A/N: Typed straight into an LJ doc at 7 am so forgive typos/mistakes please. Inspired by some other drabble I was working on and this just stuck in my head. Credit for the whole "That's called being gay" thing to Seth MacFarlane and "Family Guy". I just thought it was funny as fuck and any time you can make a Stewie Griffin reference, you take it. So here ya go! Enjoy :)


"Girls are fuckin' stupid."

It was a sentiment shared by countless heartbroken guys-and even some girls-one that made James laugh as it was spoken from the lips of his best friend Kendall. Kendall, who'd been dumped pretty harshly at work earlier than day by some girl who decided she didn't wanna date a hockey player after all. Which was just-well, stupid, James agreed. Who wouldn't want a hockey player?! And the captain at that. In Minnesota, hockey was something close to a religion and in high school, Kendall was a god. So to dump him on his ass for a reason as fucked up as that, it was pretty fucking stupid.

Kendall had been hurt pretty bad, had been pretty into that girl and had hoped-well, not for marriage obviously. Who wants to settle down in high school? Not James, that's for sure. But Kendall was a serial monogamist, a relationship-type guy, preferring one girlfriend over several dates. It was just who he was. He'd been pretty torn up over losing the girl he really liked, over suddenly being single when he'd had what he felt was a really good relationship going on. So James did as any best friend would: invited the blond over to spend the night and helped him get drunk from his dad's stash of liquor. He was just glad his pop was cool to let the guys sleep over with only a "Mom wouldn't let us" as an excuse, not questioning it any further.

So that's where they were, laying on James' bed, a shared bottle of Jack behind them, both in their flannel PJ pants and "New Town High Hockey" tees, staring up at the ceiling. It had been silent, nothing but the sounds of the passed bottle and long gulps taken from it. Until Kendall's declaration and James' laugh that is.

"What?" the blond question, seeming offended that his friend would chuckle at what he said. "I'm serious, dude. They're so fucking high maintenance and fuckin' take forever getting ready."

The brunet stopped laughing, pout on his face now. He knew he took forever to get ready himself, but hey, it took a lotta work to look that amazing. But he had to agree, it was annoying when you showed up ready to take the girl out and she's still up in the bathroom "putting on her face". Did that make him a hypocrite? Did he even care?

A long swig from the bottle said "no".

"And the drama, oh my fucking god the fucking drama!" Kendall continued, changing his voice to a higher pitched one to mimick a girl. "Why didn't you call? Who are you with? Why didn't you return my text in five seconds like I do? What's going on? Where are you? Why didn't you bring me flowers? It's our one week anniversary." He let out a harsh sigh that turned to a groan, muffling the sound with his hands. "So fuckin' annoying."

James nodded, letting out a small "mmm" in agreement as he swallowed the whiskey in his mouth, putting the bottle between himself and his best friend. "See, that's why I'm not a relationship guy. Too much work," he explained. "All the drama and the bullshit and girls are just too fuckin' needy. Takes too much effort to just constantly keep them happy."

Kendall let out a snort and a "ch'yeah", grabbing the bottle to drink himself, James watching. Things had always been easy between the two of them. Okay, so they bickered every now and then, but what best buds didn't? They were just competitive, but no feelings ever got hurt. He made the mistake of taking one girl to the arcade on a date and she ended the night being upset at losing and pissed at him for not letting her win. Like that was his fault she sucked at skee-ball.

But with Kendall, he could just be himself, say whatever stupid thing came to mind, not have to worry about putting on some sorta act to try and impress anyone. Kendall would just accept him the way he was, same with his other best friends Logan and Carlos. He felt happier and more at ease with those guys than he'd ever feel with any chick, ever.

"Why can't we just, like, be with our guy friends the way we are with girls, ya know?" James questioned, watching Kendall swallowed and cap the bottle. "Like, do all that dating relationship shit, but with a dude?"

The blond cocked an eyebrow, giving him a "are you fuckin' serious?" look. "Dude," he started. "That's called being gay."

The brunet's brow furrowed, lips pursed as he let out an "oh", thinking "duh!" He might've been more buzzed than he thought.

Kendall laughed as James turned his head, hazel eyes trained on the ceiling. He didn't see what was so funny-other than how dumb he was for not realizing that's what being gay was. He thought it was a damn good plan. Kendall wouldn't bitch over dates at the arcade or pout because James wouldn't "let him win". Kendall wouldn't cause drama over missed phone calls or not immediately returned texts. Kendall wouldn't throw a hissy over forgotten minor anniversaries or a lack of flowers or other gifts. Dating Kendall would be as easy as breathing really.

James kept thinking about it, head turning back to his best friend, who was now staring at the ceiling. Kendall wasn't exactly ugly, not classically handsome or even beautiful, like James was, but he had his own sort of attractiveness to him. The blond's tongue darted out to wet his lips and the brunet wondered what it would feel like to feel against his own lips, his own tongue, how it would feel to kiss the other male. If Kendall was as passionate at making out as he was with hockey, James had a feeling it would be fucking mind blowing.

He recalled seeing his best friend making out with his now ex at some party they all went to, the two off in a dimly lit corner, Kendall's hands roaming her petite frame, her fingers threaded through his dirty blond hair. James imagined being that girl, imagined being in some dark corner, Kendall's body pressed against his as their tongues tangled and their lips moved together, hockey-roughened hands all over his own muscular frame. He imagined his best friend tasting of the alcohol he'd consumed, the toothpaste he'd brushed his teeth with before they headed to the party, and something that could only be described as Kendall.

He started imagining what that making out what lead to, the groping, the fooling around. He imagined calloused hands wrapped around his dick, that wicked tongue licking up his shaft. He imagined those green eyes he'd seen so often wearing that same determined look he got on the ice, that same fierceness painted on his face. He imagined returning the favor, of hearing his best friend moan, his lean body writhing on the bed, long fingers tangling in his brown locks. He imagined fingering him open, licking him, priming him for the taking. He imagined a fight, a battle over who would be on top, on what position he'd finally fuck the blond in, pounding into him from above only to have Kendall roll them over so he could ride James. He imagined his name being yelled in that rough voice of his, in that scream he had when excited, hot spurts of come being released and painting them both as he filled up his best friend. He imagined the aftermath, the post-sex cuddling, long legs tangled together under the expensive sheets his mom insisted on buying. He imagined the dimpled smile on his best friend's face as he held the smaller male close, kissing him softly, sweetly, those green eyes speaking volumes of love, that bright light in them that he got when he spoke of whatever girl he was dating. Only it was there for James.

"Dude!" Kendall's voice cut into his space-out, reminding him of where he was, of what was actually going on. He was laying on his bed, with his straight best friend, trying to help him get over the hurt caused by his recent break-up. With a girl. Because he was straight and into chicks. Like James was. Right?

The brunet smeared a hand over his face as he mentally shook himself out of it, quickly covering up whatever had been going on his head, wishing he could also hide the chubby that'd formed at the thought of fucking the other male. Putting his hand back on his torso, he looked at his best friend, acting like nothing was up. "What?"

"You zoned out on me, space cadet," Kendall stated, cocking an eyebrow. "You all right?"

James forced a small smile on his face, nodding. He was all right. He was fine. He was drunker than he thought, clearly the only explanation for his previous revery, but he was fine. "I'm cool," he replied. "Tired though." It was a lie, but he figured it would work, figured it would cover up his space out and maybe even make the other male wanna go to sleep so James could totally forget about it all and just drift into a blissful dreamless sleep.

Kendall nodded back, rubbing his own face, his own eyes. "Yeah, I'm getting pretty sleepy, too," he stated, seeming genuinely exhausted. But emotional drama would do that to a person, would take a lot outta ya and just make ya wanna sleep for a long ass time. At least James figured it would, he kinda had no clue. "Wanna just hit the hay?"

"Yeah." The brunet sat up, grabbing the bottle and screwing the cap on tight before putting it on the nightstand. Both males got off the bed, shoving the comforter back, Kendall pausing before he got in. "What?"

"Just," he started, rubbing the back of his neck, that down look of before back on his face. "Thanks. For tonight. For listening to me whine and tryna help me forget. 'Preciate it."

A smirk played on the brunet's lips as he looked at his buddy across the bed. "What else are best friends for?"

A reluctant smile was on the blond's face as he nodded, dropping his hand. "Yeah. But thanks."

James just shrugged, getting in bed, not really seeing the big deal. Kendall would've done the same, if James ever actually settled down and actually put his heart on the line for anyone. Logan wouldn't have but that's 'cause he had this weird thing against underage drinking and preferred rambling on about useless bullshit over what alcohol did to your body and how it was actually a depressant and blahblahblah. Carlos couldn't, 'cause he had a million siblings and a cop for a dad so getting drunk at his place was out. James just figured he was doing Kendall a solid, taking advantage of divorced parents and an unlocked liquor cabinet that they'd stolen from before and still hadn't been busted about.

He rolled onto his side, facing away from the middle of the bed, hearing Kendall get in behind him. Shuffling sounded out, his best friend getting comfy, settling the blanket over them, and he soon closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him away. Until an arm wrapped around him and a lean frame pressed against his back.

The brunet froze, swallowing hard, his half-hard dick twitched at the feel of a limp one on his ass. "Uh, Kendall?" he questioned, voice shakier than he liked. "What're you doing?"

"Well, you pointed out that we should be able to do whatever we did with chicks, but with our best dude friends, right?"

He swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah."

"And I kinda always wanted to cuddle a girl as I fell asleep so-" He trailed off, before slightly lifting his body up and away from the other male. "If this is too weird-"

"No!" Okay, he sounded a little too desperate there, but whatever. He'd do like Jamie Foxx says and blame it on the alcohol. "No, it's cool. Whatever helps your broken li'l cheesy heart." He smirked, tryna keep the whole thing light, like he was doing the blond a favor. He wasn't entirely sure if he succeeded.

Kendall remained still for a moment, before shrugging, leaning over James to switch off the lamp he'd forgotten about. The room in darkness, the blond settled behind the brunet once again, arm wrapped around his muscular frame, holding him close. "Night, James."

"Night, Kendall."

The smaller male's breathing soon even out, a light snoring leaving him as he slept. And as he felt himself drifting off, James thought about how there wasn't anything wrong with being gay or doing relationship type shit with your best friend.