[fic] Your Fingerprints Are Everywhere - 1/2
Title: Your Fingerprints Are Everywhere
Author:
garnetice
Pairing: Kendall/James, minor Logan/Shane
Part: One of Two ( Part Two)
Rating: G (no really, it's G. Except for like, two bad words)
Word Count: 12, 962 (Part One - 6,596)
Warnings: Bad words, twin tropes
Summary: James finds Shane curled up on his bed. He didn’t go back to their dad’s. James wonders whether Shane’s waiting for news of how it went with Kendall or if he’s just waiting for James. James decides, just this once, that he’ll pretend it’s the latter. He pulls back the covers, shucking his shirt and jeans and sliding into bed. His skin is cold and clammy, but Shane is warm, slow breathing and a gentle heartbeat. James snuggles up against him. He falls asleep watching the soft rise and fall of his brother’s chest, caught somewhere between hate and love. When James wakes up in the morning, Shane is already gone.
Disclaimer: BTR is not mine.
Author's Notes: Um. So. I started this back in March. And then I promptly forgot about it. But I like the whole concept of Shane being related to James (props to whoever pioneered that), and I like writing backstory for everything ever. Eventually this fic nagged me to death until I completed it. Tada! A thousand thanks to goten0040, who was this story's fantastic beta. Also because she has has listened to me go on and on about how Sweet Valley was like, the foundation of my youth and how I'm totally jealous of her general state of twinship.
goten0040
goten0040---
James has never gotten along with his big brother.
Big is really a huge overstatement here. Shane’s got about three minutes on James, but he lords it around like those three minutes make him infinitely superior. They don’t. James has got a whole stockpile of stories about the many different ways Shane has fucked up. He’s saving most of them for a rainy day. Or blackmail.
But it’s really a shame that James hates his brother’s guts, because twins are supposed to be close. They’re supposed to have some kind of freaky mutant psychic powers. Or maybe those are the kids from Escape From Witch Mountain. Whatever. Point is, James has never been able to read a single thing that’s going on in Shane’s head, and it’s not because he’s about a billion times smarter than James could ever hope to be.
It’s because the guy’s a douchebag, and James doesn’t speak that language.
No, seriously. Shane has never supported a single thing that James has wanted to do, from singing (Shane can’t carry a tune) to hockey (Shane thinks sports are for meatheads) to the time that he decided he wanted a puppy (Shane is a cat person).
They’ve never had anything in common.
Nothing.
Except one thing.
The real point of contention between James and Shane has always been Kendall Knight. See, Kendall belongs to Shane first.
Their friendship has never made any sense. Those three minutes between James and Shane might not mean a damn thing to James, but they do to the Minnesota school system. Shane was born two minutes to midnight. James was born a minute right after. Because their birthdays are technically different days, Shane makes the cutoff to get into school a year earlier than James can. Meaning Shane isn’t even in Kendall’s grade.
Hell, he doesn’t even go to the same school as them. Shane is gifted. Everyone knows that. He’s been attending a special private education center on the edge of their tiny town in Minnesota since like, kindergarten.
James is the one who has to go to public school. Who sits behind Kendall in class and has tried everything he possibly can to get him into a conversation. James even serenades Kendall on the hopscotch board. Problem is, he doesn’t speak Kendall’s language, which seems to be hockey.
James has no interest in learning douchebagese, but hockey is something he can get behind.
Only, the day James joins his school’s peewee hockey team when he’s eight years old, Kendall Knight, team captain, is sick. Sick and too stubborn to stay home. He sits in the bleachers while James tries out.
He sits right next to Shane.
Next thing James knows, Shane has a new best friend. Kendall finally acknowledges James. As Shane’s baby brother.
It‘s awful.
“It’s not that bad,” Logan, James’s dorky next door neighbor, tells him. Like Logan knows anything. The only reason he doesn’t hang out with Shane is ‘cause they got into an argument about whether Pluto really is the best planet and haven’t spoken to each other since.
Dorks.
“It’s pretty bad. Kendall is cool. If I want to be cool, I have to get Kendall to like me.”
“Kendall’s not that cool.” Logan makes a face, and it shows just how much he knows: nothing at all.
“Yeah, he is.” James groans. Kendall is amazing, and it’s like he doesn’t even know that James is a real boy. Every time he comes over to James’s house, the only person he seems to see is Shane. It’s been going like that for nearly five years now. It isn’t fair.
James is Kendall’s teammate.
James is in over half of his classes.
James and Kendall have so damn much in common.
But it doesn’t matter, because Shane is just so much better in Kendall’s eyes. James has no idea why. Shane is scrawny in all the places where James has built muscle from countless hours of hockey and dancing for popstar practice. He wears big, thick framed glasses whenever he has to do something like read, and his smile isn’t nearly as brilliant because he didn’t force their mom to invest in whitening. Shane has always wanted to be behind a camera, while James has always wanted to be in front of it.
He doesn’t get why Kendall seems to like that.
Thing is, Kendall does like that, and James kind of figures it’s going to be that way for all of eternity.
Until the divorce happens.
James isn’t really surprised by it. Things have been rocky between his mom and his dad for a while, and it is no secret that Mr. Diamond is banging one of his many groupies. So no, it isn’t a surprise.
James still resents his dad for it, just a little. And because Shane is never on James’s wavelength, he doesn’t feel the same. At first, Shane agrees to go live with their dad and his bimbo girlfriend. He acts like it’s not a big deal, like he’s happy to be a bargaining chip that their parents can exchange back and forth on the weekends, but then- well.
Shane comes to James one night after dinner when he’s pouring over homework. Which makes zero sense. James is pretty sure that teachers make up this nonsense because they’re sadists.
He’s trying to figure out why they can’t just write math in like, English, when Shane announces, “I’m going to go live with grandma in Seattle. This weekend.”
James’s head snaps up. That’s really soon. It’s already Thursday.
“What? What about Kendall?”
“What about Kendall?” Shane frowns at him, all squinty eyes and thin lips. James wants to tell him his face is going to stick that way. “Why is he always the first person you think of? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush.”
James blinks. “You’re stupid.”
“Actually, I’m a genius.” Shane holds his head up high, but he hasn’t really mastered the haughty expression that is quickly becoming
James’s trademark. Mostly he looks uncertain.
“Well, okay then. Have fun being a genius in Seattle,” James tells him. Shane stands there, studying James like he expected something more. James doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t exactly want Shane to move halfway across the country, but it’s not like they’ve ever really been that close.
Maybe in the early years, when no one realized that Shane was going to grow into a prodigy. Maybe before Kendall. James has seen the pictures that his mother keeps lined up on the mantle; the two of them holding hands, facing the world like a single person. He just doesn’t remember ever feeling like that.
James bends back over his algebra homework and tries to pretend he thinks Shane has already left.
Eventually, leaving is exactly what Shane does.
James assumes that is the end of it, but the next day at school, he’s nearly bowled over by Kendall.
“Dude,” James calls, trying to pinpoint what exactly has gotten his boxers in a twist.
Kendall marches right by him, ignoring James completely. His face falls. He wonders idly if, when Shane finally leaves for real, Kendall might figure out that James exists.
James probably has a better chance of becoming a popstar.
---
Kendall’s problem becomes clear to James when Shane shows up on his doorstep later that evening, soaking wet and looking more than a little guilty.
Of course. It’s always Shane.
James feels anger slice hot through his stomach, tinged with jealousy. He is suddenly certain that he is never going to be good enough compared to his brother. His fingers curl into his palms.
Shane shifts from one foot to another. He doesn’t even say hi.
“James.” Shane peers up at James from beneath his wet bangs. James wants to let him inside, he does, but- Shane has to open his stupid mouth. “Can you tell Kendall I said bye?”
“Weren’t you supposed to go meet him?”
“He. Um. I.” It’s the first time that James has ever seen Shane at a loss for words. “I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“You can too. He lives like, two blocks away. Ride your bike over there and say-“
“I can’t,” Shane repeats, vehement. James swallows. “Just, please. I need you to say goodbye for me.”
“Okay. Fine,” James agrees, glancing out at the rain. He hopes it stops by the morning. He doesn’t want Shane to get on a plane when the sky looks like it wants to rip itself apart. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“No, now.”
“What? It’s pouring out.”
“James,” Shane pleads, and as much as he kind of can’t stand his brother’s face, James also has trouble telling him no. He thinks Shane must have inherited that from their mother.
Unfortunately, James didn’t. People tell him no all the time.
“Hold on.” James sighs, backing into the house. “Let me get my coat.”
“Wait,” Shane says, and then he peels off his wet t-shirt, handing it to James.
James stares at the shirt for a moment, letting the implications of the act sink in. He takes a deep breath. Then he says, “Wait. You want me to say goodbye as- you?”
They’ve pretended to be each other before. It was easier when they were younger; when James wasn’t building muscle from hockey and Shane hadn’t gotten so pale from countless hours indoors. They still fool people occasionally, but they won’t be able to get away with it much longer.
“Take my bike,” Shane orders, unwilling to meet James’s eyes.
“Wait, no. Dude. What is going on-“
“Just take my stupid bike.”
“No. You need it to get back to dad’s. You’ve got a flight to catch. I’ll take mine.” James’s bike is sitting shiny and dry in the garage. “Kendall won’t be able to tell who it belongs to in the middle of all this.”
Like the weather’s agreeing with him, thunder claps. James thinks that he probably should not be riding a giant metal lightning rod in this storm, but Shane and Logan are his voices of reason.
Logan’s not here and Shane doesn’t seem to be much with the reasoning right now.
“Okay.” Shane has that crinkle in his forehead that means he’s worried, but he doesn’t look like he plans on changing his mind.
Kendall’s that important to him.
James strips off his clean, dry shirt and hands it to Shane, taking his brother’s sopping wet tee and slipping it on. It’s frigid against his skin.
He ventures out into the cold and the wet, freeing up his bike. He straps on his helmet, casts Shane a precursory wave, and pedals off.
He’s halfway to Kendall’s before he realizes that he didn’t really say goodbye. James doesn’t let himself think about how much that bothers him.
It only takes another minute or two before he’s at the Knight’s. He lets his bike crash onto their lawn, racing up the steps to the house.
James pounds on the door, barely registering that it’s sort of late for house calls and oh, hey, doesn’t Kendall have a baby sister and a mom and-
The door swings back. James is relieved to see Kendall standing in front of him, dressed in pajama pants and a threadbare shirt, a cup of pudding clutched in one hand. He’s got a spoon sticking out of his mouth.
“Hi,” James says, because he’s scrambling for ideas on how to explain his presence. He nearly forgets that he’s supposed to be Shane in the presence of this boy, his idol.
Nearly, but not quite. James did not take three years of middle school drama classes to lose character so easily.
Kendall stares at him. James is soaked through form the icy rain, hair matted to his face; shivering. When he says, “Kendall,” Kendall grabs his arm and pulls him inside the house, ignoring the way he drips all over the carpet. He glances at James’s shirt, and then back up at James’s face, eyes clearing.
“So, what’s up? Is-“
James doesn’t let him finish, rushing to say, “I, uh. Sorry I’m here so late. Early wake up call,” he explains, because Shane’s leaving at the ass crack of dawn. Kendall nods.
“Yeah. Look. I shouldn’t have- before.”
James has no idea what he’s talking about.
“Um. It’s cool.” He shrugs, hoping that Shane is willing to forgive whatever Kendall did that’s so bad he needs to apologize for it. Must have been some fight.
James shivers again and Kendall says, “Dude, what were you thinking? It’s the perfect storm out there.”
“I was thinking that I wanted to see you.”
“How about you see me over hot chocolate?” Kendall asks, snorting. He ushers James into the kitchen, and James has never really been in the Knight house before, but it’s pretty nice. Cozy. He thinks about all the times Shane must have been here, curled up on the couch, studying or playing games or raiding the fridge. His big brother’s got close to five years of memories in this house. Here, in the warmth of Kendall’s gaze, James can’t even resent him for it.
Who wouldn’t want to spend as much time as possible in this place?
Kendall’s pretty self sufficient for a thirteen year old boy. He whips up a glass of cocoa with marshmallows in minutes. James isn’t even sure how to boil water. He’s impressed.
“This is really good.”
“Thanks. Um.” Kendall shifts from foot to foot. “Did you see the Wild game?”
James blinks. He didn’t know Shane talked to Kendall about hockey. Shane doesn’t talk to James about hockey. Apparently, it’s one more topic that’s exclusive to their super-special friendship club.
James feels bitter.
But he really loves hockey. He starts running his mouth about the game’s highlights, and before he knows it he’s got Kendall animatedly joining in, describing plays and what it’s going to feel like one day when he’s standing on the ice, playing for the winning team. Kendall has this one smile, this soft, crooked, uncertain smile that he doesn’t actually show to many people. It’s kind of like a unicorn; rare and magical.
James has only ever glimpsed it in peeks and snatches during his conversations with Shane, but right now, the full force of that smile is focused entirely on James. He doesn’t want to move, for fear of making it disappear, but at the same time he can’t even enjoy it. He can’t talk about how he passed the puck to Kendall at the last game, or how epic it felt when they won.
He can’t be himself.
“I should, um. I should get home,” James says reluctantly, guilt pooling hot on his insides. “My, m- uh, stepmom’s going to freak if I’m out any later.”
“She is a little scary,” Kendall agrees. “But hot.”
James chokes on a marshmallow.
He’s coughing, long and hard, and he has trouble stopping. He’s sure that his stomach is about to throw itself up into his throat and out onto the floor to escape his mutinous body until he feels a hand at his back and a voice saying, “Dude, are you okay?”
Then there are two hands on his cheeks, Kendall’s hands, and he’s trying to get James’s attention through his fit. “Just nod or I don’t know, give me the safe word so I know that you’re okay?”
“M’good,” James croaks. His eyes are tearing, but oxygen is no longer something his lungs are gasping for, so he figures he’ll live.
And then he looks up.
Kendall’s face is close. Like, really close. James goes cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze, to reassure him that he’s fine. He doesn’t need the Heimlich or anything.
“Hey, you’ve got-“ Kendall’s thumb moves to the corner of James’s lips, smoothing away a sticky smear of hot chocolate. He lingers there, long after the chocolate is gone, staring at James with an expression that James can’t really identify.
No one’s ever looked at him like this, not even the crazy girls in their grade who are always following him longingly with their eyes. James feels weird with Kendall’s thumb pressed up against the corner of his mouth, and he presses his lips together. Kendall’s eyes snap down, following the movement.
There’s this fluttery moment, where all James can feel is his heart pounding in his chest, the way Kendall’s gaze rests against his mouth like a physical weight, and the warmth of his thumb. His ears roar with possibilities.
Kendall kisses him, and it tastes like hot chocolate and sweetness; like rainwater and earth. Behind that there is the spark of something exciting and foreign, something that zings through James’s veins all the way down to his toes. Kendall’s thumbs press into the skin behind James’s ears, and his lips are soft and dry and warm. James is wet and shivery and so cold, and the house is too still. He feels like the silence might swallow him. The heat of Kendall’s hands and lips is the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.
It’s his first kiss, and he feels like it doesn’t belong to him.
James rips himself away, wincing as Kendall accidentally pulls out a bit of his hair.
“I- havetogo,” he talks so quickly that his words bump into each other, one starting right on the end of the last, none of it making any sense.
Kendall is staring at him, gape mouthed and disappointed, but James can’t help it. He yells, “So, uh, bye!” already bolting out the door.
James doesn’t know what to think or what to do. He’s always idol-worshipped Kendall, but James likes girls. Doesn’t he? His tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth. His lips taste like Kendall. The only thing he’s sure about is that Shane can never find out.
James pedals back home as quickly as he can. It’s still pouring, and he wipes out on wet concrete once, tearing a hole straight through his jeans to bloody his knee. When he gets home, he leaves a trail of puddles and despair in the foyer of his house. All he wants is to go to sleep. Tomorrow, maybe everything will be clearer.
Or not. James finds Shane curled up on his bed. He didn’t go back to their dad’s. James wonders whether Shane’s waiting for news of how it went with Kendall or if he’s just waiting for James. James decides, just this once, that he’ll pretend it’s the latter. He pulls back the covers, shucking his shirt and jeans and sliding into bed. His skin is cold and clammy, but Shane is warm, slow breathing and a gentle heartbeat. James snuggles up against him.
He falls asleep watching the soft rise and fall of his brother’s chest, caught somewhere between hate and love. When James wakes up in the morning, Shane is already gone.
---
James walks onto the ice an hour before practice to narrowly avoid losing all of his teeth.
“Dude, sor- James?” a familiar voice shouts from across the rink.
James waves, trying to be like, no worries. He’s not all that attached to his teeth. That’s a lie, but still. It’s Kendall. He can’t find it in him to be mad when all he can think about is the ghost of those gorgeous lips on his.
Wait. Gorgeous?
James frowns, confused. Which isn’t exactly a new feeling. Confusion is where he lives. He’s got a white picket fence and a flower garden there and everything. Still.
That doesn’t mean he likes the neighborhood.
Kendall skates over while James is in the midst of a very serious mental-lecture about how kissing boys is wrong.
He’s just having trouble remembering why.
“What are you doing here?”
“Practice?” James replies, bewildered. He lifts his duffel bag and offers Kendall a shy, albeit confused smile.
“I- but-“ Kendall looks tongue tied. “Your stupid brother’s going to a stupid new school. In Seattle.”
“Oh,” James replies, like this is news.
“It’s not even a private school- it’s public. They’ve just got some amazing honors program for avionics or audio visual nerds or something. Stupid,” Kendall rambles on. He seems to have lost the thread of where he was going with this conversation.
“I’m still here.” James shrugs, because he figures that won’t be much solace to the kid.
“You’re not going to special school?” Kendall twirls his stick in his hands, and he actually looks nervous.
“Nope. Not smart enough. Besides, it would take a lot to get my mom to let me leave the state. The only reason Shane gets to go is ‘cause he chose to stick it out with dad and his new wife.”
“Oh,” Kendall echoes his earlier statement. “Um. I didn’t know you were staying.”
James figures Kendall probably doesn’t know very much about him at all. He doubts he even crossed Kendall’s mind when he found out Shane was leaving. Which isn’t really fair, considering that it seems like Kendall and that kiss are all James is ever going to be able to think about for the rest of eternity.
“I am. Um. Want to practice?”
Kendall grins. They kickstart a one on one game of hockey, batting the puck around for a bit.
“Hey, you’re really good,” Kendall says, sounding surprised. “Have you always been this good?”
“Pretty much,” James lies, because he’s been giving himself extra practice time for years to get to the level he’s at, all in the hopes that Kendall would take notice.
If only he’d known all he had to do was pretend to be his brother, he thinks bitterly.
“Show me that move again,” Kendall instructs. He’s smiling broadly and brightly, and it’s all focused completely on James.
For the first time, Kendall is noticing him for something other than Shane. The bitterness fades, just a little, and James shows Kendall the fancy fakeout he learned all on his own.
---
After that, James begins spending more and more time with Kendall. First at practice, then in school, and then on weekends. Logan tags along, never far from James to begin with, and then Carlos joins the group. It gets to be so that James forgets there was ever a time Kendall wasn’t deeply ingrained in his life; when they weren’t soaking girl’s field hockey teams or playing paintball or dancing around Kendall’s room like lunatics, singing made up songs about nothing. It takes nearly years, but he forgets that James Diamond was not always Kendall Knight’s best friend.
James does not forget about the kiss.
It kills James wondering if that was Kendall’s first kiss too, or if he’s done it with Shane a million times before. It would explain why Kendall always liked Shane so damn much, and why he was never even able to notice James until Shane left. Sometimes James wonders if he’s just a replacement. But James can’t bring himself to ask. His friendship with Kendall is just starting to grow into something real. He’s not willing to give it up for petty jealousy.
Shane is a million miles away now.
Even so, as he and Logan and Carlos and Kendall become a kind of unit in Shane’s absence, the kiss sits pretty in the back of his mind.
Whenever Kendall looks at him a certain way, eyes electric, smile flaring across his face as bright and brilliant as a firework, James’s lips tingle in remembrance. It doesn’t matter if they’re on the ice or doing something idiotic at school or just chilling in the Sherwood Parking lot while Kendall works. The kiss is always there, haunting him.
Before, he just wanted to be Kendall’s friend. But now? Being so close to Kendall, every single day? Yeah, James doesn’t only like girls anymore. He can’t understand how everyone Kendall meets isn’t pinning him down and ravishing him.
Kendall doesn’t help anything at all by being wonderful and amazing and James’s hero in all things, especially when he scores a record deal in California that he refuses to take without James and Carlos and Logan at his side. No one’s ever done anything so nice for James, not once in his entire life. If he hadn’t already been in love with Kendall, he probably would have fallen for him at that moment. And life in California? It’s pretty much everything that James has ever dreamed about.
It’s all going so perfectly, until the day he gets the call.
---
James stares at the phone for close to an hour after he hangs up. He wants to have dreamed the entire conversation. He clicks back, checking the caller ID on his cell. Nope. Still not a dream. He thinks about going down to the pool and attempting to drown himself. Instead he buries his head in the bright orange pillows of their couch and hopes to god that Seattle has a horrible, flight-grounding storm.
The door to the apartment opens, but James doesn’t bother trying to see who it is. He finds out seconds later anyway.
“Hey.” The couch settles with familiar weight. Kendall shoves James’s feet off the nearest cushion, scooting closer, and James is forced to sit up straight. Kendall takes the opportunity to hook their legs together, sagging into James’s side. “Scoot over.”
“Find your own couch,” James says, but he’s already moving, giving Kendall some space so that he can stretch out. He doesn’t, though, content to lean most of his weight onto James. It doesn’t dull the throb of dread pricking at James’s temples, but it does perk him up a teensy bit. James pulls Kendall a little tighter to his side.
Kendall’s so exhausted that he barely even notices. Gustavo’s been riding him hard for extra choreography practice ever since he messed up at a live concert. He comes back from the studio later than the rest of them, reeking of exhaustion.
“What are we watching?”
James glances at the TV. “Zombie Strippers. They’re strippers who are also zombies. It’s genius.”
“Is my mom-“
“Nope, she’s out cold for the night.”
“Cool.” Kendall settles his head down against James’s chest. He murmurs, “How was your day?” into James’s armpit. His face is warm.
“Oh. Um. Good. Shane’s coming to visit.”
“Really?” Kendall mumbles. “S’nice. Shane’s awesome.”
Great. Shane is awesome and James is a pillow. He wants to make some witty retort, but Kendall’s asleep within seconds. James sighs, running his fingers through Kendall’s hair. He smells like sweat and strawberry smoothies.
He smells like home.
---
James makes a more generalized announcement about his brother’s surprise visit the following morning over pancakes.
“So, uh. Guys. My brother’s coming to visit. On Monday. Two days from now. He just told me.” James looks immediately to Mrs. Knight. “Is that okay?”
He kind of hopes she’ll say no.
“Of course, sweetie. He’s your brother.”
James suppresses an eye roll. His relationship with Shane since he moved to Seattle mostly consists of awkward phone conversations that devolve into belittling each other’s life choices, punctuated by static and a lot of resentment. He has more in common with Katie. Shared blood shouldn’t excuse the inherent rudeness of showing up at someone’s door without an invitation.
“Wait, Shane’s actually coming?” Kendall asks through a bite of pancake. “Thought I dreamed that.”
Because apparently Kendall dreams about Shane. Awesome.
“Chew with your mouth closed,” Mrs. Knight commands. Kendall’s jaw snaps shut.
“Sweet,” Carlos says. “Your brother’s pretty awesome.”
“Shane is not awesome.” James is really starting to hate that word. He shovels a forkful of pancake in his mouth to keep from saying more.
“He’s fantastically awesome,” Katie counters. “And hot.”
James chokes, flailing for air and knocking over his fork in the process. He gulps in a big breath of air. “What? He looks just like me!”
“I’ve never seen him have a burp off with Kendall.” Katie replies airily.
“H’yeah, you have,” Kendall mumbles through his food. “You just don’t remember it.”
“Besides.” Katie glares at Kendall. “Geek chic is in, obviously.”
James takes it back. He has nothing in common with Katie. Geek chic will never be in.
“You guys never said that to me,” Logan butts in, indignant.
“I said chic, not-“ Katie waves a hand in the air over Logan’s general outline, nose wrinkling.
“Rude,” Logan retorts. James feels for him. Mostly because Logan is the only one who looks less than pleased with this development. He begins mumbling something about planetary alignment under his breath. When Carlos asks him what he’s on about, Logan announces, “Pluto’s not even a planet. So I win.”
Shane’s already frying the poor kid’s nerves, and he’s not even in the state yet.
James doesn’t even blame Logan for it. He’s pretty frazzled too. James is all grown up now. He’s way cooler than Kendall. But Kendall is still the only person who ever seems to beat him at anything, the only person who ever seems anything like a challenge. The only person who ever seems worth it. And Shane’s going to walk into the apartment and sweep Kendall off his feet.
Panic rises in James like a tide.
That can’t be allowed to happen.
As soon as breakfast is over, James launches into full scale nuclear meltdown mode. He marches back and forth across the living room, treading the imprint of his sneakers into the carpet over and over again, mumbling to himself.
“What exactly is your problem right now?” Kendall asks from his perch on the couch. He’s been watching James pace for close to fifteen minutes.
“We have to impress him.”
“What?”
“We have to impress him.”
“Who?”
“Shane. Kendall, you’re not listening, we have to impress him.”
“Why? It’s just Shane.”
“Exactly. He thinks I’m a huge loser,” James mutters, the sting of admitting it out loud too visceral for his taste. His brother should not have this effect on him when he hasn’t even stepped foot in the apartment yet.
“He does not think that.”
“How do you know? Have you been talking to him?” James asks. His voice comes out more sharply than he intends and Kendall gives him an inscrutable look.
“Sure. We’re buds.”
James’s gut clenches, but he says, “Oh. I didn’t, um. Know that.”
Buds. He mouths the word to himself.
James shouldn’t be this insecure. He’s Kendall’s best friend. Not Shane. Shane is just- his bud.
What does that even mean?
“We need to have a party,” James decides.
“A party for Shane?” Kendall asks, doubtfully. It’s clear that he doesn’t think that’s the best idea James has ever had.
“A party that Shane can come to and see how awesome I am.”
Duh. Kendall is so dense sometimes.
“I don’t think a party’s going to convince-“
“Of course it is,” James snaps. He knows Kendall’s right, but there’s no way to say that he wants Shane to come to a party so that James can show off how well he gets along with Kendall in a social setting out loud. It would sound silly and shallow.
Both of which are things James freely admits he is, but he likes it when Kendall looks at him like…like he’s a bigger person.
Besides, it’s pretty big of James to throw Shane a party, considering. It’s the nice thing to do. Humanitarian, even.
“Right,” James says slowly, drawing out the word. “Carlos?
Carlos peeks out from his nest in the swirly slide. James isn’t sure what it is that he does up there, and he doesn’t feel like now is the time to ask. “This party needs to be bangin’, man. Can you call the Russian Acrobats?”
“I think they got deported back to Russia,” Carlos worries at his lip. “I know some circus clowns.”
“Clowns.” James shudders, because he’s pretty sure there is a childhood birthday party memory somewhere that explains his conviction that all clowns have razor sharp teeth and claws, like the raptors in Jurassic Park. Except with painted faces and knives.
“So that’s a negatory on the clowns,” Carlos agrees, like he can actually see inside of James’s morbid fantasy. Maybe he can. Carlos has always been strangely in sync with his brain.
“Right. Right, okay. New plan. I need- Doesn’t our school have an AV club?”
From the couch, Kendall drawls. “Yeah. Its name is Tyler.”
“Tyler. I need Tyler.”
James finds Tyler hiding behind a potted palm in the lobby. “Tyler. Dude. I need you to hook me up.”
“Shh, not so loud. My mom’s over there,” Tyler gestures frantically towards his mother, who is hurrying through the Palmwoods like she’s training for a marathon, hollering Tyler’s name.
“Yeah, but. I need your help.”
Tyler looks at him doubtfully. “I know a girl in 3K who would date you, but-“
James is aghast.
“Do I look like I need dating help?”
“You have been single for an awfully long time.”
James has to decide between being mightily offended or begging for help. As much as it pains him, he chooses the latter. “I need help with this party I’m throwing.”
“You’re going to try to sneak a party past Mr. Bitters again? You never learn.”
“I need the best sound system and the most impressive visual equipment you can find. We’re going to blow his little mind out of the water.”
“Who? Is someone coming? A movie star?”
“Worse,” James makes a disparaging noise. “My brother.”
---
Looking at Shane is like looking into a funhouse mirror after three years apart. He’s scrawny and thin in all the places where James has built up layers of muscle. His skin is pale, his fashion sense is awful, and his haircut is something that needs to be rectified immediately.
Their faces are the same, but the way he smiles is different, less confident, more self deprecating. And Shane’s eyes- they definitely do not have the same eyes. Shane’s are sharp with intelligence. James isn’t sure what lies behind his eyes, but it’s certainly not that piercing look, like he can see through anything.
“He looks just like you.” Carlos blinks. “Wow. I forgot.”
James wants to shake him, because there is no part of them that is alike.
“Shane!” Kendall cheers, enveloping him in a big hug. James’s hands clench into fists at his sides. And now they’re all looking at him, expecting him to have some kind of reaction to his brother’s triumphant arrival. Problem is, James doesn’t know what reaction he’s supposed to have. He’s not close to Shane, the same way he’s not really close to his dad or his stepmom or his grandparents. His mom’s the only one he has any kind of connection with.
Sometimes his family feels like satellites. They’re all stuck in orbit, circling each other but never quite connecting.
Carlos hisses, “Hug him.”
James thinks he’d rather stab his eyes out with a fork and eat them. He forces a smile. “Hi.”
Shane’s easy grin falters, all goodwill vanishing. He doesn’t say you’re not happy to see me, but the thought is broadcast, loud and clear.
“James,” Kendall mutters, kicking James lightly in the back of his heel. The rubber of his Vans catches on the hair on James’s ankle, pulling. James winces. He tries to force a better smile, but it’s not like he’s fooling anyone, least of all Shane. Which is so not cool, because James prides himself on being a talented actor. The least his brother could do is pretend to accept James’s act, like a non-socially awkward human being.
Behind him, James hears a huff, and then Kendall offers, “I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep while James attempts to stop being a loser.”
“He probably will not succeed,” Carlos hisses conspicuously. James frowns at him, but Carlos is not crushed by the weight of his disapproval. Jerk.
At least Logan’s on his side, sitting cross legged on the couch and completely ignoring Shane’s presence. He has a gigantic book tucked in his hands that proudly declares, Pluto: No Longer A Planet, like he’s making a point.
Logan is the king of all things passive aggressive.
“Am I bunking with you?” Shane asks James, who is kind of occupied with pouting. Kendall just called him a loser. And yeah, okay, maybe he is acting like a dick, and maybe the guys all throw insults at each other like breathing on a normal day, but Kendall’s not supposed to put James down for Shane.
James is so busy trying to process his hurt that he fails to answer. Kendall’s eyes narrow. Shane’s smile flickers, again.
“If James is going to be a jerk, you can come bunk in our room. We used to sleep together all the time,” Kendall reminds Shane casually, and yeah, he’s probably talking about sleepovers and camping trips, but James can’t help the lump that forms in his throat.
Shane’s watching him, and James tries to school his face.
“You know, I think I’d rather snuggle with Logan,” Shane announces cheerfully.
Logan makes this indistinguishable noise before trying to form something more syllabic, “I mean what?”
“You can do that,” Kendall says without missing a beat. “Logie and I are roommates.”
“Kendall,” Logan squeaks, “You’re consorting with the enemy.”
“Shane is not the enemy,” Kendall replies with a well placed eye-roll. “Don’t be dumb.”
“I’m a genius,” Logan objects, horrified.
“Then act like it.”
“James,” Logan pleads. James holds up his hands. He’s all for Shane being the enemy, but he doesn’t want anything to do with the Intergalactic Federation of Dorkdom. It’s a fight that’s way older than his own.
Apparently, James says that out loud, because now Shane and Logan have both turned on him, equal parts fire and fury. Logan is all puffed up like a hot air balloon. His face even starts to turn a little red. Shane’s gaze has turned dagger sharp. Kendall actually has the nerve to look amused by this turn of events. His smirk is completely uncalled for; he’s the one who coined the term in the first place.
“Did I say dorkdom? I, um. Meant-”
“What are you fighting me for, James?” Shane cuts in before he can make a complete fool of himself. Logan cocks an eyebrow. James really wants him to say something about Pluto, but he looks pretty interested in the conversation at hand. Damn.
“Um. Which of us is mom’s favorite,” James says lamely. Lamely because he’s their mother’s favorite, and they both know it. Shane may be more like their clever, driven, ambitious mother than James could ever hope to be, but Shane’s not the one who stuck around after the divorce. Sometimes James wonders if he did stay because he wanted to make up for being so much like their dad. If he wanted to prove that he could be loyal.
Or if it was all just for Kendall and the fact that he didn’t have a fancy smart school to go to.
“Follow me,” Kendall instructs, breaking the awkward silence that’s formed in the middle of the living room. Shane gives James a long, hard look, and then he does.
James stares after them until Carlos announces that someone needs to take him to the park for corndogs. James takes him, but he still feels sick inside.
Later that night, he tosses and turns, imagining Shane and Kendall in bed together. It makes something hot and sharp slice through his heart, something molten pool in his belly.
Shane’s only been here five minutes, and James can’t wait for him to leave.
---
Part Two
Author:
garnetice
Pairing: Kendall/James, minor Logan/Shane
Part: One of Two ( Part Two)
Rating: G (no really, it's G. Except for like, two bad words)
Word Count: 12, 962 (Part One - 6,596)
Warnings: Bad words, twin tropes
Summary: James finds Shane curled up on his bed. He didn’t go back to their dad’s. James wonders whether Shane’s waiting for news of how it went with Kendall or if he’s just waiting for James. James decides, just this once, that he’ll pretend it’s the latter. He pulls back the covers, shucking his shirt and jeans and sliding into bed. His skin is cold and clammy, but Shane is warm, slow breathing and a gentle heartbeat. James snuggles up against him. He falls asleep watching the soft rise and fall of his brother’s chest, caught somewhere between hate and love. When James wakes up in the morning, Shane is already gone.
Disclaimer: BTR is not mine.
Author's Notes: Um. So. I started this back in March. And then I promptly forgot about it. But I like the whole concept of Shane being related to James (props to whoever pioneered that), and I like writing backstory for everything ever. Eventually this fic nagged me to death until I completed it. Tada! A thousand thanks to goten0040, who was this story's fantastic beta. Also because she has has listened to me go on and on about how Sweet Valley was like, the foundation of my youth and how I'm totally jealous of her general state of twinship.
goten0040
goten0040---
James has never gotten along with his big brother.
Big is really a huge overstatement here. Shane’s got about three minutes on James, but he lords it around like those three minutes make him infinitely superior. They don’t. James has got a whole stockpile of stories about the many different ways Shane has fucked up. He’s saving most of them for a rainy day. Or blackmail.
But it’s really a shame that James hates his brother’s guts, because twins are supposed to be close. They’re supposed to have some kind of freaky mutant psychic powers. Or maybe those are the kids from Escape From Witch Mountain. Whatever. Point is, James has never been able to read a single thing that’s going on in Shane’s head, and it’s not because he’s about a billion times smarter than James could ever hope to be.
It’s because the guy’s a douchebag, and James doesn’t speak that language.
No, seriously. Shane has never supported a single thing that James has wanted to do, from singing (Shane can’t carry a tune) to hockey (Shane thinks sports are for meatheads) to the time that he decided he wanted a puppy (Shane is a cat person).
They’ve never had anything in common.
Nothing.
Except one thing.
The real point of contention between James and Shane has always been Kendall Knight. See, Kendall belongs to Shane first.
Their friendship has never made any sense. Those three minutes between James and Shane might not mean a damn thing to James, but they do to the Minnesota school system. Shane was born two minutes to midnight. James was born a minute right after. Because their birthdays are technically different days, Shane makes the cutoff to get into school a year earlier than James can. Meaning Shane isn’t even in Kendall’s grade.
Hell, he doesn’t even go to the same school as them. Shane is gifted. Everyone knows that. He’s been attending a special private education center on the edge of their tiny town in Minnesota since like, kindergarten.
James is the one who has to go to public school. Who sits behind Kendall in class and has tried everything he possibly can to get him into a conversation. James even serenades Kendall on the hopscotch board. Problem is, he doesn’t speak Kendall’s language, which seems to be hockey.
James has no interest in learning douchebagese, but hockey is something he can get behind.
Only, the day James joins his school’s peewee hockey team when he’s eight years old, Kendall Knight, team captain, is sick. Sick and too stubborn to stay home. He sits in the bleachers while James tries out.
He sits right next to Shane.
Next thing James knows, Shane has a new best friend. Kendall finally acknowledges James. As Shane’s baby brother.
It‘s awful.
“It’s not that bad,” Logan, James’s dorky next door neighbor, tells him. Like Logan knows anything. The only reason he doesn’t hang out with Shane is ‘cause they got into an argument about whether Pluto really is the best planet and haven’t spoken to each other since.
Dorks.
“It’s pretty bad. Kendall is cool. If I want to be cool, I have to get Kendall to like me.”
“Kendall’s not that cool.” Logan makes a face, and it shows just how much he knows: nothing at all.
“Yeah, he is.” James groans. Kendall is amazing, and it’s like he doesn’t even know that James is a real boy. Every time he comes over to James’s house, the only person he seems to see is Shane. It’s been going like that for nearly five years now. It isn’t fair.
James is Kendall’s teammate.
James is in over half of his classes.
James and Kendall have so damn much in common.
But it doesn’t matter, because Shane is just so much better in Kendall’s eyes. James has no idea why. Shane is scrawny in all the places where James has built muscle from countless hours of hockey and dancing for popstar practice. He wears big, thick framed glasses whenever he has to do something like read, and his smile isn’t nearly as brilliant because he didn’t force their mom to invest in whitening. Shane has always wanted to be behind a camera, while James has always wanted to be in front of it.
He doesn’t get why Kendall seems to like that.
Thing is, Kendall does like that, and James kind of figures it’s going to be that way for all of eternity.
Until the divorce happens.
James isn’t really surprised by it. Things have been rocky between his mom and his dad for a while, and it is no secret that Mr. Diamond is banging one of his many groupies. So no, it isn’t a surprise.
James still resents his dad for it, just a little. And because Shane is never on James’s wavelength, he doesn’t feel the same. At first, Shane agrees to go live with their dad and his bimbo girlfriend. He acts like it’s not a big deal, like he’s happy to be a bargaining chip that their parents can exchange back and forth on the weekends, but then- well.
Shane comes to James one night after dinner when he’s pouring over homework. Which makes zero sense. James is pretty sure that teachers make up this nonsense because they’re sadists.
He’s trying to figure out why they can’t just write math in like, English, when Shane announces, “I’m going to go live with grandma in Seattle. This weekend.”
James’s head snaps up. That’s really soon. It’s already Thursday.
“What? What about Kendall?”
“What about Kendall?” Shane frowns at him, all squinty eyes and thin lips. James wants to tell him his face is going to stick that way. “Why is he always the first person you think of? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush.”
James blinks. “You’re stupid.”
“Actually, I’m a genius.” Shane holds his head up high, but he hasn’t really mastered the haughty expression that is quickly becoming
James’s trademark. Mostly he looks uncertain.
“Well, okay then. Have fun being a genius in Seattle,” James tells him. Shane stands there, studying James like he expected something more. James doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t exactly want Shane to move halfway across the country, but it’s not like they’ve ever really been that close.
Maybe in the early years, when no one realized that Shane was going to grow into a prodigy. Maybe before Kendall. James has seen the pictures that his mother keeps lined up on the mantle; the two of them holding hands, facing the world like a single person. He just doesn’t remember ever feeling like that.
James bends back over his algebra homework and tries to pretend he thinks Shane has already left.
Eventually, leaving is exactly what Shane does.
James assumes that is the end of it, but the next day at school, he’s nearly bowled over by Kendall.
“Dude,” James calls, trying to pinpoint what exactly has gotten his boxers in a twist.
Kendall marches right by him, ignoring James completely. His face falls. He wonders idly if, when Shane finally leaves for real, Kendall might figure out that James exists.
James probably has a better chance of becoming a popstar.
---
Kendall’s problem becomes clear to James when Shane shows up on his doorstep later that evening, soaking wet and looking more than a little guilty.
Of course. It’s always Shane.
James feels anger slice hot through his stomach, tinged with jealousy. He is suddenly certain that he is never going to be good enough compared to his brother. His fingers curl into his palms.
Shane shifts from one foot to another. He doesn’t even say hi.
“James.” Shane peers up at James from beneath his wet bangs. James wants to let him inside, he does, but- Shane has to open his stupid mouth. “Can you tell Kendall I said bye?”
“Weren’t you supposed to go meet him?”
“He. Um. I.” It’s the first time that James has ever seen Shane at a loss for words. “I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“You can too. He lives like, two blocks away. Ride your bike over there and say-“
“I can’t,” Shane repeats, vehement. James swallows. “Just, please. I need you to say goodbye for me.”
“Okay. Fine,” James agrees, glancing out at the rain. He hopes it stops by the morning. He doesn’t want Shane to get on a plane when the sky looks like it wants to rip itself apart. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“No, now.”
“What? It’s pouring out.”
“James,” Shane pleads, and as much as he kind of can’t stand his brother’s face, James also has trouble telling him no. He thinks Shane must have inherited that from their mother.
Unfortunately, James didn’t. People tell him no all the time.
“Hold on.” James sighs, backing into the house. “Let me get my coat.”
“Wait,” Shane says, and then he peels off his wet t-shirt, handing it to James.
James stares at the shirt for a moment, letting the implications of the act sink in. He takes a deep breath. Then he says, “Wait. You want me to say goodbye as- you?”
They’ve pretended to be each other before. It was easier when they were younger; when James wasn’t building muscle from hockey and Shane hadn’t gotten so pale from countless hours indoors. They still fool people occasionally, but they won’t be able to get away with it much longer.
“Take my bike,” Shane orders, unwilling to meet James’s eyes.
“Wait, no. Dude. What is going on-“
“Just take my stupid bike.”
“No. You need it to get back to dad’s. You’ve got a flight to catch. I’ll take mine.” James’s bike is sitting shiny and dry in the garage. “Kendall won’t be able to tell who it belongs to in the middle of all this.”
Like the weather’s agreeing with him, thunder claps. James thinks that he probably should not be riding a giant metal lightning rod in this storm, but Shane and Logan are his voices of reason.
Logan’s not here and Shane doesn’t seem to be much with the reasoning right now.
“Okay.” Shane has that crinkle in his forehead that means he’s worried, but he doesn’t look like he plans on changing his mind.
Kendall’s that important to him.
James strips off his clean, dry shirt and hands it to Shane, taking his brother’s sopping wet tee and slipping it on. It’s frigid against his skin.
He ventures out into the cold and the wet, freeing up his bike. He straps on his helmet, casts Shane a precursory wave, and pedals off.
He’s halfway to Kendall’s before he realizes that he didn’t really say goodbye. James doesn’t let himself think about how much that bothers him.
It only takes another minute or two before he’s at the Knight’s. He lets his bike crash onto their lawn, racing up the steps to the house.
James pounds on the door, barely registering that it’s sort of late for house calls and oh, hey, doesn’t Kendall have a baby sister and a mom and-
The door swings back. James is relieved to see Kendall standing in front of him, dressed in pajama pants and a threadbare shirt, a cup of pudding clutched in one hand. He’s got a spoon sticking out of his mouth.
“Hi,” James says, because he’s scrambling for ideas on how to explain his presence. He nearly forgets that he’s supposed to be Shane in the presence of this boy, his idol.
Nearly, but not quite. James did not take three years of middle school drama classes to lose character so easily.
Kendall stares at him. James is soaked through form the icy rain, hair matted to his face; shivering. When he says, “Kendall,” Kendall grabs his arm and pulls him inside the house, ignoring the way he drips all over the carpet. He glances at James’s shirt, and then back up at James’s face, eyes clearing.
“So, what’s up? Is-“
James doesn’t let him finish, rushing to say, “I, uh. Sorry I’m here so late. Early wake up call,” he explains, because Shane’s leaving at the ass crack of dawn. Kendall nods.
“Yeah. Look. I shouldn’t have- before.”
James has no idea what he’s talking about.
“Um. It’s cool.” He shrugs, hoping that Shane is willing to forgive whatever Kendall did that’s so bad he needs to apologize for it. Must have been some fight.
James shivers again and Kendall says, “Dude, what were you thinking? It’s the perfect storm out there.”
“I was thinking that I wanted to see you.”
“How about you see me over hot chocolate?” Kendall asks, snorting. He ushers James into the kitchen, and James has never really been in the Knight house before, but it’s pretty nice. Cozy. He thinks about all the times Shane must have been here, curled up on the couch, studying or playing games or raiding the fridge. His big brother’s got close to five years of memories in this house. Here, in the warmth of Kendall’s gaze, James can’t even resent him for it.
Who wouldn’t want to spend as much time as possible in this place?
Kendall’s pretty self sufficient for a thirteen year old boy. He whips up a glass of cocoa with marshmallows in minutes. James isn’t even sure how to boil water. He’s impressed.
“This is really good.”
“Thanks. Um.” Kendall shifts from foot to foot. “Did you see the Wild game?”
James blinks. He didn’t know Shane talked to Kendall about hockey. Shane doesn’t talk to James about hockey. Apparently, it’s one more topic that’s exclusive to their super-special friendship club.
James feels bitter.
But he really loves hockey. He starts running his mouth about the game’s highlights, and before he knows it he’s got Kendall animatedly joining in, describing plays and what it’s going to feel like one day when he’s standing on the ice, playing for the winning team. Kendall has this one smile, this soft, crooked, uncertain smile that he doesn’t actually show to many people. It’s kind of like a unicorn; rare and magical.
James has only ever glimpsed it in peeks and snatches during his conversations with Shane, but right now, the full force of that smile is focused entirely on James. He doesn’t want to move, for fear of making it disappear, but at the same time he can’t even enjoy it. He can’t talk about how he passed the puck to Kendall at the last game, or how epic it felt when they won.
He can’t be himself.
“I should, um. I should get home,” James says reluctantly, guilt pooling hot on his insides. “My, m- uh, stepmom’s going to freak if I’m out any later.”
“She is a little scary,” Kendall agrees. “But hot.”
James chokes on a marshmallow.
He’s coughing, long and hard, and he has trouble stopping. He’s sure that his stomach is about to throw itself up into his throat and out onto the floor to escape his mutinous body until he feels a hand at his back and a voice saying, “Dude, are you okay?”
Then there are two hands on his cheeks, Kendall’s hands, and he’s trying to get James’s attention through his fit. “Just nod or I don’t know, give me the safe word so I know that you’re okay?”
“M’good,” James croaks. His eyes are tearing, but oxygen is no longer something his lungs are gasping for, so he figures he’ll live.
And then he looks up.
Kendall’s face is close. Like, really close. James goes cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze, to reassure him that he’s fine. He doesn’t need the Heimlich or anything.
“Hey, you’ve got-“ Kendall’s thumb moves to the corner of James’s lips, smoothing away a sticky smear of hot chocolate. He lingers there, long after the chocolate is gone, staring at James with an expression that James can’t really identify.
No one’s ever looked at him like this, not even the crazy girls in their grade who are always following him longingly with their eyes. James feels weird with Kendall’s thumb pressed up against the corner of his mouth, and he presses his lips together. Kendall’s eyes snap down, following the movement.
There’s this fluttery moment, where all James can feel is his heart pounding in his chest, the way Kendall’s gaze rests against his mouth like a physical weight, and the warmth of his thumb. His ears roar with possibilities.
Kendall kisses him, and it tastes like hot chocolate and sweetness; like rainwater and earth. Behind that there is the spark of something exciting and foreign, something that zings through James’s veins all the way down to his toes. Kendall’s thumbs press into the skin behind James’s ears, and his lips are soft and dry and warm. James is wet and shivery and so cold, and the house is too still. He feels like the silence might swallow him. The heat of Kendall’s hands and lips is the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.
It’s his first kiss, and he feels like it doesn’t belong to him.
James rips himself away, wincing as Kendall accidentally pulls out a bit of his hair.
“I- havetogo,” he talks so quickly that his words bump into each other, one starting right on the end of the last, none of it making any sense.
Kendall is staring at him, gape mouthed and disappointed, but James can’t help it. He yells, “So, uh, bye!” already bolting out the door.
James doesn’t know what to think or what to do. He’s always idol-worshipped Kendall, but James likes girls. Doesn’t he? His tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth. His lips taste like Kendall. The only thing he’s sure about is that Shane can never find out.
James pedals back home as quickly as he can. It’s still pouring, and he wipes out on wet concrete once, tearing a hole straight through his jeans to bloody his knee. When he gets home, he leaves a trail of puddles and despair in the foyer of his house. All he wants is to go to sleep. Tomorrow, maybe everything will be clearer.
Or not. James finds Shane curled up on his bed. He didn’t go back to their dad’s. James wonders whether Shane’s waiting for news of how it went with Kendall or if he’s just waiting for James. James decides, just this once, that he’ll pretend it’s the latter. He pulls back the covers, shucking his shirt and jeans and sliding into bed. His skin is cold and clammy, but Shane is warm, slow breathing and a gentle heartbeat. James snuggles up against him.
He falls asleep watching the soft rise and fall of his brother’s chest, caught somewhere between hate and love. When James wakes up in the morning, Shane is already gone.
---
James walks onto the ice an hour before practice to narrowly avoid losing all of his teeth.
“Dude, sor- James?” a familiar voice shouts from across the rink.
James waves, trying to be like, no worries. He’s not all that attached to his teeth. That’s a lie, but still. It’s Kendall. He can’t find it in him to be mad when all he can think about is the ghost of those gorgeous lips on his.
Wait. Gorgeous?
James frowns, confused. Which isn’t exactly a new feeling. Confusion is where he lives. He’s got a white picket fence and a flower garden there and everything. Still.
That doesn’t mean he likes the neighborhood.
Kendall skates over while James is in the midst of a very serious mental-lecture about how kissing boys is wrong.
He’s just having trouble remembering why.
“What are you doing here?”
“Practice?” James replies, bewildered. He lifts his duffel bag and offers Kendall a shy, albeit confused smile.
“I- but-“ Kendall looks tongue tied. “Your stupid brother’s going to a stupid new school. In Seattle.”
“Oh,” James replies, like this is news.
“It’s not even a private school- it’s public. They’ve just got some amazing honors program for avionics or audio visual nerds or something. Stupid,” Kendall rambles on. He seems to have lost the thread of where he was going with this conversation.
“I’m still here.” James shrugs, because he figures that won’t be much solace to the kid.
“You’re not going to special school?” Kendall twirls his stick in his hands, and he actually looks nervous.
“Nope. Not smart enough. Besides, it would take a lot to get my mom to let me leave the state. The only reason Shane gets to go is ‘cause he chose to stick it out with dad and his new wife.”
“Oh,” Kendall echoes his earlier statement. “Um. I didn’t know you were staying.”
James figures Kendall probably doesn’t know very much about him at all. He doubts he even crossed Kendall’s mind when he found out Shane was leaving. Which isn’t really fair, considering that it seems like Kendall and that kiss are all James is ever going to be able to think about for the rest of eternity.
“I am. Um. Want to practice?”
Kendall grins. They kickstart a one on one game of hockey, batting the puck around for a bit.
“Hey, you’re really good,” Kendall says, sounding surprised. “Have you always been this good?”
“Pretty much,” James lies, because he’s been giving himself extra practice time for years to get to the level he’s at, all in the hopes that Kendall would take notice.
If only he’d known all he had to do was pretend to be his brother, he thinks bitterly.
“Show me that move again,” Kendall instructs. He’s smiling broadly and brightly, and it’s all focused completely on James.
For the first time, Kendall is noticing him for something other than Shane. The bitterness fades, just a little, and James shows Kendall the fancy fakeout he learned all on his own.
---
After that, James begins spending more and more time with Kendall. First at practice, then in school, and then on weekends. Logan tags along, never far from James to begin with, and then Carlos joins the group. It gets to be so that James forgets there was ever a time Kendall wasn’t deeply ingrained in his life; when they weren’t soaking girl’s field hockey teams or playing paintball or dancing around Kendall’s room like lunatics, singing made up songs about nothing. It takes nearly years, but he forgets that James Diamond was not always Kendall Knight’s best friend.
James does not forget about the kiss.
It kills James wondering if that was Kendall’s first kiss too, or if he’s done it with Shane a million times before. It would explain why Kendall always liked Shane so damn much, and why he was never even able to notice James until Shane left. Sometimes James wonders if he’s just a replacement. But James can’t bring himself to ask. His friendship with Kendall is just starting to grow into something real. He’s not willing to give it up for petty jealousy.
Shane is a million miles away now.
Even so, as he and Logan and Carlos and Kendall become a kind of unit in Shane’s absence, the kiss sits pretty in the back of his mind.
Whenever Kendall looks at him a certain way, eyes electric, smile flaring across his face as bright and brilliant as a firework, James’s lips tingle in remembrance. It doesn’t matter if they’re on the ice or doing something idiotic at school or just chilling in the Sherwood Parking lot while Kendall works. The kiss is always there, haunting him.
Before, he just wanted to be Kendall’s friend. But now? Being so close to Kendall, every single day? Yeah, James doesn’t only like girls anymore. He can’t understand how everyone Kendall meets isn’t pinning him down and ravishing him.
Kendall doesn’t help anything at all by being wonderful and amazing and James’s hero in all things, especially when he scores a record deal in California that he refuses to take without James and Carlos and Logan at his side. No one’s ever done anything so nice for James, not once in his entire life. If he hadn’t already been in love with Kendall, he probably would have fallen for him at that moment. And life in California? It’s pretty much everything that James has ever dreamed about.
It’s all going so perfectly, until the day he gets the call.
---
James stares at the phone for close to an hour after he hangs up. He wants to have dreamed the entire conversation. He clicks back, checking the caller ID on his cell. Nope. Still not a dream. He thinks about going down to the pool and attempting to drown himself. Instead he buries his head in the bright orange pillows of their couch and hopes to god that Seattle has a horrible, flight-grounding storm.
The door to the apartment opens, but James doesn’t bother trying to see who it is. He finds out seconds later anyway.
“Hey.” The couch settles with familiar weight. Kendall shoves James’s feet off the nearest cushion, scooting closer, and James is forced to sit up straight. Kendall takes the opportunity to hook their legs together, sagging into James’s side. “Scoot over.”
“Find your own couch,” James says, but he’s already moving, giving Kendall some space so that he can stretch out. He doesn’t, though, content to lean most of his weight onto James. It doesn’t dull the throb of dread pricking at James’s temples, but it does perk him up a teensy bit. James pulls Kendall a little tighter to his side.
Kendall’s so exhausted that he barely even notices. Gustavo’s been riding him hard for extra choreography practice ever since he messed up at a live concert. He comes back from the studio later than the rest of them, reeking of exhaustion.
“What are we watching?”
James glances at the TV. “Zombie Strippers. They’re strippers who are also zombies. It’s genius.”
“Is my mom-“
“Nope, she’s out cold for the night.”
“Cool.” Kendall settles his head down against James’s chest. He murmurs, “How was your day?” into James’s armpit. His face is warm.
“Oh. Um. Good. Shane’s coming to visit.”
“Really?” Kendall mumbles. “S’nice. Shane’s awesome.”
Great. Shane is awesome and James is a pillow. He wants to make some witty retort, but Kendall’s asleep within seconds. James sighs, running his fingers through Kendall’s hair. He smells like sweat and strawberry smoothies.
He smells like home.
---
James makes a more generalized announcement about his brother’s surprise visit the following morning over pancakes.
“So, uh. Guys. My brother’s coming to visit. On Monday. Two days from now. He just told me.” James looks immediately to Mrs. Knight. “Is that okay?”
He kind of hopes she’ll say no.
“Of course, sweetie. He’s your brother.”
James suppresses an eye roll. His relationship with Shane since he moved to Seattle mostly consists of awkward phone conversations that devolve into belittling each other’s life choices, punctuated by static and a lot of resentment. He has more in common with Katie. Shared blood shouldn’t excuse the inherent rudeness of showing up at someone’s door without an invitation.
“Wait, Shane’s actually coming?” Kendall asks through a bite of pancake. “Thought I dreamed that.”
Because apparently Kendall dreams about Shane. Awesome.
“Chew with your mouth closed,” Mrs. Knight commands. Kendall’s jaw snaps shut.
“Sweet,” Carlos says. “Your brother’s pretty awesome.”
“Shane is not awesome.” James is really starting to hate that word. He shovels a forkful of pancake in his mouth to keep from saying more.
“He’s fantastically awesome,” Katie counters. “And hot.”
James chokes, flailing for air and knocking over his fork in the process. He gulps in a big breath of air. “What? He looks just like me!”
“I’ve never seen him have a burp off with Kendall.” Katie replies airily.
“H’yeah, you have,” Kendall mumbles through his food. “You just don’t remember it.”
“Besides.” Katie glares at Kendall. “Geek chic is in, obviously.”
James takes it back. He has nothing in common with Katie. Geek chic will never be in.
“You guys never said that to me,” Logan butts in, indignant.
“I said chic, not-“ Katie waves a hand in the air over Logan’s general outline, nose wrinkling.
“Rude,” Logan retorts. James feels for him. Mostly because Logan is the only one who looks less than pleased with this development. He begins mumbling something about planetary alignment under his breath. When Carlos asks him what he’s on about, Logan announces, “Pluto’s not even a planet. So I win.”
Shane’s already frying the poor kid’s nerves, and he’s not even in the state yet.
James doesn’t even blame Logan for it. He’s pretty frazzled too. James is all grown up now. He’s way cooler than Kendall. But Kendall is still the only person who ever seems to beat him at anything, the only person who ever seems anything like a challenge. The only person who ever seems worth it. And Shane’s going to walk into the apartment and sweep Kendall off his feet.
Panic rises in James like a tide.
That can’t be allowed to happen.
As soon as breakfast is over, James launches into full scale nuclear meltdown mode. He marches back and forth across the living room, treading the imprint of his sneakers into the carpet over and over again, mumbling to himself.
“What exactly is your problem right now?” Kendall asks from his perch on the couch. He’s been watching James pace for close to fifteen minutes.
“We have to impress him.”
“What?”
“We have to impress him.”
“Who?”
“Shane. Kendall, you’re not listening, we have to impress him.”
“Why? It’s just Shane.”
“Exactly. He thinks I’m a huge loser,” James mutters, the sting of admitting it out loud too visceral for his taste. His brother should not have this effect on him when he hasn’t even stepped foot in the apartment yet.
“He does not think that.”
“How do you know? Have you been talking to him?” James asks. His voice comes out more sharply than he intends and Kendall gives him an inscrutable look.
“Sure. We’re buds.”
James’s gut clenches, but he says, “Oh. I didn’t, um. Know that.”
Buds. He mouths the word to himself.
James shouldn’t be this insecure. He’s Kendall’s best friend. Not Shane. Shane is just- his bud.
What does that even mean?
“We need to have a party,” James decides.
“A party for Shane?” Kendall asks, doubtfully. It’s clear that he doesn’t think that’s the best idea James has ever had.
“A party that Shane can come to and see how awesome I am.”
Duh. Kendall is so dense sometimes.
“I don’t think a party’s going to convince-“
“Of course it is,” James snaps. He knows Kendall’s right, but there’s no way to say that he wants Shane to come to a party so that James can show off how well he gets along with Kendall in a social setting out loud. It would sound silly and shallow.
Both of which are things James freely admits he is, but he likes it when Kendall looks at him like…like he’s a bigger person.
Besides, it’s pretty big of James to throw Shane a party, considering. It’s the nice thing to do. Humanitarian, even.
“Right,” James says slowly, drawing out the word. “Carlos?
Carlos peeks out from his nest in the swirly slide. James isn’t sure what it is that he does up there, and he doesn’t feel like now is the time to ask. “This party needs to be bangin’, man. Can you call the Russian Acrobats?”
“I think they got deported back to Russia,” Carlos worries at his lip. “I know some circus clowns.”
“Clowns.” James shudders, because he’s pretty sure there is a childhood birthday party memory somewhere that explains his conviction that all clowns have razor sharp teeth and claws, like the raptors in Jurassic Park. Except with painted faces and knives.
“So that’s a negatory on the clowns,” Carlos agrees, like he can actually see inside of James’s morbid fantasy. Maybe he can. Carlos has always been strangely in sync with his brain.
“Right. Right, okay. New plan. I need- Doesn’t our school have an AV club?”
From the couch, Kendall drawls. “Yeah. Its name is Tyler.”
“Tyler. I need Tyler.”
James finds Tyler hiding behind a potted palm in the lobby. “Tyler. Dude. I need you to hook me up.”
“Shh, not so loud. My mom’s over there,” Tyler gestures frantically towards his mother, who is hurrying through the Palmwoods like she’s training for a marathon, hollering Tyler’s name.
“Yeah, but. I need your help.”
Tyler looks at him doubtfully. “I know a girl in 3K who would date you, but-“
James is aghast.
“Do I look like I need dating help?”
“You have been single for an awfully long time.”
James has to decide between being mightily offended or begging for help. As much as it pains him, he chooses the latter. “I need help with this party I’m throwing.”
“You’re going to try to sneak a party past Mr. Bitters again? You never learn.”
“I need the best sound system and the most impressive visual equipment you can find. We’re going to blow his little mind out of the water.”
“Who? Is someone coming? A movie star?”
“Worse,” James makes a disparaging noise. “My brother.”
---
Looking at Shane is like looking into a funhouse mirror after three years apart. He’s scrawny and thin in all the places where James has built up layers of muscle. His skin is pale, his fashion sense is awful, and his haircut is something that needs to be rectified immediately.
Their faces are the same, but the way he smiles is different, less confident, more self deprecating. And Shane’s eyes- they definitely do not have the same eyes. Shane’s are sharp with intelligence. James isn’t sure what lies behind his eyes, but it’s certainly not that piercing look, like he can see through anything.
“He looks just like you.” Carlos blinks. “Wow. I forgot.”
James wants to shake him, because there is no part of them that is alike.
“Shane!” Kendall cheers, enveloping him in a big hug. James’s hands clench into fists at his sides. And now they’re all looking at him, expecting him to have some kind of reaction to his brother’s triumphant arrival. Problem is, James doesn’t know what reaction he’s supposed to have. He’s not close to Shane, the same way he’s not really close to his dad or his stepmom or his grandparents. His mom’s the only one he has any kind of connection with.
Sometimes his family feels like satellites. They’re all stuck in orbit, circling each other but never quite connecting.
Carlos hisses, “Hug him.”
James thinks he’d rather stab his eyes out with a fork and eat them. He forces a smile. “Hi.”
Shane’s easy grin falters, all goodwill vanishing. He doesn’t say you’re not happy to see me, but the thought is broadcast, loud and clear.
“James,” Kendall mutters, kicking James lightly in the back of his heel. The rubber of his Vans catches on the hair on James’s ankle, pulling. James winces. He tries to force a better smile, but it’s not like he’s fooling anyone, least of all Shane. Which is so not cool, because James prides himself on being a talented actor. The least his brother could do is pretend to accept James’s act, like a non-socially awkward human being.
Behind him, James hears a huff, and then Kendall offers, “I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep while James attempts to stop being a loser.”
“He probably will not succeed,” Carlos hisses conspicuously. James frowns at him, but Carlos is not crushed by the weight of his disapproval. Jerk.
At least Logan’s on his side, sitting cross legged on the couch and completely ignoring Shane’s presence. He has a gigantic book tucked in his hands that proudly declares, Pluto: No Longer A Planet, like he’s making a point.
Logan is the king of all things passive aggressive.
“Am I bunking with you?” Shane asks James, who is kind of occupied with pouting. Kendall just called him a loser. And yeah, okay, maybe he is acting like a dick, and maybe the guys all throw insults at each other like breathing on a normal day, but Kendall’s not supposed to put James down for Shane.
James is so busy trying to process his hurt that he fails to answer. Kendall’s eyes narrow. Shane’s smile flickers, again.
“If James is going to be a jerk, you can come bunk in our room. We used to sleep together all the time,” Kendall reminds Shane casually, and yeah, he’s probably talking about sleepovers and camping trips, but James can’t help the lump that forms in his throat.
Shane’s watching him, and James tries to school his face.
“You know, I think I’d rather snuggle with Logan,” Shane announces cheerfully.
Logan makes this indistinguishable noise before trying to form something more syllabic, “I mean what?”
“You can do that,” Kendall says without missing a beat. “Logie and I are roommates.”
“Kendall,” Logan squeaks, “You’re consorting with the enemy.”
“Shane is not the enemy,” Kendall replies with a well placed eye-roll. “Don’t be dumb.”
“I’m a genius,” Logan objects, horrified.
“Then act like it.”
“James,” Logan pleads. James holds up his hands. He’s all for Shane being the enemy, but he doesn’t want anything to do with the Intergalactic Federation of Dorkdom. It’s a fight that’s way older than his own.
Apparently, James says that out loud, because now Shane and Logan have both turned on him, equal parts fire and fury. Logan is all puffed up like a hot air balloon. His face even starts to turn a little red. Shane’s gaze has turned dagger sharp. Kendall actually has the nerve to look amused by this turn of events. His smirk is completely uncalled for; he’s the one who coined the term in the first place.
“Did I say dorkdom? I, um. Meant-”
“What are you fighting me for, James?” Shane cuts in before he can make a complete fool of himself. Logan cocks an eyebrow. James really wants him to say something about Pluto, but he looks pretty interested in the conversation at hand. Damn.
“Um. Which of us is mom’s favorite,” James says lamely. Lamely because he’s their mother’s favorite, and they both know it. Shane may be more like their clever, driven, ambitious mother than James could ever hope to be, but Shane’s not the one who stuck around after the divorce. Sometimes James wonders if he did stay because he wanted to make up for being so much like their dad. If he wanted to prove that he could be loyal.
Or if it was all just for Kendall and the fact that he didn’t have a fancy smart school to go to.
“Follow me,” Kendall instructs, breaking the awkward silence that’s formed in the middle of the living room. Shane gives James a long, hard look, and then he does.
James stares after them until Carlos announces that someone needs to take him to the park for corndogs. James takes him, but he still feels sick inside.
Later that night, he tosses and turns, imagining Shane and Kendall in bed together. It makes something hot and sharp slice through his heart, something molten pool in his belly.
Shane’s only been here five minutes, and James can’t wait for him to leave.
---
Part Two