#rescuinglives

[trustinginstincts]

what has gotten into you?

he’s all crashing lips, nipping teeth, and groping hands the moment they walk into their apartment, much too reminiscent of their first encounter together with the added influx of about three years worth of falling madly in love. perhaps it’s that certain addition which only makes him worse, now, all these intensely burning emotions fueling him far more than attraction alone had back then.

and, well, maybe - just maybe - this instance in particular has a little something to do with the torturous flirting tk had been subjected to at the grocery store, today. not that carlos wants to talk about it, because he really doesn’t want to talk about it, although as he pins tk against the wall adjacent to the sliding door, shopping bags laying forgotten on the floor, he supposes the resulting question from him is appropriately justified.

“me?” he hums, deeply and huskily, right into tk’s ear, hands hiking up the front of his shirt as he leaves another trail of kisses down along his neck. he truly has no intentions of stopping, a fire having been lit deep inside him, the possessive urge to claim screaming in his head and slowly consuming over his entire body, bit by bit. “oh, nothing at all. why do you ask…?”

[trustinginstincts]

just wanted to post the gifs i used for @rescuinglives and i's headers bc they are so 🥺😩😭💖

[fyrewalks]

“Out of all of that, that’s all you got?” // @rescuinglives

"Uh, yeah," Paul says, interested more in the assortment of snacks laid out on the coffee table than TK's story. It's obvious why TK and Carlos' condo has become their go-to spot for group hangs, even solo ones like this. Paul's going to have to step up his game if hosting duties fall to him again.

"What did you expect," he questions after popping a few pretzels in his mouth. "Santa riding a getaway motorcycle was the most interesting part of that story."

[fyrewalks]

❝ as I like to call it, the art of fuckery. ❞ // @rescuinglives

Paul looks up from where he's frowning down at the recipe book spread across his kitchen counter; he likes trying something new and he's glad TK's a willing taste tester, even if he might prefer a different subject. They work together, hang out together, and their conversations usually center around their work too, like now.

"Or as I call it, the art of stupidity," Paul tosses back, moving to double-check he has the right spices. "What? When a prank gets that out of hand, you're no longer fucking around for fun. You're either that stupid or deliberately cruel."

[trustinginstincts]

“If you catch this in your mouth I’ll give you a present.”

a brow immediately arches at the proposition, followed by the lopsided quirk of his lips. it’s been a slow day, carlos’ radio having been dead silent for the course of the last few hours of his shift, which was what had led him to station 126 in the first place. apparently, it's no different around here, and with tk’s ever-abundance of energy currently forced to stay cooped up until the next call finally came around, apparently they’ve resorted to this.

not that carlos is complaining, of course. any time spent with his fiancé is time very well spent in his opinion, although he can’t help but to be amused, all the same.

“a present, huh?” carlos grins, thumbs hooked into his duty belt as he reclines back against the wall adjacent to where tk has been snacking on gummy bears. he's suddenly feeling particularly playful, and he's sure the certain itch for excitement has everything to do with it. that, along with the fact that being in tk's company always seems to have a way of lifting his spirits. "well, that depends. would this present be worth my while?"

there's a pause, then, as carlos pushes himself off of the wall in order to loom closer towards tk, voice dropping and grin turning rather wicked. "does it perhaps have anything to do with your mouth?"

[fyrewalks]

are you sure this is a good idea? // @rescuinglives

"Disobeying direct orders from both our captains," Paul shakes his head. It's not just dumb, it's dangerous. They'd been ordered to stand down while they waited for the hectic scene to be secured. Bar fights were nasty and, often, all-consuming. This was no different - as far as they could guess, it started with one bad swing before the entire bar was off like a nasty fire, trapping innocent patrons in the bathroom and staff behind the counter.

"The way I see it, we've got a better chance of getting in through the side exit," he says, adjusting the pack on his shoulder. The bar might be dingy, but they at least kept up with safety codes. "Better than sitting on heels."

[trustinginstincts]

trust me, you don't want to.

for all that carlos has done to try and make tk see, it would seem as if he still doesn’t get it. not that carlos could ever blame him, with all the hardships he’s been through and the insecurities he knows he struggles with, but a small part of him still wants to reach out and grab ahold of tk’s shoulders to give him a good, proper shake, to scream and shout until he’s blue in the face. anything to get him to finally understand that he’s in this for the long haul, for all of it.

but, he doesn’t do any of that. instead, carlos' reaction is about the exact opposite in intensity, taking off his reading glasses and setting them upon the coffee table before he’s reaching out to take ahold of tk’s hands. his touch is firm with sureness, yet soft with affection, and carlos offers him a little squeeze as he speaks in a similarly-toned voice.

“tk. listen to me. okay? i do want to. i want to know everything about you, the good and the bad, and everything else in between. because it’s all a part of who you are.” he breaks off for a moment with a deep intake of breath, thumbs gently smoothing over the backs of tk’s knuckles. always so touch-oriented with his comfort, as natural to him as the beating of his heart, most especially for the man sitting in front of him.

“and i wish those terrible things hadn’t happened to you. it kills me that they have, and- i know i haven’t been there, myself, but… the least i can do is be here for you, now. and i really do want that, tk, more than anything. i’m always going to be here for you, i’m not going to tuck tail and run the opposite direction for anything. i’m not only here for the good stuff. do you understand?”

[trustinginstincts]

i like taking care of you .  i’d be happy to do it for the rest of our lives .

although the injury is far from anything substantial, there aren’t exactly many negatives that come with being married to a paramedic. a slight mishap while preparing dinner had introduced carlos’ index finger to a chef’s knife in a very unkind way, and while he, of course, had insisted that he could tend to the mishap himself, tk, of course, hadn’t taken no for an answer.

which is what brings them to their bathroom at six o’clock on a tuesday, carlos leaned back against the sink with their first aid kit held in his good hand, which tk periodically pulls supplies from as he treats the minor wound. his husband's touch is practiced, methodical, yet those professional hands hold an underlying softness to them as they move, a certain sense of affection even within this mundane task that he performs frequently in the field. it's beyond carlos how even a situation like this can captivate him so completely and effortlessly when it comes to tk.

so, it's only natural that carlos remains unable to take his eyes away from tk's face as he concentrates, leading to a quietly murmured, sincere ‘thank you, you didn’t have to do this’ under his breath that yields an unexpectedly emotional response, although he really shouldn’t be surprised.

“yeah? is that so?” he smiles, warm and sweet, head tilting as his eyes continue to roam over his husband's every beautifully-defined feature. “that’s not you saying that you expect this kind of thing on the regular, is it? because i hate to break it to you, babe, as adorable as you’re being right now, i definitely don’t plan on slicing my finger open again any time soon.”