Kendall had always been able to take care of himself. The unofficial leader of his pack of four friends it was often left to him to set them straight, get them on the right path and provide a firm hand when they got a little loco. The guys loved him for it and because of it came to trust him in life's matters despite his being a year younger.

It was why they hadn't worried when he'd said he was going out on a Wednesday night to let off some steam. Always up for a party, his roommate James had offered to come with but the green-eyed blond hadn't really wanted his friend's company that night. It was nothing personal against James but he tended to be a flirty drunk and Kendall had no desire to fend off date rapists the entire night. James was already pretty enough (extremely so) but when you added alcohol to that every man tried to take advantage.

Carlos was even worse, not necessarily a dude magnet (though the cute Latino did turn heads) but just plain wild. Kendall was likely to spend the entire night trying to keep him from dive bombing from the roof in a drunken parody of "Jackass." Perfect way to kill a buzz. Then there was Logan. Though by day he was arguably the most straight-and-narrow (uptight, totally inhibited) of the group with his concentration on academics and such, the guy just couldn't handle his liquor. Or any kind of alcohol really. He was a total light-weight and liable to do anything after a few drinks.

Kendall needed a break. Just once he wanted to go out, cut loose and not have to look after anyone but himself. So that's what he did.

"What am I supposed to do all night?" James had whined.

Did Kendall have to think of everything?

"Sleep over with Carlos and Logan. Oh and don't wait up."

He'd decided on a club of higher caliber that ranged for a little older crowd. Guys his age tended to be jackasses so a mid-twenties average seemed decent. He easily slipped in with his good looks and celebrity status. It was L.A. after all.

Once inside Kendall was easily able to score some drinks from admirers. He could see why James liked it so much. It wasn't long before he was on the dancefloor enjoying his buzz, bouncing to the beat and carelessly switching dance partners like cheap chewing gum. He loved it!

After a few more drinks he posted at the bar to give himself a rest. He'd have just one more before ordering an uber home.

"You got some moves there fella."

Kendall smiled at the well groomed gentleman before him with delicious brown eyes. They made him think of fondue.

"Thanks. I kind of dance for a living so…"

Truthfully he hadn't been any kind of a dancer before Big Time Rush. The only moves he'd cared for were in the ice rink.

"Big Time Rush, right?"

Kendall was surprised.

"You know us?"

Of course he shouldn't be considering his status had gotten him into the club.

"You're pretty popular. I've heard a few of your songs on the radio."

Maybe it was the alcohol but Kendall had to laugh.

"I'm sorry but you don't look like our usual fanbase."

They tended to be much younger with less testosterone. The stranger smiled.

"To be honest I'm more of a fan of your moves on the floor than of your band. I'm Greg by the way. And you?"

Yea, Kendall was definitely buzzed.

"Ah, a true fan would already know my name," he joked.

"I'm Kendall."

Instead of shaking his hand, Greg kissed the top of it old-school style like one of those cheesy historical romances. The eighteen year old couldn't help the blush to his cheeks as he brought his hand back.

"What are you having?" Greg asked.

Despite his intentions of leaving after one more drink, Kendall ended up sharing a few more with his suitor. It was just fun to chat about nothing and not have to think for a change. He quickly lost track of time as well as how many drinks he'd had and before he knew it the world was spinning.

"I'd better…better go home," he slurred reaching into both pockets in search of his phone.

His hands couldn't even find their way inside. Greg touched his elbow.

"Hey, if you need a ride?"

Kendall shook his head.

"Nope. Ubbb. I call….ubbb."

He laughed at his words. Greg took his shoulders.

"Nonsense. Why pay for a ride when I'm offering a free one. Come on."

He stood, helping Kendall off the stool.

"My mom shhh nnnnever…nnnnever take rides from strangers."

Greg chuckled.

"After the time we've just spent together I hardly regard you as a stranger, Kendall."

"Mmm hmmmpf."

The next thing he knew he was guided out into the night air and ushered into a vehicle. His head cloudy with booze, Kendall lied back and smiled at the ceiling.

"Best night ever," he murmured happily.

He was vaguely aware of a hand slipping into his lap and slapped it away.

"Nnnot…that kind of guy."

"Your song says you're any kind of guy."

He couldn't help but to howl at that. It sure did!

"Any kind, any kind any kind of guy you want…" he sang stupidly.

He couldn't remember the rest of the lyrics so he kept repeating the same line. Again the hand grazed his lap and he swatted it away.

"Yyyyyou're…yyyyou're frisky," he murmured.

Greg didn't argue.

"And you're sexy as hell Kendall. I want you. From the second you entered my club."

The blond blinked at the ceiling.

"Nnnno…means…nnnno."

He reached out a finger to tap the tip of his suitor's nose.

"Nope!"

Greg shared his laughter but the smile didn't meet his dark eyes.

After some time he was able to extract Kendall's address. It didn't register to the teen how Greg could be sitting in the backseat with him if he was driving. Nothing registered except the vodka on his brain.

"You live alone?"

"Mmm. James."

Greg frowned.

"Your boyfriend?"

"Best ffffriend. He's…he's awesome."

"If he's so awesome why didn't he come out with you tonight?"

Kendall shrugged.

"He's at Carlos—Carlos and Logan's. I made him…cause I said 'go to Carlos and Logan's.' I'm the boss of him."

He raised a hand in victory.

"When is he going to be back?"

Kendall shrugged.

"I don't knnnnnow. They sleep late."

Fingers were running through his blond locks.

"So he's staying the night then."

Kendall nodded. Then he was sick of talking about James.

"You know, it's just like him. Even…even when he's not here he steals the show. Evrrrrrybody loves James. He's so handsome and pretty and…"

"You're so handsome Kendall."

A smile warmed his face.

"Hee hee...you're nice to me. I like you."

Greg was extremely close to his face when he replied; "I like you too."

Lips met his then and Kendall was too drunk to turn them away. He sat there, his eyes fluttering closed as his mouth was invaded with a warm and demanding tongue. As a delayed reaction he began to kiss back. He was treated to a groan from the older man.

Busy hands rode up his chest then, not gentle enough to be a caress. They were hungry, grabbing at him, reaching under the material. Kendall's head was swimming when he felt a sharp pinch of his nipple. That sobered him up enough to push away.

"Wait…wait…"

The hand left his shirt but Greg didn't let up kissing him. Kendall tried to turn his head but the club owner turned him back.

"Wait…stop…stop…"

Too much. Too fast.

The vehicle slowed to a halt and someone called out; " Sir, we've arrived at the destination."

Greg released Kendall then.

"You're home."

Kendall tried to sit up, felt woozy and fell back. He'd had so much to drink.

"Okay, see you around."

He waved goodbye to his new acquaintance.

"How about I help you to your apartment?" Greg suggested.

Kendall wasn't sure if he'd accepted or not but the next thing he knew he was being half lifted into the familiar elevator. With one arm draped around capable shoulders he clumsily moved, unsure of his steps. This guy Greg was pretty buff, buffer than James. His shoulders were broad even under his designer shirt. As they reached the door, the inebriated blond tried to fish out his keys. When he couldn't quite coordinate the movement, Greg reached into his pocket and found them.

"Allow me."

Kendall found himself inside his apartment moments later and murmured a thanks for the hospitality. Greg chuckled at the comment and asked where his room was. Eager to see his bed, Kendall directed him there.

"Thanks again," he slurred, pulling away toward the king-sized mattress.

"You're the best."

He was still moving forward when he felt strong arms wrap around him. Hot lips touched his neck and began to suckle.

"Why don't I show you exactly why I am the best?"

An impatient hand groped at the front of his pants, massaging the lump of his prick.

"No…"

Kendall swatted again but this time the hold didn't loosen. He was pushed forward to the bed, landing on his face. His pants were suddenly yanked harshly down. The force scraped at his thighs and he groaned.

"Ow… stop…"

But the hands didn't stop, instead tugging his boxers away until he was naked from the waist down. Kendall was aware that something was going horribly wrong and tried to turn over.

"Hey, stop!"

The larger man pinned him with ease.

"You're not going to just tease me all night and send me off Kenny-doll."

Greg was on top of his back, kissing his neck. Grinding his erection into his backside.

"Stop," Kendall repeated.

"Stop!"

Greg removed one pinning hand but was still well able to hold him down. Kendall could hear the jingle of a belt buckle as his attacker shifted behind him.

"You're so fucking hot Kendall. You know it. That's why you were throwing it all in my face tonight."

Greg was spitting on something now, still shifting.

"Just relax. You'll like it. I know you will. You little sluts always like it."

There was a stabbing pain as something was forced into Kendall's resistant rear. He screamed, tried to crawl away but the pain persisted as the fleshy object was shoved further in. Greg was grunting, unconcerned with the cries beneath him.

"Please…" but Kendall couldn't breathe another word when the pumping started.

He tried to blink, to understand what was happening to him but the liquor and the shock had his brain flopping. Kendall cried out again, feeling moisture oozing between his thighs before his brain shut down and he was out for the count.

BTRBTBTRBTRBTR

He woke with the worst hangover known to man. Aching all over (hell even his ass hurt) Kendall managed to reach the waste basket beside his bed before emptying his stomach. After everything had come up, he closed his eyes and groaned out loud. He felt like absolute shit.

It took him some time before he was able to get up. Clad in only his boxers he dragged himself out of his room to the smell of fresh coffee. He found James at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area.

"Morning," his best friend's smile was always dazzling bright as it was but today it was just too bright for Kendall's mood.

"Hmmpf," he grunted in return.

James nearly twirled in his seat watching him.

"You look like you had a good time last night," he teased.

Kendall found his favorite mug, the one his mom had given him when she'd moved back to Minnesota. It read "#1 Son." At the time James had gotten a little jealous of the phrasing until Katie had to remind him that Kendall was their mom's only son and that James had a mom of his own.

"I look like shit run over," he remarked.

James didn't argue.

"I know. Which means you must've had a wicked night."

He leaned in expectantly.

"And since you wouldn't let me come along you have to spill everything."

Kendall poured the dark elixir into his mug and blew on it. He wouldn't bother with cream or sugar. Black coffee was his cure to a hangover.

"I don't know how much I can tell you. I barely remember anything."

He moved to sit down on the stool across from him. When his behind hit the seat, however sharp pain radiated through him. Hissing, Kendall sprang up. Half of his coffee spilled as he dropped the mug on the counter.

"Ow!"

James lost his smile.

"What? What's wrong?"

Kendall stared down at the leather seated stool as if it had deliberately caused him pain. Determining that it couldn't possibly do such, he reached around his backside to see if maybe a nail or one of James's combs had stuck him. What he found were his boxers crusted.

"What the…"

James stood, concern all over his face.

"Kendall?"

Kendall blinked, wondering if he'd shit himself in a drunken stupor. If he had he wouldn't be the first. Carlos had earned that prize one crazy night.

Watching him, James came around the counter to inspect.

"What, did you sit on someth—"

His words were cut short by a horrified gasp. Kendall turned around to him.

"What?"

James's hazel eyes were more than concerned now.

"Kendall, what exactly happened last night?"

James's expression worried him.

"I don't, I don't know. Why?"

"You've got dried blood on the back of your boxers."

He stared for a moment, expecting James to take the statement back. When he didn't, Kendall pushed past him to the bathroom they shared. In the full sized mirror (James couldn't live without one) he twisted around to see what his friend spoke of. Indeed there was a large spot.

"What the hell…"

As he attempted an impossible contortion, the waistband on Kendall's boxers shifted. He felt his heart stop cold when he saw the bruises. Dark, purple and at hip level, just where one would grab if—

No.

He pulled his boxers down over the top of his ass, just enough to see that yes the angry purple had a companion on his other hip. He was painfully running his fingers over the marks when James appeared in the doorway. His eyes went to where Kendall's fingers lingered and he let out an audible curse.

"Kendall?"

The blond stared at his reflection, disbelieving.

"What happened last night? Did somebody do that to you?"

He wasn't hearing his friend, only seeing the deep purple marks on his pale skin. The dried blood at the seat of his boxers. His mind began to race as he struggled to remember something, anything from the night before. Any way to explain his injuries.

"Kendall, who did this to you?" his voice cracked on the question.

James was always the more emotional of the two.

"I…"

He'd gone to that big-shot club, the one where the minimum age was twenty-one for girls and twenty-five for guys. He'd had a few drinks, danced a bit but nothing stood out. Several men had bought him drinks but even their faces were a blur. He didn't recall anyone getting rough with him. Then again he didn't recall anything after he'd been on the dancefloor.

"I don't know."

James was already on his phone.

"We have to call 911."

Kendall gestured for him to put the phone down.

"That's only for emergencies."

"This is an emergency, look at you!"

"Is my life being threatened?" he asked with authority.

"The correct answer is 'no.' Besides we don't even know what happened."

He wasn't ready to commit to the obvious conclusion. That someone had done…that to him.

"Don't know what happened?" James repeated incredulously.

"You're bruised and bloody, Kendall! You need medical attention."

He rathered not any attention.

"I'm fine. Must've fallen or something."

James stared. He held up a hand when his best friend tried to counter.

"I said I fell, okay. Drop it."

He knew that James didn't want to but he relented for the moment. Still his handsome friend kept watching him with those eyes of worry. It started to annoy him.

"Can you give me a minute?"

James hesitated then seemed to think better of it and stepped back.

"Okay. But at least let me take you to the ER. That much blood could mean you might need stitches."

Instead of responding Kendall shut the bathroom door in his face. He didn't want to think about stitches. Or hospitals. Or that unspoken word.

He took another look at his reflection noticing for the first time a dark hickie on his neck. So that had been why James was keen on hearing about his night initially. He stared at it then back down to the bruises on his hips.

Maybe someone had grabbed him too hard on the dancefloor. Maybe in a drunken moment he'd ventured into traffic and had to be yanked back. Maybe…

His eyes began to burn and Kendall dived for the toilet. Chucking into the white bowl he let his tears go, pretending that it was all because of the hangover.

BTRBTRBTRBTRBTR

James didn't know what to do. In serious situations he always went to Kendall but in this case that was clearly not an option. It was obvious what had happened but his friend was in no mood to admit it to himself or anyone else. His lame explanation proved as much. He fell? Come on!

Kendall needed a doctor. And an officer too. Because whoever did this needed to pay. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Kendall vomiting. His instinct kicked in and he charged in, dropping to his knees to comfort him.

Kendall was crying. He hadn't seen Kendall cry since kindergarten. When his father had left.

Cuddling behind him, James stroked his hair back, a gesture he'd seen Mrs. Knight do when Kendall was sick or hurt over the years. It seemed to help, his friend relaxed against him. But the tears didn't stop, and the coughing along with it.

Nothing came up when Kendall retched. He was officially on empty. But the more James stroked his hair the less violent his body convulsed and soon he was just lying against the bowl in sniffles.

"J-James?"

His voice was raw from the expulsion of bile and emotion.

"Yea?"

"Don't…don't tell anybody, okay?"

Of course not. It wasn't his secret to tell.

"Okay. But you have to promise me something."

Kendall answered with a weak nod.

"You have to let me take you to a hospital. We could go far out of town to one where nobody knows us. We could even use fake names if you want but please. You need a doctor."

The fact that Kendall didn't argue both worried and relieved James at the same time. He knew his best friend to be pretty stubborn. That he'd lost his fight within wasn't good.

They settled on a small ER in a suburb a good ways from LA and clad in baseball caps and baggy clothes, drove over. Kendall was still sore, it was obvious by the way he sat leaning to his side but he didn't complain. James had supplied him with a water bottle and aspirin for his head. He drank it down in silence.

Halfway there James received a text from Carlos asking if he wanted to hang. As Logan barely seemed to have time for him or anyone anymore he'd been leaning a lot more on James. They'd been getting a lot closer lately which was an odd thing to say considering they'd been friends since childhood.

"It's Carlos," he announced just to make conversation.

Kendall nodded.

"He's probably bored or something. Logan's been so busy with studying and stuff," James rambled.

His best friend was barely paying attention. At the emergency they pretended to be outsiders with no insurance just for the anonymity but when the nurse handed them a series of paperwork asking for a social and other info Kendall froze.

"You guys can't say anything about what we're here for, right?" James asked her warily.

She shook her head.

"Not if we want to keep our careers. That would be a violation of Federal HIPPA laws."

James nodded before turning back to a visibly tense Kendall.

"See, even if you tell them your real name nobody would find out. It's against the law for them to say anything."

He waited for his friend to decide. When he finally nodded, James took the paperwork and they restarted the registration process. A few hours later the exam was finished, stitches applied, prescriptions for pain and antivirals were given and the two were back in LA.