Author's Note: One-shot number two for the day! Been a while since I've had back-to-back updates like this. Feels good. Written for the Tumblr blogger hotdamncarlospena, because this story never would've happened if she hadn't written that one post. This story is set while the boys are in Minnesota, and you're free to make your own assumptions about whether they boys are or are not a band. Hope you all enjoy it! As always, PLEASE REVIEW!

Disclaimer: Any recognizable names and/or places are the property of their respective owners.

Warnings: Language.

"James, James please," Logan begs, his voice quiet as he takes a step forward. James clenches his jaw, stepping back and fixing his gaze on the ground.

"It's over, Logan," James says, shaking his head.

"Why?" Logan's voice breaks and James closes his eyes, feeling his heart clench.

But they were done. He couldn't do this anymore, wouldn't do this anymore. He didn't love Logan, not the way he used to. In the moment of silence, thunder crashes outside, rain pounding hard against the window.

"You can't just—" Logan takes another step forward but James scoots himself to the side, effectively freeing himself from between Logan's body and the wall.

"Logan, I'm sorry."

"No you're not sorry!" Logan suddenly spurts, wheeling around to face James. "If you were sorry you wouldn't be doing this to me! If you were sorry we wouldn't be breaking up!"

"This isn't easy for me either, Logan!" James shouts, anger rising in his face. "I'm hurting, too!"

"If it's hurts so much than why are you doing it?"

"Because it's over between us, Logan! We both know it! You just have to accept that and move on!"

"I don't want to move on!" Logan shouts. "I want you!"

James opens his mouth to speak but shakes his head, deciding against it.

"What happened to loving each other? What happened to being together forever? Have the past sixteen months been a complete lie—"

"SHUT UP!"

Logan freezes, eyes growing wide and James' outburts. James never shouts, never gets this angry, especially at Logan. James feels his eyes prick with tears but he blinks them back, clenching his fists.

"Stop making this harder on me than it already is!" he says. "We're over and it's done and you need to move on."

With that James turns on his heel, marching to the door.

"Fine! Be a hypocritical, lying bastard!" Logan spits, marching after James. As they pass the kitchen, Logan faintly catches the sound of his cell phone ringing. "Walk out on the only person who's ever cared about you enough to put up with all the shit in your life. Turn your back on the only person left in your life who loves you!"

That makes James pause a moment. His hand on his car door, and he looks up at Logan standing up on the porch. But the moment passes and he steps into his car and out of the rain.

Logan is seething, anger fueling his words and his actions. He doesn't think it's possible that he ever won't feel this way, but then he hears James' motor start, sees him take off down the street, and he feels something inside him break.

James is really leaving.

"Wait, no, stop, James!"

Logan shoots off across the lawn, slipping once on the wet grass but continuing on, his shoes slapping hard against the blacktop as he chases after James. The cars break lights come on as he slows at the stop sign, already at the end of the block, but Logan doesn't stop, keeping running after him, because it's James Godammit, and Logan needs him.

"James come back, please!" Logan slips again, his hand scraping painfully against the loose gravel on the road, but he pushes himself up. He makes it to the end of the street before he stops, chest heaving with cries and the sudden exhertion. Part of him wants to keep going, keeping running after James, but another part, somewhere deep inside, knows James is right.

It's over.

Logan slumps to the ground, burying his face in his arms, gripping at his hair.

"JAMES!"

The house creaks slightly in the wind, rain managing to beat down on all sides simultaneously. The house is silent, empty except for one small teenage boy.

Carlos lays in the middle of the living room floor, helmet square on his head, listening to the sound of his phone ringing in his ear.

"Hey, you've reached Logan Mitchell. I'm out right now, but leave—"

Carlos sighs angrily, setting his phone down beside him, pulling his helmet off and scratching his forehead. He, like always, has been left home alone again. His father, a police officer, was out on patrol; and his mother, an ER nurse, had been called into the hospital a little over an hour ago. Carlos had tired calling Kendall, to see if he wanted to come over and watch the game, but Kendall said he had to stay home with Katie while their mom was away visiting a sick relative. Then he tried James, who didn't pick up. And now there was Logan, who refused to answer his phone, as well.

Carlos was lonely, in the truest sense of the word, and he hated it.

Carlos sits up, his ankle knocking his helmet as he pushes himself to a standing position. He's going to Logan's house, he resolves. Surely Logan was home; Logan was always home on Saturday nights. Unless he had a date with James, but Carlos didn't like thinking about that.

Yes, Logan would be home tonight, and Carlos was going to see him.

He's halfway down the hall, in search of a pair of shoes when he hears it: A loud, angry, choked scream that resounds above the storm,

"JAMES!"

His heart leaps into his throat and stays there, a feeling of dread so pure hitting him that he's just sure he's going to pass out. That was Logan's voice, screaming James' name.

Carlos stumbles back down the stairs, groping at the front door that has suddenly decided it's going to lock from the outside from now on, and he knocks over the umbrella stand by the door in haste to yank it open. He's in the yard now, just outside the porch, squinting as the rain pours into his eyes. He realizes, after a moment, that sight would be much easier if the rain wasn't in his face, so he scrambles back inside, swiping an umbrella off the floor and almost whacking himself in the eye as he tries to pop it open. It's big and black, large enough for two, and he's running down the sidewalk in a frantic search.

"Logan!" Carlos calls, bare feet quickly chilled as they splash through the puddles forming. He hardly makes it more than five sidewalk blocks before he sees a figure crouched in the middle of the street.

"Logan?" Carlos steps off into the road, wiping a bit of water dripping down his face, and kneels by the person. He lowers the umbrella enough so it shields their faces from the rain and touches the person's back. "Logie?"

Logan looks up, eyes red, his body still heaving with cries. His eyes grow wet as he sees Carlos, and he weakly raises his hands, as if he wants to talk, but he simply shakes his head.

"Logan, shh, it's alright," says Carlos, even though everything about the situation is definitley not right. Logan defintely should not be shouting James' name like that, definitely should not be crying in the middle of the street, definitely should not ever have a reason to look this broken. "Logan, come on, you have to get out of the street."

"He left me," Logan says, pulling at his hair again. "He left me."

"I know," Carlos says, even though he doesn't. "You can tell me about it inside the house, but please, you're going to get hurt."

Carlos stands, taking hold of Logan's arm and dragging him up. Logan's almost a dead weight, a crying heap, but Carlos supports him, pulling Logan safely onto the sidewalk and up the lawn towards the house. The front rug is damp, a result of Carlos leaving the door wide open, but it's the least of his worries right now.

Logan is the priority.

"It's gonna be okay, Logan, it's gonna be okay," Carlos soothes. Logan's shivering now, hard, and Carlos pulls him towards his bedroom, feeling himself growing colder by the second.

Logan is quiet as Carlos sits him down on the bed, water dripping from every inch of his body, and rushes around the room trying to find spare clothes for the both of him.

"Logan you have to change," says Carlos, pulling off his own shirt and switching it out for a dry long-sleeve. Logan has his face in his hands, crying weakly into them.

"Logan," he tries again, but his words fall on deaf ears. He sighs, feeling himself growing flustered, and he kneels in front of Logan.

"Logan," he says firmly, taking hold of both of Logan's wrists and pulling them down. Logan looks up, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as if seeing Carlos for the first time. Carlos feels a tug in his heart and he feel his face soften. "Logie, you need to get out of your wet clothes. I got you new ones; put them on, please."

Logan blinks, his cries stifled for the moment, then slowly nods. Carlos gives him a small smile then stands up, turning his back as Logan starts to pull off his few layers of clothing. There's a strong knot of desire in his stomach and he wants to turn around, wants to look because God, he just wants Logan, but he stays put, waiting until Logan gives a small little cough to turn back around.

Logan's wiping his nose, holding a bundle of wet clothes in his hand, and Carlos takes it, walking it over to the bathroom and throwing it all haphazardly over the shower rod. When he's back in the bedroom, Logan's sitting cross legged on the floor, back against the bed, chewing on his thumb. Carlos lets out a sigh then sits beside him, turning his body so he's facing Logan.

"Logie?" he says, and the soft tone of his voice is enough to get Logan teared up again. Logan wipes fiercely at his eyes, chewing on his thumb again when he's finished. Carlos touches Logan's arm and his chin wobbles and he shuts his eyes, shaking his head.

"James left me," Logan whispers, letting out the smallest cry Carlos has ever heard. It tears at his chest, eating at him until there's nothing left.

"Oh, Logan..."

Carlos stretches one arm over Logan and Logan leans into him, reaching one hand to grab at Carlos' arm, biting down on the knuckles of his other hand to try and stifle his cries once more.

Carlos aches, all over, his whole body, and all he wants to do is pull Logan close and hold him tight and kiss him until he can't kiss anymore and whisper in his ear over and over "I love you, Logan I love you, James doesn't but I do," but he can't, because that's not what Logan needs.

And what Logan needs is more important than what Carlos needs.

"He told me he loved me," Logan chokes. "He told me he loved me over and over but it was a lie."

I love you, Carlos thinks. I love you and that will never, ever, ever be a lie.

"How could he do that to me? How could he just leave me after all this time?"

Carlos closes his eyes. "I don't know, Logan."

"Why would he do that? What's wrong with me?"

Carlos' heart skips painfully, because Logan can't think something is wrong with him, he can't, because there's absolutely nothing wrong with Logan and there never been and there never will be.

"No, Logie, don't say that," Carlos says quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why would he leave me?"

Carlos opens his mouth, promptly shutting it again. He has no answer for Logan this time. He just pulls Logan closer, wishing and hoping and praying with everything he has that somehow Logan's pain will all be transferred over to him, to Carlos, because Logan shouldn't ever have to feel this way, shouldn't ever have to hurt like this.

"Don't cry, Logie, please," Carlos begs, his entire body weighed down with pain. How could James do this? How could he hurt Logan? Carlos doesn't think he's ever experienced true anger before this moment, and he's almost scared of how it feels. He pushes it aside, pulling himself back in to Logan. He put his hand on the side of Logan's face, letting his cheek rest against Logan's wet hair. "Please don't cry like this. If James let you go then he's too stupid to deserve something as great as you. If he really loved you he would've meant it when he said it, he would've held onto you when he had the chance. He's not worth you, Logan; he never has been."

Logan's cries quiet. He sniffs. After a moment he pushes himself away from Carlos, wiping his eyes on the borrowed sweatshirt he's wearing. It's Carlos', a well-worn team hoodie from last season's hockey, and Carlos had never realized how beautiful something so old could look until Logan put it on. Logan sets his hands in his lap, looking up at Carlos after a moment. Logan's hair is a disheveled mop and there's blotchy red patches on his pale skin and his lips are dry and to himself and anyone else he looks like a mess. But as he sits there, all Carlos can think about is how beautiful Logan is and how overwhelmed he feels by the urge to push Logan over, to run his hands through Logan's hair until he's mussed up beyond recognition, and to wet Logan's lips with his own. His whole body twitches, as if he's half a thought away from doing so, but then Logan smiles, touching Carlos' knee, and Carlos' freezes.

"Thank you," Logan says quietly, earnestly, his eyes brightening for the first time since they were together tonight. Carlos swallows with the intent to try and speak, when Logan stands, wiping his face one last time and holding his hand out to Carlos. Carlos takes it, feeling his stomach swoop at the feeling of Logan's hand fitting into his own. Once Carlos is up, Logan smiles, and pulls Carlos forward for a hug, and Carlos thinks for a moment that he might just suffocate. His heart's pounding in his chest and his ears and he wouldn't be surprised if Logan could hear it, too. He grips at the fabric on Logan's back and sticks his face in Logan's neck, taking in a deep breath.

If Carlos is ever given the option to pick when he dies, he will pick this moment right here.

Logan gives Carlos an extra little squeeze as he speaks, "You're a good friend, Carlos."

Carlos feels his heart drop to his stomach because he knows to Logan, a friend is all he will ever be.

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