Here, Beneath My Lungs

XI: You Get Me Every Time

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: This was written for queenitsy over at LJ, who gave me this prompt: Ummm. You should write something fast about how Kendall has no ideas what to do for a last-minute Halloween costume, and James makes a lot of not very helpful suggestions, all of which seem to involve Kendall either having to go shirtless or wear very tight pants. James might have an agenda at play there. y/n? :D? Figured I should post it quick, seeing as it's seasonal!

Kendall's standing in front of the full length mirror in James and Carlos's room, eyeing his options. One of the absolute best parts of being in a band is that they get to play dress up all the time, and no one gives them weird looks for it. He's worn every costume under the sun.

So really, he should be more creative than this.

Kendall drapes each outfit across his body, too lazy to actually change into either. They're so blah. He was a vampire last year, and a werewolf the year before. But with the new album so close to dropping, Kendall didn't have time to costume shop this year, and Halloween's tomorrow.

"What are you doing?" James asks, barging into the room.

Which is probably his right, seeing as it is his room.

"Vampire or werewolf?" Kendall asks.

James's eyes rake over him, clinical, calculating. "I can't be seen with you dressed all hairy."

"Who says I want to be seen with you?" Kendall scowls.

James rolls his eyes, completely self-assured in his own vanity. "Everyone wants to be seen with me."

Kendall could argue that it's not strictly true, but it would be a lie. Almost everyone does want to be seen with James Diamond.

"Vampire it is then."

"Will you let me bedazzle your chest?"

"Not going shirtless, James," Kendall says patiently. "I'm not dressing up as Edward Cullen. Vampires are supposed to be scary."

"Then your costume blows. Vampires stopped being scary in the 1800s." James snatches both hangers away. "What else have you got?"

"I could be a ghost." Kendall nibbles on his lower lip and eyes James's bed sheets.

James makes a noise somewhere between an indignant huff and a girlish squeal. "You can't cover up your face! Halloween is not about hiding who you really are."

"I'm pretty sure it is though."

"No." James fixes Kendall with his haughtiest bitch glare. "Halloween is about revealing who you are. Inside."

"I'm- not a vampire inside."

"Obviously. You are not nearly fond enough of glitter." James announces, "I'm going to take you costume shopping."

"What? No. That's not necces-"

"We're going."

Kendall stares at him in abject fear, clearly remembering the last time he allowed James to take him shopping. But. Maybe this time will be different.

Kendall figures a quick trip to the costume store can't hurt.

Much.

He discovers how very mistaken he is the second he steps in the store. He's selected a handful of costumes that he thinks are simultaneously tasteful and creative, and allowed James to usher him into the "fitting room", which is basically a closet covered by a sheet. But when he starts trying things on?

James shoots down everything.

"Chainmail is too…bulky," James decides. "Take it off."

Or,

"Harry Potter? Too much robe!" James exclaims.

Or,

"A football player? We don't even like football. Lame."

"How about this?" Kendall grabs a Scream mask that floods with blood.

"Why don't you just put a bag over your face? Geez." James snatches it away and gives Kendall a critical look. "Next!"

Kendall has tried on a hundred costumes. Or at least ten. Whatever. He hates shopping, and he's beginning to get frustrated. James? Is being obnoxious.

"What are you even supposed to be? A space pirate? That's like, barely a step up from space matadors. Take it off. Take it off now."

Defiantly, Kendall retorts, "Space pirates are awesome. I'm beginning to think you just want me to get naked."

"Don't be silly." James retorts airily. "How about I pick out some costumes?"

James leaves without waiting for a response.

Less than a minute later, he comes back with about twenty plastic slip covers filled with costumes.

The first one doesn't make any sense.

"Why am I wearing a Hawaiian shirt?" Kendall fiddles with the front, trying to do up the buttons.

"Don't button it! That is not what they do in fair Verona!" He pauses. "We need to get you a gun holster."

"I'm confused."

"Have you never seen William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo DiCaprio?"

"Uh. That movie where they talk weird?"

James narrows his eyes. "I'm going to pretend you're joking. That movie is a theatrical masterpiece."

"I'm not sure a theatrical masterpiece can have Hawaiian shirts and guns."

"Shakespeare wrote the screenplay; take it up with him."

Kendall opens his mouth to argue that Shakespeare died a million years ago and never wrote any screenplays, and then he closes it. Sometimes arguing with James just isn't worth it. "I think this costume is too obscure."

Also his nipples are cold.

"You're right. Take it off." James helpfully helps him out of his shirt.

Only, the next costume isn't any better.

"I'm not comfortable with this many ruffles," Kendall says.

"You look fine. Except." James tilts his head to the side. Then he reaches out and undoes a few buttons so that Kendall's chest is exposed. His nipples get cold again. The store should really turn down the AC. "Perfect. Now where's the hat? And we need a swashbuckling sword!"

"James? No."

"Fine," James sighs. "Next!"

It's when James forces Kendall to dress up as a musketeer -licking his lips all the while- that Kendall starts to get suspicious. "These tights are really tight."

"I know. I mean, uh, you're right. Here, try this!"

Kendall frowns at the costume, reading the title. "German serving wench? James, this is for a girl."

"Oh. Um. Okay, how about this one?"

Dutifully, Kendall changes. Next thing he knows, he's standing there dressed in a starched button down that barely covers anything and socks. There is a definite draft getting up in places he does not want a draft to get to.

"James, I've never even seen Risky Business. Have you?"

"No." James makes a rude noise. "It was made in like, the eighties."

"Well then." Kendall goes to cross his arms, but that just pulls the shirt up a little higher. James grins.

Kendall vetoes a skimpy Greek Adonis outfit, a hula skirt, and a Spartan warrior costume before they run out of bags. As they venture back out into the store to search for more options, James muses, "Maybe we could do something with body paint. How would you feel about being blue?"

"You are not painting my body!"

"Shame." James snags a bag. "What about this? Or this? Or this?" He snatches up three costumes in quick succession, moving so fast that Kendall doesn't have time to read the names gracing the clear plastic.

Kendall feels like throwing a tantrum in the middle of the store, except that he's a seventeen year old boy. Seventeen year old boys do not have hissy fits.

Or so he's told.

That information hasn't really reflected his real life experience; James has a hissy fit every five minutes, and Carlos and Logan are prone to their own capricious tempers. Still. Kendall's almost an adult now. He straightens his shoulders, stiffens his upper lip, and tries very, very hard not to punch James right in the middle of his smug face.

Instead he seethes, "I hope this is amusing for you."

James looks at him and shrugs. "It is."

"I'm not a doll. You can't dress me up and-" Kendall doesn't get to finish his sentence because James shoves a new costume right in his face. Kendall's mouth now tastes like plastic.

"Try this one, too," he says helpfully.

Back in the fitting room, Kendall stares down into the first bag. "James. What is this?"

"A costume." James crosses his arms and smirks, all wicked mischief and delight.

That may be so, but Kendall isn't seeing a lot of costume here. He picks up a small black piece of cloth and spins it on his index finger. "Right…what's with the mankini?"

"Chippendale's dancer," James replies, eyes sparkling.

"James."

"Kendall."

"If you wanted me to get naked, you could have just asked."

This inscrutable look darts across James's face. And then-

"Get naked," James draws out the demand, hooking a finger in the front of Kendall's jeans.

Kendall stumbles forward. He was mostly joking, but hey. Kendall's really a go-with-the-flow kind of guy, and James actually looks serious. Kendall obediently begins fumbling with the zipper of his pants, caught somewhere between awestruck and turned on.

It becomes clear within seconds that he's forgotten how to work the front of his jeans, made clumsy by the sudden onset of his lust. James bats his hands out of the way, taking over. He pops the button at of Kendall's pants and mumbles, "You sure you don't want to dress up like a stripper?"

Kendall laughs dryly, trying to hide how nervous he is. "Maybe next time."

James looks him dead in the eye, his hand dipping inside of Kendall's jeans, past the fabric of his boxers and twisting across Kendall's cock. He thumbs over the head, and then skims down, palm skidding against the shaft. There's not a lot of grace or dignity a person can muster up when they're giving you a handjob in the middle of a dressing room half the size of a water closet, but James manages pretty well. He's completely one hundred percent focused on Kendall, his eyes sharp and intense. He moves fast, not sparing any time for foreplay, building a quick rhythm that makes Kendall feel weak all over.

Outside, children shriek. Teenage girls coo over slutty fairytale costumes. A couple of frat guys play fight with plastic swords. Kendall can see it every time the curtain flutters, little flashes of life that don't matter- can't matter- when James is touching him.

The friction James builds feels like static electricity. It's half painful, half a pleasurable buzz that Kendall can feel crawling up his spine; making his hair stand on end. Kendall is thrusting up into the tight cave of his hand, desperate not to get caught, desperate to come hot and hard across James's knuckles. Kendall wants to see what his long-fingered hands look like painted white.

James moves faster, getting his wrist behind it. He breathes Kendall's name and flicks his tongue out against Kendall's lips. It's not even a kiss, and Kendall still can't take it. His head drops against James's shoulder, his body stiffening. He comes with a soft sound, choked into the fabric of James's t-shirt, jerking up into James's hand.

There's this odd quiet after, this moment where Kendall can hear how fast James's heart is beating beneath his ribcage and the laughter outside the dressing room sounds muted in comparison. And then-

"James?"

"Yeah?" James is breathing hard; Kendall can feel the press of his dick against his hip.

"I still don't have a costume."

"Oh." James perks up. He doesn't look too concerned about getting off; like maybe he knows that there's plenty of time for it later.

Kendall hopes there will be plenty of time for that later. His mind is already scrambling to figure all the different ways he can make this happen again; all the different expressions James is going to make when he-

"You know what that means? More shopping! I'm thinking cowboy. We'll get you a suede vest and chaps-"

"No."

"Caveman?"

"James, I'm wearing pants and a shirt! It's not up for negotiation."

James pauses. "Sexy police officer? We could get you handcuffs."

"Oka- wait, no!"

James laughs, and in that moment, Kendall pulls him forward for a kiss. Because he's gorgeous, and ridiculous. There's no one else in the world Kendall would let dress him up like a life sized doll, but he already knows he's going to play James's guinea pig for a few more hours at least.

Kendall deserves a kiss for that.

He loses himself in James, in the pressure of his mouth and the slick feel of his tongue.

"You know," James mumbles against Kendall's lips, "We don't even have to go out for Halloween. We could stay in. All night. And then you wouldn't need a costume."

"Oh?"

"…You should probably still bring the handcuffs."

"I'm not dressing up as a sexy police officer!"

"Damn."

A/N: Please review! No, seriously. I'm thinking about capping off this little oneshot thing after one or two more teensy chapters, just 'cause no one really seems interested. It's a lot of work posting here on top of LJ and AO3, man.