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It was a well known fact in Station 126 that TK kept a lot of personal details to himself.
Oh, he talked about some things, sure. Things that he didn’t mind if his teammates overhead and discussed, or things that might get to his dad, which would open the door to some questions. Carlos, who was like a steel trap, knew more than all of them combined, including the details of some of TK's less than stellar relationships.
But this was one thing that TK had kept secret for long enough. Nothing dangerous, nothing that would damage his relationship or his career, but something he just hadn’t wanted to talk about yet.
He honestly wasn’t planning on saying anything for a bit longer, because he wasn’t ready yet. Hell, he’d practically forgotten about it, since it had been nearly four years before he was reminded of it. However, it all came out one day when they were trying to move some things around for storage.
“TK, what’s in this one?”
In Carlos’ hands was a simple cardboard box that hadn’t been opened yet. It was still packed from New York and was one of the few things to not be brought over to the condo when TK had first moved in. Once he was in the loft, he quietly had just put it in the back corner of his side of the closet and almost forgotten about it
He paused, looking at the box. He didn’t really have a reason as to why he had never opened it back up after the move. Opening it up would probably be a good thing, he decided. It would remind him of the happier times in New York, long before his addiction, and longer still from his broken relationship.
TK reached over and carefully peeled away the tape. Inside was just a small part of a larger collection of equipment that he’d had, stuff that he’d hidden away from Alex. The box was mostly full of carefully coiled and labeled wires with a bag of cheap flash drives settled in the middle. On top was a beaten up composition notebook, full of scribbles. He set the box down to start flipping through the notebook, just barely remembering some of the ideas he’d jotted down.
Carlos looked at the box, then back at his boyfriend. “Well, that’s less odd than I thought.”
TK gave him an inquisitive glance. “What do you mean, babe?”
His lover reached out and turned the notebook around in his hand. He’d forgotten about the picture tapped to the back of it.
Enzo had taken it one evening when he was still living at his mom’s apartment, right before his first semester of college. He was curled up on his bed, his old guitar still in hand, with his notebook in front of him, playing a song he’d written for his Mom who was sitting just out of frame.
He smiled sadly at the thought. It was a happy moment, one that he would treasure forever.
“So, do you sing or is it just playing?” Carlos’ voice pulled him from his memories. He sounded impressed, flipping through the notebook.
“I sing. Or I did. That’s what’s on those flash drives. I was trying to make it big but I only ever sent out one and never made it through the front door. Probably would have had a better shot posting them online…” He picked up the bag and shook it, looking at all the near identical drives.
Carlos pulled the bag from his finger. “I want to hear one. Pick one and play it?”
TK shrugged. “Sure, if I can find the one I think you’d like best. Might have to plug in a few of these.”
The other man chuckled before getting up to grab his laptop. “Your labeling didn’t go that far? Those cords are neatly labeled,” he pointed out, voice carrying throughout the loft from the living room.
“They were color coded. I don’t remember which one was which!” TK said back, adding some chuckles of his own to make sure Carlos knew he wasn’t being forceful. “Wait…” He picked the notebook back up and quickly started flipping through before finally finding a certain page.
Carlos was just sitting down when TK tossed the bag back over to him. “Play the one with the aqua streak. That one is one of the last ones I wrote.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow but pulled out the specified one. The color had faded from the years, but the line was still present. He popped it into his laptop without hesitation.
The opening riffs filled their walk in closet. TK curled up next to Carlos and let the sounds of his old song wash over him. Carlos settled his arm around TK and shut his eyes, getting lost in the music.
Reorganizing was delayed to their next shared day off, instead spending the afternoon listening to TK’s old catalog, rediscovering old ideas and mentally writing ideas for the future.