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Carlos wakes up first the following morning, curled up on his side with TK plastered to his back. He can feel TK’s breath fanning across the nape of his neck, gently ruffling the wayward curls that are no doubt in disarray after the night they’d had.
Oh, yeah. Because they’re engaged now, and the arm slung across his waist belongs to his fiancé.
Carlos turns carefully, until he’s facing TK and can admire him in early morning sunshine. It spills in through the windows and pools in the centre of the mattress, touching TK’s edges and turning him golden. His face is relaxed and unfettered in sleep, lips still red and a touch swollen from all of the celebratory kisses they’d shared in the aftermath of his proposal. There’s a purpling bite at the hollow of his throat that Carlos can’t bring himself to regret, despite the teasing he knows will ensue when the 126 spot it.
He shuffles forward, sliding a leg between TK’s and leaning in to brush a featherlight kiss across his mouth. When TK doesn’t react, Carlos does it again, applying slightly more pressure this time. It only takes a second before TK is humming and kissing him back, a lazy smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
“Morning, fiancé,” TK murmurs, and Carlos absolutely cannot believe how lucky he is. He’s here, in the loft he shares with the man he loves, and they’re going to get married one day. There will come a day when he can legally call Tyler Kennedy Strand his fucking husband. For now, though, fiancé is more than adequate; Carlos can’t wait to annoy everyone by constantly referring to TK as his fiancé every single second of every single day. It’s what they deserve, especially given the turbulent journey they’ve taken to get to this point.
“Mmm, fiancé.” Carlos hums, slowly licking his way into TK’s mouth. “I love the sound of that.”
“You and me both.” TK grins, hooking a leg around Carlos’s and pulling until he’s on his back with Carlos hovering over him. “Thank you for saying yes.”
“That, Tyler Kennedy, was never in doubt,” Carlos says, leaning on his elbows and pressing kisses all over TK’s face. TK is laughing, and then he’s whining and straining to capture Carlos’s mouth, reeling him into another wholly intoxicating kiss. Carlos goes easily, bearing down on TK but taking care not to crush him. After a moment he pulls away slightly, just enough to trail a blazing line of wet kisses down TK’s neck, laving over the bite at the base of his throat. TK moans and tips his head back, digging his nails into Carlos’s shoulders. He manages a breathy, strung-out utterance of Carlos’s name, and Carlos grins before moving back up to swallow every other sound TK makes.
Later, TK is propped up against the headboard with Carlos between his legs, back to chest while they play with each others’ fingers. Carlos can’t help but wonder how their hands will look once they’re wearing matching rings that’ll flash in the sunlight and feel smooth against their palms. He knows TK is thinking the same, what with the way he keeps rubbing his thumb over the bare skin on Carlos’s ring finger.
“We should tell the team, shouldn’t we,” TK says after a while, and it sounds more like a statement than a question.
“We can invite them over later, if you want. I can run to the store, get some stuff for a nice spread.” Carlos suggests, shifting slightly so that he can look up at TK, head pillowed on his fiancé’s stomach.
“Why not go together?” TK says, grinning lazily and leaning down to kiss Carlos again. “After a shower, though.”
Carlos hums in agreement, freeing one hand and carding it through TK’s hair. It’s still damp with sweat, and sticks up once his fingers have run through it. It should be disgusting, but Carlos is so head over heels for TK that he doesn’t give a shit. He gives TK another long, thorough kiss before managing to extricate himself from his fiancé’s grip, heading through to the bathroom to flick on the shower. He peeks back through into the bedroom to find TK still lounging on the bed, looking dazed, pleased, and extremely well fucked. Carlos would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a twinge of pride at all three of those expressions.
“Text the group chat,” he calls, checking the temperature of the shower. “Then come join me.”
As he ducks under the warming spray, he hears TK curse and scramble for his phone. There’s the sound of his fingers flying across the keys, then that of his phone being unceremoniously dumped on the bedside table. Then, he’s all but running through to the bathroom, and Carlos can’t help but laugh.
BUTTERCUP PROTECTION SQUAD
TK: okay y'all, catan later???
MATEO: Ummmmm yes me and Nance are gonna kick your asses
MARJAN: as IF??!???
PAUL: You're on. What time, TK?
NANCY: ???????
NANCY: where'd he go
MATEO: YO, TK
MATEO: Bet he's scared
MARJAN: shut up, mateo
TK: sorry!! was busy 😈 noon will be fine!!
NANCY: gross
PAUL: Control your man, Carlos.
CARLOS: 😏
MATEO: Ew I'm not coming anymore
TK: well someone else just did so
Once they’re freshly showered - in tepid water, thanks to TK’s wandering hands - they get dressed to head out to one of the delis dotted around downtown Austin. They’re in sweats and hoodies for now, the plan being to get dressed properly later when the gang come round. TK is rifling through the fridge while Carlos pulls on his shoes, and he grins to himself as he leans against the wall by the door.
“Ty,” he calls, and TK straightens up and turns towards him immediately. “C’mon, fiancé. I’ll buy you breakfast when we’re out.”
TK smiles softly, closing the fridge and bounding across the kitchen. He all but throws himself at Carlos, burying his face in his fiancé’s neck.
“I am never going to get tired of hearing that,” TK murmurs, pressing his lips against Carlos’s pulse.
“Oh no, you will,” Carlos says, running a hand down TK’s spine. “But that’s okay, because we’ll be ready to swap it for husband by then.”
TK groans, smile growing against Carlos’s skin. He tucks his hands into the pocket at the front of Carlos’s hoodie, leaning back slightly and eyeing him from beneath dark lashes. “Do we have to go out?”
“Unless you want to celebrate our engagement with scraps from the fridge, yes,” Carlos chides gently, taking TK’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and leaning in for a kiss. “C’mon, we won’t be long.”
Their favourite deli is close enough that they don’t need to take the car; they walk there with their hands linked and swinging merrily between them. There’s already a line out the door by the time they reach the deli - a tiny, family-owned place called Silva’s - but neither are particularly bothered by the wait. They join the queue, and TK wastes no time in looping his arms around Carlos’s waist and leaning against his chest. Carlos can’t help but smile, and he presses a kiss to the top of TK’s head every so often, breathing in the scent of their shared shampoo.
Once they’re inside, Carlos sets about selecting things for an impromptu charcuterie board: wagyu salami (he’s engaged, he might as well splash out), mini gherkins and pickled onions, crackers, fresh veggies, and a horde of cheese - including tallegio. Carlos is in his element, and TK is content to watch him as he bustles around the deli, the Silva family matriarch - Pepa - in tow. They talk in rapid-fire Spanish as she helps Carlos choose the best produce, loading it all into a little basket for him to take to the till once he’s ready to pay.
TK, meanwhile, is perched on a high stool at the front of the deli, where the seating for the attached coffee shop looks out onto the street. He’s facing inwards, though, watching Carlos move around the deli with an expression that can only be described as lovesick. When Rosa - one of the family, and the coffee shop manager - approaches him with his usual iced latte in hand, she takes one look at him and raises a discerning eyebrow.
“You look sappier than usual,” she says, setting the latte down in front of TK. He grins at her, eyes leaving Carlos for the first time since they’d walked in.
“Oh, you know.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Just admiring my fiancé.”
Rosa squeals, clapping her hands together and pressing them to her mouth. “TK!” She grins, jumping up and down on the spot. “Congratulations! Here, let me get you celebratory pastries - on the house.”
“Rosa, you don’t have to-” TK tries to dissuade her, but Rosa waves him off and hurries back to the counter. When TK looks back at Carlos, his fiancé is already looking at him with the softest, fondest expression. Pepa leans in to whisper something to Carlos and it makes him laugh, face lighting up in a way that makes TK’s heart seize. Carlos winks at TK then, blowing him a kiss before turning back to Pepa and continuing their lap of the deli.
By the time Carlos is finished and has paid for everything - including TK’s latte, and a cappuccino for himself - TK is halfway through a complimentary croissant that Rosa had delivered to him. There’s one for Carlos too, although TK has been unashamedly eyeing it for himself. The pastry is so buttery and flaky, and there’s a sweet pool of almond butter in the centre that TK is savouring. Carlos chuckles at him, sliding onto the stool next to TK and setting his bag on the floor between them.
“Rosa figured you out, huh?” He asks, tearing his own croissant in two and sliding the bigger piece onto TK’s plate. TK leans in to kiss him in thanks before nodding, licking almond butter off his fingers.
“Sure did. Pepa got you, too?”
“Of course. Nothing gets by that woman,” Carlos scoffs, making TK laugh and slump against him. Carlos kisses his temple, winding an arm around TK and supporting his weight as they drink their coffees and polish off their pastries.
They’re walking home again, TK slurping at the dregs of his iced latte, when he realises something.
“Y’know, you kinda got away without buying me breakfast, Reyes,” he says, nudging his way beneath Carlos’s arm. His fiancé’s answering chuckle is short and breathy, accompanied by a shake of his head and a quirk of his mouth. He settles his arm around TK’s shoulders, scratching lightly at his chest.
“I’ll buy you a ring later to make up for it, how about that?”
TK stops then, and Carlos continues a few paces before he’s forced to stop, too. He wheels around, hand moving to cup the back of TK’s neck as they stand toe-to-toe. Carlos looks concerned, and he ducks his head to look into TK’s eyes.
“Babe? You okay?”
“I’m good,” TK says, wiping his eye with the back of his hand. He will not start crying in the middle of the fucking street, he will not. Carlos’s expression softens as he realises what’s got TK so emotional, melting into the tiniest smile. He leans in and kisses TK right there, soft and agonisingly slow, and TK falls into him, clutching at the front of his fiancé’s hoodie to keep himself upright.
“I love you,” Carlos reminds him as he pulls back. “Fiancé.”
TK swallows, trying to regain his composure. He presses his forehead against Carlos’s chest and just breathes through it for a second, steadies himself by the thrum of his fiancé’s heart. Carlos kisses the top of his head and waits, patient as ever.
“I just can’t wait to marry you, baby,” TK whispers, straightening up after a few more stabilising breaths. Carlos smiles at him and kisses his forehead before sliding an arm around TK’s shoulders again and encouraging him onwards.
“Hasn’t quite sunk in yet, huh?” Carlos asks, grinning at TK and tugging him close as they continue on towards home. TK snorts, burying his face in Carlos’s chest.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, as they cross the threshold of their building and bundle into the elevator. One of their downstairs neighbours - a retired nurse, Ellen - is already in there, and she coos at them as they lean against the wall; or, rather, Carlos leans against the wall and TK leans against Carlos.
“You two are just far too sweet,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest. “Young love; it’s precious. You hold tight to that boyfriend of yours now, dear.” She directs the last part to Carlos; TK is her favourite, and though she loves Carlos too, she’s become fiercely protective of him over the last few months.
“Fiancé, actually,” Carlos corrects her gently, dropping a kiss to TK’s temple. “But don’t worry, Ellen. I’ll hold tight regardless.”
Ellen is ecstatic, and gets out on her floor with the promise of having them over for dinner later in the week. She waves as the elevator doors close, expression pulled into a huge, bright grin. TK and Carlos are entering their own apartment a few minutes later, playfully jostling and shoving each other as they spill through the sliding door. They have an hour before their friends arrive, and TK knows that Carlos wants to get started on whatever elaborate spread he has in mind, but he figures they’ve got a bit of time for some kissing before that has to happen. He hops up on the counter as Carlos starts to lay out everything he’d bought at the deli, making grabby hands at his fiancé and grinning when he acquiesces.
“What is it, Tyler Kennedy?” Carlos asks, tone verging on playful. “We don’t have a lot of time before everyone arrives, sweetheart.”
“Mmm, I don’t care,” TK decides, sliding his hands underneath Carlos’s shirt and splaying them across his toned stomach. Carlos sighs, stepping in between TK’s legs and nosing at him until he opens up for a kiss. TK had expected to have to work a bit harder for this, and he grins as he easily strips Carlos’s shirt and hoodie off in one smooth movement. He throws them in the direction of the bedroom, paying no mind when they get caught on the steelwork that separates the kitchen and the dining room. He’s too busy kissing his fiancé (!!!), after all.
In the end, a tub of olives gets squashed when Carlos shoves TK flat on the counter for a very enthusiastic blowjob, but what’s a small sacrifice like that in the grand scheme of things? Their friends arrive shortly after, and the olives are forgotten amidst the haze of celebratory fizz, endless rounds of Catan, and the promise of eternal love.