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.1.
This was simply a rebound.
Or, that’s what TK told himself as Carlos smiled at him in a too innocent way when he bought him a refill of his coke. That’s all. They’d danced, they were getting non-alcoholic drinks, and TK fully intended to go home with him. Innocent smiles be damned.
They talked and TK flirted, leaning closer and looking him up and down. He was a little rusty, but it wasn’t too bad. He still got Carlos to let out a soft laugh and look to his drink. Good enough.
“So, you’re a firefighter. Got any cool stories?” Carlos eventually asked. And TK did have a ton of cool stories‒ but he was sure none of the usual ones would work. Carlos had his own high-energy job.
“Well, I’ve got this,” TK said, pulling down the collar of his shirt. Carlos’ eyes followed and he would be lying if he said that was pure coincidence. “Saved a cat from a tree, but it didn’t see it as a rescue. Attacked me so bad I’ve still got a scar.”
“Don’t tell me you hate cats now.”
“No,” TK laughed, running his thumb over the slightly raised white line from where the cat’s claw had gone a little too deep. Carlo’s eyes followed. “But I am more of a dog person.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“Do you want it to be?”
Carlos huffed a laugh and TK pulled his collar down a little more, silently urging him to reach out and touch. It took a lot of eye contact before he finally did. His hands were cold and chills raised on his skin. Carlos looked up to lock eyes with him and grinned.
“You wanna get out of here?”
“Absolutely.”
Carlos lived a few blocks away in a little townhouse complex and it was almost too much time to wait as they quickly drove there. The moment he shut his car off, TK reached over to grab his collar and pull him into a kiss over the center console. Carlos grinned and kissed him back with a level of enthusiasm TK had missed. There was one good thing about kissing someone new.
“Let’s go inside,” Carlos breathed, trying to turn his head just a little. TK took his bottom lip between his teeth and followed him.
“We don’t have to.”
“I have an elderly neighbor,” he laughed, “She’ll have some choice words for me.”
“Fine,” TK agreed, still riding the high of this new person as he opened the car door. Carlos snorted and followed, quickly leading the way to his door.
Carlos unlocked it with ease and led them inside and TK barely let him make it through the door. It was easy to chase his own pleasure with a new body, touching and stripping away anything he could. His hand pressed into Carlos’ skin beneath his shirt where it was warm and inviting.
“Off,” TK said, only pulling back enough to remove his own shirt as Carlos did the same.
Carlos had a smile on his face as he grabbed his hips and started walking him back to the couch. They fell onto it in a heap of desperate limbs and Carlos’ fingers grazed over the scar beneath his collarbone.
“You’re so hot,” Carlos told him.
TK’s hand slid over his shoulders and up his neck, sliding into his tightly cropped hair to the best of his ability and pulled him impossibly close.
“I know.”
He made sure to leave as soon as they were done.
.2.
Carlos’ eyes were lit with a fire as he looked up at TK from where he knelt before him.
It was almost too much and TK leaned his head back, taking controlled breaths as Carlos’ calloused hands ran across his bare chest and down to his jeans. He unbuttoned them with all too skilled hands and tugged them down. His hands traced back up his legs and he leaned forward to kiss this thigh, humming softly in a way that drove TK a little insane.
“You’re a tease.”
Carlos made a little noise of protest. “I’m not.”
“Mm, feels like you are.”
He looked down at Carlos just in time to see him roll his eyes. Then he leaned in again, kissing above the waistband of his briefs and touching his thighs. It felt too intimate in a way that had TK’s heart thudding and he was about to tell him to stop or just to get on with it. None of that, this wasn’t that . They weren’t dating, they were fucking, and he couldn’t be romantic about it or he’d start doing something stupid like thinking about moving in and making him a garden in the backyrad.
Before he could find the words, though, Carlos’ eyebrows knitted together and his thumb pressed down onto a spot of TK’s inner thigh. He pulled back to get a better look at it and then looked up to TK with curious eyes.
“Now how the hell did you get a scar that looks like this on this part of your thigh?” he asked. Again, TK was flooded with a bunch of rudes things he could say to make Carlos realize they weren’t a thing. This wasn’t serious, they weren’t bonding. This was a rebound.
“Barbed wire,” TK answered instead, giving him an honest answer despite the fact he really just wanted to get off, “I was a little reckless as a kid, hopped a fence and got caught on the barbed wire that I didn’t realize was on the inside.”
“That sounds like it hurt.”
“It did,” TK breathed, trying not to think about how much blood there’d been when he fell to the ground. That would be an absolute turn off. “My friends ran away because they knew my dad had cop friends and didn’t wanna get in trouble.”
“You had shitty friends,” Carlos scoffed, “No offense.”
“None taken,” TK laughed, “They were shitty. I called my dad anyway and he barely even lectured me, so they didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“I’m sure he would’ve been more angry at them, they weren’t his kid and you’re the one who was hurt,” Carlos said. TK sighed and pushed his shoulder a little, no longer in the mood as his mind was filled with his shitty, lonely childhood. The barbed wire was fine. Him getting hurt nearly every weekend just so his dad would come see him wasn’t.
“Yeah, you clearly don’t know my dad,” he said, “Look, I gotta go.”
“What? Go where? Stay,” Carlos urged, quickly getting to his feet. TK shook his head.
“Nothing against you, just not in the mood. I’ll see you around, though, probably.”
“Wait, I’m sorry if I got too serious or personal,” Carlos said, grabbing his hand to keep him from running off. TK allowed him and didn’t fight it when he stepped closer again. Skin to skin, it was harder to remember why he wanted to leave. “I think it’s hot that you trespassed.”
“A cop who has a thing for rule breaking? I’ll pretend to be shocked,” TK said. An absolutely addictive smile found Carlos’ face as he shoved him playfully. TK’s back hit the wall again and he tugged Carlos with him.
“Don’t be mean,” Carlos whispered in a way that really, really sounded like he was actually asking for him to be mean.
“I’m not mean,” TK said, pushing his knee between Carlos’ thighs and tugged him closer. He didn’t react really, but he tilted his head that seemed to hold a silent little plea for him to keep going. “But you should stop talking.”
Carlos huffed a laugh and nodded, pushing himself up on his toes to box TK in against the wall and he went in for another kiss. He kissed him hard and tried to ignore any inkling of him trying to act like this wasn’t just a hook-up. He wouldn’t answer any more silly questions about his childhood or scars that told a little bit too much about himself.
TK broke the kiss to move to his neck, kissing and biting just a little. His hands trailed over Carlos’ muscular back and hands and up his arms. Then he got to his shoulders and started pushing him down. There were no protests as Carlos laughed and got back onto his knees.
Those fingers that were beginning to feel familiar slid beneath the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down and he finally was able to forget any sort of conversation.
.3.
Carlos liked TK. He liked TK a lot . It was probably a bad thing how much he liked him.
But, still, he let himself fall. It was much more fun than protecting himself. He didn’t know what would be at the bottom of the pit when he eventually had to face the music. Maybe TK would be interested in him the same way. Why else would he spend so much time with him and go to clubs with him and only focus on him?
Yeah, TK had to like him the same way right back. Even when he pushed him away when things got too serious and even when he got annoyed, TK always came back. Whether because he actually wanted to or because he knew Carlos would be there, it didn’t matter. He felt something.
He had to.
Currently, Carlos found himself staring at TK’s sleeping body. They didn’t do sleepovers. The only time they ever saw the sunrise together was when they’d worked the night shift and still found time to fall into bed together. Tonight, though, they’d gone to a bar and had made it back to Carlos’ place before 10PM. They’d hooked up and TK, sober and drained from a long day, had fallen asleep before he found an excuse to escape. Carlos took it as a blessing.
The sheet was draped over him in an obscene way, hiding most of his back from view. The edge of it, though, laid on the curve of his ass and left the side of his hip exposed and his entire right leg was out. It was muscular and tan and gorgeous just like the rest of him. It was almost too much.
Despite the logical part of Carlos’ brain, he reached out to touch. He kept it light and as respectful as he knew how, just needing to feel the warmth of his body for a moment. It wasn’t until his fingers grazed the bare skin of his ass that he felt little raised blemishes on his skin. Curiosity got the better of him and he shifted to look a little better.
Sure enough, there was another scar.
This one looked like a dog bite, little teeth marks decorating his smooth skin. He was curious about how that happened and why he still seemed to like dogs despite it. Then again, TK seemed to be covered in a myriad of scars, most of which Carlos hadn’t had the time to really seek out. One day he wanted to. Once he knew it was allowed to, he would.
The next morning, Carlos woke up first despite going to sleep second and couldn’t help himself as he reached out to touch. (Two nights in a row. They’d shared a bed two nights in a row.) This time, he touched his face and ran his hands through his hair. TK woke up slow and his drowsy eyes slid open before closing again once he saw who was touching him. Carlos definitely filed that into the ‘ he likes me’ folder.
Carlos scooted closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead, just wanting to give him easy affection when he was sleepy and wasn’t eager to push away any sign of having feelings about anything. TK hummed softly in response and Carlos smiled.
“Good morning,” Carlos whispered, rubbing his thumb over TK’s cheekbone.
“Morning,” TK mumbled back, his eyes still closed. Carlos just stoked his hair, trying to decide whether he should ask about the scar or not. He could never gauge what would send off sirens in TK’s head that he was getting too deep.
He decided against asking all together and instead scooted closer, moving to kiss his lips. He could ask him at a later time when he knew what they were and wasn’t scared he would try to flee.
Today he could just wake him up with slow kisses and hope he understood he was a safe place to be.
.4.
“Why is it so cold?”
“I can’t believe you find this cold when you literally grew up in New York.”
“I wouldn’t normally, but yesterday it was almost 95 degrees out and today it’s barely 50. That’s fucking ridiculous,” TK grumbled, pulling on a jacket and zipping it up to his chin. Carlos couldn’t help the smile that found his face as he watched his pouty definitely-not-boyfriend curl up in the passenger seat of his car. He turned the vents towards him.
“Welcome to Texas,” he laughed. TK rolled his eyes.
“It’s only annoying because drastic temperature changes like that hurt my arm,” he admitted. Carlos tried not to feel overjoyed by the freely given information, glancing over at him as he started to back out of the driveway.
“Did you break it before or something?” Carlos asked, doing his best to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah, when I was, like, six,” TK said, shifting a bit as he pulled up his sleeve, “See?”
Carlos glanced over to steal a peek at the zig-zag shaped scar. It was faint now, but it was still there. He wondered how the hell he’d never noticed it before. Then again, the other parts of his arms were rather distracting and, when he flexed, it probably blended in with the veins.
“It’s not too bad, doesn’t affect my job or anything, just fucking annoying,” TK said as he pulled down his sleeve.
“How’d you break it?”
“Tried to climb a street light and got halfway before I fell. Bone broke the skin, it was the worst,” he said. Carlos hissed at the thought, mindlessly reaching over and squeezing his thigh.
“I’m glad you got better at climbing, then.”
“Me too,” TK said, resting his head back, “I’m surprised I haven’t broken more bones than I have, honestly.”
“I’ve broken a few.”
“Yeah? Which ones?”
“Stubbed my toe and broke three bones in my foot,” Carlos said, instantly getting laughter from the man in the passenger seat. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life.
“How the fuck?”
“All I have to defend myself is I played soccer when I was little and I guess I decided to play soccer with an industrial freezer,” he offered. TK laughed louder.
“Holy shit, that sounds like it sucks,” he laughed. It took him a minute before he was able to school himself. “Sorry, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, healed pretty fast actually,” Carlos said, flashing a smile over at him, “I don’t plan to break anymore, though.”
“Me neither,” TK said, but he paused and made a face, “But I wouldn’t, like, be surprised if I broke something new.”
“Okay, well at least try not to break anything.”
“No promises.”
Carlos adored him.
.5.
TK liked the way Carlos breathed.
The moment he had that thought was the moment he knew he was fucked. This wasn’t a rebound, this wasn’t just someone he was fucking, this was someone who’s breathing sounded nice and that was almost too much. Was this too soon? What was too soon, anyway?
“Breathe,” Carlos told him, voice low and commanding and that was a lot to handle too. His hand pressed on TK’s abdomen while his other kept TK’s hands pinned above his head. TK tried to take a breath, but his throat wasn’t really complying.
He ended up pushing his head back and looking up at the ceiling, trying to get a deeper breath in without thinking about Carlos and how he was falling too hard. But that in itself was a feat on its own and it didn’t help that Carlos was in him and telling him to breathe and looking like that.
TK pushed all of his thoughts away, focusing on feeling good and breathing and literally nothing else. Feelings weren’t important. Not now especially.
Things ended sooner than he realized‒and maybe that usually might be a bad sign, but he was thankful for it. TK breathed in and out as well as he could, his mind filling with thoughts like ‘he’s nice, this isn’t bad’ and ‘run, run as fast as you can’. He couldn’t help but remember the last time someone was nice and how that turned out.
Besides, was he mentally ready to handle another round of handling a new relationship? Would he ever be?
There were so many reasons that he shouldn’t be. He was finally trying to be stable on his own. Years of addiction only to recover with a partner in the picture had backfired the moment that ended. He didn’t want to do that again. He wanted to be his own, stable person. He needed to learn how to do too many things that didn’t involve being in a committed relationship where he had to think about someone else’s needs alongside his own.
His dad was sick. He should be focusing on spending time with his dad. Not his relationship status. It was pointless and so fucking superficial.
Carlos’ fingers idly grazed his chest in a way he usually didn’t. But that’s how this was going. They were getting closer, slowly, and Carlos was constantly testing the waters on what intimacy would scare TK away. He should run now.
But, God, it felt good to be close.
“I-Is that a burn?”
“I’m a firefighter, I have burns,” TK said as casually as he could manage despite the fact his head was still reeling. He came off rude, though, and he knew it. Carlos hummed in a noncommittal way as if he was too tired to roll his eyes at his tone of choice.
“What happened?” Carlos asked anyway.
TK lifted his head to see the faint pink line on his stomach that really only stood out when he got really flushed. And, right now, his mind wasn’t exactly allowing him to calm down. He was red and sweaty and it was showing no sign of stopping.
“Don’t make fun of me,” TK said, dropping his head back to the pillow. Carlos made a hurt little noise that had TK wanting to melt. God, why was he doing this?
“When have I ever made fun of you?”
“It’s from my first job. I worked at a pizza place and I almost dropped a pizza right out of the oven. Didn’t even think twice when I went to grab it and the oven door burnt me through my shirt,” TK explained, his finger touching the scar. His skin was hot. Mindlessly, he reached out to touch Carlos to see if his was too.
It was.
“Ouch,” Carlos hissed softly, running his fingers over the scar just as TK had, “Poor thing.”
Carlos moved and pressed kisses to his chest, warm and important and enough to skew the entire world in his favor. Well, it already was in his favor. Now it simply would never not be. At least, TK’s world wouldn’t.
When he laid beside him, TK stared at him and tried not to let it sink in just how fucked he was. But it was impossible because he liked his nose.
He liked his fucking nose.
+1
Carlos tapped his fingers against his thigh as he forced himself to stop looping around the block and park in front of the Strand household.
There was literally no reason for why he was so nervous. He’d been with TK in the hospital and had promised he would come see him when he got home. Well, now he was home. He’d gotten him that morning and Carlos was supposed to be a good not-boyfriend and go see him. For some reason, that was really fucking hard.
He hated seeing him hurt and he wanted to help, but he also didn’t want TK thinking he thought he was helpless. Or, much worse, having TK think he was trying to impose himself. Part of him knew that TK wouldn't take it that way, but the fear was still very real. They weren’t together and he was doing something that really only people who were together did.
But, then again, didn’t he sit beside his hospital bed not even a few days ago?
Eventually, he forced himself to stop worrying so much and bullied himself into walking up to his house and knocking on the door. He wanted to see TK and he wanted to make sure that he was doing alright. He got shot. It really wasn’t the time to be all worried about that stuff.
When he knocked on the door, he fully expected Owen Strand to be the one to open the door with his inviting smile. Instead, it was TK Strand in the flesh. He had sweat beading on his forehead and was gripping the door so tight it looked painful, but he still managed a smile.
“Oh my God, what are you doing up?” Carlos asked, every worry he had before disappearing as he reached for TK. He, shockingly, allowed him to lead him to the couch, laying him down as delicately as humanly possible as he knelt beside him. “Are you trying to bust your stitches?”
“I’m fine, I was cleared to walk,” TK said, “Gotta get my strength up somehow.”
“Just be careful,” Carlos insisted, concern still vibrating through him in droves. TK managed a cocky little smile.
“Are you worried about me?” he asked. Carlos didn’t have it in him to play around. He just combed his fingers through his hair and nodded.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, “I am.”
“Oh.”
Carlos continued to just touch him and stare at him. When he’d found out he’d been shot, his initial thought had been one that was too selfish to say out loud. Just a simple ‘but I’ve barely had him’. It quickly bled into worry and he went to see him, but that thought still stayed in the pit of his stomach. He almost lost him before he ever really had him in the first place. Maybe that’s why he was so nervous. He still wanted his chance.
“I know you’re strong and resilient,” Carlos said carefully, “But I also like when you aren’t bleeding or in pain, so, please, just be careful.”
TK let out a breath and smiled at him. “You’re cute.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”
“Yeah,” TK mused, “And that’s cute of you.”
Carlos really wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the right words. Besides, he couldn’t properly argue with him on a good conscience. Not while he was hurt and clearly trying to act like he was perfectly fine.
“How are you feeling?” Carlos asked instead of anything else. TK closed his eyes and nuzzled into the couch. Carlos wiped his forehead clean of sweat.
“I’m alive, can’t complain.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Kinda funny.”
“TK, you scared the shit out of me,” Carlos told him, “I really, really don’t think it’s funny.”
TK didn’t answer right away, instead choosing to try and become one with the couch cushions that very much welcomed that decision. Carlos sighed and reached behind him to cover him, gently tucking him in.
“I’m not on any painkillers,” TK said, “I said no. So… So if I’m not making sense, that’s why.”
Carlos reached out and ran his fingers through his hair. His hand slid over the side of his neck after that and his thumb eventually landed over that same scar beneath his collar bone.
“You’re making sense, I just don’t like what I’m hearing,” Carlos said honestly. TK opened his eyes just to roll them mockingly.
“Do you wanna see my scar so you know I’m not going to die?”
“I don’t need to,” Carlos said. TK stared at him for a moment before shifting and moving the blanket, lifting his shirt. Carlos tried to look anywhere but that godforsaken spot, but it felt impossible to look away. “TK, you don’t have to‒”
“Look, see, I’m better,” he pointed out, gesturing to the section of his abdomen that was basically all bruising still, “Now stop worrying.”
“I’m not going to stop worrying,” Carlos sighed, “You’re too reckless.”
“I didn’t do anything reckless to get shot, that was totally out of my control,” TK argued. Carlos pressed his lips into a line.
“Yeah, but I know how you are. And, and I know about the whole situation with your dad. So when I ask if you’re doing okay, I don’t just mean physically,” Carlos insisted. TK closed his eyes as if that was going to make the conversation end. And maybe it would. There was no point in talking to someone who was in that much pain. “I just… Seriously, are you okay? That’s a lot of shit to be handling. You don’t have to suffer in silence, you can complain to me.”
“Why are you talking to me like you’re my boyfriend?” TK asked, “You’re not.”
Carlos paused. He knew that. He was very aware of that. It didn’t make it hurt any less to hear it used against him.
“I know I’m not,” Carlos said, “But does that mean I’m not allowed to care about you?”
“You’re too soft.”
“No, I’m not. I just want to make sure you aren’t pushing yourself. I mean, you’re not even taking anything for the pain.”
“And you know why I’m not.”
“Yeah, I do, which is why I’m asking if you’re okay,” Carlos pressed, keeping his voice low and even. He added to it by combing his fingers through TK’s hair again. That would make it easier, maybe. “I know you, TK, whether you like it or not.”
TK stared at him for a moment, a million things going through his eyes at a pace that Carlos couldn’t keep up with. He wasn’t sure if he was about to kick him out or if he was about to insult him or if he was going to apologize. He wasn’t surprised when it was none of the above.
“If you’re so desperate to take care of me, did you at least bring me soup?”
Carlos huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No, but I can make you some.”
“Sounds good.”
“What do you say?”
“I’m hurt and I want soup, preferably served by a shirtless cop,” TK grumbled. Carlos shook his head.
“I was looking for a please .”
“ Please serve me soup while shirtless. Perhaps do a striptease if you’re feeling up to it,” TK suggested. Carlos combed through his hair once more before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He was warm, but it wasn’t too concerning and Carlos managed to pull away to go make some soup.
And, well, by make, it really just meant one of the concoctions already in the refrigerator courtesy of Owen Strand. There were four tupperware containers stacks on top of each other with sticky notes to tell him what temperature to heat them to on the stove. At least it wouldn’t be difficult.
By the time the soup was heated in a bowl, TK was sitting up with a mound of pillows helping him stay comfortable. He looked at Carlos hesitantly and took the bowl.
“I’m okay,” he said softly, “It’s hard, but I’ll be okay. There’s just a lot going on right now and as much as I like you, I need to not think about what we are. Not right now.”
“I wasn’t asking you to make a decision,” Carlos said, “I just want you to know I’m here to listen.”
“What do you want me to say? That I’m scared about losing my dad? That getting shot and avoiding pain medication is excruciating? Because those are all obvious,” TK insisted, still pouty and angry as he took a spoonful to his mouth.
“How about starting with something along the lines of ‘I’m sad’ when you’re sad?” Carlos suggested. TK narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not joking. Simple as that. Next step is asking for what kind of comfort you want. If you’re sad or in pain or worried, I’m here to listen and help. That’s what friends do, don’t they? So if you need a hug or an ear or whatever, I’ll give it.”
TK stared at him for a moment, still trying to gauge if he was serious. And he absolutely was. TK’s problem‒maybe both of their problems, honestly‒was communication. At the end of the day, not all scars were physical.
“I’m not good at doing that,” TK admitted, “And I’m probably even worse at trying to do the same for you.”
“Then we’ll work on it,” Carlos shrugged. TK sighed softly and took another spoonful of soup to his lips. “I just don’t want to be scared that if I act like I care about you that you’ll try to run away.”
“Okay. I won’t,” TK promised.
And it was a start.