So it's been years since I've written, but I just haven't been able to shake this story out of my head. I know it's not the greatest so if you have constructive criticism, I'd love to hear it.

This whole deal is loosely inspired by Breathe Carolina's "Hell is What You Make It" album. Each chapter comes from a song. This chapter's song is "Waiting". Give it a listen if you can.

Not sure how often I'll be updating as I'm not sure if I can write it in order, but I'll do my best.

Here goes.

The club thrummed with energy from the low bass of the music. Colored lights flashed through the hazy air over the head of the crowd. The bodies on the dance floor writhed in one fluid mass of shimmering lamé and sequins.

This was not what Kendall Knight had in mind when he looked up where he could get a drink near his hotel.

It was his first night in this town, his first night on the West Coast. The move had been a surprise. He thought he'd live his whole life in Minnesota, finishing out his hockey career on their team. But when presented with the opportunity to join the immensely talented California team, with a significant raise in pay, he knew he couldn't pass it up. And just like that, everything changed.

And all he wanted was a freaking drink to cope with how different it all was.

He clutched his whiskey tighter as someone took the seat next to him. This was exactly what he was dreading. He had wanted a nice, quiet dive bar. Someplace that would be dead at this hour so he wouldn't have to deal with drunk college girls draping themselves all over him.

"I'll have what he's having." It was, to Kendall's surprise, a deep voice that spoke. He turned his head and peered at the body beside him.

No freaking way.

The man smiled at him.

"Nice shoes."

Kendall glanced down reflexively. He wasn't a stylish man by any means, favoring flannels and graphic tees over button-ups and blazers. But he did allow himself one vanity and that was his shoes. That night he was wearing the latest Buster Clyde sneakers.

"I'm James," the brunette continued, as if there was any way Kendall could not know who he was.

He wasn't just any James, he was James freaking Diamond – only one of the world's most widely known actors. And he was definitely taller in person, his smile whiter than in the pictures.

"Kendall," he responded, wincing inwardly. Why was he engaging? He just wanted to be alone. But his mom had taught him to be polite. And with that smile pointed directly at him ….

"I feel like I've seen you before. You come here often?"

Kendall nearly snorted. So he was the type to drop cheesy lines?

"No," he replied flatly.

"Shame." James nodded to the bartender as he handed him his drink, a finely aged whiskey in a small glass. Kendall eyed him as he took a sip, waiting to see if he would sputter at the taste. To his surprise, he watched it go smoothly down his throat. The brunette eyed the glass appreciatively. "Good choice."

"I didn't peg you as a whiskey guy. You look like you'd have more … delicate sensibilities."

"I'm a man of fine taste." Kendall didn't miss the way his eyes roamed over him as he grinned. "So what are you doing here?"

"Drinking."

James's laugh rang out over the music, startling him.

"You're sharp. I like that."

Kendall turned back to his drink and took a quick sip, trying to convey his lack of interest. This was the last thing he had come here for. But when he turned his head again James was still looking at him, clearly amused.

"What?" he bit out.

"Just wondering what brings you here, to the city I mean."

"Hockey."

"That's right, the Minnesota team." James's gaze lingered on his face. "Yeah, I recognize you now."

Kendall couldn't help but be slightly shocked.

"You know the Minnesota team?"

"That's my home team," James replied with a grin. "Gotta support them."

He turned back to his drink again, this time reeling slightly. He wasn't one to follow celebrities. Sure he'd seen James in movies, but he had no idea he was from Minnesota as well.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the low voice in his hear.

"How can I get you alone? Out of here?"

His jaw almost dropped as he jerked back. He stared at James, probably just a beat too long.

"What makes you think I'd be interested?"

A strobe light flashed and James could briefly see himself reflected in the other man's wide eyes, the pupils dilated. He couldn't help the way his grin widened.

"If there's one thing I've perfected in this town, it's my gaydar. You're definitely one of my kind."

Kendall sucked in a small breath. Nobody knew he was gay. The sports mags didn't take much of an interest in his dating life and he kept his private life mostly off social media.

One of my kind, he had said. Did that mean he was gay too?

His thoughts were interrupted as a hand stroked his leg. He shifted uncomfortably and moved it away.

"Look, I don't know you. And I'm not some starstruck fan that's been dying to meet you."

"Exactly. I'm not looking for someone to fall in love with me."

"Then what?"

James shrugged.

"For the rush."

Kendall just stared at him until he gave a small huff.

"Look, I'm hot. You're hot. What's the hangup? It's just a night of fun that nobody's going to know about."

Kendall drew his lip between his teeth and looked away for a long moment. There was James freaking Diamond, trying to sweet-talk his way into his bed. Was this really happening? Was he actually going to let it?

You're a fool if you dance, a fool if you don't.

He stood abruptly.

"My hotel's two blocks away."

He walked off without even looking to see if James was following.

Their bodies crashed together as soon as the door shut. Hands were everywhere. Shirts were torn off.

James pulled back to admire the sight before him, his eyes slowly adjusting to the sparse light filtering through the blinds. Broad shoulders perfect for gripping in the throes of passion, a body chiseled by hours of exercise and training.

"Fuck, it's like you were made for this." He was quickly pulled back in.

"Less talk," Kendall ground out, with a sharp nip to his lower lip before their mouths reconnected.

James turned his attention to blonde's neck, enjoying the feel of his even breaths over his ear. The man was too composed, too collected. Without preamble he quickly slipped his hand down his pants and gripped him.

"Ah, fuck."

He grinned against his neck. Finally, a reaction.

Kendall was going to be a tough nut to crack, no doubt. But he thoroughly looked forward to the task before him.

Kendall awoke slowly to the soft light of morning. It was nice to have a break from 5 a.m. alarms.

He opened one eye and immediately frowned.

"You're still here?"

James was stood before the window, watching the streets below populate with the bustle of the city. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

"It's a nice room."

Kendall groaned internally, not planning on having to deal with his one-night stand in the morning, but had no time to respond as his phone rang. He grabbed it off the nightstand and pressed it to his ear.

"Yeah. You found a place?" His manager chattered for a moment in his ear. "No, that sounds just fine. I'll head over."

He hung up and looked over at James again. What the fuck was he still doing there? He wore an inscrutable grin.

"You know, Sherwood's practically right next door to me," he said, clearly having overheard the conversation. "We could do this again some time."

Kendall rolled his eyes.

"Get out of my room."