in his stepfather's direction.

"Logan…what no hug for your big man?" the brunette takes a step back, with his duffel strapped around his shoulder, plane ticket in his hand. Logan swallows the thick lump in his throat, stepping forward with shaky breaths and jittering knees. Peter engulfs him in a hug, suffocating Logan to his chest while the boy holds his breath. He doesn't move, he just waits for it to be over, until he can finally get away. "That's my boy."

Peter lets Logan go, the boy finally taking a much needed breath. He stumbles out of his hold awkwardly and waves one last time at his parents.

Once he starts walking Logan doesn't turn back to catch their gaze, he just keeps on going, following his feet in the direction they're headed. He hears his mom's voice ringing in his ears, reminding him that she loves him just one last time. Peter even says it too, but Logan ignores that completely, he knows it's only a charade for his mom.

Inside the airport there are families together in line, moms keeping an eye on their children, teenagers on their cell phones, dads talking business. Most schools haven't started yet, it's still just the first week of August, and school is the last thing on most kids' minds. But not for Palmwoods Academy, nope they like to get an early start with vigorous course work, forcing teens heads out from whatever gutter they fell into over the summer.

Logan scrambles into line behind the rest of them, right behind a rather tall blond boy that Logan could only guess was around his age. The blond has headphones covering his ears, more than likely dead to the world. He looks exhausted, with the rolling suitcase at his side, his phone tucked into his pocket. With him are - Logan guessing again - a younger sister and his mom. The brunette just assumes considering the conversation passing between the two, not that he was eavesdropping. Nope not at all.

When the blond and his family reach the counter, Logan pays attention to the way the blond sighs as he shuts off his music, letting his headphones hang from around his neck. He hands his plane ticket to the TSA and Logan notices he's the only one with a boarding pass, or a bag for that matter. At least Logan wasn't the only one flying solo and that realization put a grin on his face.

The blond and his family finish quickly at the counter, leaving Logan to pass through even faster. The TSA weighs his luggage and sends him on his way, eyeing Logan's carry on as he leaves. Right outside the security area Logan catches back up with the blond, just catching the last few words exchanged between him and his mom. He learns the blond's name, Kendall, and even learns they have the same flight. What are the chances of that?

Still shadowing the blond - now Kendall - Logan follows him through the security gates and out into the terminal. There are fast food stations about every other shop down the long hall leading to the gates. He watches the blond strut into a cafe, Logan deciding quick that it wouldn't hurt to follow, or at least that's what he thought.

"Can I help you?" Kendall rounds on Logan, letting his headphones fall back around his neck while glaring down at him and Logan gasps. Those eyes, he knows those eyes; such a vivid green laced with malice as they burn holes into Logan's flesh. A shudder involuntarily coils down his spine.

"May I help you." Logan corrects him, the blond only getting more annoyed.

"Dude, I asked you first." Kendall raises his eyebrows and looks off to the side, distinctly muttering, "weirdo," under his breath.

"No," Logan shakes his head and sighs. "You said can I help you, when the correct way to ask is may I help you. I was just fixing you."

"Yeah, well find someone else to fix, what are you a fucking teacher? You sure as hell sound like one." Okay, so maybe Logan doesn't want to get caught up with this Kendall guy. He seems too much of a dick for Logan's liking.

Logan mumbles a small "sorry" and steps back from Kendall, retreating out of the cafe, his eyes set on the bookstore up ahead. Best way to travel is when you're accompanied with nothing but a good book.

He scans the shelves two, three, maybe even four times until he finds himself facing six different literary works of art. Over the covers, Logan rubs his hand across the printed letters of the titles and the authors' names, feeling the bumps beneath the tips of his fingers, knowing that if he closes his eyes he can still make out what they say as if they were braille. Sighing in content Logan pilfers through the many pages, drowning in the scent of a new book, listening as the spine rustles, crinkles, and cracks open for the first time.

Logan debates for a while, finally choosing something to read and picking up a bag of Swedish Fish on his way to the cashier. There's a small line but Logan doesn't mind. Instead he takes the chance to get a head start, the book clasped firmly in his hand as he opens to the first page.

"Not you again," he hears someone complain from behind him. Resisting the urge to ignore them and continue reading Logan looks up and finds himself face to face with the blond jackass from before.

"I swear I'm not following you."

Kendall smirks, the left corner of his lips shooting up, a deep dimple forming on his cheek as though it were etched into the smooth surface of his skin. "Sure seems like it." Kendall gives Logan a once over, obviously amused with what he sees. "What you got there?"

He doesn't know why he bothers to answer the blond, but Logan does either way. In his hand he holds out the Swedish fish, earning a playful smile from Kendall, and although he enjoys keeping to himself, he rotates the cover of the book for Kendall to see. "One of my favorites." The blond comments, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

Logan nods in agreement, "Dystopian literature at its finest."

Kendall snorts, "You're such a dork. 'Dystopian literature at its finest'." He mocks Logan, rolling his green eyes up to the ceiling and back. "What's your name?"

"Logan." He says, averting his gaze.

"Well," Kendall starts, pausing to capture Logan's attention once more, his long fingers fumbling with the cord of his headphones, which are still draped around his neck. Logan glances back up. "Aren't you going to ask me mine?"

Logan shakes his head. "You're Kendall." The blond quirks an eyebrow, as if he's asking how Logan knows. "I heard you with your family earlier." Logan finishes, realizing just how much of a creep he sounds like. He mumbles a quiet, "sorry."

"Dude you're such a fucking weirdo. Should I be creeped out?" Logan notices he's next in line. He holds up a finger, silently asking Kendall to hold on as he pays for his things. Once he's done he rips open the Swedish fish and falls into step beside the blond as they walk farther down the terminal towards their gate.

"I don't like talking to people, so instead I listen. Sorry for eavesdropping."

"Whatever, it's no big deal." Kendall reaches for his headphones, just about ready to cover his ears back up before he stops. "Wait, how do you not like to talk? I do it all the fucking time, although my friend Carlos, man you can never get him to shut up."

Logan swallows the lump that forms in his throat. Another thing he doesn't like - talking about himself. He shrugs in what he hopes is a rather nonchalant way and speaks. "I don't know, I just don't."

"Well how about-" they've reached their gate, A7 and pause. "Here's my stop." Kendall unslings his carry on from around his shoulders and slumps into a chair, eyebrows perking up in interest when Logan takes the seat beside him.

"Same flight." Logan mutters at Kendall's bewildered expression, watching as his lips turn up just slightly at the corners.

"Okay...now what was I about to say?" Kendall taps his chin in thought, his headphones once again hanging from his neck forgotten. "Oh yeah, tell me something about yourself."

"Why?"

"I'm just trying to get you to talk, you know it's not always safe being stuck inside your head all day." A look Logan can't quite decipher passes over Kendall's features, if only for a brief moment. If he blinked he would have missed it. "Human interaction is a good thing."

Deciding he'll play along, Logan leans back into the worn out cushions of the chair and gives Kendall his full attention. "What do you want to know?"

"What is a dork such as yourself - who looks like his best friend is his mom - doing all alone in an airport, about to board a plane to New York? I mean, I realize Minnesota is about as exciting as watching paint dry, but why?"

Logan lets that all sink in, huffing at the comment about his mom. "First off, my mom's not my best friend. And secondly, I could ask you the same question."

Kendall nudges Logan's shoulder with his own. "Yes, but you see I asked you first."

Logan rolls his chocolaty eyes up to the ceiling before landing them back on Kendall's green ones. "There's this school in New York my parents enrolled me in, Palmwoods Academy."

A sigh escapes Kendall's parted lips. "Ahh, the good old Palmwoods, where palming wood is my favorite pastime." Kendall chuckles at the way Logan's eyes turn as wide as saucers. "I go there too, newbie." Kendall nudges Logan again, getting Logan to grin even if the boy's still shocked about the previous statement.

"Oh, is it nice there?"

"It's school, so basically it's a pile of shit, with shitty ass teachers, shitty as dorm rooms, and shitty ass rules." Kendall begins to fumble with his headphones again. "But the kids are pretty rad. The girls, now their chests literally go out to here." Kendall gives Logan a demonstration, holding his hands out and cupping invisible breasts in his palms. "And the guys...well like I said, I like to palm wood." He raises an eyebrow suggestively and Logan's heart just barely skips a beat, but he knows it did.

"So, you're um...into that kind of stuff then." Logan really doesn't know what to say, being so far out of his comfort zone that he wants to sink into the cushions of the chair and disappear.

"What do you mean by 'stuff'?"

"Like sex...and boys...and girls. So you're bi."

Kendall shakes his head, blond bangs sweeping across his forehead and falling right back into place. "I'm not a fan of labels. And duh, who doesn't like sex? It like, makes the world go round or some shit like that."

Logan feels his cheeks heat up, betraying him and his embarrassment. "Right, right. Of course. Everyone loves a good banging."

The blond snorts, like actually snorts. His face scrunches up and he falls back into his own chair laughing so hard Logan's not sure if he can breathe, or if he even is breathing because Kendall's wheezing, gasping for air while he clutches his stomach. Once he calms down and has the chance to catch his breath he opens his mouth to speak, his lips still stretched into a wide smile. "I cannot believe you just said that."

Logan's brow furrows in confusion. He doesn't think he's said anything out of the ordinary. "What'd I say?" He asks all innocently.

"Dude. No one says banging. It's called fucking, and damn does it feel good." Logan quirks an eyebrow because he doesn't know just how good a good fucking feels. "A little anal fisting never hurt anybody." Kendall smiles, laughing at the look of utter horror on Logan's face.

"Oh my, do people really shove their fists up other people's butts?" Another thing, Logan doesn't swear, at least not out loud.

"It's not exactly my area of expertise but yeah, some people really like it up the ass." Logan doesn't miss Kendall's emphasis on the word.

"Kendall you are something else." Logan mutters under his breath, looking at the blond in complete awe.

"I'm a one of a kind and freak in the sheets. What can I say?"

The speaker above their heads comes to life, announcing that it's time to board the plane. The interruption keeps Logan from continuing on with their earlier conversation as he sparks up a new subject. "Hey where's your seat?"

Kendall pries his ticket from the pocket of his jeans. "22D, that's window right?"

Logan curses in his mind instead of under his breath. "Darn, I'm 24B."

Kendall throws a sideway glance in the brunette a direction. "You just can't get enough of me can you?"

"No I just get awkward around strangers - people in general, and being confined on aircraft surrounded by a whole crowd of people with no escape for four hours can really put a guy on edge."

"Do you have some like, social phobia or something?"

"No." Yes.

"Whatever, if the seat beside me is empty its up for grabs."

Logan grins from ear to ear. "Really? Thanks."

"Yup." Kendall pops the p, and with that he places his headphones back over his ears, bopping his head to the beat up until they are seated on the plane. When Logan notices the space beside Kendall remains untaken, he whirrs over and plops right down. He tucks his carry on under the seat ahead of him but keeps his book out in his lap with the Swedish Fish packed away securely in the pouch in front of him. Once the stewardess begins her demonstration of the safety procedures Logan's all ears, not wanting to miss a single bit of information.

He can feel Kendall's eyes on him as he pays close attention to the brochure in front of him, explaining how to securely fasten an oxygen mask or what to do if the plane crashes into a body of water. Just the thought has Logan's stomach somersaulting and his intestines knotting. He feels a bit queasy.

Kendall turns off his iPod for now, not that take off is soon to come and prods Logan with his elbow. "Are you afraid of flying?"

Logan doesn't really have an answer, because he's never been higher than maybe ten feet off the ground. But once the plane starts pulling out of the gate as it heads to the runway, Logan feels his stomach bubble. He grips the armrests, his knuckles stark white against his regularly pale complexion as his fingers tense, his grip like a vice. "N-no." Logan murmurs, finally answering Kendall's question.

"I'm pretty sure you're lying. Have you ever flown before?" Logan shakes his head, deciding its best to keep his mouth closed for the time being. Kendall chuckles before continuing on. "Okay, its best to just close your eyes and breathe. Don't think about the fact that we'll be around 36,000 feet in the air or that we'll be going around 500 mph."

Logan peeks open an eye and glares at the smiling boy beside him. "Not helping!" Logan whines, clutching the arm rests even tighter once the plane reaches the runway, picking up speed. He's thrown back against the seat as the plane accelerates to speeds Logan doesn't think should be humanly possible. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. "I'm going to die."

"Really, you're not going to die. Calm your nutsack and close your eyes." Logan does as he says, his eyes clamped shut just before the plane takes off. His throat plummets to his stomach, and he feels like he's free falling every time the plane jerks one way or the other. He tries to remember Kendall's earlier advice as he takes deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth. After a few times he feels his heart rate begin to decrease, yet at the same time his ears feel all fuzzy. "Open your eyes." He hears Kendall, although not like he did before. His smooth voice is distant, but Logan complies as he opens his eyes. "Now look out the window."

Logan leans over Kendall's lanky figure to stare down at the ground that already seems like light years away. Houses are the size of legos and cars flying by on the highways look like ants. The sight takes his breath away, or at least he thought it did until he looked straight ahead into the rustic blue skyline, passing by clouds as if they were giant clumps of cotton candy that Logan can touch and feel beneath his fingertips. "Wow."

"Pretty spectacular, right?"

Logan smiles with deep dimples on either cheek, the right side of his lips curling up just a tad more than his left. "It's amazing."

"So you're not afraid anymore." Kendall says it as if it's a statement, not a question.

The brunette shakes his head. His stomach may feel a little queasy, but he just shrugs away the feeling because he's actually flying. "Nah, I think I'm good."

Kendall nods. "Good." He returns to his iPod, pulling back out the device and turning it on. Logan remembers the book in his lap and pulls it out, opening up to chapter one, page two, ready to see how the story unfolds (even if he has read it one too many times).

Maybe twenty minutes pass, more or less before Logan feels Kendall tap tapping away on his shoulder. Finding the will power to detach his attention from the words that litter the page he pulls away and glances to his right. "Yeah?"

Kendall gives him a soft smile, his green eyes alight with innocence. "May I?"

Logan scrunches his eyebrows together, yet grins because Kendall remembers. "Do what?"

Rolling his eyes exasperatedly Kendall moves to lean his head on Logan's shoulder. Logan shudders at the touch, the hairs at the top of Kendall's head tickling Logan's cheek and the skin beneath his chin. "Much better." Kendall utters, barely loud enough for a whisper, nuzzling just a little bit closer into the brunette and letting his eyes droop closed.

"Alright," Logan says under his breath, turning back to his book and getting lost in the adventure once again.

Logan loves the way he can indulge himself in a good book. The words gracefully paint a picture inside his mind worth so much more than a thousand words, maybe even a million. The detail is precise so precise that Logan can imagine himself bound between the pages, as if he were a bystander watching the plot unfold before his eyes. A bomb, a hand grenade, even an asteroid could strike the surface of the earth and Logan still would pay no mind to whatever's happening in his surroundings. It's a great escape from reality without really leaving.

It's not until the stewardess jabs him the arm that he pulls away, slightly dazed. Blinking rapidly a few times, Logan glances up into the fake smile of the woman carting around a beverage tray. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Logan scratches his chin. His throat is a little scratchy, realizing just how thirsty and dehydrated he feels, but he doesn't want to move, for fear of waking the sleeping blond that rested on his shoulder. "I'm okay." Logan smiles, his voice quiet. "Thanks though." The stewardess nods and continues on down the aisle.

Before returning to his story Logan looks to his right. He takes in the plump, parted lips like tulips, the curved, protruding nose, the soft glow of his pale cheeks, and the long, thick eyelashes. Kendall's a completely different person as he sleeps. He's not obscene or cocky; but quiet and peacefully. Silent breaths escape his lips and his eyes twitch every now and then but never open. Logan knows he's dreaming, and he wonders what about. Smiling to himself he lets Kendall continue with his gentle slumber while Logan jumps back into the pages as if he never left.

They stay like this for a while, up until the turbulence racks the plane with full force. Logan jerks in his seat, letting the book fall as he holds for dear life on the arm rests. Kendall awakens next to him, a bit foggy as he rubs his eyes while they adjust to the brightness streaming in through the window. Kendall pulls the cover down. "What's going oooonnnnnn?" He yawns, running a hand through his tousled hair and stopping to scratch the back of his neck.

The pilot sounds, informing the passengers of the slight turbulence. "Slight?" Logan whines, fear gripping his entire body, his muscles locked into a paralysis. "Imgonnadie. Imgonnadie. Imgonnadie." He whispers underneath his breath.

"You're not going to die, my god." Kendall reaches for his hand on the armrest between them in an attempt to pry Logan's fingers free. It does the trick though, as soon as he even so much as touches Logan the boy jerks away from him, like Kendall's a disease or something.

"Don't touch me." Logan mumbles. "Please."

Kendall gives him a bewildered look as he rolls his eyes. "So weird." He mumbles. "Whatever I gotta take a piss." His fingers move to his seatbelt, Logan watching the movement with frightened eyes.

"Dude what are you doing? The fasten seatbelt light is on!"

"Damn you really need to relax. And its fine calm down, natures calling, actually she's screaming." Kendall stands up from his seat and makes an easy attempt of climbing over Logan into the aisle. He heads straight for the bathroom without the stewardess warning him of the seatbelt sign. Logan takes a deep breath once Kendall's gone.

Once Kendall returns Logan is more or less back to normal, grinning widely while Kendall stands in the aisle way, arms crossed over his chest. "That's my seat."

Logan pouts, his brown eyes wide as saucers as he looks up at Kendall. "Come on I've never been on a plane before. I want to enjoy the scenery."

"What's there to enjoy when I'm sitting right next to you?" Kendall smirks playfully as he raises a suggestive eyebrow.

"Yeah, no. And I'm staying put."

"Whatever," Kendall sighs as he takes Logan's old place. He reaches for his iPod in the pouch ahead of Logan, right where he left it before he went to the bathroom. Kendall puts in his headphones and leans his head back against the chair. Not even two minutes later he's complaining. "I'm bored."

He stares at Logan blankly as if he's waiting for the brunette to make a suggestion. "Don't ask me," Logan shrugs finding his own iPod deep inside his carry on and turning it on.

"Let's play a game, I have cards." Kendall pulls a deck out of his own bag and pulls down the tray, already shuffling before Logan even has the chance to protest. "You play poker?"

"I did a little bit of five card poker when I was a kid."

"That's child's play. It's time you learn Texas hold 'em style."

"Okay..." Logan pulls down the tray in front of him as well while Kendall deals out the cards, already explaining the ways of the game and all the rules. By the time the pilot announces they're landing, Logan's won more times than Kendall.

The arrival goes much more smoothly for Logan, only jumping slightly when the plane touches down. He waits impatiently for their time to get off, loving the chance he gets to stretch his legs when he follows Kendall down to the baggage claim. They exchange a few words here and there, but nothing much and as soon as they have their luggage in hand they head out to the street.

"So should we call for a cab or-"

"TAXI!" Kendall shouts out, placing his thumb and forefinger between his lips and letting go a wolf whistle. Before Logan knows it a yellow cab stops in front of them, the driver eager to take their bags. "519 Brooklyn Avenue." Kendall tells the driver once they're seated in back. Logan's not paying much attention. Instead his book is back out, displayed across his lap as he reads.

"You know you're missing the sights," Kendall mumbles.

"They'll still be there tomorrow."

"And so will your book. How about you learn to appreciate your surroundings?"

Logan shakes his head. "I'm almost done okay?"

"Have you even read that book before?" Kendall asks, grabbing Logan's full attention for the first time since they entered the cab.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because maybe if you paid more attention you'd learn a thing or two." Kendall yanks the book from Logan's hands and flips back through the pages. His tongue pokes out of the corners of his lips, he's completely concentrated on whatever he's doing. "Here it is," he clears his voice. "'Stuff your eyes with wonder, he said, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.'" Kendall hands the book back to Logan and points to the quote. "Ray Bradbury is a genius."

Logan's at a loss for words. Without any retaliation he snaps the book shut and turns to look out the window just as the cabbie announces, "We're here."