This is the first Jarlos I've ever written in my entire life and it scares the hell out of me that I actually made it through it. I don't know where this came from. And yeah, I know I should be working on other things, but I've had a really bad block lately and I'm hoping this will change that. Please, read with one thing in mind; I don't know what this is. This literally took me about thirty minutes, and I'm kind of hesitant about even posting it. But I will, because I want the criticism. But, be nice. This is a first for me.
Love is something treasured; something meant to be shared and carried out. Love is something beautiful; something crazy and nearly indescribable. It's the feeling you get when you see someone and you can't breathe because in that moment, they're everything you want and need. It's the moment when you're crying in your bed because you've had a bad day and all it takes is one, simple text from that someone to brighten your entire outlook on the world. It's the "I quit"'s and the "let's give up"'s that are never acted out because you just can't stand being without that someone. Love is a strange, amazing, thing that takes time to build and time to grow. For James Diamond, love had a name and a beauty mark on his chin (the left side of his face, to be exact). For James Diamond, Carlos Garcia had become the epitome of everything perfect and wholesome in the world.
James could spend hours upon hours just holding the smaller boy in his arms, listening to the soft snoring coming from the latino's sleeping form. He would just lay there with Carlos' head on his shoulder, his arm and hand going completely numb with the weight rested on it, but he wouldn't dare move it because then the moment would be over and Carlos would be bouncing all over the house, again.
James could spend hours upon hours just watching Carlos try to wash dishes. He loved watching the boy fiddle with the soap dispenser and end up soaking his shirt and jeans because he forgot that the water was still running. He really liked the moments after that when Carlos would sigh and take his jeans off, deciding to finish washing the dishes in his boxer-briefs. James would always offer to help Carlos clean, but the boy was such a stickler that he'd tell the pretty boy to "just let him do it". And James would never complain as long as he got to keep his eyes on the perfect creature standing in his kitchen.
When the two got into a fight, James had a tendency to always make Carlos cry. The latino would just stare at James in disbelief, shaking his head and trying his best to will the tears back. It never worked, and the boy's confidence would shatter, eyes clouding over and tears staining his tan cheeks. James would immediately regret everything he'd said and pull the sobbing boy against his chest, Carlos trying his best to pry out of James strong arms. He'd eventually give in and just cry until he was nothing but tired, sore eyes and soft sniffles. They would find a spot on the couch, pull a blanket over their bodies and just kiss each other until they forgot about the arguing.
Making love to Carlos was always something James took his time with. He'd kiss the boy all over, taking his time and making sure that not one inch of skin was left unattended to. He'd bite Carlos in all of his favorite places, reducing the latino to a mess of gasps and soft moans and then he'd pull back just enough to look down into the boy's deep Spanish eyes. Carlos would always bite his lip because he knew that it turned James on to see him look so innocent and yet so devious. James would slide himself into the boys waiting body, arms wound tightly around the boy's waist. He'd kiss Carlos' soft lips to still the shaking in the boy's thighs, and then he's press their foreheads together as he worked up a perfect rhythm of pushpullpushpull. When they'd reach their orgasms, the pretty boy would allow Carlos to claw into his back, red lines forming behind the nails that marked his skin. They'd collapse together in a heap of sweaty limbs and erratic breathing all while smiling and sharing deep, passionate kisses. Falling asleep while tangled up in Carlos was the best way to end the day, no matter how many interesting things had occured.
No one made James feel the way that Carlos did, and even as he sat and pondered the many ways that he loved the latino boy sitting beside him on the couch, he could never even begin to grasp the vast amount of emotion he held inside for Carlos Garcia.
Love is finding yourself unable to explain the pitter-patter of your heart when you're around that someone. And no matter how many times James had tried, he'd never been able to express the smile he got on his face when Carlos walked into the room and his heart-rate accelerated. Carlos made everything about love so damn easy, and he didn't even know it.
The latino looked over at James and smiled, winking before returning his attention back to the television. James had everything he'd ever wanted sitting within arms reach, ready and willing to share his life with the pretty boy. And if that wasn't love, James couldn't tell you what was.
Please, please, please; if you never review another thing that I write, please review this one and let me know what you think. Like I said, this was first for me, and I honestly don't know how I feel about writing this pairing yet. But if you like it, I'll keep trying to produce more works with them. Thank you so much for reading!