![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
My roommates are upstairs with another of their friends, and I think I'm supposed to go upstairs and be social or something. But I'm on my period and I had a bad day and I'm grumpy and--meh. But now I feel weird, like maybe they think I don't like them or something. Sigh.
People are hard.
This fucking torrent: it gets to 91% and just *stops.* It's been at 91% since I left for work six hours ago. Of course, the upload rate is just fine and dandy. *glares at torrent*
More gratuitous Logan slash crossover fic. Everwood/Vmars this time.
***
“Oh, gee. Your mommy died, too? Maybe we can form a club!”
“It is harder to be friends with you than it is to be friends with a serial killer, you know that?” His roommate, as usual, ignored Logan’s brand of sarcastic cruelty and continued practicing his scales, a faint look of disgust on his face.
“No, seriously: We can meet on Tuesdays, in one of the empty science classrooms. I’ll bring the chips and dip, you bring the sodas—I’ll bet we could even get school-sponsored field-trips!”
“And then we can compete over whose first girlfriend was more of a bitch, right? Or, wait—maybe we can have a competition over whose dad was more of an asshole.”
Logan snorts and sits up on his bed. “I’m pretty sure I win on both accounts.”
Ephram finally starts playing and turns around to face him, looking more annoyed by the second. “Right, of course you do, because your life is so dramatic and awful and terrible and no one else can even *compete.* You’re awfully masochistic and melo-dramatic for someone who isn’t a musician, you know that?”
“I’ve always thought that artists unfairly monopolized angst.”
Ephram snorts at that. “That’s just because it’s our job to express the angst of the entire human race.”
“God, not another speech on the importance of music in today’s world, okay? You’re a fucking piano player, you’re not a god damn world power or anything.”
Ephram shakes his head at the ceiling. “Why do I even bother?”
“It’s my dry, sarcastic wit coupled with my unconventional good looks. You can’t resist it.”
“You stole that line from People.” Ephram gets off his piano bench and rolls onto the bed, kissing Logan’s neck.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Logan rolls on his side so that he can press his hips up against Ephram.
“No. It’s because you give good head. I mean-“ Ephram slides his hand up Logan’s shirt. “It’s certainly not because of your winning personality.”
Ephram reminded him way too much of Veronica sometimes.
He hated thoughts like that. Even all the way across the country, in fucking NYU, he couldn’t escape old ghosts. Sometimes he thinks Ephram feels the way, but he’s never asked; Ephram telling him about his dead mother just now was the only thing he’s ever shared about his personal life, and considering Logan’s reaction, Logan doubts that he’ll want to share more.
Ephram is rubbing at his nipples and teasing his neck, rubbing his lips back and forth and not quite kissing. It’s distracting and frustrating him, and Logan knows Ephram is just doing it to piss him off. He grabs the back of Ephram’s head, moves him until he can kiss his mouth.
It’s not a nice kiss; they never are. It’s just lips and tongue and a lot of teeth, and it’s doing the trick and getting Logan hard. He rubs himself against Ephram’s thigh, and feels Ephram gasp into his mouth.
Ephram is loud during sex. It’s one of Logan’s little games to see what different sounds he can make the other boy make.
When Logan rakes his fingernails up the skin of Ephram’s back, Ephram hisses, and pushes his head down. They struggle for a bit, because Logan likes to be contrary, and then Logan relents, moving down until Ephram’s crotch is at eye-level. He undoes Ephram’s fly and pushes his pants and briefs down, and then Ephram’s cock is staring at him.
Logan doesn’t hesitate before swallowing it down, almost all the way. He hears Ephram make a funny gasp-groan-squeaky sound, and then strong, piano-playing hands are in his hair. Logan sucks hard, moving his head up and down and doesn’t bother with fancy stuff. Ephram tugs on his head to signal, and he lets go, moving his head just in time, and Ephram comes on his sheets.
He scoots back up on the bed, and Ephram’s mouth is on him just that fast. Logan *hates* making noise himself during sex (it always feels like surrendering something), but he can’t stop himself from gasping when Ephram licks him. Then sucks him, and Logan comes far too soon. In Ephram’s mouth.
Ephram sputters and pulls back, gets come on his lips and scoots away from Logan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “*Asshole.*”
Logan shrugs. “Sorry.”
“You’re not. Whatever.” Ephram does up his pants and gets up. “I’m going out.” He doesn’t ask Logan to come with, and Logan doesn’t offer. He just starts removing the sheets, throwing them in the general direction of the hamper.
Ephram gives him one last look before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door, and Logan lies back on the sheet-less bed and stares at the ceiling, and avoids his schoolwork.
It’s like any other weeknight. All in all, Logan figures things could be a lot worse.
People are hard.
This fucking torrent: it gets to 91% and just *stops.* It's been at 91% since I left for work six hours ago. Of course, the upload rate is just fine and dandy. *glares at torrent*
More gratuitous Logan slash crossover fic. Everwood/Vmars this time.
***
“Oh, gee. Your mommy died, too? Maybe we can form a club!”
“It is harder to be friends with you than it is to be friends with a serial killer, you know that?” His roommate, as usual, ignored Logan’s brand of sarcastic cruelty and continued practicing his scales, a faint look of disgust on his face.
“No, seriously: We can meet on Tuesdays, in one of the empty science classrooms. I’ll bring the chips and dip, you bring the sodas—I’ll bet we could even get school-sponsored field-trips!”
“And then we can compete over whose first girlfriend was more of a bitch, right? Or, wait—maybe we can have a competition over whose dad was more of an asshole.”
Logan snorts and sits up on his bed. “I’m pretty sure I win on both accounts.”
Ephram finally starts playing and turns around to face him, looking more annoyed by the second. “Right, of course you do, because your life is so dramatic and awful and terrible and no one else can even *compete.* You’re awfully masochistic and melo-dramatic for someone who isn’t a musician, you know that?”
“I’ve always thought that artists unfairly monopolized angst.”
Ephram snorts at that. “That’s just because it’s our job to express the angst of the entire human race.”
“God, not another speech on the importance of music in today’s world, okay? You’re a fucking piano player, you’re not a god damn world power or anything.”
Ephram shakes his head at the ceiling. “Why do I even bother?”
“It’s my dry, sarcastic wit coupled with my unconventional good looks. You can’t resist it.”
“You stole that line from People.” Ephram gets off his piano bench and rolls onto the bed, kissing Logan’s neck.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Logan rolls on his side so that he can press his hips up against Ephram.
“No. It’s because you give good head. I mean-“ Ephram slides his hand up Logan’s shirt. “It’s certainly not because of your winning personality.”
Ephram reminded him way too much of Veronica sometimes.
He hated thoughts like that. Even all the way across the country, in fucking NYU, he couldn’t escape old ghosts. Sometimes he thinks Ephram feels the way, but he’s never asked; Ephram telling him about his dead mother just now was the only thing he’s ever shared about his personal life, and considering Logan’s reaction, Logan doubts that he’ll want to share more.
Ephram is rubbing at his nipples and teasing his neck, rubbing his lips back and forth and not quite kissing. It’s distracting and frustrating him, and Logan knows Ephram is just doing it to piss him off. He grabs the back of Ephram’s head, moves him until he can kiss his mouth.
It’s not a nice kiss; they never are. It’s just lips and tongue and a lot of teeth, and it’s doing the trick and getting Logan hard. He rubs himself against Ephram’s thigh, and feels Ephram gasp into his mouth.
Ephram is loud during sex. It’s one of Logan’s little games to see what different sounds he can make the other boy make.
When Logan rakes his fingernails up the skin of Ephram’s back, Ephram hisses, and pushes his head down. They struggle for a bit, because Logan likes to be contrary, and then Logan relents, moving down until Ephram’s crotch is at eye-level. He undoes Ephram’s fly and pushes his pants and briefs down, and then Ephram’s cock is staring at him.
Logan doesn’t hesitate before swallowing it down, almost all the way. He hears Ephram make a funny gasp-groan-squeaky sound, and then strong, piano-playing hands are in his hair. Logan sucks hard, moving his head up and down and doesn’t bother with fancy stuff. Ephram tugs on his head to signal, and he lets go, moving his head just in time, and Ephram comes on his sheets.
He scoots back up on the bed, and Ephram’s mouth is on him just that fast. Logan *hates* making noise himself during sex (it always feels like surrendering something), but he can’t stop himself from gasping when Ephram licks him. Then sucks him, and Logan comes far too soon. In Ephram’s mouth.
Ephram sputters and pulls back, gets come on his lips and scoots away from Logan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “*Asshole.*”
Logan shrugs. “Sorry.”
“You’re not. Whatever.” Ephram does up his pants and gets up. “I’m going out.” He doesn’t ask Logan to come with, and Logan doesn’t offer. He just starts removing the sheets, throwing them in the general direction of the hamper.
Ephram gives him one last look before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door, and Logan lies back on the sheet-less bed and stares at the ceiling, and avoids his schoolwork.
It’s like any other weeknight. All in all, Logan figures things could be a lot worse.
cranky
(no subject)