Alrighty. This is only my second fanfic and I'm new to writing Kick Buttowski stories sooo, go easy on me will ya? So why am I righting this story? Cuz I can, and I felt like it. Since I'm a huge KickxKendall fan this story is a (you guessed it) MAJOR Kindall fanfic. No fluffiness in this story kiddies. Don't like? Don't read simple as that. Originally this was going to be a one-shot –two-shot. But then I decided, why not make this a full blown story?
WARNING: for language, and sexual content is implied. Its rated T for a reason.
DISCLAIMOR: blah blah blah. Kick Buttowski doesn't belong to me and never will. Blah blah blah. Sandro is so lucky. Blah blah I own zip. Blah.
Now with all that crap out of the way…get on with it already!
Kendall's POV
How did I get myself into this?
After returning home from studying abroad. I figured I needed a break from the books so I decided to attend this party down the street, and to get my mind off things. But what I didn't expect beyond my wildest dreams was to find Kick there.
I watch my drink fall from my hands in slow motion, the liquid in my mouth tastes like dust. What is Kick doing here? Where has he been the past eight months? He left town without a trace after our brief and crazy relationship. I didn't find out until a lot later that he left because he got a phone call about his possible big break. But why didn't he try to reach me, or at least give me a sign that he's alive? He stands in a dark corner, his back against the wall with his head hunged down. He looked a bit depressed. I notice that he appears to have gotten taller, last I saw him he was almost the same height as me. I notice he wasn't wearing his signature jumpsuit instead he was shirtless wearing only dark denim jeans and surprisingly he was without his helmet.
He still has those same lean muscles, his sleek spiky black hair covering his eyes and basically half his face. Up until high school Kick would always wear his jumpsuit and only his jumpsuit, and of course his helmet that he never seemed to take off. But at the start of freshmen year he would sometimes (on rare occasions) wear casual yet surprisingly stylish cloths. He would even come to class without his helmet, whether he's in his jumpsuit or not, revealing that he had spiky black hair similar to his brother brads-only better. He was almost unrecognizable.
However, that didn't mean he did stunts any less. THAT hasn't changed at all. But it was somewhat nice to see him in something else other than his jumpsuit. Don't get me wrong I've always thought kick looked devishly handsome in his jumpsuit, I actually preferred him in it because it reminds me of his younger-self. And—wait. Why am I thinking about this now? Realizing that I was gawking at him I quickly turn and straighten up. What is wrong with me? He abandon me! I should be hating his guts not drooling over him like those psychotic obsessed fangirls! Out of nowhere a flash of wacky Jacky pops in my mind. I shuddered. I turn back to kick, He's real, and live, and…walking right toward me!
He's got those same blue eyes that are gazing directly at me. I can't look away, even though I desperately want to. He lets out a slow breath and says, "This is kinda awkward, huh." his deep voice sounds familiar but different. It's got an edge to it that wasn't there the last time we saw each other.
"Yeah," I manage to squeak out. Umm…
"How've you been?"
I can't answer that question. It's too fake. If he cared how I've been, he would have figured out a way to see me or talk to me. He left me before Christmas, before New Year's, before Valentine's Day, before my birthday. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugs. But before he could answer a girl pops out of nowhere and basically throws herself at him. Clutching his arm and batting her eye lashes. "There you are." She says cheerfully. Then looks over to me. "Who are you? "She asks rather rudely.
Looking at them together is a slap in the face. The girl is really pretty. She's got big brown eyes, and perfectly brunette hair. I don't mean to gloat or come off as egotistical but it was painfully obvious that I surpassed her in beauty. But her waist is so small it's a wonder how all her internal organs can fit inside her body. Maybe they're all stuffed into her huge boobs.
I cross my arms. "His girlfriend." I answer with a stern, straight face.
The girl looks from me to Kick, then back to me. "You're kidding, right?" the girl asks as she clutches Kicks arm tighter, like he's her property. I resisted the urge to gag; now I finally understand how Kick felt when I used to date Ronaldo. Obviously she doesn't believe that a girl who looks like me could be dating a boy who looks like Kick.
My insides clench in disgust. Kick isn't my boyfriend and technically never was, but it still hurts to see him standing here with this girl. During all this I failed to notice that Kick paid the girl no attention, not taking his gaze off me, in fact it appears he hasn't even noticed the girls presence, treating her as if she was just mere oxygen.
I don't wait for him to tell the girl that the last person on earth he'd call his girlfriend would be me. Whether it hurts or not, I had to be strong. "No, I'm not kidding," I tell her, finding my voice again. "Come along now Kick."
He looks confused.
"I think I saw your shirt in one the rooms. "The girl says with a big grin. She probably expects him to blow me off, and she's probably right.
To my surprise, Kick slings an arm over my shoulder. He smells like alcohol. "I gotta go with her." I can detect a slight slur in his speech, confirming that he has not been completely sober.
"Whatever." The girl says, rolling her eyes. She turns to me. "You can have him." Then she storms off. As she was out of sight it was just Kick and I standing in the corner. I shrug off his arm. I noticed his zipper was undone.
"Are you coming?" I ask impatiently.
I'm kind of surprised that he follows me all the way back to my house. I pondered if I should've taken him home instead, but I don't quite think his parents would be pleased to see their teenage son drunk. I sigh as I unlock the door.
And here we are.
"I need help," Kick slurs as he drapes his arm across my shoulders again. I can feel the heat of his bare skin through my clothes. In the past I would have done anything for Kick to put his arm around me. But not now.
"You have beer breath," I tell him, pushing him off me. "And if you want help zipping up your fly, you've asked the wrong girl."
He stumbles into the living room behind me and collapses on the couch. He looks around, confused. "Wait, where's your parents?"
"At a movie."
"Why aren't you with 'em?"
"I needed time to myself." he pats the cushion next to him. "Take a load off and sit next to me." Kicks hair is sticking up in all different directions and that damn zipper is still open, making me assume that he may have fooled around with some of the girls at that party specifically one in particular. Problem is, he still looks good. My top lip curls, thinking about him and that girl. "No."
"Come on, just for a second."
His eyes are at half-mast and he's attempting to act all vulnerable and innocent, but I know better. "You should probably get home now, before someone else catches you drunk or on drugs or whatever you ingested tonight," I tell him.
"Sit with me for a minute, then I'll disappear to my house and you won't have to see me for the rest of the night. I promise." he fumbles with his fly and finally zips and buttons his pants, then leans his head against the back of the couch. "And just so you know, I didn't do drugs. Could've, but didn't. Don't want to screw anything up anything now that I finally got my big break." he mumbles.
I stand right in front of him, determined to be the rational one. "You were drinking tonight. Don't deny it." his lips curve into a small smile. "Yeah, I drank. Feels good to not have to think about…everything."
I hesitate. Being close to kick isn't a good idea. "I should report this to your parents."
"Yeah, you should."
I sighed. "But I won't."
"Why not, kends? Could it be that deep down in that frozen heart of yours you still like me?" he reaches out and pulls me toward him. Not being very steady in the first place, I stumble forward, but he cradles my body with his arm and gently lowers me to the couch until I'm lying down. Under him.
"Don't answer that question," he says.
My brain tells me to scramble away and keep my distance, but my body isn't listening to my brain. My body has a mind of its own. I look up into Kicks intense, sea blue eyes. Those depths are totally focused on my lips. I swear the air grows thicker around us, closing in like a dark cloud. All I hear is the sound of our breathing. I forget everything else and let myself enjoy being this close to him again.
He brushes my now long side bangs away from my face with unexpected gentleness, the pads of his fingers a soft caress brushing across my cheek. I bunch my hands at my sides, afraid that if I actually move I'll slip back into reality.
Kick shifts and moves closer. "Kendall, do you want this as much as I do?" he asks, his face poised right above mine. "I…I can't answer that."
He leans back just the slightest bit, but he's still close enough I can smell the alcohol he drank tonight. "Why not?"
I move my hand to his bare chest to stop him before I lose all common sense. Having him this close makes me breath harder and my pulse race, which just makes me even angrier with myself than with him. "Do you really have to ask? You were obviously with other girls tonight, kick. I'm not degrading myself by being sloppy seconds."
He jerks his head back, confusion written on it. "uuuh, I may have done some things at that party. But that wasn't one of them. "When I give him an I-don't-believe-you look, his expression turns gravely serious. "I'm not gonna say some of them didn't try to come on to me, but I couldn't go through with it 'cause I was…'" he squeezes his eyes shut. After a second he opens his eyes and stares right into mine with that serious look again. "Forget it."
"Just go home, Kick, "I tell him, trying to push him off me. "It's obvious you're drunk and aren't thinking straight."
"Kiss me, then I'll go."
"You're crazy," I choke.
"Yeah, I know." his lips are twisted into a half smile. "But humor me just this once. "His head slowly dips toward mine. I watch and hold my breath as his beautiful, lips get closer and closer. "Kendall," he murmurs softly when I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck. "I need this."
I must not be thinking clearly, because I say against his lips, "me too."
His hands are braced on either side of my head as he brushes his lips over mine. We kiss tentatively; as if were both not sure it's okay. My heart is slowly melting. My entire body tingles with excitement and anticipation as one of his hands grabs my waist and pulls me closer.
I close my eyes, it felt so good; it couldn't have been wrong. Back then he held me and made me believe that as long as were together, everything else would fall into place. I sigh into Kicks open mouth; it comes out as a little whimper. He leans away from me. I open my eyes and find him smiling—a one-hundred-percent-satisfied male smile. As if my response is his cue to take this further, Kick gives a guttural growl right before he lowers his head again. His mouth is on mine, open, his tongue searching. I think my brain is trying to send off warning signals, but my body and my tongue are enjoying the attention too much to listen. The sounds of our tongues and lips and moans spur me on, and I find myself raking my hands through his hair, pulling him closer.
"Touch me," Kick urges as he reaches out and traces my lower lip with the soft tip of his thumb.
I convince myself to think of the time we spent before he left. As long as I keep my eyes closed, were there—were in the past and not the present. He's going to tell me how much he cares about me any minute now. He's going to tell me that I'm the only girl he wants and needs.
He traces a wet path down my neck and dips his finger into the V of my V-neck. His mouth follows with little kisses before he moves up and kisses me again. I start to sweat with passion. I'm on fire.
It's all slow and erotic, our tongues reaching out and gliding and searching as if were both savoring the taste of each other. The bitter taste of alcohol has been replaced by this sweet scent that reminds me solely of Kick. I'm lost in the present, but my mind and body are stuck in the past. It feels good and oh, so right to be finally kissing him like this. And touching him.
He said he needed this.
I wasn't lying when I admitted I needed it, too. When he reaches under my top and rubs his thumb across the top of my bra, the rest of his hand cradling my breast, I feel like the world has stopped and it's just the two of us left. I feel a warm sensation running from my chest to the tips of my toes and back again. My insides are slowly melting into little puddles.
Until my cell phone rings. It's in my bag, ringing loudly and interrupting my fantasy.
"Don't answer it." Kick rasps. "Ignore it."
He kisses me again, but the passion is gone. The moment lost.
My cell phone keeps ringing. I turn my head, breaking the kiss, and blink a sudden tear of frustration away as I send my arm flailing for my bag.
"I can't." my hand finds the side pocket and I grab my cell. The number glowing on the Caller ID makes me suck in a breath. "It's my dad, "I say slowly as I nudge Kicks hand away from under my shirt. I let the phone ring and ring until the call gets transferred to voicemail.
I look up at Kick, still poised above me. The boy who left and didn't look back. I'm still under the impression that he fooled around with other girls tonight, and then moved on to me like it didn't matter. Different face, different body, same interchangeable good time.
I'm pathetic and the only one I can blame is me. I could have said no. I could have acted like I didn't want this. I could have walked away and not look back just like how he did.
But I didn't.
Instead, I stepped closer to him…almost testing him to see if he'd make a move. Sure enough, he took the bait. I'm no better than any of those girls he was with tonight.
"Kick what are we doing?" I ask.
He leans away from me to sit up again and sighs. "Oh no, here it comes. You're introspective, emotional, and philosophical self is coming out."
"Why shouldn't I be introspective? We don't make sense."
"Neither does chocolate and peanut butter, but somehow it works," he says. "Somehow the mixture of those two things is genius."
"You're drunk. I'm not talking about food. I'm talking about two people with a really complicated past—"
"Stop thinking so much," he says, finishing my sentence. "No matter how much time has pass, it doesn't seem to matter." He rubs my arm gently, tickling my sensitive skin. "I don't know why were both fighting it so much. Heck, I couldn't do it with any of the girls tonight because all I could think about was you. I even called one of them your name," he says, rambling. "Yeah, it's messed-up, we're messed-up, but why hide the fact that we still want each other?"
I push him away. "You, Kick Buttowski, are one big jerk."
"I don't get you," he says, his hands in the air and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I admitted I couldn't be with another girl because I was thinking of you. I want you, Kendall. Is that so wrong?"
"Yes."
"What, admitting you turn me on? Why are you treating it as if it's an insult?"
"I don't want us to just 'want' each other." I take a deep breath. "I want a real relationship with a guy. Love. And you, you don't even know anything about love. Love is honesty, where I can rely on someone to always be there for me. Love is a mutual respect for one another, something you and I don't have."
"Oh, really?" my words obviously make him pissed, because he stands up and fires back, "So you're saying you have no respect for me?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."
"Fine," he says.
"Fine," I say.
"I guess I pegged this thing going on between us all wrong, then."
A sharp pain strikes my heart, but I stay strong. "It's all about honesty, Kick."
"Yeah, well, honestly you're being ridiculous."
One chapter down who knows how many more to go. I got the whole plotline down already just gotta work out a few kinks, then theres typing it all down, but appearntly time is not on my side. The next chapter will be up….well, when its up. I could make this go faster depends on how many more reviews I get. Amazing how the power of reviews can get your lazy ass up and working on the rest of the story. Anyhoo, until next time.