Chapter Text
The first time Carlos saw Jacob Jensen he was huddling on a bench in the small, withering park two blocks from Carlos' apartment. He looked like a scrawny kid who still hadn't grown into his own long limbs or the loose clothes he wore, nose buried in a scarf and hands shoved deep inside his pockets to stave off the cold. He wasn't dressed anywhere near warmly enough for the weather and looked miserable slouched on the bench, leg bouncing up and down.
He reminded Carlos of a lost puppy.
Carlos had every intention of just walking past, the Styrofoam of his cup only doing so much to keep his coffee from turning lukewarm, but he made the mistake of looking straight at the kid.
A pair of eyes shouldn't be allowed to be that blue.
He tried to ignore the squeeze in his chest, brushing it aside as soon as their gazes unlocked, but he was only able to take two more steps before he slowed to an involuntary halt. When Carlos turned to face the bench the kid snapped to attention, eyes wide behind his round glasses. Carlos saw a brief flash of wariness — or was it fear?
The kid's blond hair was tousled and decidedly unwashed, and Carlos felt a twinge of concern when he noticed the slight discoloration that could only be a fading bruise on the kid's left cheekbone. A laptop bag was slung over his right shoulder and a battered, bloated backpack had been carelessly dumped next to him on the bench.
Before Carlos had time to change his mind, he took a careful step closer — not wanting to spook the poor boy — and held out his coffee cup. A beat of silence passed before the kid dared to reach out, cautiously accepting the offered treat.
Two of his fingers were bandaged.
The kid pulled down his scarf with his free hand, revealing a wide, bright grin that seemed entirely too happy on someone looking so lost and confused.
"Thanks, man. I'm freezing my butt off out here."
Carlos didn't know how to answer and simply offered a weak smile. There wasn't much to add. The kid didn't seem to mind the lack of reply and didn't try to stop Carlos when he turned and continued on his way home. It felt a little weird — he now had no coffee, which meant that the entire walk was for naught — and Carlos had to fight an impulse to glance over his shoulder, to see if the kid was still smiling that smile of his.
Carlos made sure not to look.
It was nothing significant. Just his good deed of the day.
But, deep down, some part of Carlos knew that it was only the beginning.
Carlos told himself that it was completely reasonable to pass through the park again the next day. It wasn't the direct route from his apartment to the grocery store, but it wasn't out of his way, either.
The kid wasn't there. Carlos decided that was probably a good thing — it wasn't safe to sleep outside in the middle of January — and he felt a little guilty for not having thought of that sooner. It hadn't exactly seemed like the kid had a decent place to go, what with the bruises and bandages.
Should Carlos have done more?
Then again, he knew that wasn't his responsibility and that not everyone would accept help just because it was freely given. He tried to push the thought out of his mind. Surely their meeting was just a one-time thing.
Two days later, the kid was there again.
Carlos slowed as soon as he spotted him. It was even colder that day, their breaths small puffs of condensation against the pale, white sky. Carlos didn't like the cold very much and neither did the kid, judging by his expression. Carlos cursed the fact that he didn't have any coffee with him that time; the kid looked like he needed it.
Carlos quickly patted himself down and felt a burst of triumph when he found a chocolate bar in one of his pockets. It was better than nothing, especially since the kid seemed just shy of starving.
Just like before, the boy looked up when Carlos approached but remained seated. The kid seemed cautious even if he probably recognized Carlos. The suspicion was a good thing, since it meant that the kid wasn't gullible or naïve enough to mistake them for friends after one meeting. Being too trusting while looking that vulnerable was a surefire way to get oneself into trouble one wouldn't come out of unscathed.
Like last time there was a slight moment of hesitation before the offering was accepted, but the thankful smile was just as wide. Carlos found that his responding one grew stronger.
"I'm Jake," the kid blurted out just as Carlos made to leave.
He paused, looking at the kid — Jake — who for some reason didn't flinch back like most people did whenever Carlos stared at them. He had figured out long ago that they were unsettled by his silent demeanor. If Jake felt the same, he sure didn't show it.
Carlos wasn't sure what to make of that.
"Carlos," he replied eventually, deciding that the kid deserved that much at least.
Jake grinned, his eyes bright and impossibly blue. "Cool."
Carlos couldn't figure out what else to say so he simply offered a curt nod before continuing on his way home. Jake didn't say anything else and, just like last time, Carlos made sure not to glance over his shoulder as he left.
It was harder than it should have been.
It became a habit to always have something in his pockets, just in case he saw Jake, and Carlos took more walks through the park than he usually would. Jake wasn't there every day but whenever he was Carlos stopped to hand over some kind of treat and Jake offered a trivial comment about the weather or some random fact Carlos knew he would forget about the very same day.
It was still surprisingly nice.
Jake never asked why Carlos was so silent — which set him apart from pretty much every single person Carlos had ever met — and seemed to just accept it without finding it odd or out of the ordinary. Carlos was secretly grateful for that.
What Carlos liked the most was the fact that Jake was always smiling, even if it didn't quite reach his eyes all the time. Carlos suspected that the latter was related to Jake's insistence to keep a certain distance between them at all times, as if there was some kind of invisible line Carlos wasn't allowed to cross. He made sure that he never did.
The still-fading bruises were more than enough for Carlos to get the hint.
The sporadic meetings continued, growing more and more frequent, and Carlos didn't miss that for each day that passed Jake seemed to curl further in on himself, the dark shadows under his eyes becoming more and more prominent. Whatever Jake was up to when he wasn't in the park talking to Carlos was obviously taking its toll.
It began to hurt when Carlos turned to leave. A dull, pulsing ache in his chest that only grew stronger the weaker Jake's smile became.
But Jake never asked him to stay and Carlos didn't know if he was allowed to offer anything more than what he was already giving. He wasn't even sure if he could. He only had about nine days of leave left before he had to report back to base and head out for Fort Benning, and that would most likely be the end of this odd acquaintance of theirs. Jake would probably be gone, one way or another, the next time Carlos came home.
The thought frightened him.
While he was pretty certain that Jake knew how to take care of himself Carlos couldn't help feeling a deep, gnawing worry. Carlos didn't know exactly where the kid came from — Jake's accent was difficult to place, as if he deliberately kept changing it — but he was obviously homeless. Sometimes he had his bags with him to the park, other times not. He usually looked cleaner those times he didn't, so Carlos assumed it meant that he had someplace to stay. But it never lasted more than a day or two.
It was a particularly agonizing kind of torture, watching the bright enthusiasm in Jake's eyes fade slowly but surely over the passing days.
Three days later, Carlos was nearing his limit. He couldn't stand it. Jake looked more dead than alive, his shoulders slumped, his gaze tired and dull and his smile a joyless, cracked grimace. Carlos didn't care if it meant overstepping his bounds; Jake would be gone in an entirely too permanent way if this continued.
Luckily enough for him, Jake finally gave Carlos the opening he had been looking for.
"You know I only come here because you might walk by, right?" Jake pointed out, a faint curl to his lips that couldn't quite be called a smile. He looked exhausted, his two bags next to him on the bench while he huddled against the wind.
Carlos stood a couple of feet away, tossing over a chocolate bar that Jake caught with some effort.
"Sí."
There was a flicker — just a shadow — of that brighter, happier grin.
"Oooh, Spanish. Neat. Although I had kind of figured that out already." Jake's fingers fumbled with the wrapping around the chocolate bar and Carlos had to fight his need to reach out and do it for him. Or just cradle those shaking fingers in his hands until they stopped trembling from the cold.
Jake looked up, just a brief glance as if to confirm that Carlos was still there, within sight but not too close.
"Like the Army thing." Jake gave up on the chocolate bar, stuffing it into his laptop bag before turning his full attention towards Carlos. "You on leave or something?"
Carlos wanted to ask how Jake knew, because he wasn't exactly wearing anything that made it obvious, but decided against it. He nodded instead, fairly certain that he didn't just imagine the sudden tenseness in Jake's posture. Jake, unsurprisingly, pretended it never happened.
"I bet you kick some serious ass." The grin didn't reach Jake's eyes. "You're pretty scary, did you know that? With your silences and stern poker face. Real scary. Well, at least until you smile."
Which naturally made Carlos do exactly that.
"So when are you leaving?"
Carlos' smile faded. Something twisted in his chest at the small trace of vulnerability and apprehension in Jake's voice.
"Six days," Carlos replied. Jake didn't seem to react at first and when he eventually did he had the same false, cracking smile plastered on his face. He was good at hiding things but not nearly good enough to fool Carlos.
"Well, be careful and all that. You never kno—"
"I live close by."
Jake fell silent, blinking in surprise. Perhaps Carlos could have handled that a bit more smoothly.
"Want to come?" Carlos felt stupid for asking but he would rather suffer through that than the knowledge that he had only stood by while Jake suffered.
Jake cleared his throat but he looked cautious rather than nervous.
"Well, I guess if you wanted to ritually sacrifice me you would have done so ages ago." Jake eyed him and Carlos could admit that he felt slightly insulted by the scrutiny, even if he understood it too. There was an unmistakable accusation in it somehow. "And you don't look like the kind of guy who would ask young boy—"
"No," Carlos interrupted harshly. He didn't even want to hear Jake say it out loud. "Not that."
Jake smiled, this time softer — apologetic almost.
"Yeah, I know."
He got to his feet, movements a little sluggish but not hesitant. He didn't seem afraid. Carlos was grateful for that. But he could admit that he was surprised to find that Jake was actually a bit taller than him. The long, gangly limbs and hunched posture had made Jake look a lot smaller, especially since he had only been sitting down up until then.
While Carlos might have wanted to offer to take Jake's backpack he knew better than to try. Jake wasn't stupid and far too suspicious to let a stranger handle his possessions. Which meant that Carlos was forced to hide a wince when Jake stumbled a little under the weight of his two bags and gave a sheepish, embarrassed grin to cover it up. Poorly.
Carlos took the lead without a word, walking towards his apartment at a much more subdued pace than usual. Jake managed to keep up, if only barely, but Carlos knew that if he slowed even further Jake would notice and probably take offense.
"How old are you?" Carlos felt a need to ask.
"Twenty," Jake replied calmly, so expertly delivered that it probably sounded like the truth to most people. Carlos still raised a dubious eyebrow. Jake was definitely not twenty.
The kid seemed horribly insulted by Carlos' skepticism.
"What? I am!"
Jake pursed his lips in response to Carlos' scoff.
"Fine. Eighteen," Jake amended with a pout.
Carlos gave him a deadpan look.
"In four months! So practically eighteen. Like, really soon eighteen," Jake defended indignantly. "You happy now?"
Carlos nodded with a smile and would probably have reached out to ruffle Jake's hair if it hadn't been for the fact that he still wasn't sure if that would be allowed. He didn't want to see Jake shy away, however understandable his aversion to physical contact might be. It was better to just avoid it entirely.
Jake didn't ask how old Carlos was in return but perhaps it didn't matter. As they walked towards Carlos' apartment Jake seemed more interested in explaining the impact the U.S. Army had had on various technological developments over the years. Carlos didn't mind. Jake always seemed the most enthusiastic when he was given an opportunity to spread his sometimes bizarre but also frighteningly vast knowledge of things most people wouldn't even dream to learn about.
It was disarmingly adorable.
Carlos distantly wondered what he had gotten himself into, but felt surprisingly calm. Jake himself wasn't much of a threat to someone like Carlos after all and he had nothing of great value in his apartment. Whatever happened from that point on Carlos was sure that he could handle it.
It wasn't until much, much later that Carlos realized that he might have underestimated how quickly and completely one could get attached to one Jacob Jensen.
If anyone ever asked Carlos wouldn't be able to explain how, when or why Jake moved in with him. He wasn't surprised exactly but he couldn't pinpoint when it had happened either. He just woke up the day he was due back on base and his first thought was that he needed to get Jake a copy of the apartment key before he left.
It troubled him to an extent, that he was willing to give complete access to his home to what was basically a stranger, but just like he had concluded before — there wasn't much in his apartment worth stealing. Carlos was actually pretty certain that Jake's laptop cost more than most of his furniture put together. Which would explain why Jake treated it much like most people would their firstborn.
So in a way Carlos didn't mind. He doubted that Jake would do anything to risk what was essentially the closest thing he had gotten to a home in weeks. Perhaps even months. And Jake wasn't a bad kid. Carlos knew that much after having spent five days in his presence.
All in all, though, Jake was an enigma.
While it was easy to read his moods he was, as a person, essentially unknowable until he stopped trying to be everything at once. Carlos wasn't sure if it was a teenage thing or something uniquely Jake, but Carlos couldn't get a grip on who Jake Jensen really was. It would probably have made him angry if it hadn't been because Jake seemed almost as confused as Carlos felt — perhaps even a little bit desperate.
Jake didn't seem to know who he was either.
It might have been partly Carlos' fault since he put no demands on the kid and thus gave him no clues on what he expected out of him either, but wasn't that how it was supposed to be? Carlos didn't want Jake to be anyone but himself. But it seemed like it would take some time before either of them found out exactly who that was.
During those five days spent together Carlos still learned a couple of things that seemed essential for Jake's existence.
First and foremost, Jake didn't have very high demands on what he needed to feel content. After Carlos fed him, let him borrow his shower and a new pair of clothes Jake fell asleep on Carlos' lumpy couch and was out for a frightening thirteen hours. Carlos was almost a little worried but still remembered what it was like at that age — before the Army had drilled into his very bones that getting up after 5 AM was sleeping in and four hours was considered a sufficient amount of sleep.
Jake sorely needed the rest either way.
Carlos had a hard time holding back a laugh when Jake finally did return to the land of the mostly living and proceeded to stumble around in the apartment, glasses askew, hair in disarray and gangly limbs bumping into doors and walls, often accompanied by confused, keening grunts.
The promise of breakfast and coffee managed to pull Jake back to full awareness. He seemed careful not to overdo it though, eating less than Carlos and not without one or two shifty glances, as if he expected to have the food taken from him without warning. It was difficult to say if the clench in Carlos' chest was because of sympathy for what was apparently a conditioned behavior or anger towards the person responsible for causing it in the first place.
The second thing Carlos learned about Jake was that while he had few earthly possessions his laptop was a necessity. After breakfast, Jake took a seat on the couch and hacked his way into the WiFi belonging to one of Carlos' neighbors. It took days before Jake stopped giving Carlos disappointed, judging looks for not having an Internet connection of his own, but Jake seemed to manage with what he was able to hijack from Carlos' neighbor and that was really the only thing that mattered to him.
It was a work of art to see what Jake could do with a computer, even if Carlos didn't understand half of it. Jake's fingers danced over the keyboard, fluent and graceful now that the bandages had come off, all the while he kept talking happily to Carlos. Jake seemed to finally be in his element, all the hesitation and wariness giving way to a bursting confidence and giddiness that was surprisingly contagious. Anyone else would probably have lost track or been unable to focus on so many things at once, but Jake never faltered, never made Carlos feel ignored and still managed to make sense somehow, even if that in itself was relative considering the kinds of things Jake chose to talk about.
Which lead Carlos to the third thing he learned about Jake: he was terrifyingly intelligent.
It was easy to miss at first, hidden under layers of jokes, fluent personality shifts and a fair share of blatant attempts not to let it show, but Jake was smart. Really smart. Just the sheer amount of information he could keep inside his head made Carlos dizzy.
He never asked Jake about school since it obviously wasn't his place to do so, but he took the liberty of assuming that he had probably graduated from high school already. While Jake was definitely lacking in focus sometimes he could easily have been bumped up several years if the right teacher took notice.
Why Jake hadn't gone to college was a trickier question to answer but once again, it wasn't Carlos' place to meddle.
Fact still remained that Jake was smarter than anyone Carlos had ever known and it made him feel both stupid in comparison and oddly protective. While Jake seemed to possess a near-limitless amount of knowledge he clearly had no idea where to apply it and how. His instincts had trained him to recognize and handle a threat — and he could obviously survive on his own for weeks when necessary — but there was a certain kind of innocence to him still. A frailty that came mostly from his young age and Carlos knew that Jake would hate it if he ever became aware of it.
Jake hated showing any kind of weakness.
And perhaps that was why Carlos decided to let him stay. It wasn't that big of a deal for him anyway. The apartment would be completely empty while Carlos was away and his pay, while not spectacular, could cover the electricity and water without problem.
Jake still seemed hesitant until Carlos, not so subtly, turned it around to make it seem like Jake would be doing him a favor by keeping an eye on the place. Jake undoubtedly saw right through it but was obviously more inclined to accept the offer when it wasn't outright charity. He would still have to find food on his own and while Carlos would definitely worry about that he knew better than to belittle Jake, who had a fair share of pride despite his carefree attitude.
So Carlos had a copy made of his key while explaining — in as few words as possible — what Jake needed to know about the apartment. It felt odd, handing over the responsibility like that, especially to someone so young, but Jake took it seriously. He listened to the instructions and while he smiled and joked like always he seemed to understand the amount of trust Carlos was willing to place in him.
Carlos gave Jake permission to redecorate — there wasn't much going on in those lines anyway — and to use his room for sleeping while Carlos wasn't there. The apartment only consisted of three rooms; a small, cramped bathroom, one bedroom and a joint living room and kitchen. Jake had so far slept on the couch but it felt mean to deny him the softer bed when Carlos would be away for seven weeks. He wouldn't have much use for it anyway.
It felt odd to have someone to say goodbye to.
Carlos wasn't used to it and Jake seemed to find it just as awkward. The kid was fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on and looked so young and small when Carlos was about to leave that he almost considered staying. But that was stupid.
He couldn't waste the opportunity he had been given and especially not for some kid he barely knew. Jake would be fine. Five days of regular meals and shelter from the cold had already done its fair share in putting some color back on his cheeks and for the bruises under his eyes to fade. The joy and brightness in his smiles had returned and while there were still boundaries to consider and a slight wariness in Jake's posture he was doing much better. Carlos might not be able to be there in person but at least he gave Jake a safe place where he could stay.
Jake cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck before grinning a little sheepishly.
"Buena suerte."
Carlos blinked. The pronunciation was a little off but definitely not bad, all things considered. Carlos couldn't help smiling — it was a very sweet gesture after all — and it made Jake look so proud and excited that Carlos was momentarily blindsided. Something squeezed around his heart and it took him a moment to work around the surprising and slightly alarming wave of fondness.
"Gracias," he replied with a soft nod, earning himself another wide, brilliant grin from Jake.
There wasn't much to add after that and Carlos took the opportunity to push open the door and step outside, but he found himself lingering as soon as it closed behind him. He just stood there, bag in hand, staring out into the middle distance without really seeing anything at all.
The warm, happy feeling was still burning in his chest.
What on earth had he gotten himself into?
Sniper training was pretty much what Carlos had expected, but that in no way meant that it was easy. Probably because he hadn't expected it to be.
It was strangely comfortable to lose himself in the routine and training, just going from one task to another, and while he never forgot about Jake the kid wasn't at the forefront of his mind either. It made him worry less, since there wasn't much he could do anyway. Jake was fine.
About three weeks in Carlos received a letter — to his immense surprise. He hadn't done that since his abuela died and he didn't recognize the handwriting. It wasn't until he opened it and started reading that he realized that it was from Jake. A very disgruntled Jake.
Carlos couldn't help grinning like a fool when Jake proceeded to whine about trying to get in contact with Carlos only to find that his phone was shut off which had left Jake with no other option but to write with his hands on a piece of paper. Something he had allegedly not done in several years. Jake made it absolutely clear just how grateful and special Carlos was expected to feel because of it.
Carlos did.
Out of habit he had turned his phone off when arriving at Fort Benning, mostly because he had no one who would want to call, completely forgetting that he had given Jake his number, just in case anything happened with the apartment. Luckily enough that was not the case, Carlos found out as he continued to read, but there were news all the same.
Jake had apparently managed to get a job at a local computer store in the time Carlos had been gone. There was no mention of how but Carlos assumed it had involved a lot of nagging and possibly one or two instances of blackmail. Still, he was happy for the kid and felt a lot calmer knowing that as long as Jake remained responsible with what he earned he would have food to eat.
Despite Jake's obvious reluctance to use something as old-fashioned as the regular postal service the letter was surprisingly lengthy and Carlos felt a pinch of what he under normal circumstances might have considered to be homesickness. But this wasn't a normal situation and he barely even knew the kid. Carlos hadn't felt homesick in years, mainly because his apartment wasn't much of a home to begin with. That hadn't changed.
But he couldn't deny that Jake's erratic, rambling letter — so much like the way he spoke in person — made him smile long after he had stopped reading.
It surprised him that Jake had included a short segment about his sister Jess, which Carlos assumed was short for Jessica, because if there was one thing Jake never talked about it was his family. Half of the time he made it sound like he didn't have any parents, even if Carlos was pretty certain that they were the ones Jake had run away from in the first place. He had never asked of course but there were too many consistent rules dictating Jake's behavior to be the work of a foster family. It must have taken years for his reactions to become as instinctual as they were now.
Like how Jake, despite his enthusiasm, automatically cut himself off mid-sentence as soon as Carlos showed the smallest sign of perhaps replying. Or the way he would always wait a couple of seconds after Carlos had started eating before picking up his fork to do the same. Not to mention the bruises and his need to have a physical distance between himself and other people at all times.
Someone had put a lot of effort into trying to keep Jake in line and apparently not been afraid to use violence as a motivator for him to learn.
Jess was obviously a safer topic. Jake was very proud of her and how her hard work had earned her a scholarship that funded her college education. She didn't seem connected to whatever Jake had suffered through — or at least not a direct part of it — and Carlos was glad to find that Jake had someone who cared about him. She had, according to Jake, been very relieved to hear that her little brother had steady employment and a place to stay.
Carlos couldn't help wondering what Jake had told her about him, if anything at all.
The direct result of Jake's letter was that Carlos turned his phone back on. He got Jake's number from the straggling texts that could finally be delivered and sent a reply informing Jake that he would make sure to leave his phone on this time.
He should probably have expected the landslide of texts he received in response, but could only smile fondly as he read through them. Jake didn't seem to care that Carlos couldn't possibly keep up and reply to even half of the things Jake said, and seemed completely content just knowing that Carlos now read them. Which was basically how most of their conversations played out. Jake didn't mind that Carlos didn't answer as long as he knew that he had at least a part of Carlos' interest.
Jake wanted attention and validation more than he wanted someone to talk to.
So Carlos left his phone by his bunk and read whatever texts Jake sent as soon as he got the chance. Sometimes he replied, other times he didn't. But fact remained that it was somehow easier to wake up in the morning knowing that there would be at least one or two stray messages from Jake to read, sent sometime during the night. It made him embarrassingly happy.
And, before he knew it, Carlos really did feel homesick.
So perhaps he did have a home after all.
Carlos wasn't sure what to expect when he stepped inside his own apartment. Jake hadn't given any specifics on what he had been doing in terms of redecorating, but the questions about Carlos' favorite color and his stance on leopard print — a big, resounding no — left no doubts about Jake having been up to something. The question was if this something meant that Carlos would feel more inclined to just turn right back around or not.
Most people would probably consider him to be slightly insane — or at the very least masochistic — for giving someone like Jake permission to alter his living space, but the fact was that Carlos was very curious to see what Jake would do with it. Jake might have a bursting personality and seemed to enjoy color combinations that would put a rainbow to shame but he was also far from inconsiderate. He wouldn't ruin Carlos' apartment for the sake of his own amusement.
And all in all it wasn't bad. A small desk for Jake's laptop and other technological gadgets, three soft-looking pillows on the couch, a fluffy rug and some posters on the walls. Granted that they seemed to be from movies and video games Carlos had never even heard of, but Jake still earned himself more interior decorating points than Carlos on account of getting actual curtains for the windows. That matched the couch pillows and rug, no less. There were also surprisingly realistic-looking plastic potted plants on the window sill.
Carlos couldn't see his bedroom from where he was standing but he assumed it would be similarly discreet, if Jake had made any changes at all.
The place looked more lived in than it ever had. That was partly because Jake clearly wasn't as tidy as Carlos could be — there were a couple of things strewn across the floor and most flat surfaces — but given the fact that Jake had been there for seven weeks, it was kind of expected. He had to put his things somewhere and Carlos spotted Jake's stuffed backpack in one corner, clearly serving as some kind of alternative storing space for clothes in lack of an actual closet.
"Carlos! Hi!" Jake sounded exuberant as he came bouncing out from the bedroom, clutching what seemed to be a pile of sheets. Jake's hair was longer than Carlos remembered but the wide, bright grin was the same. "I was just changing the sheets. Forgot to do it earlier. Good to see you! Trip go okay? There's some takeout from yesterday if you're hungry. And there are towels if you want to shower. I bought new towels, did I mention that? Love the hat, by the way — really nice touch."
It was a miracle that Jake could walk while talking that fast.
The thought had barely crossed Carlos' mind before Jake nearly tripped on the edge of one of the sheets and banged his shin against the coffee table. Carlos winced in sympathy while placing his duffle on the floor, holding back a smile when Jake seemed to do his best not to curse up a storm.
"Alright. Ow," Jake muttered through gritted teeth before somehow managing a grin the next second. It was a little dopey but undeniably delighted. "Hi. Sorry. Glad to have you back."
That thing — the squeeze around Carlos' heart — returned tenfold. It made it a little harder to breathe.
"Did the super secret sneaky sniper training go well?" Jake seemed a little dazed and if it wasn't for the fact that Carlos knew his ways by then he would have suspected drugs to be involved somehow. Jake was clutching the sheets to his chest, clinging to them in a way that was possibly a little worrying, but Carlos didn't know why and therefore decided not to ask. Although perhaps he should; Jake's knuckles were turning white.
"Sorry, I talk a lot," Jake blurted out, as if Carlos didn't already know that. But it also made Carlos realize that he hadn't said a word since returning and it was obviously making Jake nervous. "I bet you're tired and don't want to listen to me babbling so I'll just—" Jake cut himself off, looking a little sheepish, but Carlos didn't miss the haunted glimmer in his eyes. The way Jake's shoulders were stiff with tension.
While Carlos couldn't quite read what thoughts were flashing through Jake's head they were clearly becoming increasingly panicked. So he made sure to smile, trying to show that he wasn't angry.
"It went well."
Jake relaxed a fraction.
"Yeah?"
Carlos nodded, feeling a little awkward. A part of him knew that he should probably say something else but he couldn't really think of what. Jake seemed to recover quicker.
"That's great! So you're like a super badass sniper now?" Jake dumped the sheets on the far end of the couch while Carlos shrugged. He had passed but he was willing to bet that Jake wasn't quite aware of what it meant; the unglamorous, morbid truth of it. Jake snapped his fingers. "We should celebrate, right?"
Carlos wasn't sure if it was good taste celebrating that he was now trained in long-distance eliminations but he could appreciate the gesture. And the fact that Jake was so excited on his behalf. He was just a kid who didn't seem to have had a lot of human contact in the weeks Carlos had been gone and the same could, to a certain degree, be said about Carlos.
So really, why not?
He smiled and nodded towards the door, Jake beaming at the obvious agreement.
"Sweet! I'm buying!" Jake bounded over to get his jacket while Carlos raised a dubious eyebrow. Jake scoffed. "Yeah, I totally am. You shouldn't pay for your own celebratory dinner."
Carlos disagreed but settled for rolling his eyes. Jake was pretty much jumping on the balls of his feet from excitement, tumbling out the door with a wide, brilliant smile on his lips.
"So that's going to be a thing now, is it?" Jake asked, nodding towards the hat Carlos had gotten a habit of wearing. It had limited the amount of distractions during his weeks in training so he had decided to keep it, for practical reasons if nothing else.
Carlos shrugged before locking the door behind them.
"I like it." Jake nodded seriously. "I think it's cool. Suits you. Makes you look even more badass, you know?"
Jake bumped their shoulders together when Carlos came up next to him. Carlos was admittedly surprised since Jake usually kept a discreet distance between them, but made sure not to let it show. He just smiled when Jake rushed ahead, practically skipping down the stairs. He stopped on the next landing, looking up at Carlos with a sneaky, mischievous glint in his eyes, glasses slipping low on his nose and hair in an adorably ruffled, blond mess.
"So what are the odds that you'll let me buy a beer with that fake ID that I, in case you're wondering, totally don't have because if I did you would probably take it from me?"
Carlos gave him a deadpan look.
"Non-existent." Jake was still smiling, though. "Got it."
Carlos couldn't help chuckling as he began to descend the stairs, Jake speeding ahead while tossing out ideas on where they should eat over his shoulder. The kid was vibrating with joy. It was practically impossible not to be endeared by Jake and his enthusiasm and Carlos wasn't even trying to fight it. That feeling in his chest — the warm, thrumming fondness — was something Carlos hadn't felt in a long time and he wasn't going to let it go. Not if he could help it.
But he was definitely going to confiscate that fake ID when they got back to the apartment.
It took them a while to find a routine that worked for them. Those five days having shared Carlos' apartment before his sniper training were far behind them and since then Jake had settled in and gained his own understanding of how he wanted things to be done. None of them were outrageous or inconvenient but it took some adjusting.
Carlos left earlier than Jake in the mornings and it was actually difficult to tell if he managed to sneak out without waking the kid half of the time. Even when Jake was sprawled on the couch, breaths deep and even, he seemed tense, as if he was just waiting for something to jolt him awake. Carlos felt guilty about it even if he knew that it wasn't his fault.
Jake was usually home before Carlos in the evenings and as such seemed to voluntarily shoulder the responsibility of making sure that there was some kind of food prepared. Some days Carlos would have preferred if he didn't, because while Jake was a genius when it came to many things cooking was not one of them. But Carlos was definitely too nice of a guy to say so out loud, even if his silences spoke an entire language of their own sometimes. Jake never took his failures as something bad though, only opportunities to improve, which was a surprisingly mature outlook if Carlos was to be honest, and not one he had expected to find in a spastic seventeen-year-old.
He wasn't entirely sure why Jake insisted on cooking real food — especially after he almost set the kitchen on fire twice in as many days — but it, like so many other things when it came to Jake, was endearing. Mostly because Carlos suspected that it was for his benefit; that Jake wanted him to have something nice to come home to. So while the food didn't always taste well — or at all on some occasions — Carlos braved through it. Besides, Jake was getting better the more he practiced. Marginally.
They never spoke about how long Jake would be staying, even if it was a small apartment to share with someone now that Carlos was back. It took about four days before Jake stopped giving Carlos covert glances and started to relax again, as if he had honestly expected Carlos to just kick him out all of a sudden.
Carlos could admit that it was trying sometimes — he was a very private person and had grown used to being alone — and Jake wasn't exactly subtle. Or quiet. But Jake usually seemed to notice when the chatter was getting too much and backed off before Carlos had time to get truly annoyed. It was almost disturbing how well Jake could read him, picking up on not only the small nuances of his various moods but the subtle cues in his body language as well. Jake never seemed to need Carlos to speak actual words to understand him since he read entire sentences in everything Carlos did. No one had ever been able to do that, except Jake.
No one outside of Carlos' family had ever seemed devoted enough to try.
All in all, though, Carlos liked having Jake around. Just because Carlos himself was silent didn't mean that he was necessarily averse to noise and it was strangely comforting to hear Jake move around in the apartment, humming or singing to himself. Carlos had no idea how one person could know so many song lyrics from so many different genres, including everything from The Beatles to Ke$ha.
More often than not Carlos got the distinct impression that Jake was an entirely different species than the rest of them, but in the best way imaginable.
It was nice to have something to ground him when he came home and Jake did that beautifully with his infectious smiles and excited chatter. Carlos knew that it was only a matter of time before he was sent out on a mission, but until then they settled in quite nicely together, even if it wasn't perfect by any means. They were still two fundamentally different people and there were some things neither of them could control. Like the first time Jake flinched away from Carlos in fright.
It was an accident, pure and simple, starting with a coincidence.
Both of them were standing in the kitchen area on Sunday morning, Jake talking a mile a minute about everything and nothing like usual and Carlos reached out to open one of the upper cabinets just as Jake turned his head, obviously catching the movement in the corner of his eye.
His reaction was instantaneous.
Jake recoiled, ducking as if to avoid a blow, his back slamming into the fridge with a dull thud. A glass tipped over the edge of the counter, shattering on the floor, and Carlos had to fight his instincts to reach out towards Jake. That would only make it worse.
It happened so fast — just a fraction of a second was all it took — and the silence that followed it was deafening, disturbed only by Jake's harsh, shallow breathing.
Carlos' heart ached. He knew it was a reflex Jake had no control over but it stung all the same. Carlos would never try to hurt Jake, not like that, and he desperately wished that just saying so would make it better somehow. But he knew it wouldn't.
Carlos weighed his options, knowing that he couldn't just stand there and stare at the poor kid — who looked both terrified, guilty and embarrassed — and eventually settled for crouching down to pick up the biggest pieces of the broken glass. It was easier to just focus on being practical.
"I-I'm sorry. I'll— I'll pay for that. Sorry. I'm sorry." Jake's voice wobbled, sounding small and urgent, desperately keen to keep the situation from escalating. Another defense mechanism. A way to avoid punishment if possible, as if Carlos would ever do something like that.
Carlos almost closed his fingers around the sharp shards in his hand. He wasn't angry — not at Jake — but an overwhelming, biting fury was burning in his chest all the same. But he wasn't going to let that show. Jake was not going to have to see that.
"You already did," he said, voice low and careful.
"Huh?" Jake still had his back pressed against the fridge, obviously too tense to move. But that was probably just as well. He was barefoot and there was broken glass on the floor.
Carlos glanced up, smiling softly.
"These glasses." He straightened, dumping the broken glass in the sink for now. "You bought them."
Jake blinked in incomprehension until Carlos' words finally hit home. Then he chuckled — a strained, choked sound — his gaze flickering, not quite able to meet Carlos' eyes.
"I guess I did..."
Carlos held up his hands, making sure to keep his movements slow as not to startle Jake again, before taking careful steps around the few, smaller shards that remained.
"Stay."
A quiet snort from Jake.
"You're barefoot too, you know," Jake pointed out. Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Alright, fine, you are a stealthy sniper and I'm not, I get it. But I'm not going to stand here like a moron. Just let me step over it and I'll help you clean it up."
Jake held out his hand, waving for Carlos to take it, and Carlos made sure not to hesitate before doing so. He knew what Jake was trying to accomplish though. He was proving to himself that he actually could do it; that he wasn't afraid of touching other people. Carlos let him. If it made Jake feel better he would comply without a complaint.
Jake crossed the distance in one long stride, ending up standing closer to Carlos than ever before, their hands still interlocked. Jake seemed to be staring down at them, gnawing on his bottom lip. Carlos, on the other hand, was suddenly struck him how ridiculously long Jake's eyelashes were.
"I'm sorry..." Jake sounded miserable and ashamed, as if he actually had anything to feel ashamed of. Carlos couldn't have that.
"No te preocupes."
Jake's soft laugh was surprising but not unwelcome. He met Carlos' gaze.
"I'm going to have to learn Spanish if I want to stick around, aren't I?"
Carlos tilted his head a little to the side before smiling, squeezing Jake's hand.
"Sí. But don't worry." Carlos held Jake's gaze, wanting to convey just how sincere he was. "I'll help you."
There was no mistaking that Carlos might be talking about more than just the Spanish. Jake seemed to swallow before nodding with a frail, trembling little smile.
"Yeah, I know. Thanks."
"De nada."
Jake finally seemed able to relax.