Crushed Pt. 05

A/N- thanks for waiting longer for this part, its taken me many many hours! I hope you enjoy!

Logan : 24th December

He knew he shouldn't be here. Hell, this was stalker behaviour. He wasn't a stalker. But who else finds themselves hanging about the street corner of their ex's house on Christmas Eve?

Fuck. Fucking hell. He knew he should go back home, but his feet wouldn't move. It didn't help that home wasn't exactly a fun place to be right now.

Dad didn't know the truth yet, but he did know about Logan flunking out of his university course thanks to the email he had received from the head of Logan's course earlier that month.

"It's thanks to me you even got in to that university!" Dad had roared at him when he arrived home yesterday, once again reminding him that he was a thick useless layabout who had only got into Uni thanks to Dad's 'connections'.

He had calmed down today, perhaps because it was Christmas Eve. But even without the yelling, the cold stoney silence was worse. Then there was the glances from Mum, the knowledge that there was still more news that needed sharing that Dad would take badly.

Logan had dreaded coming home, he always used to stay out of the house as much as possible but now? No Chris, no friends... no Alex. He had nowhere to go. When he had stormed out the house earlier after a particularly snarky comment from Dad, he hadn't planned on where he would go. It was only when his anger subsided that he realised he was almost at Alex's house.

Alex.

His chest ached. A sharp pain that pierced the constant dull throb of loss that had thrummed for the last two months since Alex had walked away.

He missed him more than words could express. Alex embodied everything that was right in the world. When Logan was near him, he was a better person. He was kind, funny, smart and sexy as hell to top it off. With just enough awkward charm that he didn't know how great he was. Logan loved him more than he loved anyone.

He had always fancied him, before he knew what it meant. But in his idiotic childish teenage brain, he had translated that awe into jealous envy. He had allowed his fear and self hatred to project out onto the one perfect thing he had in his life.

And when those eyes looked at him with hate and disgust, he had felt a satisfaction that Alex saw him for what he was. A freak. That's what Chris had said, gay men were freaks. An abomination. Those were Dad's words.

He had wanted Alex to hate him. Better to hate him than the alternative, he had thought. For years he had thrived off that response. The power of it, the attention and the thrill. Hatred was an incredibly strong emotion. It stood in perfectly for the firey emotion he truly wanted.

How selfish he had been. He had been so consumed by his own confused feelings he hadn't really considered the magnitude of his actions on Alex. He had guessed briefly towards the end of their school years that perhaps things had done too far, and had distanced himself. But he still kept tabs on his once best friend.

But when he got his hands on Alex's diary.... He still remembered spotted the battered book under his pillow. Knowing it was private, knowing he shouldn't look, and yet... that burning emotion that made all sense leave his mind roared to take it. To read it. And, forever the selfish fool, he did.

Those nights he had cried into his pillow when he realised what he had truly done still haunted him. The years he had ruined, the years he had wasted... would things be different if he had just owned up to how he truly felt all those years ago?

Would he be on this cold street corner on Christmas Eve, heartbroken and lonely? He shivered. It was really getting cold. How long had he been stood here? He lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips and swigged. Expensive stuff from Dad's cabinet. He would be scolded for it later, but it was worth it.

Laughter came from his left and he glanced around to see a drunken group of merry pub goers making their way down the street, bedecked in novelty Christmas jumpers and light up reindeer antlers. The sight of people was what finally pulled his feet from the pavement. He stumbled slightly down the street, refusing to look at the front door of Alex's family home as he walked away, his shoulders huddled against the frigid air.

The street swayed as he walked. He hadn't realised quite how much he had drunk as he stewed in old memories. He also hadn't realised he had tears in his eyes until they fell hot against his cheeks. He brushed them away, with a noise of annoyance. He hated these streets. Hated this straight laced homophobic town.

Lost.

Rejected.

Alone.

Maybe he :should return to Leeds. But what was there for him anyway? A course he hated that he had only taken for a father he despised? A best friend who he had stopped talking to, and housemates who were forced to awkwardly take sides? A home that felt like a prison.

Cold.

Empty.

Alone.

He walked down the busier main road, Christmas songs blasting from the colourful bars and pubs, their bright signage and car headlights from the road blinding him. If he just walked in front of those cars now, would anyone miss him?

It was a comforting thought. Blissful, quiet, no judgement from his father, no hatred, no pain. It would be so easy. Just one step. One step and it would all go away.

The loud car horn blared him out of his reverie. He had stumbled in front of the nearest car without really thinking, and the car which had already slowed for traffic ahead did an emergency stop, the bumper colliding with his shins. It hurt a bit but the shock was enough that he stood up, apologising and backing away from the driver who threw expletives and hand gestures back at him.

He felt shaken by what he had done. Had that been deliberate? Had he stepped in front of that car on purpose? He had thought about it but he didn't think he would actually do it until he had already done it. He lifted the whiskey to his lips and winced at the burn in his throat as he took a long drink.

"Logan?"

Shit.

"Hey Logan!"

He didn't have time to get away, to hide. Aiden and Ben's face swam into view. Logan winced. Last time he had seen those faces they had been stood behind Chris as he spewed his homophobic crap.

"Hey you okay? You almost got hit by that car back there," Aiden said, bending down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Logan suddenly became aware he was sitting on the pavement, his back against a wall but had no memory of falling or getting down.

Ben said something too but his voice was distant and echoing.

He felt nauseous as he tried to focus on Ben's face, closing his eyes against the spinning world. It didn't help, and as the nausea rose he felt the clench in his stomach that meant only one thing. The glass bottle made a clinking noise as he dropped it, turning to the side to vomit. The whiskey burned as much in the way out as it had on the way in.

When it was finished, he lay back against the wall panting before reaching for the bottle again.

"Woah there buddy, think we've had enough of that."

Logan scowled at him, wrenching the bottle from his hands with a glare, "we're not fucking buddies."

He remembered when they were, remembered painfully a time when Aiden had laughed when he had called Alex a fag in front of their whole class. Relishing in the attention, the hateful look Alex had given him. Yes, hate me, he had thought. I'm a monster, I'm a freak, you should hate me.

Now though, his guts churned with revulsion for himself and he wondered if he was going to vomit again. Aiden had done nothing. He was no better than Logan.

"Go away, Aiden."

"Ok, but let us help you home. It's Christmas Eve, taxis will be a fortune."

"I don't want to go home," Logan mumbled, and he felt the tears running hot tracks on his cheeks again. "I can't go home."

"Come on," Aiden said and before he could protest, he and Ben had helped him to his feet. To his surprise they lead him towards a picnic bench, set up on a small patch of grass by the edge of the road. Ben left and returned with two large bottles of water. He downed the first bottle under their supervision before they handed him a second one to drink.

His mind cleared a little, the puke and the water having flushed a large amount of the alcohol from his system. He leaned forward resting his arms on the bench and frowning at the pair.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because you need help," Aiden said, crouching before him. "And despite how shitty we have treated you recently, you're our friend."

"Could fool me," he muttered.

"We stopped hanging out with Chris," Ben said from behind Aiden, his hands in his pockets.

"Well, he stopped hanging out with us," Aiden argued with a grin that made Logan frown.

Ben laughed, "well you did punch him, several times."

Aiden shrugged, "it just looked so fun when Logan did it."

Logan felt the smile tug at his lips despite his anger and misery and Aiden grinned back.

"I'm sorry for not being there for you man," he said, his gaze serious and intent.

"Me too," Ben said gruffly, not quite meeting his eyes. "He was out of line, and we just... let it happen. We were out of line. For years."

"We were dicks," Aiden added.

He looked from one to the other and nodded, if he granted them a second chance, then maybe one day he could begin to forgive himself.

He sighed, "well fuck, who am I to judge."

He glanced at them both, then down at the puddle of puke next to him and winced. "Can we do this make up chat somewhere else?"

Aiden laughed and stood, stretching out a hand to pull him up. Logan hesitated for a moment then grinned, feeling a warmth of something like happiness for the first time in a long time. He took it, just as the bells rang in midnight. Rang in Christmas Day.

* * *

Alex: December 24th

(Same day, somewhere else)

Alex threw his suitcase onto his bed and began filling it with all he needed to stay back at his parents over Christmas break.

His small studio flat wasn't much, but it had been his home for nearly a month. Only a short bus journey from his parents it had given him the freedom of a fresh start.

He had, with some help from his parents, saved enough for the deposit and first three months of rent. He was able to commute to his bookshop weekend job and had secured an IT assistant position at the community college near his new flat, starting after Christmas break.

Life was good. Mostly. To pretend that he no longer had feelings for Logan was pointless. Not a day went by when he did not feel the tightening pang of his chest at some memory or reminder of him. As he had so many times before, he pulled out his phone and searched for his social media accounts.

Nothing. He tried to convince himself that that could be a good thing, that Logan wasn't a big social media user anyway. But still he hoped one day for some shred, some sign of how he was doing.

He ached with longing for him, but at the same time knew he did not regret his decision to take this time to find out who he was. And without knowing how long that could take... this was the only way.

He left the flat and caught the bus that would take him home for the holidays. He wondered if he would see Logan. He must have come home for the holidays. Perhaps he could 'accidentally' bump into him?

But what good would that to but bring up all the painful emotions he was trying so hard to avoid. For both of them.

His parents were enthusiastic when he arrived, the house decorated for Christmas with music playing and the smell of cooking and Christmas trees wafting through the rooms. Alex talked about the new flat, the new job he was due to start and they smiled in a way they hadn't before.

Of course he knew they were happy he eas getting on his feet, but also his departure seemed to have brought a new lease of life ti his parents, who were acting as if they were newly weds again. He didn't mind, although the kissing on the sofa did get a bit tiring after a while.

"I'm going out for a walk," he said, and they broke apart only briefly to say goodbye and to wrap up before giggling and continuing their fun.

The night was brisk. He hadn't realised it was late. But there were still many people around. He smiled as he watched the people around him, happy and festive, everyone out enjoying the holiday. He breathed a long breath and felt although still a little sad, content for the first time in a long time. He was finally doing something with his life. He wasn't entirely sure what that was yet but he was doing it.

As he rounded the corner back towards home, he stopped. For a moment he wondered if it was his imagination, it wouldn't have been the first time he thought he saw that golden hair from the corner of his eyes.

But as he watched, he could see without a doubt, Logan hovering in the shadows of a tree not far from home. He felt a wave of emotions so strong and muddled he couldn't entirely distinguish them. His feet were frozen to the spot as ne watched Logan, who in turn looked down the street towards his front door.

Had he seen him leave? Was he waiting to see him come back? To talk to him? Should he talk to him? Or should he walk away?

His body didn't respond to his spiralling brain. He just stood, barely breathing, looking at the shape of his shoulders, slightly hunched in his jacket, the way his hair had grown a little long, brushing against his forehead, his sharp nose and jaw catching the light of a nearby streetlight.

Eventually after what felt like hours and yet at the same time only seconds later, loud laughter peeled from behind Alex, who in a sudden jump, hid behind a tree.

The rowdy group passed him, their antlers flashing, singing a barely recognisable rendition of God Rest Thee Merry Gentlemen.

By the time they passed him and he felt it was safe to peer from behind the tree, Logan was gone.

* * *

Alex: 7th January

Two weeks later he was starting his new job.

When he arrived at the college at first he felt a little daunted. A school. He didn't have good memories of school. And although he had never gone on to study his A Levels at college, the sight of teenagers and classrooms felt like a tight knot in his stomach. However the staff were friendly, and took him to a small little office where students and staff could come to him with IT problems. He was good with computers, and was excited to try something different.

After a tour of the school and introductions to the other IT assistants in the other buildings he was given time to set up and get comfortable before returning for his first full shift in the morning.

"Oh thank Jesus you're open," a voice said from the hatch that connected his office to the corridor beyond. A woman with black frazzled hair and big dark eyes was there clutching a laptop.

"Oh, hi, actually I'm-"

"Look! It's an emergency!" She cried, opening her laptop to shop the steady drip of brown liquid that pooled on the hatch opening. "I spilled my coffee," she mumbled sadly.

"Oh," Alex said and approached. He may not technically be being paid yet but he knew how to help this woman so why not start early? "Give it here," he said and she handed it over.

It was a significant spillage. He turned the laptop off and then took a quick glance around the office for supplies. He found a box of screwdrivers and other useful tools and an aerosol can of compressed air. Perfect.

"Latte?" He asked with a grin.

"Oat milk latte," she sighed, and then her eyes grew wide. "Is oat milk bad for the laptop?"

"All milk is bad for laptops, but we'll get it dry and see if we can save it."

Removing the back of the laptop he took out the battery before turning it upside down and allowing the excess coffee to run out. The woman handed him a pack of tissues, which he then used to blot up the coffee.

"I'm such a klutz," she sighed. "I've got a class in 10 minutes."

"Can you access your files elsewhere?"

"No, I keep meaning to use a backup. But I guess I could use some online resources. Do you mind if I leave the laptop with you?"

"No problem, where will you be teaching today?"

"In Room 208?"

"Ok no problem, leave it with me," he smiled and she gave a grateful stressed smile in response before hurrying down the corridor.

He continued to work on the laptop, blotting the coffee through the keys and then using the spray to get those hard to reach spots. When he was satisfied he left it drying on his desk in an upside V position. Nothing he could do now but wait. He closed up the office and was about to head to the woman's classroom when he had an idea. He smiled to himself and headed to the cafe.

He knocked on the door to 208 before entering. He saw the woman from before, she was sat talking to a student animatedly but jumped up when she saw him, giving the student one last instruction before ushering them away.

"Well? Is it ok?"

"No way of knowing until tomorrow I'm afraid. I'll be opening up at 8:30am if you want to swing by and we can check on it then?"

"Amazing. Thank you, um... I'm sorry I don't even know your name."

"Alex, and yours?"

"Mrs Dorriner to this lot," she said cheerfully gesturing to the class. "But you can call me Helena."

"Nice to meet you Helena, I also thought you might need this." He held up the coffee cup "Oat milk latte?"

"Oh you are definitely going to be my new best friend," she laughed, taking the cup. "Thank you. Only way I can sit through the work of these young authors in the making," she said and some of the students laughed or rolled their eyes.

"You teach writing?"

"Yes, I do English literature, language and creative writing a levels and courses."

Alex looked around the room, at all the students tapping away on their laptops or frowning over editing notes. To consider the stories in this room alone were exciting to him. He wondered if any of them were destined to be published.

Helen eyed him curiously, her eyebrows so high they almost disappeared into her hairline, "don't tell me you are an IT pro and a fan of literature?"

"Actually yes, I work at the bookshop on London Road. I love books."

"You write too?"

"A little, mainly just journaling."

Helen smiled, eyeing him curiously. "Young man like you, journaling? How unusual."

"I enjoy it."

"Must be a good read then," she smiled, "What are you doing Thursday nights at 6pm?"

"Um I'm not sure, only just moved here. Why?"

"I like you Alex, you interest me, and I've never been wrong about someone when I get a hunch. Come join my adult writers group. Bring something to share. And we'll see if you're a writer. Oh and, thanks again for the coffee."

* * *

Logan: 10th January

After solid days of encouragement and down right blackmail from Aiden and Ben, he returned to university. He was grateful for their belligerence, because although he hated his course and had no intention of pursuing his Dad's idea of his future anymore, it did seem a waste to throw it all away with only a couple of months to go.

So, he found himself opening the door once more to his Leeds home. Once so special, now a ghost town.

As he headed up the stairs towards his room he heard footsteps and glanced up. Megan halted at the stop of the stairs looking at him wide eyed.

"Logan," she whispered, she scanned him and her eyebrows rose. Perhaps noticing that for the first time in a long time he was sober, or had showered, or had even looked her in the eye.

"Hey Megan," he said softly, "I think we should talk."

He gave her a small but reassuring smile and her lip trembled, her eyes already filling with tears. She nodded, unable to speak and followed him to his room.

She stood awkwardly in the doorway as he put his things down on the desk chair, and then leaned against it. He gestured for her to sit on the end of his bed, she did, but awkwardly and stiffly.