Il libro di Jaylos

i can't help falling in love with you

taken from: RottenKidNextDoor (PortalofWords) on Ao3
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Jay isn't gay.

He's not straight either, but apparently - in Auradon - those are the only two categories a person can fall into. He's either gay - eceentric, flamboyant, someone the older royals sniff at - or straight - normal, everyday, accepted. There is no inbetween, and that's bullshit.

--

"Rumor has it that you and that blonde cheerleader hooked up after Saturday's win," Chad says one afternoon after tourney practice, a towel slung low around his hips. "How'd she stack up against - well, against the rest of them?"

His face hidden in his locker, Jay allows himself to make a face for a moment. His conquests. Chad means to say his conquests. And he isn't wrong. Jay has more notches in his belt than the rest of the team combined, but that's just the way things have to be. So he simply slams his locker shut and tosses Chad a wild, cocky grin.

"Real flexible, Chad," he laughs. "All those cheerleaders are fucking flexible, if you know what I mean."

---

"I swear," Jay bangs on the bathroom door in their dorm for the hundredth time. "How long does it take someone to piss? I gotta grab my toothbrush! Open up!" He will never get used to the idea that bedrooms in Auradon have private bathrooms with locks. Yet another luxury the kids here seem to take for granted.

Carlos comes out, still in the process of zipping his fly. "You know, it wasn't locked," he shrugs. "You could've just come in."

Jay doesn't know why, but the thought makes him flush.

---

Jay knows how much Carlos dislikes tourney. But it's Carlos, and he knows the guy has been bred to suffer through rather than to quit, to shove his own wants away, to ignore his discomfort. And sure, those things sound bad, but they've kept him alive, haven't they? That's another thing the people here won't ever be able to wrap their minds around; sometimes, they just did what they had to do to wake up the next morning. Moral or not, right or wrong, the only reason they'd even been around to get invited to Auradon in the first place is because of those basic instincts.

And on the off chance Jay does catch himself thinking about what he could've done back home to protect Carlos from the island, he stops. Protection wouldn't have saved him. Carlos didn't need protection; it wouldn't have mattered how many times Jay had shown up, Cruella would've hit him that much harder.

Despite all that, though, Jay wishes he had the balls to tell Carlos to stop coming to practice if he hates it so much. This is Auradon, and that means Carlos has been given some semblance of choice, even if he's not aware of how to take it. If Jay ever found it in himself to encourage his roommate to join cheerleading or dance or something he might actually enjoy , Carlos might listen. But so far, Jay hasn't said a word. And he doesn't really know why.

He's allowed himself to mull it over occasionally, flipping through possible reasons for postponing the discussion, but all the answers he's settled upon make his heart beat quickly, and he doesn't have time for that.

"You're getting better," Jay says to Carlos that afternoon, panting as they finish a drill together.

That's the first reason he settled on for keeping quiet: I wouldn't have anyone to partner up with . Which is bullshit, because it's not like the other guys wouldn't toss a ball around between their sticks with him. It's more that Jay wouldn't want to do it with them.

"Sure," Carlos laughs, out of breath. "I only dropped the thing fifteen times instead of sixteen. Pretty sure that's a new record. Better get Coach."