F A N F I C T I O N > V . M A R S
Win, Lose by Amberina
Things have changed. No, that goes without saying. Things have been turned upside down and spun around in a blender until they no longer even resemble the past. All things considered, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's some combination thereof, but Duncan's head hurts too much to contemplate that.
It started how he imagined these things always start. Pizza and alcohol and movies that aren't that erotic but that hit you just right there anyway. Okay, so maybe that was just them. Logan and Veronica and Duncan watching HBO and touching each other without stopping to think about why it didn't quite work.
Things left unsaid (and things, perhaps, better off that way) made themselves apparent in hesitant touches, hungry kisses. A selfish need radiated from the couch. Duncan was sure that they all knew what they were doing was selfish. How couldn't it be? How could anything borne of so much...
... so much...
How could it be right? How could it be real?
Surely something real could not feel that good. Surely Logan, if it were real, would not have fumbled with Duncan's belt, his hands shaking from maybe too much alcohol or too much Duncan. Veronica wouldn't have closed her eyes, her hands pulling at Duncan's cock as Logan licked her nipples, teasing and swirling with his tongue.
The aftermath was real, though. There was no denying that. Definitely not. They couldn't deny waking up, tangled together on the couch and the floor and everywhere minus clothes but plus a hangover. It was like math, except if all math was like this, a hell of a lot more people would pay attention in class.
No, they couldn't deny heads pounding and eyes shifting. Shame and "where do we go from here?" unspoken (of course, never spoken) but written all over their faces. Not that anyone would look each other in the face. Even Logan, king of snark and one-liners couldn't come up with something to lighten the situation. Something to erase the awkwardness.
Veronica left, a blur of blonde hair and "Can we just not talk right now?" Duncan would call her later. Logan probably wouldn't.
Then there was Duncan and Logan sitting together in the Neptune Grand, half-dressed but all the way confused. They swallowed Advil and Tylenol and lumps in their throats. Duncan twisted his hands together, unsure of what to say, what to do, what to think.
Logan stood and he paced. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He continued to move, back and forth across the room. He walked to the window, stared out at something Duncan couldn't see, and then turned away and paced more.
Finally, after maybe a half an hour, Logan said, "How many times did you make Veronica come last night? Because, if I remember correctly - "
Duncan laughed and grinned and wished that he wasn't so jealous of Logan, even though he - Duncan and not Logan - was the boyfriend. Maybe. "Twice."
Logan nodded and looked satisfied with himself.
"I made you come three times."
Logan turned and he looked, just looked at Duncan for a long while. And then he said, face completely serious, "But I made Veronica come four times, so I think I'm the winner."
Duncan would have told him that it wasn't a competition but that would be a lie.