Chapter Text
Carlos had the kind of day that clung to his skin like humidity—thick, relentless, and impossible to shake. Paperwork disasters, a suspect vomiting on his shoes, and then a department-wide system crash that erased two hours of progress. By the time he walked through the door, his limbs were heavy and his soul felt scuffed.
TK was already home, tucked into one of his oversized hoodies, the soft pastel blue one that Carlos swore multiplied every time he did laundry. The apartment smelled faintly of lavender and popcorn, and a Pixar movie played quietly on the TV.
Carlos didn’t need to say anything. TK glanced up from where he was curled on the couch, a blanket half-pulled around him like a cocoon. His expression softened immediately.
“Bad day?” he asked gently.
Carlos only nodded and kicked off his shoes with a sigh. TK patted the couch beside him, then opened his arms.
Carlos melted into them.
It started as a regular cuddle—Carlos leaned back against the cushions, TK tucked into his side, head on his shoulder. But it wasn’t long before the Iconic Tarlos Cuddling Position™ took shape like muscle memory. TK shifted, climbing fully into Carlos’s lap without a word, legs tangled with his, arms around his chest. His face pressed just under Carlos’s jaw, right where he could feel the pulse, steady and strong.
Carlos smiled faintly, even through the weight of the day. He wrapped his arms around TK’s back, holding him close. “You’re in clingy mode,” he murmured.
TK hummed, already nuzzling into the curve of Carlos’s neck. “Mmm. Octopus mode,” he corrected, voice soft and faintly lisped—his little space voice. Higher, sweeter, safer.
Carlos loosened a hand to run his fingers through TK’s hair, slow and rhythmic. “That so?”
TK nodded into his skin. “Need cuddles. ‘Cause you’re grumpy. And I’m cozy.” A small pause. “Also I had apple slices and then got sad ‘cause the green ones are too sour.”
That pulled a chuckle from Carlos, the first one all day. “Tragic,” he teased, pressing a kiss into TK’s curls. “We’ll file a formal complaint with the apple department.”
“‘Kay,” TK mumbled. “Tell them I need cuddly apples only.”
“You got it, baby.”
TK’s breath evened out as Carlos kept petting his hair, his other hand tracing lazy shapes along his back. The tension in Carlos’s spine unwound slowly, melted by warmth and weight and the unwavering comfort of TK in full snuggle mode. It was so absurdly specific, the way TK molded himself around Carlos like a weighted blanket, knees tucked close, arms looped around his ribs, even his toes hooked behind Carlos’s calf.
It was ridiculous. It was perfect.
TK murmured something half asleep: “Love you big much.”
Carlos smiled into his hair. “Love you even bigger.”
The world could burn outside. Right now, all he needed was this.
His octopus. His soft place to land. His TK.