A/N: Almost named this chapter "My Characters Shouldn't Be Left Alone in Dressing Rooms, Like, Ever", but clearly couldn't do that.
Anyway, this is the part where I tell you about how I had other shit planned for this, but these assholes took over and I just write whatever it is they do, which is not what I want them to do... cause they're assholes... Whatever. This chapter is still great. AndIpromisetheywillhavesexso onnotmyfault
sorry.
Blahblah iPhone, blahblah Tumblr, blahblah whateverelse. I dunno. Just know that whatever is referenced in here is used with love (I'm pretty sure) and please don't sue. I'm broke.
The rest of the show went amazing, James flawless on stage, Kendall enjoying every second of it. When it was over, the singer exchanged high fives and "great job"s with his band backstage, guzzling water and toweling the sweat off his face. The blond stood to the side, watching the scene unfolding before him, smile on his face as he took in the brunet. James was practically beaming, huge grin on his face, exuding pure joy at a job well done, his love of music shining through. It was a look the pop star wore well, one that suited him perfectly, one that belonged on his unmarred features.
And the more the younger male looked at the elder, the more he grew to realize the singer's post-concert appearance was pretty much identical to his post-orgasm look: same messy hair, same sheen of sweat, same reddened cheeks. He was even smiling and panting the same way. And it made sense, considering the amount of energy he put into the show, the adrenaline and the rush caused by performing, not to mention dance moves that consisted of him shaking his hips and humping the air.
Kendall shifted in his spot, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, feeling slightly outta place and more than a little turned on. James exuded sex just by breathing, but watching him onstage, rolling his pelvis, thrusting, moving sensually-plus his ass in those jeans, holy shit!-just added to the arousing effect he had on the teen. Combined with the week worth of phone sex, the fooling around they'd done that day, and the knowledge that they were getting closer to being left alone for several uninterrupted hours in the hotel suite and the teen felt like he'd fucking explode if he didn't get something inside him soon. Other than the singer's fingers, of course.
His green eyes automatically went to the pop star's digits, seeing them wrapped around a water bottle as he drank deeply. The blond's hole twitched at the memory of those fingers sliding in and out, rubbing against his walls, getting him off that way. He imagined those same fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking, getting him off while the brunet pounded into his ass.
Okay, that mental scene needed to stop playing before his boxers got any messier. His dick was already wet and aching and probably more than a little pissed that it wasn't getting any attention at that exact moment.
But, of course, instead of finding a distraction, his eyes came across the elder male licking his lips, totally not fucking helping. The younger had to bite his bottom lip in order to stop any inappropriate noises from slipping out, tilting his head down to hide any facial signs of arousal. He needed to calm the fuck down, needed his body to relax, needed to think unsexy thoughts in order to wipe away the obvious sexual desire he was ninety-nine percent sure he was showing.
A hot hand pressed between his shoulder blades, one he was beginning to recognize the feel of. Heated blood raced through his veins, skin tingling more, and all he could think about was that hand drifting down, down, down...
"You ready to go?"
'Fuck yes, get me naked please,' was what he thought. What he actually did was nod, lifting his head to meet the singer's eyes, seeing how dark they'd become, lids heavy. And considering the place was all lit up, a lack of light was clearly not the cause of the orbs' color change.
Kendall's tongue darted out on its own, licking his lips, his bottom one stinging from where he bit down too hard moments before.
James inhaled sharply, a move that went unnoticed by everyone else, other band and crew members either having walked off or in conversations of their own. Which, thank fuck, 'cause there was pretty much no way to explain the singer's reaction or the tenseness in his body, the way he looked like a coiled snake ready to spring, to snatch up his prey and consume it. He exhaled slowly through parted lips, hands clenched into fists at his sides, and the teen had a feeling that if it weren't for all the other people around them or the fact that they were currently in a semi-public place where anyone could happen upon them, then he'd be pinned up against a wall with a tongue in his mouth that wasn't his own.
Yeah, they needed to be alone, like, now.
Apparently the brunet was thinking along those same lines, letting out a rushed "okay, let's go, dressing room", his voice a little rough, a sexy huskiness to it that could be interpreted as either a result of singing for over an hour or arousal. The blond would've put money on the latter.
With another nod, Kendall followed the other male down the hall, into the dressing room, closing the door behind himself. James had barely even turned around before the teen had a hold of his face, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss, one that was immediately returned. The younger took control, pushing the elder back against the wall, slamming their hips together. Both males let out groans at the feel of the other's erection, pelvises grinding, the rough friction of denim on denim causing them both to breathe heavily.
It soon got to be too much, lips pulling apart but hard cocks still rubbing together. The blond's hands slipped to the brunet's shoulders, gripping hard onto the sweaty black v-neck as they locked eyes. James lifted his hand, two fingers held straight by Kendall's mouth. The teen took the hint and sucked both of them into his mouth, hand around the larger male's wrist, recreating his earlier ministrations on the singer's cock. The elder male briefly bit his lip before his jaw went slack, mind obviously remembering what the younger wanted him to. He wrapped his left arm around the smaller male's torso, gripping hard onto his side, pulling him closer, grinding harder as his hips pushed away from the wall.
"Wanna fuck you so bad," he breathed out harshly, pupils blown wide under half-lowered lids.
Kendall pulled the fingers from his mouth, responding with a "please do" before kissing the other male hard once more.
Their tongues battled, rubbing, massaging, as James slipped his hand into the back of the smaller male's boxers, rubbing his hole before sliding a spit-covered finger in. Kendall let out a small gasp of surprise at the invasion, one that was swallowed by the elder's mouth. He relaxed, feeling the finger sliding in and out of him. His hole was still slightly stretched from earlier, so it wasn't long before a second finger was added, its entry rough due to a proper lubrication.
He pulled away from the singer's lips, letting out another small gasp, eyes blown wide, jaw hanging loose. Somehow miraculously managing to unclench his fingers from around the singer's tee, he moved his hands to the other male's waist, under the v-neck, smoothing up over ridged abs and pausing over hard nipples. Which he promptly pinched. Because what the fuck was the point of fooling around with someone who had sensitive nipples if you couldn't exploit that weakness?
James' own dark eyes went wide as he groaned, hips bucking extra hard. Without a word, he pulled his fingers out, sliding his hand out the teen's boxers, before pushing him over to the couch. Shoving gently, he forced Kendall to lay along the length of it, promptly sitting on top of the smaller male, straddling his hips, hard cocks perfectly aligned. Reaching behind his head, he grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, drawing it up and off, and throwing it carelessly to the side before leaning down and attaching his lips to Kendall's.
The blond kissed back, tongues rubbing against one another, his hands reaching up to tangle in short brown locks. He could feel the other male's hands moving up and down his torso, feel the singer's hips expertly rolling over his, years of dance making the motion fluid, easy. The teen moved his own pelvis up and down, matching grind for grind, the sweat from the pop star's torso making his shirt wet. Really, there were just too many clothes and not enough nudity for his liking.
And far too many people, considering how one just knocked on the door.
James froze, body tense, actions stopping, lips stilling, hands freezing as they gripped Kendall's sides. He was shutting down again, closing off, ending things before they went too far.
Deja vu all over again.
Fucking hell.
The singer sat up, hands on his own thighs, the teen letting his own fingers untangle from brown locks before dropping by his sides. He listened to the male on top of him let out a "yeah?", Freight Train's muffled response telling then they were leaving in ten before his heavy footsteps walked away.
Kendall let out a groan, head slamming back against a pillow, eyes closed in frustration as his fists covered them. "You are gonna fuck me at some point tonight, right?" he questioned, body slightly trembling, too wound up. "'Cause I swear if you don't, I will actually fuckin' kill someone."
A small chuckle was heard, James breathing out a laugh. "Make sure you don't drop the soap when you're in jail."
The teen dropped his fists back down to his sides, glaring up at the elder male. Not. Fucking. Funny. "I might drop it on purpose," he said, solely for spite, 'cause he was mature like that. "At least then I'd get laid."
It was meant to be a sarcastic comment on the lack of actual physical sex they'd participated in so far, but instead was taken in the absolute wrong way. The singer glared down, eyes hard, jaw tense, fists clenched on his lap. He was jealous again, meaning the blond had hit some sorta possessive nerve. And the only reason he'd be so possessive would be because he cared about the smaller male and wanted to keep him to himself.
Unless he really was being used for nothing but sex and the brunet didn't want anyone touching his property and wearing it out or damaging it.
Face still hard and with an angry look in his eyes, the elder male spoke firmly, letting the younger know he wasn't fucking around. "The only person who'll be fucking-or getting fucked by-you is me."
The words sent a shiver down Kendall's spine, dick twitching and leaking, nearly coming right then and there. Sitting up, he got right in the other male's face, hands on bare hips, thumbs on the V that led to that piece of anatomy he was dying to have inside him. "Then fuck me already," he ordered, leaning forward to kiss the singer.
Only to have James tilt back before standing up.
The fuck?
The blond cocked an eyebrow as he turned his head to the right to watch the other male, seeing him walk to the opposite side of the room, hips sauntering, perfect ass framed in impossibly white jeans. His hand was in his hair, fixing it, body over by the catering table on the other end of the wall from the door. And when he finally turned around, his face was back to being that goddamn emotionless mask. The only evidence that anything had happened were his still red cheeks, kiss bruised lips, and the obvious bulge in his pants.
Kendall wondered if the singer was part robot or some shit, the way he was able to automatically shut off emotions so fast and easily.
Then he realized that he'd been stuck watching too many shitty sci-fi b-movies with Carlos and that the Latino clearly needed an ass kicking.
With a sigh, he shifted his left leg so his foot was flat on the couch, knee bent, elbow resting on it. He moved his hands on top of his head, wanting to shove his fingers in his hair, but instead getting the digits stuck under the beanie he forgot he was wearing. Once again, he'd come so close to being with the other male in the way he'd wanted to be for months, only to be stopped again.
God. Fucking. Dammit.
"I think you should leave."
Once again, the fuck?
Confusion was back on his face, this time joined by hurt, wondering where the hell that had come from. Rejection was an icy knife to the heart, accompanied by painful daggers of memories stabbing at his brain. He was unwanted, unloved, unneeded. No one actually cared about him. No one wanted his around. No one gave a shit that he existed.
Fingers tangled in his hair, he pulled on the strands, biting his bottom lips as he straight down at his lap, at the erection he was slowly losing. Heartbreak and dismissal were a definite boner killer.
"I gotta pack up," James continued, resting his ass on the edge of the table. "And it'd be easier to focus and make sure I don't forget anything if you aren't here distracting me."
Hand sliding out his beanie, Kendall turned his head to the other male, brow furrowed in confusion. "I distract you?"
The singer let out a snort, folding his arms over his chest and nodding. "Yeah. It's like you and my dick are teaming up to take me down."
"I don't see anything wrong with you going down."
"See!" the brunet practically yelled, standing up, gesturing to the blond with an open hand. "That shit's not helping!"
The teen turned in his seat, feet on the floor, focused on the elder male. "Fine, then don't go down on me! Whatever."
He refolded his arms before speaking. "But I want to go down on you."
The confusion was back for the five millionth time that day and fuck knew he was gonna end up in a Nut Hut at the end of all this. "Then what the fuck is the problem?!" He might've yelled that, but whatever, it was necessary.
"I wanna go down on you right now, but I don't have time!"
Well, that kinda changed shit.
Kendall sat there with his eyebrows raised, taken aback, not entirely sure what to say to that, other than "oh". And James didn't seem like he knew how to react either, simply nodding as he finger-combed his hair.
"Right, um," the blond started, having no clue what the fuck he was about to say, if he was even gonna say anything. Slapping his hands on his thighs, he stood up, hiking up his jeans and adjusting his tee. "Guess I'll go then," he stated as he pointed to the door before walking over to it.
He stopped a couple feet away, the singer having called his name. Turning his head, he saw the other male stepping over slowly, reaching out and taking hold of the teen's hand, almost seeming reluctant as he looked down at their entwined fingers. The brunet still didn't raise his eyes as he bumped and rubbed his nose against the blond's, kissing him quickly but sweetly before touching their foreheads.
It was pretty damn puzzling to be told to leave one minute, then treated sweetly the next. But the masochistic side of him was okay with the confusion and the rejection and the hurt if it meant he had moments where he was cherished and treated like he was something valuable and important to the singer.
"I'll see you in a few, okay?" James whispered, Kendall nodding against him. A kiss to the nose and a slap to the ass-both of which were becoming habit-and the younger male left the room, small smile on his face.
Until he ran into Logan a few yards down the hallway.
The assistant appeared a li'l mentally lost, looking behind the teen, then up at his face. "Where's James?"
"Packing," the blond answered, pointing behind himself with his thumb. "I'm a distraction."
The brunet snorted, the "no shit" going unsaid. "All right," he replied, raising his eyebrows for a brief second, as though it would wipe away whatever he'd been thinking. "Uh, I guess you can go wait in the limo if you want and I'll help James."
Kendall nodded, thinking time alone in the car would help him clear his head and straighten shit out while he had the chance, before sex came into play and complicated shit once again. He gave Logan a "cool" and a small wave before walking around him and heading to the bus lot.
Fans were lined up around the security rails like before, all of them cheering when the doors opened, only to get quiet when they saw who it was. Whatever. Kendall didn't care. He wasn't there for the fame or fandom approval or to make anyone else happy. He was there for James.
But the internet exists, and the blond wasn't completely anonymous, a couple fans calling his name. He briefly considered ignoring them, to just pretend he didn't hear them or that he wasn't Kendall, to keep on his way and just get in the car. Until he remembered that bitch from school and the minor shit storm she'd created after he'd snubbed her. And as much as he didn't give a shit about his own rep, he didn't wanna fuck James' up, especially when part of the fandom was already pissed at him for "lying".
Mind made up, he turned his head to the girls who'd called for his attention, giving a small smile and a wave as he walked on.
"Why aren't you in Minnesota?!" one yelled, leaning over the rail as he passed.
He gave a shrug, like it wasn't that big a deal, remembering the cover story Logan had given the crew. "Visiting a friend."
The girl who'd questioned him turned to a friend, the two of them discussing something between themselves, as the third member of their group kept looking at him, giving a long, slow nod, skepticism all over her face. Oh fucking well. He didn't care if she believed him or not. Both he and James had said the same thing to the fans, meaning people were more likely to think it was the truth, which was exactly what the two males wanted.
That thought in mind, Kendall gave another wave and a "see ya, ladies", only to be asked to wait.
'Fuck me, what now?' he mentally complained, hiding the annoyance from his face as he stopped walking. "Yeah?"
"Can we get a pic with you?" the original girl questioned, one whose blonde hair was clearly from a bottle, judging from the dark roots.
He raised an eyebrow, face full of "are you serious?" He wasn't anyone famous or special, just some dude from Bumfuck, Minnesota. Yet these chicks were acting like he was actually someone important, someone worth of special attention, someone to actually brag about having met with photographic evidence backing up your story.
This shit was gonna end up all over Tumblr, he just knew it.
Folding his arms over his chest, he focused on the trio-two blondes and a redhead-confusion and curiosity still the visible emotions on his features. "Why?"
"'Cause you're awesome," Leader Blonde stated, like it was a "duh" thing.
"You don't even know me."
"No, but James does," she pointed out and he bit his tongue before he told her that was bullshit, that they barely knew each other despite all the phone calls and having spent most of the day together. "And in case you haven't noticed," she continued. "He doesn't really seem to have a lotta friends, so clearly you must be someone way cool if he hangs out with you."
'That, or he really wants to get laid,' his mind replied, always thinking positively and seeing the bright side of shit.
"So, can we get a picture?" Blondie Number Two asked, hands clasped together under her chin, pout on her face. Like it would actually make a difference.
Hand working the back of his neck, he thought about that bitch from his school again, figuring that just 'cause these girls seemed nice and complimentary didn't meant they wouldn't pull the same shit. And since he was still worried about James' rep more than his own, he figured he could suffer a minute or two of being social and deal with these chicks. Plus he still had some time to kill while he waited for everyone else, so why the fuck not?
He dropped his hand and walked over, seeing Leader Blonde turn to some brunette not in her group and talk to her, camera in hand. Arrangements made and cam handed over, Kendall reached he trio and waited as they positioned themselves before leaning over the guard rail. He put on a small smile, watched the flash pop, then moved to leave, only to be asked if the girls could get individual shots with him. Which he gave them. For James' rep only.
When it was over, when he was seeing green and purple spots every time he blinked, he stepped away, giving yet another wave, hoping like hell he'd be able to finally get in the limo.
But, of fucking course, no such luck.
"Is James a good kisser?"
His eyebrows shot up at the redhead's question, at the randomness, at the invasiveness, at the ballsiness. It had come outta pretty much nowhere, especially after he'd told them he was visiting a friend. So for this chick—who he didn't even know the name of—to imply they were more than that and ask something that wasn't any of her business—regardless of any form of relationship between the two males—was brave, risky, and kinda fucking rude.
He didn't bother hiding the shock from his face, 'cause really, it couldn't be helped. Beside, it helped the cover story. Wouldn't anyone be surprised and a li'l freaked out if some stranger randomly asked what kinda kisser your friend was? Your friend of the same gender. Your friend that the world believed was straight.
But the biggest reason of all was that focusing on the surprise was better than actually thinking about the answer. Because honestly? "Yes" wasn't an accurate enough response. Kissing James was like inhaling fire. It would cause his entire body to heat up, flames licking at his skin, racing through his veins. His blood was red hot lava beneath the surface, bubbling, waiting for the inevitable eruption. His mind would be singed, burnt to a crisp, incapable of any sort of thought. It was scary, terrifying, dangerous, even stupid, but he couldn't stop. Not that he wanted to stop, which was probably the stupidest part of all.
But he clearly couldn't say any of that shit, didn't wanna do that either. The only option was to completely ignore the memories of the singer's lips on his and the reactions it caused in his body—even at that moment just remembering it—and let out a short humorless laugh, acting like he had no clue what this crazy chick was talking about.
"Dude," he started, voice full of disbelief at what she asked. "We're friends. And you know James isn't gay, right?" He raised an eyebrow as he asked that, wording it just right, the same way the pop star had during the Q&A, so that neither of them was a liar. Pretty fucking clever really.
The trio was silent for a long moment, seeming to be letting the info sink in. Until Leader Blond spoke for the group again.
"So, is that 'no' orrr-" She trailed off, matching looks of expectation on all three faces.
Another small laugh left Kendall as he continued his pseudo-charade, unable to believe they'd even ask that. "That's a 'I have no idea'." It was a lie, but if there was anything he'd learned over the past couple years it was the fact that when it comes to emotions and matters of the heart, you should never be honest. It only makes you vulnerable, open, exposed, making it easier for others to fuck you over and hurt you even more.
Just sucked that it took so many blows to his emotional gut before he figured that out and learned to protect himself better.
Determined to finally fully be done with these chicks and their fucking nosiness, Kendall backed away, waving and telling them he had to go. He turned around so they'd take the hint that the convo was definitely over, his eyes focused solely on the limo, no one else calling for his attention as he headed towards it.
He climbed into the back of the empty vehicle, shutting the door behind himself, sliding along to the seat he'd used all day. Only to decide that was a fucking mistake. That redhead's inquiry over James' make out talents played in his mind once more, along with the memory of kissing him on the way to the radio station while in that exact seat. And, of course, the mental images of other times he'd played tonsil hockey with the singer followed, bringing with them an all too perfect recall of every detail: the way James' lips moved, the pressure of his tongue, the taste of his mouth, the feel and position of his hands. The brunet didn't kiss with just his mouth; it was a full body experience, hands roaming, hips rolling, cocks rubbing.
Kendall let out a groan as his head lolled back against the seat, biting his lower lip, mind replaying their latest make out session on the couch in the dressing room. He'd been so close to coming—again—his unreleased orgasm a heavy ache in his balls and he was dying to have the elder male just take him right then and there.
His arousal came back to life, his erection pissed to have been softened and forgotten about, an angry hurt inside jeans that now felt too tight. He had a feeling he was gonna end up literally pouncing on the singer as soon as he got in the limo and the teen wouldn't give a shit who was around or who saw, only caring about getting them both naked and the other male inside him. Or at least a hand in his pants so he could finally come.
The small part of his brain that knew that was a bad idea was still miraculously working. Deciding distance was the only answer, he moved to the other seat, the one stretched along the side of the limo, sliding down until he was closer to the driver's cab than the door.
Which gave him the ability to actually see the seat he was in while kissing James. Well, if he turned his head and looked at it.
Which he did.
Although it was more like "staring" than "looking", but whatever, no need to be technical.
There was definitely a need for a distraction though, Kendall figuring that focusing on previous make out sessions with James weren't helping him not want to jump the other male as soon as he set eyes on him. He slid his iPhone out of his pocket, a li'l surprised his mom hadn't tried to contact him yet. Then again, it was a Friday, so chances were she probably thought he'd been at school, then work, and was now at a party somewhere. Basically a typical end-of-the-week type routine for him, which worked as a great alibi. The rest of the weekend however...
Fuck it. He'd deal with that later. Unlocking his phone, he opened his texts, sending one to Camille and letting her know it was okay if she wanted to hang the next day. A couple messages back and forth and they'd arranged to meet at some coffee shop, she supplying the name and number of a cab company should he need one. Probably a handy thing to have, since he more than likely wouldn't be able to use the rental car and he sure as fuck couldn't—or wouldn't even wanna—use the limo.
He sent her a "thanks" as the limo door opened, Logan entering, only to stop when he saw Kendall. The brunet's brows raised as his eyes widened, seeming surprised at the blond's choice in seat, only to get over it pretty quickly. With a shrug, he moved to the leather bench Kendall was on, plopping himself down with a sigh, before turning to the teen.
"Any particular reason why you're sitting there?"
"Yup," the younger male popped his 'P' as he slid his iPhone back in his pocket.
"You gonna tell me why?"
He shrugged. "Depends on whether or not you ask."
Logan's face with the same expression of non-amusement Kendall's mom wore when he pulled the same shit at home, which seemed fitting considering James' nickname for his best friend. The assistant untwisted his lips, but kept the serious, narrowed glare. "Why are you sitting there?"
The blond turned to the brunet, shrugging and shaking his head, pretending like nothing was up and it wasn't a big deal. "You told me to cool it with James so-" He left the sentence unfinished, thinking the other male could figure out the rest himself.
Which he clearly did, considering how his face shifted to a mix of "makes sense" and "wow, I'm impressed by your logic" as he nodded. The younger male tried not to be offended by the elder underestimating his ability to actually think shit through. Again.
A shuffling sounded out, Kendall turning his attention to it, watching James get in the limo, watching the confusion form on his face as their eyes met. Fucking hell, switching seats was not that big a deal and everyone seriously needed to stop acting like he'd grown a dick on his head or turned purple and sprouted wings out his ass or some shit.
The singer didn't comment, didn't question, just turned to his assistant and said a simple "switch."
The shorter brunet turned to the taller, clearly ready to argue, knowing the blond had done the right thing, the safe thing by sitting in a different spot and putting distance between himself and the pop star. "James, I don't think tha-"
"Logan!" the elder male practically yelled inside the vehicle, face hard as he stared pointedly at his best friend, jaw clenched. "No" apparently wasn't an option at that moment in time.
The aforementioned male sighed, defeated, moving over to the other seat without a fight. Kendall started wondering if James had meant what he said about no one really doing what he asked.
But he didn't have time to fully think that over. The singer had slid over right next to him—which was pretty fucking unnecessary, considering how much room was on that bench—Freight Train getting in the limo and seating himself next to Logan. A second or two later, the engine started up and the vehicle was in motion.
Leaving the bus lot.
To head to the hotel.
Where James and Kendall would finally get some much needed and anticipated alone time.
Meaning fucking. Lots and lots of fucking.
Finally.
And now that that realization was in his head, it was all he could think about, all he could focus on. And having the singer so close was only making shit worse. He could feel the other male's body heat seeping through his clothes, smell the musky scent emanating from him—which how anyone can smell that fucking good after sweating for an hour and a half was beyond him—both those things adding to his arousal.
The hand on his thigh wasn't helping either.
James was acting like nothing unusual was happening, head turned towards Logan, conversating. Kendall tried to concentrate on their discussion, only catching small pieces about gym and working out, mind unable to focus on anything but the hand slowly moving up his leg.
It didn't weigh much, but it felt heavy, the palm hot, burning. His lungs were barely working, aching as he forced himself to breathe normally, to not pant, to not act like anything was going on. His heart was pounding, racing in anticipation of what the other male was gonna do, if he was even gonna do it. The singer was bluffing, had to be. No way would he actually fool around—or even try to—with other people in the back of the limo with him.
Then again, it wouldn't be the first time the blond was wrong about something.
The hand cupping his crotch also wouldn't be the last thing he'd be mistaken about either, he was sure.
Kendall's eyes went wide and he clenched his teeth to hold back a moan at the contact. His dick twitched inside its cotton confines, thankful as fuck it was finally getting some attention, demanding more. He fought the urge to slide down in the seat, to slump more and get a greater amount of friction, instead forcing himself to focus on making it all stop. Wrapping a hand around the other male's wrist, he dug his fingers in hard, pissed there was a bandana there, hopeful the singer would still feel it and take the hint.
James turned his head forward, smirking, glancing out the younger male out the corner of his eye, wordlessly saying he understood. The way he squeezed the teen's cock said he didn't give a shit and was gonna do what he wanted anyway.
The blond buried his face in the brunet's shoulder, using it to muffle a whimper, trembling slightly despite his best efforts not to. "You're a dick," he whispered, a grit to his words, a harsh inhale burning his throat.
The singer just chuckled, pressing down on the other male's cock, slightly turning his head before speaking. "You love my dick," he commented lowly, smugly, stating it like a fact he knew as well as the sky's color or that water is wet. "You wanna suck on it again, have it tapping the back of your throat. You want it rubbing against yours, both of us naked and sweating, pre-come dripping off our cocks. You want mine inside you, filling you up, stretching you beyond what you thought you were capable of, pounding into you before I make you come, moaning my name the whole time."
Oh. Shit.
The blond trembled more, panting, body turning towards the other male's. He stopped fighting it, stopped trying to make the brunet quit, stopped trying to remember why this was a bad idea. Instead, he decided to just go along with it, to enjoy the sensations, to give in completely. Not that he had much of a choice really. The pop star's scent was making his head spin, rendering him incapable of thought. His words reminded the teen of just a few days prior where similar phrases were being spoken down a phone line, his hand wrapped around his cock and his fingers in his ass. Only now there was no static altering the brunet's voice. It was pure James, better than phone sex.
But the result was definitely gonna be the same, especially if the elder kept squeezing and rubbing his dick that way.
The singer smirked, lips pressed to the teen's forehead as he spoke in a low volume. "C'mon, Kendall," he urged, hand still working the other male through his jeans. "Lemme hear you moan out my name."
The blond inhaled a gasp at one particularly hard squeeze, choking out an exhale. "Fuck you," he replied, moving his hand so he was grasping the larger male's forearm, fingers digging in.
"Maybe next time. Tonight I'm fuckin' you."
Kendall let out a groan that was bordering on hysterical, trying like hell to keep quiet, trying to remind himself that he and James still weren't fully alone. But his body didn't seem to care, hips slightly moving, trying to get more contact, more friction. His eyes were closed, jaw dropped, lips parted as he panted, face buried in the larger male's shoulder. His cock was throbbing, balls tight, orgasm so close once more.
Only to be interrupted by Logan's loud, obnoxious throat clearing.
Kendall was really starting to dislike that motherfucker.
James froze, motions stopping, body tensing, just like before when their kiss was broken up. The blond let out a small whimper, about to move the brunet's arm for him, only for his brain to start somewhat working and realization to set in.
The singer turned his head to his friend, but kept his hand where it was, his large frame blocking anyone from seeing exactly what was going on. Words were exchanged, syllables the teen couldn't quite figure out. His mind was still fuzzy, still not fully operating, and it took him a long moment to realize that limo had stopped and that Freight Train was no longer in it.
Meaning they were at the hotel.
Meaning he was one step closer to getting laid.
His dick throbbed and James squeezed it, Kendall gasping then biting his lip to stop himself from letting out the moan threatening to break loose. The elder male was clearly a douchebag.
The taller male removed his hand as Logan turned away to exit, then slid down the bench to the one along the back. The younger watched him get out the car, taking a steadying breath—or three—before following.
He stepped out onto the sidewalk, the limo having pulled up outside the entrance of the hotel. His heart was pounding, stomach clenching and flipping, palms sweating—although he wasn't sure if that was nerves or where he'd been gripping onto James' arm—and he felt pretty much exactly the same way as he did when waiting in line for the meet 'n' greet a couple weeks back.
Fuck, had it only been a couple weeks? It felt like a fucking lifetime had passed. Hell, it didn't even seem like his first James Diamond concert was only about three months ago.
But it was. Funny how shit worked. Thirteen or so weeks ago, he was calling the singer a fairy with shallow lyrics and shit music, completely dreading the show and hating how he'd been guilted into going by Carlo's well-practiced puppy dog face. Then with one look from the pop star, everything changed. And now he was standing outside a hotel waiting to have sex with the guy, this huge moment that was gonna change their lives.
Because that's what fucking did: change shit. He already had problems seeing photos of the guy without thinking of how much better he looked up close and in person, couldn't hear his pre-recorded voice without thinking of how amazing it sounded saying the teen's name. Now Kendall was gonna see those pics and hear those words, knowing he'd seen the singer naked, had heard the sexual noises he made, had felt what it was like to actually be fucked by him and not some fantasy imagine post on Tumblr.
His life back home when this trip was over was never gonna be the same. And neither would he.
"Ready?"
Kendall lifted his head at James' voice, seeing those hazel eyes on him, expectation on his face as he tilted his head to the front entrance of the hotel. It was one word, referencing whether or not the teen was prepared to go inside the building, if he had gotten everything he needed. But to the blond, it was much more than that. He felt as though he'd been asked if he was ready to change his whole life, to make it so nothing would ever be like it was before. It wasn't his first time having sex—although he kinda wished it was, considering what went down with the fuckhead he'd given his v-card to—but it might as well have been, given how he felt as though everything in his world was about to be altered drastically, irrevocably.
Taking a deep breath, he put a smile on his face, nodding. "Yeah. I'm ready."