Story dump!

Title: The Argument
Fandom: Interpol
Pairing: Paul/Carlos
Prompt: 34. Not Enough
Word Count: 838
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: I don't particularly like this story, but. It is what it is. If I don't post it I'd have to write another for That Table. I plan on doing another story with the same idea, so I suppose this is a more abstract version of that unwritten story.



Carlos didn't know when it happened, when an experiment in monogamy turned into a real relationship, into love. Somewhere along the line an excuse to keep fucking Paul (always there, never hard to find) turned into something more and he found himself changing. No more faceless boys was one thing, but then it turned into no more leaving Paul at clubs, to no more leaving Paul's line of sight at clubs, to no more unknown substances because he didn't want Paul to worry, to more nights spent at home in monkey-decorated pajamas eating ice cream.

The worst change, the most disturbing change, was that Carlos found himself caring. He'd never cared. It was how he got through life, the philosophy that had forced him through the ugly years of school and all those awful words. He didn't care about anyone and it didn't matter what anyone thought of him. Now, though, he did care. He cared about Paul and cared what Paul's opinion of him was, and Carlos hadn't realized how much it mattered until too late.

It bothered him because he'd changed and Paul hadn't, at least that Carlos could tell. Paul had everything he wanted from Carlos but acted the same as he did before the accursed experiment started. He still constantly picked at Carlos, provoked fights, made Carlos stamp his foot and clench his fists. Teasing, immature words left his mouth just as often as they used to and Carlos found them harder and harder to take. He didn't use to care about what Paul said and now the insults hurt. Carlos knew he was joking but wished Paul would tell him so. He used to be able to laugh off the insults and throw them back. Now they festered and stayed in his head even when Paul came back sweet and breathtakingly, effortlessly beautiful. Carlos could never turn him away.

They'd been on tour for months when he'd finally snapped, going beyond normal Paul-you-rascal annoyance and sending Sam and Daniel scuttling off to hide. Accused Paul of only wanting him for sex, of only caring for his ass, and Paul responded with more mocking of the type that started the argument in the first place. Carlos drew back stung. He was being serious, he was being honest, why couldn't Paul see how momentous that was? He was never that way to anyone, certainly Paul knew that.

Genuinely hurt Carlos talked (shouted) about the changes he'd made for Paul, how good he tried to be because that's what he wanted. Why couldn't Paul ever be nice to him? Why did he always have to be so cruel? He didn't ask the question he most wanted to know- why didn't Paul change too?

And Paul talked about how he always fit around Carlos' life, how he'd shop in foreign cities with him for hours, how he always let Carlos have first pick of the liquor at every show they did. Always he went along with Carlos.

Carlos was quiet for a moment before slumping in defeat. He was wrong, Paul was right and Carlos was crushed not because he lost the argument but because he looked stupid in front of the only person who's opinion mattered. He'd fucked up. He'd been selfish, he'd assumed, and he couldn't imagine why Paul would put up with him. No one in their right mind would put up with him. No wonder Paul was always so cruel. He was right. He was right. When Carlos did speak, focus on the ground, it was nothing more than a quiet apology.

Even Paul could tell that something was seriously wrong, Paul who was always terrible at reading Carlos' mood, who poked and prodded until Carlos snapped something at him, dark eyes flashing and head held high. He scuffed his shoe on the ground, looking uncomfortable, asking Carlos what he wanted from him.

Carlos sighed and felt like crying, wondering when he'd become such a pussy, such a girl, wishing he'd never agreed to try staying with Paul. It made him too vulnerable, too easy to hurt. He wanted to know Paul loved him. He wanted Paul to act like it without being asked. He just wanted Paul to be pleased with him, told him that last thought in a quiet, lost voice.

Paul took the step forward and hugged Carlos close, smoothing a hand over his hair and soothing his mumbled apologies, feeling terrible knowing that Carlos felt so awful. Carlos the bold, the beautiful, Paul always wondered what Carlos saw in him. He always wondered why Carlos hadn't left him for someone better, always woke up afraid that Carlos had come to his senses and gone away for good. Picking on Carlos hid his fear, disguised him as good enough and smart enough, playing playground bully to pretend that he wasn't inadequate. He'd never thought that Carlos would care about his stupid words.

When Carlos kissed him gently Paul held close and hoped that he was still good enough for him.