As Painful As Possible

(Friday Night-Saturday Morning, July 20th – 21st)

Carlos takes a deep breath, before he raises his hand to the door; however, he falters. What if Aziz is right? Jay's never been good at understanding people's feelings, but he can tell when someone's in pain. He's been able to tell when Mal's in pain. It's just harder for him to understand his pain. He probably thinks it's a good thing now, but it's a fine line between pleasurable pain and painful pain. He can't speak over him. This is probably a bad idea.

"Carlos?"

Carlos turns, and his eyes widen, "Jay?" He eyes from the bedroom to him, "What are you doing?"

He shrugs, "Evie was showing me the kitchen."

Carlos notices Evie next to him, "I—I was just…"

Jay smiles, "Looking for me?"

"Um."

He walks past him, opens the door, and nods him in, "Come on." Carlos looks from him to Evie, and she widens her eyes, slightly shaking her head. "Coming?"

"Uh." Carlos turns back to Jay, "Yeah." He enters the room, Jay shuts the door, and he watches him slowly tower over him. Jay takes his shirt off. "So, um." He eyes over his muscular torso, "It's been a while."

Jay nods over to the bed, "Go." and he follows him over to the large bed.

Carlos turns around, "Jay."

"Take your shirt off."

Carlos complies, before he meets his dark brown eyes, "Is this going to hurt?"

It takes a moment for Jay to smile, "You bet it will." before he eyes over him. "Strip."

"What?" he mutters.

"I said, strip, you pansy."

"Right." Carlos unbuttons his bottoms and takes off his boxers. Jay eyes down, before he places a thumb to one of the burns and presses hard. Carlos seethes, shutting his eyes, and Jay turns him around.

He whispers into his ear, "Miss me?"

Carlos tears up, "Yes."

"Bend over."

Carlos moves onto the bed, and he hears Jay unzip his jeans. A moment later, he feels the penetration. There are no fingers, no spit, nor lube; he holds his breath and shuts his eyes hard, but the forced push causes him to gasp. His eyes water, and then his bottom's slapped. There's another hit and then another, the stings warming the area. As it grows more tender, the same spot is slapped even harder. He can't speak. If he speaks, he will cry. If he cries, Jay will never have him like this again. The slapping stops, and the scraping continues. Jay presses his body against his, Carlos grunts, and Jay whispers, "Whore."

"Kiss me," Carlos begs, and when he turns his head, Jay's lips meet with his.

It should have been perfect. It should be—even now, Jay's arm wrapped over him so protectant, like he's so afraid to lose him. Carlos wipes the tears from his eyes, slowly removing Jay's arm from him, before he stands from the bed. His butt hurts as he walks, and his trip to the bathroom revealed spots of blood in the tissue. He knew it had hurt more than it should, but how's he supposed to say that to Jay?

When he exits the bathroom, he moves his way to the door; however, Jay notices him, "What are you doing?"

"Kitchen," Carlos hurries, before he hesitates, "Want something?"

"Hell, no," Jay murmurs, before he lays his head back onto the pillow. "It's too early for that shit."

Carlos opens the door, and when he enters the hallway, he checks his watch. It is early. Anyone from the Isle would be going to sleep right now, not waking up. He shakes his head, maneuvers his way to the kitchen, and throws a frozen pizza into the oven. He leans onto the counter, as the pizza slowly makes its way to his nostrils. He checks it, but it's still not ready. He has to wait. It won't be good if he doesn't, like with Jay. It would have been better if Jay had waited. If he'd asked how he was at any point, if he'd noticed the tears when he'd kissed him, it'd all have been better. He shakes his head. He can hear him now, about how it's his fault. He said he liked pain. He never said no. It's his fault this has happened.

"Is that pepperoni?" Carlos turns around, and Aziz frowns at the tears on his face, "Carlos." He steps forward, and Carlos eyes down.

"It was like he was trying to make it hurt has much as possible."

"You didn't like it," he quietly comments.

"Even the parts I would have," he nervously says, "I couldn't focus on it."

Aziz takes a seat at the island counters, "Why don't you sit down?"

Carlos glances at a chair, before he meets his dark brown eyes, "I'm afraid to."

Aziz looks down, sighing, "Do you need a ride to the store to get ointment or something?"

Carlos's frown deepens, "I don't have any money."

"What are you talking about?" Aziz doubts. "You always have money."

"Maybe back when I was Chad's personal prostitute," Carlos mumbles, "but now he's all sin-free, Evie's business is pretty much closed for the summer, and Ben pays me in chocolate." He slightly shakes his head, "Az. I'm broke."

"I could pay for it," he offers.

"No," Carlos shakes his head. "You can't."

"I get a pretty good allowance," Aziz informs. "I would be sinning if I didn't help you."

"Okay," Carlos uneasily accepts, before takes the pizza out and cuts it. Aziz walks over to put a couple pieces onto his plate, but Carlos stops. "He tried insulting me."

"What?" he faces him.

"Jay," he explains. "I think he did it, because Chad used to. But when Chad did it, it was better. He would pause, make some expression, and then act like he came up with the most brilliant thing ever. I could tell he didn't mean it."

"With Jay you can't."

"His expression stays the same," Carlos ponders. "It's not play. It's… It feels real, like he actually hates me and thinks I'm a whore. Which, I've only sold myself to like three guys already, so why wouldn't I be?"

"Three?" Aziz asks.

"Ben." His eyebrows raise, and Carlos explains, "It's less sex and more… blood."

"You think, maybe, that's why Jay tried killing Ben?" he sarcastically inquires.

"It's over. Okay?" Carlos takes some pizza for himself, "All part of his 'recovery'. I'm not even allowed to talk to Ben alone now."

"Carlos," Aziz returns to subject, "you're not a whore."

He tiredly stares at him, "Thank you."

"Found you," a chipper voice enters the room.

Aziz turns to the archway, "Dad."

"What are you boys eating?"

He glances at his plate, "Pizza."

"Great," he smiles. "Hand me a piece."

"It's pepperoni," Carlos discloses, and when Aziz nudges his shoulder, he laughs.

"Is there any left?"

Aziz cautiously comments, "You still want some?"

"You don't see your mother or sister here, do you?" Aziz doesn't speak, and he continues, "What do you think I ate on the streets? A homemade dinner? Come on." Aziz places two pieces on another plate and serves it to his dad. "I couldn't tell the difference between pork and chicken if I butchered it myself." He points a finger at him, "Not a word to your sister."

Aziz smiles, "No. Of course, not." before he turns back to Carlos, his smile slipping. He quickly grabs his plate and sits near his dad. "Speaking of sinning…"

"Yes?" his father warns.

He frowns, "This is my friend." and Carlos takes his plate over to the island counters as well. "He needs a ride to the drug store."

His dad frowns, "For what?"

Aziz hesitates, "He hooked up with his ex."

"So," his dad slowly assumes, "you need to pick up some STI medication?"

"Uh, no," Carlos uncomfortably comments, staring down at his pizza. "I just, um." He takes a breath and faces him, "I got hurt."

"Hurt?" he concerns.

"I like things rougher," he admits. "I had a hard telling hi—them—to stop."

There's a long silence, before Aziz asks, "Can we help him?"

His dad takes a moment, "We're telling Belle about this."

"What?" Carlos disbelieves.

"Dad. We can't."

"She's his legal guardian, isn't she?" he counters.

"Sultan," Carlos starts.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, "but you're too young to be having sex, and if you snuck out to see someone while under her care, she needs to know."

Carlos and Aziz offer each other a look, before Aziz reminds his dad, "Ben's family keeps a late schedule."

He nods, "We'll go to the drugstore now, but I'm still going to speak with Belle."

"Do you have to?" Carlos worries.

"Look," he sympathizes, "I know this is embarrassing, but you got yourself hurt. Now, whoever hurt you or however it is you got hurt, we need to make sure it won't happen again."

"It won't," Carlos promises.

"And this way it won't."

Carlos starts to cry, "I can't believe this."

"What do you need from the drugstore?" he softly asks.

When Carlos fails to speak, Aziz answers, "Ointment. The numbing kind."

"What does he need ointment for?"

"Because. I'm gay," Carlos confesses, "and the guy I'm in love with is a fucking sociopath. He thought that if I liked getting hurt, then he'd make it as painful as possible." Carlos gulps, his voice changing to a whisper, "And I couldn't tell him to stop, because I thought if I did, then he'd never want to do anything with me again."

Aziz's dad deeply frowns, "Carlos." before he seriously eyes him. "Do you currently live with your ex?"

Carlos starts to sob, and when the sultan faces his son, he quietly comments, "It's Jay."

Carlos and Aziz glance at each other, as they stand outside the library doors. "I'm sure Jay didn't mean to hurt him," Belle solemnly excuses.

"They can't stay in the same house," Aladdin addresses, "or this will happen again."

"Jay's not going back to the Isle," she protests. "Mal's the only real family he has. He's staying here with her."

"I'd like to take Carlos."

Carlos grins at Aziz, but his clear concern causes his expression to falter. "Pardon me?"

"Fifteen is too young to be homosexual," he opinionates.

"Okay," Belle's voice strengthens. "Now I know I'm not letting you take him."

"He's never even dated a girl before," he informs. "A lot of these problems could be avoided if he were to get a girlfriend."

"That's your plan?" she refuses. "To have him stay with you, so you can shame him into getting a girlfriend?"

"What would you do if it were Ben?" he challenges.

Belle laughs, "Well, we've always told him, whatever he does, not to get caught."

"Nice parenting."

"It allows him to be honest with us," she explains. "All of these kids have been very honest with us, and with their background that's saying something."

"Look," Aladdin tries to reason. "It's just for the summer. He needs some time away from Jay, so he can examine his feelings and find his true path in life." Belle doesn't speak. "Even you have to admit that someone living with their ex can be self-damaging."

She sighs, "I see your point."

"So, you will let him come with me?"

"If he wants to," she agrees. "But under one condition."

"Name it."

"Carlos is nonreligious," she informs. "He's expressed that he'd like to study religion for analytical and societal purposes, but I don't want you trying to indoctrinate him."

Aladdin takes a moment, "I can promise I won't force any scripture onto Carlos, but Jasmine clings to it for her own wellbeing."

"Make sure he doesn't feel pressured into anything," Belle insists.

Carlos cracks the door open and watches the sultan nod, "I promise."