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When T.K. greets Carlos at the door of the loft with a bouncy, bubbling, “Hey baby,” Carlos can immediately tell that something is off. It’s too bright, too aggressively friendly, even after a full day apart.
Carlos always knows when T.K. has something on his mind. His husband is basically an open book. Emotions can’t live hidden inside his body; they bleed out of him in the lines of his face, the stiffness of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, even when he’s trying not to let them. Carlos can tell with one look, one word, one sigh exactly how his husband is feeling.
The problem is that T.K.’s open book might as well be in French for all the good it does Carlos. He can read the words, but interpreting them? That’s another skill entirely.
T.K. barks when he feels threatened, hides away when he’s feeling sad, runs when he feels overwhelmed. So even when Carlos knows what T.K. is feeling, he always has to take a breath and deduce what it is that T.K. really needs. Sometimes it’s a listening ear, sometimes it’s space, sometimes it’s sex or cuddles or just a snack. And if he picks the wrong one? That doesn’t usually work in either of their favors.
Something is lurking under the surface tonight and Carlos fights the urge to ask what’s wrong, biting his tongue instead until he can assess the situation and decide the best course of action. Sometimes his husband is an emergency situation, and you never want to walk into one those without as much information as you can get.
“Hi,” Carlos says in return, accepting T.K.’s kiss and patting his hip gently, giving it a squeeze. He’ll start small. Extra physical affection usually gets positive results. It’s a reminder that he’s here, that’s he’s supportive, that he’ll listen if that’s what T.K. wants or needs.
“I made coq au vin,” T.K. says, a slightly breathless, manic tone in his voice as he ushers Carlos toward the kitchen to see. “And I picked up an apple pie from the market for dessert.”
“Dessert on a Tuesday, huh?” Carlos says, raising his eyebrows. Now he definitely knows something is going on. He affects a teasing smile, keeping his voice light and fun. “Are you divorcing me?”
T.K.’s head snaps up sharply. “No. What? Why would you think that?”
“Babe, I’m kidding,” Carlos says calmly, putting a hand on T.K.’s upper arm and squeezing gently. Okay so not a time for humor. Understood. “It all smells amazing.”
“It’s almost done. Do you want to shower first? Or later? Do you want a glass of wine with dinner? Probably a red, right?”
T.K. is already off and moving without waiting for an answer to any of the questions he’s posed and Carlos watches, studying him. He’s chattering on, which is sometimes a sign of happiness or contentment, but tonight there’s a nervous undercurrent to it. Something’s on his mind, and instinct tells Carlos he needs to let T.K. come to him with it in his own time. Sometimes he can be pushed, but other times Carlos’ prodding spooks him like a wild animal and they end up in a fight.
He’d rather not do that tonight.
Instead they sit through dinner with T.K. ping ponging back and forth between chatty and reserved, another sign that he’s nervous. There are a few quiet moments where Carlos thinks he might be about to spill whatever is bothering him, but he clams up at the last second each time, the words still locked inside of him.
When they’re done Carlos washes the dishes and T.K. sort of wanders the loft a little bit before settling on the couch and turning on some K-Drama that Paul got him obsessed with.
Carlos studies him as he cleans up. There’s a stiffness to T.K.’s relaxing, a look on his face that says he’s not really paying attention to what’s on the screen, but instead watching something inside of his own head.
“Do you want anything before I sit down?” Carlos asks as he hangs up the dish towel he’s been using, all the dishes now neatly put away in their cabinets.
He doesn’t get a response. “T.K.?” he tries again.
“Yeah?” T.K. finally turns at the sound of his name.
“Do you want anything? Water?”
“Oh, no. Thanks.”
Okay then. Carlos grabs his own water and then settles onto the couch next to his husband as a new episode rolls onto the screen. He watches for a bit, waiting, another strategy in play. Sometimes T.K. will turn the show off and talk when something is bothering him, but that doesn’t seem to be happening tonight.
So Carlos tries another technique. He lets one hand rest gently on T.K.’s knee and then slowly moves his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion. When T.K. doesn’t look up Carlos escalates by lifting his hand, first kissing his palm, then his wrist.
“Baby,” he says quietly.
“Hm?” T.K. glances at him and then back at the TV.
“Do you wanna…?” Carlos lets his sentence hang, waiting for T.K. to take the bait.
“What?” T.K. asks, throwing him another glance.
Carlos bites back a sigh. “Never mind.”
So not sex then. It was a long shot anyway. If that was what T.K. needed, he probably would have initiated it in the first place. Carlos has been attacked by a randy T.K. on more than one occasion the second he walked in the door. But it was worth a try.
Running out of options Carlos resorts to one of his emergency T.K. anxiety plans as they ready for bed.
“Well goodnight,” he says, snapping his book shut and setting his glasses on the nightstand the second T.K. returns from brushing his teeth. He leans over to peck his surprised husband on the lips and then turns off the light on his nightstand before snuggling into his pillow and closing his eyes.
“Oh, you’re going to sleep?” T.K. asks, sounding confused and a touch disappointed.
“Yeah, I’m tired,” Carlos says, even though he definitely still has enough energy to read for a bit. But if he lets T.K. go to bed first, there’s a good chance they’re going to have this conversation at four am. He doesn’t mind when T.K. wakes him up in the middle of the night to talk. Sometimes it’s what he needs and Carlos is always willing to give it to him. But he has found that if he ‘goes to sleep first,’ sometimes that’s enough to get T.K. to start opening up and avoid a middle of the night wakeup.
He lays there with his eyes closed, breathing evenly, waiting. T.K. shifts a little bit, the sheets sliding toward his side of the bed. Carlos doesn’t have to see him to know he’s thinking, probably chewing the inside of his lip as he decides if he’s going to broach whatever topic is on his mind.
After about ten minutes Carlos finds that he’s starting to drift. He’s about to give up on getting answers tonight and let sleep drag him under when T.K. finally speaks. “Enzo called me today.”
There it is.
Carlos opens his eyes. “Oh yeah? Everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
T.K. doesn’t elaborate further, fiddling with the top of the duvet instead.
“How’s Jonah?” Carlos asks, prodding a little now that he’s finally been let into the anxiety spiral.
“He’s good.”
“Did you talk to him? Or just Enzo?”
“Just Enzo.”
“He still happy with the nanny?”
“Yeah he said she’s great. She takes Jonah to a library story time every week, they go for walks in the park, he can even count to ten now.”
“That’s amazing,” Carlos says. He knows it eats at T.K., being so far away from his brother, especially since his mom isn’t there anymore. Carlos wishes they could go to New York more often, but financially and work-wise it’s just not feasible to fly out more than a couple times a year. “Maybe we should invite them for Christmas. Show them what Austin has to offer at the holidays,” he suggests.
“Yeah?” T.K. asks.
“Yeah,” Carlos says. “My mom would love to have them join us. The more the merrier.”
“I’ll ask him,” T.K. says. “That would be fun.”
Carlos lets silence reign for a moment. “Was Enzo just calling to chat or…?”
“He um, he has a couple preschools in mind. He’s going to send them to us. If you’d want to take a look with me?”
“Yeah, of course,” Carlos says, still not sure what exactly is causing his husband’s nerves. This doesn’t feel like it.“Ana had to do it for both kids. I can give her a call if you want.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”
He lapses into silence again and Carlos decides he’s obviously still not ready to reveal whatever’s bothering him. He closes his eyes, preparing himself to actually go to sleep this time.
“That’s not all he called to talk about.”
Carlos’ eyes pop open. “Okay.”
“Um.” T.K. shifts nervously, his voice breaking a little bit.
Carlos pushes himself upright and turns his light back on, suddenly alarmed that the situation is more serious than he was anticipating. “Hey.” He reaches over and covers T.K.’s fiddling hands with his own. “Is Enzo okay? Is Jonah okay?” Panic creeps down his throat as fear for their long distance family grabs him.
“Yeah, no he’s fine.” T.K. blows out a breath and Carlos waits anxiously. He has no idea what could possibly be going through his husband’s head.
“He um, he called because he’s updating his will. And he—” T.K. swallows and finally looks up to meet Carlos’ eyes. “He asked if we would be willing to take Jonah in the event that he, you know, if Enzo dies.”
Carlos feels his lips part and he can’t stop the surprise that crosses his face. That is not at all something that he had on his incredibly long, ever growing list of things that T.K. could possibly be worrying about.
“I know you said you didn’t want kids,” T.K. says quickly, like he’s trying to head off Carlos’ thoughts before he can even get them out. “I heard you when you said that. This isn’t me trying to force fatherhood on you. So I—I get it if you wouldn’t want to do that. Enzo said his sister might be able to take Jonah or maybe his niece if we can’t do it. He just, you know, he thought maybe I would want to. He knows my mom would want Jonah to be with family and I’m his next closest blood relative and he—“
“T.K., T.K. stop,” Carlos finally says.
T.K. immediately clams up, searching Carlos’ gaze, trying to parse meaning from the curve of his eyebrows and the shape of his lips.
“Of course we would take Jonah,” Carlos tells him. “Baby, of course we would take him. We can take him tomorrow if Enzo needs us to.”
“Really?” T.K.’s voice sounds so vulnerable, so uncertain, and it breaks Carlos’ heart.
“Yes T.K. He’s our family. He’s not going to Enzo’s cousin’s mom’s sister or some other random person. Your mom would want the two of you to be together. We would make it happen.”
T.K. exhales a shaky breath and Carlos watches as a tear slips down his cheek. “Were you afraid I’d say no?” Carlos asks, worried that somehow he’s caused a massive lack of trust in their relationship and trying to figure out how that happened.
“No? I—I don’t know,” T.K. says. “I guess I just…I didn’t want you to feel like I was pressuring you into something we’d both agreed to put on hold for now.”
“Asking me if I’d be willing to take in your brother and help you raise him is not the same as forcing me into fatherhood,” Carlos says. “It’s not, T.K. I’m not sure I can be a dad, but I can be a damn fabulous brother-in-law. If, god forbid, something happens to Enzo, Jonah comes to us. End of story.”
It’s crazy how strongly he feels about this. Realistically T.K.’s right; gaining Jonah would essentially be them gaining a child. It would be a type of fatherhood. But where Carlos has always felt so much uncertainty about raising a kid of his own, there’s not an ounce of fear in him when it comes to saying yes to this. It’s the right thing to do. If it happens…he’ll get past his doubts and insecurities. Somehow.
None of that even matters right now anyway. They’re talking hypotheticals. All that matters is that T.K. understands how deeply Carlos supports the idea of them all being together.
“Seriously?” T.K. asks, his eyes damp with tears. “You’d want him here?”
“I want him here anytime baby.”
T.K. blinks, his eyes saying so many things it’s like they’re screaming at Carlos. “I love you so much, you know that?”
“I love you too,” Carlos says, reaching out and sliding his hand down the back of T.K.’s neck. “And I love Jonah. We’d figure it out, okay?”
T.K. blows out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
Carlos squeezes gently. “Did I do something to make you think we couldn’t talk about this? I know I was adamant about the kids thing the first time but, we’ve talked about it since then and I thought we were okay. Did you feel like I wouldn’t hear you out?”
“No, no,” T.K. says quickly. “No I think I just, I built it up in my head, you know? I was worrying about stuff that I didn’t need to. I should have known you would listen and we would talk about it. I just, the idea of Jonah going to someone else…I can’t stand it. He’s already been through so much, you know?”
“I know.” Carlos nods sympathetically.
“And I think I panicked a little over that thought and then I let it spin me out. You know how it goes.” T.K. ducks his head sheepishly.
“Well next time don’t let it go,” Carlos says, making a silly face so T.K. knows he’s teasing. He’s aware that it’s not that easy. “We’ll call Enzo tomorrow together, okay?”
“Okay.”
Carlos leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “Feel better?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He settles back down and reaches over to turn off the light, thrilled that he’s accomplished his mission for the night and they can both go to sleep with worry-free minds.
T.K. remains sitting up and lets out a soft, timid little, “Oh.”
Carlos looks up at him confused. “Was there something else?” It had seemed like T.K. was done letting out all his anxiety.
“No, just…” T.K. shrugs. “I kind of thought you were starting something earlier on the couch and…”
Carlos busts out a laugh. “Oh now you want to have sex? Now you want me to seduce you?”
“Well you don’t have to seduce me, you could just, I don’t know…” T.K. grumbles as Carlos reaches up and pulls him down into mattress, hooking a pajama clad leg over his hip.
“Oh you don’t know?” he teases, kissing his cheek.
“Yeah, I don’t know…”