I gotta have ... jaylos werewolf wed 10 and or 11, u pick who's is H and who is W
How to Love You Today • [AO3]
Teen | 2.3K | Jaylos | Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, Werewolf!Carlos
A/N: Thank you for the inspo, @callous-and-misunderstood! 💖 This fic is set in the same verse as Your Baby Ain't Sweet Like Mine, but it can be read as a standalone. Prompt from here. More notes on AO3!
CW: Mention of fleas, references to poverty/food scarcity, potential emetophobia trigger (non-graphic), and blood mention (minor).
Jay’s halfway out of the bathroom, his shirt half-on and his pants unzipped, hair loose and damp from the shower, when he hears it…
There’s a voice he doesn’t recognize coming from the living room. It takes him a moment to process it’s a recorded voice; he can tell that from the crackle of Carlos’ laptop speakers, now that he’s tuned to it.
“—the species of flea found on dogs is, in fact, a cat flea,” Jay overhears as he’s tugging his shirt down. “How undignified…” He snorts, zips his pants up, then heads for the door, switching the light off as he goes.
“They may be revolting things to look at,” the video continues as Jay is walking down the hall, “but they obviously like each other, because in one month twenty-five fleas can easily multiply to a quarter of a million...”
Jay steps out into the living room, glancing to his right.
He’s not surprised to see Carlos with his ears laying flat back, nearly lost in his curls. He’s snacking on something with an almost robotic rhythm, leaning in toward the screen—the only light in the room—
Perfect atmosphere for a horror movie.
Maybe Jay can convince him to put something on that’s, uh, not this.
“Hey, ‘Los,” he murmurs, coming up behind the couch and bending to nuzzle his nose between Carlos’ ears before kissing him there on the top of his head. “You wanna watch something together? Hmm?”
Carlos vaguely nods, non-committal, his eyes still on the screen.
“Gonna finish this first?” Jay asks, curling one arm loosely around Carlos’ neck, reaching down with the other to swipe a few chips—
“No,” Carlos says suddenly, ears shooting up into an alert position. He twists around to face Jay, which just so happens to knock Jay’s hand away from the bag of chips. “Um, you can pick something,” he offers with a too shy smile that only serves to make Jay suspicious—
Much more at the sound of a crinkle from under Carlos’ tail, which makes Jay realize the bag of chips is no longer in Carlos’ lap—almost like he doesn’t want to share, or—(more likely, Jay thinks)—
He has something to hide.
“Alright,” says Jay with an easy smile, straightening up and coming around the couch to sit with Carlos. “How about… Willie Wonka?”
Jay throws himself down on the couch, making Carlos bounce in his seat; the disturbance causes the chip bag to slide out from under Carlos’ tail and, not so discreetly, his hand moves to push it back—
(“They feed on a diet of fresh, warm blood,” the recorded voice goes on.)
Jay looks at Carlos and Carlos looks at him and they say nothing.
Then, within a hair of the other’s movement, they’ve both leapt up—Carlos, with the bag of chips in hand, trying to scramble away over the back of the couch as Jay grabs for his waist and only succeeds in pulling his pants down to his ankles, since they’re way too baggy—
(He “borrowed” those from Jay, of course. Not like Jay minds it.)
Carlos lands on the carpet behind the couch, rolling onto his back and trying to kick his pants off so he can bolt for the bedroom. He’s not quick enough, since Jay is already on the move, clambering over the couch in hot pursuit, dropping down on Carlos with a feral grin.
“Nice try,” says Jay as he locks his knees in around Carlos’ hips and sinks his butt down enough to keep Carlos from bucking or trying to turn over. “I know you have chocolate, so just hand it over already.”
Carlos says nothing—just bares his teeth, eyes flashing gold.
Jay’s grin fades to an unimpressed stare as he watches Carlos strain to keep the bag out of reach, arms stretched above his head and all his fingers extended to push it as far as he can—which isn’t very far.
But still.
The fact that he’s not playing anymore means Jay isn’t either.
He crosses his arms and regards Carlos seriously. “You promised.”
Carlos’ demeanour changes with just those words. His eyes go dull, his ears droop, and his fingers curl like wilted leaves. He whines, but it sounds more distressed than guilty, which Jay didn’t expect—
He uncrosses his arms as Carlos’ head flops to the side, eyes averted.
That’s a look of surrender if Jay’s ever seen one, but he’s reluctant to accept it. Sighing, he leans forward over Carlos, wanting to at least be sure this wasn’t all over nothing. He grabs the bag and, well—the weight is certainly more than you’d expect from a bag of chips, so…
He pulls back into a straddling position with the bag in hand.
Carlos still won’t look at him.
There’s a bit of a strange smell wafting from the bag. Jay only notices it now that he’s reaching in, shuffling the contents. He squints as he pulls out what appears to be a broken-off piece of jerky, just maybe a little smoother, more processed. Nothing Carlos would usually hide.
Tentatively, Jay puts the jerky in his mouth and starts to chew.
His face warps within a matter of seconds and he goes scrambling off Carlos in a mad dash for the nearest trash can—several feet away in the kitchen. He spits out the jerky, then rushes over to the sink—
Meanwhile, Carlos sits up on the carpet behind the couch, listening to Jay gargling tap water. He can just barely make out his silhouette in the kitchen, against the faint green glow of the appliance clocks.
It’s brighter where he is, with the light of his laptop bouncing off the white wall behind him from where it sits on the coffee table. There’s no sound from it now that the video has stopped playing, though.
That makes the crinkle of the bag seem to echo in the room, even as carefully as Carlos grabs it. He can’t help but wince, not sure what to do except sit and wait and hope that Jay doesn’t ask, doesn’t realize...
But if he does, though, maybe… maybe he should just…
Carlos’ ears start to fold in embarrassment, only to twitch back up at the sound of the tap squeaking shut. Soon, Jay is emerging from the kitchen, wiping his face on his arm with a disgusted expression—
He pauses mid-step, right as Carlos’ ears are folding down again.
There’s an awkward silence where they both look away.
“Uh, sorry,” Jay mumbles, at last, scratching the back of his neck. He stays where he is, but slowly turns his head to look at Carlos again. “You could’ve just… told me it was jerky. I would’ve believed you.”
(Maybe he doesn’t think that’s true so much as he wants it to be…)
(Doesn’t matter, though, since he’s said it. No taking it back now.)
Carlos’ shoulders slouch and Jay feels a surge of guilt, but then, in a dull, quiet voice, eyes downcast, Carlos admits, “It’s—it’s not jerky.”
“Okay,” Jay says carefully, running his tongue over his teeth as he considers where this is going. “But it’s not chocolate, either… right?”
Carlos shakes his head and Jay’s not sure if that’s agreement or not, but he waits on Carlos to explain—which he does, after a moment, speaking through a sigh: “I guess, um, it’s kind of like bacon…”
No, I know bacon, Jay wants to say. Whatever that was, it never oinked.
Instead, he replies, “But... you didn’t want to share?” (Having said that aloud, it sounds pathetic.) “I mean—you were trying to hide it.”
Carlos looks up at him with big eyes, about to say something when Jay cuts in with an airy gesture: “No, hey, you know what? Forget I said anything. You don’t have to explain. I was just worried, and—”
Carlos draws his knees up, curls his tail around his legs, and buries his head in his arms to muffle a half-growl, half-whine of frustration.
That effectively shuts Jay up.
He takes a step forward, concerned, but Carlos suddenly raises his head with a sort of frenzied expression. “They’re dog treats, okay?!”
Jay doesn’t even know how to begin to process that response.
Sure, back on the Isle, every kid had snacked their way through a box or two of milk bones, but—it’s different now. They’re in Auradon!
There’s real bacon in the fridge. There’s steak, chicken, turkey, and fish and all kinds of other things that HAVE to be better than dog food.
Jay runs a hand through his hair and looks around like there might be something to save him from the hole he’s dug. He doesn’t know what to do or say, like—should they talk about this? Should he say it’s okay, and hey, I don’t really get it, but don’t worry, we can go to the pet store together and you can get any treats you want and, yeah, it’s a little weird, but if it makes you happy— I want you happy.
It’s that thought that makes Jay focus back on the moment, back on Carlos, who’s curled up in a ball, dead quiet and rocking slightly—
Suddenly, Jay feels calm. He knows what to do.
He moves slowly across the space and lowers himself onto the floor in front of Carlos, taking a seat cross-legged before he reaches out to brush Carlos’ knee. “Hey, Cee,” he murmurs, with a lilt of question.
Carlos doesn’t raise his head, but he replies with a muffled, “What?”
“Just wondering if you still wanted to watch something with me…”
At that, Carlos does look up, albeit not without raising his tail like a veil over the bottom half of his face. He studies Jay in silence for a moment before he lowers his tail and looks away. “Yeah, I guess…”
“We don’t have to,” Jay hurries to say, reading reluctance in that response. “I mean, if you’d rather get back to your, uh, flea thing…”
Carlos shakes his head vigorously. “Learned enough.” He shudders.
Jay can’t help but crack a smile at that. He stretches an arm out and ruffles Carlos’ curls, right between his two huge fluffy white ears—
“What, you finally run out of room in that big brain of yours?”
Carlos rolls his eyes, butting his head against Jay’s palm in a playful way before he pulls back, grabs the bag he’d set beside him, and—with a side glance at Jay—fists the neck of it before moving to stand.
Jay’s about to get up, too, when Carlos’ laptop goes suddenly idle and the living room is plunged into darkness. “Great,” he grumbles, falling back onto his butt. He feels blindly around for something to orient him until he feels Carlos brush past, patting him on the head.
“I’ll get the light,” says Carlos in a vaguely amused tone.
The lamp comes on some seconds later, and Jay gets to his feet. He brushes his pants off before walking around to the side of the couch, where Carlos has already settled in with the bag of treats in his lap.
Jay slides over the arm of the couch to join him, scooting over into the middle seat so he can sling an arm around Carlos, who glances up at him with a blank expression that slowly melts into a soft smile.
“So, what do you feel like?” Jay asks, reaching for the remote on the coffee table before leaning back into the cushions. He uses his foot to gently shut the lid of Carlos’ laptop before turning the TV on—
“Dunno,” says Carlos, leaning his head against Jay.
“Helpful, thank you,” Jay teases, pulling up the Auraflix menu.
Carlos doesn’t respond. He watches Jay scroll through a carousel of horror movie posters, most of which they’ve already seen. There’s one with a werewolf—fur like his, claws out, maw bloody. That one is new, but Jay scrolls past it quickly—out of the genre entirely, not saying a word. (Stuff like that offends him more than it does Carlos.)
Jay hums to himself as he scans a few titles in the comedy genre.
“Hey, they added Willie Wonka,” he observes with a cheeky grin.
Carlos elbows him in the ribs as his only answer, earning a chuckle from Jay, who continues scrolling. “That one,” Carlos says suddenly.
“With the pirates?” Jay asks, selecting the poster emblazoned Sinbad.
“Mm,” says Carlos, reaching to turn off the lamp on the table beside him. “Kinda looks like you,” he remarks, making Jay snort a laugh—
“Oh yeah? You got a thing for me as a pirate, Cee?”
Carlos huffs and shoves at his shoulder, since Jay’s taken to leaning on him like an overgrown cat. “Changed my mind,” he grumbles as the opening credits begin to roll over deep crimson sails unfurling—
“So, change it back,” Jay pouts, but Carlos just shakes his head.
“Too late,” he retorts, dipping his hand into the treat bag without thinking, eliciting a crinkle. He pauses to look at Jay for some kind of reaction, at which Jay offers a small smile and tightens his hold—
Carlos’ tail, tucked under his bare thigh, gives a twitch of pleasure.
He slips a treat into his mouth and chews it thoughtfully, leaning his head on Jay’s arm and mumbling through his mouthful, “Okay…” He swallows, tilting his chin up to meet curious brown eyes. “You’d be hot as a pirate,” he declares matter-of-factly, causing Jay to grin—
“Yeah? Like, with a parrot and an eyepatch and the whole deal?”
Carlos shakes his head. “No, I like your eyes.”
At that, Jay shifts abruptly from smug to adoring. “I like your eyes,” he murmurs, turning in his seat and leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Carlos’ left eye. “And your ears,” he adds, reaching up to thumb at a sensitive bit of cartilage under white fur. “And yo—”
Carlos shuts him up with a kiss, rough and hasty, but lasting.
Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. <3
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