A/N:This is an AU fic, meaning BTR never existed and most of them aren't friends. It's the third part in a series, meaning you need to read the other fics first. Title from "Superstar" by Taylor Swift.

Rated M for language, explicit (and technically underage) sex, douchebaggery, emotional constipation, references to terrible parenting, being a bad friend, and references to underage drinking and drug use.

Thank you to everyone for being understanding in this taking so long. I honestly didn't think it'd be this far into the year before I finally got this up but I got stuck in a Sterek shaped hole and kinda didn't want out (SORRY SORRY!). Another thanks to Nath for reading this thing over when I was too lazy to proof it all that well, all the while we spammed James about pancakes. Stiles can't participate in shenanigans without Scott 3

Anyhoo, enjoy the fic! Lemme know whatcha think! *mwahs*

Kendall Knight wasn't all that religious. He wasn't really much of a believer in anything really. Hard to be when your birth dad bails on you when you're a tiny baby and your step-dad leaves because you think you might be gay. Plus there were terrorist attacks, pedophiles, murderers, rapists, diseases, natural disasters, all kinds of shit that made the world a terrible fucking place. It all made it hard to think that there was an all-powerful being up in the sky that loved people and considered them his favorite creation.

However, there were times when he thought maybe Heaven could possibly exist. And laying on his back on a hotel bed, totally blissed out from a fourth round of sex within a twelve hour period, the cause of his orgasms laying on his stomach next to him, he thought that maybe that was Heaven itself.

Turning his head, Kendall looked at the gorgeous, possible deity laying fucked out next to him. His skin was an even tan that went almost all over, a small sliver of lighter skin exposed from where the sheet lay low over his perfect ass. Long lashes lay over high cheekbones, lids hiding eyes that were about fifty shades of green and brown all swirled together. A strong jaw lay on the pillow, kiss-swollen lips curved up in a small smile, and his brown hair was mussed up from a combination of sex and sleep. Further down, the blond could see scratches on a sculpted back, arms corded with thick muscles laying over his own lean torso, the tan more evident against his pale skin. The man was pure perfection in a six-foot package, the star of countless fantasies by females—and males—worldwide, an international pop star with numerous platinum records and top ten hits.

And he was all Kendall's.

James. Fucking. Diamond.

It was hard to believe that a huge celeb like James would be interested in a lowly Minnesotan teenager like Kendall, yet he was. Sure, their relationship hadn't been easy, their path to actually being boyfriends filled with more ups and downs than a Six Flags theme park. But they made it, were together, an actual official couple. Granted a couple on the downlow since the singer was still closeted, but still. An actual couple. Kendall had somehow managed to land the hottest guy on the planet and have the guy wanna be with him in a committed relationship.

What the fuck was his life?

He ran his fingers through brown locks, scratching the back of James' head and relishing the pleased groan he got in response, the way the elder male moved his head to get more contact. He loved moments like this, when it was just the two of them, no fans or press or intrusive members of inner-circles—his own friends and family included. It was as though the entire world boiled down to just him and James and the bed they were sharing, the air they were breathing.

Just sucked it was gonna be over soon.

Downside of dating a celeb: you had to share them.

Kendall wasn't one for sharing.

But as he saw the other male's lips curve up into a bigger smile, felt a muscular body undulate against his lean one, he figured he could learn. If for no other reason than it meant moments like this could happen more often.

And the moments before when James was simultaneously on top and inside of him. After all, he was a teenage boy, complete with raging hormones, a boner-on switch with a hair trigger, and a boyfriend who could make him come from his voice alone.

Kendall moved his hand down, fingers scratching at the brunet's neck, lower onto the musculature of his back. Barely there nails gently scraped up and down the smooth skin he found there, feeling the raised skin of earlier scratches. He trailed his fingers as low as he could reach, feeling over the flesh of his ass that peeked over the sheet, the skin warm and sensitive from when Kendall had slapped it, demanding the other male go harder, faster, pound his ass. He squeezed the globe, fingertip lightly trailing between the crack and just barely tapping at his hole. A hole only Kendall had ever been inside.

Just the thought was enough to make him shudder, make his dick twitch in a valiant effort to get hard, despite his body being bone deep exhausted and his balls more than likely completely empty.

James breathed out a low moan, writhing against the leaner male, head burrowing into a pale chest. His arm wrapped tighter around the younger one, pulling him closer, tighter, lips parting to let out a shaky exhale. The teenager felt the shiver that raced over the singer's body, felt his own lips quirk up at the corners in a lazy grin.

"No more," James groaned, voice rough, and Kendall had an absent thought about how it was lucky his tour was over. No way could he sing sounding like that.

A small chuckle left the blond on a gust of air, his chest jostling the elder male who simply nuzzled further into him. "You act like you were the one getting your ass pounded."

"Pretty sure you asked for it. Literally." The words were muffled against bare skin, but the teenager was still able to understand him. "Besides, you're younger and have a better stamina than me."

"That's right," Kendall replied softly, almost distantly, as his hand shifted back to the other male's head, fingers absently running through brunet locks. "I keep forgetting you're an old man."

That had James' head shooting up, hazel-green eyes narrowed in a glare. Despite the scowl—or maybe because of—Kendall's breath was still taken away by the man before him. His cheeks were red, flushed, jaw covered in beard burn due to the blond's recent lack of shaving. His skin glowed, shiny with sweat, his bangs sticking to his forehead. His lips were kiss-swollen, blurred red, a slight bruise on the bottom one where Kendall had gotten too carried away during round two—or maybe it was three—and had bitten slightly too hard. James hadn't complained.

Not until after anyway when he'd gone to the bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean them both off and he'd gotten a look in the mirror, returning with threats about how lucky the blond was that he didn't have a photoshoot coming up.

The numerous hickeys on his chest, shoulders, and neck, he admitted, could be covered by make-up and/or clothing.

Kendall had smirked, proud of the way he'd marked his boyfriend up, while internally demanding that James be clothed at all times. Except when in bed with the teenager. Duh.

No one got to see any of that. Only Kendall.

He wondered if it was too early to be this possessive over a guy. Then he decided he didn't give a fuck.

"I'm not old," James argued, still scowling, voice a gravelly rumble. A very sexy gravelly rumble. "Twenty-two is not old."

"It's ancient," Kendall teased, smirking, dimples displayed through short whiskers. His fingers continued to play with the hair on the back of the other male's hair, feeling the sweat still clinging to the chestnut locks and resisting the urge to just shove his nose in it and just smell. He wasn't a fucking werewolf or some shit.

Although that would be cool.

The brunet rolled his eyes and he snorted. "Say that in five years when you're this age."

Kendall wanted to point out that it would only be about four years, that his birthday was coming up in a couple months, but kept his mouth shut, if for no other reason that it would possibly add to James' argument. Besides, no need to point out the fact that they'd technically spent the night before engaging in illegal activities—repeatedly. And it wasn't like it was the first time Kendall had done something that was frowned upon in the eyes of the law, and really, it was no biggie, since they were currently in Minnesota where he was of age, but still. Pointing out the age gap and the fact that they couldn't fuck in all fifty states yet—which he mentally added to his bucket list—was kind of a no-no.

And at the moment, Kendall was actually all about behaving and avoiding the no-nos.

He seriously needed to stop using the term "no-no". He was seventeen, not fucking seven.

"In five years, you'll be even more ancient," he argued back, his own voice feeling a little rough. Understandable really when he thought about how at one point he actually screamed.

Which he is still in denial about.

Because it hadn't actually happened and James is a filthy liar who plays dirty and preys on one's weaknesses. With his teeth.

Which brought Kendall back to the whole werewolf thing...

He needed to stop thinking about werewolves. Or stop watching "Teen Wolf".

His mind flashed through all the shirtless guys the show featured and, no, he wasn't gonna stop watching it.

Not that he was addicted to the drama, the supernatural elements, the suspense, the terror—more denial. He just appreciated a good six-pack.

As evidenced by the ripped male he was currently sharing a bed with.

James frowned at Kendall's comeback, hazel-green eyes narrowing as they locked onto green ones, the glare intensifying at the sight of the blond's growing smirk of victory. Whatever. Wasn't Kendall's fault James was a sore loser and couldn't handle him having a good point.

Which he clearly did.

The brunet opened his mouth to argue, only to be cut off by his iPhone alarm sounding out. Still halfway laying on top of the leaner male, he leaned over and grabbed it from where it sat on the nightstand, killing the obnoxious noise with a sigh.

The teenager withheld a sigh of his own, smirk disappearing as his face fell. It was an hour and a half until his early-morning curfew, and while he was thankful as fuck to his mom for giving him the night off from being grounded and allowing him to spend time with the guy he was falling—had fallen? Maybe? Whatever—for, it was a knife to the chest when he realized it was nearly over. He had no idea how long James had planned to be in town, when he needed to go back to LA, and during their time together, he hadn't thought to ask.

Mostly because his mouth had been otherwise preoccupied, but that wasn't really the point.

No, the point was that his time with James was nearly over. Kendall would get dropped off at his place and James would...well, would go somewhere, the blond wasn't sure. And with the pop star's crazy tour schedule and hectic life, who the fuck knew when they'd be together again, when they'd be face-to-face without the aid of a webcam, when they'd be able to talk without a cell phone being involved. It could be months before Kendall would be able to get one-on-one time in the singer's presence.

Assuming he was ever ungrounded and actually managed to graduate high school and fully got his shit together.

Basically, a miracle needed to happen.

Dropping his head, James nuzzled into the crook of Kendall's neck, inhaling deeply as the younger male wrapped his arms around the elder, holding him close. His fingers still played with the brunet's hair, memorizing the feel, the texture, the way it slid between his digits. Pictures helped with the look, remembering the length and the color and the way it was swept to the left whenever James did that head flip thing he was prone to doing whenever his bangs started to get in the way of his eyes. But everything else couldn't be captured that way, making those things easier to forget. The scent of James; how smooth his skin was everywhere except his palms, roughened from daily weight lifting; the way he'd shiver and choke out a gasp when a finger was rubbed over his nipples; the exact feel of his muscular frame pushing Kendall's leaner one into the mattress or the wall or wherever the hell he wanted the teenager to be.

Kendall didn't wanna forget a single detail.

He was terrified it would happen anyway.

James was the first one to move after a long moment of silence that consisted of nothing but them clinging to one another, neither seeming to wanna let the other go. He raised his eyes, apologetic expression on his face, eyes turned down at the corners.

"We need to go shower," he said lowly, reluctantly, not wanting to acknowledge what they both knew: that their time together was almost over and they were about to go one step closer to yet another goodbye.

Kendall wondered how many would happen between them.

He quickly decided he didn't wanna know.

Besides, the hellos always made the goodbyes worth it, no matter how much they hurt at the time or how lonely one became between the separation and the reunion. Because the hello meant they were together, and the togetherness was what kept them both going.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, knowing they were just delaying the inevitable. Putting off getting up and going to the shower would accomplish nothing, except an embarrassing moment with his mom as he greeted her and tried to pretend he didn't have come on his stomach and lube in his ass and that he didn't reek of sex.

That was one first he never wanted to experience. Ever. At all.

That thought in mind, Kendall rose to a sitting position, the action causing James to move as well. The two of them got to their feet, the blond reaching his arms above his head and ignoring the slight burn in his ass, instead focusing on the good version of the same sensation as his muscles stretched. The brunet playfully slapped a hand to his stomach, causing him to glare at the pop star, the action intensifying at the chuckle he got in response.

"C'mon, cutie," James goaded, reaching out and taking hold of Kendall's hand as he dropped both to his sides. "You wash my back and I'll wash your's."

"You just don't wanna wash yourself. Lazy ass diva," he replied with a smirk, tangling his fingers with the other male's, relishing the differences in their skin both physically and aesthetically. It was another thing he was gonna miss when he was gone, how soft James' skin always seemed to be, especially when compared to Kendall's.

"Di-vo," the brunet corrected, rolling his eyes and huffing as he rounded the end of the bed, pulling a willing teenager behind him. "Seriously, when are you guys gonna get that shit right?"

Kendall stumbled over a pair of discarded jeans—his own, judging by the chains tangled up in the denim—smirk slightly falling as he righted himself, fingers tightening their hold on the other male's. "Probably 'bout the same time you stop fucking calling me 'cutie'."

The singer muttered out a "never gonna happen" as he entered the bathroom, releasing Kendall's hand while he made his way to the shower.

The metal-head shut the door behind them—more outta habit than necessity really—and leaned back against it. His legs still felt like jello and he felt physically exhausted after a long night of sex and napping.

So much for teenage libido.

His eyelids drifted down and he didn't bother stopping them, exhaling audibly through his nose as he slumped. He heard the sounds of the shower curtain being pushed back, the rumple of vinyl and the clanging of metal rings, followed by the water being cut on. It wasn't long before the steam from the shower made itself known, filling the small room with its warmth and making him feel even more boneless. He felt his knees start to give as his back slipped down the door a couple inches, gravity trying to pull him down. He was just about to give in when a hand grabbed hold of his wrist, gently tugging him up.

Kendall opened his eyes to see a smiling James holding him, guiding him closer, until the two of them were connected from thigh to chest. A lazy grin spread across the blond's features, arms loosely draping themselves over broad shoulders, forehead resting on another. He found himself wishing his legs weren't so tired, that his toes weren't so sore, that his entire body wasn't so...okay, he was too tired to think of the word to describe how he was feeling. Fucked-out? Maybe?

But no matter what, he wished he wasn't so... that so he could stand there in James' arms forever. Because all too soon, it was gonna be over.

Fuck.

James wrapped his arms around the leaner male's waist, kissing his forehead and letting his lips linger, thumbs rubbing the small of his back in soothing motions. Kendall's eyes closed once more and he inhaled deeply, relaxing under the touch and scent of the other male. He didn't know when he'd turned into such a cheesy romantic asshole, but all he really needed in life was the brunet.

Well, that, plus a shower.

They broke apart from their embrace at the same moment, both stepping into the shower, James allowing Kendall first turn under the spray. The blond relished the feel of the hot water sluicing down every inch of him, washing away various bodily fluids from previous activities. Eyes closed, he tilted his head back, sighing contently as the water slid over his skin, rasping over the scruff on his cheeks, chin, and jaw, collecting on his collarbone before dripping further down.

He heard the pop of a cap and the squirt of something before he felt the washcloth on his torso. His eyes shot open and he looked down to see James washing his chest in wide circles, the action relaxing. He didn't bother trying to fight the small smile that slowly turned up the corner of his lips, leaning back so his shoulders and head were resting against the shower wall, letting the other male wash him.

James methodically washed the leaner male's chest, abdomen, obliques, before starting on his back. Kendall straightened up then, pressing himself into the other male's broader frame, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his hands on strong shoulder blades, kissing the swell of a shoulder before resting his cheek on it, eyes closing again as he leaned into his boyfriend.

God, his boyfriend. He didn't think he'd ever get used to using that term.

He didn't think he'd want to.

Sweet kisses were pressed to his damp hair, his neck, his shoulder, the actions tender rather than arousing, as they had been only moments before. The cloth washed his back, rubbing, circling, and lulling the teenager into a sense of calm and peace he hadn't felt in ages.

Until it got to his hole.

Kendall hissed, pressing himself closer to the larger male, fingers clawing at his back as he tried to get away from the unpleasant feeling. James stilled against him, cloth on a cheek of his ass, unmoving. The blond calmed, breathing out a swear as he relax, lifting his head to meet concerned hazel-green eyes and worried tilt of kiss-swollen lips.

"I'm okay," he reassured, the corner of his own lips turning up. "A li'l sore, but okay. Just shocked me is all."

The singer's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, nodding, believing what the other male was saying.

And it'd been the truth. Kendall wasn't hurting as much as he had been the previous weekend, probably because he hadn't waited so long to get fucked again.

A small worry nagged at the back of his head, a fear that he had no idea when the two of them would be together again and that in all possibility he was in for another long dry spell and then he'd be hurting again when they were finally reunited and—

And he needed to fucking slow his roll.

Seriously.

It wasn't gonna be that bad. The two of them had already participated in phone sex—which, holy fuck, James' voice wasn't just talented for singing—and Kendall was sure it wouldn't take too much work to upgrade to Skype sex. He'd just keep himself stretched with his fingers, make sure that when he finally had the singer alone and naked again, he was adequately prepared and ready for the rough pounding they both seemed to enjoy so much.

A rough pounding he needed to stop thinking about, because now his dick was getting ideas and he seriously just couldn't have any more sex.

Was that even possible?

Seriously, where the fuck had his teenage stamina gone?

Framing the brunet's face, Kendall kissed him sweetly, feeling the other male relax with the action, kissing back. Their lips moved in a well-practiced rhythm, both lost in the joining. And when the cloth rubbed at his entrance again, he didn't hiss or flinch or react in any way, except to press back against it and welcome the new invasion.

Apparently his libido just needed a breather and was roaring back to life.

James didn't tease, didn't rub, didn't press. He cleaned Kendall's hole, taking care not to hurt him or cause any further discomfort.

Their kiss ended so the brunet could kneel down, washing the blond's legs and feet one at a time, allowing the teen to use him for balance. Body clean, he rose to his feet, thoroughly washing the leaner male's hair before gently turning them around, putting himself under the spray.

Kendall grabbed for the washcloth, only to have it taken out of his hand, a quick kiss pressed to his lips.

"Just sit and relax. I got this."

The blond was too tired to argue, shuffling back a step or two before he hit the seat built into the shower. He sank down onto it, leaning back against the wall and shutting his eyes again. It seemed like he'd just gotten settled when the water was shut off, hands on his waist as he was helped up and out the shower.

They dried each other off, exchanging kisses every now and then. Kendall tried not to think about how incredibly domestic the whole thing seemed, failing as his mind conjured up images of them five, ten, fifteen years in the future, still showering together and helping each other dry off inside the bathroom of their own home. He thought about discussions of what their days were gonna hold, James talking about a song he was working on and Kendall bringing up...well, whatever the hell his job was gonna be. He hadn't quite figured that out. But he could still picture the normalcy of the whole thing, how everyday it would seem for them. Just two men in love, showering together as part of a morning routine before heading down to make breakfast as a pair, one cooking the eggs as the other handled the coffee.

It was never gonna happen. But it was nice to dream it, even if for a moment.

Not long after they got out the shower, the two of them were dried off and Kendall flopped the towel he'd been using over James' head, ruffing his hair and smirking.

"Dude! Not the hair!" the pop star protested, reaching up blindly to try and grab the towel.

The blond just laughed, even as the towel was ripped away from his grasp and a pissed off brunet was revealed. Instead, he just reached up and ruffled his hair with his hand.

"What? I like this look on you," he joked around, putting chestnut locks over hazel-green eyes, making the rest stick up in every direction possible, still chuckling in amusement.

"Oh, you are so dead," James practically growled, eyes narrowed at the younger male. He lunged, reaching out to take hold of the leaner male, only for Kendall to jump back out the way.

The teen kept laughing as he ran out the bathroom, past the kitchenette and living area, past the dividing screen, and into the bedroom part of the suite. He barely made it before he was tackled onto the bed from behind, letting out an "oomf!" as a hundred and eighty pounds of muscle landed on top of him.

"Asshole," James grumbled as he ruffed the blond's hair, his actions more agitated than the playful way Kendall's had been. It only served to make the younger male laugh more, which just spurred the elder one more, practically shoving his face onto the mattress.

"You love it," the teen retorted—at least he was pretty sure that had been his reply, considering his words were muffled against rumpled sheets—wiggling his ass against the other male's crotch for good measure.

The action made the singer moan, stopping what he'd been doing and burying his face in the metal-head's shoulder. "Fuck, Kendall," he breathed out harshly, the words ghosting over pale skin.

A shiver raced down Kendall's spine, causing his entire body to shudder and his eyes to drift closed. Fingers gripped at the sheet, teeth digging into his body lip as he felt hips pressed back against his ass, a long cock rubbing between his cheeks, so close to where it'd been, to where he was still stretched and open. Without giving his body the command, his own hips started moving, humping down on the mattress and back against the other male's. The action was met with a similar one, the two of them moving together in a rhythm just like one they'd been participating in only hours before.

A groan sounded out and the blond had no idea if it came from him, from his boyfriend, from both of them. His bottom lip popped out from between his teeth, a harsh breath forcing its way out from between his parted lips, his spine arching so that his stomach was pressed into the bed and his ass was rubbing against the other male. He felt his cock twitching, giving a valiant effort to fill and swell, to gear up for one more round before the couple parted ways for fuck knew how long.

Only for an alarm to go off.

"Seriously, with your fucking phone?!" Kendall snapped, head popping up from the bed and glaring in the direction the sound from hell was emanating from.

James sighed, getting up from the bed and making his way around to the nightstand on the other side. The blond muttered curses at Apple and whoever the fuck created alarms in the first place, flopping over onto his back and glaring at the ceiling as though it was responsible for the annoying beeping filling the room.

"We need to go, don't we?" he wrapped up mildly, thumb and forefinger digging into the corners of his eyes.

"Yeah." The reply came out on a low breath, barely audible, and Kendall recognized it as James' "I don't wanna say this, but I'm going to anyway" tone. Something inside the blond fluttered at the thought that the elder male was just as reluctant for them to be parted as he was, only to be trampled down by the realization that, oh yeah, they were about to leave each other.

Again.

Godfuckingdammit.

Huffing, Kendall sat up, slapping his hand on his bare thigh. He knew he should be grateful, should be thankful that his mom gave him permission to spend the night with his boyfriend—despite being older and Kendall being both underage and grounded—that his boyfriend was even in town in order for them to be together in the first place, that he was able to call James his boyfriend at all. But he still couldn't help but feel cheated at the fact that their time together was so short, that the moments being apart outnumbered the ones spent with each other.

Guess the old adage was right. One really couldn't have it all.

Ignoring the tightening in his chest, Kendall rose to his feet and shuffled over to his bag, snatching out his clean clothes and getting dressed. If he was gonna be forced to say goodbye to James, he wanted to get it over with and do it quickly.

There was a reason why one ripped band-aids off quickly.

The car pulled into the driveway of the Knight residence at 8:55 exactly, giving them five minutes to say goodbye before Kendall would get in trouble for being late. James put the rental in park, killing the engine and taking his hand off the keys, leaving them in the ignition.

Neither of them moved.

It was like the hotel all over again, when they both knew they needed to just get up and get in the shower. Only now it was get out the car and go their separate ways. But neither of them seemed to be able to do that, both sitting perfectly still, the interior of the car silent, just like he had been on the drive over.

Well, the drive over had the engine rumbling, gears shifting, and the subtle sound of James' rubbing his thumb over Kendall's hand where the two held their hands clasped on the center console.

The blond lowered his head, seeing his recently released hand laying limp on his lap. His palm was both sweaty and cold, skin tingling with the phantom sensation of a thumb rubbing over it. He was gonna have to get used to that, used to feeling things that weren't really there, struggling to remember how exactly he'd been touched and the precise way it felt to him. It was only a matter of minutes before he'd no longer have it for an unknown amount of time.

The realization of that had his chest going tight and he lifted his hand to rub between his pecs, feeling like a moron for thinking that it would do anything to ease the ache that had settled there. Really, the only thing that could cure his pain was the six-foot stunner to his left.

The six-foot stunner who was sighing in a mix of acceptance and reluctance as he smeared a hand over his face roughly.

Kendall turned and stared out the windshield, barely registering the white garage door in front of him. His entire body felt numb, sounds far away, and he was only vaguely aware of someone talking. It took him longer than he cared to admit for him to realize he'd been the one speaking.

"I should head in."

James' eyes were fixated on the center of the steering wheel, his hands cranked down around the wheel in a white knuckle grip as he nodded absently. And it wasn't like either of them could really argue with that statement. Kendall had a curfew, a pretty generous one considering the other circumstances of his life, and there was no way he could break it. Not without igniting the wrath of a fiery red-headed maternal unit anyway.

He was all about avoiding that those days.

Kendall nodded, head bobbing loosely on his neck, feeling too heavy to do anything but just let it continuously move up and down. Earlier thoughts of ripping band aids off came back and he decided to just get shit over with, to just get out the car and go, no hesitating, no looking back. Determination set in and he grabbed hold of the door handle, pulling it to open the door.

"Kendall?"

His name came out a harsh whisper and the broken way the two syllables were spoken cut him deep. Releasing the handle, he turned his head, swallowing hard to brace himself for the painful image he was about to see in the driver's seat.

Only he never got a chance to see anything.

James moved quickly, body surging towards the blond's like a tidal wave, hand wrapping around a slim neck and pulling him close. Their mouths clashed together before Kendall's mind could catch up, lips smashed between teeth in a kiss than was more pain than anything. A quick readjustment of their heads, a slight tilt to the side, and soon the kiss was more of lips moving together than being squashed and cut.

Kendall breathed harshly through his nose, trying to move closer as fingers carded through his hair at the back of his head. His own hands reached up, grabbing hold of the gray beanie the other male was wearing, the beanie that was originally the blond's, the beanie that was now a staple in the singer's daily outfit. A rush of pleasure and possession raced through him at that thought and he struggled to move closer, silently cursing whoever decided center consoles should be a thing.

Lifting his ass from the seat, he pressed in even closer to the elder male, their lips slotting together perfectly, moving in a rhythm they both knew and loved. He could feel a tingling sensation throughout his entire body, radiating from his lips, a burning heat where James gripped onto his bicep through his Henley top. His dick was twitching in his jeans, still stretched hole spasming, and all he could do was focus on the sensations, on the feel of having the other male kiss him that way, the rush it created throughout his whole being, the dizzy drunk feeling he experienced in his swirling mind.

A low groan filled the car and Kendall had trouble trying to figure out which one of them made the sound, if it even mattered. His body was heating up and all he could think about was how easy it would be to squeeze between the two front seats to slide into the back. James might have a problem, having a wider, more muscular build, but shit, they'd make it work. Anything to get them both naked and the elder male inside him once more.

The thought of such an act had him moaning, lips parting, breath harsh against the other male's lips. A tongue that wasn't his own lapped at his bottom lip and he lowered it more, reaching out with his own wet muscle to tentatively touch against the tip of the other, the sensation causing a shiver to race down his spine. The tingle got worse as he thought of other places that tongue had been, along his neck, down his chest, up his cock, in and around his hole. God, he wanted—no, needed it there again and would do damn near anything to make it happen. But really, more than anything, he just needed that skin to skin contact and the physical assurance that the two of them were made for each other, that they worked well together, that they belong with one another.

James must have been thinking along the same lines, if the way his grip on Kendall became more desperate was anything to go by. He groaned, tongue sliding inside the blond's mouth, fingers tugging on scraggly locks as he pressed in closer. It was like he was trying to crawl inside the younger male, to have them be more than just pressed against one another. And the teenager had zero issues with it.

The knock that sounded on the window, however, he had several issues with.

The singer froze, entire body tense and rigid, before releasing the younger male and pulling away. Kendall sat there in a daze, eyes barely seeing James wiping his lips and putting on an awkward smile as he turned to the person standing outside his car door.

Kendall's mom.

Oh.

Fuck.

James cleared his throat, rolling the window down, giving them both a good view of the redhead as she stood with her lips pursed and twisted to the side and her brow drawn. Her arms were folded over her pink bathrobe and despite the bulky size of it, Kendall just knew she had a hip cocked out. It was her usual "I just busted you and you have five seconds to explain what the fuck you've been up to and so help you if you lie" body position, one he'd seen far too often and was hoping to avoid.

There went that whole goal.

"Good morning, Ms. Knight," James greeted her, voice full of false cheer, years of pretending he was happy in the public eye making him pretty damn good at it.

But she wasn't buying any of it, her facial expression becoming more dubious as she let out a disbelieving "uh huh" before turning her green eyes on her son. Kendall couldn't return the gaze, his own orbs focused on watching his fingers twiddle and tangle on his lap. "I came down to see if you were home yet and then saw the car pull in the driveway," she explained, tone brokering no bullshit from anyone. Even James shifted under the intensity of her words, Kendall barely able to hide the wince at the realization that, yeah, his mom had just busted him making out with his boyfriend.

Jesus, even his mom catching him in the act wasn't enough to quell the excited skip in his heartbeat at that term.

Boyfriend.

"I was wondering when and if you two were gonna come inside."

"We were just saying goodbye," Kendall clarified, voice rough and low, hating the fact that it was the truth. Granted a more parent-appropriate version, but the truth nonetheless.

She cocked an eyebrow, a skill her son had inherited—and then some—before saying another "uh huh". "Just get inside. I'm about to make breakfast," she ordered, arms dropping to her sides. "And James," she began, voice now sweet, sugary smile on her face. The look was a genuine, if not slightly intimidating, one and Kendall wondered how she was able to switch from pissed to friendly so fucking quickly. "You are more than welcome to join us."

"Thank you, Ms. Knight," the pop star replied, nervous smile of his own playing on his lips.

She kept up her own small grin, turning the look onto her son before spinning on a fuzzy slipper and heading inside.

The two males continued to sit in the car, James rolling the window back up before turning to his passenger. "Should I be scared?" he questioned, head flipping to Kendall, brow furrowed in confusion and slight worry. "Like, should I prepare myself for an interrogation from your mom about what my intentions are with her son, random discussions about how she knows tae kwon do, scary commentary on how she's seen 'Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels' and knows how to properly hide a body, shit like that?"

Kendall's lips parted, but no words came out. All he could do was shrug and shake his head, hand smoothing down the hair at the back of his head. "Honestly? No clue. Never brought a boyfriend home before." He didn't bother adding that he'd never had a boyfriend to bring home in the first place. James already knew that.

The brunet nodded, taking the info in before inhaling deeply and blowing it out through his nose in a rush. "All right," he stated, seeming resolved. "Let's go then."

The teenager nodded, knowing there wasn't anything else to say or do, other than getting out the car. He did just that, hearing the driver's side door shut as he grabbed his duffel out the backseat. The doors locked with a dull thud, James waiting for Kendall to reach him before they walked side by side up the walkway towards the front door. He wanted to reach out and grab the singer's hand, to draw strength from feeling those long fingers tangled with his own, but held back, knowing the action wouldn't be welcome in public. Not that it mattered all that much. He could deal with no PDA, could deal with keeping things quiet, could deal with not being able to tell anyone outside of his tiny inner-circle about their relationship. After all, he had James.

Hand on the front doorknob, he turned and looked at the other male, noticing his hazel-green eyes lighting up and his lips curving into a small, genuine smile he only ever wore around Kendall. Yeah, he could definitely deal with keeping things quiet in public, as long as he got to call James his boyfriend and hold onto him in private. It was more than worth the trade-off.