#Domestic Tarlos

[chicgeekgirl89]

Rating: G Words: 2622 Summary: When Carlos comes home from a shift to find his husband a bundle of nerves, he spends the evening figuring out the best way to get T.K. to talk. A/N: So believe it or not I've had this one lying around since the end of last season. With the recent info drop about Season 5, it seemed like a good time to put it out there. Enjoy!

Read on AO3

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 too.”

“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…”

[guardian-angle22]

Tarlos Wedding Celebration Event [Week 10] -> favorite hug(s)-> 3.13

[serensational]

tk happily cooking his husband his six meals a day because he wants to. that’s it, that’s the post

[laylawatermelon]

Now all we need is a queer club scene a la lone Star.

Buck would absolutely flourish, henren would be flirting, Eddie would be sitting at the bar doing a beer watching Buck like a hawk and sometimes smiling, Tommy would be in the void floating (sorry babe I'm a Buddie 4 lifer), and for a lil pizzazz Maddie and Chimney also go.

(it evolved into a tiny fic 🥺if you wanna read you can🥺)

ao3 link :

Ravi is probably there somewhere with someone in the VIP section looking down at them both happy but also a bit worried to see them.

(he's been working with them for a while now he knows the rumors of that many collective jinx powers they hold)

He sends them drinks periodically and they all wonder if someone is about to get a sugar daddy and then realize they're all couples so who's the couple who's getting a third?

Hen has her hands permanently glued to her wife's side and her head in her neck. She's murmuring sweet nothings and Karen giggles it away as she rubs any part of her that's closest to her and sips her drink.

Chimney and Maddie chat as they become a two-headed, four-limbed creation that smells of tequila, love, and laughter.

Maddie is constantly getting compliments on her shiny outfit and nails and ends up beside Buck periodically through the night, both of them like radiant sunlight to others.

Chimney also magically appears next to her almost instantaneously but vanishes and returns with drinks for his friends eventually chatting up the biggest guys he can on their gym regimen and suggesting they buy a calendar to support the new Asian Sex Symbol.

Of course, they sell a few copies.

Buck is the crown Jewel of the drag queens who are all shapes, sizes, and identities getting off of a show to have a nice night out.

He's marvelous and praises their outfits before quickly getting sucked into impromptu makeup and drag lessons, cards for shows, drunken histories, sexuality stories, and good ole fun lip-syncing.

And of course, since he's a bright star who everyone loves, many people begin their hunt.

A quick wink, a lingering smile, a hand on his lower back that lingers as long as a guy slides past him.

Okay, that's it.

Eddie orders another two beers, checking his phone for the babysitter's update before pocketing it.

He slides up behind Buck sliding a beer in his hand and resting his head on his shoulder his hand coming up to his waist.

The girls immediately gush about the two saying there are Two Hot Firefighters ready to put out their fire and Eddie bursts out in laughter.

They begin to fawn over him next complimenting his jawline and face suggesting he go into modelling or movies.

One of them says it's a waste but they'd be all fired up if they see him covered in soot. Another asks if he's on the same calendar as the sexy Asian guy.

Buck pouts telling them no and he's the focus again.

The drag queens then launch into a spiel about fire safety and if they could do a lecture at a show or help them.

Buck ends up video calling Bobby at the request and he and Athena are laying in bed amused as they watch him stumble through his words before a crowd of colorful queens squeeze into the frame.

He assumes them he'll think about it and the comment on Athena's beauty before the call is cut.

Bobby turns to Athena after the call and she laughs. "Your boy is always getting into trouble." He kisses her forehead softly. "We should go next time." "Let's."

Later that night as Christopher's finally dozing off, his phone slipping out of his hand he jolts at the sound of the front door bursting open.

Harry and Denny freeze on the phone, their faces both lit up by their computer screen, "What was that?"

Chris reaches for his glasses and slips them on staying quiet.

He listens again and relaxes as he hears giggles and shushes.

He rolls his eyes and pulls his covers over his head. "It's my dads."

The shuffling gets louder and he groans softly as his door is knocked on before it's pushed open.

Eddie grins down at his son's lying form and stumbles over as gracefully as he can. Buck is in the kitchen filling two (plastic) cups with water and shakily walking to his room.

Eddie walks to the left of his bed and kneels down resting his head on his arm.

He pats his head suddenly emotional, "I love you so much you know that?"

Chris frowns at his distressed tone but also notices the softness in his touch.

They watch him and Buck tiptoe in to hand Eddie a cup and rest his on a nightstand.

"We should probably let him sleep, okay babe?"

Eddie drinks from his cup smiling and pats Chris' head one last time. "Okay. Night son."

As they're leaving Buck sticks his head back in, "By the way your phone light is still asking through the blanket. Go to bed, Chris."

Harry and Denny burst out laughing and Chris promptly hangs up. He closes his eyes with a smile on his face as his dads fall into bed sloppily in the next room, leaving their problems for themselves tomorrow. 

[actuallybrini]

Perfect start into a new week 🩵

I really hope we finally get to see some domestic Tarlos. Just some scenes in the Tarloft where it's just the two of them. And even more I wish for a kiss. The last and only ones we saw this season so far were in episode 2. It's been a while. I want love 🩷

new still from Tim Minear's Facebook

[alrightbuckaroo]

now that the storm has slowly started to pass (it's not passed at all) can we please take a moment to talk about the way gabriel's face LIT up when he opened the door and saw tk he was like "oh my gosh hi son-in-law you make my son so happy so in turn make me so happy"

[detective-giggles]

Husbands

Just a little fic filled with soft domestic fluff for @chaotictarlos! Thank you to @bonheur-cafe for the beta, and thank you to @noxsoulmate for suggesting the title. There are no warnings, except for a blatant overuse of the word husband.

🩷🩷🩷

TK sighs in relief as he lets himself into the loft. His first 24-hour shift since returning from their honeymoon had run long and TK was so relieved to finally be returning home to see his husband.

Except Carlos is nowhere to be seen. TK drops his bag by the door and makes his way into the empty kitchen. There’s sauce simmering on the stove and one of TK’s records playing softly in the background.

He turns the knob on the stove to turn the heat down and gives the sauce a quick stir before leaning in for a quick taste. TK can smell the spices but when he tries it, it’s perfect and doesn’t burn his tongue, even though he knows Carlos will add hot sauce to his own later.

Humming along with Frank Sinatra, TK washes his hands and then settles in at the kitchen island, trimming the ends off the green beans Carlos had left out.

He’s almost done when Carlos comes out of the bedroom. “Hey babe!” TK says. “Missed you.”

Carlos laughs and slips his arm around TK, pulling him in for a kiss. “Missed you more,” he says, like he always does.

He moves past TK to stir the sauce and check on whatever is in the oven. “What are you thinking about?” Carlos asks. “You have a goofy little grin.”

“Nothing. I just love coming home to you.”

“You’ve been doing that for a while, you know?”

“Yeah, but now I’m coming home to my husband.”

:readmore:

“Well I’m happy to have my husband home. How was my husband’s day?”

“Not bad, actually.” TK scoops up the beans and tosses them in a colander. He rinses them, leaves them in the sink to drain and starts to set the table.

“Did Nancy give you shit about…” Carlos gestures vaguely and TK’s hand flies to his neck, his fingers brushing the one hickey that wasn’t able to be covered by his uniform shirt.

“She did,” TK says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “How did you spend your last day before having to go back to work?”

“The usual. Laundry, meal prepping— I even managed a workout.”

TK gasps and pouts. “And no sweaty workout selfie for your new husband?”

Carlos rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh. “You’ll live. This will be ready in two minutes. Go have a seat and I’ll bring it in.”

TK grabs two bottles of mineral water from the fridge and takes them to the table and Carlos follows a minute later with two steaming plates laden with food.

They eat together in a comfortable silence, and TK is more than a little giddy everytime Carlos moves and TK catches sight of the ring on his finger. Dinner and cleanup doesn’t take long and they head for the sofa to relax and watch the new episode of Grand Designs.

Carlos takes his favorite spot on the end and TK curls up on his side, his head on Carlos’ lap. Carlos drapes his hand over TK’s shoulder and rests his hand on his chest. TK sighs contentedly as they snuggle.

Laying down was a bad idea TK realizes. He's definitely ready to go to bed. He sneaks a peek at Carlos who’s completely enthralled and looks like he’s one step away from taking notes on paint colors or something and decides to just close his eyes for the commercial break.

The next thing he realizes, he’s being nudged awake. “Hey, come on, let’s go to bed.”

“No, I’m awake! We can finish our show,” TK protests, sitting up.

“You’ve had a long day today, and I’m gonna have a long day tomorrow. Let’s go get some rest.”

“Yeah, okay,” TK agrees.

They stand and together they make their way into the bedroom and crawl under the covers.

Carlos cuddles close, his back pressed to TK’s front and TK curls around him, protectively.

“Wake me before you go to work in the morning.”

“Of course. Good night, husband.”

“Good night, husband,” TK echoes. “Sleep well.”

🩷🩷🩷

Taglist: @chaotictarlos @plaidbooks @meditating-honey-badger @noxsoulmate @tailoredshirt

[tarlosmalec]

I Stay Close, Hold Steady on AO3

When Carlos nods and hauls himself up the stairs, TK stands there and watches him for a minute as a mix of concern and curiosity swirls in his mind. He knew his man had a long shift today from the way his eyes were dim, but he hadn't anticipated this. Carlos only asks him to read something before bed when his head is noisy. TK can't help but wonder what might have happened today and if there's anything he can do to help ease Carlos's burden.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Paper Rings

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, Andrea Reyes, Owen Strand, Paul Strickland, Mateo Chavez

Rating: K

Summary: Five times T.K. and Carlos made progress on their wedding planning and one time they didn't.

Read on AO3

Venue

“Okay,” Owen whispers, darting a glance around the room to make sure no one is listening. “Here’s the plan: I’m going to tell them I have to use the bathroom. While they’re distracted, you sneak out the side door. I’ll get the car and meet you.”

“They have the keys,” Gabriel whispers back. 

Owen thinks for a moment. “We could rush them?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “There are three of them, and they’re faster and stronger than us. We won’t make it.”

Owen sighs. “I guess I’ll have to hot wire it.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” Carlos says from where he, T.K., and Andrea are standing a mere five feet away in the ballroom they’re all checking out as a possible wedding venue.

“Damn it,” Owen mutters before turning toward them, a bright smile on his face. “Oh uh, we were just discussing how beautiful the…sconces are. Right Gabriel?”

“Oh yes,” Gabriel agrees. “Excellent uh, lighting in here. Very…bright.”

“Thanks for the input,” T.K. says with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “That’s definitely our main focus in choosing a wedding venue, good lighting. Right babe?”

“Definitely,” Carlos mock agrees, putting an arm around T.K.’s waist.

“You know, if we’re annoying you, we can leave,” Owen suggests in that voice he uses when he’s pretending to be sincere. 

No one is falling for it.

“Absolutely not,” Andrea says flatly. “I want the two of you where I can see you. Every time you’re together you cause trouble.”

“But wouldn’t it make more sense for you to bring us along to the things we’d be useful at?” Gabriel tries. “We don’t know anything about wedding venues. A barn versus a ballroom? Who cares! Now when the cake tasting rolls around…”

“Yes,” Owen jumps in to agree. “I think we’d be excellent at cake tasting. And very bad at floral arrangements.”

“If you keep dragging us around now we’ll be too tired to help when it really counts,” Gabriel says.

Both of them look hopefully at the rest of the group. Carlos and T.K. exchange a glance while Andrea shakes her head disapprovingly. 

“Look,” Carlos says finally. “We know that looking at wedding venues and researching photographers and addressing invitations—“

“You’re going to make us address invitations?” Owen interrupts in horror.

“Dad!” T.K. sighs, giving him an exasperated look.

“Sorry,” Owen says, holding out a hand to cede the floor back to his son’s fiancé. “Go on Carlos.”

“We know that doing all of this isn’t really your thing,” Carlos continues, ever the peacemaker. “But we want you to be involved.” He looks at T.K. who nods in agreement. “It’s important to us that we do this as a family.”

Owen and Gabriel both deflate a little bit. “Well,” Gabriel says slowly. “I think I liked the second space today better.”

“The vineyard?” Andrea asks.

“No,” Gabriel says. “No the…what do you call it? Homestead?”

“That was number four,” Owen says. “And I agree. You want something with indoor space. No need to invite the elements to ruin your day.”

“Is this even the right size?” Gabriel asks, starting to wander the space. “You need room for the guests spread out.”

“Well we’re keeping it pretty small,” Carlos says. 

“But even still, you need space for food, for dancing, you don’t want your guests tripping all over each other,” Owen says. “And aesthetic wise this carpet would have to go. Do you think we can rent flooring?”

“We’re not renting flooring,” T.K. says, but his words fall on deaf ears as the two men start talking about the building’s structural integrity and clocking the number of fire exits.

T.K. looks at his fiancé an exaggerated grimace on his face. “We made a mistake, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Carlos says.

“Don’t worry. I’ll round them up,” Andrea says, patting Carlos’ shoulder. “Oye! You two! Vengan! No one needs you to check the fire extinguishers, vámonos!”

Suits

“Dude, you cannot wear that to your wedding,” Paul says seriously as he eyes T.K.’s suit.

“Why not?” Mateo asks. “I think he looks dope as hell.”

“Yeah why not?” T.K. asks, brushing off the front of the floral patterned jacket, then turning so he can see the matching pants better in the mirror. “I like it.”

“There is no way Carlos is going to let you wear that,” Paul says with a shake of his head.

T.K. just smiles. “Hey babe?” he calls.

“Yeah?” a reply comes from across the room where they’re separated from Carlos by a curtain. 

“Can I wear a sage green floral suit to the wedding?”

There’s a pause and then, “Whatever makes you happy.”

“See?” T.K. says with a smirk. “He wants me to be happy.”

“Uh huh. Mrs. Reyes?” Paul calls. “When Carlos paused just then, did he make his ‘contemplative, thoughtful face’ or did he make his ‘blank look of long suffering’ face?”

“I have to say it was the latter,” Andrea calls back.

Paul gives T.K. a look and T.K. frowns. “Well if he could just see how great I look in it, he’d probably change his mind,” he says loudly.

“We agreed not to look,” Carlos calls back.

“No you agreed. I was forced to comply,” T.K. mutters. He sighs and looks the suit up and down again. “Maybe for the rehearsal dinner.”

The decision to go together to look for wedding attire had been born out of time constraints and Andrea’s desire to see both men try on suits. Their dads had been fired after the venue fiasco, so they’d each brought along a couple friends and family members to give opinions. The decision not to see each other on the other hand, had been entirely Carlos citing tradition. T.K. wasn’t a fan.

On the other side of the room Carlos examines himself his own mirror. “I think I liked the first one better,” he says.

“Ohhhhhhh my god, just pick a suit, they all look exactly the same,” Francesca whines from where she’s reclining in a chair between their mom and Adriana.

“Cesca!” Andrea scolds. 

“I’d like to remind you that you were not invited to this,” Carlos tells her. She and Adriana had shown up out of the blue, having tracked Andrea’s phone to the tux shop. So despite firing both Owen and Gabriel, they still had unwelcome guests at this appointment. “Unless you’re going to be nice, you can just be quiet.”

“You need opinions,” Adriana says, not looking up from where she’s scrolling her phone. “Tía’s just going to say you look great in everything.”

“Well he does,” Andrea says. “I have beautiful children.”

Carlos snorts and rolls his eyes, then studies himself again. “I’m putting the grey one back on.”

“Ugh!” Adriana and Francesca both groan in displeasure.

On the other side of the curtain, things are looking up. “Now that is a good look,” Paul says when T.K. comes out for the fifth time. 

“Yeah, you think?” T.K. asks, brushing his hands over the three buttons on the vest. This suit is blue, with a light pinstripe running through it, and he’s really liking the look without a jacket.

“You look fly,” Mateo says, giving a low whistle. 

“We could do matching pocket squares,” the store associate who’s been helping them says. “To tie the two suits together.”

T.K. nods and straightens the grey tie around his neck, looking contemplatively at himself. “Carlos!” he calls. “Did you find the one you want?”

“I think so,” Carlos says.

T.K. turns and immediately strides toward the curtain. 

“Whoa, hey! Where are you going?” Mateo asks as he and Paul jump to their feet to follow him. 

“To see Carlos,” T.K. says. 

“But he—“

“T.K. don’t—“

“Babe, I’m coming over!”

Carlos has about three seconds to react before T.K. comes through the curtain. “T.K.!” he cries, spinning away with a hand over his eyes. 

“I’m not looking!” T.K. calls back. 

There’s a shuffling sound and then a small thump and Andrea says, “T.K.! Cuidado mijo!”

Seconds later Carlos feels someone press up against him until they’re standing fully back-to-back, familiar fingers sliding between his own. “Hi,” T.K. says.

“Hi.” Carlos fights back a smile. “We said no looking.”

“I know, but someone needs to see how the suits look together,” T.K. says. “My eyes are closed, I promise.”

“Paul?” Carlos asks.

“He’s telling the truth,” Paul confirms. “Almost killed himself getting up on that pedestal with his hand over his eyes.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carlos tells him. 

“And you love it,” T.K. says, squeezing Carlos’ fingers. “So?” he says to the rest of the group. “How do we look?”

“Extremely stupid,” Adriana says immediately. “But also hot.”

“Yeah you look great together,” Mateo says.

“Mom?” Carlos asks, but he doesn’t get a response.

“She can’t talk, she’s crying,” Francesca says on her behalf. “It’s just suits ma! You’ve seen them both in suits before!”

“But not their wedding suits,” Andrea finally says in a watery voice. “My boys, you’re really getting married.”

They really are. 

Cake

“And so THEN I said that we should probably find a different way to get him out, but Nancy said we should keep trying…”

Carlos listens to his fiancé ramble on at a mile a minute as they walk toward the next bakery on their list. They’ve already been to three today and T.K. is so hopped up on sugar that he hasn’t stopped talking in over ten minutes. 

Carlos is also feeling a little bit over-sugared; they should have taken his mom’s advice to spread these out over a couple days, but he’d wanted to get it checked off his list and today was the only day they were both free during regular business hours for the next two weeks. 

“And can you believe he wrote that song in a single day and then recorded it, I mean it’s unbelievable—“

He’s still reeling from their first three appointments; the first place had wanted $600 for a basic cake plus more for anything custom, the second had tasted stale and flavorless, and the third had been good, but the owners had rushed them through the appointment, giving both Carlos and T.K. a bad vibe. 

“Maybe I should just bake it,” he says, interrupting the flow of T.K.’s tangent, which has moved onto something about a meteor shower next week.

T.K. pauses for a moment and shakes his head. “I knew this was going to happen.”

“Knew what was going to happen?” Carlos asks.

“I knew that you were going to get all picky and not like any of the cakes we tasted,” T.K. says.

“Be honest, have you ever had a good wedding cake?” Carlos asks. “They’re always dry and tasteless and it seems like a huge waste of money. We could put it toward our honeymoon instead.”

“Baby,” T.K. stops walking and takes both of Carlos’ hands in his. “It’s not that I don’t think you could bake a wedding cake. It’s that I don’t think you could bake our wedding cake.”

Carlos just raises an eyebrow and waits for T.K. to explain his cryptic statement. 

“I love you,” he starts and Carlos rolls his eyes. “But I also know you. And I think, that in the days leading up to our wedding, you might start to feel a little…stressed. I really don’t think you want the added responsibility of baking a cake for a hundred people, do you?”

Carlos’ shoulders slump. “No. But what we’ve seen so far today isn’t very promising.”

“Well then we’ll just have to keep trying,” T.K. says as he loops his arm through Carlos’ and starts walking again. “I will selflessly commit to visiting every bakery in this city until we find you the perfect wedding cake.”

Carlos laughs. “You just want more cake.”

“Eh, that’s just a perk,” T.K. tells him with a wink, pulling open the next bakery’s door.

The space is bright, and modern, display cakes placed artfully around the room. “Hi,” the woman behind the counter says brightly. “Are you Carlos and T.K.?”

The appointment goes perfectly. The designs are unique but within their price range, the owner, Katie, is beyond helpful and takes her time, and everything they try is so good they struggle to choose a favorite. They leave two hours later with signed paperwork and an additional box of cake samples to take home. 

“See?” T.K. says. “Told you we’d find one. I get to have a wedding free of cake stress, and you get to check something else off your list. It’s a win-win.”

“I should never have doubted you,” Carlos says.

Engagement Photos

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” T.K. calls as he rushes into the loft, hurling his bag to the floor and kicking off his shoes into a haphazard heap. 

A last minute call had put them well into overtime and he knew that his fiancé was going to be sweating his late arrival since they were now fifteen minutes late for their engagement photo session. 

“I just have to jump in the shower and then I’ll be ready, ten minutes tops, I sw—“

The rest of his assurances die on his lips as he enters their bedroom and finds Carlos laying out his clothes on the bed. “Hi,” T.K. says, eyes slowly looking his fiancé up and down.

Carlos has on dark jeans and a grey button down, a narrow tie completing the look. His curls are artfully tousled the way T.K. likes them best and he smells incredible. He’s hot, and judging by the look in his eyes, he knows it.

“Hi,” Carlos says, a small smirk quirking his lips as he straightens up and leans over to give T.K. a peck on the lips.

“You uh, you look great,” T.K. tells him.

“Thanks,” Carlos says. “You look like hell.”

“Long shift,” T.K. tells him, feeling the weight of it in his bones. He’s not actually sure how he’s going to muster up the energy to smile for six hundred photos, but this is important to Carlos and Andrea, so he’s going to figure it out. 

Carlos reaches out and touches a spot behind T.K.’s ear. “Is this blood?”

T.K. winces and pulls back. “Yeah last guy was a gusher. Took us forever to get the rig cleaned out, that’s part of why I’m so late.” He pauses and cocks his head. Carlos looks calm and assured, not frantic the way he’d thought he would be. “Speaking of which, why aren’t you freaking out? If we don’t get these done today we won’t have them in time for our save-the-dates.”

“I already called and asked if Maria could push us a half an hour. She said it was no problem,” Carlos says. 

T.K. feels himself sag in relief. “Have I mentioned that you are the best fiancé in the entire universe?” he asks.

“Mmm I think maybe once or twice,” Carlos says, running a hand over T.K.’s hair and cupping his face. “But I like hearing it. And you don’t need to keep apologizing, it’s not your fault that your shift ran long. It happens.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to think this isn’t important to me,” T.K. tells him. “I know I wasn’t initially very…open about engagement photos.”

In fact he still thinks they’re kind of stupid. But Carlos and Andrea really want them, and he’ll do anything to make Carlos happy, even if it means getting dressed up and fake smiling for two hours.

“I know you care,” Carlos says. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Well I’m still going to make it up to you later,” T.K. tells him, tugging gently at his tie.

“Oh, I fully intend to let you,” Carlos says, eyes going a little dark. Then he puts his hands on T.K.’s shoulders and turns him toward the bathroom. “Now go shower.”

“Love you!” T.K. calls over his shoulder.

“Love you too!”

Gift Registration

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

“Oh my god, please stop,” Carlos says, taking hold of T.K.’s wrist to prevent him from scanning yet another random item. “This isn’t laser tag.”

“But it’s fun,” T.K. tells him as he breaks Carlos’ hold and spins around to zap another box, effectively registering them for a decorative glass swan that Carlos immediately removes from their list via his phone. He’s also had to remove an industrial cappuccino maker, a box of tampons, five XXL t-shirts, and a cotton candy machine in the last fifteen minutes alone. When he’d suggested they go register for some wedding gifts, he clearly hadn’t thought through the childlike joy that a hand held scanner would give his fiancé. 

“So what exactly do we think is the limit on what people will buy for us?” T.K. asks as he scans a set of dinner plates with little flowers on them.

“I’m pretty sure a Maserati or a Lambo are probably off the table,” Carlos says with a wry smile. 

“You’re the one with the car fetish babe, not me,” T.K. tells him, smiling when Carlos immediately looks around to see if anyone heard him.

“It’s not a fetish,” Carlos replies, his voice low. “It’s just an appreciation for fine machinery.” He immediately realizes his mistake and tries to correct. “T.K. don’t—“

“I appreciate your fine machinery,” T.K. says with a grin, setting the scanner on a shelf so he can slide his hands into Carlos’ back pockets and tug him closer as his fiancé rolls his eyes. 

“You just can’t pass up an opportunity to be a flirt, can you?” Carlos asks.

“I really can’t,” T.K. says, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Seriously though, we don’t need any of this stuff. We already have towels and pots and pans and champagne glasses.”

“It might be nice to upgrade some of our things,” Carlos says, picking up a box. “Marlon Blendo the Second?”

“Can’t we just tell everyone to give us cash?” T.K. asks as they wander down another aisle where he immediately zaps a dog bed shaped like a cheeseburger. 

“I think that’s probably frowned upon,” Carlos says. 

“We’re a cop and a paramedic. We don’t need…” T.K. taps a box close to him, “a breadmaker. We need to pay our bills.”

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” Carlos says dryly. He looks around the store. “I think we’re done here, right? We can go home and look online.”

“But I want to scan more stuff,” T.K. says, pointing the scanner at a pink and purple unicorn bean bag chair. 

“What if I buy you boba on the way home?”

T.K. raises his eyebrows. “Are you bribing me like a toddler?”

“Bribery, love, is there really a difference?” Carlos teases. 

T.K. considers this for a moment, then sets the scanner down. “Fine. But I’m getting a large.”

Invitations

“Mom I don’t think—No I’m not! We said we—“

T.K. listens from the couch as Carlos switches between English and Spanish. He’s been quietly arguing with his mom for nearly half an hour and he looks spent. He’s run his hands through his curls so many times that they’re sticking up all over the place and his forehead is pinched tightly in the middle, creating a V over the top of his glasses. 

“I’ll ask T.K. No, Mom, that’s it. I’ll talk to him. Okay. Okay. Adiós.”

Carlos hangs up and sighs, letting his head flop forward onto the table. 

“You okay?” T.K. asks when he doesn’t get up.

“My mom wants to add ten more people to the guest list,” Carlos says, his voice muffled by the stack of invitations he’s mashed his face into. “Three family friends, my great aunt and uncle, and five cousins from New York.”

T.K. frowns. “I didn’t know you had any family in New York.”

Carlos lifts his head, a look of long suffering on his face. “I didn’t either. I’ve never even met them. So I don’t know why my mom thinks they should be invited to our wedding. We told her we wanted to keep the guest list small, but this is the third time she’s called this week and I—“

“Hey,” T.K. stands and joins him at the table, rubbing a hand over his back. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s not usually like this. She’s turning into some kind of Mom-zilla.”

“She’s excited. She wants to show you off.”

Carlos still looks miserable. “I didn’t know that weddings were this much work. When my sisters got married I just kind of showed up.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” T.K. suggests. “It’s late, all the wedding stress will still be there in the morning.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Carlos sighs, looking down at the stack of invitations in front of him. When he looks up again his face has gone from exhausted to something that T.K. can’t quite interpret. “Marry me.”

T.K. blinks a couple times. “Pretty sure that’s what we’re already doing babe.”

“Marry me now,” Carlos says, and there’s a tinge of desperation in his tone.

T.K. checks his watch. “At 10:37pm? I don’t think there’s anywhere to get married right now, except for Vegas. And that’s a really long drive. You’ll be late for work tomorrow.”

“I don’t care,” Carlos says, looking a little manic . “I don’t care about any of it. I just want to marry you.”

It’s so genuine and sweet and T.K. feels his heart melt a little bit, even though he knows Carlos very much does care and that’s how they’ve gotten here in the first place. 

“Let’s go to city hall tomorrow,” he continues, reaching for T.K.’s hands. “We don’t need flowers or favors or…or…or save the dates. We just need each other, right? That’s all that matters?”

“Yes,” T.K. says with a soft smile. “That’s all that matters.”

Carlos sags in relief. “You really don’t care about the rest of it?”

“Carlos I proposed to you in the middle of the night without a ring, of course I don’t care,” T.K. says, running his thumb soothingly over the back of Carlos’ hand. He chooses his next words carefully. “But baby, I think you do.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything, he just sits staring down at his lap in defeat, so T.K. continues. “You’ve worked so hard on all of this and it’s going to be amazing. We don’t need it, but we deserve to have an awesome wedding that our friends and family can be a part of. And if you wake up tomorrow morning and decide you still don’t care, then I will run down to city hall with you the minute they open the doors.” He pauses. “But remember that your mom will murder us. And then Marjan will bring us back and murder us again. So our wedded bliss will be short lived.”

“I’m just so tired,” Carlos says, looking defeated. “I don’t know if I can deal with six more months of this.”

“Then let me help,” T.K. tells him. “I will call your mom tomorrow and work out the guest list, okay? And we can divide up whatever else is on your list to get done this week.”

Relief washes over Carlos’ face and he leans forward, wrapping a hand around the back of T.K.’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” T.K. says, their faces still only millimeters apart. “Do you want to get ready for bed?”

Carlos nods and hums an affirmative, leaning in and brushing their lips together again and then again.

T.K. smiles against him, acutely aware of the half lidded, familiar look in Carlos’ eyes. “Is me taking over wedding duties a turn on?”

Carlos nods and kisses T.K. a little more firmly this time.

“So not actually bed then?”

Carlos shakes his head and gently pulls T.K. to his feet. No more invitations are addressed that night. 

[noxsoulmate]

❄️🎄 Welcome to Noxy's Tarlos Winter Season 🎄❄️

Ship: Tarlos | Fandom: 911 Lone Star | Author: noxsoulmate | Read on ao3

Word Count: 11755 | Rating: General Audience | Warnings/Tags: Christmas, Hanukkah, Christmas fluff, Hanukkah fluff, decorations, baking, fluff, domestic fluff, married couple, married life, hurt TK, Carlos takes care of TK, Jewish TK, family feels, family fluff, Andrea is the best, soft Carlos/TK, mention of addiction, cuddling & snuggling | Art made by: @chaotictarlos ���� | written for @whenshereads ❄️

Summary:

After yet another stay at the hospital, the thing TK is most upset about is missing out on all he and Carlos had planned for their first Christmas-Hanukkah season as a married couple. He should’ve known better than to think his husband wasn’t prepared…

❄️🎄 Read on ao3 🎄❄️

This story was written for

@tarlos-santa, written for @whenshereads and the prompts:

Recovery fic with TK recovering and Carlos supporting (in hospital, follow-up therapy/appts) from one of his NDEs or a new one & First Hanukkah/Christmas together in the loft—Carlos reflecting on their journey and where they are headed

@tarlosmonthlyprompts December #2: “Is there a reason it looks like a Hanukkah and Christmas store throw-up in our loft?”

@tarlosweeklyprompts 12 Days of Tarlos: Decorating the Christmas Tree I Baking Holiday Cookies Together I Blending Traditions I First Holiday where they’re married

@mfbingo Christmas Edition Square 4: “You know the rules.”

@911bingo Square I1: Flood

Tagging List: @chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @sapphire11, @bubblesandroses8, @first-kanaphan, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @otter-love-asl, @tarlos-spain, @ramblingdisaster73, @tarlossource

If you want to be added to my tagging list, send me an ask or poke me on discord.

[guardian-angle22]

TK/Carlos + Touch

↳ 2.07 Displaced

[watmalik]

Ummm, ok. I see you my little Gordon Ramsay protégée

#TK CAN COOK

[nqueso-emergency]

sorry if this ask is repetitive, but i want to highlight something else about the possibility of them fleshing tommy’s character more.

first, let me say some to the point reasons that explain why i think the issues they face will take largely into context tommy’s past:

-we know buck. this is a chance for us to get to know tommy more.

-bringing past issues would be repetitive. ie the cheating and lucy and taylor SL with Buck.

-buck is our main character. we will be following him during this time. it wouldn’t make sense for us to follow him if he’s just waiting for tommy to process how he feels. it makes more sense if we see buck being the one to do so, first by talking to his close people, and then (hopefully) learning how to navigate that with tommy.

so. with all of that out of the way.

we are in season 8. i know some people believe ABC can try to milk 911 for a lot more seasons, but I honestly don’t see it. A few more sure, but 911 won’t be another Grey’s imo. So. Why take precious time in Season 8 to develop a character, if the intention is not to let him be there long term?

And I know the main argument will be Taylor and the storyline with her Dad and how she was still gone after that. And I will say, that was a good attempt from the writers to get us to care about her and the relationship with Buck more. But they never were that popular together, and Taylor was overall disliked (personally, I didn’t dislike her. But I do think Buck and her weren’t a perfect match), and not in a Tommy way. Most people still were upset at her for what she did to Bobby.

Long story short: Season 8, with Oliver expressing he wants Buck to have more domestic storylines and to, essentially, stop having short relationships in the series + tim agreeing and making an effort to make buck’s next LI one that could work (related to the first responder world, can interact outside of buck, good chemistry, we can invest) + lou embodying that to perfection and winning over a good portion of the fandom & the GA + Tim losing Tarlos after LS ends and there is BT, who is the only unmarried couple in 911 rn and thus, is a whole new playground for him…

Giving Tommy a background is very much intentional.

Thiiissss

[actualalligator]

Eventually, I'm going to write the beginning of my TK/Carlos DD relationship with s1e3 where Carlos tells TK instead that he's not sure he's ever seen anybody who needs to be taken in hand as much as TK does. A sore backside might just fix him right up. 😘

[sageandred]

no, you don't understand. Tarlos are a loving, domesticated couple who knew they were soulmates from the first night they hooked up. They traded a one-night stand for the promise of forever that developed gradually over time and they said, hi nice to meet you and drove it home to "marry me" & "i do". For gays on a primetime network, no one was doing it like them. By the standard of queer storylines at that point and the pace at which they were going, they would've either been background or broken up by now. Thank god & Tim Minear & that they took note from the fans.

[loulovingho]

In the spirit of positivity, how do you think Buck and Tommy say I love you for the first time? 🥰 Feel free to send this ask to others 💕

Ohhhh I kinda have a fear that we won’t get to see their first I love you, because if I remember correctly we didn’t get to see the tarlos one on lonestar but…

There’s no big moment, no grand gesture, that happens. Buck is just at Tommy’s place. They’re doing their own things while sharing space on the couch. Tommy’s legs are in Buck’s lap. Buck is looking up recipes on his phone when the domesticity of it all hits him. He looks around at the comfort of the home, catches a glimpse of Tommy (who’s invested in his monster truck magazine), and pats Tommy’s leg. Tommy places the magazine on his chest and gives Buck a “hm?” To which Buck looks him in the eyes and says “I’m in love with you.” Tommy’s a little caught off guard. He sits up, says, “I’m sorry. What?” And Buck repeats it, no doubt in his voice. “I am in love with you, Tommy. I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

Before he even has a chance to tell Tommy that he doesn’t have to say it back, Tommy is maneuvering himself so he’s on his knees, pressed against Buck’s side, one hand under the chin as he goes in for a kiss. When he pulls back his eyes are red and watery as he replies, “I am so in love with you, Evan. Have been for a while. I love you so damn much.”

They forget the recipes and the magazine after that, with Buck taking Tommy’s hand and leading them to the bedroom.