Before I get into the authors note, I just want to send unbelievable amounts of love to TurtlePath, CarlosLover93, ShatteredDiamonds, and of course my homegirl MinuteCloser2Falling for their awesome, encouraging reviews. I love all of you, this chapter is for you guys.
Alright, now into the author's note. There is semi-explicit sex in this chapter(about time someone had sex that wasn't Carlos with a skeevy man right?), it's not very graphic, certainly not as graphic as I'd usually get. has restrictions on the content I can and can't post, so I gotta get creative with my smut, more class and less cock. haha The sex scene is Kendall/Carlos, but this is still a James/Carlos fic, which you guys will see.
"I don't want to go to a club." He protests, sitting half naked on his bed watching as James digs through his closet, Carlos in tow. Kendall's not the kind of guy who goes clubbing, ever. That's not his scene, he's simpler, he likes to meet a girl the old fashioned way, through work or mutual friends, at a place that isn't designed solely for the purpose of drunken hook ups. He's more of a romantic than he lets on.
"Dude, even Logan is going, you're coming." James tosses him a pair of jeans he's only worn one and only because his girlfriend at the time had bought them for him and he'd been obligated to wear them the next day before stuffing them away where his shame could not be seen. His ex didn't have the best of taste; no girl who buys her boyfriend form fitting black pants can be a true fashionista. He looks weird in them and he feels uncomfortable, too exposed. He prefers his jeans loose and his t-shirts the same way too.
"Wear this too." Carlos throws him his white button up shirt and it flutters through the air to him delicately, strangely graceful as it glides.
"I fucking hate you two." He mutters, doing up his shirt, relieved that at least he isn't the only one dressed like some kind of wannabe player. James is wearing leather pants and a matching jacket with a light blue long sleeve underneath. Carlos has on his infamous leather pants, the ones that cling to his ass and his thighs, make him look toned and built in places Kendall wills himself not to stare. He's having a few problems adjusting to a gay roommate, which is probably completely natural, and if he asked James and Logan would probably admit to the same type of issue. Carlos' shirt is short sleeved and white with a black design he doesn't recognize but doesn't expect himself to. He dresses how he does because he wants to, for no other reason than he thinks something looks good. "Why'd you have to agree Logan?" Logan shrugs in his outfit that was obviously picked out for him by his girlfriend, there's no other reason he'd be wearing a lavender colored anything out in public unless there was a girl behind it.
"Camille wanted to go out and meet you three. I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone."
"You may have killed two birds but those were my birds and now I'm fucking pissed." He isn't really, he's just exasperated, embarrassed in his clothes, flustered because Carlos is smoothing some of the wrinkles from the cloth bunched up around his shoulders, smiling at him like he always does. He wonders if Carlos smiles when he kisses, if his teeth would be warm against Kendall's lips, and it's not a thought he wants, not a thought he needs. He's into girls; he loves girls, perky breasts and smooth thighs and curved hips. He's totally into that. He lives for long hair that tickles his cheek in bed and long, manicured nails that cut grooves into his back.
"Lighten up Kendall." Carlos slaps him lightly across the chest, beaming, excitement pink in his cheeks. "This is going to be fun. You can dance with all the hot girls you want."
"I guess." He gives up, smiling himself. Carlos' happiness is infectious, like a super contagious, joy causing disease. "Let's head out."
"Before we leave." James pulls a mini can of body spray from his pocket, squirts them each in the face before they have a chance to react and move out of the way. "There we go, now we're all Cuda-tastic."
"I didn't want to be Cuda anything." Carlos huffs, shoving James and scowling; glee beneath his thinly veiled anger.
"Chicks and other guys will be all over you, man, you'll thank me." James sprays himself in a thick mist of the stuff, so much the air his clogged with the musky, overly male scent. It smells like a guy who needs to overcompensate. "Okay." James smoothes down his hair and checks himself in the mirror, making what must be some kind of rehearsed model pout. "There's enough gorgeous here for the entire club."
"Yeah." Logan agrees, rolling his eyes. "The handsome factor in the room just went up exponentially, congratulations." Logan pushes James through the doorway urgently. "Come on, Camille is going to be there and I don't want her waiting outside for too long."
The inside of the club is everything he anticipated. It's loud, music and base rhythms pounding in his ears, so loud he doubts anyone can think, which really isn't the point of a club anyways. No one comes to a club for deep conversation, he certainly hasn't. He's hoping to meet someone nice, someone with breasts and curves, someone who will make him forget about his weird fascination with Carlos. He wants someone small and sweet. What he really wants, more than companionship or for the weird gay vibes Carlos transmits to everyone, is a job, a way he can stop relying on his roommates to pay his rent and utilities and stock his fridge.
"Guys, I'd like you to meet Camille." Logan's girl is pretty, brown hair and eyes, short black dress and matching heels, lipstick the color of blood. She looks like a nice, wholesome girl, intelligent and funny and compassionate, everything a girlfriend should be. Logan adores her and anyone can see it in his eyes when he looks at her, holds her hand as he leads her to the bar to buy her a drink.
"Aw, Logan's girlfriend is cute." Carlos shouts just so they can hear him. All talking in the club near the dance floor is done with shouts and further away near the bar and the corners there's relative quiet, at least silence enough for people to talk and still be heard. "She has a nice ass." The comment shocks him, has one of his eyebrows arching up with a will of his own, surprise he can't contain or hide; pure, genuine confusion. He doesn't know if gay guys can say those things and still be gay.
"Eh." James shakes his head, makes a 'so-so' motion with his hand. "She's good looking but her boobs are kind of small." He agrees with them, not that he'd say them when Logan is around. That's not what friends do. Critiquing a pal's girlfriend in private is okay as long as it's being done in the pal's best interest. "She really likes him and that's all that matters to me."
"Ditto." He nods, clinking his beer against James' before taking a long swallow. The beer is icy on the way down his throat, cool as the bottle in his hand, the frosted over glass.
"And now—" Carlos opens his arms, pausing for dramatic effect, his bottle of beer already empty on the table. "we dance."
He doesn't get into a groove right away, not like Carlos and James. He has to work past the self-consciousness first, the knowledge that any of the girls around him can look his way and size him up without his permission, without him being able to put on his very best show. Dancing horribly enough can scare away even the perfect potential girlfriend.
"Kendall." James dances over to him, winking at a girl to his right as he does so, moving his body to the beat. "That blonde chick is totally checking you out, go dance with her." He notices the girl James means, she's short and her long blonde hair reflects the low light while her hips move sinuous and dirty. He looks over to Carlos for approval, 'cause he can't go after her unless they both agree, but Carlos is grinding up against a petite African American girl, their bodies moving in tandem and another girl is pressed up against his back, a third waiting for her turn to cut in. Huh, it really is unfair that gay guys always get the hottest girls. The mystery blonde doesn't mind when he places a hand on her waist to feel her body's rhythm, adjust himself to her pace. She smiles at him, teeth partially hidden behind her hair, the kind of shy he was hoping for.
"Hi, I'm Kendall." He whispers loudly, his lips right beside her ear.
"Jo." She yells back and the introductions cease and the dancing takes over. He dances until there is sweat on the small of his back, on his forehead, threatening to ruin his curb appeal. He needs to take a break.
"This was nice Jo, I'll be back." She waves him off, steals a peek at him when she thinks he isn't looking, leaning in to giggle with one of her friends.
He joins Logan and Camille at the bar, orders a fresh beer, sips at it and listens to Camille and Logan explain how they work together. It's cute that they found each other that way, as though fate brought them together, if Kendall were the type of guy who believed in fate. He's come to find out that there is no such thing and you have to go through life on your own, do what you can and if you fail then you have to fight and claw even harder. He's only booked a low paying singing gig and a crappy kid's party acting gig in the last month but he keeps on trying, because his mom and sister would never allow him to give up.
"Wow." Camille is drinking something blue and slushy that comes in a martini glass. "Your friends are weird." He follows her gaze and sure enough, James and Carlos are doing what some would consider a cheap imitation of break dancing on a stage in the middle of the room. Carlos is pretty good at it but James is more flopping around than dancing and then they switch and Jesus, they have to be completely wasted already to be that bad this early in the evening.
"Believe it or not, when they aren't failing at a half assed dance routine they're not too bad." He knows this from experience. They've both beaten him at DDR enough to prove that they do in fact possess enough coordination to dance without making complete fools of themselves.
"Ha." Logan snorts into his beer. "They got kicked off the stage."
Carlos and James are back on the dance floor, dancing as intensely as before with less disastrous results. He's not ashamed to admit knowing them now that they've toned it down a bit. He watches and thinks of Jo's flat little belly, the roundness of her breasts, and it gets him going, has him shifting where he stands. He hasn't been with a girl in months; he's been too busy trying to pay the bills, which explains why Jo's and Carlos' thighs are interchangeable and why he's staring at his friend so intently.
"Are you having a good time Kendall?" He follows Carlos into the bathroom, splashes water onto his face and thinks. There's too much going on inside him, he feels like a passenger riding around in his own flesh.
"Surprisingly, yeah, I am." He could get used to coming here, used to the lights and the darkness and the beat, the infection of rhythm that gets under his skin.
"So.." Carlos grins, leaning against the sink counter. "You bringing that blonde back to our apartment or are you going to her place?"
"Neither." He's pretty fucking confused about life at the moment, doesn't want to bring an innocent person into that shit.
"At least get her nu—" He's always considered himself to be a smart person, but he's willing to reconsider it, because he's just done something that's about ten kinds of stupid. He's kissing Carlos and they both taste like beer, an underlying hint of salt from dinner. Carlos' lips are softer than he thought they'd be, probably from the lipgloss he wears on special occasions, the nights he tries to leave the apartment without letting them look at his face.
"I didn't mean to do that." He apologizes after he has very carefully pulled away, tasting the bitterness of beer flavored saliva.
"It's okay." Carlos shifts his weight on his feet, flutters his fingers nervously. "It happens; it's not a big deal."
He kisses him again and this time Carlos makes a surprised, sharp sound in his throat that Kendall swallows down as he pushes his tongue past Carlos' lips. He's being an equal mix of brave and stupid tonight, going for broke, all or nothing. He thinks he might just need to get the gay out of his system, because you can never be too sure whether or not you like something until you try it. "Wait." Carlos pushes him away by placing a hand on his collarbone. "I don't understand."
"I don't either." It's a hard thing to admit to and Carlos takes it well, smiles and moves his hand from the top of his chest to his face. "I mean, I'm gay right? Or bi?" Carlos laughs softly, pats his cheek.
"It doesn't really work like that. You are what you are, don't sweat it, just have fun. You're in a club full of hot people, pick one and enjoy it!"
He shoves Carlos backwards, right up against the sink and holds his face between his hands to properly kiss him, wreck his entire mouth. Carlos goes still and Kendall uses the opportunity to lift him up onto the counter, lean one hand against the mirror for balance as he leans in. The taste of beer on Carlos' tongue fades and then the kiss is just heat and spit, the occasional click of teeth. He struggles to pull Carlos' leather pants down his hips and Carlos doesn't help him with it, sits with his back against the mirror looking lost in thought, already fucked out and breathless.
"You okay?" He asks, succeeding in getting Carlos' pants off at last, mentally cheering his victory. He's not doing too shabby for his first gay experience.
"Yeah." Carlos breathes, chest rising and falling rapidly, sliding his thighs apart so they fit around Kendall's waist. "Does this mean something?"
"No, absolutely not. We're friends, that's all." Friends with benefits, he can handle that, can handle having that with Carlos.
"Alright then." Carlos grins, curling a hand around the back of his neck to pull him in.
Doing it with a guy isn't all that different. He's never thought about another man this way before. He's never been able to appreciate broad shoulders and a flat chest, the strength of another dude's thighs, only now he is, and it's something that will confuse him in the morning for sure. It doesn't feel like anything new when he finally nudges inside, breathing hard into Carlos' shoulder, unsure of what exactly he's supposed to do, if there's anything more to this than the basic fucking logistics. There's a greedy pull in his belly that flushes him warm and suddenly he's too hot inside his skin, against Carlos'. He's burning but Carlos is burning with him, hands on the counter to brace himself each time Kendall rocks in, finding an easy, simple rhythm and sticking to it. He falters with it sometimes, keeps his face in the curve of Carlos' neck, listens to the noises his friend makes, the sudden intakes of breath. It ends quickly, which is probably for the best, since they're doing it in the bathroom of a club where anyone can walk in and see. That makes the sex more exciting though, has him speeding up, trying to get them off the best way he can. Carlos narrowly avoids coming on Kendall's shirt, shudders silent and just the feel of it has Kendall finishing too, mouthing the tender skin on Carlos' throat while he does. "Ready go to back out?"
Carlos cleans up with a paper towel, shimmies back into his pants, sweat glistening on the back of his neck, pearl and diamond bright.
"I'll be there in a second."
He stands in front of the mirror, stares at the outline of his hand printed onto the mirror from the heat of his body, and wonders what is supposed to happen next.
If you liked, loved, hated, raged, I want to know. Drop me a review if you feel like it.
Besos y brazos (kisses and hugs)
