#ronenrubinstein

[chaotictarlos]

RONEN RUBINSTEIN and RAFAEL SILVA

#chaotic edits #ronen rubinstein #rafael silva #ronen and rafael #ronenrubinstein #rafaelsilva #ronen rubinstein edit #rafael silva edit #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #foxtv #911 lonestar #911 lonestar edit #911lonestaredit #tarlos tuesday #tuserjen #usermoosh #usersteen #flashing gifs #cw: flashing #hello magazine

[nathiegraph]

Ronen Rubinstein

(| Credit - Nathie |)

#ronenrubinstein #ronen rubinstein #ronen rubinstein avatar #faceclaim #fc #rp #avatars #avatars rpg #rpg #rpg ressources #avatar 400x640

[avacoleman]

when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either.  After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man.  As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

@strandtk my beloved. this one is for you 💜💕

chapter 1/8 || rated e || read on ao3 *updates every tues. and fri. *

I'm writing it down on the paper Making a record, like an archive of me and you So when we're reading it later,  It'll all come back brand new

New York, NY

Henry marvels at the universe’s capacity for pettiness as he sits at the bar with his signed copy of a book he’s written that doesn’t actually bear his name

He downs the rest of his gin and tonic, his face tightening slightly at the burn of the alcohol coating his throat. He licks his lips, savors the last taste of his drink, and tries to map out in his mind where to go next.

In every sense, he thinks belatedly. His career, this specific night, it all seems to be up in the air and he worries about where he’ll be when it all comes crashing down over him.

Henry lets out a sigh, his index finger tracing the circle of the glass’s rim absentmindedly as he stares at the book he just purchased at the signing nearby. 

The front cover seems to mock him. He stares at the wide grin of the latest internet gaming sensation with a rabid fanbase clamoring to have his story immortalized in written word. It’s the latest in a recent string of ghostwritten works Henry has penned that have sucked his soul more than nourishing it.

This wasn’t at all the future he imagined for himself when he graduated from university a few years ago with a degree in creative writing, ready to take on the world.

He glares back at the book, almost in defiance, before grimacing.

“Whatever it is you're reading, let me make a note not to add it to my TBR list. If it’s got you looking like that, I should steer clear at all costs,” a voice says to the left of him.

Given the relative emptiness of the bar and the specificity of the words, Henry knows this statement can only be directed at him.

He bites back saying that technically it’s his book, if only just not his life story. The NDA was ironclad, and spilling his secrets to a perfect stranger while in a slightly buzzed state is hardly the big finish to his career that he had in mind.

He turns toward the voice and startles for a moment, struck by just how good-looking the man seated two stools away is. He catalogs details of his new barmate:  a mess of unruly curls, wire-framed glasses, and a frenetic energy that both intrigues Henry and puts him on edge. It crackles in the very air, making Henry instantly disarmed.

But it’s the man’s mouth above all else that Henry can’t seem to tear his gaze away from for more than a few seconds at a time, especially as the stranger smirks as if they’re old friends reuniting at random.

That most certainly is not the case.

Henry knows for a fact he’s never seen this man before. He’s got the kind of face and aura that no one would be unable to recall at once, the kind a person would never be able to forget.

“It’s expected to be an instant bestseller, but we’ll just have to wait and see the list next week,” Henry says, finally finding his voice.

The man lifts his brows, conceding the point. “I’ll put a pin in it for now, then, while the jury’s still out.”

Henry smiles softly and pushes the book aside, ready—in every measure—to be done thinking about the book and talking about it. 

He’d much rather set his focus on this man he’s somehow had the fortune of ensnaring in conversation.

Henry perks up a little in his seat. He notices a lanyard around the man’s neck and points it out.

“I take it you’re visiting,” he says, gesturing to the lanyard that disappears under his jacket.

The man places a hand to his sternum, where the corresponding badge must be tucked away.

“Yeah, I’m here on business. I had an all-day convention, but this is actually my last night before I head back home tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Henry says, surprising himself by how this life update of a man he’s only just met hits him.

“You sound disappointed,” the stranger says, that knowing smile painting his lips yet again. Henry thinks it must be something of a trademark for this man. He can only imagine how many people he’s been able to lure in because of it, perhaps without even trying.

“I’m…I don’t know the word for it. Perhaps disappointed will have to suffice.”

The stranger’s face grows a bit serious. He moves over one stool, then the other, bringing them just that much closer. 

Henry, for his sake, fiddles with his empty glass to keep himself busy. It strikes him then just how backwards this conversation has been so far.

“I’m Henry. And you are?” he asks, extending a hand. 

It feels like such an old-fashioned, antiquated thing to do. He’s not at all surprised by the man’s hesitancy, but an almost skeptical look shimmers in the stranger’s eyes for a beat before he takes hold of Henry’s hand and shakes it.

“Javier,” the man supplies before letting go.

Something settles in Henry’s chest at finally having a name to put to this face he wants to see more of— and perhaps do other things with.

“Javier,” Henry repeats. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

Javier smiles warmly at him, and Henry cannot believe how much a small thing like this is making his heart race. But this connection he feels to this man is so unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Certainly, he’s come across attractive people over the years, but there’s some kind of familiarity with Javier, an ease, that makes this feel right.

They pass some time chatting about surface-level things, cracking jokes over two more rounds of their respective drinks. Henry learns that Javier is from Texas and works in sales. He, in turn, reveals the not-so-secret fact that he’s from England, but also that he’s been living here for six years after coming to the States post-university and is a writer. Conversation seems to flow as easily between them as liquor does into a shot glass. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Javier asks after about forty minutes, abruptly curtailing their conversation.

Henry opens and closes his mouth, taken aback by Javier’s forwardness and intrigued all the same.

“I know, I know, that sounds like a total pickup line, but I truly do want to know if you’d like to leave this place and go on a mini-quest with me to find some other spot that serves real food. The kitchen’s closed here, which sucks for me, and my sad empty stomach.”

He rakes a hand through his hair before dropping it into his lap. 

“I’ve had a crazy long day, and the thought of stale pretzels or peanuts that grubby, drunken hands have touched all night is not cutting it for dinner,” he continues, jutting his thumb towards an admittedly gross-looking bowl of bar snacks.

Henry’s nose scrunches a bit before he looks back at Javier.

“You might find yourself growing bored of me before long. Maybe my charm only exists within the confines of this establishment.”

Javier rests his arm on the bar, leaning his head against his propped-up hand.

“Did someone put a curse on you?” Javier jokes. “Somehow, I sincerely doubt that, but I’d be willing to take the risk. And besides, I think we could find plenty of ways to keep the night from getting dull.”

Javier grimaces and puts his hand to his forehead before running it down the length of his face and dropping it.

“Jesus, I really need to get better at not sounding like I’m trying to make a pass at you.”

Feeling a bit bold, Henry lets out a contemplative sound.

“That’s a pity,” he says, continuing to muster up the kind of confidence he doesn’t typically have. “It was actually working for you.”

Javier swallows hard, his gaze unmistakably drifting from Henry’s eyes to his lips and back again. Henry smirks and breaks away, reaching for his wallet and setting down a few bills to cover his drinks for the night. Javier flags down the bartender and closes out his tab.

“Now, what was this about an adventure?” Henry says as he gets off the stool and slips his jacket back on, hooking his tote bag on his shoulder. He crams the godforsaken book inside. Though, now that it’s responsible for striking up a conversation with this handsome man, he supposes he could be a bit nicer to the thing.

He leads Javier out of the bar, still clutching onto his false bravado. This is so unlike him, but for tonight, he figures he can be someone else.

“You’re the expert of this area,” Javier says. “What do you recommend?” 

Henry thinks on it for a moment.

“Well, we’re in New York. Pizza seems like the most logical option, if not stereotypical,” he muses.

Javier laughs. “It’d be quick, hot, and good, so I’m not complaining.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

Javier barks out a surprised laugh and playfully strikes Henry’s arm.

“Oh, you're trouble. A damn deadly combination.”

“And what would that be?” Henry asks, lifting a brow.

“Funny, sharp, and handsome. One might call that being greedy. Save some for the rest of us, sweetheart.”

Henry scoffs as they walk down the street, two women around their age doing a double take at Javier as they go. They quickly turn to each other, talking fast.

“Yeah…I don’t quite believe you’re exactly hurting in that department yourself.”

Javier looks a bit tense, but he quickly relaxes and smiles. “Guess it all depends.”

Henry takes them to one of his favorite pizza shops, a real hole-in-the-wall spot. In Henry’s experience, he finds places like these have the best meals.

They order and grab a table near the back. The bright fluorescent lights are such a contrast to the dimly lit bar, and it only serves to highlight just how good-looking Javier truly is. Now that they’re seated, Henry can’t seem to get his fill of looking at him.

He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that Javier can’t stop looking at him either. It makes Henry suddenly very aware of himself, curious what it is that Javier sees when he looks at him.

As they eat, they continue talking, their legs somehow touching under the table, though neither pulls away. Henry isn’t sure who even initiated it, though he supposes it’s very likely they simply just gravitated towards each other. In all fairness, that seems to be the theme of the night with them, and Henry prays that will continue carrying over.

By the time they’re finished, Henry feels a sinking weight in his chest, knowing they’ll eventually have to call it a night and go their separate ways. He practically drags his feet as they leave.

Henry isn’t walking anywhere in particular, but he assumes it must be in the right direction, as Javier doesn’t protest. He thinks perhaps he should get the guy’s phone number or, at the very least, a social media handle, but to do so would feel like putting a definitive end to the night.

Their arms brush on every other step, and a light rain begins to fall. Henry ducks under an awning of a closed store. Javier leans against the grate on his shoulder.

In the light of the neon signs glowing from the storefront next door, Javier is backlit and practically glowing. 

“Would I be completely overstepping here by saying that I really want to kiss you right now? That I’ve kinda been wanting to since the very second I saw you come into the bar?” Javier says quietly, his eyes latched onto Henry’s.

This shouldn’t be coming as a surprise, given how quickly Javier cozied up to him earlier. But to hear it so plainly like this is a bit jarring all the same.

“I don’t usually do this sort of thing,” Henry blurts out awkwardly. Why these words have decided to fly out of his mouth at this exact moment, he’ll never understand.

Javier’s eyes widen, suddenly looking unsure of himself.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I had a really great night either way. I shouldn’t have pressed it. I’m sorry.”

Henry reaches out a hand without thinking about it and gently grabs Javier’s jacket.

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. I’m merely highlighting the fact that it’s uncommon for me, and yet, with you, I…,” he trails off, shaking his head. “This is the very last thing I could have seen for myself tonight, but I’d be lying if I said I took issue with how it’s all playing out.”

Javier smiles up at him, swaying slightly as he rocks on his heels.

“I’m glad I could be a happy surprise.”

Henry inches closer, still maintaining his grip. It makes Javier stop moving at once.

“Hopefully, the surprises don’t end here,” Henry says, the words coming out almost like a question as his eyes lock onto the other man’s.

Javier tips his chin up, and Henry takes the leap, closing the small distance between them and pressing his mouth to Javier’s.

The man’s lips are soft and warm, inviting even in the tender way he kisses Henry. He’d been expecting a rushed, heated kiss, given the kindling that’s been burning between them all night, but Henry appreciates this speed even more. 

He likes the way Javier takes his time, as if this night is somehow infinite. It makes Henry slow down and truly relish in the moment too. 

For all his shortcomings, in the here and now, Henry’s finally managing to get something right. 

Javier deepens the kiss, his left hand cupping Henry’s cheek, his body pressed flush against him.

They may be on a busy city street, but as far as Henry is concerned, no one and nothing else exists.

He’s never had a first kiss with someone like this before. It’s as if they’re both relying on each other for sustenance, as if they’re the air keeping the other alive.

When they pull apart, Javier’s eyes are still closed for a moment before he looks at Henry and speaks.

“I don’t want to say goodnight to you.”

Going back to a hotel with a guy he doesn’t know, not even his last name or whatever company he works for that brought him to the city in the first place, is so out of the realm of his typical life.

But looking into Javier’s soft eyes now, he can’t imagine he’d be put in any peril at his hands.

“How far is your hotel from here?” he asks.

Javier smiles a little. 

“A few blocks over.”

Just a few city streets separate him from getting his hands on Javier in earnest. A thrill runs up the length of his spine at the thought.

“Let’s go there then.”

Javier’s smile grows, and he pecks Henry’s lips once before leading the way back to his hotel. They pass by a 24-hour pharmacy, and Javier points it out, veering toward the entrance.

“Pit stop. I fully did not expect to be hooking up with anyone on this trip, so we need supplies.”

Henry’s glad for the man’s foresight and pulls open the door for him before going inside, too.

A quick trip to aisle seven and a glorious option for self-checkout gets them back en route to Javier’s hotel.

Henry lets out a low whistle as they approach.

“Impressive,” he says.

Javier rubs the back of his neck. “My company put us up nicely,” is all he says as they head in.

The lobby, with its pristine floor and gold-plated fixtures, is quiet at this hour. The only real sound is their footfalls as they cross the lobby and head toward the bank of elevators.

As they step inside, Henry feels his body craving Javier’s touch at once.

In such a confined space, the urge to push Javier up against the wall is almost overwhelming but Henry fights it off. He’s glad for it, too, when they hear a voice call.

“Hold it, please.”

Javier quickly throws out his arm to keep the elevator doors from closing as Henry pushes the doors open button.

An older woman comes into view a few seconds later. She looks up at them and smiles warmly.

“Aren’t you two just the sweetest? Thank you,” she says.

Javier and Henry smile back at her before settling in again.

“What floor?” Henry asks her. 

“Eight, thanks.”

He pushes for her floor, and as the elevator begins to ascend, Henry feels his eagerness climbing, too.

Javier is close enough for him to smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the rain from earlier, making Henry practically ache with want.

He steals a glance at Javier, but the man is staring straight ahead. It at least gives Henry a look at his gorgeous profile before he realizes belatedly that the elevator doors are reflective, and Javier can no doubt see Henry shamelessly gawking at him.

One look at the doors tells him as much as Javier smirks at him. What’s more, the woman seems to notice, too, as she smiles knowingly at him before dropping her gaze.

Henry suddenly becomes very aware of the pharmacy bag in his hands.

Could she possibly know what’s within the confines of it? Suddenly, it feels as if he has a giant neon sign flashing above his head, decrying that he’s about to get laid tonight.

He doesn’t have much time to truly dwell on it as the elevator stops on the eighth floor and the doors open. She wishes them a good evening.

“Have a nice night, ma’am,” Javier says as the woman leaves, and there’s an unexpected faint twang to the last word, an echo of his Texan roots sneaking out. Henry finds it sweet.

As the doors close, Henry lets out a breath when the elevator resumes its journey to the fourteenth floor. Javier encroaches his space suddenly, pinning his hips against Henry’s. He can feel how hard Javier is— a clear promise of what’s waiting for him in just a few moments.

Henry gets a hand in Javier’s rain-slicked hair and kisses him hard as they make their way to the fourteenth floor. He’s breathless by the time the doors open and they get out.

Javier takes a hold of his hand as he leads them to his room. Henry can’t stop himself. He kisses the man again, his back against the door as Javier fumbles with the keycard.

The door gives way, and they go stumbling over the threshold, laughing as they hold onto each other for balance. Henry very nearly loses his footing, but Javier catches him around the waist and keeps him upright.

They hastily slip off their jackets at the door, kicking off their shoes as well. In their haste, Javier’s head clunks back against the wall, and Henry trips over one of their shoes in the dark, tweaking his ankle a little. There’s a moment where Javier gets tangled in his lanyard as Henry tries to help him remove it.

All their smoothness and finesse from their kiss outside has seemingly fallen by the wayside. 

“Maybe the room is cursed,” Javier muses, rubbing the back of his head.

“And you laughed off my warning at the bar,” Henry replies. “Maybe kissing each other is the antidote?” he continues, eager to feel Javier’s mouth on his again.

“Totally only kissing you now for research purposes and nothing more.”

“I can respect that. Purely academic, yes,” Henry echoes right before Javier gets him up against the nearest wall, grabbing a fistful of Henry’s shirt.

Henry kisses him deeply, his tongue slipping into Javier’s mouth as the man’s lips part. His hips jerk forward, and he whimpers feeling Javier’s cock against his hip.

One-night stands have never been Henry’s forte. But with such a tempting offer before him, this night from hell is taking a turn.

He walks them towards the bed and falls on top of Javier as the man tips backwards onto the mattress. They shift to the top of the bed, and Javier flips them over. Henry’s hands instantly fly above his head, and Javier takes it as the perfect opportunity to get his shirt off. Henry has zero qualms.

Javier turns on the bedside lamp, and his eyes seem to drink in every facet of Henry in the soft light. Javier reaches out a hand for a second before retracting it. Henry smiles reassuringly and takes hold of the man’s hand, guiding it to his chest. 

Javier sucks in a breath, his fingers splayed against Henry’s left pec before gently sliding down his torso, along his abdomen.

“Shit,” Javier says softly under his breath as he stares. 

“Why thank you,” Henry muses.

 Javier laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get cocky, sweetheart,” Javier quips, leaning over him.

Henry laughs but stops as he notices Javier’s chain. He hadn’t seen it earlier, the piece of jewelry once buried under layers of clothes, but it fascinates Henry now.

Henry toys idly with the key that dangles from Javier’s neck, his fingers slipping from the thin silver chain to the jagged peaks and valleys of the key itself. 

“A piece of home,” the man says, answering the question Henry wasn’t sure he had a right to ask.

His eyes flicker back up to Javier’s face, their eyes locking as he continues to fiddle with the key.

“You travel so often that you require a keepsake?” Henry asks, feeling emboldened to do so.

Javier smiles, lips skewing to the left.  

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s stupid, but it helps me feel grounded.”

It’s a candid statement, a level of sentimentality Henry wasn’t expecting but appreciates all the same.

There’s hardly much from his life back in England that he cares to hold on to, but with an entire ocean separating him from home, he can understand Javier’s token.

“It’s not stupid at all,” he assures. “Quite the opposite.”

Something changes in Javier’s eyes, though Henry can’t exactly name it. For a fleeting moment, he wishes he knew this man well enough to gauge his thoughts, to even be free enough to ask for clarity. But he swallows down the question and simply tugs Javier closer to him, their lips meeting in the center of the space between them.

Henry can feel the slight tremble in the other man's body against his. He finds it endearing and—admittedly— a bit of an ego booster. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt someone’s anticipation for him as a palpable thing. It only makes Henry all the more eager to make this night a good one— for the both of them.

Javier kisses him deeply, enough to steal the air from his lungs and make his mind go quiet in a way it hasn’t been able to in weeks. He pours back into Javier, giving just as good as the man gives to him.

He craves more, and his curious hands begin to wander, first at the small of Javier’s back, silently guiding the man to press further against him. 

A moan fills the room, and Henry isn’t sure which one of them is responsible for the sound, but it hardly matters. Encouraged, Henry slips a hand under the hem of Javier’s shirt and is instantly rewarded with the feel of smooth skin and toned muscles beneath his fingertips.

He nips gently at Javier’s bottom lip and tugs, their kiss growing rougher, more carnal as their patience wanes, and he clamors to pull off Javier’s shirt.

Javier looks down at him, a few rogue curls sweeping against his forehead, his brows furrowed almost pensively.

Henry takes the opportunity to rein himself in, to get control of his breathing. The task becomes a bit difficult again as Javier runs a slow hand up from his stomach to his chest and settles at the base of his neck, his thumb softly brushing his throat.

Javier leans into him and kisses the journey his hand made in reverse, his mouth making its way from Henry’s neck to his collarbone, to his chest, to his abs. His breath is warm against Henry’s stomach as he exhales just above the waistband of Henry’s jeans.

Henry’s own breathing is heavy, though he doubts anyone would be able to blame him. His skin is still buzzing in every place Javier’s lips landed, and his cock is straining in anticipation of learning his touch too.

“Is it cool if I…,” Javier trails off, and sincerely, from the bottom of his heart, Henry would accept any conclusion for the question Javier doesn’t even ask.

He nods, not trusting himself not to all-out beg for whatever this man has in mind.

Javier’s cheeks seem to flush a little as he nods once, almost as if steeling himself, and undoes Henry’s jeans. There’s something vaguely bashful about it, but in the next breath, Javier’s eyes are focused like a man on a mission.

Needless to say, this bodes well in Henry’s mind. He gets comfortable still against the bed as Javier undresses him completely. He figures he should probably feel awkward being the only naked one now, but as Javier’s gaze roams his body in its entirety with a look of sheer want and hunger, being fully on display like this hardly seems like anything to feel insecure about.

“It’s actually kinda ridiculous how attractive you are,” Javier says.

Henry laughs. “High praise coming from you.”

Javier continues staring at him, his eyes jumping to different places on his body. Yet still, his hands remain at his sides. 

“You’ve got me here. You can, in fact, touch me,” Henry prompts.

Javier’s face reddens ever so slightly.

“Yeah, for sure. Totally,” he murmurs. 

Henry’s brows furrow. For all his smoothness this evening, Javier seems to be stumbling, his footing no longer secure now that things are well and truly underway.

He takes a tentative hold of Henry’s cock, his eyes widening. He lets go quickly before mumbling an apology. He clears his throat and touches him again, his back ramrod straight.

“Everything okay?” Henry asks after a moment when Javier’s hand trembles a bit but doesn’t move.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

Javier smiles unconvincingly but seems to get back to himself as he starts to stroke Henry. 

It’s stiff and mechanical, with awkward fits and starts. Henry shifts against the mattress in an attempt to get a new angle. But he quickly discerns it’s not his placement on the bed that’s making this handjob unenjoyable. 

Javier is simply ill-equipped to give one.

“Oh my god,” Henry mutters under his breath.

“You like that, hm?” Javier says, completely misinterpreting his words.

There’s no finesse to his movements; it’s all rudimentary at best. 

Henry kisses him, and it’s enough to get Javier to stop his movements.

“I think I’m ready for more,” he says. Henry moves away then and roots around for their purchases.

He takes out the lube and box of condoms, handing the bottle over to Javier.

“I want you to open me up.”

A muscle in Javier’s jaw flexes as he accepts the bottle, their fingertips brushing. It sends a tingle of excitement through Henry, knowing he’ll get to feel them elsewhere in a few moments’ time.

“Cool, yeah,” Javier says, snapping open the bottle. He fumbles with it, and it drops to the bed. He quickly picks it up and squeezes out an obscene amount of liquid.

Henry doesn’t miss the way Javier’s hand shakes a little. He’s about to ask once more if the man is okay before Javier starts coating his entrance.

He squeezes more lube onto his fingers and rubs against Henry’s hole. Henry tries to get his body to relax, but he can practically feel himself leaking lube at this point. He supposes it’s better than the alternative of not having enough lubrication to ease him open, but nothing about this feels particularly sexy.

After a few minutes, Javier works a finger into him. Henry thinks finally, they’ll begin to get somewhere, but Javier fingers him in the most literal, basic sense of the action. His finger pumps in, slips out, then dips back in to repeat it all over again. There’s nothing skilled about it, no switch up even as he adds another finger. It doesn’t feel like he’s even trying to stimulate him by finding his prostate. By the time Javier adds a third finger, it’s clear he’s just completely neglected the idea or simply never had it to begin with.

“We’re good now,” Henry cuts in, keen to put an end to this horrendous fingering.

Javier nods and grabs a condom from the box Henry unearthed before and works quickly to get it onto himself.

Henry sighs and tries to clear his mind and stay optimistic. Maybe this time around, the third time will be the charm, and they’ll manage to get back in sync with each other.

Javier adds even more lube to Henry’s entrance, and at this point, the mental image of what the sheets must look like almost makes Henry burst out laughing. He bites his bottom lip, and above him, Javier does the same as he coats his cock, giving himself a few quick strokes.

Javier grips Henry’s hips as he aligns himself.  

“Are you ready?” he asks.

Henry nods, holding onto Javier in turn. He breaks eye contact, staring at a point on the wall just past Javier’s ear as the man slowly enters him. 

Javier shudders, and Henry can admit the slide of the man’s cock inside him feels good. It’s been far too long since he’s been intimate with someone, and Henry can’t help but cling to the familiarity of being physical like this.

He clutches Javier’s shoulders and brings them closer together. Javier’s breath catches, and he stays frozen for a moment. Henry rolls his hips forward, silently letting Javier know it’s okay to proceed.

Much like with his fingering, Javier’s thrusts leave much to be desired. Henry wonders if perhaps he might be nitpicking, but this all falls so flat. He tries to get a rhythm going for them, but it’s as if they’re both tuned into different frequencies, their bodies out of step as they move to different beats. 

Above him, Javier moans, crashing their hips together.

“You feel so good,” he rasps. 

Henry contemplates the ways it’s possible for two people to be experiencing the same moment but have such contrasting points of view.

It’s not that Javier necessarily feels bad. Objectively speaking, his cock fills him up nicely. It’s just that it doesn’t seem like Javier really knows how to use it fully to his advantage. A part of Henry thinks he should speak up and give some tips, but the thought of making this even more awkward keeps him quiet. He opts instead to make some convincing noises here and there.

“I’m so close,” Javier pants.

That makes one of us, Henry thinks tersely as he bucks forward, still holding out some small sliver of hope that Javier will find his groove. 

Any potential for that is dashed as Javier finishes with a shudder, his breath raspy in his ear, moaning Henry’s name. Javier takes a few steady breaths before pulling out.

Henry doesn’t spare a moment in pulling the covers over himself, disguising the fact that he didn’t actually reach his end as Javier disposes of the condom and settles into bed again.

Beside him, Javier is looking up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looks thoroughly satisfied, and, if nothing else, Henry is glad to see he actually enjoyed himself. 

“Are you okay?” Javier asks, turning suddenly on his side, searching Henry’s eyes. He looks so expectant, his brown eyes looking more like a puppy dog’s, and Henry sees very little point in voicing the truth but he doubts he can convincingly manage a lie.

He splits the difference and smiles, making a noncommittal sound before leaning in and kissing Javier.

This the man is spectacular at, and Henry clings to that to redeem the night. He gets lost in their kiss as best he can, but flashes of their encounter just moments ago keep springing to mind, shattering the illusion.

Javier pulls away first, stifling a yawn.

“Sorry. It really has been a day,” he says.

Henry shakes his head.

“It’s alright. You should get some sleep.”

Javier’s eyes look a bit unfocused as fatigue seeps in further.

“Night, Henry,” he says softly, pressing his lips to Henry’s one more time before closing his eyes.

His face is instantly softer with sleep, and the guilt that trickles throughout Henry for the fact that he cannot stay a moment longer than necessary is immediate.

Henry bides his time, waiting until Javier is in a deep sleep before gingerly climbing out of bed, careful not to jostle it and run the risk of Javier waking to find him scampering off. 

When he’s on two feet again, Henry quickly moves about the room, retrieving his clothes and redressing.

He looks one last time at the bed and Javier’s sleeping figure.

This is for the best, he reasons, even as guilt taps on his shoulder once more. 

He’s careful in closing the door, turning the handle all the way as he pulls it in behind him. It closes with a quiet click, and Henry holds his breath as he listens for any sounds on the other side of the door. After a few seconds, he feels assured that he’s in the clear.

It would be his luck to find a guy as interesting and attractive as Javier on a night like this, only for it not to end in fireworks but to go up in flames.

The universe truly has a vendetta against him, certain to get in one last laugh at his expense.

~*~*~

Pez HELLO?! Where is the confirmation you haven’t been beamed up to outer space?

Pez If the aliens are sexy then I suppose I can’t hold it against you for your silence 

Pez Send proof of life or I am calling the authorities 

Pez Drink lots of water, my love xoxo

Henry

Negative on the sexy aliens. However, I must confess to making contact with a very attractive man. Does that constitute as out of this world enough for you?

Henry sees three dots appear and vanish for the briefest of seconds before an incoming call from his roommate flashes across his screen instead.

He sighs, knowing full well he should have seen this coming.

He accepts the call and before he can open his mouth to greet his best friend, Pez is firing on all cylinders.

“I want a detailed recap of your night at once or, so help me, God, I will track you down and claw it out of you.”

“Easy now. No need for threats I know you’d make good on,” Henry says, heading into the kitchen.

He pulls down a mug and plucks a tea bag from the canister on the counter. He drops it inside of the mug.

“My night was…interesting,” he says, moving next to the kettle and adding water.

Pez makes a perplexed sound over the line, not that Henry can blame him.

“You don’t sound like a man whose life has been altered by mind-blowing sex despite the description of this mystery man. What exactly happened?”

Henry shudders a bit as the memory of Javier’s hotel room comes to mind. He can still feel the excessive amount of lube even though he’d showered thoroughly the second he got home.

He recaps the night just as Pez demanded while he makes his tea, not skimping on all the details even as his face burns as he recounts it all. Pez is aghast, gasping and shrieking right on cue as Henry describes the night and his early morning escape. 

“Anyway, I still feel rather guilty for leaving while he was sleeping, but I couldn’t bear the thought of having to talk about it.”

“You worry too much. It was a one night stand. Staying the night is not customary nor is it mandatory. You got in, you got out. That’s standard protocol for an evening such as this. Especially as this handsome devil turned out to be a dud.”

Henry frowns. “Still. Some kind of acknowledgment would have been the decent, proper thing to do. I hope I didn’t offend him.”

Pez tuts twice.

“My darling Hazza, life is too short to waste it dwelling on mediocre hookups. All the same, I must say I’m particularly proud of you, young chap! Sowing your wild oats without much abandon! You’re like a brand new man. My little Henry, all grown up right before my very eyes.”

“Have I expressed lately just how much I loathe you?”

“Sweetie, don’t lie. It’s most unbecoming.”

Henry rolls his eyes and smiles to himself as he sets his mug to his lips and drinks. His phone buzzes and Henry pulls it away to see another call coming in from his agent.

“I’ve got to run. Shaan is ringing me, but I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Pez bids him farewell and Henry quickly switches over.

“Henry,” Shaan greets. “Are you busy today? Would you be free for lunch?”

“How sweet. Are you thinking about buying me a meal?” Henry muses.

He can practically hear Shaan’s eyes rolling.

“Hardly, but there are some people who are interested in doing such. An American actor just got acquired for his autobiography and he and his team responded quite well to your samples. They’d like to meet with you today.”

Henry freezes, surprised by the news.

“Wait, seriously?”

“He and his manager are leaving this afternoon, but they’d love to meet you if you’re able to make it for lunch. It’s a bit of a time crunch here.”

Henry eyes the clock. His afternoon is in fact free; he can certainly make the meeting but the question still remains, does he even want to? Last night’s borderline career crisis is still top of mind. He’d been so ready at the bar last night to throw it all away, to give up ghostwriting, to get back to telling his own stories instead of being the unknown voice behind others.

Henry pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“If I go, it’s not a commitment, right?”

“It’s just an inquiry, a get-to-know-you for everyone.” Shaan pauses. “Is everything alright with you? I know things with that gamer guy didn’t go over so well, but from the pitch, it truly sounds like these guys are going to give you true access to Alex. They want this to be extremely collaborative.”

Henry purses his lips and stands up straighter.

“Alex. That’s the actor then?”

“Yes, Alex Claremont-Diaz. He was on that teen vampire show, I’m completely blanking on the name right now. The vampire craze a few years back really was hard to keep track of. Anyway, he’s been in a few made-for-TV movies and has made some guest appearances over the years. His fans love him. I think this could be a great opportunity for you and what they’re offering is pretty substantial. They’re putting their weight behind this one in a big way.”

Despite the man’s resumé, Henry hasn’t the foggiest idea who the guy is, but he figures it’s a better alternative than knowing him for negative reasons.

“Would you be up for taking the meeting?” Shaan asks. Henry can hear a bit of strain in his voice.

There’s no harm in at least going, Henry thinks.

“Of course, yes. Just text me the details and I’ll be there. Thanks for setting this up, Shaan. Sincerely, I appreciate it.”

He hangs up and looks around his kitchen, his mind racing. In an ideal world, he would do his due diligence and look up this actor and make sure he’s the kind of person he’d even want to get to know, let alone invoke on the page.

Instead, he’s only able to make a mad dash for another shower and throw together a presentable outfit before heading out the door. He checks the text that had come in from Shaan while he was getting ready to get the meeting details.

He makes his way into Manhattan and to the restaurant, giving the name Shaan told him the reservation was under, Zahra Bankston.

He’s led through the tastefully decorated restaurant and brought to a table with a woman with a no nonsense expression as she types furiously on her phone and a man who makes Henry believe he’s having either a stroke or some kind of psychotic break.

Though his head is down perusing the menu, it was only a few hours ago that Henry had a view like this: that head between his legs trying in vain to make him come.

There’s only a split second before the man looks up, confirming what Henry already knew. All the same, it still feels like a dagger to the heart seeing that face again.

“Ah, you must be Henry,” Zahra greets him, rising from her seat. “Thanks so much for squeezing in this meeting. But with us in town, it would have been crazy not to at least try getting some time together.”

Henry, to his credit, manages to function enough to smile and answer back. From the corner of his eye, he can see Javier—Alex—avoid looking at him and taking a sip from his glass.

“My pleasure, really. I’m glad I could come.”

Alex chokes on his water, quickly patting his chest twice and coughing.

Zahra looks over at him, a sharp perfectly groomed brow lifting.

Alex holds up a hand and gestures for them to continue.

Henry wonders how long it’ll take for Alex to actually utter a word.

“Your samples were incredible and that’s not me blowing smoke up your ass. You’ve got such a range. We’d love to see what you could do with Alex.”

Henry looks over at the man just then and their eyes meet.  

Unlike last night, there are no glasses obscuring Alex’s face. He looks different somehow in the daylight, his features sharper– every bit the celebrity he’s now been revealed to be. Even how he carries himself is different. Henry chalks it up to Alex now having an air of professionalism. Last night as Javier, he didn’t have to be someone embarking on a meeting. He could let his guard down and be himself freely, even with a fake name and fabricated backstory.

Henry looks away and tries to get his head on straight, to exist right here at this table rather than being pulled back to retrace last night.

Zahra’s phone vibrates on the table, rattling her cutlery. She grabs it and looks at the screen, sighing.

“Crap, sorry. I have to take this,” Zahra says impatiently, removing her cloth napkin from her lap and putting it on the table before she bustles off.

Without her, Henry feels completely unmoored and the shockwaves of seeing the man next to him again shake him once more.

“Okay, well, this is awkward,” Alex says flatly. 

He’d been so quiet this whole time, Henry was starting to think he’d lost his voice in the hours that separated their run ins.

“Understatement of the century. I never thought I’d see you again.”

Alex laughs. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression when I woke up alone.” 

He says it lightly, but his words still land like punches to the gut.

Henry frowns. “I’m sorry. Everything last night…going back to your room, I told you, that’s not really me. You weren’t actually you either though. Here on business? Working in sales?”

Alex’s brows furrow. “I couldn’t be. Hell, I didn’t know if you might’ve known who I was or not. It was a risk so, yeah, I fibbed a little.”

“You fibbed a lot, Javier.”

Alex’s face is unreadable and Henry thinks perhaps he’s taken this a step too far.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

Alex waves him off. “I probably deserved that, but for different reasons, I couldn’t be honest. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Henry imagines himself in Alex’s shoes, a man with a certain level of public notoriety. He can picture how difficult it might be to forge genuine connections with people when there’s an underlying fear that it’s merely seen as an opportunity for a quick fifteen minutes of fame.

“I can. I’m not actually mad. I’m just…God, the last twenty four hours have been some of the most confusing for me.”

Alex laughs dryly. “You’re telling me.”

Henry can sense there’s a backstory here, but he doubts he’s in a position to ask for details. Instead, he takes a cleansing breath.

“Had I known this meeting was with you, I wouldn’t have taken it. I’m clearly not the right person to have on this project. When Zahra gets back, I can let her know. Or I’ll have Shaan phone her later.”

Alex’s head snaps back a bit as if he’s been struck.

“Whoa, wait. Henry,” he says softly and instantly Henry’s brought back to last night, the way Alex rasped his name.

He squeezes eyes shut, blocks out the memory before pulling himself back into the moment.

“We’ve gone through so many freaking portfolios and yours really stood out the most. That doesn’t suddenly change just because of yesterday. We called you in on merit, on your talent. I still think you’d be the best person for the job. You don’t even know just how perfect you are for this. Please consider it? Whatever happened between us, we can just ignore it and start fresh.”

Henry searches his eyes trying to see if he can detect any underlying doubt but Alex’s face is completely earnest. 

Before he can answer, Zahra comes bounding back to the table. Her presence is so commanding, people from other tables stare after as she passes by.

She either doesn’t notice or she simply doesn’t care. Either way, Henry is in awe of her.

“Okay. Where were we?” she says as she settles into her seat.

Henry still feels shaken by Alex’s plea and the curiosity he felt before is only amplified tenfold as Alex’s words play on a loop in his head.

Why would Henry of all people be the ideal candidate, even with their recent history?

“Right,” Zahra continues, clapping her hands together. “Alex will be hitting the con circuit in full force while the announcement goes live in two weeks. You’d go with him, getting complete access to panels and photoshoots, everything so you can shadow him for research.”

“The announcement?” Henry interjects.

“Crescent Valley will be doing a reunion special,” Alex answers. “It’s under wraps for now, but we’ll be breaking the news during this tour. It’s something fans have been asking for for years now. We know it’ll get a ton of great coverage. But when we start out at the first stop in Portland, you’ll be able to get the hang of what it’s like on the road before the madness kicks in.”

“And, uh, how many stops exactly?” Henry asks, his head already hurting at the mere thought of the costs.

Zahra must pick up on it as she says, “Ten-city tour this time around plus time in L.A for reunion-related filming. All your travel expenses and lodging will be covered. You’ll also receive a per diem while you’re on the road with Alex for these three months.”

She picks up her glass and takes a sip of her wine.

“You’ve got a damn good agent in Shaan. He negotiated for an advance as well. You’re practically robbing the publisher, but honestly, good for you. You’d be worth every cent.”

It’s a lucrative deal, far more than Henry could have imagined. A multi-city tour, an advance. It sounds too good to be true. Last night he’d had one foot out the door with this career. Now, it felt as if a red carpet was being rolled out at his feet.

“So, what do you say? Can we tempt you?” Zahra asks. Henry is quickly learning to appreciate how direct she is, even if it is slightly intimidating.

Henry can’t help it; he looks right at Alex then.

“I can honestly say you’ve already succeeded in that.” 

He holds Alex’s gaze for a moment before he looks back at Zahra. 

“I’m in.”

~*~*~

Henry spends the better part of the day after lunch falling down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos of Alex, everything from Entertainment Weekly interviews to fanvids. The content is bottomless and if there’s one thing to be clear, it’s that Shaan was right. Alex’s fanbase is devoted, the comments sections overrun with people making declarations of love for both Alex and his character. On more than one occasion, he’s seen oaths from people vowing they’d leave their current relationships if given the chance to date Alex.

From their ferocity, Henry doesn’t think they’re being hyperbolic.

He’s part way through Alex’s BuzzFeed puppy interview, because of course Alex has one, when he hears Pez coming home from his spot on the couch where he’s spent far too many hours stretched out with his laptop.

Pez enters with a tote bag of groceries on his shoulder and flowers, no doubt from his favorite stall at the farmers market.

“Have you ever heard of an actor named Alex Claremont-Diaz?” he asks Pez by way of a greeting.

Pez stares blankly at him and, for a moment, Henry worries something has happened to his best friend until Pez sets down the flowers and tote bag and plants his hands firmly on his hips.

Henry is sure the look he’s going for is stern or authoritative, but it's very hard to take Pez seriously when he looks more like a deer caught in headlights.

“Are you playing jokes on me? You know I could not shut up about Crescent Valley when we were uni! Of course I know who Alex Claremont-Diaz is, that delicious slice of apple pie.”

Henry snorts a laugh, keeping himself back from saying he’s actually had a taste firsthand.

“Why the sudden interest in him?” Pez asks, picking up his discarded items. Henry follows him into the kitchen.

“We had lunch.”

Pez turns back sharply from the cupboard he’s just opened.

“Pardon me? You and whom exactly? Certainly not Alex Claremont-Diaz! That simply cannot be. That is not news you just oh so casually drop like you’re giving me a weather update, Hen. Are you positive you didn’t meet aliens last night? Surely you’ve been possessed. One night stands and rubbing elbows with celebrities. I mean, my word.”

Henry smiles to himself. If only Pez knew the totality of it, of the way this all intersects.

“Paint the scene! But start from the beginning. How in the world did you end up on a lunch date with Alex Claremont-Diaz, the man I once believed was my destiny?”

Henry rolls his eyes at the latter part of Pez’s words.

“I will tell you, but only if you stop using his full name every two seconds. You can just say Alex.”

“Oh, well. Excuse me. Have I been replaced? Have you gone off and made a new best friend then? Your precious Alex,” he says, fluttering his lashes on the name.

Henry scoffs.

“I haven’t been able to cut you loose yet, so I’d wager you’ve earned your stay in my life, much to my dismay,” he teases before he starts to explain Shaan’s call and the snowball that his afternoon became as a result of it.

“This is unreal,” Pez says by the end of it, awe coloring his tone. “Where’s the first stop?”

“Portland.”

Pez claps his hands together.

“We must go shopping for flannel at once.”

Henry gives him a deadpan look.

“What? They’d probably bar you from entry into the state if you don’t look the part,” Pez jokes.

“You just want an excuse to dress me up like I’m a Ken doll.”

“But, I mean…aren’t you though? You strapping young lad you.”

Henry rolls his eyes and smiles.

“I’m going to miss you. It’ll be strange going weeks, months really, without having you around.”

Pez puts the back of his hand against his forehead and drapes himself dramatically over the counter.

“I suppose I’ll have to fend for myself. You can write me letters. Carry my photo in a locket to remember me by. Tattoo my name on your heart so that I know the love is real.”

“On second thought, perhaps I won’t miss you at all.”

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #ronenrubinstein #usernicholas #usersteen #kimmy writes

[reyescarlos]

thanks for the nudge @pragmatic-optimist here's some of the college exes au. enjoy part of a mother and son moment with Andrea and Carlos

Carlos looks at his phone again, at pictures of TK in New York with people he doesn’t know, snapshots of a life lived without him.

It makes something in his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Are you happier now having him back in your life than you’ve learned to be without him these last few years?” his mother asks, bringing him back to the moment.

It’s a loaded question, one of which Carlos isn’t entirely sure how to answer without revealing things he’s not exactly ready to admit.

“I’ll always care about him," he says

It’s a cop-out, truly a non-answer, but Andrea lets him have it.

“Then let that be enough. You get a second chance to have back someone that means something to you. That’s a rare thing in life, mijo. If you don’t want it to be anything more than that, that’s more than alright.”

It’s been a few days and Carlos still hasn’t fully absorbed this new reality.

“You told me once before that he was your best friend.”

Carlos smiles a bit in spite of himself. His mom playfully bumps her shoulder to his.

He’s glad he can smile about it now, but coming home at the end of junior year and opening up about TK had not been a fun experience in the slightest.

He can remember it all too clearly. His mother simply asked how he felt to be back at the ranch and Carlos lost it entirely. He was home, physically, but his heart was over two thousand miles away with a boy he hadn’t heard from in weeks.

Carlos had broken down completely in his mother’s arms. She held him, no doubt scrambling to piece together what he had been relaying to her. The words flowed from him, often incoherently but still, she held him and hung on to everything he sputtered.

He opened up in ways he thought himself incapable of, but what he experienced mattered too much, was too big for him to grapple with on his own.

His mother sat with him for hours, the two of them having a lengthy discussion. His father had come home from a shift to find them on the couch, Carlos’ head in Andrea’s lap as Carlos finished up the last of his final talk with TK at the hospital.

Gabriel had looked on worriedly seeing him so distraught, but Carlos didn’t have the energy to fill him in. Andrea sent Carlos off to bed to get some sleep and assured him she would talk with Gabriel on his behalf.

Carlos hadn’t been expecting this to be thing that finally broke through the invisible barrier he and his parents hadn’t crossed since he’d come out at seventeen, but from that day on, they’d both found the words they struggled with back then.

Carlos’ mind floods with memories of his relationship with TK, the joy and ease he felt with him before it all went to hell in the end. Even with all that fallout, Carlos still thought highly of him.

“Yeah, he really was.” He can hear the fondness in his own voice and see it reflected in his mother’s eyes.

“That’s reason enough to seize this opportunity. Not everyone gets a second chance at their first love. Whatever it means to you going forward, cherish this because it’s a gift.”

“I wish you could have met him years ago.”

In truth, Carlos wishes he’d been comfortable enough to even tell his parents about TK back then. His mother seems to understand that as she nods solemnly.

“Yes, I wish things had been different. Looks like this second chance can do us all some good. I’d like to have him over, if you’d be okay with that,” she says. “It’s belated, but I’d like to get to know him. I know your dad would too.”

Carlos can recall how sympathetic his mother had been towards TK upon hearing about his struggles with sobriety. During his recount five years ago, Carlos had been fearful that by the time he finished with the full story, his parents would somehow think he was better off without TK, that it was ultimately a good thing their relationship ended, that this was all simply too much for a twenty year old to shoulder.

Instead, she’d said she would pray for him and his recovery. That she truly hoped his time back home would genuinely help.

“I’m still trying to figure out who he is now…who I am now that he’s back in my life. What any of this even means. I just…I didn’t think I’d actually ever see him again.”

His mom takes a hold of his hand and skims her thumb gently across his skin. It’s soothing enough to quiet Carlos down; Andrea’s technique never fails.

“These aren’t questions you need to answer right now. Take it one day at a time and before you know it, this will all fall into place as it’s meant to. At this moment, what’s the next step you want to take?”

Carlos sits back and searches his heart for a second before the answer falls from his lips.

“I’d like to see him again. I need to see him,” he corrects. “We could work up to you and dad getting to know him too. That would mean the world to me.”

Andrea beams.

“To me too, mi amor. We’ll get there. I know it.”

tagging @sunshinestrand @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @tailoredshirt

#wip wednesday #911 lone star #tarlos #carlos reyes #andrea reyes #userthai #usernicholas #ronenrubinstein

[evanbukley]

| cutie pie!! 🥰

#oh look there's the other loml!! #what a blessed day!! #ronen rubinstein #jddryder #alielook #userthai #posts* #actuallysara #userbones #ronenrubinsteinsource #ronenrubinstein

[leedongwook]

OKAY BUT THE WAY VEGAS GETS ALL CHOKED UP WHEN HE SAYS THAT PETE IS NO LONGER HIS PET AND THAT HE'S THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN MY LIFE?! I THINK ABOUT THIS ON THE DAILY!!!!!!

I KNOW RIGHT HE FEELS IT SO DEEPLY ITS TEARING HIM APART AND HE NEEDS PETE TO KNOW THAT HE LOVES HIM BUT NOT AS HIS PET BUT AS HIS PARTNER HIS SOULMATE AND THE PAINED LOOK IN HIS FACE WHEN HE TELLS HIM FINALLY BEING ABLE TO TELL PETE TO LET HIS FEELINGS OUT IT MUST BE SUCH A RELIEFE FOR VEGAS HE BOTTLED THIS ALL UP FOR SO LONG AND NOW HE CAN TELL PETE AND HE CAN TOUCH HIM AND KISS HIM AND SHOW HIM WHAT I MEANS TO BE LOVED BY VEGAS HOW BEAUTIFULLY VEGAS LOVE CAN BE AND PETE LETS HIM ALWAYS LETS HIM jkashjdkhajsdhjaks BONNIE I AM SO DONE WITH THEM *cries in my coffee*

#ronenrubinstein #ask #reply #personal #good to know i am not the only one losing my shit over them #THEY RUIN ME ON THE DAILY #vegaspete #kinnporsche

[tarlos-spain]

#rafaelsilva #ronenrubinstein #lonestar #911 #tarlos #9 1 1 lone star #9-1-1 lone star #911 lone star

[cdnladykathy]

I only have eyes for you.

#911LoneStar #tarlos #tarlosforever #tarlosedit #lgbtq #tkstrand #ronenrubinstein #carlosreyes rafaelsilva #carlosandtk

[danieljradcliffe]

no pairing is safe on station 19, except maybe miranda bailey and ben warren

Literally the reason I stopped watching Grey’s Anatomy yet here I am???? The firefighters reel me in every time lol and I know not to get invested in any ship but… my emotions lol I am a shipper first and human being second

#station 19 #Christine answers #ronenrubinstein

[ramblesandreblogs]

she awakens from her year long slumber!!!!! welcome back, jules!

Thank you Bonnie!!!! 💛💛💛🥹🥹🥹

#ronenrubinstein #asks #(based on my dash. I have to either start 911 or the vampire show…. #maybe both? 😝) #💛💛💛

[sunshinestrand]

GIRL, TELL ME MORE ABOUT PRINCE!CARLOS!!!!!!

BONNIE!! I SO WISH I COULD HAVE MORE FOR YOU ABOUT THIS. It literally came from a comment from @pragmatic-optimist about how Rafa looks like a prince plus how much she would like to see a royalty au and I've always wanted to write a royalty au so bam, that's how that came to be. I have an original story idea that I abandoned simply because I couldn't do it. But it was basically a prince falling in love with a thief. However, there's the potential of a modern day one but I would have to map that one out a bit further. So, I have to think and make decisions about what I would like to do.

JUST... I think about Prince Carlos a lot and he will come eventually. I just need to figure out how because we as a fandom deserve it.

#fic things #ronenrubinstein #answered #bonnie <3

[chaotictarlos]

RONEN RUBINSTEIN via Chaiseyboyy TikTok

#RONEN RUBINSTEIN #chaise #Chaiseyboyy #911 lone star Cast #ronenrubinstein

[nathiegraph]

Ronen Rubinstein

(| Credit - Nathie |)

#RonenRubinstein #ronen rubinstein #ronen rubinstein avatar #avatars #avatar rpg #fc #faceclaim #rp #rpg #rpg ressources #avatar 400x640

[avacoleman]

when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either.  After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man.  As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

chapter 2/8 || rated e || read on ao3 *updates every tues. and fri. *

Portland, OR Rose City Comic Con Day 1 [Unknown number] hey, i hope you’ve made it safely [Unknown number] in case it wasn’t clear, this is alex. i’ll catch you later. maybe we can grab a bite or something after today’s panel? Henry saves Alex’s number and confirms that yes, he’s arrived in one piece and would be happy to join Alex after the event. All of this is still wrapped in impossibility for Henry. Even though he’d been fully briefed on the tour and signed his contract, the fact that he’s now embarking on a multi-city tour with Alex hasn’t sunk in yet. The six and a half hour long flight didn’t do much to lessen the surrealness and now that he’s here at the venue, Henry doesn’t see an end in sight to the feeling. The convention center is, in a word, daunting. For as much as Henry loves Lord of the Rings and Star Wars, he can’t say his appreciation for the franchises has ever been this devout or even close to it. All around him people are decked out in elaborate, truly remarkable costumes. Some are easy to ID like Doctor Who and Marvel characters. But others are so obscure that Henry can’t even hazard a guess. It’s overwhelming but also kind of intriguing too, seeing people be wholly themselves and embrace the things they love. He forces himself to focus up as he grabs a directory map of the convention’s floor plan for reference before going up to one of the booths for his credentials. With his badge secured, he looks at the map again and makes his way over to where Alex’s panel is being held in one of the larger rooms. It takes him some time to find it; the convention center is practically a maze. But he spots a blowup outside the door clearly marking the panel, Supernatural in the Mainstream. By the time he gets inside, the room is packed and the excited chatter is practically tangible. 

Henry spots a few Crescent Valley fans in t-shirts referencing the show. Admittedly Henry still hasn’t started the series, but before he hopped his flight out of JFK, Pez spent the vast majority of their last few days together giving Henry a pretty substantial rundown of the essentials, including some cast trivia. Most notable from the recap was learning that Alex had dated one of his co-stars, Nora Holleran, during season two. Henry decided it was none of his business– only after doing a Google search on her.

Even with the knowledge that the show resonated with so many people while it aired, it’s strange to reconcile it with the fact that the guy he met on a whim at a bar is part of such a cultural force.

After a few moments, a woman takes to the stage, introducing herself as the moderator. The audience is ravenous as she introduces the panelists and Henry almost goes deaf from the screams Alex earns when his name is called.

Henry studies Alex as he crosses the stage, waving to fans and putting a hand to his heart in appreciation for the warm reception. The large monitors on either side of the stage zoom in on his face and the sincere gratitude Alex feels is plain as day in his eyes.

“Alright, let’s get started, shall we?” the moderator says to kick things off.

Alex in his element during the panel, magnetic really. Even though he’s one of four panelists, it’s so clear to see how he effortlessly draws people in. 

Henry takes out his notebook, hoping to glean something in any of Alex’s responses to the questions directed at him that can be a kernel of an idea they can turn into the core of this book.

He can’t shake Alex’s words during their lunch with Zahra, the way it seemed that Alex sincerely wanted his book to be about something real. 

Vanity cash grab celeb autobiographies were a dime a dozen. Henry figured for people who lived so heavily in the spotlight, it probably felt like the natural progression of things. But with Alex and his team being so adamant in their search, scouring through profiles in hopes of finding the right person to pen Alex’s story, he had to believe this book would actually stand for something other than more dollars in their pockets.

There isn’t much that Henry is able to take away for research other than noting the way people gravitate towards Alex. More than once, he’d actually seen people in the audience quite literally shift to the edge of their seats as he spoke.

When the panel is over, Henry fights against the current of attendees to make his way backstage. He presents his badge to the man at the entrance who gives it a once-over before deeming it to be authentic and ushering Henry through the curtain.

Alex is easy to spot, holding court just as he’d done on stage before, this time with a small audience of just the moderator and his fellow panelists. He’s got a water bottle in his hands, preparing to take a sip when he catches sight of Henry instantly and politely excuses himself from the group.

“You survived day one. How’d you like it?” he asks.

“Your world is very different from mine, but it’s pretty cool,” Henry admits.

“Good, I'm glad to hear it.”

There’s a lull as Alex looks him over and Henry suddenly feels oddly self-conscious and small. Seeing this side of Alex, the sheer star power, is a bit overwhelming.

“You're done for the day, right? I took another look at the itinerary this morning. You’ve got the signing tomorrow, yes?”

Alex nods. “Yeah, I’m all yours starting now.” The man’s face instantly flushes. “You know what I mean.”

Henry offers up a smile that feels more like a white flag. 

“We should head out,” Alex says.

He moves away and heads back to the others in the room, making his parting remarks before touching Henry’s elbow and guiding him to a set of double doors he hadn’t initially noticed when he entered. Henry is treated to a glimpse of the convention center’s underbelly, the private exit that leads them to a secluded area outside on the street level.

Henry is sure it’s probably all in his mind, but now that it’s back to just him and Alex, away from the adoring fans and bright lights of a main stage, the man standing before him now is someone else entirely again. Henry wonders if he’ll ever be able to wrap his head around the two versions of Alex that exist in this world.

“There’s a park not too far from here. Do you want to walk around for a bit?” Alex asks.

It’s a random ask but Henry is glad for it. He’s not sure what to do with himself as they try and find their rhythm around each other.

They make it to the park a few minutes later and walk alongside the edge of a small pond.

Henry turns to attempt starting a conversation and it seems as if Alex had the same thought too; they bump arms immediately and both rush to apologize.

Henry sighs and stops walking.

“I have to ask. Are you still sure about this?” 

Alex’s eyebrows furrow. 

“What do you mean? This walk?”

Henry crosses his arms and gives him a dry look.

“Ah. You being on this project then,” Alex says.

Henry nods. 

Alex looks at him. “Of course I am. I won’t lie, it is a bit of a mindfuck when I stop and really consider it. I’m still trying to figure out how to be around you. But my opinion on your work? My decision to collaborate with you? That hasn’t changed. Not one bit. So, yeah, we had a good night. Great conversation and even better sex,” he muses. “But I can forget it if you can.”

Henry snorts out a laugh in surprise that he quickly tries in vain to cover up as a sneeze. Alex, rightfully, doesn’t buy it though Henry wishes desperately that he would. He hates the way Alex’s face falls. 

“Are you…do you mean you didn’t enjoy it? That I wasn’t…,” Alex trails off.

Henry’s basic functions betray him and his mouth merely opens and closes like a landlocked fish struggling for breath.

In the end, no response is an answer within itself and Henry watches the varying degrees of what can only be described as horror play out across Alex’s face.

Goodbye tour, goodbye contract, Henry thinks. All gone before it even truly got started.

For a man that writes for a living, Henry falls short on what to say. How could he possibly salvage this now?

“I…it…,” he flounders. 

Bang up job, Henry, he internally chides.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my fucking god,” Alex whispers to himself. “Crap, that’s why you snuck out then, isn’t it?”

Henry winces. While that is an astute, wholly accurate description of what he did last week, hearing it so plainly — and from Alex’s lips no less— just makes it sound that much harsher.

“Maybe it was just an off night. It happens sometimes. But look, we don’t have to talk about it. Like you said, we can both forget it ever happened. Today can be our official day one.”

Alex shakes his head, refusing to let it go.

“No. What didn’t you like about it?”

“Alex, come on. Seriously. We don’t have to get into it.”

Alex takes a step closer.

“Please? I want to know what I did wrong.”

Henry frowns.

“That’s harsh; don’t frame it like that. Just think of it as…areas of improvement.”

Alex crosses his arms. “That isn’t much better, but I guess you’re right.” Alex pauses. “Okay then, what do I need to work on?”

Henry groans and looks up at the sky.

“I…how is this happening right now?” Henry mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead and turning his eyes to the water.

He gets a wild fantasy of jumping into the pond and hiding in its depths to avoid this conversation. Could he hold his breath long enough to wait Alex out? He’d be willing to test that hypothesis if it meant even five seconds away from this talk.

When he looks back at Alex, the man’s eyes are unwavering and Henry’s instantly transported to the night in question. To how wide eyed and earnest Alex had been after they had sex and he checked in. It makes something in his chest crack a little, enough to put a hole in the wall he hoped to build around the truth.

“Well, the handjob was a bit…rigid. And when you were working to open me up, that felt a touch awkward. And then when you were actually inside me, it was rushed and uh, a tad repetitive. You were enthusiastic, which was nice, but I couldn’t quite mirror that.”

He hopes his answer is diplomatic, but he knows there’s simply no easy way to say any of this. 

Alex’s brows knit together deeply and it feels like a lifetime before he speaks again.

“So…sex. You’re telling me I’m just straight up bad at sex as a whole?”

Henry groans and slaps the palm of his hand against his forehead.

“Like I said, it could have been an off night. We were drinking, we were both overexcited. The room was cursed or perhaps I really was, remember? There’s a lot at play here.”

Alex is quiet again, too quiet for Henry’s likings. Henry awkwardly scratches the side of his nose and rocks slightly on the balls of his feet as Alex stares off at nothing before turning his gaze back on Henry.

“I’ll take this into consideration. Thank you, Henry. I appreciate your honesty.”

It’s clinical and closed off and Henry wishes he could take back the last few minutes. But the truth is out there, the ball squarely in Alex’s court and Henry can’t help the sinking feeling that he’s about to lose it all.

~*~*~

Rose City Con

Day 2

Much like yesterday, Alex continues to be incredible with fans. It’s only a signing today, but Alex’s energy is on one hundred for each and every person that comes his way. He poses for pictures and makes good conversation with fans. He asks them questions, learns a bit about each of them. It’s clear to see the knack he has for making everyone feel like they’re having a unique, truly personal interaction with him.

Several people come up to him already in tears and overwhelmed, but Alex doesn’t seem fazed by it at all. Henry is impressed with the way Alex puts them all at ease in no time, cracking jokes as he signs merch.

Henry has no clue how Alex manages to keep his enthusiasm going for hundreds of people. The fact that this is only the first city makes his head spin. He’s not even the one engaging with people and yet Henry feels exhausted merely watching Alex in action.

Henry barely managed to sleep last night. Each time he closed his eyes, he was brought right back to the water’s edge with Alex, replaying every painstaking moment of their conversation. 

There was no time to talk about it this morning. The last thing Henry wanted to do was throw a wrench in Alex’s day when he had this signing scheduled.

Looking at Alex now, it makes Henry commend actors for their ability to truly compartmentalize and put their focus where it needs to be.

Once the signing wraps and the final Crescent Valley fan is off with a bag full of newly inked merch, Henry sees the first crack in Alex’s mask. His shoulders sag a little and he rolls his neck from side to side before standing.

He hops down from the slightly raised platform he was seated on. Henry walks towards him without really thinking about it.

“Are you heading back to the hotel now?” Alex asks.

Henry cocks his head to the side, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“I was going to…unless, do you have something else you need me to shadow you on?”

Alex shakes his head.

“No. I was hoping we could talk.” 

Henry looks around. There are still some stragglers from other signing lines though they’re out of earshot.

“We can go back together,” Alex says decidedly. 

They take a car service back to their hotel and Henry is all too relieved once they’re outside again. The ride over was silent and heavy with the weight of whatever Alex wanted to say but couldn’t in the moment.

All that free time merely left Henry with a thirty minute window to dream up scenarios of what Alex wanted to discuss. Every single one of them ended in him being fired and pulled from the tour.

“Can we go to your room?” Alex asks.

Henry nods stiffly. He figures maybe it’s for the best. At least he’d be able to pack his things immediately after Alex chewed him out and sent him on his merry way back across the country to New York.

For now, three thousand miles don’t separate them, merely three feet as they head up the elevator. 

A feeling of déjà vu sweeps through Henry, but this evening couldn’t be any more different than the night they met. Instead of crowding each other’s space and making out, they keep enough distance that their clothes don’t even come close enough to touching, never mind any other parts of them.

Henry lets them into his room and pockets his keycard as he steps inside. The door slamming shut behind Alex sounds ominous though Henry fully recognizes that’s probably his irrational brain conjuring the sense of foreboding.

“So…you wanted to talk,” he says, toeing off his shoes and setting them neatly along the wall. The sooner they got this over with, the better.

Alex nods, crossing his arms against his chest, his hands holding firm to his biceps. The positioning makes him look so small suddenly, vulnerable even. It’s such a sharp contrast to the energy Alex had with fans not too long ago. 

The enigma of Alex Claremont-Diaz continued to baffle him.

“After we spoke yesterday, I took some time to think about everything. I decided to do some research,” Alex says. “I went back to past partners to see if they shared your point of view.”

This isn’t at all where Henry thought this conversation was going. All the same, he plays along, still bracing for the worst. This could all well be a roundabout way of him getting the axe.

“And what were the results of your findings?” he asks.

“They were inconclusive. They all said they never faked it with me which got me thinking again. There’s a factor to consider here that varies from the others.”

Henry's confusion must register on his face because Alex sighs and rubs his face.

“I’ve recently…uncovered something about myself that probably should have been super obvious to me. But hey, you know what they say about hindsight.” 

Alex groans in frustration at himself.

“Can you, like, just face the wall or something? I’d really rather not have to look at you when I say what I’m about to.” 

“Your ridiculousness truly knows no bounds, does it?” Henry huffs but Alex quickly levels him with a glare.

Henry holds his hands up in defense, knowing a lost cause when he sees one.

“Fine, fine,” he says, turning away. 

He can see Alex in the reflection of the TV screen and a part of him feels guilty for not owning up to this fact when sees the tension in the man’s shoulders and watches as Alex shakes his hands as if warding something off.

“My past partners were all women. It’s come to my attention in recent weeks that I’m bi and the night we hooked up…that may or may not have been the first time I had sex with a guy. So maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t stellar at it for what I think is a pretty valid reason when you think about it.”

Henry turns back so suddenly the soles of his clothed feet scrape against the carpet. He’ll think of the rugburn later, but for now, there are bigger things to focus on.

“Alex,” he says, unsure of where to even go next. His mind is racing so quickly, it’s hard to make sense of anything right now, not with Alex’s confession laying bare before him. 

“Your shoulders barely even fit through doorways so I don’t want your head getting big too,” Alex quips, “but…I wanted to be with you that night. It felt like nothing else really mattered to me except getting into bed with you because we really vibed and I wanted to see where it could go. And I know that sounds totally lame and cheesy and probably pathetic as hell or whatever, but it’s true.”

Alex rolls his eyes at himself, stuffing his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“This doesn’t have to be a big deal. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be a thing, period.”

“Alex,” Henry says again. This time, something in his voice must stand out because the other man finally stops talking and looks directly at him.

Henry holds his gaze for a moment, needing his words to ring clear.

“It should be a thing because it is in fact a big deal, contrary to what you might think of the matter. Coming into your sexuality, it can be a lot mentally and emotionally. Add in making physical strides…you took a major step that night. That sort of thing isn’t easy to do.”

Alex huffs out a terse laugh.

“It was a swing and a miss.”

“I’ll pretend that’s a cricket reference instead of the tragic baseball one I’m sure it was intended to be.”

Alex’s lips quirk into a reluctant smile just as Henry was hoping it would.

“The only cricket I’ll acknowledge is Jiminy,” he says.

Henry laughs. “I’ll allow that inane response. We’ve got more important things to discuss.”

Alex sighs and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, his head lobbing back as he looks up at the ceiling. All it does is expose his smooth neck and Henry looks away before the sight gets the better of him.

He follows Alex over and sits beside him, his hands resting on the comforter on either side of him. Alex doesn’t rush to speak which Henry grows a little concerned with. Alex is hardly ever quiet or still. Seeing him like this now, Henry can practically hear the whirlwind of rushing thoughts. 

“I should hope that by now, you know you can be honest with me. That’s quite literally what I’m here for. Whatever’s on your chest, you can say and it’d be completely safe. Let your conscience be your guide and all that.”

“God, I hate you,” Alex says, but there’s no bite to his words, especially as he smiles softly and rests his head against Henry’s shoulder.

“Thanks for being so cool about this. Part of me is still not entirely convinced I won’t be struck dead from embarrassment later but, if I had to get news like this from anyone…I sure as shit am glad it was you.”

“You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. This just explains a lot. I’m sure you’ll only get better from here on out, now that you know.”

Alex sits up and snorts a laugh.

“And how many guys will I have to fuck until I get it just right?”

“Is that a riddle? A rhetorical question? Some kind of demented R-rated Goldilocks reference?”

“I’m genuinely asking here,” Alex says sincerely, enough to get Henry to quiet down. “What if I never figure it out and I’m just this trash partner for dudes going forward? How many is standard for it to, you know, click?”

Henry smiles sympathetically. “I can’t answer that for you.” Alex frowns, but Henry continues. “It could be ten or it could be as little as one. It’s different for everybody. You just need to get more comfortable with it.”

Alex’s brows furrow, his lips pinching slightly before he looks away. It’s almost an identical look to his expression that night when he was taking his time in touching Henry for the first time.

“What are you thinking?” Henry asks now, unlike that night. They’re well past that stage of being tentative.

Alex opens and closes his mouth before shaking his head.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he says, getting up from the bed and running a hand through his curls.

Henry rises to his feet too as Alex turns back to him and speaks suddenly.

“I’m hungry. You hungry? What do we think the room service situation is like here, hmm? I’m guessing high volumes of quinoa and other rabbit foods. A damn shame. I weep in Texas barbecue. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for some good barbacoa right now,” he prattles on as he tries to sidestep Henry.

Henry gently catches hold of his arm and stops him in his tracks. Alex sighs defeatedly and looks up at him.

“Maybe we’ll get to a point where I’ll be able to read your mind, but until then, I’d really like to know what you’re thinking,” Henry says. “Please.”

Alex sighs again. “Well, when you ask so nicely.”

Henry lets go of him then and holds his gaze. The stalemate ends as Alex collects his thoughts and courage.

“I was thinking, maybe you’re onto something with that whole ‘one person’ thing. Like…I don’t know, maybe that one person could be you? You could, maybe, teach me. Show me the ropes. Or at the very least, explain how I could be better. You know, give me pointers and stuff…if you’d even go for that.”

Henry’s jaw drops slightly, his blood rushing and pounding in his ears. For all his ribbing and joking before, Henry can tell Alex is completely serious now.

“You know, I can’t read your mind either, right? You’re gonna have to say something. Ideally right this second because if I thought I was out on a limb before, I’m freefalling right now and spiraling is not cool or sexy,” Alex says.

Henry blinks twice, letting Alex’s words fully sink in.

“Wait…you’d want to…with me again?”

Alex rolls his eyes and throws his hands up.

“I feel like you deserve a redo. And besides, do you see any other hot British men around here who know my secret shame?”

Henry startles out a laugh.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed and we British men do not travel in packs.”

“Tell that to the Redcoats. British men traveling in packs,” Alex repeats and shudders. “No good ever came of that. Just open any history book at random.”

“My god, do you ever stop talking?”

“Usually when my mouth is occupied in other ways.”

Henry quirks a brow.

“Down, boy. Get your mind out of the gutter. I was absolutely talking about when I’m drinking coffee or eating food or—“

Henry puts his hands on either side of Alex’s face.

“For the love of God, can you be quiet for two seconds so that I may think?”

Alex mirrors his raised brow.

“Holy shit, you’re actually gonna consider this?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Henry shakes his head and lowers his hands. “I mean, yes, there are a hundred and one reasons why we shouldn’t. Chief among them being that we’re here for business not pleasure.”

“But seeing as though we kinda shot that to hell without meaning to…,” Alex supplies. “I freaking love loopholes. I really do.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Henry looks up at the ceiling briefly before shaking his head.

“If we do this, we’re going to have to be very, very careful. I don’t want to jeopardize our working relationship. This book has to always come first.”

“Of course.”

Henry sits once more on the bed, Alex stepping close to him with his arms crossed against his chest.

“If this were to happen, we’d need to establish some ground rules. No staying overnight in each other’s rooms. If, for any reason, one of us wants to call it off—,”

“No questions asked. No awkwardness,” Alex says. “Simply not wanting to anymore would be reason enough.”

Henry nods. “Yeah, exactly.” He purses his lips. “And it won’t be a daily thing either.”

Alex scoffs and puts his hands on his hips.

“Jesus, do you think I’m insatiable? You’re hot, but I promise you, I can in fact exercise some self-control.”

“In the short time that I’ve known you, I must admit that’s coming as quite a revelation, but I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Alex rolls his eyes and smiles softly, his face a bit thoughtful. Henry can’t look away as Alex speaks, especially as he takes note of Alex’s change in tone, the way he grows more serious and contemplative.

“I’m gonna make it up to you. That night.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Besides, this isn’t even about me. I’ll just be here to help you figure out what your future partners might like.”

“And the best way for me to start with that is by learning what you like. When the time comes, yeah, I’ll figure out how to make another guy come undone. But in the meantime? These next few weeks? It’s just me and you. I want to make you feel all the things you should have when we were together. Every sigh, every moan, every desperate breath. I’ll earn it for real this time.”

Henry’s throat feels a bit dry at the thought, at the determination in Alex’s eyes. 

“Is that a promise then? A challenge perhaps?” he manages to say, trying to keep his composure even as he feels himself getting aroused.

Alex doesn’t miss a beat as he says, “Sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”

~*~*~

Phoenix, AZ Canyon Con

One of the best parts about agreeing to be the ghostwriter for this project is undoubtedly the ability for Henry to visit cities he’s never been to. 

The flight to Arizona with Alex was enjoyable and this time around, they’re set up in an AirBnB for an entire week.

They’ve settled into their temporary new digs pretty nicely and Henry is looking forward to making further progress with Alex and this book. 

Neither of them has actually brought up the other day and the deal they’ve struck with each other. Henry hasn’t been sure how to breach the topic, but now that they’re set to stay inside this rental for the week, it feels like it’ll take true Herculean effort to ignore the elephant in the room for much longer.

He reasons that since it was Alex’s idea, he’ll leave it to him to mention when he’s ready. For now, they have been able to tiptoe around it, making conversation about virtually anything else.

Henry takes up residence on the couch with his laptop, headphones on as he queues up Crescent Valley. He’s begun watching the series as part of his research. He’s halfway through season one and he still can’t tell if he likes the show or not. Despite that indecision, he can sincerely say Alex is a pretty great actor.

The show itself is campy at best, but there’s something very earnest in Alex’s portrayal of a newly turned vampire attempting to find balance in the two worlds he’s a part of.

Episode nine begins and for better or worse, Henry finds himself getting sucked into it. He rues the day already when he’ll have to confess to Pez that he should have watched along with him back when they were roommates in university. He’ll never hear the end of it. He’d better start preparing now for the resounding chorus of “I told you so”.

Henry’s so wrapped up in the show that he jumps a little when he sees a figure in the doorway of the living room. Alex is now both on his screen and here in the flesh.

Henry awkwardly makes to get up, hitting pause and taking off his headphones.

“Did you want to watch television in here? I can go.”

Alex’s brows furrow a little.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to hang with you. I know we haven’t really had much time to sit down about the memoir yet, so maybe we could now? But if you’re busy though, we can do it later.”

Henry shakes his head and closes out of Crescent Valley. He switches over to the Google Doc he created, storing away all the notes he’s been taking from various interviews he’s watched and read of Alex.

“Now would be great. It’s been nice seeing you out there with fans, but what I’m still trying to understand is the reason why you want a book at this time. What’s the angle or message you want readers to connect with?”

Alex takes a seat on the single seater across from Henry. 

“I want to talk about my sexuality, my ADHD, being a tragic child of divorce, the highs and lows of being in this career. But, mostly the first part.” 

Alex takes a deep breath and lets it out.

“I want to come out and maybe in doing so, it’ll help someone else to make sense of the things they might’ve been feeling for years, but never knew how to dissect or put a name to.”

Henry thinks back to their initial business meeting. Alex had made it clear that despite their past, Henry still remained his top pick to ghostwrite. Alex had also said there were different reasons why he hid the truth of who he was. Now it all slid into place since Alex’s admission the other day.

“Alex, that’s incredible. This is huge.”

Alex smiles nervously. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing it, but I feel good about my decision. My friends and family know. I feel good about myself, even though I’m still figuring this out.”

“You’re taking a big step and on the world stage no less. That’s pretty remarkable. I’m proud of you. I’d be honored to help tell your story.”

He takes his phone out of his pocket.

“Do you mind if I record? It helps me to get details correct and it’s also useful in getting your cadence right when it comes time to start writing.”

“Not at all. Go for it,” Alex says.

Henry nods and opens his voice memo, hitting record. He asks questions about Alex’s upbringing, the sort of little things a quick Wiki search can’t tell a person. 

True to the terms of the contract and Zahra’s assurance, Alex makes himself, for a lack of a better term, an open book. He gets candid about how his parents’ divorce coupled with his relative celeb status has made it difficult for him to put much stock into the concept of dating, especially with people outside the industry.

This fact in particular strikes Henry though he decides not to examine that too closely.

After about an hour and half, Henry decides they’ve covered enough ground to get him started.

“This was great. Thank you,” he says, looking over the new notes he’s taken and saving the recording.

“Yeah, of course.” Alex still looks contemplative and for a moment, Henry merely chalks it up as a side effect of their in-depth conversation until he stands and Alex speaks up.

“Um, could we talk about the other thing too?”

Henry doesn’t need clarification. He tucks his laptop under his arm and sits back down.

“Of course we can.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath.

“I couldn’t sleep last night and I kept thinking about the problem areas you mentioned. One thing you’ll learn about me is that I like making lists and stuff to keep me on track. There’s a neurosy or two in there, but let’s not look at it too hard right now. We can get into that later for the book,” Alex says.

“Point is, I ended up making a sort of…outline for us and these sessions so they have some structure to them. You can talk things out first and then maybe we could have a practical portion. I can link you to the live doc.”

Henry blinks a few times.

“That’s comprehensive. You've made a sex syllabus.”

Alex’s cheeks flush slightly.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Alex, I’m British. I thrive off structure and formality. I’d quite like to see this outline so yes, please, link me.”

He stands up again.

“Maybe you could come by my room in about an hour?” Henry suggests. “The deal was that the book comes first. I’d say we made sufficient progress today in that area,” Henry says, tapping his laptop.

Alex blinks twice. “Sounds good.” 

His tone is almost detached and before Henry can ask if he’s alright, Alex is already on his feet with his phone in hand.

Henry retreats to his room and sets his computer down on the nightstand. He hears the chime of his inbox and he opens it to find an email from Alex, subject line “aforementioned sex syllabus 🍆💦”.

Henry laughs and opens it.

The first lesson, Back to Basics, has subsections for kissing and touching.

Henry closes out of the doc as his eyes look at later topics like fingering and oral. He begins to pace, his neck feeling hot at the road ahead. 

In all fairness, at least, this first lesson won’t be difficult at all. Kissing is as harmless as it comes and Henry can attest to the fact that this wasn’t actually an area in which Alex needed improvement.

All the same, Henry knows there’s merit in easing them into this new working relationship instead of jumping into the deep end on day one.

An hour goes by much faster than Henry could have anticipated and suddenly Alex is knocking at his door.

Henry squares his shoulders and crosses the room to let him in. He takes some reassurance in the fact that Alex looks as uncertain as he feels.

“Hey,” Alex says as he comes in, taking a look around himself before landing back on Henry. Even though these sessions were Alex’s idea, Henry gets the feeling he’ll have to be the one to get the ball rolling tonight.

“I will preface this lesson by saying you don’t need any pointers in this department.”

Alex smiles to himself and Henry has to admit, it’s kind of adorable seeing that reaction.

“Regardless, I think your guideline was pretty smart in starting out slowly with these sessions. We can build up from there.”

Alex nods. “Cool, I’m glad you agree.”

Henry stuffs his hands in his pockets. “And you’re sure you want to do this, right? I won’t be offended or anything if you’ve had a change of heart in the past hour.”

Alex shakes his head. “No, I’m still in. I guess I’m just nervous about screwing things up a second time. I don’t know if I could readily bounce back from that level of humiliation.”

Henry steps closer to him, removing his hands from his pockets and instead encircling Alex’s waist.

Alex’s eyes widen but he doesn’t shrink away or look uncomfortable. If anything, he looks curious. Expectant even.

“I think the best way for us to get past the awkwardness might be to simply embrace it,” Henry says.

Alex peers up at him, his eyes drifting to Henry’s lips and back just as he’d done that night right before they kissed for the first time.

This time around, it’s Alex who makes the first move and tugs Henry closer. Henry can’t hide the way this affects him. His breath catches as Alex leans in and presses his lips to Henry’s.

It’s reflexive to kiss him back at once. Alex had left his brain in an absolute fog that night in New York as they kissed on the street and weeks later, Alex hasn’t lost his spark.

This kiss doesn’t mean anything. It won’t lead to anything and Henry thinks that’s what allows him to rid himself of any self-consciousness or second thoughts.

Alex’s kiss grows hungry and quickens and for the sake of Henry’s quickly beating heart, he needs them to take it down one notch or two.

“A bit slower,” Henry says softly against his lips. “I don’t want to rush this.”

Alex smiles and does as he’s instructed. He kisses Henry agonizingly slowly, perhaps out of spite, but Henry relishes in it. Alex’s tongue skims along the seam of his lips and Henry opens his mouth to him at once, gripping Alex’s hips as their tongues meet.

He breathes in deeply, his mind growing hazy in that way that Alex is too good at initiating. Henry feels like absolute putty in Alex’s hands, entirely malleable. 

Alex must know it too as he takes control and walks Henry back to the nearest wall. Henry instinctively drapes his arms over the man’s shoulders, lightly threading his fingers through Alex’s hair.

Alex lowers his hand between the two of them and lightly cups Henry. Henry sucks in a surprised breath at the touch.

“Next time,” Alex says quietly, tauntingly.

Henry whimpers in protest.

“Unless,” Alex tacks on in question.

Henry pulls his face back a little and licks his lips.

“Touch was on the agenda, right? We can do a teaser.” Henry sighs. “Rather, selfishly, I really want you to keep touching me. That felt nice,” he admits.

Alex laughs softly but places his hand back over Henry. His cock twitches immediately at the attention. He clenches his jaw as Alex strokes him lightly over his clothes. Henry’s eyes shut, his head resting back against the wall.

His arousal grows with each stroke, his whole body feeling liable to melt. If Alex had touched him like this their first night, it most definitely would have set a different tone for the evening.

He rocks forward as he resumes their kiss. Alex tentatively squeezes his cock. Henry moans against his lips, heart pounding. Alex squeezes him again before continuing to stroke him. Henry can feel himself leaking.

Alex’s hand creeps up, gripping the waistband of his jeans. Henry desperately wants to feel Alex’s skin on his in earnest, but he reminds himself that this is merely their first day. He can’t lose himself like this, no matter how good it feels.

He touches Alex’s wrist lightly and opens his eyes. Alex stills at once and lets go.

“I think that’s good for day one,” Henry whispers.

Alex nods. “Yeah, that was, uh,” he clears his throat and returns his arm to his side as he steps back, “that was enough.”

And yet still, Henry wants more. He wonders if it would be wiser or more efficient for them to blow through the lessons in one go. Maybe that way they could in fact spend the rest of their time together doing what they’ve signed contracts for and are actually getting paid to do.

But the knowledge that he can get access to Alex like this for several more weeks makes him throw away all sense and logic. He wants an excuse to keep these clandestine meetings going.

“I’m gonna grab a shower,” Alex says unhelpfully. All his words do is put images in Henry’s mind that shouldn’t be there.

Henry nods stiffly. 

“I’ll get started on dinner for us in the meantime,” Henry says. Maybe getting lost in the rhythm of cooking will make it easier for him to calm down.

“I’ll see you in a bit then,” Alex replies.

Henry sees him out and waits until he hears Alex’s footfalls down the hall before locking his door and undoing his pants to finish the job Alex started.

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #ronenrubinstein #usernicholas #usersteen #tusersilence #userjamiec #kimmy writes

[reyescarlos]

into you || a tarlos fic

summary: TK Strand has one objective: find the courage to speak to the cute boy he's been admiring from afar for the past year. Carlos Reyes has one objective: find inspiration to complete his art portfolio at any cost.

When a chance encounter with his crush goes horribly awry, TK concocts a plan to get back in his good graces. As time winds down toward the end of the semester, the two grow closer, discovering new parts of themselves and each other.

for @carsonnshaw my angel. sorry this is so late! i just really wanted to get it right because you deserve that and so much more, my love! i hope you’ll enjoy it! 💕💜

word count: 19.6k | rated e | read on ao3

Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move Before I make a move

As TK stands in the gallery surrounded by art projects, one thought springs to mind: he’s completely out of his element. This isn’t how he’d typically spend a Friday night. Those are preferably spent hitting up a party on campus or otherwise occupying himself with some kind of mindless entertainment.

The upside to tonight is being able to spot glimpses of Carlos. TK has never once spoken to the guy before, but he’s certainly taken notice of him on campus from time to time. It’s privately part of the reason why TK agreed to come tonight in the first place. He doesn’t know much about the man aside from the fact that he’s an art major and keeps to himself.

TK has never seen him at any of the parties his frat or any other for that matter, have thrown on campus. To say they run in different circles would be an understatement, but TK has been hoping desperately for a chance to cross paths with him in an organic way. So many times he’d see Carlos around school grounds, head in a book or otherwise hanging out with his cluster of friends. Each time a part of him would want to march right over and introduce himself, strike up a conversation and see where it could lead.

It all started last year, perhaps embarrassingly so for TK to admit liking him for so long. All it had taken was spotting Carlos sitting alone on a bench in the quad, sketching into an art pad. There was something so captivating about how he was able to zero in to whatever he was working on in the middle of laughter and chatter around him.

Over the next few months, TK would see him unexpectedly, only learning his name after one of his friends shouted it.

TK isn’t typically shy when it comes to guys. It’s something he prides himself on, but with Carlos, it’s different. The guy is way out of his league, interested in things that TK doesn’t really understand.

TK spots him again now, talking to another student, adjusting his clear framed glasses. Carlos looks a bit nervous tonight and TK figures this event must have him on edge. He couldn’t imagine doing this himself, putting something he’s worked on up for public judgment.

Carlos continues on with his conversation, running a hand through his curls. The tuft of hair at the very top sticks up even higher now.

It’s impossible not to stare at him but TK forces himself to look away. This crush on Carlos is a fruitless one at best, but TK sees little sense in torturing himself by staring at something he’ll never be able to have.

TK sighs softly to himself and stands up straighter as Paul hands him a plastic cup with sparkling cider which he gladly accepts. He focuses on the walls, each one covered with multiple pieces of artwork from paintings to drawings with small placards with students’ names beside them.

“Which one’s Josie’s?” he asks.

Paul beams proudly and leads him over to the right side of the room. Josie’s mural is massive. TK isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel, if anything, when looking at it, but the color combinations are gorgeous and in TK’s eyes, that’s enough to mark it as nice in his book. He says as much, earning a laugh from Paul.

They continue moving around the packed space, going from piece to piece. Paul, far more cultured on these things than he could ever hope to be, has something to say about each one. It’s yet another reason why TK is convinced Paul and Josie are perfect for each other and why he would never stand a chance with Carlos.

TK and Paul move on to the final painting. Paul goes on about the composition, but all TK sees is globs of color and brushstrokes on a canvas.

“I don’t really get it. What is that I’m supposed to be seeing here? Anyone could slap paint on a board and call it art, when you think about it, right? It’s all so subjective.”

“Just what every artist wants to hear,” a voice says on the other side of him.

TK startles at the sound, but shock quickly turns into dread as he turns his head and finds himself looking into Carlos’ eyes.

TK blinks twice and looks at the painting, his gaze drifting to the placard that very clearly spells out Carlos’ name.

Embarrassed, TK stammers.

“I wasn’t….I didn’t mean,” he says, not even sure what he could possibly say to remedy this.

Carlos holds up a hand to stop him and TK is grateful for him intervening because he’s fairly certain he’d keep sputtering nonsense until the end of time.

“I’m sorry,” he spits out.

Carlos scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to get it.”

The shift from apologetic to offended is so swift, it leaves TK feeling disoriented for a moment.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Carlos shrugs. “Exactly what I said.”

TK opens up his mouth to respond but Carlos turns away just as quickly as he appeared, leaving him without a chance to reply. TK’s mouth snaps shut, his jaw clenched as he watches Carlos’ retreating figure disappear into the crowd.

For all the times he’s imagined talking to Carlos for the first time, trading insults before a proper greeting hadn’t been on his list of possibilities.

“What the hell just happened?” TK asks, still frozen in place.

Paul stands shoulder to shoulder with him, folding his arms over his chest as he looks after Carlos as well.

“I think you just made an enemy.”

~*~*~

I don’t really get it.

The words of a stranger shouldn’t bother him this much, but given that Carlos has spent the last few weeks stressing out over his final portfolio, this feedback has confirmed his biggest fear: he’s truly lost his muse.

Carlos stares now at the empty canvas in front of him, willing inspiration to hit him. This isn’t something he can force, he knows that as sure as anything else. It does very little to stop him from trying anyway. The semester ends in just two months and Carlos is no closer to figuring out what he wants his portfolio to say than he had been at the start of it.

Carlos cracks his knuckles, a nervous tic he’s spent a lifetime trying to break out of but it can’t be helped. He can hear TK’s words playing on a loop in the back of his mind along with his own self-doubt signing off on the comment.

It’s been a full twenty four hours and Carlos still feels guilty for being so curt. He can admit, at least to himself, that he’s been severely preoccupied and sensitive over his work lately. The unexpected artistic block has hampered everything he’s attempted to make this month. He isn’t performing to his usual standard and it’s unnerving, to say the least.

It feels as if every time he blinks, he can see the look of confusion on TK’s face. In truth, Carlos knows it was a low blow to hurl such a snide comment at TK. They’d never spoken before but Carlos knew of him in the way he imagined just about everyone else did. He was a member of some fraternity, the Greek letters completely lost to Carlos who never put much stock in such things.

Carlos groans and throws his paintbrush down.

“I take it things aren’t going well in here then, huh?”

Carlos turns at the sound of Grace’s voice and feels his irritation at himself melt away as she comes into the room.

“Hey, Gracie,” he says, doing his best to put on a happier face.

But there’s no fooling her. Grace comes and drapes an arm around his shoulder.

“How long have you been in here driving yourself up a wall?”

Carlos smiles halfheartedly. “One disastrous hour.”

He pulls in a deep breath and lets it out loudly. Grace soothes him with a squeeze of his shoulder.

“Try switching mediums?” she suggests, quickly looking at him. “Did I say that right?”

Carlos laughs. “Yes, you did and I think you may in fact have a point. I haven’t done figure drawing in a while. It’d be nice to get back to that.”

Grace raises a brow, staring at him blankly.

“Drawing human form,” he supplies.

“Ah, I see. You’d need a model, right?”

“Are you, by chance, offering?”

Grace smiles apologetically. “I wish I could; it’d be an honor. But the writing center needs me. End of term always gets students through our doors. You could put up ads, though. I’m sure you’d get at least a few takers and you can go from there. You’re bound to find at least one good option.”

“I’ll take those odds. Thanks, Grace.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says, giving his shoulder another reassuring squeeze.

She looks at the empty canvas and frowns.

“I’m sorry you’re having a hard time lately. I know that must be frustrating.”

Carlos sighs. “Yeah, it’s bad enough that I got negative feedback last night.”

Grace’s arm falls away. She pulls up a nearby stool and sits beside him.

“What happened in the two seconds we weren’t together?”

Carlos cracks his knuckles again as he replays his exchange with TK for the hundredth time. Before last night, he’d only known the name and face in passing. Now it feels as if both are indelible in his thoughts.

“TK Strand happened. He said he didn’t really understand what he was looking at when he was standing in front of my piece.”

Grace frowns. “Sounds more like a personal problem on his end, if you ask me.”

For as much as Carlos wants to buy into that theory, there’s a nugget of doubt large enough to eclipse the small voice in his head telling him TK is right.

“But what if he has a point? I mean, it’s been weeks and nothing I make is translating well. He’s not even into art and he could tell I did a bad job. I’m going to blow my portfolio. I never should have signed on for the showcase.”

Grace puts a hand on his knee.

“You, take a breath now. You did not do a bad job. Not in the least bit. You’re being way too hard on yourself here, Carlos. You’re easily the most talented person that I know. You create magic each time you touch a blank page. Don’t let him or anyone–– yourself included––make you believe otherwise, you hear me?”

Carlos smiles at her before pulling her in for a hug.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muses. “But honestly, thank you.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek and pulls away.

“I did give him a piece of my mind though, just a little bit.”

“Is that so?” Grace says, folding her arms across her chest.

Carlos cringes a little as he nods.

“Not my proudest moment, I’ll admit. He apologized, but it still stung. Still does.”

“Turn it into fuel to get your work to where you want it to be. That’s the best thing you can do in a case like this. Focus your energy on the steps ahead of you, not the ones you’ve already passed.”

Carlos takes Grace’s advice to heart and two days later, he’s plastering flyers around campus, putting out a call for volunteers to model for him. His expectations are low as he’s sure most people would be reluctant to blindly sign up for a stranger to study and draw them. Still, it’s well worth the effort now to at least try. At this point, Carlos is so desperate for something to work that he’s willing to try anything.

He spends the better part of the afternoon walking around campus, hanging up a flyer on every notice board he happens across.

He ends his posting at the cafe on campus, heading to the board just a few feet away from the entrance. Carlos is fishing out his small box of pushpins when he hears a semi-familiar voice behind him.

“Hey, it’s you.”

It hits him suddenly who the voice belongs to.

Carlos does nothing to hide his disdain as he turns around and he doesn’t think he can be blamed for it. TK is quite honestly the last person he wants to see right now. TK bites back on his lower lip, rocking a bit where he stands. It’d be endearing if he weren’t still so bothered by what happened at the showcase.

“Look, I was hoping to run into you,” TK says. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was being a total dick. I didn’t mean to be, but either way, it wasn’t cool. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Carlos replies curtly, setting his remaining few sheets of paper down on the table and grabbing the top one.

Carlos turns away from TK and pins the paper to the corkboard. In theory, this should be the end of the conversation but TK not only remains in place, he continues to talk.

“So, are we good?” TK asks.

Carlos looks back over at him. TK is far more persistent than he thinks is necessary but it’s almost as if it's a matter of absolute importance for him to make Carlos understand he’s serious about making amends.

“Does it even matter? Up until the showcase, we’ve never said a word to each other. I’m perfectly fine going back to that. I appreciate you apologizing or whatever, but we can just leave it at this. It’s fine.”

It really isn’t, but at this point, Carlos wants nothing more than to forget the other night. TK reappearing out of the blue just brings him right back to that godawful moment.

“Do you at least forgive me?”

Carlos sighs, his hands settling on his hips as he looks TK directly in the eyes. He wants to make this as perfectly clear as he can.

“No, I don’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really have to get going. Goodbye, TK.”

Carlos picks up his things and leaves TK standing there to let the message sink in once and for all.

~*~*~

TK slams his bedroom door the second he’s inside. It feels as if the force is enough to rattle his teeth, but he’s far too angry to even care. He tosses his backpack down and begins to pace. The walk across campus to his frat hadn’t been enough to ease his frustration. His irritation only seems to have grown on the trip over.

TK’s door swings open and Paul stands at the threshold, eyebrows raised.

“Whoa, what is going on? You blew through here like a hurricane. What happened to you?”

TK clenches his jaw, nostrils flared as he continues to pace, not breaking his stride for even a moment.

“He was such a jerk. I apologized and he just flat out refused to accept it. I thought he was cool with everyone.”

“Wait, who are you even talking about? Carlos?”

TK nods and Paul rubs at his temple.

“You’re still on about that? It’s been days, man.”

TK scowls and looks away. He’s been fixated, he can admit, on the fact that he and Carlos have somehow ended up at odds with one another. The shift happened so quickly and each attempt now at setting things right continues to blow up in his face. It doesn’t sit well with him to know that Carlos is angry with him.

“Yeah, it has been and he’s still holding it against me. I said I was sorry then and I apologized again today. He’s still mad at me.”

“Well, most people don’t go around openly trashing his artwork, so there’s also that to factor in,” Paul deadpans.

This gets TK to stop in his tracks. He crosses his arms over his chest before quickly dropping them, certain he must look like an unruly toddler throwing a fit.

“I didn’t think he’d take it so seriously. I wasn’t even talking about him exactly.”

Paul leans against the door jamb.

“You like to be liked. I get that. But I think this one may be a lost cause. You were in the wrong but you owned up to it. There’s nothing else you can do about it.”

TK knows this, fundamentally. That still doesn’t mean he’s willing to accept it.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

TK pulls the flyer Carlos had posted in the cafe out of his back pocket and hands it over.

Paul eyes it warily but reads it nonetheless with a groan.

“This is your brilliant plan to get into his good graces? Do I need to report you to campus security? You’re one move away from being this guy’s stalker.”

TK grabs the paper back and looks it over for the umpteenth time.

“I’m not stalking him. I’m…willing to offer up my time to him. Worst case scenario, he rejects me. Again.”

Paul shakes his head. “You’re like a dog with a bone, I swear. Why does this matter so much to you?”

TK clenches his mouth shut and looks away. There’s no way he’s going to admit to having had a distant crush on Carlos for a year and managing to spectacularly ruin their first introduction to each other.

“I just don’t want him to have the wrong idea about me. I want to make this right.”

Paul runs a hand over his head and sighs.

“I get the feeling there’s more to it, but I’ll let it go and say good luck. Don’t drive yourself crazy over this, alright? Though,” he says, gesturing to the flyer in TK’s hands, “I think you might have already crossed that bridge.”

~*~*~

The modeling call can only be described as a total bust. The few people who have stopped by have been questionable at best and Carlos has to wonder if the universe has been screaming a warning to him these last few weeks that he’s just been too stubborn to listen to.

Carlos is ready to call it quits when the door to the art room opens. A guy with a lean build enters, his face turned away as he looks back at the door as it closes behind him.

For one shining moment, Carlos feels hopeful but the moment it seems to register who has just entered, the feeling vanishes. In its place now is irritation as TK Strand comes walking over to him, a determined look in his eyes.

“What is going on? Why are you here right now? How are you here right now?” Carlos asks.

TK holds up his hands; in one of his hands is a flyer. Carlos clenches jaw, his shoulders stiffening.

“Give me just one minute, alright? I know you and I got off on the wrong foot,” TK says quickly.

Carlos raises a brow.

“Okay, I messed up right out of the gate. I get that and I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hate me.”

That last sentence strikes Carlos most of all. In the grand scheme of things, he can’t imagine why his perspective on TK should carry any weight in his eyes. This is now the third time TK has offered to smooth things over after his comments at the student showcase.

“Everyone on campus basically worships you. I think you can survive one guy you don’t even know not being a fan.”

“I just want us to be okay because yeah, alright, you may never speak to me again, but I don’t want you having a bad impression of me. But you’ve obviously made your mind up already. I need you to know it wasn’t personal against your work. I felt that way about everyone’s stuff.”

TK searches his eyes pleadingly; it’s clear this is gnawing at him. To be fair, Carlos has far bigger issues to focus on than keeping this ridiculous fight or misunderstanding going.

“You’re sorry. I get it. Thank you for apologizing, okay? You don’t have to keep doing it. It’s fine, alright? I mean it. Seriously.”

TK doesn’t look so sure, but he nods and takes a breath.

“Cool.” He rocks in place for a moment, looking at the walls.

Something appears to catch his eye. Carlos watches him as he walks past and heads towards the far side of the room. He stops right in front of a piece Carlos did at the start of term.

“This is amazing,” he says quietly.

Carlos comes closer to stand beside him.

“Thanks.”

TK turns to look at him again.

“You did this?”

Carlos nods and looks at the piece. He’d give anything to repeat that level of work now.

“It feels like you. I should have known,” he says with a small laugh.

Carlos isn’t sure what to make of that comment. It’s the polar opposite of what TK had to say just the other day at the showcase. But Carlos knows the image in front of him came from a different place, outside of the fog he’s been dwelling in for weeks.

“Maybe you do know a thing or two about art after all.”

TK turns and smiles at him and the way his head is angled towards him, it makes Carlos’ fingers itch to sketch out his sharp jawline. He looks away then and back at his old piece.

“How’s the search been so far today?” TK asks unexpectedly.

Carlos lets out a resigned sigh, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Not well,” he admits.

TK bites back on his lower lip, his eyes flitting between Carlos and his art piece.

“What if I could help with that?”

Carlos shifts and crosses his arms over his chest, intrigued in spite of himself. His desperation must truly be at an all-time high for his interest to be piqued like this.

He drops his arms to his sides and stands up a bit straighter.

“I’m listening.”

~*~*~

TK pops his head through the door of the art room and finds Carlos setting up a large sketchpad on an easel.

It’d taken some convincing, but when they’d spoken two days ago and Carlos reluctantly lowered his guard, TK managed to make a case for himself and offered to sit in for Carlos. It was easy enough to do with Carlos confessing to him that he didn’t have any real takers. It was a win by default, but TK has never been picky with such things.

He takes a look at Carlos now, clad in a denim jacket and gray shirt, dark jeans fitting him snugly. There’s always such an effortlessness to him that TK finds far too appealing for his own good.

He clears his throat to announce himself. Carlos glances over in his direction and waves a bit awkwardly. TK can tell he’s still unsure about this.

“You can take a seat right up there,” Carlos says, gesturing to a quasi-stage. In the center is a high metal stool.

TK does as he’s told and sits on it.

“Shirt on or off? I’m definitely not above nudity, for the record. In case you wanted to fully commit,” TK says, wiggling his brows.

Carlos rolls his eyes, a gesture TK has learned to simply accept as second nature for Carlos at this point, as far as TK is concerned. Carlos gets up and takes off his jacket before walking over to him. TK can’t help but to admire Carlos’ arms.

He snaps his attention to his face instead as Carlos tucks a hand under his chin and angles his head slightly to the left. His touch effectively silences TK for the moment. Carlos tilts TK’s head a bit more, brows furrowing. TK isn’t sure what he’s aiming for exactly here but so long as Carlos keeps touching him, TK won’t complain.

He thinks he speaks too soon because Carlos lowers his hand and returns to his stool and easel.

“Keep it on. I’m just studying your face today.”

“Hope you enjoy the view,” TK says with a wink.

“This whole process works a lot better if you sit still and be quiet,” Carlos says, picking up his pencil. “It’s actually the only real requirement.”

TK snaps his fingers and slouches.

“Damn, I should have read the fine print on your flyer then. I must have missed that part.”

Carlos lets out an exasperated sigh and tosses the pencil in his hand to the easel’s tray. He peers over the side of his easel, his face the picture of annoyance and TK knows he’s gone too far with his teasing.

“If you aren’t going to take this seriously, why did you bother pushing for me to agree to this at all?”

TK shakes his head, annoyed too at constantly being admonished like a child by him. He holds up his hands in mock defense.

“Lighten up. It was just a joke.”

“I’ll laugh when it’s funny,” Carlos deadpans. He shakes his head. “You completely lost the position. The lighting isn’t right on your face now.”

He rises from his stool and paces for a moment, his shoulders tense.

“I think we should just call it.”

TK stands up too at this, ditching his own stool and getting down off the platform.

“Dude, are you serious right now? We didn’t even start. I’ll chill out. I didn’t realize it was that big of a deal to you.”

He should have, he knows. But Carlos seems so bent out of shape over this that TK just wants him to relax. It’s obvious though that Carlos is genuinely stressing out and for the life of him, TK can’t fully understand why.

Carlos stuffs his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and pulls in a deep breath. TK’s eyes drift to his chest as it puffs up, his shirt stretching even tighter across his chest, and back to his face quickly as Carlos speaks. Carlos’ gaze lowers and TK can see all the fight is out of him now.

“I’m sorry. It’s not even really you that’s the problem. I’m having a block,” he says, tapping his temple. “I have been for a few weeks now and it’s kind of messing with me. I probably wouldn’t have managed much today anyway so it’s fine.”

TK’s mouth twists to the side a bit. At least now he knows what’s at the core of Carlos’ persisting bad mood.

“Maybe you need to get out of your head a little bit? Do something different and get inspired that way?”

Carlos frowns.

“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I’ll try again tomorrow on my own. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Carlos still looks far too preoccupied for his taste. He can easily picture Carlos retreating to his place and giving this bad mood more room and time to grow.

“Do you want to hang out?” TK asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can do something to take your mind off it.”

Carlos eyes his warily like he doesn’t trust the offer. TK tries not to be offended by the skepticism.

“Hang out?” Carlos echoes.

TK rolls his eyes.

“Yes, hang out. It’s this chill thing people do from time to time in which they relax and spend time together. Crazy concept, but I think you might enjoy it,” TK teases.

Carlos tries to bite back a smile, but TK can see it nonetheless, the way his eyes soften with each passing second and his cheekbones rise.

“You’re really gunning for us to be friends here, aren’t you?”

TK unfurls his arms and puts a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, giving it a squeeze. It’s pure hard muscle yet somehow soft.

“I’ll win you over eventually. Just you wait. You’ll see I can be very charming.”

~*~*~

The problem, Carlos knows, is that there was never any actual doubt that TK could be charming. The issue is just how effortlessly he’s able to wiggle past Carlos’ defenses.

As they walk alongside each other on their way to the diner off campus, TK talks his ear off about the most random things and Carlos finds himself hanging on to every word of it. TK makes for good company and Carlos can’t deny the fact that he’s already feeling himself relaxing the further they get away from campus.

They reach the diner and TK secures them a booth right by the wall length window. According to him, sitting in one is half the fun of going to a diner. Carlos agrees and pours over the menu in front of him, the two of them placing their order for burgers and shakes.

TK waits until the waitress is gone before sitting forward a bit and grinning.

“Having fun yet?” TK asks.

Carlos playfully rolls his eyes.

“Haven't decided yet. Maybe I’ll have a blast when our food gets here. I’m pretty hungry.”

TK rolls his eyes in return at this but laughs.

“I am having a good time though, seriously. Thanks for suggesting this. Sometimes I get a little too wound up when I’m working on projects.”

“No kidding,” TK snorts. “Thanks for agreeing. I know you still have your doubts about me.”

Something twinges inside of Carlos’ gut at this, but before he can think too hard on it, there’s a knock on the window beside them. They both turn at the sound and Carlos sees a guy giving TK a small wave which he reciprocates almost timidly.

The guy’s smile is a little unsure and he looks away from TK to Carlos briefly before walking away. Carlos isn’t sure what to make of the guy’s expression, but TK’s body language changes a bit as he looks after him. TK visibly shakes himself and refocuses on Carlos.

“Who was that?” Carlos asks, unable to ward off his curiosity.

Their waitress returns with their meals and TK shifts a little in his seat as he picks up a fry and dips it into his shake.

“Alex. We dated last year. Things got...kind of messy. He cheated on me and I didn’t handle it well. At all. But we’re alright now, I guess.”

Carlos looks over his shoulder, but Alex is long gone. He hadn’t really pegged TK for the serious type. Now that Carlos thinks about it, he doesn’t know what he’s truly basing that off of exactly. On occasion he’d see TK with guys, but truthfully, he didn’t know what their connection to each other was.

“I hadn’t realized you dated,” he admits.

TK shrugs. “Not so much any more. That whole thing kind of soured the experience. How about you though? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone before.”

Carlos pauses mid-bite on his burger.

“You’ve seen me around before?”

TK’s cheeks redden slightly.

“Here and there. You’re mostly always reading or sketching though or spending time with your friend.”

“Grace,” Carlos says fondly. “But, I mean, yeah. I guess my time is split between those things or spending time in the studio. Dating isn’t really on my radar.”

“Why not?”

Carlos looks at him and shrugs a shoulder.

“I don’t like being casual and that’s all anyone is really looking for on campus. Besides, lately I’ve been liking the free time and not having any distractions.”

TK purses his lips together like he’s holding back a comment.

“What?” Carlos prompts.

TK shakes his head and picks at his food a bit.

“Nothing. It’s just—I wonder if that’s part of the reason why you’re going through a block right now.”

Carlos bristles slightly at this.

“And how do you figure that?”

TK takes a second, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Doesn’t art imitate life? If you’re stuck doing the same things over and over, going to the same places, seeing the same people, feeling the same things, well, it’s no wonder you aren’t feeling particularly inspired.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that Carlos feels a bit foolish for not making the connection sooner.

He sits back against the booth and mulls over TK’s words.

“I feel so out of practice with putting myself out there, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

TK takes a sip of his drink and smiles.

“You’ve got a lot going for you. I don’t think you’ll have much trouble at all finding someone. I have a hard time picturing anyone turning you down.”

Carlos snorts out a laugh.

“You’d be surprised then. Like I said, commitment seems to be the number one killer. Guys here don’t really go for that and I don’t want meaningless hookups.”

TK stares at him and Carlos thinks perhaps he’s overshared.

“I think that’s pretty cool of you,” TK says. “You aren’t settling.”

Carlos isn’t sure how to respond to that, especially with TK still looking at him like he’s trying to make his mind up about something.

TK drums his fingers against the tabletop, pulling his gaze away from Carlos and to their waitress passing by.

“Excuse me, Miss? Hi, when you get a chance, can we please have two sets of your finest children’s crayons and placemats? Thank you so much.”

The waitress smiles at the ridiculous request but, living up to his last words in the studio, his charm has clearly won this young lady over. Carlos refuses to say it aloud, but it’s working on him too.

“Coming right up,” she says.

She returns a few moments later and TK thanks her one more time as she sets the crayons and papers down.

Carlos eyes the haul, confused as to what TK is playing at. The boxes of crayons only have about four inside judging by the size of them. TK picks up one of them and dumps the contents on the table before doing the same with the other.

“I want you to make something. Don’t think about it. Just draw,” TK instructs, pushing one of the paper placemats in front of Carlos.

“Are you really giving me a creative exercise right now? My professor would be so proud of you.”

TK grins at this and gets started on his own creation. His excitement is palpable, almost kid-like and free in a way Carlos can admit he hasn’t let himself be when it comes to creating for weeks now. It’s practically contagious and Carlos can feel himself letting go and getting swept up in the frenzy.

“Five minutes, starting now,” is all TK says.

Carlos shakes his head and picks up a crayon and gets started too. They work for a few minutes in silence, just the scratches of crayons on paper and the slight jostling of utensils as they each pour over their respective pages.

“Alright, time,” TK says, setting his crayon down.

Carlos adds two quick strokes before putting his crayon aside as well.

“Let’s see it then,” he says to TK who proudly holds up his picture and hands it over to him.

Carlos bursts out laughing at the stick figures of what he assumes must be him and TK seated across from each other now. One figure has green dots for eyes, the other brown. TK’s drawing looks more or less like what a kindergartner would dream up.

“Hey, no laughing. That’s so mean,” TK whines, nudging Carlos’ leg under the table. “Not everyone at this table majors in art, you know.”

Carlos bites back on his lower lip and smiles around it, ignoring the slight tingle he feels in his leg.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was expecting but this wasn’t it. It’s...it’s beautiful. Truly.”

“You’re right. It’s a goddamn masterpiece, thank you,” TK says, looking it over. “Let me see yours.”

Carlos slides his paper across the table, feeling much better about his artwork now that he’s seen TK’s rudimentary piece. With the limited colors, Carlos opted to draw stained glass panels.

“Whoa.” TK looks up at him. “See what you were able to do in just five minutes? Your muse is still in there somewhere. You just need to keep tapping into it.”

Carlos smiles in spite of himself. This exercise, however silly, has served as a reminder of just how much fun he can have when he isn’t taking things so seriously. It’s mind-blowing to think that TK of all people is the one to awaken this in him.

He sighs softly and offers TK his paper back, but the young man shakes his head.

“We’re trading. You can say you have a Strand original. No one else in the world has one of those.”

“I’ll cherish it forever,” Carlos jokes, but the bright smile he earns from TK and the way it makes his own stomach flutter feels serious.

~*~*~

Though he’s gone to school here in Texas for the last three years, TK doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to just how humid it is. Summers in New York are gross, but it’s nothing in comparison to life under a Texas sun.

All the same, TK finds the chatter indoors on campus to be too distracting for his mission to finish up the reading for his English class. Heading back to the frat house filled with his rowdy brothers would be no good either.

TK finds the first available table he can secure in the shade and hunkers down with the novel and his notebook to jot down his thoughts.

He loses himself in the text, so much so that he’s caught completely off guard by the voice close to him that suddenly speaks.

“Mind if I join you?”

TK looks up, a bit stunned to see Carlos, but pleasantly surprised nonetheless.

He’s got a sketch pad tucked under one of his exposed arms. TK’s eyes track the veins that carve their way along Carlos’ forearm before forcing his gaze away.

“Not at all. Please,” he says, gesturing to the seat across from him.

Carlos sets his sketch pad down and settles in,  drumming his fingers on the table.

“I’m glad I ran into you. I was thinking, maybe we could work on setting up some times to meet. I’m not sure what your schedule is looking like these days between final projects and exams, but I’m hoping to cram in as many sessions as we can, so, I apologize in advance if I’m asking too much or cutting into your time. I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on too. But I really do appreciate you helping me out,” Carlos says.

He pauses for a moment, a crease forming between his brows. It’s a telltale sign that whatever he’s going to say next is serious.

“I know I wasn’t…the warmest to you in the beginning. I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have held onto it, especially after you apologized. Multiple times.”

TK blinks twice, his brows lifting. The ice between them had certainly melted away at the diner the other day. TK has long since moved past their initial introduction.

“It’s all good. And honestly, this is no trouble. I’m just glad I can somehow help. We’ll get you through that block.”

Carlos lets out a breath and ruffles his curls. “I sure hope so.”

TK smiles reassuringly and picks up his pen again. He props his right arm on the table and places his hand on his cheek as he stares back down at the pages, rereading the last of the notes he jotted down.

“Would it be cool if I did a quick drawing now?”

He peers over at Carlos, rolling his pen between his fingers.

“It’s so hot today. You sure you aren’t ready for me to go shirtless yet?”

Carlos raises a brow in warning, but TK can tell there’s no anger behind it like the last time.

“That’s still a no from me,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes. “Just don’t move this time, okay?”

TK continues to look at him and doesn’t even dare to nod.

Across from him, Carlos opens his sketch pad to a fresh page and begins working on a rough line of him.

TK’s mind floods with a thousand questions he wants to ask Carlos, from the most mundane to the most profound. But he keeps quiet as promised, not wanting to throw off the apparent rhythm Carlos is finding now.

Instead, he stays in place and takes advantage of this time to study Carlos in the way the young man is doing to him. It’s a wonder, TK thinks, that Carlos doesn’t just get a mirror and reference his own reflection for something inspiring to draw.

Just as he thought the first time he saw Carlos out on the quad last year, he is without question the most beautiful guy he’s ever seen in his life. Warm brown eyes, perfect full lips, a strong jawline, and that small crease between his brows as he concentrates making a reappearance, it’s impossible for TK not to fixate on it all. It makes his heart ache to look at him, even more so to think it’s all so futile.

“Are you alright?” Carlos asks, taking TK out of his head for a moment.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

Carlos breaks and flexes out his hand as he shrugs.

“I don’t know. Something in your eyes changed.”

TK can feel his face flush a bit in embarrassment.

“Oh. Must have zoned out. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Just thought I’d ask.”

There’s no more discussion after that; Carlos resumes drawing and TK does his best to keep his emotions in check. If Carlos looks too closely, he’s bound to know the truth before TK is ready to share it.

Carlos finishes up not too long after and rips the page from his sketchpad before handing it over to TK.

It’s a bit trippy seeing his likeness on the page, but Carlos has done a good job of translating him in this quick sketch.

“What do you think?” Carlos asks after a moment.

“You nailed me. It! You nailed it. The picture, it…god, you know what I mean,” he stammers.

One day he will learn how to speak to Carlos without putting his foot in his mouth.

Carlos’ laugh is rich and seems to fill up every inch of TK’s heart, making it swell in his chest.

“I get it. I’m glad you like it.” Carlos’ smile is private as he looks at the drawing. “First thing in weeks I’m actually proud of.”

“Looks like you’re already coming out of that fog,” TK says.

Carlos’ eyes land on him at once and search his face.

“Maybe you’re turning out to be my good luck charm.”

~*~*~

Sessions with TK are turning out to be highlights in Carlos’ day, despite his best efforts not to get too attached to them. With each one, however, Carlos finds himself feeling more comfortable and settled into his art and he knows that’s due largely in part—or solely—to TK’s credit. TK’s easy-going nature perfectly balances out Carlos’ tendency to overthink and worry. Where sessions inside the studio had once come to feel daunting and frustrating, Carlos now feels optimistic about the kind of work he’s been producing.

It’s been two weeks and already Carlos is seeing improvements, not just in the art he’s making but his outlook overall in tackling his final portfolio.

As usual, he gets to the art room early. TK comes in a few minutes late, a sheen of his sweat on his forehead.

“Sorry I’m late. I got held up with the guys,” he says.

Carlos is about to tell him not to worry when TK leans over to set his bag down, his shirt riding up just a bit to reveal an inch or two of skin. It’s hardly anything obscene and yet it inexplicably quickens the flow of Carlos’ blood.

His eyes flit away and to his empty page but it does little to nothing in curbing the drop of curiosity that’s now bleeding through his thoughts.

“Were you actually being serious when you joked a few times about posing shirtless?”

The question is out of his mouth before Carlos’ has fully conceived of the thought. He has no doubt his face must look as surprised as TK’s right now.

“Are you messing with me?”

Carlos doesn’t see a way of backing out of this now. And, admittedly, he is curious to see where this will lead.

He shakes his head. “No. I…I think we could do at least one with more of your form. But if you aren’t actually comfortable with that–”

TK holds up a hand before pulling his shirt off and tossing it carelessly to the ground.

“How do you want me?”

In the worst way, Carlos thinks as his eyes rake over TK’s chest, flat stomach, and the light dusting of hairs that lead to something Carlos certainly shouldn’t be thinking about.

“Um, standing would be great. Maybe a hand in your pocket, arm curved a bit to get some depth,” he suggests.

TK follows his instruction, completely unself conscious, standing half naked. Something in his eyes shines with such confidence, it leaves Carlos in awe.

He studies TK for a moment. It’s hardly anything new given just how much time they’ve been spending together with Carlos drawing him but it feels different this time, as if he’s truly seeing through to the heart of him.

He realizes perhaps a beat too late that he’s essentially been staring. He coughs once before picking up a bit of charcoal and setting it to the page. It’s much easier now to channel his thoughts. Now it feels far more objective to be taking notice of just how lean yet toned TK’s build is.

For the sake of the piece, he has to notice these details, the dip in TK’s hip where the waistband of his jeans hits him just so, the surprising constellation of birthmarks that sprinkle his torso. It’s his duty now to capture it all.

He takes it all in, a keen eye meticulously mirroring everything he sees. He’s lucked out big time in winding up with TK as his model. For as much as he was reluctant in the beginning, Carlos is glad that he caved. There’s so much to work with here.

TK is patient and manages to stay put, no quips or wise cracking as Carlos finishes up. Carlos takes one last look at his drawing and looks back at TK, more than satisfied with the end result. He nods at TK, giving him the all clear to relax his stance.

TK smiles as he comes over and stands beside him. Carlos’ body goes perfectly still, his eyes trained forward. It’s ridiculous at best, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel slightly flustered being this close to TK in such a state.

“At the risk of sounding totally conceited,” TK says, amusement coloring his tone, “I think you’ve really outdone yourself here. You made me look good.”

Carlos looks up at him then, bites back the urge to say he can hardly take credit for that. TK’s still focused on the image before him for a moment, giving Carlos the perfect view of his profile until he turns his attention on him, his green eyes slightly mischievous and his smile all too inviting.

Carlos blinks and looks away, snuffing out the feeling bubbling up inside of him. He refuses to give it enough air to breathe, to let this thing grow into something he can’t control.

~*~*~

TK fires off a quick text to his frat’s group chat as he heads out of his last lecture of the day. With the fraternity’s upcoming party, the guys are even more active than usual, so much so that TK had to silence his phone during class.

As he walks the grounds, catching up on all that he’s missed, he looks up and spots something that stops him dead in his tracks.

Sprawled out on a navy blue sheet is Carlos, his head resting against a backpack like a makeshift pillow. He isn’t alone; unsurprisingly, Carlos is accompanied by Grace who says something that makes Carlos laugh so much, his whole body shakes with it. The sound carries over to TK and calls to him like a siren song.

TK hikes his bag further up his shoulder and makes a beeline for the pair of them, sidestepping other students soaking up the sun and lounging about in between classes.

“Hey, Carlos,” he says once he’s near enough.

Carlos sits up immediately and turns at the sound of his name. His face goes from startled to warm in an instance and TK is just thrilled they’ve reached this point with each other now.

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good. I was just passing through and saw you.”

Carlos’ smile grows. “Well, I’m glad you decided to come over. It’s nice to see you.”

Grace clears her throat and Carlos’ nose scrunches adorably at the not-so subtle reprimand.

“TK, this is Grace. Grace, this is TK.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” TK says sincerely. Grace is such a fixture in Carlos’ life from what he can see, it feels good to finally interact with her.

“You too. You’re spending almost as much time with this one as me these days,” she replies, poking Carlos’ leg.

“Well, he hasn’t got rid of me yet so that’s reassuring.”

She makes a noncommittal sound as she smiles.

“I don’t suspect he would. From what I hear, you’re something of a lifesaver with these sessions you guys have.”

TK’s brow quirks involuntarily as he wonders at what else Carlos has been saying about him to her. He glances quickly at Carlos, but Carlos appears to have taken a sudden interest in toying with the edge of the sheet.

“I’ve been liking them a lot too. Sitting still isn’t exactly my forte, but Carlos is good at reining me in,” he muses.

Grace laughs and gestures for him to take a seat. TK drops his bag first and settles on the ground beside Carlos. There’s a warmth to Grace that makes TK feel as if he knows her; he can already see why Carlos is so fond of her.

She chats him up about his day and asks him a few questions about himself that he gladly supplies answers to. Every now and then Carlos chimes in, but he’s mostly quiet, seemingly observing. TK is struck most of all by how much he feels like he actually fits in with them. It makes him feel bold enough to get them all together again soon.

“My frat is throwing a party this Friday, if you guys are interested,” he says. “I’d really like for you to come if you can.”

“I’ve been here for three years and I’ve never once been to a frat party,” Carlos laughs.

TK holds his tongue in saying that he’s noticed.

“All the more reason for you to drop by then. It’ll be a lot of fun. Music, drinks, ridiculous games. Me.” TK falters for a moment. “Not sure how much of a selling point that last one is but still.”

Grace sits up and smiles.

“I sure could do with a night out and I know Carlos could too.”

Carlos shoots her a look that TK can’t fully decipher and the two of them appear to have a wordless conversation before Grace turns to TK, an even larger smile on her face.

“We’ll both be there. Thank you so much for the invite.”

Beside him, Carlos pouts a bit and TK can’t help but to find it impossibly endearing.

“Yeah, of course. You’re always welcome to come by anytime…for parties or otherwise,” he says, looking between the two of them, his eyes settling on Carlos.

TK clears his throat and focuses on safer territory: Grace.

“Um, anyway. I’ve got a few assignments I need to work on. I just wanted to come over and say hi. I’ll send you the details. See you guys soon,”  he says as he rises from the ground and puts on his bag.

“Tomorrow for me,” Carlos says, catching TK off guard. “If you’re free that is. I was hoping maybe we could squeeze in one more session before the weekend. But if you have to get things together for the party, I’d under—,”

“No. I mean, no to not being free.” TK shakes his head before trying again. “What I mean is, I doubt the guys really need me for much. They’ve thrown plenty of these parties. I think they can more than fend for themselves. Just text me and I’ll be there.”

Carlos searches his eyes for a moment and TK does his best not to squirm under his watchful eye. Carlos’ face betrays nothing of his thoughts and it makes TK all the more curious to know what he may be thinking. It feels like a lifetime passes before Carlos speaks again.

“Great. I’ll keep you posted.”

TK nods once and looks away, almost startled to see Grace still there and looking right at him. Her expression is much easier to read and it tells TK she’s picking up on something he’d rather her not notice.

He feels his face warm up slightly, and feigns wiping at his forehead to play it off as if he’s just hot from afternoon sun glaring down on them.

“Cool. I really should get going, but have a good day, you guys and…I’ll see you both around. It was great meeting you, Grace.”

The two say their goodbyes to him and TK turns, heading back the way he came with an undeniable pep in his step.

~*~*~

It feels like a scene out of the countless movies set at colleges, frat houses lining the streets, drunken people spilling out onto the yards. Inside is decidedly worse. Inside the belly of the beast with loud music and bodies of strangers pressed in against him, Carlos decides his long-standing theory that he would hate frat parties is proven correct to an alarming degree.

It’s easier to digest it all with Grace beside him, but that company is short lived as Grace gets a text from her boyfriend Judd who has locked himself out of his place.

“I’ll go with you,” Carlos offers.

“This is hardly a two person job. Besides, you haven’t seen TK yet. You should stay and find him, let him know you showed up. He invited you.”

“He invited us.”

Grace’s head tips to the side, a light laugh leaving her.

“Oh, honey,” is all she says as she pats his arm. “Promise me you’ll stay and enjoy yourself. At least for a little bit. I don’t want you scurrying back to your apartment and wasting a perfectly good Friday night.”

Carlos groans but nods, giving Grace a hug before she weaves through the crowd. Without her now, Carlos feels wholly unprepared to navigate the scene before him.

He heads for the stairs, avoiding a trio of girls chatting loudly amongst themselves and a couple making out on the landing. It’s too much all at once with music blaring and everyone shouting over the beats to be heard.

He seeks out the first unlocked and unoccupied room he can find upstairs. After a few tries, he lets himself into a bedroom at the end of the hall.

Carlos looks around as he steps further in. There’s a subway map of New York City on one of the walls. On the desk, Carlos sees a picture of TK standing in the middle of a man and woman that he’s the perfect mix of. It’s a snapshot of graduation day in high school, TK proudly holding up his diploma.

Carlos smiles to himself as he picks up the frame for a closer look and for a moment, tries to picture what it might’ve been like to know TK at this time.

He startles at the sound of the doorknob, his head snapping in time to see the door open, TK in the present staring at him in surprise.

“Carlos. You made it.”

Carlos offers up an awkward half smile, feeling more out of place now than he did downstairs. TK looks him over.

“What…what are you doing in here?”

“Sorry. I just needed a minute. I didn’t know this was your room at first,” he says, setting the picture back down and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

TK steps inside and closes the door.

“That’s okay; I don’t mind. I—are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Grace headed out to see her boyfriend and I'm apparently really not good at parties by myself. I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that’s not completely true. You know me.”

Carlos smiles a bit.

“Yes, that’s true. But you should be down there mingling. You shouldn’t have to babysit me now. So I’ll just go and let you get back to it. I did have a good time tonight though,” he says politely. “Thanks for inviting me and Grace. I can check this off my college bingo card. Goodnight, TK.”

“Wait,” TK says, grabbing a hold of his wrist lightly as he walks past. “Can’t you just stay here with me? These parties are a dime dozen. We could watch a movie or something up here instead. Please?”

Carlos’ brows furrow. TK seems so serious, nervous even like he’s scared Carlos will just fly away. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything as he nods, thrilled at the concept of carving out alone time in the midst of it all.

“Okay, yeah. We can do that.”

TK smiles in what looks like relief. It’s only then that he lets go and Carlos’ skin feels cold at once without his touch.

“You can pick. I’ll go grab us some food from downstairs. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

TK backs out of the room and Carlos stands for a moment just looking at the door. The impossibilities of tonight just seem to keep coming. Carlos turns away then and looks back to TK’s laptop perched on his bed.

Carlos kicks off his shoes, lines them up at the foot of TK’s bed before climbing inside. It feels both foreign and familiar to be in TK’s bed. His scent is everywhere and it strikes Carlos just how much he’s subconsciously grown to love the smell.

He shakes his head, pushing that thought from mind. He reaches for TK’s laptop instead, bringing it closer as he waits for TK to return. He does a few minutes later, armed with a bag of popcorn and drinks cradled in his arms.

Carlos jumps to help him, alleviating half of his finds. He takes TK’s lead and settles onto the bed once more. It’s even more surreal now having TK beside him.

He keeps himself busy, grabbing a drink for himself.

“Do you want one?” Carlos asks, holding out a beer to him.

TK shakes his head.

“No, I don’t drink.”

Carlos cocks a brow teasingly.

“A frat boy who doesn’t drink. You’re a rare breed.”

Something changes in TK’s eyes and Carlos knows instantly that he’s misstepped severely here.

“I got into some stuff in high school…had a setback not too long ago, but I’ve been good for a year now.”

The full gravity of what that means hits Carlos.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything but…for what it’s worth, that’s pretty amazing. A whole year. Congrats.”

TK genuinely smiles at this. “Thanks. Nights like these are fun, but they can also be tempting sometimes.”

Carlos bites back on his lower lip for a second.

“Why do you come to the parties then?”

TK pauses for a moment and considers the question.

“I guess I like the distraction.”

“From what?” Carlos knows he shouldn’t pry, but his curiosity is piqued and this is the most earnest he’s ever seen TK be.

TK takes another pause, but his eyes quickly find Carlos’ as he answers.

“Feeling alone. Being alone.”

TK lets out an airy laugh as he stretches out his arms and flops back against the pillows.

“God, that sounds horribly depressing and pathetic, doesn’t it? Wow,” he says to the ceiling.

Carlos reaches for his hand before he can fully think about what he’s doing. TK turns his head to look at him then.

“Sounds pretty human to me.” Carlos holds his gaze for a moment, his heart beating a little bit faster now that he’s got TK’s full attention.

Outside of positioning TK during their sessions, he’s never really touched him like this before. He loses his nerve easily and lets go.

“At least for tonight you’re not alone. You have me. Not sure if it counts for anything, but—”

“It means more than you know,” TK cuts in. “It means everything.”

Carlos isn’t sure what to say to this, but luckily TK doesn’t give him room to try and offer up a response.

“So, what will it be, huh?” TK asks, pulling the laptop closer. “Comedy, action, your choice.”

TK’s ability to pivot so easily makes Carlos’ head spin.

There’s so much more below the surface when it comes to TK, a multitude of hidden depths. Carlos wants to explore it all.

~*~*~

TK takes the steps two at a time as he heads down the stairs of the frat house.

The ground and surfaces are littered with trash from last night, but TK is in such high spirits that the impending post-party cleanup does nothing to dampen his mood.

He greets his brothers before beelining for Paul who is cleaning off a mirror covered in lipstick-written scrawls.

“Morning,” he practically chimes, grabbing a washcloth of his own.

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

“Someone’s in a great mood,” he corrects.

Paul’s eyes narrow slightly, calculating.

“You disappeared on us.”

TK shrugs. “I was still here…just up in my room.”

He thinks of how nice it was to come back into his room and find Carlos on his bed, looking as if he belonged there, just an accepted fixture in the room.

Paul raises a brow. “Who was the lucky guy this time?”

“Carlos.”

Paul stops scrubbing at once, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

“Hold up. What? You and Carlos—”

TK shakes his head quickly, holding up his hands.

“Not like that, no. I found him in my room. He’d been feeling, I don’t know, overwhelmed I guess after Grace left and needed a minute to himself. He was going to leave, but I asked him to stay and watch movies with me.”

Paul stares at him for a moment.

“Sooo…you guys basically had a date in the middle of the party.”

TK’s face flushes as he shakes his head.

“It wasn’t a date. We just hung out and talked. It was chill. No big deal.”

Only it certainly felt like a big deal, as if something monumental had shifted between them. TK hadn’t been expecting to get as candid with Carlos as he did last night, but he felt safe to be vulnerable. In all honesty, it felt good to let Carlos in. Easy.

Paul scoffs lightly and rolls his eyes.

“You’re so gone off this guy.”

TK resumes wiping as he tries to collect his thoughts.

Carlos had dozed off midway through the second movie and TK had left him to rest.

By the time Carlos had come to again, face soft from sleep, the credits were rolling. It struck TK, perhaps naively, how much he wished he could wake up to that face.

“Kinda have been for a while now, but it doesn’t matter,” he admits. There’s very little sense in denying what he’s sure has been written on his face this whole time.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He was ready to leave, but he stayed just because you asked him to. You guys really have been spending a ton of time together. I don’t know, it sounds like it could be the beginning of something.”

He wouldn’t know the first thing about molding himself into the shape of a guy worthy of someone like Carlos.

Naturally he’s pictured it, but thinking about something is world’s away from actually having it.

“I don’t want to get my hopes up. We’ve been getting along really well lately, and that can be enough.”

“Considering where you guys started out to where you are now, I’d say that’s an understatement. But I get it. It’s scary putting yourself out there. He seems like a good guy though. If you’re curious to know where his head is at, I’d bet he’d be open about it.”

TK chews on his lower lip.

“In order to find that out, I’d have to tell him what I’m feeling. And I’m just…not there yet.”

Paul nods in understanding.

“At least now you’re upgraded from being his enemy,” he teases. “Anything is better than that.”

~*~*~

As Carlos winds his way through the writing center, he reaches Grace just in time for the end of her current session.

The student she’s with must be a freshman and Carlos has to wonder if he looked that tiny back when he was first starting out.

“I’ll see you next week, okay? Great work today,” Grace says to the student who beams back at her before leaving.

Carlos steps closer, lifting up the tray in his hands that holds two to-go cups and a white paper bag.

Grace makes grabby hands at him and Carlos laughs as he surrenders her English Breakfast tea and madeleines.

She bats her lashes playfully like a cartoon character before thanking him and taking a sip.

“How was the rest of your night? Did you leave right after me or did you actually stay and have some fun with everyone?”

Carlos takes a seat across from her and grabs his coffee.

“Oh, you mean after you ditched me?” he teases. “I stayed. I had fun with TK. We ended up watching movies in his room.”

Grace comically takes a sip of her tea, eyebrow arched.

“Nothing happened,” Carlos says quickly. “He told me a bit more about himself, some personal stuff. It was nice getting to know him better, but that was it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that was it,” she says, “but that’s hardly nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

Grace laughs and shakes her head.

“You’re so smart yet so oblivious. It’d be adorable if it weren’t so frustrating.”

Carlos opens his mouth to ask yet again what she’s getting at but his phone buzzes in his pocket. Putting a pin in their talk, Carlos fishes it out, brows furrowing as he sees TK’s name plastered across the screen.

TK never calls; all their communication is done through texts. It instantly puts Carlos on edge thinking something must be wrong.

“It’s him,” he says aloud to Grace before accepting the call and putting the phone to his ear.

“Hey, how are you?”

There’s a short pause and a light exhale on the other end that knots something in Carlos’ stomach.

“Not too good. I’m sorry. I can’t meet next week. I have to head to New York…family emergency.”

Carlos sits up. He’s never heard TK sound this despondent before.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…no…I’m not really sure. I’m sorry to bail.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Seriously, take all the time you need. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

TK falls silent and it makes Carlos’ unease grow, just wondering what could be happening to make TK this frazzled.

“Thank you.” TK sighs softly and Carlos wishes they were face to face now. “I’ll let you go. I need to pack,” he says. “But seriously, thanks for understanding.”

“Of course. Take care, alright? Call me if you need to.”

TK thanks him one last time and says goodbye before ending the call.

Carlos sets his phone down, his thoughts now focused so heavily on TK.

“Everything okay?” Grace asks gently, looking over at him.

Carlos shakes his head slowly and comes back to himself and the moment. He clears his throat and pockets his phone before reaching for his cup.

“I’m not sure. He just called to cancel for next week. He says he’s heading back to New York because of a family emergency. He didn’t say what happened, but he sounded pretty worried.”

Grace frowns. “I hope it’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, me too. He didn’t seem like himself at all.”

Carlos has seen almost every version of TK but until now, troubled hasn’t been one of them. It makes Carlos himself feel anxious inside. The concern must show on his face because Grace calls it out.

“I didn’t realize you started caring so much about him.”

Carlos shrugs a bit.

“He seemed really out of it. Whatever is going on, it must be pretty serious. I just hope he’s okay.”

Grace smiles as she picks up her cup and sets it to her lips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you guys were actually becoming friends.”

Carlos’ brows furrow as he looks at her. Friends is a heavy word that implies closeness. They have been having breakthroughs since that night at the diner and even more so last night, but Carlos isn’t so quick to go around throwing such a label on things. He’d enjoyed their evening and could tell TK had too but this all still felt far too tentative for concrete titles.

“We have nothing in common.”

“Except for a mutual crush on each other.”

Carlos lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

“I think you’re in need of some fresh air. You’ve been cooped up here all day. It's starting to go to your head,” he says with faux concern.

“I don’t like him in that way and he certainly isn’t into me. I’m not his type.”

Grace looks doubtful and Carlos is certain she won’t be letting this matter go any time soon. It makes Carlos nervous in a way that it shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to stare too closely at the small seed of interest that has settled inside him. To do so would be setting himself up for imminent disappointment.

He’s seen how casual TK is, how little he takes things seriously. If that’s his outlook on most things, it feels safe to guess the same would go for relationships–– especially given what he shared about his ex.

Carlos almost groans now that the idea is growing roots. Now the picture of what dating TK would be like is filling out the corners of his mind. He shakes his head lightly and picks up his cup again, draining the contents for something to do.

“How could you possibly know that?” Grace presses.

“I’ve seen his ex. I’ve seen the people he hangs around. I wouldn’t get along with any of them. It stands to reason that outside of these sessions, TK and I wouldn’t fare well either.”

“Opposites attract, no? You guys are different, sure, but that’s what makes it so much fun. You’ll learn so much more that way.”

She makes a good point but Carlos refuses to allow himself to go there. At best his relationship to TK now is transactional. TK gets to absolve himself of the guilt over his comments at the showcase and Carlos gets to round out his portfolio. Once the semester is over in just a few weeks, he’s willing to bet they’ll go their separate ways and return to a life where they are no longer in each other’s orbits.

Carlos does his best to ignore the sinking feeling that hits him just then.

“He seems nice. And he’s very cute,” Grace tacks on. “You spend all this time drawing him. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Carlos sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Of course I’ve noticed. I noticed the first time I ever saw him.”

Grace perks up at this and smiles.

“But then he opened his mouth at the showcase. And whatever…attraction, however fleeting, it went right out the window.”

Her smile instantly fades.

“That feels like a lifetime ago. He’s apologized several times over and you guys are in a good place now.”

Carlos looks away then, back to his now empty paper cup and picks at the lid with his thumbnail. They really have been carving out a unique dynamic and the more time they spend together, Carlos can feel a difference inside of him. With TK, he’s able to laugh again and get out of his own head. That alone feels like a gift. The last thing Carlos wants to do is go tampering with that, pushing for more if there’s no actual interest on TK’s end.

“I know. But it’s better this way.”

“Better or safer? Those aren’t the same things,” she says.

Carlos looks up at her then. Safer, he thinks. There’s no chance of getting hurt if he doesn’t take the risk at all. If nothing changes, he doesn’t have to open himself up to the inevitability of TK growing bored.

“I think he likes you. I think he has for a while now.”

If Grace’s suspicions are true, Carlos thinks the feelings may be temporary. From the start, TK’s objective has been to earn his forgiveness, to be in good standing with him. It’s a game that will ultimately run its course and once it does, there will be no reason for TK to stay.

At best, they’re on borrowed time and if they in fact come with an expiration date, Carlos doesn’t want to be the reason it ends even earlier.

He clenches his jaw and Grace gives him the most sympathetic look that makes him feel pathetic. He isn’t fooling either one of them here.

“A guy like him could break my heart if I gave him the chance,” he says honestly. He feels lighter from confessing to this already. “I have too much on my plate right now to add dating and feelings into the mix. We’ll work towards friendship and keep it at that.”

Grace purses her lips but doesn’t say anything–– not that she has to. Carlos can tell she doesn’t agree with a word of this, that she would want him to have his best shot of happiness like she’s been able to find with Judd. But Carlos knows that not every story gets a happy ending. The sooner he accepts that fate for himself, the easier it will be when faced with the reality of it.

~*~*~

The best way to describe TK’s thoughts and movements today would be auto-pilot. He can’t exactly remember getting to his classes, but he’s got pages filled in his books with notes from each one with today’s date. He moves through campus in a fog, his thoughts close to two thousand miles away in New York City and on his father he had to leave behind.

The guilt gnaws at him uncomfortably though he knows there isn’t much he can do or is even expected to do. All the same, being at school feels trivial in the grand scheme of things. He feels like a stranger in this place that’s been so familiar to him for years now.

What he needs, he ultimately decides, is some kind of semblance, something that feels safe.

It’s the first fully conscious choice he makes today. At the end of his last lecture, he stuffs his bag with his belongings and journeys from the science building and across campus to the art one.

TK keeps an eye on the art room numbers until he gets to the one Carlos typically sets up shop in. He peeks through the glass, smiling to himself when he spots Carlos alone.

At once, his mind finally quiets.

Carlos is seated at one of the large work tables, his glasses jostling a bit as he rubs at his right eye. TK can only imagine how long he’s been here, no doubt toiling away on the piece in front of him. He has his headphones on, his lips moving soundlessly to the lyrics of whatever song he’s listening to. He doesn’t pick up on the fact that TK has now entered the room.

It gives TK the chance to study him for a moment as he begins sketching again. His brows narrow to a point as he works. It’s obvious, even from a distance, just how much care Carlos is putting into the piece.

TK takes another step but manages to break the silence in the room, his leg bumping against a stool.

Carlos jumps a bit in his seat and takes off his headphones. TK can hear the tinny sound of instruments just before Carlos pauses his music. He looks a little flustered as if TK has caught him doing something embarrassing. Before TK can apologize for the intrusion, Carlos is greeting him with a tentative smile and speaking.

“TK. I didn’t realize you were back.”

TK adjusts the strap on his shoulder and smiles a bit, ignoring the small thrill that runs through him at the sound of his name on Carlos’ tongue.

“Yeah, I got in early this morning. I figured you might still be in here. At least I hoped you were.”

Carlos looks at him and TK can see the concern in his eyes.

“I’m glad you got in safely. Is…is everything alright back home?”

TK looks down at his hands. He’s barely been back in Austin and already TK wishes he could return to New York. It’s where his thoughts have been from the moment he’d gotten the call from his dad a couple of days ago.

TK had been quick to book the first flight he could. It’d brought him immense relief to be by his father’s side over the last few days.

“No, not really,” he mumbles. “My dad got diagnosed with lung cancer.”

Carlos curses softly and gets up. For the faintest of seconds, it looks as if Carlos is about to hug him. TK pushes past the disappointment that washes through him when it doesn’t happen. He and Carlos don’t have that kind of relationship, he knows. He isn’t even sure what he would define their dynamic as these days but friends feels a shade or two off from what they actually are.

“TK, I’m so sorry.”

TK shakes his head. “Thanks. It's the best case scenario though, according to his doctor anyway. My dad is feeling confident so I’m trying to follow his lead on that one and not think about it too much but—,” he sighs. “It’s scary. I’m scared but I don’t want him to see that.”

TK had been terrified but for the sake of his father–– and perhaps his own well-being–– TK has been trying his hardest not to dwell on it or make matters worse by fretting over things that haven’t even happened yet and probably never will.

“I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling, but I hope he gets better soon and that you’ll be okay too. I know this must be really hard for you. That doesn’t even do it justice.”

Carlos is so earnest; TK can see the sincere anguish in his eyes. It makes him feel a little less alone having shared this with someone outside of his family.

“Thanks, that means a lot.” He draws in a breath, the weight of this truly pressing against him now.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d swing by and let you know that I’m back. So, whenever you want to meet up again, we can figure something out.”

TK gives a small wave and turns half way before Carlos touches his arm. TK looks down at the other man’s hand on his bicep and back up to his face. Carlos quickly pulls his hand away. His touch was brief but TK misses the feel of it already.

“Sorry,” Carlos says, clearing his throat.

“It’s okay.”

They stay quiet for a moment, Carlos searching his eyes. TK can’t help but to wonder, as he always does, what Carlos thinks when he looks at him. His gaze is piercing but softens by the second.

“Do you actually want to be alone right now?”

TK almost sighs in relief and shakes his head. What he wants now more than anything is a distraction, something to take him out of his head for however long it can last.

It makes his heart skip a beat to realize Carlos is able to pick up on that.

Carlos nods once and takes a seat again. TK peers over at the picture he’s been drawing, his eyes widening at the image of himself. Carlos’ skills are truly remarkable and TK can barely tear his eyes away from his likeness on the paper.

“It looks incredible.”

Carlos studies the drawing, his lips turning downward into a bit of a frown.

“I don’t know. There’s something off. Tonally. Drawing from memory isn’t the same,” Carlos says with a sigh, raking a hand through his curls. “But it’s a good start though, I think.”

TK closes the space between them a bit more. Closer to Carlos now, he takes in a small breath, Carlos’ cologne making his head swim and his chest ache.

“Maybe you need to get familiar with me firsthand? That way it’ll stick.”

Carlos pulls his gaze away from the drawing of TK to the real thing, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“What exactly are you saying?”

The question comes out quietly, measured, almost like Carlos is too afraid to put much weight behind his words. It feels like a challenge TK suddenly realizes he isn’t ready to accept. If he’s wrong, there’s no undoing putting himself out there in such a bold way.

TK swallows hard and shakes his head.

“I’m not really sure,” he lies, surprising himself for how quickly he’s grown discouraged.

He scratches behind his ear and takes a step away from Carlos, undoing all of his progress from before. Carlos blinks twice at him and holds his gaze.

“Um, on second thought, I’m feeling kind of tired from the flight and classes. I think…I think I’ll finish up some assignments and crash early tonight.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything, just nods slowly and picks up his bit of charcoal again. His face is a bit flushed, the tips of his ears pink.

“Right. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow or whenever is good for you. If you want to talk, I’m here. I hope you know that.”

Carlos reaches for him again and this time, it seems intentional as he touches TK’s wrist. TK prays Carlos doesn’t notice the uptick in his pulse. He can feel sparks just under his skin, like a live wire but he tamps it down, schools his face into what he hopes is a casual expression.

“I do and I appreciate it. I really do.”

This seems to reassure Carlos who smiles softly and gives him a gentle squeeze. TK doesn’t know if he’d rather Carlos not touch him at all or if he wants him to never let go; this contact is downright tortuous.

In the end, Carlos lets his hand slip away, leaving TK with the phantom feeling of his touch and faint smudges on his skin.

“Good. You aren’t alone in this, TK. I want to help any way that I can.”

~*~*~

The moment he’s left alone, Carlos drops his head into his hands and groans. His glasses press uncomfortably back into his face, but he hardly cares about that now. He’s got more pressing things to worry about.

I should have kissed him.

This thought plays on a sick loop in his mind now as the image of TK walking out of the art room circles alongside it. He shouldn't have let him go. The opening was right there, or so it had felt like it was. TK’s wording could have gone either way, but it seemed too foolish to assume he was flirting.

I think he likes you. I think he has for a while now.

Maybe Grace was right and tonight, TK was one step closer to admitting it. Maybe this was it and Carlos had just somehow managed to throw a wrench in that by openly questioning it.

Carlos finally sits up and lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes wandering around the quiet art room before landing on his drawing of TK that, in more ways than one, pales in comparison to the real thing.

Frustration courses through him and for a wild moment, he thinks of scribbling out the image he’s worked so hard on or simply crumpling it up and tossing it away. It feels almost like it’s mocking him now, TK’s eyes staring back at him on the page, intense and uncertain just as they’d been only moments ago.

Carlos calls it quits shortly thereafter, deciding to simply stuff the sheet of paper into his folder and bury it inside his bag.

He puts his headphones back on and queues up music for his walk home. Though the sun has already set, the air still feels uncomfortably warm against his skin. Constricting almost, but Carlos isn’t so sure that isn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. The only thing that’s truly suffocating now are his thoughts, all of them centered solely on a certain guy with stunning green eyes and perfect lips that he absolutely should have kissed.

He considers calling Grace now to get her opinion, but the more he plays it back in his head, he’s not sure if there really is anything to report on. It certainly did sound as if TK was flirting with him and it scares Carlos just how much he wishes that was actually the case. What terrifies him more is if he’s wrong.

He decides against calling her, too fearful of owning up to his cowardice and uncertainty and settles on driving himself mad replaying the entire exchange the whole way over to his apartment.

Carlos kicks off his shoes at the door and locks back, shutting off his music and taking his headphones off. He heads to the bathroom, scrubs his hands clean of the charcoal he’d been working with this evening before taking a shower.

All the while his mind still buzzes with thoughts of TK, even after he’s settled in for the night.

He rolls over in bed and reaches for his phone, the screen telling him it’s just after eleven. He goes to his messages and hesitates as he taps on his thread with TK. Carlos debates whether or not to reach out. TK had mentioned he’d had a long day and would be heading to bed early. He certainly deserved all the rest he could get after the week he’s had.

Carlos pushes the doubt aside. If anything, TK will simply just wake up to his message and there was no harm in that.

Carlos

Just checking in. I hope you’re okay. My offer still stands, if you need someone to talk to.

TK’s reply comes quickly.

TK

i was just about to text you

can i come over?

Carlos bolts upright and stares at his screen. He reads the simple sentences three times, not sure he can trust his own eyes before replying with a yes and sharing his address.

~*~*~

TK doesn’t hesitate as Carlos’ text comes in.

He stuffs his feet into the nearest pair of shoes he can find, caring very little about showing up to Carlos’ place in sweats and t-shirt. He’s wasted enough time.

As he arrives at Carlos’, TK feels anxious—in the best way possible. Being around Carlos always makes him happy and though they left things on a semi-awkward note this evening, TK is just glad to have another chance to see him again so soon.

Maybe now he’ll find the nerve he lost just a few hours ago.

He knocks twice on Carlos’ door and stares straight ahead, his chest tightening a bit in anticipation as he hears the door unlock, Carlos opening it a second later.

TK can’t help the way his eyes travel along Carlos’ impressive frame. He doesn’t think there’s a person on earth who could blame him for it, not with Carlos standing there in a form fitting tank.

The material looks damn near painted on, clinging to every contour of his abdomen and completely putting his strong arms on display.

TK tears his eyes away from Carlos’ body long enough to look at his face. It’s soft at this late hour, made all the more endearing by a loose damp curl that hangs just so over his forehead.

Suddenly his mind fills with ill-advised thoughts of Carlos in the shower. He tucks that into the back of his head. Now isn’t the time, but he can’t make any promises he won’t revisit it later.

He swallows hard and struggles to remember how to speak.

“You were right before. I don’t want to be alone…but I also really don’t want to talk about that stuff with my dad.”

Carlos nods and steps aside to let him in.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re here. I was worried about you.”

TK smiles softly at that as he comes into the apartment. He looks around himself, drinking in his newfound surroundings.

Carlos’ place is more or less what he pictured the apartment of an art major to look like. There are haphazard stacks of art books, novels, and sketch pads crammed into and on top of bookcases. Large empty canvases and an easel lean against the walls. All around are paintings and drawings TK assumes are all done by Carlos himself.

TK stops short of one picture in particular, spotting his own drawing from that night at the diner pinned to the wall.

He looks over his shoulder at Carlos and finds the young man already looking at him.

“You kept it,” he says, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Not only that, you displayed it.”

“Strand originals are rare, or so I’ve been told,” Carlos replies with a casual shrug before breaking out into a smile.

TK bites back on his lip and shakes his head in disbelief. A gesture like that has to mean something.

He gets back to milling about Carlos’ apartment, looking at more of the art that adorns the walls.

“Do you want something to drink? Tea, water, coffee?”

TK glances over at him.

“You’re really big on hospitality, huh?”

Carlos’ cheeks flush a bit. “I just want you to be comfortable here is all.”

“I’m always comfortable with you. Maybe a little too much sometimes,” TK says, moving away from the wall and taking a seat on the couch.

Carlos lingers for a moment before following him over. Rather than sitting beside him, Carlos perches on the coffee table right across from him.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

TK shakes his head. “Never said that it was.”

Carlos’ jaw clenches, the muscle flexing as he pulls in a breath. He runs a hand through his semi-damp curls.

“I don’t know what to make of you sometimes. You confuse me.”

TK sits up, his head tilting slightly.

“Ask me anything then. Maybe I can clear some stuff up for you.”

Carlos looks a bit taken aback by this level of openness. He squares his shoulders and TK can already guess where his thoughts must be now.

“What did you mean earlier? In the art room?”

TK searches Carlos’ eyes and leans in closer to him. He can hear Carlos’ breath catch. TK is tired of second guessing, of thinking at all.

He gently cups Carlos’ face, his own breath faltering now as his thumb brushes lightly against Carlos’ bottom lip.

He leans in slowly, heart pounding fiercely but Carlos doesn’t move away or make any signal that he doesn’t want this to go any further.

“I meant,” TK says softly, “that you should get to know me in a different, more intimate way.”

He lost his nerve earlier. He won’t make the same mistake twice.

“That way, whenever we’re apart again, you’ll know the feel of me, not just the sight. You could pull from a more concrete memory.”

TK licks his lips and strokes the corner of Carlos’ mouth with his thumb again.

“If that’s something you’d want, anyway.”

Carlos’ eyes widen but they flicker with an unmistakable wanting. Carlos closes the space between them at once, one hand gently caressing the nape of TK’s neck. This touch alone sends sparks through TK’s entire body. Carlos has touched him before, but never like this and certainly without this level of intent behind it.

TK braces himself as the small gap between their lips fades entirely. The first press of Carlos’ lips on his makes TK feel dizzy. His eyes close as he embraces it, getting lost in the heady rush of Carlos’ mouth claiming his. TK hands it all over willingly.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach, something molten that seemingly courses through his veins the longer the kiss goes on.

He opens his mouth and it’s as if Carlos had merely been waiting for the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue ensnaring TK’s hungrily. The moan that rips through Carlos makes the hairs on the back of TK’s neck rise.

He’s never been kissed like this before, as if it’s vital to the other person. Carlos kisses him like he’s essential to his well-being just then.

TK lets him have his fill, pulling him in closer still, greedy for every little bit of him that he can get. His hands find their way into Carlos’ hair and clutch firmly to the smooth, slick curls. His body shudders, his fingers tugging gently on Carlos’ strands. It makes a small whimper emit from him and TK relishes in learning all the ways to make him come undone.

Carlos slows down but doesn’t part, his fingers gently combing through his hair. The gesture somehow makes TK’s heart beat even faster.

TK rests his forehead against Carlos’ and pecks his lips one last time as he breathes Carlos in, mind racing. He’s pictured this far too many times than he’d ever admit aloud. Yet still, nothing could have ever prepared him for the reality of it.

“I thought you hated me,” he says, his voice a bit hoarse as his brain comes back online.

Carlos lets out a soft airy laugh and shakes his head.

“More like I’ve been hating how badly I want you. This didn’t seem possible.”

TK pulls back enough to look at him.

“Why in the world would you think that?”

Carlos presses his lips together. His eyes look troubled; it’s obvious he doesn’t want to answer. TK kisses the pinched skin between his brows.

“We don’t have to get into it now,” he says, an echo of the out Carlos gave him when he first walked through the door.

This seems to ease Carlos who nods and finds his lips once more, letting his hand shift to rest gently on TK’s cheek. TK places his hand over Carlos’ as he kisses him back fervently, as Carlos’ tongue skimming across his lips in a plea for entry.

TK grants it to him and would a thousand times over if it means never having to let this go.

~*~*~

Carlos’ eyes flutter open to the warmth of sunlight bathing his face. It’s calm in the way mornings always are for him, but the memory of last night hits him with all the ferocity of an 18-wheeler.

He sits upright quickly and is alarmed by the piercing silence and the fact that he’s alone. He and TK didn’t go far last night, but they’d made it to his bed and kissed until fatigue found them both.

He checks his phone at once, relief flooding him immediately as he sees a series of texts from TK.

TK sorry for cutting out this morning.

trust me, if i could have stayed right there with you, i would have

might have to fight my professor though for scheduling a quiz today or else i’d bail on class

last night was…amazing. that sounds cheesy but it’s true.

can i see you later?

Carlos smiles as he reads over TK’s rambling messages again before writing back.

Carlos

You made the right call in not skipping your quiz. Hope you aced it.

I’d really like to see you, too. Meet you in the studio around 4?

The rest of the day passes slowly in the way time always seems to move when something a person is looking forward to looms.

Carlos anxiously keeps an eye on the door as the time draws nearer for TK to arrive. Ten minutes after four, the door opens and Carlos’ head whips towards the entrance as TK steps in. He takes reassurance in the fact that TK still seems as cheery as his texts did this morning.

“Hey,” Carlos greets, feeling a bit jittery.

TK’s smile is warm and as he leans in to give him a hug, Carlos feels himself relaxing against his body. Being this close to him again so soon just makes what transpired last night all the more vivid.

“I’m glad you wanted to meet up. I think we really need to talk.”

TK’s eyes narrow a bit in what looks like genuine worry.

“Those are never good words to hear,” he says, taking a seat on the tabletop as Carlos sits back down.

Carlos runs a hand through his hair and peers up at him.

“I guess I’m just wondering if you regret last night,” he replies. “The timing...I know you were upset over your dad. Understandably. Maybe kissing me was a distraction at the moment. Things kind of snowballed.”

He bites the corner of his lip and exhales softly through his nose.

“I’d get it if it didn’t actually mean more to you than that. If you just needed to take your mind off everything for a bit.”

TK puts a hand gently on his cheek. It’s so painfully intimate, Carlos can’t bear to meet his gaze anymore.

“Look at me,” TK urges, tucking his hand under Carlos’ chin to guide his eyes upward.

It takes Carlos a few seconds but he searches his face, trying to scan for any sign of discomfort or unease but TK’s eyes are fierce, his voice steady.

“That wasn’t a one off. I don’t want it to be. Whenever I’ve pictured kissing you for the first time, it’s never been on the heels of some major life update. But I don’t regret it. Not for a second. Do you?”

Carlos quickly shakes his head.

“It’s all I’ve been able to think about. If I’m being honest, I think I’ve been wanting that for a while now.”

TK smiles widely at this and something inside of Carlos’ chest aches at the sight of it, knowing that he’s somehow responsible for making him this happy.

“Me too.” TK sighs. “Confession time? I’ve had a crush on you for months. Okay, a year now, actually. So, yeah, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a pretty long time. Not just last night.”

TK reaches for his hand and Carlos laces their fingers together.

“A year?” Carlos repeats. “You didn’t even know me then.”

TK groans. “I know. But I wanted to. So badly. And I’d see you around all the time…I don’t know. I just never worked up the nerve to even say hi.”

Carlos smiles at him, tipping his head to the side.

“Hi.”

TK playfully shoves his shoulder. “Hello,” he says back.

Carlos places both hands on TK’s thighs as he stands up slowly and crowds his space a bit. He can’t help but to feel a little bit smug as TK’s eyes widen and he swallows hard.

Carlos leans in slowly, brushing his nose gently against TK’s before pressing their lips together. TK breathes out softly, a small burst of air against Carlos’ lips before diving back in.

It’s all too easy to lose himself in this kiss, especially as they both grow a bit more daring, hands exploring. Carlos clutches firmly onto TK’s thighs as his hand slips under his shirt and rests on his abs.

TK pulls back enough to look at him, his thumb ghosting just under Carlos’ navel. Until this moment, Carlos can’t say he’d ever realized that spot was a weakness.

Carlos’ jaw clenches as he tries to rein himself in but TK doesn’t let up, no doubt enjoying seeing what his touch does to him. Carlos leans forward, his face burying into the side of TK’s neck. He kisses him once behind the ear.

“Do you have someplace you need to be for the rest of the day?” he asks, his fingertips tracing a trail up TK’s inner thigh.

TK shudders against him and nods twice.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Your bedroom.”

~*~*~

By the time they reach Carlos’ apartment, TK feels about ready to burst out of his skin.

As soon as Carlos lets them inside, TK has him pressed up against the door, his mouth greedily laying claim to Carlos’.

Carlos matches his fervor, placing both hands on either side of TK’s face and keeping him firmly in place as his tongue slides into his mouth.

TK whimpers, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily at Carlos' assuredness, how effortlessly he’s able to take control though he’s the one pinned against the door.

Carlos lets his hands wander, his palms skimming down TK’s shoulder blades and down his back. He holds onto TK’s frame firmly and TK is glad for it. With how lighthearted he feels now being touched and kissed like this, it helps to have something sturdy keeping him on both feet.

Carlos breaks away, his breathing a bit ragged as he tugs on the hem of TK’s shirt before taking it off completely.

This isn’t the first time TK has stood before Carlos shirtless, but the context is completely different, as is the way Carlos is looking at him.

“You can touch me now,” he says, assuming Carlos’ thoughts must be similar to his own.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Carlos’ lips, letting TK know he’s right.

Carlos reaches out with both hands, letting his palms rest flatly against his chest. TK is positive Carlos can feel how wildly his heart is pumping, but he can’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed or bashful about it.

He’s wanted this so desperately for a year now. He’s having a hard enough time even wrapping his head around the fact that this is actually happening.

Carlos’ palms slide further down until his hands drop off at the waistband of his jeans. Carlos hooks an index finger through one of the belt loops and tugs TK toward his bedroom.

TK kisses him softly as soon as they’re through the door, his eyes fluttering shut as he savors the taste of Carlos once again. He cradles the back of his head, fingers grasping a fistful of curls gently. He walks backwards, leading them to the bed. The back of his legs hit against the mattress, the two of them tumbling down softly.

TK doesn’t stop kissing him, even as his lungs begin to burn in protest. Carlos breaks first, his breathing just as heavy. TK takes the small reprieve to look at him and takes stock. Carlos’ usually warm brown eyes are dark with hunger, his mouth red and swollen. He looks absolutely wrecked already and TK is all too eager to break him down some more.

Carlos takes off his shirt, dropping it off the side of the bed as he shifts to straddle him. TK can’t drink in the sight fast enough.

It was hardly difficult to guess the other man had an incredible body, but daydreaming until this point has still left him wholly unprepared.

It’s ironic, TK thinks, that Carlos studies art when he looks like this, like some carving of a god turned to flesh. TK could write novels about Carlos’ pecs alone, never mind the rest of him.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks, breaking TK from his thoughts. “You haven’t said anything in about a minute. That must be a record,” he teases.

TK laughs. “How’s this then? How are you real?”

Carlos’ face and neck flush and it further supports TK’s inquiry. There’s simply no way a guy like this actually exists, but faced with this impossibly lucky scenario, he won’t question it.

He lets his fingers explore the terrain of Carlos’ abdomen shamelessly, the ridges of hard muscle, the smoothness of his skin. He delights in the goosebumps that rise on Carlos’ arms as a result of his touch. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to this effect he has on the other man. TK doesn’t think that’s possible.

Their eager hands quickly remove the rest of their clothes, the process only impeded slightly as they steal kisses in between.

With no barriers between them, TK feels something like a current run beneath his skin having Carlos naked on top of him.

Carlos hovers over him a moment, a feather-light touch of his index finger connecting the dots along his torso before being replaced with his mouth and tongue. TK’s back arches toward the warmth, his toes curling as Carlos maps out a path down to his hip.

TK’s legs spread instinctively. Carlos mutters a curse under his breath as he burrows between TK’s thighs. His kisses and bites are deliberate and teasing. He’s so wound up and leaking, his body craving even more. TK is certain he’s going to combust if Carlos keeps at this rate.

He says as much and earns nothing more than a laugh. Carlos kisses his way back up TK’s body until their mouths are aligned. He runs his hand across TK’s hipbone before brushing his thumb across the head of TK’s cock. TK writhes against the sheets, letting out a choked sound in surprise and quickly melts into Carlos’ touch, his hips snapping forward.

Carlos curses quietly and gets his hand around the both of them, setting a steady pace as he jerks them both off.

Carlos sucks on his neck, hard enough that TK knows it’ll leave a mark. He couldn’t care less. If anything it’d feel like an honor to have the proof of tonight plastered on his skin for the world to see.

With each slide of Carlos’ cock against his own, TK feels his sanity slipping, his thoughts entangling so much he can barely form anything coherent. It’s never felt like this with anyone before. The way they work off each other is unlike anything he could have ever imagined.

“Carlos, I’m—,” he chokes off, unable to finish his sentence as a ripple of pleasure washes through him.

He grips Carlos’ wrist and closes his eyes as he catches his breath. Carlos stills, his soft breaths fanning across TK’s face.

“I want all of you,” Carlos rasps, his forehead resting gently to TK’s.

Somehow this soft press alone feels even more intimate than anything else.

“I’m right here. Have me.”

Carlos kisses the tip of his nose and moves off of him briefly to rummage through his nightstand, returning to him when he’s grabbed what he needs.

TK licks his lips and settles back against the pillows. He watches Carlos coat his fingers and feels his heartbeat ratchet up as Carlos’ hand falls between his legs.

The first brush of Carlos’ fingertips against his rim knocks the breath from TK’s lungs. He bites back on his lower lip as Carlos begins to prep him in earnest, his mouth falling open at the first slide of Carlos’ finger inside him.

His body relaxes at the other man’s touch. TK seeks out Carlos’ mouth, kissing him heatedly as he grinds down against his finger. Carlos’ pace is steady and TK feels him everywhere at once. As one finger becomes two and two becomes three, TK gives himself over to Carlos completely, in absolute awe of the way he’s able to get under his skin and loosen him up.

He sighs softly as Carlos removes his hand, body practically vibrating as Carlos shifts to get a condom over himself.

TK grips his hips and guides him forward, his eyes rolling shut as Carlos enters him carefully.

“Oh, my god,” he rasps, throat dry as he’s filled.

He dares to open his eyes then and finds Carlos looking right at him, his gaze piercing and sure. Carlos brushes his knuckles across his jawline before dropping kisses along that same path. It’s a level of intimacy TK hadn’t been expecting, but he relishes in it all the same.

His grip on Carlos tightens as he drives into him over and over. He lets Carlos’ words of praise wash over him, delighting in hearing how good he feels to Carlos. He shares the sentiments entirely.

TK traps his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle his moans, but Carlos gently tugs at his chin until he sets it free again.

“Don’t get quiet on me now. I want to hear you,” he muses, kissing his forehead as he thrust forward hitting TK’s prostate directly.

TK cries out in pleasure, his dull nails scratching at Carlos’ back. Carlos lets out a moan of his own, his free hand fastening around TK’s cock and stroking his length steadily as he works himself in and out of TK.

TK’s left leg fastens around Carlos, his hips shifting slightly. The new angle drives Carlos in deeper with each return.

Their sounds echo off the walls, heavy pants and muttered curses as the pressure mounts. TK can feel himself losing the battle to stave off his finish, his cock twitching against Carlos’ palm.

He comes hard a few beats later, his hips snapping forward all the while. He can feel the tension in Carlos’ taut frame. TK’s hands move down the expanse of Carlos’ back to his ass, his lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

“You’re right there, babe, come on,” he urges, the pet name falling freely without a thought.

Carlos trembles, breath catching as he finishes. TK helps him ride his orgasm out, stroking his back as Carlos fucks into him. Carlos’ movements come to a halt but they stay tangled in each other for a little while, enough for TK’s heart rate to return to normal.

“You’re unbelievable,” Carlos says, searching TK’s face before kissing him so deeply it pushes all thoughts from TK’s head.

Begrudgingly they part, getting themselves cleaned up and with each second that passes, TK grows more anxious that this night has come to an end.

“Could I borrow this?” TK asks, holding up an Astros crewneck sweater he finds on Carlos’ desk chair.

“Go for it.”

TK slips the sweater on, at once comforted by the soft material and Carlos’ scent imbedded in the fibers. It almost feels as if Carlos is embracing him.

TK leans down to kiss him goodbye. Carlos’ hands frame his face as he kisses him back, so deeply it stirs up something inside TK. He sinks back down to the bed again, straddling Carlos’ lap, knees sinking into the bedding.

Carlos’ kiss is all-consuming, TK can feel it in every inch of his body. His head is in such a fog by the time he pulls away for a clean breath.

“I should really go.”

“Why?” Carlos asks, dragging his index finger along TK’s jawline.

It’s a fair question that he has no answer to. Carlos’ kiss doesn’t feel like a send off in the way past hookups have. It’s not an ending, merely a beginning.

TK lets himself get pulled into another kiss, hearing nothing other than the blood pounding in his ears as Carlos’ tongue sweeps across his bottom lip. TK opens his mouth to him at once, so keen he is in his desire to have every bit of Carlos that he can.

Carlos braces the back of his neck and flips TK to the mattress, slotting himself between his legs.

“Stay with me,” Carlos whispers against his lips.

They’re three simple words, but they strike at something inside TK. He isn’t used to being picked like this. It’s been far too long since he’s allowed a physical connection to be anything more than just that.

But he remembers that evening at the diner, Carlos’ views on dating, and simply just knowing who Carlos is. This means something to Carlos in the same way it does to him.

As far as offers go, this is undoubtedly the best one TK has ever gotten. So long as Carlos wants him around, he isn’t going anywhere.

~*~*~

Carlos wakes with a start. Moonlight creeps through his bedroom window, a pale streak of color in an otherwise dark room.

Beside him, TK is curled up against the comforter, still in the borrowed Astros sweater, the cuffs pulled over his hands a bit. Carlos studies him for a moment, the sereness on TK’s face, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the mark he left on the column of TK’s throat mere hours ago.

His fingers itch to touch him or to draw him. His mind floods with the memory of their time spent getting lost in each other, in learning the intricacies of each other’s bodies.

He rubs at his shoulder and closes his eyes, remembering all too clearly what it felt like having TK hold on to him firmly right here in this very same bed. He smiles to himself as his eyes open and land on TK, once again admiring him. This whole thing has felt like an extremely vivid dream, but the proof that it happened is right here snoozing soundly on his pillow.

Carlos gets out of bed quietly, careful not to wake TK up. He pads down the hall to the living room, grabbing tarp, an available canvas and his painting supplies. He glances at the clock and registers that it’s 2 o’clock in the morning. But with how wired he feels now, it may as well be the afternoon.

He spreads out the tarp and sets his supplies on top. There’s such a comfort that comes with painting, especially in silence like this. With the outside world so still, Carlos’ creativity is able to flourish.

His body feels as if it’s buzzing while he works. It’s all intuitive; he doesn’t overthink. He doesn’t have to think at all. In the silence of the apartment, he loses himself in his painting, snapshots of TK playing like a montage and motivating him further.

The canvas becomes awash with vibrant colors, bursting like a kaleidoscope. It’s all here, his initial hesitancy and frustration when he first met TK. It bleeds into a different kind of hesitancy and frustration, a guarded urge to protect himself. That gives way to a small crack in the foundation where light comes in and fills every inch of space that remains.

He loses track of time and himself as he pours out everything he’s been feeling onto the canvas.

“Carlos, it’s 3am.”

He startles and turns then to find TK leaning against the wall in his boxers and sweatshirt, his eyes squinted slightly at the light.

“What are you doing up?” Carlos asks, surprised to see him.

TK smiles a bit. “I rolled over and you weren’t there. I had to investigate.”

Carlos laughs quietly.

“Mystery solved; not abducted by aliens. I’ll join you again soon. I’m just finishing up here.”

TK pushes off from the wall and comes closer to Carlos. He settles on the ground beside him, their bare knees touching. Carlos looks away from the canvas to TK’s face and watches his eyes scan the surface. TK lets out a soft breath and blinks twice as he speaks.

“I think I get it now.”

TK turns suddenly. “You really do have a gift, you know.”

Carlos feels his face heat up a bit at the compliment.

“Thanks. It just came to me. I couldn’t wait until morning to start. I think this is it. The final piece my portfolio needed.”

TK beams at him and strokes his cheek lightly.

“I think you’re right. I knew you could do it. It was always right inside here,” he says, tapping Carlos’ temple.

Carlos bites back on his lower lip.

“Maybe so, but you kinda broke it free. I’m not so sure it would have clicked if we didn’t spend so much time together. And after tonight…it all just snapped into place.”

TK looks back at the painting for a moment.

“That’s what I make you feel,” he says. It’s not a question and Carlos knows he doesn’t have to offer an answer. The proof is laid out bare before them.

TK’s smile turns into a full-fledged grin.

“Does this make me your muse then? That’s pretty badass.”

“I guess it does.” Carlos laughs. “You really do inspire me. I clearly can’t deny that,” he continues, gesturing to his latest piece.

TK takes a hold of his hands, not seeming to care one bit as his own become streaked with paint. Carlos laces their fingers and smiles to himself, struck by how much they’ve both been letting each other into their worlds little by little along the way.

This, he realizes, is the beauty in letting go, in being brave enough to let himself fall. Without realizing it, he’s been collecting these pieces of TK and storing them in both his mind and heart.

This relationship they’ve been forging since day one just might be his greatest creation of all.

#911 lone star #911 ls fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #userthai #ronenrubinstein #tusersonia #tuserpaige #useralie #useream #tusersilence #usernicholas #userange #usermimsi #usermorgan #usersteen #userjamiec #userbones #kimmy writes

[evanzbuck]

damn thai what filth are *you* reading? 😂

you start bonnie 🌚

#damn bonnie why are you trying to expose me like this lmaoooo #bonnie tag #ronenrubinstein #answered