A/N: Hi! This just randomly popped into my head... I was in the mood to write something fluffy and pointless and very mildly upsetting, so I wrote this. It's mostly just fluff, with a little bit of angst, and, regrettably, no smut this time. I hope you like it!
I know you've been hurt
by someone else
I can tell by the way
you carry yourself
If you let me
here's what I'll do
I'll take care of you
Kendall Knight had dated an array of girls. All of them were beautiful, stunning really. All of them could flip their hair in a cute, flirtatious manner. All of them had the ability to work a spell over a guy.
Despite all of these common traits, there was one outlier in the group. One girl did not quite fit with the rest.
There was a whole crowd of sweet, innocent girls who had fallen for the leader of Big Time Rush, from Minnesota and Los Angeles. Carla, a cute British girl, with short, straight black hair and a button nose, had always been a favorite of everyone in the room. And Maggie, a girl with fiery red hair and a splash of freckles, made everybody laugh. Of course there was Jo, the greatest hit, charmer of them all.
Then there was Lucy Stone.
Lucy was different. Lucy was bold. Lucy was dangerous.
The other girls were pretty. Lucy was sexy. The other girls wore white eyelet dresses. Lucy wore shredded leather pants. The other girls giggled and waved. Lucy drew her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, refusing to lose eye contact with her target.
When Kendall had brought Lucy back to 2J and finally confirmed that she was his girlfriend, even calm, everything-is-okay Mama Knight was a little surprised. It wasn't anything personal against Lucy, really, she was just so... different. Kendall had never dated a girl who owned an ax-shaped guitar before.
Because Lucy didn't fit in with the other neatly filed Kendall girlfriends, the break up with Lucy didn't fit either. All of Kendall's previous relationships had ended with teary mutual agreements. Carla was so mobbed with schoolwork from all of her advanced classes, and Kendall was so busy with hockey, they never got to see each other. When Kendall was dating Maggie, a sudden move to Hollywood to chase his best friend's dream got in the way. Jo jetted across the globe thanks to the takeoff of her acting career. It was all for the best.
That explained why, James thought to himself, Kendall was a destroyed, sorrowful, broken heap of a guy sitting slumped on the orange couch. Just hours earlier, Kendall had strolled into Lucy's apartment and found her going wild on top of Guitar Dude. When she saw him, she pointed a long, elegant finger towards the doorway and informed Kendall that his services were no longer necessary, thank you very much.
Ever since Kendall and Lucy started going out, James had hated Lucy. Now that she had cheated on his best friend and dumped the poor guy on his ass, James really, really, hated Lucy.
At first, James was, of course, infatuated with her. However, he was no moron. While Carlos seemed to believe that Lucy was going to tie herself down with extension cords and give herself to him, James knew when his opportunity had come and gone. He also knew that Kendall's suave personality would win the unattainable girl over. He was right.
James did not hate Kendall for getting with Lucy. He hated Lucy for getting with Kendall.
"Do you want some ice cream, maybe a chick-flick marathon?" James offered, giving a gentle smile and a wide shrug.
There was a problem. James was clueless. He'd never been dumped before, not really, and had barely ever had a "relationship." James was a hookup kind of guy. He'd get home from a long night and drop a post-it note with a name and number scrawled on it in cute, bubbly penmanship in the trash, making a remark about how she'd never get a call, no matter how good she was.
"You can't have the best fuck of your life twice," he'd say, "You just gotta go out and find one to top it."
Thanks to his personal philosophy, he'd never felt the agony of having his heart wrenched out of his chest, of falling hopelessly, head-over-heels in love, of having to quiet that emotion because, let's face it, it's over.
He'd never admit to feeling that way. Not out loud, at least. But as he stood in the kitchen, gazing down at the stagnant expression on his best friend's pale face, he knew he felt it every single day.
"No," Kendall groaned, glumly declining the offer. He looked up and watched as James walked over towards the couch, a blanket in his arms. The blanket was promptly tossed over Kendall's thin body, which he hadn't even realized was cold until he felt the soft purple fabric against his skin. He felt James's arm wrap tightly around his shoulders, a big, strong, concrete force squeezing him tight and keeping him safe. He may have been discarded, vulnerable, and lost, but at least he had a foundation to keep him warm and comfortable.
"I'm glad you're here," Kendall mumbled, "I don't want the others to see me like this."
James looked at Kendall with bright, apologetic eyes, a gentle, none-too-eager smile played out across his lips.
"Why?" he asked, "You look fine." He ruffled Kendall's shaggy dirty blonde hair with his big hand, treating the broken boy with all the care in the world.
Kendall gave James a pitiful look, his eyes wide and red-rimmed, tears obviously being held back with all of his willpower. James just wanted to pull Kendall's head to his chest, tell him it was okay to cry, and that he would certainly find a way to get his revenge on that skanky, low-life bitch.
He was so close to Kendall, with his arm wrapped securely around Kendall's shoulders and Kendall's breath lightly brushing over the exposed skin of his shoulder, it was starting to get a little uncomfortable for James. He could feel a twitch where he really didn't want to feel anything, not at the moment, at least, and knew he needed a distraction. An excuse was necessary so he could get some space away from Kendall, before his jeans started to get tight. That would make the situation awkward for everyone involved.
"I know just what you need," James declared, pulling away from Kendall so he could make a grand, sweeping gesture with his left hand. He hopped up off the couch, and he could feel Kendall's eyes burning into his back as he crossed the room.
"You're sick," he stated plainly, "Heartsick. Now, when people are sick, others care for them. Do you know what those other people do for their sick peers, Kendall?" He folded his hands together and tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow at his friend to prompt him into a reply.
"I don't know, James," Kendall spread his arms apart, humoring James. He could even feel the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile as he watched James's elaborate, comical, overemphasized explanation. "Enlighten me."
"When one is sick," James explained, his tone proper and formal, "one's friends, family members, etc., make them soup. Chicken soup. It's the universal painkiller." He spun on his heel, turning his back on Kendall, and strode over to the small kitchen.
"I'm gonna make you some," James called out to his friend, "The can says it only takes five minutes."
Twenty minutes later, both boys sat on the couch holding burning hot ceramic bowls of soup. It burned their tongues, it took four times as long as predicted, and it didn't taste very good, but Kendall would remember it as one of the best meals of his life.
"What the fuck, James?" Kendall said, laughing, "I just ate a piece of chicken that was still cold!"
"How? The broth is hot as shit!"
"Hot, and bland," Kendall laughed, "What did you even put in this?"
"I put the stuff in the can in," James told him, "And some water, because it didn't look like there was enough for both of us. And then I added some salt... the people on T.V. always sprinkle salt. I didn't really read the can," he chuckled, shiny white teeth gleaming through the steam from his bowl, "I just saw the five minutes thing and decided to wing it from there."
"Only you could fuck up a can of soup," Kendall commented, slowly shaking his head. His face was split into a wide, genuine smile, and he was still laughing as he gestured towards the kitchen.
"Go get some pepper," he ordered, "Maybe that'll make it better."
James obeyed, setting his bowl down on the coffee table to retrieve the pepper grinder.
He came back moments later, holding the large, wooden instrument, and sat a back down next to his friend, who appeared to be feeling better. Handing the pepper grinder to Kendall, he watched as the blonde took it and turned the knob at the top, emptying some of the crushed spice out onto his soup. He then put some in his hand, smiling devilishly as he looked up at James.
"Do you remember that poem we read as little kids?" Kendall asked, his eyes gleaming with the happy memory, "Pepper. By Shel... Uh..."
"Silverstein," James finished for him, beaming at the thought, "Yeah, I remember. It's the one that tells the kids to always sprinkle pepper-"
"On their heads," Kendall cackled viciously, reaching forward and dumping his miniscule handful of pepper on top of James's head. He giggled and watched as James shook his head and the dust drifted to the floor. He looked like a shaggy dog that was shaking itself dry after a bath. A dog with unbelievably soft, shiny hair.
"Dude," James said, his tone intended to be harsh, but failing pathetically, "the hair."
"Yeah yeah," Kendall was still laughing, and he batted his hand toward James to wave him off, "Your hair's fine." James combed his fingers through his hair, trying to get as many tiny grains as he could out of it. He glared at Kendall, but it was a friendly, lighthearted, glare, not the kind one would expect to recieve after fucking with James's hair, the hair. The truth was, if it had been anyone but Kendall, they would've gotten a piping hot bowl of soup dumped on their head- or worse, their lap.
James grabbed the pepper shaker out of Kendall's hands, taking it for himself. He then proceeded to throw some pepper at Kendall's face, and he laughed loudly as Kendall coughed and sneezed and sputtered, the black powder making his eyes water and his throat itch.
"I hate you," Kendall choked out as he continued to sneeze. It hurt to laugh, but he couldn't help himself. He watched as James, still chuckling, stood up from the couch and picked up their disgusting, flavorless, burning bowls of soup and turned to carry them to the kitchen.
"You don't want this, do you?" James called over his shoulder, already knowing Kendall's answer. The smell of the pepper and watered-down broth filled James's nose, and he coughed as the steam entered his lungs when he poured the unwanted soup down the drain of the sink. He took a few minutes to clean up the mess he'd made, which was pretty sizeable considering the fact that it was just a can of soup.
By the time James returned to the living room, Kendall's reaction to the pepper had long faded, along with his laughter.
"Hey buddy," James greeted, internally cursing himself for leaving Kendall for too long when he saw that the bleak, damaged, and betrayed look had returned to his face. He sat back down on the couch, racking his brain for something witty to say so he could put a smile back on Kendall's face.
"You should've made her pinky swear," James finally said, raising one side of his mouth up into a half-smile. He wasn't so sure the comment was a good choice at first, but after a moment, he saw Kendall slowly and hesitantly begin to smile again.
"Yeah," Kendall swivled his head to the side, making contact with James's hazel eyes and examining the way his jawline turned to face the blonde, "I should've."
As kids, the two had pinky sworn on everything. They pinky promised to guard the other's Power Rangers lunch boxes with their lives, to save the last spoonful of peanut butter in the jar, or to let the other use the better bike next time. It didn't matter how minor the agreement was, once their little fingers hooked together, it was not to be broken.
The boys tried pinky swears with their additional two best friends, but it never really worked out the same way. Carlos always forgot or got too overexcited and ended up breaking the small promises, and Logan always over-analyzed the situation, working out complex terms and conditions like it was a contract. The pacts were best kept between James and Kendall.
They sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other, thinking about those times, words caught in their throats. There were still remnants of tears in Kendall's eyes, but he smiled fondly as he reminisced about their childhood. He wanted to be back there, young, under the clear and open skies of Minnesota, running around with his best friend, James.
In the living room of their apartment, the air seemed stale and suffocating, sudden tension filling the room and making the space between them seem small and cramped. It was as if something was tethering them there and not letting them move away from each other, not even a little, and the only thing they could do was come closer. Kendall, with his head still on an angle, looking at James, moved his face towards the other boy with painfully lethargic precision; the seconds slowed down so that the motion seemed to take forever.
James put a hand on Kendall's neck as soon as Kendall's lips reached his, and suddenly, time sped back up again. Kendall's lips were fast and hot and they tasted slightly of pepper as they rubbed against his own. A light tug of Kendall's teeth begged James to open his mouth. He did, and they exchanged tongues, the taste and sensation becoming more and more amplified with each motion.
Kendall's hand snaked around James's back and held on to the back of his wifebeater, and part of his just wanted to rip the shirt off. He could feel the friction of James's muscular thigh, clothed in gray skinny jeans, rubbing against his own, and James was already beginning to advance, his body poised over Kendall's as he gently forced Kendall backwards onto the large pillows of the couch.
"I promise I'll never hurt you like she did," James breathed, breaking out of the kiss for a split second. His head was angled in such a way so that the sunlight filtering through the window reflected through his eyes and made them glow more golden than hazel, and the shadow of his eyelashes fell in thin lines over his eyes, showing off the shiny glint when he blinked.
Kendall held out a thin, faintly trembling finger, and he bit his lip as he glanced at it.
"Pinky swear?" Kendall requested, smiling as he watched James's pinky hook around his to shake on it.
"Pinky swear," James confirmed. He lifted up his other hand to show that no fingers were crossed, just as they did when they were kids.
Moving his fingers, James wrapped his whole hand around Kendall's and pushed it back down onto the couch, smiling as he returned his mouth to the blonde's.
You won't ever have to worry
You won't ever have to hide
And you've seen all my mistakes
So look me in my eye
Drake feat. Rihanna
A/N: Hey! So, what did you think? Review if you liked it!