#on the line lumosinlove

[lumosinlove]

Seeking hope and happiness, especially today, and found some in these three...

On The Line

Part Six

~

New York was much as Logan remembered it. This city seemed to do nothing but change, so its fast paced lights and sidewalks always seemed the same. Finn refused to stay anywhere but Manhattan, but if his happy expression as he stood at their suite’s large windows while sipping his coffee resulted in earlier mornings for the both of them, Logan didn’t care.

He poured a cup of his own and joined him at the window. Central Park’s leaves hadn’t turned yet. Early joggers and cyclists were out. People walked their dogs. The world felt awake and happy, and Finn’s arm around his waist was warm.

The qualifiers were over, the first rounds blown through. The semifinals were today. Logan had taken out Winter easily to get past the quarterfinals, and today he’d go up against Luke. Leo had fought hard to get through Black and succeeded, which had upset and surprised everyone—even those who were hoping for another grueling Tremblay-Knut match up in the final.

Logan knew he should be nervous for tonight’s match. He had to focus on Luke, who had a way of sneaking up on people. Instead, all he could think about was the prospect of meeting Leo in the finals.

“He sleeping?” Finn asked.

“Shower,” Logan said. “He was singing last I checked.”

“Singing what?”

“I don’t know.”

Finn scoffed. “Yes, you do.”

“Willow.”

Ah-ha.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but settled his head against Finn’s chest. The park looked so peaceful. The runners knew just where they were going around the circular track of the lake. The dog walkers would soon make their way back home. Logan didn’t know what would happen tonight—if he’d make it, or if he would lose this chance at another title. He wondered when he would get tired of chasing titles. It hadn’t quite happened yet. Something still ignited in his chest when he thought about winning. It was similar to the feeling he got when he thought about those two, prized first kisses he’d received. He liked Finn in the stands. He liked the grueling training Finn designed for him.

“How you feeling?” Finn asked, scratching his fingers through Logan’s hair. “You’re playing good. Smooth. I’m proud.”

Logan nodded, settling more of his weight against him. “I’m good.” He hesitated, but Finn would find out sooner or later. Logan would end up blurting it out in a different moment just like this one. “Nervous.”

“I know,” Finn said. “But we knew this was always a possibility.”

“But now it’s close. And real.”

“Oh, you’re so sure you’re going to take Luke.” When Logan just looked at him, Finn laughed. “Yeah, okay, killer.”

“I don’t want to hurt Le.”

Finn stayed quiet for a moment. Logan closed his eyes, letting him mess with his hair, rub his neck, do anything he wanted while he thought. One time he accidentally started doing it when a few reporters caught up with them around the practice courts, and there hadn’t been a camera there but they had sure gotten a few laughs.

“You’re not hurting anyone, Lo. You’re doing your job. Leo will be in the game longer than you. He’s talented and driven and younger.” Finn looked down at him. “I think the only thing that would hurt him is you…like, going easy on him or something.”

Logan scoffed. “Going easy?”

“Not that you would. God knows you’re too stubborn for that.”

Logan let his eyes unfocus, filled only with the green and brown smudges of the park far below. A siren wailed somewhere—a sound he always associated with the beginning of a grueling hardcourt season. He already knew Finn would be setting up multiple massage appointments for him—and thought about asking Finn to do it himself like he sometimes did.

“I want to beat him. That’s there, just like in practice,” Logan said carefully. “I just… I need a way to separate it.” Logan ran his hand down Finn’s arm until he reached his wrist. He traced over the taut tendons there from holding his coffee. “I don’t remember how I did it with you. I just—I need it to be about the game and not about us because…”

Finn’s fingers paused from messing with his hair. His thumb brushed Logan’s eyebrow, and Logan took the cue and looked up at him.

“Because I love him,” Logan whispered.

A new sort of flame caught behind Finn’s eyes. His laugh was soft, satiny, and he cupped Logan’s chin in light fingertips.

“Ouais,” Logan whispered against Finn’s mouth. “Finn, I do, I do…” Finn was hushing him, smiling, nodding, then kissing him.

“Shower’s free,” Leo’s voice said.

Logan looked to see him with a towel around his waist and another in his hands, drying off his hair roughly. The droplets of water on his chest shone as brightly as the gold chain around his neck.

“I mean,” Leo continued, grinning. “Technically, it was free while I was in it, too. If we’re covering all our bases here.”

“I have to shower,” Finn said, setting his coffee down. “So, why are you toweling off?”

Leo laughed and threw the towel in a perfect straight snap to Finn’s chest.

Finn just grinned, grabbing his face for a sloppy kiss as he passed by. He turned. “Lo, eat a light breakfast and stretch now so we can get some hitting in early. And Le…” He stopped in his tracks, halfway through the bathroom doorway before he retraced his steps and took Leo around the waist for a slower, softer kiss. It left his shirt damp. He hooked a finger in Leo’s gold chain. “See you for lunch?”

Logan still managed to forget Leo wasn’t coming down to the courts with him more often than not. He’d grown so used to spending every single moment together. Seeing him across the practice courts, alone, and tall, and beautiful, felt so, so strange. Sometimes Finn had to stop Logan from crossing the lines at the sound of Leo’s coach’s harsh barks at him…Sometimes Logan had to stop Finn.

Leo bit his lip, shoulders falling some, and shook his head. “Probably not.”

Logan frowned. He took it all back. This was the hardest part. The days where they hardly saw each other. “When?”

“I’ll stick around after I play Lupin,” Leo said, offering a smile as he wiped at the water he’d gotten on Finn’s shirt. “Watch you kick Luke’s ass.”

Logan brightened. “You will?” What if you lose? There was no way Leo’s team would want him out at Logan’s match for the camera to find if he lost.

“Fuck ‘em,” Leo said, reading his mind, then looked at Finn. “But I probably shouldn’t sit with you.”

Finn’s mouth pulled to the side unhappily, but he nodded. “I know…All right, well, have a late dinner with us?”

“Gotta ask coach,” Leo said. “But I want to. Will you text me where you guys end up?”

Logan set his coffee down too, mostly untouched. “Le, we won’t leave without you. Tell your team your having dinner with—with friends, if you have to.”

“They can’t deny you us.” Finn brushed his knuckles down Leo’s cheek. “We’re yours.”

“Sweetheart…” Leo caught Finn’s hand and kissed it. “You are.”

But Leo sighed, and it sounded so heavy and exhausted that Logan wanted to take them both back to his house, back to the sun and the pool, and the open kitchen that wouldn’t ever feel the same without Leo’s happy humming in it.

Logan crossed the room and fit into Leo’s other side. He settled his palm on his neck, making Leo look at him. I love you. I love you.

“I’ll try,” Leo said. He put his hand over Logan’s. “You know I’ll try.”

~

Leo won his match. Logan caught the end of it on the warm-up room televisions while rolling out his back on the mats. Luke was on the other side of the room. Maybe they would have been watching together, had they not been about to play, but Logan was glad for the quiet. Finn was off somewhere preparing Logan’s drinks and fruit. He’d started leaving little messages on the insides of bottle caps and the back of Logan’s plastic forks. Love you. The camera had already caught one that said you’re hot and so he’d been sticking to love. Logan had realized that the camera caught it and had shown it on the big screen once the crowd laughed, so he’d made a point of tapping it, eyes on the camera, and pointing to himself. That had won him big media points. One headline had even read Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day.

Leo was doing well. He looked strong and energetic, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet while he waited for a serve. Logan paused, letting himself rest with his neck on the roller as he took him in. He looked devastating in the outfit his sponsors had chosen. All black, all the way to the headband tied around his golden hair.

His returns were like water. He hit a backhand, forehand, backhand, before whipping the ball down the line so perfectly that Logan had to inhale and close his eyes, pushing the roller from his neck to shoulders. The perfect dig into his sore muscles couldn’t come close to Leo’s hands on him, especially with Finn’s dark eyes watching the two of them over Leo’s shoulder.

“I know what you’re think-ing a-bout,” Finn’s sing-song voice came.

Logan opened his eyes to see Finn standing there. He held a clear cup of fruit, and three water bottles. One was clear, untouched. The other was orange, filled with vitamin C, the third pink with hydration powder.

“Ha,” Finn said. He set the bottles down as he crouched by Logan’s side. “I was right, I can tell.”

Logan pushed himself up to sit. “You were right.”

“Actually. You were,” Finn said. He twisted a bottle cap off and flashed its reverse at him.

I <3 him 2

~

From the court, Logan found Leo in in the crowd easily, smiling and accepting congratulations for his win. He had shed the black, sponsored clothes. For Logan, he was sunny in white and light blue. Only a small smile and a slight flutter of his fingers let Logan know Leo had seen him, too. Hi, it might have said. Or, good luck.

When Logan looked to Finn, Finn flashed him a thumbs up and patted a hand over his chest. You got this. Love ya.

Logan liked all of his and Finn’s secret messages to each other while he was on court. He wanted more of that with Leo. He wanted to be able to know for sure what ever inch of Leo meant. Every movement. He wanted Leo to know in turn that he had seen him, that he—

“Time violation,” came the umpire’s voice.

Logan blinked. Around him the audience was murmuring. He jerked his head up to the chair. The umpire was looking at him impatiently. He didn’t remember coming to stand at the baseline, but he found himself holding the ball close to his racket like he was about to bring it up for a serve. How long had he been standing that way? He looked at Finn, who was now standing up and had concern written all over his face. Lo?

Leo. Logan found him in the crowd again. Sweet-eyed. Just as concerned. Nodding at him. What did that mean? I know? It’s okay? I understand? You got this?

Logan bounced the ball, once, twice, caught a glimpse of Luke’s taken off-guard face, and served. Ace. No one could touch that shot from him. Maybe Leo could.

Leo definitely could. With his reach, with his step, with his glorious elegance. Logan narrowed in again. This was his game. His war within as his body fought to reach the finals—even while his mind dreaded playing Leo. And longed for it.

Luke put up a fight, but he simply wasn’t as quick. Logan’s win came to him easily in the third set, off a slice that cut the ball to drop right over the net.

“Game, set, match, Tremblay,” echoed through the stadium.

Luke met him at the net, clasping his hand and slapping him on the back.

“Nice one. You good?” Look said in his ear.

“I’m in love,” Logan said.

Luke pulled back, giving him a look, then laughed. “Lucky you, then, Tremblay.”

~

Finn was waiting for him in the tunnel, as usual. Instead of the usual hard hug—which Logan had been looking forward to—he put oh-so gentle hands to Logan’s face, looking between his eyes for signs of harm.

“You okay?” he asked softly. “What happened with that time violation? You just…You just stood there for a second, I thought you were gonna pass out on me or something.”

Logan shook his head. “Where’s Leo?” Then, surprising himself, he laughed. He took Finn’s face in his hands, a mirror, and kissed him hard. “Where is he?”

“I…” Finn laughed, too, shaking his head. “I don’t know, maybe waiting for the car if he got away—”

Logan wrapped his arms tightly around Finn’s neck. He pressed a kiss to Finn’s cheek. “I love you, mon Rouge. Mon coeur, lumière, éternité…”

Finn’s hands pressed into his back. “I love you. God, I love you, too, but Lo, just say you’re good. Say it to me.”

“I am,” Logan said, tucking his face into his neck. “I am.”

Logan tried not to appear as insane as he felt when he was stopped to sign autographs. He was probably full on grinning in photos with fans more than he had in his entire career. Finn stood a step apart, like a watchful bodyguard. He signed a few autographs and took a few pictures of his own. He placed a hand low on Logan’s back and guided him out of the arena towards where the car would be waiting.

And there he was. Logan felt like some string had been cut then refastened. All the parts of him yearning to get to Leo in that crowd, standing frozen on that court, tethered themselves to the golden boy waiting at the curb.

He would have kissed him right there. He would have willed the world’s attention their way—but first them. Just them. First, this had to be theirs.

He didn’t have to call out Leo’s name. He heard them coming and turned. The grin he gave Logan was filled with the win he himself had under his belt.

He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Late dinner, yeah? Tastes fifty times better after a win.” When Logan got close, Leo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned in, away from the cameras. “Good game, Lo. You all right?”

Logan nodded and yanked open the door of the car. He guided Leo through, then Finn, who went with a wink.

The car was dark, darker than the night was outside with its people and camera lights. The door shut and took the noise with it. Finn and Leo sat in the seats opposite Logan. There was a driver, Finn was giving him a restaurant name, but Logan didn’t care. Leo had a hand on Finn’s thigh, accepting a kiss.

“He’ll say he’s fine, but you tell me,” Leo said. “Is he okay? On the court, I thought—”

Logan leaned across the pristine black carpet of the car. He steadied himself on the smooth leather seat with one hand, his other high on Leo’s thigh, and kissed Leo’s surprised mouth.

“Okay,” Leo mumbled, steadying Logan with two hands on his waist. “Moving car? Seatbelts?”

“If you’re in the stands, I want you in my box,” Logan said. “If I’m in the stands, I want to be in your box.” He feathered lighter kisses up Leo’s cheek. “I want to sit next to Finn. I want you to be able to hear us when you go for a towel. I want to be able to hear you both.”

Leo sent Finn a look through the kisses, smiling. “Okay…”

“I don’t care what your team thinks. I don’t care if they think I’m listening, or Finn’s plotting and stealing.” Logan pulled back to look down at him. “If they think I would use you in that way, they’re stupid.”

“You and adrenaline are quite the cocktail,” Leo said, but he was blushing.

Logan let himself fall back into his own seat. “And you look perfect in black.”

“A crazy cocktail, but he speaks the truth.” Finn held out a water bottle to Logan. “Drink that whole thing. Even the dregs, I’m watching you, Tremblay.”

Logan took the bottle, shaking up the hydration powder inside. “What do I get if I do?”

Finn just smiled. He was unwrapping silver foil from a piece of blue peppermint gum gum and he popped it into his mouth. “I’ll blow you in the restaurant bathroom.”

Logan blinked. “Really?”

Finn reached forward and flicked him on the forehead.

They reached Manhattan again quickly enough, and curled into the twisting streets of the West Village. Finn perked up, happy to be on familiar ground and popped the car door.

“After you,” Leo said, just as Logan motioned for him to go first. “Oh—ha. Lo, go.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “You.”

“Not that this isn’t adorable, but…” Finn leaned down. “If I’m hungry, you guys must be starving.” He held out his hand to Leo. “Guess what they have here?”

Leo put his hand in Finn’s. “What?”

“Deconstructed chocolate cake,” Finn said, helping him out.

“What the fuck is that?” Logan asked, following.

“Sugar. You’ll love it.”

Logan sent Leo a look as Finn jogged ahead and disappeared between large, wooden doors. Inside, Logan caught a glimpse of windows lined with candles. Leo would look gorgeous.

“That was pretty sweet back there,” Leo said. He took his hand as they walked. “You sure you’re all right?”

“I was fine on the court,” Logan said, pulling the door open. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Leo asked.

The candlelight was already hitting him, and Logan thought about telling him right there in this doorway with Finn and a—blushing—waiter looking expectantly at them.

“Just thinking,” Logan said. “All good things.”

“Um,” the waiter tucked her hair behind her ear. “This way.”

“Thanks so much,” Finn beamed.

“Classic O’Hara,” Leo whispered. He moved Logan’s hand from his left to his right and placed his hand low on Logan’s back. “But we both won today. Who’s he gonna let taste the wine?”

Logan laughed. “It’s going to be you.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling I have.”

~

It didn’t feel like a day off. Not without Leo there. The two female finalists were playing their match today, and at dinner Logan had been relieved at the idea that he’d have a whole day off with Leo before they had to go against each other—until Leo told them his coach wanted him to stay away. 

He woke up earlier than usual and in a too empty room. Finn, warm and solid against his back—but no Leo. He wasn’t sure why he was even awake until he felt the next stroke of fingers through his hair, absentminded and soft. It would put him straight back to sleep soon.

“Rouge,” Logan mumbled. His voice wasn’t quite there yet, coming out a gravely sort of whisper.

“Sorry,” Finn whispered back. “I was just looking at you. Go back to sleep.”

Logan pushed back against him. “I’m turned away.”

“I was looking at the rest of you.”

The sheets were near his hips now that he thought about it. Finn’s hand ran down the dip of his ribs and waist.

Logan settled into the feeling, but when Finn’s fingers moved back to his hair, he sighed and rolled onto his back, getting a hand under Finn’s head to pull him onto his chest. He closed his eyes, pressed five hard kisses to Finn’s temple, and felt Finn let out a long sigh.

“What’s up?” Logan asked.

“Leo. If there was any day he should have been able to be with us, it was today, when we have nothing going on, and the training is light because you play tomorrow.” Finn’s fingers began drumming on his chest, restless. A rare show of nerves. “He should be here right now.”

Logan could see Finn in Nice. In his library nook for the first time. Head in his hands, finally allowing himself to cry away an old life to let the new one in. This, he thought, was a version of it. Worries, brimming over because they had not been let out.

He passed his fingers through Finn’s hair. Kissed his temple and his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have talked to his team—”

“Non,” Logan said. “They’re angry people. I think. That wouldn’t have helped. But, hey. Look at me.”

Finn did. Sleepy brown eyes. He traced a thumb under one lower set of fair eyelashes. There was lilac there.

“No more worrying,” Logan whispered. He brushed his mouth, feather-light, over the delicate skin just under Finn’s eye.

“I’m not worried—no, I am.”

“It gets like this when you’re stressed.” Logan kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s not good for you.”

Finn sighed and let Logan press him back into the pillows to be kissed. His jaw. His neck. “He’s not happy. I mean, he’s happy with us. But in the game. In this life. He used to be happier. At the Wimbledon Ball. He was happier.”

“How do you know? We weren’t seeing a lot of him then.” Logan’s mouth found the valley between his collarbones. Was there anything better than this? It woke him up like coffee, and settled him down like nothing else. Sometimes, panicking on the court, he pictured this. Soft and unhurried. Usually, Leo was there for him to kiss, too. “Let’s get dressed. Then call him. Tell him he has to have breakfast with us.”

Finn smiled. “What, or else?”

“Or else I…” Logan tried to think of something good, but honestly he wasn’t meant to be awake this early. He pressed his face into Finn’s neck, his hand to his cheek. He inhaled, kissed him there, then pulled back and kissed him properly. “I love him.”

Finn smiled. “I love him, too.”

It rang. Rang and rang.

“Hey, it’s Leo, sorry I missed you!”

Again. Logan leaned his forehead against the warm window pane, standing in a square of sun coming into their room.

“Hey, it’s Leo, sorry I missed you!”

“Fuck.” Logan turned, waiting for the beep.

Finn watched his face as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. His skin was still slightly damp from his shower and Logan, worried as he was, enjoyed the way it stuck to his chest.

“Hi, Le,” Logan said. “It’s us. Just wondering where you are…”

“Missing you,” Finn mumbled, bending down to lace up his shoes.

“We miss you, we are going to get breakfast at the place. Okay. Lo—Okay, cool.” Finn’s head snapped up with an open-mouthed smile. Logan flushed. “Okay, come find us, or we’ll find you.”

He hung up fast, staring at his phone. Finn crossed the room, taking Logan’s face in his hands.

“You almost said—” he began to say, laughing through the words.

Logan pushed up on his toes and kissed him silent. He pulled back, knowing his eyes were wide, and pressed three fingers to Finn’s mouth. “Quiet.”

Finn gave his chin a little jerk and took Logan’s fingers in his mouth, smiling around the gentle bite. Logan rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away.

“C’mere, lover.” Finn wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “I’ve got the room key. I’m taking you to a big breakfast full of eggs, ham, and calling Leo every five minutes.”

~

Finn got restless again and they had barely taken a sip of their coffees. Logan could tell. What they had started calling “the” place was a small coffee shop that Finn knew. It made generous omelettes with sides of potatoes and greens. Spicy beans and fried eggs with tortillas—Leo’s favorite. Logan had stared at it at the menu, wondering if ordering it would make him arrive faster.

A plate with a steaming chocolate croissant appeared in front of him, and Finn pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“There you go, sweetheart.” Finn slid into his seat. “I ordered for us. But I didn’t want to sit here with you while you’re hangry and drinking your coffee-milk, so…”

Logan shoved him, but Finn just pulled their chairs together and took out his phone. Logan ripped off a piece of the croissant and watched Finn find Leo’s contact. When he held it up to his ear, Logan watched Finn’s face. Hopeful. He caught Logan’s eye and put a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing.

“Hi,” Finn said, but the sigh in his voice told Logan no one had answered. “Hey, Sunshine. Us again. We’re here. Just…wondering where you are.” Finn looked at Logan, mouth pulling to the side. “Let us know.” He ran a thumb over Logan’s bottom lip. “Okay. Okay, love you, bye.”

Finn set his phone down, hand falling down to Logan’s lower back. “Maybe he’s sleeping and we’re assholes trying to wake him up.”

“It’s almost eleven.”

“Yeah…” Finn picked up the water pitcher on the table and filled Logan’s glass. Logan picked it up again and filled Finn’s.

“What did you order?”

“Got us the ham and tomato omelettes. Sound good?”

“Ouais. Thanks.”

They quieted, then laughed a little at each other when they realized they were both waiting for the phone to ring.

Finn was worrying the straw of his iced coffee when he set the cup down hard. “Oh my God.”

“Hm?” Logan got to the chocolatey center of the croissant and carefully bit so he got enough chocolate and enough pastry.

“Logan…”

Logan raised his eyebrows at his full name from Finn’s mouth. “Finn…” He mimicked his tone, but got serious when Finn put both of his hands in his hair, gripping. “Finn. Quoi?”

“I just—oh my God.”

“What?”

“I just…” Finn’s hands moved over his mouth. “Did I?”

Logan set the pastry down. “Did you what? Did you fucking what?”

He looked so panicked that Logan started looking around, trying to figure out the problem. But Finn grabbed his hand, pulling his attention back to him.

“At the end of the message, I said…” Finn whispered. “I said love you.”

Logan blinked. “What?”

They both stared down at Finn’s phone and its dark screen.

“Shit,” Logan said. “Wait, ouais. You—you did. Finn.”

Finn melted, folding his head into his arms and slumping on the table.

Logan laughed, but he wasn’t sure if it was actually funny. That wasn’t how he’d planned for Leo to know. Of all the opportunities they’d had. Dinners and late nights and soft afternoons.

“And after you made fun of me for almost saying it.”

“Shut up,” Finn mumbled into his arms. When he lifted his head, his face was flushed. “It just slipped out. I—shit. I was looking at you and your stupid chocolate, and then I saw the hot sauce on the table and I was thinking about him and the amount he puts on his fucking eggs—”

“You said okay, love you, bye.”

“I know that!”

“Two omelettes?”

They both looked up at the waiter, who took a step back—probably at the panicked look in their eyes.

“Um,” he said. “No? Not omelettes?”

“No, no,” Finn said. “I mean, yes, omelettes. Thank you so much.”

The man set the plates down with a look on his face like he wanted to get out of there. It probably had something to do with the way Finn still had his head in his hands.

Logan rubbed a hand down his back. “It’s fine. Baby, it’s fine. We do love him.”

“And he finds out on a voicemail?” Finn’s voice came out muffled through his hands. “So bad. Jesus.”

“Maybe he’s not gonna listen?”

“Maybe.” For a moment, Finn sounded almost placated, but he jerked his head up. “No phone.”

Logan nudged his plate at him. “Eat something.”

Finn turned his body towards him in his chair. “You’re playing tomorrow.”

“Finn, what the fuck?”

“I want you eating and drinking and resting.”

“Finn, what…” He gestured to his food. “Ouais. What does this look like?”

“When do you not have your phone?”

“When I’m…” Logan trailed off, finally understanding. “Non. That would be insane.”

Finn stood, gesturing to the waiter. “Let’s get this to go.”

They arrived at the practice courts in the heat of the day. Logan heard Leo before he saw him. He heard him like he’d heard him every day during those perfect months at his house. Leo had a rhythm all his own. His footwork. Quick shuffles, short squeaks of his sneakers on the hard court.

But Logan should not have been able to hear it right then. Not less than twenty hours before the U.S. Open final.

“Fuck,” Finn said, pushing a fence open. “He’s on the court.”

“Again!” they heard Leo’s coach shout.

“Fuck,” Finn cursed. “I’m gonna kill that guy.”

Logan watched him storm towards the next fence, past another player practicing with a hitter—who missed his shot when he saw Finn.

“Wait,” Logan called. “Rouge!”

Finn stopped, but barely. Every muscle in his body strained towards Leo’s court just ahead. Logan could see him now, just barely through netting and bushes and low court walls. Logan caught glimpses of blond hair as he jogged towards Finn.

“What?” Finn asked. “He shouldn’t be out there.”

Logan put his hands on his shoulders. “Stop. I know. But stop.”

Leo was on the baseline. His coach stood beside him, talking fast while Leo’s chest heaved.

“Let me go alone,” Logan said. “If it’s you, his team will get defensive. If it’s me, it’s not their business. It’s player to player.”

Finn looked conflicted. “I…” He looked towards Leo, too. “He shouldn’t be out there.”

“I know.”

“I do love him.”

“I know,” Logan said softly. “Look. I’ll get him in the locker room. You’ll be waiting there. Let me.”

He left Finn, all the while sure he would break and follow him. But he didn’t. Logan made it past another court and opened the chain-fence door into the sidelines of Leo’s. Leo was mid-rally, so his coach saw him first. The man scowled. Logan scowled back.

Leo’s hitter sent the ball into the net.

“Leo,” the coach called. Leo looked at him as he rolled out one of his ankles gingerly. A sharp nod directed his attention to Logan and, despite everything, the heat and how tired he obviously was, a smile broke over Leo’s face and jogged over.

“Hi,” Leo said, but held out his hand. “I want to, but don’t hug me.” He jerked his head subtly towards his team. “They already think I’m going to be soft on you tomorrow and I don’t…” Leo swallowed. He let out a breath. “Anyway. Hi. What are you doing here?”

Logan’s whole chest hurt. “What about I kiss you instead?”

That, at least, made Leo smile. One blue eye squinted shut against the sun. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Logan fired back.

He squirted Logan lightly with his water bottle. “You spying on me, Tremblay?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Logan said.

“That’s cute. A little desperate, but cute.”

“Leo.”

“I’m training,” Leo said. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m going up against Logan Tremblay tomorrow. He’s pretty good.”

“Which is why you should be resting.”

Leo was quiet for a moment, then he looked around. “So, where’s Finn freaking out right now?”

Logan bit the inside of his cheek and looked towards the locker room building.

“You two are sweet, you know that?” Leo reached out and briefly stroked a knuckle down the center of Logan’s chest. “Look, I’m almost finished here. Then I’ll find you. I know how to take care of myself. Finn knows that, too, or he should.”

“He actually—We actually need to talk to you about something else.”

Leo frowned. “Oh?”

“Just—” Logan itched to take his hand. “Come? Please? Just for a moment.”

Leo still looked concerned, but he nodded. “Okay. Hold on.”

His coach had his arms crossed. His narrow eyes tracked Leo as he came towards him. The argument was hushed and intense. It ended with Leo grabbing his bags with an angry sort of strength. Logan knew how heavy those bags got. Leo swung them onto his shoulders like they were nothing, just beautiful baby blue and white leather there to make his hair turn even more golden.

When he reached Logan again, he looked more tired than before.

“Give me,” Logan said. Leo didn’t protest when Logan took his racket bag from him and shouldered it himself.

“You’re not supposed to be seen with Adidas.”

“They can kiss my ass.”

“Lo—”

“Then they can explain why they have a problem with me helping my boyfriend.”

Leo lightened up at those words like he always did. As they ducked away from the court, he wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders and kissed him. Logan wanted to whisper the phrase into his skin until it stayed with him forever, kept in that sweet freckle just under his chin.

Finn was pacing when they walked in, and then he was rushing over, holding Leo’s shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing out there in the sun? You’ve got a match tomorrow.”

“Backhand,” Leo said. He glanced at Logan. “Mine’s not as good. Coach wants…” He sighed. Annoyance was all over him. Stress. Logan hated it. He wanted to smooth it all away with his fingers, wanted to touch every inch of him to make sure it wasn’t there. “I don’t know what he wants. Oh. By the way…” He leaned forward and planted a soft, quick kiss to Finn’s worried mouth. “Hi.”

Finn pulled him in, leaving one arm open for Logan.

“I’m so sweaty, sorry,” Leo said.

Logan pushed his nose into his chest. Okay, love you, bye.

“Missed you this morning,” Finn said. “We thought…We thought we’d get to…”

There were a million ways Logan would have finished that sentence. Sleep in, breakfast, kiss, lounge, shower, read, talk, sex, doze, stretch, breathe.

“So did I,” Leo sighed. Logan felt his fingers in his hair, a kiss pressed to his forehead and held there. “Fuck. So did I.”

“Do you have your phone?” Finn asked. “With you?”

“It’s in my bag.” Leo arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Finn just stared at him, but Logan saw each thought pass in his face as if he’d said it.

Leo saw it, too, though he didn’t know enough to understand and laughed instead, unsure. “What the hell is up with you two?”

“We’re in a locker room,” Finn whispered to Logan.

Leo looked between them. “O’Hara, what is happening?”

“I cannot do this in a locker room.”

“Do what?”

Finn groaned, then laughed, then sat down on a bench and covered his face. “I left you a voicemail today. Ugh. Well. We left you a few.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo began but Finn shook his head.

“No, no. It’s okay. It’s just—the last one I left…” His hands dragged down his face lightly, making his brown eyes look big and sad. “Ugh. Leo. I’m such an idiot.”

Leo sat down beside him, hand on Finn’s knee. “Finn…You’re not. You’re not an idiot.” He glanced up at Logan, all concerned and blue, sweat still dripping down from the ends of his hair. “The last one you left…what?”

Finn straightened. He set his hand over Leo’s. Then he held it in both and brought his knuckles to his mouth.

“When I was hanging up, I told you that I loved you,” Finn said. “And I do.”

Logan wanted to hear him say it again, in that soft way. He sank onto the bench on Leo’s other side, the very same words burning in his chest. He put his mouth to the warm fabric of Leo’s t-shirt shoulder, curling a hand around his bicep. There was a fine tremor to Leo’s muscles. Logan didn’t know if he was tired, or if it was the words, but Leo was shaking, just a little.

Logan couldn’t help it. Where he was tucked against Leo’s shoulder, he smiled. “Leo…”

The laugh jostled Logan first, and then it sounded, light and a little tearful, from Leo’s mouth. He grabbed for Finn’s shoulder, pulling him in for something that was more a smile than a kiss.

“You just blurted that out, huh?” Leo cupped the back of Finn’s neck. “Jesus, O’Hara, you had me so worried there.”

“I love you,” Finn said. “I—Logan…”

Leo laughed louder, freer, as Logan gripped the back of his t-shirt until Leo turned.

Logan swiped a thumb over Leo’s full bottom lip. He just wanted to touch that smile. He kissed him, hard, tasting the sweat from his practice.

“I love you,” Logan whispered. “I was supposed to say it first, I love you.”

“Supposed to?” Finn spluttered.

“Shh,” Logan said into Leo’s mouth. “Look how happy he is, I can taste it.”

“I love you, too,” Leo said. He pressed his nose against Logan’s cheek, then turned back to Finn. “Oh God, I love you, too.”

Logan watched them kiss. Laugh. Dissolve into each other—Finn’s chin on Leo’s shoulder, eyes closed, fingers scratching through the back of his hair. Logan put a hand on Leo’s back and felt his muscles relax. All the tension from the court earlier bled away. And tomorrow…Tomorrow’s match felt very far away.

“Let’s go,” Leo said. “I’m sweaty and hot and in love.”

“Wow, speaking Logan’s language,” Finn said.

Leo laughed, but when he stood he sent an almost nervous glance towards the door. “Quick. Before anyone tries to pull me back out there.”

“You shouldn’t have been out there in the first place,” Finn said.

Leo sighed with a smile. “Finn.”

Finn stood, hands up in surrender. “Let’s get out of here.”

~

Logan could relax because it was the three of them. He was finishing off a plate of pasta and chicken balanced on his thighs. Finn sat with his computer perched on the arm of the couch with Logan’s feet in his lap. One thumb dug perfectly into Logan’s arch. Leo was laying on the ground, stretching out his back and—well. Smiling the whole time.

“I keep thinking about the Wimbledon Ball,” Leo said.

“You scolded me for leading,” Logan said.

“I didn’t scold,” Leo laughed. “I wanted you to know you could trust me.”

Logan sat up and set his plate down on the hotel’s coffee table. He pulled his feet from Finn’s lap—Finn wrapped a hand around his ankle and held on long enough for Logan to lean in and kiss him. Logan pressed down against Finn as that hand smoothed up his calve, behind his knee. Up his thigh, resting on his ass for a moment before settling on his lower back to press them together harder.

Logan smiled against Finn’s mouth, then slipped out of his hold. He made his way to where Leo lay on his back and stood over him, one foot pressed against each of his hips.

“Trust you?” he repeated.

Leo stretched his arms over his head, grinning. He was wearing Finn’s sweatshirt. He’d caught the worn cuffs in his hands and it pulled the hem halfway up his chest. Logan wanted to put his teeth on the cut of his waist, he really did.

“Mhm,” Leo said. “You didn’t. You thought I was trying to get inside your head.”

“You were.” Logan narrowed his eyes. “You just said so—trying to get me to trust you.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Fine. Fine. But you thought I was trying to beat you. And I wasn’t.” He pulled his arms down. Like Finn, his palms found the back of Logan’s ankles. Then his calves. Then the back of his thighs. Only, Leo pulled gently and Logan lowered himself into straddling his hips. Leo smiled and pushed down on his thighs until Logan let his full weight go. “I wasn’t trying to beat you. I was trying to win you.”

A soft laugh came from the couch. “I knew something had to be up when you blatantly asked to dance with my boyfriend.”

“Would have asked you, too,” Leo said, eyes trained on Logan’s as Logan lowered himself down onto his forearms. They were nose to nose now. “A boy can only find so many excuses in one night.”

“And what are you gonna try to do tomorrow?” Logan asked.

“Oh,” Leo whispered. He picked his head up just enough to capture Logan’s bottom lip gently between his teeth—a pull and release that sent Logan’s hips rocking down against him. “Beat you.”

“Please find the bed,” Finn said absentmindedly. His eyes were on his laptop, and he’d put his glasses on. “Your knees get enough stress as it is. And don’t go crazy. I need you rested. And not sore.” Finn looked over at them and Logan wondered if he knew how red his ears were. “Both of you.”

“I’ll find a bed, if you promise to find us when you’re done with that computer,” Leo shot back.

Finn slapped the laptop shut. “What computer?”

~

Coin toss. They weren’t even playing yet and Logan was already sweating with the sun at his back.

“Mr. Tremblay?” the Umpire presented him with the coin. “You will choose?”

“Heads,” Logan said.

“Very well. Heads. Mr. Knut, you will be tails.”

Logan was trying not to look at Leo too hard, but it was difficult. Every time they caught each other’s eye, they both had to suppress a smile. There was joy in this. Logan dreaded to win and dreaded to lose, but there was joy. Leo across from him. The game he loved. Leo, being his.

The coin flashed in the sun as it got tossed up. It rattled, looping around on its edges for a moment before settling between their feet.

“Tails.” The Umpire looked at Leo. “Mr. Knut, you will…”

“Serve first,” Leo said.

“Knut, first service. Thank you, gentlemen.”

Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes. If Leo thought he was going to get to take a few points off of Logan with that massive serve of his, he was wrong.

It seemed to take ages for the crowd to settle down. New York was always loud, but they were more riled by the idea of of Leo and Logan on the court once again. Logan leaned down to re-tie his shoes and tried to steady his breathing. He turned to look up at Finn, who had a baseball cap on—one of Logan’s sponsors—and was leaning forward on his elbows. He was rubbing his palms together, his eyes on Leo. When he noticed Logan looking, he dropped a wink.

Logan rose and gave his racket a spin against his palm. He bounced twice, then adjusted his feet into a poised stance.

Leo had his ball pressed against his racket, ready. He looked back at Logan once before lowering his gaze to his racket.

“Leo Knut to serve,” the umpire’s voice echoed over the chatter. “Play.”

Leo won the first set. He was gorgeous and lean, and their rallies lasted minute after minute after minute until the crowd was gasping after each stroke. Quite the even match, they were called. Too even, Logan thought. Everywhere else, they would give each other anything the other could possibly want. But not here.

Here, Logan’s t-shirt was soaked in sweat within thirty minutes, and it wasn’t from the heat. They were running each other hard. Leo’s stride equaled Logan’s speed, and his height, Logan’s strength. Logan was frustrated, sure. But he was also having fun. Leo hit a drop shot that had Logan sprinting to the front of the net, only to miss it by its backspin. Leo grinned at him when Logan jokingly hit his palm against his racket in applause. For a moment, it felt like they were back at his house in one of the faux matches Finn set them to.

But it only took three rallies into the second set for Logan to see that something was wrong.

Leo stopped moving well. He wasn’t even walking right. He seemed stiff, and then at changeovers, he spent long seconds with his face hidden in a cold towel.

On Logan’s next break before his serve, he turned away from Leo, wiping his face and wrists with his towel as he looked up at Finn. Finn tapped his thigh and squeezed his hand into a fist. Muscle cramps.

Logan winced, but part of him was relieved. Those were painful, but at least they were short-lived. He made his way back to the baseline and tested out a ball with a few bounces before discarding it and tossing it back towards the ball boy. He glanced up at Leo as he withdrew the second ball from his pocket. He was bringing his knees up to his waist, trying to get the blood flowing. Logan bounced the second ball. His serve clock was winding down and Leo didn’t look ready for his serve. Not at all.

Logan let out a breath, tossed the ball up, and brought his serve down. Ace. Leo barely got his hand back properly. Leo looked behind him, up at his box, and motioned something that Logan couldn’t make out, but what he figured was that he wanted to call for a trainer at the next change-over.

“Ah-ah,” came from Leo’s box. A scolding, horrible sound. Leo’s coach gave his head a sharp shake and he pointed towards the court. Don’t, it seemed to mean.

Finn was standing up in Logan’s box when he looked, his arms crossed. Beside him, Noelle pulled him back into his seat.

He took one more game off of Leo before he couldn’t take it anymore—watching the pained way he walked and the set of his mouth as he tried to hide it.

Logan looked to the chair and raised a finger. “Medic, please.”

The walk to his chair gave him one, tiny second to lock eyes with Leo. Logan wanted to tell him silently to call. Call while I’m calling. He didn’t linger long enough to see if Leo understood. He sat down in his chair, wiped sweat from his face, and looked at Finn. He was leaning back to say something to Logan’s mom. Maybe explaining the trick. Finn would know that Logan had absolutely no reason to call for a trainer.

Even still, a woman came jogging out onto the court. Logan heard the shush and mumble of the crowd as they figured out what was happening. She dropped her heavy supply backpack and knelt in front of Logan’s chair. She had kind eyes, dark hair pulled back into a slick bun, and when she spoke it was with an Australian accent.

“Hi, Mr. Tremblay. My name is Nicola. What can I do for you, sir?”

“Nothing,” Logan said in a low voice, and put his foot out. “Just check my ankle. Take your time about it.”

Nicola looked confused. “I…what?”

“Please,” Logan said.

She looked confused still, but slowly she reached out for Logan’s ankle. She began pressing at it tenderly, like she would if she had been checking for pain. Eventually, her eyes went to Leo’s chair. So, she’d figured it out.

“Is he calling?” Logan whispered.

“Yes, sir,” Nicola said.

Logan didn’t look Leo’s way, but relief flooded him. Another medic came out onto the court, heading Leo’s way. Logan didn’t care if anyone else saw through his trick. If he beat Leo, he didn’t want to do it like this.

He could only ask Nicola to pretend for so long, but when he looked over he saw that Leo had his eyes closed while the trainer dug his thumbs into his thigh in what was probably a good-pain way. Logan paced the baseline to keep his own muscles warm, then heard Finn’s voice in his head and ate half a banana.

When Leo rose to his feet, the crowd applauded, eager for the match to resume. Leo’s box got loud, too, but the tone sounded pressing, not encouraging. It made Logan want to make a noise complaint just so he could inadvertently tell them to fuck off.

One look at Finn told him everything he needed to know. Play, it seemed to say. Logan knew he was right. All he could do right now that wouldn’t hurt Leo, was play.

He tried to turn off everything but the game. The crowd was hardly there. Leo couldn’t be Leo just then. Logan had to turn him into just another player, or else Logan might looked down to find guilt gnawing its way through his chest. He even stopped looking at Finn. Finn now meant Leo, too, so at least for these few hours, there could be neither of them. There were no faces or features around him, just the yellow blur of the ball and the burn in his muscles as he took each point more easily than the last. This was what it had felt like to play when he had been alone, before Finn. The mechanical motions of the came combined with the small adjustments to strategy—treating his opponent like a machine to be figured out. A bleak headspace filled with gray and numbers. He didn’t like it there anymore. He never had.

When he took the win, it all snapped back in. The noise of the crowd roared into his awareness. The colors and court lights made him squint.

The pained flush on Leo’s face hit him right in the chest.

Logan turned and looked up at Finn. His hat was smushed between his palms, red hair a mess from his fingers. He didn’t exactly look like Logan had just become a U.S. Open Champion. He was on his feet and clapping now, but his eyes looked as exhausted as Logan felt. Imperceptible, if you didn’t know him. But Logan did know him. He didn’t know anything better than he knew Finn O’Hara. Finn hadn’t had the game to lock into. He’d been sitting there watching Leo in pain and Logan forcing himself into a brutal, winning pace.

Logan dropped his racket and rubbed his hands over his face. He should be smiling. He might have, had he not looked to see Leo with one hand on the net as he waited for him.

When Logan reached him, his hand was cold in Logan’s, and his breathing felt shallow as Logan rubbed a palm briefly up and down his back.

“That was some trick,” Leo said, drawing them closer to hide his words from any cameras. “With the trainer.”

“I love you,” Logan said. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” Leo said. “Go see your family. Oh.” He squeezed Logan tighter for a moment. “I love you, too.”

No one let Logan climb the stands this time, but pointedly directed him to the stairs. He sort of wished Finn would just come to him. He would have all night to see his family. Right then, he wanted a magical sort of door that took him away from all the prying eyes and into Finn’s arms.

Burying his face in Finn’s warm neck when he reached his box would have to do.

“You were going to win,” Finn whispered. “You did so good. Don’t feel guilty, you made that match end as fast as you could.”

“The thing with the trainer,” Logan mumbled.

“I know.”

Logan pulled back to look up at him. Asking. Telling. Imploring.

Finn only nodded, then gave him over to be hugged by his family.

It was excruciating, watching Leo try to fake his way through his speech. He was disappointed. Frustrated. But he was sweet and funny. Logan saw each time a muscle seized up in the way he turned away from the microphone briefly to draw a slow, steadying breath. He saw the way Leo kept one hand on the podium while he gave his runner-up speech. That same hand used Logan for support when they took their trophy photographs. Logan stood ready for him, immovable until Leo pulled away first.

“I’m so grateful to have the support that I do,” Logan said, trying not to wince as his voice echoed back at him around the stadium. “And the amazing talent I get to go up against.” He looked back at Leo. “Every single player on this tour has been in your shoes and all I’ll be thinking about is when we get to play again.”

Logan wanted off the court, he wanted Finn and Leo to himself. He wanted an ice bath and then Finn’s thumbs digging into that one point in his back.

“Finn,” Logan said, then startled back from the microphone as the stadium went wild. He even heard Leo laugh a little from behind him. Logan felt tears claw up his throat and laughed, too. “Leo.”

Because they were one now. Nothing existed without the other.

Leo’s eyes, when Logan found them, had gone a little wide.

“Je t’aime,” Logan said, then waved a hand up to the crowd, who reached back. “Je t’aime, merci.”

~

Finn and Logan didn’t have to agree to find Leo, but he wasn’t where they thought he would be. He wasn’t recovering like Logan had just spent the last thirty minutes doing. He was in a lounge near the locker rooms, sitting on a couch with his long legs bent awkwardly due to the sag of the old sofa cushion. Four people seemed to be trying to talk to him at once.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” one of them said under their breath when they saw Finn and Logan. It made Leo look up. He looked tired. So tired. His silver plate trophy was on the coffee table in front of him, casting shimmery reflections across his drawn face.

Finn drew in a breath, about to speak, but Logan gave the back of his t-shirt a sharp tug and stepped forward instead.

“I need a word with Leo,” Logan said.

Leo was on his feet in a second, stepped out from around the table. He was still limping.

“What for?” the coach asked. “We’re in the middle—”

“Players business.”

“His business is my business.”

Leo didn’t look at them. He didn’t even turn around. His eyes were unfocused and trained on Logan’s chest.

“But mine isn’t,” Logan snapped. “Excuse us.”

He didn’t take Leo’s hand. He wanted to drag him out of there by both hands, but he stayed perfectly still with so many eyes on them. That wouldn’t help Leo just then. Obviously, he had already been told that loving each other made them weaker players. Logan wouldn’t give them something to point at. If they thought this made them weaker, they didn’t deserve to see even a glimpse of the strength that flooded Logan every time Leo so much as looked at him.

  So, Logan made to turn away, knowing Leo and Finn would follow.

“O’Hara.”

Finn stiffened beside Logan and looked back over his shoulder. Leo’s team looked like they had been having a silent conversation, but now their eyes were on Finn.

“A word, if you don’t mind,” said the coach, and he scowled at Logan. “Coach business.”

“I have a few minutes,” Finn said. He looked down at Logan. “See you in a second.” His eyes flit wordlessly in the direction of the recovery rooms.

The room was simple. An examination mattress with a cushion against the wall. A side table, a sink, a few stools, and a small, humming refrigerator in the corner whose glass door showed cold water bottles and hydration drinks. Logan went to it while Leo pulled himself up onto the bed with a groan, stretching his legs out. He’d been icing his knee. Logan could see the redness that the cold had left behind.

“I’m…” Logan set the water aside. He wasn’t sure what to say. He put a hand on Leo’s thigh where the redness was and experimental kneaded his thumb into the muscle. When Leo’s eyes closed with pleasure, he did it again.

“I fired them,” Leo whispered.

Logan let out a breath. “You did?”

Leo nodded. His chest rose and fell heavily once, then he opened his eyes and looked at Logan tiredly.

“Maybe I’ll be like you were,” Leo said. “Try it solo. For a while.”

No. Logan hated that idea. He’d done the endless plane rides alone. The hotels, the mornings, the lonely nights that came whether he won or lost. He didn’t want that for Leo. He wasn’t sure Leo would be able to do it. He was a people person, far more so than Logan ever had been. He was like Finn. He liked to talk, to laugh, to be surrounded by others.

“Leo,” Logan began to say, but suddenly, voices from the other room could be heard plain as day. Finn was—

Leo and Logan looked at each other in surprise. Finn was shouting.

“No. Nope, nope, you saw, you saw what was happening! You do nothing? What did you want him to do, push through? He’d been playing for hours, he needed help, that’s what you’re there for, you know that.”

“It’s a fucking cramp! They go away.”

“He needs water, he needs sugar—”

“Hey. Hey, where do you get off trying to tell me—”

“He needs you not to be running him the way you were the day before the match, in the heat, in the sun. He needs you to not be rolling your fucking eyes when he asks for the medic, are you fucking kidding me—

“Oh, fuck off, O’Hara. You can do fuck all with Tremblay, whatever, but Leo’s not one of your fucking whores, all right?”

There was a shocked beat of silence. Leo and Logan stared at each other, wide-eyed. Logan didn’t catch the next thing Finn said, not until he raised his voice again.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“He’s not. Your. Player.”

When Finn spoke next, he sounded dangerous. Truly dangerous.

“That is not,” Finn began, “what you just said.”

If Logan didn’t know him, he would have been just a bit terrified. But he did know him. And he knew the second he came back into this room it would melt. If he was ever rough with the two of them, it only came out as pure pleasure.

“Call Logan that again,” Finn said. “Let’s see what happens. Go ahead.”

“You have no distance,” Logan heard the coach say. “You cannot run a player like you do, you have no discipline, no—”

“Run? Run a player? They’re not machines!”

“They can be! If they’re worked right—”

“They’re not animals either,” Finn thundered. “They’re people.”

“You don’t treat them like people, you treat them like playthings. Your playthings.”

Finn went silent again. Logan covered Leo’s hand with his, Leo did the same to him, and they waited. Waited.

“This can be a lonely life,” Finn finally said. “A very lonely life. And this is the last thing I’ll say to someone like you, but I am the luckiest man in the entire fucking world to have found love, real love, in this game.”

Logan closed his eyes. He felt Leo’s forehead meet his temple and turned into him.

“And if you ever call Logan or Leo ‘things’, or anything else, again, I’ll sweep your fucking world out from under your feet.”

Leo made a quiet, sad sound in his throat and tilted his chin forward to brush their mouths together. He pulled back to look at him.

“We are lucky,” Leo said.

Logan nodded.

Finn came through the door very quiet. He was red, cheeks flushed in his anger, but he looked at Leo so softly. Logan loved that about him. He loved that. Finn set down two cups on the side table, along with a banana.

“Sorry about that Le,” he said.

Leo shook his head, dazed and glancing towards the door. “No. I…”

Finn handed him the cup, then caught Logan’s eye. “Guess I’ve got no more ground to stand on when I tell you not to lose your head?”

“I love you,” Logan said.

Finn pressed a hand over theirs, then reached for a cup.

“Drink this,” he said to Leo. He cracked the banana’s peel. “You like these kind of green, right?”

Leo just stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

Finn pressed it into his hand. “Okay. Eat is slow.” He passed that hand through Leo’s hair. “Okay?”

“I’m sorry he said that to you,” Leo said. He looked at Logan. “God, to both of you, I can’t believe…He knows how much you mean to me.”

“Don’t apologize for him,” Finn said, and that angry flush began to bloom over his cheeks again. “God, I could just…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Le. Okay. Le.”

Finn sank down on the other side of the PT pallet. He put a hand on Leo’s thigh. “Baby, I don’t—It’s not just that I don’t like the way your team talks to you anymore. I don’t like the way they manage your health. I don’t fucking like it. That, today? That was avoidable.”

Leo looked down, nodding. Logan’s anger flared up so fast that he had to squeeze Leo’s hand hard between his own. The fact that someone could put a look like that on Leo’s face made him want to kill. He couldn’t understand how Finn hadn’t hit Leo’s coach clean across the face. Logan wanted blood on his knuckles as badly as he wanted to curl up into Leo’s side.

“I want to say…” Finn glanced at Logan, who nodded quickly, heart in his throat, then back at Leo. “I’d have to train you two separately. And in different ways. But…I would.” Finn took the empty banana peel and cup and set it down, then took Leo’s hands. “Le, I’d love to be your coach.” Finn paused. “If you want me.”

“Oh…” Leo’s voice was so faint.

Logan was nodding again, even though neither of them were looking at him.

“I’ve been in your shoes as a player,” Finn said. “I’ve leveled up Lo’s game and he was already a master. And you’re brimming with talent and skill and they’re fucking wasting it. I can—”

Leo reached out and put a palm to Finn’s cheek, stopping him. Slowly, his eyes filled with tears. “I fired them tonight.”

Finn straightened. “You did?”

Leo nodded.

“Oh. Then—can I beg instead?” Finn laughed a little, then quieted. He turned his face into Leo’s hand and kissed his palm. His eyes met Logan’s, and Logan felt, all over again, what it had been like for Finn to be his in this way for the first time. “Please, Le.”

“Please? Please?” Leo repeated, and Logan watched him trace Finn’s jaw. “I’ve…always wanted someone like you.”

Finn smiled and it made Logan smile. Love. Real love in this game.

“Okay, hey.” Another kiss to Leo’s palm, then his wrist. “Hey, don’t cry.”

“No, no, I’m just relieved.” Leo’s laugh tumbled out of him and he looked at Logan. “Lo?”

“He wanted this a long time ago,” Finn said. “You should have seen him.”

Logan pulled a face, and Finn touched where his nose wrinkled up. “I don’t know what you mean by that. Of course I want this.”

“Our living room has a new groove from his pacing,” Finn said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Leo sniffed as he laughed again. “What? But okay.”

“Okay?” Finn looked hopeful still, which was funny because Logan was sure it had been a done deal long before today. Somehow, Leo always seemed to have been theirs. Not knowing him and that foreign, guarded dance in a ballroom, felt long, long ago.

Leo looked at Logan. “You won’t feel strange? Sharing him?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re past that,” Logan said, raising his eyebrows. “And I’m pretty sure he likes it. I know I like it.”

“I mean sharing him professionally.” Leo rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheek. “God.”

“Are we talking about me like I’m not here?” Finn cut in. “Because that’s—fine. But hey, hi.”

Logan reached out and put a hand on Finn’s cheek before moving it to Leo’s. “Yes. I want you to have him as your coach, too. It’s the best decision I ever made.”

“Man oh man,” Finn said. “Boys just want me for my skills.”

“Professional decision.”

“I have a lot of skills,” Finn said. “In a wide variety.”

“Finn,” Leo said.

Finn let out a ha and pulled on of Leo’s ankles into his lap, beginning to massage his calf. Leo groaned, but didn’t pull away. “I am so excited. I am so excited, I love this fucking job.”

Leo had his brows knit as Finn dug his thumbs into his knotted muscle, but he huffed out a laugh. “Are you on the clock right now?”

“No,” Finn said. He propped Leo’s foot on his shoulder and turned his head to bite gently at Leo’s ankle. “Relax your ankle for me.” Leo complied and Finn adjusted his grip to one Logan knew well. His ankle felt twenty times better because of that grip. Leo dropped his head back. Finn flit his eyes to Logan knowingly. “Good. Now come here for a second.”

Finn gently lowered Leo’s ankle back to the bed and took Leo’s hand so he could sit forward. He put one hand on Leo’s chest, right where his heart was. Logan counted the freckles on the back of it, then took the free hand Finn held out to him and counted those, too. Like stars, like the miles he’d run for both of them, he lost count.

“My clock never starts or stops,” Finn said softly. The brown color of his eyes looked melted and beautiful in the dim light. “Same goes for Logan. I care about you. A game doesn’t change that. A green court, a blue court, a clay court with white lines doesn’t change that. Some people might say that’s a bad thing but I don’t care. There is no line for me. If anything, I’m standing on the line so I can reach both sides whenever I want.”

Logan pulled his feet up and pressed himself into Leo’s side. “Rouge.”

“Really,” Finn said, looking between them. “I’m not kidding. I used to think playing tennis was my dream, but this…” He smiled, shaking his head. “This.”

“Same goes for you,” Leo said. “Do you hear me? We’ve got championships on the line, we’ve got a shit load of money on the line.” Leo tilted his chin towards Logan. “This one’s gonna get buckets of attention and shit about his legacy.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “But none of that compares to you. D’accord?”

Finn smiled at them. “So we’re in agreement, then.”

Logan had toed the line for so long between the happiness of winning, adrenaline-soaked and nothing more, and the lonely emptiness of loss. When he’d gotten Finn, he’d saw the lines blur before his eyes and loved it so much that he’d wiped them clean with his own palms. Leo had redrawn them. Soft, and bold, and real, and theirs to cross.

“As much as I enjoy sitting here with your hands on me,” Finn said. “I would like you to drink this water.”

“Here he goes,” Logan mumbled and Leo laughed.

“You hungry?” Finn asked.

“Yep,” Leo said.

“Where do you want to go?” Finn put the next cup into his hands. “Anywhere you want. Drain that, even—”

“The dregs,” Leo and Logan said in unison.

“Anywhere?” Leo asked.

“Ouais.” Logan messed with his gold chains, watching Leo’s throat move as he drank as Finn commanded.

“For now, room service steak will do, but then…”

Finn raised his eyebrows, eager. “Yeah?”

Leo set the cup down with a soft, almost sheepish grin. “Then let’s go home.”

(And that's a wrap on On The Line! I loved writing this story so very much. Thanks for reading and all of your wonderful messages!! I love talking about these three with you all <3 This is a trying time right now and I hope this brought a spark of joy...all the love <3 <3)

[oneluckygoose]

O'Knutzy Week Day 4

AHHHH DAY 4 MY FAVORITE OF EVERYTHING, ALL OF THESE FICS ARE SO GOOD Y'ALL!!!! [Again, this is a scheduled post and was written in June :')]

Credits to the writer, the myth, the LEGEND, @lumosinlove for all of these lovely characters and to @oknutzy-week-2024 for just being wonderful, (I'm sure they are, I don't actually know them, I've put them through enough at this point with the hell it is to schedule these things, and they haven't yelled at me yet, so I take that as a win)

Part two of my racing fic When We Can't Pretend (the name will probably make more sense now, poetic title and all) is out officially now, congrats to everyone who didn't read it yesterday as well. To all those who did, how'd ya like it? As with all Harvard Era FinLo, things are good and happy until they really aren't, this is the "really aren't" part, fair warning. ANYWAY, enjoy!

Summary: Finn confronts Logan about what happened in the car a few hours earlier and he gets his soul crushed.

Characters: Finn O'Hara, Logan Tremblay, Percy Lastname

Warnings: Cursing, Pain, Mentions of Past Injury, and emotional damage

Word Count: 2,096 (Preview of 238 under cut)

“Now explain to me again about this ‘natural talent?’” Percy questioned as they all settled at a table. They had decided to go to the nearby country club for dinner: it was large, doubled as a weird rich hangout, but it was supposed to have some good food, with a nice eating area. “I told you, not natural,” Finn retorted, rolling his eyes, “My grandparents lived next to a track up in Maine. Me and Alex would race all the time when we were up there for the summers.” Focus, focus, focus, Finn’s mind screamed at him as Percy kept talking. God, Finn couldn’t stop thinking about Logan, his mouth, his hands, the fire in his lips. It didn’t help that Logan was now pressed up against him in the tight booth. A waitress came up to get their drinks, and soon the conversation moved on from the racing. Finn could feel Logan beside him, reaching his hands up constantly to mess with his hat. It drove Finn wild, but he kept his eyes anywhere but Logan. He couldn’t look. Something, something, simmered inside of him; he couldn't name what, though. It got stronger every time Logan elbowed him, or threw his hand around his shoulder, or simply acted like everything was normal. Like Finn couldn’t still feel Logan’s hand in his hair and his teeth and tongue. It hurt, this game of pretend they were both playing.

[itsaash]

[podfics] of Spark, and Praise you Like I Should, written by fruitcoops

If you've read @fruitcoops' stuff, just reading those titles might be enough to know what lies ahead!

Continuing with the theme of post valentine's day - maybe you wanted something comforting like the last one, maybe you want something nice and spicy. So here's that option 😏

First Burn & Spark - 35min firefighter/EMT au

Praise You Like I Should - 22min, origin of Remus' praise kink. Sweater Weather-verse

these are rated explicit. please only click through if you're an adult!

[fruitcoops]

Please, Please, Please

Cubs beach day in Nice and prompt C4: "Sunscreen" for day 2 of @oknutzy-week-2024! Characters belong to @lumosinlove (except Colette)!

“You,” Logan began, rubbing his hand faster until an aggressive thwap-thwap-thwap punctuated his words. “Are not going to be embarrassing me here, ouais?”

“Okay—Jesus, Lo—yes, alright, I got it.”

Logan pulled back and examined his handiwork. Functional. For now. Down the beach, Leo already looked half-asleep in the sun, and Finn’s longing glances toward him were not even slightly hidden. The breeze ushered a cloud further along; the sudden sunburst made Finn squint.

Logan huffed and squirted another dollop of sunscreen onto his palm, aiming for Finn’s shoulder this time.

“Oh my god, Tremz.”

“You’re going to burn!” he insisted. Finn squirmed away, but he had never been able to shake Logan. Not on the ice, and certainly not on a pebbled beach he’d been traversing since literal infancy. He smoothed out a stray arc of white over Finn’s spine and watched goosebumps flare on his arm. “What would you do without me, eh? Crisp? Like toast?”

“You sound like your grandmother.”

“If I bring back a lobster boyfriend, she’ll think I don’t know how to take care of you!” Logan wiped the excess on Finn’s waist and nodded, satisfied. “Bon.”

Finn quirked a grin at him. “Am I free to go?”

He was so sweet in the sun. So sparkly, copper and amber and caramel catching in his hair where the salt air had starched soft waves. Logan came close and pressed a kiss to each of his summer-warm cheeks. “I love your freckles too much to let them roast.”

“Hmm.” Finn turned his head slightly to the side, pushing his smile into Logan’s cheek. “Just my freckles?”

“And maybe you, a little,” he conceded.

Finn’s hands were pleasantly cool when he ran them along Logan’s sides in a long up-and-down. “A little?”

“Maybe a little more.”

“Enough to bring me home.”

Logan scrunched his nose at him. “I had to bring you, or the hot blond wouldn’t come.”

Finn slapped the sunscreen bottle from his hands with Logan’s favorite wordless sound of affronted disapproval—nearly a squawk, mostly a whine, almost his name. He snatched the bottle just before it hit the coarse sand and took off at a jog, dodging driftwood and clumps of drying seaweed.

Nice was beautiful in the summer. There was a reason he had brought Finn here, years ago. Finn hadn’t known a lick of French and Logan had hardly known what to do with himself watching the autumn reds of Harvard against a backdrop of blue and purple, but it was perfect. Still was. He knew just where to step to make the dock silent as he slowed and made his way to the far end, matching the steady rock of the current as it broke on the sand below.

“Bonjour.”

“ ‘Jour.”

A lazy smile spread over Leo’s lips when Logan knelt to straddle him, knees sinking into the soft towel they had brought down from his grandmother’s house. She utterly adored Leo, with his cherub curls and his good manners and (most delightfully) the ability to speak French. They hadn’t stopped chatting in nearly a week. Logan could listen to it forever.

Leo stretched, torso arching, arms overhead, ankles popping behind Logan—and relaxed, one wildflower-blue eye peering up. “You’ve got a halo,” he murmured. “Mon ange.”

Logan sighed through his nose and let his weight rest heavy across Leo’s waist. His breaths were measured with the comfort of a beach day. The sun had been kissing him golden since the first hot day in June; a week lounging on the coast of France practically made him glow.

“Le mien.” He drew a line down the center of Leo’s chest, where tiny freckles peeked through if you knew where to look. Mine.

Leo’s smile widened until his eyes crinkled. “You sound different here.”

“Mm?”

“C’est, um…” He raised a hand with great effort, tapping his fingers together like a crab claw. “Taffy. Smoother. Fancy.”

“You don’t sound like anybody here,” Logan laughed, relishing the judder of Leo’s belly beneath him. “But, my grandmère loves you anyway.”

“Yeah, she does,” Leo said, prodding him in the chest. “We talk all day long and she doesn’t say I sound funny once. You, on the other hand…”

“Ah! Un petit caneton! Ouais-ouais-ouais, coin-coin-coin-coin,” Logan mimicked.

Leo’s laughter nearly unseated him; he had hardly caught his breath when a shadow cooled Logan’s shoulder, and he leaned blindly into Finn’s thigh. “Are you being bullied into proper skincare, too?” Finn asked.

Leo tilted his head back with a hum. “We’re discussing how Madame Colette likes me better, thinks my French sounds exotique, and calls her only grandson a duck because he speaks like un canadien.”

Finn tapped the bill of Logan’s hat, knocking it off his head. “So you’re Frenching without me and not manhandling Leo into sunscreen? Preferential treatment, much?”

Logan blinked up at him with all the emptyheaded innocence he could muster. “C’est quoi? Je ne parle pas l’anglais, j’regrette.”

Finn’s lips pursed—his ears reddened. “He’s so sorry,” Leo translated before Finn could open his mouth. His hands slid up Logan’s thighs, high enough to edge on indecent but steady enough that Logan really didn’t care. “He just came here to swim and hang out with his hot boyfriend. Doesn’t know a thing about sunscreen, do you, baby?”

A gentle flick to the forehead was a small price to pay for propping his chin on Finn’s knee. “Here in France,” he said, laying on a thick false accent. “We don’t…’ow do you say…burn? I have never ‘eard of zees sun-screen you speak of.”

Finn looked at him for a long moment, then down at Leo. Chocolate-brown eyes fell on Logan again and he batted his lashes. It drove Finn fucking crazy when he did that, less in the sexy way and more in the don’t you give me those eyes you menace way. Logan employed it often for petty crimes like leaving one chip in the bag and putting it back in the pantry, just to watch Finn’s head explode for his own amusement.

Finally, Finn clucked his tongue. “I’m getting on the plane home without you. Good luck finding a redhead in France.”

Logan caught him around the calf with both arms when he began stepping back. Finn pulled, but he stood no chance when a featherlight kiss found the base of his thigh. “You’ll love me in the morning,” Logan countered. “When you aren’t stuck inside with aloe all over.”

“I happen to like staying inside and doing puzzles with Madame Colette.”

“Grandmère will keep trying to teach you French,” he threatened.

Finn narrowed his eyes, though he had long since stopped trying to free his leg. “Maybe this time I’ll learn, and then we can make fun of you together.”

“You won’t get to see the surprise,” Leo singsonged.

Logan frowned down at him, confused. “What surprise?”

Leo took his lower lip between his teeth and looked up at Finn, plucking at the hem of Logan’s swim trunks. “Remember when Lo and I went into town for bread yesterday?”

“…yes,” Finn said slowly.

“He got a really tiny swimsuit.” Logan watched Finn’s eyes widen. “And if you burn, you won’t get to see it.”

“It’s green,” Logan offered helpfully.

The corner of Finn’s jaw worked. “That’s a hard bargain,” he said at last. He beckoned Logan up with one finger and took the sunscreen back from him, setting it down by Leo. There was a curious, analytical look in his eye that made Logan want to know everything and nothing all at once. “I’ll think on it.”

“Can I help you make up your mind?” he teased.

“Yeah, actually,” Finn said, brightening. “You can.”

Logan’s pulse kicked. One week here with them had left him feeling like he’d been soaked in honey, and it only seemed to get better. He had barely been nineteen when he first brought Finn along. This future had not even been in his best daydreams. “Quoi, rouge?”

“You can cool off.”

The sudden shove to his chest caught him by surprise—the clash of the ocean around him silenced Leo’s bark of laughter in a blur of bubbles and blue. He could see Finn’s wobbly outline sketched out by the sun. Where the water drew him down to smooth gray pebbles, they drew him up, and he kicked off the bottom with the world waiting above.

[sophsicle]

there's a scene in vaincre by lumosinlove, where these two characters (leo and finn) are talking about relationships they've been in where they've had to hide, and leo says something like "it wasn't his fault, he was just scared. we were all just scared." and finn says "still, there's a way to treat a person"

and this is how i know that i am deeply emotionally repressed.

because no mcd has ever made be sob as much as that line.

it's not even a particularly sad moment in that fic (like it is but it isn't)

but.

there's a way to treat a person.

we were all scared. but you didn't need to cut me open like that. you didn't need to shove me aside. you didn't need to look through me. we were all scared but you still could have been kind. surely. kinder, at least, than the things we were scared of.

there's a way to treat a person.

[thatssomuchlove]

Fic-o-Ween Day 1

For Fic-o-Ween 2024 put on by @noots-fic-fests! All characters by @lumosinlove

The first (and hopefully not only) chapter inspired by the Mafia AU invented on the Hazelnoot discord server:

Sitting on the couch in his apartment living room, Leo was interrupted from struggling not to let his eyes skip lines during a very suspenseful moment in his book when he heard a loud crash from the kitchen. He jumped up and swung around the door jam to see all his nice pans on the floor…again.

His roommate looked up at him with wide eyes from where he stood by the coffee maker, “I swear I didn’t touch it!”

Leo sighed, “It’s not your fault, Finn. That rack keeps falling down because apparently these wall anchors do not hold their advertised weight!” He huffed. The cabinet space in their tiny New York apartment was abysmal, so hanging up his pans like they do in those fancy kitchens with marble counters or copper detailing seemed like the best option.

“Could also be these shitty walls,” Finn chirped and tapped the wall behind him.

“Yeah, that too,” Leo returned Finn’s grin and could tell he was also thinking about how well they can hear the music from the online Zumba class that one of their neighbors attends religiously. “I’m just going to have to get a stud finder at the hardware store. You have a drill, right?” Finn grimaced and shook his head. “Then a drill set, too.”

Finn clapped a hand on his shoulder as he brushed by with his travel mug, “I would offer to go with, but I’m headed into the office.”

“What? Finn, it’s Saturday.”

“A journalist never rests!” And he was out the door.

Leo looked at the small tear through the dry wall from the anchor being ripped out forcefully and sighed again. He stacked his pans on a clear spot on the counter and went to collect what he needed for a walk to the hardware store.

~

The bell on the door jingled overhead as Leo entered the shop. The closest one he could find on maps seemed to be a family-run place without much information on the page at all—just the open hours and a handful of reviews, no website or pictures of the inside. Leo would have to agree with kathybee309, it was surprisingly warm and inviting as soon as he stepped inside. He couldn’t see the check-out counter from the door, but clear, handwritten indices at each aisle directed Leo to the stud finders. He was holding two options in his hands, trying to think of a reason he shouldn’t just get the cheapest one, when a soft voice spoke up to his right.

“Are you finding everything you need?”

Leo noted an accent and looked up quickly only to almost drop what he was holding. The employee that spoke to him was decently shorter than him and had a combination of curly chocolate hair, bright green eyes, and prominent muscles—truly the way his heavy apron cinched around his waist and barely covered the width his denim-wrapped thighs was criminal—that had Leo a bit weak at the knees. “Umm, hi, yeah I think I’m um good,” he stammered. “Just,” a nervous laugh, “trying to decide.” Leo held up the stud finders and tried to make his smile friendly and not as painfully awkward as he currently felt.

The store employee walked closer to him and examined the options in his hands before meeting his eyes again. At this distance Leo could read his nametag: Logan. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to hang up my pans. The darn wall rack keeps falling out, so I decided to go a little more heavy duty than dry wall anchors.” He held up one of the stud finders and tried to joke, “need some studs.” Logan gave him a smile, small and breathtaking.

“Well, they’ll both work for that, but this simpler one should be sufficient,” Logan tapped his finger on the cheaper one. Yeah, Leo would say that they were working just fine considering the person in front of him. “Is that all?”

“Yep,” Leo nodded, no thoughts in his brain.

“Trés bon, you can follow me back to check out.” Logan jerked his head back the way he had come and started down the aisle. Leo hurriedly put the other stud finder back and trailed after Logan, almost tripping when he noticed the way his ass moved in those tight jeans. He kept his eyes fixed on the back of Logan’s head for the rest of the short walk to the register.

It wasn’t until Leo had closed his apartment door behind him that he realized that he completely forgot about the drill. He leaned against the door and cursed quietly. At least this time he would be prepared for the hardware store hottie and maybe not make quite as big of a fool out of himself.

~

He had decided to give it a day, with the hope that Logan would not be working so that he could avoid further embarrassment. The other half of his brain really wanted to see the hot employee again, convinced that this time he would be able to successfully flirt.

“This is a terrible idea,” Leo murmured under his breath as he rounded the sidewalk and came upon the beautifully carved dark red-brown doors set into the corner of the building.

He beelined to the drill section upon entering and luckily didn’t have as much trouble choosing this time. He came from a Milwaukee household. His eyes bugged out a bit when he saw the prices, “Jesus, that’s expensive.” Good thing his new job paid pretty well.

“We actually have a sale going for those right now.” Leo jumped at the voice behind him and turned to see a familiar, unfairly handsome face.

“Logan, hi,” Leo recovered quickly and came to the conclusion that he would have been far more disappointed to not see Logan today.

“I feel a bit at a disadvantage with you knowing my name when I don’t know yours.”

“Oh lord, where are my manners? My name’s Leo,” and he reached out to shake Logan’s warm, callused hand. He couldn’t squash the urge to explain himself, “I realized yesterday that a stud finder is a little useless without a drill and screws .”

Logan turned to the opposite shelves and scanned them for a second before picking up a box of screws. “These should work well for dry wall and studs.”

Leo offered a winning smile, “What would I do without you?” and took the box from Logan, quite possibly deliberately brushing their fingers together.

Logan looked up at him for a beat too long before stepping back. He cleared his throat, “Just doing my job. Do you need anything else?”

After taking a quick survey of what was in his hands—drill, drill bits, screws—Leo responded, “nope,” and followed Logan to the counter. In effort to keep the conversation going as Logan was ringing him up, he commented, “the front doors are gorgeous.”

“Merci. That was a long project, but one of my favorites. I can’t stand painted front doors.”

Leo chuckled, “Neither can my mama.” He looked behind him in the direction of the front of the store, “I can’t believe you made them,” turning back to look at Logan again, “y- that’s incredible.”

He was rewarded with another small smile, but this one had a tinge of something sad, “Oh I didn’t do them on my own. I was mainly helping my father. This whole store was his passion project.”

“Hell of a successful passion project, I bet I’d be astonished to see what he could accomplish with his day job!”

Logan’s smile twisted confusingly wry, “His day job wasn’t as important to him,” then that same sadness again, “But we’ll never really know what all he could have done, he passed several years ago.”

Trying to temper his shame of talking with Logan about his dead father with the fact that Logan brought him up, Leo erased the shock off his face and brought one hand up to squeeze Logan’s shoulder, “I’m sure he feels at peace knowing you are carrying on the legacy of what he loved.”

“Well, he’s not the only legacy-carrier, are you Lo Bear?” a voice called, and a young woman emerged from the back. Leo dropped his hand. If he hadn’t already guessed that they were related from her statement, he would have known just by looking at her. They could have been twins, but her green eyes were piercing through him where Logan’s were a warm, solid weight.

Logan, with color on his cheeks, huffed, “Leo, this is my sister Noelle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Noelle.”

“Likewise,” she cocked her head at him. “What brings you here this fine Sunday morning?”

“Oh, just trying to hang stuff up in my kitchen. Not enough cabinet space.”

“An eternal struggle in Gryffindor.”

Leo chuckled, “Yeah, I’m finding that out.”

“Did you move here recently?”

“Yes, actually I moved here only a few months ago.”

“For a job?”

Leo was starting to get slightly unnerved by the accuracy of her guesses but tried not to let it show, “yes ma’am.” Logan had finished putting his things into a bag and pushed it his way while glaring at his sister. He looked between the siblings for a second before politely saying, “well I’ll let y’all get back to work. It was nice to see you again, Logan.”

Logan turned back to him and his gaze softened, “come back any time, Leo.”

~

As soon as Logan heard the sound of the door swinging shut behind Leo, Noelle jumped up and hastily looked around the store, but it was empty. She turned back towards Logan, who furrowed his brows at her.

“Thank god I was here today. You need to be more careful, Lolo.”

“Quoi?” Logan looked around in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are Jackson and Evgeni here?”

“Ouais, of course. What’s going on?” Logan’s eyes started darting around the store and his fingers gravitated towards the handgun strapped to the underside of the counter.

“Nothing right now.” Noelle flashed him a quick smirk, “I thought you were just flirting with a customer and wanted to come out and see, but then I got a good look at him. The tall blond cutie pie is not what he seems, he’s the newest detective on the Gryffindor police force.” At Logan’s wide eyes, she tacked on, “Ouais, the ones who would have us in handcuffs if they even so much as caught a whiff of what’s going on.”

“Merde,” Logan breathed out. While he wouldn’t have pegged Leo as a cop in a million years, he could see how his underlying air of quiet confidence would make him an effective detective. Still, he seemed too genuine to be at the shop secretly sniffing around for a case, and Logan had a good bullshit detector, “I will be more careful, Noelle, but I don’t think that’s why he was here.”

“I trust you, Logan, just don’t let that pretty smile blind you.” Noelle ruffled his hair and stepped back, “I’m gonna head back to Maman’s. I love you.”

“I love you too, Nolly.” Logan waved goodbye and waited until she was out of sight before he sat down with a loud exhale, running a hand through his hair.

He wished that knowing Leo was, in essence, his enemy had halted his fantasies about the man altogether, but it had unfortunately and predictably only intensified his desire. It was unusual for him to feel a connection with someone so quickly, without really knowing them at all, but Leo was special somehow, just like… Logan shook his head.

Why was such a seemingly sweet guy working for such a corrupt system? Why did Logan have the urge to trust him anyway? He opened his laptop and set to find out everything that he could about Leo, the new detective at GPD, for his family’s safety, of course.

[klairwritesthings]

So I demolished all of the cannon Sweater Weather content in like four days and have been reading fan content non stop since. So here's my little take on it. Thank you so much to @lumosinlove for creating this beautiful universe and letting us play in it. I would love any requests for other ideas, seriously I can't get enough of these hockey boys.

TW for overworking oneself to the point of collapse, mentions of nausea and vomiting (no one throws up), and general angst

Skate, strides long, smooth, fast but don't rush. Bounce the puck off the wall, catch it, cradle don't scoop, loop around the goal, shoot, ping, who misses the net without a fucking goalie, surely not a professional NHL player, go again, watch your lines, take the shot, what the fuck is wrong with you, Sirius leaning on the boards with that sleepy look in his eye, go again- wait, what?

Remus halted so hard and fast that if he hadn't been on artificial ice shavings would have sprayer all over his boyfriend. Remus panted, taking a panicked look at the clock that hung on the wall. Had he lost track of time? But no, 6:07 blinked at him in harsh red. Sirius never got up earlier than nine the morning after a game, which should have left Remus plenty of time to shower and sneak back into bed like nothing had happened.

"What are you doing up so early?" He gasped out, lungs heaving. Fuck, he ached. No, burned. His thighs were on fire, calves cramping, joints shaking at the mere act of holding himself up. Not to mention his shoulder twinging at every little twist and pull, forcing him to hold back a wince.

Sirius just rose an eyebrow, "I could be asking you the same thing." Remus shrugged, bypassing the question, knowing that actually I never went to sleep because I snuck out of our bedroom to watch two hours of tape and then run drills for three hours would not be an acceptable answer.

"How long have you been standing there?" How many open goals did you see me miss.

Sirius mimicked his shrug, maybe a little mockingly, and Remus swallowed thickly. So he was in trouble, then.

"I woke up and you weren't there." Remus licked his lips and tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't end in a fight. Sirius beat him to it. "Baby, what are you doing? You practically spent the whole night on the ice," If only you knew how true that was. "You need rest after a game like that."

"I just need to get this play right. I'm almost done, go back to bed." Sirius' eyes went from worried to hard in less than a heart beat, Remus shrinking under the heat of his gaze.

"Non."

"No?"

"Non, you're not going to get that play right, Remus." Remus nearly flinched. He knew he'd played badly last night, but to hear the unbelief from Sirius himself stung. Sirius' face softened a little, holding out his hand. "Come here, mon amour."

Remus hesitated for a moment, unsure, but eventually skated the distance to the board, his knees and ankles groaning in protest. Sirius took his hand, removing his glove and gently kissing his finger tips.

"You aren't going to get that play while you're still exhausted and over worked. Your body needs rest, baby. It can't work on empty. You taught me that." Remus closed his eyes, taking a breath and trying to hold back the tears that suddenly burned behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, love?"

"The game." The silence stretched on so long that he opened his eyes, Sirius' face blurring before him. He had that little furrow between his brows he only got when he was worried, or trying to figure out a particularly complex play.

"I'm not following." Remus' breath hitched and he could feel a lump growing in his throat.

"I missed your pass." Sirius' brow furrowed further.

"And? I missed a goal, Remus, it's hockey, it happens."

"Not to me." Sirius' eyebrows shot up, incredulous. Remus had to close his eyes against the judgement he was sure had to be brewing there. "It didn't use to happen to me... before." His voice had grown small, shaking. There was a pause, and then his face was being cradled between warm hands, callused from holding a stick all his life, fingers crooked from where they had bent around the shape of it. Warm lips pressed against his brow.

"Mon loup, you are an incredible hockey player. You were before, and you are now." Remus shook his head, feeling the first traitorous tears begin to slip down his face.

"I'm so out of practice, Sirius. I can't catch up all of you, I can't even catch up to myself, to what I used to be able to do."

"You don't need to catch up to anyone, you're already there. You played beautifully last night, you always do. We lost as a team. You cannot carry every loss by yourself, let us shoulder it with you, baby." Remus couldn't help but laugh a little, listing forward to rest his forehead against Sirius'.

"Now where have I heard that before?" Sirius smiled into the kiss he pressed against Remus' lips."

"A very wise physical therapist told me that." Remus chuckled, hand coming up to rest where Sirius' were gently cradling his neck, fingers running through the sweat damp hair that curled there. "Why don't we shower and go back to bed, ouis?" Remus nodded a little.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good." Sirius smiled, holding out a hand to help him over the boards.

Remus got one leg over before the world started spinning. Sirius caught him under the shoulders, taking most of Remus' weight while he tried to get his feet back under him.

"Merde," Sirius grunted out. "Baby, you okay?" Remus blinked hard, realizing the blurry halo surrounding his boyfriend's face wasn't just tears.

"Yeah... yeah sorry, I'm just a little..." Remus trailed off, body suddenly feeling heavy as black dots floated in his vision. He could hear Sirius' panicked voice, feel him lowering Remus to the ground, cupping the back of his head.

Remus felt like he was floating, vaguely feeling the ache of his sore body but unable to get it to move. He wasn't sure how long the world stayed out of focus, Sirius' strained words muffled. It felt like the TV static he remember zipping through his fingers when he touched the screen as a little kid.

Finally, slowly, things began to sharpen. Unfortunately that meant the pain in his legs and shoulder amplified ten fold. He couldn't help but let out a groan through clenched teeth.

"Remus, mon amour, can you hear me?" Remus went to nod but another wave of dizziness over took him, forcing himself to snap his eyes shut again and work through the growing nausea. He settled on a strained "Mhmm". He felt the gasped breath of relief over his flushed skin.

"Talk to me baby, what's happening? Do I need to call Hestia? Moody? An ambulance?" Sirius was sounding more and more panicked with each rambled word, hands flitting nervously over Remus' body as if he would break him.

Remus swallowed a few times, making sure he wasn't about to be sick, before grunting out, "M' fine." He squinted up at Sirius' face, unable to keep up with how quickly it was switching between incredibly worried and furious.

"You are not fine. You just collapsed." Sirius was angry, but Remus could hear the tears in his voice.

"I'm sorry". Sirius' face crumpled.

"No, baby, don't- don't be sorry, just tell me what to do." Remus nodded, licking at his chapped lips.

"Can you get me a gatorade?" Sirius slumped a little, seemingly relieved at having a task to complete.

"Yeah, yeah une seconde". He scrambled up, all of his usual grace disappeared, and jogged over to the stocked fridge they kept within reaching distance. In seconds he had returned, already uncapping a yellow gatorade. Remus couldn't help the little grin that quirked at his lips.

"My favorite."

"Of course. Here, let me help." Sirius rested a hand at Remus' back, slowly helping to sit him up before tilting the bottle to his lips.

Remus forced himself to take slow sips, even though he was suddenly so thirsty he felt like he was dying. He was pretty sure Sirius would combust if he threw up right now. The liquid soothed his throat and slowed the spinning of the world.

"Better?" Sirius asked, Remus humming in reply. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sirius holding the bottle until Remus stopped shaking enough to grasp it on his own. He moved down to Remus' skates, beginning to untie them.

"How long have you been down here?" Sirius didn't look up from his task, and Remus was grateful for the space he was being granted.

"A few hours." Sirius winced, but just slid his first boot off.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not really."

"Eat?"

"...No." Sirius' eyes slipped shut, hands resting on Remus' ankles as he drew in a deep breath. Finally, he looked up at, grey eyes imploring.

"Baby, do you know how dangerous that is?"

"It wasn't that bad". The words felt week, even to himself.

"You could have hurt yourself, love. Or what if I hadn't been here? Do you know how terrifying it would have been to come down here and find you like that?" Tears prickled at the back of Remus' eyes.

"I'm sorry." Sirius sighed, Moving up to sit between Remus' thighs, legs bent to rest on either side of him. Remus all but slumped forward into the embrace, melting into the feeling of Sirius' hands working out the knots in his curls.

"You can't do that. You can't punish yourself, and you can't beet your body into submission. Trust me, I've tried, it doesn't work." Remus sniffled, hiding in the soft skin of Sirius' neck.

"I know." Sirius' arms tightened around him.

"Let me help, ouis? If you want to run drills we'll rest and then do it together. Okay?" Remus nodded, relaxing further as Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. "Tell me when you're ready and we'll get you something to eat and get you to bed."

"Okay, just... Give me a minute."

"We have all the time in the world, love."

[imjusthereforwolfstar]

So I attempted a thing, and I can’t believe I actually got it done in time for O’Knutzy Week.

Title: What Did You Do?

Prompt: Column B- B1 Romance Novels, B2 Vacation, B3 Surprise Visit, B4 Babbyyyyy and B5 Good Morning to Me

CW for Food, squint and you might miss it joke about weight, General Vaincre Spoilers

Big thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for organizing this amazing week, and always huge thanks to @lumosinlove for the characters and this world we get to play in.

Leo woke because the bed was vibrating. Confused, he cracked open one eye to see it wasn’t the bed, exactly, that was vibrating. Finn was perched on the edge of the bed, struggling to contain his excitement while Leo slept.

“Oh! Hey Sunshine! You’re awake! We have to leave in 45 minutes.”

Leo blinked rapidly. “Leave? Finn, it’s the week before training camp starts. We don't have to be anywhere until we go to the hardware store this…” he trailed off, staring at Finn and his poorly concealed grin. He narrowed his eyes. “Finn. What did you do?”

“Me? Do something?” Finn asked innocently. Then he clapped his hands once. “Now up! We’ve got a day ahead of us.”

Leo ran through his morning routine faster than usual, then found Finn in the living room. Finn was sitting on the couch, finishing up his coffee, with two small, overstuffed duffle bags on the seat next to him, and a mischievous look on his face. “Ready Butter?”

“I guess so? Finn, what’s-”

“Great!” Finn clapped his hands again and rubbed them together. He jumped up, but as he grabbed the two duffles, a smaller canvas tote next to his foot slid to the floor. “OH! I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He handed the bag to Leo. “For entertainment and nourishment during our travels.”

Leo peeked in the bag. There were four boxes of his favorite candy, two cans of favorite sweet tea (almost as good as Eloise’s) and 3 brand new romance novels. Leo's face lit up. “You got the newest ones?” Finn grinned at the excitement on Leo’s face. “Waited in line to snag them the day they came out.”

They settled into the car and Finn pulled out of the parking lot. “Finn, what’s going on?” Leo tried again, but Finn just smiled a vague smile and wagged his eyebrows.

Finn pulled onto the highway and headed south. Leo saw no use in asking again where they were going, so he contented himself with watching the city slide past the window.

They had been on the road for a while when Finn turned off the highway. He drove a few miles off the main road, through a small town, and pulled into a parking lot. “Thomas told me about this place,” he explained, “they bake everything fresh, their pastries are amazing, and they are just next door to this neat crystal shop. Oh, and the coffee shop down the street is supposed to have the best lavender lattes.”

Finn and Leo spent a pleasant hour sampling the pastries (Leo’s favorite was the lemon meringue tart, Finn enjoyed the peach turnovers, and they both agreed to bring Logan back for the salted caramel brownies) and Leo and the woman at the register chatted and swapped baking tips when they paid, while Finn petted a strangely friendly orange cat. They wandered up the street, poking in the shops (“Finn, look at these crystals! I wonder what these are for?”) before getting coffee in gorgeous handmade mugs from the shop down the road. Finn paid and he and Leo settled in the squashy chairs.

“Finn.” Leo started again. “This has been a lovely morning, but what is going on?”

Finn took a long sip of his latte. “It’s the week before training camp. You get edgy. You wander around, straighten things that are already straight and organize sock drawers that are already organized. And Lo’s gone back a week early to settle himself in before camp starts. I… I can’t keep you settled in the way he can, so I thought a short little surprise vacation might take your mind off of things before everything starts again.”

Leo blinked. Did he really do that? He thought back to last year and the feeling of unsettledness came back to him. Wandering from room to room, reworking the kitchen, picking up a book only to put it down a few minutes later because he couldn’t focus. He muttered a sheepish apology, but Finn just laughed. “Don’t apologize! It gives me an excuse to spoil you and take you on a mini trip.” Leo smiled and leaned and gave Finn a kiss. “Thank you Fish.”

Finn smiled. “Shall we, then?” Leo nodded. They got back in the car and drove for another while, until Leo started to smell sea air.

Finn pulled the car into the driveway of a gorgeous beach house. Leo got out of the car and looked up at the house. It was huge. White clapboard, black shutters with little hearts cut out of them, and a royal blue door. It sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean. He saw a small, fenced in yard in the back with a patio and fire pit. The late summer breeze ruffled his curls as he walked up to the edge of the bluff and stared out at the water. The waves were blue and sparkling and crashing up against the beach and Leo was suddenly struck at how different it was from the Bayou back home.

Home. He missed home. He missed the heat and the humidity and the smell of spices in the air when he walked up on the porch of his parents house. And he missed his parents. The start of the season always made him miss the love and support he got from Eloise and Wyatt. They had been with him though so many season starts and they knew just what Leo needed to help him get his head into the game. And although he knew they still loved him and supported him, it was somehow different hearing it through a speaker. Leo sighed, and turned back to the car to help Finn with the bags. He pulled the canvas bag from the front seat. He was looking forward to cracking open the newest novel, snuggled up with Finn in the hammock he spied in the backyard, taking turns reading chapters out loud to each other.

Leo was walking up the front steps when the front door opened, and a familiar blond head poked out. Leo’s jaw dropped and he turned to Finn with wide eyes.

“Surprise!”

“Finn. What did you do?”

“Surprise!”

The door opened the rest of the way, and Leo was enveloped in a hug he was just now realizing he needed and missed. Eloise smelled like home. Magnolia perfume and outside and fresh baked muffins. Wyatt ruffled his hair and Leo could feel the roughness of his hands, reminders of childhoods past, hours in the garage and even more hours on the ice. Leo took a deep breath and let the feeling of peace wash over him. Leo was still learning that he didn’t have to be strong for everyone, all the time. It was okay to let it go and let people take some of the weight, and right now, with his parents this close, he knew it was okay to let them carry the weight of the season for him for a little bit.

Leo took another deep breath and caught a whiff of something amazing. He pulled back from the hug. “Mama…is that your gumbo I smell?”

“Sure is, love. Been cooking since 10 am.”

Leo followed his nose straight to the spacious kitchen. Copper pots hung on the rack over the light gray island. There was a massive slate farmhouse sink in front of a window that had gorgeous views of the ocean. And there, on the stove, was a pot full of Leo’s favorite. Bowls and spoons were already next to the stove, so Leo took a big scoop of rice and an even bigger scoop of gumbo, and sat at the island savoring Eloise’s exquisite ability to balance flavors. He already could see Finn doing his best to politely eat a few spoonfuls while slowly turning as red as his hair.

Finn did indeed politely eat a few spoonfuls of gumbo before Eloise laughed and took pity on him and pulled some cold fried chicken out of the fridge.

It was a lovely afternoon. The weather was just starting to cool off, and there was a wonderful breeze in the air. They ate, and chatted about everything and nothing. Finn and Leo sat in the hammock and passed the book back and forth, laughing at the absurd parts and discussing how much better they could have written the ending. Leo and Eloise found the path down to the beach and skipped rocks in the water, while Wyatt and Finn watched late season baseball. In the early evening, Leo opened the fridge and discovered it was packed with all his favorite ingredients. He cooked up a storm, making blackened catfish sandwiches with homemade remoulade sauce and green beans, with peach cobbler for dessert. After everyone was pleasantly full, Wyatt lit a fire in the fire pit, and they sat around the crackling fire, cups of tea or warm apple cider, and discussed the Lions prospects for the season.

It was almost the perfect evening. It was late summer and the nights were just starting to cool off, but the fireflies were still winking at them from in the grass. The stars were brighter here than in Gryffindor, but still not as bright as home. The only thing missing was Logan. Logan and Eloise would be comparing notes of French Canadian vs French Creole by now, and he and Wyatt would have already made plans to work on the car the next time they visited New Orleans.

Finn’s hand caught his and squeezed, like he knew what he was thinking. Logan had texted back when they sent him pictures of the house and the ocean. He and Alex had made plans for dinner now that he was back in NYC and Leo was happy he was settling in so much better this year than last year.

Leo slept better than he had in several weeks. He woke for a few minutes when Finn slipped out of the bed for his morning run on the beach, and drifted back to sleep listening to the murmur of voices in the living room.

The smell of Wyatt’s biscuits and gravy snaked its way under the bedroom door, and lured Leo from bed. He shuffled down the stairs, and rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Well, good morning to me. Dad, they are going to have to get me a larger jersey after…” he trailed off. Sitting at the counter, tucking into a pile of fluffy biscuits and creamy gravy, was a head of chocolate curls he would have known anywhere.

“Lo?” Leo croaked. “What? Why are you here? You were in New York?”

Logan turned his head to face him. “I’m here for you. Well, you, and the promise of Eloise and Wyatt’s home cooking. But mostly you, Soleil.”

Leo rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Logan's back. He buried his face into Logan’s neck and breathed in the familiar scent of cologne and mint tea and Tiger Balm and finally felt everything fall into place.

The back door clicked open. “Babyyyyy?” Leo called out.

“Yes?” Finn came around the corner, in shorts and running shoes, headphone case in one hand and the tops of his shoulders a little pink.

“What did you do?” Leo asked for the last time, and Finn smiled his biggest Finn smile. “Surprise?”

[lying-onthe-couch]

An ode to fanfic writers.

Regulus Black has saved my life.

A character that has not more that three lines in cannon has become my saving grace. When I became completely indifferent for the outside world and couldn’t find a reason to wake up everyday he was the only reason I tried. I’m not saying it’s healthy or a healthy coping mechanisms but he was the only reason.

I thank every day to the generous fanfic writers that gave me a reason to keep living (honorary mention to MesserMoon, MsKingBean89, Solmussa, chazzledazzlethem, wrongcaitlyn, zeppazariel, lumosinlove) for giving me a reason to keep going. To force my soul to appreciate life in a way I was unable to do for myself at the moment. I wish every fanfic writer knows how much love I have for them, for the simple act act of sharing their most true self.

I try to comment in every fanfic I read full of appreciation for your work but if it was untouched, even if I haven’t have pleasure I reading your work, THAK YOU, in name of every person’s life you’ve touched.

Genuinely, I love you.

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 4: Dead End

Some Luke/Logan friendship for day four of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Thanks to @lumosinlove for creating these two, and special thanks to @fruitcoops for beta-reading this and being an all-around excellent friend and hype noot. <3

Title: Birds of a Feather Characters: Luke Deveaux, Logan Tremblay Rating: G

(Contains Vaincre spoilers!)

“Luke and I have been running along the river. You know, the Hudson River path? It’s been kinda warm so sometimes we lay out after. There’s a park with grass. It’s nice.” (Logan, Vaincre, May Part Two)

~

They didn’t have a set schedule or anything. It would happen like this: Luke would text him something like “Run tomorrow? Gonna be nice out,” Logan would send a thumbs-up, and they’d pick an access point along the path to meet—sometimes a familiar one, sometimes a new one way uptown or downtown so they could try out a different route. That’s how it happened in the beginning, at least. Now Logan texted first sometimes, too.

Neither of them were runners the way Finn was, both preferring to keep it down to a few easy miles at most. Sometimes they’d stop so Luke could pet a dog, or so Logan could take a picture of the view to send to his boys. It was…well, nice, like he’d told Leo. Grounding. Head-clearing. Nice, too, to hang out with Luke outside of practice, travel and team dinners.

He had other real friends in New York, of course—with Alex, Percy and Will as his teammates, it still kind of shocked Logan just how many friends he had here—but there was a level of understanding with Luke that was unique. Alex and Percy were loud, outgoing, hearts-on-their-sleeves people. Will was a thousand times more patient and level-headed than Logan could ever be. But Luke—Luke was a lot like him. A hundred silent thoughts for every one said aloud. Guarded around new people. Tough shells, Leo had said of the two of them. Logan supposed that was as good a phrase to characterize it as any. He just knew he was thankful for it.

On this particular day—the warmest they’d had since they’d started doing this together—they hooked up with the path near the George Washington Bridge and headed south, flanked by rows of still-blooming cherry trees lining the river. They’d timed it late enough in the afternoon for the crowds of cyclists, families and dog-walkers to have thinned slightly, but with enough daylight left so they could finish before dark. Streaks of orange and pink were starting to paint the sky by the time they reached Riverside Park. They found an empty spot and planted themselves there; the grass was cool on Logan’s skin as he flopped down on his back, only raising his head to take a sip of water before going boneless.

“Do you have a good route in Gryff?”

Logan’s gaze traveled from the wispy clouds overhead to Luke sitting beside him, bent over his own thigh in a stretch.

“Ouais, kind of,” he replied. He liked that Luke never used the past tense when they talked about Gryffindor, about his life there. “I usually go with Finn—he has his favorites. There’s one we do in the old part of the city that’s good. You know the Godric’s Hollow neighborhood?”

Luke nodded, switching to the other leg. “Hazard dragged us to a bakery there on some little dead-end street once.”

An ache Logan was now familiar with pinged briefly in his chest. Race you to the door. Damn, I can smell those croissants. C’mon, Lo baby, I’ll buy you something sweet. “I know the one. Pretty sure he built the route around that bakery. Even when Knutty and I sleep in, he’ll bring us back something.”

It was a relief to not have to pick and choose his words when it came to Finn and Leo. So new, and still so strange. Had there ever been a time before the last few weeks when he didn’t have to worry about implications?

Finished with his stretch, Luke sat up straight and rolled his neck and shoulders a few times before grabbing his own water bottle. “He’s a morning guy, eh?”

Logan nodded. “Annoyingly so. He needs a coffee in one hand and a book in the other just to keep him in bed past eight.”

Luke gave a hum of acknowledgement, then chugged the rest of his water. He was quiet long enough that Logan was about to ask something else, but then Luke, staring out at the water, said, “Saint’s the same way.”

It was a good thing that Logan had already noticed, that he’d already suspected as much, because it was easy to keep his expression neutral. He was surprised, though; not because Luke and Saint were a thing, but because Luke had told him about it.

“He’s a morning runner?” he asked, staying put in his casual sprawl as though no big news had just been dropped.

“No, yoga. Out on his balcony, ass crack of dawn, with this ugly tie-dye bandana on his head.”

Logan laughed, loud and bright, and it startled a little laugh out of Luke, too. “Goalies are crazy.”

Luke’s shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, dropped; his whole body seemed to relax by several degrees, and he smiled. “They’re nuts.”

They both let the lull in conversation stretch for a little while after that. Luke eventually laid down under the waning sun like Logan was, both of them watching the sky as the city provided a familiar soundtrack of birds, dogs, people and distant traffic. Logan thought about how Luke helped make New York feel like a home away from home. About how nice, how necessary, it was to carve out new routines and memories in a place that was so tangled up with his memories of Finn, and how Luke seemed to know that, how he’d been helping Logan do that without ever discussing it. Though, he guessed part of it was that Luke simply wanted to hang out with him because he liked him.

Liked him and trusted him. Logan wasn’t sure how he’d earned that, but he knew he’d do his best to keep it.

And because he liked Luke, too, he had to turn his head on the grass to look at him and find out what the two of them were dealing with, even if it was awkward.

“Do the other guys know?”

Luke shook his head.

“Your families?”

Another head shake.

“Have you talked about it? You and him.”

Luke glanced away, then snapped his eyes back to Logan like he was making himself stick this out. Logan understood that more than he could put into words. “Not really. It’s—a thing, but not…no one’s said boyfriend. It’s not like Black and Lupin. Or you three.”

“D’accord.”

Luke didn’t ask him not to tell anyone. He didn’t need to.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Luke said after a moment.

Logan shrugged. “Not because—I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I think maybe I can see it because I lived it for so long.”

Luke looked like he was taking that in for a second. Logan hoped he got it right. He wasn’t Finn, who always knew just what to say to anyone, or Leo, who made people feel comfortable with the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But Luke nodded, tossed him a stick of gum, and started talking about their upcoming game on Tuesday, so Logan figured he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

They talked hockey until they really started to lose the light, then made their way through the park toward the street, walking fast to keep warm as dusk ushered the spring chill back in. They lived close enough to share an uber, and Luke called one as they reached the curb.

Logan pulled out his phone as they waited; Finn had correctly guessed where he was just from a blurry picture of one of the pink-petaled trees from earlier, and Leo sent a selfie of the two of them with goofy grins from ear to ear and a love you, gonna kiss you in 2 days!!!. He forgot all about the weather, warmed from the inside out at the sight of them. He wanted that for Luke and Saint, too. He wanted it for everyone who still had to hide, who still told themselves they weren’t allowed to have it.

The car pulled up in front of them and, just before they got in, Luke put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Thanks, Tremz,” he said, tone casual but green-brown eyes sincere. “For real.”

“No worries,” Logan said, a phrase he’d picked up from Leo. “Get in, I’m fucking freezing.”

Luke shoved him, then climbed into the car. Logan followed his friend close behind.

[lumosinlove]

On The Line

Part Five

Once again, Logan was on his back with his chest heaving, only this time it was on the hard court, not the clay. After a moment and a brief shadow falling over him, someone lay beside him with a huff. Logan peeked out eye open to see the way the sweat tracked down Leo’s temples.

“Well, damn.” Leo asked. “Lo?”

Logan smiled. He’d picked that up from Finn. Now the nickname came at him from both of them, morning and night. Soft and loud. Finn, hollering from the side of the court. Pick your feet up. Lo! Pick your fucking feet up! Logan wondered if Leo could imagine, or wanted to know, how it sounded when Finn said it in bed. Little breaths of his name every time their bodies drew together. Sometimes Logan lived for those sounds. He wondered what it would sound like as Le instead, which Finn had taken to saying.

“We’re about to be yelled at,” Logan said.

Leo snorted. “Oh yeah. Three, two…”

“Hey, hey,” Finn shouted from court-side. “Did I say you could stop?”

They’d been doing sprints. Logan knew it was good for his game overall, but the sun was hot today, and Leo’s long legs were hard not to look at.

“He thinks he’s so tough,” Leo whispered.

Logan laughed lightly and glanced at Finn, who was walking towards them.

They had to leave in just under a week for New York. The draw had worked out so that, if all went to plan, he and Leo could meet on the court. Logan had been trying to reconcile training with Leo, knowing he’d have to beat Leo, and trying to find the right moment to kiss Leo.

He felt a light kick to his foot. “Hey. Hey, hey.”

“Come here,” Logan sighed, he held out his arms. “It feels good on our backs, the ground’s warm, allez.”

“You want a hug when Leo’s gonna whip your ass in a couple weeks?”

“Ooh,” Leo said. “He’s not wrong.”

Logan groaned at sat up, turning to glare at Leo, who just smiled that sunny smile at him and held up Logan’s hat which had fallen off. Logan snatched it and reached out a hand to Finn.

“Help.”

Finn hesitated and Logan shook his head. “I wouldn’t pull you down with your knee, Rouge.”

Finn’s palm fit into his and helped him up. Logan completed the motion with a push up onto his toes for a soft kiss to the corner of Finn’s mouth.

“Lunch,” Finn said more softly. He curved his fingers through Logan’s hair, feeling how hot it was from the sun. Then, he reached out a hand to Leo. Logan watched their palms clasp as Leo got back to his feet. Finn gave Leo three hard taps to his chest. “You might be able to beat him now. Just you wait, Sunshine.”

“Oh, I’m waiting,” Leo laughed. He mimed tapping a watch on his wrist and began walking towards the house. He turned, arms outstretched. “This place is like a zombie bunker. You could so easily never leave!” He grinned once more, and jogged towards the pool. 

Finn looked at Logan with raised eyebrows. He leaned close as they collected the water bottles.

“Lo,” was all he had to say, slightly pleading, for Logan to nod.

Logan hushed him. Finn’s hair was sweaty when he pushed his fingers through it, ending with his arms looped around his neck. He kissed him hard, and when he felt Finn’s matching grin he knew he’d read his mind. The quick nip to his lip meant he wanted Leo just as bad, and he was also running out of patience.

“We could never leave,” Logan said.

Finn smiled. “It does feel like that.”

It had been difficult to think about the outside world, when Logan had first brought Finn here. Finn had been an anchor, a magnetic field—at Logan’s home the pull of him became ten times stronger. Logan had wanted nothing other than Finn in his arms. Finn between his legs, Finn pressed up against his back. In his memory, those first few days were a swirl of Finn’s laugh and smile, his hands and his body. Evening, easy matches. Hikes up to lookouts. Morning coffee and pastries. Long drives and finding small diners to stop at. Finn’s skin against his mouth, Finn’s needy breaths and low moans. Sweaty sheets and cool showers. Whispers in the kitchen at midnight making toast and box mac and cheese, Finn standing between his legs with Logan on the counter, laughing in the moonlight. It was pleasure so blinding that Logan’s hearing turned cottony and he seemed to regain awareness—woken up?— later with Finn overcome too, his entire weight heavy on Logan’s body, and still inside him. Logan hadn’t known it was possible to feel so close to someone. Curled up and sugary.

Finn was remembering, too. His laugh was soft and whispery as he dipped his kisses down to Logan’s neck. Logan closed his eyes. The sex had been quiet and mindful of Leo lately. Quick, too. Logan liked it drawn out. He wanted to not have to be mindful. He wanted Leo to know exactly what was going on because he was there, too.

Logan knotted his fingers into Finn’s t-shirt and needed so badly he could taste it.

Finn hissed a breath in through his teeth and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders, directing him towards the house. He pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You make me crazy,” Finn said in a low voice.

Logan grinned and locked his arms around Finn’s waist to squeeze.

They ate by the pool, then decided to spend the heat of the day in the weights room and save the rest of their court training for the evening when it had cooled down. Leo was gorgeous shadows and lines in the relief of the bright lights.

Their game would have gone far too long if Finn hadn’t called it. It would have turned into something that tired both of them out rather than helped them. Logan tried to think past all of this and into the future where Leo would be his opponent once again. They were a bit famous for it now, their maddeningly even match ups. Their hours and hours of tennis. Even the crowds get tired, commentators liked to say. Imagine how those two feel!

Except Logan didn’t get tired. Not really. Physically, sure, but in his heart of hearts, he got more riled, more competitive, with every point. The longer it lasted the more he wanted to win. The more glances he stole at Leo, the higher his adrenaline peaked.

Logan rolled his shoulders as he finished up in the master bathroom. He felt good. Pleasantly sore in his shoulders and thighs. Cool in the light AC coming in from the bedroom. He flicked the light off and found Finn with his reading light on and his glasses slid a little down his nose so he could read lying down.

Logan tugged off his t-shirt and threw back his side of the covers. Finn made a pleased sound. He took off his glasses and set his book down.

“Hi,” Finn said as he flicked his light off. “Hi, yay, hi.”

No sooner had Logan leaned back into the pillows than was Finn rolling over and throwing his arm over Logan’s chest. He pushed his nose into Logan’s neck and Logan felt everything in him release. Finn’s quick bursts of kisses to his jaw, his hand running up and down Logan’s abs and chest.

“Hi,” Logan tucked his fingers into Finn’s hair. He reached out to tap Finn’s hip until Finn hooked his leg over his hips, too.

They were quiet for a moment. Just breathing. Logan looked down as Finn’s closed his eyes. He could feel him thinking, about to start the spill of all of his thoughts. He traced light fingertips over the scar on his knee. It was as familiar to him as anything now. White with age and raised under Logan’s touch.

“I don’t know why,” Finn mumbled. “But that always feels really nice.”

“I know,” Logan said.

Finn’s laugh felt rumbly against his chest and Logan squeezed him tighter.

“You know this is my favorite part of every day,” Logan whispered. “Right?”

Finn picked his head up to look at him. “This is?”

Logan brushed a thumb over the indent his glasses left on his nose sometimes. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.” Finn pushed himself up on an elbow, eyes delighted. He leaned forward for a soft kiss, nudging their noses together.

“I love your nose,” Logan whispered. Freckles. Pointed. Glasses-imprinted. “Regarde moi.”

“I am looking at you.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “I knew you understand me more than you say.”

Finn just leaned forward and bit gently at Logan’s jaw. “I am always looking at you.”

“This is my favorite thing in the world,” Logan said. “This. And—we want Leo.”

“Mhm,” Finn grinned into another kiss. “When did we get so greedy?”

Logan laughed but put a hand to his face to keep him where he could see him. “Finn.”

“I’m listening,” Finn said. “I’m getting hard, but I’m also listening.”

Logan pressed a hand over Finn’s mouth and Finn kissed his palm, bit at his pointer finger. Finn’s brown eyes looked at him over his own tan knuckles, scraped up from a brush with the hard court.

“Wanting Leo isn’t because you’re not enough for me,” Logan said. Finn blinked in surprise, lips parting. “You’re everything to me.”

“Oh,” Finn said softly. He pushed further up on his elbow. “Baby…I know that.”

“I know you probably would,” Logan said. “But I wanted to tell you anyway.”

“You too,” Finn said. “You know that. When I first met you, I would have never thought I’d get to…” He looked down at their bodies, intertwined.

Logan nodded. “Ouais. But…you tell me these sorts of things all the time. I just…” He shrugged, smiling a little. “This is the best part of my day.” He closed his eyes when Finn pushed their foreheads together. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Finn whispered, and his kisses turned to waterfalls down Logan’s cheeks and neck. “Love you, love you…”

Logan closed his eyes and basked in it.

“Do you think,” Finn whispered. “This could be Leo’s favorite, too? Some day. Soon.”

“What, hearing you talk and talk and talk…”

“Duh.”

Logan smiled up at the dark ceiling and thought of Leo, just in the other room. “Yeah. I think it could be.”

~

“Out!”

“Non!” Logan pointed his racket at Finn. “That wasn’t fucking out.”

Finn pointed his water bottle back at him. “You gonna lose it at me? Cause if you’re gonna lose it at me, you’re going to have to give me twenty thousand dollars.”

Leo laughed from the other side of the net, his hands up in victory. He had won the mini-game they usually ended practice with. It was about 50/50 between them. Infuriatingly so.

Logan squinted at the betraying line, furious that they weren’t on the clay court and he couldn’t see the ball’s mark as proof he was right. At least, he was pretty sure he was right.

“Does this mean dinner time?” Leo asked. Logan looked over and watched him give his racket a quick spin against his palm. “Cause I love winning and all, but mostly I’m fucking starving.”

Logan just tossed his racket towards Finn, who caught it deftly with a grin.

“Yeah, Le, it’s dinner time,” Finn said. “Where should we take him, Lo?”

“Actually,” Leo spoke up before Logan could reply. He straddled his way over the net with ease. Logan and Finn glanced at each other. Those long legs.

“There’s something I want to make you.” Leo reached behind his head and undid the white cotton band keeping the sweat from his eyes. “Something new. I got the fish from that cute market this morning. Thought we could be outside with the grill, since it’s a nice night.” He raised his brows at Finn. “It’d go nice with margaritas.”

“Well, damn,” Finn said. “You take home to a five-star hotel.”

Leo reached out and flicked the brim of his baseball cap up. “Thanks, Red.”

Logan had to go pick up all their spare balls then, just to hide the look on his face. Not that he really wanted to hide the look on his face. Red. Did Leo know Logan called—of course he did.

“Wow, look at that,” Finn said from the sidelines. “Superstars doing the dirty work.”

Logan looked to see Leo cleaning up his side of the court and laughed. “We’ve been doing your dirty work all afternoon, Rouge.”

Finn narrowed his eyes at him, knowing exactly what he was doing. He waved Logan off with a hand, grinning, and began the trek back up to the house.

Leo met him at the benches near the net. With his own bottle empty, Leo grabbed Logan’s for a long pull. Logan put his back against the chain fence and waited his turn. The neck of Leo’s t-shirt was a damp gray from his sweat.

“Good game,” Logan said, watching a bead join in darkening the color.

Leo held out the bottle for him. “It’s getting easier for you to say that to me.”

“Shut up.”

Leo grinned, hooking his fingers in the chain fence so he could lean over Logan. “When we first met, you couldn’t even tell me your name.”

“You knew my name.” Logan looked up at him, back against the bumpy metal. “You threw food at me.”

Leo gave the fence a playful shake, jostling Logan, then pulled back, bashful. “I got nervous.”

“Ouais, I know.”

Leo just laughed as he turned away. He shouldered both his own and Logan’s bags, and they followed Finn.

Leo fit. Seamlessly. Logan hoped he knew just how seamlessly. Logan looked forward to things he never had before. He looked forward to grocery shopping if Leo was there. He looked forward to runs because there was Leo beside him now with his stupidly long legs and telling him to keep up.

He didn’t like to think about what existed outside of their bubble. He didn’t like it when Leo retreated somewhere to take a phone call from his team.

Just then, it was outside to pace the pool with an AirPod in his ear. Finn was sitting on the sofa with a book and Logan walked around him, tracking Leo’s movements out the window. He did little jumps every once in a while like he was waiting for a serve. He mimed backhands.

“He looks upset.”

Finn turned a page. “You know windows work both ways, right?”

Leo wasn’t looking at him though. He was staring into the dark blue pool water, eyes vacant. He nodded once in a while, argued some, nodded again.

“Finn, what are they saying that makes him look like that?” Logan mumbled.

“That’s not how windows work,” Finn said, and Logan hit him lightly on the back of the head. “Lo, they’re probably talking strategy, business, whatever, it’s not exactly fun. Lucky you, I know you so well I can think like you. Leo’s team might do stuff he’s not exactly happy with.”

“His coach never smiles. Never celebrates.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like it when they tell him what to eat when we take him out to dinner.”

Finn sighed and closed his book. “I know, baby.” He reached out for Logan’s hand, guiding him to sit on the edge of the sofa beside him. “He’s happy here, though.”

Logan jumped, eyes wide. He put both hands on Finn’s chest. “You should take him.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Right. ‘Hi Leo, we would like you to be our boyfriend, also may I work for you?’”

“It worked for us.”

“Yeah…We were naked and in love already, were we not?”

“So?”

Finn laughed, bringing Logan’s knuckles to his mouth. “Little bit different, but whatever you want.”

“I—” Logan looked up when the patio door slid open.

Leo stepped through, snapping his AirPod case closed. He looked far more tight-shouldered than he’d been before.

“Hey,” Finn said, tilting his head back to see him. “What’s up?”

Leo sighed and came to sit on the back of the sofa. “Nothing really. Oh, is it okay that I’m sitting on this, sorry—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course.” Finn took his reading glasses off. “Everything okay?”

Leo thought for a moment, wavering his head back and forth. “They think I’ve been here for too long.” He’d looked at Logan. “Think I’m giving up all my advantages on you.”

Logan knew he’d worried about that, but it just felt plain stupid now.

“I’m not going to suddenly be able to read your mind,” Logan said. “Every shot is different.”

“That’s basically what I said.” Leo rubbed his hands over his face. “And then they were just kind of like, why are you still there anyway, like—haven’t you overstayed your—”

“No,” Finn said firmly. He reached up and put a hand on Leo’s knee. “No, you haven’t. You know you haven’t.”

“I know, but they don’t. They don’t know you two, and they don’t think we’re training as hard as we are.” Leo looked down at Finn. “My Coach really doesn’t like that I’m—” Leo rolled his eyes, “under your thumb.”

“Oh for the love of—no.” Finn tossed his book onto the coffee table. “That’s not true, but Le, I also don’t want to make things bad for you. What can I do to help?”

“Ouais, me too,” Logan said. “I don’t like that he doesn’t trust you.” Because that’s what it was. Leo’s team seemed to think of him as a machine rather than a player. “It’s also—not like you’ve been here for months and months.”

Logan wouldn’t mind though, if he stayed that long. Or forever.

“If I called him?” Finn asked. “We could just sort out that I haven’t changed your training plan at all.”

Leo flashed him a small smile. “Yes, you have.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. How do you feel about how we’ve been training? That’s all that matters.”

Finn asked them these questions every day, but didn’t seem inclined to stop. Logan loved it. How’s that? That feel okay? Got one more rep in you?

Leo always looked so taken aback by Finn asking him what he wanted. Sure, Finn told them to sprint, to run a drill again, pushing them harder and farther, but there was the flip side of jogging over to them with water, breaks to jump in the pool, or how’s that ankle that was bothering you doing today?

“Finn…” Leo said now. He looked out the window, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve never felt better.”

“Good,” Finn said. “Well, that’s something your team should know.”

“If I tell them that, it will just piss them off.”

“It’s not about them,” Finn said. “Seriously, I’ll take that bullet for you. They can’t touch me. Want me to speak with them?”

“He’s really good at talking to people,” Logan added. “I’m horrible at it.”

Leo laughed. He had a hand pressed to one of his cheeks, blue eyes bright and glancing between them. “He can get pretty mean.”

“What’s the worst he can do? Hang up on me?” Finn shrugged. “Good for him.”

“Really?” Leo asked softly. “I…” He nodded, short and sweet. “Okay. Thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

Finn clapped his hands together and send Leo a smile. “I’ll go before dinner. Be right back. I have some other stuff to check on anyway.” He swung his legs down to the ground around Logan and kissed him on the cheek. As he walked around the back of the couch, he took a surprised Leo’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek, too.

“Oh,” Leo said, laughing.

Finn grinned. “See you in a bit.”

Behind Leo’s back, Finn sent Logan a wink.

Leo let himself fall down onto the couch while Logan settled himself into the warm spot where Finn had been. 

“You found yourself a good one,” Leo said after a moment. “A really good one.”

“Ouais. I try to deserve him.”

Leo kicked at Logan’s shin in a way that was probably meant to be protesting but only tangled their legs together. “You do deserve him. You’re a good one, too.”

“So are you,” Logan said. A small, sharp hit of fear bloomed right in his chest. “Leo?”

Leo tilted his head. “Logan.”

“You’re not seeing anyone. Right?”

The question seemed to take Leo by surprise. He straightened up a bit. “Am I—no. No, I’m not. Why?”

Logan could feel his face getting hot. He looked down at where he and Leo’s socked toes were touching. That shouldn’t make his heart pound as hard as it did. “Just—If there was someone missing you, I would be—um. Sad.” Logan shifted, then realized Leo could probably feel it every time he moved and tried to hold still, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Leo stared at him. Slowly, his mouth pulled into a bashful smile. “Well…No one misses me. But sounds like maybe you…would?”

“We would.”

“Is that why you keep wiggling your toes at me?”

Logan’s laugh took him by surprise and he squeezed his eyes shut, head falling against the couch. When he looked again, Leo was smiling at him. He wiggled his socks and Logan did it right back.

While Finn disappeared to the office, they started on dinner. Finn would probably make a few dinner reservations for when they were in New York, too—Logan hoped for three people. They’d see Finn’s family and hopefully Logan would take his matches all the way and…maybe come back to the hotel at night with Finn and Leo both waiting for him? Or, if he was knocked out, he’d get to sit in the stands with Finn’s hand on his thigh and watch Leo take it all the way home.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?”

Logan looked up from where he was supposed to be shucking corn for Leo. He had a paper grocery bag between his knees and some corn silk sticking to his calves. He pulled off another smooth green husk.

“Nothing,” Logan said. “Just always feels like a lot, thinking about traveling.”

Leo was wearing one of those blue shirts that matched his eyes perfectly and cutting up some fruit. “All we do is travel.”

“Je sais, but I like being home. I always did, mostly so I didn’t have to talk to anyone anymore or answer fucking questions about why I’m so angry all the time and why I don’t have a coach and why, why, why…”

“Amen,” Leo said, and Logan flicked a smile up at him.

“But it’s different now with Finn with me. He’s…” Logan pulled another husk. “All I did was play tennis and think about tennis. Now I think about…”

“What do you think about?”

Logan laughed, shaking his head. “ That it’s nice being at home. With someone. This has been nice. Right?”

“Lo.” Leo raised his eyebrows and went to take a bowl down from the cupboard. He seemed to know exactly where every little thing in this house was, as deftly as if it were his own. “You know it’s been nice. Really nice.”

Logan looked down, pleased. He messed with a healing blister on his finger from his racket, pressing his nail against the forming callus. Finn would smack his hand away if he saw him doing that—Leo just threw a blueberry at him.

It’s been perfect because you’re here. Logan drew in a slow breath. Maybe he shouldn’t do this without Finn here, but he’d die if Leo didn’t know. I would miss you so badly if you left—

Leo held the bowl out to him, now filled with various fruits. “Here.”

Logan paused, blinking. “What?”

“That’s to hold you over so you don’t steal all my chopping while I start on dinner.”

Logan just stared at it. Leo’s beautiful, tanned fingers. The perfect cubes of mango and watermelon. Bananas. Wedges of orange. There were even mint leaves sprinkled in from the garden.

“Hello?” Leo laughed, giving the bowl a small shake. “Here.”

Logan took the fruit bowl, but he set it down and slid off his counter stool. Leo watched him, confused, as he rounded the kitchen island. Logan pushed up as high as he could on his socked feet, took Leo’s shoulders in his hands to pull him down, and kissed him.

It felt a bit like Finn’s first kiss. A kitchen, not a locker room. Logan hadn’t been simmering with frustration only moments before, but his blood still cooled into an easy river. He’d surprised Leo, he could tell that much from the way he was holding his breath. The way, when Logan broke the kiss just enough to look up at him, his blue eyes were wide. The way Leo let his breath out in a rush and put his hands on Logan’s waist—two warm centers of gravity.

He pulled Logan flush against him in one motion. When Logan sucked in a breath, Leo angled his jaw and turned the kiss warm and needy. Logan knew his head was tilting back, pliant for it, but he couldn’t help it. It felt good. Better than good. Leo’s hands felt massive, and he smelled like the hot sun and rubber of the court.

“Wow,” Leo whispered in between one kiss and another. “After everything, this is what gets me a Logan kiss? Fruit bowl.” Another kiss, ducking down so far that Logan should be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. On the court, maybe he clocked other people’s height as a disadvantage for him. Here, it was just plain nice. Preferred. “Fucking fruit bowl beats everything.”

“Everything?” Logan breathed.

Leo smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Logan ended up perched on the counter with his ankles locked around Leo’s waist. It had probably been a couple minutes, but Logan swore the sun had lowered some in the sky. His lips felt kissed raw and he wanted more. He wanted to wake up with that nice redness on his jaw like he got from Finn’s scruff. Eventually Leo’s mouth began working just below his chin and Logan had to make a sound, broken low in his throat as it was as he blinked at the warm, dimming kitchen in a daze—and met familiar, toasty brown eyes.

How long Finn had been standing there, Logan didn’t know. He was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks and ears were pink and his lips looked shiny from being bitten.

As Finn rubbed a thumb against his bottom lip, he looked back at Logan, even when Logan ducked to get at Leo’s neck. He scraped his teeth there, gently, softening it further with a kiss just the way Finn liked. Leo moaned softly and Finn rested his temple against the doorframe like it was too much. Logan never wanted him to look away. He wanted to press himself into Leo’s hips, kiss his salty skin, and keep Finn looking at him like that.

“I know you’re there,” Leo managed to say just before Logan kissed him again. His words turned Logan’s kiss harder, desperate. It felt like he was going to burst with how much he wanted this. How long had he wanted this, even without entirely realizing?

How long had Leo wanted this?

Finn?

“I know you know,” Finn said. His voice was unwavering. Logan didn’t know how he did it, but it sent Logan’s heart kicking, as did Leo’s soft laugh. For the first time in what felt like hours, Leo pulled back and looked down at Logan. Logan reached up, pushing his fingers through his blond hair. He wanted him back that close again, but paused. The sight of him. He looked like he did after a match that went his way. Adrenaline and sun and happiness.

“Sunburned,” Logan said.

Leo shook his head, smiling. “All you.” He turned towards Finn, and Logan rested his head on his shoulder to look, too. Finn looked like he was breathing fast. Logan could see him worrying the inside of his cheek. His brown eyes were dark, mostly pupil, and Logan felt hooked just like he always did when he discovered what got Finn. He likes this, he thought. He really likes this.

“Finn…” Leo swallowed. “Tell me I read all the signs right.”

“The signs?” Finn repeated. He walked forward towards them in strong strides. His fingers pushed gently through Logan’s dark hair, tilting his head back. “There’s your sign. Look at Lo.”

“I’ve been looking,” Leo replied. “Now, I’m looking at you.”

Finn laughed and ran a hand over his face. “What the fuck happened? I left you two alone for not even an hour.”

“Fruit bowl,” Logan said, not that that would explain anything to Finn. Honestly, he felt a little tipsy off of Leo’s kisses alone.

Contrarily, Finn’s lips parted in understanding. “I see.”

Logan scoffed. “See what?”

Finn’s hand was still in Logan’s hair, now at the base of his neck, where he squeezed with a smile. “You’re a pretty intense person to try and understand, but once one can crack your code…” His eyes slid to Leo. “Nice one.”

“I actually wasn’t even trying right then.”

“Trying?” Logan asked. “What do you mean you trying?” He gestured to Finn. “We’ve been trying.”

Finn and Leo exchanged another look in front of Logan. It was the easiest, most exasperated pair of smiles Logan had ever seen. Logan looked between them, trying to figure out what they were beginning to laugh about. Even without knowing, it began to bring a smile to his face.

“Quoi?” he asked, but they didn’t look away from each other. “Hey, what?”

Finn didn’t give him much more room to wonder. His left hand tightened in Logan’s hair, effectively stealing his breath, while his right slid behind Leo’s neck and pulled him in, still laughing. He fit their mouths together like he’d done it a thousand times.

Logan wasn’t sure he was really breathing, watching that. Watching the way Finn kissed. He knew how it felt, he knew how good it was, but seeing it was something else. Seeing it and not being jealous was something else.

He reached out and put his fingertips against Finn’s cheek, his jaw, feeling him kiss Leo, then let his hand fall to press over Leo’s chest. Finn’s palm pressed harder into his neck, and Leo’s hand found his hip again and yanked him right up against him, just as Logan had been, as they kissed. Logan tightened his legs around Leo and pushed his mouth against the cotton of his t-shirt while he watched.

Leo laughed a short, disbelieving breath, his lips parting as Finn’s became more insistent. Leo’s hand pressed into Logan’s thigh, supporting himself, but Logan wasn’t sure he knew just how high up his palm was as his fingers bunched up his shorts.

“Have you two kissed?” Logan heard himself say, because there was no way this could be the first. Had he and Leo looked that good, just now?

Finn took his time answering, Leo chasing his mouth—oh, did Logan ever know that feeling.

“We have now,” Finn finally said.

Leo pressed his hand over his eyes. “What the fuck.”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it took us—”

“It took you long enough!” Leo burst out. “What the fuck, we’ve been flirting our fucking asses off for weeks. For a year. I thought I was just being stupid for a while, but not many married couples flirt back, you know.”

“We’re not married,” Logan said.

Leo huffed. “Well—not technically, maybe.”

Finn dropped Logan another wink, like he had in the living room.

“We flirt back,” Logan said. “But we’re—us. We weren’t sure you’d want…”

“Oh, weren’t we though?” Finn said. “Weren’t we pretty fucking sure?”

“Recently. But before, I didn’t think…”

“Go ahead,” Finn said, at the same time as Leo said softly, “What, Lo?”

Logan looked between them.

“I didn’t think it was allowed.” He reached for Finn’s hand on his neck and took it in his own. Married couple. He touched his ring finger. “I have so much already. I didn’t think I was allowed to want more, that’s…Is—Is…”

“Is this something you can have,” Leo said for him. “Or is it just something you want?”

Logan looked up at him, surprised. “I…”

“If it means anything, I’ve stayed up so many nights with that particular question. Especially recently. And I come to the same conclusion each time.” He tilted his head briefly to rest his temple against Finn’s. “If it wasn’t okay, why would it feel this much like a life that I could have?” He turned his head to look at Finn, jaw sharp, mouth soft. Finn’s eyes darted to each part and plane of his face and Leo swallowed before continuing. “It doesn’t feel like lust. Doesn’t feel like a crush. Believe me, I’ve had both for you two.”

Finn smiled softly, pushing his chin forward for a barely-there kiss.

“Feels like a life,” Finn whispered.

Leo nodded. He turned back to Logan.

“Does that help?” Leo asked, then he dropped his voice and took Logan’s face in his hands. “Did I get it right?”

Logan wanted to try what Finn had tried. He put his chin up and let Leo kiss him soft as paint strokes.

“I think,” Finn said, leaning into them. “You got it word for fucking word.”

Evening would turn to sunset would turn to dusk, and Logan needed this night to stay as long as it could. Leo let him down from the counter and held him tight against his body for a moment. There was something sharp in the point of Finn’s canines when he smiled at them, and when Leo pulled away to start on dinner, Finn’s hands found Logan’s hips and he pulled him backwards, back flush against Finn’s chest. He kissed Logan’s neck over and over and over.

“Game,” he said between each kiss. “Set,” he said, and Leo began to laugh, getting it. “Match.”

“You think you’re the winners here?” Leo looked them up and down and gestured to himself. “I won.”

“Mm, non,” Logan said. “It’s definitely us.”

Leo pulled back on his smile, turning to the pantry.

“Chop this for me, O’Hara,” Leo said. “I’m still cooking you dinner.”

Finn caught an onion Leo tossed against Logan’s chest.

“You want to…eat?” Logan asked.

Finn laughed. “Why, did you have some plans?”

Logan thought of those kisses. Leo’s hand on his thigh. “Ah…Non.”

With his free hand, Finn pushed two fingers into Logan’s jaw to turn his head for a real kiss.

“You sweetheart,” he whispered.

Logan reached up to flick his cheek. “I feel like I missed a large part of this game.”

“You didn’t miss any of it,” Leo said, pushing the silverware drawer closed with his hip. “You maybe were a little oblivious sometimes.”

Logan spluttered as Finn slapped his ass then stepped away to take a cutting board down and pull a knife from the block. “To what?”

“Mostly a whole lot of Leo-Finn eye contact,” Finn said, and sliced in. “Oh Jesus, I’m gonna cry. Thanks for the worst job.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Come here.” He kissed him, quick. An every-day kiss. Finn pumped his fist in victory and Leo rolled his eyes.

“Eye contact?” Logan asked.

“Yes, Lo,” Finn said. “Once I was for sure you were on board—oh fuck, here it comes.” He pressed an elbow over his face. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow.”

Logan walked forward and pulled Finn’s arm away. His eyes were all teared up, turning the brown to syrup. “Once I was on board—”

“He basically gave me the green light with those brown eyes of his,” Leo said. “I mean, not so many words were spoken, but actually,” Leo pointed a fork at Finn. “You kissed my neck in the pool one day.”

“Yes…” Finn sniffed, eyes closed. “I lost some willpower for a second, sorry.”

“Well, no, don’t be sorry,” Leo said.

Logan reached up and wiped a tear from Finn’s cheek. The onion was beginning to sting his eyes, too and he squeezed one shut to look at Leo.

Leo laughed. “Oh my God, look at you two. Hopeless. Okay, here, one second.”

He disappeared through the doorway to who knew where.

“I think he knows this house better than me,” Logan said.

Finn blinked down at him, Logan sniffled and tried to look up at him, but eventually Finn laughed, gave up and closed his eyes against the burn. He pressed their foreheads together instead.

“Did that really just happen?” Finn whispered. “I love you. Way to go, Tremblay.”

“It was easier than I thought. I didn’t know he was so—wanted us, too? I was worried he didn’t. Or wouldn’t. Or not as badly as we…”

“Oblivious.”

Logan punched Finn in the arm. “I’m not.”

Finn pulled back and looked down at him. He wiped at Logan’s damp cheek.

“Look at you,” Finn said. “How could he not want you?”

Logan leaned forward onto his toes, palms flat on Finn’s chest. “What was that about me having codes?”

“Grumpy until Finn kisses you.” Leo strode back into the kitchen as he spoke. “Irritable until someone brings you food after a workout. Happiest when someone is touching you somehow—but you’d never admit it—and always, always, worried,” he stopped in front of Logan, “about the people you love.”

“That’s not a code,” Logan said.

“It is when you need to know what you’re looking for,” Leo said.

“Looking for? Looking for when?”

Finn tighten his arms around Logan’s waist. “When you’re hoping to make the legendary, tough-as-nails Logan Tremblay melt in your arms.”

“Been there,” Leo said.

“Done that,” Finn added.

They clasped hands like they did sometimes on the court and Leo held up three objects. “Candles. For the onions.”

“I have candles?” Logan mumbled. He couldn’t imagine where they had come from.

Before he could really blink, Finn had dimmed the lights and there were five candles set up around the kitchen, giving it a soft glow. Onions were sizzling soft and fragrant in a pan along with oil and mushrooms. Logan felt a little dizzy. Finn put his hands on Leo’s hips to step behind him and mimed forehands to him when he handed him objects like a zucchini to chop or a wooden spoon. Logan stayed on his counter stool, making his way through the fruit and leaning back into Leo’s chest when he came over to wrap his arms around him from behind.

They moved out to the patio and pool when it was time for the grill, leaving behind the pleasant, smoky smell of blown-out beeswax in favor of charring vegetables and fish. The sun had turned the world and its pool reflection orange and Finn put a glass of white wine in his hand. Logan’s mind turned slow, watching the way Finn slipped his arm around Leo’s waist. He wouldn’t stop touching Leo, and Logan wasn’t sure how, but it felt like he could feel every slip of Finn’s fingers over Leo’s back and shoulders. At one point, when there was nothing left to do, Leo turned quick and pinned Finn against the stones of the house to kiss him—they were the harder kisses of a late, hot night, and stood stark in the lingering sunlight they were bathed in now. Finn looked over at him while he was catching his breath, Leo having left him with a smile to go plate their dinner.

Wow, Finn mouthed at him, and Logan had to rest his cheek in his hand just to feel how hot it was.

The solar lanterns went on around them as they sky turned to purple and blue. Logan was hungry, a deeper sort of hungry. Their empty plates stacked on the table in front of them and Leo’s mile-to-go tanned legs were stretched out and crossed on the table. Logan maybe looked at them for too long, because when he looked up, Leo was watching him.

“One more code,” Leo said. “Quiet Logan.” Leo raised his eyebrows at Finn for answers.

“Furious or horny,” Finn said. “Occasionally both.”

“I’m not furious,” Logan said, just to be difficult.

Leo let his head rest back against the canvas cushion of the patio couch. “Oh, no?”

“Non.” Logan finished off the last sip of his wine and looked into the glass. “What did the other eye-contacts say?”

Finn’s arm stretched behind Leo along the back of the sofa, and Leo’s eyes flicked up to look at him.

“Lots of silent conversations, you and I,” Finn said. He curved his wrist to tussle with the golden ends of Leo’s hair.

“Hm.” Leo thought. “First it was Finn making eyes at me and me trying to be, like—is this in a gross cheating way or—but he’s Finn and you’re you and he’s obsessed with you so there was no way.” He pointed his glass towards Logan. “I mean, then you started making eyes. But I also kind of thought you just kind of…”

“Stare really hard at everyone he looks at,” Finn finished.

“Exactly.”

“What?” Logan cut in.

“In a cute way!” Leo said hurriedly. “It’s also really hot. I mean, not across the court—across the court it makes me want to strangle you.”

Logan couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I make you want to strangle me? You do the annoying shirt thing before every serve!”

“What annoying shirt thing?” Leo asked.

Finn laughed. “Lo, baby, that’s not so much annoying as it is…frustrating.”

Logan just stood up and picked up the hem of his shirt, pretending to wipe sweat up his face. “As if we need you to flash your stomach every two seconds.”

Leo looked delighted. “Oh, you don’t like that?”

“It’s not needed,” Logan said, crossing his arms and moving to stand in front of Leo. “It’s a distraction. I mean, who are you Sascha Zverev?”

Leo narrowed his eyes, obviously biting back a smile.

Finn had his knees spread, relaxed as he looked up at Logan, too. “Furious and horny.”

Without sitting up, Leo flatted his hand low against his stomach and pushed up the hem of his shirt, revealing a light sprinkling of blond hair and his tanned, toned stomach. “Now that you told me, I guess I’ll have to stop using it on the court. Unfair advantage and all that.”

Finn hummed and reached forward. He hooked a palm behind Logan’s closest thigh and pulled, sending Logan forward and straight into straddling Leo’s lap. Logan caught himself, hands on Leo’s bare skin. It had sent both of their breaths out of them in a rush. Leo was grinning, almost too widely, and panting through a light laugh. His hands curved over Logan’s lower back. Finn leaned back again and took a sip of his wine.

Leo was warm beneath him, and he didn’t seem to mind the weight so Logan let himself relax, sinking off of his heels and fully onto his lap. Leo squeezed his hips in reply.

“This is much better than eye-contact,” Leo said, but the last syllables were quiet and jumpy because Logan had started pushing his palms up his chest, under his shirt. He flipped his palms up and gripped the fabric. Leo didn’t need him to say anything. He sat forward enough for Logan to pull it over his head. The gold chain he wore spilled like water back to his throat, but Logan only had a moment to look before Leo was doing the same to his shirt. Logan shivered at the feeling of Leo’s hands on his bare ribs. Blue, blue eyes met his. Leo’s face held a timid, burning fire. He breathed in, trying to press into his hands, and Leo’s fingers slotted into the spaces in between seamlessly.

Logan looked at Finn. He had set his glass down and had that hand resting low on his stomach, thumbing the band of his shorts. He arched a brow at Logan.

Leo, when Logan found his blue again, was breathing more shallowly now, lips parted. He liked feeling Leo breathe beneath his hands. He liked being able to see where the sun touched his skin.

Logan leaned forward slowly, holding Leo’s gaze, before ducking his head to take that gold chain between his teeth. He pulled gently until Leo’s head tilted back for him, baring his neck, and then pressed his lips there right over a pounding beat.

“Huh,” Leo breathed. “That belonged to my grandfather.”

“D’accord,” Logan said, pressing his lips over the metal, now warm. “What do you want me to do, thank him?”

Leo’s laugh was loud and breathless. Heat spiked through Logan’s entire body when he felt Leo’s hand, large and warm, cup the back of his neck. “God, Logan.”

Logan pulled back to look at him, leaning into his hands. “What’s my code now?” Logan pushed his hips down and watched Leo’s eyes flutter shut then open again. “What am I thinking now?”

Leo just laughed and pulled Logan to him.

Warm. Leo’s mouth was warm and sweet with the wine. Something pushed against Logan’s shoulder and the world went a little lopsided. Logan though it was just Leo’s kiss making his head spin until he felt his back hit the soft cushions of the couch and realized it had been Finn pushing them. He laughed into Leo’s mouth, letting his lips drag down his neck, and opened his eyes to see Finn kneeling beside them.

Finn looked like he had looked in the kitchen, flushed as he leaned forward to kiss Logan quiet again, only dragging his mouth out of Logan’s reach to kiss Leo.

“Your knee,” Logan panted. “Don’t—” He broke off, watching them kiss. “Don’t kneel like that…”

Finn didn’t reply, but Leo made a concerned sound and pulled back.

“O’Hara,” he said sternly.

“Well, then get me off the floor.”

“You pushed,” Logan said.

Finn rolled his eyes and stood up with a groan. Logan hooked an elbow around his legs, keeping him there so he could press kisses to the scar. When he looked up, mouth on his skin still, Finn looked more flushed than before. Logan thought it was him, but then he noticed Leo’s hand, pulling at the strings of Finn’s shorts.

Leo’s teasing smile brought Finn sinking towards them, but Logan wasn’t sure which one of them kissed Leo first.

Time pinned and froze. A note on a door in Finn’s handwriting that Logan might’ve just kept forever. One of Finn’s steamed-up hearts traced through windows at him. Logan wanted to sign his name on the scene in front of him. He wanted to magnet it on a fridge, wanted Finn to seal it on that bulletin board he kept in the office with all of their plans. He wanted to fold it up and keep it in his wallet. He wanted a video, a grainy one that would smudge Leo’s blue eyes as he looked up at Finn with his fingers digging into his pale hips.

It was finally dark outside, and Logan wanted to relive the way the three of them had stumbled through the house a thousand times. Finn pushing Leo against a doorframe, Leo stopping Logan with his arms wrapped tight around his waist to kiss him until Logan felt he’d have to ease them down to the floor right there. Finn’s heaving chest in the light coming in through the moon with Leo gasping beneath him was a movie in itself. Logan didn’t know what to do with himself half the time. He ran his fingers over every inch of skin exposed. Kissed the sounds out of Leo’s mouth, watched Finn’s face in a way he’d never gotten to before. He was gorgeous like this, shoulders braced with his hands sinking into their bed, red hair sticking to his temples. Sitting up and back in a way that made Leo’s back arch and let Finn pull Logan under one arm. It wasn’t a kiss he got from Finn exactly, more like he was using Logan to try and catch his breath, to steady himself.

Logan let his eyes slip closed and turned blindly for Finn’s mouth. He felt Leo’s hand on him and reached down to hold his wrist, just to feel the way it moved. Quick and sure with his strokes as he was on the court. When he stretched out along Leo’s side, he could feel the snap of Finn’s hips in the way Leo’s body shivered. They had been giddy earlier, laughing and tumbling, but at one point Logan had been pinned so tight between their bodies that the laughter broke in his throat and some sort of fever had lit inside him. He needed closer and again. He needed them kissing each other over his shoulder and feeling like he’d been drenched over his head in something this sweet smelling.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He swung his leg over Leo’s hips and was up, balanced on Leo’s chest. His world was Leo’s voice, oh, Lo, yes, yes, and Finn’s chest to lean back on once the two of them sent Logan sinking again, plunged him into his own personal, warm, weightless, sea.

Next he knew, their breathing sounded as rhythmic as the AC, and Logan was on his side, but he was sure, somehow, that his head was at the wrong end of the bed. He was warm, though, perfectly so, like someone had thrown the comforter over him. He opened his eyes and found Finn beside him, on his back. He was panting hard, chest rising and falling quickly, and Logan tried to piece out exactly what had made him like that. He meant to lay his palm on Finn’s heart, just to feel, but his muscles didn’t quite obey and he ended up slapping it there, making Finn jump.

“Jesus fuck,” Finn said. His breathing paused as he swallowed around a dry throat, then took up again. His hand covered Logan’s. “Hi. Hi, baby.”

“Leo?”

“Ya,” Leo’s voice came, somewhere from the head of the bed so Logan had to raise his head. He was in a mess of pillows, bare and breathing as hard as Finn was. Logan frowned at him. He felt as calm and serene as morning waters.

“You might have missed some action at the end there,” Finn read his mind. “But you looked so peaceful and…and I just needed…” Finn looked down the bed at Leo and laughed. “Well, that one more time. Jesus, Knut.”

Leo grinned and let his head fall back into the pillows.

Logan pushed himself up onto his forearms and tried to shake some of the fog from his head. He hadn’t been asleep exactly. Just…everything had felt good. The sheets. Their hands. Their sounds. He remembered, now that he was thinking about it, feeling safe with their warm voices right there, their hands on him even as they were drawn together. Finn’s gentle words, separated by kisses Logan hadn’t quite been able to open his eyes to look at. You know you read the signs right. You know you did. We’ve wanted you. You should have seen Lo the first time we really talked about it, I thought he was ready to go and find you right then. The way he lights up whenever you call. The way he quiets on the court when he plays you, you push him so well. I’ve wanted you. I thought I had it all until I watched you walk right up at that ball and ask to dance. Oh my God, you’re brave, you’re brave, of course we want you.

Already, Logan knew when one of them was missing. He could feel it when he woke up sometime later. He heard the bathroom door squeak slightly and opened his eyes. Finn was asleep, rolled onto his other side with the sheets slung low across his hips. Leo had pulled boxers on and was crossing back from the bathroom. Leo saw he was awake and jogged over to him quicker, making Logan laugh and check to make sure he hadn’t woken Finn. When he turned back, Leo was sliding back under the sheets and Logan shuffled over to press close to him. Sharing a pillow like he’d done a thousand times with Finn.

“Your blue eyes look different in the dark.”

“Hm,” Leo whispered back. “Different how?”

“I don’t know, I like it, though.” He ran a hand up and down Leo’s bare side. It was cool, no lingering warmth from the bed. “You’ve been up?”

Leo sighed and shrugged like he was resigned to it. Logan inched closer. This was new.

“I know all about your routines and your days,” Logan whispered. “But I don’t know about your nights.”

“Guilty insomniac here,” Leo whispered, then smiled. “Sure you still want me?”

“Shh,” Logan soothed. “Of course I do.” Leo humphed and pushed his cheek into the pillow, but his eyes did flutter closed as soon as Logan began rubbing his back. “Of course we do…”

“I was mostly joking,” Leo whispered. “I just—I don’t know, something keeps me up.”

“You’re worried about something?”

“No, no,” Leo said. “I mean, sometimes that’s it. Mostly, it’s just—there. I’m just awake.”

“What can I do?” Logan asked. He traced a thumb over Leo’s full bottom lip. “I’ll do anything.”

That soft mouth smiled right into Logan’s touch. “I know you would, sweetheart.”

“Pst, pst, pst, pstpstpstpstssst,” Finn grumbled suddenly, then rolled over to press against Logan’s back, throwing an arm over him to reach Leo. “I’m getting you up for a run at six, go to sleep.”

Leo gasped even before Logan could. “You are not.”

“Now it’s five for talking back.”

“It’s three in the morning right now. We’ve been asleep for two hours.”

“Maybe we should just get up now then,” Finn said, and Logan could feel that teasing grin.

Logan elbowed Finn gently in the ribs. “Go away, no cuddling for you.”

Finn just tossed a leg over them, and Logan watched Leo’s eyes brighten as Finn peppered a dozen hard kisses over Logan’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know how to send me away, nu-uh,” Finn whispered. Logan felt a weak little tug of arousal in his gut, not enough to be urgent, but, God, Finn. Finn would always do Finn things to him. Then, just as suddenly as he’d woken, Finn was leveraging himself over both of them and locking Leo between their bodies. “But my Leo’s not being sleepless, not on my watch.”

“Hm,” Leo said softly, eyes slipping closed. He let Finn tuck his knees up behind his own, let Logan stretch his arm out under his head to act as a pillow instead. “Well…If there was ever a place I could sleep…”

“It’s right here,” Finn whispered, lips against Leo’s shoulder. His brown eyes flit to Logan. “It’s right here.”

“Can I have some of those peppers?”

“What…” Logan and Finn looked at each other. “What peppers?”

“Those,” Leo said softly.

“Peppers,” Finn repeated to himself, then laughed. “Oh, peppers.”

He started slow, placing gentle kisses to Leo’s neck, then got faster as he reached his jaw and cheek.

“Peppers,” Logan mumbled, watching Leo’s pleased smile.

Logan settled a kiss on the corner of Leo’s mouth and blinked in the blinding, rolling urge to tell Leo that he loved him. Now, before their breathing all evened out and he’d have to wait. But Leo was falling into a lull again and Logan didn’t want to ruin that. On Leo’s hip, Finn’s fingers found his and locked tight. Finn squeezed once, twice, brown eyes so dark and deep in the night. Logan squeezed back, hard, finally understanding.

[oneluckygoose]

FinnLo Math

Hi, welcome to Lucky's hyper fixation at the current moment

For the past two weeks I have binge read Sweater Weather, Vaincre, and Coast to Coast by the lovely @lumosinlove and just want to say, Jesus Christ. I have actually fallen in love with O'Nutzy SO HARD and they are amazing and I'm absolutely a slave to Harvard Era FinLo. To @lumosinlove, this is a masterpiece and now I want to watch hockey, you've infected me.

Anyway, with credits out of the way, I did some math, (get ready for Harvard era FinLo math under cut)

*Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and I did not create this story, so everything I say may be completely incorrect. Any of this may be disproven in Breakaway, which I don't/won't have the ability to read. Most of this is based off cannon times and events within the Sweater Weather universe, but I have made clear where cannon ends and my assumptions begin. Again, these are not my characters and all credit goes to @lumosinlove, This is not making fun of, patronizing, or degrading the all around fantastic story they have created, and is simply pointing out things I have noticed.*

Now in Coast to Coast, I noticed some strange things that Finn says. He tells Logan he's been in love with him for eight years, right? And over the course of the story Logan mentions he's loved Finn for 7 at some point (that may actually be in Vaincre, if it is the math lines up so that's a testy point). And when they kissed in part V of Coast to Coast it said it had been four years since they last kissed. This threw me off, because I knew this was, what, early January of 2020 in universe.

So I did some digging. Finn is a year older than Logan, meaning when Logan came to Harvard in 2014 (codified in Coast to Coast part VII, the very start, includes sexy Batman during Logan's first Halloween party at Harvard), he would have been a Freshman while Finn was a Sophomore.

Now it isn't clear whether their first kiss in 2015 was when at the end of the 2014-2015 school year or the start of the 2015-2016 school year (though Logan doesn't have a car, so that lends a little more credibility to Logan still being a Freshman, but it kinda seems like Logan never has a car in general, even in Sweater Weather and Vaincre). I tend to think it's the start of the 2015-16 school year because that's when Finn met Hanna, and those sorts of things don't really carry over after being apart for the summer. Anyway, this means it would be Finn's Junior year.

Now their last kiss before Finn leaves is supposedly in May of 2016, which was part II in Coast to Coast, but that doesn't make sense because it is stated that they are only one year apart,

[I'm pretty sure at least. Later in Coast to Coast it mentions Finn's rookie year and it's said that it was only one (1) really bad year without Logan (same goes for Logan as a senior) before Logan is drafted to the Lions after he graduates. This means they're only one year apart, so the 2016 thing I believe to be wrong]

and if you do the math with Logan being a Freshman in the 2014-2015 school year, he would be a Junior when Finn is a Senior in the 2016-2017 school year (I have a whole timeline trust me on this, it'll be at the bottom). So theoretically their last kiss would have been in May of 2017.

Now their next kiss in in January of 2020. Based off of the very beginning of Sweater Weather, the time period of the fic is the 2019 NHL season, so starting in September, it would be January of 2020 when Remus and Sirius' photos got leaked, right before All-stars, which Logan was going on. The same day the photos are leaked, Finn and Logan kiss for the first time since May of 2017.

If you tally it up, it would be 2 years and 7 months since they had last kissed: Seven months left in 2017, plus all of 2018 and 2019 {Essentially (7+12+12)/12}. Notably, not four years.

[If we are going on the timeline where the last kiss is in 2016, it would be 3 years and 7 months, which would be much more reasonable to say four years; however, that timeline is a little jacked so.]

The other thing that threw me off is Finn saying he'd been in love with Logan for eight years, which I also believe to be wrong.

Finn says to Logan when they are officially getting together in part V of Coast to Coast that he'd loved Logan for eight years, which doesn't make sense if they only just met in August of 2014.

To put it simply, they wouldn't have known each other for eight years. Again, if you tally it up, that's five months in 2014, five years, and then about half a month in 2020. {Essentially (5 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 12 + 1/2) / 12}. Let's just say they've known each other for 5 years and 6 months. Again, not eight years.

There is the concern of not loving each other when they first met, but Finn does say that he had loved Logan since the moment he saw him at the training camps in 2014, which would have been when they first met, so we can disregard any buffer time.

[And I am about 90% sure that August of 2014 was when they first met because during the Halloween party scene in part VII of Coast to Coast Logan talks about how Finn is his "new roommate" and they'd only just met. I could be wrong.]

And about Logan saying he'd loved Finn for seven years, I don't remember if it is in Coast to Coast which ends in 2020 or in Vaincre which goes until summer of 2021. If it is in Vaincre, this is a totally moot point because it's correct for about 7 years, but if it's in Coast to Coast (thinking on it now it may even be in Sweater Weather, either one would be off), then it wouldn't have been 7 years, but anywhere between 5-6 years. I would need to go back and find the part.

Other Interesting Math Things I figured out while Hyper fixating:

Alex O'Hara:

In Vaincre it says that Alex had to come from somewhere other than Harvard to see Finn in the hospital after he had gotten his first concussion, meaning he wasn't attending Harvard at the time. Vaincre also introduces a whole gang of people who were all on the Harvard team at the same time, which included Alex and Logan. So there had to be at least one year where they were on it together, and I assume it's probably Logan's freshman year.

When Finn's concussion happens is never explicitly stated, but I am assuming it's Finn's Junior year based on Finn and Logan's relationship at the time (pinning and extremely reserved while not awaiting Finn leaving (all this is coming from Logan talking about the concussion in Vaincre)).

With all this to say, I can assume Alex was a Senior in the 2014-2015 school year, left to join Florida's team in 2015-2016 and met Kasey down there in their rookie year. (Obviously they proceeded to fall in love as all good O'Hara's do: fall in love with their best friend.)

Leo Knut:

*open's mouth* *closes mouth* *opens mouth again* *looks down at the ground* Leo was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met.

Leo was 18 at the start of Sweater Weather (2019) with a birthday somewhere in Nov-Dec, so theoretically he would have been a Senior in High School the year before. If you just tick back the years, that would put him in 8th grade during the 2014-2015 school year.

Not anything important I just stumbled across it and thought it was worth sharing, may as well make this post longer.

All in All List of Math:

Logan and Finn's last kiss before Finn left for Gryffindor would have been in May of 2017 not 2016

Their next kiss would be 2 years and 7 months later, not 4 years later

Finn and Logan have been in love since they met in August of 2014, meaning they've been in love for 5 years and 6 months, not eight years.

Alex O'Hara shared his Senior year at Harvard with Logan during Logan's Freshman year

Leo Knut was in 8th grade when Finn and Logan met

Timeline

[itsaash]

Hi friends! The podfic for vaincre is inching towards being done, and I want to put a request out into the world. I'm looking for a voice for two characters who lumosinlove has described as being black. It's Layla, who has probably 80 lines (maybe with more to come), and Holly, who has about 5. It would be awesome to recruit a person of color, ideally a black woman, to represent them. If you're interested in voicing them, send me a message and I'd love to have you!

[fruitcoops]

Clean Slate

Ah, the passage of time. If anyone has been here since the first phone call, you may be entitled to financial compensation (or an AARP membership). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Reg?”

On the first ring, as always. “Hey.”

“…hi?”

“I was thinking about going back to Gryff for Christmas.”

“Oh.” Surprise, but pleasant surprise. Regulus shook his pan of sausage. “Yeah, sounds good. You always have a room here. Or were you staying with the cubs?”

“With you.” He stretched his neck from side-to-side. Tension bled out of his forehead and shoulders at the familiar roll of French on his tongue. “If that’s okay.”

“Always,” Sirius answered immediately, almost hasty. Regulus wasn’t sure they’d ever get past that. Ah, well. The damage was done.

The line remained quiet for a moment. Sausage sizzled, and he turned to the pile of green beans on the cutting board. Leo had taught him how to snap the ends off with his fingernails, and though he was better now about not chewing them to the quick, he still didn’t like the feeling of stuff stuck beneath them. Regulus had really only called to clarify plans.

“How—how are your friends?”

“Good.” Sirius liked to talk, even if he wasn’t very good at it. “Jax and Kris set up the living room last night.”

“Do they still have that stupid poster?”

Regulus snorted under his breath and carefully sliced the tip off another bean. “They tried to hang it in the window.”

Sirius groaned.

Regulus grinned. He supposed he could have a little mercy. “Don’t worry, it’s under my bed.”

“Somehow, that’s worse.”

“I can’t get rid of it. It’s their favorite possession. They have a thing for your long hair and the murder face. Jax is still waiting for the day you spontaneously get divorced and need a hot young college student to rebound.”

He wasn’t sure whether the gagging sound Sirius made was real or exaggerated. As long as he was in mild torment, Regulus was happy. A simple, ever-amusing perk of long-distance communication.

“I hope your classmates are less in tune with pop culture.”

“Hockey, yes. Pop culture, no.” Regulus eyed the pan, then added another knob of butter to be safe. There was nothing worse than a burnt vegetable. “And my classes are going well, thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter that Sirius couldn’t see it; the message would certainly get through.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

“I’m not making a face.”

“You always make faces.”

Regulus stuck his tongue out at the microwave above the stove.

“I can feel you doing it again.”

“That was a different one. I’m taking physics 3 this year and it’s making me want to eat a doorknob already.”

“You’re anemic enough that it would probably help.”

“I take my supplements!” Regulus argued, shaking his pan. “Not my fault we were force-fed protein in fucking sun-less Canada.”

“We had sun, you just never went outside,” Sirius countered, like it was some sort of argument. “I don’t have to take supplements.”

“Well, you’re perfect and bulletproof, as everyone knows.”

“Exactly.”

Regulus angled his face at the dark phone screen when he pulled a face this time. It was a good one. Pity that Sirius couldn’t see it. He should’ve gone for FaceTime.

“Are you starting a fire?”

“I’m making dinner.”

“So…yes?”

“Not all of us have a home cook.”

“I can cook now.”

“Oh, you’ve been housebroken.” Regulus blew out a mouthful of steam as he tested a piece of sausage. “How thrilling for Lupin.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one. I learned that last week.”

He could feel Sirius shaking his head. “Knutty is formally banned from teaching you new slang.”

“You’ve never said ‘no’ to him in his entire career.” Regulus let the line hang silent for another half-minute as he turned the burner off and began scraping his dinner into a bowl. It still bore a faint orange tinge from last year’s finals-week spaghetti run. He fished a piece of pasta out of the water and popped it in his mouth, grimacing at the heat on his tongue. It was cooked well enough—at least, he was hungry enough to forgive a more al dente texture.

“By the way,” he started, as if his stomach wasn’t stuttering. “I think I’ll be back in time for family skate.”

The shuffling sounds on Sirius’ end came to an abrupt halt. “That’s nice,” came the faux-casual answer.

Anxiety made a valiant effort to claw up and silence his tongue. “I was thinking about going.”

“Well,” Sirius began, then paused. Regulus swallowed a few times to clear the block in his throat while Sirius pondered. “I—yeah, sounds good.”

“I want to.”

“Good.” Sirius’ relief was audible. “Okay, good. You can change your mind.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” Regulus ordered as he toed his slippers on and made his way to the apartment’s tiny coffee table. They’d get chairs at some point, but for now three pillows sat on the floor beside it.

“I’m never weird.”

“Boo, liar.”

“Freak.”

“I’m telling Lupin.”

“Do it. He likes me better. I can cook.”

“I’m—” Regulus caught himself at the last second and felt Sirius’ breath hitch on the other end of the line in anticipation. “—not joking, I actually want to go and play stupid ice fetch with your irritating friends, and nobody is making me feel pressured.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t sound so…” He wrinkled his nose and stuffed a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. “Smiley.”

“It’ll be good to have you home.”

“If you’re weird, I’m staying with Leo,” Regulus threatened. “For real, this time.”

“Right, because you love being around people who are engaged and anywhere near a holiday, or mistletoe, or the magic of Christmas—”

His loud groan silenced Sirius’ words, but not his laughter. “Get your laughs in now, before I whoop your ass on the ice.”

“Would love to see you try.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled.”

“Everyone else is going to underestimate you. I won’t be nice like that.”

“You’re never nice,” Regulus lied.

Sirius let him eat in peace until he was scraping the last bits of cheese from the bottom of the bowl. He heard the faint beeping of the dishwasher buttons in the background and glanced at his own sink, nearly overflowing with haphazard dishes from the first chaotic weeks of their senior year. The apartment was a pleasant change from living on campus, such as it was. Jax and Kris had offered to pay rent—tried to strongarm him, really—but a few withering looks had finally made them relent. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was his. Theirs.

The string lights lining the ceiling weren’t strictly allowed, but Regulus liked their gentle blue cast. The blanket Remus and Sirius had sent as a housewarming gift sat cozily on the back of their couch. Curtains from Jax’s mother let in just the right amount of light in the mornings.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

The sound of Sirius’ voice in his earbuds startled him. “Yeah,” Regulus said. “Yeah, sure.”

“Even for laundry.” Sirius tried for wry, and it made Regulus crack a small smile, but it was gentler than either of them intended. “Don’t shrink your clothes. Check the tags.”

Always do, he thought, but kept it down. “Good advice. No centipedes here, yet.”

Sirius’ laugh was a little weak. “You’re just not looking hard enough.”

“Eugh, don’t say that.” Regulus blinked fast, tipping his head toward the ceiling. “Hey, this washer even has a ‘normal’ setting, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, wow. Lucky you.”

Picking up the phone on the first ring, always. For four years straight. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“We can come up in October, if you want.”

Of course Sirius had the academic calendar on-hand. “I’ll be gone that weekend with the guys. We didn’t want to be around all the new parents. They’re very damp.”

“And you melt when water touches you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Sirius let out a quiet breath. “See you at Christmas, Reg. Call me when you have flights.”

“Mhm.”

“Stay safe.”

“Always do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do here,” he corrected.

“Fine.”

“Miss you.” The streetlights down the road were just starting to come on. “Say hi to Lupin for me.”

“He’s in the other room,” Sirius offered. “You can say it yourself.”

“I’ll talk to you both enough at Christmas.”

“Call any time. And let us know when you hear back about graduation tickets.”

What a terrifying thought to leave for the end of the call. “I’ll forward it to you.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Okay. Bye.” And before he could second-guess himself—“I’ll be home soon.”

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Sirius answered. Regulus heard the truth under it. “And do your laundry.”

[clickoly]

Fic-O-Ween - Day 12

Many thanks to @noots-fic-fests for the header and the fantastic fest! And to @lumosinlove for these beautiful characters 🧡

The year was 1464, in the European capital of the Renaissance, when a young artist and a man destined to Magnificence fell in love, challenging their destiny. 

Pairing: FinnLo Rating: M, but it's very lightly seasoned Watch out for the final line: this isn't quite a happily ever after (yet)

Finn had been staring at the canvas for far too long. The sun had risen high in the sky, and the bright rays streaming through the window cast the perfect shadows over his work in progress. 

Why did everything feel so blurry?

The verdigris pigment he'd mixed on his palette was too bright, the malachite wasn't enough. And the half-painted eyes of a young Dionysus were staring right back at him. 

"I know," Finn sighed. He was tapping his chin with the handle of a brush in an uneven rhythm. "I am being dramatic," he muttered to no one in particular. Alex always made fun of him for that. He looked around, still unsure of what he was searching for, what he was missing. Between empty wooden panels, endless sheets of paper and the pungent, earthy smell of tempera paints, a revelatory answer was nowhere to be found. Another exasperated breath escaped his lips, "Perhaps a hint of blue?"

"It must be some serious commission if you're talking with yourself." 

Finn jerked towards the front door. 

"Again, dare I say."

"Ah," he began, then had to stop to steady his breath. He bit back what must have been a foolishly smitten grin. "Blame my Muse," Finn opted for a mocking smile instead, as playful as the voice that had just enlightened his soul. "Gone so long, I'm afraid I have lost my touch," he gestured to the unfinished portrait. "And perhaps some sense." 

The nest of Logan's curls shook in a scolding nod. Slowly, savoring each step, he closed the too vast, one month-long distance between them, holding out a hand as his eyes darted across the painting. "Dionysus, I see.”

Finn let go of his instruments and reached out, catching Logan's hand a little shakily. God, had he missed him.

"Isn't he fascinating?" he said, turning to admire the interplay of colors as well. "The most delicate balance between hedonism and chaos, abundance and intoxication." 

"Wine and sex," Logan paraphrased. He made Finn laugh—real and spontaneous as only he could. "Sounds fun."

"Uninhibited and wild. Sounds familiar," Finn teased, leaning down to kiss the back of Logan's hand, whose warmth enveloped him. 

"He looks familiar," Logan countered, closely focused on the details of Finn's artwork. Dark hair, curling beneath a crown of verdant grapevines. Full, red lips drawn into a delicate smile, the arch of a perfectly shaped bow. A muscular, artfully proportioned body, the immortal and timeless beauty that belonged only to gods. Finn hadn't exactly tried to be subtle about it. 

"It's missing something unique, though," he whispered as he turned to cup Logan's jaw between his chalk-stained hands. He brushed gentle thumbs along the sharp contours of his cheeks, already lost in the brilliance of the rarest gems he'd ever laid eyes on. "Oh, never mind." 

The most perfect shade of green.

"Found it," he breathed out against Logan's lips and brought their mouths together in a tender kiss. "Hi, angel. You came back to me." 

Logan's smile blinded him—the slightest hint of bashfulness just there, the soft blush on his olive skin, never fading away, even after such a long time. "Always," Logan mumbled into another kiss, pulling Finn close as if to never let go. "And I brought a surprise." 

"For me?"  

Logan hummed softly and let Finn brush their noses together with feathery strokes. "But you have to follow me first." 

"Where?" Finn prompted, leaning back enough to twirl a finger in the perfect lock of hair that fell over Logan's forehead. He couldn't help it—the wave of anticipation hit him hard, burning wildly in his chest. He would have followed Logan to the edge of the world, through hell and heaven, to faraway lands unknown to mankind. 

And judging by the look of devotion that spread across his face, Logan was well aware of that. It didn't stop him from playing the little banter that was theirs to live in—a breath of fresh air, a safe place to revel. He pinched Finn's waist, amusement now filling his crooked smile. "I'm not telling you." 

And then Finn had to worry, just a little. Because Logan had probably been traveling for days and he looked exhausted and in desperate need for sleep. He wanted to hold him in his arms, to erase the tired furrow from his brows and let him glow in his celestial beauty. 

"Are you sure?" he leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Don't you need some rest?" 

Logan just grabbed the collar of Finn's shirt and captured his lips in a fierce, biting kiss. "The only thing I need right now is you."

The ride into the countryside had felt timeless—up to the browned hill that rose just outside the ancient city walls. Though it must have been a brief journey. Side by side, riding their horses along golden paths, restless hands finding each other again and again in swift touches, brushing against the crisp air. 

The vibrant greens and browns of endless vineyards and terraces of majestic olive trees set the perfect backdrop for Logan's strong features against the afternoon light. Behind them, the outlines of a fading Florence, whose monumental beauty was inescapable, perfectly framed Logan's tales of his latest trip to France, spilling forth like leaves caught in the gentle winds of autumn.    

Oh, the sea. You would have loved Marseilles. I must take you there, my love. 

Yes, French wine is good, but it would taste better on your lips. 

Mais oui. I will teach you all the new words I have learned. 

I missed you too. 

I don't want to leave you for so long ever again. 

Sometimes it was days, more often weeks, of duties to fulfill somewhere too far away. Leaders to befriend, alliances to forge. The fourth and youngest child of the Tremblay family, the leading voice of the Republic, had to learn the ropes of the family business alongside his older sisters. A kind soul in thick armor, Logan was a powerful, beloved statesman to the people of Florence, a Cupid's favorite to the greedy eyes of wealthy and charming suitors all over Europe. And a devoted, passionate lover to Finn O'Hara.

Logan had more than once called them a life worth cherishing. But was the undying love of a young artist enough for such a privilege? 

At a loss for real answers, Finn knew only one truth. Then, in the midst of pristine, whistling nature, they fell in love for the umpteenth time. There, in a boundless corner of a rusty heaven, Finn allowed himself to be just a man, drowning in the glorious lust of two bounding souls.

~

A small palmate leaf, dried-out of its bright colors, fell silently on Logan's sleepy head, nestling in his messy curls. It broke the peace of his even breathing when Finn's graceful fingers reached out to brush it away, and down Logan's face in feathery patterns where it wasn't pressed against his bare chest. 

At the first hint of movement, Finn turned his head to press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cold nose. 

"Did I fall asleep?" Logan murmured hoarsely. Slowly, groggily, he stirred against Finn's body and squeezed his arm tighter around him. 

"Last I checked, those pretty eyes of yours were very much closed."  

A grunt of disagreement rumbled against Finn's skin, "No—it's your fault. It's so warm in here."

And it was. A cocoon of blankets and intertwined bodies beneath a clear sky and a fresh breeze. 

"Can we stay?" 

"As long as you wish," Finn promised. 

"What about you?"

Finn rolled slightly onto his side and rubbed a hand up and down Logan's back under the thick wool. "What about me?" 

Logan squinted one eye open, "I can hear you thinking out loud." 

"Sketching," Finn corrected. "I got my Muse back, after all." 

Logan tentatively smothered his ticklish smile down Finn's pale neck. When he finally pulled back and blinked his dream-laden eyes open, it was to reach sneakily behind their heads and grab Finn's notebook from his satchel. "Show me," he settled back into Finn's waiting arms. "I want to see everything I've missed."

Curled up in his touch, Logan flipped through pages of black carbon sketches and rivers of disorganized notes while Finn told him stories about those faces, landscapes, anonymous bodies whose proportions he had been meticulously studying and trying to replicate for months. 

As expected, Logan lingered over the outlines of a portrait, the first messy, smudged draft of one of his latest commissions. "Is that Adonis?" He asked, somehow in awe. 

Finn stifled his laughter with a loud kiss on Logan's burning cheek. "That's what I thought when I first saw him. But this man? Oh, he was even better. Imagine..." he said dreamily, tracing a light finger along the darkest lines of his drawing. "A tall, young, cherubic angel with deep, cerulean eyes walking into my studio..." 

Finn felt Logan press closer to him. "Who is he?"

"His name is Leonardo. He came all the way from Venice to Florence in search of a manuscript," Finn said wonderingly. "Actually, he was on his way to the Apostolic Library. He's a philologist, and he's working on translating fragments of a Greek poetess whose work is quite unknown. He left for Rome a few days ago." 

"Hm," Logan grumbled. "And what could he possibly be doing in your studio?" 

An amused smile played on Finn's lips. "He asked if I could draw him and paid me to pose for a portrait. He wanted a small memento of his time in Florence and said my art sounded like the notes of a lyric poem." 

Another wave of delight washed over Finn as Logan lifted himself up on one forearm and pinned him to the ground with a piercing look. "It does," he whispered softly, leaning in to brush their mouths together. "And so do you." 

Glittering sparks simmered inside Finn, and Logan's kisses burned like oil on a living flame, explosive, so consuming that he felt he had no air left to breathe when Logan suddenly pulled away. "Wait here," he said faintly, leaving Finn shivering at the loss of contact. 

Logan slipped out of the intricate tangle of sheets they had bundled themselves in and stood up—a perfectly sculpted marble statue, glowing in the golden light the sun was casting all over the hard planes and hills of his body. He walked barefoot to the horses, peacefully resting in the shade of a tree. He carefully took something from his saddlebag, and ran with three long strides back to Finn, where they sat together with their legs crossed.

Finn draped a blanket over their shoulders and wrapped them in a gentle embrace. "You're going to catch a cold," he scolded, just as he noticed the small velvet pouch in Logan's hands. "What is it?" 

Logan simply looked at him for a few moments, motionless, a whole world flashing behind his glazed eyes. "Did I ever tell you how much I love this time of year?" 

"I think the first time you did, we were thirteen," Finn laughed, but let his eyes wander around, imagining what Logan might actually feel in front of such a special blend of colors. He wanted the same emotions to strike him as much. "But you never told me why." 

Logan smiled, a tender, shy curl of his full lips. "It feels like home," he said, drawing a long breath as he lovingly caressed Finn's face, "where there's warmth to look at...to look for when it's cold outside. This," he nodded to a pile of reddish leaves under an almost bare beech, "feels like nature showing us the beauty of hope when everything is falling down. And you," Logan whispered, wide eyes locked with Finn's, struck by golden strings. "It always feels like there are pieces of you everywhere." 

Finn found himself with only a thin thread of voice, trembling. "Logan." 

"Here," Logan handed him the pouch. It was dark green, the fabric smooth, and it felt almost empty to the touch, were it not for a small, round object at the bottom. Finn deftly untied its strings when Logan added, "This is your surprise." 

"Another one? Is it better than this?" He looked around at the private, dreamlike spot Logan had found for the two of them. "Are you trying to spoil—oh." 

On Finn's palm landed a perfectly polished band of gold. Set in the metal, brighter than a starry night, were three dazzling, fiery rubies. 

Logan took the ring between his fingers and Finn's hand in his own, all the while Finn couldn't form a coherent thought that wasn't What did I do to deserve you?

"I asked the jeweler of the King of France himself. I wanted something special made just for you, and this saintly man—Pascal, he said was his name. He listened to me," Logan gave a soft laugh, "rambling on about the love of my life for longer than any good man should endure. And he made this," he stroked the gold band. "For my Rouge." 

"For your..."

Logan ran his fingers through Finn's hair, "My Red. Pascal taught it to me." 

Finn squeezed Logan's hand tighter. If he opened his mouth, he was going to cry. 

The love of my life. 

"Finn," Logan's voice was breaking into tears as well, but his eyes made no move to look away. "You have been by my side since I have memories. I can't foresee the future... I don't know what my fate will be. But I do know that I want you to be a part of it." 

A tear fell heavily down Finn's cheek. It made everything feel real—too real to be just a dream.

"One day," Logan wiped away that love-filled tear. "One day, I promise," he kissed the ring and slowly slid it onto his pale, freckled finger. "I promise, I will marry you." 

Oh, so this is what it feels like to be immortal. Elation, a slight tremor, the promise of eternal bliss.

"Close your eyes," Finn managed with a faint scrape of his voice. He couldn't help the soft laugh that burst out right after, tearful yet wholehearted. 

Logan held him close, looking as confused as intrigued by his reaction. "What are you..."

"Close your eyes," he urged again. He pulled back enough to find his satchel with a shaking hand and dug into the small pocket where he had hidden it. The pendant was a bit coarse, but the silver reflected the warm tones of the sunset almost perfectly. Finn slid the black leather cord over Logan's head, and the small fleur-de-lis bounced lightly on his chest. Logan caught it between his fingers almost instantly.

"Finn..."

"It's nothing like this," he kissed his ring where Logan had placed it, "but I shaped it myself," he said proudly. "Well... to be completely honest, the blacksmith helped me a little. But mostly he made sure I didn't get fatally hurt." 

Logan's disbelieving laughter warmed Finn all over. In his ears, it carried echoes of indelible memories—long walks between fields of white lilies and stolen, timid first kisses.

"But he also said you are very lucky to have me, so... I'll be there," Finn said solemnly. "With or without me, you're destined for the greatest achievement a man could inspire. And I will be here," he pressed his palm over the pendant on Logan's chest, "whatever awaits us out there."

"And when I have you, and you have me..." Logan's voice quivered with a choked breath. 

"What's the worst that could happen?" 

A whisper, Logan's tender lips on Finn's temple, calling forever and sealing a fate.

One they couldn't know wasn't meant to be theirs. 

[iluvchick3nz]

Sometimes long distance is about the little things. And sometimes it's about the big things. But it's ALWAYS about showing up in any way you can when your partners, or partner, need you. Have some angsty, fluffy, and in-love long-distance boys. All credits to @lumosinlove :)

Leo had had a bad day, and just needed something to make him feel better. Actually, it had been a bad week, or two, if he was being honest with himself. The days were short, in December, and every day he woke up to darkness and left the rink looking at the stars. Logan loved it, the cold, the obscurity, the significant lack of thunderstorms- but Logan was in New York, not here where Leo and Finn wanted him. They had barely been able to fit in a visit two weeks ago during the Thanksgiving holidays, and they wouldn’t get a chance before Christmas, which would still only be for a few days. They had played the Rangers in October and weren’t playing them again until mid-February, and it was in these cold moments, especially, that Leo felt Logan’s absence acutely, that he missed his New Orleans house more and more with each passing day of snow and little light. 

He was standing at the stove, making some butternut squash soup. Not exactly on the preapproved meal plan, and it definitely didn’t have enough protein for professional athletes, but it was warm and aromatic, and he had just put some homemade sourdough bread in the oven to bake for the second time out of its Dutch oven. He had scored it with a little design, the classic line down the middle and the leaf pattern, but also with three little birds, like sketched seagulls, in the top left corner. Leo guessed that his longing even translated into his cooking. 

Finn came out of the bedroom just then, walking to the door to put his shoes on. He always looked so good in the winter, with his long buttoned coats and dark pants, boots, scarf, and beanie. More often than not, too, he wore his glasses in the winter. He looked so cozy, and so gorgeous all the time it was sometimes difficult for Logan and Leo to concentrate when they went out into the city together. Now, he was also bearing a little bit of winter scruff, just a day or so worth, and if Leo hadn’t been so tired and sad, he would have asked him to dance in the kitchen just to be close to him for a little while under the soft lights. 

Patting his pockets for his belongings, Finn looked up at him. “I’m going to the pharmacy, sunshine, gotta pick up some more tape for my thigh. Can’t go running without it, Layla said, after last game’s strain.” He walked over, putting his arms around Leo’s waist. “Need anything while I’m out, baby? 

Leo just shook his head, biting his lip and looking to the soup he was stirring on the stove. 

Finn looked at him with a furrowed brow. His voice was hesitant but gentle when he spoke. “Peanut, what’s wrong? You’ve been… upset lately.”

Leo lifted his gaze as Finn reached a hand to cup his neck. “Just sad, I guess. It’s dark, and it’s cold, and I miss my parent’s house, and I… I really miss Logan.”

Finn’s shoulders sagged and he looked at Leo sympathetically. “I know, baby. God, I know it’s hard.” He let out a sharp breath. “And I know it doesn’t help to say that we’ll see him in a few weeks when he’s not waking up in our bed every other day.” He kissed Leo. “How about you finish your soup, yeah? Lo said he has a late practice, but we can call him after and cuddle in bed. I’ll read to you both, how does that sound?”

Leo nodded, trying to be strong, but his voice came out small. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Finn just drew him in. “Oh, baby.” He kissed Leo’s forehead firmly. “You want me to stay? I don’t have to go to the pharmacy, I can go without running tomorrow.”

Leo shook his head. “No, no, go. I’ll be okay for a bit. Just…” Leo glanced down at him. “Hurry back?”

Finn nodded and kissed him firmly, then softly, holding Leo there by his cheeks. “I love you, Le, baby. So does Lo.”

“Love you,” Leo said. “I love you.”

With one last kiss, Finn pulled away and opened the door. As he closed it behind him, he kissed his fingers and flashed them at Leo. Leo felt his mouth tug to the side, but as soon as the click of the lock sounded, he sighed and turned back his soup. The timer went off for the bread, and after determining the crust good enough, he put it on a rack to cool for a bit before he would slice it and toast it for their dinner. Then, he set about cleaning up what he could of the kitchen before Finn got home, turning on the kettle to make a cup of tea.

As he stood at the counter, closer to the residual warmth of the slowly cooling stove, sipping his mint tea, his eye caught on the picture frames by the door. The largest was of them in the locker room after the Stanley Cup win with the Lions, Finn kissing Leo’s cheek as Logan and Leo looked at each other. Logan had his arms wrapped around Leo’s waist, backwards champion hat on his head keeping his long hair out of his face. He was smiling so widely at Leo, having said something to make Leo blush and Finn coo, leaning in to wetly press his lips Leo’s skin just as someone had clicked the camera. Leo remembered feeling invincible in that moment. He had proven himself, his first NHL season, but more than that he was so high on being in love with his two boys that it had overshadowed their Cup victory. He knew he wouldn’t have felt that happy to win if Logan and Finn hadn’t been right beside him.

Below that photo, though, there was a newer one, taken on their most recent trip to Nice, to Logan’s mother’s childhood home that she shared with her brother. It was of the three of them on the beach. Thomas and Noelle had been staying at the same time, and had suggested going down to the ocean for sunset in the boiling French evening. Never one to turn down the opportunity to see his boys by the water, Logan had gifted them new swimsuits with a sly little grin on his face. They had been almost two small to wear in public, Leo had thought, but Thomas had taken one look at the three of them, wolf whistled, said something about inseam length, and that had sealed their fate.

  They had gone to the beach in their new swimsuits, definitely drawing eyes. One particular group of girls had really gotten along with Finn, which had definitely made Logan prickly; but what had actually made him snap was a tall, dark, and handsome French man coming to flirt with Leo while he and Finn had been reading on their towels. Logan, having just gotten back with Noelle and Thomas from finding some fruity, alcoholic drink, had seen the man looking Leo’s sun-tanned body up and down and immediately given his drink to Thomas to hold. Rushing over, he gave the man a glare and plopped himself right down on Leo’s lap, grabbing his shoulders and kissing him deeply. When he pulled away after an indecent amount of time, the man was gone and Finn was laughing beside them. Logan had just scowled, pulling him in to be kissed hard as well. 

In that moment, Leo had watched them, in the light that was just beginning to set over the Mediterranean, and thought how he had probably seen nothing more beautiful. Finn had pulled away laughing, pinching Logan’s side and making him smirk, then smile sheepishly with a blush. With a shout from Noelle, they’d all turned, Logan moving slightly sideways in Leo’s lap and Finn’s head resting on Leo’s shoulder, to smile for the camera. That was the last time Leo had remembered feeling truly warm before coming back to not only play ice hockey again, but to see Logan off to New York for another season.

He didn’t know how much time he had spent staring at the photographs, but his tea had gone cold in his hands. Sighing, he put the kettle on to boil more water, even if only to pour into a mug to hold. He checked his watch. Finn had been gone for a long time, longer than a trip to the pharmacy required. He tapped at his phone screen, but there were no new messages. He supposed Finn had just gone to another store, maybe to get some more dirt for their windowsill garden. They were running out of soil.

Just as he was pouring his second mug of tea, the sound of keys scratching at the door reverberated through the apartment. Leo closed his eyes and sighed, grateful for the time alone, but desperately wanting to collapse into Finn’s arms. He would understand the ache Leo felt in Logan’s absence more than anyone. 

He was just finishing adding honey to his tea, about to turn to the stove again to heat up the soup for dinner, when footsteps echoed as they walked through the door.

“Bonjour, soleil.”

Leo’s head snapped up. There, standing in front of him, was Logan, smiling widely. He had one of his hand’s laced with Finn’s, who was also grinning at Leo and carrying Logan’s bag, and was dressed in one of Leo’s sweatshirts and Adidas pants. He looked a bit tired, a Rangers hat on his head to tame what were undoubtedly his wild mid-season waves. Leo thought he’d never looked more gorgeous, waiting for him with Finn in the light of their apartment. “Oh.”

Logan took a step forward, and that was all it took for Leo to meet him the rest of the way, arms wrapping hard around his waist to lift him up. Logan’s legs were clutching his hips hard, arms encircling his neck and hands cradling the back of his head. When Leo had regained some of his sense he realized he was crying, making the edge of Logan’s sweatshirt- his sweatshirt- wet and salty. He knocked Logan’s hat off of his hat, hearing it hit the floor, and threaded one hand through his hair, the other underneath his thigh. Finn had come up and put a hand on each of their backs. “Surprise, nutter butter.”

Leo inhaled Logan’s scent and leaned back. “I mean- how… you had practice? And your car, did you drive here? The snow, Lo, you guys just got quite a bit the other day-”

Logan just shook his head, smiling at him. He tugged Leo’s hair a little to bring their mouths together, and Leo instantly relaxed. The tension left his body, and he let Logan’s fire, always bubbling, completely consume him for a few moments. Logan was warm, Finn’s hands on his back were warm, and he finally felt so warm he didn’t know what to do. His kisses grew desperate, trying to make up for lost time, and he felt Finn’s mouth on his shoulder, probably watching them together with his gorgeous brown eyes. Leo loved them endlessly.

Eventually, their kisses grew softer, Logan pulling away with a few more light pecks. “Oh, soleil, j’taime. I missed you, mon couer.”

“I- I missed you, too, sweetheart. I love you.” He jerked his head a little bit, mouth parting. “But how- what about practice?”

Finn laughed at Leo’s lingering confusion, and Logan just leaned in to kiss him again, smiling into it. “Non, no practice. I never had practice.” He looked up at Leo through his dark lashes. “And my car’s in for inspection, so I flew.” His eyes turned somber. “Finn said you’ve been sad.”

Leo looked at Finn, who was staring at him, maybe a little guiltily. Leo just kissed his forehead and then touch their temples together. “Yeah, yeah I’ve been sad. It’s just been-” He could feel himself starting to cry again. “It’s just been the cold, and the darkness, and missing my parent’s house, and- and missing you.” Leo took a shuddering breath in. “I really, really missed you sweetheart.”

Finn’s arm squeezed around his waist, and Logan made a small noise in the back of his throat and tightened his limbs around Leo's body. “Ouais, I missed you to, soleil. Missed you both.” He leaned towards Finn for a light kiss, then placed one on Leo’s mouth, too. “Finn told me, and I figured I could surprise you. We have a couple days off after our roadie, and I’d rather be here with you than in my apartment.” He looked up at him, green eyes searching. “Une bonne surprise?”

Leo smiled at him and closed his eyes as Logan leaned their foreheads together. “Ouais. The best.”

“Oo-ways.”

Logan and Leo laughed at Finn, Logan drawing him in for a few sloppy kisses. “Oh, mon rouge. Ton français est terrible.”

Finn winked, kissed him again, then kissed Leo firmly. “Happier now, peanut?”

Leo tiled his head, gazing at Finn’s eyes behind his glasses. “Yeah. Yeah, thank you. I love you.” He turned to Logan. “I love you both.”

Logan just hummed and laid his head on Leo’s shoulder for a brief moment before Leo squeezed his hip and moved to place him on the counter, parting with a kiss. Finn replaced Leo between Logan’s legs, his back to Logan’s chest and Logan’s arms around his waist, hands clasped in the front. It made Leo’s heart jolt to see them together like that again in their kitchen. 

Logan peeked out at him over Finn’s shoulder. “What did you make?”

Leo smiled. “Butternut squash soup. I’ll toast the bread in the oven, too, I made sourdough. Even made a design, see?”

He picked up the loaf and showed it to them. Both Finn and Logan hovered their fingers over the crust, eyes going to the three birds. Finn looked up first, grinning. “Aw, you cut us into bread.”

“Scored, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know about bread scoring, but you can score tonight if you want, peanut.” Finn’s eyes sparkled, then his nose crinkled. “Butternut. You’re our very own butternut squash!”

Logan snorted quietly, pressing a burst of kisses to Finn’s neck. Finn just smiled sharply at Leo, who was shaking his head in fondness. “I try and do something sentimental, and this is what I get.” He kissed Finn’s cheek. “You’re all trouble.”

Finn just winked at him. 

“I like them, soleil,” Logan interrupted, reaching out to bring Leo’s face to his to kiss him. “Les trois oiseaux.”

Leo smiled. “Oui.” 

“You know, French is a lot sexier when you're saying it in my ear, I gotta say.”

Logan smacked Finn’s hip lightly and Leo leaned back, laughing. As he heated the oven up and sliced the bread, he couldn’t bring himself to slice through the three birds. He smiled down at them as he listened to Logan and Finn’s bickering, at the feel of Finn’s hands on his hips, Logan’s warm body at his side watching his hands work the knife. He would freeze that section, he decided, and take it out and toast it on another cold day.

Because today… today he was warm.