#inspiration works in weird ways and it made me stay up till 4am to write this

[elementary-my-dear-daddy]

Captivated

Analogical (Virgil & Logan)

Warnings: Intoxicated sex, smoking, blood/violence mention, jerking off

Read it on AO3!

Summary: Punk!AU where Logan is absolutely fascinated by the lead of a local band at a house show.

The harsh ring of feedback coming from the shitty speakers set up in the backyard of the house show Logan was at seemed to make his skull buzz. Contrary to what Remus tells all of their friends, he was not dragged, lied to, or forced to be here. He liked the thrum of loud music and enraged lyrics spat towards him, it was a good place to decompress and let go of the rigid persona he typically presented. He could give up the polos and ties and neatly combed hair for a night in favor of a less maintained appearance, which felt rather freeing. Tonight he’d borrowed a pair of ragged crust pants from Remus and opted to wear a sleeveless tank that showed the slightest bit of his Oxytocin formula tattoo on his shoulder, and of course exchanged his dress shoes for sturdy boots just in case he’d end up near a mosh pit. Speaking of, Remus found him just as the next song started, waving him over to the gate into the yard so they could actually hear each other. He successfully managed to work his way through the crowd and noticed that Remus was pulling something out of his pockets.

“What’s that?” Logan asked loudly, trying to be heard over the loud screaming of the song.

“I scored a few spliffs!” Remus yelled back, pulling out two of the mentioned items as well as a lighter, “Want one?”

Logan nodded, waiting for him to light his own before taking one for himself. He let the end rest in his mouth while he clicked the lighter a few times to produce a flame. He didn’t see the harm in occasional vices like these, so long as they remained occasional, and if they helped him let loose, well that’s just an added bonus. He exhaled the first hit slowly, just like the other taught him to do when they were skipping classes together in high school. 

“These aren’t laced, right?” He thought to question.

“Probably not.” Remus shrugged, “I got ‘em out of a nightstand, so unless whoever lives here wanted to poison themselves I don’t think so!” 

Logan rolled his eyes, taking another drag. Of course Remus stole them, “Let’s hope we don’t get caught then.”

“Have I ever gotten caught?”

“Don’t you remember junior year when we-”

“Have I ever faced consequences?” He shot with a grin.

Logan frowned, “Unfortunately, no.”

“Fuck you too, stiff.” Remus blew a cloud of smoke in his face with a laugh.

When the taste and smell of burning filter hit them they flicked their spliffs to the ground, taking care to stomp both of them out (If Remus was going to cause a fire, it would be intentional). There’d been a lull in sound as a new band started to set up after the last. It wasn’t much of a stage, just a few amps, a drum kit, and a platform of old wooden pallets and scrap that raised the performers up slightly. Logan leaned against the cinderblock walls of the yard separating it from the neighbors who so graciously put up with what went on here and watched over the crowd. Small groups chatted, drank, smoked and what could only be described as dicked around the venue. He took it in, smirking to himself as he thought about how just a few years ago he’d be appalled at such deviant behavior. Now, he happily participated in it all.

His attention gravitated towards the new band, notably the man at the front fussing over what looked like a bass. Heavily decorated with tattoos, piercings, and a magenta dyed mess of hair, he seemed so… compelling to Logan. He slung his instrument over himself and wandered up to the microphone set up at the front.

“Hey, shut up we’re gonna start.” He spoke, setting off the feedback on the mic again. The crowd hushed and began to gather towards the stage. The man spoke again, “We’re Fairy Certain by the way and we write songs about gay sex.”

There were four clicks of drumsticks counting the band in before noise assaulted the crowd. A fast driving beat drew people to the front, with a few people starting to headbang and form the beginnings of a pit. There were a few bars of instrumentals, before the man at the front leaned into the mic again.

“We aren’t a crime… Not on my time…”

Logan paced over to the edge of the crowd, gazing up at the stranger with a hazy expression. Lithe fingers plucked over the stings of his instrument quickly as he yelled into the microphone, captivating Logan.

“I’ll be your man…that way you can…”

His mind could have been addled by smoking, or from the rush of adrenaline the music gave him, but the singer seemed to glow up on the stage. He wondered if it was just a trick of light from the porch lamps reflecting in the second hand smoke from various sources or if it was actually radiating from the man.

“Be my boy, let’s destroy the fucking world “

Over the course of the performance, Logan got closer to the stage. He moved with the crowd, shuffling along as the tempo of each song changed. There were a few times he landed at the edge of the pit and absentmindedly pushed its participants back towards the violent center. It was one of those times when the crowd was fully ramped up that he felt a rough shove at his back, launching him forwards into the action. He was caught up in the chaos and tried to get his head on straight to escape it. He dug his shoes into the ground and shoved the nearest body, only to feel himself get slammed by another in his side. When he turned, an elbow collided with his face. In a few seconds, he was completely disoriented and knocked over onto the dusty ground. He had enough sense in him to cover his head and curl up, waiting for the pit to dissipate or for someone to pick him up. Luckily, it was only a few moments before someone was grabbing onto his arm and yanking him back to his feet.

After getting his bearings and dusting himself off, he noticed the music stopped and everyone in the immediate vicinity was staring at him. The person who grabbed him still had a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look and was met with the same man who had been performing this set. Now that he could see his face a little more clearly, he saw the touch of black eyeshadow beneath his brown eyes. He looked at Logan with a worried expression, checking for any distress in his face.

“Hey. You ok?”

Logan opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. He nodded instead.

“Your lip is bleeding.” The stranger pointed out, “Hold on wait here.”

He watched as the other hopped back up on stage and leaned into the mic again.

“Learn your fucking show etiquette assholes, you’re supposed to pick up someone if they fall! That was our last song anyway. Whatever.” He stepped off the stage and returned to Logan, who was more or less at the peak of his trip and was unable to do much besides stare. The man grabbed his hand again and led him back into the house.

Logan was taken past a long line of people to the house’s bathroom, the two of them cutting off the next person in line for it.

“Hey what the fuck?”

“I’m just getting the first aid kit, gimme a sec.” 

Logan waited in the doorway, watching him dig around under the sink until he retrieved what he was looking for. The stranger once again grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the back of the house, grabbing keys from the chain on his belt and unlocking one of the bedrooms. He was sat down on the bed, waiting as the other opened the kit up and found some things from it.

“I’m Logan.” He managed to say. 

“Virgil.” The other responded. He took Logan’s chin in his hand as he analyzed the injury, “Don’t think you’ll need stitches but this looks pretty nasty. You took a few decent hits out there, huh?”

Logan stared at him with wide eyes, blushing, “Is it that obvious I was smoking?”

Virgil looked at him, confused at first, and then with an expression of realization, then a soft smile, “I meant in the pit, but now that you mention it your eyes seem kind of dilated.”

“Oh.”

“Just hold still for me, Logan.” He said, taking a wipe to the cut. Logan winced and would’ve pulled away if not for Virgil’s hand holding him in place. Soon enough the blood and dirt were wiped away and some salve was applied to help it heal. It helped bring him back to earth for now, his high finally dying down enough for him to feel the pain of the injury and the awkwardness of the situation.

“Sorry, I should have been more careful out there.”

“No, not your fault. Some asshole pushed you in, I saw him.”

“He didn’t happen to have no shirt and a mustache, did he?”

“He did.”

“Remus. A friend.”

“An asshole friend.”

“That defines him very well actually.” Logan said, earning a chuckle from Virgil, “Sorry to make you end your set. I liked it a lot.”

“Thanks, but don’t worry about it.” Virgil shrugged, “Rude people don’t get to hear my awesome gay sex music anyway.”

Logan smiled, “Why do you write about it?”

“Dunno. I’m gay. I have sex. I like to yell about it.” He closed the lid on the first aid kit and set it off to the side, turning back to Logan, “Why do you go to these types of shows?”

“They let me relax, as hard as that might be to believe.” Logan answered, “Plus it isn’t a bad way to meet people.”

“True.”

They both sat there on the bed for a moment. Loud music from the next set of musicians started, slightly muted by the walls of the house, filling the brief silence between them.

“I bet you meet a lot of people at these shows.”

“Sometimes.” Virgil responded, “Everyone wants a singer but no one wants a bassist. They cancel each other out.”

“Surely that’s not accurate.”

“It’s true, and yet we’re the best with our fingers.” He joked, holding up two fingers and mimicked the action of plucking a bass, “You trying to say something?”

Logan rubbed his arm nervously, “Oh, I didn’t mean like- well… you are attractive but I meant, sorry.”

Virgil laughed at the other fumbling over his words, “It’s okay, it’s cute.”

“What is?” He asked, still a little dazed.

“You are.”

“Oh…” Logan turned red. It was hard to see in the unlit bedroom, but still noticeable, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Virgil replied, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but do you wanna stay for more than just the music?”

It took Logan a few seconds to process what Virgil meant, but when he got it he looked back at the other man and nodded quickly.

Virgil acted quickly, going to straddle Logan’s hip and capture his lips in a kiss. He was careful to avoid hurting him further, but he couldn’t help but intensify the kiss when the faint taste of blood entered his mouth. Logan was overwhelmed just by a simple kiss. The other’s tongue piercing ran under the roof of his own mouth, while the twin hoops from his spider bites pressed into the flesh of his lips. He tried to match the force that Virgil gave, but found himself content just being the recipient of the affection, only making a lazy attempt to lick into the other’s mouth occasionally.

After a few minutes of this, Virgil pulled away, taking in the sight of a lust drunk Logan. He pushed him to the bed lightly before going at it again, this time letting a hand roam underneath the thin fabric of Logan’s shirt. The feeling of Virgil’s hands exploring his skin excited him and he arched into the touch as soon as his hand ghosted over his pecs. A soft moan left his mouth, causing Virgil to smile against his.

“You like that baby?”

“Mhm.” He responded.

“You want more than this?”

Logan gasped as Virgil ran his thumb over his nipple, “Please, yeah.”

“Let’s get these out of the way then.” Virgil said, playing with the hem of Logan’s shirt and pants.

They both quickly scrambled out of their clothes, flinging them out of the way as they pressed quick kisses and gentle touches to each other's newly exposed skin. When they stripped down to just boxers, Virgil urged Logan to lay down on the bed once again. He rubbed at the other’s thighs as he hovered over him, quickly noticing the small wet patch forming at the top of the tent in Logan’s underwear.

“Fuck, so hard already? That’s fucking adorable.”

“Virgil…” Logan whined.

“I know babe, I know.” He reached to pull his own length out of his boxers, spitting on his hand and slicking himself up, letting a quiet moan leave his lips as he did. Once he worked himself up he took out Logan’s cock, leaning forward until he held them both in his hand. He stroked them together, listening past the loud music coming from outside to hear all of Logan’s noises.

Logan bucked his hips up into Virgil’s hand, looking at how handsome he looked above him. Tattoos covering his chest, arms, and sides, all glistening with the effort of performing both before and now. His expression, lips slightly parted, brow furrowed, messy hair sticking to his forehead, and eyes squeezed shut in focus as he jerked them together, it was so incredibly hot. He let out a groan as the other twisted his wrist just right so his palm ran over the head of his dick. 

Virgil opened his eyes to see Logan writhing in pleasure beneath him, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. He moved his hand over their lengths faster, gripping them harder than before.

“Fuckkkk Logan, feels good.”

“Uh-huh, faster!”

“You want more? Huh?”

“Yes!”

Virgil increased his pace and leaned forward to kiss him again, not being as gentle as before and biting Logan’s lip between his teeth as they got off. They both thrusted into his grip, moaning into each other’s mouth. It was when Virgil ran his tongue piercing over the fresh cut on his lip that Logan felt that familiar heat curling in his veins.

“ ‘m close!”

“Me too, shit-” Virgil cried as he stroked them as fast as he could. He captured Logan’s mouth in another long-lasting kiss, the other whining constantly as his orgasm built.

With a final couple touches from Virgil, they both toppled over the edge together. They spilled over each other’s cocks and stomachs, panting from the quick fuck. Once they rode out the pleasure, they collapsed beside each other on the bed.

VIrgil was the first one to break the silence of the afterglow, “How’re you doing, Lo?”

“That was really good.” Logan breathed, turning his head to rest against the other boy’s shoulder.

“Good, good.” Virgil sighed and reached for his shirt, cleaning the come off of the both of them. Logan watched and grimaced.

“You’re not going to wear that out, are you?”

“No, I’ll just toss it in the laundry tonight.” He replied, throwing it off to a corner of the room.

“Wait.” Logan finally put the two dots together, “You live here?”

Virgil nodded, “Yeah. I wouldn’t be as much of an ass about everything tonight if it wasn’t my place.”

Logan thought for a moment, “Was your door unlocked when you came in here?”

Virgil looked at him with curiosity, “Uh, yeah, I thought I locked it but I guess I didn’t. Which is weird because I normally check a bunch of times to make sure it’s really-”

“Check your drawers.”

Virgil leaned over to check the bedside dresser drawer where he kept all his smoking stuff that he usually used to relax before bed and, lo and behold, a few joints and spliffs he rolled before were missing.

“How did you-”

“I’ll make Remus pay you back.”