Author's Note: Hi. You're probably wondering-if you've READ Something to Sleep to-where the next chapter is. Again, a lot has been going on my life, including my very own sense of loss this year, and I have had writer's block. However, this story, among others, has seemed to break it, and I'm slowly getting it done.
This story is loosely based on the connections established in StSt, but with a twist. It's not required to read, but I'd recommend it, so that you have a better understanding of the relationships between the characters, and where it's going.
But not to this extent, of course.
Maybe.
For those of you who haven't read it, Something to Sleep an AU Kendall/James/OC fic about a girl who returns to Minnesota after the tragic death of her parents to live with the Knights. It deals with friendship, loss, abuse, romance, death, and so much more. Mia has a connection with all 4 boys in the story, but she connects the most with Kendall, as their mothers grew up together. It has both het and slash in it, primarily in the form of Kames, though other couples will be mentioned throughout the fic as well. Needless to say, there will be a triangle between the three, hence the triangle in this particular fic.
This story features Mia, the OC in that story, as well as Kendall and James. It is an established 3-way relationship fic, which means that there will be het AND slash mixed together with angst.
I had reservations about posting it, since StSt is still in its infancy, BUT I have been pushed by someone to do this, so here it is. It's been read over twice, but it's entirely possible that there are errors, so I apologize if there are.
Although the fic itself is in third-person, the narration is Kendall-centric-as in, although the narrator uses HE a lot, he's mostly in the mind of Kendall. Names are purposely left out until the end. This fic takes place in L.A. rather than Minnesota, the premise being that Mia tags along with them.
I hope you enjoy it.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own BTR, but I do own Mia. Though owning BTR would be nice.
WANT AND WONDER
He knows it's wrong.
Yet, that doesn't stop him from closing the space between them, the feeling that courses through his spine the second their lips touch, knowing that at any moment, he'll return.
He cherishes these moments with her, when it's the two of them, alone, with no interference from the outside world. He shouldn't love it so much—after all, there were supposed to be three of them, not two—yet, the indulgence is quick, so much so that he's drowning in seconds, pressing his lips harder against hers, his fingertips flush against her skin, imprinting her as if she were his own.
But she wasn't.
She never was someone to be claimed, she was elusive—slipping through his fingers before he'd even gotten a chance to touch her. The only way he could anchor her was with the help of another, and even then it was tricky. The dynamic of it all was still a work in progress, more often than not, the three of them slept alone, angry words buzzing through minds, only to converge in the morning, three halves somehow making a whole.
It didn't make sense.
Then again, it wasn't supposed to.
At least, that's what he said.
"Come on dude, it'll be easy," he says, stretching out on the orange couch beneath them. His muscles are taut, strong, even, and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to run his fingers over them, indulging in the touch.
He swears, James Diamond is like a drug.
"She's into us, we're into her…" he says, trailing off, hazel meeting green as he moved closer. "Besides, then we wouldn't have to choose." He looks down after that, eyes filled with emotion at the thought, as if he knows that this is how they were supposed to be. He can feel it too, the emptiness all but palpable, but that still doesn't stop him from saying no.
Goddamn stubbornness.
"James…" he starts, sympathetically, words already beginning to form in his head. Execution was his problem—fuck, saying no to James Diamond was the problem, one he'd been struggling with since they met, since they became like this. He hated himself for it every day.
"Just think about it," he begged, "It'll make things so much easier." He wants to push back, to be firm like he used to, but with James he's just so pliable, easily molded into whatever he wanted him to be.
He exhales.
"Fine."
He doesn't talk about the feeling he gets when James envelops him, how it multiplies when they kiss. He doesn't talk about how the world falls away, how it's just the two of them pressed skin to skin. He doesn't talk about the heat that passes between them, the breath that hitches in his throat when James's teeth hit his collarbone, pressing down in a way that makes him scream.
He doesn't talk about it at all.
He just feels.
He's feeling now, only it's different. It always was with her, something he can't explain. He just knows it's there, it always has been, bubbling underneath the surface, ready to explode at a moment's notice.
He pushes it down.
Instead, he focuses on her, the feel of skin, the moan from her lips as he deepens the kiss, the feral need to push her until she breaks, to become his and his alone, like she was originally meant to.
But she isn't.
He should have seen it from the start, the one caveat of loving the person you'd been intertwined with from birth—but he hadn't. He'd been too caught up in it all to notice James, how he'd slowly worked his way into his heart—their hearts—fingers gripping onto them like a vice. It was almost as if he'd seen it coming, their eventual collision, and wedged himself right in between.
He almost wants to hate him for interfering, to get in-between what's his, for getting in-between him, burying himself underneath his skin and staying there, without an apology. He wants to hate his need for hazel eyes, and dazzling smiles, for needing the curve of muscle, the sound of feminine sighs emanating from masculine lips.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he breaks away, his head spinning as he opens his eyes, focusing on anywhere but her, the way she's breathing, the feel of her hands as she reaches out to him, all but screaming more.
She felt the same way.
He'd always known she had—fuck, he knew her better than anybody—but he never said a word, knowing full well the consequences of their actions if he did. That doesn't stop him from imagining what would happen if they did break away, timing out how long it would be before the emptiness set in, for the inevitable realization to conquer their souls, putting them right back where they started.
They need James.
"James," he growls inwardly, as he presses her against the wall again, his eyes closed as his lips find hers, his ears catching the moan that emanates from her throat as he rolls his hips against hers, the small gasp she makes enough to end it all for him, turning him into dust.
It isn't long before James walks in.
They break away panting, his erection straining against his jeans, and he can already feel himself falling apart again—but in a different way. Hurt flashes through James's eyes, though it comes as quickly as it goes. Still, it's enough to wound him, head hanging low as she whispers:
"Jamie…"
Then it's over.
James's lips connect with his instantly, and he's already moaning, their bodies pressed tight to the point where it hurts, but feels oh-so-good.
James is nothing if not a punisher.
He breaks away, moving towards her and doing the same, the kiss intense and feral. His lips move to her neck, biting down onto the sensitive spot he knows all too well, the sound escaping her lips causing them both to groan. One leg moves around his waist as he grinds into her, putting everything he has into it, the action serving as a reminder that they are nothing without him.
He knows it by the way he forces them apart, lips connecting with James's while simultaneously pulling Mia closer, the hand that's not clutching James's shirt moving past her hips, dipping down low until he reaches….there.
James is on him in a flash.
He's against the wall again, the hand that dipped down low now resting against James's lips. A slow swipe of his tongue is enough to make them shudder before sucking on the digit completely, savoring the taste. They both know she's coming undone, that she needs them both, not just one.
It reminds him of the night they'd proposed it to her, the three of them coming as one. She'd said no at first, position staunch, charisma and smooth conversation dying on deaf ears.
"If all else fails," James said, his voice low as they stood outside of her bedroom door, waiting. "Demonstrate."
And they do. It was the demonstration that lured her, one they had been practicing for weeks, underneath cotton sheets.
"Pretend she's here," he says, breathless as they rut their hips in unison. "What would you do to her, Kendall?" A million and one things run through his mind as he imagines her there with them, watching them.
"What would we do to her?" It's the we that gets them, lips spewing fantasy after fantasy as James grinds right there, inundated by images of the girl they loved.
He snaps back to reality.
James is licking his lips, his eyes darting back and forth between them, trying to decide who to devour first. Neither of them move. They know it's James's call, and his call alone. They know better than to defy him.
It isn't long before he's feeling again.
They all are, the beautiful symmetry of tangled limbs and soft moans never escapes them, something that can only come from weeks of experience, trying to merge three bodies into one.
It's breathtaking.
He doesn't miss the way James's fingers trace over Mia's skin hours later, finding its own rhythm amidst the shallow breaths, the kind of touch that can only be associated with loss, or something close to it. They have this conversation every time, action replacing words as she touches his cheek, reminding him that she's his, while subtly interlocking fingers with Kendall.
She's theirs.
He times it out, allow them to have their moment before joining it, holding them close, lips brushing over their cheeks before locking eyes with James, kissing over his fingers.
"I'm sorry," he says mentally, tracing his thumb over this knuckles once he's finished.
"It's okay," he replies, by squeezing his hand, his eyes flickering back to Mia. It's right there, on the tip of their tongues, but they don't need to say it. Instead, they just feel, breathing in unison as they take each other in.
It's not the first time he's caught them, nor will it be his last. Sometimes, Kendall just needs those selfish moments, to wonder what might have been between them. He hates how James can easily tell the difference between this, and the other moments between them, the guilt he feels upon looking into his eyes.
He loves James, he really does, but sometimes he just…wonders, counting down the minutes until possession overtakes him, need and want overriding logic in his head.
It's a concept he still can't wrap his mind around, loving two people at once, yet he does it with such abandon that he can't see anything else, just…them.
It's exactly what he wants.