but i'm here and i'm yours (till last candle melts)
[2,229 words]
[teen and up audiences]
[beta’ed by @meloingly]
[title from find somebody else by secondhand serenade]
[tk notices that carlos is acting weird on a friday]
[carlos reyes, tk strand]
[mentions of drug addiction, mentions of opioid pandemic, mentions of drug dealing, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, crying, communication]
[written for @immortalstrand. happy birthday, my dear! i wish you a very happy, very lovely day! i am thankful everyday for having you in my life. love you lots!]
“you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” tk begins, approaching this topic under a different light, given how things went before in the kitchen. “just know i’m here, i’m not going anywhere, and i love you.”
“But do you really?” carlos whimpers, voice broken by the tears.
tk notices that carlos is acting weird on a friday
but i'm here and i'm yours (till last candle melts) | on ao3
It doesn’t start on a Friday, but that’s the day TK notices that something’s amiss with Carlos. He wants to kick himself in the shins for taking so long — he’s usually more observant than this — but he’s going to blame his insane schedule these past weeks. They have barely seen each other for a fortnight, only occasionally sharing their bed for a few hours because they’ve been working opposite shifts.
TK’s missed his boyfriend, but he thought that text messages, some FaceTiming while on shift, and cuddling whenever they were in bed at the same time — too exhausted to do anything but sleep — he thought those were enough. They clearly weren’t, or they were successful in hiding how Carlos has been really feeling, TK can’t be sure. All he knows is that it’s Friday, their first day off together in fifteen days and seven hours — not that he’s counting or anything — and Carlos is stress cooking in the kitchen.
And despite how much TK loves his boyfriend’s cooking, he knows something’s wrong just in the way Carlos’ shoulders are slumped forward while he whisks the eggs, in the way he’s shifting his weight from one leg to the other, and in the telling way he’s pointedly not listening to Morat as he moves around the kitchen. If anything else hadn’t clued TK in, that particular fact would have rung all the alarm bells in his head.
Carlos Reyes always listens to Morat while cooking. That’s a fact, just as the sun rises from the East, just as how much TK loves him. So something’s wrong — something’s really wrong.
“Babe,” he begins, sitting on one of the stools, staring at his boyfriend’s back as he works. Carlos doesn’t seem to hear him, too focused on beating the living lights out of the egg yolks. “Carlos,” he tries a bit louder, and this time it’s apparently too much because his boyfriend startles and jumps a bit in the air, the bowl with the eggs sliding off his hands and falling onto the kitchen counter with a loud thud.
“TK! I hadn’t heard you,” Carlos admonishes, turning briefly to flash him a tight smile before cleaning up the egg mess. Luckily, the bowl seems intact, but the egg yolks have spilt over the edge. “How long have you been spying there?”
“I’m not spying,” TK corrects him petulantly. “I’m checking out my very hot, very skilled boyfriend who also happens to be very distracted about something that’s not me.”
Carlos stills his movements halfway to picking up some paper towels to wipe the egg yolks off the counter. “Why would you say that?” he asks, not turning around again. He busies himself with cleaning up the counter before continuing, “I’m not distracted.”
“Worried, then,” TK amends. He’s starting to feel bummed by the fact that Carlos won’t even face him during their conversation, as though communication isn’t as important right now to him as it’s always been. That’s how TK can tell something is really wrong.
Carlos Reyes has never shied away from him, not even when it was difficult — not even that one time when they both thought they were broken up because they hadn’t come clean about their feelings regarding running into Carlos’ parents at the farmers’ market.
“I’m not worried.”
He sounds strained at best to TK’s ears. He sighs, bracing himself against the counter before speaking once again. “You and I both know that’s not true. Talk to me, Carlos. I’m here for you.”
Carlos stiffens, as though those words have slapped him hard. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, straightening his back and dropping the paper towels into the dustbin by the sink. “This is ruined. I’ll go make a quick run to the store.” He’s moving fast, reaching the door before TK can even react.
“Wait, Carlos!” TK exclaims, sliding off the stool and rushing towards his boyfriend. He’s thankful for their no-shoes-in-the-house rule, because Carlos is fumbling with his sneakers and it gives TK time to try and stop him from leaving. “We can order something, it’s no biggie. Really.”
“I just—I’m not hungry anymore,” Carlos mumbles. He toes off his shoes and attempts to move, but TK reaches out and grabs his arm, effectively preventing him from leaving.
“Woah, wait,” TK says in an exasperated voice. “A second ago you were cooking what smelled like delicious dinner and then you were going to the store to buy more food, and now you’re not hungry? That doesn’t make sense, Carlos.”
“I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense!” Carlos explodes, snapping at TK. He looks up from the floor, and TK can see the hurt in those brown irises he loves so much. “Life doesn’t make sense, okay? Why would I?” He shrugs off TK’s grip on him and runs upstairs, barefoot and shaking.
TK remains right beside the door, his hand stretched out awkwardly, staring at the void where Carlos has disappeared to, not really understanding what has just happened in front of him. It takes him another couple of minutes to react, and when he does, he moves as fast as he can, berating himself for being so unresponsive when there’s obviously something bothering Carlos so much.
He climbs the stairs two at a time, his footsteps resounding on the floor as he pounces against it in his haste to reach Carlos. He first checks the bathroom, because it’s the first door he encounters, but his boyfriend isn’t there. He hears soft noises coming from behind the closed door of their bedroom; he scolds himself for not realizing sooner that Carlos must have gone straight to their sanctuary — to his safe haven. TK wonders, not for the first time, if this is Carlos’ reaction to actually having him living in the condo, if he’s already regretting letting TK into his world. He knows he can be too much — he knows he can be overwhelming, he’s been told as much so many times before that it has to be true — but this is the first time that TK is really freaking out about what possible outcome he could get out of whatever conversation they’re about to have, when he opens the closed door to the bedroom.
He knocks on the door, not waiting for a reply before opening it slightly and peeking his head inside. “Carlos?” he calls out, softly, barely above a whisper.
He sees Carlos lying on his side on the bed, his back to the door, his shoulders shaking. TK doesn’t even think, he just moves before his mind can even fully register what he’s looking at. Carlos needs comforting, and TK moves on instinct. He doesn’t think there is a universe where he won’t be rushing towards Carlos whenever his boyfriend is hurt.
“Carlos,” he says once again, the name rolling reverently off his tongue as he reaches the bed and sits down on top of the comforter. The mattress dips a bit under his weight, causing a ripple to rift throughout the place. “I’m here, babe.”
Carlos doesn’t turn — it’s becoming a pattern, TK notices, something he doesn’t like at all — but TK can hear the muffled sobs that are escaping his throat. He leans over and engulfs Carlos’ lying figure in his arms. Carlos doesn’t resist, instead leaning back into TK’s warmth and allowing him to hold him tight. TK lets out a relieved sigh; at least, even when they’re fighting, Carlos wants him around.
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” TK begins, approaching this topic under a different light, given how things went before in the kitchen. “Just know I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and I love you.”
“But do you really?” Carlos whimpers, voice broken by the tears. The words send a shiver up TK’s spine — and this is it, he thinks, this is where Carlos confesses it’s too much — but Carlos quickly amends, sniffling, “I didn’t mean—it came out wrong. I just—”
“Use your words, then,” TK gently commands. “Take all the time you need, Carlos. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I just—This is—” Carlos stammers. He takes a deep breath, relishing in TK’s warmth around him. “You can’t promise that you’re not going anywhere because you don’t know that. And if I can’t trust your word on that, because how could I, it’s an impossible promise to make, then if I can’t trust you on that how can I trust on the rest?”
“I love you,” TK reassures him, holding Carlos tighter against his chest. “And I can’t promise that I’m never going to leave you, but I swear I’ll always try my best to come back to you. Is this what this is all about?”
“I’ve had—I’ve had a rough few shifts,” Carlos confesses. This time, he turns in TK’s arms until his back is no longer pressed against TK’s chest, instead burying his face in TK’s shoulder. “There’s this—this opioid pandemic we’re fighting off,” he tries to explain.
“Have you caught some of the drug dealers?” TK asks gently. He knows Carlos has been working in a joint effort with the Texas Rangers to eradicate as many opioids off the streets as they can, but it’s proved to be a difficult task. TK would know — he’s been on the other side.
"Yes," Carlos mumbles against TKʼs shirt. He feels a wetness spreading on his chest, and realizes with a start that Carlos has been silently crying into him.
"That’s good, isn't it? They're off the streets. You did a great job, Carlos." TK knows that he isn't doing a good job right now — he doesn't know how to comfort his boyfriend when he’s obviously inconsolable.
"That guy," Carlos shudders as he speaks. He lifts his hands and clutches TK’s t-shirt helplessly. "When I got to arrest him, he was—he was selling Oxy to this kid. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. Ty, I was—I couldn't—"
It hits TK with the force of a freight train, the reality of what Carlos is trying to say running over him like a truck. "You were reminded of me," he whispers. He knows better than to give in to his first instinct and accused Carlos of not trusting him — because this isn't about Carlos thinking that TK will go back to the streets in a quest to get high. A few years ago, TK would have thrown a fit; tonight, he simply holds Carlos closer in an attempt to show him what he can't put into words.
I love you, he wants to say, but it feels trite. I will never go back there, and he knows it's a promise he wants to keep but he can never be sure of it. He’s an addict, he will forever feel that itch.
"He reminded me that I almost didn't have you," Carlos sniffles. "I know it's silly, because it happened before we met, but it got me thinking. What if," he turns his head away so his face isn't buried in TK’s chest. TK misses the warmth almost instantly. "What if your father hadn’t reached you in time? I would have never—you wouldn’t even be here, I wouldn't have had you, and I know it's selfish but—"
"It isn't selfish, babe," TK reassures him. "It's normal, with the jobs we have. It's normal to be scared. To see all that could have been. We've seen so much, Carlos, we've been through a lot. I'm sorry you thought you couldn't tell me about it."
"It’s stupid. I know it," Carlos insists. "You're here, and we should celebrate that. Instead, I'm crying over something that thankfully never even happened." He burrows himself more into TKʼs body, as though he wants to fuse himself into TK.
TK sighs into Carlos' head, dropping a kiss on his head as he cuddles with his boyfriend. He isn't sure there are words to express how much he feels about Carlos — how much he wishes those intrusive thoughts didn't attack him as well. TK is used to them by now, to the weight of the fear of messing up. He doesn’t want Carlos to ever go there — to make up scenarios where things aren't how they are now.
"I love you," he repeats. "I know that I have the worst past possible, and that it's scary. I also know that you trust me. But living in the past can break you, Carlos. I would know all about it," he chuckles humorlessly. "I'm here now. We're together. That's all that matters, and that's what I plan on reminding you for as long as you let me ."
"What if it's forever?" Carlos asks in a low voice, the tremors reverberating through TK.
"Then forever it will be," TK promises. "I was already planning on it."
"Promise?"
Carlos sounds so small when he speaks that TKʼs heart hurts, almost breaking in half. "Are you asking me if I promise you forever?"
Carlos remains silent, so TK continues. "I'll gladly promise you my whole eternity, Carlos, as long as I get to spend it with you."
There's a hum coming from his boyfriend, a muttered "I love you" that sounds broken and shaky, and then there's silence that lulls them both to sleep, emotionally exhausted and physically drained, dinner long forgotten.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter Title: Music
Pairing: fem!Shance
Rating/Warning: T, mentions of an affair (though unknown by one of the parties involved.)
Chapter Summary:
Shiro watched the woman one the stage.
All with a soft smile on her face.
She watched the woman swayed and shifted so easily with the beat of the music the band was playing. Moving so simply and easily in the beautiful blue sequin dress, it was magical. Make-up and hair done so perfectly, it seemed barely there, save the bold red lip. The woman’s beauty was only overshadowed by her voice that mingled and danced with the music just as naturally as her body.
It was like she was born for the stage.
Shiro couldn’t help but be captivated by her.
Only…
The woman on the stage was Lana, Shiro’s husband’s mistress.
AN: I wrote some fem!Shance, because everyone has been talking about it on twitter, and this theme made me thing of Why Women Kill. So I did a Why Women Kill Fem!Shance AU, based on Beth Ann and April. Mostly because of this
