Fic - The Hardest Hue to Hold
Title: The Hardest Hue to Hold
Author: madwomanpoems
Fandom: Big Time Rush
Pairings: James/Carlos
Rating: G, PG, whatever
Warnings: feelings, fluff, marshmallows
Disclaimer: I don’t own Big Time Rush or the Robert Frost Poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay,” from which I took the title.
Summary: James and Carlos go camping.
Author’s note: This is for jesterdala’s birthday. Also, this is a late present. For which I am sorry. But as I say, better late than never and this author’s note is kind of making it later, so, onward ho!
"Uh, Carlos, are you sure that this is a good idea?"
James didn't really think that it sounded like too terrible of an idea, because it was just camping, and they weren't very far from Carlos' house if there was an emergency. Really, if he squinted, he could see Kendall's tree house, too. It was just that Kendall and Logan wouldn't come with them.
Usually, when Logan thought something was a bad idea, James just accepted it as such.
But that morning, Carlos had shown up on his doorstep looking like a puppy dog with a tent in one hand and a wagon full of supplies in the other. Even though James' gut told him that going anywhere with Carlos and a utility knife and matches was a bad idea, he just couldn't say no to the boy. He was at his mom's house that weekend anyway. She'd spent the majority of the day screaming at her assistant over the phone; he had no desire to eat dinner with her, to say the least.
So they'd scrambled over to the woods behind the Garcia's house and set up a camp as deeply into the forest as their intuition told them was a good idea.
James was relatively sure that Kendall and Logan would have told them that they were in too deep.
James heard a crash before he could think too much about the possibility of being eaten by bears; he had to rescue Carlos from where he was tangled in a tent.
--
Carlos had started a small fire in the clearing they had made, the way his brothers had taught him. James was a little leery, but Carlos' brother was a fireman. And James had lit the match.
"So," Carlos said, sitting on a folding chair, roasting his hands by the fire in the chilling summer air, "uh, thanks for coming James."
"No problem, buddy. Why wouldn't I come camping with my best friend?"
Carlos looked up from the flames with his brown eyes melting like the chocolate in a s’more. "You mean that?"
James was a little taken aback by the question and all its sincerity. James was always a little startled by Carlos' sincerity and the way it made his heart pound like it would break through the muscles of his chest.
"Why wouldn't I mean it?"
"I don't know. Being friends with you is different than being friends with Kendall or even Logan. It's just-- different. In a good way..." he paused for a beat, like he was a hunting dog listening to the wind, trying to smell something he wanted in the distance. "Is it... different for you too?"
James loved Carlos, when he was like this, the same way he loved flopping on the ground after hockey practice or a long run. It was a secret high that no one else felt. It was like being buzzed and half asleep without anyone seeing him smoke up. It was having no regard for anything but the moment. It was something that made him shake with excitement and lulled him close to sleep with comfort like a warm bath.
James wrapped an arm around him, "Yeah, Carlos, it's different for me."
Carlos settled back into his chest and watched the smoke curl up. They'd had two-a-days for the last week, and Carlos drifted off to sleep in his arms, snoring so softly that James wasn't sure if it was just the wind. James' eyes were stinging in a mix of exhaustion and irritation from the smoke. For just a second, as Carlos curled into him, he succumbed to their will and let them fall shut.
--
When he woke up, the fire had burnt out and he was starting to shiver in his shorts and t-shirt. Carlos was shaking a little in his arms.
"'Arlos," he mumbled, "wake up."
"Wuh-whu-why?" he startled, almost falling into the ashes from the fire.
"'S cold."
When they had wrapped themselves in flannel and covered themselves in blankets, they were finally awake enough to talk some more. For the sake of warmth, they were laying with their sides flush against each other.
For the sake of warmth, James repeated over and over in his head. But Carlos was mumbling happy words in his sleep and curling father into James. A faint gust blew into the tent and across James’ face; it was just enough that the moment felt real and not like some sort of demented dream.
“James?”
“Yeah, Carlos?”
“You know I didn’t ask Logan or Kendall to come, right? I just, I thought maybe you’d want out of your house tonight. I just didn’t ask them. I… I mean, I only asked you.”
Every time James tried to say something back to Carlos, the words got caught up in his throat. Instead, he just squeezed his shoulders and pulled him in even closer.
--
When the sun poked through the slit of the tent, it hit Carlos square in the face and he jolted wide-awake and tangled up in James. Every muscle in his body was aching from hockey practice, but there was a sense of calm the way there only ever was in the morning. There was a happiness that only comes from being around James.
He surveyed their bodies, a mess of gangly arms and legs and tan skin meeting tan. Carlos thought about what everyone else might say about the way they’d laid together all night. He thought about getting up and running away, but his body hurt, and so what if a squirrel saw him snuggling a boy in a tent.
Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, Carlos shut his eyes and stroked James’ hair gently out of his face. Carlos didn’t care about anything as much as he caresd about the way James breathed on his neck while he slept or the way his eyes looked when he woke up.
He looked over at James and the way his muscles stretched up the length of his arms, tapering down to the pool of veins at the base of his wrists. Carlos swallowed hard against something that built up in his throat, and took deep breaths in a ridiculous attempt to calm his beating heart.
--
When James woke up, Carlos insisted that they eat breakfast outside. Carlos always insisted on eating breakfast, and he always insisted on making other people eat with him. He said it was something like “food being love and being something that you shared with other people.”
But James wouldn’t have cared why. James could never quite care why Carlos wanted him around, just that he did.
When Carlos finished the granola bar that James packed, he spit oats on the ground.
“That tastes like chalk,” he said, walking into the tent.
James talked around his own mouth full, “It’s good for you.”
Carlos came back with a silly expression on his face, like James was the most ridiculous person in the world. He also came back with the left over marshmallows from the night before.
James shook his head as Carlos assembled a makeshift fire to melt his s’more, even if he did use the fire to nurse the cold out of his fingers.
“You’d be warmer if your gloves had fingers,” Carlos said just before he took a bite. The molten marshmallow oozed out between the crackers and James swallowed hard as Carlos licked it off of his fingers.
“You’d be less obnoxious if you didn’t eat so much sugar.”
Before James knew it, Carlos had flung himself from his seat and was flying towards him. They wrestled and grappled on the ground for a few minutes, until James knew that his hair was disgusting and was trying not to gag when he thought about what exactly he rolled over and squished with his back. Finally, Carlos managed to pin him and hold one of his arms to his side.
James looked up and saw a smudge of marshmallow goo sticking to Carlos’ cheek. He reached up and wiped it off, and felt like something was breaking in his chest as Carlos closed his eyes and let his head sink into James’ hand. He wanted to grab Carlos’ neck and pull him close, but something in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t let him because of Carlos’ big fawn eyes and innocence.
As he pulled his hand down from Carlos’ face and licked the marshmallow off of his fingers. They sat in silence for a long time while James felt like the granola bar might work its way back up its throat.
Carlos rolled off of him and smiled like the cat that caught the canary, “You rolled on a snail.”
James let out a loud scream that echoed through the woods and ran around, trying to fling the slug guts off of his back.
“You are such a wuss,” Carlos snickered, wiping the snail off of James’ back.
Author: madwomanpoems
Fandom: Big Time Rush
Pairings: James/Carlos
Rating: G, PG, whatever
Warnings: feelings, fluff, marshmallows
Disclaimer: I don’t own Big Time Rush or the Robert Frost Poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay,” from which I took the title.
Summary: James and Carlos go camping.
Author’s note: This is for jesterdala’s birthday. Also, this is a late present. For which I am sorry. But as I say, better late than never and this author’s note is kind of making it later, so, onward ho!
"Uh, Carlos, are you sure that this is a good idea?"
James didn't really think that it sounded like too terrible of an idea, because it was just camping, and they weren't very far from Carlos' house if there was an emergency. Really, if he squinted, he could see Kendall's tree house, too. It was just that Kendall and Logan wouldn't come with them.
Usually, when Logan thought something was a bad idea, James just accepted it as such.
But that morning, Carlos had shown up on his doorstep looking like a puppy dog with a tent in one hand and a wagon full of supplies in the other. Even though James' gut told him that going anywhere with Carlos and a utility knife and matches was a bad idea, he just couldn't say no to the boy. He was at his mom's house that weekend anyway. She'd spent the majority of the day screaming at her assistant over the phone; he had no desire to eat dinner with her, to say the least.
So they'd scrambled over to the woods behind the Garcia's house and set up a camp as deeply into the forest as their intuition told them was a good idea.
James was relatively sure that Kendall and Logan would have told them that they were in too deep.
James heard a crash before he could think too much about the possibility of being eaten by bears; he had to rescue Carlos from where he was tangled in a tent.
--
Carlos had started a small fire in the clearing they had made, the way his brothers had taught him. James was a little leery, but Carlos' brother was a fireman. And James had lit the match.
"So," Carlos said, sitting on a folding chair, roasting his hands by the fire in the chilling summer air, "uh, thanks for coming James."
"No problem, buddy. Why wouldn't I come camping with my best friend?"
Carlos looked up from the flames with his brown eyes melting like the chocolate in a s’more. "You mean that?"
James was a little taken aback by the question and all its sincerity. James was always a little startled by Carlos' sincerity and the way it made his heart pound like it would break through the muscles of his chest.
"Why wouldn't I mean it?"
"I don't know. Being friends with you is different than being friends with Kendall or even Logan. It's just-- different. In a good way..." he paused for a beat, like he was a hunting dog listening to the wind, trying to smell something he wanted in the distance. "Is it... different for you too?"
James loved Carlos, when he was like this, the same way he loved flopping on the ground after hockey practice or a long run. It was a secret high that no one else felt. It was like being buzzed and half asleep without anyone seeing him smoke up. It was having no regard for anything but the moment. It was something that made him shake with excitement and lulled him close to sleep with comfort like a warm bath.
James wrapped an arm around him, "Yeah, Carlos, it's different for me."
Carlos settled back into his chest and watched the smoke curl up. They'd had two-a-days for the last week, and Carlos drifted off to sleep in his arms, snoring so softly that James wasn't sure if it was just the wind. James' eyes were stinging in a mix of exhaustion and irritation from the smoke. For just a second, as Carlos curled into him, he succumbed to their will and let them fall shut.
--
When he woke up, the fire had burnt out and he was starting to shiver in his shorts and t-shirt. Carlos was shaking a little in his arms.
"'Arlos," he mumbled, "wake up."
"Wuh-whu-why?" he startled, almost falling into the ashes from the fire.
"'S cold."
When they had wrapped themselves in flannel and covered themselves in blankets, they were finally awake enough to talk some more. For the sake of warmth, they were laying with their sides flush against each other.
For the sake of warmth, James repeated over and over in his head. But Carlos was mumbling happy words in his sleep and curling father into James. A faint gust blew into the tent and across James’ face; it was just enough that the moment felt real and not like some sort of demented dream.
“James?”
“Yeah, Carlos?”
“You know I didn’t ask Logan or Kendall to come, right? I just, I thought maybe you’d want out of your house tonight. I just didn’t ask them. I… I mean, I only asked you.”
Every time James tried to say something back to Carlos, the words got caught up in his throat. Instead, he just squeezed his shoulders and pulled him in even closer.
--
When the sun poked through the slit of the tent, it hit Carlos square in the face and he jolted wide-awake and tangled up in James. Every muscle in his body was aching from hockey practice, but there was a sense of calm the way there only ever was in the morning. There was a happiness that only comes from being around James.
He surveyed their bodies, a mess of gangly arms and legs and tan skin meeting tan. Carlos thought about what everyone else might say about the way they’d laid together all night. He thought about getting up and running away, but his body hurt, and so what if a squirrel saw him snuggling a boy in a tent.
Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, Carlos shut his eyes and stroked James’ hair gently out of his face. Carlos didn’t care about anything as much as he caresd about the way James breathed on his neck while he slept or the way his eyes looked when he woke up.
He looked over at James and the way his muscles stretched up the length of his arms, tapering down to the pool of veins at the base of his wrists. Carlos swallowed hard against something that built up in his throat, and took deep breaths in a ridiculous attempt to calm his beating heart.
--
When James woke up, Carlos insisted that they eat breakfast outside. Carlos always insisted on eating breakfast, and he always insisted on making other people eat with him. He said it was something like “food being love and being something that you shared with other people.”
But James wouldn’t have cared why. James could never quite care why Carlos wanted him around, just that he did.
When Carlos finished the granola bar that James packed, he spit oats on the ground.
“That tastes like chalk,” he said, walking into the tent.
James talked around his own mouth full, “It’s good for you.”
Carlos came back with a silly expression on his face, like James was the most ridiculous person in the world. He also came back with the left over marshmallows from the night before.
James shook his head as Carlos assembled a makeshift fire to melt his s’more, even if he did use the fire to nurse the cold out of his fingers.
“You’d be warmer if your gloves had fingers,” Carlos said just before he took a bite. The molten marshmallow oozed out between the crackers and James swallowed hard as Carlos licked it off of his fingers.
“You’d be less obnoxious if you didn’t eat so much sugar.”
Before James knew it, Carlos had flung himself from his seat and was flying towards him. They wrestled and grappled on the ground for a few minutes, until James knew that his hair was disgusting and was trying not to gag when he thought about what exactly he rolled over and squished with his back. Finally, Carlos managed to pin him and hold one of his arms to his side.
James looked up and saw a smudge of marshmallow goo sticking to Carlos’ cheek. He reached up and wiped it off, and felt like something was breaking in his chest as Carlos closed his eyes and let his head sink into James’ hand. He wanted to grab Carlos’ neck and pull him close, but something in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t let him because of Carlos’ big fawn eyes and innocence.
As he pulled his hand down from Carlos’ face and licked the marshmallow off of his fingers. They sat in silence for a long time while James felt like the granola bar might work its way back up its throat.
Carlos rolled off of him and smiled like the cat that caught the canary, “You rolled on a snail.”
James let out a loud scream that echoed through the woods and ran around, trying to fling the slug guts off of his back.
“You are such a wuss,” Carlos snickered, wiping the snail off of James’ back.