Work Text:
TK lies in bed, shirtless, his arms stretched under his head, showing his unshaved pits. He's not wearing much, though the comforter conceals his bottom half. His husband has to leave early, so TK has spent the past fifteen minutes watching him get dressed, like a reverse striptease. Carlos hovers over him, bracing himself on the bed, and TK doesn't bother moving his arms. They smile at each other so softly, so genuinely happy with each other. Carlos's necklace dangles in the groove of TK's neck as he leans in, twisting his head to fit perfectly with his husband. The kiss is loving, passionate, wet, and filled with emotion.
Carlos’s hand slides behind TK’s head, his fingers tangling in the shorter, slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck. The scent of Carlos’s coffee-sweetened breath and crisp, freshly laundered uniform fills TK’s senses. His lips are soft and yielding against TK’s, a final, lingering taste of him before the long day begins. He pulls away, his eyes still closed, and places his forehead against TK’s. Their noses press together, and TK can feel the light, scruffy texture of his husband's unshaven chin.
“Okay, my love,” Carlos whispers, the words vibrating through TK's skull. “I have to go. They’re holding a fire safety briefing at the academy.”
TK’s eyes flutter open, revealing a groggy but content smile. “I know.” He lets out a slow, satisfied sigh, his chest rising and falling. “Just… one more minute.”
Carlos laughs, a low, warm sound. He plants one last kiss on the tip of TK’s nose before straightening up. The cool morning air immediately hits TK’s exposed skin, and he shivers, a little sad to lose the warmth of Carlos’s body. Carlos grabs his belt from the dresser, the leather making a soft snap as he threads it through the loops of his trousers. His movements are precise and economical, and he is a man who knows his routine by heart. TK watches the play of muscle in his husband’s back as he reaches for his gun belt, a familiar weight of responsibility settling on his hips.
He hears the soft thump-thump as Carlos pulls on his heavy patrol boots; the sounds echo faintly in the spacious loft. The floorboards creak a little under his weight as he moves toward the kitchen island. A moment later, the clink of a coffee cup against a saucer and the soft slosh of liquid confirm he's grabbing his last drink before leaving. TK closes his eyes, trying to commit every mundane detail to memory. This is their life now. The comfortable, quiet moments feel like a reward for all the years of struggle.
A sudden, bright light pierces his eyelids as the curtains are drawn back. He opens them to see Carlos standing by the large windows, the morning sun casting a golden halo around his tall, broad-shouldered frame. He’s looking out at the city, a slight frown of concentration on his face. He turns back to TK, and the frown melts away into a soft smile.
“Have a good day at the station, mi vida,” Carlos says, a sincere, loving warmth in his voice.
“You, too. Be safe.”