Summary: 1-shot set during 3x02- Ocho milímetros. Carol confronts Iván about the bond between him and Marcos. Is there more to it? (Marcos/Iván) SPOILERS!
Pairing: Carolina/Iván & Marcos/Iván
Warnings: There is explicit language and mild content. It may also contain mild dub-con at the start so be aware of this as well.
Spoilers: Yes, some minor ones for 3x02 Ocho milímetros. And maybe some major ones from past episodes.
Tags: It's set during 3x02 Ocho milímetros.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author Note: I've only been dabbling with this idea for a bit so go easy on me.
Carol tried not to notice the difference - the whispers, the looks, the concern - but it crept up on her. Things were different. Iván was different. Her heart sunk over time as she watched her boyfriend overlook her and her not-so-secret love see through her. It was heartbreaking and irritating.
When they were down in the tunnels, Iván swept past her and told Marcos to be safe. As if she wasn't there; he couldn't even spare a glance at her! And when she made a move on Marcos, something she knew they both wanted, he rejected her and cited Iván as the reason. As if he ever cared before! And that was when Carolina truly began thinking. All the small details lurked just above her subconscious until they created a bigger picture and it wasn't pretty. But she held steadfast...or, at least, she tried to. Until the last straw finally broke the camel's back.
Maria was that straw.
Carol wasn't an idiot, nor was she naive. When Maria came to speak to Iván about whatever he certainly wasn't telling Carolina about, his eyes flitted across the room and met Marcos' in a subtle but not really way. And Carol could just hear the conversation they weren't actually having in the six seconds that weren't really happening.
And then Iván walked out.
And when he returned, she could see that something was wrong. He was too pale, his eyes too red-rimmed. His hands were too shaky...then he sat beside Marcos and Carol watched Marcos throw an arm over his shoulder and bend down to whisper in his ear. Sweet nothings, her mind assured her. And then, suddenly, she was done. Something had to give. And it had to be soon.
{*}
Iván was taking his shirt off when she walked in. Carolina. His Carol. A year ago, the thought of her name alone caused happiness to bubble up in his chest. But now, instead of the joy and relief he usually felt, all he had was a sense of foreboding. There was an air about her, even when she tried to be light-hearted. Iván saw it in the way she walked, looked around, the way she looked, and Iván was apprehensive; he couldn't take another damn problem.
"What are doing here by yourself?" She asked him before closing the door.
Iván ignored her in favor of taking off his shoes. He was tired of rebuffing her attempts at talking and he figured she'd let it go if he held out. She walked towards him, stopping at the foot of his bed and crossing her arms. Iván covered his face with his hand before letting his hand drop.
"What happened to you?"
At that question, a million things flew into thought but he only shrugged. "Nothing."
Iva leaned on his headboard so there was some distance between them, but Carolina sat down at the end of his bed, staring at him intensely.
"You can't fool me. I know something is wrong with you...what did Maria tell you?" She scooted closer to him and Iván began to get irritated. Why wouldn't she let this go? "What are you and Maria up to?"
"Things that don't concern you," He huffed.
Carolina stared at him with this look in her eyes and Iván waited for her snort of indignation or a roll of her eyes. Instead, she lied on his bare chest with a barely there sigh. Iván suddenly felt bad so he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead.
Running her finger along his chest, Carolina said, "You can tell me." A kiss to his skin. "You know that. We have always told each other everything."
Iván wanted to rip his hair out or pull away but he knew that she only wanted to help...but he also knew there was nothing she could do. "Ok, but nothing is wrong," he reassured her. "Everything is alright. It's fine, alright?"
He leaned down and kissed her. He hoped it would end the conversation. He prayed it would end this conversation. He pressed harder onto her lips, but he could feel her pulling away. She sat up and moved away from him. Iván could see the fire in her eyes and suddenly, he felt unsure and suffocated. Suddenly, he wasn't ready for her.
"No, no, no, Iván. No! It's not fine!" She exclaimed. Iván turned away in frustration before defiantly looking into her eyes. "It's not fine. Nothing is fine."
"What?" Iván asked.
She looked at him, hurt and upset. She asked, "Why won't you tell me?"
"I thought we were kissing? Why are you asking me this now?" Or ever. Iván would've preferred that she never brought this up, but it was like every time she saw him she wanted to know.
"I'm just asking you and you won't tell me," she complained. And finally, Carol couldn't take it anymore. "But you'll tell Marcos, right?"
Shocked, Iván sat up. What the hell was she talking about? Why was she talking about Marcos? Fingers pulling at his hair, lips brushing against his chest, hands pulling his shirt off. Wrong wrong wrong.
"No?" She taunted. "You spend all day whispering and looking at each other."
Iván was too confused and shock to even dispute her accusations. "Ok, what's happening? Are you jealous?"
He wanted her to deny it, to let it go. He wanted to stop all of this because he has had a hell of a fucking day and he definitely didn't need this now. He couldn't even begin to think about what all this meant. She noticed. She knows. She guesses. I don't know. Thoughts constantly swirled around in his head, guilt bubbling up in his chest and his heart clenching from fear. She glared at him, "Well, in fact, I am."
"Whose blood is that, Iván?"
"I killed him. I killed him. He's dead. He's dead."
"You have to go. Go!"
"I can't tell you."
"You can't tell anyone."
Iván wondered how she'd felt if she knew what everything meant. What he was. What he did. Iván knew she couldn't know - no one could know. He was truthful enough to admit to himself that he no longer trusted her, not like he trusted Marcos now. He could also admit that she wasn't as far off the truth as he wished.
"Iván!" Marcos snapped. "Take off your clothes and take a shower!"
Iván shakily began to undress, piling his clothes on the floor. Marcos looked at him, "Who did you kill?"
Blood smeared across Iván's face, he was barely holding in his tears. He couldn't stop shaking. "The guy who was pointing a gun at Maria. H-he was going to shoot, Marcos, he w-was going to k-kill her. I swear! I didn't want to!"
"Who was he? Who was that guy?" Marcos couldn't believe it. He feared the man could've been working with Héctor, trying to kill them. He needed answers.
But Iván didn't have them, "I don't know who he was. I don't know!"
Marcos ran to the cupboard to get Iván another shirt, one that wasn't soaked in another man's blood. "I tried to cover the wound, but it...he was dead already. He was dead!" Iván tried to explain. He didn't want to kill that guy. He didn't mean to shoot, but everything was happening so fast and seeing Maria in danger stirred up feelings that he didn't know he felt. He had to protect her! Marcos ran to Iván, handing him a shirt.
"Calm down, ok?" Marcos soothed. But Iván wasn't fully there, still trapped in his crime. "He was already dead..." Iván hastened to put on his new shirt, staring at Marcos as if he held Iván's entire future in his hands.
"Marcos, Marcos, you can't tell anyone. Please," Iván pleaded. He knew he and Marcos didn't have a great relationship, even though it had improved. And he knew Marcos had a thing for Carolina. If he wanted, Marcos could destroy whatever was left of Iván's life, and Iván knew that. But Marcos wasn't like that; he looked directly in Iván's eyes, "Iván, I swear I won't tell anyone. This will be our secret."
Iván looked at him as if he was the hanger of the sun and the moon and stars. Recently, nothing in Iván's life had been good. Cayetano was murdered, his father went to jail, he realized his life was a lie, Carolina cheated on him time and again, he murdered somebody. Iván never really thought that Marcos would be the one person who didn't let him down. He felt his world tilt on its axis. And then, they were hugging. Iván held into Marcos as if he was his lifeline, grateful it was Marcos he ran into. Not Vicky, not Carol, not Roque.
As Marcos began to pull away, their eyes connected and the air around them shifted in a way that made Iván's stomach clench. Iván couldn't move nor speak as Marcos leaned closer, brushing his lips against Iván's. Before Iván could process what happened, Marcos crashed his lips against his. His lips hypnotized Iván, the kiss growing fiery and passionate as each second passed. At the moan that escaped Iván's throat, Marcos pulled away. Neither spoke as their actions dawned on them. Finally, Marcos pulled himself out of his reverie, recalling the situation at hand. He ducked down, grabbing the murder weapon, "Now we have to get rid of the shotgun."
Iván had always explained that kiss as a result of the situation they found themselves in. Adrenaline pumping through their veins, emotions were running high, he could go on and on. And it had worked...until he came back to school. And Marcos smiled at him. And they hugged. Then, Iván couldn't deny it anymore. Couldn't explain it away anymore. Now, he was forced to admit the truth. He was attracted to Marcos, he liked Marcos. And it confused him and pissed him off, because when he saw Carolina, his heart would pound and his palms would sweat and butterflies were released in his stomach. He loved her. But with Marcos, Iván would tremble from his touch and a fire burned in the pit of his stomach and he ached. And Iván couldn't stop it. He loved Carolina, but he liked Marcos. He liked women, but he burned for Marcos. And he tried to ignore it, but fate had different plans.
