1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
It wasn't that Logan didn't like sex before, because he did.

He really, /really/ did.

But being with Julian was -

Well.

Sex had always been fun, had been pleasurable. More so with some partners than others, but except that first, terribly fumbling experience, Logan thought he was lucky enough to claim that he'd never had /bad/ sex with any of his partners. He was egotistical enough to take most of the credit for it, being the more active partner in most of his soirées, but even then, this was different.

/Everything/ with Julian was different.

But, sex.

The sex was /amazing/.

It was to the point that it was, honestly, almost becoming an issue. Logan had a difficult time being in the same room as his boyfriend (/his boyfriend/) without getting heavily distracted by the /smallest/ things that Julian did. A turn of his wrist would catch Logan's eye, and he'd want to use it to pull him in, or grab those wrists and pin them down, watch Julian's eyes darken in anticipation. A tilt of his neck and Logan would loose track of /everything/, itching to put his mouth on Julian's skin, morally offended that Julian's neck was left unmarked. Lollipops had been banned outside of his dorm room the first time Logan had seen him absently mouthing at one, and a sleep-rumpled Julian was more likely to be taken /back/ to bed than he was to escape unmolested.

Studying together became all but impossible; even bribing Derek to join them in an attempt to stay on topic only worked most of the time.

(Recently, Derek had started loudly discussing is past sexipades /in detail/, which was usually enough to snap Logan out of his haze of hormones.)

(Usually.)

Ultimately, Logan had been more thoroughly laid since his and Julian's first time together than... pretty much ever. In fact, Logan was positive he'd had more sex with /Julian/ than he'd had with all his previous partners /combined/.

And, see, the issue was that /even sex didn't help/. Fucking Julian over nearly every solid surface in his room (and attached suite, and sometimes the shared living area) was enough to sate his body, but never enough for his libido. Because Julian would glance at him, dazed and flushed; or he'd make a soft, sweet whining sound when Logan pulled out and, fuck, Logan wanted him /all over again/. Even when he couldn't, physically, do anything more (again, impressive, because teenage libido is /nothing/ to sneeze at), it wouldn't stop Logan from /touching/ Julian, from running his hands up the soft skin of Julian's thighs, from kissing his neck, back, chest, /anywhere/ he could reach as he trailed lower and lower until Julian's sleepy sounds once again turned desperate, as Logan found where he was stretched open and /pink/ and -

Well.

Julian hadn't really complained yet, but generally at that point he was barely able to string /words/ together, so.

Sex.

The sex was good.