Logan & Sab
Copyright © 2025 by OctiWriter EN
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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First edition
“Man, I just had the best night of my life!” I said, grinning ear to ear at Sebastian Hargrove—or Sab, as I like to call him. “That girl Lia I told you about? She was something else, I’m telling you.” I leaned back, basking in the memory, but Sab just looked at me like he had the weight of the whole UK on his shoulders. Don’t worry, though—he wasn’t mad. That’s just how he is. If he couldn’t handle my loud mouth, we wouldn’t be best friends.
“That’s… nice,” he said, his voice stiff and polite like always. Sab’s still a virgin. How do I know? Well, it isn’t exactly a mystery, given we live in a town so small you can’t sneeze without someone blessing you. Besides, Sab’s the kind of guy who’d flat-out tell me if he didn’t want to hear about my adventures. He’s direct like that—must be a British thing.
“Man, she was so tight,” I went on, grinning. “I mean, just imagine how much tighter her other hole is—damn.” I cut myself off before things got too vivid. No way was I getting hard sitting here next to Sab. Didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, you know?
“Must be nice,” he repeated, but this time there was something in his tone I couldn’t ignore. After all these years, I’ve learned to read between the lines with Sab. He sounded… sad?
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, tilting my head. He glanced at me, like he was thinking whether to spill his guts or keep them locked up. Sab isn’t the type to rain on somebody’s parade, especially not mine. “Come on, out with it. What’s bothering you?”
He let out this long sigh, staring down at the bed like it held the answers to life’s big questions. “It’s just… it must be nice,” he mumbled, and I figured I knew what he meant.
I reached over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, man,” I said gently. When he didn’t, I grabbed his chin and lifted it so his eyes met mine. “You’ll get laid one day too, alright? You’re still young—”
“It’s not that!” he snapped, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard. “Sorry,” he muttered, softer now. “It’s just… I’m so sick of waiting. I’m twenty, for God’s sake! I should’ve done it years ago. I don’t want to get old and have no experience, you know? And then what? I finally get out of this miserable town—if I ever do—and I’ve got nothing to show for it. I hate this place, man. Sometimes I wish my parents had never brought us here. You’re the only reason I haven’t lost it completely.”
I didn’t know what to say. How do you comfort someone about something you’ve never had to deal with? I mean, I get it—kind of. But I knew it had to be rough for him.
“Aw, hell, Sab. I’m sorry,” I said, my voice softer than usual. My thumb brushed along his jawline, hoping it’d help somehow. “You’ll find someone, and when you do, they’re going to be one lucky son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, right,” he said, the sarcasm practically dripping from his words. “It’s not just about that, you know. I’m tired of feeling so bloody lonely. I hate that I like men. I wish I could just be… normal.”
“Hey now, you are normal!” I said, louder than I meant to. Sab flinched, and guilt punched me in the gut as I saw the tears welling up in his eyes.
“…We both know that’s not true,” he whispered. A tear slipped down his cheek, and before I knew it, I reached out to brush it away. Then I pulled him into a hug, holding him tight.
“I’m so sick of being lonely,” he said, his voice muffled against my shoulder. My hand found its way to his hair, running through it gently. If no one else would hold him like this, I sure as hell would. Sab’s my best friend, and if he needs me, I’ll be here for him—always.
After crying for a few minutes, he calmed down, but neither of us let go of each other. Why? Well, I didn’t let go because it felt nice holding him in my arms. I figured he felt the same way. That’s when an idea popped into my head—completely out of nowhere. “Hey… you know how we could make this even better? More comfortable, I mean.” My back was starting to hurt a bit, sitting cross-legged like I was. Not exactly the best cuddle position.
“How?” Sab mumbled, his voice muffled from where his head was still buried in my shoulder.
“What if…” I paused. I mean, we’re just friends, right? Friends do stuff like this all the time. Girls cuddle all the time—what’s the difference? Why can’t we do the same? “What if I lay down on my back and you… you rest your head on my chest?” I guess that’s a weird way to say “let’s cuddle,” but whatever.
“It’s alright… you don’t have to do this just because I’m a lonely freak.”
“Hey, you aren’t a freak!” I protested, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Quit with the self-loathing. You’re the best person I know. And I’m not doing this because you’re lonely. I—” I had no idea how to finish that. Hell, I was feeling a lot more than just a friendly hug right now. “I like how… how we’re holding each other. Damn it, I don’t know what I’m saying. Point is, everyone likes cuddles.”
“Even a big guy like you?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Yep. Even a big guy like me.”
A few seconds passed in silence while I kept running my fingers through his soft brown hair. He finally pulled back and said, “Alright,” avoiding my gaze. He was probably a little embarrassed, but I didn’t comment on it. Instead, I moved back a little, and so did he, giving me some space to stretch my legs on the bed as my head hit the pillow. Sab slowly moved forward and lay down, his head resting on my chest as his hand found a place beside his face.
The only sounds now were his hitched breaths from crying and my deep, steady breaths, feeling his weight on top of me. It felt way better than I thought it would. Maybe it’s because he’s heavier—like most guys are compared to girls—but whatever the reason, I didn’t want this moment to end. My hand found its way back to his hair. It felt like it was drawn to it, like a magnet. The other hand, without thinking, found his hand and wrapped around it. Now, I’m not into the whole “cute guy stuff,” but even I had to admit how damn cute we probably looked if anyone had been watching. It’s not gay if you’re wearing socks, right? Nah, that’s just for sex. This is just cuddling.