And All Your Hurt
i wrote more carsel (no one is surprised) the title is from coldplay's new song atlas ("[i'll] carry your world and all your hurt") and this is basically almost-boyfriends carsel hurt/comfort
pairing: carsel words: 1612 rating: pg-13 (for mentions of violence/bullying)
It’s a Saturday afternoon and Carson and Russel are in Russel’s room, studying. Well, Russel’s studying; Carson’s just staring at him. He doesn’t mean for it to keep happening, but there’s something about the way Russel looks when he’s talking excitedly about the all the Chemistry they’re supposed to know for their next test…
The worst part is it’s not even difficult to keep Russel from noticing his staring. Normally Carson has to be way moresubtle to keep him from noticing the whole I-think-I-have-feelings-for-you-and-it’s-scaring-me thing, but now Carson has an excuse to just stare at Russel. After all, Russel knows a lot more about Chemistry than he does, and he’s probably going to be the reason he gets a good grade on this test. That is, if Carson can actually focus… He’s working on it.
When Russel stops talking, Carson is able to focus again, and it’s lucky he does. Russel’s twisted around, looking at something in his sticky-note covered textbook on the bed behind him. Carson’s immediately drawn to a bright yellow sticky-note that must’ve fallen and gotten stuck on Russel’s lower back.
Carson reaches out to take it off. “Hey, you’ve got a—“
Russel clearly wasn’t expecting him to say anything, because he starts, jerking backwards so that Carson’s outstretched fingers bump into his back where the note is. Russel winces and suddenly Carson is panicking.
“Shit— I’m sorry— did I hurt you—?”
Russel turns back around, shrugging off the obvious pain. This makes Carson’s heart ache in a way that he can’t quite explain.
“No, no, I was already— it’s nothing.”
Carson makes a slightly irritated face. “It’s not nothing. You wouldn’t wince at me barely touching your back if it was nothing. You were already what, Russel?”
Russel looks down and shifts uncomfortably. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about this, but Carson needs to know what happened. He needs to know how to stop it from happening in the future.
“You were already what?” Carson repeats.
Russel hesitates before finally answering, “…Hurt. But really, Carson, it’s fine—“
Carson sees red. He never thought that saying had any real basis in fact, but he swears he sees a flash of deep red, though maybe it’s a trick of the light in Russel’s room.
“No, it’s not fine,” he interrupts angrily, and before he can think it through, the words are out of his mouth. “Take off your shirt.”
Russel goes pale, looking up at Carson in disbelief. “You— I— what?!”
“Take off your shirt,” Carson says again, wishing he didn’t feel the need to see Russel’s injury for himself, because this really wouldn’t be helping him keep his feelings for him in check.
Carson is sure Russel isn’t going to, but after a long minute, he slowly pulls off his t-shirt with a wince. Carson draws in a breath involuntarily. Russel is beautiful; there’s no other word for it. Even though he isn’t toned, there’s certainly nothing wrong with the way Russel looks, far from it, but Carson isn’t exactly an unbiased judge. He momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to be looking at what’s wrong with Russel’s back and just stares at him because shit this really, really isn’t making anything easier.
“Um,” Russel says, and as Carson looks back to his face, he can’t help but notice the blush spreading from Russel’s cheeks down his neck.
He knows Russel has a crush on him. It’s hard not to notice the way Russel looks at him, the way he talks to him, the way he looks down at his hands whenever Carson catches him staring, or how often he blushes when they’re together.
Sometimes he thinks about how cruel he’s being to Russel. He likes him back, after all, it’s just… this is the first time he’s felt like this about someone, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He figures he owes it to Russel to figure that out before confessing anything.
“Right,” Carson says, willing himself to focus on the problem at hand. “Turn around.”
Russel does, and Carson’s heart drops in his chest. The lower half of Russel’s back is nearly completely covered in bruises in various shades of purple and red. Some parts look more healed than others, so Carson guesses whoever did this to Russel has done it several times in the past few weeks.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Russel… How did this happen? Who did this to you? Did your parents—“
“No, no, God, they wouldn’t— they don’t even know,” Russel is quick to assure him, but he doesn’t turn around.
Carson lets out a sigh of relief he isn’t fully aware he’d been holding. “Oh. Then who was it?”
“The jocks,” Russel confesses quietly, and his voice is quivering, just a little.
Carson brings his left hand up to the side of his neck subconsciously, remembering his own injuries caused by the jocks.
Carson’s seething with rage, but somehow he manages to sound calm when he asks, “How?”
Russel takes a while to answer this time, and Carson wants nothing more in that moment than to reach out and touch Russel’s shoulder, or just do something to make him feel better.
“They um… A-after PE, they all take showers. And they’ve got these… soaking wet towels, from drying off, I guess. I try to change and leave as fast as I can, but…” Russel trails off, and Carson sees him trembling.
“You don’t have to finish if you don’t think you can,” Carson tries to reassure Russel, even though he’s dying to know what the jocks are doing to him.
“No, no, I can. It’s just… hard. I don’t like thinking about it. Um. Anyway. They come at me with the towels. There’re usually at least four of them. They pin me to the lockers, and um.”
Carson feels himself grow even angrier with every word Russel says. He knows Russel has been bullied in the past, but he had somehow gotten it into his head that it had all stopped the first time he and Russel had had a real conversation after Carson had told the jocks to fuck off. There’s a dark feeling in Carson’s stomach that he recognizes as guilt. If he had known this was still going on before now, maybe he could have stopped it. Actually stopped it rather than just thinking he had. But he hadn’t known. He does now though, and he’s going to find a way to make them regret this if it’s the last thing he does.
“And?” Carson asks, dreading the answer.
“And uh. Lift up the back of my shirt and hit me with the towels. They don’t stop until I stop struggling. I don’t— I don’t know why they do it, Carson,” Russel finishes, and Carson can hear that he’s started crying.
Carson can’t contain his absolute fury any longer. “I am going to— rip them— limb from limb…” he seethes through grit teeth, stopping at an alarmed yelp from Russel.
“Do you want to go to jail?!”
“…Fine, maybe I’ll just yell at them then. I can’t let this keep happening, though, Russel. I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep them away from you.”
This seems to make Russel feel a bit better; at least he’s stopped crying.
“That’s probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Shit. Carson has to stop from smacking himself on the forehead. It’s too late to take it back now though. Russel probably needed to hear it, so it’s okay, Carson tries to reason with himself.
“Oh. Well, um, if there’s anything I can do to help you feel better now?” Carson asks, trying to distract Russel a little.
“Hold me?” Russel squeaks, tensing up immediately afterwards; Carson’s not the only one regretting what he says.
Carson considers this. He probably shouldn’t, but he’s already let so many things slip, and he really does want Russel to feel better, so what harm could this really be?
“Okay,” he says, trying for nonchalance.
Before he can change his mind, he moves up right behind Russel and puts his arms around him, careful to hug him in a way that doesn’t hurt his back. Russel blushes and tenses again, and Carson can’t help but feel a little proud that he has that effect on him.
After a few minutes of sitting there together, Russel’s humming a little to himself, and Carson decides he’s done enough. He pulls away, but before he does so, he presses a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kiss to Russel’s shoulder. He immediately regrets it and curses at himself. Is he an idiot? There’s no way Russel didn’t notice that. Especially with everything else he’s done today, he wouldn’t be surprised if Russel accuses him of having a crush on him. But he couldn’t stop himself, and there’s no taking it back. He’ll just have to live with whatever happens next.
But nothing happens. Russel’s blushing a little, but that’s the only sign he noticed anything. Carson breathes a sigh of relief and tries not to stare too much as Russel puts his shirt back on.
Today’s not the day to confess to Russel. It’s been pretty emotionally exhausting, after all, and he’s got some jocks to yell at next week. (It should be pretty easy to figure out which ones they are.) But if today has taught him anything, Carson thinks to himself, it’s that he needs to act on his feelings, and soon. Maybe being in a relationship with Russel won’t be as scary as he’s been thinking. After all, there are definitely some positives he hadn’t thought of before.