A/N: Mature content.

At the news that Logan gained not one but two new siblings at the age of twenty, every muscle in my body locked up, my eyes refused to blink, and only my thoughts were rendered operable. My mind went through the mental calculations based on how Olivia was eight weeks pregnant.

Babies should be due some time in May... or April?

Since Logan now sat frozen like a statue, his jaw dropped down so far open it looked unhinged, I blinked my eyes a few times until I shook myself out of my own sense of shock. Despite my best composure efforts, my voice came out strained and I squeaked, "Th-that's wonderful. Congratulations."

"Wonderful," Logan echoed in a detached tone of voice that obviously showed he wasn't enthusiastic. "Olivia's not but aren't you too old for a baby, Dad?"

Ouch. Logan's dad was... Twenty when they had him? So he's... forty or forty-one?

My eyes averted as Logan technically dished out two digs, at not just his father's age but also the gap between his age and Olivia's.

Not surprisingly, a frown creased over Mr. McCallister's forehead. "Not that we owe you any explanation, but Liv is twenty-nine and the mother's age has more bearing on a healthy pregnancy outcome."

"Outcome?" Logan scowled and his voice deepened like the word lit off a chain reaction inside him. "Is that what you're calling it? Is this where I'm supposed to assume it was planned? Or be excited that you've created a separate family? You tossed aside Mom, so I suppose it was just a matter of time before you tossed aside me and Brody."

Olivia and I drew in simultaneous silent breaths, his Dad's stare hardened into a glare whose intensity matched the one Logan now wore, and the entire table fell silent at Logan's accusations. The longer Logan and his dad held their silent glare-off, the thicker the air became.

A small tremble twitched Logan's fingers, which then clutched me tightly against him. My lower lip rolled under as my reactions mixed between uncertain what his Dad's response was and seriously impressed with how easily Logan blurted out his feelings. I patted his nearest thigh, where the muscles sat rock hard with tension, and looked up to the same tension that clenched his jaw shut, tinted his cheeks pink, and blazed a bright blue in his eyes.

"Logan," I used as gently a voice as I had and rubbed my palm over his hand that now tightly gripped my shoulder, not painfully but more like a lifeline. "Maybe we should take a moment and get some... fresh air."

"Good idea," he spat out in a voice more bitter than I'd ever heard from him and threw his napkin down on the table. With an abrupt screech across the restaurant floors, he pushed back his chair and yanked mine out as soon as I stood up.

"Excuse us." I threw Logan's dad and stepmom a tight smile while Logan's long legs stepped away from the table without another word spoken.

"Took it better than Brody did." Mr. McCallister's voice was low but uncertain as he ran one hand down his face then looked up at me. "We know this changes things but it -"

"It's a blessing," I interrupted and shifted my gaze back to Logan's large-framed figure, which had now retreated halfway towards the restaurant exit. "We'll, umm... be right back."

With quick steps that hadn't closed the gap between me and Logan, I rushed after him. A night breeze blew into my cheeks when I pushed open the restaurant's entrance doors and found he'd walked out under the covered overhang area wide enough for two cars.

"Logan!" I called after him and quickened my pace until I jogged up to him.

Once his head turned in my direction, the sight I saw clenched my heart around itself. Even in the clouded over, dark evening sky, his eyes filled heavy with a storm of emotion, hidden behind a glossy cover of threatened tears.

"Oh gosh." I flung myself forwards and squeezed my arms around Logan. The idea of my rock, my strength, broken down and hurt elicited torn reactions in me. Part of me wanted that I stayed right here and held Logan for longer than he needed while the other part of me wanted my feet marched back inside the restaurant into a most likely embarrassing outburst towards his Dad.

Two warm arms that circled around me made my subliminal decision and I pressed my body flush against Logan's large, strong form. His muscles stayed tense but he lowered his head until his forehead pressed into the side of my neck and chin tucked into my right clavicle. Our breathing synchronized until I no longer separated his breaths or heartbeats from mine, just hugged him until our bodies felt melded together.

The pain that sadness struck through me choked back my words but this moment felt like one where no words could've changed anything.

Except maybe the three that matter the most.

"I love you," I murmured softly. After a few silent moments, he stilled and straightened up like the words slowly sunk in.

The sight of one lone tear that beaded up and trailed over Logan's left eye ripped a tiny hole into my heart. Since none of tonight was about me, I pushed aside my reactions, reached up, swiped it away with my thumb when it reached his jawline, then cupped his damp cheek in my palm.

The weight of his gaze, the mix of hurt and betrayal that swirled in his ocean-blue irises dried out the inside of my mouth but I stood silently and absorbed whatever he unleashed at that moment. He wasn't the nearly twenty-one year old man who I'd never fallen out of love with, he was the twelve year-old Logan whose father had broken his heart when he left their family and every cell in my body internally cried for him.

"Love you too baby," Logan whispered in a husky, disconnected, and near absent voice. "I just..."

Ragged breath by breath, his expression morphed into a hard, stoic exterior but anger now raged in his eyes. Like he feared his close proximity to me, he stepped back, his fists squeezed tight and tension rippled through his body from head to toe.

His chin lifted, both hands raked over his hair, his forehead tipped backwards, and quiet, venomous anger laced every word, "He's so fucking selfish it hurts. Fuck, I just want to put my fist through a wall or... break something."

"I'm sorry," I whispered and enclosed my fingers around his closest hand. His tension melted slightly, the muscles relaxed in his wrist and forehand, but his gaze never wavered.

"Not your fault my dad's a selfish prick who's getting a new family." His spine stiffened at his candid admission, then crushed his arms around me in an embrace that squeezed the oxygen out of my lungs. In comparison, my arms feebly wrapped around his waist and my upper arms tucked around his sides.

My heart cracked when he rushed out in a hushed whisper, "Why aren't we enough?"

We stood there, the only sound between us Logan's uneven breaths that hitched his back in small spasms. Each one stabbed a tiny prick into my heart but, inspired by his own strength, I just held Logan tightly and took each one until his breath evened out into a quiet sigh.

"Sorry," he mumbled quietly, pulled his head upright, and pressed a soft kiss against my forehead.

"For being human?" I smiled faintly, exhaled sharply, and cupped his cheeks in my hands. With my gaze fixated on his, I hopefully assured him, "It's okay, you know."

A flicker of confusion flashed over his eyes. "What?"

"You don't always have to be the strong one," I whispered, then pressed my lips once, twice, three times for charm against his until they twitched with a ghost of a smile. "You're more than enough and if your dad can't see that then it's his loss."

In a dry sarcastic voice, he gave me a knowing look like none of him believed my words. "Right."

I dropped my hands until they found his. "Sounds to me like your family is getting bigger, not replaced. We should at least hear them out and if you still want to put your fist through a wall, then our apartment's security deposit should cover that."

Thankfully, the humor that danced in his eyes told me he'd relaxed a little. "I'm going to hold you to that."

A soft smile pulled across my lips before I pressed them gently against his, then pulled back and took his hand in both of mine. "Always."

The rest of Friday night between Logan, his Dad, and stepmom felt more like a funeral than a dinner. Logan slipped into a silent, near robotic state where he spoke more to the waiter than the rest of us, I chewed off most of the skin on my lower lip and studied the napkin in my lap with more scrutiny than I'd given any of my midterms, and Olivia and Mr. McCallister exchanged one silent look after another. We all visibly slumped in our seats when the check arrived, Logan and I thanked them for dinner, offered tight hugs, and said goodnight.

Logan's silence remained when we arrived home with so much tension he looked like he needed a hard gym session. I couldn't convince him of anything other than a shower and without asking, I stepped in behind him, wrapped my arms around his torso, and flinched at the near scalding water temperature he'd set. My fingertips brushed over his pelvis on the reach around but he stilled at the contact and barely registered my hand's movements as I turned down the temperature.

"To quote someone who's pretty awesome himself," I murmured and pressed a kiss into the back of his wet shoulder blade. "I'm here."

Two hands wrapped over and gently patted mine, so I splayed my fingers over his pelvis and snuggled my front side against his back. The taut globes of his ass pressed near my core area but I ignored the faint heartbeat throbs down there at the contact and stroked my fingers under his navel.

Even under the shower water, Logan's skin warmed the more I stroked, so I lowered my right hand, but one of his squeezed my wrist when my fingertips brushed against the shortly trimmed hairs nestled at his base.

"It's okay," he mumbled, leaned his torso slightly forward, and tipped his chin downward so the shower water ran in rivulets of water over the bends and curves of his back and shoulder muscles.

"Please." I pressed my lips into the center seam of his spine, which was hardened with the stress he'd carried all night.

With a slow exhale, he released my wrist and I lowered my hand to the base of his rock-hard erection. My head turned sideways and I pressed my cheek into his back, which vibrated with a low groan from the slow, hard strokes of my palm up and down his shaft and his abdominal muscles tightened when my fingertips danced around the soft head and outlined the sensitive nerves of ridges with a delicate pressure.

One buck of his hips was enough that my hand dropped contact, both my hands steadied his hips, and I turned him around. The skin on his penis was stretched tight, flushed red around the plump head, and his large central vein protruded like the trails of water that ran down over him.

Without a thought, I sank to my knees, nuzzled my nose into his thigh, and silently asked permission with my hand wrapped around his base. A quick glance up showed his eyes looked down at me, dark and hooded, and his lips pressed together tightly.

My eyes fluttered momentarily as the back of his fingers brushed over my cheek and a solemn look overtook the lust in his eyes.

"Baby you don't have to," his deep voice cut through the soft water sounds around me. "I'm not going to use -"

"Please." I stroked a few times up his shaft, which slightly canted his hips. "Let me take care of you."

I ignored the sting in my knees on the bathtub surface and waited silently until he nodded. A smile pulled across my lips when his hand threaded through my hair, cupped the base of my skull, and tugged me closer.

With a quick flick of my tongue, I wet my lips first, then explored every inch of his erection. My eyes never left his as my hand preceded and guided my mouth's movements. I gently caressed around the soft nerves on his head, tasted the slight tangy precum down his center slit, and traced lines down the hard, hot skin that stretched over the vein that pulsed against my lips upon contact.

My other hand reached around and grounded my balance against his outer thigh and I nuzzled myself lower, near the base of his shaft. With soft, gentle movements, I ran my tongue over his warm, dimpled sacs, then slowly sucked one into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue.

First time for everything... although this might also be the last.

"Fuck Ellie." Logan's abs clenched tight along with every muscle in his legs as I continued with light, careful licks and sucks, one side at a time, until I traveled back up and relaxed my jaw.

Many times as I'd been in this position and I'd never deep-throated Logan but right now I attempted my best efforts. In a moment that felt anything but romantic, I relaxed my jaw, slicked him over with a disgusting amount of saliva with my tongue, choked and gagged his length in my throat, drooled out the corners of my mouth, convulsed my stomach when he hit my gag reflex, cried streams out my eyes, and possibly whimpered a few times as he drew out to a fist's width then pushed in until my nose pressed into his pelvis.

After a slow, unsteady build up, Logan's hand on the base of my skull led the tempo he wanted and he thrusted steady but not punishing strokes into my mouth, until his body tensed and my lips numbed, jaw ached, and white spots dotted the edges of my peripheral vision. With his fingertips pressed tightly into my scalp, he groaned, "I'm so close, Ellie can -"

"Mmmph," was the only sound Logan needed before his hot, thick liquid shot down my throat. After I choked down a swallow, before I gave a second thought about it, he pulled out and released the rest all over my tongue.

For the most unpleasant part, I squeezed his penis shaft to tip and coughed as the rest of his cum basted the inside walls of my mouth. With cupped hands under the shower stream, I rinsed out my mouth, then washed and scrubbed my eyes and cheeks clean.

Still on my now numbed kneecaps, I reached around him to the edge of the tub, picked up the bar of soap and his washcloth, and cleansed Logan from his toes up to his shoulders. Once we were both clean and stood inches apart, he pressed a soft kiss against my forehead.

"Thank you," he murmured soft vibrations into my skin.

A pained look cast over his eyes when I blocked his hand's ascent from between my thighs, but I just shook my head, turned off the shower, and mumbled, "Just want to go to bed."

Logan nodded, although the frown he gave me showed he wasn't happy how I declined the reciprocation, but we dried off, brushed our teeth, and he silently slipped into bed. His eyes were closed once I came into the bedroom, so I just climbed into bed bareass naked and rested my damp haired-head against his shoulder. With a soft grunt, he gently rolled me onto my side then curled his frame around mine. The last thing I heard before my own eyes fluttered closed was his whispered confession.

"Love you baby."

My lips moved in the returned response, then I slipped away to a heavy sleep with the warmth and security that only him wrapped around me provided.