Written for a prompt for Trick or Drabble over on LJ. Title from Daydream Away by All Time Low.
They're not supposed to drink too much, because even though Brooke Diamond has a lot of rum at the back of the tallest cabinet, she's not stupid. James has been tall enough to pull out various bottles since he turned twelve.
Carlos's face is beautiful in the half-light of James's kitchen, head thrown back in laughter. The cabinet knob presses uncomfortably in between James's shoulder blades, but the rum in his veins makes his limbs heavy. He's too tall to suffer a drunken fall – it's a long way to the floor.
James pushes at Carlos's shoulders, and the other boy topples over, still laughing. "I swear to you, Jenny Tinkler farted and then acted like I did it!" Carlos doesn't believe him. "Diamonds don't fart!"
Carlos smiles up at him from the floor, his teeth impossibly white in his tan face. "If you don't fart, what do you do?" James's stomach swoops uncomfortably when Carlos pushes onto his forearms, his face suddenly serious. "You can still take a number two, right?"
Nose wrinkling, James takes a big gulp of rum. With no chaser, it burns down his throat and carries warmth through his veins. "What kind of question is that," he asks, the bottle still resting on his lips. "Of course I can take a shit."
Carlos rolls his eyes and pushes himself up, but he's laughing again, bobbing his head back and forth. "Did you know your head gets funny when you drink?" His brown eyes are innocent and wide, mouth tilted in a crooked smile. James tilts the bottle suddenly, and this time the burn he feels in his chest has nothing to do with alcohol.
Sometimes James thinks his life is too hard, between being so very pretty and being so very, very horny. In between dreams of pop stardom, scantily clad women and shirtless men parade through the corridors of his mind. The girls are a faceless blur, but the boys all have dark eyes and darker hair, with smiles that taste like mischief.
He hasn't told his mama yet about those dreams, but sometimes, when she's teaching him to use her newest beauty product, he thinks he doesn't have to tell her. He's just afraid she'll assume he'll run off with her new pool boy, just like his daddy did.
When Carlos's fingers brush against James's as he grabs for the bottle of rum, a vague, wordless goal creeps into his mind. A simple, nagging what if.
Carlos and James have known each other since forever, and it's been at least half that long since James realized that slope of Carlos's nose makes his stomach do flips when he's least expecting it. But Carlos is just so…unswervingly straight. Even though he's got an unhealthy appreciation of musicals, James has never caught him watching porn studiously like it's something he's got to memorize, like Logan. James has also had the misfortune of walking in on Kendall with a finger up his –
A flush rises high on James's cheeks, remembering it, staring at his best friend's fingers. "Do you think Kendall and Mandy from Earth Sciences are gonna get together?" Carlos suddenly asks him, peering at him through the mostly empty rum bottle like a telescope. "She's so pretty, isn't she? And Kendall's just so, so…" He trails off, tapping the neck of the bottle against his nose as he searches for the right word.
"Plaid?" James suggests, motioning for the bottle. Carlos gives it to him right away, leaning close. He smells like rum and like Papa Garcia's Old Spice. The smell catches in his chest, closing around his heart until the yearning feels like it's going to make his heart burst.
"Maybe," Carlos agrees, plopping down with a sigh next to James. Their thighs touch, and their skin presses, too hot, against each other where their shorts end. "When's your mom coming back, again?"
James turns to him, the wood of the cabinet door soothingly cool against his cheek. "She's gone until the day after tomorrow."
A grin lights up the other's face. "That was such a great movie! Do you have it?" He rolls to his knees, swaying unsteadily. "I can't go home like this, my papi would kill me." He frowns at the thought. "And that would suck."
James pushes himself up with the help of the counter, the room spinning around him pleasantly. "I think I have it." He leads the way to his room on the second floor.
His room is a pigsty because it hasn't been clean since his mama left for Berlin a week ago, but Carlos settles down on the huge bean bag in front of the TV, on top of a pile of clean clothes, digging through the enormous stack of DVDs for the movie.
Settling on an old shirt of his that isn't too big, he hands it to the other boy, and as Carlos puts it on, James begins to plot. Carlos will love him, one day, because James Diamond always gets his way.