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Carlos gently opened the door to the loft, his arm steady around T.K.'s waist as they made their way inside. The soft buzz of the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the living room. T.K. was pale but leaning into him, still tired from the surgery.
"Let’s get you settled Babe," Carlos murmured, guiding T.K. over to the couch. His husband’s steps were slow, almost hesitant, but Carlos could feel the reassuring pressure of his hand resting on his side, like T.K. was trying to be strong even when he didn’t have to.
"I’m fine, Baby. Really. I’ll be good in no time," T.K. tried to reassure him, though his voice was soft, and his eyes were a little too heavy to be convincing.
Carlos chuckled softly as he helped his husband ease onto the couch. "I know you’re tough, T.K., but that doesn’t mean you can push yourself. Doctor’s orders: rest. No running around like a superhero today."
T.K. smirked, his usual charm creeping back into his expression. "I’m not a superhero, Carlos. I’m just your average guy who happens to have an abnormally high pain tolerance."
Carlos raised an eyebrow, his hands moving to fluff the pillows behind T.K.'s head. "Yeah, and a season ticket to the West Park Memorial and that is precisely why I’m going to make sure you don’t overdo it. Now, no arguments. You need to sleep."
T.K. pouted slightly but couldn’t hide the affection in his eyes as he relaxed further into the couch, his hand instinctively reaching out for Carlos’. "You’re really good at this, you know that? At making me feel… safe."
Carlos squeezed his hand gently, his thumb brushing the back of T.K.’s. "It’s my job to take care of you baby."
The room fell into a comfortable silence, the kind they often shared after long days, where everything else melted away and it was just the two of them, grounded in their space. T.K’s breathing was steady, but his eyes kept fluttering closed, struggling against the drowsiness that was quickly taking over him.
Carlos glanced at the clock. It had been a long, stressful couple of days, and he knew T.K. still wasn’t fully recovered, no matter how much his husband hated admitting it.
He stood up, gently tugging the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over T.K.'s legs. "Let me grab you something to drink, okay? Something light. Maybe some tea?"
T.K. nodded sleepily, eyes already half-shut. "Yeah… That’d be nice."
Carlos moved to the kitchen, keeping an eye on T.K. as he went, he looked so vulnerable and it made him ache in a way he couldn’t explain. But he would be here. In the good moments, the bad, and especially the ones like this, when his husband needed him most.
He returned with a warm cup of chamomile tea and sat next to T.K., helping him sip it slowly. "There you go. Just a little something to help you relax," he said gently, brushing T.K.’s hair from his forehead.
T.K. took a deep breath, the calm warmth of the tea beginning to work its magic. "I don’t know how you do it, but I think I’m already starting to fall asleep."
Carlos smiled, leaning back into the cushions beside him, content with the simple but perfect moment. "Don’t fight it babe,You need to rest.I’ll be right here when you wake up"
T.K. let out a soft, almost inaudible hum of agreement, curling into Carlos’ side as the exhaustion from the past few days finally caught up with him. He fell asleep before he could say another word, his breathing slow and steady.
Carlos, his hand still resting lightly on T.K.'s arm, watched him for a moment longer, the weight of everything they’d been through settling in a way that felt like home.
He whispered quietly to the still figure beside him, his voice soft but full of love.
"I’ve got you, Always."
And in the silence that followed, as the light dimmed and the loft fell into peaceful tranquility, Carlos knew that, no matter what, they’d get through this together. Just like they always did.