Disclaimer: I do not know or own Big Time Rush or any other affiliated character, nor is any money being made. The show belongs to Nickelodeon and the boys belong to themselves.

Rated: T, but only because there is slash, and boyxboy kissing, but as far as things go it's pretty mild.

This is definitely a very fluffy and cute story written for the BTR kink meme. The original request was for a James/Carlos fic with the prompt: I like to imagine them writing cute things on each other in Sharpie. I don't usually ship James/Carlos, but this prompt was too adorable to pass up and my muses demanded I write it. So anon, if you happen to stumble across this, I think the prompt was absolutely brilliant and creative.

I know, I keep getting sidetracked by the Kink Meme and then I don't update my other stories for a really long time. This hasn't been edited yet, I'll probably do so at a later date, but sorry ahead of time for any mistakes.

Between Two Hearts

"No words are necessary between two loving hearts." ~Anonymous

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It started the first time James broke a bone.

Kendall accidentally pushed James too hard during one of their common wrestling matches. The eight year old tumbled backwards out of the tree house in Logan's backyard. Before anyone could stop it, James hit the ground with a thud, his wrist cracking on impact.

Kendall felt so bad, he offered to wait hand and foot on James, but the taller boy was still miserable. The plain, bland white cast clashed horribly with all of his outfits, the beauty king whined. And it itched.

The next morning before class, Carlos marched right up to the sullen boy, still sulking about his cast, and in giant blue letters, Carlos signed his name.

For some odd reason, which Carlos didn't understand at the time, it made James feel better and he hadn't complained about the atrocious blob plastered around his arm again.

When Carlos broke his ankle jumping from the roof of his house because he thought it would be a good idea, James was the first to sign his cast. And though he was very proud of the hulking mass bound to his leg, having James be the first one to cast his mark still brought a huge grin to Carlos' face.

He broke his arm in three places in sixth grade after attaching rockets to his skateboard. It wasn't a very good idea and he'd never felt such intense pain before, but the ride was definitely worth it.

It hurt, a lot, though. James caught him crying, a few tears slipping past his eyes because his arm burned in agony. The younger boy pulled a red sharpie out of his back pocket magically and in giant red letters, signed his name on the giant cast that covered Carlos' whole arm.

Carlos still can't explain it, still didn't understand it, but the pain eased and he felt a little better.

Even though dozens of people signed his cast, every time his arm hurt, all he had to do was look at the curvy letters of James' name and he instantly felt better.

James was only fourteen years old when he almost lost his mother. His mother was driving James home from a hockey game when a drunk driver smashed into the driver's side of their car.

It had been the scariest moment of Carlos' life. They had literally been in the car behind the Diamond car, just about to enter the intersection before the two cars collided in a loud squeal of metal and shattering glass.

Tires screeched along the pavement before both cars finally came to rest. Their small corner of the world instantly fell eerily silent. Officer Garcia instantly leapt from the car. Carlos' heart leapt in this throat and terror clung to him. He was so terrified he couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

It wasn't until he saw James standing next to the crushed remains of the car, bleeding and sobbing that Carlos finally ran from the car to comfort his friend.

James had been lucky. He escaped with a few stitches, a few cracked ribs from the seatbelt, heavy bruising and a concussion.

But Mrs. Diamond wasn't so lucky. After having a stroke because of her injures, Samantha Diamond died on the pavement, right in front of her son.

It was five, long agonizing minutes before the paramedics were able to bring her back to life and whisk her away to the hospital.

But for five whole minutes, she had been dead, for five long minutes, James' mother was gone. He really believed she wasn't coming back.

James sobbed in Carlos' arms the entire ride to the hospital, and even after Mr. Diamond finally arrived, James still clung desperately to him, refusing to leave the comfort of his arms.

For hours Carlos waited at the hospital with James, watching him and feeling miserable for being unable to help.

Carlos doesn't know why he did it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time, and he couldn't stand seeing James so upset. It always made them feel better in the past, so why not? He pulled a black sharpie from his mother's purse, and late in the morning, with the sun barely rising over the horizon, and the silence of the hospital waiting room nearly crushing them, in big, black, bold letters, Carlos wrote She's gonna be okay across the skin on James' arm followed by his signature and a smiley face.

The younger boy didn't get mad or upset. For the longest time James just stared at the signature written across his arm before a small smile graced his perfect lips. He crushed Carlos to his chest in a bear hug before plucking the Sharpie from his hands.

I know, James wrote on Carlos' wrist and in perfectly neat cursive just underneath that, Thank you.

After that, it became tradition. Whenever the other was injured, hurt, sad, or lonely, whenever one of them was feeling down, the other always had one hand to help them up, and in the other a sharpie was held.

A huge grin spread across Carlos' face as he absentmindedly rubbed a spot just above his inner elbow. It was on James' 16th birthday that the taller boy asked him out in that exact spot on his arm.

Despite it being his birthday, the beauty king was nervous, anxious and a little unsettled the entire time, but Carlos never stopped to question it.

They threw a surprise party because James would have protested if he'd known. He pretended to be happy, had a fake smile bright enough to fool most, but Kendall, Logan and Carlos were not foolish enough to be blinded by his lies. Long after all the guests said goodbye, Carlos was left alone with James. Mostly because Logan pushed Carlos towards James demanding he find out what was wrong with him before fleeing with Kendall.

He thinks Logan might have known.

A bright pink sharpie was the only thing Carlos had with him for he'd lost all the other colors, or accidentally put them through the wash staining all the clothes in that load and making his mother very angry.

As James turned away from him, he caught the taller boy's hand in his own, and in bright pink cursive, scrawled what's wrong? across the palm of his hand.

The birthday boy smiled sadly as he stared at the bright pink words on his hand.

I'm afraid to tell you, James wrote on the top of his hand with a yellow sharpie he pulled from his pocket.

Why? Carlos wrote across James' wrist.

You'll hate me, James hesitantly scribbled across his skin, the letters curving around Carlos' wrist.

Never, Carlos immediately wrote. There was nothing James could do that would ever make Carlos hate him. Even is James killed someone (and he knows James never would) Carlos would bury the evidence if the younger boy asked him too. Because…because he liked James, a lot, in a way different from the way he loved Logan and Kendall, and his parents and brothers and sisters. He'd done a lot of stupid things in his life trying to make the beautiful teen notice him, like attach rockets to his skateboard, but it never seemed to work.

Don't be so sure, James replied on his forearm.

Just tell me, Carlos begged, I promise not to get mad.

James twirled the yellow sharpie in his hand, biting his lip and staring so intensely at Carlos that it scared the young latino.

I love you, James wrote across his arm in hesitant, stuttered words. Carlos just stared at the words in confusion. He knew that already.

I love you, too.

No, James furiously scribbled, I'm in love with you.

Carlos heart leapt into his throat. Did James really love him that way? The proof was staring straight at him and it was impossible for him to have heard wrong, and there was no way to misinterpret the messy scrawl.

James was in love with him. A huge grin plastered across his face and he almost laughed in pure joy and relief. He hadn't gone unnoticed after all.

I'm in love with you, too, Carlos eagerly replied his neat handwriting swirling around James' elbow.

In James' eyes, he clearly read one word, one question. Really?

Really, Carlos' confident smile and slight nod gave the answer he didn't need to voice.

James grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. On the spot just above the inner part of his left elbow, having already filled his forearm with words, the taller boy scrawled in large letters, A date then? This Saturday?

Carlos fisted his hands in his boyfriends' (and the word still brings butterflies to his stomach) shirt and pulled the taller boy down. Their lips collided in their first kiss, and if the passion in the touch of their lips didn't scream YES then Carlos doesn't know what would.

That was almost six months ago and they had been happily in love since. It was hard, relationships were never easy. But they made a promise never to go to bed angry with the other and they always had a sharpie to say I'm sorry.

It was approaching dinner time one lazy Saturday night at the Palmwoods. Carlos had been charged with the duty of waking the younger boy, an often dangerous feat. The tallest member of the recently formed Big Time Rush hadn't been feeling well and after he puked his guts up all over the floor of the studio yesterday (much to Gustavo's annoyance), James had been confined to bed rest by Mrs. Knight.

Mrs. Knight wanted James to at least try to keep something down, so she ordered Carlos into their room to wake him up.

His boyfriend was utterly adorable when he slept and he didn't often get to admire James while he was completely vulnerable like this. His sleeping beauty was spread out on their bed, arms and legs sprawled out, clad only in his boxers. The sick teenager was having trouble sleeping last night, so Carlos stayed up late with him, scribbling words of love and silliness across the younger boy's chest.

Almost every inch of James' bare chest was covered in Sharpie. Carlos gently straddled the taller boy's hips, careful not to wake him and admired their artwork.

Just above James' left nipple were two tiny stick figures in black sharpie. One of them was holding a giant heart drawn in red, and giving it to the other. Below the stick figures James had written I love you more to Carlos in which the latino had childishly replied Not possible.

His thumb traced along the edges of his messy handwriting across James' stomach, you're the sexiest man alive, the words said followed by a winking smiley face. Carlos had written it teasingly, but he meant every word of it. There was no one he wanted, but James, and though he was young, he knew there would never be anyone else.

There was a giant circle around James' bellybutton with haphazard blobs that were supposed to represent the continents. On top of the Earth stood a stick figure drawing of Carlos, with a cape blowing in the wind and a helmet on his head that James had drawn. Next to the picture were the carefully written words you're my hero, and my whole word. In purple Sharpie, Carlos carefully added in Bandana Man holding hands with Super Carlos. Dito, he'd written in giant letters and underlined it four times. Anything is possible, as long as we're together, he added as an afterthought.

You're my one and only was James' response. One and only, Carlos echoed. Seeing those words still made his heart nearly explode with joy and happiness. He'd never thought such pure bliss could be found in another, but now that he'd found it, he was never going to let it go.

Carlos ran his hands lightly over the toned chest, across declarations of love and sketches of their affection for each other. He pressed a soft kiss to supple lips, hoping to awaken the exhausted teen from his nap. The younger boy didn't even stir.

A wicked smile spread across Carlos' face as he shimmied down, a sharpie in one hand and the hem of James' boxers in the other.

A hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist as groggy eyes slowly opened to blearily glare at him. If you write 'you're mine' on my dick again, we're gonna have problems, his frown warned. James knew him entirely too well.

What kind of problems? Carlos questioned with a quirk of his eyebrows and a slight smirk.

I think you already know the answer to that, James' grimace responded and Carlos had to laugh at that. Last time he wrote 'you're mine' in giant pink letters across his lover's dick, James refused to touch him until the sharpie wore off. It wasn't just no sex until it wore off, either. James refused to even hug or kiss him or display any signs of affection until the evidence disappeared.

Carlos was a horny teenager, that week hadn't exactly been fun for him, though James did not seem phased at all by the lack of contact.

Carlos leaned forward until his face was inches from James, lips just hovering above the other's lips. Never again, his eyes promised as he brought their lips together for a slow tender kiss.

A loud, confident knock interrupted their kiss. "It's time for dinner boys," Mrs. Knight demanded on the other side of the door. "I know you're not feeling well, James, but you need to try and eat something, honey."

Carlos sighed loudly. "We'll be right there, Mama Knight," he called out softly before resting his forehead against James'. James smiled up brightly up at him. Reluctantly, Carlos sat up, groaning in frustration as he did so. He slid off the bed and threw some clothes at his boyfriend.

James gave him a lopsided smile as he shakily slid his pants on, and threw his shirt on over the markings on his chest.

Carlos frowned as he watched the words and pictures disappear under the folds of his boyfriend's shirt, but he didn't need to see the reminder to know that James loved him, for it was written on his own arm.

Everyday, for as long as they had been dating, the same words were printed across his flesh just above his inner elbow in any color they had.

I love you.

And those were three words Carlos would never let wash away.