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chaotictarlos · 11 months

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The Loft

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

Rating: Explicit | Warnings/Tags: Canon Compliment, Season 4, Post 4 x 18, Could be a 4 x 18 Coda, Feelings, Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Anal Sex, Blow jobs, Anal Fingering, M x M Smut

Summary: TK and Carlos decide that they're going to stay home for their honeymoon instead of going someplace else.

Author's Note: This fic took a lot longer than I thought it would to write, but in the end I'm happy with how it turned out. I have ideas for fics to follow this one, and I might write them but I have a few projects I would like to get done before doing that. I am sorry that this took me so long to write, but I do hope that it was worth the wait. Nice comments are always welcomed, negative comments need to not be posted.

Thank you @lightningboltreader for being such a doll and beta'ing this for me!

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TK stares up at the ceiling. His arms are wrapped around Carlos loosely, one hand rubbing up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him. Carlos’ head is on his chest, ear pressing against the spot where TK’s heart is the loudest. Carlos has been laying on TK a lot like this, needing to hear his heartbeat loud and clear, to make sure he’s alive. Carlos told him the other day that it helps ease some of the anxiety and dread he’s been feeling, and tonight is no different. TK will do anything to soothe his fiance.

They had crawled into bed shortly after Carlos came home and proposed to TK. This time the proposal hadn’t been followed by them making love, but instead reaching for each other's arms and just holding each other. They’re laying quietly, listening to their breathing, knowing that sleep isn’t going to come. Carlos is too scared to sleep - too scared to let sleep take him because of the nightmares he’ll have and TK stays awake to be there for Carlos when he needs him.

It makes for a long night but TK doesn’t care, it’s just another sleepless night in a week of sleepless nights and grabbing naps when their bodies are too exhausted to move anymore.

TK focuses on Carlos’ breathing, tracking the way he sounds when he breathes in and out in case it changes and TK’s full attention is needed. His heart hurts for his fiance and he wishes that there was something more he could do.

"I know we planned to travel for our honeymoon but can we just stay home?" Carlos asks softly, his voice breaking the stillness of the night.

TK doesn’t say anything at first, just processes the words that float between them.

"I just want to be with you," Carlos continues. "I don't need to go off to some destination to do that. I just want you, safe in my arms. I-"

"We can do that," TK says, cutting him off and running his fingers up and down Carlos' back. "I don't care where we go or what we do. I just want to be with you, Carlos. Even if we stay here, in our apartment, and enjoy being married together. It'll still be the best time of my life."

Carlos raises his head and looks at TK. TK knows he can’t make out much in the darkness of the night but Carlos didn't need light to make TK feel like he was staring into the depths of his soul.

"Are you sure?" Carlos asks and TK can hear the worry in his words.

"I am baby,” he says softly, cupping Carlos’ face and running his thumb over his cheek. “I just want to be with you and if you want to have our honeymoon at home we will.”

Carlos nods and lays his head back on TK’s chest. There’s a want bubbling up in TK to talk to Carlos, but Carlos will talk when he’s ready. For now, they’ll just lay here in silence.

It has to be enough for now.

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tags: @strangefurychaos @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @noxsoulmate @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @importantbailiffpaperpony @a-j-cowwley @meditating-honey-badger @paperstorm @otter-love-asl @kiloskywalker @angeltk @firstprince-history-huh @brouill3r @liminalmemories21 @herefortarlos @tavners

#chaotic fic's #tarlos #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star #tk strand x carlos reyes #911 ls #tarlos fan fiction #tarlos fan fic #tk strand fan fiction #carlos reyes fan fiction #season 4 #4 x 18 #4 x 18 coda

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tarlosweeklyprompts · 11 months

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June Pride Month Challenge 2023 Masterlist

Thank you to all of the lovely people who participated in the event! If you wrote for this and your fic isn't on here please let me know! It's been a busy month and I might have missed it.

The pride that couldn't be by @tarlos-spain

Proud Husbands by @lightningboltreader

Thank you (for not showing up) by @taralaurel

like i want you (bless my soul) by @largepeachicedtea

Blind Date, Unexpected Vision by lightningboltreader

let me shake things up for you by @sanjuwrites

How to Bathe Your Lizard by lightningboltreader

again and again and again by largepeachicedtea

grounded by taralaurel

friendly fire by @detective-giggles

so let it out (and let it in) by taralaurel

Blind Date, Unexpected Vision by lightningboltreader

My Mom Thinks I'm Great by lightningboltreader

#twppride2023 #tarlos #tarlosweeklyprompts #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk strand x carlos reyes #tarlos weekly prompt #911 lonestar #tarlos fanfic #tarlos prompt #911 ls

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lightningboltreader · 1 year

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My Mom Thinks I'm Great

The host brings two fingers up to his mouth to stifle a little chuckle and then explains, “Oh I see. Yes, your mother brought you here to have dinner with this gentleman.” He gestures towards TK in the booth. “She said you didn’t know what he looked like.” He leans in closer to Carlos and holds up a hand to the side of his mouth so that TK can’t hear the rest, “and would be nervous, so she wanted to help get you to the table and then disappear for your big date.” Carlos’ eyes grow wide. “My big what?” “Um.” The host is starting to look pale, darting his eyes back to his stand longingly. “I’m not quite sure? It seems-” “It’s fine,” TK butts in from the booth, “we’ll be fine, thank you.” The host accepts that immediately and walks away quickly, perhaps expecting Carlos to object. Carlos simply lowers down into the booth and stares at the table. “What in the hell is going on?” TK scoots closer, wrapping an arm around Carlos’ and smiling. “Hi baby. Well, I’m not sure but I have a theory.”

Read on AO3.

For @tarlosweeklyprompts Gwyn and Andrea are best friends and try to set their sons up on a date - not knowing they're already together. Thank you @tarlos-spain for the beta.

#twppride2023 #lightningboltreader writes #spoiler now in context

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welcometololaland · 5 months

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6 & 22 <3

britt have you done a recent pfp change?? looks good! thanks for the ask!

6. episode of tv which defined the year for you?

this is a really hard one! rogue call, but i watched all of ted lasso in 2023, and i enjoyed it so much. even though i'm a lone star girlie, i think i have to be a little traitor about this and mention the football show i swore i would never like first. roy and jamie had some of the best arcs in that show, and every sam-centric ep just made my chest all squeezy. i'm chomping at the bit to start a rewatch.

in terms of tarlos, i really loved s 4 x 16 - i think i'd been hanging out for a tarlos scene like that for a long time, and it was kind of a sweet relief to get it. i think s 4 x 9 was the stand out ep of the season for me though - natacha really killed it.

22. favourite place i visited this year?

i already answered this one but no harm in answering again! i think mallorca, spain (but also granada, seville and cordoba).

thanks for the ask!

end of year asks her for my mental stability

#end of year asks #alltheprettyplaces #ted lasso #britt tag #911 lone star

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herefortarlos · 9 months

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hello friend 💜 if a genie rocked up and gave you three wishes, what would you wish for? (you can't wish for more wishes 😌)

Oh no, Lola, this is a dangerous question to ask my tipsy self 😆 Alright, let's see here!

First is pretty boring, but I would wish to be financially stable enough for both myself and my fiance, so we would no longer have to work if we choose, could pay off all our student debt and have enough money to live more than comfortably for the rest of our lives. I don't need much to live happily; my hobbies include hyper fixating on whatever my current obsession is (hello tarlos and 911 lone star), video games, reading, nothing that requires an exuberant amount of wealth, and I don't think that would change if I no longer had to worry about money! I would definitely travel more though and take trips with friends!

Which leads me to wish #2. I was going to say the ability to teleport anywhere and take people with me, but if I have money, then I could afford to travel. So I think instead I would choose the ability to speak and read every known language in the world. That's partly for the history nerd in me but mainly so I could travel to countries like Japan, Germany, Morocco, South Korea, and Spain, to name a few, and be able to successfully navigate my way through them!

And #3 is all selfish and very on brand with my current obsessions. I would wish to be very good friends with Ronen 🤣 Nothing crazy or inappropriate, I would just kill to be friends with the man. From everything we've seen he seems like such a good person, inside and out, and so much fun to be around. He seems to have very good relationships from what we see with Chaise, and Rafa, and he's such a giant sweetheart that I would love to have as a friend! ❤️

Thank you for the ask, Lola!! I've been thinking of more obscure questions all day for this, and am going to have to send you one for your Saturday before I head off to bed! 🥰

#nice asks #I'm very glad I waited to sober up a bit before answering this 😆#the 3 wishes question always changes for me!

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tarlos-spain · 1 year

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Chapter 03

for @trickzill-art

The smile was quickly wiped off Joseph's face. He was sure that Richard would be very pleased and happy to hear about the purchase of the store. They had talked many times about the idea of going into business together, but never quite took the plunge. Joseph was convinced that he had made the right decision.

Suddenly, he realized he had been completely wrong.

"I've bought the place so we can open our coffee shop."

"There, there. I heard what you said, but I'm trying to understand why you did such a barbaric thing without consulting me," Richard replied without having blinked yet with his squinty black eyes.

"We were thinking about it, weren't we?"

"Exactly.” Said Richard with that sneer on his face that normally made Joseph feel safe but now only made him feel stupid. “We were thinking about it, it was a plan, a hypothesis, not something you wake up one day and decide to do on your own."

Joseph felt like the world was crashing in on him. He had spent hours telling Richard about what he wanted his dream coffee shop to look like. Many times he had asked him to put down on paper, as the architect he was, those ideas he had. But Richard had always given him the runaround with the excuse that he didn't mix work and private life.

He had done it on his own. Joseph had created something resembling site plans, the kitchen, because he planned to prepare sandwiches, cookies and small cakes. "I want that, when someone comes to have breakfast or a snack with us, they come back and forever remember our flavors."

Richard kept reminding him that he wasn't much of a cook. It was true, he had a lot of cooking to learn but he was determined to do it and succeed in making his customers smile.

"I haven't decided anything on my own, Richard. Since we've known each other I've been talking to you about this."

"Since we met, yeah right, five months ago."

Joseph felt his cheeks turning red. His father, Amara, Amara, they had all told him that Richard and he were so different that even the time in which their relationship moved, they saw it as not very compatible. For Joseph five months meant they could take a step further in either direction; he was dying to open their business together and well, he was looking for a way to ask Richard to marry him.

"You should try living with him first," they'd all told him one way or another.

"You've been with some doughy guy, who has a huge apartment downtown, for five months, and he still hasn't told you to get out of your hundred-foot loft."

Owen, his father, didn't usually say things carefully and worst of all, he was usually right. Joseph had tried to bring up the subject of sharing an apartment, to live together, to have a life together or even just for the sake of sharing expenses. But every time they talked about it, Richard would come up with some excuse to shut down the discussion.

"Five months is a long time at our age, Richard. We're not kids anymore and... I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But that doesn't mean we have to share a business that we don't even know if it's going to work."

Joseph looked at Amara who was working at the back of the bar tending to two men. Then he saw Santiago, the new customer who had turned out to be his favorite writer, sitting at one of the tables who was trying hard to disguise that he was listening. No other customer was paying attention to him. That day he had no one else to lean on.

"How can you say that we don't know if it's going to work? We ran the numbers last week and the area where this place is is where the coffee shop idea we have would work best."

"The idea you have, babe. This idea is yours, this dream is yours and I've always told you that I'm not sure what future it might have. There are so many coffee shops in town, and I still don't see what it is that you are going to offer to attract people."

"Rick... I have told you many times about my dreams, and you have always supported me. I don't understand why you say these things now."

Joseph noticed his voice trembling as he said that. The words of the man he thought loved him were hurting him, they were falling on him like an avalanche in the middle of the mountain that you don't know how to stop and you feel it’s going to bury you.

"Of course I supported you in having a dream, I never told you that it seemed practical or doable. Sometimes dreams stay just that, Joseph, nice dreams that we can't carry out."

"But..."

"No buts, baby. I'm with you because I like you, because right now we work and because... well, we know where we work best."

Amara grimaced from across the counter as he heard Richard say that. She didn't even need to turn around to imagine how much those words were hurting Joseph, because they had talked about it on several occasions.

Joseph feared he was just being a simple diversion for Richard, because that was how they had started, one night, one bar and the bed in Richard's huge midtown Manhattan apartment; that was how their next few dates had been, sex and few words, until he had finally gotten Richard to agree to go out to dinner with him.

"Rick, I love you."

"Love is a big, complicated word and it doesn't have to mean the same thing to you as it does to me. I care about you more than a lot of other people I have around me, but I have no intention of leaving the job that allows me to have the life I have right now to embark on an idea I don't really believe in."

"Rick... I've told you all about my dream so many times that I was convinced you believed in me."

Richard reached out and caressed his cheek, with a gesture that seemed more paternal than that of a loving boyfriend concerned about the love of his life.

"I believe in you and I also believe that sometimes you get carried away by the clouds in your head. So I'm sorry, tiger, but I'm not going to be your partner. You're going to have to find your money elsewhere." He glanced at the clock, as if they weren't in the middle of a really important conversation. "Now if you don't mind, I have to go show a house. We'll talk tonight and find you a solution to get you out of that contract."

"But I don't want to..."

Richard leaned over the counter to deposit a quick kiss on Joseph's lips and turned to leave without further ado.

Watching the scene, even if it was in the distance, made Santiago feel bad. He'd had bad breakups with some of his exes, and had had to break up with a guy or two himself.

He didn't know Joseph very well and he could be wrong about him, but if he trusted his first intuition, he thought he was a good person, with a big heart, who was very clear about his life and what he hoped for the future.

What he had seen was a jerk letting someone like Joseph, who was worth it, get away, and worst of all was that now Santiago also felt bad about himself and the idea that he had decided to start flirting with Joseph and he was sure that the barista had returned his interest, without telling him that he had a boyfriend, even if nothing had really happened between them.

It had been a while since things with men hadn't been his forte. Neither was writing, and he was beginning to wonder if he would recognize the person he would find in front of him when he stood in front of a mirror.

He felt lost and right then he didn't know where to look or where to go.

He went home, he had been lucky the previous days to find the inspiration to write. Maybe if he ordered some dinner, took a bath, put on some relaxing music and watched a movie, the next day could be better.

The plan was perfect, sushi from his favorite place, salts in the bath, the playlist Michelle had given him from her curandera and the chance to relax on the couch. It could be the best way to wake up in a good mood the next day, grab the computer and start writing.

However, it wasn't even ten o'clock when the phone call came from his mother.

"Carlitos, mijo. Your father is in the hospital."

His mother's words echoed in his head during the cab ride to the hospital. "The doctors say he's very tired." "He's going to have to quit one of the three jobs." "Marcelo and the others say immigration could come to investigate."

"I hope your father gets well." The cab driver told him after he had been standing at the hospital door for five minutes.

He got out and stood there for a moment, staring at the hospital door that kept opening and closing. His father meant everything to him, as did his mother. She was the everything that brought the family together, that kept Santiago from arguing with his two sisters, the one who had helped him tell his father he was gay, the one who had spent almost every night of the three siblings' childhood taking care of them.

Their father on the other hand was the one who had risked everything for his family. Gabriel Carreras had left his life in Mexico to look for something better. With no money, no job and no security he had managed to give his three future children a life.

Now his father was in the emergency room waiting to undergo open heart surgery and his mother was crying in the waiting room. Santiago however, had been frozen in the damn hospital doorway until Helena, his older sister, parked her car, walked up to him and put a hand on his waist.

"Come on little brother, mom and dad need us, especially mom."

Andrea was a strong woman. A mother capable of carrying all the family's problems on her back, but when it came to facing the idea that her husband might not survive the operation that was going to put a pacemaker in him, her children soon saw that she seemed on the verge of falling apart.

Santiago sat next to her, the doctors told them the operation was going to be a long one. He and his sisters took turns being with their mother at all times, and Santiago took the opportunity of going to the cafeteria to buy lunch for everyone to call Oliver.

The last thing he could think of at that moment was to write a single word in his book.

"I'm sorry to hear about your father, my boy. I hope he gets well soon. Nowadays heart operations are quick and very effective."

"Yes, Oliver thank you. I'm sure they are. But I still wanted to ask you a favor."

"Sure, anything you want."

"I need a little more time to continue writing the novel. I know that will delay the times to send it out for revision, layout and so on, but right now I need to be with my family and-"

"I will take care of everything that goes behind writing the book, Santiago, don't worry about that. But the manuscript has to be written on time."

"Oliver, my father just had a heart attack and mother is a nervous wreck, she needs me."

"And I assure you I understand that. But I need that manuscript so that no one upstairs gets pissed off and there's nothing I can do about it. You understand that, don't you Santiago? I'm sure you're a smart guy."

"I can't write Oliver. I don't have my head in the right place to keep writing. Give me a few days."

"I'll give you exactly forty-eight hours to give me the next chapter, otherwise I'll have no choice but to make things a little uglier for you and give you less freedom."

"What are you talking about, Oliver?"

There was a short silence, Talbot was either bringing more intensity to the moment or just wanted to worry him. He was certainly succeeding.

"Look kid, I'm sorry about your father, but if I have to use the card that the money you're making from the first book is helping your illegal family live peacefully, then I will, and I know in that case I'll have your full attention so you'll have to work. got it?"

Santiago sighed. "Yes, Oliver."

"You're going to write you're going to give me the next chapter on time."

"Bye Oliver."

His mother sent him home to rest as soon as his father came out of surgery. The doctors told them it would take hours for him to wake up. He did the same for his sisters, because they had children to take care of at home.

"I'll let you know as soon as your father wakes up. You have nothing to worry about, Carlitos, I’ll take care of everything."

Santiago didn't tell her about Oliver's threat, it was the last thing his mother needed at that moment; just as she didn't need to know that her son was holding back from smashing his editor's face in for saying those things about his family.

Sleep was not an option. His brain was doing nothing but trying to come up with new scenes for the book, but all he could find was an abyss of inspiration and by the time he wanted to realize it was daylight, he hadn't managed to sleep a wink, although the four coffees in the evening hadn't helped.

He took a quick shower and after talking to his mother to get her to tell him how his father had spent the night in the hospital, he decided to grab the computer and head back to the Finca del Café. Apparently it was the only place where he was able to write.

It was early, they had just opened and it was empty. One of the baristas was setting the tables in order while Amara and Joseph were sitting at the same table where Santiago usually sat. She was saying something and waving her hands, but Joseph didn't seem very aware of what his friend was saying to him, he just seemed lost in thought and engrossed in the phone in his hands.

"There has to be some way to work it out. You signed it yesterday, if you say it was a mistake or that, I don't know, you've changed your mind."

"I can't, I got a discount, I was sure everything was done so that-how was I supposed to know Richard was going to let me down with this damn mortgage or whatever it's called?"

The door opened again and a group of teenagers, the same ones that went to the high school every morning came in to place their coffee order. Amara patted Joseph's hand and got up to serve them.

Santiago wasn't sure if it was a good or an intrusion, but he took to sitting in front of Joseph.

"I don’t want to bother you, I heard all about what happened with your boyfriend yesterday."

"My ex." Joseph stared at him. "He called me last night to ask me to dinner. I've just been a diversion for him and on top of that he thought we were on the same page about that."

"I'm so sorry. I guess these days are pretty awful...for everyone." Joseph looked up again. "Shit, I'm sorry, you have problems and I come in here, sit down and start pumping out my own story."

"You're my favorite author. I'd be happy if you wanted to share your trouble. At least then I won't think for the next few minutes that I've just ruined myself for the rest of my life."

"I've only written one book. I can't be your favorite writer."

"I promise I've read your book four times and three copies."

"Why?"

"English, Hebrew and Spanish."

"You speak Spanish?"

Joseph burst out laughing.

"No. I know that my high school years should have helped, but languages are not my thing. Then I tried to pick it up three times, but it didn't do me much good. Then came Berta and her book, her main character in love with the Puerto Rican boy. I didn't like the idea of not reading everything Santiago said in his native tongue and even though I understood almost nothing, it sounded... sexy."

Santiago was the one who burst out laughing when he heard that and blushed. He covered his face with his hands as he noticed his cheeks reddening and turned around to ask Amara for his usual coffee.

"Then I have to give you some bad news." He said finally. "Berta is in dry dock of inspiration for the second book and his publisher is putting the guillotine around his neck."

"Are you serious? But if the beginning of the book you let me read is great, I'm imagining everything that could happen and my ideas, if I knew how to write, could become a trilogy."

"Hey, well, if you want to share them, I'll make you Berta's co-author."

They both laughed for a moment, both stared at the other in silence, because they both thought they were joking but both wondered if the other was somehow being serious.

"Wait Are you serious? Are you asking me to help you write your book?" Santiago shrugged. He hadn't officially asked him for help, but if Joseph was willing to do it and managed to get him to write, he wasn't going to turn him down. "You remember I'm your number one fan right?"

"If you say it out loud again it's going to sound more like a stalker than a fan, but yes, I do and that's why I know that if there's anyone who can give me a hand in moving the novel forward, it's you." Joseph's eyes widened, the same thing happened to him as his mouth dropped open. "Nothing will be free, I'm not a freeloader. I meant it when I said I'd make you a co-author and therefore, you'll get paid for your work."

"Ahm..."

"It's silly, I know and I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't up to my neck in shit. My dad had a heart attack and... shit, it's not relevant. Nothing really is."

Joseph took his hand and stroked his arm. "You look like you haven't slept." Santiago shook his head in a negative gesture. "Is your father okay?"

"He'll be fine, the doctors said the operation went well... everything is fine. But, my editor, you know..." Santiago looked both ways and lowered his voice. "My parents have certain problems with their papers and apparently my editor knows about it."

"What a bastard...Listen, do you really want my help with the book? I'll do it, count me in, but I need... a favor in return, a very big one."

"I overheard your conversation with your partner. I know what happened with the place you wanted to buy. You need money for your business and I need your inspiration. I have money from my first book, and if you want... I can become your partner."

"Santiago, that's not exactly what I meant, it's a lot of money."

"If we put out the trilogy you're talking about, money won't be a problem."

#Tarlos-Spain #barista #idiots in love #falling in love #writer #Love at first sight #fandom trumps hate

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morganaspendragonss · 2 years

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if night falls in your heart (1/?)

yes, it's the long-awaited hypothermia/plane au which i've been, ahem, 'writing' since february. and, yes, you read that right. there's going to be multiple chapters. god help me. a million thanks to all the anons who have been asking about this fic and also to my wonderful betas @moviegeek03 and @tarlos-spain who were there when i was having crises and helped me push through the difficulties. it's because of them that you're getting this fic today and not in another few months. warnings and words counts will be posted for each individual chapter. title from start a riot by banners inspired by these asks ao3 | 2.4k | hurt/comfort, blood and injury, heart condition, hospitals

His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

It’s the excitement, he’s sure, and the fact that he’s been dancing for a while.

He’s okay.

He could do with some water though.

There’s no air in here, not with the mass of warm bodies moving and constantly pressing up against him.

The water pitcher is across the room, and it feels like he’s moving through treacle as he crosses the impossible distance towards it.

But then, suddenly, he’s there, and his hand is shaking as he reaches for the jug.

It’s too heavy, though, and it slips out of his grasp immediately, the shattering barely reaching his ears as a wave of dizziness overtakes him.

TK gasps, and then the world goes dark.

The first sign that something is wrong is the tremble in TK’s arms as he hands Jonah back to Gwyn. Carlos tries not to worry too much because things like that happen these days; TK’s recovery has been going well, but he still gets a little shaky after significant exertion, and dancing around with a baby for nearly an hour definitely qualifies.

But his face is too pale and his breathing too shallow, which immediately brings all his fears back.

The sound of glass breaking into a million pieces silences the room, and Carlos whips around just in time to see TK wavering in place, empty fist still outstretched as the water jug lies in jagged shards at his feet. He runs, but, short though the distance is, he doesn’t make it before TK crumbles.

He crashes to his knees, heedless of the broken glass, and his hands are hovering over TK, ready to shake him, when he spots it.

The pool of blood slowly spreading out from TK’s prone form, and the shard piercing all the way through his shoulder.

“Capt—” he starts, but she’s already there, gently moving him out of the way to bend over TK. Carlos lets himself be pushed back, even as it reminds him of the hospital, of gloved hands shoving him out of the room as TK lay there dying.

But, that time, the doctors had closed the curtains when things became too serious. That time, Carlos had sat in a waiting room chair, having to imagine all the things that could be happening inside Room 308 of West Park Memorial’s ICU.

This time, he has a front row seat as wires are connected to TK’s chest and the Lifepak emits a series of rapid beeps, as Tommy rattles off endless stats and Nancy inserts an IV into the back of TK’s hand.

Carlos can almost feel the snow whipping around them, can almost hear the wind howling, and the pain on Nancy and Tommy’s faces say that he’s not the only one. Distantly, he’s aware of Grace ushering the twins outside, of the crew’s hushed mutterings, of Tommy’s instructions to Nancy intermingled with firm pleas to TK.

But all he’s really, truly conscious of is the way TK’s blood stands out against his white shirt and the paleness of his face.

He’s pushed even further back when Judd and Paul descend with the backboard, and Carlos is stuck on his knees as TK is loaded into the ambulance. His eyes fix on the blood staining the newly-laid flooring, watching as it starts to creep towards the fabric of his dress pants, and he almost jumps out of his skin when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder.

“Come on,” Gwyn says, helping him to his feet. “We need to be there.”

Carlos nods and takes a step forward, before his eyes find Owen’s and he stops abruptly. “Owen—”

“Owen’s going to follow us in the car,” she replies, her tone suggesting that it was less of a choice on Owen’s part than an order on hers. Any other time, Carlos might question it, or at least offer to stay back himself, but Tommy is shouting at them to hurry up if they want to ride along, and the thought of being away from TK now has him almost tripping over his feet in his rush to get to the ambulance.

Tommy smiles gently at him when he gets in. “His stats are returning to normal,” she says. “They’ll run some tests at the hospital and we’ll get this figured out, I promise.”

Carlos wants to believe her. But TK is still unconscious and this isn’t supposed to be happening at all, he’s supposed to be better—

“I… We just got him back,” he whispers.

Tommy nods, leaning over from her position by TK’s head to squeeze his knee. “He’s not going anywhere,” she says, but the look on her face tells Carlos that she knows it’s another promise she can’t be guaranteed to keep.

Still, Carlos nods; he needs this one thing to hold on to.

Gwyn slides in next to him, the space really too tight for the both of them, but none of them seem to care. Her eyes are shiny and her lips tremble as she tries to smile, even when it’s clear that, like him, she’s barely holding it together. And when she offers her hand, Carlos doesn’t hesitate to take it, gripping on tight as the doors slam shut and the ambulance starts up.

TK is awake by the time they’re let back to see him, thoroughly disoriented and clearly in extreme levels of pain. The doctors have put him on some non-opioid based medication, but it evidently doesn’t hold a candle to the stronger stuff, if the creases on TK’s face are anything to go by.

They’ve also given him a nasal cannula; yet another reminder of those long days when TK’s recovery had been anything but certain.

Carlos had been so relieved when TK had started to fight that day — he’d thought, naively, that they could only go up from there. And then the doctor had arrived, and she’d pulled him straight back down to Earth.

“This is a positive sign,” she’d said, in a tone that Carlos just knew meant a ‘but’ was to follow. “But the next few days are crucial. He is beginning to fight back, but the effort of waking up would have been immense, and it would have put significant strain on his heart. We’ll need to keep a careful eye on his vitals just in case he begins to backslide.”

Carlos can’t forget the terror those words had sent through him. The idea they could get this miracle, only for it to be snatched away just as quickly… It didn’t bear thinking about.

“How likely is that to happen?”

“It’s not impossible. His chances are significantly better than they were a couple of hours ago, but we need to wait and run a few more tests before getting too comfortable.”

But TK had proved them all wrong, and he had made it back to his old self.

Only, now… Well, TK may not have died, but it still feels like the miracle is fading in Carlos’s grasp.

It’s crueller this way, he thinks.

“How are you feeling, babe?” he asks, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. He reaches out and rubs TK’s hand — the one not immobilised — with his thumb, then gently brings it to his lips.

TK sighs and his eyes flutter shut, though the pained lines remain. “Tired.” A breath, and he moves the hand Carlos was holding to his chest, fingers brushing the edge of the bandage on his shoulder. “Hurts.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, baby.” Carlos retakes TK’s hand but he’s forced to look away as tears fill his vision. It’s not going to be long before the doctor walks through the doors to tell them TK’s prognosis, and he has no idea what he’s going to do if it’s bad news.

If TK isn’t going to get better this time…

Carlos won’t be able to handle it.

“Babe?”

Carlos immediately looks over at the sound of TK’s weak voice, brushing away his tears with his free hand. He knows neither that nor the wobbly smile he tries will do much to disguise his pain, but he’s just hoping that TK won’t be able to see it in his current condition.

But of course — of course — he’s wrong.

“Are… Are you okay?”

He strokes a hand over TK’s head and gently kisses his temple. “I’m fine,” he lies.

Carlos knows TK sees through him, but he’s spared the effort of arguing when Gwyn and Owen walk back into the room, followed by Doctor Patel. They both look drained, faces drawn as they come to flank TK, Owen giving Carlos a solitary pat on the shoulder.

Doctor Patel looks around at all four of them and sighs softly. “I have good news and bad news,” she says. “The bad news is that it seems TK’s heart suffered more damage than we originally thought. The results we’re seeing so far indicate that his EF number is significantly below normal, which means he’s at higher risk for heart failure, arrhythmias, future coronary problems… What happened today was a mild demonstration of this.”

“Mild?” Gwyn interjects, a sharp edge to her tone. “He collapsed, he—”

“Mom.” TK’s breath of a voice cuts her off and he squints up at her in something resembling reproach. “Let her talk.”

Doctor Patel smiles sympathetically at Gwyn. “I understand, Ms. Morgan. I imagine it will not be much comfort, but TK’s current state has more to do with his shoulder injury and the blood loss stemming from that. His collapsing is a concern, but it is in line with what we can expect to see with conditions such as his, though, of course, we will need to do more tests to determine the extent of the damage. In layman’s terms, what happened today was akin to a minor heart attack, but it could have been much worse.

“I advise you to proceed with great caution, Mr. Strand. Fortunately, the good news is there are treatment options we can pursue, but they’re not foolproof. Depending on what your results say, we may need to consider changes to your lifestyle.”

With that bombshell dropped, Doctor Patel nods at them and leaves the room. Carlos sighs and slumps in his chair as she goes, partly in relief that it wasn’t worse, and partly in despair that it could have been.

And, worse, still could be.

He holds TK’s hand between both of his and squeezes as tight as he can, as if, somehow, it will keep TK alive.

“I’m taking him to New York,” Gwyn announces on the day of TK’s discharge. They’ve all been sent out to the waiting room as the nurses run some final tests, and both Owen and Carlos turn to stare at her. Owen looks tired and there’s a tick in his jaw that speaks for the argument that’s soon to follow, while Carlos can’t summon up much more emotion than confusion and a surge of the worry that’s been lingering ever since TK first fell through the ice, if he’s being honest with himself.

Jonah, for his part, quietly continues trying to chew on Gwyn’s hair.

“I think it would be good for him,” she continues, expertly sweeping her hair away from Jonah and replacing it with a toy. “Besides, I have a contact in Manhattan, she’s the best cardiologist in the state and I think she should take a look at TK. I don’t trust the doctors here.”

Owen lifts his gaze to the ceiling in a gesture Carlos can only partially sympathise with. Owen hadn’t been here when the doctors had said there was nothing they could do, and a bitter, undoubtedly unfair, part of Carlos has to wonder if another doctor might have been able to. Plus, after all this, he really wouldn’t mind a second opinion on how TK really is. A third and a fourth, too; anything so long as he gets the reassurance he craves.

It’s the New York part Carlos is getting stuck on.

“Could we not just take him to another doctor here?” he puts in quietly, though he almost regrets it when Gwyn turns her gaze on him — he should really have learned by now that arguing with Gwyneth Morgan is not a good idea.

“It took the doctors here months to find out about this,” she says. There’s a sharpness in her look and tone that Carlos knows isn’t directed fully at him, but it’s still intimidating to be on the other end of. “TK could have died. I want to be certain that my son is going to get better this time, and I’d rather trust somebody I know than a stranger.”

“Gwyn,” Owen starts, “he’s… TK needs to rest. Is it really a smart idea to drag him across the country so soon after — everything?”

“It is if it means he lives,” she snaps, and, just like that, the argument is over. Carlos can read the defeat on Owen’s face as he sighs and slumps back in his chair, teeth worrying at his lip as he stares at the closed door to TK’s room.

“As long as he’s safe,” he agrees eventually, and Carlos can only nod.

As long as TK’s safe, he thinks he’d do anything.

TK is suspiciously quiet when they’re allowed back in to see him. He seems apprehensive at the thought of leaving the hospital, and he surprises everyone when he agrees to Gwyn’s plan without any protest. Carlos frowns at him, reaching out to rub his tight shoulders, though Owen beats him to the question.

“Son, are you okay? Did the doctors say something to you?”

TK’s eyes flick to his father, and his weary smile is less-than convincing. “No, I’m good, Dad. It’s… It’s nothing. I guess I just thought all this was over.”

Owen nods and runs his hand over TK’s head. “I know. I know, but you’ll be okay. Things will turn out, you’ll see.”

TK hums noncommittally, and even Carlos wishes he could borrow some of Owen’s apparently unfailing optimism. But he’s not going to make the mistake of being too positive again; they’d all done that once before, and look how it had turned out.

He desperately needs to believe that TK is going to be okay, but he can’t think yet that there won’t be more surprises down the road. Really, Carlos is certain there will be.

He just hopes they won’t be as bad as this one.

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noxsoulmate · 2 years

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Art made by: @chaotictarlos 💕

I finally finished my alternate reconciliation fic 🥳🥳 it's now with my beta and I really hope to post it sometime in December.

This fic was supposed to just be a 5k piece of TK taking care of drunken Carlos while they're broken up... and it exploded to a 22k work 😅😂 So I hope you're all willing to read that many words of TK and Carlos finding their way back to each other, with long talks and lots of emotions 🥰

If you aren't on my tagging list yet and would like to be added (either in general or just for this fic), let me know.

As a little teaser, have the beginning of the fic 😊 (under the cut)

PS: I still love you, too

The phone call at one in the morning came out of nowhere but it was a welcome distraction from TK’s fitful slumber. Why he even bothered really trying to sleep was beyond him – he never truly found any rest nowadays.

Still, the time was rather unusual, and most of the time, it didn’t mean anything good. Especially not when it came from an unknown number. Bracing for the worst, TK tried to shake out the cobwebs in his brain and answered on the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

Before he even heard a voice, he could hear music in the background and some chatter, laughter, certainly a small crowd – typical noises of a club or maybe a bar or something. It didn’t make sense to his sleep-addled mind.

“TK?” came a familiar voice, even though he couldn’t place it. “You mind stopping by to pick up your boyfriend?”

TK wondered if he had even fully woken up because none of this made any sense. No sense at all. “Who’s this?” he finally slurred, rubbing his eyes and sitting up fully, putting his feet on the cold hardwood floor. Maybe that would help him see more clearly.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice replied, and for a moment, TK was sure that out of the ruckus going on in the background, he heard an even more familiar voice. “This is Katy from the honky tonk. Carlos is here and he’s pretty sloshed and I can’t let him drive like this. Are you on shift or can you come and pick him up?”

TK was glad he was still sitting because out of everything he had expected – from his mother being in the hospital, to his father being lost somewhere in the hills and calling from an unknown landline, to a simple prank caller – this was certainly not high on his list.

“I– I’m sorry… what?”

“Shit, sorry, can you even hear me? It’s pretty loud here tonight, hang on–”

“No, no, it’s fine,” TK interrupted, taking a deep breath to center himself. “No, it’s okay. I was just… I mean… uhm, Carlos and I–”

Carlos and he what?

Were taking a break? Were over? So please call someone else?

TK still hated himself for what he had done to the man he loved more than his own life – he certainly wouldn’t deny him any help. Even if Carlos most likely wouldn’t ask for it himself. After everything TK had done, it would be a surprise if he wouldn’t strangle him the second he saw him. Though on the other hand, Carlos was far too nice a person for that, so it was more likely that he would just ignore TK.

But none of that mattered when Carlos needed him – and it certainly wasn’t anything he needed to discuss with Katy. Who, obviously, was still in the dark about the two of them. They hadn’t been at the Honky Tonk together in weeks, for obvious reasons, but Katy didn’t seem to find that odd.

Besides, if Carlos was truly sloshed, then maybe he wouldn’t even realize it was TK who helped him. Because if he would, TK was pretty sure he would resist.

Noxy's Tagging List:

@chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @sapphire11, @bubblesandroses8, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @otter-love-asl, @tarlos-spain, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @lightningboltreader, @tarlossource

#tarlos #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #noxy writes #alternative reconciliation #teaser #preview

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lire-casander · 2 years

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I'm back from my surgery. It went well, despite my small breakdown and crying in front of the doctor, and now my mouth looks like Frankenstein's but it'll be fine by the end of the month when I'll have my stitches taken out.

Thank you everyone for your support, especially @moviegeek03 and @tarlos-spain and @noxsoulmate for listening to me while I whined about my fears, and to @tkandbuck @once-1n-a-lifetime @nielrian and @bine-nr9 for sharing the music that's helped me get through this!

#my friends are amazing #up close and personal

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chaotictarlos · 1 year

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[redacted]

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

Rating: explicit| Warnings / Tags: m x m smut, use of sex toys, spanking, spanking via a belt, use of a vibrator, bondage, some degrading language used

Summary: TK posts a picture that certainly gets Carlos' attention.

Author's Note: This fic took entirely too long to write, but that happens sometimes. What started out as me being silly (and a little parnoid to share parts of this fic because I was having issues with someone copying my ideas) and using [redacted] in place of names when posting sneak peaks of this turned into my actually titling it that. I had a lot of fun with this fic. Thank you to @paperstorm , @thebumblecee , @mooshkat , @cowlos-reyes , and @detective-giggles for allowing me to scream about this fic to no end. Thank you to @meditating-honey-badger for being the best beta.

And thank you to my lovely friend in the TWP Discord who are always so encouraging and wonderful. This fic would be nowhere without you guys.

set in the same universe as my slutty carlos fics We can get a little crazy just for fun

---

Carlos has the day off so he decides that he’s going to spend it visiting with his sisters and their children. It’s been a few weeks since he’s last seen them - busy with work, attending galas, and keeping up with TK - so he wants to take advantage of the day off while TK has to work. They try to get their days off to line up so they can spend time together without being tired from work, but there are always a few days during the month when things don’t align perfectly.

They don’t mind though, they use those days to do things they might not do when they’re off together. Sometimes TK attends meetings or spends the day on Facetime with Jonah - virtually going to museums and other places - and Carlos usually spends the time with his family or any of the dozen errands he never seems to have time to catch up on.

On this day he met up with his sisters and their families at one of the local restaurants for breakfast and then Carlos tagged along with them to the aquarium for the afternoon - thankfully not the zoo because last time his nieces and nephews made him go through the reptile exhibit and Carlos had hated it. Fish were much safer to look at and there was no chance of seeing a lizard.

They’re on their way to the dolphin show when his phone chimes with TK’s text tone. He digs through his pocket for his phone and gets it out, pulling the preview down to look at it. It’s a picture, and Carlos is almost certain it’s probably something he shouldn’t be looking at in public. He makes an excuse, dips into the nearest restroom, and opens the text.

His mouth goes dry as the picture loads. It’s obscene and unsafe to look at in the aquarium, but he can’t help it. His body heats up, cock twitching in his jeans and he’s filled with want that just keeps growing the longer he looks at it. TK is in the shower, sitting on the floor, and the glass door is steamy - probably due to TK trying to make a faux sauna in their bathroom. He has one leg bent at the knee, the other crossed on the floor in a position that makes him very open and if it wasn’t for the towel artfully draped across his middle Carlos would be able to see everything.

Carlos spends entirely too long looking at the picture, taking in every single detail, and committing it to memory. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to finish the day with his family with that image burned into his brain. It takes all his self-control and willpower to pull his eyes from the photo and type out a message to TK.