Your Fingerprints Are Everywhere
By: Jondy Macmillan
A/N: Um. So. Shane, if you don't know, is James Maslow's character on iCarly. All you need to know is that he's in the Audio/Visual club at Carly's school in Seattle and he's...well, he's James Maslow? Other than that, I don't really discuss iCarly, so no worries. Now. I started this back in March. And then I promptly forgot about it. But I like the whole concept of Shane being related to James (props to whoever pioneered that), and I like writing backstory for everything ever. Eventually this fic nagged me to death until I completed it. Tada! A thousand thanks to goten0040 who was this story's fantastic beta. Also because she has has listened to me go on and on about how Sweet Valley was like, the foundation of my youth and how I'm totally jealous of her general state of twinship.
James has never gotten along with his big brother.
Big is really a huge overstatement here. Shane's got about three minutes on James, but he lords it around like those three minutes make him infinitely superior. They don't. James has got a whole stockpile of stories about the many different ways Shane has fucked up. He's saving most of them for a rainy day. Or blackmail.
But it's really a shame that James hates his brother's guts, because twins are supposed to be close. They're supposed to have some kind of freaky mutant psychic powers. Or maybe those are the kids from Escape From Witch Mountain. Whatever. Point is, James has never been able to read a single thing that's going on in Shane's head, and it's not because he's about a billion times smarter than James could ever hope to be.
It's because the guy's a douchebag, and James doesn't speak that language.
No, seriously. Shane has never supported a single thing that James has wanted to do, from singing (Shane can't carry a tune) to hockey (Shane thinks sports are for meatheads) to the time that he decided he wanted a puppy (Shane is a cat person).
They've never had anything in common.
Nothing.
Except one thing.
The real point of contention between James and Shane has always been Kendall Knight. See, Kendall belongs to Shane first.
Their friendship has never made any sense. Those three minutes between James and Shane might not mean a damn thing to James, but they do to the Minnesota school system. Shane was born two minutes to midnight. James was born a minute right after. Because their birthdays are technically different days, Shane makes the cutoff to get into school a year earlier than James can. Meaning Shane isn't even in Kendall's grade.
Hell, he doesn't even go to the same school as them. Shane is gifted. Everyone knows that. He's been attending a special private education center on the edge of their tiny town in Minnesota since like, kindergarten.
James is the one who has to go to public school. Who sits behind Kendall in class and has tried everything he possibly can to get him into a conversation. James even serenades Kendall on the hopscotch board. Problem is, he doesn't speak Kendall's language, which seems to be hockey.
James has no interest in learning douchebagese, but hockey is something he can get behind.
Only, the day James joins his school's peewee hockey team when he's eight years old, Kendall Knight, team captain, is sick. Sick and too stubborn to stay home. He sits in the bleachers while James tries out.
He sits right next to Shane.
Next thing James knows, Shane has a new best friend. Kendall finally acknowledges James. As Shane's baby brother.
It's awful.
"It's not that bad," Logan, James's dorky next door neighbor, tells him. Like Logan knows anything. The only reason he doesn't hang out with Shane is 'cause they got into an argument about whether Pluto really is the best planet and haven't spoken to each other since.
Dorks.
"It's pretty bad. Kendall is cool. If I want to be cool, I have to get Kendall to like me."
"Kendall's not that cool." Logan makes a face, and it shows just how much he knows: nothing at all.
"Yeah, he is." James groans. Kendall is amazing, and it's like he doesn't even know that James is a real boy. Every time he comes over to James's house, the only person he seems to see is Shane. It's been going like that for nearly five years now. It isn't fair.
James is Kendall's teammate.
James is in over half of his classes.
James and Kendall have so damn much in common.
But it doesn't matter, because Shane is just so much better in Kendall's eyes. James has no idea why. Shane is scrawny in all the places where James has built muscle from countless hours of hockey and dancing for popstar practice. He wears big, thick framed glasses whenever he has to do something like read, and his smile isn't nearly as brilliant because he didn't force their mom to invest in whitening. Shane has always wanted to be behind a camera, while James has always wanted to be in front of it.
He doesn't get why Kendall seems to like that.
Thing is, Kendall does like that, and James kind of figures it's going to be that way for all of eternity.
Until the divorce happens.
James isn't really surprised by it. Things have been rocky between his mom and his dad for a while, and it is no secret that Mr. Diamond is banging one of his many groupies. So no, it isn't a surprise.
James still resents his dad for it, just a little. And because Shane is never on James's wavelength, he doesn't feel the same. At first, Shane agrees to go live with their dad and his bimbo girlfriend. He acts like it's not a big deal, like he's happy to be a bargaining chip that their parents can exchange back and forth on the weekends, but then- well.
Shane comes to James one night after dinner when he's pouring over homework. Which makes zero sense. James is pretty sure that teachers make up this nonsense because they're sadists.
He's trying to figure out why they can't just write math in like, English, when Shane announces, "I'm going to go live with grandma in Seattle. This weekend."
James's head snaps up. That's really soon. It's already Thursday.
"What? What about Kendall?"
"What about Kendall?" Shane frowns at him, all squinty eyes and thin lips. James wants to tell him his face is going to stick that way. "Why is he always the first person you think of? If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a crush."
James blinks. "You're stupid."
"Actually, I'm a genius." Shane holds his head up high, but he hasn't really mastered the haughty expression that is quickly becoming James's trademark. Mostly he looks uncertain.
"Well, okay then. Have fun being a genius in Seattle," James tells him. Shane stands there, studying James like he expected something more. James doesn't know what to say. He doesn't exactly want Shane to move halfway across the country, but it's not like they've ever really been that close.
Maybe in the early years, when no one realized that Shane was going to grow into a prodigy. Maybe before Kendall. James has seen the pictures that his mother keeps lined up on the mantle; the two of them holding hands, facing the world like a single person. He just doesn't remember ever feeling like that.
James bends back over his algebra homework and tries to pretend he thinks Shane has already left.
Eventually, leaving is exactly what Shane does.
James assumes that is the end of it, but the next day at school, he's nearly bowled over by Kendall.
"Dude," James calls, trying to pinpoint what exactly has gotten his boxers in a twist.
Kendall marches right by him, ignoring James completely. His face falls. He wonders idly if, when Shane finally leaves for real, Kendall might figure out that James exists.
James probably has a better chance of becoming a popstar.
Kendall's problem becomes clear to James when Shane shows up on his doorstep later that evening, soaking wet and looking more than a little guilty.
Of course. It's always Shane.
James feels anger slice hot through his stomach, tinged with jealousy. He is suddenly certain that he is never going to be good enough compared to his brother. His fingers curl into his palms.
Shane shifts from one foot to another. He doesn't even say hi.
"James." Shane peers up at James from beneath his wet bangs. James wants to let him inside, he does, but- Shane has to open his stupid mouth. "Can you tell Kendall I said bye?"
"Weren't you supposed to go meet him?"
"He. Um. I." It's the first time that James has ever seen Shane at a loss for words. "I couldn't. I can't."
"You can too. He lives like, two blocks away. Ride your bike over there and say-"
"I can't," Shane repeats, vehement. James swallows. "Just, please. I need you to say goodbye for me."
"Okay. Fine," James agrees, glancing out at the rain. He hopes it stops by the morning. He doesn't want Shane to get on a plane when the sky looks like it wants to rip itself apart. "I'll do it tomorrow."
"No, now."
"What? It's pouring out."
"James," Shane pleads, and as much as he kind of can't stand his brother's face, James also has trouble telling him no. He thinks Shane must have inherited that from their mother.
Unfortunately, James didn't. People tell him no all the time.
"Hold on." James sighs, backing into the house. "Let me get my coat."
"Wait," Shane says, and then he peels off his wet t-shirt, handing it to James.
James stares at the shirt for a moment, letting the implications of the act sink in. He takes a deep breath. Then he says, "Wait. You want me to say goodbye as- you?"
They've pretended to be each other before. It was easier when they were younger; when James wasn't building muscle from hockey and Shane hadn't gotten so pale from countless hours indoors. They still fool people occasionally, but they won't be able to get away with it much longer.
"Take my bike," Shane orders, unwilling to meet James's eyes.
"Wait, no. Dude. What is going on-"
"Just take my stupid bike."
"No. You need it to get back to dad's. You've got a flight to catch. I'll take mine." James's bike is sitting shiny and dry in the garage. "Kendall won't be able to tell who it belongs to in the middle of all this."
Like the weather's agreeing with him, thunder claps. James thinks that he probably should not be riding a giant metal lightning rod in this storm, but Shane and Logan are his voices of reason.
Logan's not here and Shane doesn't seem to be much with the reasoning right now.
"Okay." Shane has that crinkle in his forehead that means he's worried, but he doesn't look like he plans on changing his mind.
Kendall's that important to him.
James strips off his clean, dry shirt and hands it to Shane, taking his brother's sopping wet tee and slipping it on. It's frigid against his skin. He ventures out into the cold and the wet, freeing up his bike. He straps on his helmet, casts Shane a precursory wave, and pedals off.
He's halfway to Kendall's before he realizes that he didn't really say goodbye. James doesn't let himself think about how much that bothers him.
It only takes another minute or two before he's at the Knight's. He lets his bike crash onto their lawn, racing up the steps to the house. James pounds on the door, barely registering that it's sort of late for house calls and oh, hey, doesn't Kendall have a baby sister and a mom and-
The door swings back. James is relieved to see Kendall standing in front of him, dressed in pajama pants and a threadbare shirt, a cup of pudding clutched in one hand. He's got a spoon sticking out of his mouth.
"Hi," James says, because he's scrambling for ideas on how to explain his presence. He nearly forgets that he's supposed to be Shane in the presence of this boy, his idol.
Nearly, but not quite. James did not take three years of middle school drama classes to lose character so easily.
Kendall stares at him. James is soaked through form the icy rain, hair matted to his face; shivering. When he says, "Kendall," Kendall grabs his arm and pulls him inside the house, ignoring the way he drips all over the carpet. He glances at James's shirt, and then back up at James's face, eyes clearing.
"So, what's up? Is-"
James doesn't let him finish, rushing to say, "I, uh. Sorry I'm here so late. Early wake up call," he explains, because Shane's leaving at the ass crack of dawn. Kendall nods.
"Yeah. Look. I shouldn't have- before."
James has no idea what he's talking about.
"Um. It's cool." He shrugs, hoping that Shane is willing to forgive whatever Kendall did that's so bad he needs to apologize for it. Must have been some fight.
James shivers again and Kendall says, "Dude, what were you thinking? It's the perfect storm out there."
"I was thinking that I wanted to see you."
"How about you see me over hot chocolate?" Kendall asks, snorting. He ushers James into the kitchen, and James has never really been in the Knight house before, but it's pretty nice. Cozy. He thinks about all the times Shane must have been here, curled up on the couch, studying or playing games or raiding the fridge. His big brother's got close to five years of memories in this house. Here, in the warmth of Kendall's gaze, James can't even resent him for it.
Who wouldn't want to spend as much time as possible in this place?
Kendall's pretty self sufficient for a thirteen year old boy. He whips up a glass of cocoa with marshmallows in minutes. James isn't even sure how to boil water. He's impressed.
"This is really good."
"Thanks. Um." Kendall shifts from foot to foot. "Did you see the Wild game?"
James blinks. He didn't know Shane talked to Kendall about hockey. Shane doesn't talk to James about hockey. Apparently, it's one more topic that's exclusive to their super-special friendship club.
James feels bitter.
But he really loves hockey. He starts running his mouth about the game's highlights, and before he knows it he's got Kendall animatedly joining in, describing plays and what it's going to feel like one day when he's standing on the ice, playing for the winning team. Kendall has this one smile, this soft, crooked, uncertain smile that he doesn't actually show to many people. It's kind of like a unicorn; rare and magical. James has only ever glimpsed it in peeks and snatches during his conversations with Shane, but right now, the full force of that smile is focused entirely on James. He doesn't want to move, for fear of making it disappear, but at the same time he can't even enjoy it. He can't talk about how he passed the puck to Kendall at the last game, or how epic it felt when they won.
He can't be himself.
"I should, um. I should get home," James says reluctantly, guilt pooling hot on his insides. "My, m- uh, stepmom's going to freak if I'm out any later."
"She is a little scary," Kendall agrees. "But hot."
James chokes on a marshmallow.
He's coughing, long and hard, and he has trouble stopping. He's sure that his stomach is about to throw itself up into his throat and out onto the floor to escape his mutinous body until he feels a hand at his back and a voice saying, "Dude, are you okay?"
Then there are two hands on his cheeks, Kendall's hands, and he's trying to get James's attention through his fit. "Just nod or I don't know, give me the safe word so I know that you're okay?"
"M'good," James croaks. His eyes are tearing, but oxygen is no longer something his lungs are gasping for, so he figures he'll live.
And then he looks up.
Kendall's face is close. Like, really close. James goes cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze, to reassure him that he's fine. He doesn't need the Heimlich or anything.
"Hey, you've got-" Kendall's thumb moves to the corner of James's lips, smoothing away a sticky smear of hot chocolate. He lingers there, long after the chocolate is gone, staring at James with an expression that James can't really identify.
No one's ever looked at him like this, not even the crazy girls in their grade who are always following him longingly with their eyes. James feels weird with Kendall's thumb pressed up against the corner of his mouth, and he presses his lips together. Kendall's eyes snap down, following the movement.
There's this fluttery moment, where all James can feel is his heart pounding in his chest, the way Kendall's gaze rests against his mouth like a physical weight, and the warmth of his thumb. His ears roar with possibilities.
Kendall kisses him, and it tastes like hot chocolate and sweetness; like rainwater and earth. Behind that there is the spark of something exciting and foreign, something that zings through James's veins all the way down to his toes. Kendall's thumbs press into the skin behind James's ears, and his lips are soft and dry and warm. James is wet and shivery and so cold, and the house is too still. He feels like the silence might swallow him. The heat of Kendall's hands and lips is the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.
It's his first kiss, and he feels like it doesn't belong to him.
James rips himself away, wincing as Kendall accidentally pulls out a bit of his hair.
"I- havetogo," he talks so quickly that his words bump into each other, one starting right on the end of the last, none of it making any sense. Kendall is staring at him, gape mouthed and disappointed, but James can't help it. He yells, "So, uh, bye!" already bolting out the door.
James doesn't know what to think or what to do. He's always idol-worshipped Kendall, but James likes girls. Doesn't he? His tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth. His lips taste like Kendall. The only thing he's sure about is that Shane can never find out.
James pedals back home as quickly as he can. It's still pouring, and he wipes out on wet concrete once, tearing a hole straight through his jeans to bloody his knee. When he gets home, he leaves a trail of puddles and despair in the foyer of his house. All he wants is to go to sleep. Tomorrow, maybe everything will be clearer.
Or not. James finds Shane curled up on his bed. He didn't go back to their dad's. James wonders whether Shane's waiting for news of how it went with Kendall or if he's just waiting for James. James decides, just this once, that he'll pretend it's the latter. He pulls back the covers, shucking his shirt and jeans and sliding into bed. His skin is cold and clammy, but Shane is warm, slow breathing and a gentle heartbeat. James snuggles up against him.
He falls asleep watching the soft rise and fall of his brother's chest, caught somewhere between hate and love. When James wakes up in the morning, Shane is already gone.
James walks onto the ice an hour before practice to narrowly avoid losing all of his teeth.
"Dude, sor- James?" a familiar voice shouts from across the rink.
James waves, trying to be like, no worries. He's not all that attached to his teeth. That's a lie, but still. It's Kendall. He can't find it in him to be mad when all he can think about is the ghost of those gorgeous lips on his.
Wait. Gorgeous?
James frowns, confused. Which isn't exactly a new feeling. Confusion is where he lives. He's got a white picket fence and a flower garden there and everything. Still.
That doesn't mean he likes the neighborhood.
Kendall skates over while James is in the midst of a very serious mental-lecture about how kissing boys is wrong.
He's just having trouble remembering why.
"What are you doing here?"
"Practice?" James replies, bewildered. He lifts his duffel bag and offers Kendall a shy, albeit confused smile.
"I- but-" Kendall looks tongue tied. "Your stupid brother's going to a stupid new school. In Seattle."
"Oh," James replies, like this is news.
"It's not even a private school- it's public. They've just got some amazing honors program for avionics or audio visual nerds or something. Stupid," Kendall rambles on. He seems to have lost the thread of where he was going with this conversation.
"I'm still here." James shrugs, because he figures that won't be much solace to the kid.
"You're not going to special school?" Kendall twirls his stick in his hands, and he actually looks nervous.
"Nope. Not smart enough. Besides, it would take a lot to get my mom to let me leave the state. The only reason Shane gets to go is 'cause he chose to stick it out with dad and his new wife."
"Oh," Kendall echoes his earlier statement. "Um. I didn't know you were staying."
James figures Kendall probably doesn't know very much about him at all. He doubts he even crossed Kendall's mind when he found out Shane was leaving. Which isn't really fair, considering that it seems like Kendall and that kiss are all James is ever going to be able to think about for the rest of eternity.
"I am. Um. Want to practice?"
Kendall grins. They kickstart a one on one game of hockey, batting the puck around for a bit.
"Hey, you're really good," Kendall says, sounding surprised. "Have you always been this good?"
"Pretty much," James lies, because he's been giving himself extra practice time for years to get to the level he's at, all in the hopes that Kendall would take notice.
If only he'd known all he had to do was pretend to be his brother, he thinks bitterly.
"Show me that move again," Kendall instructs. He's smiling broadly and brightly, and it's all focused completely on James.
For the first time, Kendall is noticing him for something other than Shane. The bitterness fades, just a little, and James shows Kendall the fancy fakeout he learned all on his own.
After that, James begins spending more and more time with Kendall. First at practice, then in school, and then on weekends. Logan tags along, never far from James to begin with, and then Carlos joins the group. It gets to be so that James forgets there was ever a time Kendall wasn't deeply ingrained in his life; when they weren't soaking girl's field hockey teams or playing paintball or dancing around Kendall's room like lunatics, singing made up songs about nothing. It takes nearly years, but he forgets that James Diamond was not always Kendall Knight's best friend.
James does not forget about the kiss.
It kills James wondering if that was Kendall's first kiss too, or if he's done it with Shane a million times before. It would explain why Kendall always liked Shane so damn much, and why he was never even able to notice James until Shane left. Sometimes James wonders if he's just a replacement. But James can't bring himself to ask. His friendship with Kendall is just starting to grow into something real. He's not willing to give it up for petty jealousy.
Shane is a million miles away now.
Even so, as he and Logan and Carlos and Kendall become a kind of unit in Shane's absence, the kiss sits pretty in the back of his mind. Whenever Kendall looks at him a certain way, eyes electric, smile flaring across his face as bright and brilliant as a firework, James's lips tingle in remembrance. It doesn't matter if they're on the ice or doing something idiotic at school or just chilling in the Sherwood Parking lot while Kendall works. The kiss is always there, haunting him.
Before, he just wanted to be Kendall's friend. But now? Being so close to Kendall, every single day? Yeah, James doesn't only like girls anymore. He can't understand how everyone Kendall meets isn't pinning him down and ravishing him.
Kendall doesn't help anything at all by being wonderful and amazing and James's hero in all things, especially when he scores a record deal in California that he refuses to take without James and Carlos and Logan at his side. No one's ever done anything so nice for James, not once in his entire life. If he hadn't already been in love with Kendall, he probably would have fallen for him at that moment. And life in California? It's pretty much everything that James has ever dreamed about.
It's all going so perfectly, until the day he gets the call.
James stares at the phone for close to an hour after he hangs up. He wants to have dreamed the entire conversation. He clicks back, checking the caller ID on his cell. Nope. Still not a dream. He thinks about going down to the pool and attempting to drown himself. Instead he buries his head in the bright orange pillows of their couch and hopes to god that Seattle has a horrible, flight-grounding storm.
The door to the apartment opens, but James doesn't bother trying to see who it is. He finds out seconds later anyway.
"Hey." The couch settles with familiar weight. Kendall shoves James's feet off the nearest cushion, scooting closer, and James is forced to sit up straight. Kendall takes the opportunity to hook their legs together, sagging into James's side. "Scoot over."
"Find your own couch," James says, but he's already moving, giving Kendall some space so that he can stretch out. He doesn't, though, content to lean most of his weight onto James. It doesn't dull the throb of dread pricking at James's temples, but it does perk him up a teensy bit. James pulls Kendall a little tighter to his side.
Kendall's so exhausted that he barely even notices. Gustavo's been riding him hard for extra choreography practice ever since he messed up at a live concert. He comes back from the studio later than the rest of them, reeking of exhaustion.
"What are we watching?"
James glances at the TV. "Zombie Strippers. They're strippers who are also zombies. It's genius."
"Is my mom-"
"Nope, she's out cold for the night."
"Cool." Kendall settles his head down against James's chest. He murmurs, "How was your day?" into James's armpit. His face is warm.
"Oh. Um. Good. Shane's coming to visit."
"Really?" Kendall mumbles. "S'nice. Shane's awesome."
Great. Shane is awesome and James is a pillow. He wants to make some witty retort, but Kendall's asleep within seconds. James sighs, running his fingers through Kendall's hair. He smells like sweat and strawberry smoothies.
He smells like home.
James makes a more generalized announcement about his brother's surprise visit the following morning over pancakes.
"So, uh. Guys. My brother's coming to visit. On Monday. Two days from now. He just told me." James looks immediately to Mrs. Knight. "Is that okay?"
He kind of hopes she'll say no.
"Of course, sweetie. He's your brother."
James suppresses an eye roll. His relationship with Shane since he moved to Seattle mostly consists of awkward phone conversations that devolve into belittling each other's life choices, punctuated by static and a lot of resentment. He has more in common with Katie. Shared blood shouldn't excuse the inherent rudeness of showing up at someone's door without an invitation.
"Wait, Shane's actually coming?" Kendall asks through a bite of pancake. "Thought I dreamed that."
Because apparently Kendall dreams about Shane. Awesome.
"Chew with your mouth closed," Mrs. Knight commands. Kendall's jaw snaps shut.
"Sweet," Carlos says. "Your brother's pretty awesome."
"Shane is not awesome." James is really starting to hate that word. He shovels a forkful of pancake in his mouth to keep from saying more.
"He's fantastically awesome," Katie counters. "And hot."
James chokes, flailing for air and knocking over his fork in the process. He gulps in a big breath of air. "What? He looks just like me!"
"I've never seen him have a burp off with Kendall." Katie replies airily.
"H'yeah, you have," Kendall mumbles through his food. "You just don't remember it."
"Besides." Katie glares at Kendall. "Geek chic is in, obviously."
James takes it back. He has nothing in common with Katie. Geek chic will never be in.
"You guys never said that to me," Logan butts in, indignant.
"I said chic, not-" Katie waves a hand in the air over Logan's general outline, nose wrinkling.
"Rude," Logan retorts. James feels for him. Mostly because Logan is the only one who looks less than pleased with this development. He begins mumbling something about planetary alignment under his breath. When Carlos asks him what he's on about, Logan announces, "Pluto's not even a planet. So I win."
Shane's already frying the poor kid's nerves, and he's not even in the state yet.
James doesn't even blame Logan for it. He's pretty frazzled too. James is all grown up now. He's way cooler than Kendall. But Kendall is still the only person who ever seems to beat him at anything, the only person who ever seems anything like a challenge. The only person who ever seems worth it. And Shane's going to walk into the apartment and sweep Kendall off his feet.
Panic rises in James like a tide.
That can't be allowed to happen.
As soon as breakfast is over, James launches into full scale nuclear meltdown mode. He marches back and forth across the living room, treading the imprint of his sneakers into the carpet over and over again, mumbling to himself.
"What exactly is your problem right now?" Kendall asks from his perch on the couch. He's been watching James pace for close to fifteen minutes.
"We have to impress him."
"What?"
"We have to impress him."
"Who?"
"Shane. Kendall, you're not listening, we have to impress him."
"Why? It's just Shane."
"Exactly. He thinks I'm a huge loser," James mutters, the sting of admitting it out loud too visceral for his taste. His brother should not have this effect on him when he hasn't even stepped foot in the apartment yet.
"He does not think that."
"How do you know? Have you been talking to him?" James asks. His voice comes out more sharply than he intends and Kendall gives him an inscrutable look.
"Sure. We're buds."
James's gut clenches, but he says, "Oh. I didn't, um. Know that."
Buds. He mouths the word to himself.
James shouldn't be this insecure. He's Kendall's best friend. Not Shane. Shane is just- his bud.
What does that even mean?
"We need to have a party," James decides.
"A party for Shane?" Kendall asks, doubtfully. It's clear that he doesn't think that's the best idea James has ever had.
"A party that Shane can come to and see how awesome I am."
Duh. Kendall is so dense sometimes.
"I don't think a party's going to convince-"
"Of course it is," James snaps. He knows Kendall's right, but there's no way to say that he wants Shane to come to a party so that James can show off how well he gets along with Kendall in a social setting out loud. It would sound silly and shallow.
Both of which are things James freely admits he is, but he likes it when Kendall looks at him like…like he's a bigger person.
Besides, it's pretty big of James to throw Shane a party, considering. It's the nice thing to do. Humanitarian, even.
"Right," James says slowly, drawing out the word. "Carlos?
Carlos peeks out from his nest in the swirly slide. James isn't sure what it is that he does up there, and he doesn't feel like now is the time to ask. "This party needs to be bangin', man. Can you call the Russian Acrobats?"
"I think they got deported back to Russia," Carlos worries at his lip. "I know some circus clowns."
"Clowns." James shudders, because he's pretty sure there is a childhood birthday party memory somewhere that explains his conviction that all clowns have razor sharp teeth and claws, like the raptors in Jurassic Park. Except with painted faces and knives.
"So that's a negatory on the clowns," Carlos agrees, like he can actually see inside of James's morbid fantasy. Maybe he can. Carlos has always been strangely in sync with his brain.
"Right. Right, okay. New plan. I need- Doesn't our school have an AV club?"
From the couch, Kendall drawls. "Yeah. Its name is Tyler."
"Tyler. I need Tyler."
James finds Tyler hiding behind a potted palm in the lobby. "Tyler. Dude. I need you to hook me up."
"Shh, not so loud. My mom's over there," Tyler gestures frantically towards his mother, who is hurrying through the Palmwoods like she's training for a marathon, hollering Tyler's name.
"Yeah, but. I need your help."
Tyler looks at him doubtfully. "I know a girl in 3K who would date you, but-"
James is aghast.
"Do I look like I need dating help?"
"You have been single for an awfully long time."
James has to decide between being mightily offended or begging for help. As much as it pains him, he chooses the latter. "I need help with this party I'm throwing."
"You're going to try to sneak a party past Mr. Bitters again? You never learn."
"I need the best sound system and the most impressive visual equipment you can find. We're going to blow his little mind out of the water."
"Who? Is someone coming? A movie star?"
"Worse," James makes a disparaging noise. "My brother."
Looking at Shane is like looking into a funhouse mirror after three years apart. He's scrawny and thin in all the places where James has built up layers of muscle. His skin is pale, his fashion sense is awful, and his haircut is something that needs to be rectified immediately. Their faces are the same, but the way he smiles is different, less confident, more self deprecating. And Shane's eyes- they definitely do not have the same eyes. Shane's are sharp with intelligence. James isn't sure what lies behind his eyes, but it's certainly not that piercing look, like he can see through anything.
"He looks just like you." Carlos blinks. "Wow. I forgot."
James wants to shake him, because there is no part of them that is alike.
"Shane!" Kendall cheers, enveloping him in a big hug. James's hands clench into fists at his sides. And now they're all looking at him, expecting him to have some kind of reaction to his brother's triumphant arrival. Problem is, James doesn't know what reaction he's supposed to have. He's not close to Shane, the same way he's not really close to his dad or his stepmom or his grandparents. His mom's the only one he has any kind of connection with.
Sometimes his family feels like satellites. They're all stuck in orbit, circling each other but never quite connecting.
Carlos hisses, "Hug him."
James thinks he'd rather stab his eyes out with a fork and eat them. He forces a smile. "Hi."
Shane's easy grin falters, all goodwill vanishing. He doesn't say you're not happy to see me, but the thought is broadcast, loud and clear.
"James," Kendall mutters, kicking James lightly in the back of his heel. The rubber of his Vans catches on the hair on James's ankle, pulling. James winces. He tries to force a better smile, but it's not like he's fooling anyone, least of all Shane. Which is so not cool, because James prides himself on being a talented actor. The least his brother could do is pretend to accept James's act, like a non-socially awkward human being.
Behind him, James hears a huff, and then Kendall offers, "I'll show you where you're going to sleep while James attempts to stop being a loser."
"He probably will not succeed," Carlos hisses conspicuously. James frowns at him, but Carlos is not crushed by the weight of his disapproval. Jerk.
At least Logan's on his side, sitting cross legged on the couch and completely ignoring Shane's presence. He has a gigantic book tucked in his hands that proudly declares, Pluto: No Longer A Planet, like he's making a point.
Logan is the king of all things passive aggressive.
"Am I bunking with you?" Shane asks James, who is kind of occupied with pouting. Kendall just called him a loser. And yeah, okay, maybe he is acting like a dick, and maybe the guys all throw insults at each other like breathing on a normal day, but Kendall's not supposed to put James down for Shane.
James is so busy trying to process his hurt that he fails to answer. Kendall's eyes narrow. Shane's smile flickers, again.
"If James is going to be a jerk, you can come bunk in our room. We used to sleep together all the time," Kendall reminds Shane casually, and yeah, he's probably talking about sleepovers and camping trips, but James can't help the lump that forms in his throat.
Shane's watching him, and James tries to school his face.
"You know, I think I'd rather snuggle with Logan," Shane announces cheerfully.
Logan makes this indistinguishable noise before trying to form something more syllabic, "I mean what?"
"You can do that," Kendall says without missing a beat. "Logie and I are roommates."
"Kendall," Logan squeaks, "You're consorting with the enemy."
"Shane is not the enemy," Kendall replies with a well placed eye-roll. "Don't be dumb."
"I'm a genius," Logan objects, horrified.
"Then act like it."
"James," Logan pleads. James holds up his hands. He's all for Shane being the enemy, but he doesn't want anything to do with the Intergalactic Federation of Dorkdom. It's a fight that's way older than his own.
Apparently, James says that out loud, because now Shane and Logan have both turned on him, equal parts fire and fury. Logan is all puffed up like a hot air balloon. His face even starts to turn a little red. Shane's gaze has turned dagger sharp. Kendall actually has the nerve to look amused by this turn of events. His smirk is completely uncalled for; he's the one who coined the term in the first place.
"Did I say dorkdom? I, um. Meant-"
"What are you fighting me for, James?" Shane cuts in before he can make a complete fool of himself. Logan cocks an eyebrow. James really wants him to say something about Pluto, but he looks pretty interested in the conversation at hand. Damn.
"Um. Which of us is mom's favorite," James says lamely. Lamely because he's their mother's favorite, and they both know it. Shane may be more like their clever, driven, ambitious mother than James could ever hope to be, but Shane's not the one who stuck around after the divorce. Sometimes James wonders if he did stay because he wanted to make up for being so much like their dad. If he wanted to prove that he could be loyal.
Or if it was all just for Kendall and the fact that he didn't have a fancy smart school to go to.
"Follow me," Kendall instructs, breaking the awkward silence that's formed in the middle of the living room. Shane gives James a long, hard look, and then he does.
James stares after them until Carlos announces that someone needs to take him to the park for corndogs. James takes him, but he still feels sick inside.
Later that night, he tosses and turns, imagining Shane and Kendall in bed together. It makes something hot and sharp slice through his heart, something molten pool in his belly.
Shane's only been here five minutes, and James can't wait for him to leave.
The week progresses exactly the way James expected and dreaded.
On Tuesday, James is fully prepared to carry on with his life, or at least his previous plans with Kendall. That doesn't end well. Kendall stumbles out of his room near noon, sleepy eyed, Shane at his back.
"Why are you wearing your hockey jersey?"
"We were going to play one on one," James reminds him, because he likes to be helpful.
"Yeah, but- that was before Shane came."
Right. James deflates, like a balloon, which is silly, because it's just hockey. The one thing that Kendall has never, ever turned down in his entire life and okay, yeah. James finds this mildly irritating. Shane shifts from foot to foot behind Kendall's shoulder and mutters, "We don't actually have to go to the-"
"No. The farmer's market is like, a landmark. We have to go. James, why don't you come with us? Shane hasn't been sightseeing here, ever."
"What is there to see? It's LA. We've got smog and palm trees," James replies sullenly. He shucks his jersey, right there in the middle of the living room and glares. Then he starts working on his pants. Kendall looks like he's temporarily forgotten what words are. "I'm going to the pool."
James isn't sulking. Just because Kendall and Shane are having like, farmer's market dates and acting like newlyweds doesn't mean James can't have fun too. He's going to get all squeaky clean and do something super amazing.
He ends up spending half an hour searching for a dry bathing suit. Eventually he borrows one of Carlos's, which is weirdly loose on the waist and tight in the ass. He suns himself on a lounge chaise until Camille comes along and pours a pitcher of water on his head for no reason at all.
New plan. James spends the rest of the afternoon locked in the room he shares with Carlos, pouting, until Kendall comes to retrieve him. His weight is soft and familiar when he sits beside James on his bed. "What's going on with you?"
"I hate my life," he tells Kendall, covering his face with a pillow so that Kendall won't be able to read any more into it.
"You don't hate your life. Is this about hockey? We'll play next week. James, stop smothering yourself. James-" Kendall snatches the pillow from his grasp. "You're being dramatic."
James glares at him.
"Do you want to go get a smoothie with me and Shane?"
"No." James pouts.
"Suit yourself." Kendall starts to walk away, and James can't take the view of his receding back.
Objectively speaking, Kendall's not exactly the most attractive guy on earth. His eyebrows are big and fuzzy and have a personality of their own, his hair is in dire need of styling, and he pretty much survives on the unhealthiest diet of junk food and smoothies that James has ever seen. He refuses to sit his pasty butt down in the sun long enough to get a real tan, he refuses to hang out with James at the gym, and he refuses to let James give him a manicure.
At least now he bathes on a regular basis. James remembers the hockey years, when Kendall thought it was perfectly acceptable to walk around smelling like eau de unwashed. And yet despite the fact that James's inner fashionista screams in abject horror every time Kendall walks into a room, this section of James's heart continues to claim that Kendall is the most gorgeous guy he has ever laid eyes on. It confounds him, completely.
He sits up. "Wait."
Kendall turns, giving him that big, smirky grin of his that can really mean anything from I'm-about-to-unleash-hell-on-you to I'm-staring-at-this-girl's-fantastic-tits to We're-having-burgers-for-dinner. It's that versatile. It even has the power to make James's heart speed up.
"Knew you'd break."
"I'm not breaking. Jus' want a smoothie," James says with a pout.
Maybe sugar will fix his mood.
Probably not.
"Sure," Kendall drawls, "That's the reason. Face it, James. No one knows you better than me. Except maybe Shane," he concedes.
James frowns. He's pretty sure neither of them know him very well at all.
Watching Kendall and Shane exchange banter over matching pink smoothies? Is hell.
On Wednesday, Kendall cons Gustavo into giving them the day off and forces Logan to play chauffeur while he drags Shane to the beach. Never mind that James practically begged him to do the exact same thing a week before, and Kendall had dismissed the idea as unprofessional.
They invited him along, of course, but James couldn't stand the thought of getting in that car, to see the way that Kendall and Shane kept looking at each other, or to hear Logan and Shane's constant bickering over some hunk of ice in the middle of space.
They still manage to draw James into that discussion, over dinner that night. It doesn't go well.
"Pluto's still the best. That's why there's a Disney character named after him."
"The amount of how much I care is not at all," James says.
"You're not a Venus fan, are you?" Shane's eyes widen with mock-horror.
"I don't have a favorite planet."
Both of them frown at hm. "You poor soul."
James wants to come back with a witty retort, but just then, Kendall's foot brushes up against his beneath the table. He loses his train of thought.
Mostly because he realizes it's the first time Kendall's actually touched him in two days.
In his room that night, Carlos is in the midst of putting on a pair of sleep pants when he stops and asks, "Why haven't you been hanging out with Shane, dude? He came to see you."
"Are you sure about that?" James asks sullenly, because Kendall and Shane have been attached at the hip since his stupid brother stepped foot in the apartment. "Could have fooled me."
Carlos frowns at him. He ties his pants and mutters, "You're being dramatic."
"I wish people would stop saying that."
Carlos rolls his eyes. "Dude, your brother is awesome."
"Awesome. Yeah. So I've heard."
It's not that James wants to be jealous of Shane. He's perfectly capable of pinpointing every single one of his brother's exceptional traits and acknowledging how great they are.
The problem is, so can everyone else. And no matter what, they always choose Shane. It doesn't matter whether James meets a person first or knows them longer or has more in common with them. Inevitably, they'll come to like Shane better, because Shane is likeable.
It's not even just Shane. It's Logan and Carlos and Kendall too. No one ever puts James first, other than James. People always ask why he's a narcissist, and this is the reason: someone needs to love him best, and no one else is volunteering for the job. But it's worse with Shane, because they're identical. Because when people choose him, they're not rejecting James because of his looks.
They're rejecting him because of him. Because James's personality just isn't as good.
When they're alone together, it's the only time they're on even ground, and even then. Shane makes James feel inferior. He hates it.
By Thursday, James is calling his mom, begging her to book a flight for Shane back to Seattle.
"James. Be nice to your brother. It's a special week, and you're being dramatic."
"That's what you always say," James whines. That's what everybody always says.
"And I'm always right," his mother replies breezily. "Give your brother a chance."
"You're just saying that because you like him more."
"Now you're being ridiculous. I like you both equally." She actually sniffles a little. "You're my babies. If anything, I should be the one who's sad, because you both l-left me. I should fly out there right now and-"
"Mom," James groans, guilt a bad taste at the back of his mouth.
"James?" Mrs. Knight sounds surprised. She's standing in the doorway to the apartment. "Aren't you supposed to be at the park with Shane and the boys?"
"I'm on the phone with my mom," James explains. He can almost hear his mother's disapproval. Mrs. Knight perks up, snatching the phone away from James's hand and exchanging a few happy words with James's mom. Those happy words end with, "I'll talk to him."
James doesn't like where this is going. Mrs. Knight lets James say goodbye to his mom, and then she settles beside him on the couch.
"You know, when Katie was born? Kendall hated her. Hated," Mrs. Knight emphasizes, laughing. "He fingerpainted all her baby clothes and beheaded at least two of her dolls. He tried to bribe one of the neighbors into taking her."
"Kendall loves Katie," James objects.
"Now. He had six years as an only child. It took him a while to grow into being a big brother."
Oh. James sees where this is going.
"Mrs. Knight, I've had seventeen years to grow into being Shane's little brother. I don't think anything is ever going to change."
"James, sweetie. No one here thinks of you as Shane's little brother except for you. Maybe that's the problem." She pats his cheek, all motherly and fond, and even though she terrifies him sometimes, James really misses his mom. He wishes he had more than her voice on the phone.
"Are you sure? What about-" James swallows down the sudden onslaught of his fear. He wants to be honest. He likes being honest. "What about Kendall? What if he decides he likes Shane better and leaves me behind?"
Mrs. Knight presses her fingers to her temple, nails a bright flare of red against her skin. "James. You sweet, silly boy. My son could never leave you behind."
"Do you have a headache?" James asks, indicating where her fingertips are still digging into her skin.
Mrs. Knight smiles ruefully. "I have four teenage boys and a little girl who are all growing up too fast. I always have a headache."
After she leaves, James thinks about it. He's never outright rude to Shane. He doesn't ignore any direct questions unless they hit too close to home, and it's not like he sits around the apartment trying to bore laser holes into his brother's back with his eyes. At least not when anyone's looking. He just avoids being overly friendly. Which apparently is out of character and impolite and why can't he just stop acting like a freakazoid, man?
At least that's what Katie keeps asking him. James has caught Kendall, Carlos, and Logan nodding their agreement with that more than once. He's even seen a tiny smile flit across Shane's face.
And now Mrs. Knight.
"Isn't a man allowed an off week?" James asks the empty apartment. Predictably, the only answer he gets is from the man selling OxiClean on the TV, and unless the answer to his question is that off weeks whiten whites and are safe for colors, the salesdude doesn't seem to agree.
Whatever. James tries not to listen to Katie anyway. Boys make her go all gooey-eyed and soft. She keeps following Shane around, watching him like he's chocolate cake.
The moon is high in the sky Thursday night when James feels the weight of someone standing over him, shadow pressing into his chest. He knows it's Shane without opening his eyes. No one else in the apartment has such a light step except Katie, and Katie has no reason to loom creepily over him in the middle of the night. Not since he repaid the last loan he took out from her.
"I know you're awake," Shane says. James doesn't answer. "James."
James squeezes his eyes more tightly shut, trying to regulate his breathing.
"James," Shane repeats, sighing. He strokes a hand over James's hair. "I wish you'd just talk to me, you know?"
James wishes he knew how.
On Friday, James proves Mrs. Knight knows fuck all about anything.
His day starts off pretty decent.
Okay, actually it starts out with Logan. Who is like, constructing a full scale model of the solar system, and wow, James is so glad he's not smart and has better things to do with his time.
"What do you think?" Logan asks.
"Um. It's got a lot of Styrofoam."
"What do you think of Venus?" Logan holds up one of the balls closest to the middle.
"You bedazzled a planet? Wait, is that my bedazzler?" James demands.
"It's not like I own one." Logan smirks. "Found it in your underwear drawer."
James frowns at him, because that's a little bit gay. Logan ignores him in favor of fondling Venus. He explains, "I needed a place to hide my stash. Mrs. Knight's doing room checks today."
"Dude, you need to stop smoking that shit. Guitar Dude is the worst influence- wait, you stuck a dime bag in my underwear drawer?"
Logan shrugs. "Mrs. Knight stopped looking in there after she found that black satin man thong of yours. Why do you have a bedazzler?"
"Carlos gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday."
So that ends up being his morning. Logan eventually gives up on his science project and wanders off poolside. James spends the next hour with his face hidden in an issue of Pop Tiger magazine, attempting to figure out who in their right minds thought Jett Stetson should have his own advice column.
The next time he looks up, Kendall's standing in the kitchen, searching through his wallet.
"Are you going somewhere?" James asks, surprised. He doesn't remember anyone mentioning anything about plans.
"We're going to the movies."
We're. It's a we that obviously doesn't involve James.
"What movie?" James asks, a hard edge to his voice.
"Some weird thing that Shane wants to see. I think it's a Woody Allen flick." Kendall wrinkles his nose.
"It's not weird," Shane's voice echoes down the hallway. He pops his head into the apartment, "Have you seen Logan? He's supposed to hit up the hotdog stand with us before we head out."
"I think he's with Guitar Dude," James pinches his thumb and forefinger together and presses them to his lips, inhaling. Shane laughs.
"Logan?" Kendall and James roll their eyes. "Wait, you're serious?"
"California changes a man," Kendall says. "James, you want chili cheese fries?"
Yes. James would love chili cheese fries. He would love to lick chili cheese off Kendall's fingers.
"No," James says, avoiding Shane's eyes.
"I'm. Um. I'm going to go find- Logan," Shane stutters, ducking out of the apartment again. Kendall frowns at James.
"Can I come to the movie?"
"You hate Woody Allen. You made obnoxious noises when Logan dragged us to see Match Point."
"It was really bad."
"I kno-" Kendall catches himself, "I mean, no, you can't come. You're going to hate it."
"You just want to spend more time with Shane."
"Maybe I do," Kendall says. "So?"
"He's my brother."
"Well you don't seem to want to do anything with him. Have you even spent more than a minute alone in the same room with the guy?"
James feels awful, but he also feels mad. "How is that any of your business?"
Kendall takes a step forward, and now he's up in James's face, green-gray eyes flashing with anger. "Are you trying to get Shane to leave early? Because that's what it looks like."
James is a little bit shocked by the allegation, because no. He wants Shane to leave early, but that's not why he hasn't spent any time with him. He just can't take being in the same room with Shane and Kendall together, knowing that they want to be- well, together.
James doesn't know if he can take Kendall looking at him like that. Not this week, of all weeks. "No."
"I don't know if I believe you," Kendall says. He stuffs his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and makes for the door.
"Kendall, wait."
"You know what? No. You've been acting like a complete ass. I don't like bullies, James," Kendall mumbles. He turns to the fridge, about to grab- something.
"Kendall-" James tries to grab his arm, but Kendall yanks it away.
"Sort out your shit."
James squeezes his eyes shut. He knew this would happen. He knew that Kendall would figure out that Shane is infinitely better.
James doesn't get the chance to make apologies that day. Mostly because he hides in his room and marathons the Vampire Diaries until Carlos bounces up onto his bed and starts asking him to explain every plot point ever.
The next morning, though, James is in the midst of making party guacamole when he turns around and catches Kendall with his head ducked into the fridge, hand poised over a water bottle. The kid is quiet as any ninja. Except Kendall is stock still, staring at something. He asks, "Wait, what's up with the cake? I thought you'd have like, sardine flavored ice cream for the party or something." He pales. "Please tell me this is not sardine flavored ice cream cake."
"It's birthday cake flavored birthday cake," James says shortly.
"Whose birthday is…" Kendall trails off. His body goes absolutely rigid. He breathes, "That's why you wanted to have a party."
James focuses pretty intently on his hands, going through all the motions of making his super orgasmic guacamole. He doesn't want to see Kendall's eyes right now. "You forgot. It's okay. Everyone forgot this year."
"Do you blame them? You're usually running around telling everyone you're going to be king of everything for an entire month."
James wants to say he can't be king of anything if Shane's here. He doesn't.
"It's okay. We've been busy with tour and the new album and- stuff. We've been busy with stuff." His voice totally doesn't break or anything when he says that. James crushes avocado and tries not to think about other green things, like Kendall's eyes.
"James, hey. Look at me." Kendall sticks his finger in the cake, licking frosting off of his finger in one swift move. James is enthralled by the swipe of his tongue. He remembers the way Kendall tasted on his lips. "I didn't forget."
"What?"
"You don't give me nearly enough credit, dude." Kendall stands, pulling open the door to the oven and pulls out what James supposes is a present.
It looks like it was wrapped by a creature with no opposable thumbs.
"You hid my present in the oven?"
"No one ever looks in there." Kendall shrugs. "Mom's more likely to call Pizza Hut than actually cook something."
James makes a grab for the present, but Kendall snatches it away, easy. He moves too fast for his own good. Stupid hockey captain. "Ah ah ah, it's not your birthday yet. Sunday," he promises.
"If you didn't forget my birthday, why were you so shocked by the cake?"
Kendall blinks. "Sometimes I forget you and Shane are twins. His birthday might have, um. Slipped my mind."
James doesn't know what to say to that. "We're identical."
"Not to me." Kendall shrugs.
If only that were true.
"James? I think it's nice that you're throwing Shane a birthday party." He pauses. "It'd be nicer if you just spent some time with him." Kendall grabs his flannel off of the arm of the chair. "I'll be back in time for the party."
He doesn't sound happy about it.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to go shopping. God, I hate the mall."
"Does your shirt have Pluto on it? You need to take that off right now."
Shane frowns down at his t-shirt. "Pluto's awesome."
"It's a hunk of ice in the middle of space. It's incapable of being awesome." Probably. James is a little fuzzy on the details about planets. He knows that there are nine of them. Or is it eight now? Whatever. He's almost positive that Pluto's cold, and that's why people don't live there. Like Alaska.
"Are you turning traitor on me?" Shane sounds offended. "Are you joining team Venus?"
"I'm not joining team anything because I'm not a geek. Now please put on some real clothes. You're embarrassing me." James spends ten minutes waiting for Shane to change, and when he comes back it's actually even worse than what he started with. "You can't wear that."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"It's a sweater vest. What, did you raid Logan's closet?"
Shane actually blushes.
"You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know. Wear that. We're late."
"This party was really unnecessary," Shane says, hands on his hips.
"Could you please just try to enjoy this? It's your birthday."
"It's our birthday," Shane corrects.
"Nope, not mine until tomorrow," James says. He gets this. He gets one day all to himself.
The night's perfect. The sky is as clear as it ever is in Hollywood, kind of purple-blue beneath a layer of grayish smog, and James actually even spots a star. It's probably enough to make Shane's little dorky heart throb.
The breeze is soft and the air smells sweet. It's the best kind of weather James could have asked for.
He walks side by side with Shane out the Palmwoods Park, grass rustling beneath his boots. When they arrive, the moon's yellowed and huge in the sky, the last traces of an Indian summer poised to turn into a breezy California autumn. The hotel is completely ablaze in the distance. It's warm, welcoming; everything it should be. It's like the whole building proclaims come here, make your Hollywood dreams come true.
"Well. Um. The streamers are nice. And the, uh, lights." Shane stares up at the fairy lights that James enlisted half the Palmwoods into stringing up. He did a good portion of them himself, while Shane was off at the movies or the beach or wherever with Kendall.
"Nice? That's all you have to say?" The party is fantastic. It's exactly what James wanted. Tyler totally hooked them up. The entire park is decked out in massive white screens, playing music videos from all the artsy bands Shane likes to listen to; the ones that never make it to the Grammys.
Shane doesn't look impressed.
"What are they serving on those trays?"
"I'm not sure."
"I'm asking because you do have a weakness for raw fish," Shane says, wrinkling his nose. He's never liked sushi. He is completely classless.
"It's not raw fish. Probably," James adds, just to mess with him.
"This was really unnecessary, you know."
"Please. I wanted to show you a good time."
And show off how well he gets along with Kendall. James isn't sure if that part of the plan is going to work out.
"Really? Because this is the first I've heard of it." Shane retorts wryly.
"Excuse me for trying to throw you a birthday party."
"I would have rather just had something- quiet."
"Well. Fine. Go quietly explore," James pushes his brother towards the center of the crowd. He heads straight for the food. There are long tables laden down with all of Shane's favorites, and despite what James said, there actually isn't any raw fish. He triple checked.
"Great party," Logan cheers, slinging an arm around his neck. "How did you pull this off without Bitters shutting it down?"
"Kelly." James shrugs. "She's my secret weapon. Does your shirt have Venus on it?"
"Yep."
"Could you change into something else?" James hisses.
"Nope." Logan grins like the undercover asshole he is. "I'm going to go find Shane."
"Be nice, it's his birthday!" James calls after him.
The back of Logan's shirt says something about the best planet ever. How does he even associate with these dorks?
"Oh, nice like you've been to him?" Logan shoots back.
Jerk. James is nice. James threw Shane this party. It's got Greek food. James doesn't even know what feta is. It sounds like feet.
He spends a while playing host. He's good at it. James is better at charming strangers than he's ever been at making his own brother smile.
The party's just about hitting its stride when James sees that there's this guy from the Palmwoods School heckling Shane and Logan about something. He's one of Oz's friends; big and beefy and pretty much only capable of being typecast in psychopath roles. Unlike Oz, nerdy friendliness doesn't seem to be doing anything to get through to his inner gooey chocolate center. Logan is very obviously trying to reason with him. Shane keeps clenching his fists like he wants to punch the dude in the face. James mirrors the action, fingernails cutting into his palm.
Shane won't actually do anything, because he's got the demeanor of a sweet tempered Pekinese, but James might.
He could. He thinks about going completely postal on the guy, but before he can decide on any kind of action, the kid walks away with Logan's plate of pita.
Logan doesn't look overly concerned by the disappearance of all of his Greek bread. If anything, it appears that he's egging Shane on about Venus. Guitar Dude starts to walk in their general direction, but James calls out, "Wouldn't do that."
Guitar Dude glances up and down and all around, like he's hearing disembodied voices.
"Dude," James says, trying to catch his attention. Guitar Dude spins around. Finally.
"James. Bro. You're not Logan."
"I try not to be. Logan's over there." James points.
"My dealer just hooked me up with some crazy shit, man. Crazy," Guitar Dude says. "Do you think Logan wants-"
"I think Logan's busy right now," James says, "Unless you know a lot about Venus."
"De Milo?"
"Is that an actress?"
"Venus is like, the hottest planet ever," Guitar Dude says. "Logan told me."
"Of course he did. But look. Logan's arguing with-"
"Is that you? James, there's two of you."
"No, that's my brother."
"Like, your evil twin, right? Yeah, man, catching your drift."
"What's my drift again?"
"Exactly. Righteous, man. Righteous," Guitar Dude says. And then he wanders off.
James isn't really sure what just happened, but he does know that Shane looks happier bickering with Logan than he has for most of the week. James likes Guitar Dude, but if it came down between him and his brother, he's going to choose Shane every time. He's got some family loyalty.
Besides, Logan's been toking up way too much lately. James has serious concerns about the future of all of his homework assignments.
James turns towards the food tables. Time to find out what feta is.
Or not.
"Good job breaking up that argument with the friendly giant. Oh wait, you didn't," Kendall says coolly.
It takes James a second to figure out what he's talking about. He's still reeling from trying to translate stoner speak. "I didn't see you swooping in to save the day, Spider-man."
"Would've, if Shane and Logan were about to get shaken down for their cash instead of, you know, bread."
"Logan can take care of himself." Kind of.
"Shane can't."
"Yeah, well." James takes a sip of the soda he's been nursing for most of the night. "Good thing nothing happened."
His voice is colder than he means it to be. A lot colder.
"Oh, hell, James. What is going on with you?"
"Nothing." James crushes the aluminum in his hand, feeling it crinkle like paper against his palm. He tosses it into the nearest trash can and starts marching towards the pool. He tries to ignore the unhurried footfalls behind him.
James plops down on the concrete, crossing his legs. He stares at the pool light and tries to think up a way to appease Kendall.
He's not coming up with much.
"Alright. What's wrong?" Kendall dangles his feet in the water, legs spot lit gold. James shrugs, leaning back on his palms. "James, come on. You're my best friend. You've been insane all week. Tell me what's going on."
James wants to tell him. More than anything. He's bad at holding things in, and this secret he's kept to himself for years now. But he doesn't want Kendall to hate him. He doesn't want to ruin the memory of that kiss, of his very first kiss.
"Is it Shane?" Kendall asks shrewdly. "I know he gets to you."
"Do you?" James asks, and it's a little sardonic, because he's pretty sure Kendall has no idea how Shane affects him.
"Why are you being such an asshole, man? Shane's going to leave if you keep acting like this."
"Oh, and that would be a shame," James drawls, a bit miffed that the name calling has escalated to include cusswords.
Kendall's face is backlit by the pool lights, shadows and gold moving over his face in a reflection of underwater currents. His frown grows deeper, the shadows overtaking everything, and he says, "Come again?"
"You heard me."
"You don't want Shane to stay?"
"I-"
"He's your brother, James. He loves you."
"I hate him," James bites out, even though it's a lie. He's never been able to fully hate Shane, no matter how much he wants to. It would be like hating himself, and James is too much of a narcissist for that.
"You don't mean that," Kendall replies levelly. James closes his mouth and settles for glaring. He's got a fierce glare. Kendall is not adequately impressed. "Why would you even say something like that?"
Kendall actually looks disappointed in him.
"Because-" James's voice catches in his throat. "Because I hate how much you care about him and his stupid feelings, alright?"
"James."
"I know, it's none of my fucking business, but-"
"James." Kendall catches James's face between his hands, thumbs stroking rough and dry over his cheekbones. "Look at me. I care about you, too."
"But Shane-"
"Shane is my friend, and his feelings are important, but James. I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for you, dude. How do you think you're going to feel if you drive your brother out of California? You're going to ruin your relationship with him. Don't even try to pretend that won't kill you."
James tries to glance away, to the pool or a stray palm tree or anything that will distract him from Kendall's luminescent eyes. It's not fair that he can be so earnest and attractive all at the same time.
"Just-" James shakes his head, trying to tear free of Kendall's grip. "Go back to the park. Go be with Shane."
"Fuck Shane," Kendall says, dropping his hands, but still pinning James down with a piercing look. "Tell me what's really wrong."
"I already told you-"
"You didn't."
"I did. I fucking told you."
"When? What did you tell me?" Kendall asks, anger evident in his stance and his expression and the sharp edges of his words.
"Stop." James says, voice soft, and he means a lot of things. Stop yelling at me. Stop looking at me like that. Stop feeling the way you do. "Just stop."
"Stop what, James-"
"Stop being in love with him, okay?" The words rip from his throat. He doesn't sound mad. He sounds exhausted. He doesn't even sound like himself.
Kendall's eyes go wide, realization a flash of lighting across his face, and there. James has screwed everything up, just like he always knew he would. He's not perfect. He's not Shane.
Kendall breathes, "You idiot."
And then he's crushing his mouth against James's, kissing him hard and fast and desperate. Except James kind of isn't expecting it, so he topples back into the pool, Kendall still attached to his lips. The world turns to bubbles and a single spot of warmth. Kendall. James sinks down to the bottom of the pool, all the air pushed form his lungs and into Kendall's, who is still kissing him, hands hot around his biceps. James's fingers go up to fist in the front of Kendall's button down, and he can't breathe, can't see; blackness is creeping in on the edges of his vision. But he pulls Kendall closer and kisses him back, until drowning becomes a very real possibility.
Kendall is the one who puts space between them, hauling James up to the surface of the pool, where a spider web of moonlight dances across the surface of the water. And then he's kissing James again, harder now, tongue curling soft into his mouth, right there in the Caribbean blue of chlorinated water and James is more than a little dazed.
"I-" James breaks from the kiss, trying to remember to breathe. "I have to tell you something."
So he does. And when he's done, it's not a great, big, terrible thing.
"James," Kendall laughs, loud and delighted. It reverberates across the concrete, echoing poolside. His reaction stings a little, until Kendall continues, "How could you even for a second think that I didn't know it was you?"
"What?" Kendall's gaze goes all fond and he strokes a hand across James's cheek. "I thought- oh god," Kendall's laughing harder now. "I thought you just wanted to be friends. But you just thought you tricked me into believing you were Shane?"
"It's not that funny," James says petulantly.
Kendall seems to disagree. He's gasping for breath and he grins at James and says, "James, you should know how I feel about you."
"Should I? Because you never say anything. How am I supposed to know if you don't say anything? I'm not- intuitive, or whatever." He bites his lip. "How do you feel about me?"
Kendall sighs, all soft and smirking. "We've wasted so much time. We need to fix that."
He kisses James again, like somehow they can make up for all the years in between that first kiss and now.
James figures they can try.
The large kid is back, bugging Shane and Logan. He's calling Shane names now. Really loudly. James looks at Kendall.
"Go."
It's not an order, but it doesn't have to be. The kid's got his hand resting on Shane's shoulder, and Shane looks like he wants to rearrange his teeth. He's so scrawny; like a shade of James.
"Dude, get your hands off of my brother," James shoves the kid.
"What's your problem, Diamond?"
James looks the kid up and down. The best retort he's got involves your face, but he feels like he needs a diplomatic solution here.
So instead of saying it, he punches him in the face.
The kid stumbles back, knocking over a punch bowl and taking out a full string of lights. He looks pissed. James is suddenly seeing a lot of running in his future. Except then he feels Kendall come to stand behind him, all cracking fists and silent fury. Logan's at his side in seconds, and then Carlos pops out of wherever it is that Carlos has been hiding.
Four on one are pretty good odds.
The bully runs.
Kendall slings his arm around James's shoulders, nuzzling into his neck. "Good boy."
"Oh, thank god," Shane groans, relief flooding his features. James blinks. "It's about time."
Kendall grins at both of them and announces, "I think you two need to talk. I'll uh- go- um. Logan? Carlos? Let's go."
"Why'd you hit that guy?" Shane exhales, his thin shoulders slumping forward with relief.
"I don't like bullies," either, he's thinking, an echo of Kendall's earlier words. "And- dude, you're my brother." James rubs his knuckles. "I'm sorry I was a douchebag."
Shane rolls his eyes. "You can't apologize for being you."
"Hey!"
"I get it though. Kendall," Shane says by way of explanation. "Why are you wet?"
James is not blushing. "Um. No reason. You…knew about Kendall? How?"
"You think I didn't see how you felt about him? I'm not blind, James. From the second you dragged me to watch your stupid hockey games, I knew."
"Hockey is not-"
"It's stupid. One day you're going to break your face and I'm going to win this argument." Shane shakes his head. "Hey, do you ever feel like Logan took up hockey just to spite me?"
"No." James rolls his eyes. The competition between the two of them is getting old. "You've got a lot of things to say about Logan."
"You've got a lot of things to say about Kendall," Shane replies fondly. "You think you're so mysterious, but I know you better than you know yourself."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Shane gives him a look. "I'm your big brother. It's my job."
"You're like, a minute older than me." Shane grins, and it's not a perfect mirror of James's, but it's familiar. James remembers that he used to look up to that smile, to his not-quite-big brother. It's this shadowy memory in the back of his mind. He hasn't thought about that for a long, long time. "Hey. Um. Do you like Seattle?"
"I do," Shane says.
"Doesn't it rain a lot?"
"You know me. I was never cut out for the sunshine. Monsoons do wonders for my complexion."
"It continues to astound me that we're related."
"We're not that different." Shane bumps their shoulders together. "I'm not here to ruin your life, James. I'm here because you're my brother, and I love you."
"I know that. I may be a sucktastic brother, but this isn't my party. It's for you."
Mostly.
Shane smiles, all wide open and happy. James wears that same exact grin, and maybe they really aren't that different after all. "I know. James?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm down for another week. Maybe we could, you know, spend it together?" Shane looks hopeful. "I came to see you. Not Kendall, dude. You."
"Deal. Some birthday."
"I don't even think it's mine anymore. It's midnight."
James glances up at the moon, like he can figure out what kind of scientific voodoo Shane used to reach that conclusion.
A sound distracts him.
Shane can't sing.
Okay, that's a lie. He can, kind of, in an unpolished, raw sort of way. Unlike James, he's never had any interest at all in strengthening his voice, and as they've grown, the differences have started to show. When Shane launches into Happy Birthday, he's scratchy and a bit off key.
Weirdly enough, James doesn't mind too much.
A/N: Please review!