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Carlos tastes like lime and barbacoa. His lips are warm and soft as they slide against TK’s and when Carlos plants his hand on the side of TK’s face to angle it and kiss him more deeply, TK thinks – not for the first time – that he could do this forever.
TK pulls at the back of Carlos’ shirt, sliding his hands underneath it to feel the ripple of Carlos’ muscles, taking a moment to slide a hand up Carlos’ side to the spot on his ribs that makes him giggle. Sure enough, Carlos giggles against TK’s lips.
“TK,” he cautions.
TK answers him with another kiss, moving down the column of his neck and delighting in the soft noises Carlos makes as he sucks at the delicate skin. Carlos tastes like summer, his skin salty with dried sweat; TK breathes him in.
“We should stop,” Carlos says later, a little breathless, pressing their foreheads together. “Someone is going to come looking for you, and I should get back to work.”
“Nope,” TK replies, stealing another kiss.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Nancy calls from behind them like she’d been waiting for her cue. “It’s not like we’ve got inventory to do. It’s fine. Make out with your husband instead of doing your job. I don’t mind at all.”
“Thanks Nance!” TK answers brightly, kissing Carlos again to make a point.
Carlos pulls away. “Sorry, Nancy.”
The thing is, no one could blame TK. Not really. How could they?
It’s not his fault that Carlos strutted into the station in his stupid belts that emphasise the swing of his hips and his shirt that highlights his broad shoulders, sweeping the hat off his head and drawing attention to his long fingers while the tie that swings from his neck just begs TK to grab it. It’s definitely not TK’s fault that Carlos licked his fingers while eating the tacos that he’d brought in for the entire 126 for lunch.
What else was TK to do other than tug Carlos by his tie into the laundry to make out until someone came looking for them?
Looking at Carlos now – his shirt slightly rumpled and untucked where TK had rucked it up to get a hand on his husband’s bare skin, collar open and tie askew, his lips kiss-swollen and red – TK really just wants to push him back up against the washing machine and keep kissing him.
Except for the fact that Nancy is in the room smirking at them. Though, that hasn’t stopped him before.
“You’ve got a little … something there,” she gestures at Carlos’ neck.
He swipes at his neck in response, brow furrowed and TK blanches when he notices the hickey he’s left there, just above Carlos’ collar.
“Uh, crap. Let’s hope nobody sees that.” He looks at Carlos, biting the inside of his cheek so that he doesn’t smile because, quite frankly, he doesn’t regret it.
“TK, Nancy just saw it!” Carlos cries.
“Sorry? I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Carlos throws him a dirty look just as the alarm sounds for medical.
“Gotta run, babe, sorry! I love you!”