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TK winces as he drops down from the rig, practically every muscle in his body screaming in protest as he grabs his bag and shuffles through the bay.
"I'm gonna sleep for a week," Marjan says, and he huffs in agreement and bumps his shoulder against hers. She must notice the way his gaze catches on his dad, who limps a little as he heads for his office, as she quickly brings him back down to earth with a squeeze to his forearm. "Hey, he'll be okay. Captain Vega said so herself. We all just need some rest."
"Yeah, I know," TK sighs, frowning when he runs a hand down his face and feels the layers of grime from the grunt work that went on for days. "Ugh. Is it selfish of me to never want to deal with a wildfire ever again?"
Marjan snorts, rummaging through her locker for a change of clothes. "I think we're all feeling the same thing."
He beelines for the shower after a couple of minutes of playfully teasing Marjan about the seemingly endless string of notifications popping up on her screen, grabbing his belongings before staking claim on the stall that has the best water pressure. Once under the blissfully hot stream, he thinks it'll be impossible to ever want to leave—he washes his hair three times and scrubs down his body until his skin is pink, his jaw clenching when soap irritates some of the scrapes he's accumulated over the past week. His bad shoulder aches, but it's something he's willing to suffer through as he goes through the motions, eyes squeezed shut as he rids his body of the smoke and dirt and sweat that's been clinging to his skin for too long, now.
But once his fingers start to prune, he gets dressed in a pair of comfortable joggers and one of the crewneck sweaters he'd found buried in Carlos' closet a few weeks ago, immediately feeling wracked with longing. It's been a while since they've gone so long without seeing each other, and the brief Facetime calls and occasional reassuring texts did nothing to soothe the absence he's felt over the past week.
With a sigh, he heaves himself off the bench and strolls out of the bathroom, rubbing at his shoulder. He's still getting used to the haunting grief that seems to linger throughout the firehouse. There's a memorial up for Tim, a few photographs strung up in the ambulance bay accompanied by some flowers. We missed his funeral, he thinks, gnawing at his cheek as he passes the formal portrait of the man he'd only just been getting to know. He thinks of what else they could've lost, his father's barely conscious body slumped against the wall of the mine shaft now permanently burned into his eyelids, and tries to ignore the heaviness settling in his chest.
Thankfully, though, his team's there to once again drag him out of his thoughts.
It's Judd's voice this time, practically bouncing off the walls as he yells: "Hey, pretty boy!"
TK rolls his eyes, hiking the strap of his bag higher up on his good shoulder, making his way back to the bay. And he stops dead in his tracks, his gaze immediately landing on Carlos, like a fucking beacon of light guiding him home.
"Carlos?" He stupidly asks, as if his brain can't quite accept that he's really here.
His boyfriend's already moving toward him, flashing him a smile that's as beautiful as always. "Hey, Ty."
TK very elegantly drops his bag and jogs forward the last few steps, all but pummelling into his boyfriend as he latches his arms around his shoulders. Carlos pulls him tight against him, strong arms secure around his middle, and TK closes his eyes in relief when he feels boyfriend press a kiss to his neck, both of them staggering with the force of the hug. TK pulls back the slightest bit, surging forward to kiss Carlos—it's chaste, of course, but it sends a comfort right through TK's whole body.
"I heard about your dad, I—" Carlos shakes his head the tiniest bit, gently swiping his thumbs over TK's cheeks. "Are you okay?"
TK watches as Carlos drags his eyes down his body, probably looking for any signs of injury. He remembers the last time Carlos heard through the grapevine of someone in their house getting injured, and it makes him just—just want to prove to his boyfriend that he's okay. So, TK just nods and kisses him once more, because he can, because it's all he can think about, pouring all the love and reassurance into it as he can.
"Surprisingly, I'm fine," TK says, fingers twisting into Carlos' shirt near his ribs, knowing his boyfriend's probably been thinking about his usual antics. He meets Carlos' shining eyes, and drops his voice even lower. "I swear. I'm okay. Just had a long week."
"I can imagine," Carlos murmurs, hand dropped down to TK's nape, now, keeping the contact between them constant and grounding.
"Hey, let me get in there, lover boy," Paul says, strolling up to them so he can greet Carlos. The others start piling in too, and TK barely bites back a smile at how much his friends—his family—loves his boyfriend. He spots Grace, tucked under Judd's arm near the open bay door, the two of them lost in their own little world.
It goes on like that for a few minutes: recounting stories, sharing their plans for their mandated several days off, pulling each other into hugs because it just feels right to know deep down that they're all truly okay. TK spends a good chunk of that time pressed close to his boyfriend, gulping down the clear, fresh air that he didn't realize how much he missed. Eventually everyone starts dispersing to their vehicles, and TK catches his dad's eye from where he's lingering on the passenger side of his mom's rental car, the question clear of day written in his dad's lifted brow, in his mom's expression that he can just barely make out through the windshield: are you coming home?
TK shakes his head, offering them a soft smile and a pointed head-nod in the direction of Carlos, who's finishing up his goodbyes with Judd and Grace.
He knows though, deep down, that he is going home. Just not to the one he shares with his parents.
"Ignore the mess," Carlos says, the moment he closes the door behind them.
TK cocks a brow at his boyfriend, his voice dry as he mutters, "babe."
Carlos' idea of mess is the book left face-down on the coffee table and the throw blanket strewn across the couch and a mug left on the kitchen island, but it's so adorably like his boyfriend that TK just huffs a quiet laugh when Carlos shrugs and pulls him close.
"I'm just happy to be here," TK admits, comforted by the familiar weight of his boyfriend's arms around him.
Carlos hums into his hair, planting a kiss to the top of his head. "Me too."
They quietly make their way up the stairs, and TK slowly allows his exhaustion to take over now he's somewhere he can just be. He's dragging his feet by the time they get to Carlos' bedroom, the moonlight spilling in through the glass door to the balcony, and TK's eyes slide shut when he feels Carlos' hands on his shoulders. His boyfriend massages them for a couple minutes, easing some of the tension from his muscles, and he leans into it.
Carlos drops another kiss to his hair, and smooths his hands down TK's arms.
"Come on, you must be exhausted," Carlos murmurs, and TK thinks that might be the understatement of the century. His eyes feel heavy as he moves on instinct to his side of the bed.
He doesn't remember when it happened—after night twenty or thirty of staying over, maybe—but he's been referring to the left side of Carlos' bed as his side for too long for it not to be a reality. TK drops down onto the mattress and groans a little as he flops back onto his pillow, watching appreciatively as Carlos changes into his bedclothes. Once his boyfriend joins him, he immediately moves in close to his boyfriend, who wraps him up in his arms.
"I couldn't watch the news, you know," Carlos whispers, slowly dragging a hand up and down TK's spine.
"Too faint of heart?" TK jokes, though he burrows in closer, face smushed in the space between Carlos' neck and shoulder.
"Oh yeah, you know me," Carlos replies, and TK snorts. A moment passes before Carlos continues, his voice a little quieter. "No, I just...couldn't let myself dwell on it. I couldn't let myself watch, and imagine you in every possible dangerous scenario."
"I'll have you know that most of my time was spent with a shovel," TK says, suddenly overwhelmed at the thought of Carlos spending all his time worrying about him. "But I'm—I'm okay. I would tell you if I wasn't."
There's a beat, before he adds:
"There's nothing that could stop me from coming back. From coming home."
He looks up when Carlos doesn't say anything, wondering if he's overstepped somehow.
"What?" TK asks, taking in the fond smile that's pulling at the corner of his boyfriend's mouth, his eyes crinkled in the corners.
"It's just..." Carlos trails off for a moment, eyes roaming over TK's face. TK pokes him in the ribs and Carlos playfully swats his hand away, before grabbing it to link their fingers together. "You always say home whenever you talk about coming here."
TK feels his mouth fall open a little, before he roughly clears his throat. He can feel heat creeping up his neck, his tiredness momentarily slipping away.
"I, um," TK ducks his head a little, unsure of what to say.
Carlos tilts his head up with a finger under his chin, his eyes sincere. "I didn't say I didn't like it. I want you to feel at home here, with me."
TK bites on the inside of his cheek. "You're cute, you know."
Shaking his head, Carlos moves in close to kiss him properly. TK smiles into it, content to stay here forever.
"I do, by the way," TK whispers, their noses brushing as they part to breathe. "Feel at home with you."
Carlos smiles softly at him, kissing him once more. "Me too."
TK presses their foreheads together, unable to stop a smile of his own. It's quickly ruined when he can't fight back a yawn, and he drops his head to Carlos' chest as his boyfriend huffs a laugh.
"Go to sleep, baby," Carlos whispers, securing his arms around him once more.
TK hums, drifting off to sleep with a feeling of home he's never experienced before warming him from the inside out.