Hello, readers! I know that I have been on semi-hiatus for a while now, but I am excited to say that I am back for the holidays, at least.
I have several new oneshots and first chapters written for future uploading as well as an extremely long oneshot dealing with rather serious and controversial subject matter; I will probably upload that to Livejournal as to avoid offending close friends here on Fanfiction. If you would like to read it, I can keep you on the list of people to send the link to when I do get it uploaded. Trigger warnings ensue.
Also, the name of this oneshot is based off of the song by Owl City. My best friend is moving at the end of this week, so she wrote the lyrics of this song down and drew cute little pictures around them for her boyfriend, and I found that really sweet and inspiring.
Anyway, please enjoy this short story.
For Kendall, James was more than a friend or a bandmate or a source of comfort. There was more to his admiration for the singer than humor, intense eyes, and smiles, and sometimes he forgot that himself.
There was more to it when an interview, shooting, or concert would end, and they would all walk out; two would immediately find a secluded place to embrace each other. A light of the passion and sadness of fame and themselves would invade their auras as they scouted a dark closet, and the door would swing open between the twenty feet that separated them; usually, James would find the closet and pick it open, and Kendall would follow shortly after, closing the door quietly behind him.
Two men would meet one another, and their eyes would shine brighter than the sun through the thick darkness of a then occupied room; teeth would press into dry bottom lips, and tongues would slither out to wet the bottom lips. Only one of the men would close his eyes, and a light breath would caress the tense silence of the otherwise empty, warm room; the other man would pull at the hem of his polo, not in awkwardness, but in ambivalence.
One way or another, both of the mens' eyes would meet again, and Kendall would step forward slowly so that he faced James' stubbly face. A moment would pass and the shorter would lace his arms around his friend's torso timidly; the other would close his shining hazel eyes and hold Kendall to his chest, and their breaths would settle together in the warm closet air.
They would embrace tenderly for what seemed like years because they were infinite to each other, yet so finite that they needed one another pressed fully into them in blind desperation. Kendall's shoulders would roll forward in a wave of emotion, and his tense yet relaxed fingers would inch out of place on James' back; the taller man would feel his friend's weakening and whisper a 'get up' into his ear, and Kendall would nod quietly and weakly hop up. The brunet would catch him under his lower thighs and pull him up slowly.
Sometimes, they would hold each other so tight that they were both breathing heavily after only a couple minutes, and James would reach blindly for a wall with a free hand and press Kendall's back to the cold wall gently. The blond boy would only make a small noise of acknowledgement and slowly pull away from resting his head into the crook of his friend's neck.
Man meets man, hazel meets emerald, forehead meets forehead; an unspoken battle. His hands would travel up his back to flex and spread out on his head of soft chestnut hair, and his thumb and index finger would work together to tug intimately at the strands. Their eyes would hold contact, and, suddenly, one of the men would press their lips together tenderly; the shorter man would immediately slip his tongue forward to consume James' first wet heat. Kendall would not quit the caressing of James' hair and would only pull harder on the locks. But it would not be about dominance or sensuality or appeal, it would about being close to each other, and James would pull his friend closer at just the thought of having to let go of him at some point in order to evade the dark safety of the closet and step back into the limelight of fame, society, and the outside world.
Thinking pessimistically about the length of the time they had together, Kendall would let a single tear fall down his cheek as their tongues danced together, and he would pull away and hop down from his bandmate's grasp before grabbing James' hair and spinning him to press him to the wall. Chests would heave together in sync, and Kendall would pull away to press their foreheads together; they would ponder over just each other for as long as they felt necessary in one another's embrace.
The mens' hands would travel and roam endlessly and press cold fingertips to each other's bodies; only what was already exposed was to be touched as fear of carrying out their own needs would lead to extremely passionate displays of their knotted up lust, and that would always get complicated for the two.
Sometimes, however, James would just let Kendall press him to the wall, the younger man kissing the taller's neck heatedly and pressing his subtle bulge to James' euphorically. Meanwhile, James would hold Kendall's hips still but let his hands wander; his wide hands would grip the blond's sides lightly as he rubbed his thumbs in repetitive circles, pulling up to drag his hands down Kendall's rib cage and slip back under the waistband of the shorter man's skinny jeans.
It was a never ending cycle, and they would both let it happen after nearly every single event for the band, and, even when Heffron Drive had a rare interview or show, James would show up undercover; no matter how covered he was, though, Kendall could always find the bright hazel eyes locked steadily on his own from the crowd. They would exchange unspoken words and would always meet in the same closet, their lips immediately meeting at the very sight of one another.
My eyes finally moved from watching Carlos twirl lazily in a back hallway of the radio station to inspect the time. I looked up once again to examine each consecutive door adorning the hallway in hopes of seeing a light or a shadow moving under the doors; we did not have time for this. Shaking my head, I lunged forward to grab Carlos' hand, intertwining our fingers only for the purpose of pulling him along, absolutely no other reason, maybe, and we surged down the hall, ears perked to capture the slightest utter of Kendall's usual words of denial.
"No, no, James, shh."
"Ugh, baby, it's okay."
"Fuck- Halston won't know."
"We can't do this anymore, James."
And James usual rasps of comforting words as he pressed unashamedly against Kendall:
"Yeah, Kendall, yeah. It's fine, 'Ahlia."
"Calm down, hun."
"Don't say her name, Kendall. Hell yes, it's just you and me."
"Agh, fuck, Kendall- No, no, Kendall- don't say that. Come here."
I furrowed my eyebrows as we approached a janitors' closet, my chocolate orbs meeting Carlos' blank eyes as I settled a hand on the door knob. Frowning, we hesitated to both listen and think; would we really want someone bursting in on us every single day just about to pry us off of one another? I sighed. Sometimes it's for the better of the your future.
With that, we opened the door to Kendall and James, Carlos' sad eyes capturing mine before we moved our orbs to examine the two embracing each other warmly. Kendall's heavy stress/relief breathing was the only thing to cut through the thick silence as the blond pressed James to the door hopelessly; their arms were wrapped around each other affectionately, a smile settled on the taller man's face, but a desperate frown holding Kendall's expression.
I coughed.
"I love you, James."
"I love you more, Kendall."
And with that, they both separated and walked out of the closet as if nothing had ever happened. Carlos and I exchanged humorous glances. Back to normal.
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-Pey-