Just a quick lil somethin :)

The night Kendall and James ruined their friendship for good was one Kendall remembered more clearly than anything.

Really, he was sure he remembered more than just that night. He remembered that whole day, maybe even the whole week, with the same clarity.

"Baby." He felt a tender hand on the small of his back. "You're daydreaming again."

Kendall looked up from the kitchen counter where he stood in Dak's one-bedroom apartment, chopping berries and banana slices. Dak flipped another pancake in the pan with his free hand, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye. He smirked. "What's with you?"

"Oh, nothing . . ." It's his birthday today. "I'm just thinking."

"About . . ?" Dak flipped the last pancake onto a large serving plate. He liked to share everything; that was one of the things Kendall liked most about him. There were a lot of things to like about Dak, a vast, vast amount. And only a few of them were physical (but wow, they were big things). Really, the only thing to dislike about Dak – okay, the only things – were that if he ever heard James being brought up in conversation, he tended to get a little twitchy. Probably because he wasn't James – which, incidentally, was the other thing to dislike about him. And Kendall hated himself for feeling that.

"Honestly, it's nothing." He glanced at his watch. "I need to be at work soon."

"Baby." He felt Dak's arms creep around his waist, his breath puff lightly against his ear. "You're avoiding something. You think I don't know what time you've gotta leave at?" He sighed, held Kendall a little tighter. Kendall closed his eyes. "If it's about him . . ."

"It's just, today is . . . I'm sorry. I know you don't want to hear about it."

"Maybe not, but you're still thinking about it. I'd prefer if you'd at least talk to me about it, you know?" He put their plates on the table and plonked a large coffee pot in the middle. A dark stain of coffee splashed onto the polished wood. "Fuck."

"Here, I've got it," Kendall said, grabbing a cloth and wiping up the stain. He sighed, turning to face the man who cared for him enough to at least be there. To at least stand there with him, to look him in the eye, and he smiled. "It's just one of those days. It's just tough sometimes, you know. We were friends too . . ."

"I know, babe." Dak smiled at him and Kendall had to admire him for that; he wasn't sure if he could be that dignified if he were in his shoes. "Are we still having dinner tonight?"

"Yes, definitely. I'll come meet you right after I finish work. I can't wait. It's just you and me now, okay?" Kendall held Dak's hands and kissed him. Dak's hands found his waist and pulled him close, and Kendall let himself melt into the embrace. He did still feel a spark, and he wasn't about to let it be extinguished by something, someone, that didn't matter anymore. Someone that couldn't matter anymore. There was nothing left to say.

"Woah, woah," Dak chuckled as Kendall's hands fumbled with his belt buckle and popped open the button of his jeans. "I believe you, okay? You don't need to."

"I want to," Kendall murmured, pecking Dak's neck and dropping to his knees. "It's just you and me."

Kendall and James went way back. Way back to training wheels and swing sets, basically. None of that really mattered anymore; Kendall had plenty of friends when he was little that he didn't speak to anymore either. Crafting clay dinosaurs and building block towers didn't reveal some big emotional revelation in their adult years. They'd just been friends. Best friends. So, maybe there was something there after all. It was as though the space between them grew smaller as their bodies grew bigger. They had other friends too, to share that space with. Of course they did. And those friends were great too, just maybe not in the same way. Even now, if someone were to ask him to explain, Kendall knew he could never. He supposed that James would probably think the same, if he were ever asked. Or maybe he'd just have nothing left to say.

James lived with his mother his whole life, and his father for part of it. Until he was eight and Mr Diamond cleared out of the house to go and marry his secretary. Kendall got that. Not the secretary thing, god no, but the part of it being just him and his mom. He was the same. He had a little sister but there was still that weight, that burden of knowing he was the oldest man in the house, the only man. It came with something unpleasant in the pit of his stomach, uncertainty about who he would grow up to be because of it. He knew James felt that same fear because he told him as much on nights when the two lay curled up in sleeping bags in front of the TV, or crowded close together at a rickety café table on a Saturday afternoon. Despite the fear they shared, though, they were happy with their respective mothers. As happy as they could be, being brought up in very distant circumstances. Kendall didn't mind that (and being the poorer of the two, he was the only one allowed to mind).

James lived with his father again when he was seventeen, for his final year of school. For how long, Kendall wasn't too sure. That was when everything got fucked. Well, not exactly then. But that was exactly how it started, the night before James walked out of his life and, subsequently, out of his heart.

Never left his mind, though. None of it did.

Katie was at a friends' and Kendall's mom was just finishing herself up before heading off to work. "Can we go upstairs?" James asked him, in a different tone than usual; that lovable touch of arrogance was nowhere to be found. "I need to tell you something important."

Kendall walked to the stairs and headed up, hearing the soft steady patter of James' footsteps behind him. Kendall opened the door of his room and stepped aside to let James in first. He followed him in and shut the door. Out of habit, Kendall opened his mouth to apologise about the mess. He almost always forgot that James was almost as messy as he was – and even if he wasn't, he was well used to it by now. He sat on the bed and James followed suit, crossing his legs. He leaned back against the headboard and held Kendall's large plush Pikachu on his lap. The thing about Kendall was that he was embarrassingly sentimental; most of his old stuffed animals weren't on the bed anymore, but the rest remained in a dusty pile in the corner. Only his friends and family had ever been in his room, anyway.

"What is it, bud?" Kendall asked at last, eyeing him as he made himself comfortable against the wall. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah," James said weakly, swallowing and taking a deep breath. Squeezing the Pikachu tighter to his chest, he finally looked up and met Kendall's eyes. "I already told Carlos and Logan . . . I called them. I couldn't do it in person. But I really felt that with you, I should. Even if it's scary."

"James, please just tell me," Kendall pleaded, moving to touch James' arm lightly. It was another one of those touches the two never even seemed to notice. It was as natural as breathing to them. "It's okay."

"Okay, okay." James took another deep breath, tugging absent-mindedly at the Pikachu's ears. His eyes met Kendall's again, and Kendall was startled by how unhappy he looked. His eyes were so much darker than normal. "My mom was so, so mad about the prank Carlos and I pulled. She's gotten mad about stuff like that before, but never this mad . . . and um, she wants to send me to another school, the school she went to. It's private, mixed and super strict and proper and she thinks that'll get me to stop messing around."

James cast his eyes to the ground, and Kendall – Kendall couldn't stop trembling. "S-she can't do that," he exclaimed, trying not to let his despair show in his voice. "Sending you to some snobby school on a mountain or whatever isn't gonna change you, it's ridiculous! M-maybe I can talk to her for you—"

"Kendall, it would be great if you could, and I appreciate it, really," James said mournfully, head hung low. "But I've already tried. So have Carlos' parents, my aunts, nothing will change her mind. A-and . . . since school starts on Monday, she wants me to leave tomorrow morning. My dad lives in the area so I'll be living with him for the year. It's ironic, isn't it? Of all the people she's hoping to sort me out."

At this point there were tears in Kendall's eyes, tears he didn't even care to brush away. "So that's it," he said, letting himself fall weakly against James's body. "I . . . we won't see you again until when, November?"

"I'm not even sure yet," James murmured into Kendall's shoulder. "But at least not until then."

"I'm gonna miss you so much," Kendall choked, trying to hold him tighter.

"Don't stay up too late, boys!" Jennifer's voice suddenly rang cheerily through the door, before they heard her running down the stairs and leaving for work, slamming the front door behind her.

"I can't believe this is happening to me," James sighed, flopping back from Kendall's arms and lying down on his head, arms and legs spread wide. "I'm gonna miss so much with you guys this senior year. All the milestones. I was gonna try and get Carlos his first girlfriend!"

"I would say I'll try and do the job for you, but it wouldn't be the same," Kendall said with a matching sigh, lying down beside him. His head rested on James' outstretched arm, but it was comfortable and neither of them cared at this point. "He'll just have to try on his own."

"I'm gonna have to make new friends," James wailed dismally. "I mean, obviously I'll have no problem, because of my charm and good looks—"

Kendall rolled his eyes.

"—but that doesn't mean I want to. I like the friends I have here. You guys are the best, I don't need anyone else."

"Aww, Jay, you little cutie you," Kendall cooed, squeezing his cheek and making him chuckle. Despite this terrible tragedy hanging over their heads, they could still almost forget about it when they were together. They had a habit of erasing any negativity the other was feeling with just a simple word or touch.

"I could really do with a drink right now," James said suddenly and sat up, Kendall's head flopping back down on the bed. "You got any?"

"I can go take a look," Kendall replied with a nod, getting off the bed. "I'll be back in a minute." He left the room and hurried downstairs to the kitchen, moving straight to the cabinet where his mother kept the alcohol. Rifling through it, he found an almost full bottle of red wine and an almost empty bottle of Scotch. Taking them both in his hands and grabbing two wine glasses, he headed upstairs and back into his room. "This is probably the best we can get without Mom noticing," he said, dumping it all on the bed before moving back and shutting the bedroom door, even though they were alone.

"This'll do just fine," James grinned, sitting up and picking up the bottle of Scotch, opening it up. We'll split this between us first, hold out the glasses?"

Kendall did, and when James split the remains between them, there were really only two mouthfuls for each of them. He didn't mind that; it burned his throat terribly and he'd always been a lightweight. Taking a deep breath, he and James clinked glasses and each took a gulp of their drinks. "Oh god," James coughed, laughing and gagging s little. "It takes like medicine that's 90% acid."

"Kinda like that terrible tonsillitis medicine I had to take last year," Kendall chuckled, giving a shudder and almost feeling queasy at the memory. He finished his Scotch, as did James. "It was the most disgusting tasting thing I've ever had."

"When are you going to get those removed?" James asked impatiently as he filled their glasses with red wine, taking a sip and humming in content. "This is a lot better. You get it almost every year!"

"I don't want surgery," Kendall whined. "I like my tonsils."

"You don't need them."

"You don't know that, you're not a doctor." Kendall took a large gulp of wine, sighing and leaning back against the headboard, James doing the same. "I just can't believe you're leaving . . ."

Kendall had never seen James gulp a drink down so quickly in his life, and he followed suit. James poured them both another glass. "I wish it was all a dream," James sighed dismally. "I wish that stupid prank had never happened. It wasn't worth it at all."

"It's not fair," Kendall pouted, leaning on James' shoulder and taking another large mouthful of his drink. "Who am I supposed to watch scary movies with when you're not here?"

"You think that's bad? Without you, I'll have no one to binge on Chinese food with. You know how much I love my eggrolls, Ken!" His voice rose in hysteria.

"I know, I know," Kendall chuckled, watching James finish his drink. The brunet was blinking a little too regularly and shaking his head from time to time. Neither of them had ever been able to hold their drink for long. It was way too easy for them go get drunk together. That was partly what made it fun.

Soon enough, there was about an inch left in the wine bottle, and Kendall and James had lost themselves. "I'm gonna put these down," Kendall slurred, rolling the wine glasses (luckily they didn't break) off the bed onto the floor, and putting the bottles down beside them. Sitting up straight again, he purred and threw himself on top of James, snuggling into his chest. "Meow."

"Get offa me," James grumbled, but laughed and rolled them over so he was the one on top. "Now I'm on yoouu," he laughed loudly. His breath stank and Kendall gagged at him, putting a hand up to mess up his hair. James stared at him in horror for a moment, before roaring with laughter and slamming his head into Kendall's chest.

Kendall huffed, cupping James' face and lifting his head from his chest. "Gedoff, you're crushing me."

James stared down at him, and suddenly Kendall saw a change in his expression, something in his eyes. He felt a weak flutter in his chest and realised with a jolt how much his heart had sped up in the last few seconds. He felt his cheeks flush red hot. His head was all fuzzy and his fingers tingly, but he knew exactly what he was doing when he tugged James' face closer and kissed him.

The loud moan James let out was unexpected, to say the least. When James' hands slammed against his waist at where his t-shirt had ridden up, Kendall let his hands slide through James' hair, feeling how soft it was beneath his fingers as the continued to kiss him. He had no idea where this would go, but suddenly he knew he didn't want it to stop. His whole body felt warm now, every inch of him tingling with something new and unfamiliar, and yet so comforting it might have always been there.

"Kendall," James mumbled against his lips, and the tone of that was enough to make Kendall swallow a moan back for fear of embarrassing himself. He wanted to hear nothing now but James saying his name in that way, over and over again.

"What are we even doing?" Kendall asked breathlessly with a weak chuckle, sitting up and forcing James to move back. Their foreheads bumped lightly together, tips of their noses touching.

"Don't ask me, as if I know," James murmured. "But I don't . . . I-I mean, er, I . . ."

"Me neither," Kendall replied quickly, hands moving to hug James' waist. "Kiss me again."

"It was you who kissed me," James argued, because he was James and he just had to. But he was grinning, and did as Kendall asked.

Kendall's hands touched under James' shirt and on his warm skin, but it wasn't enough and he wanted more. So he gripped the end of his shirt and tugged it upwards slowly, pulling back and gazing into James' eyes. Cheeks flushed, James nodded and took hold of his shirt, tugging it upwards and off, immediately going to fix his hair afterwards. Kendall's eyes fell on James' tan skin and hard body and for the first time, after thousands of times of seeing it, he was a little turned on.

"You like it?" James teased with a wink, giving a little sway. "I'd dance for you if I wasn't tipsy."

"Dance another time," Kendall grumbled, gasping suddenly when James' hands pressed hard against his back and gripped his shirt, tugging it up harshly. "Slow down!" Kendall grunted indignantly as it got stuck around his neck, tugging at his head. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, sorry," James stuttered, taking it off more gently and letting his eyes wander down slowly. Kendall watched him, swallowing nervously. For a brief moment he felt insecure about his body, knowing that he was much slimmer, flatter, much weaker than James was. But that look in James eyes told him he had nothing to worry about. Right now he found him plenty attractive, and that was all he needed. And so his confidence built up, and he allowed himself to shakily reach down and take hold of his sweatpants. James' eyes widened when he saw, and Kendall could swear he saw him lick his lip a little.

"Let's both take everything off," he said eagerly, grabbing Kendall's hand and standing up, tugging him off the bed. The two stumbled a little and laughed, bodies shaking a little. "And at the same time we'll look, okay?"

"Th-this is crazy," Kendall giggled, but he nodded. "Should we turn around or close our eyes?"

"Um, turn around I guess, come on." James turned his back to Kendall and the blond quickly did the same, facing the bed, heart pounding when he saw the already rumpled sheets. This is really happening, he thought to himself shakily as he tugged his pants and boxers down in one go, kicking them off and pushing them gently away with his foot. He folded his arms nervously, staring at the wall and bounding lightly on the balls of his feet. He was already half hard; he reached a hand down tentatively to stroke himself a little and bit his lip, trying to stay quiet if possible. "What's taking you so long?" he asked weakly.

"Sorry, it was those skinny jeans, I'm ready now . . ."

"You and your boyband pants," Kendall chuckled, shaking his head.

"You wear them too!"

"Not now!"

"You were at home, probably eating your weight in snacks, why would you be— never mind, it doesn't matter. Let's turn around."

"Okay." Kendall took a deep breath, nodding even though James couldn't see him. "One, two, three." He pivoted a little clumsily and tripped slightly, quickly steadying himself and clearing his throat, trying to be calm. Even though James, his best friend since kindergarten, James was standing right there and he was naked and gorgeous.

"Wow," they both breathed softly at the same time, chuckling at each other's response and blushing. "I've never, um . . ." Kendall scratched the back of his head nervously and tried to keep looking at James' face. But it was pretty difficult. "Looked at you this way, I guess."

"Me neither, why would I? We're best friends, so . . ."

"Yeah, exactly. But, um . . . I don't mind the change, I guess. Heh . . ."

"Yeah," James repeated with a cheesy grin, suddenly closing the gap between them and reaching out to touch him. "Me neither."

The two threw themselves back on the bed, chuckling and kissing each other as their hands wandered freely, rubbing and squeezing and tickling a little to make the other laugh. "Have you got any condoms or lube or anything?" James asked suddenly, arms tight around Kendall as he pressed open mouthed kisses to his tan chest.

Kendall looked up, nodding and reaching over to the bottom drawer of his nightstand. "In here." His cheeks flushed when he took the box of condoms and tube of lubricant out. Both hadn't been opened.

James smirked at Kendall's red cheeks. "Dude, chill. I know you're a virgin, it's cool."

"You don't know that for— okay, yeah, fair enough. But so are you!"

"Pfft, I . . . yeah, maybe. So what? I don't think that crap is a big deal anyway. It's just a bunch of lies they make up to make you wait until marriage."

"Good point. So you don't wanna stop, or . . ."

"Are you kidding? No way. You're like, really hot and I never noticed before. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean," Kendall chuckled, peeling the plastic off the top of the tube and opening it. "Okay, let's move on."

"I think I'll need to use that on you," James quipped, taking it back. "Dude, you know I'm stronger than you are."

Kendall nodded and gave a little shrug, accepting his argument. He wasn't particularly afraid of that anyway. What mattered to him was that they were doing this, it didn't make a difference who topped who.

It took a while for them to get to it; there was a lot to get used to, a lot to figure out about working each other's bodies. But then it was happening and it was just so so good. Kendall's fingernails were bitten short but they left welts in James' skin as he scratched down his back, not even intending to do so. The bed creaked and rocked under them and James kept grunting in his ear and groaning his name against his cheek and all Kendall could do was cry "James, yes . . ." over and over and over until he had no breath left in him.

It felt as though it lasted only a second, and yet a whole lifetime. As though they'd fallen into their own secret place where nothing, not even time, could touch them.

The two of them lay there together on top of the comforter, exhausted but possibly more content than they'd ever been. At least, that was how Kendall felt. He couldn't help shutting his eyes and letting out a little hum of content, snuggling closer against James' body. "That was pretty hot," Kendall murmured at last, pleased with the outcome. "But I'm gonna hurt like hell tomorrow."

"Sorry about that," James chuckled, lightly kissing the top of his head. "Can't be helped, really."

"That's true," Kendall said softly, smiling sleepily.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me," James said quickly, gently pulling away. "I've gotta go home."

"Oh, right . . ." Kendall tried to mask his disappointment with a carefree smile and a, "You're welcome to stay over."

"I know, bud, that's not the issue. Um . . ." Scratching the back of his head, James quickly stood up and grabbed his underwear, putting it back on. "I don't want to say goodbye to you again tomorrow," he admitted, turning back to look down at his best friend. "I want this to be our goodbye, I guess. Sorry if that sounds lame, but it's a pretty good send off and I don't wanna ruin it."

"I understand," Kendall replied with a small smile, watching James get dressed. "I won't come see you before you leave."

"Great. That's best, I think." Slipping into his shoes, at last James knelt down by the bed and kissed Kendall once more, very tenderly. "Bye, Kendall," he said quietly, eyes shining. "I'll text you. Thank god we don't live in the Middle Ages, right?"

"Right," Kendall chuckled, nodding. "Try to make the best of your new school. Have dorm parties or something. If anyone can get that going, it's you."

"You're right about that." James stood up again, walking quickly to the bedroom door, opening it and turning back to look at Kendall one more time. The blond waved, and James grinned and waved back, before leaving the room and shutting the door.

Kendall slumped back down onto the pillow, letting out a long sigh. James was probably right, anyway. This was the best way to end things. Seeing him off the following morning would definitely lessen the impact.

He fell fast asleep before he could think about it much more.

He woke the next morning very stiff and very sore. He also smelled pretty badly of sweat, and of course, sex. He'd have to change the sheets and take a long shower . . . He rolled over onto his back and stare at the ceiling, mind immediately flashing back to what it looked like last night while he lay there with James and had sex . . . or made love, or fucked, or whatever . . . The ceiling looked pretty much the same. There was a little crack in the paint that he hadn't noticed before.

He turned to look at his clock, seeing that it was already past 10:30. James was definitely gone. He felt his mouth tremble, corners being forced downwards and he had to take a long breath and sit up quickly, refusing to let himself cry. He would see James again soon enough, and they could still talk on the phone and everything. He wouldn't lose his best friend.

But their last night together . . . neither of them were drunk enough to not know what was going on, he was positive of that. He knew how well he could handle his alcohol by now. So, what did it mean? Did it even mean anything? Was it just the heat of the moment, would they never mention it again? It seemed hard to believe that could actually happen . . . at the time Kendall had agreed it wasn't a big deal, perhaps he even thought that at the time. But now, no, it was a big deal. How could it not be?

While James went off to another school, away from him, could he really just forget it had ever happened?

He thought about those things long after, for far too long. He wondered so much he almost drove himself crazy. The first couple of weeks of his senior year were rough. He felt like he saw James everywhere he went. Anytime anyone touched him he was reminded of that night – which, yes, inevitably led to some uncomfortable moments. But even though that wasn't quite the end of everything, it was the beginning of the end. It was the catalyst. So in the end, that was what wrecked everything. It should never have happened – and yet he constantly found himself wishing to be back there and just stay in that moment for as long as he could. He remembered how terrified he'd been in his own body; how he felt comfortable within himself now, but sometimes became overwhelmed by the feeling of empty space all around him.

"Kendall!"

Kendall looked up from his spot at the counter. "Hmm?"

Logan shook his head. "Extra hot?"

"Right, right. Sorry." Kendall's fingers tapped sharply on the large buttons of the till, clearing his throat. "Latté and a blueberry muffin, five dollars please."

"Are you okay?" Logan asked, handing him a bill with a soft smile. "You're in another world today."

"I'm just . . ." Kendall cleared his throat, grabbing a takeaway cup and stepping aside to the coffee machine. "I've got stuff on my mind. I'm fine."

"Is everything okay with Dak?"

"Everything's fine. Better than fine. He's a great guy."

"I know he is."

Kendall knew it too. He placed Logan's order on the counter in front of him. "It's James' birthday today."

"I know." Logan deftly ripped open a pack of brown sugar and added it to his coffee, giving it a sharp little stir as he said, "I called him this morning. Is that what this is all about? Why don't you just text him and wish him well?"

"I can't."

"You mean you won't." Logan picked up his drink and shoved the paper bag with his muffin into his hefty coat pocket. "You know he still thinks about you. I can tell by him. You guys are being stupid about this whole thing."

"Well, the whole thing was stupid. It shouldn't have happened."

"I don't think that's true, but I guess that's up to you." He stepped back from the counter. "I need to get going. Just think about it, okay?"

Kendall couldn't help snorting. He barely ever managed to not think about it. But he nodded and threw Logan a grateful smile. He didn't need to lose him too.

Being friends for so long, it was only natural that Kendall and James would occasionally argue. Mostly about stupid things, obviously. You ate the last cookie. You stepped on my foot. Quit snoring, you troll, I'm trying to sleep. Funny things. But their fights stopped being so funny when they couldn't be in the same room to make up again afterward. And then, you know, there was that lingering memory hanging over both their heads.

They started to pick at each other over similarly small things, the way they had before, but there was a new layer of spite lurking underneath, of judgement, of bitterness. Why didn't you call me back? You sure do seem to talk about her a lot. I'm too busy to talk. Quit interrogating me. Everything, somehow, turned to their new friendships and old rivalries. How James just had to bring up that he still couldn't stand Tad Jones, one of their classmates, even though they were damn close in personality. How Kendall knew James loved brunette girls and he seemed to be hanging out with a lot of them at his new school. He could see it all over Facebook. And it got on his last nerve because it should have been them together, but he couldn't just say that. If James thought that too, surely he would have said it. And there was nothing they could do about being apart; it was nobody's fault though sometimes, Kendall did forget that. Which only made him angrier. Angrier and lonelier. Looking back now, he knew that all that anger stemmed from missing James, from longing for him. But back then it started to turn into jealousy, bitterness. It started to feel like hatred on both sides.

One night Kendall sat with his laptop sitting on his folded legs, gripping it tight with clenched fists because James had mentioned her, again. "Look," he said at last. "Is there something you want to tell me about Ruth?"

James rolled his eyes. "It's Rachael, and you know it."

"You talk about her every fucking day." He wanted to scream. He wanted to ask, Do you ever talk to her about me?

"So what if I do?" James snapped. "I like her, okay?"

"You like her."

"I like her." James rolled his eyes. "Look, I've said it. Are you happy now? We're miles apart, what do you want me to do? What even is this?"

Kendall should've said something. But he said nothing.

"We've been on a couple of dates and I didn't want to tell you because you're so weird about all that stuff now." It felt like James had just kicked him in the stomach. "Look, you're not the last person I've been with. I'm sorry about that, and I'm sorry if you're still hung up on me being your first—"

"Fuck you."

"Grow up."

"You think I've been sitting around desperately waiting for you?"

"Oh, haven't you?"

"No. I've been around too." Kendall's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and before he could stop himself he spat at the screen, "I sucked Tad off at Jenny Tinkler's party."

And James' expression transformed. His eyes suddenly remembered a child's. His mouth shook. "Tad? What?"

"Mhm. In the spare room. He loved it." He bit his lip, the desire to lash out and hurt too strong to resist now. "He's thicker than you."

And James' face disappeared from the screen immediately, returning Kendall to his home-screen. He slammed his laptop shut and shoved it away, breath breaking out in uneven puffs as he pressed back against his bedroom wall, head in his hands. Fuck him. Who needs him anyway? He started it. It's not my fault. I waited for him. I waited. I can't wait forever.

He felt cruel, felt nasty, when he recalled the look on James' face. But the worst part of it was that it wasn't just him lashing out, trying to get James back. Part of it was, sure. But he hadn't spoken a single lie. And that was almost worse than just making it all up to get to him. It was worse that he could remember Tad's hands tightly gripping his hair just as vividly as he remembered James touching him with such tenderness . . .

When James came home for a brief visit at Christmas, they saw each other all of twice, in Carlos and Logan's company. The two stared at each other for what felt like a full minute of discomfort, with their friends standing between them, eyes darting back and forth.

James had spoken first, asking him how was Tad. Kendall said he was doing pretty good. Logan asked why they were talking about Tad. Next thing, the two were screaming, yelling. A couple of shoves. And James told him to go bend over Tad's desk, and Kendall told he would, "again". That part wasn't true. But the very next day, he did just that. And he told Tad to mark him, so that he could show him. And Tad laughed, and he did. But when Kendall saw James next, he only caught a glimpse of him wrapped in some strange boy's arms. And he felt violently ill. And he never did show him the marks Tad gave him, nor did he tell him about them. He didn't tell him about anything, actually, ever again. James went back to his father's house after a week and Kendall didn't see him again.

He was sure that James knew seeing him with a boy would hurt him more. That being with him wasn't a onetime thing. But it wasn't fair to just pin that on him; he knew telling him about Tad would hurt him just as much. At the time, he was just thinking about the shots coursing through his bloodstream and how he'd always though Tad was a little cute, but he hadn't meant it. Now he meant every bit of it. They both meant to hurt each other; they'd never done that before. Never. The intention was what made all the difference.

Kendall had long left school now. At least it felt like it; he studied sports and nutritional science five days a week, and worked in the café on the side. He met Dak in the on-campus bookstore; they both reached for the same Minnesota Wild binder, and laughed about it, and Dak said he could have it. And Kendall insisted he take it. And they went to grab a coffee. Dak was from out of town, so Kendall preferred to stay over at his place rather than the other way around; he was still living at home to save some extra cash. Dak was a very sweet person. Kendall felt like he didn't deserve him most of the time. Especially when, especially lately, his mind wandered far too much to still consider it to be faithful.

If he had just been honest and told James how he felt back then, things would surely have been different. Or maybe James would've rejected him and it would have been a different kind of awful; that uncomfortable, bitter but still trying to be friends kind of awful. Both would suck pretty hard. Maybe they were inevitably meant to end like this. Some relationships were just destined to fail. Maybe theirs was one of them. Maybe it didn't matter if he reached out to James or not; a hand of friendship didn't mean anything for them anymore. Was the spark gone? They'd been apart for too long for him to know.

His phone gave a little chirp and he glanced at the screen. His cheeks flushed on reflex as he read the text from Dak; I'm just out of class, can't wait to see you later. xx

He smiled to himself, typed a quick reply – Can't wait either. I'm buying tonight x – just as a small group of customers walked through the door. After he took their orders and began prepping the drink, his mind drifted to the first night he'd spent with Dak. There were some similarities, as he looked back; the same lull from an excessive amount of drink. The same stumbling, same giddy feeling of not having a clue what to do, but not really minding. And it was nice, not waking up alone. Not feeling alone. A feeling of fulfillment that lasted and didn't collapse into despair. That was nice too.

He remembered the last time he spent James' birthday with him; it was his seventeenth. They organised the biggest party they could because he'd had a tough time in school that previous week; a bad history test and all that. Kendall got his favourite type of cake (large with lots of frosting) and they invited as many classmates as Ms Diamond would allow. James had an incredible time; he said as much in the early hours of the morning when he and Kendall were the last ones left, tidying up paper cups and broken streamers and still both choking on the laughter of a sugar high. They fell asleep on James' floor in a mound of blankets. Kendall woke up the next morning with a headache and half his body splayed across the bare wooden floor. And he started to laugh again.

When closing time came, he swept the floor deftly and leaned up the last of the empty coffee cups. The sky was clear outside, though he knew when he stepped out there would be a slight chill. He picked his phone up from where he'd quietly been playing music on the counter. He turned it off and in the silence, opened up a new text message and stared hard at the screen.

He wondered what it would feel like to touch him again. Would it be like touching a stranger?

He still had James' number saved in his phone. He hoped it hadn't been changed since. He took a deep breath and typed as quickly as he could before he could change his mind; Happy birthday :) hope your day was good –K.

Maybe James didn't have his number anymore. It made sense to sign off in some way. He stared hard at the screen, tapping mindlessly on a blank space, biting his lip hard. His thumb darted down and he pressed send before he could change his mind. He dropped the phone down on the counter and took a deep breath, reaching to pick up his car keys. He had just picked them up when he heard the loud trill of a text message received and glanced at his phone. The screen was black. He looked up towards the door.

James held his cellphone in his hand; when their eyes met he shoved it into his pocket immediately and let his arms drop to his sides. But his hands stayed raised slightly, palms upturned. He was reaching for him. Kendall walked around the counter and moved towards him. He held out his arms and thought back to all those nights he'd spent feeling he had nothing without him.

James enveloped him tight in his arms. Kendall choked on the air around him and squeezed his eyes shut. And feeling James wrapped around him again, remembering what it felt like then, and realising what it felt like now . . . his eyes filled with tears. He knew now, deep in the pit of his heart - a heart that was finally healing - what the answer was. He took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of James' cologne against his shoulder. He didn't want to speak the truth into existence. But this time, somebody had to. He opened his eyes. "James," he murmured. "James . . ."

"Kendall."

"It's too late." He sniffed. "It's too late."

James looked at him; his hand touched Kendall's cheek. He gave a small sigh. "You know . . . I was afraid of that."

Kendall dried his eyes. He felt alarmingly calm. "I'm so sorry about everything."

James hugged him again, tighter than ever. And he found that when he pulled away, he was able to let go. "I'm sorry too," James said. He took a deep breath. He kissed Kendall in the softest way he'd ever been kissed. It was mercifully short. "I love you, Kendall."

Kendall smiled. "I love you too."

James cleared his throat, putting on what Kendall recognised as his bravest smile. Yes. It was time for them both to be brave. "So, is it too late to order a coffee too?"

"I'm about to close up . . ." Kendall glanced out the window at the emptying street. "I'm going for dinner though right after this," he said, looking back at James. "With my boyfriend." He gave James' hand a quick squeeze. "Do you want to come? I think you'd like him." And he really did.

James grinned. "If he makes you happy."

Kendall nodded. He picked up his jacket and pocketed his phone. "Happy birthday, bud."

James threw an arm around him, as the two exited the café into the night. "I missed you."