A/N: Okay, hey, hi, so I'm procrastinating making Christmas presents to write this chapter and post it and also I just flat out can't figure out how to get this zombie's head attached to her body (irony, right?) so hey! Update! Two very important shout-outs to make: first, majorly awesomely HUGE love to Kaizer for her BEAUTIFUL drawing that I ADORE made for this fic. BEAUTIFUL! Which I already said beautiful. Whatever, I'm tired and it's the holidays, I'm allowed to be messed up in the head. Secondly: shout-out to Linda who now owes me fanart and is partially responsible for part of this chapter with her messages over how certain Heffron Drive songs fit this 'verse. Yes, very true, and I'm mad at half that album. Also, thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you and I promise that bit we talked about is coming. Eventually. Later on. Oh and lookie, ANGST! Song credit: "Passing Time" by Heffron Drive, which is where the chapter title also comes from and also almost surpassed my obsession with the Shingeki no Kyojin OSTs. Almost. Okay, I'm done rambling. Enjoy the update! Oh! And happy first night of Chanukah! And happy early Christmas! Enjoy the gay (kinda) porn!!

Time was a weird thing. Sometimes it seemed to fly by, like barely a second had passed when really, it was an hour or two later. Sometimes it was slow as hell and when you thought the afternoon was over, it'd only been a few minutes. But it was never actually slow or fast or anything. A day was still twenty-four hours, an hour was still sixty minutes, a minute was still sixty seconds, and a second was still equivalent to "one one-thousand" or "one mississippi" or however else you counted it out loud.

Point was, Kendall had no idea how long he stood there holding James or how long James clung to him or how long they stayed in silence like that. He had no clue if it felt longer or shorter than the actual ten minutes they'd spent clutching at one another or what. He just knew that he really didn't wanna fucking let go. They were back in their little KendallJames bubble and neither of them seemed too inclined to leave it.

His phone blasting out Senses Fail's "Lady in the Blue Dress" acted like a pin, a knife, something sharp and evil that burst their bubble and reminded them that reality was a thing that existed and can't be ignored forever.

Well, shit.

James lifted his head, arms sliding around until his hands were on Kendall's hips, pulling away from the leaner male. "You should get that," he mumbled, head tilted down.

The blond snorted, head bobbing with the action. "Camille can wait," he declared, knowing it was her due to the ringtone set specifically for her calls. Not that it mattered. Regardless of who it was, he wasn't answering the phone for shit. He had James all to himself, no family, no friends, no obligations. Real life could wait.

Camille can wait.

The older man lifted his head, brow furrowed in confusion. "Camille?" he questioned. "The friend you met for coffee, right?"

Kendall nodded, hands on the other man's shoulders, thumbs absently rubbing along tan skin on the side of his neck. "Yeah," he replied lowly, teeth briefly sinking into his bottom lip before he continued. "She knows about us. But she won't ever say anything."

James tensed up beneath the teen's hands, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "You trust her?"

"With my life." He said the words with conviction, without hesitation. Because regardless of how they'd met or the fact that ninety-nine percent of their interactions and friendship had taken place over digital devices and the internet, he absolutely, one-hundred percent trusted in her. She was just as close a friend to him as Carlos and he'd grown up with the guy. He'd pick her over any of the other friends he had at school—if he could ever consider them friends—for any reason.

The singer nodded, licking his lips, eyes trained downward, body still tense. The phone rang again, the same song blasting from Kendall's pocket and he resisted the urge to chuck it across the room. Instead, he calmly slid it out and hovered his thumb over the "ignore" button, only to remember.


"What?" James' head popped up, eyes wide in worry, hazel-green orbs flitting back and forth between Kendall's green ones.

The younger male covered his face with his hand, groaning, dropping the hand still holding the phone to his side. "I was supposed to call her last night and tell her what was going on."

"Then you should definitely answer the phone."

He dropped his hand, staring down at the brunet with a cocked eyebrow, wondering what the hell he was smoking to suggest his boyfriend talk to some girl while they were experiencing the incredibly rare opportunity of time alone and together. "Say what now?"

The song ended as James shrugged a shoulder, only to start back up again seconds later. "Seems like she's the type to keep calling you until you finally answer and won't leave you alone until she gets through to you."

Kendall stared down at the phone, lips pursed in thought, nodding. 'Cause that was exactly who Camille was. If he didn't answer the phone at that moment, she'd start in with the twenty-thousand texts, then the five hundred twitter DMs, then she'd start bugging Carlos to see if Kendall was okay or not grounded or whatever, then she'd go back to incessantly bugging the blond through various methods before finally being able to talk.

Breathing out a swear, he flipped his green eyes up at the other male, noting how he was frowning down at the phone, too. "I can just answer and tell her I'll call back later," he suggested, shrugging nonchalantly.

"If that's what you wanna do," James replied noncommittally, not seeming bothered by it in any way.

The song stopped long enough for the blond to quirk an eyebrow and ask if his boyfriend was sure, the tone starting up once again almost immediately. The brunet nodded, pulling his arms completely away and letting them fall onto his lap.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "I'll just snoop through your stuff or something." He smirked up at the leaner male, who narrowed his eyes in suspicion while mentally running through every drawer and shelf and nook and cranny in his room, wondering if there as anything incriminating against him.

He was pretty sure he was safe. No alcohol stashed anywhere since he'd drank it all at the beginning of the summer. No pot since he hadn't bought any since before the first James Diamond concert. He'd quit cigarettes almost as soon as he'd started so none of those to worry about. Really, the only bad thing he had was lube and some condoms, but it wasn't like James wouldn't already be aware that he had those.

Bobbing his eyebrows in a dismissive manner, Kendall took a step or two back, thumb finally hitting the "answer" button on his phone before putting it to his ear. He'd barely opened his mouth before Camille yelled down the line at him.

"Oh now you answer the phone?! What the hell, Kendall? I spent half the night worrying that you were dead or grounded before finally calling Carlos and finding out that no, you're perfectly fine, and he had no clue why you weren't answering his calls either." She sighed harshly and the blond winced under the force of her angry tone, picturing her with a hand on her hip, glaring up at him, intimidating in a way her size normally wouldn't allow.

He turned around and meandered away from James, slowly pacing about with no real destination in mind. "Yeah, about tha—"

"You better have a damn good reason for not answering or calling back or at least sending me a fucking text! I won't accept anything less than a night spent in the hospital because you were dying."

Spinning on a heel, Kendall peeked at the pop star still sitting on the edge of the bed, checking out the textbook that had been left open on top of the comforter. "James is in town."


Pure silence.

Then a choking gasp of disbelief, followed by some stuttering and stammering that Kendall had no clue what words they were supposed to be, wrapped up with an incredulous "what?!"

The blond gripped the back of his neck, spinning away from his boyfriend as he drew out an awkward "yeeeeah". He wandered over to his window, leg kicking around as he stepped. "He, uh, he showed up last night and we spent the night together."

More silence.

"Oh my god!" At least it wasn't squealing. "That's so cute!" He spoke too soon.

He winced at the high-pitched screech in his ear, slightly pulling the phone away from his ear for a brief moment until it ended. "Jesus, Camille, mind the eardrums."

His comment went ignored as she went on at a high volume, excitement making her louder. "What happened? What did you guys do? Did you ever have that fucking talk?"

"Last night," Kendall informed her, ducking his head to hide his grin, scuffing his feet as he wandered over to his closet. "We made it official."

More. Fucking. Squealing.

And the worst part? Internally, Kendall kinda felt like squealing, too.

The realization that he was gonna have to deal with that reaction once again when he updated Carlos on everything made the urge disappear, replaced by annoyance and disbelief that those two squealy weirdos were his best friends.

"Finally!" Camille exclaimed, voice slightly distant, like she was yelling it to the ceiling in her overdramatic fashion.

"Yeah, but we're keeping it on the downlow," he was quick to add, finger pointed in warning, as though she was standing in front of him. "So don't say anything to anyone anywhere, all right?"

"Of course! Not a problem, my lips are sealed, I won't breathe a word of it," she vowed sincerely and rambly, Kendall exhaling in relief. Not that he ever doubted that she'd keep quiet on it, but it was still nice to actually hear it and have it confirmed. "But I'm still gonna reblog pics and photosets of you guys with tags about how much I ship you two and how you're pretty much endgame."

"Deal," he agreed, turning to see James sitting there with an eyebrow cocked in question. He covered the bottom of his iPhone with his hand, directing his next words at his boyfriend. "Camille promised to keep quiet, but reserves the right to openly ship us on Tumblr."

The confused look just grew into a frown, James' bottom lip sticking out, brow furrowed deep. "Ship us? Like with FedEx or something?"

Okay, now Kendall was confused. "You don't know what shipping is?"

"When you send a package." He was so earnest it was adorable and Kendall had to resist the urge to kiss him all over his face for it.

Returning his attention—and his words—to his phone, he kept his eye on the brunet as he spoke. "Camille, can I call you when James leaves? I have to explain to my confused boyfriend what shipping is and how FedEx isn't involved. Or UPS," he added before the pop star could, watching the confused frown return.

A giggle sounded down the line. "All right, but you better actually call me this time," she stated in a hard tone and he could perfectly picture her finger pointed at him, chocolate eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

"I will, promise."

"Good." The smirk was audible in her voice and he fought back one of his own, glad he wasn't on her shit list and things were okay between them again. Strange really. Just a month or so ago, he was busy trying to push people away, refusing to let anyone get close or form a connection with anyone. Now he was determined to hold on to them, refusing to think about how dark shit would get without James or Carlos or Camille in his life. Things had been bad with his previous losses; those three disappearing would probably kill him.

"Now go have fun with your boyfriend," she ordered, still smirking. "And make sure you use protection!"

He was about to argue that there was no way he was gonna have sex with anyone with his mom and sister home, but she hung up right as he'd opened his mouth. Oh well. He'd just have to make sure to point out how he did have some morals and some sense of self-control when it came to James.


Not a lot. But some.

Locking his iPhone, he set it on his desk, turning around and resting his ass on the edge of it, arms folded casually over his chest. Silence descended over the room, Kendall feeling awkward. What the hell did one do while hanging out with a boyfriend? So far, he and James' time alone tended to involve nakedness and orgasms—not that there was anything wrong with that—but it wasn't really an option with his mom and sister in the house. His mom had walked in on him doing a few things he'd rather her not know about. Seeing him actually having sex was something he didn't want her witnessing. Ever. At all.

"Didn't you have homework to finish?" James pointed out, causing Kendall's face to scrunch up in disgust.

The teenager let out a long suffering groan as he scuffed his way over to his bed and flopped down face first on it. Not that he was being melodramatic or anything.

A chuckle sounded out, followed by a smack to his ass that made him hiss as his cheek jiggled and his hole shuddered with the vibration, the tight rim stinging slightly from a lotta use the previous night. Not as bad as it had hurt the previous weekend, but still enough to be a little uncomfortable and put any sorta penetration off the table. Well, anything penetrating him at least.

"Pretty sure that's not one of your assignments," the brunet commented, shuffling on the bed so he was sitting with his legs stretched out over the younger man's ass.

Kendall's snort was muffled by his rumpled comforter, his body rocking with the noise. "How would you know? You aren't in my classes."

A kick on his ass was James' response this time and the blond finally lifted his head to glare. "Homework," the older man ordered, motioning to the text book with his head, pointed look on his face that silently warned Kendall not to fuck with him. "Sooner it's done, the sooner we can do something else."

Another sigh as the leaner male pushed himself up, long legs falling off him with the motions. "Fine," he grumbled, moving to his feet. "But I at least better get a blow job outta this or some shit."

"We'll see" wasn't a yes, but also wasn't a no and Kendall was totally cool with accepting it as a response.

He shoved at his boyfriend, muttering at him to scoot over, that that was his side. James did so with an eyeroll, snarking back about how he wasn't aware they had assigned sides of the bed.

"Well, technically," Kendall started, getting settled on his side, back against the headboard, textbook on his lap. "This entire bed is mine so all of it is my side."

James smacked the back of his hand on his chest, rolling his eyes again at the snicker he got in response, before shuffling down so he was laying on his side. "I'm taking a nap," he decided, removing the beanie from his head before nuzzling into a pillow. "I'm jetlagged as hell right now."

"Go for it," the blond replied with a shrug, eyes tracing the lines of text on the open page, trying to figure out where exactly he was at before James had showed the night before. He caught movement out the corner of his eye, flicking the green orbs over to see the brunet's hand hovering in mid-air, fingers clasping and unfurling repeatedly. His own eyes were fixated on something at Kendall's waist, the teen glancing down to note nothing weird or unusual, but the teeth sunk into the singer's bottom lip meant James was debating something, his brows furrowed in confusion and thought and determination.

Deciding just to make his mind up for him, Kendall grabbed hold of his arm and wrapped it around his own waist, settling the debate. James froze all over, muscles tensed up, eyes wide. The teen felt something inside sink, his chest tightening in hurt and fear. He'd been so sure that private acts of intimacy—the non-sexual kind anyway—were okay between them, that any nerves from touching were just caused by other people around. But even cuddling in the privacy of Kendall's bedroom seemed to freak James out and he couldn't help but feel like maybe it was just because it was him, because it was Kendall he was holding, that there was something so wrong and unlovable and uncuddlable about him.

But then James relaxed, his own freak-out over. Instead, he wrapped the arm around Kendall's waist tighter, moved closer so his head was snuggled in against his hip, forehead nuzzling into denim. A satisfied sigh left the singer, his long torso pressed up against skinny legs. The sight and sound brought a small smile to the teen's face, his arm automatically moving so it was draped over broad shoulders, fingers absently running through soft brunet locks. It didn't take long for the elder male to drift off, his breathing evening out, back rising and falling with each breath.

Kendall's eyes glanced back and forth between his history textbook and his boyfriend, wondering how James' own personal history had shaped him, what exactly it was that he'd been through to make even snuggling like this in a bed such a nerve-wracking thing for him. Not that he'd ever actually ask it. He'd managed to barely catch sight of that expressionless mask the singer wore so often when things got too personal and he wasn't about to change that. Maybe one day when he was more comfortable and more assured of their situation and relationship, then he'd tell Kendall. But for now, the teen would have to make do with what he was given.

Not that it was all that hard to deal with, he thought as he looked down at the sleeping male, who'd managed to hitch a leg up over the blond's shins. He imagined a far off reality where the two of them lived together and laying tangled up in bed like this was the norm, where James would come home from the studio, tired and ready for a nap, and Kendall would...well, Kendall honestly had no clue what Kendall would do, but he'd be doing something, maybe reading something else for fun or something.

His brow furrowed as holes made themselves known in his fantasy. Even if he wasn't sure of what his personal future held for him career-wise, there was still a chance that James wouldn't be involved in it anyway. The singer could get bored of him, could decide that Kendall wasn't what he really wanted. Wouldn't be the first time something like that happened.

Shaking his head, he told that thought to just fuck right off. No one knew what the future held. Really, one could only control their present, and Kendall's present currently had a super hot guy snuggled up to him sleeping soundly. He was gonna hold on to that for as long as he fucking could.

He shoved all thoughts aside, determined to focus on his homework and pass this class. And all his classes. Because regardless of any career or celebrity boyfriends being in his future, he knew for sure that high school most definitely wouldn't fucking be part of it.

An hour later and Kendall was done with his history homework and had moved on to cussing out his calc. Because seriously, what the fuck was the point of it? And why the hell did it live to torture him? Math was fucking stupid. There was no need to have letters in it. Or imaginary numbers, whatever the fuck that was.

James woke up soon after, stretching out lazily before flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling. Before staring at Kendall. Like a creeper. So naturally, Kendall did what anyone does in that situation: he put his textbook on top of his boyfriend's face.

"That's not getting your homework done either," James pointed out, lifting it off and smirking, dropping the heavy book back on the blond's lap.

Another groan left the teen, his head falling back against the wall. "Math is impossible. And stupid. And useless. And I hate it."

A snort of a laugh left the elder male as he slid up to a sitting position, knees drawn close to his chest, arms loosely wrapped around his legs. "Agreed," he admitted, fingercombing the hair on the top of his head. "I wouldn't have passed any class if it weren't for Logan."

"Lucky," Kendall muttered. As much as he loved Carlos, dude wasn't the brightest bulb in the box. Would've been nice to have a genius for a buddy to help him with his homework. Especially calc. Ugh.

He refocused on his homework, determined to just get the shit over with, pointedly ignoring the brunet on his left. Who was still looking at him. Brow furrowed, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and analytical as they roamed his face. Weirdo.

"Okay, seriously, do I have something on my face?" the blond demanded to know, turning to the other man with an eyebrow cocked. "Pretty sure you were the one sleeping and drooling."

"I don't drool," James argued back without missing a beat, voice seeming distant, like he wasn't fully part of the conversation.

Kendall opened his mouth to further question his strange behavior, only to have the singer shake himself out of it and slip his phone out his pocket. Okay, now the blond's curiosity was focused on that instead. "Dude, who're you texting?"

"No one." Another distant answer, since James was too busy concentrating on his screen. Where he was typing. And most definitely texting.

The liar.

"Bullshit," he argued, slapping his textbook closed and dropping it onto the floor without care. "Who're you texting?"

"I'm not texting," James denied without lifting his head, thumbs still moving across the touchscreen.

Full brows furrowed into a scowl, lips twisted to the side in annoyance. "Then what're you doing?"


Oh for fuck's sakes!

Done fucking around, Kendall reached for the phone, only to have James switch it to his left hand and hold it out his reach. "Oh come on, dude! Just tell me what you're doing."

The brunet finally lifted his head and looked at the younger male, smirk on his face, hazel-green eyes sparkling. "Nosy li'l shit."

"You should've seen me at Christmas when I was a kid," he remarked, lunging across James for the phone, only to be held back. "Just lemme see."


"Why not?"


Kendall sat back on his heels, lips twisting in a "seriously?" kinda way. "That was lame."

James just smirked before kissing the blond's nose with a quick peck. "Oh well."

A long sigh escaped past the teen's lips, bottom lip turning down in a pout. It wasn't that big a deal or anything, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Seemed like James was texting and for whatever reason, didn't wanna be fully honest with the younger male. Just another secret being kept from him really, like pretty much anything about his past or his family. If the singer had nothing to hide and wasn't up to no good, then he shouldn't have any issue with sharing it, or at least sharing who he was talking to. And if he wasn't texting anyone like he was claiming, then he shouldn't have a problem saying he was typing up a note of some form, lyrics or a reminder or something. But no. He was being shady as fuck.

And it was driving Kendall nuts.

A long moment passed between them with neither speaking, neither moving, eyes locked and not backing down. The blond feigned like he was giving up, relaxing his body, slumping slightly where he was sitting. And when the older male did the same thing, that's when he made his move.

In a flash, he lunged at James, knocking him onto his back with an "oof!", reaching for the phone that was held still out of his reach. "Just lemme see!"

"Why do you wanna see so bad?" James questioned, holding his arm over the side of the bed, the other limb trying to contain a squirming teenager on top of him.

"'Cause!" Kendall grunted, body shuffling about, chest rubbing against a broader one, leg slipping between two muscular thighs, arm straining to reach.

"You're right," the brunet muttered, head tilted up to make sure his iPhone was still outta reach. "That was lame."

The younger male just whined, further squirming about to try and get a hold of the object he was dying to get, torso rubbing, thighs shuffling, hips rolling...

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips rolled just right, as his groin rubbed right against James' thigh and caused the best kind of friction. His eyes went wide before slowly slipping half-shut, a groan leaving his parted lips. Gone was the playful atmosphere, gone was the goal of trying to peek at what his boyfriend was doing on his phone, all of it replaced by a more sordid sort of tension and a goal of a more x-rated kind.

Licking his lips, Kendall flicked his eyes down to the other male's, seeing a questioning look on his face. His muscles were still tense, arm still rigid where it held the iPhone away from the blond, brow cocking up in skepticism as he clearly refused to be tricked again. But Kendall no longer cared about the phone and the mystery typing, instead more drawn to the flecks of gold in James' eyes, the way his too long lashes stood out against his tan skin, the faint flush of red spreading across the apples of his cheeks. He was gorgeous and he was Kendall's, spread out on his bed, pinned down by a leaner frame.

Cautiously, the blond rolled his hips again, breath hitching once more at the barest friction he'd created. James caught on to the current happenings, sliding his foot up along the bed, bending his knee, pressing his thigh up against his boyfriend's crotch. Kendall gasped, eyes widening again, rolling his hips down harder. His teeth sank into his bottom lip but were still unable to hold back the whimper, his cock twitching within the confines of his jeans as it hardened from their ministrations.

A dull thump sounded out from somewhere over the side of the bed, a noise Kendall couldn't place. Not that he even wanted to. Because long fingers had slid into his hair, pulling his head down to James', their lips connecting in a passionate kiss. With the elder man distracted, he was able to shift his legs, moving so he was now straddling the broader one, pressing his half-hard cock down onto a growing bulge. James groaned, breath gusting out harshly against Kendall's face, fingers tugging desperately at blond locks and making the teen echo the noise.

Kendall's hand moved to the other man's sides, slipping up under his shirt, feeling smooth skin as they slid upwards. He dragged bitten on nails down his sides before smoothing them up his torso, caressing at a ridged abdomen, scratching at flat pecs, thumbing over pebbled nipples. The noise James made at the last action could only be described as a whimper, his hips bucking up against the blond's more forcefully as choked off laughter tried to make its way past preoccupied lips.

Their motions were lazy, smooth, in no hurry to do anything or go anywhere. They took their time feeling one another, letting the flames of arousal slowly grow, letting the embers simmer as they barely added the oxygen to really make it burn. But it was perfect, Kendall getting lost in hazy sensations, his mind blurring, his focus zeroed down to just JamesJamesJames.

Which was when his mom called for him.

The brunet was the one to hear it first, freezing beneath the younger man, pulling his lips away. It took Kendall a second—or ten—to get with the program, aided by his mom yelling his name a second time.

"Fuck," he breathed out, lifting himself up off the other man, head turning towards the open door. Which...oops.

Yeah, he'd totally forgotten about that and his whole personal vow to not fool around with his boyfriend while his mom and sister were home.

But in his defense, his boyfriend was James fucking Diamond.

Temporary insanity 'cause his good looks drove him crazy or some bullshit like that.

Clearing his throat, he called out a "yeah?", hoping like hell she didn't need him to actually go to her, not with a half-hard cock bulging out his jeans in a very noticeable fashion. His poor mom had suffered enough having him for a son.

"Can you come here a minute?"


Kendall grimaced as he climbed off his boyfriend, glancing down at his crotch to make sure things weren't too obvious and discretely rearranging things just in case they were. Probably didn't do any good and hopefully his mom wouldn't even be looking in the first place, but it never hurt really.

He let out a sigh before tromping down the stairs, trying like hell not to make it seem like he was in a rush and so very much didn't wanna be anywhere but in his room. Although that second part would be true even without James' current position on his bed—or even in his house. Still, wasn't like he wanted his mom to know that—although she was probably already aware solely because she knew Kendall himself—and tried to make it appear as though he was being the well-behaved good son he was trying to be rather than the horny teenager who had a sex god of a boyfriend laying half-hard and willing across his bed.

Yeah, that thought wasn't helping him hide his boner.

He barely remembered the conversation with his mom by the front door, just snippets about running errands with Katie, be gone for a little while, James welcome to stay for dinner, blah blah blah. All that mattered was that he and James were about to be home alone and he didn't have to worry about being busted doing inappropriate shit and bye guys, drive safe!

The door had barely been shut when he'd locked it up tight and raced upstairs.

Only to find his room empty.

The bathroom door was closed so Kendall assumed James was using the facilities.

He updated the older man on what was going on, getting a "cool" in response through the still closed door. Nodding, he shuffled over to the bed, preparing to sit down, when something on the floor caught his eye.

James' phone.

The dull thud he'd heard earlier. It must've been the iPhone dropping out the singer's hand and landing on the carpet.

He picked the device up, ready to just put it on the nightstand and forget about it, only to remember James typing on it earlier. The possible mystery text or note or whatever the hell he'd been doing but lying about. Kendall's curiosity piqued once again and after a quick glance at the door, he hit the home button and slid to unlock, revealing the familiar sight of a yellow note page with tiny black type on it.

Okay, so he'd been honest about not texting anyone, but why the hell couldn't he have just told Kendall he'd been typing something else? Lyrics, from the looks of it, made obvious by the lines all grouped together.

Kendall knew he shouldn't read them, knew there was a reason why James had decided to keep it to himself rather than share. But as previously pointed out, he was a nosy little shit and if there was a chance he could get to know some facet of James in any way, even if it was just a few rushed out lines of a possible future song, he was gonna take it, was gonna take the opportunity to get a brief glimpse into his mind and his thoughts and his emotions.

Another glance at the door, a quick strain of the ears to hear what was happening and make sure there was no chance of him being busted, and he scanned the lines, lips parting and jaw dropping with each word.

"Cause I lost my way inside the truth,
Watching moments slipping through my hands,
Kept getting emptier each day.

You lit the match, shook me awake.
The fire grew, you fanned the flames.
It burned until the walls let in the light.

Cause we're all passing time,
Looking for the rush that makes us feel alive.
Living through the moments, trapped inside a lie.
I need you here tonight,
Show me there's more to life,
And we're not passing time.

Breathing wasn't something Kendall did anymore. Just everything in him froze, shut down, ceased to work. Because that was as much of a love confession—or any sorta feelings confession—as he was ever gonna get, done in the only way a musician like James knew how to do it: through song.

Although really, there was a chance it wasn't about Kendall at all, that it was just some generic love song about some unknown, non-existent entity created outta nothing to make a beautiful piece of work, just like every other track on James' first two albums.

No, Kendall decided, catching a glimpse of when the note had been altered. That day. Moments ago. James had written this while sitting side by side with Kendall. And there were tiny clues in the words themselves that gave away who it was about: "shook me awake" when he'd just been napping against the blond; the mentions of fire and flames, the same way Kendall felt every time they touched; "I need you here tonight", almost the exact phrase James had used before Kendall had flown out to California on a whim just to be by his side.

James had written him a song. A love song.

Holy shit.

The toilet flushed in the next room, water starting up in the sink as James washed his hands, breaking the trance Kendall had fallen into. Locking the phone, he put it on the nightstand and stepped away, smoothing down his shirt, rubbing his palms on the sides of his legs, hoping the guilt he felt at peeking at someone's phone, someone's lyrics didn't show on his face.

But the words stayed in his head, glued to the forefront of his mind, brain creating a melody that went with the lyrics until all he could think about was that unfinished song, about how it'd been written for him by a guy he was falling for. Had fallen for. Was most likely very incredibly in love with.

And when the door opened and James stepped into the bedroom, Kendall flew at him, slamming their chests together as their lips collided in a kiss that was more passion than finesse, more need than technique.

The singer stood there stunned, a confused noise muffled out his pressed lips, hands fighting to push the blond back. His brow was furrowed in puzzlement, lips curved up at the corners in an amused smirk, a breath of laughter leaving his nose as his eyes searched the younger man's face for a clue. "What was that for?" he asked, not seeming pissed, but rather lost and entertained.

Kendall cupped the other man's face, eyes flicking back and forth between two hazel-green orbs, lips parted. The words were stuck in his throat, those three little syllables that were bubbling up from his chest, ready to spill out and fill the air with the intensity of their feelings and the magnitude of their announcement.

"If your daddy can't love you, how can anybody else?"

Shit. Not the time for a flashback, especially not that one.

But it was too late, the thought in his head, the realization that every male figure in his life—Carlos aside—left him at some point. His
dad. His step-dad. The first guy he'd slept with and had possibly thought was in a relationship with and was even falling in love with...

Fuck, what if he was wrong about shit again? What if what he believed was love was just teenage hormones and a ridiculous libido, a sexual compatibility that didn't extend past the bedroom? What if the feelings he believed he was developing weren't returned and he was stuck stitching up another gaping wound in his heart caused by a male he'd loved?

Because James was gonna leave. It was a fact. And it wasn't just his paranoia or his abandonment issues talking, it was the absolute truth. James lived in another part of the country and toured around the world. Leaving was part of his job. And Kendall couldn't go with him, was stuck in Minnesota in high school. Not that he'd really be able to go with him if he wasn't in high school, since he had a job and would most likely—hopefully—be going to college once he'd graduated.

They weren't gonna work.

And sooner or later, James was gonna realize this and leave Kendall in the metaphorical sense, not just the literal.

Panic welled up inside Kendall, bubbling and boiling, like magma ready to explode and pour out, burning it from the inside out, devastating everything it touched. His breathing was erratic, shaky, hands trembling where they slipped around to the back of James' head, fingers sliding along brown locks. God, his chest was tight. And his skin felt cold. And his heart was pounding so fast, so loud he was sure it was gonna just break through his ribs and take off running somewhere far, far away where it wouldn't get hurt anymore. Where it couldn't get hurt anymore. Where James couldn't hurt it.


He wasn't letting his heart get away and he sure as shit wasn't letting James get away either. For the time being, he had the pop star and he was gonna hold on to him with every ounce of strength he possessed, making it so the brunet couldn't leave, even if he wanted to.

Slamming their lips together, Kendall kissed him with a desperation he'd never known before, whimpers leaving him as he struggled to get closer. His hands pulled at dark hair, torso pressing against a broader one, as though if he tried hard enough, he could actually merge with the other man and they'd never be separated. But that wasn't a possibility, so he had to settle for what he could get, for clutching at the back of James' shirt as he wrapped arms around him and held him as close as he could, as tight as he could.

The singer protested at first, hands pushing at thin shoulders, but Kendall wasn't to be deterred, wasn't about to be pushed away. He needed James like air and there was no way he could be fine without the brunet in his life. In the short time they'd known each other, James had wound himself in Kendall's soul, had enmeshed himself so deeply that there was no way to pick the threads of him out, not without ripping every stitch holding the blond together and leaving him a broken mess on the floor. But there was no way to explain this, not with words and not without making himself seem weak and pathetic, so he was left with the only option of showing it, of putting things unable to be spoken into actions.

Slipping his hands to the older man's sides, Kendall clutched at his shirt and spun him around slowly, guiding him back to the bed. With a push to the chest, James was soon laying on his back across the mattress, the blond quickly laying over him. Kendall straddled his hips as he reconnected their lips, picking up where they had left off before his mom had interrupted, only with more ferocity and determination. Because it was no longer about a slow burn; this was a raging inferno that needed to be put out before it emblazoned them both and left them ashes scattered about in the ruins of their relationship.

"The fire grew, you fanned the flames..."

His hands grasped desperately at James' shirt, tugging, pulling, trying to get him closer, all the while his hips pressed broader ones into the mattress. He rolled his pelvis, grinding his crotch insistently into the other male's, creating a heated friction between their hardening dicks and the jeans covering them.

But it wasn't enough, was never enough. He needed James so much closer, needed all of him, everything he had, and for always. He needed the two of them melded into one, needed to breathe in his scent, needed to feel their skin pressed together as his own flesh caught on fire. He just...he needed him.

Whines escaped him, drowned out by the groans the singer was making. Their kiss was nothing more than lips hovering near each other as they exchanged pants, breathing erratic, huffed out against one another as they were both engulfed in flames. Kendall slipped his hands under James' shirt, fingers quickly finding hardened nipples, tweaking and rolling the nubs as his hips continued their motions down below.

An even louder groan made its way out James' throat, sounding harsh, nearly broken. His head tilted back, brown hair mussed by the pillow and not cared about, long neck exposed. Kendall took the offer and attached his lips to his throat, licking, biting, sucking, panting against tan flesh. He felt his own form trembling, shivers wracking his body, shaky hands sliding their way from his hips up his back. His shoulders were cupped from behind, pushing him down onto bucking hips, all rhythm lost.

All too soon, he felt the tenseness in thick muscles, felt a chest expand then stay that way, felt hips buck up and shake as his name was choked out. Kendall lifted his head just in time to see James' eyes burst open, his lips part as he panted out harshly, cheeks flushed red and skin covered in a barely there sheen of sweat. It took the blond a moment for his sex-fuzzed brain to figure out what had just happened before it all clicked into place.

Raising his torso slightly, he propped himself up on the broader male's chest, fighting the smirk threatening to form on his face. He waited until the brunet's breathing had evened out and he'd seemed to come back to himself before speaking, unable to help the teasing tone in his voice.

"Thought I was the teenager in this relationship," he joked, still barely managing to keep his face straight. "Yet you just came in your pants like one."

The glare that formed on James' face was what pushed him over the edge, huge grin spreading across Kendall's features as he bust out laughing. Being shoved off his boyfriend and onto his back on the bed only made it worse, legs curling up to his torso as he chuckled loudly.

"Shut up," the singer grumbled as he sat up, pout on his face as he scowled down at the younger male.

The Grumpy Cat look just further fueled the gigglefit, the noises only stopping when he let out a startled yelp as James yanked his legs down against the bed before laying himself over the leaner one.

"Guess I'll just have to make you shut up then," he commented lowly, devious smirk on his face, naughty glint in his dark eyes.

Kendall only had time to inhale sharply once before the brunet was leaning down and sinking his teeth into the weak spot at the side of his neck as his hair was pulled at the back of his head, forcing it back and exposing more of his throat. The teen let out a long groan, hips bucking, still hard cock throbbing inside his boxers as it reminded all that it was still there.

"Fuck," the blond breathed out. "You don't play fair."

"All's fair in orgasms and war," the older man murmured, licking along the side of Kendall's throat.

He swallowed hard, his hips bucking again, starting up their previous rhythm. "Pretty sure that's not how that saying goes," he argued, hating how his voice trembled.

James just shrugged as he continued his assault on Kendall's skin, now tugging at the neck of his shirt and nibbling along his collarbone.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he whined, hands on broad shoulders and pushing down, trying to direct the older man lower. His actions were met with a cocked eyebrow and a questioning look, dark eyes making him shiver. "You owe me a blow job," he stated with more conviction than he felt, proud that his voice was unwavering that time.

The singer snorted, head tilted down as he watched his own hands slide Kendall's shirt up his torso, exposing a pale stomach. "Don't remember agreeing to that."

"I agreed to it for you."

Another snort, but then hands were amazing and miraculously and awesomely at his belt buckle, unclasping it before working on the button and zip of his jeans. Lips dragged along his abdomen, sloppy open mouth kisses randomly pressed here and there along the flesh, making him tremble and whine. "God, you're beautiful," James whispered, almost as though it was more to himself than Kendall.

He wanted to argue, to say that James was the beautiful one and he was nothing more than pale skin over lanky muscles and too long limbs, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure if he was even supposed to have heard the sentiment, much less respond to it, and it felt like disagreeing with his boyfriend would ruin the moment and destroy this intimate little space they'd created, the KendallJames bubble they once again found themselves inhabiting. Besides, even if he wanted to argue, he couldn't. His mind was too far gone, body too worked up, and all he could even think about was getting something on and/or around his dick so he could finally, finally come.

Like the answer to a prayer he'd never sent up, he felt his cock gently being taken out through the slit of his boxers, precome smeared around the head and down the shaft. One stroke, two strokes, and Kendall was crying out.

"Fuck, James, please," he begged, not entirely sure what it was he was begging for. He just knew he needed, needed James and that he'd do damn near anything to make it happen. And keep happening.

Warm, wet heat enveloped the head of his cock and he gasped out in pleasure and relief. He looked down to see his fingers tangled in brown hair, his other hand grasping desperately at James' shirt, his dick disappearing into a mouth that held more talents than just singing. More of him slid inside, the hard flesh sucked on, like the brunet was just as desperate for Kendall. He felt fingers digging into his bare sides and he wondered if maybe it was true, maybe James needed him as badly as he needed James.

But then a tongue flicked the bundle of nerves under the head and then speared into his slit and stabbed into the top of his urethra and holy fucking shit!

"James!" he yelled out, body jacking up off the bed and curling over the brunet still sucking at him like he was a lifeline. He felt the pleasure coursing through his body and making every inch of him tremble and shudder, his orgasm shooting inside the other male's mouth and swallowed down.

Cock emptied, he flopped back onto the bed, shaking, breathing hard and erratically. He felt his cock being put away, flaps of his jeans closed over but not zipped up, James crawling up the bed to lay half on top of him. Kendall immediately gave in to the urge to wrap his arms around the other male, holding him close as possible. The brunet only tensed up for a brief moment before relaxing into the cuddle, returning the embrace as best he could as he nuzzled his head into the crook of Kendall's neck. Gripping the back of his shirt, the teen held the older male with a ferocity that almost scared him, a desperation that threatened to overtake him. Because as much as it may seem like James needed him, he knew he needed, wanted, craved, desired, required the brunet even more.

He didn't care if he was unlovable. He could love enough for both of them. God knew he was scared of the whole thing ending enough for them.

Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he fisted his fingers in the singer's shirt and held on tight, scared that if he loosened his hold even the slightest bit, the brunet would slip through his grip and never return.