#Tarlos coda

[chaotictarlos]

Dreamy Officer Reyes and his nincompoop sidekick

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

rating: explicit | warnings/tags: 4 x 11 Spoilers, 4 x 11 "Double Trouble" Ridiculous smut, Carlos and TK roleplaying, M x M smut, Oral Sex, Jerking off, bad dirty talk, face riding, ass eating m x m sex, fun sex, silly sex, lots of laughing

summary: Carlos and TK have some roleplay fun.

author's note: this fic is the full fault of @kiloskywalker. Is it the best smut I've written? No. But it was so fun. I couldn't take myself or TK and Carlos seriously as I wrote this. I hope it's as enjoyable to read as it was to write. ANd yes, TK rolls his eyes an absurd amount of times but who wouldn't in this situation? It's funny. It's a fun fic. I hope you all enjoy it. Comments are always appreciated and nice to get!

Thank you @noxsoulmate for beta'ing this for me!

Check out my other season 4 fics!

---

“Dude that’s crazy!” TK hears Nancy explain as he and Carlos walk into the fire station. Carlos has the day off so he thought he’d tag along and get in some much needed fiancé time - they’d both had been working so much to pay for the wedding and the honeymoon that will follow that they haven’t had much time to just be together.

TK plops down on one of the comfy chairs in front of Mateo while Carlos grabs the one beside him and immediately puts a hand on TK’s thigh.

TK smiles at Carlos before turning his attention to Mateo and Nancy.

“What’s crazy?” TK asks, always up for a fun story.

“Mateo was just telling me about the dream he had when he hit himself on the head the other day,” Nancy says. “It’s wild.”

Mateo nods. “Yeah, like it was my past but in a sitcom way, and people I know now replaced my actual family.”

“Was I in it?” TK asks. He always likes to know when he’s in people’s dreams and what weird things they dream of him doing.

“Yeah! You were a cop and Carlos’ nincompoop sidekick,” Mateo says with a laugh.

TK frowns. “I’m not a nincompoop! I’d do great as a cop.”

“No offense, man, but no,” Mateo says. “The entire time in my dream you were licking your lips and swaying around. I don’t think you knew what you were doing.”

“That’s because you dreamed it. Had it been me I would have gotten the job done,” TK looks over at Carlos. “Tell them, babe. I would make a good cop or detective! I found you when you got kidnapped.”

Carlos lets out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused look on his face. “I don’t know. I kinda like having you as my sidekick. My little nincompoop.”

TK just stares at him, mostly because he can’t believe that Carlos said the word nincompoop.

“Unbelievable.”

“It would be fun! I could whip you into shape.” Carlos winks at him. “You’d learn a lot from me.”

TK rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, pouting at them as they continue to talk about the dream and nincompoop TK.

--

TK has learned to expect the unexpected when he comes home on days that Carlos doesn’t work. His fiancé always seems to be up to something and most of the time this something has to do with sexy times - especially lately when they haven’t had many shifts that lined up together - and tonight’s not any different. When he walks into the loft, the first thing he notices is Carlos casually leaning against the counter in a police uniform, drinking coffee.

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tags: @strangefurychaos @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @noxsoulmate @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @importantbailiffpaperpony @cowlos-reyes @meditating-honey-badger @paperstorm @otter-love-asl @kiloskywalker @angeltk

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @ironheartwriter @whatsintheboxmh @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlossreaders

@bonheur-cafe @strandnreyes @paperstorm

Today is hard and scary and I'm so sorry and I love you. I wish I had some wise words but at the moment the only thing I have up my sleeve is our two favourite idiots 🧡 I hope this snippet of my TK POV 4x12 coda brings you some cheer. Planning to post tomorrow.

Three hours later, Carlos is scurrying around the living room, picking up what they’ve already knocked over and knocking other things down in the process. Meanwhile, TK has been tasked with searching the bedroom for the fifth time.

“He’s not under the bed!” TK yells, “I can confirm – he’s not in the sex toys.”

“Good!” Carlos hollers, lifting up a throw pillow and jumping out of his skin even though nothing is there.

“We should use the purple plug more often,” TK calls.

“Okay!”

“And the rainbow beads. I know they’re gimmicky–”

“Sure, anything you want.”

“I’ve been thinking about your foreskin lately and how sensitive you–”

“TK, I really can’t talk about this right now!” Carlos cries, spinning around at the sound of scuttling. “I think he’s in the kitchen!”

“On my way!” TK yells, struggling to secure the lid onto their very-full toy box before rushing out of the bedroom.

Carlos, armed with a Swiffer mop, is poking at the gap between refrigerator and cupboard.

TK joins him there, poised with his hands out, ready to pounce.

They stand still, silent.

“I don’t hear anything,” TK whispers.

Carlos gazes all around with a haunted expression. “Neither do I anymore.”

Open tag and tags below!:

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @goodways @reyesstrand

@lightningboltreader @welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@alrightbuckaroo @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos

@ladytessa74 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @liminalmemories21

@never-blooms @orchidscript @three-drink-amy

@chicgeekgirl89 @freneticfloetry @theghostofashton @honeybee-taskforce

@sugdenlovesdingle @tellmegoodbye @carlos-tk

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @irispurpurea

@pimento-playing-hopscotch @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@captain-gillian @butchreyes @kiwichaeng @anactualcaseofthetruth

@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @corsage @nisbanisba

@the-126-family @henrygrass @nancys-braids @mikibwrites - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

Happy (Seven Sentence) Sunday !!! Thank you @heartstringsduet @ironheartwriter @nisbanisba for the tags! <3 <3

This is actually very close to seven sentences hehe, and is from a 5x05 coda that is unsurprisingly turning long and introspective and also suddenly containing an over the top amount of sea and boat metaphors over which I had no control. Here’s to manifesting that it’ll actually be finished at some point soon🤞🏻👀

His parents had been crashing waves of passion, and a sea of love so deep it felt impossible that they were suddenly stranded in the shallows, hitting rock bottom. At least for a seven year old mind who couldn't grasp all the details. At seven, to TK it had felt like waves that turned suddenly loud, dangerous, nauseating and then out of nowhere they stilted. Suddenly the way they looked at each other was so... eerily neutral, the same with their tones when they sat him down and explained that they were getting a divorce. None of the banter, or the over-the top PDA or even the fight was there anymore. And TK, at seven, felt like he was suddenly drifting along in his own little boat, watching it happen, wondering why the three of them weren’t together in the rolling waves of love and laughter that gave tummy aches.

(As always) OPEN TAG for anyone who wants to play,

And ✨No Pressure✨ tags under the cut:

(I have taken the liberty to add a few to the list who I know play or who I see around and who have interacted with my wip posts before - please lmk if you want to be removed or added to the list :) !!!)

@welcometololaland @firstprince-history-huh @lemonlyman-dotcom @lightningboltreader

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @never-blooms @carlos-in-glasses @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos

@carlos-tk @alrightbuckaroo @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes

@captain-gillian @goldenskykaysani @rmd-writes @your-catfish-friend

@nancys-braids @emsprovisions @thoughtsickles @nisbanisba

@ironheartwriter @corsage @whatsintheboxmh @goodways

@the-126-family @meditating-honey-badger @chicgeekgirl89 @theghostofashton

@freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 @carlossreaders @literateowl

@dramalets @reyesstrand @lonestardust @lutavero

@tkslittlesway @loustyleshtommo @mrs-corrections-78 @sapphic--kiwi

@tellmegoodbye @decafdino

[chicgeekgirl89]

Summary: After the gas cloud dissipates, Carlos and T.K. go home and Carlos starts to realize just how much his work interfering with his life.

Read on AO3

Carlos had never realized exactly how much a person can say with a hug until he fell in love with T.K. Strand. Before that, hugs had just been a quick way to say hello or give a little comfort to someone else. Truly, as an adult, the only people he really hugged were his mom, his sisters, and his niece and nephew. Now hugs are one of the top five ways of finding out what his husband is feeling.

Hugs from T.K. Strand can be put into the following categories:

Happy Hugs- Tight, but squishy, sometimes a little bouncy and they don’t tend to last very long because T.K. usually has things to say to go along with them.

Silly Hugs- T.K. flopping as much of his body onto Carlos as humanly possible and smothering him with his weight. If they’re upright this results in lot of staggering around and potentially falling to the floor, if they’re on the couch or in bed then Carlos is usually smashed flat into the horizontal surface. T.K. considers it a bonus if he can do it while wet, dirty, smelly, or naked and make Carlos squirm in discomfort.

Worried Hugs- Fast, quick squeezes of reassurance that are over within seconds because T.K. needs to run his hands over Carlos and check for injuries; physical and emotional. 

Tired Hugs- Floppy, boneless, short and usually followed by T.K. requesting that Carlos shower or come to bed with him. Sometimes the latter part can be circumvented by the promise of food.

Sexy Hugs- These involve the running of T.K.’s hands up Carlos’ chest first, before he loops them around his neck. This type of hug is accompanied by a lot of kissing and grinding until Carlos gives T.K. what he wants.

I Almost Died Today Hugs- Carlos hates these hugs. T.K. sags into him, like he can barely hold himself up anymore and needs Carlos to take over. He smushes his face into Carlos’ neck and exhales and clings on so incredibly tight. There have been too many of these in the short time they’ve known each other, more than anyone should have to endure.

It’s the last kind that Carlos gets when T.K. and Tommy come through the front door of Tommy’s house and it immediately makes him worry. He’d known that they were in a tenuous situation out there with the train crash and the gas cloud, but it isn’t until T.K. basically collapses in his arms that he understands without words that he almost lost everything today. 

He holds on tightly, aware that they have an audience, some of whom are very young and don’t need to realize the danger that almost made them orphans today. So he says nothing, instead rubbing his hand up and down, trying to soothe away the fear and exhaustion he can feel eking out of his husband’s bones. 

He cups T.K.’s cheek in his hand when they pull apart, searching his eyes. “You okay?” he asks.

T.K. nods wordlessly and then their attention is pulled to the awkward situation happening around them. Carlos doesn’t envy the conversation Tommy and Trevor are about to have, so they make their excuses and head out.

By the time Carlos has stowed his things in the back of the Camaro, T.K. is already in the passenger seat, head tipped back, eyes closed. Carlos buckles his seatbelt and looks over at his husband. “Do you want to talk about it?”

T.K. shakes his head without opening his eyes. “Not yet.”

“Are you hungry? Do you want to pick something up?”

Another shake. “I just want to go home.”

He turns his left palm upward, a silent request, and Carlos obliges, slotting the fingers of his right hand into place. T.K. has already put his ring back on after work and Carlos can feel it tucked in between his fingers, a reassurance that whatever happened today, they are still here and things are okay.

They pull out of the driveway, Carlos steering with one hand. “Was Trevor at the house when you got there?” T.K. asks.

“He was,” Carlos says. “I guess he wasn’t supposed to be.”

“Did he tell you about what’s going on with him and Tommy?”

“He did.” Carlos keeps his voice mild despite the concern swirling inside of him. He’s not sure he really wants to hear how close he came to becoming a widower today, but T.K. will need to process it eventually and he’s more likely to spill how he’s feeling if he thinks Carlos isn’t freaking out. “Quite an ultimatum he laid down.”

“Almost as bad as a secret wife.” T.K. turns his head and finally opens his eyes, the ghost of a teasing smile on his face.

“Almost,” Carlos says with a chuckle. “Do you think Tommy���s going to do it? Meet with Trevor’s ex?”

T.K. shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably. Tommy talks a big talk, but when it comes down to it, she’s a mom. I think she gets it. She’ll want to try and make it work. And after today…I think she knows what she wants her priorities to be.”

After today. It’s an opening and Carlos waits, letting the opportunity to talk sit comfortably between them so that T.K. can choose to take it if he wants to. It turns out he does.

“We were trapped in a school,” he says, his voice quiet, hand still holding onto Carlos’. “We weren’t supposed to be there, but there was a missing woman and the gas cloud was coming and Tommy wouldn’t leave her behind. She told us to go, but we didn’t.”

“You couldn’t leave her alone,” Carlos says in understanding. 

“No. We couldn’t.”

There’s a moment of quiet. “Did you find the woman?” Carlos asks curiously.

“She died.” T.K.’s voice is flat and Carlos feels a stab of sympathy. “It was…awful. A terrible way to go.”

Carlos hears the words T.K. doesn’t say: he watched a woman die a horrific death and thought he and two of the people he loves most in the world were next. Carlos squeezes his husband’s hand in reassurance before raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to his wedding ring. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

T.K. leans his head back against the seat. “Me too.” He’s quiet for a moment and then, “I used a fan.”

Carlos thinks he misheard. “A what?”

“A fan. There was a fan in the classroom and when the gas started coming in I turned it on to try and blow it away.”

Carlos bites the inside of his cheek. “You thought a fan was going to save you all from a giant cloud of toxic gas?”

“Well it sounds dumb when you say it like that!” T.K. huffs indignantly. “It was all we had Carlos!”

“Maybe you all could have just started blowing really hard. Feels like it would have had the same effect.”

“I hate you,” T.K. says grumpily, but he doesn’t let go of Carlos’ hand and the tension that was clinging to him seems to have shaken loose.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says, keeping his tone light and teasing. “I’m sure you and your fan did a great job.”

“Damn right we did,” T.K. grumbles, shifting to get more comfortable. “You’d better be nice to me or the next time you want something blown I might say no.”

“Really?” Carlos throws T.K. an amused look. “You love blowing me. You’d last five minutes.”

“Longer than you’d last with my mouth on you,” T.K. shoots back, a wicked smirk on his face.

The car falls into comfortable silence and a minute later T.K.’s fingers go limp. Carlos glances over and finds T.K.’s head is leaning against the window, cheek smushed adorably into the glass. He smiles and curls his fingers a little more tightly so their hands don’t slip apart.

When he pulls the Camaro into its parking spot he cuts the engine and speaks softly, trying not to startle his husband. “Hey, we’re home babe.”

T.K. blinks awake and looks at him, eyes slightly unfocused. “Did I fall asleep?”

Carlos nods. “Just for a few minutes.”

T.K. groans and stretches as much as the confines of the car will allow. “Almost dying really takes it out of you.”

“Come on. Let’s get you upstairs. Everything will feel better once we’re home.”

When they’re inside Carlos sends T.K. to shower while he heats up some soup from the freezer and throws together a small salad. “I’m really not hungry,” T.K. says when he returns, bundled up in a hoodie to fight against the chill of the air conditioning.

“I know,” Carlos says, cupping the back of his neck and pressing a kiss to his damp hair. He smells like soap and shampoo. “But you need to eat something.”

They sit at the table, T.K. slowly making his way through the bowl, one spoonful at a time while Carlos pulls out yet another file, this one about a murder his father worked for six months in 2003. He already went through four files at Tommy’s house tonight, he doesn’t need to keep looking. It’s more of a habit than anything else at this point, or maybe a compulsion. When he has downtime he looks. One of these days, all of that looking is going to pay off, he knows it. And the faster he gets through these files, the faster that payoff will come.

T.K. doesn’t give him a pointed look or ask him to put the files away. He doesn’t say much of anything really, just eats two thirds of his meal before pushing the bowl away. Carlos looks up at the sound of the porcelain sliding across the table. “Do you want something else? I can make you a sandwich. Or there’s a little bit of pasta left from the other night.”

T.K. shakes his head. “I think I’m going to go to bed. Are you coming?”

Carlos checks his watch. It’s already after eleven. He has work tomorrow, it would probably be smart to curl up beside his husband and get a decent amount of sleep tonight. “Let me just finish up with this case and then I’ll be in. Twenty minutes tops.”

T.K. opens his mouth and then closes it without saying anything, his shoulders slumping a little. He looks small tonight, vulnerable in a way that hurts Carlos’ heart. Carlos almost closes the folder in his hands and gets up. He almost wraps his husband in his arms and whispers how much he loves him, reassures him that he’s safe, that they’re alive and together. He almost pulls him into the bedroom and makes soft love to him until he forgets the horrors he saw today.

But before he can do any of that T.K. turns and walks away and it feels like something between them shifts a little bit in a way that Carlos can’t quite figure out. And then he looks down at the file again and sees a name he recognizes from another case and he’s no longer at home finishing up work for the night, he’s digging deep into the past until his neck aches and his eyes feel gritty. When he finally looks blearily at his phone it doesn’t say eleven twenty pm but one forty-seven am and he feels a shock that so much time has passed without him realizing it.

He hastily puts things away and cleans up the now cold soup bowl, leaving it in the sink for the morning before quickly brushing his teeth and pulling off his clothes for bed.

The light on his side of the bed is still on. T.K. must have left it for him, thinking he’d be in soon. Or maybe just hoping he would be. Carlos can’t actually remember the last time they went to bed together. It’s been…weeks probably. 

The realization disturbs him. T.K. had a terrible day, he should have been in here comforting him, not working an impossible case that he’s completely lost on. But he’s here now, he tells himself. T.K. could have asked if he needed Carlos to be with him.

Usually when he climbs into bed, T.K. instinctively rolls toward him, even if he doesn’t wake fully. But tonight T.K. stays firmly on his side, almost on the edge of the mattress. Carlos’ side feels colder than normal and there’s an odd ache in his heart that he can’t figure out, almost like he needs to cry, but the tears won’t come. 

He shifts his body closer to T.K.’s, sliding a hand over his hip until he’s spooning against his back, but T.K. still doesn’t stir. He’s got his airpods in and when Carlos cranes his neck he can see that T.K.’s moody playlist is on. That makes him feel like total shit. T.K. was hurting tonight and instead of asking Carlos for help he’d come in here and wallowed in his sadness alone. 

Carlos closes his eyes and swallows around the lump in his throat. He knows he’s been drowning himself in work lately. He knows it’s taking a toll on him and that he hasn’t been the best husband.

He’ll be better, he promises silently to himself and to T.K. in the dark and quiet safety of their bed. He’ll leave the office on time tomorrow night. They can have dinner together, maybe watch the new episode of Only Murders in the Building or Secret Lives of Mormon Wives because he knows how much T.K. loves trashy reality TV and he’s heard some chatter around the office that it’s fun in a horrifying kind of way. 

Tomorrow, he thinks as he begins to drift. Tomorrow he will hold his husband in a tight hug that means “I love you, I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re safe, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” and kiss him and love him the way he deserves. Tomorrow he will start trying to fix what he suspects he’s been slowly breaking for months. 

But the problem with tomorrow is that by the time it arrives, you often forget the promises you made yesterday.

[honeybee-taskforce]

I need somethin' soft, down feathers over rocks

a 5x01 coda, M, 1.7k

~

Six months ago, Carlos made a phone call. The first of many.

Carlos imagines so many different scenarios, one where he comes home early to surprise TK with dinner cooked and a hug, another where he calls off work and lays in bed with his husband on their impromptu day off together, all sorts of different nights and ways that they can spend their time together. TK fighting with him over the control of the remote turns into a tickle fight and then some, TK berating Carlos for trying a new shampoo because now he smells “off”. So many nights together.  Instead, they might spend the night apart for the first time since TK had moved into the loft. 

read on A03 here.

[livelaughbuck]

5x03 Tarlos Coda

TK's exhausted from the day, and he's grateful Carlos is driving them home. He rests his head against his seat and dozes as they move through the quiet streets back to their loft.

TK loves and hates living so to downtown Austin. Being close to the nightlife, restaurants, and coffee shops is great, but after a long day he wishes for the quiet neighborhood where he lived with his father.

He feels Carlos' hand on his shoulder and he opens his eyes to see they're in the parking garage of their building. Carlos gives him a small smile and says, "Let's get you upstairs."

The elevator ride is quiet and the swoosh of the loft door opening is a welcomed relief. TK drops his bag at the door and toes off his shoes before walking over to Lou's tank to say hello.

He's too exhausted to take Lou out and rub his back like he likes to do after a shift to let Lou know he's the best boy.

He makes it to the bedroom and sits on the end of the bed before it becomes to much. The adrenaline wore off long ago and what's left is the very real emotions that he almost died. He sees the tears fall onto the floor more then feels them and he can't help the sob that leaves his lips.

He feels Carlos put his arms around him and he leans into his husband.

"I've got you," Carlos whispers into his ear, "I've got you."

He doesn't know how long he cries but his throat is raw and his eyes hurt from the tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and wipes at his eyes.

"For what?" Carlos asks.

"Getting snot on your shirt," TK replies, "I don't know where that came from."

"You had a big day."

"I didn't think we were going to make it," TK confesses, "We were in this classroom and there was no way out. Nancy had covered all the windows and we used our jackets to cover the cracks under the door but it wasn't enough. I had to sit there and listen to Tommy tell Wyatt her safe lock combo and to tell Judd to take care of her girls. We weren't supposed to make it out."

Carlos' arms tighten around his husband.

"I thought some stupid little room fan was going to help keep the gas out. I was so scared," TK continues on, "Then as fast it came it over. The wind changed and we were safe."

Carlos kisses the top of head, "I was scared too. I had to pretend like everything was okay for the girls, but I was checking my phone every 5 seconds for updates."

"I can't imagine," TK says, "I'm sorry for making you worry."

"Life of being married to a first responder," Carlos replies.

TK chuckles at that. He pulls away from Carlos' arms and sits up. He wipes at his eyes again, "I'm exhausted."

"Let's get you into bed," Carlos says. He stands up and grabs TK's hands to pull him up with him. He pulls at TK's shirt to get it over his head. His hands go down to unbutton TK's jeans and then pushes them to the floor. He bends down to kneel and take off TK's socks next.

TK just stands there and let's Carlos take care of him. He's too sleepy to do much else. Carlos pushes him over to his side of the bed and pulls the duvet up to let TK settle into bed. TK curls onto his side and his eyes close once his head hits the pillow.

Carlos pulls up the covers and TK cuddles into the sheets more.

Carlos makes quick work of his clothes and gets into the other side of the bed. He curls onto his side and he feels TK move around until he's close enough that Carlos reaches out and pulls him close. He holds his husband close and breathes in his scent as he falls asleep.

[wandering-night19]

I can't believe I'm finally posting this! I also know that if I don't post it now, I probably never will. It has truly been a labor of love to write this. It is 5 chapters and is mostly complete. It will be updated every Friday in October with the final chapter being posted on Monday October 30 in honor of my own dad's passing 9 years ago. A huge special thanks to @whenshereads for being the most amazing beta and for all the encouragement and seeing me through every breakdown I had about writing this. Also @steddie-as-they-go as always for listening to all the rants and being the reason I even wrote this in the first place. When I texted her the day after the finale to tell her I had an absolutely terrible idea she cackled and demanded it be written.

The Weight of Grief

43.7k . Carlos Reyes/TK Strand . Explicit

With all the loss they've suffered Carlos and TK deserve a happy ending. In their post-Honeymoon bliss they just weren't expecting to have to work so hard for it.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

Tagging those who showed interest in the snippets under the cut.

@welcometololaland (seriously biggest cheerleader award) @carlos-in-glasses @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @lightningboltreader @jesuisici33 @thebumblecee @alrightbuckaroo @rmd-writes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @lutavero @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings @rosedavid

[tellmegoodbye]

our love will guide us home

rating: T

word count: 30k

“That's the thing about love. Most of the time, it's beautiful. It's a feeling unlike any other, and even when it got complicated it was almost always worth it. Sometimes, it also sucks. It brings pain and heartache, and every now and then the bad memories begin to overpower whatever love that once existed between two people until it ultimately tears them apart in the end." Carlos has been lost these past couple of months without TK by his side. To his friends and his family, every day is simply just another day. He figures that as long as he keeps his pain locked away, the hurt will eventually dull. It's his shield. It's the only way he's ever known how to grieve. The universe has a different plan for him this time. All it takes is one frozen lake, one fateful radio call, and the possibility of losing TK forever that forces him to confront it all.

read on ao3

listen to the spotify playlist

[welcometololaland]

A honeymoon, reimagined.

Carlos/TK | E | Chapter 8/8

(a big thank you to @celeritas2997 for listening to my 3094283948 voice messages on grief, talking things through and directing me to some great resources)

Also - thank you to everyone who has shared their experience of grief with me as I write this fic. I love all the stories that people have shared and I'm very grateful for your vulnerability and willingness to discuss something so personal.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: Day 1

Chapter 3: Day 2

Chapter 4: Day 3

Chapter 5: Day 4

Chapter 6: Day 5

Chapter 7: Day 6

Chapter 8: Day 7

“Do you want me to say anything?” TK asks, his voice rough as he feels another tear form, clouding his vision.

“No,” Carlos says softly, reaching between them to tangle their fingers together, even though both of their hands are sweaty from the heat. “I just need you here.”

“Always,” TK whispers, and looks up to see Carlos blink furiously, tears streaming down his face. 

They stand there for a few additional minutes, the silence interspersed with Carlos’ little sniffs. TK lets his mind wander, think about all the interactions he’s had with Gabriel over the years – everything from shaking his hand at a farmers market, irritated about being introduced as Carlos’ friend from work, to the dinner they had before their wedding, Carlos’ eyes interlocked with Gabriel’s as they shared a toast. It’s all muddied by a murder now, TK thinks, and it’s sad. Carlos deserved more time and Gabriel deserved to know his son better. That growth was all just starting to take shape when it was cut short.

“I love you, Papa,” Carlos says softly, inspiring a fresh round of tears from TK as he disentangles their fingers. Then Carlos sighs deeply and moves towards the shovel as TK steps back. 

He watches Carlos tip the displaced earth back into the hole, covering the wooden box until it’s completely gone from sight, packed in with a discernible mound over the top. Then Carlos places a small circular stone at the head of it, stands back up and crosses his right hand over his chest in an easily-recognisable yet invisible cross – his lips moving silently in the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost.

TK waits for a moment, then catches Carlos’ eye as he turns to him. “It’s done,” Carlos says softly, with an air of calm finality, before reaching for TK’s hand. TK lets himself be led back towards the house in silence.

Read chapter eight on ao3

[ramblingdisaster73]

Safe in Your Arms

TK smiled proudly at the TV as he and Lou Two watched the news segment showing Carlos on the press conference that had been held by the Texas Rangers after solving their month-long armored car heist case. One that had resulted in one fatality and a several injuries. A few of which the 126 had responded to.

This was the first case that Chief Bridges had let Carlos take the lead on and Carlos had definitely been feeling a whole new level of pressure on the job than he had previously dealt with as a patrol officer. He had spent several long nights in the office, sometimes bringing his files home to continue working on while TK tried to help or slept on him while he worked. TK couldn’t believe that an offhand comment about traffic backing up had led Carlos to the suspects, but his husband had good instincts.

Last night, Carlos had told him that they were working on a plan to try to catch the suspects in the act, that he and the soup guy would be the bait. It wasn’t like it was a surprise to TK that Carlos would be in danger on the job, they both were on a daily basis. They had talked about the realities of what could happen should the men act in the way that they had in their last attempt. It also wasn’t lost on either of them who would most likely be on the call if things went wrong if the bad guys kept to their preferred section of Austin.

TK had spent several hours listening to the radio calls a little more closely than he usually did, hoping that one wouldn’t come requesting the 126 for assistance and that things would go the way that the rangers had planned. He didn’t pray often, but he did that day.

Continue reading

[chaotictarlos]

My coda for 4 x 13 is done, but I think I'll post it tomorrow. What do you guys think?

[carlos-in-glasses]

✨✨Keep the Lights on✨✨

12k, E, 2 chapters. now on Ao3.

In a nightclub somewhere in Downtown Austin, Paul becomes a voice of wisdom when TK and Carlos are each flirted with by other men – and jealousy, confusion and a little bit of chaos ensues. Will our heroes end up going home together? (A 1x05 coda)

✨✨✨✨

It’s attempt number three of trying to lean coolly against Carlos' car while they wait for Paul to appear after finishing his shift.

TK descends into laughter again, and Carlos feels so fizzy he can't stand still. 

"He's going to walk out here and think we're a pair of idiots," TK whispers, shoving Carlos playfully.

"I'm happy for him to think you're an idiot." Carlos shoves him back. "But I want his first real impression of me to be more accurate than that."

"Nah, he already thinks you're hot and sophisticated," TK says, poking Carlos’ cheek. "So, it's time we prove him wrong."

"Shut up." Carlos tickles at TK's hip, a spot he discovered the thrills of the other night when TK writhed under him and creased into a snort-laugh. 

"I mean, we can't disprove your hotness.” TK chuckles against Carlos’ touch. “But your sophis– wait, I think he's coming!"

Chapter 1: Let me Hold Your Hand

Chapter 2: And Babe, I'll Make You Stay

Read on Ao3

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

WIP Wednesday!!! I can’t believe I both have something to share today AND am kicking us off☺️ (from my 5x05 coda) (I made this header really quickly and will not be taking any constructive criticism at this time including compliments bc I will not believe them🤭)

“I remember my mom’s eyes when she looked at him.. she looked so in love.. I mean I was fifteen so I thought it was disgusting at the time but..” he mumbles sleepily.

TK can’t help but let out another short laugh. “That sounds like a really good memory.” he says softly, his hand moving from the back of Carlos’ head to gently brush a thumb over his temple. It catches on the edge of his eye, TK’s own eyes catching on Carlos’ even though they’re closed; on the relaxed softness around them, the lashes fanning out over his cheeks.

“Yeah.” Carlos sighs. The single breath holds both happiness from the memory and sadness. The same feelings rush through TK, like they’re being transferred between them by the breaths they share, just as their pleasure had been earlier, by their hands and lips and tongues.

OPEN TAG AS ALWAYS!!! Plus no pressure tags under the cut:

@meditating-honey-badger @the-126-family @goodways @whatsintheboxmh

@corsage @ironheartwriter @nisbanisba @thoughtsickles

@emsprovisions @nancys-braids @your-catfish-friend @rmd-writes

@goldenskykaysani @captain-gillian @strandnreyes @ladytessa74

@alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @herefortarlos

@heartstringsduet @paperstorm @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@literateowl @lemonlyman-dotcom @welcometololaland @sapphic--kiwi

@reyesstrand @theghostofashton @lonestardust

[marjansmarwani]

I need you so much closer

7.8k || ao3

Carlos Reyes was loved.

Yes, by TK, but not only by him.

— — —

Or, a 4x04 coda in which we get to hear from everyone else and fill in some missing scenes.

This was not supposed to be this long, but it’s done! All the love to @moviegeek03 and @justaswampdemon as always for helping from start to finish (and making sure it actually got finished). 

-------

Gabriel Reyes thought he knew fear. 

He had been a Texas Ranger for most of his life. He had been in law enforcement even longer than that. He had seen the worst of the worst; had stared down hardened criminals that would end his life just as soon as blink. 

He thought the peak of fear had been finding out that his son’s home had burned down while he was inside. The knowledge of exactly how close he had come to losing his only child had nearly been enough to topple him, and the fact that he had been at least partially responsible didn’t help. There was the day-to-day fear of his son’s job (because of course he had followed him into the same line of work), the occasional instances of bad things happening, and feeling that rush of fear. But this? Looking down at his son’s still body as his fiancé worked to keep his heart beating? Seeing his son lying there and knowing that the only thing keeping the blood flowing through his veins was the force of a distraught TK desperately pumping it through his heart? This was the deepest and most primal fear he had ever felt. 

Somewhere deep inside he had known that this was a possibility. From the moment TK had showed up at their door with that fear in his eyes the thought had been whispering in the back of his mind. But being here and seeing it, knowing that they had been not even fifty feet from Carlos that morning; that his son had been hurt and in trouble and he had been so close but had done nothing, made it all so much more real. 

He didn’t even need to ask TK for his professional opinion of the situation, he knew how bad it was. He also knew that if they had been just a few minutes sooner Carlos could have been fine.  Just as much as he knew if they had been just a few seconds later any hope they did have (tenuous as it may be) would have expired, right along with his son. It was a cruel trick on the part of the universe; to bring them here so close to saving him but just maybe a little bit too far. 

[continue reading on ao3]

[alrightbuckaroo]

Anger Has Told Me Her Real Name is Grief

Chapter: 1/1 | Rating: General Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | Word Count: 855 | Carlos is letting his grief manifest into anger; no matter how much he doesn't want it to.

On the card, in solemn black letters are the words, “Sorry for your loss”.

Carlos chuckles softly to himself; it’a sound filled with void and discomfort. He doesn’t think loss can begin to describe how he’s feeling; to describe that black pit that’s growing deeper and deeper. Last night all he wanted to do was drown in it. 

That’s the thing about grief; it’ll crawl down your throat and make itself at home. It’ll find a way to rob you of words you never thought you knew. It’ll find a way to to cut open a part of you that you never knew was there. It’ll find a way to keep the blood flowing, no matter how much you try to stop the bleed. 

Carlos rips the card in half and throws the remnants in the trash can. He closes the trash can lid hard. Not hard enough to startle, but hard enough for TK to notice; because he's TK.

continued on ao3 <3

tagging some moots i really want to share this with <3

@heartstringsduet, @carlos-in-glasses, @chaotictarlos, @reyesstrand

[chicgeekgirl89]

Day Zero

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, Owen Strand

Rating: T

CW: Non-consensual drug use, mentions of addiction

Summary: After a lifetime of struggle, T.K. is finally clean. He's living with the love of his life, has found a family at the 126, and is creating a future he never thought he could have. Having his sobriety stolen away again wasn't part of the plan. A follow up to the events of 3x12 “Negative Space.”

A/N: I wrote this directly after 3x12 aired and then never posted it because it's such a sensitive topic. I'm hopeful I've done T.K.'s addiction and sobriety and the struggle he might have after the events of the episode justice.

Read on AO3

T.K. is high. He’s floating, drifting, his mind blissfully unaware of anything resembling reality. He knows he’s high, he’s been high so many times that the feeling of it is as familiar to him as breathing.

It should feel good. This is something he craves, not as constantly as he once did, but it’s always there, a sleeping beast, dormant inside him. Waiting. Always waiting. And now he’s finally gotten it again.

But something eats around the edges of the haze, something sharp, fearful. This is wrong. He doesn’t want to be high. He doesn’t want…how did he…what’s…?

He forces his eyes open, the room around him a swirl of confusing colors. He can hear someone yelling, something heavy falling nearby. It takes him far too long to realize he’s on the floor in his bedroom, the carpet under his cheek familiar. Carlos had been eyeing it at Pottery Barn for months even before he bought the loft. 

Carlos.

Carlos. 

Something warm is pressed up against T.K.’s leg and he slowly turns his head to find his boyfriend’s body splayed out on the floor next to him, eyes closed, form horribly still.

“Carlos,” T.K. croaks, fear and panic combating the effects of the drugs that are swirling through his system. 

There’s more yelling close by but T.K. can’t make out what’s being said. His mind is only capable of one thing at a time right now and even focusing on that is difficult. He tries to sit up, but his muscles feel like jello, so he drags himself across the floor, trying to get close enough to check on his boyfriend, fingers reaching out, still too far to do any good.

“Carlos!”

A familiar voice calls his name this time, and seconds later Gabriel Reyes appears, dropping to his knees, his hands going to Carlos’ face. For one horrible, terrible, god awful, heart stopping moment, Carlos doesn’t move and T.K. thinks he’s dead. Really and truly dead and gone.

But then he lets out a moan and sucks in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling and T.K. feels such crashing relief surge through him that he nearly passes out again. 

Gabriel turns and puts a hand on his shoulder. “T.K., are you with me?”

T.K. tries to make his mouth cooperate but his tongue too large, and the words in his mind feel like they’re slipping in and out of focus. Gabriel pulls him up into a sitting position, leaning him against the foot of the bed. “Strand! I could use some help in here!” he calls.

“Hang on!” T.K. hears his dad’s voice respond from the other room. “Marjan’s bleeding pretty bad, looks like she’s been stabbed.”

Marjan is here? T.K. is so confused, desperately trying to stay focused, to not let the darkness drag him under again. And if Marjan is bleeding he should help.

“Whoa, whoa, you stay right here.” Gabriel puts a hand against his chest and T.K. realizes that he tried to get up, although he didn’t make it very far since none of his extremities seem to be working well right now.

Gabriel has gotten Carlos sitting up and is propping him next to T.K., his eyes glassy and vacant, but open, awake, alive. Gabriel holds him up with one hand while he holds his cellphone with the other, talking rapidly to someone about multiple ambulances and backup.

T.K. can hear Marjan now, she sounds furious, and he can see Sadie, sprawled on the floor like the rest of them, but his brain still can’t piece together what’s happened, how they’ve all ended up like this. Things are fuzzy, muddled, like he should be able to understand what’s going on, but he can’t quite…

“What happened?” He finally manages to get the question past his lips, eyes sluggishly searching Gabriel’s for some kind of answer.

Gabriel is still focused on Carlos who is having a difficult time keeping his eyes open. “It was Sadie,” Gabriel says, his voice tight. “She burned down the gallery, blew up Gordon’s car, she did all of it.”

Sadie. Sadie did this? Sadie who’s been in their home for the last three hours? Sadie has been the one causing trouble. Sadie…

His dad crouches in front of him, concern all over his face. “Hey buddy, how you doing?”

“Dad,” T.K. looks at him, dread starting at the base of his spine and creeping rapidly up to his neck. “Did Sadie…did she…?”

“She drugged you. Both of you. It was in the soup. T.K. I’m so sorry,” his dad says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“The drugs, was it—?“

“Oxy,” Owen tells him gently. 

Oh. Yeah. That makes sense. 

There’s a yell, Sadie’s voice and then Marjan lets out a few choice expletives. “I’ll be right back,” Owen promises and T.K. nods. There’s nothing he can do anyway. There’s nothing anyone can do. They just have to wait until the high wears off.

“Carlos do not go to sleep,” Gabriel says sharply and T.K. looks over to see his boyfriend’s head lolling to the side, eyes drooping as Gabriel forces him to stay upright. 

“Sorry,” Carlos mumbles, eyelids fluttering. “Tired.”

“I know, but you have to stay awake, all right?” Gabriel looks up at someone else. “Can you get them some water?”

T.K.’s eyes follow Gabriel’s and he finds Catherine stepping out of the room to do as the major has asked. T.K. has no idea when she got here. He has no idea about a lot of things right now.

He’s not interested in the water she hands him, but Gabriel urges both of them to drink. T.K. manages one sip and then just holds it in his hands, feeling the coolness of it through the glass. Carlos does a little better, getting down a third of the glass under his father’s watchful gaze. He’s sitting up under his own power now, but he’s still listless and looks like he could topple over at any second. T.K. hates it.

He wishes he could do something, wishes he could reach out and hold Carlos’ hand or rub his back or kiss his temple, anything to bring him comfort, but he can feel himself slowly sobering up and with every passing second reality sits heavier and heavier on his shoulders.

Everything he’s worked for. Every meeting, every chip, every night he’s chosen to go home instead of going out to score…it’s all gone. Erased. Like it never even happened. He’s back to square one. Zero days of sobriety.

This is a part of him he has never wanted Carlos to see. Carlos who always believes the best of him, Carlos who has no idea how truly deep and dark T.K.’s past is. Carlos who has only ever been T.K.’s fresh start, who is now dragged down into the muck and mire right along with him. 

“I think…I think I’m going to be sick.”

He looks up to find Carlos a shade paler than he already was, eyes glassy, a greenish tinge to his skin. 

Someone runs to the kitchen and returns with a large bowl they usually use for salads and popcorn, but will probably never use again, the memories of tonight now marking its surface in place of the geometric pattern on its sides.

Carlos retches, his stomach emptying, and T.K. sits frozen, letting everyone else help. He should be the one rubbing Carlos’ back, he should be the one telling him it will be okay. But he can’t. He can’t do anything other than sit in a growing sense of shame and guilt.

Paramedics arrive, thankfully no one T.K. is familiar with. They ask questions and T.K. and Carlos answer in monotone. Naloxone isn’t necessary since they’re both awake and alert, and when saline is offered T.K. refuses, he doesn’t want anything else being put in his body tonight. He does manage to come out of his miserable haze long enough to insist Carlos accepts. If nothing else at least Carlos will be hydrated as he comes down; hopefully it will help to lessen the inevitable headache and malaise he’s going to feel.

They’re transported to the hospital, doctors prodding and poking, asking questions, a familiar rhythm that makes T.K. sick to his stomach. The doctors and nurses know what happened, they're being sympathetic, but it’s too much. The dance is too familiar and it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin. 

He lies on a gurney, staring at the hospital ceiling as his emotions war inside of him. He wants the high to wear off, he wants it gone now. But there’s a part of him that is desperately holding onto it, that wants the numbness and the disassociation, and the bliss of being free from the nightmare he’s living. This part of him, the starving beast that he’s beaten back into submission again and again, rears it’s ugly head and screams that it’s not worth it. That he’s not worth it. That he did everything right, got himself clean and it still doesn’t matter, because here he is again, right back where he started. 

He’s an addict. 

No matter how much work he does, it’s all he’ll ever be. 

In the midst of being treated some detectives arrive to talk to them, their dads, Marjan. His own version of the story is short. Sadie was there when he got back from getting groceries. He felt hot, kind of off, and the next thing he knew he was staring at Carlos on the floor. No one asks him why he, an addict, didn’t recognize what he was feeling. But they should. They should tell him he’s an idiot for not figuring it out sooner. That if he’d realized what was going on, both of them might have been spared at least some part of this nightmare. 

Carlos’ version of the story is far more painful. “I saw her on the footage,” he says, his words still slow and labored, as if he’s having trouble getting them out, but he pushes on determinedly. “We talked, I asked her why she did it, and she said it was for Owen. Then I realized T.K. had been gone for too long. But when I got up,” he swallows hard, “I couldn’t keep my balance. I saw T.K. on the floor…”

Carlos turns and looks at him with tears in his eyes. “I should have realized. I should have known it was her. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” T.K. says. The words don’t sound soothing, even though he means them to be. He simply can’t muster up the energy to be Carlos’ emotional support right now. Yet another thing to feel guilty about.

They get home around three o’clock in the morning and collapse into bed. Carlos falls asleep with his head pillowed on T.K.’s chest, one of T.K.’s arms wrapped around him, a sign of how vulnerable he feels since usually T.K. is the one curled up into Carlos.

T.K. doesn’t sleep. He lies there wallowing, his mind turning over and over, fighting with the rage and grief and failure that threaten to eat him alive and take his relationship along with it. 

Carlos shudders and T.K. rubs his arm until he settles. He’s struggling. Maybe not as much as T.K., but he was still assaulted against his will in their home for the second time in less than a year. T.K. knows he feels violated and guilty, even if the guilt is unfounded. The only person who should feel any guilt is Sadie. And maybe his father for dragging death onto their doorstep yet again.

T.K. watches the clock tick past four, past five. When it says six am he slips from Carlos’ hold and takes the longest, hottest shower of his life before wandering into the kitchen and brewing some extra strength coffee. 

He doesn’t feel great, but it’s nothing he hasn’t felt before. The mild nausea, the pounding headache, the heaviness in his limbs, it’s all to be expected. So are the guilt and shame and perseverating thoughts whirling through his mind. The beast inside him is awake, hungering for another taste, even though he’s barely come down off the last one. But he’s used to that too. He’s telling it to shut up and it’s working for now. 

If only he could be sure it will last this time. 

“T.K.?”

The groggy, pained call moves him toward the bedroom. “I’m here,” he says as he walks quickly through the doorway so Carlos can see him. His boyfriend has been through enough, he doesn’t need to wake up panicking that T.K. has disappeared on a bender. “How are you feeling?”

“My head is pounding,” Carlos winces and squints against the light coming through the curtains as he pushes himself slowly into a seated position. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” T.K. says. “Do you want some coffee? Or I can make tea?”

“You don’t need to take care of me,” Carlos tells him.

“I don’t mind,” T.K. says. It gives him something to do, something to focus on for a moment. “Tea?”

Carlos nods an affirmative and T.K. puts it together in short order along with some toast, and some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. 

“Thanks,” Carlos says as T.K. sets it all on the nightstand. 

“You’re welcome.” 

T.K. moves to the wardrobe and pulls out his uniform. “What are you doing?” Carlos asks.

T.K. hangs it on the wardrobe’s doorknob and moves to the dresser for clean underwear and socks. “Going to work.”

“You’re not staying home? I figured, after last night…”

T.K. takes a breath, tries not to let all the feelings battling inside him rear up and burst out of his mouth. Carlos doesn’t deserve that. “I need to go to work today,” is all he can say.

“Okay.”

The word sounds confused, maybe a little hurt. And it hurts T.K. to know he’s the cause of any of Carlos’ pain right now. But he has to go to work. If he stays here…if he stays here he’s going to fall apart. 

He pastes on what he hopes is a passably pleasant look. “I’ll be home by five. And I’ll keep my phone on if you need me.”

“T.K., maybe we should—“

“I can’t, Carlos.” The words are razor sharp and he feels brittle as he says them. “I…we’ll talk. We will. Later. I promise.”

He grabs his work bag and pauses long enough to press a kiss to Carlos’ forehead. “Rest today. I’ll be home in a few hours. I promise.” He looks into Carlos’ eyes, reminding himself that he’s no good to Carlos if he doesn’t take care of himself first, even if it hurts to do it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The moment he steps out the door he can feel his mind starting to clear. He’s going to have to deal with all of this eventually. But right now, there’s work to be done.