Chapter Text
Manmade or not, the presence of a ceiling sometimes threw a bit of a wrench in Carl’s ability to keep a close eye on the passage of time.
Not to any severe sort of degree, time just tended to slip past faster when he was indoors. Or in no doors. Underground, rather. He wasn’t even much of an outdoorsy type, just something to do with how his brain kept better track of the sky, rather than something like a clock.
Talking to a whole lot of people for a couple of hours didn’t tend to help with that sort of thing either, he supposed. Not in any bad sort of way, that was just how it was.
In the present moment, it was awful late at night. Somewhere around 2 or maybe 3 in the morning? Something like that.
All Carl knew for certain was that that party, the one he and Juan were headed home from, was pretty darn fun. It made sense he’d lose track of time, it was time well spent!
Dane’s Dinner Party, (or was it “Dinning” Party…? Maybe that’s what it said on the fliers…) was quite the event. Not too big, but certainly no small gathering. Lots of people were in attendance, a good handful Carl didn’t even know all that well.
Juan seemed to, though. Which was actually a good part of why Carl tagged along in the first place!
See, the whole web of relations, of who was buddy-buddy with who, or who wasn’t buddies at all, sorta covered the entirety of Fort Geraldson enough that Carl only really had a good grasp of what was going on in relation to those he knew best. Or just knew close-to-proper.
Take that David guy, for example! He didn’t talk much to Carl, or… maybe didn’t quite know what to say to him when they did cross paths? He wasn’t too sure. He was a close-to-proper type, at the very least. Only close, instead of real proper proper. Mostly because of uh…
Juan sure got into a lot of shenanigans messing with him, huh? It wasn’t a very fun feeling to be all that judgmental of his best friend, but Carl wasn’t blind by any means. He knew what too much chaos from Juan looked like.
(It looked like an angry guy in a Hawaiian shirt, turning more red than his usual orange, more often than not!)
Though, Juan certainly wasn’t the sole reason Carl wanted to attend the party in the first place. Sure, he could reach that “too much” level of chaos when he got in over his head a bit. But, he didn’t reach that point too often. At least, not in Carl’s humble opinion on the matter!
Nah, aside from tagging along with his buddy, Carl ended up swinging by to have a nice chat with Marvin and Ellie! He’d heard through the grapevine that the couple might pop in for a bit, and it never hurt to say hi to friends at that sort of gathering, did it?
So, chat with the two of them he did! …Mostly with Ellie, though, to be honest. Marvin was awfully on edge about something the whole time, snippets about not wanting to be seen catching Carl’s ear every so often. “They’re distracting each other, still, right?” he’d kept saying. Carl supposed it wasn’t any of his business to ask who or what that was all about, considering how little any chiding or comfort from his fiancee did to change his demeanor.
He was far, far too distracted by his own conversation with Ellie, anyhow. Particularly by the riveting story she had for him, about the trinkets and doodads and such she spotted in a nice pawn shop, a few towns over. Carl liked talking to her a good bit, the stories of people and goodies she had to share each time they crossed paths always instilling a good amount of gratitude in him for the rest of the world. A bit of hope, a bit of whimsy. That sort of thing, all borne from an admirable sort of grounded person.
He did, of course, speak to Dane as well. Y’know, despite their circumstances. Ones he didn’t need to ruminate on much at all. Considering just how… Y’know. Yeah.
Talking took up the biggest chunk of Carl’s evening out of anything, thinking back. He really didn’t drink much of the punch, partly from not being much of a punch guy, but partly from a general goal of caution for the night. The bowl didn’t seem to be too alcoholic. Percentage-wise, at least. But, it was enough to leave him feeling a bit buzzed from a couple of drinks. Not full on woozy or stumbling or out of it, just enough to feel it. The influence he was under.
Carl’s tolerance was pretty standard for the most part. He wasn’t a lightweight by any means, nor did he really go out of his way to drink in the first place. Never had been much for it, since he got into college and after. Still meant he had the sense to take it easy, though. Didn’t wanna burden anyone with whatever he’d get himself into in those little pockets of time he’d sometimes lose. He’d find em again, eventually, but they always served as good reminders not to go too crazy in the first place.
Besides, if he did go crazy with drinking and all, he wouldn’t be in good enough shape to look out for his buddy! Who, between the two of them, did happen to be the one with a pretty high tolerance for alcohol funnily enough.
Because of that, though, Juan did have a bit of a habit of just… running off and just doing whatever he pleased at parties. It seemed to work like some sorta miraculous immunity to any sort of bad happening. One only Juan was of the belief that he had, high tolerance or not.
Though, that sort of behavior wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for him. Juan had a lot of stuff going on, in both the past as well as the present, where he seemed to be the only one aware of… certain things. Things that Carl didn’t much understand a good amount of the time, but still did his best to heed his friend’s word on.
After all, some of ‘em did end up being true! The odd, premonition-type ones, that is. At the very least, Carl just did his best to listen. Listen and look out for Juan, as often as he could.
Which was what he was doing on their little walk home at the moment, keeping an eye out for his buddy!
The night had gone as one would expect, after all. A lot of talk around the bowl, on top of a rather empty looking bowl before the two of them were even thinking of heading out, made for quite the wobbly departure on the way back home.
While they could’ve driven to Dane’s place, the foreknowledge that there’d be drinks there provided a plenty good reason not to. Despite their respective dispositions and consistent shenanigans, the two of them were rather responsible adults!
…At least, Carl did his best to try to be one. A good amount of the time, if he really thought awful hard about it.
At the moment, though, that was one of the last things on his mind proper. Carl was too busy enjoying just that! The moment! A real nice night to be walking across town, even if his vision was too fuzzy to see the stars properly.
Even if he didn’t have much time to look at the stars in the first place, with how much Juan had captured his attention.
Really, since before they’d even left the party proper, Juan had been practically chattering both of Carl’s ears off! Not in any bad sort of way, just a real noteworthy volume of it.
Carl liked listening to Juan talk a whole lot. He’d always been talkative, ever since the two of them had first met, way back when. In the grand scheme of things, he didn’t really talk too much, nor too little. It was a nice rhythm, Juan had. Pleasant and welcoming and familiar. A safe pattern to follow along to when tuning in, no matter how meandering and wacky it could get.
At least, those were Carl’s feelings on the matter.
Not everyone was all that interested in listening to what Juan had to say proper. It was something Carl noticed that… made him a bit sad. Only when he thought a bit too hard on it, though.
After all, there were still plenty of people out there that did listen! They listened just as Carl did, and liked Juan just the same!
Well… maybe not as much as Carl liked his buddy. But, just liking the guy period made someone a pretty alright person in Carl’s book. Maybe even more than just alright. He’d have to think on the right words for it…
Or… well… maybe later. It wasn’t just words that were struggling to come to mind. Balance, too, was growing sparse. Really, Carl just felt downright wobbly, head to toe.
Maybe he was putting too much effort into listening too hard, and not enough into walking quite right. And… maybe it was all just sorta canceling itself out.
The more Juan talked, swinging his arms around and gesturing and stumbling as he rambled on, the less Carl’s brain retained what the words all really meant, strung together. The only thing that stuck, that he knew stuck, was…
…Juan’s voice sounded real nice saying all of those words. Whether Carl understood what they meant or not. Even if he kept pausing to laugh and interrupt half of ‘em, or was slurring the other half real bad.
For some reason, Carl’s brain really found that observation funny. A little bit… affectionately, too? He wasn’t quite sure why.
Maybe he did drink a bit more than he assumed… Hm…
Just as Carl began to consider the possibility, his brain seemed to snatch his legs and feet up. Good timing for it, too! They were juuust about to start tangling together, he was pretty sure. Like wet spaghetti. He thanked his brain with a wordless little smile, kindly squinting his eyes just enough to still see as he carried on.
A warm feeling filtered through his head, like sunlight warming the rocks on the riverbank at dawn. Carl yawned through it, a grin still lifting his face. He refocused himself, less burdened with cumbersome motor controls he’d… honestly been a bit nervous of losing his grasp of. No need to worry about that, now!
The goal for the rest of the night? Getting the two of them home safe.
Now, how exactly else could he get to doing that, beyond just sticking together while walking?
Hmm…
Well, with the whole walking part handled, what’d that leave him?
He had his head. Had two arms, two hands. Sorta? Even in his current state, Carl was sure he could get his prosthetic to work just fine. Y’know, if need be.
Oh, jeez, wait– Now he was walking too good! Here his legs were, making big strides. Confident ones, perfect and stable gait and all…
But, look at Juan! Poor guy was stumbling and wobbly, crossing the sidewalk diagonally, instead of walking down it most of the time! If Carl wasn’t careful, he’d leave him behind!
…Or uh, Juan would probably wander off of the sidewalk into the darkness. A bit more likely than anything else, considering just how much punch he’d put away at the party.
His faltering, still-fuzzy figure was in arm’s reach, though. He wasn’t lost to the blurry, inky soup just yet!
Rather than thinking all too hard about it, Carl just sorta…
…Reeeeached over and snatched up Juan’s hand. With his own, the left one. So the poor guy wouldn’t get left behind! Eh? Eh?
Carl did his best not to yank at Juan too hard as he proudly pulled him along, aglow beneath the buzz at his own clever thinking. He held his hand firmly, eagerly soaking up the heat of it, the chill of his own fingers coming to his attention at the contrast.
Together, still stumbling every few steps or so, they walked.
Despite how entangled their hands became, assuming Carl’s sense of touch in the dark wasn’t failing him or lying to him at the moment, Juan never seemed to notice. Maybe he did, but was too distracted with just how many words were leaving his mouth per second? He never paused as he spoke, not once. Nor did he ever grow any less passionate. Saying something, between tiny, almost agitated hiccups, about something or other he’d said to someone else at the party.
Whatever that something was, the situation rang a bit of a bell, real far back in Carl’s mind. Vaguely, he recalled seeing something of the sort happen, but not exactly what that something was.
The something hadn’t been spoken of by word, name, or anything similar, for a few blocks of walking now, though. If Carl really wanted to recall it, he’d probably need to sit down. His head was clearer then, less limbs to worry about the states and coordinations and such of.
A couple slabs of concrete later, though only one topic change, and Juan lost his gait again. It was a miracle he’d kept it for so long, despite how Carl’s legs still seemed determined to get home sooner rather than later.
Despite such, he wobbled, center of balance spinning and spiraling too quickly for Carl to even turn and catch a glimpse. Just felt the poor guy’s arm wrench around a bit.
Juan never lost his grip, though. His hand squeezed Carl’s tight, hanging on. Once he’d steadied his stumbling steps once more, their fingers reordered and interlaced.
Aah. That was a funny feeling, thumping inside of Carl’s chest all of a sudden.
Not a bad one, just surprising. Eye-opening, somewhat.
It began to dawn on him that… he liked holding hands with Juan. Just a little more than he’d really realized before.
Maybe it was the alcohol talking? Or maybe it was just the time of night. Carl wasn’t too sure, but he wasn’t gonna worry too hard about it either.
They were buddied up, and they were gonna get to Carl’s place safe and sound. That was all that mattered at the moment.
By the time they made it through the door, wow. Wow, did Carl feel lucky.
For one, they were still buddied up! Holding hands and all! Which, even if the thought of it made him feel a little fuzzy and funny at first, he ended up getting used to pretty quickly, all things considered.
For two, he managed to get the key into the door! WITH his prosthetic! One handed, no sweat at all! Sure, maybe there was a second or two of delay from his brain to the mechanism hooked up to his arm, operating the whole operation itself, and it was a biiiit scary at times, re-figuring out what gesturing and whatnot he’d need in order to grip the little hunk of metal through the lingering haze of alcohol. But, he got it! He actually got it!
That sure was a miracle. Honestly, an even bigger one was the fact that Carl remembered where he’d put the outside key, last time he’d moved it. In the dead of night back then, too! While drunk! What a nice night…
The two of them had stumbled in through the door, hands still as tightly interlocked as they’d been on the sidewalk.
When the fuzzy, funny, floaty sorta feeling never ended up leaving, still lingering all throughout Carl, head to toe as he stepped through the door, he merely took it into consideration. He got used to it, welcoming it into his fingertips and limbs, into the folds of his brain. He welcomed it into his home, along with Juan.
Honestly, it just faded into the back after a while, with how used to it Carl got. He was far more preoccupied with the gratitude he felt about The Tower being on the whole other side of town. As well as further from Dane’s place than the gap between his own home and there.
It’s not that he minded The Tower. Not at all! He knew the love Juan put into that thing! What, with its far more than two-dozen floors worth of labyrinthine rooms and hallways and closets. Specimens and artifacts and organisms, sometimes even colonies of such! filling the place to the brim with…
Well, with Juan. With what made him him.
Carl didn’t mind the place one bit, just as you could say he didn’t mind Juan one bit!
But… it was hard to compete with home sweet home.
Especially like this. With Juan with him. Right there.
They’d stumbled and shuffled respectively into the hall, kicking their shoes off at the door. First room on the right was the closest, and had the couch! The living room was where they’d amble over to next, flopping down onto the couch. Still together.
If he was a little less exhausted, Carl supposed he’d maybe turn on a lamp or two in the living room, but… Eh. The light peeking in from the main hall worked plenty fine to see with. It was cozier in the dark, anyhow. Reminded him of a couple of his favorite caves, just a bit. The ones he especially liked to revisit, every so often.
Those caves were quiet, though. Sure, if he sat and listened real hard, stilling his pulse and silencing his breath enough to seek through the ambiance of wind and dripping water, he’d maybe hear a bat or two. Or birds, depending on how much further up near the surface he was, given the area.
But.
“Aand… that’s- that’s the other thing, dude. Like those two were definitely looking at me.”
Caves didn’t tend to have other people in ‘em in general, let alone best friends.
“They were and- they were–” Juan insisted choppily, at the slight nod of ‘Go on…’ from Carl. “They were totally talking about me too like, I swearrr I swear man… They were… they were talking about me when they…”
He trailed off with a loose, airy sort of laugh. Clouded by his thoughts, drenched to the bone in sweetened ethanol from hours prior.
Carl did his best to follow along, but couldn’t help but notice the gap that wormed its way between the two of them. Their thought processes and all. A metaphorical gap, to be clear as well.
When the two of them weren’t hanging out, Juan tended to pivot towards making the name he’d already made for himself twice as good as it was before. If not thrice, maybe more.
He fancied himself a ladies’ man, despite the fact that the guy hadn’t ever had a girlfriend in the past decade plus a few odd years Carl had known him for.
Which wasn’t a bad thing! Not at all! Nor was Juan’s pursuit of such a thing a bad thing either.
Really, even if Carl wasn’t all that interested in that sorta thing, beyond simply being polite and courteous to those that they went to school with, and now shared the same big ol’ web of a social circle with, he got it. He understood, and really did give it his all to be as supportive of Juan’s pursuits in the matter as he could. Y’know, as long as he was there to give that sorta support in the first place.
Funnily enough, it sorta made the two of them splitting off and going to different colleges way back when, when they’d just gotten outta highschool, sting a bit less.
Juan was always so confident in himself. Always had been. He never ever let what other people said or seemed to think of him get him down. Not once! He loved to joke and chat and carry the conversation where he saw fit, and never took rejection to mean he needed to quit being himself. Carl knew he’d do just fine on his own, back then.
…Even if it… did break his heart a little, to be so far from him for that stretch of time. He loved Juan. He loved him a lot! Just… not really in any sorta way he could put to words quite right.
It was a delicate sort of thing. A structure crystalline unlike anything you’d find underground. Anything able to be pulled back up to the surface and shown off. It wasn’t as solid as that.
He treasured it all the same, though. Cherished it when they were together like this, and especially when they were apart for some time prior. That whole saying about the heart growing fonder in absence was pretty true, the more thought Carl put to it.
It made times like this, ones where he could never imagine being apart from Juan, what, with how comfortably slotted into each other’s lives they were, mean so much more. Made every hassle, every fumbled key or stumbled step or extra drop of alcohol that neither of ‘em probably should have swallowed, all the more worth it in the end.
“‘Cuz y’know I can. I can score prettyyy good. Like. Really good of- of course they’d be talking about- ‘bout Me!” Juan went on. He trailed off with laughter again, only for it to be intercepted this time with more hiccups. Short and stiff, jabbing through his words.
“Ssttupid David…” he scowled, “talking… talking sssSo much smack, dude he doesn’tt even- even know he’s doesn’t even KNOW, man!!! You don’t… don’t even know how much he doesn’t even… Yeah.”
Carl blinked at him through the dim light, noting the furrowed knot his brows had tangled into behind his glasses.
“Yeah?” he offered simply.
“Yeah!!” Juan perked up a bit, almost gratefully. His gaze was hazy as he rambled on, blinking slowly. Sorta confused. “Said I couldn’t do, like… any of those if I tried. As if… uuughh as if he’s even. Seen me trying. ‘s if he’s paid more attention to somethin’ other than himself ever in his friggin’ whole life, yy’know?”
Again, Carl could only blink and raise a brow. There must’ve been some train of thought Juan was on in his head, but not out. Something he was fixating on. It’s what tended to happen most in these sorts of situations.
“I can woo! I… I can score! I can…”
He trailed off for a good couple of seconds. Carl almost began to wonder if he was either gonna flop down asleep on the spot, or if those darn hiccups were gonna worsen. Y’know, with just how passionate the guy was getting with his whole spiel?
Instead, neither happened.
In the swiftest, simplest, most graceful movement he’d made all night, Juan leaned in. He leaned in and planted a kiss, right onto Carl’s face.
Knowing Juan, he probably intended to aim for the lips. In reality, he hit Carl’s cheek, as well as a liiiittle bit of the corner of his mouth. Only an inch or so off the mark.
Which… thinking objectively about it. Rolling it around in his mind, all made perfect sense. That sure seemed like something Juan would do!
Something Juan would do, huh.
“It’sss just that easy, man!” he huffed, as if, finally, he’d just shown the entire world some truth that only he had understood. As if he’d proven the most important point of his entire life, triumphant in his declaration. “What a… a friggin’ jerk, huh?”
And then, just as soon as the whole moment had begun, it ended.
Juan yawned. He yawned, stretched, and put a rather satisfied little grin on his face.
Then, falling near-completely limp against Carl’s shoulder, he passed right on out. No further words, no nothing. Dead asleep. Beginning to snore, even.
But, Carl was awake.
He was wide awake, more awake than he had ever felt before in his entire life.
And… for the first time that night, he felt as though he was completely and entirely alone with his thoughts.
He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the matter. Really, it didn’t feel real in the first place. Not what Juan did, nor how curiously clear his mind had become in seconds. Felt more like a dream than anything. Like he’d fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the back of the couch, dozens of minutes ago by that point.
Carl was still awake, though. Awake, shifting ever so gently to keep from waking his best friend from his comically abrupt slumber. To let him rest easy. Rest against him.
They were together, now. Had been for at least half a decade now. If Carl’s memories of college weren’t mixing themselves up and all.
They wouldn’t part again. Not for very long, at the very least. Just a few years separated had felt like a century. Both at the start as well as in retrospect. Rose-tinted lenses were more often warped than honest, to be fair.
Their next parting wouldn’t hurt. Not as badly as Carl’s heart had hurt, despite just how much fonder it had grown from that distance, two states separated, three down.
After all Juan loved him back, didn’t he?
…Maybe not quite in the same way that Carl loved him. Maybe he never would.
But, did he have to? Did it truly have to be the same way, if both still brought a smile to Carl’s face, amidst that otherworldly, jarring silence?
Well… He’d have to think about it.