#its the way tk buries his head into carlos' shoulder | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lire-casander · 2 years

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chapter #9 — bridge

Three days after unceremoniously slamming the door of Carlos’ apartment, TK welcomes Jonah back from school while doing some yoga for his nerves. It’s been a pattern for the past seventy hours or so — when he’s not fighting to fall asleep, he’s trying something to appease his soul.

He still thinks he’s in the right here; after all, Carlos didn’t seem to want to introduce him to his parents anytime soon. But TK is also aware that Carlos has been on edge because of the whole school ordeal, and that there’s been something else nagging at him if the way he’s been acting lately is any indication. TK knows he was right when he pointed out how Carlos made him feel during the whole interaction with his mother; he also knows that he wasn’t in a good place himself to start with, and that if he’d thought a little before speaking, maybe this whole argument could have been avoided.

"T," Jonah says as he drops his backpack on the floor, which looks like a war zone. When he’s down, TK becomes a slob — a few magazines, the remote, and even a sock covering the floor. He hasn't allowed anyone to clean the apartment because he doesn't think he deserves to have nice things. "TK, the principal has sent a letter to—parents." He bites his lip. "I guess that's you, now."

"It's me," TK says softly. He leaves the yoga mat and wipes his sweaty hands on a towel he promptly chucks to the floor. He cringes when he sees the mess; maybe he needs to stop self-pitying and start working on himself. "What's the matter?"

"Everyone says that the school’s closing," Jonah explains as he searches for an envelope in his backpack. He makes a triumphant noise when he grabs it. "Can they close the school? Weren't you working to save it?"

"Let me read it," TK tries to calm his brother. Jonah certainly doesn't need any more changes. He opens the envelope where a neatly written Jonah Zimmer glares at him. The letter is simple; one sheet of paper printed with black letters, containing a tidy line with the place and date and a short paragraph explaining that the Board has decided to shut the school given the insurmountable financial problems that it had been facing.

He realizes three things at once.

One, Carlos had lost his job. Given the timeframe and the fact that the teachers were probably informed a few days before the students to prepare for the onslaught of questions from parents, there was a high chance that it had happened the very same day of their fight.

Two, TK hadn’t even bothered to ask how he was doing, even though he was aware of the delicate situation Carlos was in. Maybe it would’ve explained why Carlos had reacted so poorly in the face of suddenly seeing his parents confronted with TK. Maybe it had just been too much all in one day.

And three, he needs to find a new school for Jonah.

"Shit."

"Is this because you broke up with Mr. Reyes?" Jonah asks innocently. "TK? What are we going to do? It's my school!"

TK shakes his head. He sets the letter aside, along with all his troubled thoughts, andopens his arms. Jonah falls into the embrace, burying his face in TK’s chest. He hugs his little brother tight, trying to come up with the right words to say. None come to mind. Not for the first time, he thinks how unsuited he is to take care of a child on his own; he isn't cut out to comfort Jonah when he himself is still figuring out how to navigate life. But this is the hand they've been dealt — it's just Jonah and TK now, since Enzo didn't have any family left, and TK can't really count on his own father, living in a city over two thousand miles away from them.

"I'll talk to the school’s principal," he says in what he hopes is a reassuring voice, even though he knows it will be pointless. The letter is clear in its finality. "We'll see what we can do," he still promises his little brother.

"If you go there, will you see Mr. Reyes?" Jonah asks hopefully. "You can kiss and make up."

TK's hands travel from Jonah’s shoulders down his arms as he moves his brother a little away from himself. The lack of warmth hits him almost instantly, but he needs to see Jonah’s face when he says his next words.

This has been a constant these past few days. Jonah would ask about Carlos in that naïve way of his, as though life was a fairy tale with a happy ending, and TK would have to reply that they're not actually on speaking terms. It's hard to explain to an eleven-year-old that they broke up over a petty fight that TK should have stopped before it escalated; he can't really imagine how it feels to Jonah, as he has to attend Carlos’ class every day from Monday to Friday, and Math Club twice a week. TK has barely refrained from asking his brother about how Carlos is doing, but, if Carlos is feeling half as bad as TK himself, then TK can tell it’s not looking pretty.

"Carlos and I, we're not—"

"I know you're upset with each other," Jonah cuts him off. "But can't you—"

"This is an adult issue."

He knows his voice sounds tired and snappy, but he has honestly reached the point where he simply can’t do this anymore. It's been three days of Jonah trying to convince him that they can fix what he broke. He's aware of how messed up the situation with Carlos is right now; he knows he had every reason to walk away, but TK didn't let Carlos explain himself. He simply accused the person he's fallen in love with of wanting to shove them right back into the closet, and he stomped away without even looking back. These past three days, there hasn't been a single message from Carlos; not a text apologizing or begging for him to come back. Selfishly, TK wants Carlos to say fuck everything and choose him over his parents, over his shitty job situation. He knows there must be something else, something he isn't getting; something hidden behind those hurtful words Carlos had basically cried out.

I just don’t want to rub their noses in it.

Whatever the hell that meant, it slayed TK’s heart. But, given the perspective of seventy-four hours, twenty-seven minutes and a few seconds of distance — not that he's counting or anything — TK’s adamant to say that he might have had to stay put and demand Carlos to explain instead of assuming and leaving. It broke his heart; he can only imagine how Carlos has been doing.

"You won't be able to use that excuse forever," comes Judd’s voice from the doorway to the bedrooms. He startles TK and makes Jonah giggle at the motion. "At some point, you'll have to give him a proper explanation."

"Yeah!" Jonah almost hollers.

"Maybe," TK concedes. "But today's not that day. Go on, get changed and wash your hands before doing your homework." He watches as his brother grumpily grabs his backpack once again and follows his instructions. Jonah slides past Judd, who pats him affectionately on the shoulder. Once he's left alone with just Judd, he huffs. "Stop undermining my authority."

"I'm not," Judd says in a warm voice, stepping further into the living room. "I'm just pointing out what's evident. The adult issue excuse won't hold much longer. Not how the kid's been coming from school. I know you don't want to hear about it, but Jonah keeps telling Paul, Marjan and I just how sad Carlos looks. I bet his face is similar to yours."

TK shakes his head. He gets up and begins rolling his yoga mat up to have something to keep himself busy with. "Did you know the school's officially closing?" He aims for a change of subject. If Judd catches on the uncertainty with which he speaks, he doesn't say anything.

"Yeah. Grace told me. Tommy's fuming."

TK sighs and points at the letter that's now lying on the floor. "Jonah came back home today with that. I thought we had more time."

"What will happen with the fundraiser?" Judd questions. “It’s pointless to donate the money to the school now that it’s officially closing.”

TK shrugs. There are a few other charities he could work with, but he’s grown attached to this particular project; he believes it’s due to the emotional attachment he’s developed because of Jonah and Carlos. So instead of raking his brain to find another solution, he goes for his usual one.

"I’ll donate to my mother's charity," he mumbles. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Marjan has a very different idea when he relays the situation to his team the following day. She takes a chart out of the bag and explains to him that Alex of all people has decided to donate to his mom's charity. "It's not that you can't," she states. "It's all about the message we'd be sending. Like, you two are back to being in sync."

"We definitely don't want that," TK says with a shudder. "I still don't want to see him."

"I know," Marjan coos him. "But it will only be for a song that Paul managed to get you out of rehearsing. We've asked for separate rooms, as far from each other as possible. It's been granted."

"How did you manage that?"

"Managed what?" Marjan questions, feigning innocence. She inspects her nails as a winning smile creeps up her face. "I'm charming."

"And scary," Paul adds, earning himself a swat from Marjan. TK notices the way he blushes, subtle but present, and files the information for another day. "I think it would be good to stick to our original plan and donate the money to a charity that provides education."

"Have we done some research on that?" Marjan continues, her voice back to being professional. "I can do a few searches, call a couple of friends and—"

"Grace's thought of a charity that might be interesting," Judd pipes in. "She's been, uh, researching."

"Well, spit it," Marjan urges impatiently. "We don't have all day."

"The Enzo Zimmer Charity for Universal Education," Judd says proudly, leaving them all agape. When nobody reacts, he chuckles. "We're not married to the name, though."

TK stares at his friend for a moment, speechless. He would be lying if he'd said he hadn't thought of honoring Enzo’s memory by creating something that might help people in the way Enzo used to help. But hearing it from Judd’s lips, as an idea that's been brought up by Grace, warms TK’s soul.

"It's—it's a wonderful idea," he stutters. "It may need some work, mainly on the license front and everything but—"

"On it!" Marjan exclaims, swiping furiously on her tablet. "I'll make sure the charity is set up and ready to go by the time the fundraiser takes place."

True to her word, Marjan offers him the last of the papers to sign for the charity when he's stepping out of the car at Madison Square Garden where the fundraiser is taking place. He scribbles his name with a flourish and draws the signature he's perfected over the years at the bottom of the last page presented to him, smiling as Marjan closes the clipboard with a clap.

"We're all set," she announces before Paul takes over, placing a hand on the small of TK's back and guiding him inside. "All you have to do is announce the name when you're given your cheque."

TK steps into the dressing room that has been assigned to him and takes in the decoration and the space, enjoying the brief moments of solitude before the show begins. He knows Jonah is with Grace somewhere in the audience; the label doesn’t want anyone in the wings this time. And, while Judd is guarding his door, and Paul and Marjan are doing what they do best and mingling with other managers and social media gurus, TK decides to spend the time he's got left before the beginning of the show by getting ready.

He sets his bag on top of the table beneath a big mirror at the far end of the room. He takes out the different makeup bottles and packages and sorts them out in front of the mirror. He eyes them critically before picking a brush and choosing a couple of foundation tubes.

He's been doing his own makeup since forever, since before his life changed when he met Alex. Even when everyone had wanted him to drop old habits and start acting like the diva he was supposed to be, he'd remained true to himself. However, once Alex's presence in his life became a fixture, TK had begun to give in to small details that he had sworn he would never do. Like letting someone else do his makeup. It had all blown up into his face when, in the early days of their relationship, he had been a guest at a Jesse Corbett show. During the show, Jesse Corbett had insulted him in every possible way without actually saying any offensive word, and in TK’s mind, not being in charge of every little detail such as makeup became forever tied to being humiliated in front of millions of viewers.

TK hadn’t realized until recently what an empty life he had been leading while dating Alex, drifting from one show to the other, from one hotel room to the next, everything planned and accounted for. Everything had been controlled by Alex himself.

And now here he is, alone and lonely in the way Alex had foreshadowed during one of their early fights — when he'd told TK that nobody would ever love him the way Alex did, and how he'd end up on his own if he ever dared to break up with Alex. He bites down a bitter laugh; no matter how right he was in throwing Alex out of his life, the final result is the same.

TK doesn't even have anyone to fall back on; his father is living in Austin, his mother's a memory from a distant past and Enzo is gone.

He places his hands on top of the surface, frowning. He leans in, putting all his weight on his wrists, before allowing himself to actually let go. The sobs wrack his body as he lets himself just feel, and everything he's bottled up inside comes out in wails and shudders.

The knock on the door startles him. When he looks up, he notices how he's ruined the makeup he'd just applied. With swift movements, he grabs a paper towel and wipes his face with it as he shouts, "Come in!"

Paul steps inside, saying, "Five minutes till you're needed onstage!" but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees TK furiously trying to fix his makeup.

"What's wrong, TK?" he asks carefully. He approaches the mirror with slow steps, as though he’s walking towards a wounded animal. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he mumbles as he reapplies the foundation. "I'm being stupid."

"I'm sure it isn't stupid," Paul insists. "Talk to me."

"It's just—" TK sighs, trying to order his thoughts before they get out of his mouth in a flood. "I'm going to end up alone, aren't I? Everyone leaves at some point."

"Or you kick them out," Paul adds. When TK glares at him, his friend only shrugs. "It won't be like this forever," he says, aiming for a softer approach. "One day, someone's going to want your voice as the soundtrack to the rest of their life."

TK huffs. He doesn't know how to convey all his feelings in one single sentence. It’s not that he's scared this will last forever; it's that he's terrified of becoming less and less himself and finally getting lost in the midst of someone else's dreams. It happened with Alex, and he luckily got out.

"I’m not scared of loving," he settles for saying. "I’m scared of losing myself all over again."

"Not this time," Paul assures him. He grabs one of TK's brushes and helps him with the makeup. "I know what you mean. When I was transitioning, I thought I'd never be able to just be myself. I learned I wasn't alone, and I know you're not alone. Maybe it feels like it, but you're not."

Together, they finish getting TK ready and they exit the room hastily right when his name's being called through the speakers. They reach the platform that will take him up to the stage, a memory of the last time TK was in a place like this one. Despite knowing that Alex no longer holds any power over him; despite knowing that he’ll only have to get through performing one song with him for no longer than three minutes , TK shivers. But he quickly shakes it off. He can do this.

He needs to.

Besides, there are other songs to be performed before he has to face Alex again.

When the platform is about to start chiming, Marjan shows up, brandishing her clipboard like it is a weapon. "Wait a second!" she cries out. "I have news!"

"Marj," Paul tries to stop her. "He's about to go live."

"It'll literally take five seconds," she pants as she catches her breath. "Remember how these other big names are performing later tonight as well?" Without waiting for any of them to reply, she continues, "Ricky Martin wants a word with you later, when you're off the stage."

"What?" both TK and Paul screech, but the platform starts moving. "Shit, I need more information!"

"I'll catch you up when you finish," Marjan smiles. "Now go and blind them!"

The platform moves him up at the same time as the MC is talking, introducing him. His mind is racing a mile a minute, thoughts of why Ricky Martin would want to talk to him of all people cluttering his brain. He’s just a simple man from New York City who once dreamed of singing; Ricky Martin is an internationally renown star who’s also a beacon for the queer community. He’s honored to just be on his radar.

When he reaches the stage, he manages to hear, "—our very own New York native! You all should know that this year’s theme is all his idea! Please give it up to our master mind, TK Strand!"

He smiles broadly as the stage lights blind him, waving in front of him to where he thinks the audience is. He inhales deeply and says, "Thank you, Mel, for this nice introduction."

The speaker smiles at him, her ponytail bouncing at her back. "The stage is yours!"

He winks at her as he takes the microphone set and situates himself in the middle of the stage. The lights dim, allowing him to see the first few rows of the audience; he can spot Grace and Jonah in the front row, and he wildly wonders if Carlos has come despite everything. A brief scan of the same front row lets him know that Leyre is there, escorted by Tommy , with the twins at her other side, and Nancy and Mateo closing ranks. There’s no sign of Carlos; for a moment, TK wishes he was there. But he can’t blame him for not wanting to see him ever again.

He clears his throat.

"Thank you very much for coming tonight," he begins. "I know you all are waiting for one song in particular"—he laughs as the crowd cheers—"but before that happens, I would love to sing a new song I've written. This is not something I've ever sung before, so I hope you enjoy it!”

He motions for an assistant to bring him his guitar, which has been ready for him in the wings, and feigns tuning it to gain a few seconds to center himself. This is by far the most personal song he’s written in a while — since before he met Alex — and it’s also the first one where he bares his soul in such a way that it’s evident for him who it is aimed at. He tuts into the microphone before announcing, “This is called After Love.”

The first few notes fill the air, suddenly charged in an almost silent venue.

He gets ready for the chorus, looking up from his guitar.

Long nights in your car, mornings in your arms

From five-hour calls to nothing at all

I guess I missed the signs, the writing on the wall

Don't know where it all went wrong

But if this is how it's got to be

I need someone to tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me

TK’s fingers keep caressing the strings of the guitar as he launches into the next verse, baring his soul even more than he already has. It feels exhilarating — freeing in every possible sense of the word.

What comes after love?

I want to know there's something for me after us

I don't think my heart was made to break this much

Tell me there's a happy ever after love

Tell me there's a happy ever after us

His voice wavers as he tries to sing the rest of the song, struggling with his own words as tears finally fall from his eyes.

I know you said that this was meant to be

Now these words are ancient history

At least I get to keep the memories, oh

Mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall

Will somebody catch me when I fall?

So then I'll keep on dancing on my own

I believe, I believe—

He lowers his head against the microphone once the song ends, not ready to face the audience yet, but the cheering and ovation that fills his ears make him look up. The whole venue is on their feet, clapping and shouting. TK sees Jonah in the front row, hugging Leyre while Grace and Tommy cheer next to them. In the wings, when he looks over there out of the corner of his eye, he sees Marjan wiping discreetly at her eyes while Paul holds her.

I believe in love

Even if, even if it wasn't meant for us

I believe, I believe

I believe in love

I just need someone to tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me

What comes after love?

I want to know there's something for me after us

I don't think my heart was made to break this much

Tell me there's a happy ever after love

Tell me there's a happy ever after us

“Thank you,” he mumbles into the microphone. “Thank you so much.”

His heart is swelling with all the love he can feel oozing from the crowd. Their energy is contagious, and it convinces TK that he can do anything — he can sing with Alex, he can deal with heartbreak, he can try to talk to Carlos and apologize and let him explain. He can try to right his wrongs.

He can try to find his happily ever after.

* ~ * ~ *

Carlos feels like he’s walking on the edge of a precipice for weeks after TK slams the door to his apartment and on their relationship. When it happened, he’d been too stunned to actually do something about it; he wishes he had run after TK, begged for forgiveness, tried to explain the reasons behind his weird relationship with his parents. But he hadn’t been able to make himself move from his spot, frozen on the couch. But he hadn’t done any of that. He hadn’t chased after TK. He hadn’t thought he was worthy of being heard.

Carlos firmly believes he deserved to be walked all over after everything he’d found out, after everything that tied his past to TK’s and the pain his chosen family had inflicted on TK’s biological one. That, combined with the fresh feeling of not even belonging into TK’s world, was simply too much.

At first, Nancy and Mateo attempt to get him to talk about what happened; his friends don’t take no for an answer and grill him for every tiny detail of his last interaction with TK. Tommy and Grace, who Carlos doesn’t doubt knows the other side of the story, remain silent as Nancy and Mateo ask and ask with no answer from Carlos. He thinks he’s seen Grace shake her head in disapproval at him more than once while they’re out on their traditional Saturday get-together, but he can’t be sure. His own guilty mind might just be playing tricks on him, who knows.

All he knows is that the days seem to mesh together in swirls of gray.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Leyre asks him as she’s tying her Converse, a few hours before the fundraiser show begins.

“I’m sure,” he tells her from his safe haven on the windowsill, where he’s perched with a blanket and a book. “You go and have fun with Evie and Izzie.”

“Am I allowed to hug Jonah?” she asks with all the innocence her big bright eyes can convey. It breaks Carlos’ heart to know that he’s put that doubt in her heart. “I’m not sure we’ll see him, there will be tons of people but—”

“Of course you’re allowed to hug Jonah!” he interrupts her earnestly. “I haven’t forbidden you from talking to him or hanging out with him at school. Why would you say that?”

“I’m not sure if TK would want him to hang out with me,” she explains simply. She brushes aside one rebellious lock of hair that has escaped her ponytail before continuing. “At school, he doesn’t know. But this is his concert. What if he doesn’t want me there?”

“He sent the tickets,” Carlos reminds her. “He wants you to be there. He wouldn’t have mailed the tickets if he didn’t want you to go. I doubt he doesn’t want Jonah and you to keep being friends.”

“I kinda liked the idea of us being siblings,” she mumbles as the doorbell rings, signaling that either Tommy or Nancy and Mateo are already here. “I’ll get it,” she offers when he moves to stand up.

It turns out to be Tommy, from the squeals he can hear as the twins barrel into his apartment. He smiles softly as the girls switch easily from English to Spanish; he's proud to say that he's also honored both his heritage and that of the woman who helped Iris as he's been raising Leyre.

"Hey, stranger," Tommy greets, coming to stand in front of him. "I feel like I only see you at school anymore."

"Are you not counting the Saturdays with Grace?" he asks in lieu of greeting. "I haven’t been feeling that well," he admits at her raised eyebrow.

"That much I could tell." She doesn't say anything else; Carlos is aware that the way he's feeling — or how everyone thinks he’s feeling — is common knowledge. After all, the most popular gossip magazines ran a few issues the three weeks after the breakup where they splashed his private life — not that there was much to find, thanks for his lack of social media — for everyone to see, including a few snapshots of him looking grim as he walked to school with his daughter. He thinks TK's lawyers might have had something to do with the fact that the magazines dropped the issue of the breakup quickly after one of them leaked Leyre’s name; Carlos had thought about suing them himself, but a few hours after posting the information online the same magazine had published an apology and a rectification. That smelled of a Paul Strickland intervention through and through.

"Why don't you come with us?" Tommy asks. She sits beside him on the windowsill. "TK sent enough tickets for all of us for a reason. He wants you to be there. Maybe he wants to apologize."

Carlos shakes his head. If anyone were to apologize, it should be him. "I'm good here, Tommy. Promise. I have my book and I have my blanket."

"Are you ever going to talk about what prompted that fight?" Her voice is gentle, not prying. Carlos knows Tommy Vega enough to understand that she's not out for his blood; she's trying to help him out. "And I'm not saying you have to tell me or Nancy or Mateo. But you should tell someone. Whatever it was, it's eating you alive. It seems like you're blaming yourself when TK was the one who walked all over you."

"He had his reasons," he mumbles. "I really don't want to talk about this."

She smiles sadly. "You were so good together, Carlos. I'm so sorry it didn't work out."

"Yeah, me too," he says, forcing a brave smile on his face. "But it reaches a point where you need to know when to let go. We weren't going anywhere. It was just—a dream." He sighs. "I'd better give up on the utopia of finding love."

"Love finds you when you're ready," Tommy retaliates. "I'll bring Leyre back home safe and sound," she adds casually, her way of telling him that she's dropping the subject until next time.

"Hey, Tommy," he calls after her before she turns around. "Is Julius in town for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, why?"

"My parents are coming to town, and I've invited Nancy and Mateo. Why don't y'all come, bring Julius with you?" He winks at her. "I'd love to have my family together just this once. We're flying to Austin for Christmas."

He watches as she processes his invitation. Tommy isn’t a woman who enjoys showing that she needs people, Carlos knows that much — she’s always had to be the strong one, first when she moved to New York City following her husband’s dream, and then when Charles died and left her to raise their children on her own. She’s a fighter, but that also means she believes she can’t show any weakness. Carlos knows Thanksgiving and Christmas are by far the hardest holidays for her; it’s just normal that he wants to help her in any capacity he can. He just hopes she doesn’t shut him down.

“That would be amazing,” she replies, a traitorous gleam in her eyes. “We’ll go down to Austin for Christmas too, since Julius will be there as well. Maybe we can catch up there as well. But for now, we’ll be honored to come for your family’s Thanksgiving.”

Carlos huffs a little laugh. “It’s our family celebration,” he tells her. “You guys are as much family to me as my parents are. Even if I don’t always show it.”

“I’m glad you consider us your family, because we do consider you ours,” Tommy says with a smile. “Even if you’re stubborn enough to keep yourself from one of the most amazing things that have ever happened to you.”

Carlos shakes his head without replying, letting her take the girls out the door to meet with Nancy and Mateo. He turns to his book, fully intending on focusing on it, but it’s not long before he drops it in his lap and favors staring outside the window. He’s not sure how long he remains in the same position, gaze lost in the tall buildings that make the city’s skyline that he’s grown to love, before a noise inside the apartment catches his attention. When he turns to the source of the sound, he realizes the television is on; Leyre must have left it turned on by accident. On the screen, a woman with a ponytail is talking to the audience in what looks like Madison Square Garden. Carlos sighs.

So it was deliberate.

He could turn it off. He could change stations and listen to the news that he’s sure he will find if he searches hard enough. But he doesn’t even try to reach for the remote; he stays seated on the windowsill, perched against the window and wrapped in a blanket that still smells like TK Strand, and watches as the fundraiser starts that his now ex-boyfriend had helped set up to save an already doomed school.

His already doomed school.

The song TK sings on his own slays Carlos in ways that he isn’t ready to admit. It’s a chant to love and to hope, an anthem for lost souls, a testimony that one can survive heartbreak even though it can leave you scarred for life. He lowers his head, hugging his knees until his cheek rests against the hard bone beneath his sweatpants. The sharpness of his knee keeps him grounded in a way nothing else, not even the cold weather outside, has been capable of.

TK looks thinner, his face more somber, his eyes lacking the spark that usually comes when he has one of his bright ideas. He looks like a shadow of himself, a shell of a man; but then Alex comes on stage and their joint song is announced. Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever seen TK school his features faster than in that moment, at least not in the few months they’ve dated. The man on that stage suddenly seems surer than before, his movements more fluid. It’s the same TK Strand he used to see in the posters Leyre had shown him before the concert that changed his life forever.

With a start, Carlos realizes that the man he’s watching unraveling the lyrics of a song about forever love is just a persona. It’s TK-Strand-the-singer, not the real TK. Carlos has had the real TK, he’s touched that soul with his fingertips, and he let him go. If he’s being honest with himself, he threw TK away as unceremoniously as he could, causing more damage in the aftermath of his bad decisions than ever before in his life. And he hadn’t seen a hint of that TK in any of his other public appearances — Carlos will never admit to anyone that he’s watched TK’s interviews in the solitude of his bedroom — until TK had sung After Love on that stage.

Carlos has always suspected that celebrities hide behind a mask as much as they need to, depending on how big their names become. Despite not having really given much thought to the idea of TK Strand before getting to know him, Carlos had believed the man that smiled back at him from the posters hung on Leyre’s room walls wasn’t all that there was to TK. He’s had the chance to learn about the person behind the cardboard cutout. He’s had the privilege to love TK for who he is without the gleam and shine of red carpets and camera flashes.

And only now, when he witnesses as TK slips back into the singer-persona everyone loves, the person who doesn’t feel anything that’s not love or happiness, Carlos realizes what he’s lost.

It never hurt this deep before with any other breakup because he had never ever actually fallen in love. Not until TK Strand.

Carlos doesn’t try to dry the tears that race down his face as the rest of the artists perform, his mind forever stuck on the twitch of TK’s lips and the sadness concealed beneath layers and layers of pretending.

Carlos is still mulling over this realization when he dances around the kitchen to help his mother with the traditional Reyes Thanksgiving dinner a few days later. Andrea Reyes is a force to be reckoned with while she cooks, her fingers deftly shaping the small buns she's making for dessert as she guides him when he begins stuffing the turkey. He's always helped his mother during the preparations of big holidays dinners, such as Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter and the different birthdays, so he's now a pro at mixing the right amount of spices and at creating unique flavors which surprise his guests. Leyre has always profited from his passion for cooking; she prefers his meals to anyone else's, except for her Abuela Andrea. Carlos had long ago given up on trying to live up to his mother's legendary tamales, and has learned to enjoy them whenever he can have them instead of trying — and spectacularly failing — at replicating them.

"You're distracted, Carlitos," his mother says out of the blue at the same time as he opens the oven to stick the turkey inside and burns his fingertips. "Ven aquí, déjame ver."

"It's nothing," he says with a shrug. He doesn't want to give a simple burn an importance it doesn't have, but his mother shakes her head and tsks at him. He obeys reluctantly. "I can deal with a small burn."

"You should know better than that," Andrea says sternly. "I thought your best friend was a nurse."

"And a former paramedic," Tommy says from the doorway. When Carlos turns to look at her, he can see she's holding a half-empty glass of wine. "Can I see?"

"It's just a burn," he mumbles as Tommy inspects the injury and deems him fit to keep working after applying some cream from her ever-present medical bag. "Use gloves."

"I can't cook with gloves!" he protests, but the combined glare from his mother and his friend shuts him up. "It's not fair that you gang up on me."

"Wait until Leyre sees that," his mother states, pointing at his finger. "Our level of ganging up, as you call it, has nothing on that girl's."

Carlos huffs out a sigh. He knows his daughter worries about him a lot; it isn't going to be pretty when she notices. She usually goes feral if he so much as cuts himself while chopping vegetables for dinner, and her protectiveness has spiked by a thousand ever since the breakup with TK. “It’s just a burn,” he tries once more. “Please, don’t make this a bigger deal than it is.”

Tommy smiles at him. “Do you need any more help with dinner?” she asks.

“Oh, no, no,” Andrea says as she tries to shoo Tommy out of the kitchen. “You’re a guest today, you just go out there and enjoy the game and the wine.”

“Okay,” Tommy acquiesces. “But once we’re all in Austin for Christmas, I expect you and Gabriel at mine for dinner, and then you will be the guests.”

“Count on it,” Andrea promises. “Now, go!”

Once they’re left alone in the kitchen, Carlos busies himself with fixing the mashed potatoes. He hopes the rest of time they spend preparing the food will be quiet, but his hopes are crushed when his mother says, “I’ve been thinking, when will you be arriving in Austin for Christmas?”

“Uh, night before Christmas Eve, but I’m not sure about the time,” he offers. “I need to check it. Do you need the exact timetable now?”

“No,” his mother says with a warm smile. “You can confirm it later. And,” she adds, trying to make it sound like it’s an afterthought, but Carlos knows her well enough to be aware that it, in fact, isn’t. “Will you be bringing your friend TK with you?”

“What?” Carlos halts his movements mid-mash, arm stretched at an awkward angle, as he stares agape at his mother. “Why on Earth would I be bringing—” He splutters, unable to finish his question, too taken aback by both the fact that his mother remembered TK’s name correctly and the fact that she remembered TK, period.

“Because he’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” Andrea Reyes, Carlos had discovered throughout the years, could be many things, but when it concerned her son, she was never subtle. “At least, that’s what all the gossip magazines and Jesse Corbett say. Not that you’ve told your mother or anything.” There’s no reproach in her voice, just concern and that smidge of love that always shines through her words whenever she talks to him.

Carlos doesn’t look at her, all of a sudden too self-conscious and embarrassed to even hold her gaze. He thought his mother wouldn’t follow any of the celebrity gossip, and it turns out she’s been well aware of what has been going on in his life. He blushes; he’s ashamed that he wasn’t the one to tell her.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” he mumbles. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in my—my love life.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His mother stops what she’s doing and rounds the counter to stand right beside him. “You’re my son. I’m always interested in whatever you want to tell me.”

“I’m sorry you found out in this way,” he stutters. “It’s just that—” He doesn’t know how to convey everything he’s feeling right now, so he settles for, “I was scared of telling you.”

She stares at him with a mix of fondness and exasperation in her gaze, tainted with what Carlos can only imagine is hurt. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and when she speaks, her voice is thready. “I don’t think I understand, mijo. Why would you be scared of telling me? Have I ever—Carlos, have I ever made you feel like I didn’t—”

He inhales deeply. He can feel a headache building from the way his blood is pulsing in his ears and the sting of tears in the back of his eyes. He lifts two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep them at bay, but only manages to be half successful at it when he speaks with a trembling voice. "You never said anything about—me."

"What was there to say?" His mother sounds genuinely shocked and upset. "I won't lie and tell you that when you told us that, uh, you are, ehm—"

"Gay, mamá," he supplies. It comes out harsher than he intended. Before he can apologize, his mother is speaking again.

"It rocked our world, Carlitos. We were—shocked could be a suitable word. But we still loved you back then and we love you now. That's only a part of who you are, and it could never be something that would make us not love you anymore."

"But you never said anything!" he repeats, throwing his hands up in the air. The tears are falling freely now, and he couldn't care less about the shakiness of his own voice. "The next morning, it was as if I—I hadn't said anything. Papá was reading the newspaper and he commented on the Astros bullpen and the—the price of unleaded and that new calf that had been born overnight at the family ranch. Nothing about—about who I was. Who I am. Not then. Not ever."

His mother reaches out and pulls him into a hug. Their height difference is more evident now that he needs to bend down to fall into her embrace, but he goes willingly, like the teenager he'd been once upon a time. "I'm sorry, mijo," she mutters into his curls. "We thought it’d be better if we went on as though nothing had changed, because for us, nothing really had. You were our little boy, you still are. I see now how it must have looked from the outside. I'm sorry we made you think we didn't approve or like you had to hide that part of yourself from us."

"Me too," he sniffles.

They remain like that for longer than Carlos would have liked; his back will give him hell in the morning, but he will endure the pain because it means that he's got his mother back.

"So, about TK," his mother begins when they separate.

"There's nothing about TK," he cuts her off before she can continue. "I won't be inviting him because we're no longer together."

"How so? Do I need to have some words with him?"

"Mamá, you don't even have his number."

"I can get it from Tommy. Don't you test me."

"It's not pretty," he whispers. "And it has a lot to do with me and with my grief and my insecurities." He doesn't think it will do any good to confess now that his fear of being open to his parents played a big part in that last argument; that'll be a conversation for another time, if ever. "I just wanted to feel at home with someone. He, um, he wasn't it."

"Home is wherever the grief washes off your hands with the most ease," his mother says wisely. "Did you ever feel at home with TK?"

He reflects on the question. Truthfully, he knows he's never been more at ease with someone — he's never been more himself — than when he was with TK. Right there in the singer's arms, or spending time playing with Jonah, or watching as TK and Leyre bonded over music, or simply enjoying the silence, the four of them together — that had been the happiest he's ever been in his life.

He realizes now that he felt invincible because he loved and was loved; maybe there's a way to apologize to TK. Even if they never get back to how it was, Carlos knows he at least owes TK the truth.

He opens his mouth to reply to his mother when Mateo barrels into the kitchen. "Carlos! Your father has just received the best news!"

"What?" He turns around to face his friend.

"Come to the living room! Come, come on!"

Carlos exchanges a glance with his mother before they both rush to the living room, the tamales momentarily forgotten as the turkey roasts in the oven. There’s a group surrounding Gabriel Reyes; Nancy and Tommy look up from the small screen of a phone that Carlos recognizes as his father’s and Tommy mouths you won’t believe this before his father calls for him.

“Carlos, let me introduce you to Captain Owen Strand,” Gabriel says in an even voice. “He’s the father of your friend TK.”

“I’m—I’m aware,” he stammers. He doesn’t correct his father, but he feels his mother’s hand squeezing his arm. “Pleased to meet you, sir,” he greets, perching himself on the back of his couch and waving awkwardly at the screen. He’s amazed at the sheer resemblance between TK and his father.

“Same here, Carlos. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Captain Strand says with a smile. Carlos’ heart skips a beat before he realizes Captain Strand most probably is talking about his parents and not TK. “I’ve been told you’re on the lookout for a job as a teacher, right?”

“Sadly, the school we all work at is closing at the end of the semester.”

“Then I have good news for you!” Captain Strand beams, and the similarities between that smile and TK’s feel like a slap to Carlos’ face. “I know of a new school that will be opening next school year, and they’re looking for young teachers.”

“¡Es el destino!!” Andrea exclaims.

Carlos frowns at the screen. Captain Strand lives in Austin, so there’s no way in hell that he knows of a school in New York City unless TK has been talking to him. He doesn’t want to keep his hopes up just in case, and a second later, Tommy crushes him when she asks, “I have to ask, what’s the catch?”

“I’m afraid the school’s not located in your area,” Captain Strand says almost apologetically. “But I’ve been told you all could have a job there, so maybe you’d be interested in relocating.”

“Relocating where?” Carlos asks, but he feels like he has the answer. He needs to think of Leyre and her life in the city, of her friends and the opportunities she’ll have if they stay in New York.

But there won’t be any opportunities for her if he doesn’t work.

“The school’s opening in Austin,” Captain Strand explains. “But by a coincidence it seems you all are from around here so wouldn’t it be like coming back home?”

Carlos looks around as his friends stare at each other and at the screen alternatively, gazes blown up with giddiness and fright; they’ve all been in New York far longer than they had anticipated, and Carlos can imagine that for most of them, coming back home sounds like music to their ears. Carlos and Tommy look at each other; they’re the only ones who can’t only think about themselves. In Tommy’s eyes, Carlos sees a question and a determined stare.

“—and they’re willing to interview all of you over Christmas if you’re able to come to town,” Captain Strand is saying when Carlos focuses back on the call. “Gabriel and I, we may have put in a good word for you.”

“You don’t even know us!” Mateo almost shrieks in his excitement. Carlos cringes.

“But I do,” Gabriel says. “I’ve known you for the best part of seven years. You’re my son’s family too. I will vouch for you.”

“So, what do you say?” Captain Strand asks them all. “I know the principal. She’s a good friend.”

“You mean girlfriend, right?” Andrea teases fondly.

With a start, Carlos realizes that his parents have bonded with Captain Strand, and he didn’t have a clue. He’s distanced himself so much that not only has he prevented them from learning about him, but he’s also missed so many things in his parents’ lives. Another thing to add to the list of regrets, he thinks.

“Whatever, Andrea.”

“Don’t whatever me, Owen!” she exclaims playfully.

“So, what do you say? You up for an interview?”

Mateo and Nancy don’t even stop to think; they both agree to an interview. Carlos envies them, and their carefreeness. There’s more to it than the mere idea of going to an interview, Captain Strand’s words loaded with a meaning that doesn’t get lost on Carlos. It means making a decision; it means potentially uprooting everything Leyre has ever known and moving her back to where he grew up. It means leaving the city that’s been his home and the place where he’s known love like never before.

It means going against Iris’ wish.

He debates with himself, his heart and his mind warring in the arena of his soul.

In the end, he knows which side of him will win. Because he now knows what’s best for Leyre, for himself, for them as a family, and all he can do is hope that Iris will know that too and forgive him for going against her wishes at last.

“Yeah,” he answers, earning himself a whoop from the room. “I think I’d like that interview in Austin, sir.”

#the fic #lire's 911lsbb #forever in a second too short (home is a heartbeat)#911lsbb #chapter 9

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doublel27 · 2 years

Text

let our hearts beat here - E - 4.6k

In the face of time off, Carlos decides to take TK up to Hill Country because they deserve that. (part of the More Cow-Eyes series)

TK/Carlos - episode coda 3.10 parental guidance, fluff with light angst, feels, blow job, sweet/spicy/soft vibes, impulsive vacation, these boys need a vacation.

Happy Birthday @missgeevious

Read on AO3

TK: were all at pauls if you want to come by after shift

Carlos smiles at TK’s text. He’s got an hour left on this shift and he would like nothing more than to show up for Paul. Carlos hasn’t seen him since he was in the hospital due to the way his schedule has been the past few days. Normally, Carlos wouldn’t have kept his phone on him during a shift, but ever since the ice storm, Carlos hasn’t been able to leave it in his locker.

Before Carlos can respond, the radio crackles to life as the dispatcher asks for units to report to a multi-car pileup on 35 Southbound. He’s only five minutes out. Carlos sighs before clicking the switch on his radio. “363-H-20 responding.”

“Copy 363-H-20,” dispatch responds.

Carlos taps out a quick message.

Carlos: Just got a call. Probably be late tonight. See you at home?

TK: 👍🏻💖

TK: stay safe

Carlos: Always

Carlos turns the engine over and puts on the siren and lights. When he does finally let himself into the loft, it’s past three in the morning. The house is dark and still, the sound of the refrigerator and the air conditioning the only real noise. Carlos puts his things carefully up and away before heading toward the bedroom.

TK is curled up in the bed. He’s yanked Carlos’s pillow over halfway onto his side, under his head and has burritoed himself in blankets. Carlos leans against the wall and watches carefully. TK looks peaceful and Carlos hasn’t seen him asleep like this, where TK sleeps like the dead and only wakes for the particular sound of alarms and bells, since the awful phone call that tilted their world on its axis. Carlos rubs at the ache underneath his sternum. The last year hasn’t been easy—hell the last two—but Carlos doesn’t regret any of it. Having TK makes up for all of the chaos that blew into Carlos’s life with his advent. As much as he would prefer to keep TK from harm, Carlos knows that’s not how the world works. He’s really glad to be a partner, though, to help shoulder the burden.

Pushing off the wall, Carlos crosses the room and presses a kiss to TK’s temple, earning himself a soft groan and TK burying himself even further down into the bed. Carlos straightens and begins his nightly routine. He’s halfway through brushing his teeth when the idea hits him. Carlos finishes up, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth out quickly. If he moves quickly, he can be ready before TK wakes up and maybe surprise him. By the time the sun is peeking into the loft, Carlos has closed up the cooler as the sound of rustling sheets hits his ears. He moves the cooler to the door where the other bags he’s packed sit. When TK’s feet start padding out of the bedroom Carlos is heading to intercept him.

“Hey baby,” TK says, his eyes still mostly closed and crinkled at the corners. He rubs at his forehead, his sweatshirt sleeve over his hand. “The bed was cold. Did you sleep at all?”

Carlos closes the distance, taking TK’s hips in his hands. He dips his head a little to catch TK’s eyes. “So, I had an idea, and if you think it’s crazy—”

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” TK says, offering Carlos the lopsided grin he’s missed.

“What if we went on a trip?” Carlos asks, more convinced by the moment he’s made the right call.

TK’s expression shifts from amused to confused. His hands land on Carlos’s shoulders as he tilts his head. “Where?”

“We, inexplicably, have the next sixty hours off, together. I don’t know what miracle of scheduling managed that, but what if we got out of town? No planes, just a drive up into Hill Country.”

Continue on AO3

#911 ls fic #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #rated e #all heat is in the middle of the story #vacation #userac #tuserlaney #doublel27 writes #more cow eyes #carlos reyes codas

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

dancing on the edge of something new

huge thanks to alice ( @reyeslonestar ) for letting me talk this through with her at midnight when it was causing me huge trouble 🥰

five dances in tk and carlos’s life

ao3 | 2.3k | @911fluffweek day 3: getting together // dancing

TK looks over when Carlos slides off the hood of the Camaro, his hand trailing after him until he’s forced to let go. Carlos is smiling almost shyly, shifting from one foot to the other, and TK can’t help but smile back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Carlos?” he prompts, confusion growing as no explanation is forthcoming. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I just, uh…” He bites his lip, then takes a decisive step forward and holds out a hand, cocking a brow suggestively. “Wanna dance?”

TK laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, but he’s already sitting up and placing his hand in Carlos’s, allowing him to pull him off the car and to his feet.

“Well”—Carlos shrugs, yanking TK close and smiling at the oof he makes when their chests collide—“it’s how we began, isn’t it? I figured, if we’re starting again, then it feels only right, no?”

TK stares, stuck dumb, unable to do anything but follow Carlos’s lead as his arms slip around his waist, guiding them into a gentle sway. He rests his own hands on Carlos’s chest, the realisation that he gets to do this now—gets to touch Carlos and be with him like this—hitting him all over again. To think he almost threw it all away… Well, none of that matters anymore. What matters is that they’re here, dancing in a field with no music save for the shuffle of their feet in the grass and the occasional bird or cricket, like a pair of lovesick idiots in a romcom.

And he’s never been happier.

He slides his hands up until his arms are resting loosely around Carlos’s shoulders, fingers playing with the stray curls at the nape of his neck. He stares into those familiar brown eyes, so full of warmth and light, Carlos cast in the beautiful glow of the Northern Lights above them, and TK feels an intense feeling take root in his chest. It’s not love—not yet—but it will be.

He can’t imagine not falling in love with Carlos Reyes.

ii.

The club lights strobe around them, bathing the room alternately in lurid colours and strange shadows. The place is packed, the doors practically straining on their hinges, but the only thing TK is aware of is Carlos’s body moving against his own, their movements perfectly in sync with each other.

It’s been a while since they were last about to do this, to come out and just let loose for the night. In fact, TK thinks the last time might have been when they were out with Paul what seems like a lifetime ago; so much has changed since, and TK feels like a completely different person to who he was back then.

He and Carlos have officially been together for a few months now, but it’s like the universe has been working to stop them from actually being able to enjoy it. They’ve managed to squeeze in some dates here and there, but between the shooting, the solar storm, TK’s medical leave, and weeks of opposing shifts, getting a moment to themselves has been difficult.

But now, finally, they have one. And TK is going to milk it for all it’s worth.

He turns slightly in Carlos’s grasp, his head tilting up to catch his lips in a searing kiss. Carlos grips TK’s hips tighter, pulling them flush against his own as he deepens the kiss, and TK gasps, a sharp thrill shooting down his spine.

The night stretches out blissfully in front of them, the knowledge that this isn’t just a fling that will end with the cold light of dawn making it all the sweeter. It’s still a little surreal, even now, but it also feels so damn right.

TK’s heart hammers in time with the music and he sinks into Carlos’s hold, losing himself in his heat.

iii.

It’s not that TK never felt at home at the condo. The opposite in fact; Carlos’s place had been home even before he could officially call it his, and he feels the loss of it keenly. The thing is, though, even after he’d fully moved in, it had been a struggle to think of it as theirs.

It had been home, sure, but it had also been Carlos’s place.

Carlos had found it a little funny, and it had taken several slip-ups on TK’s part and just as many gentle corrections on his for TK to get used to our dining room, and our bedroom, and our house.

And then—well. Just as he’d started to get used to it, it was all gone. Ashes. It hurt, deeply, but TK knew that it was his turn to be the one to lean on, to let Carlos be the one to set the pace. Carlos had lived there for years, after all, and what was TK’s month compared to that?

Really, anywhere that Carlos is would be home, but this—holding the keys to a house they’d picked out together, a house they’d signed the lease for together, a house they’d picked the furnishings for together—feels like coming home.

He hates that it was the condo burning down that got them to this stage, but TK can’t stop a grin from emerging on his face as he slips his key into the lock.

He finds Carlos in the kitchen, humming and shimmying to a song playing from the speakers. To his credit, TK really does try to bite back his laughter, but he can’t quite manage it, letting out a loud snort which has Carlos stopping in his tracks, flushing a deep red.

“I see the unpacking’s going well,” he says, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning a hip against it.

“It was, actually,” Carlos defends, still blushing. “I didn’t realise you’d be back this soon.”

TK shakes his head; as adorable as Carlos’s embarrassment is, he needs to let him know he’s not making fun. “You can relax, babe. You know I always love seeing you move those hips.”

“Mmm, don’t I know it.” Carlos leans in and kisses him, lingering a moment before pulling back, a wide smirk on his face. “How about you help me finish unpacking here and we’ll see about showing you more of that hip action later?”

TK grumbles, but does as he’s told, the two of them falling into a comfortable rhythm as they work to getting their house in order. It’s ended up being the perfect blend of their different styles, which probably shouldn’t work together, but somehow do, and TK loves it here. They both do, he knows—nothing will ever replace what they lost in the fire, but being able to build a home together is beyond special.

He keeps sneaking glances at Carlos as the afternoon goes on—sue him, his boyfriend is built like a Greek god—and TK smiles when he realises Carlos has started dancing again. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, which makes the whole thing so much better.

TK watches for a while, then walks up to Carlos and taps him on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” he asks, gesturing to the wooden spoons he was twirling around.

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before Carlos’s eyes light up with realisation. He barely wastes a second in tossing the spoons aside (though, it’s more like a careful placement in the correct drawer) and grabs TK by the hand, sending him into a literal spin.

TK laughs, taking a moment to right himself after the sudden movement caused him to stumble inelegantly. Neither of them are in time with the music as they dance around the kitchen, carefully avoiding the boxes still scattered around, but it’s not important.

For the first time in his life, TK feels fully, completely at home. It’s not a feeling he wants to let go of.

iv.

“I think they were expecting something slower,” TK murmurs, burying a laugh in Carlos’s neck. Their guests are all wearing expressions with varying degrees of shock, and he can’t really blame them—he’s pretty sure the last thing anyone expects to hear during a first dance at a wedding is a country song. “I still can’t believe you even remember it.”

Carlos shrugs. “I still can’t believe you don’t. It is our song, after all.”

TK rolls his eyes, remembering their first conversation on this topic months ago, back when they were still sorting out all the wedding minutiae.

“‘Our’ song, babe?” he’d said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Why, because we danced to it for five minutes before leaving to get off in the bathroom?”

“Exactly,” Carlos had replied, his tone so serious that TK wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not. He’d rolled his eyes and lightly shoved at TK’s shoulder. “No, babe. Because it was the first time we danced together on the night that we met. That’s special, right, even if it did only last five minutes?”

TK hadn’t exactly been able to argue that one, and he has to admit now that it was a pretty good choice. If only to see the way Judd almost choked on his champagne in surprise when the song started.

It’s a little untraditional and, if he’s being honest, TK had never thought that one day he would be getting married in Texas on his new husband’s family ranch, with their first dance being to a ‘cowboy song’, as he’d once called it, much to Carlos’s horror. But he and Carlos have never been ones for tradition, and TK wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s perfect,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s. He stops the dance, not caring that the song is still playing, and steps closer, pressing their bodies together. Everything else fades into the background as he leans up and kisses Carlos, barely moving when they break apart. “I love you, Husband.”

Carlos’s face lights up in a grin that could rival the sun in its brightness. “I love you too, Husband.”

Music is floating through the door when TK gets home, and it’s enough to alleviate the weight he’s been carrying all day. It’s not that it had been a bad shift per se (though, when your standards for a good day are ‘nobody dies’, your view tends to get a bit skewed) but it had been long and tiring, and he’d missed his family desperately.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe this is really his life. But Ana, now three, has been living with them for a year already, and TK can’t imagine their home without her anymore. She’d been a blessing, coming into their lives after years of fighting to get on adoption registers, right when they were beginning to despair of ever managing it.

They did, though, and now TK gets to come home to scenes like this.

Scenes like Ana standing on Carlos’s toes as he guides her slowly around the room in a basic dance. TK watches for a moment before getting his phone out and hitting record; he’ll be damned if he misses the opportunity to get this on film.

Carlos, having heard him enter, rolls his eyes when he sees what TK’s doing, but flashes him a quick smile before returning his focus to Ana. She hasn’t noticed TK’s entrance, her face scrunched up in deep concentration as she grips onto Carlos’s hands as tight as she possibly can.

When the music ends, Ana claps her hands and giggles. TK takes the moment to make his presence known, dropping to his knees and holding his arms out. She barrels into him, almost knocking him over, and presses her face into his chest, her tiny hands creating creases in his uniform shirt.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK murmurs, dropping a kiss in her hair. He gently detaches her from him and manoeuvers them until she’s sitting in his lap. “Looks like you guys were having fun while I was at work.”

She nods enthusiastically. “Papa was teaching me to dance! Abuela showed me photos when I was with her and Abuelo and I wanted to be just like her!”

“Abuela got out the photo albums again, huh?”

Ana nods again. “Of her… Her…” She frowns and looks up at Carlos.

“Her china poblana dresses,” Carlos says softly, smiling as Ana grins and points at him.

TK laughs and draws his daughter into a hug, rocking them gently, his gaze going up to Carlos. “Well, from what I saw, you were dancing even better than Papa,” he says, smirking as Carlos gasps in mock offence. He looks back down at Ana, tapping on the back of her hand. “You know,” he starts, smiling, “I think I might need some dancing lessons too. Think you can teach me?”

Ana lights up and immediately gets to her feet, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. She grabs TK’s hand and pulls him up, leading him to where Carlos must have cleared a space for them earlier. The music begins to play again and TK lets his daughter take charge, playfully sticking his tongue out at Carlos when he laughs at TK getting firmly told off for putting his foot in the wrong place.

At some point, Carlos joins the dance, the three of them stepping and bouncing around the front room. Ana’s laughter fills the house, shrieking with delight when Carlos sweeps her from the floor and wraps both her and TK in his arms. TK leans his head on his husband’s shoulder, a hand placed on their daughter’s back, and breathes out slowly, all the exhaustion from earlier forgotten.

At last, he’s home.

#911fluffweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

hold you ‘til the morning comes

1.6k || ao3

Carlos has known nothing but fear since he first got the report that a firefighter had died in the line of duty. After hours of wondering, here TK was: very much alive, but far from okay. But Carlos is not going to let him suffer alone.

Inspired by the scene in the promo of Carlos comforting TK --- Carlos Reyes Week Day 7: Anything goes

This idea came to me while I was watching the promo and @officereyes, being the wonderful enabler she is, encouraged me to write it. I carefully avoided any mention of who dies so I could be right either way, but I have my theories. Anyways, enjoy some Carlos introspection as he worries about TK 💕

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When Carlos and Mya returned to the precinct, there was a tension hanging in the air.

At first, he ignores it, choosing instead to focus on the path to his desk and the prospect of sitting down. A volcano erupting in the center of the city had left everyone a little crazier than usual, and after a full shift on patrol, he wanted nothing more than to collapse at his desk and bury himself in paperwork for the remaining hour.

But as he and Mya headed to their adjoined desks, he could feel eyes on him.

“Am I imagining things, or are people staring?” he asked his partner under his breath.

Mya looked around and frowned. She paused in front of the desk diagonal to their own and stared down at its occupant, “What the hell is going on, Johnson?

Johnson, a young, quiet officer nearly jumped out of his skin at the mere prospect of being directly addressed by Mya. He swallowed nervously, glancing around the room before he responded as if hoping someone else would step in and save him. When no takers arose he swallowed again before speaking, “A report just came in. It...said that a firefighter died.”

Carlos froze mid stride, a cold dread seeping through his chest. He turned and faced Johnson, catching the worried gaze of his partner as he turned. He kept his voice as calm and steady as possible as he asked the question he desperately needed to know, “did it say which station?”

Johnson shook his head frantically, nearly vibrating out of his seat with anxiety in the weight of Carlos’s gaze, “no, sir.”

He felt Mya’s hand, warm and steady on his arm as she leaned closer, “there’s no saying it’s him, Carlos.”

He nodded, jaw tight, but didn’t voice what he was thinking: but there’s no saying it isn’t either.

Somehow his feet find their way to his desk where he sits, hyper aware of all the surreptitious glances thrown his way. It wasn’t just that it could be TK. It was that it could be Mateo or Judd, Paul or Marjan. It could be Owen, for all he knew. It could be any number of the members of the little family they had built for themselves in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, and Carlos didn’t want to lose any of them.

But it could be TK, and Carlos didn’t know how he was supposed to live with that.

The room was quiet and Carlos could feel more than one pair of eyes on him. He did his best to ignore them. He didn’t need their pity, and he had more than enough fear all on his own. He couldn’t really blame them though; in the months that he and TK had been together, his boyfriend had become known around the station. At first by virtue of being a fellow first responder himself, then later because he would stop by on days he was off to meet Carlos for lunch, or just to say hi. TK got on well with his coworkers, so he understood the heightened fear. They weren’t just worried for Carlos’s boyfriend, they were worried for their friend.

He ignored the whispers and Mya’s concerned gaze and pulled out his phone, hands trembling ever so slightly as he accessed his recent calls. He tapped on TK’s name and waited, each ring another spike of fear being driven into his soul. All too soon the automated voice of the voicemail sounded and Carlos ended the call, placing the phone on his desk without a word or a comment to anyone.

Not answering didn’t mean anything. TK often didn’t answer when he was on shift: it was hard to answer your phone when you’re scaling a building or doing whatever else the day might require.

Or that’s what Carlos told himself, at least.

He turned back to his paperwork, trying to bury himself in the routine, resisting the urge to check his phone every other second. The minutes tick by and soon his shift is over, but he can’t bring himself to leave. If he leaves and goes home to his empty condo, he might actually go crazy. So instead he stays, willing to trade off the unpaid overtime for the comforting monotony of paperwork.

At some point, he realizes that the desk in front of him is still occupied too. He looks up to find his partner sitting resolutely at her desk, shuffling through her own paperwork.

“Mya,” he began but she shook her head, effectively interrupting him.

“I go home when you go home,” she declared firmly. “I’m going to be here for you no matter what, so just get over it.”

Despite everything, he had to smile. “Okay,” he agreed, knowing when to admit defeat. He turned back to his paperwork, but not before checking his phone one more time. There were still no new messages, and he tried to ignore just how much further his heart sank each time.

He had just turned back to his paperwork when the sound of loud voices outside the room filter to his desk.

“They’re saying that fireman just ate it,” someone was saying, “he was dead before they could even get to him.”

Eyes all over the room turned to Carlos, some more subtly than others, and clenched his jaw, determined to keep his expression neutral.

“Carlos,” Mya began, already halfway out of her seat with the likely goal of telling whoever was talking to kindly shut the fuck up, but he shook his head.

“It’s fine Mya, I’m just going to step outside and try calling him again.”

She nodded and gave him a tight smile as he grabbed his phone and headed towards the back door. He opened it and stepped out onto the stairs, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air. It doesn’t fortify him as it usually does, but there is only one thing in the world that could make him feel better tonight.

The fear that he has been burying inside his chest all night is ready to burst but he pushes it down one more time. There’s still no saying it’s him, there’s still no saying that he has anything to fear at all. He pulls out his phone with shaking hands, ready to try again and already dreading the sound of his voicemail. He’s just about to dial when he sees someone at the bottom of the staircase. He frowns, pocketing his phone. This isn’t the public entrance to the precinct. Most people didn’t even know it existed. He was about to call down, to see what the strange figure wanted when they stepped into the yellow light of the floodlight and their features came into focus and suddenly Carlos couldn’t breathe.

He took the stairs two at a time, rushing down to TK, because it was TK. He was here, he was standing, and he was alive. He might just be the most beautiful thing Carlos had ever seen.

He called TK’s name as he rushed down and when his boyfriend looked up at him Carlos was struck by the sadness in his eyes even from a distance.

He slowed as he approached, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be unhurt, as far as Carlos could tell, but he looked smaller than Carlos had ever seen him.

He stopped short of pulling TK into his arms, though he wants to so desperately. He studies him up close first, before speaking, “There were reports saying a firefighter had died and you weren’t answering your phone. I...” he trailed off, not sure how to explain what he had spent the past few hours feeling and not wanting to burden TK any more with his own feelings when the other man was clearly drowning in the weight of his own.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

TK’s voice is too small and Carlos’s heart aches, “It’s fine,” he assures him, “I’m just happy you’re safe.”

He wants to ask what happened, he wants to ask all the questions echoing through his mind but TK is shaking and Carlos feels fear start to climb up his spine again, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” TK assures him, “I’m not hurt. I’m okay.”

As they stand on the stairwell and look at each other Carlos reflects that in all their time together, that might just be the biggest lie TK has ever told him. He steps forward, hesitantly at first but when TK makes no move to stop him he pulls him into his arms, sheltering his shaking body with his own. He can feel TK’s body sag into his, losing some of the tension. It’s only a moment before he can feel his shoulder getting wet as TK’s body quakes with silent sobs. He pulls them down so they are sitting on the stairs and gently rests his chin on the top of TK’s head, running a hand in soothing circles on his back.

His boyfriend is safe and he is beyond grateful. He wants to bask in the feeling of TK in his arms and the knowledge that he is safe, that he hadn’t lost him, but it feels selfish in the face of TK’s grief. He had lost someone today, and though Carlos doesn’t know the details, he understands. Whether or not it was someone from his station, whether or not it was someone from his team, the loss of any firefighter could feel like the loss of a family member. It could also serve as a reminder of what he stood to lose every day; that when the ones closest to you are the ones running into the fire beside you, there is so much more to risk.

Carlos would ask those questions later, he would help him through it, whatever it was. For now, they would just sit here, curled together in the stairway, savoring the warmth and existence of each other.

Everything else could wait, for now.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #911ls season 2 #my writing #carlosreyesweek2021 #userkimmy #userac #usermaximus #userjilly #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #jazzyjezz #aanathema

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howlingsaturn · 3 years

Text

and in your arms, i will find shelter (1.9k)

i wrote a little hurt/comfort cause the tarlos hug wouldn’t leave my mind so here you go, i guess? spoiler warning for 2x02 of lone star even though no names are dropped. also minor trigger warning for panic attacks and death (always with a happy ending though). stay safe everybody. <3

as you pry the hurt

from my aching body

and the grief

from my shaking hands

i realise

there's nothing more powerful

nothing more healing

than love

When the realisation hits, the weight on his shoulders becomes unbearable. He's surprised it doesn't bury him right where he stands. He takes a look at the rest of his team, small and quiet in the usually so joyful firehouse, and he wonders how he's supposed to survive this, how Judd and Owen can still offer words of encouragement and touches of comfort after all the loss they've suffered. It's excruciating. The whole thing. Every second of it.

Every breath he takes sends a stabbing pain through his chest and his hands start shaking so badly, he can't even ball them into fists. He feels suffocated, like the walls are closing in around him and there's no way out. He feels the sudden, overwhelming urge to run, to get as far away from this place as possible but before he can move there's a hand on his arm and fingers squeezing so hard that he winces.

"TK," his father says alarmingly and his voice sounds so far away, so frighteningly inhuman, that it sends TK into a frenzy.

"I need to go," he breathes out between clenched teeth, his heartbeat echoing in his ears like a stampede. He needs to get out of here. Right now. TK pulls his arm free and turns around, ignoring the calls of his name that follow him out of the door and then he's running. He doesn't know where his legs take him, he can barely focus on the path in front of him through his blurred vision but it doesn't matter. None of it matters. They've lost one of their own today and TK doesn't know if he can ever fully recover from that.

His legs and chest start burning, begging him to slow down and catch a breath and so his frantic run comes to an abrupt halt. He's heaving now, seemingly unable to get enough air into his lungs and it doesn't help the feeling of panic that's been sitting in his gut all day. He fears he might pass out but he manages to get his breathing under control, enough so that he can keep walking. His mind is still too chaotic to rest and there's only one place he wants to be in right now, this one person who might be able to shoulder some of that weight he carries, and so with weak knees and his heart in his throat, TK makes his way to Carlo's condo.

It doesn't take long for the familiar building to appear in his line of sight, he's covered quite a few miles with that run, but it doesn't fill him with the relief he had hoped it would. He's overwhelmed all over again.

Is he overstepping? Should he even come here this late and pull Carlos out of his sleep? He's had a tough day too, shouldn't he let him rest? He can't pour all of this grief on him unnoticed, can he? Does Carlos even know what happened?

He doesn't know what to do, torn between wanting to seek comfort and knowing he will be a burden to Carlos. He longs for him though, his gentle eyes and warm smile and TK is too tired, too upset, to deny himself of Carlos' embrace. Eventually, TK pulls out the key Carlos handed him one night, for safekeeping, he had said with a smile, and TK knew in that moment, with a frightening clarity, that Carlos was his forever, his one.

He takes a few more minutes to collect himself before he opens the door, careful to be as silent as possible in case Carlos was already asleep, and when he lets the door fall shut behind him, he surprisingly finds those brown eyes he's been aching for already locked on him. Carlos is right there, sitting in the middle of the staircase in his pyjamas, looking at TK like he was expecting him all along, and TK feels his heart swell with gratitude. As he stares at him, the pain in his chest slowly eases and he suddenly doesn't know why he was so worried about coming here. He doesn't understand why he was so insecure about seeking out Carlos' presence and asking him to deal with a pain that wasn't his own. It's so clear now, in the way Carlos wordlessly opens his arms and holds out a hand, that he will gladly shoulder some of TK's pain.

TK's legs move on their own account and he all but stumbles into Carlos' waiting embrace, reaching for whatever warmth he can find and hoping it will fill the cold that has seeped into his heart. When Carlos' arms close around him, holding the broken pieces of himself together, TK feels safe.

They stay there for a long time, neither of them talking, and TK finds comfort in the silence Carlos offers. He focuses on the strong beat of Carlos' heart against his ear, matching his own to its rhythm, and when he feels like he won't fall apart with every breath he takes, he opens his eyes and raises his head to look at Carlos. Carlos reaches for him immediately, stroking his cheek with a sad but kind smile, and TK wonders, for the millionth time, how he got so lucky. He wants to tell Carlos how grateful he is and how much he adores him but the words are stuck in his throat. He only hopes Carlos can read some of it in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Carlos finally breaks the silence, and the agony in his voice is evident. He doesn't know what else he can say, there's nothing that will make it okay. TK looks at him for a long time, eyes scanning over his boyfriend's face in a futile attempt to memorise all that he is. He's overcome with emotions, torn between gratitude and the fear of losing him.

He's lost someone today. He can lose someone else tomorrow. Time is not guaranteed, not for anyone, and he's hit with the sudden urge to create a bubble where time doesn't exist and lock the both of them in, if only for just a moment. Carlos swipes his thumb over TK's brow, seemingly having noticed his mind drifting, and TK falls back into his painful reality. He reaches for Carlos' shirt, holding onto him as if he's afraid he's going to disappear, and when he looks back into Carlos' eyes, he finds nothing but understanding.

I love you, he thinks suddenly, feverishly. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He doesn't say the words that are echoing in his head and his heart is yearning to hear, instead he pulls Carlos down and presses their lips together in a desperate kiss. Carlos reciprocates but pulls back quicker than TK would've liked, though he keeps him close, gently holding his face in the palms of his hands.

"I'm right here," he says softly, lovingly pressing a kiss to TK's forehead, and somehow that causes the dam to break. It catches TK so off guard that he can only hold onto Carlos as the waves of grief wash over him, drowning him in a series of uncontrolled and horrible sobs. He barely listens to the soothing words Carlos whispers into his ears, he's too focused on getting his breathing back under control and swallowing down the nausea that hits him. He feels the panic advance on him like a shark, pulling him back underwater and TK needs it all to stop, he can't do this anymore, his limbs are too tired to swim. He tries to tell Carlos as much but his throat produces nothing but broken hiccups. Carlos tries to soothe him, telling TK to breathe and assuring him that he's going to be okay, and after a few agonising minutes, the water finally calms.

There's nothing left of him then. TK feels wrung out and hollow and if it weren't for Carlos still holding him close, he probably would've passed out right where they sit. But Carlos is here, curling a strong arm around his back, and TK lets himself be cared for.

He doesn't remember much of what happened after his panic attack but he wakes up in a warm bed, Carlos wide awake at his side and a few strands of sunlight making their way through the blinds.

He blinks up at Carlos who's already looking at him, a worried frown between his eyes but he smiles upon noticing TK's gaze. He lets his fingers move through TK's hair in a soothing manner and something about that loving gesture makes TK feel less alienated. He's oh so thankful that Carlos is right here next to him.

"How are you feeling?" Carlos asks quietly, pulling TK out of his haze, and TK takes a few seconds to think about his question.

"I don't know. Tired, I guess. Like I've run a marathon. My head hurts. And I'm just…" he breaks off, lost in thought.

"Sad?" Carlos offers.

"Yeah," he agrees, "Sad."

"Me too," Carlos confesses and that's it. He too has lost a friend and co-worker, he too has suffered through a loss that isn't easily accepted, and all of the sudden TK feels guilty for not realising it sooner, for not being able to keep his emotions under control and checking in on Carlos. TK opens his mouth to apologise but Carlos raises a hand in warning, aware of TK's train of thought.

"Don't even think about it," he says but there's kindness behind it. "I'm okay. You were not. And that's alright, it's understandable. But you have nothing to apologise for, Ty." He says it with such conviction that TK doesn't even try to argue with him.

"I'm always here for you if you need me," Carlos adds, "It's what partners do, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he admits, "I just want you to know that I'm here for you too. If you ever need me."

Carlos smiles at him and adjusts his position on the bed so that they're on eye level, his gaze wandering to the fingers that instinctively reach back into TK's hair.

"I care about you," TK goes on and he waits for Carlos to look at him before he continues, "I care about you a lot, actually. More than I can comprehend sometimes. And after what happened yesterday I-- I realised I'm terrified of losing you."

The confession catches Carlos off guard and his hand in TK's hair stills abruptly.

"You're not gonna lose me," Carlos says, a little dumbfounded.

"I could. It's not unreasonable considering our lines of work and I'm --" he breaks off, leaving his self destructive thoughts unsaid but Carlos knows. He always knows.

"No, it's not unreasonable," he sighs, "but listen to me carefully, I'm in this for the long run. I won't leave, not ever, not on my own accord and believe me when I say that I will do anything to come back home to you each day, unharmed. I can promise you that much."

There's a fire in his eyes that TK has rarely seen and he finds that it isn't difficult to trust his promise at all because TK will do the exact same thing. He reaches out a hand then, tightly clutching Carlos' fingers in his own, and there they are again, these terrifying three words. They're itching beneath his skin and tickling in his throat, desperate to be said out loud, but TK decides to keep them for himself for now. There will be a time for them, there will be a time to love and to hope. Right now, he needs to let himself heal. There is, after all, no safer place to do so than in Carlos' warm embrace.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star #911ls #lone star spoilers #myfic #i kinda hate this but i needed to get it out #personal #howlingssaturn #howlingsaturnsfics

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justapoet · 3 years

Text

there is nothing new about me (but you)

Missing scene from 2x10

Or,

After Owen finishes helping TK and Carlos moving in, they have a little celebrating to do.

3.2k

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TK watched from the door jamb as his father's car turned the street and disappeared from view. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulder pressed against the wood, just like his head, and a silly, lovestruck smile in his face that was there for the whole morning ― and it would probably stay there for the entire week.

In the previous week, when he threw himself on Carlos' bed after an exhausting forty-eight-hour shift, he wasn't really expecting his boyfriend to be awake and roll in the mattress, holding TK close against his chest. He wasn't expecting, either ― and he seriously thought he had already fallen asleep ― for Carlos to kiss him sweetly and ask him if he wanted to move in.

His tired state made it take him a couple of seconds ― maybe a minute ― to understand all the words and what they meant together, and his brain processed it all like a kind dream. He mumbled an answer somewhere between a sigh and a smile and pressed himself even more against the warm, welcoming body of his boyfriend. Carlos chuckled, almost in disbelief, and kissed his lips once again before joining him in his sleep.

The following morning for that night was a little less calm as he almost fell down the stairs, suddenly remembering that it had happened but genuinely confused if it was only a surprisingly pleasant dream caused by his daily thoughts over living with Carlos. If so, he would definitely have a shadow over his head and puppy eyes to everyone.

"You okay there, Tiger?" Carlos asked as he approached a stumbling TK down the stairs. His boyfriend had a cup of coffee in his hands while stepping closer, a sweet ― oh, so sweet ― smile on his face, and looked unfairly gorgeous with those messy curls of his.

"Yeah, I― uh..." TK mumbled out, squeezing his eyes and trying to make any sense. "Fine, I'm fine. Just missed a step there," he moved his head towards the stairs, and Carlos chuckled softly.

"It would be nice for you to come down when you're a little more awake, babe. It wouldn't be nice for your own house to be a risk to your physical integrity," joked Carlos, and TK started to laugh when it died in his throat and the words settled in his brain.

Carlos only watched TK's confusion with a grin on his face.

"I― you..." TK started, not exactly knowing what to say. "Did I...? Did y― it wasn't a dream?" he finally asked, and Carlos chuckled lightly before shaking his head and shrugging softly.

"It wasn't, but if you want to change your answer while awa―" Carlos started but was rudely interrupted by TK's lips being slammed against his, making him take a step back and tighten his grip on the coffee mug he had in hand. "Alright," he said, then, against the paramedic's lips.

TK laughed and hugged Carlos' waist tightly, holding on to him until the very moment he was sitting in his car and driving to work. Then, he came back inside the house ― soon to be his ― and let himself sleep a little bit more on the bed they shared. If he used Carlos' pillows because he so idiotically already missed his boyfriend, then he's the only one to know it.

When Carlos came back from his shift that night, TK couldn't help but throw himself over the man, kissing him senselessly just because. Because Carlos was there; because Carlos was his; because he could; and mainly because he loved him with more than he thought he had to offer.

Now, with his father driving away ― which meant he had already brought everything he had to his home ―, TK couldn't stop smiling silly at nothing and no one. He had a warmth in his chest that was new, some sense of coldness melting away after all those years ― all his life ― without a safe place, a safe embrace for him to call home.

He felt a pair of arms wrapping his waist and let out a surprised gasp before feeling Carlos' lips touching his neck in a soft touch. Then, he melted to the touch and pressed his body against his boyfriend's, humming happily with another kiss pressed to his neck.

"Are you happy?" Carlos asked, his nose buried on the crook of TK's neck and his lips rubbing his boyfriend's skin. TK hummed, throwing his head back and using Carlos' shoulder as support.

"Happier than ever," the paramedic replied, closing his eyes as Carlos chuckled briefly and happily on his skin. "It feels good, you know?"

"Moving out from your father's house?" Carlos asked, the tone of his voice making the teasing clear. TK elbowed his ribs gently, and Carlos gently bit his shoulder.

"Home," he said, even if the answer wasn't actually required. "It feels good to be home," TK said again, and Carlos smiled brightly with his words.

A second later, the cop was walking backward and bringing his boyfriend with him, so they were both inside the house, far from curious eyes. TK let himself be led and heard the brief click of the door lock before his body was being turned around, Carlos' arms firmly around his waist and his lips suddenly against TK's.

The kiss was calm, sweet, and blissful, taking TK's breath away with such ease it was almost unreal. Carlos wrapped his arms tighter around TK, taking a few steps forward and pressing the paramedic against the door, the kiss suddenly shifting to something else.

TK heard the clinging of the keys and understood that Carlos had locked the door. The paramedic smiled in between the kiss, but it soon faded away, for Carlos' lips were a lot more lustful, slow, and deep over his mouth, stealing his breath and messing up all his senses.

"Very handy, uh?" Carlos said, breathless, still glued to TK's lips. TK tried to catch his breath, his smile getting lost somewhere between the both of them.

"Definitely," he answered, his hands ghosting over Carlos' shoulders just to find his nape, his fingers curling up to the base of his head while his other hand made its way to the curls on the top of his head. "And we do have some celebrating to do, don't we?"

"I think so," Carlos laughed, pecking a kiss to TK's lips before lowering his head to his boyfriend's neck, kissing it wetly, slowly, making the paramedic sigh heavily to the touches. "We could take it to our living room," Carlos whispered into TK's skin, and the new yorker felt his stomach twisting inside his body. "Here, in our dining room," he whispered, now against TK's jaw, his warm breath causing the man at his mercy to shiver. "To our bedroom," his voice was close to TK's ear, and now the paramedic felt like he could just melt right down to the floor, a moan escaping past his lips as his fingers gripped tightly to Carlos' curls, the cop groaning with the action.

"S― shit," TK grumbled out, getting a pleased smile from his boyfriend. "You're a tease," he whispered at Carlos, who was back to kiss his neck and groaned with a soft bite the cop left over his skin.

"And you're a menace," Carlos said, his voice so calm TK could punch him for being so cool while taking him out of his senses. He could've said something, but Carlos propelled his hips forward in a movement to get TK yelping, closing his eyes, and biting his lower lip.

Son of a bitch.

"If you don't fuck me now―" TK said, trailing off for a moment when Carlos wandered his hands under the shirt he was wearing.

"Shh..." Carlos said, his lips now back against TK's. "Let me take care of you, babe. Let's go to our bedroom, uh?" his voice was sweet, as it always was when talking to TK in any possible situation. It was something characteristic of Carlos to always keep his tone of voice low, sweet and comforting ― it was something his to show his love and affection whenever it was possible.

TK could only grumble out a "yeah" before his legs were wrapped around Carlos' waist, and he was completely surrendered to his touches, kisses, and overwhelming love. Surprisingly, they made it up the stairs in no time, and TK found himself pressed, now, against a soft surface.

The paramedic was quick to untangle his fingers from the curly hair, leading his hands down Carlos' torso until he could meander his hand under the shirt he was wearing, the warm skin under his touch setting him on fire. The cop groaned when TK snaked both his hands up his back, the shirt tangling all the way to his shoulders, where it stood for a minute as Carlos was busy kissing his boyfriend senseless.

"Off," TK murmured, and Carlos took a second to push apart from his lips and take the shirt off over his head. The paramedic grinned happily at the sight he had in front of him and enjoyed it while his boyfriend took his time to explore his body, still covered by the shirt he was wearing, kissing Carlos' neck, shoulder, and any piece of skin he could reach with his lips.

The cop took his time, his hands wandering around the incredibly silky skin, so white his fingers would still be there a few hours from then; so warm he could never remember how it was not to be surrounded by the long-length waves of a long-term feeling that would always make him whole.

And suddenly, it was too much to have Carlos kissing him senseless all the way down his chest, no more covered by the cotton shirt. TK gasped and whispered as the heated, swollen lips found their way to his belly, not an inch of his skin feeling cold or unloved ― not a crack in his soul feeling empty anymore.

Carlos could swear TK was the anthropomorphism of all existent gods when he kissed a specific spot over his V line, the burning skin being lulled by the cop's short breaths, and the paramedic moaned under his touch, giving Carlos a glimpse of how heaven sounded.

And heaven, oh... He could swear all heaven envied that TK was right there, right then, squirming under him. And he wanted all heavens and universes to envy him as he zipped down the jeans pants his boyfriend was wearing, the boxers, and the pair of pants down TK's legs in one go.

"Carlos," TK gasped between one breath and another when, unexpectedly, Carlos took him in his mouth as much as he could, his hands pressing TK's thighs down to the mattress so he couldn't move too much. When he made a suction move, an unnamed sound came out from the depts of TK's soul to his throat.

And, for all the Infernos Dante had written ― that was the epitome of sin.

Read the rest on Ao3

#tarlos fic #tarlos #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #post episode #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk strand x carlos reyes #carlos reyes x tk strand #my fic #my writing

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detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years

Text

Academy Together, Friends forever 7/10

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(Beginning) (Prev Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Owen is at a loss for word, frozen to the spot in amazement that Buck was even standing here right now. TK, on the other hand, had moved so quickly that Owen barely even realised he moved, barrelling into Buck’s chest and pulling him in with his good arm while tucking his face in the crook of Buck’s neck.

Buck didn’t even hesitate before bringing his arms around TK in a loose circle, taking care not to jostle his shoulder and buries his face into TK’s hair, seemingly taking comfort in the contact.

Owen needed to handle this situation delicately; knowing that, growing up, Buck never really had his parents show and interest or care in anything important in his life and if they did, it was more often than not a negative experience. With this thought in mind, Owen moves from his spot, stepping round to the other side of the counter and envelops them both in his arms.

Eventually, TK is the first to untangle himself from Buck and steps back with a sniffle. Owen does the same, deciding it was best not to overcrowd. He stands there waiting for Buck to say something, but the young man was staring intently countertop, unwilling to look either of them in the eye.

Unable to take the silence, he exclaims, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” More out of shock than anything, but he sees Buck wince at the words, nonetheless.

TK shoots him an incredulous look and a small shake of the head. Realising what his outburst must have sounded like, Owen cups Buck’s cheek and gently guides his face up to look at him. “Why didn’t you call?” he asks quietly.

Buck looks away shamefaced, dislodging Owen’s hand from his face. “I… uh, I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to worry about me. Again. You already did so much after the ladder truck. I didn’t want to make a big deal about this too.”

“Hey now, nothing is ever going to be too much,” Owen says softly, doing his best to get through to the young man that he’s come to love like his own.

“And of course, this is a big deal; we could have lost you and we wouldn’t have even known.”

Buck’s eyes widen at that thought, “I know, and I’m sorry I forgot to call you when they happened; and then by the time I realised, it seemed like so long ago I didn’t see the point in scaring you for nothing when everything is fine now.”

Owen cups his face in both hands for a moment, “I’m just glad that you’re alright.” He brings him back into a hug, “And there’s no need to apologise, just so long as you know that we’re here for you, even if it’s just to talk.”

Buck touches his forehead to Owen’s shoulder for a moment before breaking out of the hug. “Thanks, didn’t realise how much I needed that.” He says wiping away a stray tear with a chuckle.

They stand in silence for a moment before TK, sensing the need for a change in subject, claps and rubs his hands together with a smile. “Okay, so pancakes! They still look good even if they’re cold.” He catches both Owen and Buck’s eye and moves back around to his spot to pile his plated pancakes high with fruit and syrup.

Owen watches as Buck follows suit, falling back into a light-hearted conversation about TK and his potential relationship with a certain cop as if nothing had even happened. He himself moves back to his plate and marvels at Buck’s deliciously fluffy pancakes happy to see the blonde man smiling again and yet still feeling as though their conversation was just the tip of the iceberg of what really going on with him. They’ve laid the groundwork, all he had to do now is wait for Buck to come to him.

** ** **

TK and Buck’s banter is interrupted by Owen clearing his throat. “Much as I’d like to hang around, I got a hold of Colt’s parents last night and they said they were free this morning to see him and Judd said he’d only hold down the fort for me for a couple of hours before I have to head back.”

Buck watched as TK’s eyes widen in surprise before moving in a flurry of activity to get dressed into some more presentable clothes. Buck, however, stays in his spot and slowly tidies up from breakfast, moving all the dishes to the sink to be washed.

TK pauses as he put on shoes, realising that Buck had made no move to leave the kitchen. “You know you can come with us, right?”

Buck shakes his head with a small smile. “Nah man, this is something you guys need to do together.” He says the next part with a half shrug, “Besides, I was actually thinking of going for a walk to clear my head.”

“You sure?” asks Owen, stepping in close to Buck and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, of course, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Buck says with a reassuring smile, “You guys do your thing.” And not ten minutes later they were out the door.

He sags against the island bench and lets out a rush of air before shaking away the heavy emotions threatening to overwhelm his thoughts. He wasn’t lying to Owen, going for walks really do help and that’s what he’s going to do. Quickly changing out of his pajamas, Buck heads out, turning left at the driveway and starts walking.

Buck loses track of time, lost in his thoughts wandering the streets of Austin when he happens to turn the corner to discover a woman shrieking at her house with a familiar-looking figure holding her back. He quickly runs up to assess the situation, coming to a stop next to the pair.

There was thick smoke coming from one side of the structure and Buck could see the flames through one of the windows. He listens to the man on the phone, clearly talking to dispatch and overhears that there were still two people inside; a man and a young boy.

“Buck?” Carlos had finally noticed his presence and he could see clear confusion on the man’s face at his sudden appearance.

Buck, fully focused on the structure, had no time for pleasantries. “How long has it been?”

“What?!” “How long has it been since the fire started?” he repeats, in no mood to explain.

“I don’t know, a couple of minutes? I was just driving past,” replies Carlos, still struggling to hold onto the woman. Buck starts moving towards the house.

“What are you doing!?”

“There’s no time. A house has 5 minutes at best before its completely on fire! I’m going in.” He says before running headfirst through the front door, just managing to catch the woman calling out to him that they were upstairs. Carlos just stares after him incredulously.

Moving as swiftly as possible up the stairs, Buck has no time to spare, feeling the flames lick at his trousers on his way up. He wastes no time peering into each open door, sputtering as the thick smoke invades his lungs. He finds the man in the second room he checked, lying prone in front of a closet.

Opening said closet, Buck is not surprised to find the young boy huddled in the bottom and for the briefest of moments, all he sees is Christopher on the day of the tsunami, same glasses, and the same striped yellow shirt. The boy wails up at him in fear, cutting through his memory.

Shaking himself from his sense of déjà vu, Buck ducks his head out the bedroom door only to see the flames burning on the stairs, confirming what he already knew. He was out of time. With sweat pouring out of every inch of his body and feeling as though he was hacking up a lung, Buck kicks out the glass of the bedroom window thankful that it was easily big enough to climb through.

Coaxing the kid out of the closet, he lifts him up on to his hip whispering reassurances in his ear before carefully passing him through the shattered window and onto a flat section of the roof.

He starts to move away but the kid tearfully clings to his arm, begging for him to stay. “Kiddo, you gotta let go. I have to get your dad, but I promise I’ll be right back.” whimpering, the boy reluctantly lets go.

Buck rushes to the man, hearing the protesting groans of the house as it threatens to collapse in on itself, and hooks his arms under the man’s armpits and drags him to the window. Climbing back out, he strips off his jacket and lays it on the jagged glass to protect the unconscious father as he pulls him through.

Grinning to himself as he hears the sirens of the firetrucks as they pull up, he doesn’t even notice the scratches he gets from the glass as he lies halfway through the window to lift and drag the man unceremoniously onto the roof. Hefting him up on his shoulders in a fireman’s hold, Buck moves quickly along the roof tiles towards the front of the house with the young boy keeping a tight hold on the back of his shirt.

Slipping a couple of times, they make it to the front of the house where the ladder extension of the truck was set up. Catching a glimpse of the truck Buck could clearly see the bold lettering of the numbers 126 on the roof, and he can’t help but groan in relief at seeing Paul nearing the end of the ladder. He sends the kid first, using his free arm to guide the kid to Paul who then helps the kid climb down to a waiting Marjan only a few rungs down.

Buck had just managed to pass the unconscious man from his shoulders to Paul when he lost his footing on a loose tile and he barely catches Paul’s panicked expression just before he goes sliding down the angled rooftop.

He scrabbles against the tiling in an attempt to slow his descent and he manages to catch hold of the gutter with his fingertips and he goes over the edge but it only for a moment before he loses his grip and comes crashing to the ground in a heap.

Stunned from being winded by the landing, all Buck can do is gape at the inferno gasping for air until he feels himself being dragged along the grass away from the flames by two sets of hands. He tries to bat away the hands of the paramedic who was giving him a cursory once over before pressing an oxygen mask to his face.

He’s barely able to register what she’s saying because he’s suddenly being hauled up by his shirt to come face to face with a furious looking Carlos. “Are you fucking insane!? Who the hell do you think you are, running into a burning building like that?”

Tag list: @buckleystrand @seaofashes @kingtxhalla @justsmilestuffhappens @diazbuckleysworld @confessions-of-a-shipperholic @spell-of-the-rain @novemberhush @black-forest-girl @bluebelle88 @adamngoodbuck @overtimeme @captain--sif @rachbabe007

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#jess writes #my fic #long post #911 #9-1-1 #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 lone star #9-1-1 x 9-1-1 lone star #tk strand #evan buck buckley #Evan Buckley #owen strand #carlos reyes #marjan marwani #paul strickland #swearing

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

i’ll call you home - pt.2

follow up to this

2.03 | tk comes home to carlos

ao3

There’s a welcome party waiting for them when Judd pulls the fire truck into the station. They all come over to meet them as they file out of the truck, wide smiles on their faces. TK spots Carlos instantly, his heart aching as he watches him greet the team - a pat on the shoulder from his dad, a fist bump from Marjan - and it’s all TK can do to avoid pushing past Mateo to get to him.

Just beyond him, Judd is lifting Grace off her feet, both of them laughing. When he sets her down, they stay wrapped up in each other, murmuring softly. His parents are standing apart from the rest, conversing lowly, his mom reaching up to run a hand through his dad’s hair. It’s no less weird seeing them together, but TK thinks he’s beginning to get used to it. Maybe.

Nancy and Tommy are there, too, Nancy’s smile not quite reaching her eyes. It’s a sharp reminder of Tim’s funeral, all of them upset at having missed it. Tim deserved better.

Then, Mateo’s gone from his path, and TK falls into Carlos’s arms - literally, as he trips on his way out of the truck, hampered both by his exhaustion and his desire to get to Carlos as fast as possible. He flushes as the team immediately pounce on the incident, but he finds he’s able to tune out their jibes pretty easily. He’s looking at Carlos, after all.

“Hey stranger,” Carlos murmurs, stroking his thumb against TK’s cheek. TK leans into the touch, briefly closing his eyes and sighing. When he opens them again, Carlos is watching him with a small smile on his face, one that never fails to get TK’s heart racing.

He winds his arms around Carlos’s neck and leans up to brush their noses together. “Hi.”

And when they kiss, TK knows he is home again.

Carlos’s arms are firm around his waist, pulling them close as he deepens the kiss, so that there’s not even a whisper of air between them.

“I never want to be away for that long again,” TK says when they break apart, though neither of them move away. He buries his head in Carlos’s neck, breathing in his scent, just savouring being close to his boyfriend again.

Carlos laughs. “It was only a week.”

“Too long.”

“Yeah.”

Behind them, Mateo makes gagging noises. TK flips him off.

“Alright, the PDA in here is officially too much,” Paul declares, though he’s clearly fighting off a smile.

“I’ll say,” Marjan adds. “I’m out before it gets truly disgusting.”

“Amen.”

The others go to head to the showers, but Paul stops and turns at the last second. “By the way, Reyes, Mrs Ryder ma’am?” he says. “Y'all are gonna stink. Just so you know.”

TK just burrows closer into Carlos. “Damage has already been done,” he mumbles. “Can we just go now?”

But Carlos moves his hands to TK’s shoulders, peeling them apart. “Much as I would love to,” he says, “if you think I’m letting you within a foot of my car before you’ve showered, you’ve got another thing coming.”

TK’s mouth drops open. “That’s so mean, Carlos.”

“Well, it’s nice to hear that someone else here has common sense,” Grace says.

TK startles; he hadn’t noticed the Ryders’ approach, but they’re standing right next to him and Carlos.

Judd looks fondly down at Grace. “So y’all are ganging up on us now?”

“Someone has to tell you these things, my love,” she responds. “Carlos and I have been swapping tips while you’ve been gone.”

TK shares an incredulous look with Judd, but then Judd just shakes his head affectionately and lightly cuffs TK on the back of his head.

“Come on, loverboy,” he says. “Sooner we do as they say, sooner we can get home.”

TK grumbles, but follows after Judd to the showers. Much as he wishes he were on his way home with Carlos, he can’t deny it feels good to get out of his soot-covered uniform and step under the spray, a week’s worth of grime running off his body and down the drain.

He scrubs himself off three times over, and by the time he’s dressed again in his comfiest hoodie and sweats, TK’s pretty sure he’s never been cleaner.

Carlos is waiting for him, an arm automatically wrapping across TK’s shoulders. TK leans into him, his own arm slipping around Carlos’s waist.

“I should tell my dad that I’m leaving with you,” he says.

“He knows,” Carlos replies. “I told him while you were still showering. Actually, I’m pretty sure he and your mom have already gone.”

TK frowns. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

“I think your mom forced him.”

“That does sound like her.”

Carlos hums, smiling at him. TK returns the gesture, leaning closer, his tired body refusing to support itself on its own. Carlos drops a kiss on the top of his head.

“Come on, Ty,” he whispers, walking them to his car. “Let’s go home.”

TK sighs contentedly, his eyes briefly slipping closed. “I am home.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #grace ryder #judd ryder #lone star #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #this was actually so hard to write rip #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige

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detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years

Text

Academy Together, Friends Forever 8/10

Also on Ao3

(Beginning) (Prev Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Buck stares up at Carlos, confused as to why this near-stranger was yelling at him and was about to answer his question when the paramedic swats at Carlos’ hands, “Carlos! Let the man go.” She exclaims, forcing him to release his shirt so she can work on his wounds.

Judd appeared in his field of view, peering down at him in confusion before realisation dawns across his face. “Cap! You should come over here! Your boy Buck was the person crazy enough to go inside without any gear.”

He couldn’t hear Owen’s response over the paramedic muttering to herself about all the numerous cuts on his body as she attempts to stop them from bleeding. Maybe it was the blood loss or the lack of oxygen, but it takes Buck longer than it should have to get the paramedic’s attention to give her an important detail. Fumbling with the oxygen mask and leaving a smear of blood on the plastic, he manages to say, “I’m on- I’m on blood thinners.”

Buck watches her eyes widen in alarm before settling into a calm sense of urgency over this new information and she reaches for her radio intending to call for another RA unit. Before she even utters a word, Buck stops her. “That guy looks like he needs the one that’s already here as much as I do. Just wrap what you can and put me in the seat, then you can watch both of us.”

“Alright then, we’ve gotta go now.” Quickly wrapping a bandage along each arm, she carefully helps him to his feet just as Owen joins them, immediately tucking his shoulder under Buck’s other arm, causing him to hiss slightly.

“You okay?” He asks, concern clear in his voice.

Buck can help but smirk through the sting, “Yep no worries, I’ll be fine. Just need to get these wounds sealed and I’ll be good as new.”

“If you’re sure,” Owen says hesitantly as they settle him into the ambulance. “I’ll send TK to keep you company at the hospital.” Buck looks down at the blood already seeping through the bandage, but then throws on a reassuring smile to Owen and gives him a one-fingered salute as they close the doors.

Admittedly, by the time they rolled into the hospital he was feeling a little lightheaded, and when Michelle, as he learned her name was, gives him a no-nonsense look when they wheel up a second gurney to the ambulance for him, he doesn't argue knowing there was no point, and graciously accepts help onto it as he fights a wave of dizziness.

As it turns out, the doctor was less than impressed by his apparent lack of self-preservation, especially when she discovers that he had two deep, freely bleeding lacerations; one on the underside of his arm and the other high up on the side of his chest. He guessed that he must have gotten them pulling the man through the window. It would definitely explain why he was feeling so tired.

She had just finished stitching up the second wound and was moving onto sealing the nuisance cuts on his arms when TK found him. “Dude, seriously, we leave you for a couple of hours and this is what you manage to do!” He says this in exasperation, but Buck could hear a hint of fondness in there too.

TK takes a seat beside him and waits in comfortable silence as the doctor dresses the wounds, and then informs them both that they’ll keep him for a few hours of observation to ensure there were no other complications from the smoke inhalation or the wounds.

After she leaves Buck immediately turns to TK, in a bid to distract him from the situation. “So, guess who I saw today.” He then proceeds to tell TK all about his encounter with Carlos at the scene and how he was none too pleased with his daring rescue.

“I can see why you like him. He has that fierce protector vibe, a quality might I add that your ex did not have and something that I think could do you some good.” TK blushes, and lightly punches him in the arm claiming that he didn’t need Buck’s approval, which Buck agreed, he didn’t.

After further discussion on the topic, Buck manages to convince TK to call Carlos and set up a date. What he did not expect however was for TK to include him in said date to go to the movies.

“So, what you’re saying is that I’ll be third-wheeling.”

“Come on Buck, baby steps, I don’t even know what our relationship is yet. Besides I want you to properly meet Carlos before you go home.” Buck, of course, relents to put TK at ease under the guise of reluctance but secretly he did want to get to know TK’s new man.

** ** **

Carlos has had a day. It's his day off and yet somehow, he still manages to be working in some capacity. In this case, its responding and calling dispatch about a house fire while keeping a distraught wife and mother from re-entering the house and being a third potential casualty instead of two.

And then out of nowhere, this guy, the one that he met briefly in TK’s hospital room starts questioning him like he’s the reason the house was burning. As soon as the guy got the answers he was apparently looking for, he was running towards the flames. What normal person does that? Does this guy have a death wish? Like sure, as a cop, Carlos was used to running towards danger, but he was trained for that sort of thing. Who was this Buck guy to do just that?

Conflicting emotions bubbled deep in his belly as he keeps the woman company while they wait with bated breath for some sign that Buck managed to pull off the rescue. Mostly, he was angry at this civilian who recklessly went into a burning house to play hero and frustrated at his inability to help besides calling for help is at the forefront. Surprisingly, fear was also swirling around in there.

Fear that this guy, Buck, a friend to both TK and Captain Strand, who he’s never seen before, had willingly put himself in danger and might not make it out safely. And then Carlos will have to be the one to tell the two Strands that their friend had put his life above two strangers and paid for it. He prays that by some miracle that Buck manages to save the father and son.

And then all at once, the 126 was at the scene, and Buck had emerged soot-covered, carrying the father on his shoulders along the rooftop with the child clinging to him. Carlos can’t help but cheer internally only to watch the man slip and land heavily in a deathly still heap on the ground.

He’s ashamed to say that he uncharacteristically let his fear and frustration control his actions and finds himself yelling in the poor man’s face. Michelle rightfully put him in his place and he moved off, going instead to give his statement to one of his colleagues before heading home to change out of his smoke scented clothes.

What he did not expect barely an hour later is to get a call from TK saying that he was out of the hospital and wanted to go out for a movie and possibly dinner afterward. In light of the morning he just had, it was a welcome surprise and he agrees to pick up him and this friend that TK wanted him to meet.

The afternoon came quickly enough and before he knew it, Carlos was at TK’s house and TK was opening the door and dragging him inside only to discover--

“Buck?!”

The man in question had just rounded the corner, pulling on a jacket and looking as if the morning didn’t even happen. Out of the corner of his eye, Carlos could see TK looking between them questioningly before stepping back and grabbing Buck by the wrist and bringing him up to stand in front of Carlos.

He’s not normally the type to feel threatened by another guy being close to someone he wants to be in a relationship with, but he can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity at seeing the closeness between Buck and TK as they stand side by side with their shoulder brushing. He can’t help it, especially when Buck is this beautiful and muscular guy, a total catch.

After their re-introduction, the three of them head to the cinema which wasn’t far away by car. It didn’t take them long to decide on a rom-com and Buck shooed TK and Carlos off to wait somewhere more comfortable while he waited in line, insisting on being the one to pay for the tickets.

Almost as soon as they were seated, TK rounds on him.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird since you knew it was Buck that was coming with us.”

“What’s the deal between you two?” TK’s thinly veiled concern morphed into amusement and he laughs at the question.

“That’s what this is about?” TK gently takes his hand in his own and presses it to his lips, “Oh Carlos, first off, I promise you there’s nothing going on between me and Buck. I mean yeah, he’s a pretty guy but its never been like that. Buck is more of a brother than anything and I’m pretty sure I’m not his type.”

At hearing this, Carlos groans and lets his head drop onto TK’s uninjured shoulder, burying his face into TK’s jacket in embarrassment. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” He mumbles into the fabric.

TK lightly pats his knee comfortingly. “You’re a cute idiot but don’t worry about it, it’s not the first time someone has thought that. We just got really close when he lived with us and we went through the fire academy together.”

“He probably thinks I’m an asshole.” Says Carlos lifting his head from TK’s shoulder, feeling guilty for the way he’s been acting. TK hums in response before patting his knee once more and gets up as Buck starts making his way over from the ticket booth.

“I’m sure he doesn’t but if you want to clear the air or whatever you can talk to him while I go to the bathroom, okay?” somewhat relieved in not having to ask, Carlos gives TK a quick nod and then TK was walking away, giving Buck a playful elbow bump as he passes him on the way to the bathroom.

Buck took TK’s spot and passes Carlos his ticket, looking away with a slight frown before he turns back to Carlos, and then they’re both speaking at once.

“Look, man, I’m sorry about this morning—” “Buck I’m sorry about how--”

Carlos stops talking abruptly and gestures for Buck to continue, “It's just- I’ve had experience with showing up too late to a fire, and knowing that I had a chance to save them, well, I had to take that risk. So, I’m sorry if I came across as a dick.”

He shakes his head. “Buck, I don’t even know why you're apologising when I was the one who was yelling at you for saving two people. I think you scared me more than anything, this civilian who I know is friends with TK and his dad just went into a burning house. I was afraid of what I might have to tell them if you didn’t make it out.”

Buck for his part, nodded along with his explanation, realisation dawning across his face at what he was implying, and Carlos couldn’t help but wonder if the guy had even considered that fact. From the looks of it, he wasn’t sure that he had, which was kind of concerning, to say the least.

Buck then scrunched up his face in confusion. “Wait, so why were you apologising?”

“Honestly, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I thought there was something going on between you and TK, and I kind of felt threatened with whatever relationship we seem to have. But I am also really sorry about getting in your face this morning, that was shit of me especially considering you were injured.”

“Oh. Well, apology accepted. And I swear there is nothing going on between us.” He grins, “besides TK isn’t really my type.”

Carlos laughed at that, “Yeah, TK pretty much said the same thing.”

“So, we’re cool?” Buck puts his hand out for him to shake and Carlos takes it gladly, happy to put the misunderstanding behind them. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

TK came back after that, smiling at the two of them before gesturing towards the concession stand eager to get popcorn and candy before the movie started. Conversation flowed much easier for the rest of the evening and Carlos can't help but feel the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.

Tag list: @buckleystrand @seaofashes @kingtxhalla @justsmilestuffhappens @diazbuckleysworld @diazsbuckley @confessions-of-a-shipperholic @spell-of-the-rain @novemberhush @black-forest-girl @bluebelle88 @adamngoodbuck @overtimeme @captain--sif @rachbabe007

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#jess writes #my fic #long post #911 #9-1-1 #9-1-1 lone star #9-1-1 x 9-1-1 lone star #TK strand #evan buck buckley #carlos reyes #owen strand #judd ryder #michelle blake

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