Fic: Going Back, Going Home (1/2)
Fic: Going Back, Going Home
Rating/Warnings: Hard R for drugs and alcohol, addiction, child abuse, some non-explicit sex.
Pairings: James/Kendall
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think this show was created just for me, but alas, still not mine.
Notes: Angst and sadness, because apparently that's what my brain does with the world's zaniest canon. idk. Also, this is meant to be a one-shot, but ended up too long for on LJ post.
Summary: Kendall goes to the rink to connect with his past. James wants to be famous to forget about his. Futurefic.
Every time I come back in this town I know
I've finally learned the difference between going back and going home
-- Butch Walker, Going Back/Going Home
There are a few bars in Kendall's hometown, but his favorite is the Old Firehouse, which is actually, technically, named Jim's Bar. It's just that Kendall has lived there long enough that he, like most of the town, will always remember that the building used to be a firehouse. To avoid confusion, everyone calls the current firehouse The Old Post Office, and the current post office is The New Post Office, even though the buildings all shifted locations almost a decade ago. Small town living is more confusing than most people realize.
Kendall likes the Old Firehouse. Jim -- a friendly, retired fireman -- invites him to perform every now and then, and gives him free drinks in exchange for Kendall waiving the rental fee when his grandson skates at Kendall's rink. It's always a pretty chill atmosphere, a nice mix of old-timers watching hockey at the bar and townies playing darts and pool. Kendall finishes his set to a smattering of applause and waves, then puts his guitar away. He hands it to Jim to stow behind the bar until he's ready to go, but instead of handing him his regular, Jim nods down the bar. Kendall looks, and...
James doesn't wear subtle well. He's made an effort; he's not wearing anything flashy or expensive looking, though Kendall would lay money on a bet that James' casual jeans cost at least a few hundred dollars. James also has a hood pulled up, and he's staring at his hands, splayed in front of him on the bar.
Something is really, really wrong. James hasn't been home in years, and there's no way he would show up out of the blue like this unless it's a crisis. And if it is, he should have called.
Kendall walks down, clears his throat, and says cautiously, "Hey, stranger."
James looks up at him, and James looks broken. There's no smile, nothing behind his eyes but desperation. He says, "Kendall," and it sounds like he's begging.
"What's wrong?" Kendall asks, even as he holds up two fingers to Jim. Thank god, Jim must see the state James is in, because he goes for hard liquor, pouring them both doubles.
James says, "My mom died."
Kendall's world goes out from under him. James' mom... Well, James loves his mom, even though Kendall's not sure she's always deserved it. He swallows, wanting to ask how and when, but he knows James will volunteer when he's ready, so Kendall just says, "I'm sorry."
They drink in quiet for a few minutes. Someone else takes the stage, and Kendall winces at a voice that can't quite warble through the high notes it keeps going for.
James finishes his drink, and Kendall catches Jim's eye. Another appears on the bar. Eventually, James says, "She was sober. I guess that's something."
Kendall nods. It's no small thing, either. James put his mom into treatment at least three times, and it never quite succeeded. James never gave up on her, though. Kendall knows it broke James' heart every time she relapsed, every time she moved back to Minnesota and Dennis instead of staying with him.
There's nothing Kendall can say to make James feel better, and he knows it. So they drink and don't talk. It must be pretty clear to everyone that this is not a good time, because James is usually mobbed everywhere he goes, but almost no one approaches. Just the singer. James manages to fake a smile, shake his hand, and that's that. Kendall quits drinking after his second, but he keeps James in booze, and for a change he insists on paying up. Jim didn't sign up for this, and James can hold a lot of liquor.
It takes more than an hour before James is swaying silently on his stool. He looks up at Kendall, who nods. "C'mon, Jamie," a nickname James stopped letting him use when they were 13, "let's go home."
James slurs, "I got a room."
"Whatever," Kendall says, and supports James as they stagger out. They'll come collect James' rental tomorrow. Kendall pours James into his passenger seat and drives home. James takes heaving, deep breaths that Kendall knows are him struggling to keep control, and Kendall doesn't even pause when they get to his house. His mom is asleep in her room, so he makes a shhing noise as he pulls James to his. It isn't like this is the first time they've snuck in, trying not to wake her, though it's been years. Since they were kids.
James must think the same thing. "Like old times," he mumbles, as Kendall pulls off his Buster Clydes. James neither fights nor helps as Kendall gets him stripped down to boxer-briefs and folds his clothes. Then Kendall hesitates, hand on the doorknob, ready to go sleep in the den, unless --
James says, "Don't go."
Kendall doesn't. Just like he knew he wouldn't from the second he saw James in the bar. And it isn't exactly comfortable but it is familiar when he falls asleep with James wrapped around him, holding on as if his life depends on it.
--
Kendall wakes to his mother's voice: "What kind of eggs? Oh!"
She's opened his door. Kendall sits up, and next to him, James groans blearily. "Hey, Mom," Kendall says.
"Got enough for an extra?" James adds, pushing himself up. Then, shyly, as if she hadn't known him his whole life, "Hey, Mrs. Knight."
"It's been a long time," she says, stepping in.
Kendall gets up and makes an excuse about brushing his teeth. He leaves them, but glances back. His mother has an arm around James and he's staring at the ground. Kendall leaves them, thinking that she was a better mother to James that James' own ever was.
Kendall makes coffee and reads the paper as he waits. When James appears, he looks exhausted, and Kendall doubts it's the hangover.
His mom makes then breakfast. Kendall's phone rings. He picks it up guiltily, not wanting to bother with anything but James, but he should be on his way to the rink. "Hey, Steph, I can't..."
"Can't..?" she prompts. She runs the business side of the rink, and Kendall likes that she doesn't usually let him slide when he's got work to do. It's good for him, but not right now.
"I've got a family crisis. I won't be around for a few days."
"Is your mom okay? I'll get Chris here to open--"
"She's fine. Thanks. I'll... I'll try to be in touch, but I've got to run."
After he hangs up, James cocks his head and asks, "I'm family?"
"Well, you're a crisis," Kendall teases, but he's relieved. It was the first thing James has said that's actually sounded like James.
"So honey, what... happened?" his mom asks.
James shrugs. "It was just... After everything she did to herself, she was in bad shape. It was a heart attack, and by the time Dennis found her..."
"I'm so sorry," she says, and kisses James' head as she walks by to start the dishes. "What can we do to help?"
"Nothing, Mrs. Knight. I'm fine. I've already imposed, Kendall, if you can just give me a lift I'll get my car--"
"And your stuff from your hotel, and bring it back here," Kendall interrupts.
"Not what I was going to say."
Kendall raises his eyebrows, daring James to argue, and James doesn't. Kendall knows it wasn't a coincidence that James was at that bar. James needs help, and James has always, always come to Kendall. If Kendall knew from the moment he saw James that he'd end up getting James through the night, well, James must have known from the minute he drove up that there was no way Kendall would leave him to deal with this on his own.
"I should let my assistant know I'm not dead, though," James says, and Kendall can tell he's trying to force some cheer into his voice. "Actually, I should swing by and talk with him."
"I'll go with you," Kendall says.
James gives him a grateful look. They both kiss Kendall's mom on the cheek on their way out, and after they pick up James' rental (a surprisingly non-flashy car, fitting the low profile he's obviously hoping to keep) Kendall leads the way downtown, or what passes for it in their town. There's an area that's got a bunch of artsy shops, and sheltered between that and the stripmalls and grocery stores is a handful of hotels, restaurants, and office buildings. (And, Kendall thinks guiltily, his rink.)
James' assistant, Rob, is a kid in his early 20s. When he looks at James his eyes practically turn into cartoon hearts. Kendall wonders if that's why James hired him -- not that James would do that on purpose or anything, but he's like a dog rescued from the shelter. He's desperate for love and affection, and will be loyal to the end to anyone who gives that to him. Even when they don't really deserve it.
Kendall sinks into an armchair in Rob's suite guiltily, keeping an ear on the conversation. As Rob lets James know what still needs to be done for the funeral, Kendall has the worst thought he's ever, ever had: James' life might actually be a lot easier now.
James' mom was definitely a drain on him. Always. Kendall remembers being a little afraid of her when they were kids, when he didn't understand why she always seemed a kind of weird. He's not sure she's ever had a job for more than a few months at a time, except around when she and Dennis got married. And after the band actually started getting successful, she and Dennis were both terrible. James wasn't 18 yet and they spent his money like it was nothing. Thank god Kelly and Gustavo had created a trust fund for him, or James would have been broke when he finally was a legal adult. Since then, he's still supported them. If it wasn't for James, they'd have lost the house, for sure. It's a miracle they haven't spent more time in jail. James talked his mom into rehab a few times, but Dennis refused, and he always, always ruined everything. And now...
Now it's over. Kendall hates himself for being relieved because he shouldn't be glad anyone is dead. He does wish it was Dennis instead, but he's always wished that and doesn't feel bad about it anymore.
Rob has already taken care of a lot of the planning. James looks guilty instead of relieved, but agrees with everything Rob's done. It'll be in two days, all James has left to do is go to the funeral home and settle some details -- and let everyone know where and when. Rob offers to do it for him, if James just gives him a list. James shakes him off, though, and insists on doing it himself.
Kendall sits and listens as James has the same conversation over and over again. Yes, it was sudden. He can't believe it, either. Saturday, two o'clock. Yeah, he's canceled some shows, and he's taking a few days for himself while he copes. Thanks for the support. Thanks for coming. Okay. Bye. Over and over and over. Kendall tenses every time it's obvious someone has asked James about his career, brought up the fact that he's actually really famous, but James always just barrels through. Kendall doesn't know how. Eventually, Rob walks over to Kendall silently, hands him a takeout menu. He doesn't interrupt James, but when the food arrives, James shoots him a thankful smile and Rob swoons. Whatever he ordered must be right, then.
Thank god, James is smart enough to save Carlos and Logan for last. Neither of them can actually make it -- Carlos' show is still filming, Logan doesn't have anyone to take his patient load off his hands -- but they're both in LA, anyway. James promises them both he'll call the second he's back in town, and Kendall's grateful they'll be there to take care of James. He'd go himself, but there are another few weeks left before he shuts the rink down for the season.
James slumps in his chair after he hangs up with Carlos. He drinks the rest of his water. He sits there. Kendall waits. James picks his phone back up and dials.
Kendall hadn't realized there was anyone else to call. When James says, "Yeah. It's James," he knows who it is. He goes tense as James continues: "Yeah, I -- yes. Of fucking course I'm here. I'm planning my mom's funeral, where the hell have you been? Saturday. Two. Try to get sober first, if you bother showing up."
James hangs up, but before Kendall can say anything, try to help, do anything, James hurls his phone at the wall. It breaks into a few pieces that crash to the floor. James turns away from Kendall, from Rob, hands clenched into fists.
Kendall stands up. "Come on. We're going skating."
James turns back, stares at him. "Now?" His voice is tense, he's doing that deep breath, barely-holding-it-together thing again.
"It's a weekday. We'll practically have the place to ourselves. You need to... you need to do something."
"Don't have my skates," James snaps, as if that'll be an excuse when the rink has plenty for rent.
But Rob clears his throat. "I, uh, I actually packed them for you. I mean, you... I thought maybe, I know you used to play hockey as a kid, so..."
"Thanks," James says. His voice is coming back to normal. "That's really thoughtful."
Rob ducks his head, hiding an enormous smile at the praise, Kendall's sure. He stands up, says he'll find them in James' stuff, and starts going through suitcases. Kendall shoots a significant look at him, then back at James. James ignores it and Kendall tries not to care. He tells himself it's not his business if James is sleeping with his assistant. James dates women publicly and sleeps with men privately -- women too, but that's never bothered Kendall. Bothered is the wrong word, but...
Kendall forces himself to stop that trail of thought. He says to Rob, "You should come with us. I'll waive the rental fee and everything."
Rob looks up, shakes his head quickly. "No, I... I should go get that phone fixed. Well, replaced. They can probably get out the data card, though, or..."
"Thanks," James says.
Rob shrugs. "It's what I'm here for. Here." He finally finds the skates, and Kendall isn't even surprised to see them. They're custom made, designed by Buster Clyde, but Kendall's willing to bet they're also damn fine skates, not just flashy. Rob hands them to James, who stands up.
"Well, Knight, come on. If I'm gonna kick your ass around your own rink, we should get going."
"Pretty sad that after your whole rockstar life, that's still your wildest dream," Kendall returns.
James throws a wave to Rob and they head out. It feels weirdly thrilling to know that James doesn't have his phone, that he's actually off the grid for awhile. That Kendall will have his undivided attention.
The rink isn't too far away. James' skates are tied together at the laces, they dangle from one of his hands as he follows Kendall in. Kendall leads him in through the back door, closer to his office. That's where they both change into their skates. Kendall doesn't miss the pile of papers on his desk, stuff Steph probably needs him to sign, and he wonders what James thinks of this place, Kendall's home away from home. He wonders if James notices the cane in the corner.
Kendall never planned to buy the rink. He wanted to play hockey. But on their last tour there was an accident with one of the stage trap doors, it slammed shut on Kendall, though Kendall doesn't remember much except waking in the hospital. They had to cancel weeks of shows. He's got a metal rod in his leg now, and it took him weeks to be able to walk again, even with the cane. It ended any hope he still had for hockey -- yeah, now he's recovered in full, except occasional twinges when the weather's changing or whatever. He can even skate, but there's no way he could take the abuse of hockey.
The rink sort of fell into his lap. He'd just moved home when he saw it was shutting its doors. Kendall took a chunk of his BTR money and bought it. The previous owner couldn't turn nearly enough profit off it, and neither can Kendall, but the difference is Kendall doesn't need to. He turned all his financials over to Katie ages ago, she's invested smartly, and Kendall doesn't keep track much but he's pretty sure he's worth way more now than he was the day the band broke up. So he keeps this rink open because he loves it, and if he didn't want summers free to travel he'd give up on any pretense of making a profit and just keep it open year round.
He and James both move on skates as easily as in shoes. They clomp through the hall, into the lobby -- Kendall glances at Steph, who's doing paperwork behind the rental counter, and she raises her eyebrows -- and then to the ice. He was right, there are only a few people out. Kids have school, adults have work, and basically no one thinks to go skating after the snow's finally melted off.
Kendall knows within seconds that this was the right place to bring James. James hits the ice and is off like a shot, all of his pent up emotions from the last few days coming loose as he moves. Kendall doesn't bother trying to keep up at first, just takes it easy as James laps him, laps him again, then actually executes a really nice turn so he's skating backwards just in front of Kendall. Kendall's impressed; James probably doesn't get to skate too often, but he hasn't lost any of his skill.
"So does that rod in your leg mean you always skate someone's grandmother?" James taunts.
Kendall laughs. James is good, but Kendall's on this ice every day. He reaches out, one hand to James' shoulder, says, "Tag," and takes off. James yells and comes after him, and it's three laps before James catches him. They thread their way around the few other skaters, moving so fast that a wipeout could do serious damage, but even with their friendly shoves as they pass one another, neither loses his balance at all.
It's half an hour before Kendall feels the twinge in his leg. He ignores it until it becomes a steady throb, and he grimaces against the pain. He's covered in sweat now, though, and he knows from frustrating years of experience that if he doesn't knock it off soon, he won't be able to move without agony for a few days.
He finally gives in, flags down James, and points at his leg. James cuts around and halts, his face fallen. Kendall says, "I'm sorry, it's just --"
"No, shit, I should have remembered. Do you need... need help, or... Kendall, I'm sorry."
"I'm fine, Jamie. I just need some ice and some aspirin." And not the cane. He's absolutely not using a cane in front of James, because James will find a way to blame himself. He obviously already does. Kendall moves slowly, carefully, so James won't see him limp or wince when he puts weight on it.
As they head off the ice, he sees they've gained an audience. Steph is watching from the entrance. "Hey," Kendall says. "Uh, Steph, James; James, Steph."
"Sorry for monopolizing his time," James puts in.
"It's no problem," Steph says. "I do most of the work around here anyway."
"True," Kendall admits. He collapses into his chair in his office, trying not to let on what a relief it is to get off his feet, and unlaces his skates. "So she can spare me for a few days."
"But if you're busy, who'll be around here to be late signing timecards and forget to review all the work I do? And gosh, who'll be here to be sarcastic and think he's way smarter than he is?"
James laughs, and Kendall says cheerfully, "You're fired."
"You couldn't live without me and you know it."
"That's a lot of credit you're giving yourself," he says. "I could definitely live without you. I just I couldn't run this place."
"And you couldn't live without somewhere to skate," she says.
"Point. Fine. You win. I can't live without you, please don't ever leave me."
"Thank you."
James looks up at them, amused. "It's good you've got him trained. He used to be so stubborn."
Kendall puts his bad leg up and grimaces at the effort, then digs into his desk drawer and pulls out the painkillers. He downs three and says to James, "Don't encourage her."
"You seem really familiar," James says.
Steph nods. "I was a few years behind you in school. Stephanie Rowe?"
"Right." James snaps his fingers. "Your older sister was a cheerleader, right? Trisha? I think we went out a few times."
She nods. "Yeah, she still brags about that, actually."
James laughs. "So how is she? Still in town?"
"Um, yeah." Steph looks at him like he's grown another head.
"You two should come out with us tonight," James says.
Steph glances at Kendall. "Yeah, I mean, if my boss will give me the evening off. He's dumping some extra work on me this week, though..."
"Yeah, 'cause you ever do anything I ask you to," Kendall says.
"Most of what you ask me to do is stupid."
"Seriously," James says. "My phone isn't working right now, but Kendall will call you with details. We'll see you there. Somewhere. My treat."
"I guess we'll be there. Trish would probably kill me if I said no, anyway."
"Great." James flashes her the rockstar smile, and she giggles. Kendall rolls his eyes and holds out a hand. James hauls him up and Kendall stifles a groan as he puts weight on his leg.
"See you then," Kendall says.
"Don't take any of your paperwork with you as you go or anything!" Steph calls after them.
"You're driving," Kendall says, and hands the keys to James. He doesn't want to agitate his leg. After he buckles up, he adds, "So what the hell was that?"
"Was what?"
"You really want to go out with Trisha Rowe?"
"No," James says. "But you and Stephanie sure seem to want to do each other. So have you two ever had sex on your desk?"
"You really are an idiot."
"You and she never...?"
"No! I'm her boss. And she doesn't -- we don't -- I hate you."
"You love me." James shoots him a grin, looking and sounding more like himself than he has all day. "You can't fool me, though, you totally have a thing for her."
"Unlike you, I don't sleep with people who work for me."
"I'm not sleeping with Rob."
Kendall ignores the irrational surge of relief he feels at that, and says, "You know he wants you."
"So does everyone. I'm very good looking, Kendall." James shakes his head. "Rob's a sweet kid. I don't want to break his heart or anything, and I'm not... you know, I don't think I'll ever be ready to commit or anything, so... So what's your excuse with Steph?"
"What?"
"Why haven't you just asked her out? And don't give me that boss crap, she obviously doesn't care."
Kendall mulls it over as they make their way to the more residential area of town where he lives. After all these years, James still remembers the way. Finally, he just says, "I don't know. Maybe I'm not big on commitment, either."
"Well, see how it goes tonight." James takes a hand off the wheel to jostle his shoulder. "So how's your leg?"
"Fine."
"Liar. You're icing that as soon as we're home, even if I have to hold you down to make you do it."
Kendall scowls. He'd rather do the care-taking than have someone take care of him. But when they get home, he grudgingly takes out an icepack and elevates his leg some more, propping it up on the living room table. James sits next to him, leaning against him.
They're still just hanging out, joking and jostling each other while Kendall ices his leg, and everything is fine when Kendall's phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and doesn't know the number, but when he answers, it's Rob, panicked. "Some guy -- he showed up, he says he knows James -- this hotel doesn't even have security and I don't know what to --"
"Is he still there?"
"No, no, he screamed at me about James, and he left."
Kendall winces and says, "Okay. We'll take care of it. Sorry about that, it's... We'll be by to get James' stuff, too."
"Okay," Rob says, and he sounds shaken. "Okay, thanks."
Kendall hangs up and glances over at James.
"What...?" James asks.
Kendall just says, "Dennis."
--
Once upon a time, back when they were 12, Dennis seemed like the best thing that had ever happened to James. James' dad had been in and out of jail a few times already by that point, Kendall can't remember if he'd gone away for good yet. James's mom met Dennis at a mandatory driving class to get her license back after her DUI. They were both trying to get sober, and they helped each other out. The next thing everyone knew, they were getting married, and she and James had moved from Ray's, the trailer park where James had grown up, to Dennis' house. Kendall's mom had gone on and on about that, about how important it was for kids to have yards and space and safety -- it was the first time Kendall realized how much his mother had hated it when they'd lived at Ray's.
For maybe six months, everything had been fine. Before Dennis lost his job, before he backslid and dragged James' mom with him. Kendall tries to remind himself alcoholism is a disease. As they arrived at the house, he has trouble caring.
The house is a wreck, even from the outside: muddy lawn with almost no grass but plenty of weeds, a rusted out car in the driveway. Kendall wonders what the press would say if they realized this was the house where James Diamond spent his adolescence -- the trailer where he actually grew up has been gone for years now.
It isn't locked. James lets himself in and Kendall trails behind him. The place is a mess inside, too. James yells, "Dennis!"
Dennis walks in from the kitchen. Kendall feels like all the air goes out of the room.
"Where the hell have you been?" Dennis demands. "People have been calling. You can't go a single goddamn day without --"
"You weren't there!" James interrupts, the words exploding out of him. "Where the hell were you, Dennis? Out with your drinking buddies? While my mother died?"
"You ungrateful bastard, you haven't even been here in years, and now you just come waltzing in here like you own the place --"
"I do, actually," James snaps. "Yeah, this house? Belongs to me, because when your sorry ass couldn't make mortgage payments, I bailed you out. And if we want to talk bail, let's not forget about the times I literally bailed you out."
Dennis narrows his eyes, clenches a fist. "Are you threatening me? In my own home? How dare you --"
"No," James interrupts. "I'm not threatening you. I don't care about any of that shit. Actually, I don't care what you do anymore. Just leave me alone."
"Fine with me."
"Good," James snaps. "I'll call a real estate agent. The house is yours, I don't even care. Just don't ever, ever talk to me again after the funeral."
Kendall blinks, surprised, and for a moment shock flickers across Dennis' face, too. James must have already thought about this, decided to get rid of the place or something. After a second, Dennis nods. "Fine. Now get out of here."
"Yeah." James straightens up. "I'll be back tomorrow, though. For when people come by. It wouldn't kill you to clean up this shithole."
"Get the hell out."
"Whatever." James turns around and barrels through the door. Kendall glances back at Dennis as he follows, but he can't read Dennis' expression.
They head back to the hotel. Rob looks a little afraid when he sees James' expression. He holds a shiny, new phone out tenuously. James takes it, slides it into his pocket. "Thanks. I won't break this one."
"Who... who was..."
James throws himself down in a chair. "Dennis. Step-dad. Asshole. He won't bother you again, I'm sorry he did that."
"It's fine, I just didn't know. I mean, you never talk about... about this town."
James snorts. "What's there to talk about? There's a hockey rink. A movie theater. Two grocery stores, three trailer parks --"
"Two," Kendall corrects. Since Ray's burnt down, there's just the two.
"Whatever. Like it makes a difference. I hate this goddamn place, once we go, I'm never coming back."
Kendall looks away at that. He knows that's how James feels, how he's always felt, but it aches. This town has been good to Kendall. He gets it, a little -- he always wanted to leave, too, when they were kids. Play hockey, get out of here. But for all hockey didn't pan out, he escaped. Saw the world, made his money. He came back here by choice. He likes that he knows his neighbors, likes that he recognizes all the kids who skate at his rink. Things weren't always great for him growing up, but this is his home. He probably loves this town just as much as James hates it.
Eventually, James stands up and grabs for one of the suitcases. "Kendall and I have a date tonight. Did you pack anything hot?"
"You two -- what?" Rob blinks a few times.
"Not with each other," Kendall says, rolling his eyes.
"Oh! Oh." Rob's face is bright red. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
James chuckles and Kendall rolls his eyes. "It's fine. He's meddling."
"Yup, because you'll never make a move if I don't. Oh, you should wear this." He tosses a shirt at Kendall.
"I'm not wearing your clothing, James."
"Sorry, it's just that I try not to be seen in public with guys wearing flannel. Try this one, if you don't like the other." He throws another shirt at Kendall.
"You're in town, what, four days? Five? Why did you pack for a month?"
"Try it on, I said. Don't make me pin you down and peel your shirt off. You know I will."
Kendall rolls his eyes enormously as he starts to unbutton his flannel, and he won't ever admit it, but when James' eyes rake over him, his stomach flutters. He thinks if Rob wasn't there... But Rob is, and James looks away, and Kendall is just left wondering.
--
Steph and Trisha meet them at the restaurant. Trisha can't stop tittering at everything James says, and every time she does Steph gives Kendall an apologetic look. They have a booth near the back, and James is so fucking natural at this. He's all smiles, he's got his arm around Trisha casually, and you'd never know from looking at him that he's dealing with anything right now.
Kendall feels a little more awkward with Steph next to him. She looks nice, her hair down, and she's even a little dressed up. Or at least she's not wearing flannel, either. Kendall wonders if Trisha had to force her out of it, since she's as likely to wear it to the rink as Kendall is.
They eat, they chat. Trisha swoons, James tells stories about being on tour, the people he's met. The waitress shyly asks for a picture and James obliges. That starts a trickle of people coming over to ask. He's a sweetheart to them all, way more patient than Kendall would be, and he always has an apologetic smile for the rest of the table. It's a perfect balance of charm and fame and humility, and Kendall's pretty sure that if James wanted, Trisha would happily put out in the bathroom.
At least Steph isn't overwhelmed by James' fame. She harasses Kendall about the concessions stand stock and what's running out and what he ordered too much of. It's comfortable, a work meeting at a restaurant, and they get along fine. Sitting next to each other, he can smell her shampoo, and when she shifts a little he can feel her leg pressed to his. And it's... it's nice, he guesses.
Eventually, still making calf-eyes, Trisha asks James, "So what are you back in town for?"
Kendall's head snaps up and he only recognizes James' look of panic because he knows James so well. It's gone after a heartbeat, and James just gives them a sad smile, puppy-like, and confesses, "My mom died a couple days ago. I'm... I'm just here for the funeral. Taking care of her things."
Trisha coos and freaking pets him, fingers stroking his soft, soft hair. Steph says, "Oh. I'm sorry."
James just shrugs. "Thanks. But, uh, I will say, I'm glad... I'm glad I've got Kendall here to lean on. I don't know where I'd be without him."
Kendall ducks his head. "That's what best friends are for."
"This week is kind of above and beyond." James clears his throat. "He's reliable, self-employed, not too hard on the eyes, and single. I'm just saying."
"James," Kendall snaps, blushing, and now Steph giggles. "She knows me too well to fall for that, anyway."
"Hey, it's no trick, it's just pointing out what she probably doesn't notice because you keep it hidden under all those tacky, tacky flannel shirts and stocking caps."
"I hate you."
"You love me. I'm family." James smiles like he's won, and Kendall just rolls his eyes.
They leave a few hours later -- no one in the restaurant objected to them taking up a booth long after they finished dessert. Kendall waits for James to be distracted and steals the check from him; James catches him and they fight over it, trading intelligent verbal spars like, "Your face," only to open the book and find that the meal is on the house. Probably the good press of James Diamond eating there will more than cover it. James thanks the waiter on the way out, shakes hands and poses for a photo with the manager.
There's an awkward moment when Trisha obviously hopes James will invite her home or something, but he kisses her and says he had a great time, it was so great to catch up, and not so subtly elbows Kendall.
Kendall clears his throat and gives Steph an awkward smile. "I, uh, I'll probably be back to work next week."
"Okay. I'll see you then. Call me if you need anything, Kendall." She pauses. "This was nice."
"Yeah," he says, and it's true. It was. "Yeah, we should... sometime... maybe after work or something."
She nods, and there's this moment while they're facing each other, near each other, and it's the moment they should kiss. But then Steph laughs, and so does Kendall, and they both duck away from each other. Kendall says, "Yeah, next week," and she says, "See you then," and they hurry away.
"Dude," James says accusingly. Kendall lets him drive again, and ignores the comment. "Kendall. What's your problem? She's smart, she loves hockey, she's cute. Seriously, what am I missing?"
The thing is... the thing is, James isn't missing anything. It's not like Kendall's never thought about it. He knows Steph is great, he knows they could probably have something good. Really good, maybe. Kendall can see it -- see their first few dates, how easily they go from friends to lovers. They'll get serious. They'll get married. Turn the rink into a franchise across Minnesota. Have kids, which will make his mom the happiest woman alive. Kendall will teach the kids to play hockey, Steph will help them with their homework. Or the other way around; Kendall was always a pretty good student, and Steph is pretty good at hockey. They'll grow old together, retire, talk about moving somewhere warmer but never do it. He can see it all so easily, like it's right there in front of him.
But then he looks over at James. And there's no future there, really, but there's so much history.
His mom is asleep when they get home, but there's a note on the pad on the fridge: Hey honey, if you need it there's dinner in the fridge for you and James. I washed the spare sheets, they're in the den. Wake me if you need anything. Love, Mom.
James reads it over Kendall's shoulder. "She means well," Kendall says.
"I guess I know where she thinks I should be sleeping tonight," James answers. But the way he's leaning over Kendall, pressed to his back...
Kendall swallows. He ducks his head and says, hating himself for being this honest, "You know you can sleep wherever you want."
For a moment, James doesn't say or do anything. Then he turns his head just slightly, pressing his lips to Kendall's neck. It isn't even a real kiss, but Kendall turns around, his hands groping for James' shirt, and they're chest to chest, nose to nose. Kendall doesn't know which one of them starts it, but they're kissing, James' hands are on his sides, James' body is pressed against him, and he feels guilty for how much he wants this.
James wraps a hand around his wrist and they head to Kendall's bedroom together. Kendall locks the door and James pulls off his shirt and tugs Kendall to the bed. Then it's just him and James, and at first, it's everything Kendall remembers. They still fit together perfectly, he still remembers every inch of James' skin, James' mouth still feels like bliss.
But James stops too soon. He kisses Kendall full on the mouth but his arm is groping for the nightstand, for the drawer, and Kendall knows what he's reaching for. He shakes his head no, says, "James, this is fine, I like it like this."
James grabs the condom anyway, tears it open.
"James..."
"Kendall," he says softly. "I'm not -- I haven't -- I haven't been tested in awhile."
Kendall tries not to flinch. It's not about the condom. James is right, he's being smart for a change, and sure, no one likes condoms but it's worth it to be with James. It's just the thought of anything coming between them -- of James with other people. But he knows how needy it is, how stupid, so he lets out a breath and nods and shivers with pleasure as James' hands run down his body, as James rolls the condom down over him, lowers himself onto Kendall.
Eventually they fall asleep, wrapped around one another this time.
--
Kendall's leg aches the next morning. It's the previous day's overuse plus a change in the weather. He can hear early spring rain against the roof and just hopes it'll stop before it gets cold again and it turns to sleet. It doesn't.
The day is as miserable as the weather. James wears a dark suit and goes to Dennis' house. People come by. They bring flowers and food and cards. No one is so tacky they dote on James like the celebrity he is, though there are whispers and Kendall wonders if anyone would really care that much about Mrs. Diamond if her son hadn't grown up to be famous.
Dennis is there all day, but he keeps his distance, accepts his share of the condolences in another corner. Carlos calls Kendall to check up on James. James sits silently, head in his hands, when there's no one there talking to him. Kendall rubs his back, tries to convince him to eat, but he isn't hungry. Yesterday had its ups and downs, but was mostly surprisingly fine; today, not so much. Kendall supposes it's that James can't pretend, can't push it all aside and concentrate on something else now. There's no skating. No matchmaking or meddling. No sex.
The day crawls on. Rob shows up, sits near James. He mostly spends the time on his phone, probably taking care of whatever business James should be doing -- okaying appearances, chartering their flights, whatever.
Kendall's mom comes by, kisses James' forehead, pointedly ignores Dennis. Kendall smiles grimly. Then Mrs. Mitchell shows up. She hugs James, he thanks her, and Kendall tries not to be petty and remember that she never really liked Logan hanging out with James. She was always careful about where she'd let Logan go, didn't want him spending time in the trailer park. Thanks to her, Kendall always thought in terms of James' Side of Town and Logan's Side of Town.
The day wears on and James stoops further over as if he's breaking under the weight of everything. At least Dennis doesn't say anything for most of the day. He shoots some glares at James, mutters some things. Until finally Dennis' friends arrive, and they pull him out. Presumably to go drinking.
James waits around for awhile after that, then gets up. "I want to see if any of my stuff is still here," he says. He leads the way further into the house, Kendall following, Rob following him. It's clear Dennis cleaned at least the front few rooms up, since everywhere else is even worse. James wanders through the house like he's in a trance, running his hands over trinkets and tchotchkes that probably were his mom's.
They get to the bedroom. The bed's not made, and James walks to the closet. He opens it and stares at his mom's things, still hanging messily. That's when his shoulders start to shake, when deep breathing isn't enough to control it. He stumbles back to the bed, sits on it, buries his head in his hands. His loses it totally then, just comes apart at the seams. Kendall sits next to him, takes his hand, lets James sob on his shoulder. It's messy and scary and Kendall aches because he can't help. He wants to do something, to fix it and make James whole again, but there's nothing he can do except sit there.
Rob, to his credit, stays instead of running away like he must want to. Kendall wouldn't blame him. But Rob just sits against one of the walls, waiting, staring down at the floor.
Finally, James manages to get up. He washes his face, though it doesn't hide anything, and he resumes his tour of the house. There isn't much else. Just his own room. Or what was his own room. It's now stacked up with stuff that was his mom's or Dennis', but they never got around to taking his old stuff out. The walls are a jumble of things James liked when he was 13, 14: the Pussycat Dolls looking sexy, Star Wars, Justin Morneau. There's a corkboard that's covered in fading, peeling pictures -- James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan in their hockey uniforms, holding up a trophy; one of Stacy Lucas, the first girl James ever went out with; photos from school trips and sleepovers. James walks up to it, stares at the pictures, and only pulls one off. It's of his mom.
He hands it to Rob and says, "Can you scan that, or save it, or something?"
"Sure," Rob says. "Yeah. Do you want the others?"
James shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, but Kendall gets it. With the exception of himself and the guys, James is done with this town, now. This place, these people. Even Stacy Lucas, with her ponytail and butterfly earrings. James doesn't want to take them with him, probably won't ever think of them again. Kendall doesn't know how, though. Whether he likes it or not, no matter how high he climbs in life, this place is James' past.
"Let's go get take out or something," Kendall says. "Anyone else who wants you can see you tomorrow."
James nods. He walks out, flicks the lights off as he leaves. It's still raining. Only Rob has an umbrella and he hands it to James wordlessly, then hurries off to his rental car. James still has Kendall's keys and drives wordlessly. They hit a drive-through for fast food, then James pulls into the Sherwood Grocery's parking lot. He just sits there for a minute. Kendall squints, looking through the rain, and he sees a kid in a neon orange safety vest pushing shopping carts into their corral. Kendall finally ventures, "This parking lot was very good to me."
"I'll be right back." James grabs the umbrella and ducks out into the rain. Kendall unbuckles his seatbelt, but James slams the door shut and takes off, so Kendall waits instead of following. James doesn't take long. Twelve minutes later, he's back, carrying a six-pack in each hand. He stows them in the back seat and then pulls out, back to the hotel. Kendall carries the beer and food, James carries the umbrella, and Rob is waiting for them. He hands them each a towel.
Kendall expects James to tear into the food, but he says, "I'm gonna shower," and walks to the bathroom. Kendall picks at French fries, waiting for him, and finally looks over at Rob. Rob is buried in something on his laptop. Kendall says, "Hey, how long have you worked for James?"
Rob puts his computer aside. "Oh, uh, about a year. Not quite, I guess."
"So you missed the last round of shit with his mom."
"Yeah, what... what happened?"
"Same as always with her. He got a call that she was in the drunk tank, sent bail, talked her into rehab. It was a 90-day program, and she disappeared after the first month." Kendall sighs. "She just completely vanished for awhile, he was frantic, even Dennis didn't hear from her. Eventually she turned up, though. Back at Dennis'. James tried to get her to go back to treatment, or at least to move out to his place in LA so he could keep an eye on her, but..."
"Dennis is kind of an asshole, huh?"
"Believe me," Kendall says, "you have no idea. I don't think he ever... Well, I don't think he ever hit her, at least not when we were kids. James would have lost his mind if he ever saw that. But I wouldn't be surprised."
"Did he ever..." Rob taps his fingers against his chair nervously. "Did he ever hit James?"
Kendall hesitates. Rob looks up. Their eyes meet. Kendall just nods.
Next.
Rating/Warnings: Hard R for drugs and alcohol, addiction, child abuse, some non-explicit sex.
Pairings: James/Kendall
Disclaimer: Sometimes I think this show was created just for me, but alas, still not mine.
Notes: Angst and sadness, because apparently that's what my brain does with the world's zaniest canon. idk. Also, this is meant to be a one-shot, but ended up too long for on LJ post.
Summary: Kendall goes to the rink to connect with his past. James wants to be famous to forget about his. Futurefic.
Every time I come back in this town I know
I've finally learned the difference between going back and going home
-- Butch Walker, Going Back/Going Home
There are a few bars in Kendall's hometown, but his favorite is the Old Firehouse, which is actually, technically, named Jim's Bar. It's just that Kendall has lived there long enough that he, like most of the town, will always remember that the building used to be a firehouse. To avoid confusion, everyone calls the current firehouse The Old Post Office, and the current post office is The New Post Office, even though the buildings all shifted locations almost a decade ago. Small town living is more confusing than most people realize.
Kendall likes the Old Firehouse. Jim -- a friendly, retired fireman -- invites him to perform every now and then, and gives him free drinks in exchange for Kendall waiving the rental fee when his grandson skates at Kendall's rink. It's always a pretty chill atmosphere, a nice mix of old-timers watching hockey at the bar and townies playing darts and pool. Kendall finishes his set to a smattering of applause and waves, then puts his guitar away. He hands it to Jim to stow behind the bar until he's ready to go, but instead of handing him his regular, Jim nods down the bar. Kendall looks, and...
James doesn't wear subtle well. He's made an effort; he's not wearing anything flashy or expensive looking, though Kendall would lay money on a bet that James' casual jeans cost at least a few hundred dollars. James also has a hood pulled up, and he's staring at his hands, splayed in front of him on the bar.
Something is really, really wrong. James hasn't been home in years, and there's no way he would show up out of the blue like this unless it's a crisis. And if it is, he should have called.
Kendall walks down, clears his throat, and says cautiously, "Hey, stranger."
James looks up at him, and James looks broken. There's no smile, nothing behind his eyes but desperation. He says, "Kendall," and it sounds like he's begging.
"What's wrong?" Kendall asks, even as he holds up two fingers to Jim. Thank god, Jim must see the state James is in, because he goes for hard liquor, pouring them both doubles.
James says, "My mom died."
Kendall's world goes out from under him. James' mom... Well, James loves his mom, even though Kendall's not sure she's always deserved it. He swallows, wanting to ask how and when, but he knows James will volunteer when he's ready, so Kendall just says, "I'm sorry."
They drink in quiet for a few minutes. Someone else takes the stage, and Kendall winces at a voice that can't quite warble through the high notes it keeps going for.
James finishes his drink, and Kendall catches Jim's eye. Another appears on the bar. Eventually, James says, "She was sober. I guess that's something."
Kendall nods. It's no small thing, either. James put his mom into treatment at least three times, and it never quite succeeded. James never gave up on her, though. Kendall knows it broke James' heart every time she relapsed, every time she moved back to Minnesota and Dennis instead of staying with him.
There's nothing Kendall can say to make James feel better, and he knows it. So they drink and don't talk. It must be pretty clear to everyone that this is not a good time, because James is usually mobbed everywhere he goes, but almost no one approaches. Just the singer. James manages to fake a smile, shake his hand, and that's that. Kendall quits drinking after his second, but he keeps James in booze, and for a change he insists on paying up. Jim didn't sign up for this, and James can hold a lot of liquor.
It takes more than an hour before James is swaying silently on his stool. He looks up at Kendall, who nods. "C'mon, Jamie," a nickname James stopped letting him use when they were 13, "let's go home."
James slurs, "I got a room."
"Whatever," Kendall says, and supports James as they stagger out. They'll come collect James' rental tomorrow. Kendall pours James into his passenger seat and drives home. James takes heaving, deep breaths that Kendall knows are him struggling to keep control, and Kendall doesn't even pause when they get to his house. His mom is asleep in her room, so he makes a shhing noise as he pulls James to his. It isn't like this is the first time they've snuck in, trying not to wake her, though it's been years. Since they were kids.
James must think the same thing. "Like old times," he mumbles, as Kendall pulls off his Buster Clydes. James neither fights nor helps as Kendall gets him stripped down to boxer-briefs and folds his clothes. Then Kendall hesitates, hand on the doorknob, ready to go sleep in the den, unless --
James says, "Don't go."
Kendall doesn't. Just like he knew he wouldn't from the second he saw James in the bar. And it isn't exactly comfortable but it is familiar when he falls asleep with James wrapped around him, holding on as if his life depends on it.
--
Kendall wakes to his mother's voice: "What kind of eggs? Oh!"
She's opened his door. Kendall sits up, and next to him, James groans blearily. "Hey, Mom," Kendall says.
"Got enough for an extra?" James adds, pushing himself up. Then, shyly, as if she hadn't known him his whole life, "Hey, Mrs. Knight."
"It's been a long time," she says, stepping in.
Kendall gets up and makes an excuse about brushing his teeth. He leaves them, but glances back. His mother has an arm around James and he's staring at the ground. Kendall leaves them, thinking that she was a better mother to James that James' own ever was.
Kendall makes coffee and reads the paper as he waits. When James appears, he looks exhausted, and Kendall doubts it's the hangover.
His mom makes then breakfast. Kendall's phone rings. He picks it up guiltily, not wanting to bother with anything but James, but he should be on his way to the rink. "Hey, Steph, I can't..."
"Can't..?" she prompts. She runs the business side of the rink, and Kendall likes that she doesn't usually let him slide when he's got work to do. It's good for him, but not right now.
"I've got a family crisis. I won't be around for a few days."
"Is your mom okay? I'll get Chris here to open--"
"She's fine. Thanks. I'll... I'll try to be in touch, but I've got to run."
After he hangs up, James cocks his head and asks, "I'm family?"
"Well, you're a crisis," Kendall teases, but he's relieved. It was the first thing James has said that's actually sounded like James.
"So honey, what... happened?" his mom asks.
James shrugs. "It was just... After everything she did to herself, she was in bad shape. It was a heart attack, and by the time Dennis found her..."
"I'm so sorry," she says, and kisses James' head as she walks by to start the dishes. "What can we do to help?"
"Nothing, Mrs. Knight. I'm fine. I've already imposed, Kendall, if you can just give me a lift I'll get my car--"
"And your stuff from your hotel, and bring it back here," Kendall interrupts.
"Not what I was going to say."
Kendall raises his eyebrows, daring James to argue, and James doesn't. Kendall knows it wasn't a coincidence that James was at that bar. James needs help, and James has always, always come to Kendall. If Kendall knew from the moment he saw James that he'd end up getting James through the night, well, James must have known from the minute he drove up that there was no way Kendall would leave him to deal with this on his own.
"I should let my assistant know I'm not dead, though," James says, and Kendall can tell he's trying to force some cheer into his voice. "Actually, I should swing by and talk with him."
"I'll go with you," Kendall says.
James gives him a grateful look. They both kiss Kendall's mom on the cheek on their way out, and after they pick up James' rental (a surprisingly non-flashy car, fitting the low profile he's obviously hoping to keep) Kendall leads the way downtown, or what passes for it in their town. There's an area that's got a bunch of artsy shops, and sheltered between that and the stripmalls and grocery stores is a handful of hotels, restaurants, and office buildings. (And, Kendall thinks guiltily, his rink.)
James' assistant, Rob, is a kid in his early 20s. When he looks at James his eyes practically turn into cartoon hearts. Kendall wonders if that's why James hired him -- not that James would do that on purpose or anything, but he's like a dog rescued from the shelter. He's desperate for love and affection, and will be loyal to the end to anyone who gives that to him. Even when they don't really deserve it.
Kendall sinks into an armchair in Rob's suite guiltily, keeping an ear on the conversation. As Rob lets James know what still needs to be done for the funeral, Kendall has the worst thought he's ever, ever had: James' life might actually be a lot easier now.
James' mom was definitely a drain on him. Always. Kendall remembers being a little afraid of her when they were kids, when he didn't understand why she always seemed a kind of weird. He's not sure she's ever had a job for more than a few months at a time, except around when she and Dennis got married. And after the band actually started getting successful, she and Dennis were both terrible. James wasn't 18 yet and they spent his money like it was nothing. Thank god Kelly and Gustavo had created a trust fund for him, or James would have been broke when he finally was a legal adult. Since then, he's still supported them. If it wasn't for James, they'd have lost the house, for sure. It's a miracle they haven't spent more time in jail. James talked his mom into rehab a few times, but Dennis refused, and he always, always ruined everything. And now...
Now it's over. Kendall hates himself for being relieved because he shouldn't be glad anyone is dead. He does wish it was Dennis instead, but he's always wished that and doesn't feel bad about it anymore.
Rob has already taken care of a lot of the planning. James looks guilty instead of relieved, but agrees with everything Rob's done. It'll be in two days, all James has left to do is go to the funeral home and settle some details -- and let everyone know where and when. Rob offers to do it for him, if James just gives him a list. James shakes him off, though, and insists on doing it himself.
Kendall sits and listens as James has the same conversation over and over again. Yes, it was sudden. He can't believe it, either. Saturday, two o'clock. Yeah, he's canceled some shows, and he's taking a few days for himself while he copes. Thanks for the support. Thanks for coming. Okay. Bye. Over and over and over. Kendall tenses every time it's obvious someone has asked James about his career, brought up the fact that he's actually really famous, but James always just barrels through. Kendall doesn't know how. Eventually, Rob walks over to Kendall silently, hands him a takeout menu. He doesn't interrupt James, but when the food arrives, James shoots him a thankful smile and Rob swoons. Whatever he ordered must be right, then.
Thank god, James is smart enough to save Carlos and Logan for last. Neither of them can actually make it -- Carlos' show is still filming, Logan doesn't have anyone to take his patient load off his hands -- but they're both in LA, anyway. James promises them both he'll call the second he's back in town, and Kendall's grateful they'll be there to take care of James. He'd go himself, but there are another few weeks left before he shuts the rink down for the season.
James slumps in his chair after he hangs up with Carlos. He drinks the rest of his water. He sits there. Kendall waits. James picks his phone back up and dials.
Kendall hadn't realized there was anyone else to call. When James says, "Yeah. It's James," he knows who it is. He goes tense as James continues: "Yeah, I -- yes. Of fucking course I'm here. I'm planning my mom's funeral, where the hell have you been? Saturday. Two. Try to get sober first, if you bother showing up."
James hangs up, but before Kendall can say anything, try to help, do anything, James hurls his phone at the wall. It breaks into a few pieces that crash to the floor. James turns away from Kendall, from Rob, hands clenched into fists.
Kendall stands up. "Come on. We're going skating."
James turns back, stares at him. "Now?" His voice is tense, he's doing that deep breath, barely-holding-it-together thing again.
"It's a weekday. We'll practically have the place to ourselves. You need to... you need to do something."
"Don't have my skates," James snaps, as if that'll be an excuse when the rink has plenty for rent.
But Rob clears his throat. "I, uh, I actually packed them for you. I mean, you... I thought maybe, I know you used to play hockey as a kid, so..."
"Thanks," James says. His voice is coming back to normal. "That's really thoughtful."
Rob ducks his head, hiding an enormous smile at the praise, Kendall's sure. He stands up, says he'll find them in James' stuff, and starts going through suitcases. Kendall shoots a significant look at him, then back at James. James ignores it and Kendall tries not to care. He tells himself it's not his business if James is sleeping with his assistant. James dates women publicly and sleeps with men privately -- women too, but that's never bothered Kendall. Bothered is the wrong word, but...
Kendall forces himself to stop that trail of thought. He says to Rob, "You should come with us. I'll waive the rental fee and everything."
Rob looks up, shakes his head quickly. "No, I... I should go get that phone fixed. Well, replaced. They can probably get out the data card, though, or..."
"Thanks," James says.
Rob shrugs. "It's what I'm here for. Here." He finally finds the skates, and Kendall isn't even surprised to see them. They're custom made, designed by Buster Clyde, but Kendall's willing to bet they're also damn fine skates, not just flashy. Rob hands them to James, who stands up.
"Well, Knight, come on. If I'm gonna kick your ass around your own rink, we should get going."
"Pretty sad that after your whole rockstar life, that's still your wildest dream," Kendall returns.
James throws a wave to Rob and they head out. It feels weirdly thrilling to know that James doesn't have his phone, that he's actually off the grid for awhile. That Kendall will have his undivided attention.
The rink isn't too far away. James' skates are tied together at the laces, they dangle from one of his hands as he follows Kendall in. Kendall leads him in through the back door, closer to his office. That's where they both change into their skates. Kendall doesn't miss the pile of papers on his desk, stuff Steph probably needs him to sign, and he wonders what James thinks of this place, Kendall's home away from home. He wonders if James notices the cane in the corner.
Kendall never planned to buy the rink. He wanted to play hockey. But on their last tour there was an accident with one of the stage trap doors, it slammed shut on Kendall, though Kendall doesn't remember much except waking in the hospital. They had to cancel weeks of shows. He's got a metal rod in his leg now, and it took him weeks to be able to walk again, even with the cane. It ended any hope he still had for hockey -- yeah, now he's recovered in full, except occasional twinges when the weather's changing or whatever. He can even skate, but there's no way he could take the abuse of hockey.
The rink sort of fell into his lap. He'd just moved home when he saw it was shutting its doors. Kendall took a chunk of his BTR money and bought it. The previous owner couldn't turn nearly enough profit off it, and neither can Kendall, but the difference is Kendall doesn't need to. He turned all his financials over to Katie ages ago, she's invested smartly, and Kendall doesn't keep track much but he's pretty sure he's worth way more now than he was the day the band broke up. So he keeps this rink open because he loves it, and if he didn't want summers free to travel he'd give up on any pretense of making a profit and just keep it open year round.
He and James both move on skates as easily as in shoes. They clomp through the hall, into the lobby -- Kendall glances at Steph, who's doing paperwork behind the rental counter, and she raises her eyebrows -- and then to the ice. He was right, there are only a few people out. Kids have school, adults have work, and basically no one thinks to go skating after the snow's finally melted off.
Kendall knows within seconds that this was the right place to bring James. James hits the ice and is off like a shot, all of his pent up emotions from the last few days coming loose as he moves. Kendall doesn't bother trying to keep up at first, just takes it easy as James laps him, laps him again, then actually executes a really nice turn so he's skating backwards just in front of Kendall. Kendall's impressed; James probably doesn't get to skate too often, but he hasn't lost any of his skill.
"So does that rod in your leg mean you always skate someone's grandmother?" James taunts.
Kendall laughs. James is good, but Kendall's on this ice every day. He reaches out, one hand to James' shoulder, says, "Tag," and takes off. James yells and comes after him, and it's three laps before James catches him. They thread their way around the few other skaters, moving so fast that a wipeout could do serious damage, but even with their friendly shoves as they pass one another, neither loses his balance at all.
It's half an hour before Kendall feels the twinge in his leg. He ignores it until it becomes a steady throb, and he grimaces against the pain. He's covered in sweat now, though, and he knows from frustrating years of experience that if he doesn't knock it off soon, he won't be able to move without agony for a few days.
He finally gives in, flags down James, and points at his leg. James cuts around and halts, his face fallen. Kendall says, "I'm sorry, it's just --"
"No, shit, I should have remembered. Do you need... need help, or... Kendall, I'm sorry."
"I'm fine, Jamie. I just need some ice and some aspirin." And not the cane. He's absolutely not using a cane in front of James, because James will find a way to blame himself. He obviously already does. Kendall moves slowly, carefully, so James won't see him limp or wince when he puts weight on it.
As they head off the ice, he sees they've gained an audience. Steph is watching from the entrance. "Hey," Kendall says. "Uh, Steph, James; James, Steph."
"Sorry for monopolizing his time," James puts in.
"It's no problem," Steph says. "I do most of the work around here anyway."
"True," Kendall admits. He collapses into his chair in his office, trying not to let on what a relief it is to get off his feet, and unlaces his skates. "So she can spare me for a few days."
"But if you're busy, who'll be around here to be late signing timecards and forget to review all the work I do? And gosh, who'll be here to be sarcastic and think he's way smarter than he is?"
James laughs, and Kendall says cheerfully, "You're fired."
"You couldn't live without me and you know it."
"That's a lot of credit you're giving yourself," he says. "I could definitely live without you. I just I couldn't run this place."
"And you couldn't live without somewhere to skate," she says.
"Point. Fine. You win. I can't live without you, please don't ever leave me."
"Thank you."
James looks up at them, amused. "It's good you've got him trained. He used to be so stubborn."
Kendall puts his bad leg up and grimaces at the effort, then digs into his desk drawer and pulls out the painkillers. He downs three and says to James, "Don't encourage her."
"You seem really familiar," James says.
Steph nods. "I was a few years behind you in school. Stephanie Rowe?"
"Right." James snaps his fingers. "Your older sister was a cheerleader, right? Trisha? I think we went out a few times."
She nods. "Yeah, she still brags about that, actually."
James laughs. "So how is she? Still in town?"
"Um, yeah." Steph looks at him like he's grown another head.
"You two should come out with us tonight," James says.
Steph glances at Kendall. "Yeah, I mean, if my boss will give me the evening off. He's dumping some extra work on me this week, though..."
"Yeah, 'cause you ever do anything I ask you to," Kendall says.
"Most of what you ask me to do is stupid."
"Seriously," James says. "My phone isn't working right now, but Kendall will call you with details. We'll see you there. Somewhere. My treat."
"I guess we'll be there. Trish would probably kill me if I said no, anyway."
"Great." James flashes her the rockstar smile, and she giggles. Kendall rolls his eyes and holds out a hand. James hauls him up and Kendall stifles a groan as he puts weight on his leg.
"See you then," Kendall says.
"Don't take any of your paperwork with you as you go or anything!" Steph calls after them.
"You're driving," Kendall says, and hands the keys to James. He doesn't want to agitate his leg. After he buckles up, he adds, "So what the hell was that?"
"Was what?"
"You really want to go out with Trisha Rowe?"
"No," James says. "But you and Stephanie sure seem to want to do each other. So have you two ever had sex on your desk?"
"You really are an idiot."
"You and she never...?"
"No! I'm her boss. And she doesn't -- we don't -- I hate you."
"You love me." James shoots him a grin, looking and sounding more like himself than he has all day. "You can't fool me, though, you totally have a thing for her."
"Unlike you, I don't sleep with people who work for me."
"I'm not sleeping with Rob."
Kendall ignores the irrational surge of relief he feels at that, and says, "You know he wants you."
"So does everyone. I'm very good looking, Kendall." James shakes his head. "Rob's a sweet kid. I don't want to break his heart or anything, and I'm not... you know, I don't think I'll ever be ready to commit or anything, so... So what's your excuse with Steph?"
"What?"
"Why haven't you just asked her out? And don't give me that boss crap, she obviously doesn't care."
Kendall mulls it over as they make their way to the more residential area of town where he lives. After all these years, James still remembers the way. Finally, he just says, "I don't know. Maybe I'm not big on commitment, either."
"Well, see how it goes tonight." James takes a hand off the wheel to jostle his shoulder. "So how's your leg?"
"Fine."
"Liar. You're icing that as soon as we're home, even if I have to hold you down to make you do it."
Kendall scowls. He'd rather do the care-taking than have someone take care of him. But when they get home, he grudgingly takes out an icepack and elevates his leg some more, propping it up on the living room table. James sits next to him, leaning against him.
They're still just hanging out, joking and jostling each other while Kendall ices his leg, and everything is fine when Kendall's phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and doesn't know the number, but when he answers, it's Rob, panicked. "Some guy -- he showed up, he says he knows James -- this hotel doesn't even have security and I don't know what to --"
"Is he still there?"
"No, no, he screamed at me about James, and he left."
Kendall winces and says, "Okay. We'll take care of it. Sorry about that, it's... We'll be by to get James' stuff, too."
"Okay," Rob says, and he sounds shaken. "Okay, thanks."
Kendall hangs up and glances over at James.
"What...?" James asks.
Kendall just says, "Dennis."
--
Once upon a time, back when they were 12, Dennis seemed like the best thing that had ever happened to James. James' dad had been in and out of jail a few times already by that point, Kendall can't remember if he'd gone away for good yet. James's mom met Dennis at a mandatory driving class to get her license back after her DUI. They were both trying to get sober, and they helped each other out. The next thing everyone knew, they were getting married, and she and James had moved from Ray's, the trailer park where James had grown up, to Dennis' house. Kendall's mom had gone on and on about that, about how important it was for kids to have yards and space and safety -- it was the first time Kendall realized how much his mother had hated it when they'd lived at Ray's.
For maybe six months, everything had been fine. Before Dennis lost his job, before he backslid and dragged James' mom with him. Kendall tries to remind himself alcoholism is a disease. As they arrived at the house, he has trouble caring.
The house is a wreck, even from the outside: muddy lawn with almost no grass but plenty of weeds, a rusted out car in the driveway. Kendall wonders what the press would say if they realized this was the house where James Diamond spent his adolescence -- the trailer where he actually grew up has been gone for years now.
It isn't locked. James lets himself in and Kendall trails behind him. The place is a mess inside, too. James yells, "Dennis!"
Dennis walks in from the kitchen. Kendall feels like all the air goes out of the room.
"Where the hell have you been?" Dennis demands. "People have been calling. You can't go a single goddamn day without --"
"You weren't there!" James interrupts, the words exploding out of him. "Where the hell were you, Dennis? Out with your drinking buddies? While my mother died?"
"You ungrateful bastard, you haven't even been here in years, and now you just come waltzing in here like you own the place --"
"I do, actually," James snaps. "Yeah, this house? Belongs to me, because when your sorry ass couldn't make mortgage payments, I bailed you out. And if we want to talk bail, let's not forget about the times I literally bailed you out."
Dennis narrows his eyes, clenches a fist. "Are you threatening me? In my own home? How dare you --"
"No," James interrupts. "I'm not threatening you. I don't care about any of that shit. Actually, I don't care what you do anymore. Just leave me alone."
"Fine with me."
"Good," James snaps. "I'll call a real estate agent. The house is yours, I don't even care. Just don't ever, ever talk to me again after the funeral."
Kendall blinks, surprised, and for a moment shock flickers across Dennis' face, too. James must have already thought about this, decided to get rid of the place or something. After a second, Dennis nods. "Fine. Now get out of here."
"Yeah." James straightens up. "I'll be back tomorrow, though. For when people come by. It wouldn't kill you to clean up this shithole."
"Get the hell out."
"Whatever." James turns around and barrels through the door. Kendall glances back at Dennis as he follows, but he can't read Dennis' expression.
They head back to the hotel. Rob looks a little afraid when he sees James' expression. He holds a shiny, new phone out tenuously. James takes it, slides it into his pocket. "Thanks. I won't break this one."
"Who... who was..."
James throws himself down in a chair. "Dennis. Step-dad. Asshole. He won't bother you again, I'm sorry he did that."
"It's fine, I just didn't know. I mean, you never talk about... about this town."
James snorts. "What's there to talk about? There's a hockey rink. A movie theater. Two grocery stores, three trailer parks --"
"Two," Kendall corrects. Since Ray's burnt down, there's just the two.
"Whatever. Like it makes a difference. I hate this goddamn place, once we go, I'm never coming back."
Kendall looks away at that. He knows that's how James feels, how he's always felt, but it aches. This town has been good to Kendall. He gets it, a little -- he always wanted to leave, too, when they were kids. Play hockey, get out of here. But for all hockey didn't pan out, he escaped. Saw the world, made his money. He came back here by choice. He likes that he knows his neighbors, likes that he recognizes all the kids who skate at his rink. Things weren't always great for him growing up, but this is his home. He probably loves this town just as much as James hates it.
Eventually, James stands up and grabs for one of the suitcases. "Kendall and I have a date tonight. Did you pack anything hot?"
"You two -- what?" Rob blinks a few times.
"Not with each other," Kendall says, rolling his eyes.
"Oh! Oh." Rob's face is bright red. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
James chuckles and Kendall rolls his eyes. "It's fine. He's meddling."
"Yup, because you'll never make a move if I don't. Oh, you should wear this." He tosses a shirt at Kendall.
"I'm not wearing your clothing, James."
"Sorry, it's just that I try not to be seen in public with guys wearing flannel. Try this one, if you don't like the other." He throws another shirt at Kendall.
"You're in town, what, four days? Five? Why did you pack for a month?"
"Try it on, I said. Don't make me pin you down and peel your shirt off. You know I will."
Kendall rolls his eyes enormously as he starts to unbutton his flannel, and he won't ever admit it, but when James' eyes rake over him, his stomach flutters. He thinks if Rob wasn't there... But Rob is, and James looks away, and Kendall is just left wondering.
--
Steph and Trisha meet them at the restaurant. Trisha can't stop tittering at everything James says, and every time she does Steph gives Kendall an apologetic look. They have a booth near the back, and James is so fucking natural at this. He's all smiles, he's got his arm around Trisha casually, and you'd never know from looking at him that he's dealing with anything right now.
Kendall feels a little more awkward with Steph next to him. She looks nice, her hair down, and she's even a little dressed up. Or at least she's not wearing flannel, either. Kendall wonders if Trisha had to force her out of it, since she's as likely to wear it to the rink as Kendall is.
They eat, they chat. Trisha swoons, James tells stories about being on tour, the people he's met. The waitress shyly asks for a picture and James obliges. That starts a trickle of people coming over to ask. He's a sweetheart to them all, way more patient than Kendall would be, and he always has an apologetic smile for the rest of the table. It's a perfect balance of charm and fame and humility, and Kendall's pretty sure that if James wanted, Trisha would happily put out in the bathroom.
At least Steph isn't overwhelmed by James' fame. She harasses Kendall about the concessions stand stock and what's running out and what he ordered too much of. It's comfortable, a work meeting at a restaurant, and they get along fine. Sitting next to each other, he can smell her shampoo, and when she shifts a little he can feel her leg pressed to his. And it's... it's nice, he guesses.
Eventually, still making calf-eyes, Trisha asks James, "So what are you back in town for?"
Kendall's head snaps up and he only recognizes James' look of panic because he knows James so well. It's gone after a heartbeat, and James just gives them a sad smile, puppy-like, and confesses, "My mom died a couple days ago. I'm... I'm just here for the funeral. Taking care of her things."
Trisha coos and freaking pets him, fingers stroking his soft, soft hair. Steph says, "Oh. I'm sorry."
James just shrugs. "Thanks. But, uh, I will say, I'm glad... I'm glad I've got Kendall here to lean on. I don't know where I'd be without him."
Kendall ducks his head. "That's what best friends are for."
"This week is kind of above and beyond." James clears his throat. "He's reliable, self-employed, not too hard on the eyes, and single. I'm just saying."
"James," Kendall snaps, blushing, and now Steph giggles. "She knows me too well to fall for that, anyway."
"Hey, it's no trick, it's just pointing out what she probably doesn't notice because you keep it hidden under all those tacky, tacky flannel shirts and stocking caps."
"I hate you."
"You love me. I'm family." James smiles like he's won, and Kendall just rolls his eyes.
They leave a few hours later -- no one in the restaurant objected to them taking up a booth long after they finished dessert. Kendall waits for James to be distracted and steals the check from him; James catches him and they fight over it, trading intelligent verbal spars like, "Your face," only to open the book and find that the meal is on the house. Probably the good press of James Diamond eating there will more than cover it. James thanks the waiter on the way out, shakes hands and poses for a photo with the manager.
There's an awkward moment when Trisha obviously hopes James will invite her home or something, but he kisses her and says he had a great time, it was so great to catch up, and not so subtly elbows Kendall.
Kendall clears his throat and gives Steph an awkward smile. "I, uh, I'll probably be back to work next week."
"Okay. I'll see you then. Call me if you need anything, Kendall." She pauses. "This was nice."
"Yeah," he says, and it's true. It was. "Yeah, we should... sometime... maybe after work or something."
She nods, and there's this moment while they're facing each other, near each other, and it's the moment they should kiss. But then Steph laughs, and so does Kendall, and they both duck away from each other. Kendall says, "Yeah, next week," and she says, "See you then," and they hurry away.
"Dude," James says accusingly. Kendall lets him drive again, and ignores the comment. "Kendall. What's your problem? She's smart, she loves hockey, she's cute. Seriously, what am I missing?"
The thing is... the thing is, James isn't missing anything. It's not like Kendall's never thought about it. He knows Steph is great, he knows they could probably have something good. Really good, maybe. Kendall can see it -- see their first few dates, how easily they go from friends to lovers. They'll get serious. They'll get married. Turn the rink into a franchise across Minnesota. Have kids, which will make his mom the happiest woman alive. Kendall will teach the kids to play hockey, Steph will help them with their homework. Or the other way around; Kendall was always a pretty good student, and Steph is pretty good at hockey. They'll grow old together, retire, talk about moving somewhere warmer but never do it. He can see it all so easily, like it's right there in front of him.
But then he looks over at James. And there's no future there, really, but there's so much history.
His mom is asleep when they get home, but there's a note on the pad on the fridge: Hey honey, if you need it there's dinner in the fridge for you and James. I washed the spare sheets, they're in the den. Wake me if you need anything. Love, Mom.
James reads it over Kendall's shoulder. "She means well," Kendall says.
"I guess I know where she thinks I should be sleeping tonight," James answers. But the way he's leaning over Kendall, pressed to his back...
Kendall swallows. He ducks his head and says, hating himself for being this honest, "You know you can sleep wherever you want."
For a moment, James doesn't say or do anything. Then he turns his head just slightly, pressing his lips to Kendall's neck. It isn't even a real kiss, but Kendall turns around, his hands groping for James' shirt, and they're chest to chest, nose to nose. Kendall doesn't know which one of them starts it, but they're kissing, James' hands are on his sides, James' body is pressed against him, and he feels guilty for how much he wants this.
James wraps a hand around his wrist and they head to Kendall's bedroom together. Kendall locks the door and James pulls off his shirt and tugs Kendall to the bed. Then it's just him and James, and at first, it's everything Kendall remembers. They still fit together perfectly, he still remembers every inch of James' skin, James' mouth still feels like bliss.
But James stops too soon. He kisses Kendall full on the mouth but his arm is groping for the nightstand, for the drawer, and Kendall knows what he's reaching for. He shakes his head no, says, "James, this is fine, I like it like this."
James grabs the condom anyway, tears it open.
"James..."
"Kendall," he says softly. "I'm not -- I haven't -- I haven't been tested in awhile."
Kendall tries not to flinch. It's not about the condom. James is right, he's being smart for a change, and sure, no one likes condoms but it's worth it to be with James. It's just the thought of anything coming between them -- of James with other people. But he knows how needy it is, how stupid, so he lets out a breath and nods and shivers with pleasure as James' hands run down his body, as James rolls the condom down over him, lowers himself onto Kendall.
Eventually they fall asleep, wrapped around one another this time.
--
Kendall's leg aches the next morning. It's the previous day's overuse plus a change in the weather. He can hear early spring rain against the roof and just hopes it'll stop before it gets cold again and it turns to sleet. It doesn't.
The day is as miserable as the weather. James wears a dark suit and goes to Dennis' house. People come by. They bring flowers and food and cards. No one is so tacky they dote on James like the celebrity he is, though there are whispers and Kendall wonders if anyone would really care that much about Mrs. Diamond if her son hadn't grown up to be famous.
Dennis is there all day, but he keeps his distance, accepts his share of the condolences in another corner. Carlos calls Kendall to check up on James. James sits silently, head in his hands, when there's no one there talking to him. Kendall rubs his back, tries to convince him to eat, but he isn't hungry. Yesterday had its ups and downs, but was mostly surprisingly fine; today, not so much. Kendall supposes it's that James can't pretend, can't push it all aside and concentrate on something else now. There's no skating. No matchmaking or meddling. No sex.
The day crawls on. Rob shows up, sits near James. He mostly spends the time on his phone, probably taking care of whatever business James should be doing -- okaying appearances, chartering their flights, whatever.
Kendall's mom comes by, kisses James' forehead, pointedly ignores Dennis. Kendall smiles grimly. Then Mrs. Mitchell shows up. She hugs James, he thanks her, and Kendall tries not to be petty and remember that she never really liked Logan hanging out with James. She was always careful about where she'd let Logan go, didn't want him spending time in the trailer park. Thanks to her, Kendall always thought in terms of James' Side of Town and Logan's Side of Town.
The day wears on and James stoops further over as if he's breaking under the weight of everything. At least Dennis doesn't say anything for most of the day. He shoots some glares at James, mutters some things. Until finally Dennis' friends arrive, and they pull him out. Presumably to go drinking.
James waits around for awhile after that, then gets up. "I want to see if any of my stuff is still here," he says. He leads the way further into the house, Kendall following, Rob following him. It's clear Dennis cleaned at least the front few rooms up, since everywhere else is even worse. James wanders through the house like he's in a trance, running his hands over trinkets and tchotchkes that probably were his mom's.
They get to the bedroom. The bed's not made, and James walks to the closet. He opens it and stares at his mom's things, still hanging messily. That's when his shoulders start to shake, when deep breathing isn't enough to control it. He stumbles back to the bed, sits on it, buries his head in his hands. His loses it totally then, just comes apart at the seams. Kendall sits next to him, takes his hand, lets James sob on his shoulder. It's messy and scary and Kendall aches because he can't help. He wants to do something, to fix it and make James whole again, but there's nothing he can do except sit there.
Rob, to his credit, stays instead of running away like he must want to. Kendall wouldn't blame him. But Rob just sits against one of the walls, waiting, staring down at the floor.
Finally, James manages to get up. He washes his face, though it doesn't hide anything, and he resumes his tour of the house. There isn't much else. Just his own room. Or what was his own room. It's now stacked up with stuff that was his mom's or Dennis', but they never got around to taking his old stuff out. The walls are a jumble of things James liked when he was 13, 14: the Pussycat Dolls looking sexy, Star Wars, Justin Morneau. There's a corkboard that's covered in fading, peeling pictures -- James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan in their hockey uniforms, holding up a trophy; one of Stacy Lucas, the first girl James ever went out with; photos from school trips and sleepovers. James walks up to it, stares at the pictures, and only pulls one off. It's of his mom.
He hands it to Rob and says, "Can you scan that, or save it, or something?"
"Sure," Rob says. "Yeah. Do you want the others?"
James shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, but Kendall gets it. With the exception of himself and the guys, James is done with this town, now. This place, these people. Even Stacy Lucas, with her ponytail and butterfly earrings. James doesn't want to take them with him, probably won't ever think of them again. Kendall doesn't know how, though. Whether he likes it or not, no matter how high he climbs in life, this place is James' past.
"Let's go get take out or something," Kendall says. "Anyone else who wants you can see you tomorrow."
James nods. He walks out, flicks the lights off as he leaves. It's still raining. Only Rob has an umbrella and he hands it to James wordlessly, then hurries off to his rental car. James still has Kendall's keys and drives wordlessly. They hit a drive-through for fast food, then James pulls into the Sherwood Grocery's parking lot. He just sits there for a minute. Kendall squints, looking through the rain, and he sees a kid in a neon orange safety vest pushing shopping carts into their corral. Kendall finally ventures, "This parking lot was very good to me."
"I'll be right back." James grabs the umbrella and ducks out into the rain. Kendall unbuckles his seatbelt, but James slams the door shut and takes off, so Kendall waits instead of following. James doesn't take long. Twelve minutes later, he's back, carrying a six-pack in each hand. He stows them in the back seat and then pulls out, back to the hotel. Kendall carries the beer and food, James carries the umbrella, and Rob is waiting for them. He hands them each a towel.
Kendall expects James to tear into the food, but he says, "I'm gonna shower," and walks to the bathroom. Kendall picks at French fries, waiting for him, and finally looks over at Rob. Rob is buried in something on his laptop. Kendall says, "Hey, how long have you worked for James?"
Rob puts his computer aside. "Oh, uh, about a year. Not quite, I guess."
"So you missed the last round of shit with his mom."
"Yeah, what... what happened?"
"Same as always with her. He got a call that she was in the drunk tank, sent bail, talked her into rehab. It was a 90-day program, and she disappeared after the first month." Kendall sighs. "She just completely vanished for awhile, he was frantic, even Dennis didn't hear from her. Eventually she turned up, though. Back at Dennis'. James tried to get her to go back to treatment, or at least to move out to his place in LA so he could keep an eye on her, but..."
"Dennis is kind of an asshole, huh?"
"Believe me," Kendall says, "you have no idea. I don't think he ever... Well, I don't think he ever hit her, at least not when we were kids. James would have lost his mind if he ever saw that. But I wouldn't be surprised."
"Did he ever..." Rob taps his fingers against his chair nervously. "Did he ever hit James?"
Kendall hesitates. Rob looks up. Their eyes meet. Kendall just nods.
Next.