Here, Beneath My Lungs

VII: So Black And Blue (Every Time I Fell For You)

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Something summery for the fourth of July, guys! The title is a sad bastardization of Bruises by Chairlift.


"Surfing is a state of mind."

"Can we be done now?"

"You aren't in the right state of mind," James accuses, digging his fingertips into Kendall's ribcage. He's trying to teach him how to balance properly on his surfboard. But even on the sand, Kendall's all wobbly and knock-kneed, so James has got an arm wrapped around his waist and another trying to line up his back.

"Sor-ry. That's probably because I'm concussed."

They actually went through this entire routine this morning. It didn't end well.

"You're fine."

"Did you see the way the board hit me in the head? I am not fine. I am the opposite of fine. In fact, this looks like blood to me." Kendall drags his hand through his hair and proceeds to wiggle his fingers, damp with saltwater and a little pinkish.

James snorts. Kendall imagines that he'd been a little worried the first time Kendall fell, sure. The second time James had mostly seemed to find funny. By the time the third fall occurred, James appeared to think Kendall was doing it on purpose, just to be dramatic.

Kendall sort of thinks James might be right. His balance is just fine on skates, after all.

"Stop being a pussy."

"I am not," he gasps, completely offended.

James tucks his face into Kendall's shoulder so that he won't see the way James can't stop grinning. Kendall is not fooled. He's figured out that James thinks Kendall's offended face is the most ridiculous thing in all of existence. Consequently, he's figured out that James tries to force it into existence as much as humanly possible.

Kendall might sometimes make the face on purpose.

"Then suck it up. Pain makes you stronger."

"Stronger. Great. When I have to be hospitalized, you get to explain the reason why to Gustavo."

"You wouldn't do that to me."

With a wicked grin that James probably can't see, Kendall challenges, "Try me."

"Sadist."

"Says the man who won't let me quit this stupid sport."

"Surfing is not stupid. Look, Carlos has a hang of it." James points to where Carlos is riding the curl of a wave like he was born to do it.

"Carlos has no regard for his own safety. If god wanted us to stand on the water, it would be frozen."

"You. Sound like Logan right now."

"What? I do n- wait. I do. See? This is what you've reduced me to," Kendall exclaims, mortified.

"You could go read with him on the beach. I think his book is by-" James squints and concludes, "Someone who doesn't write in English. Ooh. You can spend your day reading Russian."

Kendall follows his gaze. "I think that's Tagalog."

"Pssh, there's no country named Tagalo. And they say I don't know geometry."

"Geography, James. And Tagalog's what they speak in the Philippines."

"Um, no, that's Filipino," James says, because he enjoys being purposely dense.

Kendall's mouth gapes open and shut. He can feel James's jaw move against his shoulder, a shift that feels like a smile. Kendall rolls his eyes. He's understood for a long time that James loves it when people underestimate him. He thinks it gives him some kind of secret advantage, or something.

Kendall thinks James's stupid face gives him a secret advantage, but that's probably not actually so secret.

"You're right. I don't know why I know any of this anyway."

James probably knows. He dated a Filipino girl once. Kendall made it his life's mission to destroy her. She was ruining the dynamic of the band.

What?

She was.

"Right, so if the lesson's over, Wikipedia, it's time to get back in the water."

"I'd rather not."

"It's this or you break in a new language."

"How about I go buy lunch instead? Hey, Carlos! You want a cornd- mmph.!"

"Don't do that," James orders, hand tight around Kendall's mouth. Kendall can feel the way his best friend's heart is pounding through his ribcage; the rhythm steady against his spine, pressed in tight to James's stomach.

"Mmmmph?"

"He'll fall off his board in his crazy rush to get over here. I'm not spending my beach day in the hospital."

"Mmmph mmmmph mmph."

Kendall waves his possibly bloody hand in front of James's face, trying to make a point about his potential concussion.

"Whiner," James says. Kendall glares at him, sopping wet bangs in his eyes. James laughs and lets him go, watching as he stumbles onto the sand. Kendall considers making a break for Logan, but a quick analysis of what Logan is actually reading makes him change his mind.

It's definitely not in English.

Patient, James waits for Kendall to go through the motions of hefting up his board like all of his muscles have turned to liquidy jello. He does not look impressed by Kendall's theatrics.

When Kendall finally, hesitantly wades into the Pacific until the water's up to his hips, James orders, "Okay, paddle out."

Kendall does, swimming until his arms ache. Once he's pretty sure they're out so far that there is not a single wave they won't be able to catch, he begins to turn the board around. Then the tip of James's board bumps against his side and he hears, "Whoa. What are you doing? We're not far enough."

Stubbornly, Kendall insists, "I think we are."

"Are you the surf master?"

"No. And I am not calling you that."

"Farther," he orders, and Kendall isn't sure how to feel about bossy James.

He swims another twenty feet and then goes to turn.

"Still not far enough," James calls, passing him by. He's got arms made of steel, and his highlights are glittering like old gold in the sun.

Kendall sighs and follows. He wishes he'd asked Logan about the possibility of sharks. Or giant squid.

Or anacondas. Do they have anacondas in the Pacific Ocean? Probably not, but Kendall thinks that would be pretty cool.

Finally, after what feels like a million years, James says, "I think we're good."

Kendall turns back towards shore, pushing up so that he's straddling the board. The coastline looks like a distant white line.

"We're really far out."

"Yeah. Sweet, isn't it?"

"No, but, can they even see us out here?"

"Who cares?"

James is still paddling, he notices. In fact, James is still paddling straight towards Kendall.

He then proceeds to use his momentum to flip Kendall off of his surfboard.

Kendall gulps seawater, sputtering, and oh, James is so dead if he ever reaches dry land again. His head breaks the surface, vertigo forcing him to spin around until he can find a fixed point of white sand and palm trees in the distance.

He hopes a giant squid gets its tentacles around James. He hopes a shark bites off of his head, gleaming highlights and all. He hopes that-

"Oops."

"I don't buy your innocent face for a second," Kendall coughs, clinging to the side of his board and still thinking something along the lines of release the kraken in James's general direction. His esophagus feels like it is staging a miniature coup against his lungs, having obviously decided that oxygen is not all that important.

"Let's just chill here," James suggests, rolling onto his back so that his body is practically fucking glistening in the sun. Kendall's jealous. His body does not glisten. He never looks like a marble statue.

It kind of pisses him off, so he shoves James off of his board.

That's really what he deserves for being a show off.

When James bobs up out from beneath the surface with a grimace, Kendall decides to educate him.

"One. Treading water is not fun. Two. I think that lifeguard's about to hop on his jet ski to come save us."

"Oh," James tilts his head, but he doesn't look all that interested in the lifeguard who seems to be doing some sort of rain dance on the shore, frantically waving them back in. James looks more like he's trying to get water out of his ear, which is stupid, because they're in the ocean, and he's just going to get more in it. "That could be a problem."

He swims around the side of his surfboard so that the two of them are floating between polyurethane. He wraps his arm around Kendall's waist, pulling him in so close that their legs tangle and their mouths bob dangerously near the water's surface.

Kendall spits ocean and glares at James. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" James asks ingenuously, and no, that is not going to work. Not at all.

Kendall starts to say what exactly he knows, but James stops him with a kiss, their bodies pressed so close and tight and hot that Kendall can barely feel the cold Pacific enveloping him anymore. His tongue goes deep, probing, and Kendall feels really dizzy. It's only when he realizes that they've sunk at least two feet below sea level and he kind of can't breathe anymore than he pushes away, shoving off of James's chest.

When he breaks the surface, he gasps for air. He hears James come up a few feet away, lazily stroking towards the boards that the current is beginning to whisk towards deeper waters. He tows them back to Kendall and says, "Hop on. We're going to have to paddle back before that lifeguard gives us a lifetime ban."

Kendall decides that yeah, James is hot when he is bossy. "Can they do that?"

"Let's not find out. This is the closest beach to the label, and I like coming here on our lunch break."

James pushes Kendall's surfboard over until he's got an arm across the slick surface. Then he uses his free hand to pull Kendall back in close, planting his mouth over his in a soft kiss that still makes Kendall's lips tingle and his possibly concussed brain spin.

By the time that Kendall realizes James has pulled away, his friend's already straddling his board, a cheeky smirk on his lips.

"So what was it you knew?"

"This entire surf lesson thing was just an excuse to get your hands all over me, wasn't it?"

James grins, sunshine and salt water, mischief and the carefree happiness of a day off with the person you love.

He's kind of a sneaky bastard.

Kendall can live with that.


A/N: Please review!