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Carlos slipped in yet another puddle as he stumbled towards the hideout, landing on his face in mud. The rain was coming down in sheets and he could barely see five feet in front of him. He lifted his head and tried to gather his sense direction. The hideout wasn’t much farther, he was sure of it. Just over the hill he was currently lying at the bottom of.
Carlos’s fist clenched in the mud and he gritted his teeth before pushing himself back to standing with his right arm. His left he kept cradled to his chest, trying to ignore the steady blood flowing from the deep cut in his shoulder. A run-in with a drunken Gaston had gotten the better of him, and Carlos knew he would not find refuge at Hell Hall with his mother. He needed a safe place to crash and the only place he could truly get that on the Isle was the hideout.
He stood, swayed a moment, and clamped his hand over the bleeding wound. He started forward again. He needed to get inside and fix himself up. The rain had driven all the sensible Isle inhabitants indoors and he teetered up the hill without interruption.
Carlos leaned against the door to the hideout heavily, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the locks. Thunder crashed and he leapt back, falling against the opposite wall. His heart raced, the pounding in his ears all he could hear for a long moment. Gritting his teeth, Carlos pulled himself back up, vision spinning as he stumbled to the door again. This time he managed to twist open the locks and he tumbled into the room unceremoniously.
The hideout was dark and empty. Carlos was glad he wouldn’t have to explain anything to his friends. He didn’t feel like recounting the instance with Gaston. The unfortunate facts of life were that 1, Gaston was incredibly possessive of anything he considered ‘his’, and 2, Gaston’s aim was somehow better when he was drunk. Which is how Carlos had ended up with a deep slice across his bicep.
Carlos shut the door behind him, giving the lock a half attempt. He was dizzy, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the blood loss or from Gaston’s punch to his face. He stumbled into the bathroom, flicked on the light switch. The electricity hummed but the light didn’t come on. He turned the switch back to off.
“Shit,” Carlos muttered weakly, sinking against the tile floor.
He was sure that his arm needed stiches and he couldn’t do that in the dark. He probably wouldn’t be able to do it himself, he realized as he probed the wound a bit. It seemed to be bleeding less, but wrapped mostly around the back of his arm. He would need someone else to stich it. But for now he could at least clean and bandage it.
Carlos’s eyes adjusted enough to the dark to find the meager stash of medical supplies tucked under the bathroom sink. They went through supplies fast, with how much fighting the four of them got into. Right now there was only a bottle of a clear liquor Jay had probably stolen from his father and some clean strips of cloth that Evie had neatly cut from clothes she couldn’t salvage.
Carlos picked up a bandage and felt his hand tremble. Why was he shaking? He then remembered he was covered in mud and soaked to the bone from the rain. He needed to get out of his clothes and get dry before anything else.
Carlos groaned. He didn’t want to do anything but lay down. It took all of his energy to strip his clothes off, the wet fabric clinging desperately to his skin. He found a towel hanging from the hook on the door and dried off as quickly as he could, trying not to move his left arm at all. Finally he felt dry enough to try and clean his wound.
He uncorked the bottle of alcohol with his teeth, then poured some onto a strip of cloth. He pressed it to his wound gingerly. It stung. Carlos let out a low hiss and applied more pressure. He pulled the cloth off and looked at it. It was full of blood. He got another cloth and repeated his actions, and then once more, until the cloth wasn’t quite as soaked when he pulled it away. He took a few of the longer strips and wrapped them tightly around his arm.
He felt a bit better now that he wasn’t bleeding out. He was still shaky as he stood, but he stayed upright. Carlos leaned forward to look at his face in the mirror. A dark bruise was blooming across his cheek but otherwise, he looked fine. He ran a hand through his hair, black roots that faded into harsh white curls. He looked little more gaunt than usual, maybe, his freckles standing out against his pale skin in sharp relief. Food had been a little tricky to snag lately. In response his stomach gave a sharp growl.
Carlos sighed. He knew he should eat before he slept. He gathered up all his wet clothes and bloody rags and dumped them unceremoniously in the bathtub. He’d deal with that later.
He walked out of the bathroom and began to shiver. The main room had a serious draft and never stayed warm for long. Carlos went to the carboard box he and Jay piled their clothes in. There wasn’t much in the box, the boys really needed to do laundry. Carlos managed to dig out some underwear and a sweater. That would do for now. He pulled them on, not putting his left arm through the sweater. He didn’t want to move it anymore than he had to. The pain had begun to really hit him, now that he wasn’t scrambling through the rain.
He went to what they called the kitchen and opened the cupboards. They tried not to leave food that would perish or attract vermin in the hideout, especially when there wasn’t someone there for long periods of time. Unsurprisingly, the cupboards were empty. Thinking back, he actually hadn’t seen the other three in a while.
Carlos hadn’t been to school in maybe a week or two. Or maybe it was three, Carlos couldn’t remember. Cruella had decided it was time to for him deep clean all her coats. Each one took a day to clean well enough to satisfy her. Evie had stopped by once, worried about him. But she had seen the coats spread out across the house and understood. Carlos assumed she’d filled in Jay and Mal about his absence. He hadn’t had time to think about anything besides coats, let alone think about if his friends might have missed him. But he had been lonely, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself.
Tonight was his first night out since coat cleaning started, and already he’d screwed up. He knew better than to go through the pub’s scraps before dawn. But he had been shuffling by and seen the chef put out an entire carton of food. Not fresh, of course, but very edible by Isle standards. Carlos hadn’t eaten anything for the past two days and he hadn’t been able to resist.
He wasn’t even going to take everything in the box, just some bread and some produce, maybe. But Gaston caught him just as he was reaching for an apple… and Carlos just hadn’t been quick enough. And now he was here, in the dark, alone, nursing a wound and a growing headache.
Carlos scowled at the lack of food and drank a glass of water to ease his stomach pain. He would have to deal with this after he slept.
Carlos slid into the nearest bed, cocooning himself in the blanket. Its smell was comfortable, like warm sunlight and leather. Slowly, Carlos fell into a fitful slumber.
Jay hated storms. Not that he was afraid of them, or anything. They just made his life harder.
The rain was keeping customers away, and the lights in the store were flickering frantically. Jafar was staring intently at the rain, ignoring Jay, who was sorting through various bits of scrap metal. He was hoping he would find something Carlos would have use for, but he couldn’t guess what the other boy might be needing for his latest project.
“Time to close up,” Jafar announced abruptly.
The older man turned to go up to the apartment above their shop, waving at Jay to do the actual closing. Jay shrugged. Closing alone was a rare occurrence since Jafar was so paranoid about his own son stealing from him. But Jafar disliked storms even more than Jay, and would leave Jay to clean up if it was raining hard enough.
Jay figured the two of them disliked storms because of their desert origins. It didn’t storm in Agrabah, his father always bemoaned, then cursed the endless droughts there with the next breath. Jay had never been off the Isle, so he could only imagine a place that was hot and sunny, where there was actual sky stretching for miles and miles.
Jay began to sweep the floor, watching the rain out of the corner of his eye. He still hoped a customer or two would swing by despite the downpour, just so he could put his father in a better mood when he joined him upstairs. If he was in a decent mood, Jafar would merely lament about the old days and his shot at true power. If he was in a darker mood, well. Then Jay was to blame for everything that had ever gone wrong in Jafar’s life, even though he hadn’t even been alive for most of it. Some days Jay pitied his old man, stuck with nothing when he once had so much more. But most of the time Jay resented Jafar, for being a truly shitty person above all else.
The bell above the shop door rang, barely audible over the sudden crack of thunder. Jay turned with his most pleasant smile to greet the customer, only for it to fall off in confusion when he saw who it was.
Gil, the youngest son of Gaston, was standing in the middle of the store. He was soaking wet, and shifting from foot to foot nervously.
“Gil? What are you doing here?”
Jay was suspicious of the other boy immediately. Gil usually stuck to hanging around the pirates, particularly Uma and Harry. He wasn’t necessarily a foe, but Gil wasn’t good news either.
“Is Carlos here?” Gil asked, glancing around.
“No, why would he be here?” Jay snapped. If Gil wanted Carlos, Uma wanted Carlos. What had that damn Pup done now?
“Well, uh. You guys are friends, right?”
Jay crossed his arms. They were, but that wasn’t something you told people on the Isle.
“I was hoping he was here because…” Gil’s voice trailed off.
“Because?” Jay prompted impatiently.
“My dad kinda hurt him.”
Jay felt his entire body go rigid. Shit. Carlos was hurt.
“And I saw him go this way so I was hoping he came here,” Gil went on. “I just wanted to apologize and give him this.”
Gil held out a bag that Jay hadn’t noticed before. It took him a second to relax enough to take the bag from Gil. He peeked inside. It was full of food.
Jay tilted his head to look at Gil again.
“Food?”
Gil nodded, looking down at the ground. He seemed embarrassed.
“Carlos was taking some food from the pub, and you know how much my dad doesn’t like things being taken from him. And I just, well. He looked so hungry!”
Gil was one of the handful of kids on the Isle who ate pretty regularly. This wasn’t the first time Jay had encountered him handing out food to someone, though Jay had chalked it up to Gil’s oblivious nature. It had never occurred to him that Gil was just…nice.
“So, Carlos isn’t here?” Gil asked again.
Jay shook his head and Gil looked even more worried.
“I hope he’s inside someplace, he seemed to have lost a lot of blood.”
Jay tensed again at that. That was absolutely not good. He needed to find Carlos right away.
“You said you saw him go this way?”
Gil nodded.
“Yeah, otherwise I would have gone to Hell Hall but that’s the opposite direction.”
Jay thought for a minute, glad the Pup had enough sense not to go home to his mother while bleeding out. The only other place he figured Carlos would go to, if he could make it that far, was the hideout.
“Thanks, Gil,” Jay said, meaning it entirely. “I’ll find him and make sure he is okay.”
“Do you want me to come with?”
Jay appreciated Gil’s help this far, but he couldn’t just lead Gil directly to where the hideout was.
“Not this time, bud. But I’ll let you know how things go, okay?”
Gil seemed satisfied with that and headed out with a tiny wave, back into the storm. Jay was briefly concerned about Gil getting back where ever he was going, but that boy was as heavy as a rock. He could get through the storm no problem. Carlos, on the other hand, was a twig. He might have been blown half way across the Isle by now.
Jay quickly turned off the flickering lights and grabbed his jacket. He threw the sack of food in one of his bags and left the store, locking it behind him. Jafar wouldn’t miss him at all. Jay turned sharply on his heel and headed towards the hideout.
As much as he wanted to run there, the dirt streets were mud thanks to the rain. It made for slow going. Visibility was low and the wind seemed to be getting stronger every few minutes. So Jay trudged along, trying not to think of the worst. Of Carlos bleeding to death in an alley. Of someone coming across Carlos before Jay did and hurting him more.
After what felt to Jay like an eternity, he was at the hideout. There was blood smeared against the wall opposite their door. Carlos was here. And he hadn’t locked himself in, Jay frowned as he pushed open the door.
The hideout was pitch black. Jay reached out, fumbling for the light switch. He turned it on, and the overhead light flickered out a weak yellow glow.
There was Carlos, the tips of his curls peeking out from the blanket he was under, softly breathing. Jay let out a deep sigh of relief.
He tossed his coat and shoes aside, locking the door. He set the bag of food on the table next to an empty glass and went to Carlos.
The younger boy was in Jay’s bed, wrapped tight in one of the quilts Evie had made.
Jay knelt next to the bedframe, and gently put a hand to Carlos’s forehead. It was incredibly hot.
“Carlos?” he murmured.
Carlos stirred, muttering incoherently.
“’Los? It’s Jay.”
Carlos slowly opened one eye. Then the other one shot open and Carlos sat up abruptly.
Jay sat back, putting his hands where Carlos could see them. The other boy was skittish, especially when he first woke up.
“It’s just me, just me” Jay said to him soothingly.
Carlos blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes, still tensed. He then looked at Jay. His eyes were glassy, Jay noticed. He definitely had a fever. Under one eye a deep purple bruise stretched from his temple to his jaw. Jay felt a surge of fury build in his stomach.
“Jay,” Carlos mumbled, relaxing. “Why are you here?”
Jay gestured towards the bed and Carlos nodded. Jay climbed next to the boy.
“Gil came to the shop. Said you were hurt.”
“Gil?”
“Yeah, kinda weird right?”
Carlos nodded, seeming out of it.
“He said Gaston hurt you.”
Carlos nodded again.
“Where?”
Carlos looked at Jay and gestured towards his face with his right arm. He usually used his left. Jay knew the bruise on his face was not all there was. Especially not when Gil had mentioned losing blood.
“Where else?” Jay prompted.
Carlos touched his left shoulder.
“Can I see?”
Carlos didn’t respond. Jay waited a moment before asking again, not wanting to push but also wanting to make sure Carlos wasn’t about to die.
“Carlos, if you’re hurt, I can help.”
Another moment passed and Carlos gave a curt nod. He pulled the edge of the sweater up to rest above his left shoulder. Jay drew in a sharp breath and Carlos gave him a dazed look.
Jay wasn’t sure exactly where the wound was, but the mess of bandages were dark red with dried blood. Gil had not been joking about blood loss.
“Okay,” Jay said, trying to stay calm. Usually Evie or Carlos were tending to his wounds, not the other way around. “Can you make it to the bathroom?”
Carlos nodded and stood. He immediately collapsed back onto the bed.
“Slowly!” Jay said.
He stood and slung Carlos’s good arm over his shoulders. Jay wrapped his free arm around Carlos’s torso, marveling at how delicate the boy seemed. He half carried, half dragged Carlos to the bathroom. He turned on the light in there as well, grateful their electricity seemed to be holding.
Jay glanced around. Carlos had been in here earlier. The bottle of liquor they used to clean wounds sat open on the edge of the sink and a pile of clothes he took to be Carlos’s sat stiffly in the tub.
“Right. Okay.”
Jay gathered up a new handful of cloth rags and turned towards Carlos, whom he had placed on the toilet. He was now slumped against the wall, his wound towards Jay.
“I’m gonna take these off, okay?”
Carlos blinked. He didn’t seem up for speaking more so Jay took that for a yes. He slowly began to peel off the old bandages, wincing at the flakes of blood that fell off Carlos. Carlos gave a small grunt when Jay peeled off the bottom layer.
“Sorry, sorry.”
The wound was long, and it was deep. Blood still oozed from it, though it wasn’t as much as Jay had expected.
“What did this?” Jay asked Carlos, tenderly turning his arm towards the light.
Carlos grunted again.
“I know Gaston did, but. With what?”
“Crossbow,” Carlos muttered.
“Glad it only grazed you, Evil. This is still really deep, ‘Los. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stitch it up…Maybe we can get Evie over here…”
“No.”
Jay looked up at Carlos’s face. It was pale, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyes were still glassy, but they had a dark intensity.
“No Evie.”
“Okay, no Evie,” Jay echoed. Whatever made Carlos feel better.
He looked back at Carlos’s arm. The wound needed to be closed, Jay knew.
“Do you trust me to stitch it?”
Jay winced as he asked that. Do you trust me? What kind of question was that?
But Carlos seemed to relax, and nodded, the intensity in his eyes fading. He rested his head back against the wall again.
Jay took a deep breath.
“I’m going to get Evie’s sewing kit. Stay awake, okay?”
Carlos nodded slightly again and Jay stepped into the main room. While he rooted through Evie’s desk for a needle and thread, he had to stop himself from screaming. What kind of idiot was he! Running after Carlos in the rain! Offering to stitch him up, even though he almost vomited last time he watched Evie do it! He was not being smart about this at all.
A low groan sounded from the bathroom. Jay took a deep breath, centering himself. Carlos needed him. And that meant he was going to stitch him up, by Evil.
He pulled a needle and thread from Evie’s sewing kit and went back to the bathroom. Carlos watched him struggle to thread the needle.
“Sanitize,” Carlos told him.
“Right, right.”
Jay put down the needle, washed his hands, then got a match. He ran the needle through the flame like he’d seen Evie do. Carlos nodded at him. Jay threaded the needle. He looked at Carlos, trying to decide how to approach this.
“Can you, sit on the floor?”
Carlos slid off the toilet, and settled next to Jay, still leaning against the wall. Jay held up the needle then stopped.
“Can you take off the sweater? I don’t want it to fall while I’m stitching you.”
Carlos gave a feeble attempt at moving the sweater he was wearing over his head before looking to Jay. Jay gently pulled the sweater over Carlos’s head, flushing as his fingers grazed Carlos’s skin. Carlos gave a small shiver, and Jay wasn’t sure if it was the fever or if Carlos was responding to him. He took a second to take the other boy in, the freckles and scars covering his torso. He was…beautiful.
Jay let out a hot breath. Focus, Jay. Focus.
“Okay. Okay. I’m going to start now.”
Jay cleaned Carlos’s wound once more with an alcohol-soaked cloth and then he held the needle to Carlos’s skin. Carlos looked dead ahead, his jaw locked. Jay let out a shaky breath and began to stitch.
Jay gave his arm another wipe with a rag. It still stung, but Carlos felt better knowing the wound was shut. He glanced down at Jay’s handiwork. The stitches were uneven and crooked, but he was stitched up. He breathed a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He wanted to go back to sleep now.
Jay touched his shoulder. Carlos hummed in response. His brain felt like it was on fire.
“You should eat before you sleep.”
“No food,” Carlos told him sleepily.
“Gil gave you some food.”
That cut through Carlos’s hazy mind.
“Gil?”
“Yeah, I told you he came to the shop, right? He wanted to apologize for his dad, and he brought a bag of food for me to give you.”
“Gil?” Carlos echoed again.
“Yeah, Gil.”
“Huh.”
“So come on, let’s get you something to eat and then you can rest, okay?”
Carlos let himself be pulled up to standing by Jay. He was much taller than Carlos, who only came up to just above his shoulder. Carlos let his head lull against the other boy as Jay maneuvered him to the bed. As Jay set him down Carlos realized whose bed he had been sleeping in. It was Jay’s. Jay smelled like sunshine and leather. Carlos vaguely tucked that information away for later as Jay settled down next to him.
Jay was holding a bag and out of it he pulled various food. A half loaf of bread, a few oranges, some other things that would require cooking to be edible. Jay pulled off a piece of the bread, making sure there wasn’t any mold on the piece he handed to Carlos.
It took a lot of energy to get the piece of bread to his mouth and then to chew it. But he finished it quickly and held out his hand for more.
Jay chuckled.
“Don’t eat too fast, Pup, you don’t want to get sick.”
Pup. That was… new. Usually just Evie and Mal called him that. Carlos’s stomach felt warm. Maybe Jay was right, he should slow down.
Jay handed him another piece of bread and began to peel an orange. Carlos ate this piece much slower, as Jay told him to. He watched Jay’s hands peel the fruit. They were quick and his movements sure. His hands were calloused but still looked soft, his sunkissed skin littered with small nicks from years of thieving. Carlos followed the curve of the toned arm to Jay’s face. His hair was dark and his eyes darker. His jawline was sharp. But Jay was soft, Carlos knew this. Carlos blinked a few times and pulled his gaze away from Jay. His stomach still felt warm.
Jay offered him an orange slice. Carlos ate it gratefully. Fruit was hard to get a hold of on the Isle, mainly because the barges bruised anything that came in beyond recognition. These oranges seemed in remarkably good shape, and Carlos was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for Gil. He was a simple boy, but he was kind, and had stuck up for Carlos more than once. He owed Gil. What, he wasn’t entirely sure. But he owed Gil. And he owed Jay.
“Thanks,” Carlos said softly.
Jay turned and looked at him. Carlos blushed, looking down at the orange slice in his hand.
“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Jay responded just as softly.
Carlos trembled slightly. Jay noticed, and immediately stood.
“I’ll get your sweater.”
Ah. Yes. He was cold, Carlos remembered. He looked down at his arms to find them covered in goosebumps. Jay returned quickly and eased the sweater over Carlos’s head. Carlos pulled his right arm through the sleeve but left the other alone still. Jay nodded approvingly.
“Don’t move it too much,” he instructed.
Carlos nodded, suddenly very sleepy. He felt his eyes begin to slide shut.
The lights flickered, and the room went dark.
Jay chuckled, and began to gather up the food.
“Perfect time to get some sleep, Pup. I’ll be nearby.”
“No!”
Carlos sat up straight. A sudden panic filled his throat. He didn’t want Jay to be nearby, he wanted Jay next to him. He needed Jay.
“Sleep…with me?” Carlos croaked out.
He saw Jay’s form pause in the dark.
“Okay.”
Carlos slid down in the bed, satisfied. He forced himself to stay awake as Jay climbed into the bed with him, ever so gently. As soon as Jay was laying down, Carlos fell fast asleep.
The morning sun came in through the few windows that weren’t boarded shut with a ferocity. Carlos opened his eyes slowly. His fever had faded away during the night, but his body still ached.
Carlos shifted slightly, trying to stretch out the stiffness in his legs. He brushed up against something warm and froze.
Jay.
He had forgotten that he had asked, practically begged, Jay to sleep in the same bed last night. Evil, what had he been thinking?
Carlos turned his head slightly, so he was facing the other boy. Every place their bodies were barley brushing against each other felt like they were on fire. Jay was still sleeping, lips parting slightly as he breathed evenly. His dark hair tumbled across the pillow, one hand clasped in a fist and the other resting softly on top of the blankets. Carlos couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t want to stop looking at Jay, at Jay laying next to him. But why?
Life on the Isle didn’t exactly allow room for love. Especially not the kind of love Carlos was feeling as he watched Jay sleep. Yes, he loved Mal and Evie, in a protective, sibling-like way. It could even be said that he loved his mother, in the loosest sense of the word. But his love for Jay…was different. It was the reason his stomach felt hot last night when Jay called him ‘Pup’ and the relief that had flooded him when Jay had showed up out of nowhere just to take care of him. It was a need. Carlos needed to love Jay.
Shit.
This was not the kind of revelation Carlos had been expecting to wake up to. He forced himself to turn away from Jay and stared at the ceiling blankly. What was he going to do about this? Nothing, that’s what. There’s no way Jay felt the same, and even if he did… That just wasn’t something that Carlos could consider right now. Right now he needed to process the fact, because it was a fact, that he was in love with Jay.
Jay woke up slowly, the sunlight pulling him reluctantly from the depths of slumber. He opened his eyes to Carlos’s profile, his deep brown eyes starting at the ceiling. Jay stayed quiet and still, drinking in the other boy.
The bruise was nearly black, fading out to a green at the edges as it mingled among Carlos’s soft scattering of freckles. His lips were pressed together, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed deep in thought. Jay held himself back from reaching to tuck a stray curl away from Carlos’s face.
“Hey,” Jay whispered.
Carlos tensed, and immediately relaxed as he turned to look at Jay. Jay felt himself flush as Carlos gazed at him intently.
“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice hoarse.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Sore. But better.”
“Good.”
“Thanks to you.”
Jay gave a small shrug, his cheeks still warm. Carlos was still staring, like he was looking for something in Jay’s face.
“What, Pup?”
Carlos bit his lower lip and Jay felt his entire body melt.
“I want to… try something, I guess.”
“Try what?”
“Just… hold still.”
Jay did as he was told, heart pounding. Carlos pushed himself up with his good arm, positioning himself so he was leaning over Jay. Their noses were almost touching. Jay felt like his entire body was being electrocuted.
“Close your eyes.”
Jay slid his eyes shut. He would do pretty much anything Carlos asked at this point.
After a moment, he felt Carlos lean closer. Then his lips pressed against Jay’s. It was a soft, delicate kiss, over too soon for Jay’s liking.
Jay opened his eyes. Carlos had leaned back, and was chewing on his nails. He looked small, uncertain.
“You kissed me,” Jay stated the obvious.
Carlos winced.
“Sorry,” he murmured, turning to get out of the bed.
Jay caught him around the middle and pulled Carlos back down next to him.
“Finally,” Jay breathed, as he ran a hand across Carlos’s face.
Carlos’s eyes widened in surprise. Jay closed the gap between them, and kissed Carlos firmly. Carlos melted against him and Jay only pulled away when he was truly out of breath. He pressed their foreheads together gently.
“I don’t run through a storm for just anyone, Pup,” Jay murmured, delighting in the way a blush spread across Carlos’s entire face.
Carlos buried himself deeper into Jay’s arms, the two boys aglow in the morning light of having each other as sanctuary.