A/N: Oh man, I've fallen in love with David Archuleta's music… I'm not sure if that's good or bad; it's amazingly wonderful music, but I've been listening to so much music lately that I've been forgetting to write. Just sitting on top of the frame of the playground's swingset and singing my heart out along with my favorite artists. (sigh) One thing that I think attracted me to his music might be that his voice is similar in sound (to my ears) to Carlos' voice…
Time to get this running. Chapter 4 time!
Disclaimers- I don't own the BTR boys, or Apple. I really wish I owned both, since then I could buy whatever I wanted and have Carlos around to be a (boy)friend. But I don't, so ho hum. I do own the ideas and any semi-original characters mentioned. Oh, and I don't own the lyrics. You'll find out what song they're from in two more chapters, or if you're anxious just go look it up.
Chapter IV
Carlos watched the TV intently. Logan was going on soon. The event: pommel horse. He stared as the current athlete, some guy from American Samoa named Montenegro, attempted his best on it. It was an adequate performance, earning adequate scores. Nothing amazing. The raven-haired boy just wanted to see his favorite gymnast go on.
James had left for a while, but the tan boy had completely forgotten about that. His focus was on the screen and the screen alone. Except for the occasional stray thought about whether his dream guy had actually read his letter or not, he was one hundred percent focused on the bright box. Finally, his favorite brunet athlete walked out from the side, moving to sit down in a chair over by the piece of equipment he would soon be using. The camera followed along behind the pale boy as he walked, giving Carlos a nice view of a pair of wide shoulders, a heavily muscled back, the same two massive biceps, and the gymnast's butt. Carlos smiled at the image, beginning to feel aroused. He rubbed at his crotch, moaning lowly at the screen.
"God, how I would love to pound that tight ass… or have him pound me, either way is fine," the Latino thought aloud to the apartment.
"Okay, that is not something that I need to hear right as I walk in," he heard returned, literally jumping out of his seat in front of the TV. The tan boy turned to see James standing in the open doorway, the tall brunet with a sly smirk etched onto his features. Carlos' heart was beating out of his chest, his arousal having completely dissipated; he had forgotten that James went out a little earlier, having become absorbed by the flashing picture box and its pretty colors. Blushing intensely, he felt his heart rate begin to slow down a little, the scare washing away, simply hearing James laugh loudly.
"Next time, knock before you come in," the tan boy said with a glare, hearing his roommate sigh in response. The brunet held a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
"Dude, this is my apartment where I'm letting you live. I can come in whenever and however I damn please. Hell, I could come in here at three in the morning playing a piccolo with an entire marching band following behind me so that we could have an obnoxiously loud party, and you wouldn't have any say in the matter." Carlos frowned. James was right about that, he could do anything he wanted and Carlos couldn't stop him. Sighing, the Latino turned back to the television.
Logan had advanced up to the beige colored equipment, placing his hands on the handles just as the tan boy's eyes landed on the screen.
"Carlos," he heard from behind him.
"One second James, Logan is up now."
"Carlos, seriously, you don't have to watch every event he does. Anyways, pommel horse isn't even exciting, and I need to talk to you about the Samueli Concert this month." The tan boy actually turned his head away from the bright pictures upon hearing the name of the engineering school. And he did agree, pommel horse bored him to death even if Logan was up now. It was just someone swinging their legs all over. "Just look at the scores after he's done."
"Fine. Now, what about the concert?" James simply sighed at his best friend's stupidity.
"Well, maybe the fact that you still haven't picked a song yet." Carlos let out a small huff and pouted. He already had so much work to do, and he had forgotten about the stupid song for the concert that their little musical group performed at the street fair every two months. The tall brunet was always so serious about the concert, being a music major. It was apparently a really big deal since it showcased the taller boy's abilities, even though Carlos sang lead every time. The tan boy ran through the list of songs that he had listened to lately, comparing which ones he liked most before smiling.
"I have two ideas. Here's my iPod, go listen to these two songs," Carlos tapped on the screen rapidly, choosing two songs and placing them into a playlist for his taller friend. James grabbed the object out of the boy's hand, looking at the two names. His left eyebrow rose, and he glanced back at his roommate questioningly.
"They sound kinda dark, don't you think?"
"James, trust me, they're really good, and I think that they'll actually be easy to sing compared to that stuff that you usually try to get me to sing." The tall brunet looked at Carlos in shock, bottom jaw hanging in disbelief.
"Katy Perry is awesome, don't you dare diss her."
"I never said anything about her personally, I just said that I can't sing that high. I'm not a girl." James simply rolled his eyes, grabbing a pair of headphones from his pocket and plugging the jack into the top of the device. The Latino watched as he became absorbed by the music, turning back around to look at the television. Logan had finished, and Carlos saw the scores flash across the bottom. First place, yet again. Smiling, the tan boy started to hum to himself, one of the songs that he gave to James flicking through his memory. He opened his mouth, and began to sing quietly to himself.
"You want somebody, just anybody
to lay their hands on your soul tonight.
You want a reason to keep believin'
that someday you're gonna see the light.
'Cause you're desperate."
Finishing the lyric, the tan boy heard some soft clapping off to the side, turning to see his best friend slowly bringing his hands together.
"I think we have our songs," James smiled, unplugging his headphones and handing the iPod back to Carlos. Blushing, Carlos stuck the object back into his pocket, uttering an almost inaudible thank you. James felt his expression soften even more than before. Carlos, while not being remotely interested in being a music major, had one of the best voices on campus, having been voted "most likely to be a professional singer" by their high school. James hadn't been offended by that, because of course he won "most beautiful/handsome" and "most likely to be famous". Even during puberty, Carlos' voice had remained beautiful, the tan boy not having suffered from the dreaded voice cracks that hit most teenage boys like a sack of bricks. In other words, his singing was nearly always impeccable.
Carlos then realized what his taller friend had said. "Wait, songs?"
"Yeah."
"As in, plural of song? You mean we're doing both?" James nodded, and Carlos bit his lip nervously. He knew that he could sing, but he wasn't exactly an endurance type; even if he had a nice voice, he couldn't sing for hours on end like James could. Even two songs could burn his throat out for the next couple of days if he sang loud like he would have to for their concert. James noticed the nervousness on his friend's face, patting him on the back.
"Carlos, don't freak out, you'll do fine. We'll get everyone together to practice tomorrow, but for now how 'bout a little more of watching your little crush on TV? I hear that he's doing an interview, this is going to be your first and probably only opportunity to ever hear him speak." Carlos' lips turned upward, watching his friend grab a soda from the fridge and sit back down on their couch.
"Unless he read my letter and wants to visit."
"In your dreams."
"No, in my dreams not only does he do that but then he becomes my boyfriend and we grow old together. And we adopt two beautiful children. And we have a whole lot of sex." James choked on his soda.
"Excuse me?"
"What, I just said that me and Logan would have a lot of sex," Carlos repeated, not seeming to understand what James was reacting to.
"Yeah, um, that. Carlos, why are you possibly thinking about sex already with this guy?"
"James, I'm twenty years old, I'm perfectly allowed to have sex by this point." The tan boy's eyes glazed over a little, and he looked down at his feet. "I actually already have…" James put his soda down heavily, staring at his best friend.
"What was that?" Carlos winced at the tone that the taller boy was using.
"I've already had my first James," the Latino echoed his earlier statement. James' eyes widened in disbelief. He was stunned that his best friend had kept such a deep secret from him. Trying to formulate a response, the brunet's mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish.
"B-but Carlos, why do I not know about this? I mean, I would've thought that you're still a virgin." The tan boy sighed, sitting on the couch next to the taller boy.
"I'm not, and I sort of regret having him as my first."
"Your first time was with another guy?"
"Yeah… you remember Garrett, right?" James flinched. Garrett had to be one of the strangest people ever. Short hair, short stature, skin bursting with muscle. In middle school, he had been a sweet, somewhat sickly boy who never created trouble except for when he helped James and Carlos with pranks. In high school, however, he changed. He enjoyed taking his anger out on other people, and everyone in their high school became afraid of him. James swore that he was on steroids, since nobody grew that muscular or changed disposition that quickly without a little "help". But somehow, he, Carlos, and James had been pretty good friends since they had all met in middle school, before Garrett had turned into a raging muscle monster. Snapping out of his thoughts, the pretty boy put his arm around the Latino's shoulders.
"You're talking about the one from the hockey team and from middle school, right?"
"Yeah, that one. Back in Minnesota." Carlos' eyes shone with unreleased tears.
"Please tell me he-"
"He was gay."
"I know that, but-"
"Yes, he was my first. He's the one who 'took my V-card'," Carlos sighed, putting air quotes up around the last few words. "I was only 17 at the time and I was… experimenting." James looked at his best friend. That must be why Carlos didn't come out to James until his eighteenth birthday. He still wasn't sure or secure until that point. "Bi-curious, y'know," the tan boy continued, tears beginning to fall. "I couldn't tell if I actually had feelings for guys or not, and it looks like I kinda liked being on the gay side of the line more than the straight side."
Waterfalls of tears ran straight down the sides of the boy's face. "I regret it. I wish that I had my first time with someone I really love." James was furious with Garrett, but for now he had to keep a strong arm around Carlos, comforting his wailing friend.
"Was he violent about it?" Carlos looked up at him, tears halting a bit.
"No… it was strange. He completely changed during… sex." He had a hard time getting the word out. "He was very passionate and romantic about it. He made sure that I enjoyed every single moment of it, but he is responsible for this." The tan boy pulled the fabric of his shirt off of his shoulder, revealing naturally bronzed skin to his friend. James had seen the scar before, but Carlos had just waved it up as a birthmark before, the tall boy having believed him. There were four small indents on his shoulder, two on the front and two on the back of his shoulderblade, boring somewhat deep into the Latino's skin.
"What happened?" James asked, rubbing the spot lightly. He was surprised when Carlos moaned lustfully when the fingers ghosted over the tan skin. The boy quickly pulled his shirt back over the spot, forcing James' hand to retreat.
"It's the remains of a love bite," Carlos admitted, blushing heavily due to his unintentional noise. "He had a pretty strong jaw, and he managed to leave this behind for the world to see. It's still more sensitive than pretty much any other spot on my body." James' eyes burned with fury at their once-friend. Spotting it, Carlos sighed. "It's fine James," he soothed the pretty boy. "Although I do regret having him as my first, I actually really enjoyed it. He was… skilled, I guess. I can't really think of the correct word for it, so skilled will have to do. Now, how about we stop talking about this? I want to watch that interview."
"…Right."
The television flickered back on, and the two sat in silence as a cheery blond woman began talking to the raven-haired boy's favorite person in the world.
A/N: Yay for character backstory development. I'm very happy with how this turned out for once, but I think that it isn't quite as good as what's coming up in the future.
Anyways, thank you very much to Monocle51, Denahi, JessamineLovelace, Sum1cooler, Lewkis, huyandhieu, duckduck4, squoctobird, ILSK4Ever, SBAgusgus, EmperorIndy, and a-z-a4562 for your reviews, faves, and alerts. I also promised myself that I would apologize to squoctobird for seeming sarcastic at the beginning of last chapter's note; it's not their fault for interpreting it that way, I realized that I write in a very sarcastic manner since that's how my brain is oriented to speak to absolutely everyone, regardless of whether I want it to or not. So, I am sorry for that.
So, in the end thank you for reading, please review, more to come in the future (I'm excited for this story, I have so many ideas). Next chapter may even be up before the weekend is over. Ah well. Have a great night, and have fun doing whatever it is that you all do.