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1.
“I don’t know, maybe we should ask your wife.”
The response to his question about dinner makes him stop dead in his tracks. His heart plummets down to the center of the earth. Carlos honestly can’t even fucking breathe.
Then he sees it. The quiver at the corner of TK’s lips as he tries not to laugh. There’s a rushing in his ears like all of his blood decided to start flowing again.
“TK, that’s not funny,” he says, still a little winded.
His whole body shudders as he finally gives into the laughter, wiping away tears from his eyes as he literally guffaws. “You’re right,” he gasps. “It’s hysterical.”
Carlos knows now that he’s in for a relentless amount of TK’s special form of teasing. It’s going to be torture. There will definitely be at least one embarrassing moment in front of his future father in law or, hell, the whole 126. There’s no way TK hasn’t plotted out hundreds of perfect one liners. Carlos prepares himself to live in fear for the next few days until TK has gotten his hilarity out of his system. Its psychological warfare is what it is.
Carlos sighs. “I’m ordering Thai.” There’s no way he’s up to cooking anymore. TK hums happily, never glancing up from his phone.
2.
Carlos is putting the last of the leftovers in the refrigerator when he turns and sees TK smoothing out a flat sheet on the couch. He closes the refrigerator door before folding his arms over his chest.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
TK looks up from where he’s fluffing Carlos’s hypoallergenic pillow before placing it by the arm of the couch. “Making up the couch for you,” he says. His green eyes are wide, feigning innocence. Carlos knows better.
“And why are you doing that?” Carlos knows he’s going to regret asking the question. He can feel it in his soul.
TK tries his best to keep the smirk off his face, but he is physically incapable. He’s been planning this one for days.
“Baby, you can’t expect me to sleep with a married man.” He tries to make his voice sound slightly scandalized, but it’s taking all he has not to cry with laughter.
Carlos ignores the remark, which he knows will drive TK crazy. Especially, when he thinks he’s being so funny. He opts instead to drop his arms to his side and slowly make his way over to TK.
He watches TK take in the sway of his hips. Watches the way he licks his bottom lip. A habit Carlos has learned isn’t just a nervous gesture, but something he does when he’s thinking any number of obscene thoughts.
“That should be illegal,” TK says as Carlos comes to stand right in front of him. Carlos grabs his hips, pulling him close, and slotting his thigh between TK’s legs. “All of you should be illegal,” he mumbles.
TK tries for a kiss, but Carlos moves just out of the way. He opens his eyes and pouts before trying again. But Carlos doesn’t let him. Just keeps a firm hold of his hips and ducks his head out of the way.
“TK,” he says when he huffs in frustration, “if you can’t sleep with a married man then you can’t kiss one either.”
Carlos lets go of him before plopping down on the sofa and stretching out. He lets out a satisfied sigh as he pretends to get comfortable. “You have a good night.” He turns to face the back of the couch, not letting TK see his smile.
“Carlos Reyes, you get your ass in the bedroom right now!”
“But babe–” he doesn’t even get his full sentence out before TK is pouncing on him. They tumble off the couch and onto the floor. A tangle of limbs and laughter.
“This seems slightly familiar.” TK is breathless and beautiful beneath him. He runs his fingers through his hair and TK closes his eyes at the feel. “I love you.”
TK opens his eyes, his hands coming up to cup Carlos’s face. “I know.”
3.
Carlos has been hesitant to come by the station while TK is working. After dinner and then the couch fiasco TK seems to have retreated for the past few days. With the exception of one glib text, but Carlos isn’t going to count that. He’s being lured into a false sense of security. He even knows it. But he can’t help himself. He wants to have lunch with his fiance and he loves the way he looks in his paramedic uniform.
Medical is out on a call when he walks in. But the kitchen is full of activity and Paul tells him to grab a plate when he sees him. He knows everyone must know. His secret is most definitely not a secret anymore. But no one treats him any differently. There’s no cold shoulders or icy glares. Even Judd smiles when he sees him. And if there was going to be one person he thought would want to rake him over the coals it’s Judd.
He falls into the easy banter as they eat. It’s not too long before the ambulance is pulling in and he hears TK’s voice going a mile a minute about something or other.
Carlos can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when TK turns the corner.
“Oh babe,” TK says when he sees him. His entire face lighting up. “I’m so honored. You didn’t want to have lunch with your wife today?”
The entire table goes silent. Carlos wants nothing more than to disappear into a giant hole in the floor. TK is smirking like the little shit he is and everyone is staring at Carlos. He’s pretty sure he’s had a nightmare that went just like this.
Nancy is the first one to break the silence with her barely contained snort as she slaps TK’s shoulder. It’s enough to send everyone into hysterics. TK bounces over to him and presses a kiss into his hair.
“You’re a menace,” he whispers to him. TK shrugs before spinning off to get his own lunch from the kitchen.
“Now, wait a minute.” Judd drawls, slow and easy. Carlos’s eyes go wide. This can’t be good. He should’ve known Judd wasn’t just going to let this slide. “Are you going to have to pay alimony?”
TK gasps dramatically. Carlos is a hundred percent sure this must’ve been rehearsed. He hates everything.
“Carlos, I can handle sharing you with your wife, but I absolutely will not share my money.”
“Yeah, how else are you going to afford his hoodie addiction?” Mateo asks.
“Or pay for all his Ubers since the man refuses to drive?” Paul throws in.
Now TK looks like he’s regretting his life choices.
“Hey! We’re not meant to be sassing me!”
4.
“Isn’t this how we got into this mess?”
“Huh?” Is TK talking right now? He knows Carlos can’t think with his mouth on his dick. There’s no higher brain function occurring here, only lower. It always takes every ounce of stamina he has not to shoot his load the minute TK drops to his knees in front of him. And he knows TK loves it, gets off on it. The power he has to turn Carlos into a mindless, whining thing with just his mouth. Loves the way Carlos only ever pulls his hair, never ever pushes. Loves it so much he came from rubbing himself against Carlos’s leg while he absolutely destroyed him. Carlos lists that in his top three hottest, mind numbing orgasms he’s ever had.
So when TK pulls off him with a loud pop and stares up at him through his eyelashes, breath ghosting over Carlos’s cock, he can’t fucking think.
“I said,” TK continues as if Carlos wasn’t just seconds away from coming down his throat, “isn’t this how we got in this mess?”
“TK, what are you talking about?” And if there’s a bit of a frustrated whine in his voice, who is anyone to judge?
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs his shoulders and wraps a hand around the length of Carlos, slowly stroking him while he talks. It’s damn torture is what it is. It’s got to violate some law or the goddamn Geneva Convention. How does TK expect him to carry on a conversation right now?
“That first night, when you asked me to dance, and then you pulled me into the bathroom.” TK pauses in his reminiscing to tongue at his slit, a fat drop of precome slides out and TK licks it up like it’s manna from on high. “I got on my knees for you and five minutes later you were coming down my throat.” Carlos opens his eyes when TK doesn’t continue on with whatever story he’s trying to tell and also doesn’t continue blowing him. He sees the smirk on his face, but he’s too slow to process that it’s the smirk that means TK is about to say something sassy and not the smirk that means he’s about to rearrange Carlos’s entire world with his mouth. “Guess my mouth is so good I made you forget you had a wife for three years.”
Carlos groans (and not in a good way) and scrubs a hand over his face. “Oh my god, TK. Are you serious? Right now?”
TK laughs and it’s nothing short of evil. Why does Carlos love this man? Before Carlos can make another comment TK is sucking him all the way down. He shouts as he feels TK swallow around him. Then he’s doing the thing with his tongue that drives Carlos absolutely insane and with another shout he’s coming. TK takes everything he gives him until he’s using the hand he has in his hair to pull him off.
His chest is heaving and there’s bright spots still bursting behind his eyelids. He feels TK slide up his body until he’s straddling in his lap. He licks a stripe up Carlos’s exposed throat before kissing him. Teeth scraping across his bottom lip before TK gentles the kiss. He presses feather light kisses to each cheek and his eyelids and then finally his nose. When Carlos opens his eyes again he’s staring into the green abyss of TK’s. They’re soft and warm and fond.
“You’re not funny,” Carlos tells him.
“I’m fucking hysterical.”
5.
Carlos waits as TK gets the reusable bags out of the trunk. He grabs a few because the list is longer than usual today.
He loves Saturdays at the Farmers Market. He loves how they know everyone now and that they have a pretty standard routine. They always start outside at the booths. Going through the fruit and vegetable stands before the homemade items. They buy almost everything here. There’s the lavender soap that he loves. The tea tree shampoo and conditioner that TK swears by. Hands down the best organic yogurt that Carlos has ever eaten in his life. And so on and so on.
They’re out of a lot of staples and Carlos is really looking forward to the fresh herbs and spices stall where he’s able to fill up his own bottles. It’s the thing that attracted him to this particular Farmers Market all those years ago. Then he’d introduced it to TK.
His spice bottles rattle against each other in the bag TK is holding. Carlos is quick to take it from him because TK will forget about the bottles and start swinging it around while they browse. He laces his fingers with TK’s with his free hand and they set off towards the first stall.
Halfway there though TK freezes with a gasp.
“What?” Carlos asks, looking around. “What is it?”
“What if we run into your wife?”
Carlos groans. He looks to the heavens for strength.
“Are you planning on being done with this any time soon?”
TK just laughs and laughs. “I can’t help that you’re marrying a man of comedy.”
“At this rate I might just stay married to a woman and keep you as my side piece.”
TK smacks him in the stomach and he lets out a little “oof” just to get him to smile.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He’s right. There’s only one person Carlos wants as a spouse. He throws his arm around his shoulder, tucking him into his side. He presses a kiss to his temple, inhaling the scent of tea tree. TK’s arm wraps around his waist and they set off for the first stall once again. Carlos wouldn’t trade this for anything.
+1.
“Baby, I love you, but you need therapy.”
Carlos has no idea where that came from. They’d both gotten home from their shifts about an hour ago. And after showers and a late night snack for TK, Carlos had sat on the end of the bed to take off his socks when TK crawled into his lap. It’s anyone's guess how long they've been lazily making out. There’s no rush. No place to be any time soon.
He’s enjoying the warmth of TK in his lap. The smooth skin of his hips under his hands. They’re both hard, but there’s no frantic need to get there. They’ll get to it eventually.
So, when TK pulls back to look at him for a moment and then mentions therapy, Carlos is thrown.
“What? Why?” and he hopes it doesn’t sound defensive. He doesn’t mean it to be. He just has no idea where the thought came from. Also, he doesn’t need it and he says as much. “I’m not saying therapy is a bad thing,” Carlos tells him. “I just haven’t been through all the trauma you have. It’s not for me.”
TK thinks for a minute. He doesn’t want to get this wrong. And he definitely doesn’t want a fight. “Therapy isn’t just for trauma. And who’s to say one person’s trauma is worse than another’s?” He cups Carlos's face in his hands, wanting him to listen and understand. “You’ve had your own traumas, babe. You don’t make it through life without them. It’s okay to need therapy and it’s okay to need to talk to someone that isn’t me.”
Carlos lets out a little huff, but doesn’t pull away. TK is going to count it as a win.
“You do not have to be perfect to be loved.” When Carlos just stares at him, a million words trapped in the depths of his eyes, TK gives him a smile. Moving his hand to rub his chest he asks, “am I perfect?”
“Yes,” Carlos says without hesitation. Rolling his eyes, TK gives him a light shove. Carlos goes easily, letting himself fall back onto the mattress. His hands stay on TK’s hips, his thumbs rubbing light circles against his skin just underneath the hem of his shirt. TK braces himself on Carlos's chest.
“Really?” he questions. “I’m perfect with all my near death experiences and drug addictions and abandonment issues? Not to mention, how I leave my clothes on the floor and never in the hamper. My epic bitch fests. Drinking straight from the carton. Always finishing the last of something and never adding it to the grocery list. My absolute hatred for pickled vegetables. Even after all that, you’re going to tell me I’m perfect.”
Carlos moves a hand to cup TK’s face, his thumb stroking the soft skin underneath his eye. “Yeah,” he says, breathless. All the flaws TK mentioned and the hundreds he didn’t are all what make him perfect. But Carlos doesn’t know how to tell him that. Doesn’t think there are any words in English or Spanish to let him know just how much love he has for him.
Somehow though, he thinks TK understands. He reads it somewhere on his face or maybe in his eyes, because TK’s smiling down at him so softly and his eyes are tearing up. The kiss they share is soft and hopeful. Just lips against lips, soul against soul.
“Still think you need therapy,” TK mumbles against his lips. Carlos huffs out a laugh before flipping them over.
TK has already left for work by the time Carlos has finished his shower and heads into the kitchen to make his coffee. He sees his cup, already filled, sitting on the kitchen island. There’s a business card propped against it. Carlos picks it up, reads it, and then reaches for his phone.
He makes an appointment for next week.