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The first time TK Strand met Carlos Reyes he knew he was done for.
He was so sweet and kind and incredibly hot. If it were any normal point in his life, he would have been all in. But this was not a normal part of his life by a long shot. He had just gotten out of a serious relationship, relapsed, overdosed, and moved across the county with his father (to Texas, of all places) to rebuild a firehouse.
No, these were not normal times.
But there was something about this officer that even as he brusquely exited the man’s house he almost wanted to turn back. He almost wanted to take him up on his offer, to spend time with him.
But that would only lead to disaster. TK was a mess, he knew that. He wasn’t ready for a relationship. He couldn’t stand being broken again.
So, he left. He didn’t even look back.
TK thought he had been pretty clear in his expectations for his “relationship” with Carlos. He thought that leaving without more than two words after mind-blowingly amazing sex was pretty clear, but clearly Carlos Reyes followed a different rule book.
Maybe it’s a Texas thing, TK thought wryly as he followed the other man to the table, taking the seat indicated to him.
But then the champagne appeared, and TK’s brain went into overdrive.
It was like he was watching himself from a distance. He knew he was being an ass; he could see clearly as each of his pointed remarks hit their mark and Carlos wilted just a bit more. He knew he was hurting this amazingly sweet and sexy guy, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
It’s dinner, not a marriage proposal.
His mind went blank. All he could see and hear was white noise, and then he was gone. He was outside Carlos’s house, and he was reeling. He was livid, so angry at Carlos.
He hated himself.
He didn’t know why he was like this, why he couldn’t seem to separate from the past long enough to have a normal interaction, why he couldn’t manage to keep his head long enough to calmly explain. They had gotten their signals crossed, that was really all it came down to.
Carlos had no way of knowing what triggers he had just laid out in front of him. The champagne had been a romantic gesture, the remark about the marriage proposal a joke made in self-defense. And TK was too wrapped up in his own dysfunction to even take a moment to maybe explain something, to open up just a bit.
A part of him wanted to go back; to calmly sit at the table and explain why.
But the other part – the stronger part – said this was for the best. He wasn’t ready, it was too soon. This was not a good ending, but it was an ending. They would see each other at work, and it would be awkward for a while, but they would be professional about it and they would move on. In time, no one would even remember. It was for the best, really.
He almost believed it.
That itch was getting stronger every moment.
Everything that had happened over the past two days – the disastrous dinner with Carlos, the accident at the silo, the fight with Judd – was piling up. The itch was growing stronger by the minute and a part of him knew that if he just gave in it would all go away. He wouldn’t think about it anymore. He would stop dwelling on it, stop reliving every single moment of the conversation with Carlos, stop watching as his face fell. He saw it on loop. His mind would finally be quiet.
But there was still a part of him that saw the reality of that choice. That knew if he used again, it would all be over. This new life he was building, his career, his relationship with his dad, possibly even his life. Today, that part was stronger.
He needed a new outlet. He needed something else to distract his mind. He couldn’t live at the gym in the station and hooking up with Carlos was clearly out of the question. So, he did the next best thing.
It took him three minutes flat to achieve his goal. The adrenaline coursed through his veins as he dodged the first punch and then the second. It rushed through his ears, quieting everything as he threw his first punch, and then his second. This was it; this was what he had needed.
Silence, for just a few moments.
It was over almost as quickly as it had started and when the cuffs clicked around his wrists, he a moment of clarity and he realized he had not quite thought this through. How the hell was he going to explain this? “Hey dad, good news – I didn’t touch any drugs. Bad news, I got arrested and need you to bail me out.”
Yeah, that was not going to work. He was officially the biggest idiot.
He was taking some time to mourn his poor life choices and nurse his wounds when the officer he had been assigned to arrived, and TK had to admit that the universe at least seemed to have a sense of humor.
He appreciated that Carlos was keeping it so professional, but the cold tone and avoidance of eye contact hurt. He deserved at least, that he supposed.
There was real pain there behind the mask of professionalism and TK could feel the guilt stabbing him. He wanted to take this win, to grab his personal items and run (again), but something stopped him. He owed him an explanation, at the very least.
And then, he said it. He explained. He told him…not exactly everything, but more than he had told anyone else.
There was an irony somewhere in the fact that the only two people who knew the truth about TK were his dad and this Austin cop. Maybe it wasn’t irony – maybe there was something else to it.
He finishes his spiel and looks at Carlos – Officer Reyes – expectantly. He is studiously staring down at his paperwork. TK feels his heart sink a little bit, but he picks up his things and walks away. Carlos has every right to never want to talk to him again, but TK already feels a little lighter.
A voice calls him back, “Judging by that lip, I’d say mission accomplished.”
It is wry, but there is an edge of something in there. Forgiveness, maybe?
TK spins around, an incredulous look on his face, “Are you really busting my balls right now?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
And there’s a smile and TK rolls his eyes, but he knows now. It is forgiveness – this doesn’t have to be over yet.
They try this dating thing again, in public this time. Maybe the Honky-Tonk bar that TK frequents with the crew was not the most ideal of locales, but TK was still new in town he didn’t know too many places, sue him.
It’s not going terribly, but there is still some tension between them. He supposed that when you’ve only known someone about a week and have already slept with them, crushed their heart, and been arrested by them there was bound to be some lingering tension.
The fact that he can’t help but glare at Judd across the room is not helping the situation any.
Carlos says something about it, and TK can’t let it go. He can’t take the out that Carlos is giving him. There’s a joke, an easy exit, but he doesn’t take it. Finally, Carlos drops the nice guy act and tells him what he’s really thinking.
Maybe this is what TK had wanted – someone else to pick a fight with. But Carlos’s words strike a nerve with him, and he realizes it’s because they’re the truth. He looks at him with new eyes. How this man who has known him for only a few weeks can get so close to the core of who he is and what is really bothering him is…disconcerting, to say the least. But somehow refreshing.
He takes the jibe and parries it with a quip and sees that smile return to Carlos’s face.
This is certainly something he could get used to.
TK wanted to help out Paul, he wanted to remind him there was still plenty to do even without a date, he wanted to remind him that there were plenty of fish in the sea. That part he got. Friendship was something he understood.
The fact that Carlos has been the first one he called when he came up with this idea was something else entirely. TK had noticed that calling the officer had become more and more of a habit over the past few weeks. It was almost like breathing now; something he did without even really thinking about it. He’d see something funny he’d text him about it. He had some extra time around lunchtime, he’d call to check-in. He wanted to take his friend out, he called Carlos.
There was something there that TK was unwilling to fully analyze at this point. He thought that maybe it spoke to something bigger happening between them, that maybe something had started without him being fully aware of it.
He was still dwelling on it as he waited outside the firehouse for Carlos. When he pulled up he got out of the car to give TK a quick kiss that he eagerly returned. They leaned on the car, waiting for Paul, chatting about everything and nothing.
It was so easy, so natural, that TK really didn’t know what to make of it. It scared him a little bit.
But then Carlos leaned into him and bantered with Paul and then held him close at the club and he found that he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He didn’t want to run this time.
He had heard that fact about people in comas being able to hear the people around them more times than he could count, but now that he was on the other side of a coma, he wasn’t really sure he had a clear answer.
Mostly, his recollection was just black. It was like he had told his dad; he remembered their conversation, petting Buttercup and then, nothing. Nothing definite, at least. There were vague feelings. Snippets of sound and sensations that made no sense. There was pain and panic and warmth. There were unidentified voices, there were disembodied touches. You could have told him that Elvis had come to visit and he would have no way to say you weren’t telling the truth.
But somehow, when his dad mentioned Carlos, he wasn’t surprised. Not so much in that he knew the other man would have come by – he had been on the scene, there was no way he wouldn’t have known – but in the fact that he had a feeling that Carlos had been there. It was nothing concrete, nothing definite. Just the ghost of a touch on his arm, the feeling of a hand in his hair.
It was also in the way his dad was looking at him, with that knowing look he got. Clearly, he knew there was something going on. He wanted to ask for details, wanted to know the specifics, but it felt like treading on something sacred.
He hadn’t been ready for this thing that they had to be exposed to the world just yet. It had been so nice just being the two of them. Just existing and spending time. Sure, they’d been out at the bar where they knew a lot of people, sure they’d gone out with Paul. But this was new territory and he felt blindsided that he hadn’t even gotten a say.
Which is why when his dad offered to call Carlos, to tell him that he could stop by again now that TK was conscious, he asked him not to. He wasn’t ready to face this new thing just yet. It felt like he was being forced, and TK had never been one to be forced into anything. He was more the type to run in the opposite direction with so much speed he turned himself inside out.
So, he wouldn’t call Carlos today. He would take some time, get used to being alive again.
He would take some time to sort out those memories he had, to figure out what he was supposed to do with those. They had to mean something.
He hadn’t meant to break up with Carlos when he asked to meet him today. He…well, he really had no idea what he had intended to do but it was definitely not what had happened. He had wanted to thank Carlos for coming to visit while he was hurt, it had meant a lot. He had wanted to talk about their future, but he panicked. He didn’t have the answers Carlos wanted, so he gave him the only truth he had. He certainly hadn’t planned on giving CPR to a trapped woman on a burning bus, but fate was funny like that he supposed.
The funniest thing was, he reflected as he rode quietly in the ambulance, that he now had the answers Carlos had wanted. He knew exactly what he wanted for them.
Of course, the revelation had come about 20 minutes late, but that was pretty much par for the course.
He knew what he wanted, and it was not what he had said. He wanted to be with Carlos, he wanted to make a real go of it with him. He was sure they would have gotten there eventually if a bullet hadn’t intervened and triggered a quarter-life crisis. But when it came to him, the universe seemed to have one hell of a sense of humor.
He just hoped he could convince the other man to talk to him long enough to tell him; that he could convince him that yes, this was the end of the crazy train. He was ready do things on Carlos’s terms if he was even still interested.
He was impatient through the entire process of getting his stitches repaired. He was trying his best to hold still but he was twitchy with anxious energy. He felt like he was on a deadline, that if he didn’t call Carlos before the hour was up their chance would be gone like ships in the night.
As the nurse left to get his release forms, he studied his (ruined) shirt and worked on making a plan. His phone had been destroyed somewhere between the solar storm and the flooded bus, so he would need to find a way to call Carlos. Then, he would beg for his forgiveness.
It was a rough plan, but it was all he had.
He was so intent on trying to piece together the digits floating in his head into the right order for Carlos’s number (512…9? 7?) that he didn’t even hear the curtain open. He was absolutely unaware of another presence in the room until he heard a voice, “Hydrogen peroxide is great for getting blood stains out.”
He jumped, and then winced. Fresh stitches did not appreciate sudden movements, apparently. He heard quick footsteps as Carlos crossed the room, looked up to see him wincing in sympathy.
“Carlos?” TK says in confusion once he has his breath back, “What are you doing here?”
Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well, your dad and team are still on shift and it’s not like you really know anyone else here in Austin that you could call, so I told your dad I’d come see how you were doing and drive you home.”
They stare at each other for a few silent moments before TK shakes his head, “even after I pretty much dumped you not even an hour ago you volunteer to pick me up from the hospital. You really are too good to be true, Carlos Reyes.”
He meant it; seriously, who did that? (Not that he was complaining. This actually solved at least one part of his dilemma quite nicely.)
“I like to think of it as the decent thing to do,” Carlos responded wryly.
“But how many people actually would do it?”
“I’d like to think that most people would come to check on someone they care about after watching them get stuck in a flaming bus after getting shot not even a week ago.”
TK barely contained a wince at that. Yeah, that was more than fair. He had done it again; gotten so far into his head that he had forgotten about how things could affect other people.
“You still care about me, even after all that?” he asked softly.
Carlos stepped closer, “I think I may always care about you Tyler, and so far it doesn’t look like anything is going to change that.”
TK met his eyes. What had he done right in life to deserve anyone like this?
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, “I’m a mess, I’m probably going to hurt you even if I’m not trying to.”
As much as he desperately wanted this he knew he had to make sure Carlos knew what he was getting into. He needed him to know that he was trying, but that he wasn’t perfect.
Carlos closed the distance between them, and grasped the hand holding the ruined shirt, “What are you trying to say, Ty?”
The way he said his name sent shivers up TK’s spine.
“I’m saying that something about being in that bus, trying to save that woman gave me the clarity I haven’t had in a while. Definitely not since I got shot, possibly not since before I even left New York. You know how I said that I wasn’t sure about anything right now, and that included us?”
“Vividly,” Carlos said dryly.
TK winced, “Yeah well, about that. When I was in that bus, trying to save her, even when I knew that I probably couldn’t and she was telling me to go, I felt at peace. Everything made sense in a way it hadn’t in so long. I’m meant to be a firefighter; I’m meant to be here in Austin.”
He paused for a moment and put his other hand on top of Carlos’s. This was the part he needed to say, but was so scared to, “and I think I’m meant to be with you, if you’ll have me.”
He looked up at Carlos expectantly, awaiting his verdict. Carlos looked thoughtful, considering. But only for a moment. In the next, he was capturing TK’s mouth with his and TK happily obliged. There was so much poured into this kiss, so many words that couldn’t be said. TK felt that maybe for the first time, they were finally on the same page.
It was over far too soon, but as they broke apart Carlos looked down at TK, “Once you’re discharged, how about we go somewhere and talk this out a little more?” he asked.
TK smiled at him. He was still marveling at his good fortune, that after all the shit he had done someone, somewhere decided he deserved this much happiness.
“I’d like that,” he replied, “but there’s something I need to do first.”
There were more conversations he needed to have today, but this was one he wanted to keep having for a long time.