Work Text:
TK knew he wasn’t okay.
There was something about today, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, where every single thing that happened seemed to happen to him. Where everything that happened just piled on. Everything somebody said seemed to bury him deeper under this pile of despair. He knew they were all just humoring him; he knew he was a liability that needed to be looked after. He knew that offers to help him with inventory meant that they didn’t trust him to do it, he knew that frequent check-ins during calls meant that they didn’t trust him to his own devices. He knew he was the problem that everyone else had to look out for.
By the end of the day, he felt like his back was aching from the strain of carrying it all.
At the end of the day, he left the station with no more than a strained smile in response to his team's goodbyes, their forced levity and faked politeness.
He was a problem, they all knew it. They didn’t actually care about him, they didn’t actually like him. They were just being polite for appearances. He knew that with a cold certainty that had settled in his mind and wouldn’t leave.
He left the station in a cloud of doubt and headed home. It wasn’t until he walked in the door that he started to relax, just a bit.
At least until Carlos - wonderful, amazing Carlos - looked up from the pot he was stirring in the kitchen to smile at him. “Hey, how was work?”
TK felt his genuine smile start to slip but he threw up a new one, a false one. This one was bulletproof. “Fine,” he answered lightly as he crossed the room. Carlos didn’t need to know; Carlos didn’t need this on his plate. Carlos didn’t need to be burdened by the fact that his boyfriend was a screw up that everyone hated.
TK didn’t need him second-guessing his choices, wondering if TK was really worth the effort - he already knew that answer.
He approached the counter and returned the kiss Carlos leaned over to give him. “What are you making?”
“Cacio e pepe.” At TK’s bewildered look he chuckled and explained, “It’s basically just spaghetti with parmesan and black pepper, but it tastes amazing.”
TK grinned, “I’ll take you word for it. Anything I can do?”
Carlos pointed to the counter by the sink with his spoon, “could you finish cutting up the veggies for the salad? I got started on them but then the pasta was done and I got occupied by that…”
TK rolled his eyes and patted his shoulder as he walked around him, “No worries, I think I can handle that at least.” He grinned at Carlos before approaching the space indicated and picking up the abandoned knife. He gathered the carrots and started chopping. He was doing pretty well too for someone who has been banned from ever using a kitchen unsupervised, he thought to himself. Maybe he wasn’t completely useless.
He should have known better than to tempt fate. At that very moment when his mind was elsewhere one of the carrots rolled out of position and in his haste to grab it lost track of where the knife was until the blade came down squarely on his palm. He cursed loudly and let the knife fall to the counter with a clatter as he grabbed for his injured hand, pulling it away from the food before he contaminated anything with the blood spilling from the cut.
Carlos was at his side in an instant, face furrowed in concern as he grabbed for TK’s hands and gently pried his good hand off of the injured on so he could see the damage. He let out a concerned noise when he saw the cut, and the amount of blood. “That looks pretty deep Ty,” he said lowly, “we should probably get you to the ER.”
“No,” TK said with rather more force than he had meant to, “no,” he repeated in a more neutral tone, “it’s fine, I can take care of it. I just need some gauze and bandages”
“TK…”
“It’s fine Carlos,” he snapped, “I can handle it.”
There was stunned silence in the kitchen. When Carlos spoke again, his voice was colder. “Then don’t let me stop you. You know where everything is.” Then he dropped TK’s hand and walked away, returning to the pan of pasta and turning his back to TK.
TK cursed to himself, congratulating himself on another fuck up before he left the kitchen taking care not to let the blood now running down his arm drip onto the floor. He entered the bathroom and pulled the medicine cabinet open, pulling out the necessary materials with shaking hands. He didn’t understand why he was like this. Carlos was the one person he was sure liked him for being himself, and he couldn’t even manage to get this one right. Maybe it was this nagging feeling that if he ever let Carlos know; that if he ever truly saw the depth of the disaster that was TK Strand, that would be the end. And TK wouldn't even be able to blame him - who in their right mind would actually sign up for that?
He fumbled with the box of bandages, struggling between a hand slick with blood and the tears clouding his eyes. He had screwed up the only good thing he had going for him, again. He was not made for happiness. The box slipped from his trembling grip and clattered to the floor. He let out a grunt of frustration and reached for the gauze instead. It came tumbling out as well, along with everything else on the shelf. It all rained down to the floor around him with an almighty clatter and TK just stared down at it.
He was still standing there, just staring at the mess around him that seemed like an all too fitting metaphor when the door to the bathroom flung opened to reveal Carlos with a panicked expression.
“Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly, “I heard a crash…” he trailed off as he took in the scene; the scatter boxes and bottles, TK in the middle; blood slowly dripping down his arm as he just stared down at the mess he had caused. “TK?” he asked cautiously, moving forward slowly with an outstretched hand, “Are you okay?”
TK tried to speak, cleared his throat, and tried again, “yeah...I’m...I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Carlos observed. There was no malice in it, no teasing: just a statement of fact.
“I am though, it’s fine, I’ve...got this under control.”
Even as he said it he was aware of how ridiculous that sounded. He was bleeding and crying in the middle of the contents of Carlos’s medicine cabinet. He had nothing under control.
To his credit, Carlos didn’t deny it. He shook his head and gently reached for TK’s injured arm, pulling him out of the debris and towards the edge of the tub where he pushed him into a sitting position. Then, without a word, he turned back to the mess on the floor and grabbed what he needed before coming back to TK and kneeling in front of him. He didn’t say a word as he gently took TK’s hand and used a wet washcloth he had grabbed to wipe the blood away. He continued his ministrations in complete silence, the only sound the rustling of the gauze and bandages he wound tightly around TK’s hand. When he was done he pulled it closer to examine his work.
“You should keep it elevated for a while, and I want to check it in about an hour to make sure bleeding has stopped. If it hasn’t you’re going to the ER and that’s that.”
He released TK’s hand and moved away, back towards the pile of things on the floor. He picked them all up without a word and placed them back on the shelf in the medicine cabinet. TK watched the whole thing with growing dread.
“I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “I didn’t mean to...you shouldn’t have to clean up after me.” His vision was growing cloudy again and he angrily swiped the back of his uninjured hand across his eyes. Carlos looked up at the sound of his apology and saw him wiping away the evidence of tears. He stopped what he was doing and gazed at TK, expression furrowed in concern. Slowly he placed down the bottle he was about to return to the cabinet and crossed back over to TK, kneeling down in front of him again so they were almost at eye level.
“I’m not going to bother asking you if you’re okay again because the answer to that seems pretty clear,” he said, voice low and even, “so why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
When TK didn’t answer Carlos reached out a gentle hand to brush a tear off of his face. “ It’s okay to cry ,” he said gently, “but I’d like to help you, if I can.”
“It’s stupid,” TK choked out.
Carlos shrugged, “Most things are. But if it matters enough to you to make you feel this way, then I want to know about it anyways.”
TK started at him. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before TK broke the eye contact and shrugged, “It’s nothing really.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“It’s just...I spent all day feeling like an ass at work who everybody only tolerates because they have to and then I get here and immediately fuck everything up again. I’m just waiting to see how long it will be before you realize that I am a lost cause. And as much as I would hate that, you would be right to do it. You should just do it and get it over with.”
There was silence for several minutes before Carlos whispered, “Ty…”
TK shook his head and looked back down at his bandaged hand, “I’m a fuck up Carlos and we both know it.”
Carlos’s hand entered his field of view as he gently took TK’s wrapped hand in his, running his thumb gently over the overlapping bandages. “You are not a fuck up Tyler Kennedy,” he said firmly. “You may be a disaster in the kitchen, but you are not a fuck up. You are a wonderful person with a big heart and a team that loves you like family. You are a good son and have a father that loves you more than anything else in this world. You are my kind, funny, incredibly handsome boyfriend who I love more than I have ever loved anyone before. You are a good person TK, and I love everything about you; even the fact that you are a disaster in the kitchen. It’s a part of you, and I love all of you. And I will remind you of that as often as I need to, as many times as I need to before you start believing it.”
There was silence again as Carlos let his words sink in. He continued to run his thumb across the bandages, giving TK the time he needed to process. He was just about to prompt him again, make sure he was still coherent when TK’s voice interrupted the silence:
“You are too good to be true Carlos, you know that?”
Carlos chuckled wryly, “And here I was thinking it was the other way around. I guess we both got lucky then, huh?”
“Yeah,” TK said softly, looking up to meet Carlos’s gaze again, “I guess we did.”
As he spoke he shifted his hand in Carlos’s grasp so that he could grip his as well. He squeezed it gently, all the while holding his gaze. He let a smile spread across his face and received one in return.
When Carlos leaned forward he met him in the middle, sharing in a kiss that was soft and sweet, full of so many things that just couldn’t be said.
Yes, TK thought to himself even as they pulled away just enough to breathe in each other’s air, he was lucky. This man deserved the world and instead, he wanted TK. TK was glad to let Carlos have him - all of him, for as long as he wanted.