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Despair wasn't something that Carlos was used to feeling. Normally, the generally quiet Latino was either indifferent or bored. His feelings rarely showed, but tonight was an exception.

The evening had started out okay enough, with him heading out with his parents to a nice restaurant to celebrate their anniversary, but then the inevitable happened - his father started drinking. Roman, a recovering alcoholic, had always had a nasty temper when he got drunk and tonight had been no exception. As his lips met glass after glass of alcohol his mood decreased with each sip

Carlos had known that as soon as they went to a place that served alcohol, things would head downhill quickly and his intuition had proved him correct once again. When the younger of the two had tried to let the waiter know that his dad should be cut off, his father had heard and started yelling at Carlos. In a rare fit of temper, the sophomore had told his father to stop drinking, that he was ruining the celebration.

Roman had sneered at him, saying, "Why should you care about my drinking habits? It's not like you're even my real son."

Carlos would have brushed it off if he hadn’t seen the look in his mother’s eyes. That look confirmed that this wasn’t just another one of his dad’s throwaway comments that was meant to hurt him for the moment. With grief rolling through his stomach, Carlos took off to the one place he always knew he could seek solace – his best friend’s place.

The mile between the restaurant and Eli’s house and his own had seemed to be ten. Carlos just couldn’t get to the Jones residence fast enough to suit the pit of misery. While he knew that his family wasn’t the greatest when Roman was drinking, there had been plenty of good times along with the bad and he hated knowing those moments were lies.

When at last he saw a familiar light in Eli’s bedroom, he tapped the window quietly in case Mr. and Mrs. Jones were already asleep.

Carlos threw himself down on Eli’s bed, his shaking hands rising to put his already mussed hair into further disarray. The blue highlights scattered beneath his fingertips as he groaned, “I found out something horrible Eli.”

His normally calm voice was shaky with his upset. Carlos’ mind was in a snare as he stared at his best friend of twelve years. He opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t make his lips form the words. Instead he just turned his eyes to the ceiling and prayed for a moment’s relief.

As Carlos listened to Eli recounting the first time they’d met, he felt tears well up in his eyes. The younger of the two had run away from home in an attempt to not have to listen to his father screaming. Carlos had been upset then, and it had seemed almost natural to finally let his feelings out when he’d seen the raccoon get hit by the car. As traumatic an experience that had been, he hadn’t cried for the poor raccoon, he’d cried for the way his father yelled and screamed at him.

Carlos smiled in a self-deprecating way, wondering if even then his father, no his stepfather had hated him even then. It was funny; he had always run to Eli when things got rough with his family. Carlos recounted the times he had run away from home, remembering how each time the words of wrongdoing had come to his lips.

This time was different, however, and he didn’t know how to let his best friend know. The Jones’ home had become his safe haven and he didn’t know how he could handle bringing the latest of bitter feelings to their doorstep. Closing his eyes, he knew that the only way he could make it right was if he got the hurt out.

“You know how tonight is my parent’s anniversary?” He began softly, his voice halting after the question. Perhaps the telling would be easier if he took it slowly.

Carlos had told his tale and when Eli asked, after several awkward moments of silence, if he would like to spend the night the answer had been an easy decision. After a few moments to clear his throat of the tears clogging his throat, he murmured, “I thought you’d never ask.” He opened his eyes and offered his friend a sad smile. “What would I do without you, man?” He should really get up and take a shower but he honestly didn’t feel like it though his body was coated with grime.

Carlos grinned sheepishly at his friend’s gentle teasing. When the other got up to go get the air mattress, Carlos was about to stand up as well – that is, until Eli decided to kiss his forehead. That… was awkward and somehow, welcome. Odd warmth flushed through his system originating at the place where Eli had kissed him. With a frown knitting Carlos’ brow, he got up and walked to the bathroom.

As he tossed aside his clothing and turned on the water to get it to a temperature he liked, his mind was filled with the memory of Eli’s kiss. The longer he continued to think about it, the longer the water ran and the more that warmth spread. When he finally shook himself out of his reprieve he turned the water toward cold and climbed in with a grimace. What was going on with him tonight?

After he showered and was a little calmer, he dressed in an awkward hurry. Carlos didn’t know what was happening to him but he couldn’t let Eli know the reaction he had had to that kiss. When he was finished he walked back out to Eli's bedroom rubbing his still damp hair with a towel.

As Carlos continued to towel dry his hair, he was oblivious to the presence of his best friend. The half Cuban half/Japanese male was so absorbed with his own thoughts it took him several minutes to become aware of the sound of the pump slowly filling the air mattress. With a start, he dropped the towel from his face and began to blush at Eli. How was he supposed to act? Surely friends didn’t have that sort of reaction to each other – right?

As his silence continued to lengthen, he wondered if Eli would even notice. It wasn’t as if Carlos was a talkative person – he’d learned long ago that if he kept his head down and didn’t make too much noise, he could skate by without causing a fight at home. Then again, this was Eli not some random person he barely knew. They talked about pretty much everything together and somehow things always worked themselves out. Maybe he should just mention that kiss…?

With the air still crowded with awkward feelings, Carlos shrugged his shoulders and lay down on the air mattress. He could bring up the kiss in the morning – tonight was just too dramatic. Maybe in the morning the artist would feel the need to express his confusion aloud – but not tonight. Rolling to where his back was to his best friend, Carlos let his eyes close and pretended to be asleep.