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The Christmas party at the precinct is bursting with music and eggnog when TK needs to go to the bathroom. He’s been here for about an hour and a half, chattering around with Carlosʼ chief and supporting his father as part of the representation for the Fire Department, and maybe heʼs drunk one too many sparkling water bottles because he needs the loo urgently. He squeezes Carlosʼ arm to warn him, and he veers towards the back door leading to the restrooms.
There’s a group of people blocking the exit. TK walks around them only to run into someone — a woman who's a bit under the weather — knocking her off. He profusely apologizes. The woman clutches his arms for balance and practically flings herself against him. TK has to resist the urge to flinch back.
“Pretty boy,” she purrs into his ear, gripping his arms tighter. “Have you seen where we are?”
TK sighs. He doesn’t want to say anything — heʼs pretty sure she’s too drunk to be making any sense — when she points up at the ceiling. He looks up, against his better judgment, and he sees a mistletoe branch hanging off one of the decorations. It’s high enough for him to not be able to reach it and yet he can see it clearly.
Whoever put it up is either a sadist or a genius.
“Now we need to kiss-kiss,” the woman slurs a bit around the words, making pouting gestures.
“Iʼm sorry, maʼam,” he begins. “I can't—”
“Itʼs bad luck not to kiss!” she cries out, leaning in on the tip of her toes. TK manages to turn his face just in time, so her lips connect with his cheek instead of his mouth. “Hey!” she complains, but TK is already pushing her off as gently as he can and sprinting towards the bathroom.
He doesn’t have any recollection of even entering the bathroom — his mind vaguely registers his hands opening the door to the stall and locking it from the inside, and maybe if he focuses hard enough he can remember relieving himself — so he doesn’t even know exactly how on Earth he’s stumbling outside of the stall, such is his anxiety state.
It's not until heʼs standing in front of the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror, that he allows himself to let out a whistling sound. He grimaces, jumping slightly when the door opens, but he relaxes immediately when he sees it's Carlos stepping inside.
“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” he confesses when Carlos approaches him. “Iʼve lost count of the number of women that I have been stuck with under the mistletoe. It’s like they're springing out of nowhere!”
Carlos offers him a small smile, the hand already on the small of TKʼs back a comforting warm weight grounding him. “It’s the same for me, Ty. Iʼm sorry. Maybe we should just straight out refuse to kiss them or engage in the tradition.”
“Itʼs not your fault, Carlos. There are so many women here, and this is your workplace and your boss! I can't cause a scene because I can't kiss a woman under the mistletoe.”
“Itʼs not making a scene. It’s putting yourself first. You're not comfortable with this tradition, and I understand that. I am not either,” Carlos tells him in a soothing voice.
“I can't play mistlefoe with them anyway,” TK mumbles. “My father would kill me. You don't know the speech he gave me right before coming here, about how this is a chance for you, and for him, and for everyone who's different in Austin. I bet he knew I would crumble.”
“Wait, what is mistlefoe?”
TK looks down at his hands at both sides of the sink, allowing the feeling of being perched on top of the porcelain and touched by Carlos to wash over him. “It’s a silly game we played when I was a child,” he explains. “I used to go to tons of these parties with my parents. They were good for my dad, so we tagged along like the perfect little family we weren't.” TK laughs mirthlessly before continuing. “Anyway, I didn't like standing underneath the mistletoe because I didn't like kissing strangers, and all these girls were around trying to get me alone under the damned thing. My dad told me that I could choose whether to kiss or fight whoever was with me under the mistletoe, that it was tradition. I believed him.”
“I take it you caused some havoc that year?”
“I didn't know!” TK cries out, lifting his hands. “The girls definitely stopped coming when I started to fight them. I wish I could do the same here.”
Carlos shakes his head. “I know you weren't comfortable when I saw you with that woman,” he whispers. “I should have gone rescue you.”
“Iʼm not a damsel in distress. But I appreciate it, Carlos. I didn’t even know that I had a problem with it until—”
“Until it was the umpteenth woman asking to be kissed underneath the mistletoe at my jobʼs Christmas party,” Carlos finishes his sentence for him when TK trails off, trying to make sense of his own feelings. “No need to make up any excuses. You feel what you feel. Besides, I am tired. Maybe we can leave early?”
TK gasps in a mock offense. “What am I hearing? Officer Carlos Reyes suggesting we skip an official party?”
They both burst out in a fit of laughter that leaves them panting for breath. It’s an exhilarating feeling, TK finds out, to be able to share so much with someone without actually saying many words. With just one glance, they both understand each other — and that's more important to TK than anything else.
“Hey, Carlos,” he mutters, leaning into his boyfriend.
“Yeah, TK?”
“I wish there was mistletoe here.”
“Oh, do you now?” Carlos retaliates with an amused voice. “What would you do if there was mistletoe here?”
“I would do this,” TK informs Carlos, pecking his lips softly. “Only a bit more intense.”
“Then it's a good thing I brought a branch with me,” Carlos says mischievously, taking out some mistletoe from the pocket of his jacket and placing it over their heads. He pouts. “Kiss me?”
“As if you need to ask.”
When they get out of the bathroom a while later — a little more disheveled than when they entered, a little more flustered, and a lot happier — it surprises exactly no one that they announce they're heading back home because they're exhausted. His father looks down at them with a knowing gleam in his eyes, and Carlosʼ boss simply pats Carlosʼ shoulder and instructs him to take care of himself and TK.
Upon entering the Uber theyʼve booked through the app — since Carlos hadn't wanted to drive after the party in case he drank some alcohol — they notice at the same time that there is some fake mistletoe taped to the ceiling of the car. Laughing heartily, they lean in at the same time and share a sweet kiss that's just a promise of what's to come.