A/N: My chest hurts. It might be this chapter. Or the huge piece of cake I had earlier, but I refuse to believe cake would do me wrong that way...
Anyway um... Sorry.
It needs to be said. Sorry.
Revolver magazine is property of whoever publishes it or whatever, I dunno. Don't sue! Use the name with love. Song credit: "Clarity" by Zedd f./ Foxes (giggles). TOLD YA IT'D HAPPEN, LINDA!
Shout-out to Maria for her gorgeous fanart! Beautiful! Love it!
Believe that's it. Oh, and god, sorry for the length. This was supposed to be two chapters, but what I had planned for the second was too short so it had to be put together and this monster happened. Sorry. Just sorry for everything. Except for the part where I'm not sorry at all. Cough.
Enjoy!
Kendall wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to fully wake up. Sure, being up and alert meant he could see James, see those hazel-green eyes he loved looking into, see those soft lips forming a smile at the sight of the blond, see the guy he was falling for even more with each passing moment. Hard to not wanna open his eyes and look at the other male and his perfect features.
But waking up meant the day beginning, meant he actually had to face the truth, the hard reality of what day it was.
Sunday.
AKA the day he was heading back to Minnesota.
Fuck.
An old cliche popped into his head: "Reality bites with a variety of sizes of teeth" and at that moment, he had about a dozen great white sharks chomping down on him. Repeatedly.
He sighed internally, deciding to open his eyes and at least check the time, hoping the brightness behind his eyelids didn't mean anything other than it was past dawn. If luck was on his side, the male he was sharing a bed with would still be sleeping, allowing him a quick peek before rolling over and nodding off again.
Reluctantly, he opened one eye, seeing the singer laying on his side, facing the teen. Eyes open.
Kendall opened both of his, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Dude," he started, voice rough from sleep. "Quit staring. It's creepy."
A small smirk formed on James' face, a barely audible laugh breathed out. "I like looking at you," he responded, hand carding through the hair on top of the blond's head, shoving it back from his forehead. "I like your face."
The teen scrunched up his features, not thinking he was much to look at, especially when in bed with a practical god like the brunet.
Then again, the pop star could have anyone in the world that he wanted, yet he was there with the metal head, had asked Kendall to fly out, had told the teen he was the first for a lotta shit, including his first time being fucked. That had to count for something, right?
A small smile formed on his face as he stretched, his knees knocking against the other male's, the two of them both on their sides. Muscles loosened, Kendall lifted himself up to look at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand located on James' side, seeing it was a li'l after ten. He let out a groan as he slumped back down, his head hitting the pillow with a light thump.
"Do we hafta get up?" he questioned, eyes closed, feeling like he was back to being a li'l kid and begging his mom to not make him go to school.
"Unless you want breakfast," the singer pointed out, hand now on the teen's hip, lightly gripping it.
The blond opened his eyes, meeting the questioning gaze of the brunet. The knowledge of what day it was returned to the forefront of his mind, dread and anxiety pooling in his stomach, twisting it in knots. He wasn't entirely sure if there was room for food in it, or if he was even in the mood to deal with that whole eating thing. So instead, he just shook his head, resting a hand on the larger male's waist, thumb rubbing the tan skin. "Not really hungry."
"Me neither," the pop star replied, voice low. "Guess you're thinking about tonight, too."
The teen nodded, knowing the other male wasn't referring to his concert later on.
The hand on his hip moved, arm wrapped around his waist as he was pulled closer, the brunet pressing their foreheads together. Their eyes locked, breath exchanged, neither moving, just relishing the time they still had left together. It was moments like this that the blond was gonna miss the most, the quiet time when it was just the two of them alone in their li'l bubble, no school, no job, no cock-blocking personal assistants. It was peaceful, relaxing, perfect, something the teen had no idea he needed but now desperately craved. He was gonna miss the shit out of it when he was home.
A small frown formed on the singer's face, hazel-green eyes trained down, a thoughtful look on his features. The metal head nudged his nose against the other male's, a leg slinging over the other pair.
"What?" he questioned, voice quiet, not wanting to ruin their peace.
"Just thinking," James began, pausing to lick his lips. "Not sure if I wanna spend my last morning with you having sex—"
"Again," Kendall interrupted, the larger male breathing out a laugh as he smiled.
"Yeah, again," the brunet agreed before his face grew serious once more. "Or if I just wanna spend this time holding you, since I have no clue when I'll be able to do either again."
The grin on the blond's face disappeared, the reminder of his later departure a punch to the chest. Although the fact that neither of them knew when exactly they'd be seeing each other again was more like a stab in the heart. James had his career, touring, recording, music videos, all that shit. Kendall had a life back in Minnesota, a job, school, his mom and sister. It was gonna be just like before, the two of them separated without knowing if they'd see each other again.
But surely after everything that'd happened that weekend, shit would be different. No more mental or emotional distance, no more hanging up when conversations got too deep, no more virtual silence before random apologetic phone calls. The blond was gonna tried his damnedest to be less of a li'l shit and hope the brunet would be less of a douchebag and shit would work out between them.
Kendall couldn't handle losing the other male. Not permanently. Not in that way.
Swallowing hard, he thought of the two options he'd been given; his last chance at physical closeness, last chance to sleep with the other male for who knew how long, last chance to be held like he was something worthwhile.
Meeting the other male's eyes, he took his fill of the mix of browns and greens, trying to memorize it for later, knowing pictures didn't do them any justice. "Whatever you wanna do."
The singer nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully, before making up his mind. He rolled onto his back, pulling the smaller male with him so that the teen was laying halfway on him. Kendall rested his head on James' chest, arms around the larger male's waist, snuggling close as arms wrapped around him. As great as sex was, as much as he liked fucking the brunet the night before, he wanted to be held more than anything.
He was turning into a fucking sap.
And he was sooo fucking okay with that.
The elder male pressed his lips to the top of the younger's head, holding him close, not seeming to wanna move. So they stayed there, not talking, the only sounds their even breathing and the heartbeat in Kendall's ear.
For the moment anyway.
"'Cause you are the piece of me, I wish I didn't need," James started singing softly, lowly, the words breathed out against the younger male's hair as they laid together. "Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why."
The teen had no clue what song it was or who originally did it but he didn't give a shit. Hell, chances were the pop star had no clue what song he'd played on the guitar the night before. What mattered most in that moment was who was serenading him and what words were coming out his mouth.
Closing his eyes, Kendall let out a long exhale, feeling his entire body relax as the other male continued crooning.
"If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?"
The blond slowly drifted off to sleep, the angelic voice of the man he loved in his ears.
The singer's alarm was a demon sent from the eighth circle of Hell.
Kendall was being completely fucking serious, too, so why James laughed at that...
The blond lifted his head off the pillow, his chest slightly raising off the mattress where he'd been laying on his stomach, the elder male having been snuggled up to his side, arm draped over the smaller male's waist. The brunet reached over the other male, grabbing his iPhone off the nightstand and killing the alarm, the usual warning text from Logan arriving right after.
"Are you really that bad at sleeping in past alarms?" the teen questioned, the elder male still laying over him.
"Yup." Smartphone silenced and texts replied to, he put it back before kissing the top of the smaller male's spine. And not moving.
Not that Kendall minded. It was a huge change from when he'd first showed up and the singer could barely stand to have his hand held, much less remain cuddling in bed. They'd gotten over a lotta hurdles, knocked down a lotta walls between them that weekend. And yeah, some still remained and neither of them had completely opened up, but they'd come a long way in a short amount of time, to the point where Kendall felt as if he knew James a lot better than anyone else—except Logan, of course—felt as if he finally understood the elder male and why he acted the way he did. He could only hope going home didn't set them back and that they continued making progress in their relationship.
Which they still hadn't fully defined.
Fucking eh.
The iPhone beeped again, James muttering out a "for the love" as he reached for it, sitting up when he had it in hand. Kendall took the opportunity to roll onto his back, stretching before sitting up himself. Leaning forward, he rested his head on the larger male's shoulder, feeling the muscles move as he typed away, his arms wrapping around a muscular torso.
"We definitely gotta go now, huh?" he questioned once he felt the other male still.
A heavy sigh left the singer before he nodded and let out a quiet "yeah", tossing his iPhone a few inches in front of him. Placing his hand over the other male's, he twined their fingers together, squeezing the digits tightly.
And still neither of them moved.
A million thoughts raced through Kendall's mind, none of which he wanted to dwell on. It was the last time he'd be able to wake up next to the brunet, the last time it'd be just the two of them alone, the last time he'd be able to hold him close and never wanna let him go for who the fuck knew how long. In a matter of hours, he'd be on a plane, heading back to Minne-fucking-sota, the two of them separated just like before.
He dropped his head, forehead against the other male's shoulder blade, refusing to admit that his vision had gotten blurry and that tears had formed in his eyes. He wasn't a pussy, wasn't a li'l bitch who cried at shit, not anymore. But it was kinda hard to remember that when his heart was breaking and he wasn't sure when it'd be put back together—if ever.
James shifted in his seat, still not getting up, still not pulling away, the teen remembering what had happened the night before, the way the two of them had come together, how it'd been the singer's first time bottoming.
"You okay?" he questioned, lifting his head and resting his chin on a broad shoulder, focusing on the other male and what had happened, rather than what was about to happen later.
The brunet nodded, small smile forming on his face. "Fine," he replied, thumb rubbing the teen's. "I can see why you enjoy that."
A slight chuckle left the younger male, pressing his lips to tan skin in a kiss. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." The grin stayed as he paused for a moment. "I'd still rather fuck you repeatedly though, but I wouldn't mind switching every now and then."
More laughing from the blond, the brunet joining in, the mood lightened somewhat. The singer turned slightly, facing the other male better, keeping their hands joined as he played with the younger male's fingers.
"I gotta do a phone interview with a local radio station," he informed the teen, eyes on their hands. "You can hang in the living room with me and listen in if ya want, but it'll probably be the same cliché bullshit."
Kendall nodded, eyes trained to the same place the singer's were, considering the option. It wasn't as though he had much else to do, more than likely stuck in the hotel room until it was time to head to the venue. Plus not being around the pop star didn't seem like an appealing option, his mind, heart, and body all agreeing that he needed to spend as much time as possible around the other male, to take advantage of the few moments they had left by just being keeping him in sight.
Then again, he felt smelly and showering sounded like a damn good idea. Especially if it was one where he'd actually be able to shower and get clean, rather than speed through the whole washing process in order to focus on fooling around or having sex.
"Think I'm gonna have a shower," Kendall responded, looking up at the other male's face. "Let you focus on your interview."
"Mmm. You are rather distracting," James agreed, licking his lips as he looked at the blond's. The teen grinned at the compliment, the expression staying as the elder male leaned over and kissed him. It was brief, the singer soon pulling away, but both had smiles on their faces. "All right, you go shower and I'll deal with this invasive idiot and get pissed at my manager when he asks me something I don't wanna be asked."
The blond laughed again, responding with an "all right" before pecking the other male on the lips and getting outta bed. The brunet did the same, the two males parting ways: the elder heading to his suitcase to grab a pair of boxers, the younger to the bathroom.
Kendall didn't waste any time, starting the water and letting it heat up. He used the facilities, gargled some mouthwash, then stepped under the spray, sliding the frosted glass door shut behind himself. James' Cuda products were already in there, waiting to be used, the teen grabbing the bottle of shampoo and popping open the cap. It smelled just like the singer did, reminding the blond of holding the brunet close, burying his nose in those soft locks and inhaling the scent with every breath. It was just another minor detail he was gonna miss, one of those things that he hoped he didn't forget with time.
With a compulsive need to have part of the singer with him even after he left, he poured some of the shampoo onto his palm, rubbing his hands together to get a good lather going before scrubbing it into his hair and washing the blond locks. After rinsing it out, he proceeded to use the accompanying conditioner, then the bodywash, feeling kinda weird that there were three separate products when he used a shampoo/ conditioner/ bodywash/ shave gel all in one. Whatever. Made the brunet smell fucking amazing and he had to admit, his hair was soft and nice to run his fingers through.
Hair and body clean, he shut the shower off and got out, drying himself off with a nearby towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he exited the bathroom, finding the bedroom empty, the door open. The singer's voice drifted through the open portal, answering a question into his phone, how the tour was going from the sounds of it. The teen rolled his eyes, thinking the pop star had been right when he said he'd be answering a bunch of cliché bullshit.
Finger-combing his hair, he headed over to his duffel, grabbing whatever random clothes he had packed that were still clean, quickly getting dressed in a pair of black and gray plaid boxers, jeans, and... his Dethklok shirt.
How fitting.
Wistful smile on his face, he pulled the black cotton over his head, adjusting it around his waist, before gathering his dirty laundry and shoving it in his duffel. Not wanting to bother with his socks and shoes yet, he headed through to the living room, finding James sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, iPhone held to his ear. The grin stayed on the teen's face as he walked over, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, back against the arm of it, legs stretched out before him so his feet were against the pop star.
The brunet turned his head, smiling at the blond as he sat back, still chatting into the phone about the show that night. Answer wrapped up, he switched the iPhone to his right ear, now free left hand wrapping around the smaller male's ankle, thumb rubbing right under the protruding bone.
The teen smiled more, scooting down so his foot was more on the other male's lap, relishing the small amount of contact he was getting. He hated that every li'l thing was accompanied by the thought and the belief that this would be the last time it would happen for an unknown amount of time, but it was true and he couldn't stop the thought from forming, as bad as he wanted his brain to shut up.
Uncooperative bastard.
Shoving everything aside, he focused on the other male, studying him, taking in his fill of the pop star while he still could. He seemed relaxed, completely at ease, lazily rubbing the smaller male's ankle as he laughed at whatever the interviewer had said, chiming in with his own witty response. It was easy for the teen to imagine the two of them having a life together like this, the younger male following him on the road, idly standing by in silent support as the singer did his interviews and meet-n-greets and performed, the two of them spending downtime together in hotel rooms or walking around whatever city they were in, acting like tourists as they—
His brow furrowed. All right, acting like tourists wasn't a bad idea, even sounded fun really. But they couldn't be couple-y tourists, couldn't hold hands as they walked around or share kisses at famous landmarks. Whatever, he honestly didn't mind. He wasn't too huge on PDA in the first place, plus he was still able to spend time with the other male at all. Couldn't complain about that.
Except for the part where none of this could happen at all because Kendall was still in high school and still had to deal with his senior year. Not to mention his mom probably wouldn't be too cool with him tagging along with some celeb as he toured the country.
If James himself even wanted it, too.
The brunet turned his head to the blond, seeing the frown on the younger male's face, one forming on his own. Making eye contact, he mouth a "you okay?" giving a reassuring squeeze to the smaller male's ankle.
Kendall nodded, putting a small smile on his face, reminding himself that he still had the here and now, that the future was never certain and that he really needed to stop dwelling on any sorta negative possibilities that may or may not happen. He rubbed his free right foot against the larger male's thigh, feeling the soft cotton of the boxers against his bare skin. This was what mattered: the two of them together at that moment, with no one and nothing else.
Except the phone interview but whatever.
James wrapped up the conversation with the radio DJ, thanking him for having him on the show, giving him a goodbye before clicking to end the call and setting his phone on the arm of the couch next to him. Turning his head, he focused on the teen, still rubbing at his ankle. "Hungry?"
The blond wrapped his arms around his torso, stomach still tied up in knots, dread and worry sitting heavily inside it. "Not really."
"Me neither," the brunet confessed, free hand rubbing his forehead, eyes closed. He let out a sigh before dropping his forearm onto the arm of the couch and reopening his eyes. "But we gotta eat. Otherwise Mama Logie will be on our asses."
The teen snorted, eyes rolling, having had enough of Mama Logie giving him grief for the rest of his life. "Room service?"
"Sounds good." Giving the smaller male's ankle one last squeeze, he removed the foot from his lap and got up, laying the teen's leg back on the couch. He looked down at the younger male, eyebrow cocked, shaking his head. "You aren't supposed to be dressed, by the way."
"I'm rebelling," the blond stated smugly, shit-eating grin on his face.
The singer grabbed a throw pillow off the couch, slapping it against the teen's face, making the younger male laugh. "Li'l shit."
Kendall kept laughing as he tossed the pillow back to the other side of the couch, watching as James made his way to the bedroom to grab the room service menu.
"The usual?" the pop star called back as he entered the room, disappearing behind a wall.
The smile on the blond's face grew at the idea that he had a "usual" and that the brunet knew what it was. "Yeah! Sounds great!"
"Comin' right up!" the other male replied, before adding a "cutie!"
The smile disappeared, replaced by a glare. Some "usual" things were really fucking annoying.
Lunch was eaten on the couch, James finally putting on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, allowing Kendall to have an actual conversation with him rather than ogle his bare chest. The twosome chatted away about music, the blond telling what song he'd played, the brunet the one he'd sang, the teen telling about how long he'd played guitar and stating that he could outplay Travis any day of the week and no, that wasn't bragging, it was the truth. James had laughed and placated the younger male, talk turning to what the teen was gonna do after high school.
That ended the laughter.
Kendall's brow furrowed, lips pursed as he stared at the few fries that remained on his plate. "Guess I gotta figure that out. First I gotta make sure I graduate." His eyes lifted to the other male as he realized what he was saying, soon adding a partial explanation. "My grades aren't that great," he stated with a small shrug, leaving out the fact that he was one strike away from being fully expelled and not allowed near school property for life.
"Better study hard then," the brunet pointed out, grabbing the last piece of his own burger. "Then you can go to college near LA so I can see you more." He winked before putting the last bite of his food in his mouth.
The teen's bottom lip stuck out in thought as a knock sounded out on the door, the singer getting up to answer it. College had never really been anything he'd considered before, mostly because he didn't even think he'd finish high school, figuring he'd be kicked out or just dropped out before graduation. But now he was thinking about it, because the other male had put the idea in his head, had alluded to the two of them still being together when it happened, allowing them to be closer together distance-wise.
It had to be a good sign that the pop star was thinking about that far in the future, right?
Right.
James walked back over, Logan in tow, the assistant announcing that they were leaving in a few and that they needed to take their stuff with them, giving a pointed look towards Kendall. The reminder that he was headed home after the show killed his buzz, ruined the small amount of joy that had been creating at the pop star's allusion to their future together. Tossing the fries he had in his hand back onto the plate, he stood up, announcing he was gonna go get his stuff together.
The singer followed him into the bedroom, packing his stuff in his suitcase as the teen tossed his things into his duffel without care. Next, he sat on the end of the bed, slipping on a pair of socks then his boots, lacing them up. Placing both feet on the floor, he let out a sigh, head hanging.
A pair of familiar looking feet, entered his line of sight, a hand grabbing his and pulling him to his feet. James didn't say a word, just pulled him into a hug, arms around his waist, foreheads pressed together. The embrace did more than words could, reassuring the younger male that all was gonna be okay and that he had nothing to worry about, including what was gonna happen later that night.
The teen closed his eyes, relaxing into the hold, feeling all his worries leave. Until there was a knock on the door.
Straightening up, he pulled his head away from the brunet's, meeting his eyes. "Maybe after I graduate high school, you can hire me as your personal assistant, 'cause I might kill Logan."
"Tempting," the singer replied, seeming like he was seriously considering it. "C'mon," he suggested with a slap to the blond's ass, pulling out the smaller male's hold. "Let's go before he gets more grumpy."
Kendall nodded, feeling all the worries from before coming back as he headed over to his duffel, picking it up off the floor. James exited the bedroom first, suitcase wheeled behind himself, the teen's green eyes focusing on where the two of them had been standing. Knowing he couldn't touch or hold the other male the way he wanted once they left the hotel room, a bad feeling came over him, a belief that it might've been the last time he'd be held by the other male for a long time.
The hustle and bustle of getting the show together had already started by the time they got to the venue. Kendall dropped his things off in the singer's dressing room before joining Logan at the side of the stage to watch James' soundcheck. The Q&A session went the same as always, the usual questions asked, the pop star answering them in his professional as always way, his public image smile plastered on his face. The same as always "are you single?" inquiry was brought up, the brunet stating he wasn't in a relationship, and the blond had to hide his wince, remembering that the singer might not actually be lying.
The soundcheck over, James was shuttled off to start the meet-n-greet, Kendall heading back to the dressing room. Only he wasn't left alone this time. Logan went with him.
The assistant shut the door behind them, leaning against it, arms folded over his chest as a thoughtful pout formed on his face. The teen flopped onto the couch, slouching with his legs spread, waiting for the other male to speak.
Except he didn't.
"Logan?" the blond prompted, head twisted in question. "There something you need?"
The brunet shoved his fingers in his hair, making the strands stand up even more, eyes focused on a spot on the floor a few inches in front of him. "I just wanted to apologize. For being so rude to you."
Surprise had the teen's eyebrows raising before he recovered, shrugging nonchalantly as he folded his arms over his chest. "No biggie," he commented. "I'd be the same way with my own best friend."
The assistant nodded, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khakis as he raised his head and looked at the other male. A serious expression was on his face, letting the younger male know exactly what kinda conversation they were both in for. "He ever tell you about his parents?"
Yeah. Definitely serious and deep. His own expression matched the other male's, allowing the elder male to realize that he was taking this whole thing just as solemnly as him. "Enough for me to know I don't like 'em."
Logan's eyebrows went up, seeming surprised, although Kendall wasn't sure if it was surprise at the blond's response or at the singer actually bringing his parents up. He quickly recovered, eyebrows going back to where they should be, scratching his forearm. "Yeah, well, you're probably right to," he responded, before putting his hand back in his pocket. "They messed him up. A lot. I just don't want anyone else making things worse for him."
The blond nodded, swallowing before licking his dry lips. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between his knees as he looked at the other male, grave expression on his face. "You don't hafta worry about me," he vowed. "If there's one thing I learned this weekend, it's that I care about him more than I thought I did before."
A small smile tugged at the corner of the assistant's lip, dimple forming in his cheek, relief causing his shoulders to slump some. "I know," he admitted lowly, seeming more at ease than he had been at the beginning of their conversation. "And just so you know, I'm glad, 'cause he cares about you, too, more than he'll admit to anyone else. Even to you. Or me."
The teen swallowed hard once more, teeth chewing the inside of his bottom lip, head tilting down to stare at the floor as he mulled the statement over. He'd kinda had an inkling that James cared about him as something more than just a fan, more than just a groupie—mainly towards the end—and as great as it was to hear it from the guy who knew the singer better than anyone else on the planet, it would've been better to hear it from the male himself.
Only fuck knew if and when that'd ever happen.
But for the time being, he decided to take what he could get, especially when the clock kept ticking and his time with the pop star was drawing to a close.
Raising his head back up, he met Logan's eyes, small smile on his face. "Thanks, man. And I'm sorry for being a shit to you."
The brunet shrugged, smirking. "Understandable." He pushed away from the door, walking over with his hand outstretched, stopping in front of the teen. "Friends?"
The grin on the blond's face grew, taking hold of the other male's hand and shaking it. "Yeah. Friends."
The two exchanged smiles as they reached a truce of sorts, an understanding that both of them cared about the same guy—albeit in different ways—and that both were looking out for James' best interests, being careful that he didn't get hurt. The younger male had a hope that in the future, any trips out to see the pop star would go smoother, without any sorta suspicious looks or glares for something he did, his motives no longer being questioned. There'd probably still be ill-timed knocks on the door and annoying texts at inconvenient moments, but it was just something he'd have to get used to.
It struck him as a li'l weird that he was actually thinking of the future and shit that may happen, mind bringing up possibilities of things he'd have to deal with and how his life would be as a part of James' life, when not too long ago, he was worried about the singer seeing him only as a sex toy, one to be tossed aside when the weekend was over and his physical needs satisfied.
Funny how shit changed.
The door opened, James entering the dressing room, an eyebrow raising in question as he took in the scene before him. Kendall released Logan's hand, standing up from the couch, adjusting his shirt around his waist. "There something I need to worry about here?" the singer questioned, pointing back and forth between the other two males in the room.
Logan rolled his eyes, Kendall cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. "We just reached a truce," the assistant informed the pop star, folding his arms over his chest. "No need to worry about us not getting along."
The taller brunet smiled a relieved smile, thumbs hooking in the pockets on his jeans, his demeanor relaxed. "Good."
"Yup," the shorter male agreed, walking over to his best friend and patting him on the chest. "You got yourself a good one, buddy."
The smile on the singer's face grew as his eyes locked onto the teen's, the third male of their group heading to the still open door behind him. "Yeah. I do."
Logan now gone, Kendall walked over to James, stopping right in front of him. "I got a better one."
The larger male stuck his bottom lip out in thought, head see-sawing as he considered that statement. "Yeah, you're right."
The blond rolled his eyes, ruffing the brunet's hair and laughing at the offended noise that came from the singer's mouth, leaving the room to follow the assistant down the hall to catering. A slap to his ass was felt, the elder male on his left, glaring playfully at him, all of them walking at a leisurely pace, Logan chattering away about the show later on. The grin on Kendall's face stayed as he listened to the back and forth between the other two males, thinking he could get used to it, dreading that it'd be over before it barely had begun.
The show went off perfectly, James the perfect professional, not letting anyone in the audience know that anything was happening to him personally. Kendall allowed himself to get lost in the music, to forget about what was gonna happen after the show, to forget about any countdown to any separation, to just enjoy what was going on at that very moment. Once again, he found himself enthralled by the singer's voice, a li'l turned on by the dance moves, impressed at the vocal range and the show itself that the pop star put on. It wasn't a surprise that the guy was as big and as popular as he was, something he didn't quite get a few months ago. But having witnessed four shows now, he understood it all.
But unfortunately, the show had to come to an end. The encore sung and the goodbye called into the mike, the singer left the stage, handing his equipment over to the techs, barely able to look at anyone, face trained downward. Anxiety was pooling in the teen's stomach once more, an anticipation that was just as intense as the one he felt after the first show on his weekend trip, only for different reasons. While the previous experience in this situation was about getting ready to have sex, now it was about his own goodbye with the singer.
Shit.
The twosome headed to the dressing room, Logan letting them know Kendall's cab would be there in a few, that the bus was leaving in about twenty minutes, before he disappeared, the door closing behind him. And while normally that was a signal of sorts for James to pounce on the teen, this time no moves were made.
They stood there silent, unmoving, on opposite sides of the room. The blond had no fucking clue what to say, where to begin. He wanted to tell the other male exactly what he was feeling, what was happening in his head. He wanted to express how much he cared about the brunet, how much he was gonna miss the elder male, how much he didn't wanna go home. Mostly, he wanted to let the singer know that he was scared, scared they'd never see each other again, scared he'd never hear from the other male, scared the pop star was done with him forever.
Only he couldn't say any of it, couldn't figure out the words to properly state any of it. For the first time, he actually hated his habit of not opening up, of not expressing his feelings and instead ignoring shit, hiding it with drugs and/or alcohol. It clearly rendered him unable to handle himself in that moment, made him silent and mute and just... stuck.
"You know it's not over between us, right?"
The other male's voice had his head raising from where he'd been staring at the floor by his feet. He dropped his hand from where it'd been rubbing his neck, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep himself together. "What?"
"It's not over," James repeated, eyes focused solely on the blond. "Just 'cause you're going home after. Everything."
"After we fucked, you mean," Kendall put it bluntly.
The brunet nodded, eyebrows raising for a quick second in concession, in a silent way of stating "well, I wasn't gonna put it that way, but all right". "Yeah. It's not like it's some 'okay, got that shit done and out the way, now I can move on with my life kinda deal'. I'm still gonna call you, still gonna talk to you."
The blond dropped his hands by his sides, a small amount of hope blossoming inside his too tight chest. "Really?"
"Really." The singer walked over, stopping right in front of the teen, their toes touching. Taking hold of the younger male's hands, he twined their fingers together, pressing his forehead to the other male's. "Crazy together."
A small smile twisted up the corner of the smaller male's lips, fingers gripping onto the elder's. "Right," he agreed, the grin dropping almost immediately. "Just sucks we can't be together together when we do it." He raised their hands, holding them up by their shoulders, pressing their wrists together. He could feel the other male's pulse against his own, their heartbeats in sync with each other, the two of them seeming to be on the same page on this.
They stood there for a long silent moment before James pulled his hands away, taking a step back. Kendall watched as the other male untied the bandana from around his own wrist, realizing he'd never actually seen the singer without it. In every picture, the black cotton adorned his wrist—except pictures of him in a suit or tux, but that was beside the point. And the entire weekend, it had been wrapped around the same body part, rubbing against the blond's own skin during sex, during hugs, during hand holds and naps and anytime the brunet's wrist came in contact with him.
But now, he was taking it off, holding it out to the younger male. "Here. So you have a piece of me with you."
The teen stood there dumbfounded for a moment, mouth doing a goldfish impression, open, shut, open shut, as his hand moved on automatic, taking the bandana. "Wow, I—" He honestly had no idea what to say there, what kinda words would accurately describe what he was feeling or thinking or anything. So instead, he took off his beanie and held it out to the other male, quid pro quo, figuring the singer could do the same thing and have a piece of Kendall with him.
"Same for you," he stated, watching the other male taking the offered item. "It probably smells funky, but you can wash it or something." A sudden wave of bashfulness hit him and he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward and nervous.
James sniffed the hat, small grin on his face. "Smells like you," he commented before putting it on, holding his arms out to the side. "How do I look?"
'Like you're mine.'
He grinned back, unable to hold it back, even if he wanted to. "Great."
"Perfect!" the singer stated, stepping closer to the teen once more, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close as they pressed their foreheads together once more. "Now we have a piece of each other at all times, so we'll never be alone."
Kendall swallowed hard, not wanting the embrace to end, wishing that instead of a hat, he could pack himself up in the pop star's suitcase and just follow him around. But he couldn't, and that just fucking sucked.
A knock sounded on the door, Logan's muffled voice announcing that Kendall's cab had arrived. The teen called out a thanks, not moving, just holding the singer tighter, head resting on the other male's shoulder.
"Text when you land," James requested. "I mean it. I'm not sleeping 'til I hear from you and that you're okay."
"My flight won't land 'til nearly four am local time."
"Don't care."
A small snort of laughter left him before he moved his head to look at the brunet in the eye. He wanted to say something special, meaningful. He wanted to tell James those three li'l words, but decided against it, kissing him instead. The first time those words were exchanged shouldn't be as a goodbye.
Kendall didn't cry when he had to finally part from James. He sure as shit didn't cry when he waved his goodbyes to the various members of the pop star's band and crew that he passed on his way out. He didn't cry when he gave Logan one of those hand-slap bro-hugs before getting in his cab.
He didn't cry at the airport, instead deciding to distract himself with some reading material at the terminal store. He avoided the Pop Tiger and its promise of a "full sized James Diamond poster inside!", instead purchasing a Revolver. He considered spitting on Hockey magazine outta spite for all the trouble the sport had caused him over the years, but thought twice about it, instead hitting up the cafe for a smoothie.
It wasn't until he was on the plane itself that the first tear fell.
But it wasn't a huge breakdown, wasn't this major cryfest where the tears streamed down his face and snot ran out his nose and he could barely breathe he was crying so hard. It was just a minor steady stream of wetness slowly rolling down his cheeks as he stared out the window at the black sky, sniffing every once in a while. As weird as it seemed, he hurt too much to really cry.
He missed James already, with an ache that was physical as well as emotional. He could feel it soul-deep, feel it in his bones how bad he wanted to be back in the other male's arms, to be looking into those hazel-green eyes, to be hearing that voice in person and not through some electronic device. Only a couple hours apart and he was longing to be reunited with him. Reunited and never again separated.
His addiction to James had only gotten worse.
The first hour of Kendall's flight was spent like that, the steady flow of tears that he never wiped away, the staring out into space through the window, until he finally joined the other passengers in sleep.
He texted James as soon as he walked through the terminal, a quick "landed and alive". Seconds later his phone beeped with a reply from the other male: 'good. Miss u.' He returned the sentiment before heading to the exit.
His car was waiting in long-term parking, right where he left it. Tossing his duffel in the backseat, he got behind the wheel and headed home. The hour long drive was spent in silence, only the hum of the engine and the wheels on the highway roads. He didn't think he could handle music of any form, not yet anyway. Instead, he focused on the task of driving, of staying alert and watching the practically deserted freeway and empty streets of his hometown as he passed through them.
He barely even noticed when he pulled into his driveway, momentary confusion hitting him about why he'd stopped only to realize where he was. With a heavy sigh, he killed the engine, pulled his keys from the ignition, grabbed his duffel, and exited the vehicle. His feet scuffed the sidewalk as he made his way to the front door, fatigue from the long weekend and depression over it being done both wearing him down. Door unlocked, he opened it and headed inside, stopping dead when he noticed a light on in the living room.
His head turned to his left, seeing his mom sitting in an armchair, lamp on to the side of her. She closed the book that was on her lap, head tilting up to look at him, expression flat.
Shit.
The only thing worse than her angry face was her "I'm so pissed and disappointed I can't even figure out how to properly arrange my facial features to express it in the right manner" face. The last time Kendall had seen it had been back in March when he'd... when he'd disappeared for an entire weekend to hang out at Guitar Dude's and spend the Easter holiday getting stoned and drunk while his parents were gone.
Double shit.
Closing the door over, Kendall turned to face his mom, opening his mouth to speak.
"Don't bother," she interrupted before he could even start, putting her book in the round table next to her chair before getting up. "I don't wanna hear any excuses or so-called explanations or lies. Just go to bed and I'll deal with you later."
The even tone and the calm exterior of his mom caused the ball of dread to return to his stomach, waves of anxiety washing over him. He knew he should've called or texted or something to let her know he was alive and okay and not to worry—although she'd worry anyway cause that's what moms do—but he didn't. He was stuck on his happy li'l James Diamond bubble, not wanting to leave or acknowledge that his real life still existed, a real life that included a mom who'd called and texted and inquired as to his whereabouts. And now, he was paying for it.
Her frosty glare remained level, not looking at him as she walked over, pausing by his left. "By the way," she started, looking straight ahead at the staircase. "You're grounded. Forever." With that, she continued on her way, presumably up the steps and to her bedroom.
Kendall stayed where he was, eyes closed as the weight of her words hit him. His mom being so calm on the outside only meant she was raging inside and he knew for a fact he was in for it the next morning.
Because shit was only getting better for him.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly before locking the front door up and ascending the steps to his own room. He closed the door behind himself, dumping his duffel on the floor, staring at his surroundings. His room was exactly the same, completely unchanged, and he wondered why he expected things to be different. He figured it was because he himself felt different, had changed, had grown. He'd learned it was okay to talk about his dads and his past, it was okay to open up and be vulnerable, it was okay to care about someone and let them get close to you emotionally.
It clearly wasn't okay to not check in with his mom and let her worry for three days but he kinda already knew that.
Shuffling over, he flopped facedown on his bed, mattress squeaking and wallet chains rattling with the action. Folding up his arms, he rested his forehead on them, feeling James' bandana that he'd wrapped around his wrist rubbing his skin.
A million emotions hit him at once: loss, need, longing, want, missing, love, loneliness, depression. And as he laid facedown on his bed, the singer's bandana on his forehead and scent in his nose, he finally broke down and wept harder than he had in years.