Work Text:
It all starts with two pairs of blue socks, wrapped in a pair of neon green socks with black and white soccer balls embroidered into the cotton.
“I need new socks,” TK speaks, his voice faint coming from the bathroom, where he brought today’s outfit. He walks out, holding up a singular sock. “This one’s got a toe hole in it.”
“Toe holes are in, I’ve heard.” Carlos looks up from his phone—he tries to look sophisticated, with his glasses and his gaze focused on the device in front of him, but in all honesty; he’s failing at solving a sudoku—to see TK pull a disgusted face as he throws the sock onto the bed. “I’m kidding.”
“I can’t go to work with holes in my socks.”
“That’s what you wear shoes for, TK.” He turns his phone off and gently throws it onto the mattress, it lands an inch away from the sock. “If it really bothers you, I’ll get you some socks; I’m off work anyway.”
TK’s frown turns to a soft smile, “Thank you, baby; dark blue socks will do.”
Carlos blows an ironic kiss to his boyfriend and waves him off, “Go, and don’t get killed at work, please.”
<3
“What’s this?”
TK takes the pair of socks that Carlos waved in front of his face into his hands, a questioning look dawning upon his face—
“Socks, as you asked.” He drops down onto the couch next to TK, his arm draped over the back of the couch. “You don’t like them? They match the colour of your eyes.”
“They’re neon green, Carlos.” He turns to his boyfriend. “Oh, and they have soccer balls on them.”
“You told me you liked soccer when you were little.”
“I also liked fries, but that doesn’t mean I want a Mcdonald's meal adorned in my socks,” he says, “especially not work socks.”
“I really thought you’d like them.” Carlos grabs the edge of the couch, leans closer to TK and presses a kiss into his cheek. He stands up. “Open the socks.”
“What do you mean open—” He pulls the seams of the top of the sock apart from each other, and discovers two pairs of dark blue ankle-length socks. “You’re an idiot.”
“You love me.”
TK shakes his head, “yeah, yeah.”
<3
“I brought you a gift.”
It’s Carlos’ birthday, and TK is standing in front of him with both his hands behind his back. “Pick a side.”
Carlos sighs, and straightens his back from where it’s plastered against a wooden chair. “I told you not to get me anything.”
“Wait until you see what it is. Just pick a side.”
Carlos points at TK’s left arm, “that one.”
“Drumroll, please.”
“Babe.”
“Right.” His hand comes from behind his back and reveals a pair of bright rainbow socks, Carlos almost closes his eyes to get away from the horror.
“You got me rainbow socks.”
TK revealed the content of his other arm, and Carlos has half of a heart attack.
“You got me two pairs of rainbow socks. For my birthday.”
“You only turn twenty-eight once, don’t you.”
“Is this because I got you soccer socks last month?” Carlos pushes his chair behind him and takes the socks out of TK’s hands to check the size of the socks. “They fit, too.”
“What, are pride socks not your thing?”
“I don’t like looking like my boyfriend got me socks from the flying tiger.”
“They’re from Amazon.”
<3
Carlos loves his boyfriend, and he’s said so a million times. He doesn’t like letting a day go by without telling him that—or, at least, showing him,
But, as he stares at the face of Dwayne—The Rock!—Johnson’s face shaped like a sock, he hated TK a little. (Just a little, Carlos can barely get the thought over his heart.)
It’s not the only pair of horrendous socks he’s got lying around his closet; next to the rainbow-coloured socks—in his closet, ironic —there lies a pair of pink socks with little embroidered Pinkie Pies onto them. He’s worn them once, just once.
TK has dubbed it The Sock War , and Carlos hates it— mostly, well, because every single time he comes across an Amazon post picturing the most violently ugly socks; he has to buy them.
He’s currently sitting in the living room, waiting patiently for the delivery person to ring the bell and hand him a package over. A pair of dreadful socks, most definitely.
After a few faithful hours, the doorbell rings and Carlos is the first one to open the door. He takes the parcel and puts his signature on the delivery person’s paper. “Thank you, have a nice day.”
Carlos brings the box to the kitchen, searches the drawers for a clean knife and pries loose the tape sealing the package. He takes out the socks he ordered. “TK?”
TK emerges from the bedroom and almost turns back around at the sight of the direful pair of socks in Carlos’ hands. Carlos lets out a laugh that he himself feels might even be a little evil. “Your reaction just made my day.”
“You’re evil, actually fucking evil.”
“Here,” he hands the socks to TK, and he takes them. “You have to wear them.”
They’re a pair of black socks, but the image embroidered is Carlos’ face. Over, and over again; all around the sock.
“How did you even get these?” TK’s disgusted expression spoke a thousand words.
“You don’t like them? You always say you love my face.”
“I hate you.”
<3
Carlos arrives home to what he knows is a conspiring TK.
“What are you brewing?” Carlos throws his bag into the corner of the hallway. “Please tell me it’s not a pair of socks.”
TK stands up from the couch and walks over to his boyfriend, pressing a quick kiss into his lips. “It’s a pair of socks.”
“Look, babe, I know you want to get back at me for the, well, my face socks, but there’s no coming back from that. You lost the war.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m about to win, actually.” TK pulls a pair of rolled-up socks out of the pocket of his hoodie.
“They’re plain yellow socks, TK.”
TK presses them into Carlos’ hands and gestures for him to sit down on the couch with him. “Actually, they have Homer Simpson sown into the front.”
“I love you, but that still doesn’t mean you won.”
‘You can wear these at our wedding.”
“Yeah, right .” Carlos laughs, and wants to stand up from the couch—
“Look inside.”
“That’s my trick, you stole my trick.”
TK chuckles and takes Carlos’ left hand in his, entangling their fingers. “Just look inside.”
Carlos unfolded the yellow socks and his gaze doesn’t fall on Homer Simpson, but on the ring blinking in the light that shines on it. “TK.”
“Carlos,” he speaks, “marry me.”