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“Baby?” TK pokes Carlos’ side. “Babe, wake up.” When Carlos doesn’t stir, he pokes him again. “Babe, oh my god.”
After a moment, Carlos opens one slatted eye.
“Ah, great, you’re awake. So—“
“Shu’up,” Carlos grumbles. He squeezes his eyes shut, craning his neck so he can press his face into the pillow—TK’s pillow.
Despite the fact Carlos can’t see him, TK pouts. “But babe!”
With a groan, Carlos flops onto his back and forces one eye open. “What s’time?”
It’s past three, but he doesn’t tell him that. Instead, he asks, “Who do you have a crush on?”
Carlos shoots him a glare through the darkness of the room. “TK, you’re my husband.”
TK shrugs. “And?”
“Does it count as a crush if—“ He cuts himself off with a yawn, and okay, TK feels the tiniest bit bad. “If you’re my husband?” he finishes.
Running his hand through Carlos’ curls, TK watches as his lips lift into a half smile. He huffs out a laugh. “I hope so ‘cause you’re my crush, too.”
Carlos fumbles for his hand, tugging until he all but falls on top of him. His arms immediately tighten around him, and he presses his face into the crook of TK’s neck.
“Good,” he mumbles. “Now go back to sleep.”
TK hums happily. “‘Kay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
—
“Carlos?”
“Go to sleep.”
He huffs. “Carlos.”
Despite being warm, Carlos tugs the covers over his head, away from TK in the process. He feels TK tug back, but he keeps ahold of it until TK lets out a whine of his name.
“Tyler, go to sleep,” he mumbles.
“Babe, I have a question.”
Carlos groans. He rolls back over again and opens one eye to watch his husband through the darkness of their bedroom. “I swear to god, TK, if this is one of your stupid questions about who my crush is. You. You’re my husband, I married you, I love you, but I am wondering why right about now.”
Okay, that’s not true, but his husband does have a history of random middle-of-the-night questions, and Carlos really doesn’t love it, but he does, unfortunately, love one TK Strand.
“It’s not about your crush,” TK replies, followed by, quite frankly, an adorable giggle. “But that’s really good to know, babe.”
“So, go back to sleep.”
“But my question!”
Frustrated, Carlos lets out a huff. He runs a hand across his face, half-tempted to use said hand to poke his husband’s cheek, but he knows that will only start something of a fight that means neither of them would back down from, so he doesn’t. Instead, he deadpans, “Ask the damn question or we’re getting a divorce.”
Somehow, TK still giggles. “Okay, so you remember our honeymoon?”
“Yes, Tyler.”
“You remember on the… third day, was it? When we had that amazing mac ‘n’ cheese?”
Carlos resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You mean I had the amazing mac ‘n’ cheese and you stole half of it?”
TK’s grin shines through the darkness, and Carlos’ heart falters. “It was great, right?”
“Did you really wake me up in the middle of the night to talk about pasta, TK?”
“Of course not, baby.”
“Oh my god, Tyler Kennedy,” he mumbles under his breath. Then, louder, “What then?”
“And you said you knew the secret ingredient.”
“Yes.”
TK makes a noise. “And?”
Why they’re having this conversation at fucking three am, Carlos has no idea, but he answers, “Truffle.”
“Truffle!” TK exclaims loudly, and Carlos cringes, groaning.
“Tyler.”
“Will you make it for me?”
He shifts toward his husband, practically flopping on top of him not dissimilar from the movement of a seal. “If it makes you go back to sleep, yes.”
TK wraps his arms around him, one of his hands finding his hair. “Mm, I knew I married you for a reason.”
Carlos huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes as he buries his head in TK’s neck.
Thankfully, TK stays quiet.
—
“Hey, baby, I’m home,” TK says as he slides the door open to their bedroom. When he sees Carlos asleep with his glasses on, his tablet still in hand, he can’t help but smile, but he soon lets out a sigh when the day’s events settle heavily on his shoulders.
He pads quietly around the room. His shoes and bag are by the door, and thankfully, he showered at the firehouse, so all that’s left to do is strip off his post-shift clothes and slip into his sleepwear. He brushed his teeth just now, too, and he really can’t wait to curl up with his husband, even more so now his wedding ring is back in its rightful place.
First, though, he pads over to Carlos. He takes his tablet and puts it on the nightstand, then pulls his skewed glasses from his face. His smile returns fleetingly, returns again and lingers a little when he runs his fingers through Carlos’ curls and Carlos’ lips lift. He doesn’t stir, sadly, and TK’s heart falters.
“Oh, baby…” He shakes his head, letting out another sigh as he wanders over to the closet. “Please wake up,” he mumbles, mostly to himself.
Still, Carlos doesn’t, and TK tries to ignore the tears in his eyes.
A handful of minutes later, the heaviness is still there, but he’s dressed in comfortable pajamas, the lights off, and sliding into bed beside Carlos. As if it’s an automatic reaction, Carlos rolls over toward TK, his hand fumbling for him. When he finds him, he lets out a breath and presses his face into TK’s shoulder.
“Babe?”
Again, nothing. This time, TK pulls him closer, dropping a kiss to his hair, then pressing his nose there. He sighs. He shouldn’t disturb Carlos; he looks so peaceful splayed out on his chest, and TK already feels guilty enough from the last call of his shift tonight.
But this is his husband, he reasons with himself. Carlos would hate the thought of him lying here, wallowing in his own thoughts. He did once say if TK needed someone to talk to at three o’clock in the morning, he could just roll over.
It’s not three, and he doesn’t have to roll over, but the sentiment is all the same.
“Carlos,” he whispers, louder than before. He shakes him slightly, one hand on his shoulder, the other pushing into his hair. “Babe, wake up.”
In the past, Carlos would jump. He did when TK woke him at three in the morning to propose, and, for a time, he did when his own nightmares would wake him, but these days, he tends to wake slower and more groggy, like he does today.
Despite his spinning head, TK thinks he’s adorable.
“You’re home,” he murmurs into the material of his t-shirt.
“Yeah,” TK replies. “‘M sorry for waking you.”
Carlos is quiet for a long moment. “‘S okay, Ty. Missed you.”
As Carlos snuggles into him, TK lets himself smile. The weight of the day didn’t lift, though, but being here, being with his husband, always helps.
Still, it’s a push to get himself to say, “Can we talk?”
“No silly questions.”
He huffs out a laugh, pushing his fingers through Carlos’ curls once more; he can’t help himself. “No, baby, um. Rough shift.”
Immediately, Carlos tries to move from his arms, but TK doesn’t let him. Instead, he holds him closer and whispers, “Don’t move.”
Carlos lifts his head to rest his chin on TK’s chest, looking at him through the darkness. “Do you need to call someone?”
TK shakes his head, cupping his cheek. “Just need you.”
Carlos smiles, dopey and sleepy. “I’m here, Tyler. I’m here. You want to tell me about it?”
Mirroring his smile, TK nods.
—
“Would you still love me if I was a lizard?”
Carlos lets out a series of curses under his breath, quickly trying to console his extensive knowledge of Texan law to double-triple-check it’s definitely illegal to smother your husband with a pillow when he won’t stop asking stupid questions at nearly three o’clock in the morning.
Okay, fine, he’s the one to blame when he married TK with the knowledge he isn’t the best sleeper—whether that’s to do with existential thoughts or stupid questions—and he loves him despite it, even if his own sleep suffers because of it.
“It’s a genuine question, babe,” he adds, but at least he’s whispering. Some nights, his voice will echo through Carlos’ head and the room, but tonight, it’s gentle and surprisingly comforting. If Carlos tugs on his arm, encouraging a tighter grip, no one needs to know.
He makes a noncommittal noise, but TK continues on.
“Like, I know you love Lou now, I see you talking to him when you think I’m not watching, but would you love me if I was a lizard?”
Carlos most definitely does not love Lou, but he’s too tired to refute the point. Still, he does manage to say, “I love all of you,” in the hope that it’s a good enough response to TK’s question.
Apparently not.
“But a lizard would make, you know, impossible.”
“You know?”
“Sex,” TK murmurs. “We wouldn’t be able to…”
“You know,” Carlos quotes again. He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to TK’s hand. “We’re not twelve, TK. And no, I wouldn’t have sex with a lizard.”
He hears TK hum from behind before he pulls his hand out of Carlos’ grip, flopping over. He sighs, and Carlos feels the loss of his husband’s warmth. Suddenly, sleep is the last thing on his mind.
“Tyler?” he says into the darkness of their bedroom. As he turns over, he fumbles for his husband, trying to grab onto him, but TK jerks away from his touch. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
TK’s face is pressed into his pillow. “It’s stupid.”
“I promise it’s not stupid. Talk to me.”
Carlos rubs TK’s back for a minute or so until he pulls his head away from the pillow. He scrambles for Carlos’ eyes through the darkness of the room, murmuring, “Sometimes I don’t know why you’re with me.”
Carlos furrows his brows but stays quiet.
“You’re amazing,” he says, “and I’m just me.”
“You’re amazing,” Carlos replies matter-of-factly. “There is nothing ‘just’ about you, TK. There is no one else in this world who would get away with asking me questions about lizards in the middle of the night.”
TK huffs out a hollow laugh. “I won’t even let you sleep.”
Carlos resists the urge to pull him into his arms, instead saying, “I love you, and I love the questions your brain comes up with. I wish they wouldn’t disturb you, but I’ll tell you I’ll love you even if you turn into a lizard as many times as you need to hear it.”
“Love you, too,” he murmurs, and it’s only then that TK shuffles over again, resting his head on Carlos’ chest. “‘M sorry.”
“Shh, I’ve got you. Get some sleep, baby.”
TK lets out a breath, quiet for a moment, but just as Carlos’ eyes start drooping again, he asks, “Babe?”
Carlos manages a hum.
“What if I was a worm?”
—
TK furrows his brows as Carlos makes yet another noise in his sleep. He’s been doing it for a while, for at least the past ten minutes since TK woke up unable to get back to sleep, and TK wonders if it’s been going on longer than that.
These noises, little sighs and whines, as adorable as they are, are beginning to worry him. Because Carlos used to suffer from bad nightmares, and though they’ve significantly improved since he started at regular therapy sessions, he’s concerned they’re making a reappearance tonight.
He thinks back to the day. They were both at work, their shifts overlapping almost entirely. He saw Carlos on three calls, nothing overly unusual, and he even popped by the firehouse for lunch. He seemed… happy. And when TK got home to find his husband in the kitchen humming along to a Spanish song playing on his phone, it only confirmed that for him.
Now, he’s wondering if he missed something.
Then, Carlos lets out another noise close to a whimper, and TK can’t take it anymore.
“Carlos? Baby, wake up, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He runs his hand through his hair, much like he always does when he’s aiming to wake Carlos gently and keeps his voice to a whisper. “Wake up, baby. I’m here.”
A second later, Carlos opens his eyes slowly. TK expected him to jerk awake like he usually does, but he just glances up at TK, whining.
“Baby, you’re okay,” TK whispers. “I’m here. Hey.”
“No,” Carlos groans.
“I am, you’re not alone, it was just a nightm—“
“No,” Carlos repeats louder. “No!” This time, he kicks the rest of the covers off and flops onto his back like a starfish. “Tyler, why did you do that?!”
Confused, TK pulls his hand away from Carlos. “Babe, you were having a nightmare.”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“You were, you kept making these noises and—“
Carlos groans—again. “Yeah, babe, I was dreaming. About you.”
At Carlos’ pointed look, TK lets his eyes run down his husband’s pajama-clad body. “Oh.”
“Yes, TK.”
He presses his lips together to stifle a giggle. Failing, he ends up collapsing on top of him, burying his face against Carlos’ chest as he laughs. He hears Carlos grumble something, but he just laughs harder until Carlos threads his fingers through his hair.
“Tyler. Stop that.”
TK lifts his head to look Carlos in the eye, a smirk on his face. “Stop what, babe?”
Carlos rolls his eyes. “Tyler Kennedy.”
“Babe.”
“Seriously.”
He pokes his tongue out between his teeth, and Carlos tightens his grip on his hair.
“I’ll tell you about my dream,” he warns.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”
Humming, Carlos tugs until TK is hovering over him. He grins widely, and Carlos just pulls him into a passionate kiss.
“You could show me instead,” TK mumbles against his lips after a moment.
Carlos huffs out a breath between them. “I mean, now we’re up…”
There’s a comment about what else is up on the tip of TK’s tongue, but Carlos kisses him before he gets it out, and he really doesn’t mind; there are worse positions to be in at three o’clock in the morning.
—
Carlos lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He’s got one arm behind his head, the other stretched over so he can slowly massage TK’s shoulder. There’s a smile on his face, too.
His smile is unmoving. It’s unnerving, he’ll admit, but he’s kind of obsessed with the guilt-free happiness running through his veins. It’s been months since he’s felt like this. He’s been happy, sure; as much as it’s been difficult, it hasn’t all been overwhelming darkness. But this is… It’s without any of that. It’s pure happiness without anything else.
Unless you count the overpowering love he has for his husband, of course, but that’s a constant presence.
And today—or yesterday now, he assumes; he hasn’t looked at the clock in a while—was an amazing day.
For their three-month anniversary, they had an at-home date, something of a common occurrence these days. They both prefer it to going out, just the comfort of their home and each other, no pressure to mask or hide, but for this, they put in a bit of effort. They both cooked—TK the starter and dessert, Carlos the main—and they both dressed up in semi-smart clothes. They sat perpendicular at the table, covered with LED candles and fresh flowers, their knees touching underneath. Periodically, they linked their pinkies together, and Carlos couldn’t keep the smile from his face then just like he can’t now.
He lets his eyes rake across TK’s body. He’s only half covered by the duvet, his t-shirt raked up to expose half of his abdomen, and briefly, Carlos wonders if he’s cold. TK runs cold, but he can’t quite reach to tug the duvet up again, so he leaves it for now.
Instead, he focuses on TK’s left hand. It’s currently resting on his chest, his fingers curled a little as he loosely grips onto the material of his tank top. His wedding band shines in the low light of their room, and Carlos can’t tear his eyes away.
When he does, they fall no further than to his husband. Even in his sleep, with his head resting on Carlos’ shoulder, there’s a faint smile on his parted lips, and if Carlos thought it was possible to fall any further in love with this man, he just did.
As he does so, a giggle slips past his lips.
TK stirs. His fingers flex, and he lets out a breath, makes that adorable half grunt, half whine noise that Carlos thought he would’ve stopped loving by now, and tries to stretch without moving.
Carlos draws circles with his thumb on TK’s shoulder. “Hey, babe. Sorry for waking you.”
Truthfully, he’s not. Selfishly, he’s glad.
“Mm, wha’ time is it?” TK slurs, and Carlos’ smile widens impossibly.
“Not sure.”
His reply comes a beat too late, no doubt from his sleepiness. “What’re you doing awake?”
“Thinking about you,” Carlos says, the full and whole truth. “Thinking about how we’ve been married for three months, and I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”
“That’s me, baby.”
He chuckles softly. “Both of us.”
This time, TK pulls his head up from Carlos’ shoulder, resting his chin on his bicep. He smiles, his eyes closing for a second, but when he opens them, they shine in the darkness.
“Three months,” TK murmurs.
“Three months,” Carlos agrees. “You’ve been my husband for three months.” He moves his hand to cup TK’s cheek, ghosting his thumb over his lips. TK presses a kiss there. “I love you more than anything.”
“I love you more than anything.”
Carlos beams at his husband. “You make me so happy, Tyler.”
“You make me so happy, Carlos.”
As TK giggles, Carlos can’t stop himself from laughing. He touches his lips again, then trails his hand around to thread his fingers through his hair. “Are you too tired to come up here?”
Shaking his head, TK shuffles up until he’s hovering above Carlos. He holds there for a second, both of them smiling at each other, until Carlos tugs on his hair, and TK kisses him, slow and deep and breathtaking.
“Babe,” TK mumbles against his lips after a while. “Did you really just wake me up in the middle of the night to have sex?”
Carlos tries to distract him with another kiss, but TK won’t kiss back, so he pulls away enough to send him a smirk. “Complaining?”
TK pretends to think for a moment, then shakes his head. “We’re celebrating, right? Three months.”
“Celebrating,” Carlos agrees, but the word gets muffled by TK’s lips.
Celebrating indeed.