#he absolutely would do this but TK absolutely does not mind he loves his husband so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugdenlovesdingle · 11 months ago

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This is so so SO late but @chicgeekgirl89 here is your @tarlos-santa gift!

I absolutely loved all three of your prompts but in the end I went with: They lose power on Christmas Eve and Carlos freaks out about dinner but they make the most of it and still celebrate together.

And after several rewrites, mental breakdowns, existential crises, exasperation over the English language, and wondering if it's even real... this is the result and I hope you like it! Merry Christmas!!

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Perfectly unperfect (AO3)

“What are your plans for the holidays, cap?” TK asked, making conversation as they headed back to the firehouse after a call on their last shift before Christmas.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just going to enjoy the downtime with the girls. Staying in our pyjamas all day, eating junk food, and watching Christmas movies.”

“What about you and Carlos?” Nancy asked. “Let me guess, not leaving the bed unless absolutely necessary?” she teased.

TK snorted.

“I wish. Carlos has been planning the dinner for weeks. We’ve been all over the city to get ingredients and I thought he was going to cry when his schedule changed and he had to work Christmas Eve.”

“Are you hosting the family Christmas dinner then?”

“No, that’s the worst of it.” TK sighed. “Dad invited us over and so did his parents but we decided to stay home. So it’s just going to be the two of us. And he’s still bought enough food as if both our entire families are coming over.”

“Oh that sucks dude. Your husband cooking you a fancy holiday dinner? Damn that’s rough.” Nancy said sarcastically. “I’m glad nobody is going to do that for me this year. That would just suck.”

“Shut up.” TK rolled his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate him cooking us dinner, it’s that he’s stressing out over it when I would be happy with a frozen pizza and watching Home Alone in bed.”

“Have you tried telling him that?” Tommy asked. “Communication is the key to a long and happy marriage.”

“I have, but he just gives me the Carlos Cow Eyes and tells me he wants to make it special for us. And I can resist anything but that. Those soulful brown eyes will be the death of me.”

Tommy laughed.

“I remember those days well. Charles’ laugh made me melt when we first got married. And then when the girls were born, seeing him with them…” she sighed. “I was a goner.”

“Yeah, I’m still working on Carlos making friends with Lou. He’ll make him his salad and sometimes even feeds him crickets or meal worms but he still won’t touch him with more than just a finger.”

Nancy looked at him.

“How do you go from babies to lizards? Your mind is such a strange place sometimes.”

“Lou is our baby!” TK said as he turned the ambulance onto the street the firehouse was on. “What are your plans for the holidays anyway? Are you going to LA to meet up with Mateo and meet the family?”

“No, me and Marj are just going to hang out and spend it together. We’re getting Chinese food and I’m making her watch the Lord of the Rings movies because she’s never seen them.”

“Really? Do you have room for two more? We’ll bring snacks.” TK jokingly asked.

“No way dude, I need a break from seeing your face every day.”

“You see Marjan’s face every day too.”

“That’s different. I’m not stuck in an ambulance for hours with her every day. And she has a nicer face than you.” Nancy teased and jumped out of the ambulance after TK had parked it in its usual spot in the firehouse. “Oh look, if it isn’t mister soulful eyes. Hey Carlos.”

Carlos gave her a confused look but returned the greeting.

“Hey babe, Nancy doesn’t like my face.” TK mock pouted and kissed Carlos hello. “She says she needs a break from me.”

“Does she? Well then it’s her lucky day, because I’m here to take you home. And I do like your face. And the rest of you.”

“That’s good to hear. But my shift doesn’t end for another hour. And yours not until seven.”

“I pulled in a few favours. The guy who transferred here from New Jersey a few months ago agreed to cover for me if I introduce him to your dad sometime. He nearly fainted when I told him who my father in law is. Apparently Owen Strand is a legend over there.”

“Not just over there. He’s a legend over here too.” Owen walked up to them. “Did you know local news wants to interview me? They’re doing a local heroes feel good thing for the holidays. Exciting isn’t it?”

“Yeah, definitely. We should give you pictures to sign. You could hand them out to your fans on calls.” TK teased.

“Very funny. See if I mention my ungrateful gremlin of a son in my interview now. I’ll just mention my always friendly and nice son in law who is just the kind of person to stop by after his shift to wish everyone happy holidays.” Owen patted Carlos’ shoulder. “And happy holidays to you too, Carlos.”

They hung around the firehouse until the end of TK’s shift and then went home together after wishing everyone a happy Christmas. Only when they stepped outside the weather had changed for the worse. It had started raining and the wind had picked up.

“Good thing I picked up the last supplies for our Christmas dinner before I came here.” Carlos commented, looking at the dark clouds through the windshield of his car after they got in.

“Was there anything left in the store you hadn’t bought then?” TK said, only half joking. “We have enough food to last until Christmas next year.”

“I just… wanted us to have options. You didn’t want the turkey dinner…”

“So you just bought everything else?” TK asked and leaned over the gear stick to kiss Carlos’ cheek. “I love you but when I said I didn’t want the whole turkey dinner, I meant I didn’t want you spending the whole day in the kitchen cooking some 10 course meal. We could just get a burger or tacos on the way home.”

“We can’t get tacos at Christmas, TK.” Carlos insisted. “And I don’t want to drive halfway across the city in this weather anyway.”

By the time they made it home, the rain had gotten even worse and unfortunately Carlos’ usual parking space was taken, which meant they had to park further down the street and run to the front door.

They were both soaking wet in seconds and causing a mini flood when they walked into their loft a few minutes later.

TK dumped his keys in the bowl by the door and the bag he was carrying on the kitchen counter.

“This can wait.” He decided, and turned to Carlos. “You, me, shower, now.”

“You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute. Just let me put this stuff away.” Carlos replied, opening the freezer and putting a tub of TK’s favourite ice cream in.

“Babe. I need to get out of these wet clothes�� and I could use some help.” TK said, grabbing Carlos’ hand and dragging him to the bathroom. “Like I said… you, me, shower, now.”

In the end, Carlos didn’t need much convincing and TK decided that this was easily the best Christmas eve he’d ever had.

Especially since he spent the rest of the night making out on the sofa with his husband like a couple of teenagers, instead of watching some cheesy Christmas movie they’d put on as background noise.

When he woke up the next morning, he reached out for Carlos, hoping to convince him to sleep in or possibly even stay in bed the whole day, but found his side of the bed empty and cold.

He listened for clues on what Carlos was doing, and most importantly where, but didn’t hear much except the storm still raging outside their loft.

“Babe?” he called out, sitting up in bed. “Carlos?”

“I’m here.” Carlos appeared in the doorway carrying a tray filled with food and fresh juice. “I was making breakfast.” He put the tray on the nightstand and leaned down to kiss TK. “Good morning. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” TK replied and then did a double take. “Wait… you made me breakfast in bed? Who are you and what have you done to my husband?”

Carlos chuckled and got into bed.

“I wanted to do something nice for you. For us. We’ll just change the sheets when we’re done.”

“I could get used to this.” TK commented and bit into a chocolate covered strawberry. “Though we could’ve just gotten coffee and pastries from that place on fifth.”

“Not in this weather. The storm from last night has only gotten worse. My mom texted me earlier and told us not to drive out to the ranch because it’s too dangerous.”

“We weren’t going to…”

“I know. But now we’re officially excused. They have Ana and Diego and the kids staying with them anyway, they won’t miss us.”

After breakfast, TK managed to convince Carlos to stay in bed and watch a movie with him, even though he knew the other man was itching to get started on the Christmas lunch and dinner he’d planned.

The storm was still raging outside but snuggled up together under the covers in their bed, neither man really cared.

TK facetimed his mom and they watched Jonah tear open the presents they’d sent over.

“You two spoil him.” Gwyn said, sounding mildly exasperated but smiling. “Enzo and I agreed to keep it simple and then you two buy him everything from his list.”

“It’s for his birthday too.” TK argued. “And I just want him to know he has a cool big brother in Austin who will buy him cool presents.”

“He fought two soccer moms for that robot dog.” Carlos told Gwyn. “It got ugly.”

“It’s ok. There wasn’t any blood.” TK joked and they all laughed.

“Did you get our presents?” Gwyn asked.

“You mean the plane tickets in our names? As a not so subtle way of telling us to come visit?”

“I don’t do subtle. It just complicates things.” Gwyn argued. “And I haven’t seen you two since the wedding! It’s been way too long. I’ve almost forgotten what you look like.”

“You’re seeing us now.”

“I just see your face.”

“I’ve been told it’s a very nice face.”

“It is a nice face, I made that face. But I’d like to see the rest of you again too. And you too Carlos.”

“We’ll do our best to come visit as soon as we can in the new year.” Carlos promised and got out of bed. “I’ll leave you two to talk, I’ll get started on dinner.” He said and pulled one of TK’s hoodies over his head.

Only before he’d even made it out of the bedroom, there was a loud clash of thunder and the loft went dark.

“What the hell?”

Carlos tried the light switch next to the bedroom door but nothing happened.

“Is it just us?” TK asked, getting out of bed after quickly saying goodbye to his mom. “We didn’t have that many appliances running that we’d blow a fuse, did we?”

“I don’t know.” Carlos said, frustrated. “I’ll go check the fuse box downstairs. Do we still have that flashlight?”

“Kitchen drawer I think. Do we have any new fuses?”

“I don’t know. I thought I bought some when we moved in. When I moved in…”

“That was ages ago.”

“I know that, TK.” Carlos snapped but regretted it immediately. “It might not be the fuse anyway. I’ll just go have a look downstairs and we’ll take it from there.” He slipped on his work boots and grabbed his keys, and all but slammed into their neighbour when he opened the door.

“Oh, hi. Did your power just go out too?” she asked, looking past him into the loft. “I was talking to my sister in Ohio and suddenly everything went poof. I think it’s the storm.”

“Yeah, everything went black for us too.” Carlos told her and noticed more neighbours coming out of their apartments to see what was going on. “It looks like it’s the whole building.”

“Actually, it’s the whole city. Or parts of the city.” TK joined them in the doorway and showed Carlos his phone. “I still have that 911 scanner on my phone. There are calls coming in from all over the city. The storm knocked some power lines down and they can’t fix them until it’s over.”

“Fantastic.” Carlos felt a tension headache building behind his eyes.

“Do you boys have candles? I have plenty, you can have some. I like to light some for dinner this time of year. It gets dark so early.”

“Thanks, but we’re ok Mrs Evans.” TK said and quickly closed the door. “What do we do now?” He asked Carlos.

“I don’t know. We have all this food that’s going to go bad if we don’t eat it, but we can’t prepare it because our stove is electric. And the ice cream in the freezer is going to melt and I bought it especially for our Christmas dinner because it’s your favourite.”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” TK put his hands on Carlos’ shoulders to stop him from spiralling. “The food will keep for a while. It’s only been 10 minutes and if we keep the fridge closed, it’ll stay cool. And we’ll just eat the ice cream now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Why not? Our Christmas, our ice cream, our rules. Grab a spoon.”

They sat down at their dining table with the ice cream, even though neither of them really felt like it, and TK could tell Carlos was distracted.

“Babe, what are you thinking about?” he pushed.

“What are we going to do for food? We can’t even have leftovers because we can’t heat anything up.”

“We could go get tacos after all.”

“Are they even open on Christmas day?” Carlos asked and pulled out his phone to look it up, but put it back down again right away. “We need to preserve the batteries of our devices.” He explained.

TK wanted to argue that they probably wouldn’t last for the entire time the power was likely to be out, but then his phone started ringing in his hand.

“Dad, hi, not a good time right now.”

“Did you just lose power too? It looked like your area got hit too but the map I saw wasn’t too clear.”

“Yeah, everything is dark here.” TK sighed and looked at Carlos who had started pacing up and down the loft. “We’re kind of screwed because the stove is electric too.”

“Come to me.” Owen suggested. “Not me, me… but the firehouse. It has a generator so there is power and heat. And a working stove.”

“I don’t know dad, we wanted to just do our own thing this Christmas.”

“In an apartment without power? Don’t be ridiculous TK. Just pack up and come over here.”

After a few minutes back and forth and Carlos getting pulled into the conversation, they promised Owen they were on their way, and a little over an hour later, they walked into the firehouse.

“And there was me thinking I wouldn’t have to see this place for a week.” TK sighed.

They greeted his dad and the crew from B-shift and TK got Lou set up in Owen’s office while Carlos put the food away.

They joined the crew in the lounge area where everyone was gathered around the TV and keeping a close eye on the weather report. Carlos sat down in his usual spot next to TK but barely said a word to anyone.

When Tommy and the twins came in some time later, he got up to greet them and wish them a merry Christmas, but for Nancy, Marjan, Paul, and Asha, he barely managed more than a smile and a quick “Hey.”.

TK was starting to worry and enlisted Paul’s help to pull him out of his funk.

“Carlos my man.” Paul started, patting Carlos’ shoulder. “We need to feed these people. We don’t want Marjan getting hungry. I still wake up in a cold sweat remembering those first few days of Ramadan last year.”

“I heard that!” Marjan yelled.

“Good! You were hangry and we all suffered!”

Carlos laughed a little and agreed to help Paul cook.

“Do we have enough to feed all of these people?”

“Yeah I think so. Asha and I brought our food and I saw the mountain of food that was already in the fridge when I put ours in there. We’re alright. Come on, let’s figure out what to make.”

Carlos joined Paul in the kitchen and soon there were multiple pots on the stove and the firehouse was starting to smell amazing.

TK was put on chopping duty, while the Vega twins helped Owen set up extra tables and chairs for everyone, and Nancy and Marjan attempted to fold the paper napkins they found in fancy shapes following a YouTube tutorial.

“Babe, come taste this.” Carlos held out a spoon for TK. “Good?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing. Is this what you were planning on making for us at home?”

“No, but with the stuff that was in the fridge here, and the stuff Paul and Asha brought we were able to experiment a little.”

“We should let you experiment more often.” TK said and stole another bite of the sauce. “This is really good.”

“Yeah? Not too spicy?”

“No, it’s perfect. Just like you.”

Carlos blushed and ducked his head but still let TK kiss his cheek and returned the “I love you” he murmured in his ear.

“If you two are going to be like this all night, we’re going back to Nance’s apartment.” Marjan announced and everyone laughed.

“Yeah, have some mercy on us single people.” Owen said, joining in on the teasing and stealing a quick taste of the food.

Dinner was somewhat chaotic and a little cramped since the firehouse kitchen wasn’t built to seat this many people at once, but everyone enjoyed their meal, and each other’s company.

Even though B-shift got called out and Owen had to join them on their call and leave their makeshift Christmas party.

“I vote we put on LOTR.” Nancy told the rest when they’d all settled down in the lounge after dinner. “Marj has never seen them and I said I’d educate her this Christmas.”

“We were planning on watching The Holiday.” Tommy said. “You can’t go wrong with a romcom at Christmas.”

“I haven’t seen The Holiday either.” Marjan admitted. “I’m not a big movie person ok? I get bored.” She defended herself when Nancy asked how she’d managed that and the Vega twins started shooting movie titles at her to check which ones she had seen.

“I guess it’s Jude Law first, and Orlando Bloom second then.” Asha settled the debate. “It’s not like any of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” Paul started. “If any of you guys snore, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“You’ve shared a bunk room with most of us for years!” Marjan reminded him. “You know we don’t snore. Judd does. And Mateo sometimes.”

“And my dad.” TK grinned. “It used to wake me up when I was little. I thought it was the train going past our apartment but it was just him.” He said and everyone laughed.

They spent the rest of the night watching movies, and TK let Evie feed Lou and walk him around the firehouse on the leash and harness he’d bought a while ago.

Carlos had gone quiet again, but TK figured he was just tired and let him be.

By the time Owen returned with the B-shift, everyone was starting to get tired and Tommy took charge in working out the sleeping arrangements.

The twins wanted to sleep in the bunk room with the crew but Tommy insisted they slept in her captain’s quarters with her, while Owen gave up his to TK and Carlos.

“I know it’s nothing like your bed at home but it’s better than separate bunks with the rest of them right beside you.”

“We’re fine to sleep in the bunk room.” Carlos assured him. “We don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s fine. I insist.” Owen said and with TK’s help got Carlos to give in and accept the bed.

It was a small double bed barely big enough for the two of them, but they made it work.

“I’m sorry.” Carlos sighed, trying to get comfortable in the small bed after TK had turned off the lights and gotten into bed with him.

“Sorry for what?”

“For ruining our first Christmas as a married couple.”

“What? What are you talking about? Unless you caused this storm and the power cut, you didn’t ruin anything.” TK insisted. “And even if you did cause it, I’ve had a great night. I have you, Lou, my dad, our friends… That’s all I need.”

“I just… I had all these plans. I wanted to cook you something nice and exchange gifts by our tree and just… make our own traditions.” Carlos explained, avoiding looking at TK. “Especially after I made you deal with all of the crazy Reyes family traditions last year.”

“I had a great time last year too.” TK promised. “Especially when your abuela started talking about what Christmas was like when you were little. I loved that little look into how you grew up.”

“She was just happy to have someone to talk to that hadn’t heard all of her stories about 500 times before.”

“Well it’s a good thing I was a willing audience then.” TK laughed a little. “She even went out of her way to speak English with me the whole night, and she was so excited when I told her I was learning Spanish.”

“Yeah she told me to hold onto you when we left because you were a good boy with a good heart.” Carlos told him, smiling at the memory. “The whole Reyes family loves you.”

TK smiled and wrapped his arms around Carlos a little tighter.

“That’s good, but I’m only really interested in one of them loving me. Though technically his name is Reyes-Strand now.”

Carlos sighed and rolled onto his back.

“That’s why I wanted this Christmas to be special. The start of our life together.”

“Technically our life together started a long time ago.”

“You know what I mean.” Carlos sighed again. “Everything is official now. We’re married, the name change has gone through… I wanted things to be special. Perfect. Not… whatever this disaster was.”

“Baby, look at me.” TK said and waited for Carlos to do so. “I don’t care about presents or the perfect dinner… All I want for Christmas is you.” He said and kissed him for emphasis.

“Did you just quote Mariah Carey at me?”

TK shrugged.

“She made a pretty good point with that song.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlossanta23 #carlos reyes #tarlossanta #tk strand #my writing #Why yes I am the absolute worst with deadlines #And yes I did write the ending first #and then couldn't figure out how to make the rest of it fit #which is probably obvious

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flamingwell · 2 years ago

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I posted 4,126 times in 2022

That's 2,538 more posts than 2021!

22 posts created (1%)

4,104 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@deadhawke

@roseverdict

@whetstonefires

@soresus

@tk-duveraun

I tagged 1,151 of my posts in 2022

#guardian - 328 posts

#shen wei - 234 posts

#cql - 140 posts

#zyl - 139 posts

#puppies!!! - 135 posts

#weilan - 122 posts

#fanart - 82 posts

#wwx - 81 posts

#jiang cheng - 79 posts

#mdzs - 64 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#but tell me what other reason wwx would have for inventing a way to sacrifice yourself body and soul to bring someone back from the dead

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

Do you think Meng Shi *really* didn't realize that Jin Guangshan would never accept her son? Do you think she didn't know, deep in her heart? An intelligent woman like her (with a brilliant son like here, how could she not be), don't you think she understood as the years went by and there was no word from Lanling? As time went on and the cruelty of the Madam bit, but not as painfully as her dwindling dreams? As time went on and "surely he'll return next week, next month, to claim us" became "perhaps next year", as all the funds she could scrounge went to pay for cultivation manuals while she went hungry in a cold room and no gold clad figure came to call? As she saw other hopeful girls scorned by those who claimed to love them? As the chance of making those dreams real faded, would she maybe have clung to them all the harder? As she looked at her son, her beloved boy, and clung to the only thing she thought she had of value to give him—her dream of a father's love for him, a place of honor, a life of luxury. She must have known, deep down, that it was only a dream. But it had kept her going in a world that was too cruel, and so it was her dearest possession and she wanted to give her son what she valued most. She didn't realize that her own love was the thing her son found most valuable, because the world has taught her that she was worthless. So she gave him her love, but she also gave him a poison dream, always thinking (hoping, wishing) that she'd given him the only the best.

41 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

I'm just imagining Wei Wuxian in the a Demon Slaughtering Cave in those three months after Nightless City, mostly out of his mind with grief and guilt and resentful energy, absolutely *desperate* to find some way, ANY WAY to fix this. He would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it would bring Shij—Jiang Yanli back.

And so he does. He's a genius, and he's bending all his will to this, and he *does it*. He invents a way that he could sacrifice himself, body and soul, in order to bring her back to life. But....

But .

She would come back to *this*. She would come back *as him*, trapped in the Burial Mounds with no core and the entire cultivation world howling for her blood, living in the body of the man who murdered her husband.

He can't do it to her. Being dead would be better for her than that.

So he rages and screams and cries and he flips the table and throws his notes across the cave, but he doesn't use it. And the Sacrifice Summons waits for another desperate boy years later....

95 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

Do you ever think about how ZYL must have missed his Shen Wei when he was in the past—Professor Shen, with his short hair and sleeve garters, with his eyes full of secrets and grief—even while sitting next to the Shen Wei of the past?

Do you ever think that after he'd returned to his time, ZYL must have missed his Xiao Wei—with his long braids, eyes open and unguarded even as his hand was never far from a weapon—even while sitting next to the Shen Wei that he met first?

Do you ever think about that?

134 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

I adore the Zhao Yunlan & Da Qing relationship. We both have "Da Qing basically raised Zhao Yunlan" and "Da Qing is basically Zhao Yunlan’s younger brother/son figure” and neither of these contradicts the other in any way

In conclusion, Da Qing is Zhao Yunlan’s son but also his dad but also his younger brother, hope that helps clear everything up

144 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So I'm a Goncharov newbie (I know, I know, I can't believe I missed out on this gem for so long either!), and of course I know there has probably been a ton of ink spilled on this already, but one thing that's just blowing my mind is that this film even got MADE in the middle of the Cold War!! I mean, you have a Soviet protagonist whose story and character are explored in such depth and with such empathy. Not only that, but he has complex and not-entirely-antagonistic relationships with characters from the other side of the Iron Curtain (Andrey is the one everyone's talking about of course, but I think his relationship with Sofia has so much unexplored depth—that Look on both their faces right before he closes the door and they both know that he's closing it on any nascent friendship they might have had? UGH, it just kills me!!). And this came out in the middle of the Cold War?? I know it's an absolute CLASSIC today (and with good reason, holy shit, the complexity of the storyline and the tension and sadness that just scream from the screen in every shot!), but can any Tumblr history buffs tell me what the reception was at the time?

430 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #my stuff

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youngbeezer · 3 years ago

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Do you Believe in Happily Ever After? | Joel Farabee

A/N: Hello again! I got such a great response to my first fic I posted which literally made me so happy, so thank you so much to anyone who gave me the time of their day to read my fic. Here is a new fic for mr. joel farabee!! This one is a little longer and I tried my best, feedback always appreciated, but I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Few curse words, overall just fluff

Word Count: 2160

Tagging a few people again so this doesn’t flop,,,

@ollywahlygator @joshsandersons @joelsfarabees @fratboyzegras @sorokns @butgilinsky @ricohenrique

I haven’t been to too many weddings in my life. I attended one for my uncle when I was around 10 years old but I don’t remember much from it. My mother also got remarried around 3 years ago, but up until this year, weddings weren’t a natural occurrence in my life.

This past year though.. I’ve attended two weddings, got an invitation in the mail today for another one, a close friend of mine just recently got engaged (so that invitation will be coming sometime in the near future), and one of my best friends’ wedding is tomorrow. Now I feel like everywhere I look, I am surrounded by love.

Now I’m not saying that is a bad thing, but when every one of your friends are either having kids, getting married, or in serious relationships, it starts to feel a little discouraging. Is there something wrong with me? Am I the reason why I’m still single?-- No, I refuse to think like that! I could get a boyfriend if I wanted to. Maybe my friends are right though… Maybe I’m not putting myself out there enough.

Anyway, one of my best friends, Karly, is getting married to her long-time boyfriend Travis tomorrow. I’ve met Travis, or as everyone seems to call him ‘TK’, a handful of times and I know he plays for the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team-- which is cool I guess, but other than that I don’t know much about his personal life or who he hangs out with.

Karly and I met running into each other at a cafe once. Yeah, yeah I know it sounds like one of those cliche romantic meetings, where two people bump into each other and immediately fall in love. I mean we did hit it off almost immediately and from there we became like two peas in a pod-- just not in the way you think. I’ve always wondered though, if maybe I ran into a handsome man at a coffee shop or walking down the street, would I be having my happily ever after right now?

I snap out of my thoughts when an incoming call from- speak of the devil, the bribe to be. Before I can even say my greetings, Karly jumps right into business;

“Ok! So since you weren’t able to come to the dress rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. I’ll give you the rundown on what you need to do.”

Oh yeah, did I mention that I am one of the bridesmaids? Sadly, I was not able to attend the functions before the wedding due to not being able to get time off from work. But, Karly was super cool with it, which brings us to the reason for this call.

“Ok so basically, your dress and everything is already in the bridal suite, so everything will be ready for you when you get here tomorrow. You’ll be walking down the aisle third with one of Travis’ buddies Joel-- he plays on the team with Trav and he’s such a sweet guy he’ll definitely help you out if you need anything.. You know now that I think about it you guys would be such a cute couple-”

“Uh Karly? I don’t think now's the time to play matchmaker, when we should be preparing for your big day tomorrow.” I cut her off.

“Alright, alright. But I will be coming back to that thought. Ok so anyway--”

After that I kind of zone out from trying to keep up with whatever Karly is spitting at me right now. While still on the phone, I pull out my laptop and search for the name ‘Joel’ with ‘Philadelphia Flyers’ next to it in search of this man who is said to be walking me down the aisle. Right away the name ‘Joel Farabee’ pops up with a wikipedia and multiple photos. Hm this guy is kinda cute. Just as I go to click view more images, Karly’s words register back in my brain;

“Ok y/n, did you get that?”

“Hm.. oh yeah! Got it. What time should I be there tomorrow?” I ask, praying that she didn’t already mention that and realize I wasn’t paying attention.

“8 AM sharp,” she responds all giddy.

I suddenly remember that my best friend is actually getting married tomorrow. Feeling giddy as well I reply, “Sounds good. I am so happy for you Karly and I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look tomorrow!”

Karly does a little shriek in response and reiterates her excitement as well. We then say our goodbyes and I wish her a great last night as an unmarried woman before hanging up. I got back to what I was working on before the call and all my jumbled thoughts entered my brain, totally forgetting about a certain someone named ‘Joel’ as I exited the browser.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning I arrive at 8:17 AM at the wedding venue and as soon as I exit the Uber, I start booking it to the bridal suite. When Karly says to be somewhere at 8 AM sharp, you be there at 8 AM sharp, and I’m not particularly fond of facing her wrath today, especially on her wedding day when stress levels are through the roof.

There’s just one problem though… Since I wasn’t able to attend the rehearsal, I have no idea where I am going.

Trying to recall the directions Karly told me on the phone last night (when I wasn’t paying attention), I take a sharp turn around a corner looking the opposite direction and suddenly collide with a dead end. Wait- no that’s not a dead end, it’s a person.

Immediately going to spit out an apology, I stop dead in my tracks when I make eye contact with the handsome man I bumped into.

“Oh shit! I am so sorry. Are you alright?” I see his lips moving, which are very nice to look at by the way, but my mind doesn’t register his words as I stare dumbfoundedly at this handsome stranger. Who, now that I think about it, looks a little familiar.

When I still don’t answer, the familiar stranger clears his throat before giving me a once over of my whole body, which does little to bring me out of my trance. If anything I now start to feel my whole face flush from noticing him obviously checking me out.

His face then seems to light up in recognition before asking, “Wait, are you y/n?”

When he notices my look of confusion on how he knows my name he continues, “I’m Joel, Joel Farabee.” Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, I notice a slight blush coating his cheeks before he adds, “We’re paired to walk down the aisle together… Um, also I think Karly is looking for you. She was kind of freaking out a little.”

With that last sentence my whole body comes back to life realizing that I am late and Karly is going to kill me. Hurriedly I exclaim “Oh my gosh! I am so late and I have no idea where the hell I’m going.” I frantically search around for any directions to point me to the bridal suite.

Joel kindly puts his hand on my shoulder, which immediately ignites a fire on the skin he is touching, before he reassures “Hey, you’re good. Just take your first right down this hall and then it will be at the end of the corridor, you can’t miss it. Seriously. She hung up streamers and balloons everywhere with a poster on the door that says ‘Bridal Suite. NO BOYS ALLOWED’.”

Letting out a soft snort I gently thank Joel before rushing in the direction he pointed me to. Before turning right, I sneak a quick glance over my shoulder to find Joel already glancing my way. My heart does a little flutter when we make eye contact and he gives me a little lopsided grin before going on his way.

What just happened…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as I walk through the doors of the suite, I am immediately ambushed by the bride to be on why I was late, until she notices the deep blush covering my cheeks, which then prompts another ambush on what made me blush.

I change the topic as quickly as I can and direct our attention on getting ready for the ceremony. Karly looks absolutely beautiful in her white gown and her hair all dolled up. She doesn’t even seem remotely nervous for today as well. Most weddings I have been to, the bride is always going batshit crazy making sure everything is perfect or worrying that her soon to be husband might back out. That just shows how happy and comfortable Karly and Travis are in their relationship. God, I wonder what it must feel like to have that kind of love that is so solid and healthy. Suddenly my mind starts drifting to what it would be like to have that type of relationship with Joel.

Oh who am I kidding? I just met the guy. Sure, when his hand touched my shoulder my whole body felt like it was on fire. And yeah, maybe when he gave me that little lopsided grin it gave my entire stomach butterflies. Oh jeez. Today is gonna be a long day…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ok now I feel like my whole body is going to explode. He is looking at me like I’m now the bride and he is the groom. And suddenly, I’m wishing that were the case. We are getting closer and closer to walking down the aisle together, and every step we take towards one another my stomach does a little flip.

When we finally reach each other, he offers his arm for me to take as he speaks, “Wow… Uh yeah wow, you look gorgeous.”

Blushing, I respond with a quiet “Thank you.”

“Guess I was the lucky one eh? In case I end up tripping and making a fool of myself, no one will even be paying attention because all eyes will be on you.” There’s that little lopsided grin of his again.

“Well aren’t you a sweet talker.” I responded.

He just gives me a subtle wink before we ascend through the doors and down the aisle where Travis is waiting for the big moment. He gives us both a little smirk before we part ways like he knows something we both don’t.

…

Eventually Karly walks down the aisle looking like an absolute princess. The officiator says his whole ordeal, Karly and TK both say their vows to one another, there are lots of tears, and Joel and I can’t seem to keep our eyes off of each other.

After the ceremony, we all head in the direction of the reception hall where the real fun begins. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding was spectacular, the way everyone expected it to be. Now as music filled the air with a giddy sort of elation, the newlyweds looking beautiful and so happy while dancing, friends and relatives chatting between one another about this and that; I can’t help but feel a little bittersweet about it. I want this. I want that giddy elation to be surrounded around me, I want to wear that beautiful white gown, I want the guy to be looking at me like I just hung the moon while we had our first dance. Where’s my happily ever after--

“You know you never properly introduced yourself?”

Startled, I spun around to find the source. Joel.

I give him a sweet smile before returning my gaze back to the happy couple and responding, “Y/n y/l/n.”

He follows my gaze and lets out a little sigh before expressing “They’re perfect for each other, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they really are.” Before I can get another word in Joel blurts;

“Do you wanna dance? Like,” He stumbles a little with his words, “like with me?”

Letting out a soft giggle, I happily reply, “I would love to.”

Seemingly relieved, Joel takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor as soon as a slow song comes on. He puts his hands respectively on my waist while I put mine around his neck inching him closer to my body. We dance with each other for a while, even after the song is over and a fast high tempo song blasts through the speakers. It’s like we are lost in each other, just savoring this ‘moment’ together.

Eventually after the fourth song comes on and we are still dancing, Joel pulls away just a little to look me in the eye before softly whispering “Do you believe in happily ever afters?”

Seeing that look in his eyes again, the one where it seems like he is looking at me like I just hung the moon? I answer in that same soft whisper, “Yeah… yeah I think I do.”

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #joel farabee fic #ahh i just wanna dance with joel farabee and immediately fall in love with him #hope you liked it :)#my writing

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woodchoc-magnum · 4 years ago

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Lone Star Episode 2x10 Hate Watch

If this ends up in the main Lone Star tag I apologise in advance, because I a) genuinely don’t know what that is and b) never intended for it to go there.

As always - if you love this show, great! I hate this show and I like to complain about it, and at this point I am only watching for Judd, Grace, Tommy and Buttercup.

Let’s do this fucking thing:

So Mateo lives in a share house situation like Buck did in season 1 of 911

Wow his friends are kind of assholes

Wow his friends are really fucking stupid

'I need new friends' understatement of the CENTURY

Oh wow Tarlos are moving in together ommggggg you guysssss they've developed this relationship so welllllll /sarcasm

#Carloscandobetter2k21

Thank GOD we can go back to our regularly scheduled Rob Lowe-apalooza after last week's Judd and Grace fest

I think Buttercup should go live with Carlos as well though just saying

Omg if Buttercup is DEAD I WILL LOSE MY FUCKING MIND THAT DOG BETTER NOT BE FUCKING DEAD I SWEAR TO GOD WHERE IS THE FUCKING DOG OH MY GOD WHERE IS THE FUCKING DOG

WHERE IS THE DOG

WHAT THE FUCK

OH THANK GOD

He was just getting his rocks off with the neighbour dog everything is fine

Fats Domino! Wow okay Lone Star great music choice

Hey Donovan the lacrosse douche is HOT

What is a sweet cream, I know not of your American treats

Oh WHAT IS THIS MACHINE

WHAT IS THIS DEATH MACHINE

Question – do machines in America not have auto shut-offs?

Love these assholes filming this poor girl what the fuck, people have no goddamn empathy anymore

No masks on literally anyone at all

COME THROUGH MARJAN

Nice for Nancy to actually have lines, good for her

These assholes with the phones though fuck these guys

I'm sorry I said he was hot I regret thinking he was hot

Oh my god they are DRILLING INTO HER LEG? WHAT THE FUCK?

Damn Marjan 10/10

Oh no it's the Owen broods a lot show

Is Mateo going to move in with Owen?

Oh fuck he is, isn't he

God poor Mateo

Just Rob Lowe casually lifting weights with Mateo in the gym while they have a deep conversation

What a legend

GRACE

It's been way too long without Grace and Judd in this show

He loves her so much

17 minutes in and I'm going to say that this episode has been very boring so far

Are there any fics that have paired Owen and Mateo up yet? Because I 100% think that will happen

Also when we were envisaging a roommates storyline for 911, we weren't envisaging it for Lone Star OKAY

One hundred percent someone has already written a fic about these two drunk fucking and listening to Steely Dan

21 minutes and I'm so bored

I broke out the chocolate covered almonds, my cat has gone to sleep… it's grim

Oooh Owen cancelled the surgery – why? Because he's a little BITCH

How does nobody know his house blew up? If a house blew up in my town, that would be front page news

Maybe Austin doesn't have a local newspaper though

Yeah that's right we still use newspapers here don't judge

I shouldn’t have opened these almonds, I'm 100% going to eat them all

And OMG GRACE HAS TAKEN HERSELF SHOPPING? DO YOU GUYS NOT HAVE HOME DELIVERY THERE? WHAT THE FUCK?!

Oh my god Grace

Girl

What the actual fuck were you thinking

SHE DROPPED THE DANG KEYS

GRACE ACCEPT HELP FROM YOUR HUSBAND OH MY GOD

YOU SHOULDN'T EVEN BE DRIVING

These are caps lock of concern okay? I'm WORRIED

Look when you're in a bad situation, just eat some ice cream, I get it

This kid is throwing a 10/10 temper tantrum

Why the fuck is Owen going up? He's the captain. Who runs things if he does all the things?

He's such a fucking knob I swear to god

Also question - why didn't they just climb out one of the conveniently placed windows near the child having a temper tantrum on the roof?

Yeah your friends actually care about you Owen? I have no idea why but maybe you shouldn't be fucking complaining about them you numpty

GRACE HAS BEEN IN THE CAR FOR SIX HOURS

I would’ve peed myself 100%, no way I can hold my bladder for 6 hours

She ate that whole thing, damn girl I've been there I get it. Obviously not stuck in the backseat of my car but like eating a whole pint of ice cream, yeah, I've been there.

Gina Rodriguez is a blessing to this show

"Get up Dad," TK says in a monotone

I wish the camera in 911 lingered on Eddie's ass the way it lingers on TK's ass, ngl

But in a respectful way, of course

Is this a fucking intervention jfc

Why am I watching this shit

The crossover was such a high point wasn't it? Remember when Eddie was running around in the filter looking so goddamn amazing… those were the days.

This show is so dumb. Nobody in the OG would do this to Bobby. It's so fucking corny and it only serves to prop up Owen as a character to the detriment of all the other characters

It's just an opportunity to blow smoke up his ass

One hundred percent Rob Lowe did the "smiling depression" thing in Parks & Rec – maybe Owen needs to pay a visit to Dr Richard Nygard, I hear he's doing amazing things in Pawnee, Indiana

It's amazing how much I like Rob Lowe in Parks & Rec and can't stand him in this show

I'm typing a lot because this show is dumb as fuck and it's also SO BORING

This is so boring

Ronen sucks so much

There's been like one interesting emergency and one boring one and the rest of it has just been Rob Lowe's bullshit

Except for Grace and Judd, god I love them

These two are amazing and they have such great chemistry. They can do some storylines on this show so well and the rest of it is just garbage

IF BUTTERCUP IS DEAD I WILL LOSE MY FUCKING MIND

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH BUTTERCUP

DON'T YOU DO IT SHOW

DON'T YOU FUCKING DO IT

BUTTERCUPPPPPPPPPP

Okay he's fine

This show really needs to stop toying with my emotions

Also absolutely no masks whatsoever in this show at all this episode, amazing. Haven't seen one.

Okay so overall I would say that the Grace and Judd stuff was great and everything else was terrible.

I also did NOT finish the almonds, admire my self control! Admire it!

3/10

Diaz to CLEANSE god look at that man holy shit

Remember the crossover guys? That was amazing

#lone star hate watch #this show is gaaaarbaaaaage #hate watch

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maybe-theres-hope · 4 years ago

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Of Will and Wildflowers, Part 1

Tarlos | period drama/grudging acquaintances to lovers | Part 1/3

Read on ao3

Thank you to @oquinn53 and @resiotcage for cheerleading and reading ahead of time. You both give me the motivation to keep going.

Title by @oquinn53 :)

By law, TK Strand cannot inherit his father’s railroad empire until he marries. He has absolutely no intention of finding a husband on their trip down to Texas, but he finds himself blindsided by Mr. Carlos Reyes, only son of Doña Marialena Reyes. The problem is that Mr. Reyes resents the Strands coming to buy up parcels of his family’s cattle estate to build a rail line on. TK is perfectly happy to leave him to stew in his anger, as he has no use to see the man after the end of the week. However, TK will find that the heart wants what it wants, and there’s rarely anything one can do about it.

Set in 1885

Below is an excerpt, full part 1 from the beginning is under the cut!

TK was astonished at his father’s ability to forgive anyone almost anything, but this was almost too far. Mr. Reyes had barely said a word at dinner, and that was only after he’d been forcibly pulled into conversation by Christina. Even then he’d talked of nothing but the weather and cattle movements, and he’d offered a mild chuckle at Elena’s story of her first time riding a horse. He’d spent the rest of the evening simultaneously staring at and avoiding TK.

TK knew this because he’d been doing the same, though he would sooner saw off his own hand than admit to it.

“He insulted us and called us names. He besmirched our honor. He wears brocade to ride in! What on earth makes him a good man?” TK huffed out a breath. He turned to see his father just smiling at him.

“He’s a good judge of a room, anyway. He seldom looked away from you,” Owen ribbed. TK could now see where this was heading. His own father was just as bad as the Doña trying to play matchmaker.

“Parents are far too successful in matching their children up economically, but when it comes to romance, parents are no better off than if they hadn’t known another eligible soul in the world,” TK recited.

“Oh, come now son, I’m not that insensitive! He’s handsome isn’t he?” his father returned, finally dropping the ruse and showing his true colors.

“Handsomeness does not a happy home make,” TK recited again.

“You’ve been reading too many Dame Juliette columns.”

“And you’ve been trying to plot my marriage since we were on the train, and the minute you saw a handsome son on this estate you’ve sealed my fate, have you?” TK groused.

At this, Owen softened his face. “I am sorry for being a bit pushy, but Mr. Reyes is the first man you’ve so much as made eye contact with of late. Is it so odd to wonder what about him brought you out of your self-imposed melancholy?”

“Who said I was out of my melancholy?”

“Your eyes whenever they met his.” Owen’s face was serious, no longer teasing.

“He makes me angry, is all. Anger is an emotion.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” And with that, Owen turned to climb into his own bed, the conversation abruptly halted and TK left wondering what his father thought he’d concluded from their exchange.

Lying on his own mattress across the hall, TK wondered at emotion. Sure, anger was an emotion. A useful one. But so was love, and he was determined to hold out for it.

Part 1

“Ms. Mercer’s proposal looks promising,” Owen says, mostly to himself but loud enough to include TK in the conversation, should he wish to participate. “And Mr. and Mr. Felton-Lowman have quite a sprawl, though it does look to contain more elevation than I was hoping. I thought all of Texas was supposed to be flat?” Owen muses as he tosses the papers back onto his makeshift desk.

TK is only half listening, choosing instead to stare morosely out the window at the passing countryside of the American South, eyes at intervals tracking livestock in the fields and lingering drips from this morning’s light storm rolling down the glass window of the lavish Pullman they’ve commandeered as their vessel for this journey. His father, bless his soul, had tried to get TK to care more about the business as of late, and truth be told, TK was very interested in the workings of his father’s company and he did take great pride in being able to inherit it someday and make his father proud. It was just that recently, he’d had his heart thoroughly crushed by an absolute rake of a man and he’d rather wallow in self pity than think about geological surveys and boundaries for livestock movements.

TK heard his father sigh, a sure sign that a lecture was coming soon. TK took a breath and held it.

“I wish you’d forget about that awful boy, Tyler. You wouldn’t have wanted a life with him anyway. His family was barely polite at best, and scandalous at their worst. Honestly, you got out on the good side of things.” TK wanted to say that he didn’t care about things like status and scandal, he cared about love and commitment.

Turns out all Alexander had been able to commit to was his harem of stable boys and footmen that TK had known nothing about until it was too late.

TK blew out his breath. He knew his father meant well. Owen Strand was not overbearing as some other fathers were, especially with an only child upon whom everything rested. He wished his son to be happy and settled, is all. TK knew this, and still he couldn’t help his sullen reply.

“Yes, father, I shall just forget. Forget every sweet nothing and every second and third dance. Forget every promise and every earnest declaration. Forget that it was all a lie. Yes, my mind shall be rid of Alexander’s presence by sundown. Then we shall celebrate. How simple.” He knew he was being unreasonable, but he wanted to be angry for a while. He’d only found Alexander with Mrs. Howell’s second footman three days earlier. It still stung.

As the train rattled on, closer to a place that TK was of a mind to understand was so far from proper civilization as to be considered exotic, he felt his father’s disappointment cling to him. That hurt worse than what he’d seen Alexander and the footman doing--which was something for which he was sure a name had not been invented yet.

“I’m sorry, father. It’s just that you’ve set this deadline for me with no explanation as to why, and I don’t want to let you down but I’m afraid I’ll never find the right man for me. I had thought it would be Mr. Thompson, but I was mistaken. Sorely mistaken.”

At this, TK looked up to catch his father’s soft look of commiseration. “I know you’re feeling overwhelmed, but you are getting on in age. Most boys are married off by three and twenty, and you’ve gone nearly four years past that. I’m not going to be around forever, you know. You need to secure a match that makes you happy, but you’ll need to do it sooner rather than later.”

“Why, father? Why must I rush such a momentous decision? You are in perfect health! I have another five or ten at least!” At this, he caught a very minute shift in his father’s countenance, something like pain, but it was gone in an instant. His father was the most stoic man TK had ever had occasion to meet; if he was in pain at all, no one would ever know. It must have been a trick of the flickering pre-dusk light coming through the windows of the train car. Owen took on a playful tone.

“Five or ten? What respectable young lad would want to marry a man of thirty-five? You’d practically be spinster by then,” he joked fondly.

“You’re a good deal past thirty-five and I’ve still seen twenty year old Miss Brinkman making eyes at you across the dancefloor of an evening. If I’ve inherited your genes I’ve nothing to fear,” TK shot back with a barely there smirk.

“Thank heaven for us all, but you’ve got your mother’s beauty. I couldn’t have asked for better,” Owen said quietly. TK’s mother had been gone these past ten years. A bout with pneumonia that the doctors could not cure had taken her from them. “But you do have my charm, I’ll allow you that. You should put it to use down south. Perhaps a cattle baron might catch your eye?”

“Oh by God, no. I couldn’t imagine whiling away my days on a smelly farm trying to read reports by moonlight and taking my sullen and fatigued husband to bed only for him to fall asleep minutes after his head hits the pillow. No romance in hard labor, that’s for sure.” TK shuddered a bit to think of life on an actual farm, constantly smelling of hay and manure like some streetsweeper back in Manhattan.

“I do believe successful cattle barons can afford more than a few tawdry tallows, Tyler,” Owen quipped with a smirk before turning his attention back to the maps and surveys scattered in front of him. The conversation that, just moments ago, had been fraught with uncertainty and earnestness seemed to flutter into the wind. TK and his father were like that most times: they’d lay things out on the table between them, and if it clearly couldn’t be resolved in a single good-natured quarrel, they both gave themselves time to regroup to resume the discussion at a later date.

For this particular subject, TK was coming to think of that ‘later date’ as a cuff slowly tightening around his wrist, the chain binding him to his destiny getting shorter and shorter.

He looked down at his hands, privileged hands that hadn’t had to do much manual labor in his life, save for the few times his father took him to the yards to show him how things were run. Owen, on the other hand, was an entirely self-made man, who saved and invested his earnings working for Vanderbilt and made enough to purchase his first railcar at just twenty. He contracted it with the Erie and charged passengers thirty-five cents for passage between New York and Boston. From there it only grew, to what was now a very respectable business, looking to lay lines of their own. Perhaps not the largest--that was still Vanderbilt’s claim--but certainly a player on the board.

And it would all be TK’s if he could just hurry up and fall in love already.

_______

The carriage from the station drove them twenty miles through gorgeous hill country. The cattle and horses grazed on rolling plains that swelled gently as they approached the horizon. It was warm, but not unbearable, which TK attributed to the absence of industry steaming and smoking and saturating the very air in one’s lungs as it did in Manhattan. Furthermore, despite the over-abundance of livestock surrounding them, the smell was far more pleasant than he was used to. TK could not help but conclude upon this observation that maybe it was not the horses that stunk, but the people. After all, fresh air was a luxury very few could afford, and they usually had to go thousands of miles to get it, such as he and his father were doing now.

Still, he held to his earlier affirmation that he could not see himself making a life in a place such as this. Despite the fact that he’d concluded they apparently smelled horrid, TK loved being around people. He supposed that was to be attributed to being an only child, and having no siblings underfoot to raise ruckus and otherwise pierce the silence that hung heavy over their home of late. Even though he’d not experienced that kind of life, he’d always hoped to make a large family of his own, his husband and he adopting ten or more children to raise and fawn over. TK had never considered for a moment that he wouldn’t be a father, regardless of his proclivity for finding only men attractive in any way. Some of that persuasion chose to remain as partners only, bequeathing their fortunes, such as they were, to their universities or other charitable pursuits. But TK had always wanted a house full of mouths to feed and hearts to warm.

He dreamed about the day when he could look over at his husband, gray-haired and body-bent, and smile at what they’d created.

Except it did not seem as though he would be acquiring a husband any time soon, and that thought vexed him more than he let on to his father. Yes, he agreed that he was getting on in years as far as marriageable age for young bachelors was concerned, but his one universal truth was that he would not settle for someone who was not the love of his life. That conviction, though others called it foolish, was the great constant that ran through every interaction TK had with any handsome man he happened upon.

He was determined to uphold that promise to himself, no matter how many years passed. If the right one came along, he’d know it. No matter for the moment, anyway, as he was doubly sure he’d not meet the love of his life in the middle of cattle country.

As the carriage rounded another gentle swell, a rather large bright structure came into view. TK put his hand up to shield his eyes for a moment, as it seemed the very sun shone out of the building. As they drew closer to the drive—lined with giant oak trees on each side like twenty such sentries—it became apparent that the house was not radiating light, but reflecting it. Every upright surface was covered with glittering textured limestone, something TK had seen here and there on their travels through the southern states. Also something they had encountered before was a grievously oversized stoop—which these people called porches—that spanned the entire width of the house, and it was evident that it wrapped around to the sides as well. It was dotted here and there with rocking chairs and benches, each with a wool blanket or cushion thrown haphazardly onto the seat to aid the sitter’s comfort on the otherwise hard wood surface.

They reached the house after a long drive up, and the carriage deposited them at the bottom of the steps up to the grand estate. TK had seen mansions in Manhattan and beyond, but this house was like a full government building. It was massive. He wondered how many people lived here.

As their driver helped them from the carriage and began to let down their luggage, a shriek of delight could be heard just inside the door. TK jumped for a moment, not expecting such a sound in such a peaceful place, before he was bombarded with the view of three bright young ladies in finely detailed seersucker and bustled skirts.

“Oh, you’ve arrived at last!” the one who looked to be the eldest exclaimed. She was tall, at least half a foot taller than the other two, with ink black hair tied up in neat chignon. Her sleeves accented delicate wrists and her waist was nipped down modestly. She smiled like TK and his father arriving was akin to a grand parade, when really they resembled world-weary travelers who could barely un-stoop their backs from so long inside the carriage. The other two young ladies—girls really—giggled behind their hands. They bore a strong resemblance to the elder; certainly they were all sisters.

Ever the gentleman, TK removed his hat to gesture to the ladies, who gave curtsies in answer. Owen did the same, and received curtsies that went just a bit deeper. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Owen called with a smile. “I was told I could meet directly with Doña Marialena upon our arrival.” He quirked his eyebrow up in question, even though it was perfectly plain that none of these girls was old enough to be the proprietor of this estate, unless they had been sorely deceived. TK thought he might admire someone capable of extending that sort of ruse for as long as they’d been corresponding with the Doña. But alas, a moment later, a much older woman who resembled quite strikingly all three ladies gathered on the porch emerged from the wide open front door.

The Doña was an intimidating woman on her own, but the height afforded her by their current positions made it seem even more so. TK tucked his hat into his elbow and bowed low, following his father’s action. The older woman bent her knees a bit, and TK noticed she did not descend the steps to meet them, but instead kept her position above, behind her daughters.

“Welcome to La Hacienda Reyes, gentlemen,” she intoned in a very slightly accented, gravelly voice. It should have sounded harsh, but it just sounded well-used, as though she’d employed it many times to shout at her daughters for their impropriety at scurrying out to meet guests on the lawn without their bonnets, as she looked apt to do right this very second. TK did not mind their state of dress so much, as rules were getting a little more lax for the younger set these days, especially in the city. Though, now that he thought about it, these country folk might be a mite more traditional, but he let the thought fade into obscurity as the Doña smiled softly down at him a moment later, as if sharing a secret.

He and Owen approached the steps as the Doña descended to meet them. Owen made their introductions as TK took her hand in his, giving a small bow as was customary. He let his father lead the conversation as he made his way over to the daughters assembled on the lawn. He kissed each of their hands in turn, learning that their names were Christina, Elena, and Raquel, from eldest to youngest. He was also informed that Christina was not the eldest in the household; her sister Rosa was ten years her senior and married, and she and her wife were summering on the East Coast.

As Christina regaled TK with how wonderful and filled with revelry their visit was to be, a lone figure appeared at the edge of his vision, galloping up quite swiftly on horseback. The animal was beautiful, sleek and black and moving with its rider as though they were one. As they drew closer, Christina also lit on to the approaching figure.

“Oh, there’s my brother. Mamà will have his head for not meeting you directly, as the man of the house should. Even though he won’t inherit, she still insists he accompany her when seeing to the business of the estate, especially when Rosa is away.”

“I’m sure he had urgent business to attend,” TK offered, however he did not know what kind of business a man in fine brocade—as he could now see the golden threads shining in the Texas sun—would have out in the fields. “We did arrive earlier than expected, I believe. Our apologies.”

“Oh, no. He wished to stay away. I’m of right mind to assume he thought we’d already be inside by now and that’s why he’s made his appearance, and he’ll be sorely thwarted to see us still about.” She fought to hide a smirk, and TK was intrigued. However, he didn’t have time to contemplate on the apparent lack of manners of the man of the house before the man in question was upon them.

He was invariably handsome, that much was clear on his approach. He had tanned skin that shone in the rays of the afternoon sun, and curls atop his beautiful head that caught that same light and transformed into blacks and browns and golds as he moved. He was fit and tall, as TK could tell even from his seat on the horse, and he commanded an air about him that sang with regality. As he disembarked from the saddle, TK was struck dumb at the fluidity of his movements. It was as if he was still galloping along with the horse, moving slowly and rapidly at the same time, body deliberately placing itself where it needed to be rather than flinging his limbs about as some proud men were wont to do when they felt the urge to assert their authority.

As he turned to face the gathered group and at last revealed his face from a close angle, TK was struck dumb. This man was gorgeous. Exquisite. A dream made flesh. TK could all of a sudden imagine what this man looked like when he smiled, when he was upset, when he was elated, when he cried. He could picture a thousand candlelit dinners at the Fifth Avenue Hotel across from this man, surreptitiously dragging their toes against one another under the table, faces and hearts alight with the impropriety of doing such a thing in public, but being too enamored of each other to care.

He could picture all of this so clearly and crisply that he could almost smell the gardenia adorning the little vase upon the table. That was, until the man opened his mouth.

“Gentlemen,” he spit, as though the word were a curse upon their persons. He turned to the Doña and intoned in a volume that was surely meant to be overheard but made as if to seem secretive, “Mother, I thought you said only one was coming. We must entertain two greedy industrialist blackguards for the whole of the week when we’ve not even fully migrated the herd?”

At this, Doña Marialena did not even flinch. She simply leaned in closer to her son and spit out a quick succession of words no doubt meant to silence his gaucherie, but which only served to wind his already pinched countenance into a tighter knot. When their short exchange had ceased, he looked mildly chastised but still as though he would rather be anywhere than here, meeting TK and his father on the front lawn. However, after receiving that nearly silent dressing down from his mother in front of their guests, he screwed his face into a more acceptable visage, and approached Owen, who was holding out his hand.

Doña Marialena made their introductions, “Carlos, this is Owen Strand and his son, TK. Mr. Strand, this is my son Carlos. Please excuse his horrendous manners.”

Carlos took Owen’s hand. “Welcome to our Hacienda, sirs. You are from New York, is that correct?”

“We are. Nearly a fortnight’s journey to get here, but it was beautiful country to pass through,” Owen answered in a friendly tone, unfettered by the exchange of impropriety that had just taken place and determined to move into more friendly territory.

“Ah, well. Let us hope your trip was not in vain,” Carlos answered with a barely there sneer. He turned to TK and offered his hand as Owen and the women turned to shuffle inside the house.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Reyes. I hope we can find some mutual agreement that is beneficial to all in this endeavor,” TK said solemnly while shaking the man’s hand. He’d abruptly become determined to dispense with all amorous thoughts of this abhorrent man. He and his father were here to do business, attend a party or two, and leave with contract in hand, and nothing more.

“There is nothing beneficial to my family about breaking off pieces of our home to sell to ardent capitalists,” Carlos hissed in a volume meant only for TK. “My grandfather’s blood is boiling in his grave as we speak.”

“Well then I suppose it is advantageous for us that you are not the one making decisions about the estate. Your mother seems quite keen to receive the compensation of ‘ardent capitalists’, as you say. Perhaps there are some issues with the household which require assistance which you, as third born, were not made privy to, sir.” TK could not help himself, and shot back the jab without thinking it through. It was ill-bred talk of money in the open, and much more so to bring it up in a first meeting, but Mr. Reyes was the one who’d alluded to finances first, so TK felt little remorse upon seeing the other man’s face flash with indignation.

Mr. Reyes looked as though he wished to lob one last verbal volley at TK, but seemed to think better of it which was a surprise given his utter lack of tact until that moment. He turned away from TK with a last look of barely tempered rage in his brown eyes and made his way up the steps and into the house.

TK followed, determined not to ponder on why that look had given him gooseflesh in a way that did not suggest fear for one’s life, but rather intrigue at what other thinly veiled emotions his own words could make those eyes flash with.

_______

Dinner was a modestly lavish affair. The table was adorned with yellow roses, to symbolize friendship and cooperation, which TK thought was a nice touch from the staff yet ultimately ineffective.

Well, possibly not entirely ineffective, as his father was currently wooing and entertaining the four women at the table with his usual easy charm, and they all seemed to be devouring his anecdotes and quips with good spirts.

It was Mr. Reyes that seemed out of sorts with the rest of the party. Even TK himself was beginning to forget their fraught exchange on the lawn and give in to the revelry of the evening. Truth be told he was glad to be at table with someone other than his father, who tended to give him pitiful looks and well-meaning advice about his recently broken heart. TK also had to admit that along with the laughing women, even Carlos himself was a nice change. His presence gave TK something to focus on other than thinking of his failed chance at happiness.

As it was, TK had already forgotten that he’d vowed he would not focus on Mr. Reyes at all.

“Your father tells me you are six-and-twenty and still a bachelor? How ever have you managed that?” The Doña asked across the table. Given his current preoccupation, TK didn’t even take the slightest bit of offense from the statement. It was helped along by the kind look in her eyes.

He gave a bashful chuckle. “Hard work and perseverance, ma’am,” he joked, and the table laughed along with him, save for one. “I’ve simply not encountered the right match, I’m afraid.”

“If he was married to the work, I’d be less anxious, but alas…” Owen trailed off with a good natured smile. Even with all his father’s nagging, TK knew in his heart that his father wanted his son to be happy and unhurried in choosing a husband.

“I’m holding out for my perfect compliment. Is that so naive?”

“Maybe not for a man in such good standing as you. I’m sure you have suitors left and right vying for your attention, Mr. Strand,” Elena said from across the table.

“I’m afraid at the moment I am quite unadorned with neither suitors nor passing interest,” he answered her.

“I, too, am similarly afflicted,” Elena mourned with a sigh. TK thought she couldn’t have been more than seven-and-ten, quite young to be so concerned. Then again he thought perhaps the country was different than the city. The Doña was mature to be sure, but she looked much younger than he’d thought a woman with a child of more than thirty years—as had been hinted about the absent Rosa—would look. She must have been wed around Elena’s age after all.

“Oh hush, sister. Your situation is not nearly as dire as mine,” Christina said. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead in an affected swoon. “Whenever shall I leave the nest?”

“When someone who possesses such a lack of wits that it precludes them from knowing better comes to sweep you off your feet,” said Raquel. Her sister gave her a scathing look before smirking and presumably kicking her lightly under the table. The younger sister just giggled and went back to her meal.

As TK watched the family interact, lightly teasing each other good-naturedly but never outright insulting each other, he could sense the love and connection among them. Oh, how he longed for a large family such as this someday. Surrounded by his children and their love for each other that ran so deep as to assure each and every one of them that no matter what was said in jest, they were always seeded first in the minds of the rest.

Even with all the lighthearted conversation going on at table, the sole Reyes son was still silent. TK thought it odd that such a stoic, contemptible man could be born into a family of such vibrant women; he was surrounded by their vivacity every day and still he was unmoved to even smile into his potatoes at their revelry. The rest of them also seemed to sense that Mr. Reyes did not wish to partake in the lively conversation, as none of them moved to include him. The Doña glanced to her son every now and then, and TK couldn’t have said her expression looked reproachful (as he would have agreeably afforded her) but it did not look content either.

Perhaps this was not usual behavior for Mr. Reyes. If that was so, then it really was the Strands’ arrival that had put him out of sorts and TK had no recourse to remedy that at present. He and his father were here for business that must be conducted, and Mr. Reyes would just have to live with that.

The Doña had apparently noticed TK going quiet among the ruckus and subsequently had noticed his earlier gaze flickering around the family accompanied by a soft smile. It seemed as though she’d misinterpreted his attentions, however.

“Perhaps the perfect compliment is sooner encountered than you think.” She gave a very slight incline of her head, seemingly meant to indicate Christina, who was sitting to her right and had proceeded to blush so profusely TK was momentarily concerned for her health. He endeavored to be diplomatic but firm against the Doña’s clear initiative, which was impossible for anyone at the table to miss.

“Ah, your family is lovely, Doña, but I fear your son and I would need to converse at length before we could find views on which we do not differ at the moment.” It was part lighthearted joke, part barely concealed jab at Carlos, and part signal of his preferences, so as not to invite any more ideas about betrothing him to one of the daughters.

Alas, he did not miss the Doña’s sharp eye turn to her son before landing back on himself in quick succession. Given their greeting, the Doña should not rightly expect there to be any amorous feeling available between them. Her face relaxed after a moment, and she returned her gaze to the rest of the table. TK did not feel cowed, per se, but the weight of her scrutiny could still be felt upon his cheeks. He was immediately given to wonder what could be contained behind those steady brown eyes, so like her son’s.

As the conversation resumed—Christina was finally ribbing her brother for his lack of mirth this evening—yet again TK found himself studying Carlos Reyes, handsome specimen that he was. But the cut of a man’s jaw and the shine of his eyes did not a welcome companion make, in TK’s view. Sure, he’d lost himself for a moment in the man’s fluidity of movement, the low timbre of his voice, the fire in his expression. But the measure of a man is in his actions, not his appearance. A man can appear any way he wants to; it is his behavior that epitomizes his character. Carlos Reyes had shown himself to be headstrong, closed-off, and prejudiced. TK had no use for such a personality. Carlos could while and wallow away his days alone for all TK cared. He would leave here with no attachments and that would not be a hardship.

Just at that moment, the man in question met his eyes. They stared for a moment, caught in some trap of unconscious strain, seemingly bound to the attempt to find the measure of each other in a single look. When TK looked away first, he felt as if he’d lost some contest.

When he chanced a glance toward the man again, he found his gaze hadn’t wavered but was now more open than it had been since they’d met, which admittedly was not to say much.

Later that night, when Christina had shown them to their guest rooms, Owen made an observation as they dressed for bed.

“The girls are quite well-bred,” he stated, apropos of nothing. The caliber of the family had no bearing on the land, therefore it was of little interest to them in coming into this negotiation. At least, that is what TK believed. His father, it was apparent, thought differently. “And Doña Marialena is a fine head of the household. She has taught her children well.”

At this, TK scoffed.

“And her son is quite adept, don’t you agree?” Owen continued as he hung his dinner jacket away. “A good man who knows the value of family and home.”

TK could not let this statement slide. “A good man? He’s an absolute cad!”

“Oh? He was perfectly cordial during dinner. There was that snafu when we arrived, but that was cleared up quickly. I say, he’s a fine man.” TK was astonished at his father’s ability to forgive anyone almost anything, but this was almost too far. Mr. Reyes had barely said a word at dinner, and that was only after he’d been forcibly pulled into conversation by Christina. Even then he’d talked of nothing but the weather and cattle movements, and he’d offered a mild chuckle at Elena’s story of her first time riding a horse. He’d spent the rest of the evening simultaneously staring at and avoiding TK.

TK knew this because he’d been doing the same, though he would sooner saw off his own hand than admit to it.

“Oh, come now son, I’m not that insensitive! He’s handsome isn’t he?” his father returned, finally dropping the ruse and showing his true colors.

“Handsomeness does not a happy home make,” TK recited again.

“You’ve been reading too many Dame Juliette columns.”

“And you’ve been trying to plot my marriage since we were on the train, and the minute you saw a handsome son on this estate you’ve sealed my fate, have you?” TK groused.

“Who said I was out of my melancholy?”

“Your eyes whenever they met his.” Owen’s face was serious, no longer teasing.

“He makes me angry, is all. Anger is an emotion.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” And with that, Owen turned to climb into his own bed, the conversation abruptly halted and TK left wondering what his father thought he’d concluded from their exchange.

Lying on his own mattress across the hall, TK wondered at emotion. Sure, anger was an emotion. A useful one. But so was love, and he was determined to hold out for it.

_______

The morning after their first night in La Hacienda Reyes, TK woke with renewed energy to be devoted to forgetting Carlos Reyes even existed.

This endeavor proved extremely difficult when upon descending the stairs to the foyer, the man in question was seemingly awaiting him, pacing across the marble floor with agitated clicks of his boots. The sight brought TK up short, and he consequently forgot that his father was just behind him, causing Owen to collide into his back and sending TK tripping down the last two steps—

Straight into Mr. Reyes’ arms. They were pressed together so tightly for a moment that TK swore he could feel the other man’s exhales as they left his nostrils, softly caressing TK’s cheek as they went. One of his hands was gripped tightly on TK’s shoulder while the other had instantly wound its way around his waist to steady him.

It took TK an inordinate amount of time to catch his breath, all the while feeling that very firm body against his. As his senses returned, he felt himself blaze with the most furious blush at the proximity, and hurried to right himself. He nearly butted his head into the other man’s nose in the process, but proceeded to stand upright without further incident. He set about straightening his waistcoat before looking up and catching Mr. Reyes’ eye almost by mistake.

The other man seemed just as red in the face as he. They held each other’s gaze for a split second longer before TK was violently reminded that the incident had not happened in private, but that the whole of the ghastly encounter was overseen by his own father.

Owen asked, much too late in TK’s opinion, “Are you alright son? I apologize for being so clumsy there,” he added in address to Mr. Reyes.

The man of the house was the first of the pair at the bottom of the stairs to regain use of his tongue. “It’s quite alright, sir. No harm done.”

“That’s true, as you were here to prevent it. Lucky, that.”

TK thought to himself that he would like to disappear from this mortal plane rather than be party to his father’s smug innuendos, especially after their conversation last night and TK’s renewed vows of thoroughly avoiding the man of this house.

Mr Reyes, however, seemed unattuned to Mr. Strand’s jabs, and simply addressed them both again cordially.

“Good morning to you both, I hope you slept well.” They replied that they had, as was proper, despite TK’s own thoughts. He wasn’t about to share that . “I’ve actually come to offer you a tour of the grounds at my mother’s behest, and also in apology for my unmitigated rudeness upon your arrival.”

TK was inclined to believe the apology was also at the Doña’s behest, if not absolutely forced. She seemed a formidable enough woman to demand decorum from her adult son.

“I understand your company is pursuing the land in the northwest quadrant of the estate. It would be my pleasure to take you there so that you can survey at your leisure.”

“So early?” Owen asked. They had not yet broke fast.

“Yes sir, in order to avoid the humidity of midday, I thought we’d ride out closer to dawn. Our cook has packed some provisions in lieu of the breakfast meal.” At this, he gestured to a medium sized basket atop a side table by the door, apparently from which the scent of bacon—as TK had just caught on the air—was emanating.

To be quite honest with himself—which he would admit much, much later was not very honest at all—TK was not at all looking forward to spending the morning with Mr. Reyes and his ridiculously dashing seat on a horse. His father being there would temper his mood, but he’d rather spend the day walking about on his own, soaking in the fresh air and solitude of the country. Or even alongside his father and the Doña, negotiating the sale of her land, as Owen had expressed his desire that TK begin immersing himself in the business and he saw no better time than now, in avoidance of any extra time spent in Mr. Reyes’ presence.

The man made him hot around the collar and jittery, and the real problem was that TK was even more angry that neither of those emotions were particularly loathsome at the moment and he could not explain to himself why.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Reyes. Unfortunately, I really must sit down with your mother and ask her about some specifics regarding the provenances, so I must decline your kind offer.” At this, he turned to TK, who was already giving him wide eyes of panic before he even opened his mouth. “TK, would you be so kind as to accompany Mr. Reyes around the property? You know the general gist of what we are looking for, and you can report back to me with what you find. I’d really appreciate your help on this, TK.”

The man was practically grinning like a fool. TK thought he might keel over right there on the marble tiles of the Reyes’ foyer.

Mr. Reyes’ face was unreadable at the moment, but TK could imagine the line of his thoughts. The two of them no more wanted to spend time with each other alone than either would want a hole in the head.

Mr. Reyes, however, was the first to recover from the abrupt change in plan, with a direct capitulation that TK could have punched him for, had he been a less tactful man. “That…would be agreeable,” he said haltingly. He turned to look at TK, who schooled his countenance into something less vile than he felt this turn of events warranted. “Would that please you, Mr. Strand?”

Would it please him? Absolutely not.

“Of course, Mr. Reyes,” he said tightly, resigned to his fate. “I look forward to seeing your lovely estate and hearing its history.”

Mr. Reyes looked almost surprised at his cordiality, and TK congratulated himself on his capability of social falsehood.

_______

Their journey was to take them from the back of the house out and around the northwest corner of the ranchland where they would stop to breakfast at a small manmade lake and then south to the orchards, through which they would find themselves back at the west side of the house. All told, Carlos informed him, the trip would take them for six miles. TK resigned himself to a morning of misery, and judging by his would-be companion’s face, he was not alone in that regard.

Their basket of provisions securely fastened to Mr. Reyes’ saddle, and both saddles securely fastened to their mares, the pair set off in silence other than Owen’s shout of farewell from the porch.

They strolled along at a leisurely pace—too slow for TK’s regard—for quite a while before either spoke. Mr. Reyes looked over to TK with a judgemental eye before saying, “Watch for snakes in the grass. Flor will not spook at them, but she will spook if you do.”

“I’m not afraid of snakes,” TK snapped, although he couldn’t rightly say he’d ever seen one up close. “Furthermore, I am high on this horse, why would I worry about something as low as a snake?”

“Rattlers can jump. They’ll have your boot off and will have half devoured your leg before you can think to turn the horse.”

TK whirled to look at him, consequently causing Flor to twist toward Mr. Reyes and Jimena, putting them much closer than TK would like after their bout that morning. He knew his face was a mask of barely concealed horror, the image Mr. Reyes’ words had conjured up no less than tremendously frightening to a city gentleman.

Mr. Reyes’ face, however, was all mirth; his cheeks were reddening in the effort of holding back his obvious laughter, which he gave up the moment TK noticed his ruse.

“That was a bold-faced lie and you are a scoundrel for it,” TK muttered, feeling teased.

“I’ll take that judgement just to see the terror on your face again,” Mr. Reyes laughed. TK was determined not to acknowledge that the man had a nice laugh, a full bodied, soft-edged one that sent warmth down to the tips of TK’s toes. TK was also determined to keep the scowl upon his face for the whole of this journey, never mind the wrinkles he was likely to develop. Curse this loathsome cowboy and his ill intentions and his shining curls and his full lips. They lapsed into silence again for another half mile.

In his endeavor to ignore his companion, TK failed to notice how he was being closely regarded by said companion. He should have been able to feel the gaze upon the side of his face like sunlight as heavy and warm as it was, but alas he remained ignorant of it in favor of the beautiful countryside.

TK began to notice little strains of wildflowers growing on the gentle swells of hills here and there, their elevations no more than four or five feet. It was like looking at someone’s floral bedding that had been disturbed in sleep and not righted in the morning; soft, loved, and lived in, a safe place to come back to at the end of the day, a warm comfort to calm the tumultuous stresses one was apt to battle in the waking hours.

“The red and orange ones that reach toward the sky are called Indian Paintbrush,” Mr. Reyes intoned softly causing TK to turn his gaze away from the flowers in a startle. It had been so quiet he’d almost forgotten his company. “There,” Mr. Reyes pointed, urging TK to return his focus to the flowers. “That line there is all paintbrush. And the purple spiked ones are Horsemint.”

“Why are they so named? Do they taste of mint?” TK wondered aloud.

“I’m…not sure. I’ve never had occasion or urge to eat one. Perhaps the name means only horses would taste the mint, but Flor and Jimena do not seem so inclined either.” His chuckle was tacked on at the end, but it didn’t feel accusatory this time. It sounded as if TK had honestly stumped him with his question and he was considering the answer in earnest, but had ultimately come up short of a correct guess.

TK focused again on the sweeping little hills as they continued to trot along. “And the pink ones? What are they called?”

“Ah, I believe those are Evening Primrose. Those are the most prominent of the wildflowers here, as I’m sure you can tell. Quite boring to look at compared to the others, but a constant nonetheless.” His tone gave TK the impression that he, too, found the fields of flowers calming. It would make sense, seeing as this was his homeland. Or…was it?

“Have you always lived here? Or did your family come into the property recently?”

“My great-grandfather purchased the land at a pretty steep discount in twenty-six, just a couple of years after the Colonization Law took effect. He came far enough north that he wouldn’t be too crowded in with the rest of his countrymen, and settled the bit to the south of us, where the house is located. He did build it, but it was not as large as it is now. It’s been expanded with both generations since, I believe.”

“Your great-grandfather came from Mexico to settle?”

“Technically, this was Mexico still when he came, since the war for Independence was not won until thirty-six. But yes, he came from Guadalajara. He thought less over cultivated land would suit better for cattle ranching, and it turns out he was right. We now have three hundred head.” His voice was proud as he recounted the story, and TK was drawn in by the clear reverence he had for his family history. He wanted to hear more, so he asked after how the estate came to be so large.

“My grandfather negotiated the rest of the land from the tribes settled here at the time, which admittedly were so few in number that the endeavor was swift. He offered them fifty head and a handsome cash sum as well, and the deal was struck in accord. The tribe moved north to the central territories and are still there today I believe. We’ve had a few high ranking members as visitors in my youth, and they were always amiable and welcome.”

Mr. Reyes’ soft smile had drawn TK’s attention again and this time he let himself look. The man practically glowed as he talked of his heritage, his family, and it was rather intoxicating. TK wanted to ask after more, but it seemed they’d reach the aforementioned lake that they were to stop and break their fast beside. He allowed Flor to carry them to a stop at a suitable spot and dismounted, again allowing himself to watch as Mr. Reyes did the same. He was taken in by the same fluidity and grace as he had been the day previous, before their awful actual meeting.

TK was finding it hard to remember Mr. Reyes being crass yesterday, no matter how hard he tried.

In tandem, they spread out an extra saddle blanket in the grass, still slightly damp from the morning dew. Their provisions were divvied up and tea was poured into metal cups, and TK was just about to take his first sip when Mr. Reyes spoke, and his tone bade TK listen carefully.

“Mr. Strand—“

Without rightfully thinking about it, TK interrupted him with, “Please, you should call me TK. Well, my name is Tyler, but only my father calls me that. Friends call me TK.”

Mr. Reyes looked taken aback for a moment, possibly at the implication of friends , but TK kept his face impassive. He’d not have them making a mountain out of a grain of sand such as a name. They were to be business acquaintances anyway, and they should address each other as such. All of Owen’s partners called him by his first name, so TK took a page from his book by extending the offer. It would help keep his mind firmly on their business relationship.

It absolutely was not so he could hear his name, both sharp consonants of it, softened in Mr. Reyes’ steady timbre.

“TK,” he corrected, and the named man swallowed a sigh at being proven right about the sound of it coming off those lips. “I would like to—that is, I am committed to—well, what I would like to say is—“ he halted, frowning down at an apple clutched in his own hand. He set the apple aside, and turned to TK directly.

“TK, I mean to sincerely apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was rude and judgmental without cause, and I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me that transgression, as I do hope we are able to work together seamlessly in this partnership.”

It seemed sincere, TK thought. The man’s eyes were fervent and his face was open in a way it hadn’t been since the Strands had arrived. For a moment, TK was lost in those eyes that reflected the climbing sunrise off the water of the small lake like Mr. Reyes was radiating the warmth of goodwill through his very irises. His eyes were soft, inviting, shining with their earnestness. It was a long moment before he spoke, which Mr. Reyes seemed to take as reservation but was in fact TK pure preoccupation with studying the man’s face at the most inappropriate of times.

“I do hope I haven’t ruined things between my family and yours,” Mr. Reyes went on. “It’s just that I—well I’m quite attached to my home here and my pride is tied up in what my forefathers accomplished.”

“To see it broken up and sold off is to admit defeat that this generation could not hold the line,” TK finished for him, and his eyes grew wide.

“Yes, precisely.”

“I have misgivings about that kind of thing also. My father built such a tremendous enterprise—nothing like the Vanderbilts of course, but sprawling in reach nonetheless. I…find myself at times overwhelmed with the prospect of taking it on alone.” It must have been the country air, the absence of all human life for a few miles, and the still burgeoning sunrise combined that made his tongue so loose with such intimate thoughts. Surely he was losing control of his faculties if he was given to sharing his heart in this way, TK mused.

Even so, Mr. Reyes’ face had not closed off yet; it remained open and inviting to those thoughts and perhaps welling up with some of his own to share, now that the barrier had lost a few bricks and they could see each other over their respective sides of the wall they’d built over the previous day and evening.

“But, you won’t do it alone, will you? You cannot inherit until you marry, by law,” Mr. Reyes reminded him. Those deep brown eyes were on him again, somehow more liquid than before. TK must be imagining things now. He blinked the line of thought away.

“Yes, that’s true. But who’s to say I’ll marry a man who wants to be involved in the railroad business? My true love may be a man of the arts, constantly shut away in his studio creating pieces to adorn our home and teaching our children to appreciate the craft of them. Or he may be a man strongly devoted to politics and spend months away from home campaigning for the betterment of the American people. Or he may prefer the country life to the city, and I must remain in the city for the business for the bulk of the year. So you see, I may yet end up running the business alone, even if my life will not be spent in solitude. If I marry for love, I’ll be glad of that connection regardless if I get help with the business. Help is not what I’ll be marrying; it will be companionship outside of worldly endeavors that will make it worthwhile.” The picture he’d painted for himself inside his head was content, and he noticed he’d closed his eyes for a moment while he’d intimated the details to Mr. Reyes.

When he opened his eyes and refocused on his company, he saw Mr. Reyes duck his head slightly, a faint blush high on his tanned cheekbones. TK wondered if the other man was embarrassed of the intimate turn their conversation had taken, and hurried to move them to more casual topics.

“I do apologize, Mr. Reyes, I did not mean to be overly familiar with you. God above, it must be the early hour that has me as yet unable to master all my faculties.”

“No, please, do not apologize. I simply—that is—I do…admire your candor and conviction. Marrying for love is not rare, but it is not the standard. To be so assured of your path in life is enviable. I admit I haven’t given much thought to it myself.”

“You don’t think of who you’ll marry?” TK asked. He’d thought of nothing else since he was a boy.

At this, Mr. Reyes’ eyes turned down for a moment, a cloud of something passing over his features before the sun shone through his expression again. “Not in the sense you’ve described, no. I supposed I always knew I would marry, because I knew I would not inherit the estate—though I do envy Rosa a bit—but I’ve never imagined what kind of man I would spend my life with. I always assumed I’d know who he was when he came along.”

Their eyes met and for a moment not even the crickets or birds or any other constantly buzzing creature could be heard. TK was the first to break it, albeit in a slightly hushed tone.

“And he hasn’t come along yet?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Mr. Reyes answered. He looked disinclined to elaborate. They gazed at each other a moment longer before Mr. Reyes broke the contact and gestured to their spread. “We should partake of Mrs. Smith’s generous meal. It seems she packed for much more than three this morning,” he laughed, and it only sounded a little forced. “I assure you, the fresh bacon cooked in rosemary will change your perspective on life the moment it hits your tongue.”

TK took the change in subject gracefully, also keen to step back from the precipice they’d found themselves on much too early in their acquaintance, truth be told. They’d forgotten themselves but no harm had been done, and they could go on as intended—as short-term business collaborators only.

_______

They rode the rest of the way around the western perimeter as the sun reached higher in the sky, Mr. Reyes pointing out landmarks here and there. Ostensibly this outing was for TK to survey the land for it’s viability for their project, and he was doing so, but he was also enamored with Mr. Reyes’ ability to guide them along with enthusiasm and grace. It was very clear the man loved his home and was deeply proud of it, and TK was entranced when he talked.

By the time they reached the apple orchard, TK had stopped deluding himself that he wasn’t fond of Mr. Reyes. He’d had his misgivings from the beginning, and for good reason, but there was a good man underneath the initial prickliness. Mr. Reyes could be likened to a cat protecting its young. Docile for the most part until his family was threatened, and TK could see where he’d felt that way initially. Mr. Reyes had come around quickly though and TK was not sure how much of that was due to his mother’s insistence and how much was just their conversation on this journey around the property in the early morning light.

“It smells so heavenly here,” TK mused aloud as the horses picked their way between the lines of trees. To be able to be abreast of each other to properly hold a conversation, the horses were so close that occasionally TK’s knee or thigh brushed against Mr. Reyes’. It startled him each time, even though he’d come to expect it. He supposed it startled his body but not his mind, which was a disconcerting feeling indeed, but not altogether unpleasant.

“They are called Gala apples. They thrive quite well here in the moderate rain. Would you like to try one?” Mr. Reyes asked. TK nodded with a small smile, and watched as Mr. Reyes dismounted Jimena and left her untethered. He turned back to TK and held out his hand. “Come along, it tastes better if you fetch it from the tree yourself,” he teased.

TK stared at the outstretched hand before taking it and dismounting gracefully, coming familiarly close to Mr. Reyes for the second time that day. This time, only their hands were touching as opposed to their whole bodies—as they had been on the stairs that morning—but it felt almost more intimate. TK noticed that they’d paused to regard one another again as they had multiple times on this journey. However, as they had done each time, they broke their gazes and their contact and went on as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. The only problem was that each time it happened—and this incident more than all he rest—set his heart aflutter in such a way as to distract from all else in the moment. It took him increasingly longer to come back to himself each time.

He watched as Mr. Reyes took a wooden-runged ladder from a pile on the ground and set it against the trunk of the nearest tree. Deftly, he climbed a few feet, reached up, and plucked a ripe bit of fruit from one of the lower branches before coming down off the ladder assuredly, his steps practiced as if he’d done this a thousand times before. Perhaps he had.

TK held his hand out for the fruit, but Mr. Reyes pulled it back and away. “Ah, ah. This one is mine. I told you, it tastes better if you fetch it yourself. I set your example, now it’s your turn,” he said, spitefully taking bite out of his prize, then using it to gesture to the ladder.

Unfettered by Mr. Reyes’ teasing, TK was determined to show that he could keep up with his companion’s prowess. He approached the ladder, assessing it for any weak points before tentatively stepping onto the first rung. It bowed gently under his weight, and he paused a moment to gather himself.

He felt a hand upon his hip and froze for a moment, feeling distinctly untethered. Looking down, TK saw Mr. Reyes’ earnest eyes on him, one hand steadying TK on the ladder and the other still casually consuming his fruit. He gave TK a reassuring smile and nodded in the direction of the tree, encouraging.

The climb to the correct height took TK a bit longer than it had the cowboy who was used to such endeavors, but he managed. He plucked a juicy-looking specimen from a close branch before carefully climbing down, deliberately placing each footfall for optimum support from the wooden rungs below him. It was slow and arduous, but he accomplished it.

Once landed on the ground, he held up his spoil triumphantly. Mr. Reyes smiled.

“And now, Mr. City Gentleman, you have farmed apples!” He declared.

TK bit his lip for a half-second before being unable to hold back his mirthful laughter. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks ached with it, and it felt so good that he didn’t notice his companion was gazing at him once more, admiration and awe in his expression. When his laughter came down to a more manageable level a few seconds later, they were caught in each other once again, as they had been many times that day. TK’s smile was still spread across his face and he looked up through his lashes at Mr. Reyes to see a serenity over his countenance that had yet to be shown since they’d known each other.

It was beautiful.

Just as quickly as the moment had began, it passed, with Mr. Reyes fingering his collar away from his neck in what seemed like a nervous gesture. “The heat is beginning to get oppressive,” he offered in explanation, though said heat was not yet unbearable in the slightest. “We should retreat to the safety of the house.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I wonder if our parents have concluded their negotiations for the day. I’d like to convene with my father to let him know what I’ve seen.”

“Of course, well. Shall we?” Mr. Reyes gestured down the path between the trees, Jimena’s reins held loosely in his hand as he led her on foot. TK grabbed Flor’s lead and followed in quiet contemplation. He realized his manners had slipped.

“Thank you, Mr. Reyes, for this tour. It was enlightening, as well as a pleasant diversion.”

“You are most welcome. And please, call me Carlos. After all, we are to be friends, as you put it.” His smile was radiant.

“Carlos,” TK tried out the name on his tongue with a nod. It tasted like the smoothest brandy, and TK felt like he was already drunk off of one sip.

“I wanted to reiterate my apology, to make sure it is clear. I judged you and your father before I allowed you to state your intentions. Your plans for the land, so far as you’ve told me, will not impact our operation negatively and I get the distinct feeling it is your mission to keep things that way as you work your way across the country. So I thank you for your discretion, and I once again humbly ask you to forgive my behavior yesterday.”

“It is already forgiven!” TK tells him, wanting to put any and all ill will behind them after such a glorious morning. “Do not worry over it any longer. Let us be friends from this day forth.”

Carlos smiled so wide it momentarily arrested TK’s heart.

They reached the house in due course to find Elena on the porch frantically waving a piece of paper in her delicate hands. They tethered the horses to the post off the side of the house and approached. The girl looked as if she could barely form words through her excitement.

“Carlos!” She cried as they ascended the steps and removed their hats. “Guess who’s coming to the ball tomorrow night!”

“I’m sure you will tell me without me having to guess,” her brother teased good-naturedly, sharing a conspiratorial smile with TK as they passed into the foyer.

“Mr. de Castillo,” Elena said, giving the name a weight that surely meant something, but which TK could not discern. He’d never heard the name before, but then again he did not know the upper class set of this region well enough to know their names and statuses that might warrant such excitement.

When TK turned to face Carlos, he wondered what Elena could find so appealing that her brother seemed to find mildly horrifying, judging by his expression. His eyes cut to TK and they almost looked…guilty.

Elena went on, oblivious to her brother’s distress. “His letter is posted from Santa Fe nearly two weeks ago, and he says he should arrive just in time to dress and attend. Isn’t that marvelous news, Carlos? He hasn’t come east since the fall. Oh how we’ve all missed him.” She put emphasis on certain parts of her sentence that didn’t entirely make sense to TK, but he could feel a growing lump in the pit of his stomach as he watched Carlos’ face drain of color slightly.

“He sounds like a character who’s good to know, if his presence at a dance excites you this much,” he offered to Elena to try and ease the focus off of Carlos, for he seemed unable to speak at that moment.

“Oh, it’s not me he excites,” Elena said, cutting her eyes to TK’s right, smirking but saying nothing more. TK did not turn to look at Carlos again, because that lump in his stomach was getting heavier the more Elena talked and he was not rightfully sure he could put a name to it just yet. Looking at Carlos’ guilty face was surely to spell it out quicker than he’d like. He halted his train of thought and plowed on.

“Well, I look forward to meeting this esteemed Mr. de Castillo. You said he’s not come east—do you mean to say he is from the west coast?”

“Yes, San Fransisco! His father rushed there in forty-nine and made quite the coup. They’re able to give the Rockefellers a run for their money, I’d wager,” she said. “And he’s so handsome as well.”

That bit tacked on at the end was again delivered with a weighted look at Carlos which TK again ignored.

He was saved from replying to Elena’s last comment by his father and the Doña appearing in the foyer.

“What’s got everyone in a fuss?” Owen asked.

“Mr. Fernando de Castillo is coming to the ball tomorrow night!” Elena exclaimed, elated to share her momentous news with anyone who would listen.

“De Castillo…” Owen pondered, “Is that Isador de Castillo’s boy? Of San Fransisco?”

“Yes, the very same. Mr. de Castillo the younger visits us quite often, as he’s got business back east with his company and likes to stop for a week or so on his way through. We’ve all grown quite fond of him, especially Car—“

“That’s quite enough, Elena. The Mr.’s Strand are not interested in country gossip. Run along and find Constance to start your lessons. Your sisters are already studying while you’ve been flitting about.” The Doña’s voice was firm and clearly dismissive. She glanced at her son and TK in turn, before turning her attention back to Owen. “Mr. Strand, might we all go into the drawing room for tea? Our sons can regale us of their journey around the property.”

Owen’s smile was wide and eager as he looked to the two young men. “Of course, I cannot wait to hear your thoughts on the land, TK. The Doña and I will also impart to you what we’ve agreed upon thus far, though there are still the finer details to work out.”

Carlos immediately followed Owen into the room off the left side of the foyer, barely sparing TK a glance in contrast to all their lingering looks throughout the morning. That, combined with Elena’s cryptic words regarding their future guest, unsettled TK more than he would have liked. Still, he was determined to soldier on in his mission to become good friends and business partners with Carlos and the rest of the Reyes’, and he’d not let a silly thing like a matter of the heart—which may not even exist—get in his way.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #911ls #tk strand #carlos reyes #brooke writes

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howtosingit · 4 years ago

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Fic: Sometimes Things Just Fall Apart

TK comes home to a dark, silent house, no dog to greet him at the door, and a husband laying in bed, still dressed in his work uniform; it’s anything but normal.

Written for @tarlosweek2020 - Day 2: “It’s okay to cry” + Comfort

2.1K | Also on AO3.

-----

The house feels cold and empty when TK gets home from work.

It’s unsettlingly, considering the Strand-Reyes household is pretty much always bright and bursting with energy. Usually when he walks through the door, he’s met with the furry hurricane of a golden retriever, who tries to tackle him with kisses before he even slips out of his shoes. When Carlos beats him home, TK usually finds him in the kitchen, music playing and smells permeating the space as his husband prepares dinner for the two of them. He always slips in next to Carlos to claim his customary “thank you for being safe at work and coming home to me” kisses - one pressed to his forehead and one to his lips - before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sitting at the island so that they can fill each other in on their workdays.

None of that greets TK when he walks through the door today. There isn’t a single light on, and no Max to greet him with slobbery kisses. He knows Carlos is home, having pulled alongside the Camaro in the garage. He calls out as he slips off his shoes, but no one answers. A chill runs through TK when he spots Max’s leash hanging by the door, a feeling of dread coursing through him as he takes in the stark, uninviting kitchen to his left, and the equally uninhabited living room to his right.

TK cuts through the house, heading for the stairs, his heart beating heavier with each step as he searches for his husband. His mind is spinning with possible explanations, wondering what might have happened at work for Carlos to bring it home with him. TK knows that Carlos does everything he can to not let his job seep into their home, a discipline that TK has also worked to strengthen in himself. It doesn’t mean that they don’t talk about the hard days, but usually when they happen, Carlos will text him when he’s off work and they’ll spend the evening out, either at a park or seeing a movie or getting dinner. Anything to purge the pain of their work before they go to bed for the night. It’s not a perfect system, but they’ve made it work for them, and the fact that Carlos has broken the expected routine shakes TK to his core.

His fear increases when he steps onto the second-floor landing and hears no sounds from the bathroom. He wondered if Carlos may have been in the shower and not heard him when he called, but that idea dies in the continued silence. He continues forward to their bedroom, pushing against the ajar door to peer inside. His breath steals from his chest at what he finds.

Laying on the bed, back-to-back, are his two guys. Max looks up at him from his side of the bed, a concerned look on his face. The fact that he makes no move to greet him tells TK all that he needs to know. His husband lays on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, and TK notices that he’s still fully-dressed in his uniform, shoes and duty belt included. It’s such a jarring sight that TK freezes before he can even take a step into the room.

“Carlos?” he says softly, his voice carrying across the stiff silence in the room like a siren scream. There’s no movement from his husband, and TK wonders if he might be asleep. Max turns his head to nudge against the back of Carlos’s neck, a soft whine escaping him; TK feels his heart break.

He moves quietly, circling around the foot of the bed to stand in front of Carlos. He’s shocked to find his eyes open, the brown irises that are usually filled with love and warmth unnervingly blank as they stare straight ahead at the far corner of the room. His husband makes no indication that he’s even noticed him.

TK slowly sinks to his knees, bringing them face-to-face. Carlos continues to stare through him, his expression an unchanging mask. “Hey, you,” TK whispers, a forced smile forming on his face as he tries to get any sort of reaction out of his husband. It’s not until he brings a hand up to delicately grip Carlos’s wrist that his husband finally notices his presence.

It’s sudden, a visible shiver running down his entire body as his eyes blink warily, his pupils dilating as they shift to focus on TK. The moment their eyes meet, TK watches as Carlos’s eyebrows furrow in distress, the crease between them intensifying dramatically. He feels his heart split open in his chest, Carlos’s obvious pain stabbing him like a dozen knives. They’ve been that way since they first started dating, so completely linked that their emotions sometimes blend together into something they both carry for one another.

TK leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m right here, okay?” he murmurs, shifting to touch his lips to Carlos’s cheek. He feels his husband shake beneath him as an uneven sigh escapes his lips. “Can we take off your uniform? You can’t be comfortable, babe.”

There’s a pause as TK stays close, waiting for Carlos to respond. When he does, with a silent nod, TK presses another kiss to his skin before pulling back to stand up.

It’s a slow process, but he doesn’t care. He gets Carlos into a sitting position, and item-by-item he undresses his husband, starting with his belt and shoes. He notices that Carlos’s gun is missing and he’s relieved to know that, despite whatever happened today, his husband wasn’t out of it enough to not put his firearm in the safe. As each article of clothing is removed, TK presses a soft kiss to Carlos’s exposed skin.

His husband, usually so large and physically imposing but now so small and reserved, stares up at him as he completes his task. Finally, Carlos is left only in his boxer briefs and undershirt, and TK quickly undresses down to the same before taking his husband’s hand and pulling him to lay back down on the bed, this time the two of them laying face-to-face. He notices that Max has moved to his own bed in the corner, happy to let TK take over as caregiver now that he’s home.

“Thank you,” Carlos breathes out, his first words striking hard after such a heavy absence. They’re close enough that TK can feel his breath on his face, and he takes a moment to rub their noses together, bringing a hand up to run his fingers along Carlos’s jaw.

“Of course,” TK responds just as quietly, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

TK is relieved when Carlos immediately nods, though he says nothing at first.

“I’m here when you’re ready, okay? Take your time,” he confirms, scooting closer to press their bodies fully together. He stares into Carlos’s eyes, watching as his usually warm brown irises swim with tears that refuse to fall. He’s terrified, having no idea what could’ve happened for Carlos to react like this, his mind supplying the absolute worst-case scenarios. Then, suddenly, as if he’s dragging the words through his throat from his core, Carlos stutters out just two words.

“Maureen called.”

TK’s brain stops short, every explanation that his brain had been expecting vanishing into thin air at Carlos’s response. He feels like he’s been shut inside of a walk-in freezer, every inch of his body erupting in one long, chilled-to-the-bone shiver. Through the roaring in his ears, he hears himself let out a stuttering gasp. He can feel a prickle at the corner of his eyes as his mind pieces together Carlos’s behavior with news from Maureen, and he closes them before a tear can fall, trying to take a deep breath to calm down.

They’ve been struggling through the process of adopting a child for almost a year and a half, cycling through stages of hope and grief almost daily. They were warned, multiple times, that adoption was a complicated and long journey towards starting a family, especially as gay men in Texas with high-risk jobs. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the pain of getting a little closer each time before it all came crashing down with a single call from Maureen, their adoption counselor.

“It’s okay to cry, Ty,” his husband says, a hand coming up to caress his cheek. TK, suddenly overwhelmed, feels his face crumble as a laugh-sob crawls up his throat.

“You stole my line,” he chokes out, opening his eyes again to find Carlos staring at him through his own tear-filled eyes. “Why didn’t you call me, sweetheart?”

“I missed her call,” Carlos explains, his voice thick with emotion, “and couldn’t reach her until I was on my way home. I didn’t want to ruin the end of your day, too.”

This is the third time they’ve actively pursued an adoption opportunity; the previous two times, they did everything they could to remain realistic, reaching a point where they wouldn’t talk to anyone else about it. They’re not superstitious, exactly, it’s just that the more they talk about it, the more they plan and consider what life will be like with a child. They got even further this time, and maybe dared to hope too much. TK watches as Carlos continues to grieve for the lost children they’ll never have, and it breaks his heart every time.

“It kills me to think of you dealing with this alone,” TK worriedly admits, pulling Carlos closer. His husband shifts to press his face in TK’s neck, his favorite place to be, and TK grips him tighter as he feels Carlos shake with new sobs.

“I really thought it was going to happen this time,” he cries softly, TK feeling his tears finally fall onto his neck. He squeezes his own eyes shut, his own tears falling as he presses his face into Carlos’s dark curls.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

“What if it never does?” Carlos questions after a moment, and TK can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s voicing his greatest fear out-loud for the first time.

“Hey,” TK hedges, pulling back to take his husband’s face in both hands. He stares into those deep brown eyes and knows that he would give anything to bring back their unmatched warmth. “You, Carlos Strand-Reyes, are going to be a dad, okay? Your heart is so big, your love is so strong, and I know that you’re meant to share it with someone who will admire you as much as I do. Someone that you and I will raise and love and adore more than anyone else on this earth. That’s our story, Carlos, that’s what we decided, and just because we haven’t gotten to that chapter, it doesn’t mean we’re going to rewrite it, okay? It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen, I know it will.”

Carlos just stares at him when he goes quiet, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes glisten with fresh tears.

“I love you, Ty,” he gasps, pressing in to claim TK’s lips with his own. It’s a hard, desperate kiss, full of the lingering grief and sudden emptiness that the day has brought, but like every kiss they share, it’s also filled with overwhelming love and comfort, the kind that only they can provide to one another.

When they break apart, Carlos presses their foreheads together. “You’re going to be the best dad in the world, you know that?” he whispers, nudging their noses together.

“I’m not so sure,” TK laughs gently, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s lips, salty from their tears. “You’ll probably have me beat.”

“I’m serious, Ty,” Carlos presses further, his tone making that clear. “The way you take care of all of us, the way you care for me… I can’t wait to see you with our child. It’s going to be breathtaking.”

“How about a tie then?” TK relents, a smile growing on his lips. “You and me, Best Dads in the World.”

“That’ll be one lucky kid,” Carlos laughs, wrapping his arms around TK’s waist.

TK feels his heart clench in his chest as he watches his husband’s eyes crinkle, their familiar warmth gradually reappearing.

“You have no idea,” TK agrees, tightening his grip on Carlos, their closeness like a salve for their mutually broken hearts.

In each other’s arms, they begin to heal.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #tarlosweek2020 #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing

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221bsunsettowers · 4 years ago

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Carlos/TK: You Had a Speech, You’re Speechless

Summary: It was just supposed to be a quick trip to the bank. Carlos should have been right back. Now all TK can do is wait to hear his husband's voice again.

Thanks to @brilliantbanshee for the prompt/couple choice, and @prodigalleverage @meloingly @magnusluvsalec and @itswoxo for helping me choose which direction to go in, and for being so excited to read this story!

Written for Bad Things Happen Bingo

Fandom: 9-1-1 Lone Star

Pairing: TK/Carlos

Prompt: Communication Suddenly Cut Off

(No major character death, though there is major character wounding. Blood and a gunshot wound are mentioned.)

(can also be read on Ao3)

"Mmm, baby, you were right, that was exactly what I needed," TK sighs happily, laying his fork down on his now empty plate.

"I thought you might be hungry after that long shift," Carlos smiles, and TK leans across the table to kiss his husband, smirking as he whispers in Carlos' ear,

"Now I'm ready for some dessert," TK smirks as a flush quickly spreads up Carlos' cheeks,

"Hold that thought, please," Carlos begs, nipping at TK's bottom lip, chuckling at the moan his action elicts. Standing up, Carlos reaches into his wallet, extracting a check with a smile and a sigh. "My abuela still insists on doing everything on paper, so I got a check for Christmas." Bending down to kiss TK again, he gestures at the bank across the street. "I need to deposit it so I can tell her it's safe and sound in the bank."

"You are too adorable to be real," TK grins, shaking his head, planting a kiss on Carlos' cheek. "I'm going to enjoy the last few sips of this horchata, and then when you get back here, we can head on home."

"What, you don't want to come wait in line with me?" Carlos teases.

"If I come with you, I won't be able to keep my hands off you, so unless you want to scandalize the local bank tellers..." TK trails off with a mischevious grin, laughing as Carlos immediately blushes again.

"If I wasn't an officer of the law, I'd be cutting right to the front of the line, sweetheart." Carlos leans down for one more kiss, before heading across the street and up the bank's front steps.

TK can't stop smiling as he leans back in his chair, taking a sip of the iced horchata in front of him. He finds himself just watching the bank entrance, waiting for Carlos to emerge, imagining the epic eye roll and immense amount of teasing he would get from Marjan if she could see him now.

The waitress comes over to pour him a refill, and TK glances away from the bank for what he will swear was less than a minute. By the time he looks back, the door is swinging shut behind a group of men.

And then his phone rings.

Carlos' picture flashes on the screen, a photo from their wedding day, a candid Michelle had caught of Carlos' just gazing over at TK, eyes soft and smile stretching across his face. TK grins, immediately answering, but before he can get a fond word out he hears something that almost makes him drop his phone. The sound is muffled, smothered by wherever Carlos must have quickly hidden his phone, but it is clear enough that TK forgets how to breathe.

"This is a robbery, people, so cooperate or someone's getting hurt!" a man's voice yells. "I will shoot you if I have to!"

Later, when an officer is taking TK's statement, TK will find he can't remember this part of the story. He will suppose he must have gone on autopilot as he got the attention of the waitress and told her what to say. The waitress will still remember the instructions exactly, the fear and excitement of the moment having kept them fresh in her brain. She was told to call 9-1-1, say there was a robbery at the bank, tell them there were hostages so not to use their sirens, make sure to tell them Officer Carlos Strand-Reyes is one of the hostages, that he has opened a direct line from inside the bank to his husband's cell phone.

What TK will remember is the absolute terror that came from being able to hear everything happening inside, but not being able to do anything. He couldn't offer Carlos any comfort, couldn't tell him he loved him, had to keep himself muted and listening to the constant stream of terrified shouts and hostile yelling, and no word from Carlos. He knew Carlos was staying quiet so the robbers wouldn't see the phone, so they wouldn't figure out he was a cop (and TK will be forever grateful it was Carlos' day off and he didn't have his uniform or badge on him), so he could take advantage of a moment and try to stop what was happening (and damn Carlos' beautiful, kind, giving heart, TK thought, a thought that will rack him with guilt later, but one he will always find at the forefront of his mind whenever Carlos is saving someone else at the risk of his own safety-and yes, TK recognizes the irony given his professional choice).

The second police officers begin their sprint up the street, TK is running towards them, heading right for the highest ranking one there. In the three years he and Carlos' have been together, the year and a half they have been married, TK has gotten to know everyone at the station, just like Carlos' knows every member of TK's team. Thanks to the waitress passing on the message to 9-1-1, all TK has to do is hold out his phone and they know they have their best shot at figuring out the safest way to end this situation.

Having to let his phone go feels like severing his lifeline to his husband, but TK knows it's his best weapon against those who could actually take Carlos away from him forever.

All he can do now is wait, and he's never felt more helpless in his life. He runs his fingers over his wedding band, normally a soothing motion to ground him, bring him back, but today all it does is remind him that his husband is somewhere he can't follow.

A hand on his shoulder, and TK whirls around, collapsing into his father's arms. "Hey, ssh, it's all going to be okay, son," Owen murmurs into TK's ear, rubbing circles on his back as TK shakes in his embrace. TK buries his face in Owen's shoulder, trying to shut the world out for even a second, but it doesn't work. Carlos is in trouble, Carlos is in danger, Carlos is in a room full of people who don't know how beautiful and perfect and important he is, he could be collateral to them, a casualty along the way, and TK is spiraling as he feels the tightness of a panic attack clutch at his chest.

His father guides him to the curb, gently pushes his head down between his knees, and reminds him to breathe, count his breath, match his breath, there you go, and TK can hear Carlos' voice echoing the words with Owen, and TK breathes. It's enough to keep surviving, but it's not truly living again until he has Carlos back in his arms.

Suddenly there is yelling, everyone is in motion, moving towards the bank doors, and then there is a gunshot.

One single gunshot.

And somehow TK knows. Call it soulmates, call it a fated bond, call it whatever you like, TK is screaming before the cops rush up the steps, he is wailing before the bank doors open, he is sobbing before hostages are hurried outside and the robbers are shoved to the floor.

Carlos turns, slowly, as TK is sprinting towards him.

Carlos turns, meets TK's eyes, and collapses onto his knees. He looks down in numb shock at his left hand, pressed against the bullet hole in his stomach, as blood pours from between his fingers.

And then Carlos' body collapses completely, until he is face first on the cold tile floor, and TK can't even produce words, just a tragedy of heart shattering sounds as he desperately lunges up the stairs and drops to his knees next to his husband. TK's fingers find Carlos' pulse before the paramedics can even reach out a hand, and he sags in terrified relief, because Carlos is alive this second, but what about the next, and that next second is why TK allows himself to be moved to the side as the paramedics get to work. He knows he cannot assist on this one, he's barely breathing himself, just out of sight of the love of his life.

Stumbling into the back of the ambulance, TK grabs Carlos' hand, the actions of the paramedics a blur around them. "Stay with me, baby," TK begs, fingers back on Carlos' too slow pulse. "I love you so much, please don't leave me, Carlos, you can't, please baby, stay with me."

Around him TK hears a whirl of sounds, but Carlos is silent.

*** And this is how it has been since, everything around TK a whirl, and the voice he needs the most locked behind an operating room door where TK can not follow.

Owen made TK sit and get a few sips of water in him. Members of the 126 had come in and out as they were able, making sure at least one of them was there at all times. TK had called Carlos' family, who had been out on a day trip and immediately turned back around (TK was just so glad they had heard what had happened from him and not from a television set). Clean clothes and coffee had appeared, and TK had been coaxed into taking two minutes to change his clothes and scrub Carlos' blood from his hands (an action that had left him sobbing in Judd's arms by the bathroom sink).

Owen has just run to the bathroom himself when TK is approached by a group of people, maybe ten or so in all. "Hi, we're so sorry to bother you," a young woman says, and TK looks up at her, exhaustion and confusion clearly showing on his face. "The nurse said you're the family of the man from the bank who saved us."

"I wanted to say thank you!" pipes up a small voice in the middle of the group, and TK cranes his neck to see a little boy holding the hands of two men. "My Daddy and Papa said that he made sure they made it home okay." The little boy reaches up to one of the men, who hands him a stuffed animal tiger, which the boy then hands to TK. "Can you give this to him when he wakes up?"

TK cradles the tiger in his hands, and chuckles wetly, nodding. "My husband actually calls me Tiger," TK says softly, and finds within himself a smile to give the boy. "He will love this."

"Have you heard anything?" another member of the group asks, and just then a doctor comes out, and TK makes a beeline towards him.

"Family of Carlos' Strand-Reyes?" the doctor inquires, and TK puts a hand up.

"I'm his husband," TK says, voice shaking, running a hand over his tear-streaked face. "Is he okay?"

"He's going to be fine," the doctor says with a smile, and TK feels his body sag in such relief, he would have hit the floor if his father hadn't suddenly appeared behind him to keep him standing. "The bullet was lodged inside, but it was as easy a removal as one could hope for, and no internal organs were damaged. Your husband is extremely lucky, Mr. Strand-Reyes."

"We both are," TK exhales, and he knows he's crying again. He can hear the group around him clapping and cheering. "Can I see him?"

"Of course, he's being moved to his room now," the doctor assures him, and TK clutches the stuffed tiger to his chest, practically nipping at the doctor's heels as they walk towards Carlos' room.

Carlos is so still on the hospital bed, but he is breathing without assistance. TK can hear the beautifully familar sound of the in and out of his husband's breath, finally he can hear Carlos, finally he can hear his husband again. Collapsing into the chair next to the bed, TK tucks the stuffed tiger in the crook of Carlos' arm, before carefully resting his head on Carlos' chest, encircling his husband's wrist with his fingers. The steady beat of Carlos's heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the rhythm of his pulse, lulls TK finally into a semblance of sleep.

"Two tigers, huh? How'd I get so lucky?"

TK whips his head up, blinks his eyes, and then there is Carlos', eyes open, talking. TK can hear his voice, he can hear his husband's voice, a little weaker than usual, but still the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

"Carlos," TK chokes out, and he is immediately climbing onto the bed, avoiding wires and wounds, and wrapping Carlos' in his shaking arms, feeling Carlos' arms come up to hold him close.

"Sweetheart," Carlos breathes out, his voice ruffling his husband's hair, and TK clutches at him tighter, before picking his head up and kissing Carlos', deep and slow, pulling back just enough to rest their foreheads together and meet Carlos' eyes.

"I love you, so much," TK whispers against Carlos' skin, pressing kisses along his jaw, another on his lips. "You're a hero, you know. That's where that tiger came from. You saved a whole lot of people, including the dads of the little boy who brought it for you."

"I'm sorry," Carlos starts, and TK kisses him again, this time stopping the words on purpose.

"Do not apologize, baby," TK assures him, running his hand down his cheek. "You have the most amazing heart, the most beautiful soul. You've always been my hero. I wouldn't have expected anything else from you."

Carlos smiles, and TK can see he's fighting to stay awake, the flow through the IV bringing him back under for more healing. TK brushes a kiss across his husband's forehead, before snuggling in under Carlos' arm, bringing his head back to Carlos' chest. "Get some sleep, hero," TK says, lacing their fingers together. "I'll be right here."

"I love you so much too," Carlos murmurs, and TK hears every word.

@bikingthroughhawkins @officereyes @i-had-bucky @highqualitykhakis @meloingly

You can still request concussion, shot with an arrow, confrontation, ambulance ride, dehydration, magical curse, or stabbing for TK/Carlos, Buck/Eddie, Geralt/Jaskier, or Magnus/Alec :)

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punksarahreese · 4 years ago

Text

Rupture | Marjan Marwani

Part 2 to Don’t want to (die)

CW: medical gore, surgery talk, mentions of dying

Word count: 1973

***

“Michelle?” Nancy had returned from her walk to get coffee for them, though Tim was nowhere in sight. Instead, Nancy was flanked by Owen and TK, who both looked quite worried. Of course they were, everyone was. She knew there was no sense telling them to go back and wait at the station, just as much as she knew the rest of the crew would arrive soon. Owen would hover, like he always does, and try to make sure everyone was remaining positive. Grace would arrive eventually, to check on Judd and everyone else. They would all remain in the waiting room at least until they had an update, just like they did when TK got shot.

“She’s in surgery,” she told Owen slowly, standing on shaky legs. Nancy was quick to help her, a gentle hand wrapping around her arm for added stability. Her blood pressure was probably low, paired with her rapid heart rate from the stress of the situation. No one commented on it and Michelle just shot Nancy a thankful look, accepting the disposable coffee cup she was handed. She stopped to take a sip of the caffeinated beverage, wincing at the acrid, lukewarm excuse for coffee.

“And her injuries?”

“Pretty major,” she admitted, “I was right about the ribs, 8th and 9th left ribs fractured severely.”

“Ouch,” TK mumbled, “Anything else?”

“The surgeon hasn’t come to update us yet but she had fluid in her abdomen and the likelihood of a splenic or renal rupture is really high...”

That had Owen sighing, his hand landing on TK’s good shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He was having trouble separating this from the times his son was in a similar situation, that was obvious. Even if it was different, Marjan was basically family and this was enough to scare the Hell out of all of them. Everything was so uncertain and it felt too surreal, fear palpable between them.

“Cap?” Mateo’s voice had them turning, drawing Owen’s attention away to the rest of the crew. Michelle took that as a moment to drop her brave face, with everyone else preoccupied as TK and his dad informed them of the situation. Nancy noticed her attitude change, she always did, and her arm was around her waist in seconds.

“You okay, Chelle?”

She shrugged, letting her lead her back to the chairs they had been occupying. She and Marjan had begun hanging out outside work recently and Michelle wouldn’t hesitate to call her a good friend. Everything about this was horrible, none of the crew should get hurt, but the fact that it was Marjan was somehow worse. She was so selfless and so fearless, ready to jump into danger both to help people and for the sheer excitement. She wanted to help, she always helped, and this wasn’t fair. Besides that, Michelle was just tired. She knew she would be preoccupied with answering everyone’s questions and checking on them all evening. She didn’t mind, of course, but it was overwhelming. Nancy knew that, she knew exactly how situations like this went and how much her captain internalized it.

“She’s strong,” Nancy reminded her gently as she nudged Michelle into her chair, “Just breathe.”

“I’m scared, Nanc,” her admission was barely audible but she still heard it, immediately taking Michelle’s shaking hand in hers. There was no need for a reply, nothing could be said to make this better. Nancy knew better than to waste her energy making up promises neither of them could be sure of, nor would she even think of doing that to Michelle. She didn’t need coddling or uncertain promises, she just needed an anchor in that moment. So they sat in silence instead, hands clasped together tightly, and it wasn’t perfect but it did help.

***

Two hours passed before any update was heard. Grace showed up eventually, immediately beelining for her husband like she always did. Still, Michelle watched as she stopped in front of Mateo, who looked to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Grace tapped on his arm gently and opened her arms without a word, drawing the young firefighter into a gentle embrace. Grace’s hugs were always so warm and maternal and Michelle was glad she was there. These firefighters never liked to show weakness or be vulnerable, so it was times like these where an outside support was needed. It was clear in the way Mateo thanked her quietly and smiled a little, albeit it didn’t really reach his eyes.

“You hang in there, sweetheart,” she replied and let him sit back down, finally going over to Judd. It was moments like this where Michelle realized just how much of a family the 126 had become and it made her so grateful. After the accident with the original crew she wasn’t sure Judd would be the same again, nor did she think the new crew would be able to get their feet on the ground in the beginning. Yet despite all the stress and change, they managed to find real trust and love in each other. As terrifying as this all was, they were lucky to have each other through it all.

It was still weird, though, because something felt wrong. It was worse than it was with TK, somehow, because they all felt Marjan’s absence so blatantly. Her love language was tiny acts of service, it was how she coped, and in a moment like this they noticed the difference. Marjan was usually wandering between everyone, handing out coffees and offering a reassuring touch or a smile. Without her familiar support and comfort, the waiting room felt even more cold and uncertain. It was never comfortable to be down a team member, especially in such a situation, but missing Marjan in particular was exceptionally hard.

The doors to the OR hall opened and the woman Michelle recognized as one of the trauma surgeons stepped out. She looked around the crowded waiting room for a moment before looking at Michelle, simply because she knew her from previous calls they had brought patients here from.

“You’re with Ms. Marwani?”

“Y-yes,” Michelle glanced back at everyone, “We all are.”

“She’s out of surgery. The rib fractures were severe, we needed to realign them with titanium plates to ensure proper healing. The shards from the break also ruptured her spleen and the damage was extensive, I’m afraid we had to remove it completely.”

“Will she be okay?” Mateo’s question was one they all silently echoed.

“She will be in the ICU until she wakes up, from there we will monitor her for as long as we see necessary. Her recovery will be extensive, I’m afraid, but she got out of surgery with minor complications.”

***

Michelle was allowed to see her after about another hour, though she was told visiting hours would be over quite soon. She didn’t mind, though, she just needed to see Marjan for herself. After she had passed out mid-sentence in the ambulance, Michelle had been absolutely terrified. She was shaking like a leaf when she had to intubate her, knowing in that moment exactly why doctors weren’t allowed to work on friends or family. It was hard to depersonalize, especially when Marjan’s life hung in the balance, and Nancy had had to take over the ambu bag when Michelle was shaking too hard.

From a medical standpoint it didn’t look good at all, especially not when Marjan’s stats dropped and her heart rate was uncontrollable. The portable ultrasound had confirmed fluid in the upper left quadrant, which was indicative of a major internal bleed. They got her to the hospital in time but seeing her unconscious and almost coding on that gurney had Michelle more terrified for a crew member than she had ever been.

The ICU was an uncomfortable place for Michelle. It reminded her too much of her dad’s last moments, the way she had held Iris and promised they would be okay. It was all too reminiscent of the times she spent waiting in those uncomfortable leather chairs for good news that would never come. She could almost hear her mother’s sobs from across the ICU, even years later. Still, she let the nurse lead her down the hall to a corner room, thanking her when she opened the sliding door for her and waved her in.

Marjan was unconscious as expected, no longer intubated but hooked up to essentially every other life-sustaining machine in the room. A quick glance at her heart monitor told her she was stable, but Michelle’s stomach still dropped at the sight. She looked impossibly pale, all the usually spunk and confidence sapped from her body. She didn’t stir when Michelle approached, the only signs of life being the telltale beeping of her heart monitor and the slight rise and fall of her chest.

“Marj,” she sighed as she pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the head of the bed, “What did you get yourself into?”

She didn’t sit down right away, though, because something was bothering her. Her eyes scanned the room before landing on what she was looking for. A plastic bag full of Marjan’s clothes that survived the accident and her other belongings. Michelle went over to the counter to grab them, rummaging through the thing in vague annoyance until she found what she was looking for.

“I know it was a sterility issue but really?” she grumbled as she walked back over to Marjan, “I’m sorry, I’ll make sure they leave it be, okay?”

She busied herself with carefully draping Marjan’s scarf back over her head, careful not to jostle her or obstruct any wires. She figured the other woman would appreciate that, especially since she was already in a vulnerable situation. Limited in knowledge and mobility in that moment, Michelle just settled for tucking it around her as best she could, hoping it would at least make her feel more secure if she woke up with any staff or the crew around.

“There,” she sat down when she was content, studying her friend’s unmoving face for a moment. It still felt so surreal, the whole thing, but this helped a little. She was unconscious and her recovery would be extensive, it would be months before she could even step foot in a firetruck again, but she was alive. In that moment, that’s what made Michelle feel a bit more grounded. She tried to ignore the fact that there was a large plastic tube sticking out from her abdomen to drain excess fluid from her splenectomy, not to mention the fact that Marjan would be way more susceptible to infection until her other organs could take over her spleen’s job. They would cross that bridge when they got there, she figured, but Marjan being alive was the most important thing.

Michelle shifted a little in the stiff chair, uncomfortable with the way her uniform had begun to chafe her skin. Carlos had offered her a ride home when he was leaving with TK but she had declined, citing the fact that she wanted to stay with Marjan a bit more. He had looked at her with a sad expression, yet simply offered his best friend another reassuring hug before taking TK’s hand to leave. Everyone else had gone home because visiting hours would end soon anyway, planning to come back the next day to check on Marjan. Michelle couldn’t bring herself to leave, though, as much as she wanted to change out of her uniform and sleep away the stress of the day.

Marjan needed someone, especially right then, and the least she could do was be there for her. Maybe that’s what prompted Michelle to take her cold hand in her own, holding it close in an attempt to warm up her poorly oxygenated skin. She held onto her tightly, something in her brain screaming that she needed to. It was as if Michelle thought Marjan would disappear if she let go of her after that, which only prompted her to keep a careful hold on her limp hand.

“I’ve got you, Marj,” she murmured, though maybe it was for herself when she added, “You’re not going anywhere, okay?”

#don’t like the ending but anyway #I know I said I was on an angst break but #a random spark of inspiration made me do it #forgive me <3 #also idk why my brain decided this was Marchelle centric because they’re Not Together but y’know #it be like that #911 ls #911 lone star #marjan marwani #michelle blake #userglow #userthai #usermaximus #userjillian #tuserjamie #idk who else to tag lmao but notice me lone star stans <3

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poeedamerons · 5 years ago

Text

busco en la memoria una señal (diga que no me olvidaras)

Day 1 of 9-1-1 Lone Star Week — Read it on A03

Carlos parter, Officer Parish is the one to tell him all about his accident, how a branch fell right off a tree onto his head. Lucky for him, the branch was not big enough to cause too much damage, other than a mild concussion.

But that did not stop him from going out like a light as soon as it hit his head, and Carlos was rushed to the ER by the EMT team on site. It didn’t take him long to wake up, but the medical staff fussed all over him and kept him on probation despite him looking no worse for the wear.

Carlos doesn't really mind being looked over and understands the seriousness of his injury, but staying on a hospital bed when he feels mostly fine — even if his head throbbed a little — is something Carlos absolutely loathes.

Then again, according to Parish, Michelle was in one of her moods after Carlos got hit and he is not at all eager to deal with that anytime soon, so maybe lingering on a hospital bed, far from her reach for time being didn’t sound entirely unpleasant.

It turns out that Carlos did, in fact, have some side effects from the blow. What clued them all in was the arrival of a certain firefighter, that crossed the threshold of the room looking dishevelled, out of breath, eyes brimming with concern.

At first, the arrival of the stranger meant nothing to Carlos, he only took a quick glance at said man entering the room before looking back at the doctor in front of his bed, but grew more wary as the stranger approached his bedside and started asking a million questions in one breath.

Carlos cocked his head in confusion and wonder of who the good looking stranger might be and why he was talking to him, but the look on his face was the cue the doctor needed to ask if he knew the man in question.

Inexplicably, Carlos is hesitant in giving his answer - oddly afraid of hurting the stranger - but he lightly shakes his head and his brows draw together as he registers how his answer throws the other man’s countenance off. That’s not a look that Carlos wishes to see again, it tugs a knot in his heart and he has no idea why.

The doctors said the memory loss would be a temporary situation and Carlos certainly hoped they were right about that. It isn’t as if most of his life is suddenly gone from his memory. Carlos is certain he remembers his life, it’s just the gaps of recent months and things like TK’s — Carlos learns that is the name of the stranger — existence that is missing from his mind.

If asked about it Carlos would never be able to explain how or why he ends up in TK's care after he is discharged. No one even questions the man’s presence by his side. The medical staff defered to TK when talking about what precautions should be taken at home and Carlos was too flabbergasted to speak.

The drive home is uneventful and gives Carlos new opportunities to observe the other man.TK fills their time with clever and nonsensical talk that gets Carlos laughing, carefree all the way. He does notice the furtive glances TK throws in his direction and Carlos tries not to find it completely endearing, but that is a battle he lost before it even began.

As they pull into Carlos driveway, he can’t help but wonder about TK’s role in his life, because he is aware that TK did not ask for directions to his house, he drove them through the streets of Austin like it was a second nature to him, the path from the hospital to his house one that TK’s very familiar with. That is enough evidence in Carlos' judgment to suggest that TK is no mere acquaintance and that they have a deeper relationship than the few months they knew each other.

Carlos decides then that he will wait for the right moment when they are properly set up inside his house to ask TK more questions about himself because, ever the cop, Carlos is eager to start filling the missing puzzles in his mind and TK is a big one, without a doubt.

“Are you hungry?” TK asks him, a gentle smile adorning his face as they drop their stuff in the living room. “I could make you something to eat. I know hospital food isn’t up to your high standards.” TK lips curl conspiratorially, like that knowledge about Carlos amuses him more than anything else in the world.

Carlos can’t help but grin back. If TK knows that about him, he must know him pretty well. “Yes,” He calls back as he settles down on the couch, facing TK. “But I don’t remember how talented you are,” He teases the other man. “I might be setting myself up to eat something even worse than hospital food.”

“You injure me, sir!” TK replies in mock insult, clutching a hand over his heart. Carlos chuckles at TK’s theatrics.

“I will have you know that while I might not make tamales to die for, but I'm a pretty decent cook.” TK says but his eyes sparkle with delight over their little exchange.

Carlos amusement dies on his lips, staring at TK, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise.

“What?” TK asks, dumbfounded at the sudden change in Carlos' expression.

“Have I…” Carlos' voice trembles, feeling choked up. “Have I made you tamales before?” Carlos' heart is beating fast, like it wants to be free from it’s cage. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins, warmth spreading all over him.

“Yes, many times,” TK hesitates, eyes scanning Carlos' face for any indication of what just happened. “Is there something wrong, Carlos?” TK asks weakly, his early cheery mood suddenly gone.

“No, no…” Carlos licks his dried lips. “Nothing is wrong.” Carlos' murmurs. “I would love to see how decent you are at cooking, especially when you set the bar so low for yourself as an improvement from hospital food.” He tries to switch back to their earlier mood, hoping TK won’t question it further.

“You got it, officer.” TK throws him a wink and swings back to man the kitchen.

It all makes sense to Carlos now. He and TK are dating, and that is why no one even batted an eye when TK showed up and kept Carlos company. Austin Memorial is one of their to go places, so the staff is familiar with a good number of the first responders that constantly show up with some occupational hazard. Since Carlos did not recognize TK, they must have decided not to overwhelm him with the fact that he didn’t remember who his own boyfriend was.

TK is really something special for handling it all like a champ, not saying a word and not making a move to make him feel uncomfortable. He had been nothing but thoughtful and tender since they left the hospital. No wonder he made his marriage tamales, not once but several times.

Carlos smiles thinking that he did pick a good one, and really easy on the eyes as well. TK was a hunk of a man.

When his mother taught him and his sisters how to make her famous tamales, she made them promise that they wouldn’t make it for anyone but for the person they wanted to marry, their other half. Carlos and his sisters, being die hard romantics, took their promise to heart. So far Valentina and Sofía had only cooked their mami’s marriage tamales for their now husbands.

If Carlos made them for TK, it can only mean one thing: he’s hopelessly in love. Carlos' heart fills with warmth and joy for having found his other half in TK. His heart swells remembering how delighted TK's voice sounded when he talked about Carlos tamales and is sure an affectionate look adorns his face.

Carlos marvels as TK cooks them dinner and there’s no denying the man is used to the place. He knows where Carlos keeps everything. He doesn't’ waver for a moment, looking absolutely comfortable in Carlos' kitchen, like that is a natural occurrence…. and Carlos figures it is.

He figures they are not yet on the ‘living together’ stage yet, but to Carlos it looks like it’s just a matter of time. A smile tugs at the corner of Carlos' lips and he tries to fight it, certain it will become a shit eating grin of triumph.

TK was his boyfriend for sure.

“So, how long have we been together?” Carlos breaths, eager to know more about them.

TK looks up, quirking his eyebrows. “Together?”

Carlos rolls his eyes indulgently before repeating his question. “How long have we been dating?”

“We are not together.” TK states, a little strained, his face blank.

“Did we break it off?” Carlos pouts, confused. If they broke it off then why did TK show up in the hospital looking like he had run a marathon to get there? Why did he look so worried? Were they still on a friendly enough basis that TK would still worry for his well being?

“No, I mean…” TK pauses, rubbing his forehead before continuing. “We are kind of hooking up?” He shrugs his shoulders.

Oh. Carlos is speechless and feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. If he made TK tamales and they are just ‘hooking up’, then Carlos must be more invested than TK. Carlos knows his heart just broke a little in that moment, and he wants to punch himself for being so stupid and setting himself up for a heartbreak. TK isn’t in love with him.

He wants to throw up just thinking that this might be how TK acts around everyone and it's not just something special for him. He just can't believe he would break his promise over someone that considers him a… booty call.

It just doesn't add up.

God, his mami would be so disappointed in him, actually, she wouldn’t, she would be sad, just like he is. He still doesn't remember anything about his and TK’s relationship — if one can call it that — but he feels the loss keenly.

“Why do you ask that?” TK’s voice takes Carlos from his internal struggle.

Carlos ponders at how he should proceed forward with this conversation. TK has the upper hand of knowing their story, for a lack of better word, and Carlos would be shooting in the dark all through it… but isn’t lack of communication what apparently led them to this moment? Because TK does appear to be clueless about the meaning of the tamales and even about how deep Carlos' feelings were running before the accident earlier today. He decides on saying the truth, better clear any misunderstanding than playing whatever game it is that they got themselves into.

“TK..” Carlos' clears his throat. “I don’t remember you or us.” He states matter of factly, hoping TK would not be hurt by it. “So, I don’t understand the reasons behind a lot of things I’ve witnessed today.” Carlos takes a deep breath, hoping for strength, but he just feels defeated.

“But when you said I had made you those tamales… they have meaning for me, for my family.” He chances a glance up and visibly sees TK flinching. “My mami taught me and my sisters how to make it and they are meant for a special person in our lives,” He didn’t need to tell TK the whole marriage part, did he? It was all very serious already. “A really special person.” Carlos catches TK’s eyes in hope that he can convey through them his true meaning, and by how TK’s eyes widen, he is sure he understood it.

“So I just...thought that meant we were together.” Carlos swallows dry and avoids TK’s stare. “I’ve never cooked them before.” He admits it hollowly. Carlos knows that this is it, this is how things with TK will go south. He doesn't know how he knows it ,he just has a gut feeling.

Carlos doesn't dare to steal a look at where TK is standing, afraid of what he might see, but he just can’t bring himself to fill in the awkward silence that took over the room. He glues his eyes to the upholstery as he tried to blink away the tears.

“I…” Carlos hears TK’s breathing grow uneven. “I can’t, Carlos. This… this is all too much.”

Against his better judgment, Carlos peeks at TK and he looks...agitated. His pupils dilated, his hands fumbling with the sleeves of his shirt and his teeth gnaws at the loose skin on his lips. Carlos does not know what to say, he can hardly process TK’s erratic behavior.

TK starts pacing between the small space from the kitchen to the living room. “This is not what I signed up for, not what we agreed..” TK blurts in accusation and Carlos flinches.

“You know —” TK stops mid sentence, because before the accident Carlos did know, the one in front of him now has no idea whatsoever. “I’m just not good with relationships and I’ve told you before. You knew this, Carlos.” TK emphasis feels like a sucker punch. “I’ve told you so many times how hard this is all for me, plus the move and my dad—” TK’s voice turns into a whine, running his fingers through his hair while pacing back and forth, practically caving a hole through the ground floor. “I just can’t believe you would not get that.” TK sighs.

Carlos wants to say something, but what? God, this is messed up and Carlos can’t help but feel a little guilty for TK’s reaction. While one can’t fight how their feelings develop, if TK told him about his struggles, keeping the charade in hopes that TK would eventually keep up was not his brightest moment; but Carlos knew himself. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Even if TK was unaware of the importance behind the tamales, Carlos is very affectionate and TK would have to be really emotionally obtuse not to realise the magnitude of Carlos feelings.

They were both idiots.

“Honestly, Carlos.” TK tsked, irritated. “You always knew and to do this...I’m sorry, but I’m gonna go.” TK reaches for his jacket, wallet and keys on the table and Carlos just watches him. “I will call Michelle and ask if she can check on you, I’m just not in the mood right now.”

Before Carlos can even put a word in, TK is pulling the door close with a loud thud that makes Carlos flinch a little. It would be a lie if he said that the fact that TK didn’t look at him even once doesn't sting.

------------------------------------------

The knock on his front door startles him. Carlos isn't waiting for any visitors and it was past ten o’clock and he frowns, thinking who could be at this hour. Looking through the peephole, Carlos leans his forehead on the door and sighs heavily.

A part of him wants to pretend he did not listen to the knock on his door, but his lights are on and TK probably saw that as he walked through the front yard, so TK would know he was being ignored. Which all things considered wouldn't be all bad.

But the other side of him wants to open the door and take whatever TK throws against him once more. Carlos knew there was never really a doubt on what he was going to do.

"Hey," TK greets him awkwardly. "I hope I’m not bothering you this late". TK bites his lips and Carlos can't help but trace the movement.

"I was just about head out to bed," Carlos replies, restrained. He really has no idea what TK is doing on his front door at this hour, after everything, but he could really use the distance. Plus he was too emotionally tired to have this conversation.

“I…” TK's voice comes out broken. He sighs, looks at the ground and bites his upper lip, uncertain. Carlos really can’t with this man right now.

“Listen,” TK stars over, this time his voice firm and he looks Carlos straight in his eyes. “I know you are upset. You have the right to be, but can I please come in and talk to you?” TK pleads. “I swear I will say what I have to say and after that I will keep my distance, okay?”

Carlos really wants to say no. He is too caught up in his emotions right now and he needs a break. Having TK this close would be the exact opposite of that, but if he learned something over the last two days — as if by magic, several memories were just there, like they never left him in the first place — it is that Carlos is weak for TK Strand.

It's a feeling that Carlos can’t explain, but TK means so much to him — TK means everything to him. He is under his skin and etched on his heart — and even if he isn’t in the mental state for this, he knows he will say ‘yes’ because Carlos is weak and greedy for TK. That is why Carlos makes TK tamales, even if there is no chance of reciprocity. He’s hopelessly in love and doomed to feel it fiercely.

“Sure,” Carlos answers and shrugs. “Come in.” He makes way for TK to come in and closes the door behind them. Carlos slowly makes his way towards the center of the living area, unsure if he should sit somewhere or if he should just stand his ground.

TK isn’t having a better time, Carlos notices, as he as well stands awkwardly in the middle of his living area, looking around him, a small container tucked in one of his hands.

“Carlos,” TK begins. “I know my response was a bit reluctant the other day.”

Carlos snorts at that.

“Okay, I freaked out and it was uncalled for.” Carlos did hate how TK could easily make him smile, even in a moment like this. “I shouldn’t have panicked like that, specially when you had just gotten out of the hospital and were still trying to figure things out, but I was taken back with everything.” TK has the decency to look contrite.

Carlos is proud of holding TK’s apologetic glance, but face blank, without uttering a word in reply, daring the other to keep going or leave if he couldn’t do this.

“I really should have been more rational, and known you didn’t remember my track record with relationships that day… and I—” TK’s voice falters and closes his eyes for a moment. “I messed up.” Carlos can see TK is twisting his foot on the ground and has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep the smile off his face at TK’s childish mannerism. “I just… like you a lot. And I’m so fucked up.” TK swallows the burning feeling on his throat. “I still have no idea what you see in me. Like you could have anyone, you are amazing, yet your eyes are always on me,” TK’s eyes fill with tears, but Carlos could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down several times before he got out the words. “And I feel so special and loved, but I also feel like running before you look too long and start seeing the cracks.” TK laughs bitterly, tears now flowing freely.

Carlos has to fight the urge of comforting TK. All he really wants is to wrap him in a hug and whisper sweet nothings into his ear, washing his insecurities away; but he stands his ground. If TK wants him, he will have to say the words. Carlos is done playing games.

“And when you do, it will all be over.” TK whispers, tugging his sleeves over his tearful cheeks. If the house hadn’t been in complete silence, Carlos fears he might not have listened. “These past two days, I couldn't stop thinking about you and what you told me.” He sniffs. “No one has ever made me feel as special as you, Carlos. You made those tamales for me even though I'm a trainwreck.” TK bites back a sob and Carlos digs his nails into the palms of his hands, hanging by the last thread of his willpower. Carlos is positive his face is twisted with pain. “And that’s all I ever wanted: to be loved and cherished, like you’ve done for me from day one.” TK's eyes are shining with tears but he locks them with Carlos' anguished ones. “Even If I tried not to, I couldn’t help but fall in love with you, Carlos.”

Carlos' heart was ringing on his ears. This was not the “It’s-not-you-it’s-me” speech he was expecting when he opened the door. TK just admitted to being in love with him and Carlos froze, overcome with joy and disbelief. He wanted to finally allow himself to reach for TK, but he was greedy when it came to TK Strand and now he wants it all.

TK walks closer to where Carlos is standing in small, tentative steps. “You told me that in your family when you find your special someone, you cook them tamales.” TK gives him a small smile as he closes the gap between them. “I made these for you.” TK says as he opens the lid of the container in his hands. Carlos peers down at the content of the box and almost chokes. He whips his head up, eyes meeting TK longing ones.

Tamales.

TK made him tamales.

"TK…" Carlos whispers, overwhelmed.

“I called your mother and asked her for the recipe.” Carlos' eyes widened at TK’s revelation. TK bites his bottom lip and breaks their stare. “I’m sorry,” Carlos can hear the anxiety in TK’s voice. “I know I crossed a line, I mea—”. Carlos interrupts TK, lunging in for a kiss, wrapping his free arm around TK’s neck. As soon as their lips connect TK moans and Carlos can't help but surge forward, in an effort to deepen their kiss and grind their hips closer.

He missed kissing TK. The taste of his lips is always enough to drive Carlos up through the walls. They broke their kiss so they could breathe, but Carlos quickly chased TK’s lips again, trying to nip TK’s swollen pink lips and TK couldn’t help but laugh at Carlos' antics.

Carlos' heart is bursting with joy. The sound of TK’s laugh echoes like sweet music to his ears. He couldn’t believe TK cooked him his family’s marriage tamales. God, TK faced his mami without his backup just so he could get the recipe. He isn’t the possessive type, but there was not a chance in hell Carlos is ever letting TK go now. He is keeping him.

TK eventually allows Carlos to nip his lips playfully, smiling at each other like fools in love. “Does that mean you like it?” TK asks, looking dazed and Carlos leans in and rubs their noses together in eskimo kisses. He knows TK will never admit that he loves when Carlos does that.

“I can’t believe you, TK.” Carlos' voice is in awe. “I can’t believe you called my mother.”

“You’re not upset?” TK asks against Carlos lips, still unconvinced.

Carlos rubs their noses gently one more before going for a quick peck. “No,” Carlos replies cheerily, a huge smile on his face. “But now you are stuck with me, buddy, because not only have you sealed the deal with the tamales, but Carlota Reyes will never let me live this down and you are going to suffer with me for the rest of your life since it’s all your fault.”

TK answers him with the most delicious peal of laughter and Carlos takes a step back to place the container over his coffee table. He reaches for TK, wrapping his arms around his waist and noising TK’s neck. Carlos grins when he hears TK’s groan.

“Your mother is really something,” TK tells him after a while and Carlos is glad that he can hear the fondness in his voice. “You know, she only gave me the recipe after I sent her a selfie and I quote: ‘I’m only doing this because I want my grandbabies to have green eyes”.

Carlos rolls his head back with laughter. That sounds exactly like his mami.

“Carlota Reyes is a sucker for green eyes. Better not disappoint her then, hun?” Carlos asks.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” TK answers, leaning in for a kiss before teasing, “Bet our kid will have her wrapped around their tiny little fingers, hun?” TK’s green eyes sparkle with mischief and Carlos can’t help but commiserate with his mami because he is already wrapped around TK Strand's fingers and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#911 lone star fic #911lonestarweek #911lsweek #tarlos fic #tarlos #carlos reyes #tk strand #my writing

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chaotictarlos · 1 year ago

Text

in sickness and in health

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

Rating: Explicit | Warnings / Tags: 4 x 16, 4 x 16 "A House Divided", Angst, Hurt / Comfort, M x M Smut, Anal fingering, Anal Sex, Carlos loves TK so much, there a lot of feelings in this one friends

Summary: All Carlos has ever wanted is to love TK and live a life by his side, now that's threatened by yet another thing that he can't control.

Author's Note: thank you to @kiloskywalker for being such a supportive friend. you've made this season so much fun and i adore our chats that we have. i made myself cry with this fic. i hope you all enjoy it. thank you to @meditating-honey-badger for beta'ing this for me.

My other season 4 fics

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Later that evening, Carlos lies awake and stares at the ceiling. TK is pillowed on his chest, drooling on his pecs with his arms firmly wrapped around Carlos’ waist, sound asleep. Carlos wishes he was also asleep but can’t get his mind to be quiet enough for him to drift off into dreamland and dream of their upcoming wedding.

Huntington’s Disease.

Of all the curveballs life could have thrown at them right before the wedding, this was not one Carlos could have ever predicted.

He holds back the big sigh that wants to escape his lips so that he doesn’t disturb TK. He feels pressure behind his eyes and his vision blurs with tears that he refuses to let fall. He’s not going to mourn their future before they even get there. There was still a large chance that Owen would be negative and then TK wouldn’t have to worry.

Still, Carlos is tired of the universe beating down their door every other day for some reason that might derail their wedding. Carlos isn’t sure what they did to have so much shit thrown their way but he was growing tired of it. Every new thing made him want to pack TK up and drive him far away to someplace safe and marry him without anyone knowing.

He just wants to be with TK - without the threat of him being taken from him around every corner.

In his arms, TK shifts, rolling over, and Carlos looks to see him snuggle into his own pillow - something TK rarely does. Carlos uses the opportunity to slip out of bed, tucking the bedsheets around TK, and out of their bedroom easily. He knows that he probably doesn’t have long before TK realizes that he’s not in bed anymore and comes to find him.

Carlos pads quietly over to where he’s left his iPad on the counter. He presses the home button and brings it to life, clicks on safari, and does the last thing he should be doing - googles Huntington’s Disease.

Carlos knows about it but not enough to feel confident knowledge. He grabs his iPad and moves to the dining room, pulls out a chair, and sits down. There he reviews article after article.. He looks at academic articles that show the most recent studies, reads about people who live with it, and even looks up cures and treatments.

None of it really helps him feel better; it just confirms that this is truly out of his control. There is absolutely nothing he can do to save TK from the disease. The only thing he can do is be there to support him, love him through all of the stages, and be the best husband he can ever be to TK with whatever time they have together.