You're linked to my innocence

"I'm kinda scared."

"You don't have to come, I can take you back home."

"No, no. I want to meet the guys. I'm just nervous. You know how I am meeting new people."
Malachi fidgeted in his seat, distractedly gazing out the window at all the buildings, cars, and people going by in a blur. His older brother, Paul, took a warm hand off the wheel for a moment and patted his sibling's knee.

"Alright, then. Don't worry, I'll be there, obviously. Daniel and Sam are really nice, you'll get along great." He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Carlos is... Well, Carlos. He can be intimidating. But he doesn't bite." He chuckled a bit at his own words.

"Hey," His tone suddenly dropped to one more serious. Malachi looked over, his blue eyes connecting with his brother's of the same color. The taller gave the shorter's knee a small. comforting squeeze. "You'll be okay."Malachi smiled shakily, but warmly at him.

"Thanks."

"No problem." The pair pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. Paul paused before opening the door to the building, looking back at his little brother, as if he was asking the other if he was sure. Malachi nodded and smiled more confidently this time. He awkwardly shuffled in close behind the taller brunette. Once in the actual studio room, he noticed one of the other band members was already inside. He had black hair and was about the same height as Malachi. He perked up and waved as soon as he and Paul came in the door.

"Hey, I'm Daniel. You're Paul's brother?" He reached out his hand to shake Malachi's. He reached out his own, giving back a weak, nervous shake.

"Yeah, I'm Malachi. Thanks for having me." He glanced awkwardly around the cluttered room, looking for somewhere to sit and eventually settling on a free stool next to the door.

"I heard there were other guys? Carlos and Sam?" Malachi questioned, he wanted to get the meeting new people over with already. Especially since one was described as intimidating. That didn't help to settle his nerves.

"Oh, yeah. They should be coming in soon. I just got here early." The black-haired male responded. The younger brunette kept fidgeting in his seat, picking at his skin. Sam came in a few minutes later, greeting Malachi much the same way Daniel did. They all started chatting but he zoned out and didn't catch any of it. He was lost in his own thoughts.

He was unceremoniously pulled out of his mind by the door next to him swinging open, making him jump. He lost balance and fell, knocking over his stool on his way down.

"Shit!" He yelped. He looked around, and once making sure he didn't fall on anything important, he looked up to see who had come in. He was tall, with relatively short, straight black hair in a side part. He was wearing all black except for a red tie. His pale face boasted a sharp jaw and piercing umber eyes. He looked down at Malachi with just the smallest hint of disdain in his gaze, making him question if it was really there. As soon as Malachi thought he saw it, it was gone, replaced now with mild concern.

"Sorry, are you alright?" His low voice made Malachi's heart skip a beat. The tall man reached out a large hand with long fingers out to the toppled boy, an offering of help.

"I'm alright, you just startled me. Thank you." Malachi took his hand, noticing how cold it was. Those long, bony fingers immediately wrapped around Malachi's own, completely engulfing his hand and giving him shivers as he was pulled to his feet. His stomach churned and he spoke shakily and unsure of himself, nervously laughing.

"Your uhh..." He swallowed nervously. "Your hands are really cold." He looked up at him, eyes looking around his face but never quite meeting his eyes. The other smiled, dark eyes unflinchingly focused on Malachi's own.

"Maybe yours are just really warm." He replied smoothly. The brunette blushed, both at the raven-haired man's words and the fact that he'd not yet let go of his hand. Malachi happily let him keep holding it. He finally thought to introduce himself.

"Oh! Um, I'm Malachi. Paul's brother." He already knew this was Carlos, the only one he hadn't met, but he wanted to make sure. And he wanted the small chance that he might hear Carlos say his name.

"Malachi..." He mused, tasting the name on his lips. "I'm Carlos." He shook their still connected hands. Malachi reciprocated, becoming flustered to new lengths at his name being said in that alluring voice. Carlos finally let go of his hand and Malachi immediately missed the contact. He wanted those cold, strong hands to make him shiver elsewhere. He mentally pinched himself, he shouldn't be thinking of Carlos like that. He was probably 20-something and Malachi was only 16. Any minuscule crumb of reciprocal attraction he felt was just Malachi's imagination. He wouldn't like a teenager, a kid, like that. Even if he did, he wouldn't risk tarnishing his band's reputation for Malachi. He wasn't worth it.

The rest of the day was pretty much uneventful. The guys played their songs, Malachi sat by quietly and stole a few glances at Carlos while he played. The way he moved was entrancing, almost hypnotic. Bony arms glided through the air, appearing at first to be reckless and wild, but with closer observation was really controlled and nearly graceful. In one nerve-wracking moment, Malachi caught Carlos' sparkling dark eyes. He thought he saw a sly wink from the slender male, making his heart skip and nervous heat flicker in his stomach. His mind wandered, letting himself indulge in various dirty fantasies of Carlos. Those thin lips kissing his body, those lithe fingers caressing him, scratching him, bruising him. Thoughts of Malachi's own smaller fingers tangled in that oily-looking hair made him want to writhe in his seat, but he had to stop himself. He didn't want his brother and these guys, basically strangers, seeing him desperate like that. He might not mind so much if it was just Carlos.

He was so lost in his own thoughts, he'd not even noticed that the band was done. Paul was calling his name, trying to wake him from his trance-like state. He snapped out of it, barely able to look his brother in the eye after the thoughts he just had about his bandmate.

"Sorry, sorry. I just kinda zoned out, y'know?" He laughed awkwardly. "Is there a uh.. is there a bathroom somewhere?" He only needed to actually go slightly, he wanted somewhere private to relive a bit of the tension he brought upon himself.

"Oh! Yeah, it's-" Paul started but was cut off.

"I'll show him, I need to go too." Carlos volunteered. Malachi felt his face heat up. Was he actually not imagining Carlos' attraction? No, of course he was. He just needed to use the bathroom, he said it himself.

"Thanks." He was worried if he said more, his voice would crack and give his nervousness away. He shyly smiled up at the man towering over him as they left the room.

As they walked, Malachi's blue eyes aimed only at the floor, scared of eye contact with Carlos. "Sorry for knocking you over earlier. Unfortunate first meeting, huh?" His low, smooth voice startled the brunette and he jerked his head up to look up at Carlos.

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it. I've survived worse." As they reached the bathroom, Carlos stopped and opened the door for Malachi.

"Paul should bring you around more often." He commented with a smile, just barely revealing unusually sharp canines. Malachi had to stop himself from gasping, the thoughts that flooded his head at that fateful glint of white were thoroughly smutty. He avoided looking at the vampirish man and swiftly moved past him into the restroom. Locking himself in a stall, he couldn't stop his hand from drifting down into his pants.

He covered his mouth with his other hand, desperately hoping Carlos didn't hear his pitiable moans. He had to work himself fast, he didn't want to seem suspicious. He bit down on his hand, muffling the quiet, unsavory whines that escaped from his throat. Again, thoughts of Carlos were freely drifting through his head. Willowy hands and fingers working his body, making him submissive and pliable. Canines gliding across his throat and collarbone, piercing his skin. Bony, svelte body pressed up close against Malachi's more plush own. He couldn't stop himself when a faint whimpering of Carlos' name escaped his lips as his body gave in and he came onto his fingers. He bit his hand even harder as he did, sure to leave marks. He sat there in the stall, panting and staring at the graffiti on the door. He took his fingers out of his dripping hole and wiped them off with a piece of toilet paper, also wiping away the wetness from his cunt and flushing the paper.

He emerged from his stall to see the man of his thoughts standing there, washing his hands. Malachi silently joined him, noting the indents on his hand while he cleaned them. "Have fun in there?" Carlos asked and smirked sideways at the other male. His face immediately turned bright red and he stopped moving.

"Oh god. I- I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to hear that, I-" He was cut off.

"Hey, it's alright. Everyone has urges." He turned off the sink and dried his hands with a paper towel. Malachi did the same, back turned and avoiding even looking in Carlos' direction. Considering his nonchalant attitude, he doubted the black-haired male heard his name slip out. But when he turned around again, he was met with a familiar black shirt and red tie uncomfortably close to his face. He looked up to see Carlos' sweet sepia eyes glaring down at him tantalizingly. Limber arms encased him, resting on the wall on either side of his head.

"If Paul knew how you thought about me, what would he think?" He implored in a seductive voice. Malachi stammered, not knowing how to respond. He looked past Carlos' shoulder, staring at the wall behind him as he scrambled for an answer.

"Look at me." His tone turned more demanding. He wasn't asking Malachi, he was commanding him. He looked, connecting his eyes with Carlos'. He squirmed under the scrutinizing gaze. Carlos smiled, showing another glimpse of sharp, predatory teeth.

"Thank you." He purred. Malachi felt himself getting wetter. Wanting, needing to be filled. Filled by him.

"C-Carlos..." He mewled, unable to stop himself. Carlos leaned down, breathing hot and heavy on Malachi's ear.

"What is it?" His words, sickeningly sweet, made the smaller shiver. He felt like his legs couldn't support him for much longer and he gripped Carlos' shirt, balling it up in his fists. Carlos held him up with one hand on his hip.

"Carlos, please." He couldn't say much more, terrified at being alone here with him, terrified that his brother might find out, terrified that someone might come in.

"Please... what?" Carlos started to pull away. "Sorry, but I can't do anything if you don't say what it is you need." Malachi, desperate for this contact, just clung onto his shirt harder.

"No! Please. Please, Carlos I... I need you. Please." The older chuckled, holding the younger's waist again.

"Aww, I'm sorry. We can't. Do you want them getting suspicious and finding you like this? Clinging so pathetically to an older man?" The only thing the teen could do was snivel and shake his head. What kind of mind game was he playing? He knew what he was doing, right? He had to. The way he touched him. Well, he'd barely touched him, actually. He only held his waist to support him. But... the way he talked to him. No, he was only asking logical questions and asking him to look at him. That was normal in a conversation. But what about how close he got? How close they were right now? Well, Paul said Carlos could be intimidating. Maybe this is what he meant.

In his confused state, he barely realized he was being led out of the bathroom. He snapped back to reality and kept walking with Carlos back to the rest of the band. How was he supposed to look his brother in the eye after this? In a daze, he said bye to Daniel, Sam, and Carlos and walked out with his brother to his car.

"So, how'd you like the guys? Did Carlos behave?" Paul smiled at his brother, who was still in shock. "Hey, are you alright?" Malachi looked up, giving a weak smile back.

"Oh, no, yeah I'm fine. He was fine. I'm just kinda tired. Loud music and meeting three new people at once drains the battery, y'know?" He explained away, giving a dismissive wave. He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a cutting of paper against his left hand that he hadn't put there. As they got in the car, he took it out and read it. It was a phone number with Carlos' name written next to it in messy writing and two anxiety-inducing words;

"call me :)"


-----
2
-----

That night, around eleven, Malachi sat on his bed and stared at the slip of paper Carlos had given him. He glanced back and forth between the number, the name, the words, the little smiley face, and his phone. He couldn't make sense of any of it. What were Carlos' feelings towards him? What were his feelings towards Carlos? What was his goal in being this friendly? This close? He really did want to call, but what if he caught him at a bad time? What if the whole spectacle in the bathroom was some kind of dream or fantasy? Could Malachi really trust his memory? Could he really trust Carlos? He took a deep breath. Carlos gave him his number. He wanted him to call. No point in waiting and being scared, he thought. At most it might be a cruel prank or Carlos would just make fun of him. He could survive that. He was surviving high school.

He held his breath and dialed, squeezing his eyes shut so tight it hurt as it rang. It took three or four rings before he heard a familiar, alluring voice come through. "Hello?" He questioned.

"Hey, uh, Carlos? It's Malachi." He responded quickly but shakily, eyes still shut tight. There was silence for a second. Was this not really him? Did he forget Malachi?

"Malachi! Hey, it's good to hear from you." Thank god. It really was Carlos, and he remembered him. He always spoke so tactfully and self-assuredly. It made the teen melt. He realized he hadn't responded.

"Yeah, it's good to talk to someone other than Paul for once." He laughed nervously. He already felt like he was making an embarrassment of himself. He punched himself mentally. Carlos was so cool. This tall, attractive, older guy, interested in Malachi? A weird awkward teenager? It seemed impossible. He was sure that he was making a fool of himself.

"Well," The smooth, suede voice cut right through his thoughts like butter. "You're welcome to call me up anytime, dear."

Dear? That was definitely romantic. It had to be, right? Well, he still wasn't sure. Sometimes Paul had called him 'dear' when he needed to be calmed down. There was no way, at least no appropriate way, that it was meant as anything but platonic.

"Sorry, I, uhh, my mind's kind of all over the place right now." He, again, laughed nervously. He didn't want to bring up their little encounter earlier, as he still wasn't completely sure if it was real or not. "Today has been... hectic." He bit the inside of his cheek, praying that he didn't seem too nervous.

"No kidding." There was a small pause. "I look forward to seeing you again, Malachi." He made it sound like they had gone on a date. The way he spoke made all the thoughts of earlier in the day come flooding back to his mind. A fire started to ignite in his stomach and he tried desperately to smother it. He didn't want to get even more awkward on call with the guy he liked.

"Yeah!" He thought he sounded too excited. "Uh, yeah. I do too, Carlos" He savored the taste of the older man's name on his lips.

"Maybe... maybe I could give you a taste of what you so desperately needed today." Carlos added quietly and chuckled in a roguish manner. Malachi spluttered and struggled to find something to say back. The miscreant just kept quietly snickering on the other end. "Sorry, sorry. As entertaining as it is, I don't mean to embarrass you." After a few seconds or so of stumbling over his words, Malachi finally regained his bearings and was able to spit out;

"It-It's okay." He cursed himself in his mind. His nervous stutter gave him away for sure. His brother's hot band mate wouldn't seriously want to get with him. He was just being teased. He stayed on the line awkwardly, not sure what to say. He laid down and grabbed a pillow to hold. He listened intently to Carlos' barely audible breaths.

The man on the other end sighed. "Well, I should probably let you sleep. We should talk again. Maybe hang out sometime?" Carlos wanted to hang out with him? God, this entire day felt like a dream. He squeezed the pillow in his arms with joy.

"I'd like that, thank you." He really did appreciate the offer. Getting away from his life as the unexceptional brother of a rock star? Yes please. Who cares if his intentions might be... less than moral? He'd found someone to talk to. Someone to count on. Maybe he'd finally found a friend that wouldn't leave him. "Well, uh, night." Malachi said, trying to hide his excitement. He could almost hear the sly smile in the other's voice.

"Night, Malachi." And he hung up. The teen sat there, staring at his phone. Did today just happen? Too many thoughts were racing through his head. He couldn't possibly get to sleep like this.

He thought about telling Paul. What could he tell him? His bass player was getting suspicious with his brother? God, no. If Paul knew, he'd never let them see each other again. He'd never think of either one the same way again. Could he just tell Paul he thought Carlos was attractive? Maybe. He'd gushed about older crushes freely to his brother before. But this was different. This was someone Paul knew personally. He didn't want to make things awkward for the band, he couldn't bring himself to possibly tear them apart. Carlos should just stay his dirty secret. It was best for everyone that way.

After a night of inconsistent, fitful sleep, Malachi woke up to the jarring sound of his phone ringing. He flipped it open, read the ID as Carlos, and quickly answered. "Carlos? I just woke up. What's up?" He sat up, legs hanging off the side of his bed.

"I'm outside." He was... outside? Outside his and Paul's apartment?

"What? Why? Outside the apartment?" He grabbed his glasses and put them on.

"Yeah. You said you'd like to hang out sometime." Malachi was rendered speechless.

"I- Yeah, I guess. I didn't really think you meant this morning." He got up and started to tug up some jeans that were laying on the floor. "Give me a minute to come out." He hung up to pull on a binder and a shirt and stumbled out of his room, shirt half-on. Paul should have still been asleep, he always stayed up late and slept in. Malachi tied his shoes and wrote a scribbly note telling Paul: 'Out with a friend.' Technically, it wasn't a lie. Carlos was his friend. Definitely just his friend.

He slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him, so as to not wake up his brother. He was feeling slightly nauseous, meeting new people and going out with them always made him incredibly nervous. He took a deep breath before leaving the apartment building. It was just Carlos, he was nice. If he wasn't, his brother wouldn't want anything to do with him. He stepped out, breathing in the morning air. It was only 9 or 10 am. He hadn't bothered to check the time while he was hectically getting ready. Malachi saw the tall, lithe man standing by his car and kicking around rocks on the ground. Carlos looked up at his approach, swiping his black hair out of his face and smiling. He was wearing a simple red button-up and black pants.

"Hey. Sorry, did I wake you up?" He opened the passenger side door and ran a hand through the shorter's brown hair. His face turned beet red.

"Yeah, it's okay though. You're worth it." Fuck, that sounded too flirty. He turned positively scarlet as Carlos just laughed at him.

"I'm glad you think so." Malachi slid into the passenger seat and swung the door closed. Carlos walked around to the other side, coming in beside Malachi.

"So, where are you taking me? You aren't kidnapping me, are you?" He questioned with a shaky smile. He was pretty sure Carlos wouldn't do that, but he just met him last night. Oh my god, he just met him last night. He talked to this guy for maybe an hour total and now he was getting in his car, alone. Well, if this was how he died, at least it would be at the hands of a smoking hot guy.

Carlos chuckled again, an intoxicating sound. "You're funny. God, no, I'm not kidnapping you. I'm taking you out for coffee." That was an awfully date-like activity. He didn't feel like justifying the assumption in his mind. He liked the idea.

"Oh, cool. That's definitely preferable to being kidnapped. Where are we going?" He stared out his window instead of risking eye contact with his crush as the car started moving.

"Oh, just some little place Daniel once showed me." Malachi nodded and picked at some loose thread on his jeans until he felt a surprising, cold hand on his knee. He jumped a bit in his seat and looked over at Carlos' striking features. "Jeez, I gotta stop scaring you like that. You okay?" Malachi nodded, avoiding eye contact again.

"Yeah, just nerves. I get nervous with new people and places 'n stuff." The driver smiled.

"Don't worry, I don't bite. Not unless you want me to." With the amount of suggestive lines being thrown around, Malachi was almost certain that Carlos knew what he was doing to the younger boy. Was he going to say anything about it? Of course not. If Carlos really wanted him, he'd make that clear.

The non-date wasn't incredibly eventful. Carlos held the door for him, a few longing, but fleeting glances were exchanged, and a few times their hands brushed together. At one point while Malachi was talking, he had his hand resting on the table. Carlos scooped it up in his own, holding it gently while listening to the younger talk. It flustered him and made him stumble over a few words, but he got back on track and quietly delighted in the contact. The way Carlos knowingly smiled at him, knowing what he was doing to the teen, made his face red for the whole ~hour they were in the cafe. Even Malachi's powers of cognitive dissonance couldn't work out how this could be platonic anymore. Now there could be no denying that the man wanted an immoral relationship with his bandmate's brother. Carlos paid for both of them. 'As one might do on a date.' Malachi thought to himself.

Their ride back to Paul's apartment was also pretty bland. They chatted a bit about music, the band, whatever else came to mind. Malachi felt at ease around the black-haired man. He was actually easy to talk to. Affectionate, even, if not a bit intimidating at first. As they pulled into the apartment's parking lot, Malachi fidgeted in his seat. He didn't want to leave Carlos already. "We should do this again sometime. It was fun." He said, boldly offering up a second 'date'.

"We absolutely should. I had a great time with you." Carlos turned his lissome upper body to face him. Were they going to kiss? People sometimes kiss after first dates. Malachi had to remind himself that nobody said it was a date. Carlos was an adult, he was just a kid. Totally not a date. Carlos' large but thin body leaned in. Malachi leaned in too, anticipating what was next. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt cold fingers run through his hair. He felt warm breath on his face, smelling slightly of tobacco.

His heart raced as slim, slightly chapped kips kissed him... on his forehead. Disappointment started to wash over him, but he felt another kiss on his cheek. A third on his soft jawline made him faintly mewl. He kept his eyes shut, not risking this being a dream and waking up. He felt Carlos' hot breath once more, right on his lips. He opened his eyes slowly, being immediately met with a pair of sorrel brown ones mere inches away from his own. "C-Carlos..." He knew he should say they shouldn't. He knew he should push the man away. He knew he was being taken advantage of.

"Yes, dear?" His rich, smooth voice made all his thoughts melt away.

"Please." He whimpered. He couldn't bear the deep need he felt. He needed Carlos. The older male only smirked.

"Right outside your brother's apartment? Are you that desperate?" Malachi didn't respond, simply wrapping his arms around the taller male's bony shoulders and whining more like a lost puppy.

He couldn't believe this was happening again. Him acting so desperate, clinging to this man like his life depended on it. Carlos being indifferent and composed, teasing the smaller with feather-light touches and kisses. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of Carlos' neck, breathing in his scent of cigarettes. "I- Please, Carlos. P-please. I don't care about Paul. I- I need you. Please." The tease pulled the teen away from his body, still allowing him to grip his shoulders.

"Look at me." He ordered. Malachi gripped the older's rose-red shirt and anxiously opened his watery blue eyes once again. He struggled to meet Carlos' austere gaze. "Come on, sweetheart. I won't hurt you." Malachi gave up on holding back. He surged forward and kissed Carlos roughly. He was inexperienced and awkward, mashing their lips together and making their teeth clash. It was a kiss full of pure need and absolute desire. Carlos eagerly kissed back, wrapping an arm around Malachi's waist.

Malachi calmed down a bit, transitioning the kiss into a softer, gentler one. He reached up and brushed his hand through Carlos' short, black hair. He gripped the mess of raven-black strands, tugging a bit on it as he whimpered. His hips rolled forwards, dying for any kind of friction against his aching, dampening cunt. Carlos pulled away, a hand on Malachi's chest gently pushing him off. "Not now. You should go." Malachi whined but didn't try to disobey him.

"When will I see you again?" Those thin lips curved into a soft smile as a benign hand stroked the high schooler's soft hair.

"Soon enough. I'll call you." Carlos blessed Malachi's lips with one more soft, quick kiss. "Now go, I don't want Paul wondering why I'm here with you." Malachi smiled and opened his car door, stepping out. Before he closed it, he turned to the man.

"See ya." And he turned to the apartments. As he opened the door to his building, he heard Carlos' car starting and pulling away. He turned back and watched him as he drove off.

"How was it?" Paul asked as his brother walked in.

"Oh, nothing special."

-----
3
-----

"Nothing special? Nothing special, my ass." Paul smiled, bright-eyed at his brother. "You look so happy. Was it a boy?" He questioned teasingly. Malachi just waved his hands dismissively but couldn't stop smiling.

"It was nothing. Just a pseudo-date and a kiss." Truthfully, Malachi wanted to tell Paul everything. He wanted to gush about Carlos and all the sweet things he did.

"Pseudo-date? It was either a date or it wasn't. You kissed, didn't you?" The younger brunette just shrugged.

"He didn't explicitly say it was a date. It was just coffee. Friends get coffee all the time." He paused, thinking. "He did hold my hand. And held the door and everything. And he paid for us. And yeah, we kissed. But I don't know, man. He's confusing."

He sat down at the dingy folding table they had in the apartment. He could ask Paul's advice, he thought. Paul knows Carlos. But he probably didn't know that his bandmate was a pedophile.

"He seemed kinda cold at first. When I first met him, I mean. He was sorta scary, even. He still is a little bit. But he can be really sweet." He raved about Carlos, and probably would have kept going forever if Paul didn't stop him.

"Jeez, dude. You really like this guy, huh?" Malachi nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah. I don't know, though. I don't know if he really likes me." He stood up and started pacing. "Like does he ever think about me the way I'm always thinking about him? Does he ever talk to his friends about me? Does he stay up at night, excited to see me?" He fell back down, this time onto the beat-up couch. He laid there, face down and let out a groan of frustration.

Paul walked over and knelt on the floor next to the couch. "Hey. I know a crush and/or potential love interest can be really stressful and scary. It can feel like one person is your whole world sometimes. If you start to get overwhelmed, try to remember that I'm here for you. You have friends that are here for you, too. Try not to balance your entire well-being on one guy. Okay, dear?" He comforted as he patted the other's back. Malachi stayed motionless besides his shaky breathing for a few moments before replying with a soft, muffled,

"Thank you." The older brother ruffled his hair and stood up.

"Oh, by the way, if he or anyone else ever hurts you, I'll punch him." The teen snorted at that. His brother was always saying stuff like that to cheer him up. He never actually did it. Malachi always stopped him. If Paul found out it was Carlos, though, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop his brother from killing the other man.

He turned around to stare at the ceiling. He thought about Paul, Carlos, Interpol. What would happen to all of them if this came out? Was Malachi's lust worth risking the lives and careers of four people and himself? What would he say to Paul if he found out? He could easily throw Carlos under the bus. He could call him a groomer and a pedophile and say he preyed on him. He'd get off scot-free. He hated the idea. He didn't want to hurt Carlos. Sure, it'd be true technically, but that's not how Malachi saw it. He was mature. He was independent. He could make his own choices. Why could nobody understand that? He was his own person. He could have sex and make out and hold hands if he wanted to. Why should the law stop him? Because he might regret it? Bullshit. Why aren't there laws against everything someone could regret? If someone had sex, consented and enjoyed it, but later regretted it, was it rape? Of course not! So why did the law have to dictate what he could enjoy? How would a court know how mature he is? It was all semantics, really.

The rest of the day was pretty chill. He and Paul just hung out, watched some TV, nothing interesting. Once in a while, Malachi would glance longingly at his phone, waiting for Carlos to call and wondering if he should call first. He shook off the thoughts. Carlos said he'd call. Malachi trusted him. "Hey, you sure you're alright? You still seem kinda bummed." Paul startled his brother.

"Oh, yeah. Just waiting for him to call. He said he would." He responded, still gazing at his phone.

"Might just be busy. It's only like..." He checked his watch. "Four thirty. Who is this guy anyways? I've never heard you talk about him before." Shit. Malachi hadn't thought of what to say. He wasn't good at making up names on the spot.

"Just, uh.. just some guy from school. I met him pretty recently in my algebra class." He had to think of a name. Raine? No, he'd told Paul about Raine already and it's not a common enough name to be a plausible coincidence. Gavin? No, Paul had met Gavin before. He was one of Malachi's closest (and only) friends.

"His name's Hunter." It was lame, sure. But he couldn't think of anything else. It was the name he thought about using before coming out to anyone.

"Hunter? C'mon, man. You can do better than a Hunter." Paul laughed teasingly at it, making Malachi smile too.

"Oh, shut up. He's more than his name. Learn to look past someone's cover." He retorted, sitting up and picking at the couch's cracking surface. He had to admit, when he first heard Carlos' name, he didn't expect who he met. He wasn't sure what he expected. But it wasn't the tall, pasty, bony man he was now so infatuated with.

"He's... He's good to me." He smiled, wide and childish as he thought about the lanky bassist towering over him. How those soft, narrow lips felt against his own.

Paul smiled. "Good, good. He'd better treat you right." Malachi rolled his eyes.

"Of course he will. He's a good guy if you can look past the name." He joked. The older Banks brother just laughed and turned his attention back to the TV. Suddenly, Malachi felt less alone. Less like Carlos was so important. Less like his little crush was his whole world. Paul could always pull him out of his thoughts and make him feel more grounded in reality. Suddenly, a wave of anxiety hit him.

This wasn't good. Carlos wasn't good. Adult men didn't talk to teenagers like this for a good reason. He shouldn't like the attention Carlos gave him. He should be disgusted and creeped out and he should feel ashamed for letting the man touch him like he did. But he didn't feel any of that. He knew, somewhere, that it was bad. He knew Carlos was bad for him. But it felt good. Being wanted for once made him feel alive. It made him feel sick, violated, perverted, adored, cared about, and needed. He tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind and pay attention to whatever show Paul had put on.

But the thoughts kept coming back. He couldn't escape the fact that he was going to get hurt. Not even necessarily because of the age difference, Malachi had a habit of accidentally chasing away the people he loves, hurting himself in the process. It had made him start to think he was just unlovable. Nobody would ever grow to care about him the same, intense, way he cared for other people. Carlos seemed to care, sure, but he'd leave anyway. They all seemed to care in the beginning. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. He never was much good at cutting people off. He thought of all this and held back tears, not wanting to make Paul feel burdened with his emotions. Eventually, he drifted off on the couch, lulled to sleep by the sound of voices on the TV.