Chapter Text
“…yours just as bad? ‘Cause this sucks.”
Waking to words, concerned yet just as unbothered as always, brought an infectious grin to Carl’s face. Despite knowing he should… probably figure out what was going on first.
“I mean, I hope you don’t have as bad of one as this, sheesh!”
A huff of laughter escaped Carl next, words still formulating slowly, methodically, in his mind.
“Good morning,” he hummed, prying an eye open slightly. “Bad as what, now?”
The cushion beneath him, particularly under his left leg, shifted. A mass of warmth beside him pulled away. No, uh… less that he pulled away, more that he just seemed to be sitting up. Juan was, that is.
“This headache, man!” he repeated, almost incredulous. “It’s so bad I’m… Like, my vision’s blurry and everything, I can’t see shit!”
Hm. Intuition told Carl that… that had something to do with the something tucked into his shirt. Particularly the neck of it, resting against his chest.
Sure enough, upon cracking his other eye open and peering down, there they sat. Juan’s glasses. Folded up neatly, resting squarely, simply, upon Carl.
The events of last night, in those wee hours of the pitch-black morning, sort of tickled at the back of Carl’s brain. Methodically, bit by bit. He coaxed at the memories, leading their stream forward. Slowly, meanderingly and all, they crept down each layer of his brain’s folds, like water flowing through a cave. Trickling lower and lower, deeper and deeper. Or, maybe closer to a larger pool. Said larger pool being that of what he knew. What he remembered.
This sort of thing, Carl was quite accustomed to doing. Especially when his memory wouldn’t budge on matters he couldn’t quite recall. Not one bit.
He followed where the stream had come from, backtracking through a blanket of nothingness to those hours spent in comfortable quiet. Near silence, littered only with blissful, quiet breaths.
His prosthetic had come off last before he’d conked out, Carl knew that for certain. He distinctly remembered fumbling around a bit, fighting with going through the motions to slip it off one handed. (...One armed?)
The fight had been moreso with the hands of sleep, tugging at his eyes and threatening to pull him under before he could even get comfortable. Aided, of course, by what little alcohol was still worming around in his system.
…But, why had he only been one handed for that?
Uuh… Hm…
Before that, Carl could recall reaching over and plucking Juan’s glasses up, off of his face. So they wouldn’t get crushed, or the lenses smudged, anything like that. He’d folded ‘em up nice and neat, then tucked them into the neck of his shirt. At the moment, he’d been sure that that would be the safest place for them to be. He didn’t toss or turn much in his sleep, and would likely just chill there, unmoving. Sitting on the couch for the night, anyhow.
…Why was he gonna be unmoving, though? What was he…
Oh. Ooohh.
What exactly he was missing filtered through next.
Juan had, uh. Fallen asleep on him. His shoulder. Still holding his hand and everything.
Carl didn’t quite remember the why of how that had happened yet. His best guess was that… he probably needed to do it to get Juan home in one piece.
Which… the more he thought on it, did sorta seem like a pretty solid why! Sounded about right for a night drinking. At least, for Juan it did.
But… That was the kicker. The more Carl thought on it.
The more he did, the more he realized. Realized that he was gonna start remembering… Something.
Something his brain had grown awful itchy and antsy about. Something it was playing a lousy, half-assed game of keep away with. A game he had a feeling he’d win eventually, but… maybe he didn’t wanna win it?
So, he spoke before his mind could talk him out of it. And… tried to put that impending realization on hold, if only for a moment or two.
“You probly just need your glasses,” he offered. “Unless you’ve got that sleep gunk in ‘em real nasty. Heh.”
Juan rubbed at his eyes, grumbling inaudibly. Well, very audibly. Just saying more gibberish than anything intelligible.
Turning and leaning with another quiet laugh, Carl prodded at Juan’s free arm with his own. Er, more like the nub of it.
They entered a brief little back and forth. Wordless, sometimes a bit awkward, as Carl did his best to lead Juan’s hand over to his glasses. Finally, after a squeeze of encouragement to the latter’s right hand, he found them.
Juan snatched his glasses right up, slipping them on.
“There ya go!” Carl cheered with a smile.
Looking Juan in the face, though not quite in the eye yet, some… thoughts began to stir. Jogging the rest of those fuzzy memories from last night loose, proper.
Carl had never quite understood the whole saying about getting butterflies in one’s stomach, but he supposed that whatever twisty, restless sort of feeling that had captured his chest at the moment was pretty darn close to that.
That being said. The brief moment he found himself in… It felt awful similar to last night.
To staring down at Juan’s face, squished into his shoulder, all haphazardly.
Not solely last night, though. No, Carl could remember seeing that sorta sight countless times before. Juan was a bit of an unintentional expert at crashing in all sorts of precarious positions, his limp, sleeping form finding itself at the mercy of whether Carl would notice or not before he’d move his shoulder and disturb him. Not that either ever really minded much.
Why was this feeling so different, then? Why was this feeling here in the first place? They always did this sort of thing. It wasn’t like it was any sort of big deal, was it?
Unless…
Oh.
The missing piece clinked right in.
They… hadn’t kissed. Not properly, nor directly. That was the first thing Carl told himself. Reassured himself with. It hadn’t gone that far. Why would it have? Carl would never consider just up and doing something like that, especially with his buddy in the state he’d been last night.
…And he wasn’t all that sure if Juan would ever consider it either.
(Especially while sober.)
But. It had happened. What… had happened. Happened.
Juan had kissed him. Brief and wonky and maybe not knowingly. But, he had.
Carl hadn’t dreamed it. Hadn’t imagined it. Hadn’t seen or felt things that didn’t happen. His brain wouldn’t lie to him about something like that.
It happened. It really happened.
That… must’ve been the twisty feeling and all. What it had meant.
That this happened, it… it wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. Deep in his chest, beneath the flittery floaty fuzzy feelings, Carl knew it wasn’t.
Juan had been wobbly and woozy and hiccupping and just plain drunk when he’d done that last night. He hadn’t known what he was doing, had he? Hell, he probably didn’t even remember doing it in the first place! That right there wasn’t right one bit.
“You okay, man?”
Oh. Now, their eyes finally met.
“You’ve got a weird look on your face,” Juan pointed out, a strange look of his own capturing his face as he spoke. “…Or uh, did–”
Well, that wasn’t right either, now was it?
Carl righted things, smiling again. Despite not remembering his face falling in the first place.
“Huh? Nah, I’m a-okay,” he reassured Juan. “Just thinkin’ a little…”
“Oh,” Juan could barely articulate, before–
“About last night.”
He was sure that, by that point, the twisty feelings had escaped from his chest onto his face.
But, it was okay. It had to be okay. Because Carl needed to be honest about this.
The two of them could talk it out, smooth things over. They could avoid anything bad from happening, and any bad from ever becoming worse. That was the last thing Carl wanted. Out of anything. Something bad.
…Especially something caused by him. Caused by him not doing something right. Something he was supposed to do.
“I, uh…”
“What about it?” Juan cut in, before anything more concrete could be enunciated. Less talking over Carl, more like the two of them talking in tandem. Just another form of their communication.
“D’you remember what was goin’ on before we got here?” earnestly, he asked. “And got all, uh… settled down?”
For a moment, as he thought, Juan’s face sorta scrunched up. Then, he scratched something of an itch on his cheek, or so it seemed, and the whole thing unscrunched.
“Uuh… A little bit? I think I was pissed off, more than anything.”
He blinked a little, gears visibly turning behind his eyes.
“Yeah, about uh… probably something stupid from the party.”
The chuckle Juan trailed off with sent Carl swallowing. He felt like a rock was wedged in his chest. Maybe trying to roll even deeper, into his guts.
He didn’t remember. And… Carl did.
Oh no, he… he had to say it, didn’t he? He’d have to be the one to say it, even if it was awkward and difficult and painful, even if it staked right through his heart to do it.
“Well, uh. Yeah, I think that was a part of it,” Carl did his best to reorient. To regain his footing, ready to pivot back around to reach the goal.
“…D’you remember what happened after? Right before ya fell asleep?” he tried, next. “Any- anything ya did in particular?” Maybe it would hurt less if Juan remembered for himself. Maybe that was all he had to do, just get him to realize–
“What,” Juan laughed again, another stab seized at Carl’s chest, “did I say something I shouldn’t have?”
His brain went all white and staticky for a moment. At the, uh… numerous ways that that could be taken. That… the thing Carl wanted to say could be taken. Would be taken.
Ways that scared him. Not for himself, or his own well being but… Well.
How they might make Juan feel.
It wasn’t fair to dance around him like this, though. To treat him like he was fragile, like his feelings were to be handled and dealt with like some volatile thing. Wasn’t fair to Juan himself.
Carl had to say it. He had to. No matter how he’d feel after rippin’ the bandaid off, he was, at the very least, sure it’d feel a whole heck of a lot better than how he felt at the current moment. So… he had to.
And he would.
“No, you uh. Y’kissed me.”
Upon pausing, Carl couldn’t bring himself to meet Juan’s eyes anymore. Not if he wanted to keep going.
“‘Bout uh… here.” Helpfully, he motioned to the corner of his mouth with his nub. Or, tried to, at least. “And then you passed out.”
He swallowed, throat feeling as though it was full of dust. Dry.
“I uh… didn’t want it to just… go unaddressed,” Carl murmured. “‘n make things awkward. ‘Specially if you didn’t…”
“Oh, yeah!” Juan exclaimed, drowning out the whirling, roaring dread of whether or not he– “I remember doing that!”
Every last worry or fear or any sort of shred of discomfort was tossed aside in that moment. He lifted his head, looking Juan right in the eye, only to be met with a… pretty standard grin. At least, by Juan’s standards. Despite him still seeming a bit groggy and low energy from his hangover, too.
Something must’ve shifted, or been tossed aside, maybe, for Juan as well. His own expression shifted. He blinked, not quite in shock or awe. Just… blinked. Yeah.
“What?” He blinked again. Catching up to his own thoughts, surely. “Oh–”
…Just as Carl was doing the same, funnily enough.
“I’m uh. It’s…”
The two of them spoke, stumbling over the other’s words in an almost achingly familiar sort of way.
“That- oh. Sorry, it–”
“Sorry, I didn’t–”
…
The room fell still. The images and ideas Carl’s eyes were seeing finally properly hit his brain. Processing them.
Blindingly, Juan smiled. Deafeningly, at least to Carl’s shell-shocked mind, he laughed a little.
“Why are you apologizing, man? You didn’t do anything!”
Really, Carl felt like he was talking through cotton. Like his mouth was full of gauze, or something of the sort.
Peering at his reflection, barely visible in Juan’s lenses, too… He sure looked flushed. Felt like it, too.
He wasn’t sure. None of this was that big of a deal. Why did he feel this way?
“I just, uh…” Carl floundered a bit, the right words eluding him. “I dunno. I feel like I- I shoulda spoken up sooner, or… or somethin’ like that.”
He let his smile drop. Half from his worries, half from the pain that sprung from the idea of lying to Juan. About how he felt. About anything at all. He didn’t wanna do that to him.
“Didn’t wanna make things awkward for you. More than they might already be… considering the whole. That. ‘N you being drunk and– probly not really intending to do something like that ‘n all. … Especially with someone like—”
“Oh, no, I did!” A pause full of laughter paced Juan’s words. “Intend it, I mean.”
Huh?
“Huh?”
“I mean, I don’t see anything wrong with it!” Juan went on. He just went on. On and on and— “What’s wrong with giving a buddy a little smooch, just to prove a point?”
Carl’s mouth started moving. A little faster than his mind, though both felt sluggish. Scarily so, despite the disconnect.
“But– But. Wouldn’t you rather kiss someone else?”
“Huh?”
Were his mind not running a mile a minute while trapped in quicksand, Carl would’ve laughed at it being Juan’s turn to say that.
“Like, uh. Like a… girl, or something?” he ventured. “Like you were sayin’ last night?”
With a quick blinkblinkblink, followed by a quirk of his brows, Juan laughed. It’s the good kind of laugh, too. It lets Carl’s brain catch up a bit, with how it lingers.
“I mean, yeah. I’m gonna have to eventually,” he finally answered, once calmed down. “That’s what you’re s’posed to do. The whole kissing girls thing!”
The way Juan said it, like the concept was a fundamental fact of life, grounded Carl in that moment. Even if it was in a sad sort of way.
Honestly, what grounded him even more was the question of what exactly made him sadder; the idea that Juan hadn’t (and might not ever, knowing how his brain worked,) yet figured out that he didn’t need to worry about or even expect that sort of thing for himself, or the idea that Juan would’ve even reacted poorly to this in the first place! I mean, really. The latter was pretty bad. What kinda best friend was he, doubting this guy? A pretty doubtful one, Carl reckoned.
“But, I mean. I’m cool with it!” Juan was still going on. “The- the thing from last night, I mean. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have done it.”
A silence hung over the two of them. It called to mind the stale air of a cave’s dead end. Wasn’t exactly that dangerous, not really, but… it was something of the sort.
Juan’s face fell a bit. He must’ve noticed too.
“Oh. Wait, is- is that why you—”
Then, his… face did a little more than just fall flat. His brows pinched up, and his eyes widened all nervous-like. Sheepish. Scared, kinda.
“I just… wanted to make sure,” Carl insisted. Doing his absolute best to comfort, as well as clear the air. “I figured, well, either it was the punch talking or just… your head playing tricks on ya. Makin’ ya do something y’didn’t really mean.”
He needed to be honest.
“Yeah, but–” Juan spoke, just barely audible over the pounding in Carl’s chest. “Were… you cool with it, man?”
He needed to say it. Even if it made all of that sadness, the thing still grounding him, worse. Even if it dragged him underwater, squeezing the air out of him as he struggled through a narrow passage leading to nothing but more water. Resigning him to such a tomb, layer by layer of sediment, constructed with that same sadness.
“Juan, can I be, uh…” he murmured, trailing off as his brain rattled and coughed out the next words he needed. “…real… honest…?”
Those wide eyes blinked once. Then twice. Juan wasn’t quite frowning, wasn’t quite as sheepish and scared as he seemed earlier, but still sat there. Quiet. Not as quiet as he was when he’d make that one face, but close.
“Yeah,” he still spoke. “Yeah of- of course, man.”
Carl breathed in. He blinked right back.
“I, uh. I was.”
…Maybe a little more honesty wouldn’t hurt.
“I was. Cool with it, I mean.”
Another fit of blinking overtook Juan’s eyes. Er, glasses? His face.
Then, he huffed out just one little snort of laughter. Not at Carl, that much was plenty obvious. Seemed to be out of incredulity, more than anything.
“Then– Dude, then what’s the problem?” He giggled a bit. “You look like you got caught stealing something, or- or like…” He giggled a lot, actually.
Carl did too. Laugh, that is. His brain was still spinning its wheels a little, but not in any bad sort of way anymore. If anything, it let him catch his breath. Let him think of what to say next.
Let him take in the moment. Take in how Juan squeezed at his hand, returning the motion from earlier, sending Carl blinkblinkblinking with a stunned sort of gratitude.
“I guess there isn’t really one…” he finally pieced together. “I just—”
There was less fear, this time. Of the knowledge that he needed to be honest.
“…guess I was worried that it- that it wouldn’t be right for me to be cool with it.”
Less didn’t mean it was gone. Oh boy, not at all. There was still a tremoring in his tendons, one Juan could surely feel in his hand as he spoke.
“Wouldn’t be… cool, …………y’know?”
“Naaah, what? ‘Course it would!” Juan shot right back, a trusty sorta grin lifting his face. “If I’m cool with doing it, and you’re cool with doing it, then I don’t see any problem!”
Doing it.
Doing it, in this circumstance, being… kissing.
Honestly, Juan was an expert at deescalating scary sorts of spirals like these. Unknowingly, but still an expert.
Unknowingly, though. He uh…
Well, all of this was. It was about…
“You… see no problem with us kissing, then,” Carl repeated.
He had to repeat it. Had to say it aloud, lay it out plain. No sugarcoating, no dancing around the truth. To make sure that this was real. Was really happening. To make sure he wasn’t still dreaming or something.
“Well– I mean, when- when you say it like that, I, uuh…” Juan paused for a beat, rubbing at his cheek idly. Maybe a little thoughtfully. “I guess I see why you were worried a little.”
A smile snuck into his words near the end. Sheepish, like before, but not all that distressed.
But, then, it widened. Crafty and sly, it did. Playful.
“…But, I mean. Yeah. Yeah, I’m–” Carl blinked as Juan squeezed at his hand again. Really squeezed it, this time. With a real earnest look in his eye, to match. One that Carl did his best to return. “I’m cool with kissing you. Or- or the other way around, if you wanted. Heh.”
This guy. Ohhh this guy…
All that sadness that had weighed Carl down, pulling him underwater in that metaphor, filling his chest with doubt… In an instant, it all evaporated away. The little rosy-cheeked grin Juan hit him with next pierced through the big ol’ sheet of black ice that had crystallized onto Carl’s shoulders. Like a pick, aimed square at a geode. Cracking him open.
He smiled at Juan. Big and wide. Probably a little goofy, too. He smiled and laughed and didn’t mind one bit that his own cheeks were probably looking awful rosy all over again. It just meant the two of them matched.
“Could I be real honest again, then?”
“Huh?” At first, the surprise in Juan’s voice was potent. It seemed to take him a second or two to notice, or maybe just for the sight to sink in, that Carl was smiling and just barely stifling his giggling, like he was keeping some silly sorta secret. “Of course man, what?”
“I am too. And I- I do.”
…
Right, honesty. Well, less honesty, more just saying what he meant. Outright.
“I’d yeah. I would want it,” he elaborated. “The other way around, us- me- me doin’ that.”
After a rather ellipses-laden pause, preceded next by a quiet, “Yeah,” Carl squeezed Juan’s hand. Returning the firm, earnest one he’d received before.
And, really, that was all Carl could do. Y’know, aside from smile at him, all warm and fuzzy. Only getting warmer and fuzzier as he watched that rosy color from before spread across Juan’s face. His eyes widening, his posture straightening. Like he just got told he’d won the lottery all over again.
“Oh sh- sw… sweet, man!” he laughed. Not quite forced, but… the emotion to it was one Carl hadn’t ever heard from him before. Couldn’t put a name to what it sounded like. “That– I’d… that’s…”
He took the look in. Really put it under the microscope, so to speak. It looked a bit like those big, dopey grins Juan would put on, but not exactly. There was a resemblance. To that, as well as uh. Carl supposed it could be called a ‘look of hubris,’ that Juan donned often, as well. Some sorta hybrid of those two.
In any case, it made Carl laugh even more. Affectionately, in awe, all of it.
“Then, can- can we do it right now?” Juan, rushed and almost breathless, implored.
Something about it all. His demeanor, the funny, fluttery, fuzzy feeling in Carl’s chest… It made him feel almost playful. Like it was his turn to flip the script, sending his buddy guessing like he’d been.
“Do what exactly?” he replied. A big, silly grin plastered on his face. Eyes full of mirth.
“Dude, c’mon,” Juan was barely able to answer with. “You know what I’m–”
And then, Carl steeled himself. His will, his still-churning mind. He steeled his everything and shut out his pounding heartbeat and squeezed his eyes shut and leaned in.
And. Well. He did it. He kissed Juan. Right there, right on the mouth.
Despite the whirling of his mind, Carl still knew his own intentions on the matter. A simple kiss, planted square on the lips. With a goal of maybe 2 or 3 seconds spent lingering. Maybe that was too many? Maybe that made him the greedy one, full of hubris.
Carl pulled away and squinted an eye open. He grinned, doing his best to disguise bashful feelings with a teasing look. To follow up how he’d been before.
“Now, how was–”
Before “that?” could leave him, and, really, before Carl could even properly take in just how wide Juan’s eyes were. Or how his lips had parted and pursed, his face falling into a shocked, awkward sort of half-slack-jawed stare. One that pulled away and hid those dimples he’d always had, ever since he was a kid.
Before any of that could happen, two or maybe three things happened in pretty quick succession. Quick enough to send Carl’s own eyes shooting wide open, the both of them.
First, Juan kissed him. Again. Right on the mouth, just like he’d had done to him, seconds before. Probably the most important thing for Carl’s brain to interrupt all other thoughts for, in order to properly notice and take it in.
Next, he unthreaded his fingers from between Carl’s, bringing his hand up. Both hands up. He grabbed Carl’s face suddenly, firmly, but not too hard. His right hand still felt warmer than the other, especially as it was planted on Carl’s cheek, shakily. That bit was where the “maybe three” came in. One goal wrapped up into two distinct motions Juan was doing and all.
The other’s eyes were squeezed shut, now. And, even with their faces all squished together, even as the gears churned for him, the realization dawned upon Carl of just how flushed Juan was. How flushed his whole face had been, not just his cheeks, all this time.
And he was kissing him. He was kissing him, and he meant it.
He was kissing him and kept kissing him, lips moving slowly, yet fervently.
He was kissing him, and Carl reckoned that he should probably get to returning it, if he didn’t wanna seem like some kinda liar. Y’know, in relation to that whole spiel of worrying he’d been spinning before.
So, snaking his now-free hand around to press flat to Juan’s back, somewhere between and below his shoulder-blades, Carl fluttered his own eyes shut. He kissed Juan back.
It wasn’t perfect. Neither of them were all that experienced in this sorta art. Though, neither of them really cared much. At least, those were Carl’s feelings on the matter.
It was a bit funny, too. Having this be what woke him up proper. Sitting on his living room couch, basking moreso in the warmth of someone he’d held close countless times before, but never quite this close. Illuminated more by him, more by both of their flustered faces, one reflected back at itself by half-fogged glasses, than the shaded sunlight of the morning, peeking through the curtains onto the floor a few feet away.
As they tended to be, they were awkward for a bit at first. Those aforementioned glasses sometimes clunked against Carl’s face, slipping off of Juan’s head. Sometimes, the latter’s nose would jab into the former’s a bit smushily. Not that Carl minded, of course.
Sometimes, their mouths wouldn’t fit together quite perfectly right, between the breaths for which they’d part in order to take. Teeth would bump and clack, and someone would laugh or snort. Hands would shift spots a good dozen or so times over the course of a handful of minutes. Juan’s would end up slung lazily over Carl’s back after a while, with the latter’s drifting to thread through the former’s lopsided, just slightly bed-headed curls.
Of course Carl didn’t mind it. Not one bit.
They never got too deep, or. Well. Super intimate with the whole thing, either. Simply sitting there, holding one another and essentially just smiling into each other’s lips for a good 20 or 30 minutes was plenty fulfilling.
It wasn’t really as if Carl meant to be smiling the whole time, either. He couldn’t help it. Every little detail of the whole thing just left him feeling happy. Giddy in some ways. Simply at peace, comforted, in most others.
Despite the whole lack of any sorta deepness thing, he could still taste the punch from the night before, just barely. Perhaps it was from both of their mouths, not just Juan’s. On the other hand, the hint of the mint he’d been chewing on on the walk to the place, Carl couldn’t help but snicker at the persistence of.
Yeah. That sort of comfort. Best-friend’s-hours-old-mint taste.
It did remind him, though, amid stifled laughter, that the two of them hadn’t really done much to prep for bed the night before. Neither had brushed their teeth. Though, that fact hadn’t mattered much in terms of the kissing. Carl had smelled and tasted much worse scents and flavors, in a good handful of notable places. More of them underground than he’d ever really admit. To anyone other than Juan, that is.
Speaking of, it seemed like the two of them were on the same page. As per usual.
A gentle beat or two after the two had parted to breathe, forehead to forehead, as they tended to, Juan suddenly sprang up. Eyes wide, his hands planted onto Carl’s shoulders as he hopped to his feet in front of the couch.
“Oh shoot, I totally forgot–” he gasped. “I’ve got tower biz in an hour or two!”
Carl blinked. Then he grinned. Seemed like Juan’s mind was wandering as well. Not exactly bored with the intimacy, just. Doing what it did.
“Well, don’t let me keep you from it,” he nodded.
“Nah, nah, you aren’t! Don’t worry about it, man,” Juan pulled away, animatedly waving his hands and grinning right back. “I’ll be back in like– barely any time when it’s done, ‘kay?”
And just like that, as the sun rose and the sleep left Carl’s eyes proper. The two of them slipped back to their status quo.
He gave a wordless, thumbs up. One that Juan took and grinned twice as brightly at. He rattled off a vague goodbye, one Carl knew was only so vague considering the intent of his words prior. Then, he rushed out the door, just as swiftly as the morning seemed to begin. At least, from his best friend’s perspective.
Carl’s smile softened. He was sure his face was flushing again anew. He brought his hand up to check.
…Well. He didn’t really get to thinking about it, did he? That thing from last night. About love. The ways it worked.
Maybe… he didn’t need to.