Is this what that means?

I was supposed to write a scene with tension between the characters – where someone is hiding something. I think this qualifies… Logan is definitely hiding something from Cyrus at this point. Although, Cyrus has already guessed at what it is. Cyrus, for his part, is hiding something from Logan. That remains known to only me and Cyrus at this point in the story, though.


Cyrus paused to frown at him and Logan shook the thoughts away. Smiling, he said, “What?”

“What?” Cyrus said, mimicking him perfectly. He laughed and shook his head, turning back to the kitchen. “That was you, undressing me with your eyes again. That’s what!”

Logan stifled a laugh. “I don’t undress you with my eyes,” he protested, as he moved to his feet and followed Cyrus into the kitchen. It was clear that Cyrus had started his cleaning in this room. All the metal surfaces seemed to gleam in the early morning sunlight. Even the wooden surfaces seemed brighter than normal.

“No,” Cyrus said, his tone doubtful. “Not at all. You just imagine me in my altogether, yeah?” He chuckled and shook his head. Waving a finger at Logan, he said, “You look at me like that – with those thoughts in your head – and you wonder that them at school think we’re dating!”

Logan stifled another laugh and shook his head. “As I recall, it was you, my dear Cyrus, that was shocked by that bit of news,” he said. “I’d known for some time about those particular rumors.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Cyrus said, moving over to the stove.

“At the time, that’s all they were: rumors,” Logan said. He shook his head and sat down. “It didn’t seem important to tell you what they were saying.” He looked over at Cyrus again and saw that the younger man was frowning at him. “What?”

“At the time, you said.” He tilted his head to one side, “What are they now, then? We’re not dating, not so far as I know. You think different?”

A teasing smile touched Logan’s lips. “You came with me to England on summer holiday,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “We’re sharing this cottage. What would you call it?”

Cyrus flushed and spun away. “You are an incorrigible flirt is what I’d call it,” he snapped. Shaking his head and mumbling to himself, he dished out two bowls of porridge. He poured them each a cup of tea and then set the meal in front of Logan.

“Thank you,” Logan said, a faint smile playing at his lips.

As he started to eat, Cyrus said, “You’ll wipe that self-satisfied smile off your lips, or you’ll wear that porridge.” When Logan looked up at him, a practiced expression on innocence on his face, Cyrus glared at him. “We are not dating!”

“Not at all,” Logan said, schooling his expression. He turned back to his meal and smiled again. “You’ve come to England with me, at my invitation. We’re sharing this cottage, so that I can protect you. You’ve made us this fine breakfast, because… why?” he said, looking over at Cyrus archly.

“You slept in, didn’t you?” Cyrus said, flushing further. Shaking his head, he focused on his food. “You make me crazy. You do know that, yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” Logan said, smiling, “and I enjoy each moment of it.”

Cyrus nodded. “Just so we’re clear,” he said, his voice soft.