Chapter Text
TK adjusts his grip on the steering wheel for the umpteenth time. He glances at his phone then back at the road signs. There are dark clouds gathering ahead- yes, the irony is not lost on him. His phone is at 14% and he’s pretty sure his charger is lying abandoned in a Denny’s somewhere.
“Your destination is on your right.”
“What the-“ He makes a sharp turn onto a dirt road, the whole car shaking and rocking violently. “That’s a road?” he mutters to himself.
He keeps his hands tightly in the wheel as he navigates the dirt road.
“Oh, I’m gonna die out here…”
He looks around the fields that surround him. There’s a section of trees ahead that could be hiding the house.
“What am I even doing?” He says to no one, trying to stay on the dusty path. “This is desperate and crazy and he’s not going to listen because he’s stubborn and-“
TK’s never actually been to the ranch but he hopes to god that he can find his husband here. His eyes drift to the manilla envelope on the passenger seat for a moment and he can feel the panic starting to rise in him.
He wishes he could say he knows what he’s doing, that getting to the ranch was step one in a detailed plan. But if he’s being honest- and he’s trying to be honest- he never plans anything. That's probably why he should have thought this through a little better instead of coming up with this an hour before he pulled up to his estranged husband’s childhood home.
That was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place, wasn’t it? His split-second decisions and lack of planning and talking before he actually thought about it.
He takes a breath and shakes his head. The house finally comes into view and TK smiles at the Camaro parked in front of it.
“At least one of us is predictable,” he jokes. He pulls in next to the car and takes a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”
With the folder in hand, he climbs out, closing the door harder than he’d intended.
“There goes my element of surprise.”
He’s proven wrong a moment later by the sound of a drill a moment later. Wait. If there’s one thing he knows after two years, it’s that Carlos and power tools do not mix. Tk raises a cautious fist and knocks on the front door. The drilling stops.
“Carlos,” TK calls.
Nothing.
“I know you’re in there. Please, just open the door.”
He’s met with more silence.
“Look, either you’re my husband- the cop with a weirdly cute attachment to his classic car and who doesn’t understand video games and who needs at least one cup of coffee a day to function- or you stole his car and didn’t change the plate, like an idiot. Either way, there are a ton of mosquitoes out here and I’d love to come in. So, please, open the door.”
There’s a pause. Then Carlos is looking out at him through the screen door and TK can’t help but smile.
“I’m only letting you in so you don’t get eaten alive,” Carlos says, turning away. TK’s stomach twists; he opens the door and steps in, following him into the kitchen.
“Are you saying I won’t get eaten alive inside?” Carlos throws him a look over his shoulder. “Okay, not in a joking mood.”
“What do you want, J- Tyler?” Carlos spits the name out like a poison and the distant thunder adds an odd effect. “How did you know I’d be here? I never gave you the address to this place, how’d you find it?”
“Did I hear a drill when I knocked?”
Carlos shrugs and gestures vaguely toward the hall. “Just fixing a couple of things.”
TK frowns. “Your dad hates when people touch his tools.”
“It’s… It’s a surprise.”
“They don’t know that you’re renovating their house?”
“We’re getting off-topic,” Carlos huffs. “What are you even doing here?”
“I came here to ask you to do something.” He held out the envelope.
“You what?”
“I think that this can help,” he tries.
“You have no right-“
“Just, open the package.”
“Do you even know what you did?” Carlos snaps, moving away from him. “Or did you just lie to yourself so much that you conveniently forgot?”
TK rolls his eyes. “Well, if I recall,” he says pointedly. “When we first met, I lied to you about my name and I continued to use the fake name while we dated. And then as we got married.”
“It’s not about the name! You think I care that you gave me a fake name?”
“Yes!”
Carlos pauses for a moment. “Well… yeah, you’re right; it’s a little bit about the name. But it’s mostly about the fact that I asked you- point blank- and you lied to me about it. That doesn’t just make you someone who lied. That makes you a liar.”
“I know, I know,” he says. “Everything we need to fix our marriage is in this envelope.”
Carlos looks at the outstretched envelope for a moment before taking it.
“You’re going to want to shake it out…”
Carlos pulls out a book of matches and a stack of papers- the word experimental catches his eye. He shakes the envelope and something small and metal falls into his hand.
“Is that my wedding band?” Carlos asks incredulously, eyes trained on the ring in his palm.
“You mean the one you left on the kitchen table because you’re a drama queen?” TK says, trying for a joke that obviously doesn’t land. “Yeah, it is.”
Carlos just looks up at him then places the ring and papers on the table.
“Matches, a science experiment, and my wedding ring?”
TK reaches forward and flips the paper over so he can see the title of the experiment.
Carlos eyes him suspiciously. “The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness,” He reads, before realization sets in. “Oh, I get it. The thirty-six questions.”
“The thirty-six questions,” TK repeats, sounding a little too proud of himself.
“It’s a nice gesture.” Carlos shakes his head, dropping the packet onto the table. “We fell in love the first time we did them, why wouldn’t they work a second time?”
The sarcasm is like a punch in the gut and his smile fades. “Okay, well, the gesture’s not over yet. Which is why I have these.” He pulls out a small folder of papers.
“What are those?”
“I thought that this might be hard for you,” he says simply. “Cause I know you, Carlos. So I want your help in burning these.”
“I’m not-“
“No, just-” TK puts his hand up. “It’s like burning all of your ex’s stuff when they break up with you; it’s therapeutic.”
Carlos reluctantly took the folder, flipping through the contents. “What is all this?”
“Those-” he gestures to the folder “-are all of the papers I had to forge to become Jase Connelly.”
“At the moment, I’m going to ignore the illegality of it all,” Carlos says. TK swears there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
“You’re not going to arrest me for identity theft or something?”
Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Not yet.”
He eases a little at the spark that flashed behind his husband’s eyes- a flash that always appears when they tease each other. He looks at the matches in his hand.
“Anyway, yeah, that sounds like a fantastic idea.” Then- after looking at TK for a moment- Carlos lets out a laugh. “You’re serious? No, Tyler-”
“Carlos-”
“It’s about to rain and we are not starting a fire in my parent’s house.”
“Why not?”
Carlos makes a face- smiling for just a moment. “You are a firefighter, think that through- or you were a firefighter unless you lied about that too.”
“I didn’t- It’ll be good for us!”
“ For us? ” TK shrinks back a little. “There is no us anymore. I thought I made that clear.”
“You mean when you ran away without a word?” He snaps. “I was hoping we could- you know- have a conversation.”
“You don’t want to have a conversation,” Carlos says, tossing the matches onto the table. “You want me to torch your Sam’s Club card.”
“I want you to burn my documents for us .” Carlos starts to say something, “No, I know, there’s no us. But we do this and you never have to hear from me again. If... that’s what you want.”
He grabs a metal trash can from off to the side and puts it on the table.
“Tyler-“
“You can just call me TK.”
“Well, I thought I could call you Jase, so…” Carlos pauses for a moment, eyes trained on the ring on the table. “ Tyler, I can’t do this anymore. I’m not burning your stuff, I’m not...”
TK felt his panic and desperation rising. “I-I will even light the match; you just… Just drop it in. We burn it, and-and Jase Connelly burns with it.”
“Then what?”
He lights a match and holds it out to him. Carlos looks at him incredulously.
“Then we do the 36 questions.”
“I don't have 36 questions. I have one question: why did you lie to me?”
“That question has a million answers. You’re asking why I made a split-second decision in the heat of the moment when I met you?”
Neither of them moves until the match burns close to TK’s fingers. He waves it out and lights another.
“Are you going to keep doing that?”
“Until you take it?” Tk asks, nodding. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Carlos turns and runs his hands through his hair. He grabs the book of matches and lights a new match, dropping it into the trash can in one smooth motion.
TK watches as the papers burn and it’s as if, for the first time in two weeks- maybe even two years- like he can breathe. But then the thought of what he might have to do next squeezes around his chest. They watch it burn for a few minutes before it finally flickers out. Carlos takes the trashcan and opens a window.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want the place smelling like smoke when my parents get back.”
“And...And when is that?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
TK watches as he dumps the remains of the papers out the window.
“It’s done,” Carlos says, almost to himself.
“How do you feel?”
There’s a long silence before Carlos says “a little sad.” Then he scrubs a hand over his face. “And stupid.”
“Me too-“
“God, of course, I would do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just made it impossible for you to leave!” TK raises an eyebrow. “You have no identifying documents to check into a hotel or even to drive away.”
Tk opens his mouth to say something, hesitates, then shrugs. “I- um, I have my passport?”
Carlos shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “You have it with you?”
“It’s in the car,” TK says. “Do you want to see it?”
He looks at him, a weird look in his eye. “What’s the name on it?”
“My legal name.” Carlos stiffens a little. “Tyler Strand.”
He’s quiet for a long time. “I guess...it’d be nice to see something of yours .”
“Alright,” TK says quietly, starting toward the door. When he doesn’t hear Carlos behind him, he throws a glance over his shoulder. “You coming?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” He catches up with him, mumbling something under his breath.
“What was that?” TK asks, pushing the door open again and already swatting away mosquitos.
“I just-” TK doesn’t catch the rest of the statement. The thunder cracks overhead, getting closer by the moment. “Damn it, it’s raining.”
“It’s just going to get worse,” TK mutters. He felt Carlos’s eyes on him but he didn’t acknowledge him at all.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Carlos starts, “I shouldn’t be entertaining this, I know that and-”
“Why not?” TK asks, frowning as he pulls the passenger door of his car open and rummages through the glove box for a moment.
“Because… Because it’s pointless and it’ll end in a fight and…” He shrugs once again and watches him. “I shouldn’t be doing this. It won’t fix anything.”
“Why is it pointless?”
Carlos looks at him like he’s missing the obvious, then huffs. “Because- okay, so I see something with your name and picture on it. And then what?”
“And then,” TK starts thoughtfully. “And then we meet and we do the questions.”
“Like a couple of strangers?” Carlos scoffs. “I’m just supposed to pretend you didn’t lie to me for two years?”
“We don’t pretend anything.”
TK hesitates a moment and tightens his grip on the passport. He takes a breath and turns with it outstretched.
“We do the questions and you see that the only thing I really lied to you about was my name.”
Carlos looks at it, then up at him. Hesitantly, he takes it and opens it, reading the words carefully.
“Tyler Kennedy Strand,” he reads aloud.
“Yup,” he mumbles.
“I like TK better.”
TK looks up at him and smiles. “Yeah, me too.”
“This says you got this in New York,” Carlos points out. “Are you from New York? Are you secretly a Broadway nerd and you just never told me?”
“Okay, just-” TK laughs. “Okay, okay, let’s just stay on task.”
“What do you mean?” He hands the passport back to TK, who tucks it into his pocket.
“Carlos Reyes, answer me honestly.” He raised an eyebrow. “Given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?”
Carlos lets out a hollow laugh and backs away. “No, don’t- I know what you're doing. You’re trying to trick me!”
“I just asked you a question,” he defends innocently.
“No,” Carlos snaps. “You asked me the question. The first question of 36-”
“Oh, come on,” he pleads. “Just you and whoever you want. Dinner. Who would it be?”
“Forget it. I’m not answering.”
“You know by dodging it, you’re basically answering the question,” TK says with a playful smirk.
Carlos rolls his eyes. “Divinci.”
TK lets out a laugh. “Wrong! Who would it be, Carlos?”
Carlos opens his mouth but stops. He turns away and starts toward the house. TK is about to call him out for walking away- again- but Carlos turns on him, a scared and angry look in his eye.
“I would have dinner with you,” Carlos snaps. “You happy? Given the opportunity of anyone in the world - a world full of people who haven’t hurt me the way you have... I’d have dinner with the one person who lied to my face. Over and over again.”
TK looks down at his shoes in the mud as the rain starts to fall harder.
“Out of all my family, my idols, my favorite actors or actresses-“ Carlos says it like he doesn’t believe it himself, “- I’d have dinner with the person I thought I knew. So that I can ask him how the hell he managed to keep everything straight. Because then maybe- just maybe - I could ask you to leave and finally be content.”
TK meets his eyes, definitely trying hard to ignore the way the rain runs down Carlos’s cheeks- he hopes those are - or the way his wet clothes hang on his body or-
“Aren’t you going to ask me?”
Carlos rolls his eyes. “I bet I can guess,” he says sarcastically.
“And I bet you’d be right,” TK offers. “It’s you, Carlos.”
“Right,” he mumbles. Thunder rumbles overhead and he tilts his head up just a bit- TK tries, but he can’t read the expression on his face. “We should go inside before it gets worse.”
“So you’ll keep doing the questions?”
Carlos doesn’t respond, simply grabs TK’s wrist and drags him toward the house- sending not-so-simple shockwaves through TK’s arm. The rain comes down harder and the thunder rolls overhead.
“Come on,” Carlos says, laughing a little. “I’m not dragging you the whole way.”
“I’m coming- wait, my shoe-”
“Come on. ”
They make it into the house just as the rain picks up, beating against the house.
“Oh my god, you’re soaked,” Carlos mumbles.
“You’re soaked,” TK laughs, gesturing to Carlos’s drenched clothes.
There was a flash outside the window and the whole house seemed to shake with the thunder.
“Jesus Christ,” TK mumbles. “Um, can I- Can I borrow a shirt?”
Carlos opens his mouth to say something then frowns. “Was this your plan all along?”
TK scoffs, “you’re right. I did because I can create storms when I want to. Can I borrow a shirt or not?”
Carlos huffs and gestures vaguely toward the stairs. “First door on your left; third drawer down. No snooping.”
TK lifts his hands defensively. “No snooping. Got it.”
He makes his way to the top of the stairs and can’t help but stop to look at the pictures lining the wall. Carlos and his sister; Carlos as his graduation from the Academy; his sister’s graduation; a family photo at the park.
He continues to the room Carlos had given him directions to. Under normal circumstances, he would have tried everything he could to know what his husband was like as a kid. But these are not normal circumstances.
Instead, TK crosses to the dresser, opens the drawer, and smiles. He grabs the t-shirt and changes, leaving his soaking shirt to air dry on the edge of the bathtub.
“Okay,” he starts as he walks through the kitchen doorway. “What do you think?”
Carlos looks up from the list of questions and freezes. “Is that my academy shirt?”
TK nods smugly. “It fits nicely don’t you think?” He makes a noncommittal noise and brushes past him. “Where are you going?”
“To change.”
TK watches Carlos walk the way he’d just come from. After a moment, he sat at the table.
He has no idea how he’s going to answer the questions- he hasn’t really thought that far ahead. He wants to be honest, he owes Carlos that much.
But what if the truth just pushes him further away? What if Carlos doesn’t like who he really is?
What if this was all for nothing?