A/N: So, this one fought me, too. It was, like, a couple paragraphs, then two days of nothing. Then a few paragraphs. Then a couple more days of nothing. Then I some more writing, but I kept getting interrupted and everything just kept leaving my head and it was a challenge to get it back, but here it is!
And right now, I'm tired and I'm achy and I'm in need of a shower, which none of you needed to know. If you're even reading this. I bet half of you just skip these notes and just get straight to the update. I could just put anything here. Bleep blap bloop! I put that on my friend's FaceBook wall today. It's the phrase of the day I guess...
Right anyway, time to be serious. Um. Don't think I need to legally cover my ass over anything in this chapter. Although I will say...Freight Train has my back so there will be no killing of the author! Masbabies, you won't know what happens, the whole thing. Just don't do it. Okay? Okay.
Enough rambling. On with the update!
Kendall inhaled deeply, puffing his cheeks up, before blowing the air out harshly. Raising his right hand, he knocked on the metal door in front of him, one that had a piece of paper taped to it that marked the room behind as James Diamond's dressing room, the room that James' best friend Logan had led him in front of after stating the singer wanted to see Kendall. See him, just some random metal head teenager who never thought he'd be at a pop show, much less about to figuratively lose his shit because he was about to talk to the star.
God, this entire situation was a total mind fuck.
A muffled "c'min" sounded out from within the room, Kendall's heart stopping at the word. He had no idea what the fuck to expect when he opened the door, no idea why the singer wanted to talk to him, if he even wanted to talk. Fuck, what if he knew? What if he was aware of Kendall's secret obsession with the guy? What if the blond wasn't as good at hiding his feelings and his thoughts as he believed he was? What if he was about to be torn a new one by the pop star, told to back the fuck off, told to get a fucking life and/or go to Hell?
Nah. Surely a security guard would do that. Plus Kendall highly doubted the celeb would ruin his rep by being a dick, no matter how much the teen may have deserved it.
Deciding there was only one way to find out exactly what James wanted, Kendall grabbed hold of the knob, twisting it and pushing the door open before stepping inside.
His eyes immediately found the pop star, watching him walk away from the door, fingers running through his bangs, fixing his hair. His leather jacket was now gone, black bandana visible around his left wrist. The blond closed the door, the sound making the singer stop and turn around, their eyes locking once more. Kendall felt his heart stopping, the organ restarting twice as fast as he witnessed the corner of James' lips slightly curve up, several emotions flickering across his face, although it seemed like the singer was trying to hide them all.
"Hey," the brunet breathed out, shoulders relaxing, hands dropping to his sides. He seemed relieved, like he'd been worried about whether or not the blond would actually come. Which clearly showed how little they knew each other. Fuck, this entire thing was so fucking weird.
"Hey," Kendall replied, swallowing hard, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking. A quick glance down showed him that his pounding heart wasn't outwardly visible. He just hoped he wasn't giving any other tell-tale signs as to how badly he was freaking the fuck out.
Which really, couldn't be helped. He was shut in a room with a guy he'd been lusting over for two months now, a guy that he had an intense connection with, a sexual chemistry so strong it caused goosebumps to break out over his flesh and his entire body to heat up, at the same time. And of course, it was made worse by the fact that it was now just the two of them, no one else around to worry about what they'd think if they saw something, to worry about being indecent in front of. So, of course, all Kendall could think about was how fast they could both get naked and get the pop star inside him. Or him inside the singer. He didn't care either way, as long as they had that skin-to-skin contact all over as they moved together and have it end with both of their stomachs painted white and a high so intense it put all his other fucks to shame. He wanted the singer to ruin other guys for him. Forever.
James looked around the blond, at the closed door, before meeting the younger male's green eyes once again. "Where's your sis?"
"With Freight Train at the merch booth."
The singer nodded, licking his lips, causing Kendall to imagine that tongue on his own lips—along with other parts of his anatomy.
Yeah, he should stop before he got a little too obvious about what he was thinking. Downside of being a dude.
"Figured you'd feel better having him with her, watching her," the pop star stated, hooking his thumbs in the back pockets of his tight jeans. "You're a good brother like that."
Kendall snorted, rolling his eyes, thinking about how wrong the brunet male was. "Yeah, not really."
"You got the tickets for her. That's something."
He rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging slightly. "I guess," he admitted reluctantly.
"It is." James flicked his head to the side, moving his bangs out his eyes. "I know how much VIP costs. Can't be easy for a college student to pay for that."
The younger male furrowed his brow, feeling lost, no idea how or why the other guy thought that about him. "I'm not in college."
Confusion set over the elder's face, his own eyebrows scrunched up. "You're not—how old are you?"
"Seventeen."
James eyebrow's lifted, hand shoved in his hair. He breathed out a "fuck" as he turned to the side, moving his hand down to smear over his face.
Kendall felt even more confused than ever. What the fuck did his age have to do with anything? Why was the singer so shocked that he was seventeen? Why did it matter so much?
Unless...
Whatever. Legal age of consent in Minnesota is sixteen, so Kendall was fine.
Well, if what he was assuming James was thinking was true, then he'd be fine. If not, then he'd just be sorely disappointed. Which seemed like nothing new at that point and was pretty much what he'd been setting himself up for the entire time. But considering the fact that James had sent his friend to go get Kendall so the two of them could be alone, there was definitely something going on that the singer wasn't admitting. At least not admitting it to Kendall.
Deciding the only way he was gonna get shit figured out was by asking, the blond finally opened his fucking mouth and said something. "What? Why the 'fuck'? Why the question about my age?"
The singer turned back, shaking his head before fixing his bangs. "Nothing. Just. Nothing." He fully faced the younger male, folding his arms over his chest in a relaxed manner. "You're not much of a fan of mine, are you?"
Kendall's eyes widened at the sudden subject change. The guy should've thrown up a fucking sign or some shit, like they do on the highway. "About to throw you a curve by talking about something completely different. Prepare accordingly."
James kept talking, not seeming to notice the other male's reaction, just continuing on with his explanation. "I mean, you have a metal shirt on—I like the 'Hot Damn' on it, by the way," he commented, pointing to the tee covering Kendall's torso before refolding his arms. "Last time, it was a Dethklok shirt, so you're clearly-"
"Wait," the blond interrupted, not caring about being polite, only wanting to point something out, to get an explanation of a different kind. "You remember what I was wearing?" He tried to hide the excitement in his voice, the extreme joy, tamp down his emotions and not make it seem so completely obvious how badly he was freaking out by that small little slip the singer had let out. The guy had remembered what he was wearing, which meant he had to remember the blond himself. Right?
James' hazel eyes widened, mouth opening as he let out an "uh" as he clearly struggled to come up with a response. He ran his fingers through his bangs, fussing over them, clearing his throat as he put a flat expression on his face, recovering in a way. "Yeah, people show me pics of you onstage, ya know? A lot. They ask what happened between us and whatever, so I've seen that shirt a lot."
"Oh." Kendall felt his face fall as his heart sank. He wasn't remembered. The singer didn't memorize what he looked like or what he'd been wearing. He was just another fan.
"Yeeeah," the brunet stretched out the word, dropping his hand, shoving both in the pockets of his jeans. "So, anyway, I figure with the metal shirts and the fact that you brought your sister the tickets to this show, you're not really a fan of mine."
The blond's earlier inner-conflict about how much to reveal came back as he stood there, wondering what to say. He felt like he was in a lose-lose situation. He could lie and say he wasn't and risk having the singer's ego damaged and the teenager getting kicked out. Or he could tell the truth and say he wanted to be more than a fan and that the past two months have been spent pining over him, then risk getting kicked out for being an insane stalker.
He was fucked. And not in the good way.
Swallowing hard again, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, something he seemed to be doing a lot that day. Yay, anxiety!
"Honestly?" he started, dropping his hand and slapping it against his thigh. "I wasn't."
"Wasn't?" the pop star questioned, clearly picking up on the wording, on the implication of that statement. "What changed your mind?"
Another internal debate before he decided "fuck it". If he gets kicked out, he gets kicked out. At least then he'd have some sort of answers.
"You looked at me."
James inhaled sharply, something flashing on his face, but before Kendall could figure it out, the singer turned away, hands shoved in his hair as he let out a groan, followed by the other male's name. "What are we doing?"
More confusion, Kendall feeling like he was living up to the stereotypes surrounding his hair color. "Uh, you asked to talk to me, remember?" he told the singer's back, hand on his chest as he pointed to himself.
"I know, I know. I just..." The brunet trailed off, letting out a harsh sigh, turning around as he dropped his hands from his hair, letting them hang by his sides before he started rambling. "I saw you in the crowd that night and wanted to bring you onstage, then I saw you at the meet and greet and I just-" He paused, shaking his head before continuing with his fast paced spiel. "Then I went to talk to Logan, but when I turned around you were gone and-" He suddenly stopped, another harsh sigh leaving him as he put a hand on his hip, left hand shoved in his hair again.
Kendall felt his heart stop with James' pause, breath held in his lungs, and he had a feeling that if he was sitting down, he'd be on the edge of the chair once more. It was so weird how he had all these seemingly life-altering moments happen recently, after not having one for a few years, not since his dad bailed. But now he was finding himself, yet again, waiting on someone's words that could change his future in some way.
It was what he'd been waiting on for months, since that moment onstage, since he'd locked eyes with the singer and felt his hand within his own. He'd been longing for answers, needing them, needing a resolution to this whole thing. And now he was about to get it.
As soon as James found his tongue.
Swallowing yet another lump in his throat, he spoke, low, his voice barely able to say the words any louder. "And what?"
But the singer didn't speak. He didn't give Kendall any answers, didn't tell him anything, didn't voice his thoughts. Instead, James just dropped his hand, staring at the blond with hard, darkened eyes. His body tensed up, breathing harsh, jaw clenched, and it looked like he was fighting himself.
Only he lost.
That same wild, dark look in his eyes, the singer took the three long steps necessary to close the gap between himself and Kendall. The blond didn't even think to move, didn't want to, not that he had any time. Because it seemed like it only took about half a second before James was holding the blond's face in his hands and smashing their lips together.
The teenager's eyes widened in shock, his own body tensing up, before the surprise washed over him and he realized exactly what the hell was going on. James Diamond. Was kissing him.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It took only about two seconds for the shock to wear off, Kendall's hands wrapping around James' wrists—well, as much as they could with a bandana around the left one—and his lips moving against the other male's. And holy shit was it the greatest kiss ever. He felt chills run down his spine, felt his skin heat up once again, felt all the blood rushing through his head, thoughts leaving, until all he could do was feel.
James' hands moved slightly, his fingers gripping onto Kendall's beanie, pulling his head closer to the singer's, tilting his own skull to kiss him deeper. He pressed his body into the slightly shorter male's, backing him over to the wall next to the door, pushing the blond against it with his muscular frame. And god did they fit together perfectly, especially when the singer moved his hands to the teen's hips, pulling them against his, their pelvises grinding together in a delicious sort of friction.
The brunet's tongue snaked out and the blond didn't hesitate to part his lips and let him inside, greeting the muscle with his own. James' tongue rolled around Kendall's, pressing, insisting on getting inside his mouth before exploring every nook, every crevice of it. He managed to find places that the teen had no idea existed, had no idea would affect him that way. So the moan that Kendall let out was not his fault.
He could feel James smile against his lips, practically feel how cocky he was acting, knowing he caused that noise to come out the younger male. So, as revenge—plus he really just wanted to hear the other male make the same sound—he sucked on the tongue in his mouth, flicking his own muscle on it, giving a small taste of what he could do with other parts of the singer's anatomy.
The groan James let out nearly made Kendall come right then and there. The way the singer tightened his grip on the teen's hips, or how he ground his burgeoning erection against the younger male's even harder, didn't help.
Their pelvises moved together in a perfect rhythm, like they'd been doing this for years, not minutes. Kendall found himself wishing their clothes were gone once more, wishing he could feel the singer's half hard cock against his own, wishing he could touch and be touched. His entire body was on fire and his dick was suffocating in his jeans and all he wanted was to get naked and get the other male inside him.
But he had to settle for touching what he could, his arms wrapping around the elder male's neck, fingers tangling in his brown hair, tugging slightly. The growl James let out was animalistic, hips bucking hard, practically shoving Kendall's against the wall. He pulled his mouth away from the younger male, both of them breathing hard, both of them still rocking their pelvises. The singer's eyes were practically black, lids only half open as he met the other male's eyes, his cheeks red, hair mussed. And Kendall had never seen anything hotter in his life.
"Fuck, Kendall," James breathed out, still panting, fingers digging into the smaller male's hips, most likely bruising him. He licked his lips, causing Kendall to groan, wanting that tongue back on his, on his skin, definitely on his cock.
The blond bucked his hips, tugging the other male's hair so his head tilted back. He moved his own head closer to the singer's neck, trailing open mouth kisses from his shoulder to his ear. "God, I hope you do."
It was like a switch was flipped inside of James. His entire body tensed up, breathing stopped, as his eyes shot open. He released his grip on the younger male's sides, unwrapping the blond's arms from around his neck as he stepped back, allowing Kendall to see the stoney expression on his face. It was as though an emotionless mask was pulled down over the singer's face, covering up the need, the desire, the lust that had been there before. The only hints that those things had actually been there were the red-tint still on his cheeks, the fact that his chest was still rising and falling at a harsher rate, the mussed up hair. Even the look in his eyes was different, the clear sexual want of before disappearing and being replaced by a mix of panic and confusion.
Kendall opened his mouth to say something, but never got a chance to speak. James had breathed out a curse before opening the door and storming out, leaving the blond alone and confused in the dressing room.
"What the fuck?" the teen whispered out to no one, leaning against the wall to hold himself up. He held his hands out in front of him, seeing them shaking, feeling how weak his knees were. He'd never been so affected by a kiss before, never been so turned on, never been so...so...god, he didn't even have the fucking words for it. He just knew that the flames that licked at him when the singer touched him got worse, like he was thrown into an active volcano, and he still felt overheated. He was hot, achy, horny, and most of all, very fucking confused.
He knew for a fact James had felt the same thing, had the same reaction. He could feel it throbbing against his own erection, feel it in the way the singer's fingers bruised his sides, hear it in the moans the pop star let out. So it wasn't like the brunet hadn't been enjoying himself.
Yet he still left.
And now? Now Kendall had no clue what to do. Was he supposed to stay and wait for the singer to return? Was he supposed to leave, the pop star being done with him?
That one seriously hurt his heart.
Rubbing the center of his chest with the heel of his hand, he spotted a mirror on the left wall of the room. He walked over, taking in his appearance. The beanie meant his hair wasn't messed up, but his cheeks were reddened, although not to the extent of James'. His pupils were still blown though, his yellow-green eyes now a dark emerald color. Yeah, definitely obvious that he was turned on. And that wasn't even including the hard-on he was sporting in his jeans.
Reaching down, he rearranged himself, hiding his erection to the best of his ability, before adjusting his tee around his waist. He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks before blowing it out harshly, still unable to wrap his mind around what happened. The hottest make out session of his life, and the guy had run out on him.
"Great job, Knight," he muttered to himself, shaking his head at his reflection.
Adjusting his beanie on his head, he turned and headed to the door, deciding it was best to just leave. The last thing he wanted—or his heart needed—was to sit around waiting for James to return, only to have the singer be shocked or aggravated or demanding to know why he was still hanging around. Plus he couldn't deal with the embarrassment of facing the guy who'd just had his tongue in his mouth. Especially not after how their make out session ended.
The hallway wasn't entirely empty, but thankfully the few people that were there were too wrapped up in whatever they needed to do so they didn't notice Kendall, didn't realize there was a strange teenager in a metal shirt wandering about, one without a pass. Shit, if security found him, his ass was fucking dead. Or at least thrown out. And wouldn't Katie just fucking love him forever for that?
Oh, shit, Katie. The thought of his younger sister had him stopping dead. He wondered if she was okay, where she was at, what was going on with her. Wondered how he was gonna explain what the hell just happened and why she was no longer meeting him and James backstage as originally planned.
Ohhh, things just kept getting fucking better, didn't they?
He breathed in deep, surprised that his lungs were even able to expand considering how tight his chest felt. He really needed to get a grip on himself, really needed to recover and get the fuck over this shit before his sister grew suspicious—well, more suspicious, considering her questions earlier—but most of all, he needed to get the fuck out the backstage area before security helped him do exactly that. Or worse. James found him.
Palm of his right hand rubbing the center of his chest, he made his way through the halls, remembering the path he'd taken with Logan only a few minutes before. Had it seriously been only a few minutes? Damn, it felt like an entire lifetime ago.
He walked as fast as he could without seeming like a freak, like some nutjob who'd just planted a bomb and was tryna get the fuck outta dodge before it went off. But walking too slow would also bring too much attention to him, so he had to try and find a balance between the two speeds, all the while trying not to show what he was feeling on his face and try to look normal as he walked with a still hard dick that was being pinched by his belt.
Yeah, that was always fucking fun.
The trip back to the main lobby probably took as long as the trip to the dressing room, but it felt different. Kendall wasn't sure if it felt longer or shorter or what. The blood still hadn't returned to his brain, despite the fact that it felt like the organ was swimming, drowning, sloshing around in something that was making shit really hard to think about or figure out. Being turned on did that to a guy, made them think with the wrong head, made them get all fucked up—in several different ways, usually—and caused a whole lotta problems.
Like trying to flee a backstage area without actually looking like you're fleeing and without being spotted by a guy you really didn't wanna see after the epic fail ending to their make out session.
Yeah. That.
He finally reached the lobby, looking left and seeing nothing. Turning his head to the right, he saw the VIP crowd milling about between the merch and the door that led to the main part of the arena. His eyes scanned for Katie, easily locating her since she was standing next to a seven-foot wall of muscle in a dark suit. Freight Train was like one of those giant neon signs located on the Vegas Strip, practically screaming "Hey, here's your sister, jackass! Ya know, the one you promised to watch over the entire night, the one you promised to protect no matter what, the one who you left alone with a stranger so you could try and hook up with a rock star? Yeah, that sister!"
So, yeah, he could add "guilt" to the list of emotions he was currently trying to balance. Too bad he gave up on that whole juggling phase when he was a six. Only lasted a week, could've come in handy at that moment.
Whatever. He was gonna have enough shit to regret the next day, if he didn't regret it by the end of the night. Instead, he focused on the present moment, on making his way down the lobby, hands pulling his pants up at the sides, hiding a wince as the movement caused the fabric to rub against his still hard cock.
Freight Train and Katie were walking over. Well, the bodyguard was. The young girl was running over, waving her hand, bag hanging from her elbow. She yelled out her older brother's name, huge smile on her face, loosely curled hair blowing back behind her as she neared him, Converses slapping against the hard floor. But as she got closer, she started slowing, that grin falling. Clearly the smirk Kendall was faking wasn't as believable as he thought he was.
With another heavy sigh, he shoved his hands in his pockets, slowing to a stop in front of his younger sister. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out exactly what to say, how to explain why he was in the lobby instead of waiting for her in the dressing room as originally planned.
But, as always, Katie was quicker than he gave her credit for.
"We aren't hanging backstage, are we." It was more statement than question, as she folded her arms over her chest, hip sticking out. So much 'tude for such a little person.
"Nope."
She nodded, lips pursed, eyes not looking at her brother. After a long moment, she finally made a move. Punching him in the arm.
"Katie!" He covered the place she'd hit with his hand. She had a helluva punch for a small thing. "What the hell?!"
"You're a moron," she stated, glaring at him through hard dark eyes.
He rolled his own green orbs, not wanting to get into it with her. Not here, and especially not now.
"And you're an even bigger moron if you think I'm one, too."
Oh, yay, more confusion! 'Cause he clearly hadn't felt that enough in the past ten minutes. "What are you talking about, Katie?"
"All that stuff I said earlier about those weird looks and him knowing your name. Plus James wanted to see you again, plus that girl talking about 'That St Paul Guy'-" she put airquotes around the title "-who was brought onstage during James' last show here."
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, fuck. Katie knew. Katie fucking knew.
But he kept his poker face on, eyebrow cocked, making like he had no clue what his crazy little sister was talking about. "Yeah, no idea what you're getting at."
"What. Is going on. Between you and James?"
"Nothing," he said flatly, looking her right in the eyes. "Just like I said."
She threw her arms out to the side as she practically yelled the next words. "He knew your name!"
Kendall put his hands out towards her, knocking her arms down as he looked around, hoping she hadn't attracted any sort of attention with that sudden outburst. But the only difference he could see was that Freight Train was now gone. Which shouldn't be much of a surprise. He'd been asked to watch over Katie while her older brother had gone to talk to James. Only now the blond teen was back, so the bodyguard's temporary babysitting duty was over.
The elder Knight dropped his hands, letting out a sigh. He knew his younger sister well, knew she wasn't gonna let anything go until she got a reasonable explanation, one that was feasible, one that she could actually believe and he could actually sell.
So he thought up a good lie.
"Look," he started, eyes trained on her. "Carlos and I met James after the last show, okay? Carlos made me wait by the buses for the guy, doing that puppy dog face thing that no one can say 'no' to without feeling like the worst person on the entire fu-reaking planet.."
Katie nodded, knowing exactly what face her older brother was referring to, as she folded her arms over her chest once more.
"And I didn't tell you," he continued his lie, "because I knew you'd get all pissed at not meeting him before with us. You were already throwing a 'tude cause you couldn't even go to the show."
More nodding, the younger Knight sibling clearly buying the bullshit the elder was selling. Thank fuck. Now that that was over, they could get on with the rest of their evening, enjoy the concert—if that was possible for him anymore—then go home so he could fully mope and sink into the depressive black hole he was fighting to keep himself out of.
"Can we go find our seats now?" he questioned, both eyebrows raised in expectation.
"Not until you tell me why he wanted to see you."
God. Fucking. Dammit.
He should've known that shit wouldn't be that easy, not when Katie Knight was involved. No, she had to nose her way into shit that wasn't any of her business, want to know every last detail, especially when it had nothing to do with her in any way. And the fact that it involved an internationally known pop star whom she just happened to have a crush on just made her all the more curious and all the more annoying.
"He wanted to give me my wallet back."
'Wow. Really, Knight?'
'Oh, shut up, no one asked you!'
"Your wallet?" she questioned, eyebrow quirked.
"Yeah."
"The one that is attached to your jeans with a chain?" she pointed to said chain as she spoke.
Fuck.
"Chain got loose. It happens."
"Really, cause I do-"
"Katie!" He interrupted, fed up with the interrogation, fed up with having to lie, fed up with James fucking Diamond and his fucking mind games and his fucking perfect kiss that still had Kendall reeling.
Seriously, he was fucked up over a kiss? Jesus Christ, next thing you know, he'd be wanting to curl up in a ball, sobbing while eating carton upon carton of Ben and Jerry's. No fucking way. He'd done enough chick-type bullshit lately. He was at least getting wasted like an actual man would.
Smearing a hand over his face, he let out a harsh sigh, trying to get his emotions back in control. The situation wasn't his sister's fault and he knew that, so snapping at her was unnecessary and grounds for him to get bitched at by his mom for being a dick. He needed to chill the fuck out and start treating her better.
"You're a good brother like that."
Okay, it was bad enough having his own inner-monologue that constantly argued and disagreed with his every thought. He didn't need fucking Diamond's voice in there, too.
"Sorry," the blond apologized to his sister, dropping his hand and shoving both in the pockets of his jeans. "Can we just drop the twenty questions and go find our seats?"
"One condition," she stated, small smirk playing on her lips, Kendall wondering why he hadn't seen that coming. "You buy me a soft pretzel and a soda first."
A small tugging was felt pulling at the side of his own lips, a slight feeling of amusement taking over. "Whatever you want, baby sister."
"Darn straight, big brother."
She turned, Kendall moving to her left, hand on her shoulders as they headed to one of the food stands. And as they stood in line waiting, he shoved everything to do with James Diamond the person—since he was gonna have to deal with the singer in a couple hours—to the back of his mind, focusing solely on his earlier plan of just enjoying a good concert with his younger sister, not letting anything negative get him down.