Ficlet: 'Public Displays of Affection' (Duncan/Logan) PG-13

Logan has suddenly decided that it's time for them to start kissing in public. Logan doesn't tell Duncan this, but he figures it out pretty quickly when he slams his locker shut one morning and turns to find Logan up in his face.

Up in his face like he's going to kiss him, not up in his face like he's going to hit him. That was last week. They've moved on from screaming arguments about nothing and everything; fistfights in the hallways providing a spectacle for the other students. They must be moving on, Duncan thinks vaguely as he feels the warm tickle of Logan's breath against his cheek. Except—a queasy jolt in his stomach as Logan's fingers brush the waistband of his pants—sometimes this feels like a mere distortion of the fighting. It's just something else to make people stare; some new way to define a relationship that seems increasingly . . . indefinable.

"We shouldn't. Not here . . ." Duncan angles his body away from Logan, looking down. Logan swiftly mirrors his movement, negating Duncan's efforts to get away. It's not entirely as if he has him pinned against the bank of lockers, but the implication is there.

"Here's good," Logan says lazily. He flattens his palm against Duncan's locker door; he rolls his hips, pressing closer.

"Don't." Duncan speaks the word a shade too loudly, so that it seems to hang in the air. He sees the subtle shift in Logan's expression; the way his eyes darken and his jaw tightens.

This is the moment Logan could pull his fist back and punch him. Duncan imagines he feels the sting of a fist connecting with his face, as Logan instead leans closer and murmurs, "well now you're just turning me on . . ."

"Logan—" Duncan begins; a plea or a warning, he isn't sure which. He has always said Logan's name in the same way: wistful, antagonised, reluctantly amused. But a new undercurrent of bitterness sparks dully against the roof of his mouth. Logan kisses him before he can finish his sentence. The kiss is slightly rushed; slightly more performance than anything else. But Duncan feels the charge of everyone watching them; he knows that when Logan pulls away, it will be with a smirk.

Overhead, the bell rings. Duncan is vaguely aware of the tide of students heading to their classes; it's a faraway roar, a prickle on the edge of his consciousness. Logan kisses him harder, before pulling away suddenly. Duncan blinks. Very close by, Logan is smirking, and behind him, people are staring.

"Don't want to be late—" Logan slides out of Duncan's personal space. He fidgets slightly (Duncan recognizes the indistinct urge to crawl out of his skin). He still looks smug—'smug' is about as close to 'happy' as Logan gets these days. "I have Physics," he says, "so much to learn, so little time—"

Duncan realizes Logan is looking past him now, his smirk hardening into a darker smile. Without warning, Logan leans forward and places one last kiss on his lips. Then he is gone, swallowed up by the bright stares and burgeoning rumours circulating in the crowd.

Duncan hears a voice behind him. "I guess it's true," she says. When Duncan turns to look at her, he sees the ghost of a sour smile cross her lips. Her expression could almost be described as thoughtful, if it weren't for the hardness in her eyes.

Veronica continues, "every action has an equal and opposite reaction."