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This is not how Carlos thought he would end his residency.

An undergraduate degree in biochemistry followed by medical school all at UT Austin, then a four-year residency in emergency medicine at St. David’s was the plan. He mapped it out, grew up planning out his future while boys his age were worried about winning the football game on Friday and his family was out in the pasture wondering if he’d ever put his books down to join them. It was Carlos’ dream and he worked his ass off day and night to make sure he’d get it—countless hours studying, working in research at the university and nursing facilities as an aide to get his clinical experience, pouring over countless forums to make sure he knew the best ways to study for the MCAT. And he did get it, accepted to med school during his first application cycle and matching with his top hospital for residency. He followed the plan to a T.

Almost.

He completed ten of those twelve planned years before he veered off course. Now, as Carlos walks down the crowded New York sidewalk before the sun is fully up, he feels like a fish out of water. He hopes—no, he knows that feeling will subside when he’s in Mount Sinai’s halls, working with patients and saving lives—but right now he’s just a Texan boy that’s only been in New York for a week.

He hasn’t learned to stop politely smiling at people on the subway. He hasn’t gotten over the silverfish that come up his shower drain. He hasn’t figured out the maze of streets, except for the walk from his apartment to the hospital, which he rehearsed more than once to make this morning as flawless as possible. Being a new person at work is nerve-wracking enough, and Carlos has been the new person plenty. The undergraduate shadowing the doctor and trying not to get in the way. The medical student being put to the test when he felt like he still knew nothing. A first-year resident who felt he was in way over his head. But now, as a third-year resident entering a new hospital, Carlos finds himself with a whole new set of worries.

It’s not impossible to switch residency programs, Carlos and plenty others are proof of that, but it often leaves people wondering why. He has no ties to New York and he’s not switching specialties. It won’t take long for people to figure that out. It won’t take long for people to assume that he fled Texas for personal reasons, and for them to wonder about what those are.

Carlos just wants to focus on medicine. He’s never been one to fall into the emergency department gossip. He’s there for his patients, to do his best work without distraction and to become a better doctor every day. That won’t change here, even if he likely will be gossiped about in the halls.

He doesn’t know where the staff entrance is yet, so he enters through the sliding doors underneath the vibrant ‘Emergency’ sign. He’s immediately greeted with familiar sights, sounds, and smells. A bright overcrowded room with coughing from at least five different locations, a teenager with a bloody gauze pressed to his arm sitting next to an elderly man with an oxygen max.

He gives polite smiles and ‘excuse me’s as he makes his way to the front desk, trying not to make too much eye contact so he doesn’t set down his travel coffee mug and start helping people right here.

“Excuse me,” he says to the young man behind the counter when he finally gets there. “I’m Carlos Reyes. I’m starting here today.”

A smile that looks like it’s one of relief greets him and the man nods. “Welcome, Carlos. I’ll grab Dr. Vega.”

The man rolls back from the counter and it’s then that Carlos spots his wheelchair. He shifts awkwardly on his feet, sliding the strap of his satchel higher up his shoulder as he waits. He takes a couple gulps of his coffee, knowing if he doesn’t drink it now he probably never will, and then the man from before returns with Dr. Vega.

Carlos remembers her from his interview. She’s the senior attending physician of the emergency room, but Carlos doesn’t have to work here to know that. She’s renowned in the field, published dozens of studies with a list of accomplishments that Carlos could only dream of one day, and now she’s Carlos’ boss.

“Dr. Reyes.” She smiles warmly at him. “We’re glad to have you. Welcome.”

“I’m glad to be here,” Carlos assures. “This is an amazing opportunity.”

She waves off his praise. “Oh, please. We’re more than happy to have another set of hands.” She nods at the door she came from and begins walking. “You can follow me.”

As they buzz through the locked door, they enter a hall filled with patients' rooms. The entire department is one giant rectangle with a few offshoots, and the nurse’s station stands in the middle. People are bustling about, transporting patients, wheeling machines, or in deep conversation. Carlos feels at home already.

“I apologize in advance, but other than getting you a badge to have clearance, you won’t have much of an orientation today. We’re going to hit the ground running.”

Carlos figured as much. There’s no real downtime in this setting. Good thing he already got a brief tour during the new hire orientation and he watched all of the training videos online yesterday. The real stuff—the hard stuff—he already knows. He just has to prove that he does.

“I’d expect nothing more,” he jokes, and Tommy gives him an understanding smile.

“You’re just in time for rounds. We do a quick debrief with the night shift. We’ll introduce you to everybody then.”

Carlos quickens his pace as she does, leading them to a corner near the nurse’s station where a dozen or so people gather around. There are a few in black scrubs like him, some in gray, and a few in navy.

“Thank you, Dr. Vega.”

“Call me Tommy. We’re colleagues now.”

Colleagues with Dr. Tommy Vega. Maybe Carlos should’ve imagined a different plan for himself from the get go because right now, he feels bigger than Texas.

“We good to start?” a man asks the group as Tommy and Carlos join them.

“Go ahead, Paul,” Tommy says.

“Alright. First things first, we’ve got a new face around here. Everybody, this is Dr. Reyes, a third-year resident from UT. Dr. Reyes, this is everyone. I’m Paul, year four resident.”

“Marjan,” a woman in a black hijab and gold hoops goes next. “Second-year resident.”

“Grace,” says a woman in gray scrubs. “Charge nurse.”

“And life saver,” the woman next to her chimes in. “I’m Nancy. RN.”

“Mateo. RN.”

Carlos’ eyes bounce around the group, trying to match all the faces to the names and remember their positions on top of it. Good thing they wear name tags.

“TK.” Carlos’ gaze moves to the next person, and then he gets stuck. The man in the navy scrubs has bright, vibrant eyes for 6:45 in the morning, but it’s his friendly smile that makes Carlos a little weak in the knees. “I’m an EMT.”

Carlos gives him a small smile. He could stare at this man for hours. He’s like a painting in a museum that people would flock to from around the globe. Except Carlos’ sexuality is part of the reason he ended up out of his home state for the first time in his life. He shouldn’t be thinking about that. Definitely not five minutes into his first shift where he still has so much of himself to prove to these people. He shouldn’t even entertain the idea of anyone here being handsome because it’s nothing but a bad idea. Even fantasies can be dangerous.

He looks away from TK to address the group. “Nice to meet you all. I’m very happy to be here.”

A laugh bubbles out of Paul. “Tell me if you’re still feeling that way at the end of the day.”

The rest of the group laughs and Carlos finds it easy to smile along with them. There’s camaraderie here. He can tell already. He likes that.

“Obviously there are more of us, but you’ll meet ‘em as you go,” Grace adds.

“I’m sensing a theme.”

“Quick learner,” Marjan quips.

“You’ll fit right in,” TK adds with a laugh, and Carlos’ eyes jump to him. He gets stuck there again until TK’s gaze meets his and he’s forced to look away.

Tommy gets them started on the actual business of the meeting, giving reports on the new admits and those that are still waiting for a bed upstairs. Except they’re all new to Carlos and he quickly takes his small notepad out of his pocket, scribbling down the highlights until he can chart review later.

“Let’s make it a good day people,” Tommy ends, and then they all scatter.

Carlos doesn’t. Mainly because he doesn’t know where to go.

“Dr. Reyes,” Grace calls to him. He silently thanks her for giving him direction. “I’ve got your badge.”

She grabs it from the desk behind her and passes it over. As Carlos clips it to his neckline, Grace starts explaining where he has clearance to.

“If you find you’re locked out of somewhere you need entrance to, talk to Judd.” Grace nods off to the corner, where a man in a security vest is coming through the doors from the waiting room. “Tall guy that’s always lingering around here.”

He nods at her. “Thanks, Grace.”

“You’re very welcome, Dr. Reyes.”

“You can just call me Carlos.”

She laughs. “I think most of us around here have a habit that’ll make that hard to do.”

“Hey, Dr. Reyes.” Carlos pulls his attention away from Grace to TK, who’s now leaning against the counter next to him. “If you’ve got a free minute, I’m on my way to the lounge. I could show you where it is. You know, for all the free time you’re going to have.”

A small laugh bubbles out of Carlos.

“Go with him and then I’ll give you your assignments,” Paul—Dr. Strickland, according to his nametag—tells him.

Carlos turns back to TK. “That’d be great, thanks.”

He opts not to stare at TK as he follows him through the unit, instead glancing around to get reoriented to the land. His brief tour didn’t help much when he’s trying to remember the locations of all the rooms. He has a feeling he’s going to be awkwardly stopping and turning around many times today.

When they get to a corner of the ER by a staff bathroom and a set of double doors that Carlos presumes leads to the rest of the hospital, TK stops at one of the closed doors and buzzes them in with his badge.

“This is the break room,” TK tells him, holding the door open to let Carlos pass through. “If you’re ever in here long enough for it to be considered a break.”

Carlos smiles at him and takes in the space. It’s pretty generic. A few tables, a row of cabinets with a microwave and coffee station. A fridge and a couch. Standard break room stuff and now that Carlos knows the location, there’s no real reason he needs to stay in here. But he doesn’t want to just walk out either, not when TK is crossing the room to get coffee. Carlos decides he’ll wait for him before getting back on the floor to start his day.

“So, how long have you been an EMT?”

TK grabs a paper cup from the cupboard and then glances over his shoulder. “Almost ten years.”

Carlos’ brows shoot up before he can hide his surprise. Ten years ago, Carlos was stressed about organic chemistry and his application to med school, and TK was already out here making a living. Carlos can’t imagine what he’s seen and the kind of experience he has. He’d love to pick TK’s brain sometime. “Oh, wow. That’s a long time.”

TK fixes him with a look that’s stern, but teasing; one that Carlos couldn’t imagine making in front of someone he met fifteen minutes ago. TK seems unapologetically himself though, and Carlos is immediately drawn to it, like he’s finding the missing pieces of his own personality to learn from others. “Don’t say that. It makes me feel old,” TK tells him.

“Experienced, more like it,” Carlos corrects, and TK ducks his head and smiles.

“Well, if you ever need help finding where something is, let me know. I know there’s not a lot of time to breathe here, and I know where all the good storage rooms are if you’re looking for the good gowns.”

Carlos chuckles and shoves his hands into the pockets of his scrub pants. “I’ll keep you in mind.”

TK pops a lid on his cup when he’s done pouring and then returns to Carlos’ side. Together, they make their way back out into the chaos. “I look forward to working with you, Dr. Reyes. Everyone’s really excited to have you,” TK says as they’re about to part ways.

Carlos is already getting tired of having to say ‘call me Carlos’, so he gives up for the morning.

“I’m excited to be here. And you too, TK.”

TK gives him one more smile before he’s off, and Carlos has to remember how to breathe again.

“Dr. Reyes,” Paul calls out. “You’re going to be with me this morning until you get a lay of the land. C’mon. We’ve got an 82-year-old male complaining of chest pains in room three.”

Instantly, Carlos is snapped out of the mode where he feels sixteen with a crush on a boy, and is thrown into work mode. He’s already thinking about increased troponin levels and ST elevations.

“What’s his EKG saying?”

“Let’s find out,” Dr. Strickland says as he slides the door open. “You can do the workup.”

And just like that, Carlos is thrown into the fire.

***

Nearly sixteen hours after Carlos leaves his apartment, he returns. His ears ring as he shuts the door behind him, not used to the silence that greets him after a day of screaming and orders and relentless beeping.

Carlos hasn’t become attached to his one-bedroom apartment yet, there’s no sentimental reason to love these four walls that he’s lived in for less than a week, but this is the first time he’s glad to be here. He loves his job, but the few weeks he had off made him lose his routine, making today feel excruciatingly long. Combined with the extra responsibilities that a third-year resident has, like mentoring younger ones, Carlos is exhausted.

After dropping his keys in the ceramic bowl on his small entryway table, Carlos drops his bag to the floor. He locates his phone at the bottom of his bag, checking it for the first time since he left the house. There are a few notifications, but nothing substantial, like he wasn’t even unreachable for a full day. It’s just that no one is trying to reach him.

He didn’t expect to have a full conversation with his mom tonight, he hasn't done that since the day he got to the city and made it to his apartment, but it feels weird to finish his first day at a new job and not have anyone to talk to about it. He thought maybe he’d have a good luck text from her, like he did when he started college and med school and residency, but nope. Nothing.

Carlos tries not to feel stung by it as he crosses the living room to the cramped bathroom at the back of his apartment. His first order of business when he gets home from the hospital is always to shower, and today, the size of the small cubicle doesn’t even have him yearning for his spacious shower he had back in Texas. It has hot water and soap and that’s more than enough for Carlos right now.

He makes his way to his equally cramped kitchen when he’s done, stopping to shut the blinds in his living room on the way. He’s grateful for the curtains he finally installed yesterday that prevent people on the sidewalk below from getting full glimpses of his life inside. He’s glad he meal prepped yesterday, even though cooking would give him something relaxing to do tonight. He’s too worn out though, so he throws his container in the microwave and then carries it to the couch, putting on a home renovation show to drown out his thoughts.

His day was good. The people he works with all seem nice and welcoming and it felt good to get back out there again. All in all, this is the first time he doesn’t feel like he made a mistake—an overreaction—by coming here.

Truthfully, today felt like the first time he could breathe in months.

***

TK has met a lot of doctors.

He has met arrogant assholes and those who give up their free time volunteering at free clinics. He has met those who refuse to retire and those on their first day in a hospital with an MD after their name. He has met those who are helpful and respectful to their staff and those who act like they are a level above.

TK has been working in this emergency room for nine years. Long gone are his days as a fresh emergency room tech where speaking to the physician or even a nurse made him fearful. He’s not new, and though he may not have a fancy degree from Harvard or Stanford, he has experience. He knows this department like the back of his hand, having been here for remodels, staff changes, and one pandemic. Needless to say, he doesn’t get tongue-tied or nervous around doctors anymore.

That is, until he meets Dr. Reyes.

TK knew he was coming of course, they all did. Reminders that they’d have a new resident starting here—and not a first year—have been sent out in emails for weeks. And in rounds every morning for the last couple of days, Grace or Tommy would remind them that they have a new physician starting soon. That day has come and though they’d been briefed a little on his background—degree from UT Austin and two years of residency in the same city—it’s hard to really know anything about him until he walks through the doors.

The moment TK laid eyes on him, he thought he was a patient. A model, maybe. Underwear model for Calvin Klein. But he was wearing black scrubs so that didn’t quite make sense. An actor then. Someone up and coming playing a sexy unrealistic doctor on TV and he’s here for an immersive experience.

Of course all of those thoughts were absolutely ridiculous, but it was all TK’s gobsmacked brain could come up with when laying eyes on the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen because there’s no way this is the guy that TK is going to work with every day. As he learned a few moments after that, watching him join their huddle, Dr. Reyes is an undeniably handsome man, and this undeniably handsome man is a real doctor. Even now, the novelty hasn’t worn off. As TK continues to work with him, it’s gotten worse, in fact. He has glasses he wears when charting and silly voices he uses to work with kids and big brown eyes that fill with empathy as he takes the time to listen to patients’ stories.

There has to be something wrong with him.

“Like what?”

TK startles, not having realized he said that out loud. He peels his eyes away from where he was undoubtedly staring at Carlos who’s conducting an exam in room three. TK will just chalk it up to observing the patient.

He glances at Nancy and hums, pretending to think. “Hates puppies? Mouth breather? Serial killer?”

She purses her lips and tilts her head, looking at Carlos. “He would have the knowledge to like… harvest organs or—”

“Woah, way to get grotesque with it,” TK grumbles and she rolls her eyes.

“I know you have seen worse.”

“Yeah, but that’s to help people, not kill them.”

“Who’s killing who?” Mateo asks as he pumps the hand sanitizer on the counter and then drops to a rolling chair. His momentum sends him back enough to nearly bump into Paul, who flicks his head as he walks by.

“No one, hopefully,” Paul jumps in, derailing this conversation further.

“Not under my watch,” Nancy boasts overenthusiastically. They all know it’s not that simple and the odds of losing a patient before the end of the shift are greater than not.

“Well, I don’t know about saving lives right this minute, but room twelve is asking for a bedpan,” Tommy mentions as she sits down at an empty computer.

Mateo groans. “Ugh, dude. Again?” he grumbles as he stands up and practically drags his feet across the room to the man in question.

Nancy chuckles at his suffering and TK’s eyes drift back to Carlos. The elderly woman is now holding one of his hands in two of hers and saying something intently to him. Carlos listens with rapt attention when others might be trying to plan their exit to move on.

Nancy must see the same thing he does because she groans. “Seriously. Something has to be wrong with him.” TK hums in acknowledgment and then she asks, “Why do you think he moved here?”

TK shrugs. He can’t say he hasn’t thought about it himself, but wondering and gossiping feel like two different things. “Maybe it just wasn’t a good match.”

Nancy thinks it over. “Yeah, but why move halfway across the country?”

TK huffs a laugh as he twirls his pen between his fingers. “Well, Nance. This is a good hospital. Reputation is everything.” TK spots Mateo out of the corner of his eye coming out of room twelve just before he sees Carlos coming closer. “Hey, speaking of reputations. I heard a little something about you and a certain nurse getting here at the same time every day. Isn’t that—”

“Bed five’s call light is on,” she blurts out as she stands, rushing away.

TK grins as he spins his chair around to face the computer again, making eye contact with Carlos as he approaches the counter. He gives TK a funny look judging by what he just witnessed, but TK waves him off.

“You busy?” Carlos asks him.

TK fights to hold back his grin. So many doctors TK has worked with in the past basically demand he drop everything to assist them. “I’m all yours. What do you need?”

“I need a lumbar puncture on bed seven. Can you get her set up and I’ll be back in a minute?”

“Sure thing.”

TK is hasty as he grabs the needed supplies from storage and makes his way to the room. He gives a courtesy knock before entering. “Hi,” he greets, glancing at her whiteboard. “My name’s TK. I’m going to get a few things set up for you, okay Ruth?”

Ruth has wrinkles and sunspots, but her gray hair is styled and she has dangly earrings in and pink linen pants under her gown. She clearly wasn’t expecting to come here today and now that she has, her hands clench together nervously in her lap. “Sure,” she tells him. After a moment, as TK sets the supplies down on a table and starts laying them, she asks, “Is Dr. Reyes coming back?”

“He sure is.”

She looks relieved, and TK doesn’t take offense to that. He’s holding a very large needle that he has no jurisdiction to insert anywhere. He’d feel calm with Carlos too.

“He sure is handsome,” she adds.

TK laughs in amusement and reminds himself not to agree out loud. “Did he explain to you what’s going to happen?”

She looks uneasy, eyes shifting back over to the table. “You’re going to suck out my spine fluid.”

“Not all of it,” TK reminds her. “Just for a sample. But to get at it, I’m going to need you to sit on the edge of the bed for me.”

Ruth grows wary again. “I don’t know if I can hold myself up that long.”

TK smiles in understanding. “I’m going to grab another tray and a pillow that you can rest your arms on. How does that sound?”

Some of her uneasiness starts to settle. “Okay.”

“Be right back,” TK tells her.

He quickly hunts down a tray from a miraculously empty room and gives it a wipe down just in case before returning to bed seven. Together, the two of them get her to the edge of the bed and then Carlos reappears in the doorway.

“Knock, knock,” he greets.

“I’m just heading out,” TK tells him and suddenly Ruth grabs his wrist.

“You’re not going to help me sit here?” There’s panic in her eyes and TK slowly looks over to Carlos. Their eyes meet, and just from a single look, TK feels like he’s been given the go-ahead to stay.

“I’ll be right here,” he assures as he drags a folding chair over with his foot and sits down in a good position to keep Ruth steady.

Then it’s Carlos’ turn to take over, and TK is a little mesmerized. They’ve worked in tandem, been in the same room while the other is doing their thing, and TK has seen Carlos giving compressions or intubating someone from across the ER, but he’s never been given the opportunity to simply observe.

He puts the sterile gloves on with a precision that seems well-perfected, talking calmly to Ruth about what to expect. He instructs her to hunch her back as he swabs the skin and gives step-by-step instructions of what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. TK thinks he could probably undergo just about any procedure in the world if he had Carlos there to talk him through it. He’s so carefully concentrated even as a curl falls onto his forehead, not losing focus for even a split second.

The image seems like it describes Dr. Reyes well. He’s kind and helpful and nice to everyone he works with, far from cold or distant, but he doesn’t joke around with the rest of them as much. It’s not incriminating evidence, he is still new after all, but TK feels like he’s a bit of a private person. Not one to mix his personal life up with work. TK feels like he hardly knows anything about him other than the fact that he’s quick to put in an order and smart as a whip.

TK hopes to change that tonight. He doesn’t think anyone mentioned their plans to hit up Jimmy’s after the shift, but TK hopes more than he should that Carlos will agree to come.

Ruth doesn’t end up being the only time they work together today, although the sweet old lady is nothing like their young man in bed nineteen. People like him end up being the talk of the day, or of the year if they’re creative enough. Grace sends TK in there right away to get his vitals and as he secures the blood pressure cuff, Carlos pulls back the curtain to uh… locate the object.

“Tony,” he greets. “I’m Dr. Reyes. I’m going to be doing the removal, but we need to know what it is that’s inserted in the rectum.”

TK turns his head so he doesn’t smile. He shouldn’t laugh, he knows that, but he meets a lot of idiots in these halls. At least this guy hasn’t claimed to have ‘tripped and fallen’ on it.

“Ugh,” Tony groans. “Can’t you just yank it out?”

Carlos stands at the foot of the bed, like an immovable wall. And also the last guy you’d want to walk into the room when you have a foreign object shoved up inside of you.

“Not if it spiked or barbed which could lead to bleeding or perforation, and then you’d need surgery. So, if you tell us what it is, there’s a chance we can remove it here and send you on your way.”

“Okay, fine! It’s a bottle of tabasco sauce! Just get it out of me.”

Carlos’ eyes snap to TK, who’s looking back with an equally shocked expression. TK has come to learn to never be surprised anymore, but… why? Oh god… now TK is thinking about what would happen if the cap came off. He hopes this poor guy never has to know.

“BP’s a little elevated, but stable. Heart rate too.”

Carlos nods at him. “Thank you.”

Without looking, Carlos hooks his foot around the stool and rolls it over to him, effortlessly sitting down in a move that shouldn’t be as hot as TK finds it. Then he grabs the forceps and Tony’s eyes go wide.

“That’s what you’re going to use?”

“Let this be a lesson to you,” TK tells him, and he catches an amused smirk on Carlos’ face before he’s back to professionalism.

“That’s why you always use something with a flared base,” TK mutters as they exit the room twenty agonizing minutes later. TK swears his own ass hurts in sympathy.

Beside him, Carlos stammers and chokes on air and TK’s eyes go wide as he realizes how that sounded. He whips his head towards Carlos, finding him blushing. “Oh. Oh my god, I didn’t mean you specifically, I—”

Dr. Reyes shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I get it. You just—”

“You can do whatever you want—”

“—you caught me off guard is all.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” TK continues to babble. “Unless you end up here, then it does matter to me,” he laughs awkwardly, and Carlos’ blush deepens.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles.

“I’m going to stop talking now,” TK says and snaps his mouth shut. He goes back on that a second later. “Please don’t write me up for sexual harassment.”

Carlos can’t meet his eye as he gives a strained smile. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“Reyes!” Tommy calls out from the other side of the ER. “Need you in trauma one!”

He takes off, leaving TK standing in front of the nurse’s station, where Nancy is looking at him with poorly-concealed amusement. TK ducks his head and scurries away.

***

Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever gotten drinks with coworkers. It’s been offered to him before, though mostly out of courtesy, he thinks. A ‘Reyes, you should come out with us’ here and there, which Carlos always blew off with a claim that he had a case he wanted to study up on or that he should get home. It made him an outsider at his former hospital, he knows that, but the idea of sitting at a crowded table making small talk with people he didn’t know very well never felt more appealing than being in the comfort of his home.

For whatever reason, when Tommy tells him that they’re all going out for drinks, he doesn’t fall into old habits. He’s off tomorrow, and he can’t think of a good excuse for why he can’t go. Come to think of it, he doesn’t really want an excuse. It’s unlike him in a way that feels wrong, makes him question if he’s changed or if it’s just that the people who work here are the only thing that’s starting to become familiar.

It’s not like coming back to his apartment feels all that much like home yet. Plus, he doesn’t feel like he has to try so hard here. In Texas, it would’ve felt like a wasted night to go out. Instead of finishing a book or squeezing in a workout, he would’ve spent the night with strangers that he knew weren’t going to be his friends. He doesn’t have that feeling here. He finds himself wanting to get to know everyone more. He finds himself naturally falling into conversations with them, learning about Nancy’s cat and laughing at Judd’s quick retorts and admiring Marjan’s fearlessness when it comes to patients that most people would approach with reinforcements.

TK’s smile. He finds himself wanting to see more of that smile.

He can admire from afar; there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s his little secret. A workplace crush is good for morale, something lighthearted and fun to make the days exciting. Judging by the way Carlos’ heart tends to skip a beat while TK smiles at him, he’s definitely Carlos’.

Long answer short, he surprises himself by saying yes, which is how he ends up in a dive bar—for New York standards, that is—in a neighborhood far from his apartment that’s going to cause him a little bit more effort to get home at the end of the night. It’s a problem for later though, a concept Carlos isn’t used to. All problems are usually problems for right now, swirling and taking up space in his mind until he has no choice but to address them. It’s difficult to focus on his thoughts when he’s the subject of everyone’s attention though. It’s fair, he thinks. He’s the new guy. He’s sure they all already know everything about each other’s lives and he’s the only one who’s like an unread book.

They’re all gathered around two tables they had to push together—him, TK, Marjan, Paul, Mateo, Nancy, Tommy, Grace, and even Judd, who Carlos now knows is Grace’s husband.

“So, Carlos. You ever been to New York before?” Marjan asks.

Carlos forces himself to stop fiddling with the label of his beer bottle. He doesn’t want to give off the impression that he’s anxious to leave or wishing he was somewhere else. “Not before I moved here last week. Well, once for about half a day for the interview.”

Paul grins around the mouth of his bottle as he tips it back. “You have so much to learn, my man.”

No one offers anything now, but it feels like an open invitation if Carlos wants to check out the best pizza place or needs to know what barbershop is good.

“What about all of you? Where are you from?”

“Chicago,” Paul tells him.

“Miami,” Marjan adds.

“Judd and I were in DC for awhile, but Texas before that.” Judd drapes an arm around Grace and Carlos smiles at them.

“Texas.”

“Texas.”

“Texas.”

A startled laugh escapes Carlos as Nancy, Mateo, and Tommy list their answers one by one.

“Wow. I know I heard a few y’alls from Judd, but not the rest of y’all.”

Tommy shrugs. “You end up out of Texas long enough…”

“Except for Cowboy Judd,” TK argues, and everyone laughs. Carlos’ eyes find TK.

He’s sitting across the large, round table from Carlos. There’s a small spotlight above him which gives him a slight halo glow. Carlos has never seen him out of scrubs, and now he wears a black button up with short sleeves that makes his arms pop and causes him to look equally as soft with its small flowers and his rosy cheeks. Carlos realizes he still doesn’t know where TK is from and when TK seems to put together that he’s the only one who hasn’t answered, he grins widely.

“Born and raised,” he boasts. “Quite literally. In our hospital.”

Carlos’ brows shoot up. For a long time, Carlos could say the same about himself, but that’s not the same as TK who has committed to Mount Sinai for a decade. “Wow.”

“You seem surprised,” TK challenges, and Carlos isn’t. Not really. He figured TK was a New Yorker.

“No. I can hear it in your voice.”

TK seems caught off guard, but then he smiles and studies Carlos. “I can hear your Texas in yours.”

“Well,” Carlos glances at Tommy, “If you’re right, you won’t forever.”

Carlos surprises himself by saying it. He didn’t know he planned to stay in New York, and though it’s certainly not set in stone, being here feels like the change he needed.

Chapter Text

“Too shallow.”

Carlos pauses completely, staring at the CPR dummy in disbelief. His compressions are not too shallow, but the whole thing is lighting up red like he’s barely putting any pressure on it.

“What? I’m—” he groans. Starting up again, Carlos locks his hands together and throws his whole body into it even more than before as he basically assaults the dummy’s chest.

“Too shallow.”

“How?” Carlos cries out, thankful it’s only him in this small training room. He doesn’t get why he even has to do this. His certification is up to date, but because it’s not through this hospital, he has to redo it? Stupid. He’s been in here for twenty minutes, working up a sweat, when he should be out saving actual patients instead of picky pieces of plastic.

“Too shallow.”

Carlos is going to lose his mind if he has to hear that irritating computerized voice one more time. “No, it’s—”

“Too shallow.”

Carlos throws his hands in the air. “I do this on real people! I know how to do chest compressions you stupid—”

“Woah. Take it easy on him, he’s already dead.”

Carlos startles, whipping around to find TK entering the room. “This thing is broken!” he accuses.

TK looks to the dummy then to Carlos then to the dummy, looking like he’s trying not to smile. “Shouldn’t you be good at CPR?”

“I am!” Carlos insists, and then TK finally cracks a smile and he deflates. “I swear there’s something wrong with this sensor or something because I am putting my full weight into this guy’s chest and it’s still ‘too shallow’.”

He watches as TK’s eyes dart to his arms, and then Carlos looks down too. It’s obvious he’s been exerting himself. His skin is red and his veins are popping and he rubs the back of his hand over his forehead, slightly embarrassed by his outburst now that he’s starting to calm down.

“There’s a trick for these,” TK tells him, and Carlos sighs in relief.

“Thank you,” he says as TK comes closer.

Carlos is standing right in front of the dummy, which means TK presses right up against him to be able to reach the back. Carlos should get out of the way, but then the seconds tick by and he’s already here and there’s no use in moving now. TK is warm against his side and he smells good even after eight hours and Carlos soaks it in.

“It’s always wonky,” TK explains as he fiddles with the connection cable sticking out of the man’s ribs. “We’ve put in a request for a new one, but…”

He shrugs like Carlos understands, and he does. Money is everything and if the CPR dummy still works as long as the cable is held in a specific position, that’s good enough for them.

“That should do it,” TK says as he steps away.

Carlos looks down at the fake mannequin’s smile and he feels like he’s being mocked. “Thank you,” he says. “Do you need to use it?”

TK smiles. “I did come here because I’m up for recert, but I’ll let you finish first.”

He punctuates his statement with a cheeky smile, like he wants to see if Carlos still struggles.

“Thanks,” Carlos says dryly, and TK chuckles as he takes a seat in the chair by the door.

Carlos takes a deep breath as he turns back around. He resets the test, poises his hands over the chest, and gets to work. He lets muscle memory take over as he begins his compressions, and through his mental counting, he hears TK cheer in the background when the dummy lights up green. Carlos doesn’t let his focus fade, but he does smile to himself. When his three rounds of CPR are done, he waits for the screen to show him his score, and groans in relief when he sees he finally passed.

TK laughs as he stands. “Congratulations, Dr. Reyes. You saved him!”

Carlos laughs along with him at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. This is what he needed after a difficult morning. He’d been seeing back-to-back CVAs and traumas and detoxes since he got here and Paul all but demanded he go check this item off his to-do list to give him a break from the floor. Carlos didn’t want to, not when people out there needed help, but now that he’s here, away from the chaos and laughing with TK, he’s grateful for the minute away.

“Wish I wouldn’t have,” Carlos mutters, and TK lets out a head-thrown-back full body belly laugh.

Carlos becomes mesmerized by the sight. It’s no secret that TK’s utterly gorgeous, Carlos has thought so since the moment he laid eyes on him and he’s heard Nancy tease him about patients’ comments enough to know he’s not the only one who thinks so. But that’s only amplified when he’s happy. And Carlos loves to be the reason he is.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you wish death on a patient.”

Carlos smiles. “I should go out there,” he says regretfully when the conversation lulls. There’s no reason for him to stick around. “Before I see you get it right in one try and I lose all my self-confidence.”

TK laughs again, this time more of a giggle. “You better get out of here, then.”

***

“I wanna speak to a doctor!”

TK fights back a sigh. If he had a nickel for every time he’s heard that, he’d probably make more in a year than the actual doctors do.

“I understand, sir. One will be here as quickly as they can.”

The sixty-year-old in his frumpy green gown with his jeans still on underneath sits on the bed in his room, growing more irritable by the minute. He’s been here for a few hours—far less than most patients—and he’s been nothing but demanding since, asking for coffee and water and to use the bathroom and turn the channel on the TV and a warm blanket and a sandwich… the list goes on. Which is why TK is the one who came in when he put his light on again, to give Nancy a break.

“That’s what you said thirty minutes ago. What is this place run by fucking clowns?”

“I understand you’re frustrated. Would you like me to ask your nurse about more pain meds? There might be something else she can get you.”

Alan looks like he couldn’t be more displeased. “That bitch doesn’t know shit. I asked her to help me take a piss and she wouldn’t.”

TK knows that’s not correct. An hour ago, he said he needed to pee, so Nancy brought him a portable urinal. And for some reason, this man who came in with a headache suddenly had non-functioning hands and needed her to hold his penis in the piece of plastic. She sent Mateo in instead and just like that, his hands worked again. Fucking miracle.

He’s had enough of this guy, and while they couldn’t call him out for being inconsiderate and annoying, TK will sure as hell call him out for the unacceptable behavior.

“We don’t accept that kind of language—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. TK immediately steps closer, further entering the room so this man doesn’t topple to the ground. Naturally, he looks annoyed by this. “I’m gettin’ out of this place to go to a hospital that knows how to run shit.”

TK chooses not to point out that it won’t be different anywhere else if it gets him out of this place. “You can do that, but your doctor will need you to sign an AMA form.”

“Oh, so that’s how you finally see a doc around here?” he laughs humorlessly.

TK bites back his comment and remains diplomatic. “Would you like me to—”

“This is fucking bullshit!” he cries out before grabbing the IV that’s lodged in his forearm and begins ripping the tape off of it.

TK rushes forward to stop him from yanking a needle out of his skin. If he wants it out so he can leave, that’s fine, but TK’s not going to let him start bleeding out in here.

He covers Alan’s hands with his own to get him to stop. “Sir, if you let me remove that it’ll hurt a lot less.”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he explodes, and TK steps back with his hands raised. Alan’s right. TK shouldn’t have touched him, he knows better than that, but he acted on instinct.

“Okay. Not touching you,” he assures. “I need you to stop pulling out the IV. I will remove it, but I need you to—”

“I said keep your fucking hands off me,” he shouts.

It all happens in a split second. Alan jumps off the bed just as TK takes another step forward. Before TK can even process that Alan is charging at him, he’s putting his hands on TK’s chest and shoving him back.

There’s commotion in the room, more than just the clattering of the tray that TK slams into. His adrenaline is pumping too hard as he tries to stay on his feet amidst the jolting pain from the tray against his hip to notice the new voices at the door. He does recognize Carlos’ voice shouting for security before his face is in TK’s vision. But that isn’t right, Carlos shouldn’t put his back to a combative patient.

“No,” TK chokes out as his hand lands on Carlos’ shoulder to move him, but Carlos captures his wrist and shakes his head.

“Paul’s got him. Grace is giving him Haldol and Judd will be here any second.” TK nods along to Carlos’ calming voice. Good, that’s good. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Without a word, TK lets Carlos lead him out of the patient's room to sit him in a chair at the nurses’ station. “Is this okay or do we need someplace more private?”

TK shakes his head. If it were any of his coworkers, he knows he’d be acting the same way, but when it’s about him, TK feels the need to insist he’s fine. It was just a shove. Sad to say, it’s nothing new or far from the worst he’s experienced.

“No, this is fine,” he assures.

Carlos is still looking at him with those big brown eyes—like a baby cow—as he crouches in front of TK’s chair. It feels oddly intimate and TK forces himself to take in the scene around him. Nancy is hovering just off to the side like she’s not sure her presence is welcome but she wants to check on him. Paul and Grace are now leaving the room as a second partner joins Judd. The patient appears to be back in bed, the drugs already taking effect.

“What hurts? Did you hit your head?”

TK’s attention is back on Carlos now. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, just my hip hit the tray. And no, I didn’t fracture anything. I’m just going to have an impressive bruise tomorrow.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten the mood, but Carlos doesn’t crack a smile.

Carlos pulls his penlight out of his pocket and clicks it on, shining it in TK’s eyes. TK rolls them and looks away. “Oh my god. I didn’t hit my head; I don’t have a concussion. I’m fine.”

Carlos manages to look a little sheepish as he turns it off and looks away.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and TK sighs as he closes his eyes.

“No, I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes again, actually looking at Carlos. “I guess I’m still a little wound up.”

Carlos gives him a sad smile. “Understandable.”

“Sweetheart,” Grace says gently as a hand lands on his shoulder. “How are you?”

TK shifts in his seat when sitting like this makes him feel like he’s stiffening up. “I’m fine. Is the patient alright?”

Grace blinks at him like she can’t believe he’s real, but what does she expect? They’re all here because they want people to be okay. “I think he’ll be just fine,” she tells him. “I’m going to file a report, okay. Whenever you're ready, I’ll need your full version of what happened.”

TK nods. “Right. Of course. Thanks, Grace.”

Judd comes to the counter opposite of where TK sits. “Do you want to press charges?”

“What? No,” TK dismisses immediately.

“You could,” Grace tells him gently. “He’s his own person. He’s in his right mind. He knew better than to attack you, yet he did.”

“He’s here for a headache. He could have a tumor or… or a brain bleed or a TBI,” TK lists rapidly. “We don’t know that he’s in his right mind just because he knows the date. I— no. No charges.”

Grace frowns as she looks at him, and if it were anyone else, TK would be in her position, but he doesn’t want to go through that whole mess when nothing really even happened to him. “You sure?” she checks.

“Yes.”

Judd looks to his wife, and then back to TK. “Okay.”

“Why don’t you go to the breakroom for a little bit. Drink some water, get a snack, let yourself calm down,” Grace suggests. TK wants to argue that he’s fine and he’d rather work, but Grace’s suggestion is less of a suggestion and more of a demand. He knows he won’t be allowed back on this floor for at least 30 minutes.

“‘Kay,” he mumbles as he stands. Carlos stands too and takes a step back to gives TK space, and then TK makes his way to the staff room. His phone is in his locker on the other side of the unit, so he grabs a plastic cup and fills it with water before sitting on the couch in silence.

He remembers the first time he was hit—a scared and confused dementia patient who was sundowning. He was only a year into the job and though they checked on him, his supervisor at the time didn’t say much more than ‘you gotta watch out for those ones’ before they were onto the next one.

Things have changed now. It’s not as accepted as a hazard of the job, especially when it comes from someone who knows better. There are de-escalation trainings to take and support from supervising staff and less tolerance for that kind of behavior, but it’s still rattling when it happens, and TK never knows if he’s making the right choice. He doesn’t know if by not pressing charges, he’s protecting a vulnerable person, or if he’s failing to protect another staff member down the road. He sees it in the news more often than not, a woman whose braid was yanked so hard she got whiplash or a man who got hit so hard with a cane he cracked his jaw. He wonders if nothing will come of Alan’s headache, if his outburst was borne out of nothing more than an anger problem that breaks free the next time he’s in a hospital and doesn’t get what he wants.

TK’s head jerks up when he hears the door open. Carlos enters with an apologetic smile like he doesn’t mean to bother TK. There’s something in his right hand, but TK can’t see it from across the room.

“Sorry. Just need a coffee,” he explains and TK nods.

“It’s okay.”

They fall silent as TK tries not to watch Carlos as he heads to the Keurig and starts his cup. “I know there’s not always an easy answer in that situation,” he murmurs as the machine starts to hum with life.

TK’s eyes drop to the linoleum floor. “Yeah,” he mumbles.

“I know I haven’t been here for long, but it seems like this team would back you either way.”

“Yeah,” TK repeats again with a small smile. He looks up at Carlos. “Yeah, everyone here is great.”

“So are you, and I know we’re all glad you’re okay,” he says, and warmth blooms inside TK’s chest, chasing away all the shadows.

“Thanks.”

Carlos quirks a small smile at him, half of his mouth curling up to pop out a dimple. Suddenly, he pushes off the counter he was leaning against and comes to TK with an arm outstretched. “Stole you an ice cream from the patient freezer. Hope chocolate’s okay.”

Sure enough, a small cup of chocolate ice cream is presented to TK. He chuckles softly and takes it. “Thanks, Dr. Reyes.”

His nose wrinkles. “Please call me Carlos when we’re not with a patient.”

TK nods in response and raises his ice cream in a cheers. “I’ll be out there soon, Carlos.”

“Take your time.”

When Carlos is gone, TK finally stands from the couch. He grabs a spoon from the drawer and takes a closer chair as he peels off the lid. When the container is empty and his mouth is cold, TK tosses his trash and gets back to work feeling lighter.

***

Even after two days, Carlos can’t get over the fear that leapt into his throat when he heard a crash from the direction of a room TK was in.

He’s immensely grateful he was only charting, able to dart in there and make sure things didn’t get worse, even though he knows anyone else would’ve done the same. But he needed to be there. He needed to see with his own two eyes that TK wasn’t injured and now that it's 48 hours later and Carlos is still thinking about it, he can’t lie to himself anymore.

It’s impossible to deny that he doesn’t feel differently about TK than the rest of his coworkers.

He likes the rest of them, they’re fun and supportive and hard workers and incredibly smart. TK is all those things too, but TK makes him nervous in a way he hasn’t been since high school. He makes him less confident, constantly worried about making a good impression like he’s a middle schooler and not a licensed physician, but he also makes Carlos brave. He makes Carlos less reserved to live, saying yes to drinks after work or sparing a few minutes to chat instead buckling down and writing his notes without waiting a second.

He’s different. He makes Carlos feel different, like no one else has before.

Even now, on his day off, Carlos’ thoughts should be anywhere but the hospital, yet he’s taking a walk through his neighborhood wishing he had TK with him to explore with. He wishes he had TK’s number even, just to text him an innocent question about a good takeout spot which might lead to an ongoing conversation.

He comes home and wishes for more of the same, for someone to decorate this place with him. It’s got good bones—exposed brick, high ceilings, big windows to let in afternoon light—but it’s sparse. He didn’t want to pack everything from Texas. He doesn’t know if New York is going to be his home, or only his home for two more years. Either way, he’s here without a plant or a painting on the wall, wondering if it’d be weird to ask TK to go shopping with him for decor.

As if he willed it into existence, his phone starts to ring.

It’s not TK though, and Carlos is surprised to find Iris calling. They’ve texted here and there, but haven’t spoken since Carlos got here. It brings a smile to his face to see her name and he answers the call.

“Hey, husband,” she greets, and Carlos grins despite himself.

“You know I’m not your husband anymore, right?” Carlos questions as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the sofa.

“You’ll always be my great first love,” she sighs wistfully like she’s in an old-timey movie and Carlos chuckles. “How’s New York?”

Carlos doesn’t know where to begin. In the few weeks he’s been working here, it feels entirely different from his time in Texas. He knows he doesn’t have to spare details from her or gloss over the nitty-gritty. They met in med school, and though she never finished the program, it wasn’t because she couldn’t handle it. So, he tells her about the differences in cases. More GSWs and more overdoses. More pedestrians being struck by vehicles or bicycles. Less farming accidents and riders thrown off their bull or horse. But he also tells her about the culture, the teamwork and the sense of family that he feels inside the walls of the ER. Naturally, he starts to talk about TK. It’s an accident really, Carlos didn’t intend to bring him up, but Iris caught onto the change in his voice.

“TK, huh? What’s going on there?” Her voice is teasing, but also inviting for Carlos to say whatever he wants to. The problem is, he doesn't know what to say. He has a crush, but it’s not like anything’s been developed further than that. And it won’t be.

“I don’t know,” Carlos sighs, picking at the seam of his jeans. “I kinda can’t get him out of my head, which is so stupid.”

“Why’s that stupid? People date, Carlos. They even have real relationships.”

“Ha,” he deadpans. “I just feel like I should be focusing on my career.”

Iris is silent for a moment, and then she asks, “How many hours have you worked this week?”

Carlos frowns. “What?”

“How many hours have you worked this week?” she repeats, and Carlos does the mental calculation.

“I don’t know, seventy maybe.”

She huffs a laugh. “And you think you’re not focusing on work?”

Carlos rolls his eyes and slumps against the backrest. “Well nothing has happened between us yet.”

He’s not distracted at work. He still is 100% focused on his patients when he’s with them and doing everything to put in his best effort, but he hasn’t touched TK more than brushing hands when passing equipment. He doesn’t know how he’d fare if he knew what it was like to kiss TK’s lips or feel his hands on his body. He doesn’t know what kind of distraction TK would be if Carlos really knew him, but he’s afraid it would be all consuming.

Iris doesn’t seem to understand the problem.

“Maybe you should change that,” she suggests.

“I don’t need to be gossiped about at work again,” Carlos mutters. That's the other half of the problem. Even if Carlos could still keep his head on straight around TK, people would talk. People would talk about his love life and the drama on the unit, instead of talking about his skills as a physician and his worth as a possible attending here one day.

Woah.

Carlos doesn’t know where that thought came from. He has every intention of finishing his residency here, but when did he start to think about staying beyond that? About hoping for a position upon completion of the program?

“You weren’t gossiped about at work because you kissed your hottie coworker,” Iris reminds him.

“I didn't say he was a hottie,” Carlos mumbles. He most certainly is, but Carlos did not use those words.

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t think he was a total hottie.” She’s not wrong. “What’s his last name? I’m gonna look him up.”

“No!” Carlos blurts out.

“Why? Is he one of those guys where you have to swear he looks better in person?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. You’re not Internet stalking him,” he says firmly.

“Fine. Start dating him then and send me a pic,” she says like that’s the easiest solution in the world. They could talk in circles about this for hours and still come to the same conclusions, so he changes the topic.

“How’s Austin?” he asks.

Thankfully, she doesn’t call him out on it. “Oh, same old. I actually ran into your parents the other day.”

She says it so casually like it doesn’t make Carlos choke on his water. “You did? Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m saying something right now.”

“Iris.”

“What?” she defends. “It was at the grocery store. I was buying pasta. They had a whole cart of stuff. It was awkward. There isn’t much to tell.”

“It was awkward?” he asks trepidatiously. He can’t believe his parents ran into Iris without him there to mediate. And that it was awkward. What did they talk about? Did they talk about him? Them? New York? He desperately wants to know what his parents were thinking during the conversation but he wouldn’t dare ask them.

“Of course it was awkward, Carlos. I haven't seen them in years.”

The pit in Carlos’ stomach grows. It’s not a secret that his life with Iris was so separate from his life with his parents, which is super ironic, all things considered. He hates so much of how he handled everything, but most of all he hates how much he hurt the people he loves.

“Did they seem… I don’t know, mad?”

“I don’t know; they’re your parents.”

“Well, I haven’t really spoken to them since I left Texas,” he blurts out, and he’s met with silence.

“They should be the ones to reach out. You have nothing to apologize for,” she says firmly, and suddenly Carlos feels eight years old with the girl a few years above him in school yelling at a bully.

Except it’s not exactly true. “I do, though.”

“You have apologized for things that needed an apology,” she corrects. “Whatever rift is between you now is their job to fix.”

“Maybe,” Carlos mumbles, unconvinced.

“Hey, let’s go back to talking about boy drama now. That’s much more fun.”

Carlos laughs despite himself, trying to stop Iris from searching ‘TK New York’ from over a thousand miles away.

The next morning, Carlos can’t keep his eyes off TK during morning rounds.

He’s chewing on his lip with his hands shoved into the pockets of his gray zip-up. It hugs his arms nicely and contrasts well with his signature navy scrubs. He might’ve gotten new shoes. Carlos doesn’t think he’s seen these white sneakers before. Regardless of his shoes, he’s leaning back against the counter with one leg crossed in front of the other in a way that makes his thighs strain against his pants. His eyes look tired but his hair is styled in a way that tells Carlos he didn’t rush here this morning. He took his time to get ready, and Carlos wonders what that routine consists of. If he takes the time to eat breakfast or works out before work, or if he waits until the last possible moment to get out of bed.

Carlos wouldn’t have noticed all of this if he hadn’t gotten here early this morning. He had time to chart review and chat with night shift, so most of the information Tommy is relaying to them isn’t news to Carlos.

When the report is over and it’s time for Carlos to make his rounds on his patients, he startles when a tech he doesn’t know all that well catches him for a chat.

“Dr. Reyes,” he interrupts.

“Parker, what can I do for you?”

He glances to the side, like he’s assessing who’s around, and then leans forward. “You got eyes for Strand?”

Alarms go off in Carlos’ head, panic swirling in his stomach. Had he been that obvious for a stranger to notice? He’s also taken aback by the brashness of the question. He forces a laugh he hopes conveys a sense of total confusion, like he has no idea what the guy is talking about. “What? No.”

“Relax, man. Everyone does. Even the straight ones,” he jokes. “But just so you know, he’s kind of the hospital bicycle.”

Carlos’ face hardens and Parker can’t possibly be implying what Carlos thinks he is. Surely he doesn’t think that’s appropriate. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he shrugs, “everyone has taken him for a ride.”

Carlos grows from uneasy to furious. Who the hell does this guy think he is to spread TK’s business around and essentially warn Carlos that he’s… what? Used goods? Carlos tries to tell himself that it’s none of his business what TK does and doesn’t do, but as inappropriate as Parker’s comment is, it does tell Carlos things that he didn’t know.

Regardless, he would’ve much rather found them out himself, preferably from TK, than be scared away from someone TK probably blew off because of his rude abrasiveness. Carlos will work with Parker, he will do his job, but he will never be able to look at him the same way again.

“I believe you have patients you need to attend to instead of worrying about your coworker's personal business,” he orders, and Parker has the decency to look a little guilty before it turns to indifference.

“Just thought I’d let you know, dude,” he says, like he did Carlos a favor.

He goes on his way, but Carlos stands dumbfounded in the corridor.

“Hey, you lost or something?” Dr. Marwani teases as she approaches.

Carlos shakes himself out of it. He can’t focus on this right now, he’s got work to do. “No. No, I’m good. You’re coming to bed seven with me.”

“You got it.”

Carlos rolls open the door and finds an older gentleman who looks extremely uncomfortable. Sweat is beading on his forehead and he keeps shifting on the bed like no position will lessen his pain.

“Good morning, Clark,” Carlos greets. “I’m Dr. Reyes and this is Dr. Marwani. We hear you’ve been having abdominal pain. Can you show me where it hurts?”

The man groans and gestures to between his right and left upper quadrant. That rules out appendicitis and any lower GI ailments.

“Did you eat anything different this morning?” Marjan asks.

Clark shakes his head. “No. No, I can’t eat. It hurts too bad.”

“Nausea or vomiting in the past 24 hours?” He shakes his head. “Been around anyone with acute GI illness?” Another shake.

Carlos rules out any acute viruses or food poisoning. “Dr. Marwani, can you do an ultrasound?”

“Got it.”

“Okay, Clark. When did your symptoms start?” he asks as Marjan preps the machine.

“Uh. I– I don’t know. I was fine when I went to bed last night.”

“And you woke up like this?”

“Yes. What’s wrong with me?”

“We’re working on figuring that out.”

Nancy comes into the room next, tapping the monitor behind his head to recheck his vitals. Carlos studies the screen until the new numbers appear. Low BP and O2. Marjan is just pressing the wand to the man’s abdomen and Carlos turns to her.

“What’ve we got?”

“So far, so good,” she says slowly before she moves her wand to a different area. And then she stops. She sees it. Carlos definitely sees it too, but this is a teaching moment, and he wants to make sure she’s on the same page.

“Dr. Marwani, differential diagnosis?”

She looks at him. She’s entirely professional, but Carlos can spot the alarm in her eyes. “Triple A without rupture.”

Carlos nods solemnly. With this man’s presentation, an abdominal aortic aneurysm was his first thought too. Based on what he saw on the ultrasound, they need to work fast.

“Tri– triple A, what like the roadside assistance?”

“Not that kind of triple A. We’re looking at your aorta. The big artery in your torso,” he talks quickly, then looks to Marjan. “Page Dr. Vega in here right now. And cardiothoracic surgery.”

To Nancy, he instructs on meds to push and by the time he’s done with that, Tommy comes flying into the room.

“Dr. Strand is on his way down, they’re prepping the OR,” she explains as she uncoils her stethoscope from her neck.

Dr. Strand? Interesting, but no time to dwell on it.

She sticks the stethoscope in her ears and then places the chest piece over the man’s abdomen. She’s silent as she listens and when she’s done, she presses on various points on his abdomen before making eye contact with Carlos and nodding.

Things move quickly after that. The man grows even more uneasy as they calmly explain his life-threatening emergency to him, and just as he’s asking if he’s going to die, someone new bursts into the room.

This must be Dr. Strand in his classic light blue surgical scrubs. He already has a cap tied over his head, but even without seeing all of his face, the resemblance is uncanny. There’s no way this man, Dr. Strand, isn’t related to TK. TK isn’t in the room now for Carlos to assess their interactions, and even if he was, now isn’t the time.

Carlos’ work here is pretty much done as transport rushes in and begins to take the bed out of the room. Carlos follows them out as Dr. Strand walks beside the man, explaining what to expect for the procedure in a manner so calm it’s as if he’s telling the man how to make a grilled cheese.

Just before they turn towards the doors that take him to the OR, Carlos spots TK by the nurse’s station. He’s watching them, or more so, watching Dr. Strand. A moment later, the two Strand men’s eyes meet and they share a small nod before returning to their tasks, confirming to Carlos that they know each other beyond a professional setting.

Chapter Text

“Last shift before the weekend, let’s get it,” Mateo says with way too much hype for quarter after seven in the morning.

TK spins around in his chair. He doesn’t want to use the word ‘slow’, but considering he’s sitting down right now, it’s not not slow. “Mateo, it’s Sunday.”

“Yeah, but then I have the next three days off so it’s the weekend for me,” he argues, and TK shakes his head as he laughs. He can’t argue with that, especially when he’s off until Wednesday.

“What are you going to do with your time off?”

“Probably sleep for twelve hours,” TK mumbles. His apartment sounds like a beautiful place to be right now, but then Carlos takes a seat next to TK, and TK figures this place has its own beauty.

“What about you, Dr. Reyes?” Mateo asks.

He looks up, confused with his signature pinched brows. “What about me?”

“Plans for your day off?”

“Oh. Um…” He thinks for a moment. “I was thinking about checking out Central Park. The weather’s supposed to be nice.”

And just like that, TK is envisioning weekend plans more exciting than sleeping. He pictures Carlos in a tank top with his hair loose as they find a grassy area to throw a blanket down. He pictures Carlos' head on his thigh and his hands in Carlos’ curls.

He’s so lost in his fantasy of getting to know Carlos outside of work that he doesn’t hear the question Carlos asks him.

“What?”

“I asked how your hip’s doing.”

“Oh.” TK looks down as if he can see the bruise through his clothes. “Fine. Just a nice bruise.”

Carlos looks like he doesn’t like that answer. “Is it healing okay?”

TK raises a brow. “Yes, you wanna check?”

Carlos blushes and looks away. “No. I believe you,” he relents, and TK fights a smirk. He’s found that smart, confident Dr. Reyes is easily flustered. Noted.

“Prep trauma bay one,” Grace calls out, and the jokes are over. TK is instantly on his feet. “We’ve got a multi-trauma coming in. ETA four minutes.”

“What did EMS say?” Carlos asks.

“Female. Fifties. Struck in a crosswalk by a taxi. C spine stabilized. BP dropped on-route, but pushed fluids and it’s stable again. A&O.”

Suddenly, TK’s ears start to ring. He slows down when the room feels uneasy. He doesn’t trust himself to make it to the trauma bay and he grabs the nearby counter for support.

Pedestrian struck. Female. Fifties. Oh god.

It’s not her. It’s not her, it’s not her, it’s not her, TK reminds himself.

“TK. Sit this one out.”

TK’s head snaps up. Tommy’s stern face is in front of him and TK fights past his nausea. “I’m good. I got it.”

“TK,” she repeats. “That’s not a suggestion. Go check on bed two’s gauze and get that IV started in twenty.”

TK swallows hard and resists the urge to look towards the ambulance bay when he hears the rush of incoming people. “Yes, Dr. Vega,” he accepts numbly, knowing that it’s his only choice because she has to go.

TK does his mundane tasks as asked and gives polite smiles as he shuts the door to the rooms he’s in when cries of family members start flooding through the department. Those were once his cries before he went entirely numb. It haunts him in flashbacks all morning. Tommy paging his dad. TK barely seeing Owen in front of him as he demanded to know what was going on. The doors closed to the room where TK’s mom’s body laid. The two of them entering together. TK not being able to feel a thing when Owen broke down into sobs.

TK works in an ER. He has seen just about every tragedy that has happened to himself or to someone he loves. He knows how to compartmentalize when he sees overdoses or cancer exacerbations. 90% of the time, that is. His mother’s emergency is his weak spot, the one that couldn’t be saved.

He hates being told he’s not strong enough to treat someone similar. He knows that’s not how they mean it, but it’s how it feels. And they’re right. One day, maybe. But not today. So he continues to do menial tasks to keep other patients well and doesn’t ask or look into the outcome of the woman in trauma bay one.

***

On stage at a dimly lit karaoke bar, it’s nearly impossible to tell that the TK from this morning—spooked and shaken like Carlos has never seen—is the same one that’s currently on stage singing a cover of Bitch by Meredith Brooks.

Carlos wasn’t really even aware that there was something going on with TK until he heard Tommy order him away. It’s clear something happened though, and Carlos may not know what that is, but he was invited with the group to unwind afterward. It’s how he finds himself sitting on an uncomfortable stool next to Paul while on stage, TK claims he’s a bitch, lover, child, and mother.

“Is he okay?” Carlos asks Paul after he can’t handle not knowing any longer. “After everything that happened this morning?”

Carlos still isn’t entirely sure what went down, but it’s clear the incoming patient affected TK in ways that it didn’t burden the rest of them. They all have their own cases that personally hit harder. For Carlos, it’s men shot in the line of duty. They take him right back to his father a few years ago, when Carlos didn’t know if he was going to make it or not. Thankfully, he did, but Carlos isn’t sure he can say the same about whoever it was TK was flashing back to.

“Oh, um…” Paul looks to the stage, to TK who’s strumming his air guitar, and Carlos regrets asking. It’s not really his business. He’s about to tell Paul to forget about it when he speaks up. “TK lost his mother a few years ago.”

Carlos’ heart sinks for him. “Oh.”

“She was in our ER. It was all just too much.”

Carlos nods gravely. “No, that’s… I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah,” Paul says. “My father died when I was a kid, but he wasn’t wheeled into my place of work where we failed to save his life. That’s a whole new level of trauma.”

Carlos doesn’t know how TK got through that. When Carlos’ dad was shot, he was still in med school on his pediatric rotation. He was nowhere near the ER. “Sorry about your dad,” he tells Paul.

“Thanks. So anyway, we try to do something fun together every once in a while. Especially when it’s a hard shift for someone.”

“And karaoke is fun?” Carlos asks doubtfully, and Paul barks out a laugh.

“Not getting up there tonight?”

“No,” Carlos mumbles. He could never do what TK’s doing, commanding a room with a level of confidence Carlos doesn’t know if he’s ever had outside of the hospital. “Hey, is his dad…”

“Cardiothoracic surgeon? Yup.”

So that was him, Carlos thinks. Dr. Owen Strand is TK’s father. “Wow. That’s a big legacy.”

“Oh, it is,” Paul agrees.

“No wonder he works at this hospital; it’s basically his destiny,” Carlos muses and Paul hums in agreement.

When TK comes down from the stage after a well-applauded bow, Nancy pulls him into a tight hug and Carlos sees some of those ghosts begin to haunt him again. His eyes aren’t as vibrant and then he closes them as Tommy tells him something Carlos can’t hear. Carlos feels like he’s intruding on a private moment so he looks away, intending to talk to Paul again, but Paul gets up to make his way to the stage. It’s then that TK occupies his empty seat.

“Excellent performance,” Carlos tells him, and TK laughs.

“Thank you.”

He looks around like he’s searching for something, and Carlos realizes he’s probably thirsty. “Want me to get you a drink?” he offers casually, his heart beginning to pound even though it’s nothing more than a friendly gesture.

“I’m okay, can I just,” he points at Carlos’ glass, “have a sip?”

Carlos looks down at his own drink. “It’s just water,” he clarifies, and TK accepts it graciously.

“That’s perfect.”

Carlos tries not to stare as TK’s lips wrap around the edge of the glass. He tips his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallows, and then his tongue darts out to collect the excess moisture when he’s done.

“You’re a lifesaver,” TK praises, and Carlos chuckles.

“Comes with the job description.”

It causes TK to laugh, and Carlos relaxes back into his seat as Paul takes the stage with Marjan. He’s more than happy to watch the performance with TK by his side, but then TK speaks up. “My mom used to play that at work,” he says, and Carlos gives him a questioning look. “She was an OB/GYN, but she died a few years ago.”

He gives TK a nod of understanding and a sad smile. “I heard. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” TK says quietly as he folds and unfolds a straw wrapper that was left on the table. “Uh, anyway, during c-sections, she’d always ask the mom if they wanted music played to distract them. When they said yes but couldn’t think of a song, that was her go-to. It’d always get them singing along and laughing, especially the ones that didn’t have many people there for her.”

Carlos laughs. She sounds like an amazing woman, and TK’s way to honor her is even more amazing. “Was that playing when you were born?”

TK fixes him with a look that’s borderline appalled. “I’m not that young,” he defends. “I’m twenty-nine.”

Carlos grins. “And here I thought we were the same age.”

TK looks alarmed by that. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

TK rolls his eyes, but smiles, then his eyes drift to Paul on stage. He and Marjan are in the middle of a Missy Elliott cover that has most of the room dancing along, but Carlos is too enthralled with his conversation with TK. “I do know that when I was born, she banned one of the doctors from her room because ‘he stole my leftover dim sum last week and he will not be delivering my baby!’” TK explains, changing the pitch of his voice in a way that has Carlos’ smile widening.

“She sounds awesome.”

TK nods in agreement and looks down, a smile of his own that’s adorned with sadness.

“I can’t imagine how that must've been, having two doctors for parents,” Carlos adds, and TK’s head snaps up in surprise. For a second, Carlos feels like he did something wrong. “Dr. Strand. I made an assumption.”

TK deflates. “You’d be correct,” he says and then sighs. “It had its times, that’s for sure. Is it really a surprise I ended up in the medical field?” he laughs humorlessly.

“Not at all.”

“Although, I didn’t totally follow their plans for me. With two doctor parents, they definitely wanted their kid to be a doctor too,” he admits with a twinge of defiance in his tone. Carlos can’t imagine how much he’s had to defend himself and his choices. “I swear my dad is still telling me that I should apply for med school just to ‘see if I get in’.”

“You could be a physician,” Carlos says encouragingly. “You have the drive and the knowledge—”

“Why can‘t anyone accept that not everyone wants to be a doctor?” he interrupts in frustration, and now Carlos knows he did something wrong. “I like being an EMT. I like spending time with patients and making them more comfortable. I don’t want to have to make the tough calls and I may not get the credit for saving their life but I do help,” he finishes defensively, and Carlos shrinks. He never wants to be one of the doctors that undermines those who work with him, and he did just that.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You just told me your parents pushed you and then I accidentally did the same.”

TK exhales and rubs his forehead before letting his hand drop to the table. “You didn’t,” he mumbles, and Carlos doesn’t want to argue about it.

“All I meant is that you’d be a good doctor, but you’re a good EMT too. A great one. And you should do what makes you happy.”

TK looks lighter again, and Carlos can breathe easy. They stare at each other for a moment and those schoolboy feelings come flooding back. He’s so incredibly fucked every time he looks into TK’s sparkly eyes.

“So.” TK tilts his head towards the stage. “When are you getting up there?”

Carlos instantly clams up and shakes his head. “Oh no. I don’t sing.”

He will die or kiss TK in the middle of this room or quit medicine before he gets on that stage to belt out a solo. His singing is reserved for exactly three places: the shower, the car, and the kitchen. And always when he’s alone.

Except TK isn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “Day shift rules. If you’re going to karaoke with us, you have to sing. Don’t like it, switch to night shift.”

“Oh, these are the rules?” Carlos challenges and TK nods.

“They are.”

Carlos sighs and looks out on stage. The duo is currently wrapping up and Carlos knows they’ll be looking for another contender in less than a minute. “Well, in that case.” He looks TK in the eye. “I guess I’m switching to night shift.”

TK’s face transforms as he laughs and he swats at Carlos’ arm. “Shut up. No, you’re not. I’ll go up there with you.”

Carlos raises a brow. “Really?”

TK shrugs. “I’ve already embarrassed myself once, what’s the harm?”

Dammit, Carlos already feels himself giving in. TK Strand has a magical effect on him. “I’m not doing any solos,” he reasons, and TK accepts that.

“Deal.”

Fuck. Carlos can’t believe he’s doing this. TK might very well be the death of him. He grabs his glass of water and tosses the rest of it back like it’s a strong glass of tequila and then stands. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

TK cheers as he stands. He grabs Carlos’ wrist and drags him to the stage as Paul and Marjan leave, as if Carlos is going to bolt if TK doesn’t hold onto him.

“What are we singing?” TK asks, and Carlos doesn’t even know where to begin with picking a song.

“Your choice.”

TK looks at him like that’s a dangerous offer, and Carlos is already starting to regret it as he scrolls through the available songs. “Pink Pony Club,” he decides. “My go-to CPR song.”

A nervous laugh escapes Carlos. He knows the song, of course he does, but there’s singing on stage, and then there’s singing on stage to a song about feeling proud when Carlos isn’t sure he’s worthy of that. He focuses on the other detail TK revealed. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not. It’s how I keep time.”

Carlos laughs again and the image of TK saving a life while humming Pink Pony Club is enough to make him loosen up. Besides, TK is already selecting the song and handing Carlos a mic. There’s no going back now.

Carlos feels as stiff as a board as the piano intro starts up. When his coworkers begin to recognize the note, they buzz with excitement, turning their attention towards the stage in a way that only makes him grip his microphone tighter. Is it hot up here? God, why are these lights so bright? He feels a little nauseous which is dumb because he regularly performs life saving procedures in high stress situations, but now his palms feel clammy from zero-stakes singing.

He’s so distracted by worry that he misses the first few opening lines, causing TK to look over at him in smiling encouragement. Carlos frowns at him as he holds the mic and then TK joins his side and steals all his breath by wrapping an arm around him.

“Sing!” TK encourages right before they hit the chorus, and hesitantly, Carlos begins to quietly sing along.

Cheers erupt from their friends and half the bar is on their feet, though Carlos thinks that has more to do with the song choice as opposed to the performance of it. Still, the excitement he sees on everyone’s—and TK’s face—causes him to loosen up. As they get into the second verse, Carlos realizes he’s having fun. Even as TK lets him go and is parading around the stage, Carlos keeps singing. It’s much easier to do when everyone in the bar is singing along, doing wonders to drown out his voice.

He smiles brightly as he sees Marjan twirling Nancy around. Tommy looks like a proud mom and even Judd is bouncing his head as he sings along. Carlos doesn’t know where it comes from, but suddenly a wash of emotion floods over him as he takes a second to stare at the words on the teleprompter.

Still love you and Tennessee, you’re always on my mind

And, Mama, every Saturday I can hear your Southern drawl a thousand miles away

Those words consume Carlos’ soul as he sings them to the crowd, to his own family a thousand miles away, to himself. He never thought his life would lead here—a karaoke bar in NYC with a group of coworkers that make him feel like family, a man on stage with him that makes Carlos’ heart flutter like no other, and a feathery boa around his neck that someone from the crowd threw at him. Maybe he was wrong before; he does feel proud.

He’s never felt more free than he does at this moment right now.

Oh mama, I’m just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It’s where I belong

They hold out their mics for the end of the song, letting everyone chant with him. He meets TK’s eyes as they stand under the strobing green and pink lights, and naturally they drift to each other’s sides. TK’s arm is around him again, this time thrown over Carlos’ shoulders. They share one mic for the last few lines and when it’s over, they’re met with thunderous applause that brings tears to Carlos’ eyes.

Words can’t describe how it feels to be in this room, to feel so loved and accepted and safe in a way he’s been craving since long before he left Texas. While they’re still on stage, TK turns to him, and for one heart-stopping moment, Carlos thinks he’s about to be kissed. “Are you okay?” TK asks over the roar of the crowd.

Carlos smiles brilliantly. He thinks there are tears in his eyes but they’re too complicated to explain right now. “I am. Thank you.”

TK gives him a goofy look, and Carlos doesn’t blame him. He has no idea what Carlos is thanking him for, but he can’t explain that it feels like his whole life just changed tonight.

“Sure!” TK smiles, his bubbly personality out in full force. “I think I’ll take you up on that drink now!”

Carlos grins. “I can do that.”

***

TK hears about it on the news first. Well, from a notification he sees pop up on the top of the screen while he’s sending a quick text to his dad that dinner tomorrow night works for him.

Apartment fire in the Bronx.

The information spreads like, well… like wildfire, and soon the words ‘mass casualty’ are being thrown around the unit. All patients that are being admitted are transferred out of the ED as quickly as possible and they’re preparing for an all hands on deck situation. Mass casualties don’t happen too often, but they occur enough for everyone to know the procedure. Moments like this always remind TK of working in an emergency room during the heart of the pandemic, how all thoughts, prayers, and resources went to those with the infection, but they still had people coming through those doors because of heart attacks and car accidents.

Right now, the woman in bed three still needs a transfusion regardless of apartment fires, and the siblings in room eleven still want their mom to be getting the best possible care even when dozens of New Yorkers are going to enter those doors needing urgent medical attention.

Jacobi Hospital in the Bronx has the burn unit, but TK knows they’ll get all the smoke inhalations, less severe burns, and other injuries here. In other words, it’ll be a long night. It has to happen an hour before he was supposed to be done too. Now he knows he won’t be out of here for the next several hours, even with the help of night shift. In fact, they’re probably calling them now, seeing if they can get here an hour early.

The next several hours are harrowing. TK feels like he never stops moving, treating people who aren’t getting enough air, those whose lungs are failing, those who fell through the floor and shattered multiple bones alongside internal bleeding. All TK knows for the rest of the night is keep people alive. It’s running through all their minds as they rush from place to place, but of course, just as it always goes, there are some that don’t make it.

TK stops counting how many lives they lose tonight once it hits double digits. Instead, he focuses on the people who show up in the waiting room, shoving pictures in his face and shouting out names of loved ones who live in the building. TK reunites as many families and friends as he can, but some he can’t help with and he doesn't know if that means they’re at a different hospital, or buried in the rubble somewhere.

He smells like soot himself by the time he’s told to go home. He drags his weary body towards the exit, pushing open the door and getting his first breath of fresh air in far too long. He glances behind him to see if anyone else is coming, and finds Carlos with his bag thrown over his shoulder looking just as defeated. TK hasn’t seen him much tonight, hasn’t spoken to him about anything more than requests made and updates given.

“Thanks,” Carlos mumbles as TK holds the door open for him.

TK only gives him a small smile in response as the two of them step out into the night. Or… the dawn. TK hadn’t realized it was already early morning.

“Woah,” Carlos mutters, echoing TK’s thoughts as they stare across the street at Central Park.

“I didn’t realize it was morning,” TK says, and Carlos nods.

“Yeah.”

They should probably keep moving, they’re blocking the doors, but TK feels stuck right here. He feels like he doesn’t know what to feel, his mind too tired and his heart too heavy, but also proud. He did save some people tonight. He never knows what’s the right way to proceed after shifts like this. He usually talks to one of his friends after a particularly tough day, but with all of them getting cut at different times tonight, it’s hard to make that work. Except Carlos is here, and Carlos might be just who TK needs.

“I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to take a walk?” TK nods across the street at the park. “I just… I don’t think I can go home yet.”

Carlos is quiet for a moment and he appears shocked by the question. Just when TK is about to tell him to disregard it, he rolls his shoulders back and looks lighter. “A walk sounds good.”

Silently, they cross the street that’s starting to fill with morning traffic. There’s a path that weaves into the woods and they walk in tandem as squirrels scamper across the asphalt in front of them and birds begin to sing their morning songs overhead.

“Days like that never get easier,” Carlos suddenly breaks the silence, and TK takes a long inhale of fresh air.

“No. They don’t.” TK looks over at Carlos’ side profile. It’s covered in shadows, but stubble is starting to grow along his strong jaw. “Did you see a lot in Texas?”

Carlos thinks on it for a moment. “A couple times a year, yeah. Tornados, bus accidents, the year we got a bad ice storm. Tornadoes were always the worst though.”

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine having to work through one. Having to worry about your own life as well as your patients’.”

Carlos nods and their shoulders brush as a woman with a baby stroller jogs past them. They don’t separate after that, TK notices, choosing to allow their arms to bump into one another occasionally as they sway by their sides.

“You handled yourself really well in there,” Carlos commends. “I felt like it was my first day all over again.”

TK is taken aback by that. He hadn’t seen much of Carlos, but apparently Carlos saw him, paid attention to him and was impressed by what he saw. Now TK wishes he would’ve taken more note of Carlos, so he’d have some evidence to argue against Carlos’ self-doubt.

“It was your first one here. I wouldn’t expect you to know every in and out.”

Carlos hums. “Grace was a force though.”

TK laughs for what feels like the first time all night. “Always is.”

“Your whole team is… really amazing. Everyone works so well together and trust me, that’s not always the case.”

This time, TK purposely bumps their shoulders. “They’re your whole team now too.”

“Right.” Carlos chuckles. “Still getting used to that.”

TK hums, looking around as the trail starts to loop. He’s not ready to turn back and go their separate ways yet, but they’re getting further and further into the park and TK has been on his feet for far too long.

“Okay, maybe a walk after all of that was overambitious. My feet are killing me.”

Carlos smiles, nodding to the bench up ahead. “Let’s sit.”

When he sinks down onto the seat, TK sighs in relief as the pressure is taken off his legs. And then Carlos sits down too and he’s far closer than he needs to be. Not that he minds. When he’s done focusing on the man beside him, TK looks up, and his breath catches in his throat. Beyond the skyscrapers that tower high above the east side of the city, the sun is starting to rise, painting the sky a mural of colors.

“Wow,” Carlos exhales, and TK can’t do anything more than nod in agreement. “It’s almost… poetic.”

He uses the word with uncertainty, like he’s never described something as poetic before. TK understands though. He thinks that’s the perfect word.

“It was such a horrible night, and yet…”

“And yet,” Carlos repeats in agreement.

By their sides, Carlos’ finger brushes against the back of TK’s hand. His heart begins to beat quicker, butterflies in his stomach flapping their wings just like the birds in the trees above them. Without looking down, without taking a breath, TK stretches his hands so his fingers can hook around Carlos’.

Years later, they’ll each have their own version of who reached out first, but in this moment, it’s a combination of the two of their movements that causes their palms to press together and their fingers to slide home.

TK breathes again. He keeps breathing, keeps staring at the sunrise, keeps feeling the warmth of Carlos’ hand in his. He keeps breathing. He’s here, he’s alive, and he’s reaching for Carlos’ cheek with his free hand before he can think twice.

TK sees Carlos’ wide eyes before he slams his closed and presses their lips together. All the noise in his head—the cries of humans and alarms, of suffering and pain—quiet, and it’s just the two of them in the park watching the sunrise. Their two lips pressing together, meeting for the first time.

TK doesn’t drag it out despite how much he wants to. It doesn’t feel right to grip the back of Carlos’ hair and sink in deeper without at least seeing how Carlos is responding to the unexpected kiss. He looks shell shocked when TK bats his eyes open, like even though they were holding hands, it’s the last thing he thought TK was going to do. TK didn’t know he was going to do that either. He certainly didn’t plan for that when he started his shift. Didn’t put on his scrubs and think ‘today’s the day I kiss Dr. Reyes!’. He didn’t intend for more than a comforting conversation when he invited Carlos to this park. But then they were here and nothing felt more right than doing that.

He’s not the only one who seems to think so because before TK can say anything or try it again, Carlos is surging forward. A small whimper escapes one of their mouths, maybe both, and though the kiss is still chaste, it’s deeper. It’s not a nervous brush of lips but a full liplock. It’s the plushness of Carlos’ bottom lip pressing against TK’s top one. It’s the squish of their noses against the others’ cheek. It’s their thighs pressing together to bring them closer.

It very well may be the best kiss of TK’s life.

When they separate, there’s a brief moment where everything that’s unsaid seems to hang in the air, and then their eyes flick up at the same time and it’s like all of that can remain unsaid for now. TK smiles, and Carlos lets out a small laugh of disbelief. He’s holding TK’s wrist, keeping TK’s hand on his cheek, and TK almost feels nervous, wondering if the handsome man in front of him feels just as excited about kissing him.

His cheeks look a little rosy and his eyes twinkle as the sun rises higher, and TK has to bite his lip that Carlos touched to rein in his smile.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” TK asks quietly, breaking the silence.

Carlos’ eyes widen and TK realizes how that came out. “Oh…”

TK shakes his head. He didn't mean… well, he does. He definitely wants to do that with Carlos, but not right now. Not tonight. “Not— I just don’t really want to be alone tonight, but you don’t have to, I—”

“TK,” Carlos stops him. “Lead the way.”

Their hands stay intertwined as they make their way out of the park. TK is doing a mental tour of his apartment, trying to remember if he left anything embarrassing out or was sloppy the last time he was home. There’s nothing he can do about it now. Carlos is coming over. To sleep under the same roof. Maybe in the same bed. He has no idea what he’s walking home to.

“It’s about a 40 minute walk, or we can take the subway,” TK offers.

“Can I order us a car? Normally, I’d walk but I think I might fall asleep standing up,” Carlos confesses.

“Let me do it,” TK pleads, a little too insistently. Carlos might be the doctor, but TK can still treat him to what he wants.

Thankfully, Carlos offers no resistance and he orders the ride. It meets them on the street where they entered the park, right outside the hospital. No one they know exits the building at that time. No one they know sees them slip into the back of the same car, two lonely souls choosing not to be alone tonight.

Chapter Text

Carlos feels like he’s outside of his body as he follows TK into his apartment.

He knows he’s not, obviously. He can still feel the weight of TK’s hand in his and the soft press of his lips. But going home with TK, just to sleep, is not where he saw his night going. Not when he was slamming a coffee between patients and certainly not when he was cutting away eschar.

He knows all of his attempts to convince himself that his attraction to TK wouldn’t go anywhere, that this was just a bit of fun, were futile. The second TK looked in his eyes with his lips still shiny from Carlos’ spit and asked Carlos to come home with him, he knew he’d follow the man anywhere.

He doesn’t know if he’ll get to ‘anywhere’, but he made it to TK’s apartment, which makes Carlos’ palms sweat and has him panicking about his potentially stale coffee breath. TK already kissed him once and didn’t offer a polite smile before leaving. Carlos hopes that it’s probably okay.

TK’s home is nice—a studio apartment that Carlos can tell he’s lived in for years. It’s decorated with art that looks like it took time to collect, as well as various knick knacks that cover different shelves and tables. His bed is on the far back wall, behind the sofa, covered in a deep green duvet and looking all too inviting right now. Carlos can see countless mornings there, burrowing under the thick blankets with TK in his arms as he rolls away from the morning sun.

He stops that dangerous line of thinking before he can get too far ahead of himself.

“You probably want to shower,” TK breaks the silence as he goes around flipping on warm yellow lamps despite the fact that it’ll be bright out soon. But then he pulls the blackout curtains shut and it might as well be two in the morning.

Carlos realizes he’s lingering awkwardly by the front door and he looks down at his clothes. He had to swap out his scrubs once today, so the ones he has on aren’t totally soiled, but still. He doesn’t want to put them on any of TK’s nice surfaces. He doesn't have anything to change into though, and Carlos realizes he didn’t think this plan through well. All he heard was an invitation for ‘more TK’ and he lapped it up like a thirsty puppy.

“Yeah. I do need one,” he confesses, and TK nods in understanding.

“I’ll grab you some sweats and a shirt.” Before Carlos can protest and—what? Offer to sleep in his dirty underwear?—TK comes over and holds out the clothes. “Here you go,” he says softly.

Carlos grabs onto the comfortable clothes and gives a small smile in thanks.

“Bathroom’s right through there.” TK points to the cracked open door along the wall in the living space. “The shower’s easy. Just pull out the shower nozzle and then turn right for hot.”

“Right for hot,” Carlos echoes with a nod. “Got it. Thanks.”

He heads that way, careful not to brush up against anything with his dirty clothes. The bathroom isn’t much different than Carlos’ own—cramped—but it has white subway tiles that remind Carlos of where he is and makes him wonder how he got here, naked in a hot man’s apartment in New York City. Texas him from a year ago—six months ago, even—would be wondering what the hell happened.

As promised, the shower is simple to operate and Carlos quickly steps in, letting the hot water cascade over him. He plucks a bottle of citrus soap off the wire rack and pours enough in his palm to make him feel like he’ll be clean without stealing too much from his gracious host.

There are two very big reasons why Carlos doesn’t stay in for long despite how good the warm water feels on his skin and how intoxicating it is to smell 100% like TK. One, his exhaustion is bone deep. And two, TK Strand is on the other side of the door waiting for him, and Carlos doesn’t know exactly what’s going on here, but he’s eager to find out. But that circles back to point number one. They’re both too tired to do anything tonight. Even though TK insisted that’s not why he invited Carlos here, he knows it’s on both of their minds. Still, Carlos wants to kiss him again. He wants to hold TK while his body lets go of the weariness of the day. He wants to know TK, in a way that’s bigger and more profound, that he does know.

He doesn’t know TK well enough to know what he’s thinking right now, but he hopes it’s somewhere along those lines. Except—and Carlos hates himself for it—he remembers what Parker uninvitingly told him that one day. This may not be as meaningful to TK as it is to Carlos. He tries not to hold that against him, to forget that he ever heard that and let TK tell him what it is he wants, but even knowing it’s a possibility that he might be into someone more than they’re into him makes him feel foolish.

It’s TK though. Carlos would be a fool for him.

When he’s done, TK is puttering around the kitchen, putting a few dishes away until he realizes Carlos has joined him.

“Do you have a plastic bag I can throw these in?” Carlos asks, holding up his wadded up dirty clothes.

TK looks to the clothes and then him. “Do you want to just put them in my laundry? I’ll return them to you.”

The offer makes Carlos hopeful. “Oh. Sure. Thanks.”

TK collects them and then says, “I’m going to hop in quick. Make yourself at home.”

Carlos has never been very good at that in an unfamiliar place, but he does allow himself to grab his phone out of his bag and sit down on the couch. He makes sure to turn off his alarm for tomorrow. More like today. In a few hours, to be exact. They don’t have to go back in for another 24 hours and though Carlos knows he’ll sleep away most of the day, he’s excited to have a day off for someone who loves work so much. It’s coming at just the right time.

He listens to the sounds of TK getting ready for bed in the dimly lit apartment—running water, a clunk of a bottle falling to the floor and a soft curse that makes Carlos smile, the hum of the AC. TK’s bed is just behind the couch. He’ll be only a few feet away from Carlos the whole night, listening to quiet breaths and the rustling of blankets as they make themselves comfortable.

Carlos’ breath hitches in his throat when TK comes out of the bathroom in a billow of steam. He feels like a nervous virgin on his wedding night, or maybe prom night if he had a more typical teenage experience. TK’s in a pair of loose fitting plaid boxers and a white shirt that’s not unlike the one he gave Carlos to wear.

He looks like coming home after a long night. Like a warm bed and a listening ear. Like a comfort meal and a safe place to land. He’s gorgeous, and Carlos doesn’t know what to do with himself when TK smiles softly at him.

“Hey,” TK murmurs as he flips the bathroom light.

“Hi,” Carlos whispers.

“You can sleep in the bed, if you want.”

Carlos didn’t realize he was waiting for an invitation, but he rises to his feet as soon as he’s offered a spot. They get in together in relative silence, like this is a well-practiced dance they’ve perfected over years. Carlos helps TK stack the throw pillows and draw back the covers. He effortlessly slides between the cool sheets and gets comfortable on his back. Carlos normally has a hard time sleeping in unfamiliar environments, but right now the presence of someone else beside him Is comforting after what he’d endured today.

He doesn’t feel weird about fluffing TK’s pillow to make it the way he likes. He doesn’t even feel weird about rolling onto his left side to face the middle of the bed. After TK flips off the lamp, plunging them into darkness as the sun begins to rise higher outside, TK does the same, and they meet in the middle.

TK’s eyes are bright spots in the dark, and for a moment they only stare at one another.

“Is this weird?” TK whispers.

It makes Carlos smile. “I feel like it should be.”

TK chuckles and it breaks some of the tension. He shuffles, readjusting his head on the pillow before relaxing again. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly, and Carlos’ heart feels like it’s glowing.

“Me too. Goodnight, TK.”

TK cranes his neck forward to catch Carlos’ lips again. The two of them share a long kiss before they fall apart, like they’re old lovers and not on the precipice of something brand new. Neither move closer to sleep, but they don’t move further apart either. They stay facing one another, and Carlos can’t overthink this. Not when he’s this exhausted. Instead, he falls asleep to the warmth of TK beside him.

***

TK wakes up hard.

It’s not a problem, not normally, but right now his erection is pressed up to Carlos’ ass, which is probably why it exists in the first place.

Even before TK becomes fully alert or opens his eyes, he knows his bed partner is Carlos. It couldn’t be anyone but him. Normally, TK doesn’t even like his hookups to spend the night. But here Carlos is, not having done more than kiss TK, yet cuddled with him in his bed. It’s nice, TK thinks. Comforting in a way TK didn’t realize he’d been craving.

He’s not sure where his plan came from to kiss Carlos or invite him to spend the night, but TK couldn’t bear the thought of parting ways, even though they’d done so countless times before. After karaoke, something shifted for TK. His easy-to-move-on-from crush turned into full blown infatuation as he watched Carlos’ comfort and confidence blossom on that stage. Judging by the way he’d reacted, Carlos hasn’t done many things like that before. TK felt proud of him in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Carlos is different. TK has known that for far longer than today, likely since the first time they met. He’s the first one in too long that makes TK want to try relationships again. Not just try, dive headfirst. He feels everything and more for Carlos—admiration, intrigue, respect, lust. Definitely lust.

He can’t tackle all of that right now, but when Carlos subtly pushes back against him, there’s one thing he can address. His arm is currently snug around Carlos’ chest, but he pulls it back and splays his hand on Carlos’ hip, the same way he would if he were fucking Carlos.

Carlos' breath hitches and he turns himself around, snuggling right into TK’s space. TK has a feeling he’s still half asleep; normally he’s not this loose and vulnerable. TK’s a little obsessed with it though, the way Carlos doesn’t appear so put together now. He lets himself take what he wants, which is evidently to be burrowed into TK’s chest. TK smiles to himself, letting his fingers run through Carlos’ hair and untangling the few knots that have formed in the night. When he’s no longer focused on that task, he realizes Carlos is pressing tiny kisses to his chest. TK smiles even wider.

He dials back on the lovesick expression when Carlos inhales deeply and leans back, like he’s finally alert and awake. “Good morning,” he murmurs. Their arms are still wrapped around each other and their faces are only a few inches apart. “Or afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” TK responds, unable to keep his happiness out of his voice. He sounds like a proper gentleman, greeting Carlos for afternoon tea, and it makes TK feel silly in the best way.

“Your bed is very comfortable.”

TK chuckles. Carlos is so fucking cute. TK wouldn’t be surprised if he thanks TK for sharing the blankets next. “Thank you. You want breakfast?”

“Not yet,” Carlos murmurs.

“I guess it’s probably lunch,” TK ponders as Carlos’ hand sneaks up the back of his shirt. His whole body shivers and he leans into the touch.

Carlos hums, shifting so he can see the clock on the stove. “Definitely lunch,” he determines. His eyes fix on TK’s lips, chest, and back to his lips. “Hey, TK.”

“Hm?”

His fingers twist in the inside of TK’s shirt as if it could bring him closer. “I know you said you didn’t invite me over here for this—”

“God, Carlos. C’mere.”

Their mouths slam together, hands scrambling for purchase on miles of muscular bodies. If the kiss in the park was a slow burning flame, this is an explosion. It’s like a dam bursts and as soon as they give themselves permission, they’re all over each other.

TK runs his leg up the outside of Carlos’ thigh, pushing and pressing closer until Carlos grips it and rolls them over. The new sensation is dizzying, and TK moans loudly as he feels the press of Carlos’ hard cock against him.

TK’s heard the giggles and whispers about the ‘hot doctor’ in the ER corridor. He’s never joined in on the gossip, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have the same thoughts. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a part of Dr. Reyes’ fan club, even if he’s a secret member. And now poised and professional Dr. Reyes, Carlos, is here, the weight of his body holding TK to the mattress as they move together, rolling hips and dirty kisses.

“Just like that,” TK pleads, daring to speak first.

“Like this?” Carlos mumbles against his mouth.

TK sucks on his bottom lip and then lets his head drop back to the pillow as Carlos begins to suck at his neck. “Mh hm.” He agrees before he realizes what he’s agreeing to. It feels too good to move another inch and TK considers they could probably do something that feels better, but that involves losing the feel of their hard cocks grinding together. “‘S hot, right?”

Carlos chuckles, downright giggles, against his collarbone. “So hot,” he gasps.

TK grips his back as they keep grinding together, arms wrapped tight around one another as they use each other’s bodies to get off. Carlos’ body moves like a rhythm, steady and addicting, yet switching it up every once in a while to keep TK on edge. His entire body is tingling, lighting him up inside and out as his mind swims with want.

He feels like he’s in a trance, letting a fantasy play out in his head, but it’s real. It’s real in every ripple of muscle under TK’s fingertips, every toe-curling kiss, every drag of their clothed cocks sliding together. It’s a tease, leaving him wanting more. He doesn’t know if he could handle more. This is almost too much and he begins to let out breathless noises as Carlos thrusts like he’s fucking him deep.

“Are you gonna come?” Carlos asks suddenly, like he knew before TK did. He feels himself falling forward though, hoping, knowing, Carlos will be there to catch him.

“Yes! Yes!” he calls out, his whole body starting to tremble.

“Shit, me too.”

TK grabs his face and kisses him deeply. “I want you to.”

“Didn’t even get our clothes off,” Carlos says with a chuckle that turns into a moan as TK rolls his hips. He’s frantic now, feeling his orgasm rolling in like a wave, nearly ready to crash into shore.

“That’s okay. Feels too good.”

How can it feel so good? The only bare skin that’s touching is their arms, the small areas where Carlos’ pant leg has ridden up, and where their shirts have become askew. TK needs just a little more of Carlos, a little more of him in a way no one else gets. With that thought in his head, he slips his hand past the waistband of Carlos’ sweats to palm his ass.

Carlos gasps and presses more of his weight into TK, practically pinning TK to the bed as he grinds against his body, using him to get off. TK feels dizzy. He’s overheated and his hand cramps with how tightly he holds the back of Carlos’ shirt and he wouldn’t dare dream of letting up right now, not when he’s nearly there.

“TK—”

“Yeah, I’m gonna—” TK’s mouth drops open, and then he calls Carlos’ name as pleasure overcomes him.

“Oh!” Carlos shouts and then he buries his face in TK’s neck, thrusts his hips forward, and groans before stilling.

TK squeezes his eyes shut and rides the waves of pleasure, clinging to Carlos’ shuddering frame. He feels twisted around, inside out, and upside down. That should not have been that good, but then again, TK should’ve known it would be just based on the kisses they’ve shared.

Carlos rolls off of him before he can tease Carlos about being crushed.

“Oh my god,” TK praises.

“Yeah,” Carlos exhales.

TK giggles and lets his arm fall over his eyes as he catches his breath. “That was really…”

He doesn’t have words. He didn’t even take his clothes off and he might’ve just had one of his best orgasms.

“It really was,” Carlos mumbles in agreement, sounding absolutely fucked.

TK turns his head to look at him, finding a beautifully rare sight of afterglow Carlos. His hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed, and there’s a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at the ceiling like he just found heaven.

TK wants to see that look, be the cause of that look, many more times. But right now he has sticky underwear and they should probably eat something.

“Where are you going?” Carlos asks, propping himself onto his elbow as TK gets up.

“Washcloth.”

“Oh.” Carlos looks down and frowns. “Yeah. Good idea.”

TK hurries up as he grabs a washcloth, letting it run under the warm faucet before reaching inside his shorts to clean himself up. He grabs a clean one for Carlos and returns to the corner of his studio that he has deemed his bedroom.

“Thanks,” Carlos says as TK passes it over.

TK smiles in response and then turns to the dresser to grab some clean clothes. He gets sweatpants for both of them out, feeling weirdly shy about shoving down his damp boxers even though he just came because of Carlos’ doing. When he has the fresh pants on and fixes his shirt, he turns to find Carlos’ gaze turning away from him, like he hadn’t just been watching when TK couldn’t catch him.

“Want a clean pair?” TK offers, and Carlos shifts uncomfortably.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

TK hands them over and then searches for his phone in his sweatshirt pocket from last night. He ignores the notifications and pulls up a food app instead. When he turns around, he’s mildly disappointed to see that Carlos has already changed. Maybe it’s better this way. The first time he sees Carlos naked will be in a better moment than half-assed clean up.

“We’re ordering food. I don’t even want to think about cooking,” he decides, and then wonders if that was way too forward of him. He doesn’t even know if Carlos wants to stay, but then Carlos relaxes against the pillows.

“Smart thinking.”

TK throws the curtains open when there’s a knock at the door thirty minutes later, letting the afternoon sun keep them warm as they settle in bed. Eating side by side, TK asks Carlos about how he’s liking it here so far and Carlos asks TK about the rest of the people they work with. TK tells him that Nancy and Grace have been there since long before he has and Tommy left and came back and how Mateo started less than a year ago, and the whole time they avoid talking about the elephant in the room.

TK doesn’t know what to talk about. He doesn’t exactly know what they’re doing here, too afraid of asking for more for the first time in too long and not being able to have it. So it goes unanswered for now and TK tells himself to just take it moment by moment. The closest they get to talking about them is when Carlos tells him he’s not out at work.

TK figured as much. He had no real reason to think Carlos is gay except for the occasional flirting and stolen glances that occurred between them sometimes. Now, that secret is his to keep too. He doesn’t know what that means for their future, if they even have one, so he drops a kiss to Carlos’ shoulder and then lays his head there.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promises.

“Thank you.”

“Were you out? In Texas?”

Carlos stiffens ever so slightly. “No. I wasn’t. Not really. It’s…” His voice trails off and when his voice comes back, it’s much quieter. “Kind of a lot.”

He says it like he’s ashamed, or maybe he’ll think that TK will judge him. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

TK sits up straighter and bunches the blankets in his lap so he can shift. He faces Carlos on the bed, sitting criss-cross to be able to see him. “You can tell me,” he offers softly. “If you want.”

Only Carlos’ eyes move to look at TK, assessing him like he’s assessing a threat. TK gives him an encouraging smile and shuffles closer so his right leg can bracket Carlos. TK loops his arms around his waist and kisses his shoulder before wondering if he’s too couple-y. Too clingy.

“Um. You might look at me differently.”

TK raises a brow. “Carlos, I may have been out since I was like… fifteen, but I know that’s not the case for everyone. I’m not going to judge you,” he murmurs.

“I wasn’t out at work, and I wasn’t out to my family until recently,” Carlos admits. “But it’s a little more complicated. Could I… can I tell you the rest a different time?”

TK leans closer and hooks Carlos’ chin with his thumb. He presses a soft kiss to Carlos’ mouth and slides their lips together when Carlos kisses back.

“Of course you can,” TK tells him. He won’t pretend he’s not curious, especially if it’s part of the reason he transferred to New York, but it doesn’t make a difference to TK. It doesn’t change the way he feels, not in the slightest.

Carlos looks a little lighter with that off his chest. With their takeout containers on TK’s nightstand, there’s nothing stopping Carlos from turning in TK’s grasp and tackling him back to the bed. TK giggles as Carlos seals their mouths together again and relaxes his body under the comforting weight above him.

“Wanna go for another round?” Carlos murmurs between kisses. ”Maybe get our clothes off this time?”

As Carlos begins to drag TK’s collar down to kiss low on his neck, TK gets a look at the clock and his whole body floods with disappointment when he sees how late it is. He considers blowing his dad off and blowing Carlos instead, but the last thing TK wants is for his dad to show up here when he misses their dinner.

“I’d love to, but I’m supposed to meet my dad for dinner tonight,” he says regretfully.

Carlos suddenly doesn’t meet TK’s eyes as he pulls back. “Oh. Of course,” he says with a forced casualness, accompanied by a weak laugh. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

TK didn’t mean it like that. He doesn’t want Carlos to run out of here and have it never happen again, especially when it’s clear Carlos wants something more. He pushes himself upright and straddles Carlos’ lap in a bold move, but it works.

“Can I take a rain check?”

Carlos instantly relaxes. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I’d much rather be here with you than dinner with my dad, trust me.”

He says it so absentmindedly—a hot, half-naked guy in his bed always wins out, duh—but Carlos goes quiet for a second too long and TK realizes they haven’t talked much about his dad specifically. He knows Carlos knows the great Dr. Strand, both professionally and that he’s TK’s father. He can probably make inferences and they’ve discussed a little bit about what it was like for TK growing up with two prestigious doctors as parents, but beyond that they’re probably a mystery to Carlos.

“Is it weird? Working with your dad?”

Reluctantly, TK climbs off Carlos’ lap. This feels like a conversation that’s not meant for teasing touches interspersed between the words. “A little. Working on different units helps.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t see his dad at work all that often. It’s more so the reputation of being Owen Strand’s son or the praise about Dr. Strand TK hears constantly. He loves his dad, but he knows his dad’s flaws too. The sun doesn’t shine out of his ass like everyone thinks. He’s a great doctor, ground-breaking, but that meant he wasn’t always the best father.

“Honestly, the worst is when people find out that Dr. Strand’s son also works in the building, and their first question is what I specialize in. When they find out I’m not a doctor, there’s always this moment of doubt on their face, like they’re thinking I didn’t get into medical school or didn’t make it through medical school. Like there’s only one future for me and I failed at it so now I have to settle for the job I do have.”

TK catches his breath when he’s done, not realizing he’s gotten so worked up.

Carlos looks at him with what can only be described as baby cow eyes and they consume TK’s soul. “I’m sorry, TK.”

TK shakes his head. “But that’s not really my dad’s fault. He can’t help the assumptions people make.”

“But he can act proud of you regardless. He can discourage people from thinking the only suitable career is a doctor.” TK blinks at Carlos in surprise, and then Carlos’ face shrouds and guilt takes over. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just said that, I—”

“No, Carlos. It’s okay. Really.” He reaches for Carlos’ hand, a smile playing at his lips. It’s rare for him to hear people talk bad about his dad unless it’s to complain about confusing orders and his dictation typos. “You might be right about that. I’ve always wondered if he’s embarrassed by me,” TK quietly confesses, and Carlos ducks his head to meet TK’s gaze.

“Then he’s an idiot.”

TK’s smile comes out in full force. “Dr. Reyes, did you just call the head of cardiothoracic surgery at Mount Sinai Hospital an idiot?”

Carlos lets out a strained laugh. “You will never prove it.”

TK joins in on the laughter and then he bumps their shoulders together. “Thank you.”

Carlos grins back and then they fall into another kiss that goes on until TK is in danger of being late.

***

“Is that a hickey?”

TK’s hand shoots up to smack his neck, and his dad’s amusement grows.

“Other side,” he points out, and TK sheepishly adjusts the collar of his shirt as he pulls out the seat of his chair at the restaurant his father picked out.

“Jeez, Dad. Hello to you too,” he mumbles as he settles in his spot.

“Hi, son. Is that a hickey?” he repeats, and TK resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“What am I? Seventeen?”

“No. When you were seventeen I could hear—”

“Okay!” TK holds up his hand. He picks up the menu and starts glancing at the sandwiches. “Thanks for the reminder.”

The waiter comes over at that point, filling TK’s water glass. His dad has been here long enough to know what he wants to eat, so TK quickly finds something and places his order too.

“How’s life down in the ED?” Owen asks when they’re alone again. “I see you have a new R3 down there.”

TK fights a blush. That new R3 was in his bed a few hours ago, doing things with his mouth that TK will think about for a long time to come. “It’s good, and yeah. He’s good,” TK explains. As a resident, he’s phenomenal, actually. He does his work well, is a team player, and is incredibly smart. TK doesn’t want to gush too much though.

“That’s great! Always nice to have an extra set of hands around,” his dad comments, and TK hums.

He typically strays from work talk with his dad. Sure, Owen comes down to the ED on occasion when he’s called for a consult, but he’s never worked there. The last time he spent any significant time in emergency medicine was the rotation he had in med school over three decades ago. And yet, he always finds a way to make TK feel like he knows more about the ED than his son who actually works there.

TK doesn’t think he does it on purpose—it’s just his personality, to feel large and in charge—but it grates on TK’s nerves and dims his spirit every time. He feels less than. Everyone, or almost everyone, in his department respects his knowledge and experience, but somehow his father still looks at him like he’s a little kid who’s accompanying his dad to the hospital and asking about all the different equipment with wide eyes.

Thankfully, Owen doesn’t seem too hell-bent on discussing work either. Unfortunately, he is intrigued about TK’s love life.

“So, the guy who left that mark? Something serious?”

TK shakes his head and fiddles with his silverware, unwrapping them from their napkin. “No,” he says immediately. But that feels too final. TK might want it to be more. “I don’t know.”

When TK looks up at his dad, he looks pensive, and TK braces himself.

“Do you remember Kaycie? She says she was in your class,” Owen says, and TK thinks. Vaguely he remembers the girl from his high school. They were never close, but she took as many science classes as she could, like TK. “She’s a CRNA in my OR now.”

He’s not surprised that’s where her career path led, but he’s not sure what that has to do with him. “Cool.”

“She’s got two little ones.”

TK hums. “Good for her.”

Owen barrels on. “And my PA just got engaged last week.”

TK sighs. It’s not hard to figure out what his dad’s getting at. “Are you implying that I’m getting old and need to settle down? Because you’re single.”

Owen wrinkles his nose like that’s in no way related. “And I already did the marriage and kids thing. Didn’t work out.” He shrugs, and TK’s expression drops as he stares at his father.

“Nice, Dad.”

His eyes widen. “Not— I meant the marriage didn’t work out. Obviously the kid did,” he insists and TK rolls his eyes. It probably makes him look childish, but TK doesn’t think he has much to lose in that department. “I just want you to be happy, son.”

“I am happy,” TK defends.

“Are you?”

“Yes! I’ve got a great job, great friends, an apartment I love….”

Owen waits for him to say more but when nothing comes, Owen gives him a knowing look. “You’re also the little boy who loved Valentine’s Day and romcoms and was rooting for every couple you’ve met. You like love, son.”

TK’s hates feeling so exposed. He does love love. He’s a relationship guy. He misses cuddling and gentle kisses and someone to talk to about his day with. He misses having someone on the other side of his bed regularly and a go-to person for work parties, new restaurants he wants to try, and family dinners. But he doesn’t know if his heart is ready to be vulnerable like that again. But then he thinks of Carlos' smile and wonders if maybe he is.

“Okay,” he protests.

“You haven’t introduced me to anyone in years,” Owen continues, and TK shrugs.

“No one worth introducing.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. It seems like everyone only lasts a few weeks, if that,” Owen points out.

TK raises a brow. “Are you slut-shaming me?”

“No! I’m glad your sexual health is doing well. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your pleasure, god knows I have—”

Maybe he’d rather be slut-shamed if hearing about his dad’s sex life is the alternative. “Okay, Dad.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he repeats. “You’ve always been a relationship kind of guy, TK. I don’t want you to give up on that.”

“Jeez, Dad,” TK says, feeling a little embarrassed about it all. It’s like he’s been told he better get on the market before his prime years are up. “You act like I’m a burden to this family because I'm the ancient age of twenty-nine with no prospects.”

Owen goes quiet and stares at him a little too fondly. “Your mother loved that movie.”

TK shrinks in on himself. Despite having vivid memories of watching Pride and Prejudice with his mom on days when they were both home sick, he mumbles, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Owen lets him get away with the lie, mostly because their food comes at that moment to save the day. When the waiter is gone, Owen says, “Give hickey guy another call, yeah? He might be good for you.”

“You don’t even know who it was,” TK points out, and Owen shrugs.

“No, but you had this goofy smile on your face when you walked up to the table. Let yourself want more.”

Chapter Text

Carlos hasn’t felt nervous walking into work since his first day, but today there are jitters running through him as he exits the sidewalk and enters the hospital. Good jitters. Jitters that are there because this is the first time he’s seen TK since they kissed goodbye at his door.

That was less than 48 hours ago, but the full day they spent apart yesterday felt extra long after everything that happened. Carlos has never had sex like that in his life, sex that is that consuming and powerful and leaves him wanting more, yet so comfortable. While it was new and exciting and heart pounding, it also felt like he had been with TK for years with a familiarity between the two of them that made Carlos want to never leave that bed.

If he had TK’s number, he probably would’ve spent all day yesterday agonizing over whether it would be okay to text him. The decision was made for him, but now the abrupt cut off after the time they spent together has only left him wanting more.

“Morning, Dr. Reyes,” Nancy greets him at the lockers.

Carlos snaps out of his thoughts and smiles at her as he throws his belongings into his locker. “Good morning, Nancy. I thought you weren’t in until tomorrow.”

She shakes her head. “Swapped with someone so I can have Saturday off.”

Carlos hums. “Big plans?”

“My sister’s coming to visit,” she explains, and now would be the time to open up about his own life with a comment that he also has sisters, but they hit the floor and see everyone huddled together with excited chatter.

“What’s going on?” Carlos asks.

“Strand brought doughnuts,” Paul praises, and then he steps out of the way, revealing TK at the center with two bakery boxes. He’s smiling wide, looking joyous overall, and Carlos’ heartbeat quickens.

As if sensing his presence, TK looks up and locks eyes with Carlos. His smile grows softer, more private, and Carlos mirrors the look.

“What’s the occasion?” Nancy grills as she bounds over.

“Just felt like doing something nice,” he explains, and Carlos has to fight a grin.

TK’s in a good mood. They slept together and now TK is smiling at everyone and bringing in treats just because.

“Carlos?” TK asks. “What do you want?”

You, he thinks. He wants more. He wants TK’s body, bare this time. He wants his mouth on him or to be inside of him. He’s so unbelievably hot in his scrubs that make his biceps bulge and his ass pop and Carlos wants him so badly he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He also wants a doughnut.

He flashes TK a grin and makes his selection—a classic doughnut with glaze drizzled overtop. He makes eye contact with TK as he sticks his thumb in the hole, a little obscenely considering their location, and then picks it up and takes a bite. He makes sure to lick his lips when he’s done and TK’s eyes darken, looking like he wants to drag him to a storage room.

Yeah. TK is definitely on board with what Carlos wants.

“Thanks, TK,” Carlos murmurs, and TK can’t do anything more than a nod.

He doesn’t know where his boldness comes from, but TK seems appreciative of his implication.

“We’ve got incoming trauma,” Grace calls out, and Carlos remembers where he is, snapping out of lovestruck man and into competent doctor. He shoves the rest of his treat in his mouth and brushes off his hands as the paramedics burst through the bay doors.

“Sixty-seven-year-old female. Code stroke. No last known well time,” the tall paramedic explains as Carlos swiftly walks along with the rolling gurney. He shines a light in the patient’s eyes and asks for her name, but she has trouble answering him. “Expressive aphasia, right-sided weakness, and history of TIA,” the paramedic adds, and Carlos takes the second needed to look her in the eye and thank her before he takes over.

“Let’s get a head CT with angio,” he orders as people rush around in the room. She gets transferred from the ambulance gurney to an ER bed as Marjan quickly assesses her GSC score. Less than a minute later, the patient’s being rushed out for her imaging so they know if it’s hemorrhagic or ischemic.

“I need some help in here!” a voice calls out from a nearby room.

Carlos’ head whips to the side. That sounded like TK’s voice.

He winds his stethoscope back around his neck, already halfway out the door. “You good in here?” he checks with Marjan and Mateo.

“Yes, go,” Marjan tells him, and Carlos dashes to the room next door. He has no idea who this patient is, he hasn’t gotten a report yet, but the sound of the alarm on his heart monitor is an indication that it doesn’t matter.

“Shit,” Carlos mutters as he sees the red light and ‘ASYSTOLE’ blinking on the screen. TK is already doing compressions, looking frazzled.

Carlos rushes over and slams the code blue button on the wall. “You good to keep compressing?” he asks as he grabs the BVM.

TK nods as he uses his body weight to keep compressing the man’s chest. His badge bounces and a pen falls from his pocket and TK pays it no attention. Carlos positions himself by the man’s head, securing the bag over his face and squeezing twice once TK calls thirty. By then, a whole team is entering with a crash cart. Dr. Risher is still here from the night shift, likely the attending overseeing the case.

“What happened?” he calls out.

“Collapsed during a blood draw. Thought it was syncope until his tele started going off,” TK recites.

“Switch off with me.”

“I’m good, I can—”

“I said switch off, Strand. Let the actual doctors take over.”

TK shoots a glare over at Pearce at the same time Carlos looks up in shock. TK finishes his cycles before seamlessly switching with Pearce despite the shit he just pulled. Carlos quickly does his respirations and then keeps his eyes on TK as he leaves the room without a second glance.

Now Carlos knows why getting involved with someone from work is a bad idea. Despite how badly he’s needed here, part of Carlos wants to chase after TK. The other part of him wants to cut Pearce a new one. He does neither of those things. All of his focus remains on saving this man’s life. They compress and respirate and push epi and shock and push more epi until they’re all sweating and exhausted and have run out of options.

“I’m calling it,” Dr. Risher sighs in defeat.

“Time of death,” Carlos checks his watch as he lets the BVM fall to the ground, “7:41.”

The mood is solemn like it always is after a loss. Carlos doesn’t know this man. He doesn’t know if he has family that went to the cafeteria or are on their way here. He doesn’t know if he came in for a routine problem or if he knew it was something serious. He doesn’t even know his name until he looks at the whiteboard.

“Call the morgue,” Pearce mutters as he rips his gloves off and chucks them in the bin. “Cover him up and shut the door. Grace, find his family.”

Carlos counts his breaths. In and out, in and out. As everyone begins their post-mortem tasks, Carlos takes his own gloves off and rushes into the hallway after Pearce.

“Dr. Risher,” he calls out, drawing the attention of more than just the man in question.

Pearce raises a brow and glances around the area before paying attention to Carlos. “Is there a problem?”

Carlos tells himself to remain calm, to approach this professionally, but then he thinks of the look on TK’s face when he was dismissed. “TK is a medical professional. He has been working here for far longer than either of us have. He could be running this department. He knows how to do compressions and you need to trust that he knows how to for the best interest of our patients.”

Pearce’s eyes widen, like he’s up for a challenge. “Dr. Reyes, is it?” he asks as he cocks his head, and Carlos stands up straighter as he nods. “Don’t tell me how to run my department. You’re a resident, I’m an attending. Don’t forget there’s a hierarchy here.”

Carlos clenches his jaw. “We’re a team, and you are not a team player.”

“Dr. Reyes.”

Carlos spins around, finding Tommy approaching. He blanches.

“Dr. Vega, I was just—”

Carlos looks over his shoulder only to find Pearce throwing a smirk in his direction before walking away, likely to go home. Carlos instantly feels sick, a wave of nausea taking over as his palms grow clammy.

Tommy seems to notice and she gives him a gentle smile. “Relax, Carlos. You’re not in trouble.” Carlos finds that impossible to believe. He just reprimanded a superior because of his personal feelings. No; it’s more than that. Carlos wouldn’t tolerate a fellow physician speaking to any other staff like that regardless of who they are. “Nothing you said isn’t anything we haven’t been thinking, but keep it out of patient areas, yeah?”

Carlos finally feels like he can breathe again. “Right. I’m sorry,” he apologies.

“It’s okay, Carlos. He’s a good doctor, but his arrogance could use an adjustment,” Tommy says, and Carlos is afraid to say more, so all he does is nod. Now that this conversation is over, there’s really only one person he wants to talk to.

“Do you know where…” he trails off, deciding maybe he shouldn’t outright ask for TK. Tommy smiles at him anyway and nods her head towards the doors.

“Ambulance bay,” she tells him. “Bring him in for rounds, would you?”

He nods again and then is on his way. Just as Tommy said, TK is sitting on the concrete ledge with magenta flowers planted behind him. He’s staring out at the traffic going by, but the bay itself is quiet for the time being.

“Did he make it?” TK asks, and Carlos shoves his hands in his pockets and ducks his head.

“No. He didn’t, I’m sorry.”

TK nods solemnly and doesn’t say anything more. Carlos takes that as a cue to sit down beside him, close enough that it’s clear there’s history between them, but far enough apart to remember they’re at work.

“He’s wrong, you know.”

“I know he’s wrong,” TK immediately answers. “But I couldn’t exactly tell him that in there.”

“Yeah,” Carlos mumbles. They breathe together for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the city around them. “For the record, you did everything right.”

TK looks at him with a brow raised. “I know I did. He doesn’t make me doubt what I do.”

Carlos can’t help but smile. Some people might interpret that as cockiness, but Carlos only sees confidence. TK is exactly what Carlos defended. He’s good at his job and he knows what he’s doing, an idiot doubting him doesn’t change that. “Good.” He wishes they could stay out here for longer, but they have work to do. While they still have the privacy, Carlos reaches around TK’s back and squeezes his waist before he stands. “C’mon. We have rounds.”

“I heard you defended my honor,” TK says a few hours later, after he nearly smacks Carlos with a storage room door as he exits it.

Carlos blushes and tries to assess whether TK is mad. He didn’t want to tell him himself, but he should’ve known word would’ve made it back to him. Downsides of having a tight-knit team.

“I know you could do it yourself,” he insists, not wanting TK to think that Carlos sees him as a damsel in distress. Quite the opposite. One of the reasons Carlos is so attracted to him is his brilliance when he’s in action—his confidence, his competency, his collection. Carlos wants someone who can hold their own with him, someone who can challenge him. “But you weren’t there to do it. He shouldn’t think he can talk to you like that.”

TK studies him for a moment, and then shrugs like it’s whatever. “Nothing I haven’t heard before,” he mumbles, and then he fixes Carlos with a look and points a finger at his chest. “Don’t do it again.”

He cracks a small smile, but Carlos can tell he’s at least a little serious about it. “I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, and TK softens.

He steps in closer. “Don’t get yourself in trouble over me. He is not worth your career.”

Carlos hears what’s unsaid. I’m not worth your career. Carlos frowns, ready to question why TK thinks that about himself, but then they’re both called in opposite directions and that’s that.

***

TK is starting to wonder if their night together was a one-off.

It’s been almost a week since their shared day off that they spent in TK’s bed. They’ve seen each other at work since then, but without mention of the time they’ve spent together. Sure, they’ve been a little closer, physically and emotionally, but everything is indirect. A flirty smile from across the room. A compliment here and an offer to grab coffee there. But TK goes home while Carlos is still with a patient or vice versa and any hope TK has for them possibly going home together is squashed.

He doesn’t know where Carlos lives and he doesn’t have his phone number, so except for flat out asking Carlos to come to his place so they can fuck, TK is out of luck. Tonight, it was more of the same. He’s been off for a few hours already, but Carlos was mid-intubation when TK left the unit. His bed in the corner of his studio haunts him with memories of that night as he sits on the couch and watches a show he doesn’t care all that much about.

They had mentioned doing it again sometime, right? TK didn’t imagine that? It’s hard to keep all the moments from that day straight. Everything between sweeping tongues and bruising kissing is a daze. He’s pretty sure he shared insecurities about his relationship with his father, which is a buzzkill, but Carlos didn’t seem put off by it. He seemed like he wanted to listen, to know TK, and TK doesn’t know where to put all of his messy feelings or how to begin untangling them.

A knock at the door shortly after eight startles him. It’s like somehow he knows who it is without having to check. He’s not expecting anyone, not that he’s expecting Carlos either, but he’s the only one who may randomly show up. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on TK’s part. Still, as quickly as he can, TK tidies up the living room and scans the rest of the apartment for anything terribly embarrassing. When he decides that his sweatpants with the hole in the leg and the stain on the knee are, he whips them off and chucks them in the laundry bin.

“Just a sec!” he calls out as he finds a new pair of sweats. Ones that are at least semi-stylish but still make him appear casual and cool at home. When that’s done, he collects a breath and finally goes to the door.

It’ll have been really embarrassing to do all this when it very well could be his neighbor or his dad, but then TK sees Carlos’ nervous smile on the other side of the door and he feels vindicated.

“Hey.”

A smile slips onto TK’s face. “Hi.”

Carlos looks down the hall, as if someone from work will pop up and wonder what he’s doing here. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his olive jacket and he looks so nice in a pair of dark jeans and looser curls than he wears at work. “Sorry to just show up like this. I don’t have your number.”

“You don’t,” TK confirms. He leans against the door frame with one hip jutted out just so and looks up at Carlos through his lashes. “I should give it to you then.”

Slowly, Carlos relaxes, as if finally accepting that his presence here is welcome. “You should,” Carlos agrees, and TK bites his lip as he grins before standing upright.

“Come in,” he insists, stepping back and letting Carlos through.

Carlos glances around the studio before looking at TK again. “You busy?”

TK locks his hands behind his back, swaying ever so slightly. “Nope.”

Carlos looks at him like that’s the best thing he’s heard all day. “Good.”

Before TK can blink, Carlos is on him, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him hungrily, all while backing him into the nearest wall. TK moans helplessly as he’s ravished next to his front door. His sweats do nothing to hide his instant attraction, but the way Carlos kisses him does nothing to hide his either.

“God, I’ve been wanting you so badly you have no idea,” Carlos murmurs against his mouth.

TK lets out a breathy laugh. Ever since that afternoon, TK has been thinking about Carlos at night, in the shower, when Carlos scratches the back of his neck and his biceps bulges, when he gets fired up in a debate about the best course of treatment for a patient. He has the ability to get TK hot and bothered pretty much all the time and it was really getting to be a problem for him. He's more than glad Carlos is here right now, so he can get his fill again.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” TK responds, and Carlos grins like that’s the best thing he’s ever heard before they’re kissing again.

Carlos’ hands sneak under his shirt, shoving it halfway up his torso before it’s blocked by TK’s arms. “Can we get this off?” Carlos questions, and TK realizes that he has to move to do so. He willingly raises his arms above his head and Carlos pulls the shirt off, letting it float to the ground beside him.

Although Carlos can’t stop kissing him—his mouth, his neck, his collarbone—he explores TK’s torso with his hands instead of his eyes. TK shivers when his palms trail over his pecs and abdomen.

“Your turn,” TK practically begs. It’s absurd that he has yet to see Carlos with his shirt off. He needs to know what he’s hiding under those scrub tops.

Carlos chuckles against his mouth, letting his teeth scrape along TK’s bottom lip as he pulls away enough to shove his jacket off and then lift the bottom hem of the shirt. It goes up and away as TK’s gaze goes down, his jaw nearly dropping when he sees the perfectly sculpted man before him.

“Jesus Christ,” TK mutters as he steps forward, placing a hand right in the valley of Carlos’ pecs.

Carlos’ hand traps him there, and TK feels his beating heart. The silence that falls between them as TK trails his hand down is ripe with tension. He can feel Carlos’ gaze on him, but he only has eyes for the body in front of him for the moment. His fingertips feel every dip and groove—and there are a lot—all the way down to the waistband of his jeans. TK grins in excitement. This gorgeous man is here, with a semi for him, and TK feels like a million bucks. He’s going to enjoy the hell out of the fun they have together.

Curling his fingers into the waistband of Carlos’ jeans, TK gives him a mischievous grin before using his grip to pull Carlos forward. He smiles into their kiss and then presses back, letting their lips meet and meet again, their tongues brush and search.

And then Carlos’ mouth trails down and doesn’t stop. He goes lower, kissing TK’s pecs and nipples. Carlos’ hair is perfect to hold onto, and TK needs that anchor when he drops to his knees.

This must all be some hyper realistic fantasy, where the hot doctor he’s been crushing on shows up at his door and ravishes him.

“Oh,” TK exhales.

Carlos looks up at him, batting his long lashes as he holds TK’s hips. “Can I?”

“Fuck yes,” TK blurts out.

His hand drags to Carlos’ cheek as Carlos smiles, and TK brushes his thumb over Carlos’ bottom lip. A moment later, Carlos sucks the digit into his mouth for a preview of what’s to come and TK’s head clunks back against the drywall. Releasing TK’s thumb, Carlos works TK’s sweats down his hips. His cock springs free and TK watches Carlos’ reaction as he sees TK for the first time.

TK isn’t shy about his body. He’s confident in his looks and physique, but he’s never wanted to be found attractive more than he does right now. Luckily, no one has ever looked at him the way Carlos is right now.

“Should I grab a condom?”

He has one all the way on the other side of the room. He’ll grab it, if that’s what Carlos wants, but there’s something TK wants more. “I get tested regularly, but we can—”

Carlos shakes his head. “No, I trust you. Wanna taste you.”

“God,” TK moans, and then he experiences his first touch of Carlos. It’s his hand for now, lightly circling the base and giving him a slow stroke. With Carlos’ other hand, he reaches down and undoes his jeans, pressing the heel of his palm against himself for some relief. TK wants to die on the spot and his mouth waters in anticipation of later. He doesn’t know what he’s more excited for, Carlos sucking him off or getting to return the favor. “Just so you know, I’m returning the favor when you’re done.”

Carlos meets his eye with a flirty wink. “If you can function.”

“You talk a big talk,” TK teases, and then Carlos slides his lips down TK’s length and his whole body tenses. “Oh, fuck. Walk a big walk too,” he gasps as he slumps against the wall.

Carlos chases him, and soon the room is filled with the sloppy sounds of TK’s cock sliding in and out of Carlos’ lips. He works at the head and the shaft, licking and sucking and doing his damn best to suck out TK’s soul.

TK grips Carlos’ hair the whole time, finding that he moans when TK gives a little tug or tells him how good he is. He paints an obscene sight, brown eyes squeezed shut with lashes that fan over his cheeks, his pink lips stretched around TK’s spit-shiny cock. It’s almost too much, a sight TK will be visiting time and time again in his dreams.

“You’re so good,” TK praises, feeling like a broken record. “Can I come in your mouth? he blurts out, before he can consider that it’s too much.

Some guys don’t like it and that’s fine. Carlos can have his preferences just as much as TK can, but he wants that closeness right now. That intimacy. He wants to see Carlos at the nurse’s station tomorrow and know Carlos swallowed every last drop from him.

And then, like some sort of miracle, Carlos moans like he doesn’t want anything more. He pops off for a second, a string of spit connecting his mouth to TK’s cock before he licks his bottom lip and it’s gone. “You better,” Carlos murmurs, and it goes straight to TK’s dick.

“Shit, you’re amazing,” TK praises as Carlos’ mouth takes over again. “Knew you would be.”

Carlos hums and it sends brilliant vibrations around TK’s length. He’s already rocketing towards the end and then Carlos cups his balls, rolling them in his palm, and TK is done for, shooting ropes of come into Carlos’ warm mouth as he lets out a litany of curses and other unintelligible words. He’s never looking at this spot in his home the same again; there’ll forever be an imaginary imprint of his body on the wall here, where he got the best blowjob of his life.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck,” TK gasps. “Carlos.”

He doesn’t know if he’s pleading for more or if it’s too much. He doesn’t get time to decide though, because Carlos lets him go and kisses TK’s hip. He rises up, kissing his way up TK’s torso before curling his tongue into TK’s mouth in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. There’s a hint of salt from TK’s release and it only makes TK want Carlos more. He wants to taste Carlos, to feel the weight of his cock on his tongue.

Without breaking the kiss, TK pulls up his sweats and expertly navigates his studio. When they’re by the couch, he nudges Carlos to sit and then spreads his legs to kneel in front of him.

“No condom?” he checks as Carlos cups his cheek. It takes him a second to respond, looking hypnotized, but then he nods.

TK grins before getting at Carlos’ waistband. The zipper is already down, giving him a view of his dark gray boxer briefs that have an impressive tent and a wet spot already forming. TK’s mouth waters at the sight and he tells Carlos to lift his hips so he can slide the clothing down. When he gets his first glimpse at Carlos’ cock, TK’s watering mouth turns to carnal need. His cock is red and leaking at the tip with a visible vein along the shaft that TK wants to run his tongue along. So he does.

Carlos’ hips shoot off the couch in response and TK gets his hands on his hips, holding him in place. He takes Carlos farther down, relaxing his throat and breathing through.

“Oh my god!” Carlos gasps when TK deep throats him, and it takes everything in TK not to pull off so he can grin in victory.

Instead, he keeps Carlos pressed to the cushion of the couch and buries his nose in the coarse hair at the base of Carlos’ cock, feeling the weight on his tongue and holding him there until he needs air. Then, he slides up to the tip, lapping his tongue at the salty release there before bobbing down and working him over. His jaw begins to ache, but the sound of Carlos’ moans is more than enough for him to push through it. When he looks up, locking eyes with Carlos while his lips are stretched thin around his length, Carlos shouts a warning before he’s coming down TK’s throat.

He swallows as best as he can, but ultimately some dribbles out onto the corner of his mouth, making him feel as wrecked as Carlos looks. He finally lets Carlos go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before collapsing, entirely spent. His knees slide out from under him and his butt hits the floor as he leans to the side, letting his head rest on Carlos’ thigh. Carlos absentmindedly scratches at his scalp and plays with his hair as they catch their breath.

“Nope. Not a fluke.”

TK wrinkles his nose in confusion and looks up at Carlos. He’s talking too much nonsense for how many brain cells TK has left. “Huh?”

“Us,” he clarifies, and that simple word gives TK butterflies. “Not a fluke. That was just as good as the first time.”

TK hums, letting the thought warm him. “Better,” he clarifies, and Carlos smiles.

“Better.”

He should get off the floor. He should let Carlos put himself back together and then he should see where the night leads from there, but he doesn’t. He knows what he wants and it surprises him in a way that doesn’t surprise him at all.

“Do you want to sleep here again?”

Carlos looks at him like he was wanting the same, but didn’t know how to ask. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” TK answers easily. With that, he rises from the floor. “You hungry?”

Carlos doesn’t bother buttoning his jeans. Now that he knows he’s spending the night, he takes them off completely to sleep in his dark boxer briefs that hug his thighs. “No. Tired.”

TK would’ve made something for Carlos if he would’ve wanted, but he’s much happier to go straight to bed. “Me too. Come to bed?”

It’s way too domestic, and yet TK falls a little bit in love with the way Carlos helps him turn off lights and the TV. TK grabs a glass of water while Carlos returns to the side of the bed he slept on before. After TK downs his drink, he refills it and takes it to Carlos, who drinks greedily.

“Thank you.”

TK smiles in response before joining Carlos under the sheets. As soon as he settles, Carlos asks, “So? About that phone number?”

TK laughs and holds out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

Carlos’ eyes trail across the apartment. “It’s in my pocket somewhere by the door. Give me yours.”

“By the couch,” TK reluctantly informs. Carlos’ lips slide into a frown and he starts to shove the sheet away, but TK lays a hand to his chest and gently forces him back down. “I’ll get mine.”

He can feel his eyes on him as he treks across the dark studio he knows by heart. He wonders what Carlos’ place is like. If it’s small like his or has actual walls. If it’s in a nearby neighborhood or a different borough. He hopes to know soon.

After TK hands the phone over and Carlos enters his number, he passes it back. “There.”

TK holds up the phone. “Is this strictly for booty call use? Or can I text you because my bagel shop is out of my favorite flavor and I’m annoyed?”

Carlos cracks a smile. “Depends. Are you picking up a bagel for me too?”

TK purses his lips, pretending to think it over. “Depends on what kind you like.”

“Savory,” Carlos answers automatically. “Although I’m sure you’ll say I haven’t had a real New York bagel yet?”

“I’m sure you have not,” he agrees with an air of superiority. Carlos’ choice is still good though. He pegs Carlos for a savory guy. He drinks black coffee and his snacks at work consist of an apple or Greek yogurt, not like the sweet granola bars TK downs when he has the chance. “Savory is good. I have a sweet tooth.”

Carlos regards him differently at the shared information, like everything new he learns is a gift. “You do?”

“Mh hm.”

“I like learning things about you,” Carlos murmurs. “You can use my number any time. If you’re minorly inconvenienced by bagel shops, if you want me to do that thing with my mouth again, or if you just want someone to talk to.”

TK smiles at how sweet Carlos is. He’s nice at work, helpful and considerate, but he’s not sweet like he is now. He’s making TK feel like the most interesting person in the world as he makes slow sweeps of his thumb where his hand rests on TK’s thigh. He’s soft and a little mushy and caring in a way that makes TK feel like he’s getting pieces of Carlos that the rest of the world doesn’t get to see. He feels special.

“You might regret that,” he jokes, when he’s in danger of turning too sappy instead.

Carlos chuckles. “I doubt it.”

“You can use mine too,” TK tells him, just so they’re clear.

“I don’t have it,” Carlos responds cheekily, and TK giggles.

He unlocks his phone, finding the screen with Carlos’ newly added contact pulled up. He didn’t name it anything other than ‘Carlos’, not that TK expected him to. He’s seen Carlos’ own phone, and the lock screen is a generic one that came with the device. Regardless, TK opens a text thread and types out ‘asiago or everything?’. Carlos will get back to him eventually, probably tomorrow, and TK will store that knowledge away for future use.

“Now you do.”

Carlos smiles at him and then cups TK’s cheek, drawing him in for a slow kiss. They fall back to the pillows, trying a few more soft brushes of lips before remaining curled together in the center of the bed.

“Will you have to stop home before work tomorrow?” TK asks him as he runs his hand up and down Carlos’ waist.

“I have an extra pair of scrubs in my locker.”

TK hums. “Good. That means we can sleep in.”

Except Carlos doesn’t appear as delighted by this as TK. “Sleep in? What time do you set your alarm for?”

“Six,” TK states, though it comes out more like a question. Carlos’ eyes grow wide like TK just told him he sleeps in his scrubs to save time.

“Six? TK, we have to be there by seven.”

TK doesn’t know what he’s all frazzled about, but he looks like he just had two GSWs walk into the ER fifteen minutes before the end of shift. “Yeah?”

“It has to take at least 45 to get there from here.”

“Again, yeah?”

“You get ready in fifteen minutes?” Carlos balks, and TK lets out a small chuckle.

“You need more than that?”

Carlos wrinkles his nose and looks like it physically pains him to think about having fifteen minutes to get ready for work. “I don’t like to feel rushed.”

“I like to sleep,” TK argues, and Carlos grows even more wary. He starts to drift back.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be spending the night.”

“Woah, woah,” TK protests, even though he knows Carlos is kidding. He thinks. Still, the sight of him pulling away has TK willing to do drastic things to get him to stay. Like setting an earlier alarm. “What time should I set my alarm for?”

Carlos drops the game, looking a little uncomfortable like he didn’t mean to take it so far that TK is changing his routine. “TK, you don’t have to get up with—”

TK wants to lovingly roll his eyes, but he refrains. “What time, Carlos?”

Carlos fights a smile and mumbles, “Five thirty.”

TK isn’t sure that’s the time he normally sets it for. He feels like Carlos just made a compromise.

“Fifty thirty,” TK repeats begrudgingly, and sets the alarm before putting his phone on the nightstand, out of sight for the rest of the night. He rolls over towards Carlos and the large windows again, and taps a finger into his firm chest. “But you make me coffee.”

“You’re such an excellent host,” Carlos teases, and TK raises a brow.

“You know where the door is.”

“Please,” Carlos scoffs, like he knows TK wants him here just as much as he wants to be here. “I’m staying right here.”

TK relaxes, curling up to Carlos’ side. A strong arm secures around his shoulders, making him feel at peace, a feeling that’s only amplified when lips press to his forehead. He rubs up and down Carlos’ torso before letting his hand slip under his shirt and coming to a stop. “Good. I like you right here.”

Chapter Text

“What’s wrong?” TK asks Carlos as he comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Carlos is momentarily distracted by the sight of TK’s still damp chest, but they don’t have time for anything. They have to leave for the hospital soon.

“Oh.” Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing. Just missed a message last night.”

It’s a text from his mom, asking if he was free for a chat. They haven’t had a ‘chat’ in so long that Carlos immediately wonders if there’s something important she has to tell him, or if she truly just wanted to catch up. Carlos doesn’t know which one makes him more nervous, but he’ll have to live in the mystery until after his shift.

“Anything urgent?” TK questions, and Carlos collects himself.

“No.” He gives TK a smile. “All good.”

TK smiles back and then wanders over to his closet to pull out a pair of navy scrubs. Instead of watching him change and tempting them to be late for work, Carlos checks up on the rest of the notifications he missed when he was away from his phone. He’s already ready to go, having let TK snooze the alarm while he got up to shower. It felt weird to put on yesterday’s clothes after getting clean, but he wasn’t wearing them for that long before they were on TK’s floor.

He finally sees the text from TK and it causes him to smile. He reminds himself to respond later, when he wants TK to think of him, but he saves the contact now.

“Ready?” TK asks once he’s changed. He pulls on a gray hoodie over his scrubs to fight the morning chill and Carlos has no choice but to wrap an arm around his waist. TK hums happily as Carlos pulls him in for a kiss. “What was that for?”

Carlos pecks him once more. “Last time I can do that for a while,” Carlos tells him. It’s not the first time they’ve had to work together after knowing what the other tastes like, but the second time almost seems harder. The more he has of TK, the more he wants.

TK smiles sweetly at him. “Remember. I know all the good supply closets.”

Carlos shakes his head with a small laugh. “Nice try, but I will not make out with you in a supply closet,” he says as gently as he can while still staying serious. Carlos has rules in his mind. He broke one by sleeping with TK, but then he amended it. It—this, them—is fine as long as they are focused at work, as long as it doesn’t affect patients. Sneaking off to make out definitely crosses that line.

TK understands this. Carlos can tell he does by the way he drops it and nods with a serious look. Their conversation suddenly seems bigger than what it is on the surface, like they’re agreeing they’re something, even if they don’t know what yet. TK is serious about his work, though. He may goof off with Nancy at times and get sucked into a conversation with Mateo, but he never neglects his duties and he never puts patients at risk. Somehow Carlos knows he’ll be the same with them. He wouldn’t have started something with TK if he didn’t think that. More than that, the TK he’s been crushing on from the start wouldn’t be the same person if he did do something selfish like that. Carlos likes his dedication and his drive; he likes that they have that in common.

They take the subway this morning. While they sit side by side, pressed between people in suits and those in last night’s clothes, Carlos asks TK about his normal commute. He learns that TK typically listens to music or podcasts on his way, and in turn, Carlos explains he likes to read or listen to audiobooks. They don’t do any of that today, instead choosing to learn about the other’s routines and habits.

When they get off, they walk side by side the two blocks it takes to get to the hospital. Carlos finds he likes the company. He likes the routine of waking up with someone and commuting to work together more than he thought he would. He’s a creature of habit and normally, his habits center around independence. TK makes him question every way of life he thought he liked.

“Okay,” TK says when they’re almost there. “Do you want me to go in the main entrance?”

Carlos wishes he could say no, but he can’t get himself to, and he’s grateful for TK for suggesting it. “I’m sorry.”

TK’s expression softens. “Don’t be. I’ll see you inside,” he says before he turns the corner.

Thankfully Carlos brought his work bag to TK’s last night, able to buzz himself in with his badge. When he gets there, he heads straight for his extra scrubs in the locker room. No one looks twice at him when he shows up in street clothes. It’s not totally uncommon for people to change when they’re here, to Carlos’ advantage. When he’s done getting changed, he has one more thing he needs to do before he can start his work day.

He scans his badge and slips inside the supply room. Among the countless bins on the walls, he’s able to locate the travel-sized toothpastes. He slides one into his pocket and then grabs a toothbrush too before he’s out the door and heading to the staff bathroom. With a fresh mouth, he finally joins rounds. He nearly blushes when he meets TK’s eyes across the circle, and he has to force his gaze away from the man while he listens to Grace give the report.

The department is busy this morning, like it is nearly all the time, and it keeps Carlos from thinking about last night. It’s probably a good thing. His mind can’t wander if it has no time to. He spends the next several hours suturing lacerations, placing chest tubes, performing I&Ds, and reducing fractures.

Right before he’s about to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria, two seventeen-year-olds in a MVA are wheeled in and Carlos is back on his feet. He’s instantly on high-alert, preparing for hemorrhaging and multiple fractures, possibly a SCI or a TBI, but he sees the first one talking as the paramedics wheel him in and Carlos relaxes a fraction.

He doesn’t confirm there’s nothing life threatening for about another half an hour. Both patients are his—one with whiplash, a minor concussion, and a left wrist fracture and the other with some contusions and a nasal fracture from the airbag. He sets the nose and splints the wrist before the nurses take over most of the other duties, but when two parents rush through the doors, Carlos is tagged back in.

“Where is he? Where’s my boy?” the woman asks, already tearful. The man beside her has a stern expression with a hand resting on her shoulder.

“Can you tell me your son’s name?” Carlos asks them. He doesn’t know which boy they belong to.

“Jake. Jake Lochlan,” she chokes out, and Carlos nods.

“He’s alright. Let me take you to him.”

The clack of the woman’s heels follows Carlos as he leads them to the room, and she likely got pulled from her work day by a phone call from the hospital with a message that her son was in a car accident. Carlos can’t blame her for being frazzled, even if he knows himself that Jake is doing well.

“Jakey,” she cries out as she rushes into the open door Carlos gestures to. The father nods at him in thanks before following after her.

Carlos hangs back for a moment while the family reunites, but he doesn’t go far so he can update them on the boy’s status.

“What happened?” the mom asks.

“It’s not that big a deal,” the boy insists in typical teenage fashion. “I got hit in an intersection, but I wasn’t going fast. Thank god for traffic,” he jokes.

“Where were you even going?” the father questions. “Why’d you take the car?”

“I told you I was going to a friend’s place.”

“Yeah, I thought you meant you were walking over to Andy’s for the afternoon.”

“No. It was a pool party with some people from school.”

“Where?”

“East Hamptons,” Jake mutters.

“You were driving out to the Hamptons?” the mother exclaims, raising a hand to her forehead like she feels faint. “Who do you even know that lives in the Hamptons?”

“Just some people from school,” Jake insists again.

“Okay, okay.” The dad reels in the conversation. “We can talk about the rest later. You’re okay? He’s okay?”

Carlos realizes that’s his cue to step in and he comes closer to the foot of the bed, running through the injuries and the course of treatment. Jake should be good to get out of here this afternoon, and his parents look relieved at that.

“Was anyone else hurt?” the dad asks.

“No,” Jake blurts out. “I was alone.”

Carlos goes still, observing the scene in front of him. Jake looks panicked briefly, but his parents are none the wiser. They nod along all while Jake doesn’t look directly at them while he lies. Alarms go off in Carlos’ head. He thought this case was cut and dry, but perhaps not. He’s already wondering if he needs to call the unit social worker down here. He didn’t pick up anything concerning from his other patient, but the idea of mentioning the passenger made Jake skittish and scared. He can’t discharge this patient without making sure he’s safe, and it doesn’t seem like he’ll talk about anything with his parents in the room.

“Mom, Dad,” Carlos addresses the parents. “I’m going to check to make sure his abdominal bruises haven’t grown,” he says, and they nod along like that’s a great idea, but they don’t budge.

Thankfully, Jake gets them moving. “Can you… wait in the hall or something?”

His mom looks hurt. “You don’t want us to stay?”

“I’m going to have to remove the gown for a moment,” Carlos explains, and Jake gives them a pleading look like he’d prefer not to be undressed in front of his parents.

They seem to understand, because they bend over to kiss him on the head before stepping out into the hall. Carlos actually does want to check on the smattering of bruises against his ribs, to ensure they’re surface level, and as he raises the gown on the left side, he says, “Was the passenger with you a friend? Did he tell you about the party?”

“Oh my god, no,” Jake groans, as if he can read Carlos’ mind. “No, it’s nothing like that. He’s not like a creep or anything.”

Carlos relaxes a bit, but still. Something’s off. “Okay. There’s nothing you want to talk about with your parents out of the room?”

“I want to know if he’s okay,” Jake mumbles, and Carlos’ brow furrows as he tries to understand this boy.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about another patient. If your parents knew you weren’t alone, maybe they could check on Will for you.”

“No, they can’t,” he says urgently, and Carlos frowns as he sets the gown back in place. The bruises haven’t grown.

“Oh. Okay.”

Jake brings his hand to his mouth and chews on his nails. “They don’t know,” he says after a moment, and Carlos tilts his head in confusion.

“What?”

“My parents.” He looks Carlos in the eye. “Will is my boyfriend, they don’t know that I’m… and they can’t find out I was with him. Please.”

Carlos softens, gaining a whole new level of sympathy and understanding of Jake in this moment. “Okay, okay,” he says gently.

“They would freak out.”

Carlos grabs a nearby stool, sinking down to it and sitting next to Jake’s bed. “You don’t have to tell them. Not until you’re ready.”

“But I need to see Will. I need to know if he’s okay.”

Carlos grows quiet, trying to think of a solution. He wants to help. More than anything, he wants this boy to feel safe and protected, but he also wants those two to have a moment to talk, so they don’t risk getting out of their beds to sneak together later.

“I’ll tell you what,” Carlos says to him once he has it figured out. “I’ll bring your parents to a family room, give them an update on your condition in private. While we’re there, our EMT TK can take you to the bathroom down the hall.”

Jake frowns in confusion. “I don’t have to go to the bathroom.”

Carlos shrugs and smiles. “Maybe TK gets lost on the way. Ends up in the wrong room.”

Understanding washes through Jake and he nods eagerly. “Thank you, Dr. Reyes.”

Before Carlos can tell himself that this is unprofessional, that he shouldn’t divulge his personal information, he’s opening his mouth. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know what it’s like to not have your parents know you, and I know how brave it was for you to tell me what you just did.” Jake begins to look at him in awe, as if seeing Carlos as an older brother and someone who’s like him. “I’ll find TK, let him know what’s up. But make it fast. I can only stall for so long.”

That gets Jake laughing. “You got it.”

When Carlos steps out of the room, the mom is on him. “Can we go back in?”

Carlos glances across the unit, finding TK typing on a computer. “Actually, a tech is going to take him to the bathroom and I wanted to explain the upcoming procedures we’re going to do in more detail.”

“Oh.” She glances past the door, though the curtain is still drawn so she can’t see anything. “Okay. Is everything alright?”

Carlos nods. “Yup. Standard tests we do on anyone involved in a trauma to make sure there aren’t any underlying issues.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” the dad jumps in.

“There’s a family room at the end of the hall,” Carlos points in the direction. “Give me a minute and I’ll join you.”

They nod and wrap their arms around each other as they walk away. Carlos turns and heads towards TK.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

TK looks up and smiles. “Course. What’s up?”

“Are you able to take a patient to the bathroom for me?”

TK is already on his feet. “Yeah,” he says with a small laugh, like the request is so simple. It would be if it were true. “That’s it?”

“Well,” Carlos says quietly. “Not exactly.”

Twenty minutes later, Jake is back in his bed, smiling to himself and fiddling with his cast as his parents fuss over him. Carlos sees him from his seat at the nurse’s station, and then sees Will sitting quietly in his own room. His parents haven’t come in yet, and Carlos wishes he could let the two boys keep each other company in the meantime.

They can provide all the treatment in the world, but having a patient know someone they care about is safe and healing does wonders too. Carlos is glad to have been able to provide some of that for these two boys. He never had a boyfriend as a teenager, but he still sees a lot of himself in Jake.

TK has returned to the desk he was at earlier, likely finishing up his charting. He shot Carlos a smile when he walked out of the room after getting Jake back in the bed, but he didn’t come over to chat. Carlos wants him over here though. Just for a minute.

Carlos pulls his phone out of his pocket, opening up his text thread with TK. It can hardly be called a thread, it consists of only one message, but Carlos is about to change that.

Asiago, he responds.

He looks to TK then, watching as he checks his watch upon receiving the notification. He taps it once and then a goofy grin takes over his face. It takes him a second to find Carlos once he’s looking around, but when he does, he rises.

Carlos doesn’t spin around in his chair to face him, but he looks up and gives TK a small smile when he leans his hip against the counter next to Carlos.

“Thank you for doing that,” Carlos tells him, ignoring their private conversation about bagels.

“They’re good kids,” TK tells him.

“Seems like it,” Carlos agrees.

TK studies him for a moment before saying, “You know, not everyone would’ve gone out of their way to do that, especially with how busy we are. That was cool of you.” He says it with clear admiration in his voice and the praise means a lot coming from TK. “You’re a good doctor, Carlos. I wish more were like you.”

Carlos wants to reach out and take his hand. He’s learned a lot from those who have taught him, but he also wants to carve his own path. He wants to listen to his patients, to spend time with them and know what they need. He wants to be compassionate and considerate, to do more for them than just medicine. He doesn’t always feel like he’s achieving that goal, but today he does.

“Dr. Reyes,” Tommy calls out as she jogs by. “Need you for an IABP insertion.”

“Go,” TK tells him, and Carlos brushes his hand along TK’s waist as he rushes past.

“Thank you,” he murmurs before he’s gone.

***

Out of everyone he works with, TK’s home is the only one he’s been to. Until tonight, that is.

Apparently Catan nights are a big thing with them, and though Carlos is unfamiliar with the game, he’s been invited to join them tonight. When Marjan asked him at the end of the shift a few days ago, he was a little uncertain about the invitation because this is clearly a long standing tradition that he doesn’t want to encroach on, but then TK smiled and nodded at him from behind her back and Carlos accepted.

He doesn’t show up with TK tonight despite how much he wants to, but TK is there by the time he arrives and it makes Carlos instantly more uncomfortable when he’s otherwise not in unfamiliar environments.

“Hey! Come in,” Marjan greets at the door.

He’s never really seen here out of scrubs much, but she’s in a colorful tracksuit and as Carlos enters her apartment, he finds the place is just as eclectic and fun as her clothes.

“Hey. Thanks for having me.”

“We’re excited you’re here, dude,” Nancy says from the living room. The other four—Mateo, Paul, TK, and Nancy—are already here. “Now we finally have even teams.”

As Carlos takes a seat on the green sofa—at an open spot next to TK—he jokes, “In that case, I’m apologizing in advance to whoever’s on my team.”

He gets a few confused looks to which Marjan explains, “He’s never played.”

“Ah,” Paul comments. “We’ll teach you.”

“I’ll take the newbie,” TK volunteers as he bumps their knees together. “Maybe that way you guys can beat me.”

Nancy barks out a laugh. “More like you lose anyway so it can’t hurt.”

“Hey!” TK calls out, throwing a piece of popcorn at her.

“Hey, there will be no food fights in my apartment,” Marjan warns, and Mateo bends down to pick up the popcorn, tossing it into his mouth.

“Children!” Paul calls out. “Are we explaining the game or not?”

“Yes, but wait! Let’s order food first,” Nancy decides to a chorus of agreements.

Marjan pulls a few takeout menus out of a drawer in her kitchen. Carlos listens quietly as a bunch of takeout spots he’s never heard of are thrown around the group and when they’ve narrowed it down to two, he’s expected to add his input.

“Carlos? Golden Unicorn or Up Thai?”

Carlos blinks and offers a wry smile. “Uh, I don’t know, I’ve never had either.”

“How have you never had Golden Unicorn?” Nancy grills and Carlos laughs awkwardly.

“I’ve only been here for a couple of months,” he defends. “I haven’t even gone to Times Square or the Rockefeller Center.”

“What? How have you never done any of this stuff?” TK asks him and Carlos turns towards him. TK’s expression is one of defeat, like he’s failed Carlos by only hanging out with him in either of their apartments. Carlos isn’t really complaining. Their activities aren’t exactly appropriate for the Rockefeller Center.

“Residents aren’t exactly known for having a good work-life balance,” he reminds them.

“True,” Paul says. “I still haven’t seen the Statue of Liberty.”

“I’ve done literally nothing touristy. It feels like every minute I’m not at the hospital I should catch up on sleep,” Marjan adds.

Paul and Carlos murmur in agreement, but Nancy is not having it. She stands. “That’s it. We’re going out.”

TK glances at the board game in front of them. “What about Catan?”

“Screw Catan!” she decides, to a chorus of gasps.

“And what about our food?” Mateo adds as he shovels in another handful of popcorn.

“No, we are going to Chinatown, and then we are taking these outsiders to get cultured. I’m talking tour of the city, baby.”

TK snorts a laugh. “You’re from Texas. I’m the only one here that’s not an outsider.”

Nancy grows visibly offended. “I’ve been here for years.”

TK waves off her argument and addresses the rest of the group. “She’s right though,” he declares. “We’re going out!”

It’s hard for Carlos to be anything but excited about the idea when he sees TK’s animated smile. He’s already conspiring with Nancy about all the things they should do, or at least what they can fit in tonight.

“I guess we’re going out,” Paul says, though it comes out more like a question.

“I guess so,” Carlos agrees, and then TK is beaming at him. He wants to lean forward and kiss that smile, but there’s too many people around and too many unspoken conversations about what’s happening between them.

Carlos will pretend like TK is merely his friend like the rest of them, despite how badly he wants to hold TK’s hand when they begin their adventure. When they fall to the back of their pack on the sidewalk, Carlos does feel brave enough to brush their fingers together and TK steps closer, letting their bare arms touch as they walk side by side. Despite the warm summer air around them, Carlos feels a shiver run up his body.

They get seated next to one another in the booth once they finally reach their dim sum spot, less by chance and more by TK’s doing. He slides in the booth after Carlos and lets their thighs press together, and Carlos has to force himself to focus on Mateo telling him the best things to order instead of TK’s hand that has landed above his knee.

Once their bellies are full of dumplings and spring rolls, Nancy, Mateo, and TK all debate on where they should go next. The sun is getting lower in the sky by the time they’re done, painting the city in the golden glow. They decide to head down to Battery Park to let Paul get his view of the Statue of Liberty, and then Nancy makes them all pose for touristy photos to send to their parents. Carlos swipes between the one of him and the one of him with the rest of the group, debating between the two for nearly half the subway ride up the west side. In the end, he bites the bullet and sends the one of just himself to his mom. He doesn’t want her to think he’s all alone here, but he’s worried about the way TK’s arm is thrown over his shoulder in the other picture. Personally, Carlos loves it. It’s their first picture together. Their sides are glued together and they look like a couple, which is why Carlos can’t send that one.

He lets himself forget about it as they browse shops at the Chelsea Market. He splits an order of nopal tacos with Paul and helps Marjan decide on a new scarf. TK points out the bagel stand and Carlos mouths ‘breakfast’ at him. When TK gives him a secret smile, Carlos knows he won’t be going home alone tonight. They walk the High Line up to the Vessel once they’ve made their way around the market, where once again pictures are taken at various points on their journey.

By this point in the night, Carlos’ feet are beginning to ache like they do at the end of a long shift. Still, they’re not done yet. Paul wants to see the architecture of Grand Central Station and TK wants to take them through Strand Bookstore, of course, and since they’re making their rounds, they feel obligated to walk through Times Square when the lights nearly blind them in the night sky.

By the time Carlos is walking through his front door, with TK behind him, he’s exhausted, but buzzing from left over energy. He thinks it’s the best night he’s had in the city so far and when TK kisses him and backs him up to his bed, he knows it is.

Chapter Text

TK hears the familiar—unrelenting, annoying—beeping of an IV as soon as he steps out of his patient’s room, and he follows the sound to room fourteen.

“Looks like you’re all done here,” he tells the woman when he sees the message on the screen telling him that the medication has all been administered.

“Does that mean you can get this thing out of my arm?” she asks sweetly, and TK gives her an apologetic smile.

“Afraid not,” he informs her. “But I can get this thing to shut up.”

Lilith smiles. “Alright, deal.”

While he’s in here, TK gives the room a once over, searching to see if there’s anything else that needs attention. She fell and fractured her hip this morning, and she’ll need to go to the OR. They’re not ready for her yet, but there isn’t even a bed on the floor open for her to transfer to later. So here she sits, waiting in pain though overall pleasant about it.

“How’s the pain?” TK asks her.

“Oh, not so bad.”

TK gives her a second to change her mind. “You sure? You might be due for something soon.”

She wrinkles her nose and waves him off. “I don’t like that stuff. I gotta stay sharp.”

She taps her forehead and TK laughs. “Well, we don’t want it getting too bad. You let us know.”

“Oh alright,” she relents, and then both of their attentions are pulled to the hall when a few people rush by. The commotion is nothing new to TK, but Lilith chuckles. “They sure keep you busy here.”

“I have so much energy,” TK assures her. “You should’ve seen me as a toddler.”

She smiles at him and pats his hand. “Well, I sure do appreciate you.”

“It’s my pleasure. Anything I can grab you while I’m here?”

“You go help your patients that actually need it,” she tells him, and TK chooses not to point out that she’s certainly one of those people. “I think I might take a nap.”

The ER beds are hardly comfortable for that, and TK hopes she won’t have to be here overnight. “Hopefully we can get you into a real bed soon.”

TK exits the room a moment later and he drops onto a chair at the center station, not realizing Carlos is sitting just down the counter until he asks, “How’s your day going?”

TK looks up, finding Carlos twirling his pen between his fingers. His glasses are perched on his nose and his long sleeve undershirt is rolled up at the forearms, giving a tease of skin. He’s such a wonderful thing to look at in the middle of the day. “I think this is the first time I’ve sat down since this morning.”

Carlos huffs, raising an amused brow. “That good, huh?”

TK hums. “How’s yours?”

“Not too bad.” Carlos taps his pen against the desk and shrugs. “Got yelled at for speaking too quietly, and then got yelled at for speaking too loudly.”

TK laughs, shaking his head. “How dare you.”

“I know.” Carlos looks around the area before rolling his chair a little closer, lowering his voice a little more. “You busy tonight?”

TK bites his lip to keep from smiling. “No, but fair warning that I’m not up for much more than eating and relaxing.”

He hopes Carlos knows he means relaxing as in being on Carlos’ couch or bed, watching a movie or getting each other off. He’s open to either, both, it’s just that he wants to be in one of their apartments, not off doing something. Not that they really do that. They don’t go on dates, they just hang out at each other's places in various stages of undress. There’s usually an orgasm involved at some point, except for that one night they just slept, and TK isn’t exactly sure what they’re doing. It’s not a relationship. That much he’s sure about.

“Come over. I’ll make you dinner and then we’ll…”

“We’ll…” TK eggs him on and Carlos smirks.

“See where the night takes us.”

Sounds absolutely perfect to TK. He can’t even be bothered that they’re meeting up once every few days. Normally he’d be trying to create space by this point, but all he wants is more and more of Carlos. “Meet you out front when we’re done?”

“Yeah,” Carlos agrees, and then they both hear Carlos’ pager go off. “You better go.”

He’s gone a second later and TK charts a little before making a round on his patients. He gets more water and checks vitals, then he collects a urine sample and gives an update to a family in the waiting room. Finally, TK makes his way back to Lilith.

“Just wanna grab a set of vitals on you,” he tells her. She doesn’t answer and TK glances over at her. “Lilith?” he prompts.

She turns to him, opening her mouth to speak but struggling like she can’t get the words out. It’s then that TK sees the droop of her right eyelid and that adrenaline-filled rush of an emergency taking place before his eyes starts to take over.

“Lilith, can you smile for me?” he asks, trying to keep his voice calm. She does as asked, and TK notices the one side doesn’t raise as much as the other. “Raise your arms.”

When that produces the same result, TK rushes across the room to hit the ‘code stroke’ button on the wall. A flurry of activity follows—Mateo running in, followed by Tommy and Carlos. TK watches from the sidelines as they work—doing neuro checks, assessing vitals, paging neurology, and calling ahead to imaging. TK stands like a wallflower. There’s nothing for him to do, but Lilith is looking panicked and scared and TK doesn’t feel right about leaving her.

“How long?”

TK snaps his gaze away from the woman to find Carlos staring at him. “Uh…” he thinks back. He was in here to fix the IV around 14:00 and it’s 14:48 now. “Within the hour.”

Carlos nods and then turns to Tommy. “Good, get her to imaging stat. We still have some time.”

TK drifts out of the room after that, hoping maybe they’ll catch it fast enough to administer some necessary meds. If not, her road to recovery just got a whole lot more complicated.

He’s still thinking about it hours later as he stands in Carlos’ kitchen, dicing up an onion.

He thinks about when he was fixing her IV, if he would’ve noticed something in her face had he spent more time looking directly at her. If a blood thinner she normally takes was held because she was going in for surgery, and that caused a clot. If there was anything they could’ve done differently to give her a better prognosis. Who knows how long it’ll be before she’s back home again, if she ever goes. Perhaps this is the beginning of the end, a broken hip turned into a stroke that leads to lengthy hospital stays and rehab and getting weaker and weaker and never having her independence again until she meets her untimely end in long-term care a year from now.

“TK?”

TK inhales sharply and looks over his shoulder at Carlos. His hair is still damp from the shower they shared when they got here. Now, TK is in a pair of his own shorts that he left here last time he slept over and one of Carlos’ hoodies as they prepare a batch of soup. “Sorry, what?”

Carlos studies him for a moment, likely able to tell that his head isn’t totally here. “I said you can add that to the pot when you’re done.”

TK looks down at his half-chopped onion. Apparently he stopped cutting when he zoned out, which is probably for the best. “Oh. Okay.”

TK turns his body around, squared up to his cutting board again, but he feels Carlos step up behind him. Then, a hand lands on his hip. “Something bothering you?”

“No,” TK mumbles as he starts chopping again.

He doesn’t want to get into it right now. They’re having a nice time. Carlos put on some music and there’s the scent of Italian sausage browning in the pan and TK doesn’t want to spend all of their time together thinking and talking about work. He starts dicing again, trying to make up for lost time so the onion can still get added when it’s supposed to.

“You’re a little spacey,” Carlos teases lightly, and TK frowns. He’s not meaning to be. He just can’t help it.

He looks over to Carlos, those big brown eyes filled with such concern. “Sorry, I—”

A sharp sting erupts on his thumb and TK hisses, the knife clattering to the cutting board. He looks down just in time to see deep red blood bubble to the surface and then Carlos is there with a towel, covering it and putting on pressure.

“Come on,” he urges. “Bathroom.”

They do an awkward walk together as Carlos holds two hands over TK’s one, and TK can’t pay attention to much more than the throbbing he feels.

“Shit,” he curses, as Carlos deposits him onto the closed toilet seat.

“How deep?” Carlos asks as he drops to his knees and rifles through his cabinet. TK has seen him in countless emergencies, but right now he seems more frazzled over a small cut than he would for a guy who comes in with a knife in his abdomen.

“I dunno,” TK mumbles. The thin dishcloth is already starting to soak through. “Check.”

“I will.” Carlos is crouching in front of TK now. “But give me an idea here. It’s still attached, right?”

TK wants to roll his eyes until he realizes Carlos is serious. You can take the doctor out of the ER… “Yes, Carlos.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, mostly to himself. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Your stuff is going to burn.”

Carlos frowns, looking torn for a moment. He glances toward the kitchen and then meets TK’s eyes. “Keep pressure on that,” he instructs as he rises.

“Yes, Dr. Reyes. I have treated an injury or two.”

Carlos ignores him, already halfway to the kitchen. TK sits hunched over, and he peeks under the towel to see how bad it is. The blood keeps coming out before he can look at the cut. Fuck. TK really hopes they’re not going to have to take a trip to the hospital tonight.

“Let me see it,” Carlos tells him. He grabs a clean gauze and pulls away the towel, wiping away the remaining blood with the sterile dressing. TK watches Carlos’ face instead of his thumb—his expressions give a better indication of how bad it is. Right now, his frown is deep. “You might need stitches.”

TK groans. “Seriously?”

“We can go in, or… I have a suture kit here if you want me to fix you up.”

TK would surge forward and kiss him if he could right now. “Oh, please do it here,” he begs. He’s surprised Carlos is even offering, but TK supposes he can pretty much do everything here that would be done at the hospital. This saves him a trip and a bill.

“You sure?“ Carlos checks.

“I trust you. I would love to not have our night ruined.”

“It wouldn’t be ruined,” Carlos insists as he digs under the cabinet again.

TK isn’t surprised he has suturing supplies. He was probably one of those kids who asked for a practice kit in high school and spent Christmas morning trying different kinds of sutures on fake skin.

“Let’s go to the table,” Carlos decides once he has his supplies and washes his hands, and TK dutifully follows him out of the bathroom.

He deposits TK into a chair and then flips on the overhead light before taking a seat around the corner from him, at the head of the table. He lays a clean cloth out on the table and motions for TK to put his hand up on it.

“You’ve really got a whole set up here,” TK teases lightly, but Carlos is intently focused.

He peels the dressing away from TK’s thumb, wiping away all the excess blood that has stuck to his skin and keeping pressure only directly over the wound. TK likes watching Carlos work, so focused and caring as he applies a topical lidocaine and then threads the needle.

“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” Carlos asks, pausing long enough to look at him. TK pretends to be offended and Carlos chuckles. “Hey, some people can dish out the heat but they can’t take it.”

“Oh, I can take it,” TK promises, smirking at Carlos, and Carlos gives him a look.

“No flirting when I’m about to stick a needle into your skin.”

“Yes, Doctor,” TK purrs, and Carlos shakes his head sharply.

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

TK laughs loudly and then Carlos locks his ankles around one of TK’s. “Okay, hold still. No laughing.”

TK’s smile lingers as Carlos begins to place the stitches along the pad of his thumb. “I hope you don’t treat all of your patients this way,” he murmurs, referring to the way their legs are intertwined under the table.

“Only the cute ones,” Carlos mumbles, almost as an afterthought as his attention remains focused on his work. As he gets halfway through, he quietly asks, “Wanna tell me what almost caused you to chop your finger off?”

TK should’ve figured a little flirting and a minor emergency wouldn’t let Carlos forget about what’s bugging him. He figures there’s no point in denying. He doesn’t want Carlos to feel like something’s being kept from him and since Carlos worked with this patient too, maybe he’s thinking something similar. “I keep wondering if I missed something.”

Carlos doesn’t follow right away. “Huh?”

“The stroke,” TK stresses. “I was with her the most. I just wonder if I…”

“TK, stop,” Carlos says gently. He places the last stitch, ties it off, and looks at TK.

“But—”

“No,” Carlos interrupts, not letting TK spiral or self-doubt aloud for a second. “You did everything right and I’m not going to let you doubt yourself.”

TK frowns, staring into Carlos’ eyes and feeling his emotions take over. “Her prognosis went from okay to awful. Now she’s got a broken hip and a weakened right side and it’s just gonna be… not good.”

Carlos inhales slowly. He works methodically to wrap a bandage around TK’s finger and then he gently holds his hand.

“I know. It sucks. But these things happen, unfortunately.” Carlos rubs his thumb over TK’s knuckles. Suddenly, the corner of his mouth lifts up in a smile. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a really big heart?”

TK drops his gaze and grumbles. “Not always a good thing.”

Carlos is quiet for a moment and then he tilts TK’s chin up. He looks at TK in a way that makes TK feel like he’s something special. “I think it’s a great thing,” he murmurs, and then he’s up out of his chair and pressing a long kiss to TK’s cheek.

TK still feels the imprint of Carlos’ lips on his skin even after the feeling comes back in his thumb. They throw the meat in the fridge and forget about soup, ordering takeout instead. When this night first started, TK thought maybe they’d go for another round after dinner, but instead they go to bed and Carlos holds TK as they fall asleep and this feels pretty good too.

***

Carlos has always liked coming to work. He likes forgetting about his own problems, to immerse himself in the lives of others, making their problems his own until there’s no space in his mind for anything else. He likes the stakes and the quick-thinking. Most obviously, he likes saving people’s lives.

Now that coming to work means seeing TK smiling with a patient or dressing a wound or furrowing his brow as he charts in deep concentration, Carlos really likes coming to work. He gets everything he likes all at once. It puts a little pep in his step most mornings causing him to do lovesick things like skip making coffee at home, just so he can leave a few minutes earlier and make coffee there. Carlos wasn’t able to break free right away when he got here, so it’s only after a few patients that he’s able to get his caffeine fix.

Before he pushes open the door to the breakroom, he sees TK through the glass pane. Except TK is chatting with Parker in front of the coffee machine, and Carlos once again wonders about any history between them. It’s dumb, incredibly dumb, because Parker has proven to be an ass and TK’s mouth was kissing Carlos’ body a few days ago. They’re both EMTs, Carlos is sure they have a ton to talk about together. They talk every day, multiple times a day, but never what looks like a casual chat in the breakroom.

Parker laughs, a bit obnoxiously. Carlos chooses that point to enter the room. He walks right up to the pair and upon further inspection, he sees the cup of coffee being brewed. Parker already has one. The only reason TK is still here is because he’s waiting for his drink. He tells himself to relax.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, stepping right between the two.

If Parker looks annoyed, Carlos isn’t facing him to see it. Instead he focuses on grabbing a clean cup from the stack while TK takes his that has finished brewing.

“How’s your day going?” TK asks him, and Carlos fixes him with a look that screams ‘you don’t want to know’. Carlos feels Parker’s presence disappearing behind him and a moment later the door opens and closes again. “That good, huh?”

“Maggots, TK. So many maggots,” he groans, and TK reaches forward, squeezing the side of his body that’s hidden from view of anyone else.

“Oh no,” he murmurs in sympathy. He looks off to the side, ensuring the coast is still clear and then steps closer. “Come over tonight? Let me help you forget about it.”

Carlos cracks a smile at how ridiculous TK is, and how easily charmed he finds himself. “Only you can seduce someone in a conversation about maggots.”

TK wrinkles his nose. “Okay, we can stop saying maggots now.” Carlos chuckles and TK glances at the door regretfully again. “See you out there,” he says, and Carlos is smiling long after he’s gone.

“Oh, baby. Oh!”

Carlos’ hips stutter and he moans against the back of TK’s neck. He wasn’t expecting the pet name, and the use of it does something to him. It’s new. Carlos wants to hear it a million more times in a hundred different contexts.

They were on each other the second Carlos knocked on TK’s door, pent up feelings from a long shift with a reward at the end. They didn’t even make it to the bed, not that it’s much farther than the couch, but right now Carlos has TK bent over the end of it and he’s pretty damn happy with where they ended up.

Carlos lifts TK’s thigh, urging his knee to balance on the armrest of the couch. It allows Carlos to drive in deeper and TK’s arms tremble underneath him. “You’re fucking me so good, baby,” he babbles. “So fucking good. Fuck. Give it to me.”

Carlos grunts, snapping his hips faster and grinding inside of TK. “TK—” he chokes out. He feels like he’s gonna fly apart.

“Yes, yes, yes,” TK chants. “I’m right there. Don’t stop.”

Carlos clings with all he can, holding on long enough to reach around and stroke TK’s cock. They come together with loud shouts and obscene sounds of skin on skin, and then TK collapses to the couch. Carlos ends up on the floor, leaning back against the piece of furniture.

“Oh my god,” Carlos praises as he tries to catch his breath. He clumsily gets rid of the condom.

TK hums, sounding blissfully fucked somewhere behind him. “Where are you?” he pouts. “Come here.”

Carlos grins, pushing up on his shaky legs to find TK completely lounging on the couch. Collapsing down beside him, TK curls into his chest. His fingers scratch along the short hairs between his pecs and Carlos leans over to press a long kiss to the top of his messy hair.

“I need a shower,” TK declares, and Carlos agrees.

They stand under the warm spray, trading lazy kisses in between soaping up. When they’re done, they find themselves in the kitchen making grilled cheese sandwiches. It’s the first moment of peace since Carlos got there, and it causes his mind to wander, drifting back to the events of the day.

They’ve been doing this for weeks now. They talk about work and music and food, but nothing too personal. Carlos knows a little about TK’s dad and TK knows a little about Carlos’ time in Texas, but they don’t know details. They don’t know about exes or fears or family drama. They’re not in a real relationship—they’ve never been on a date or done anything just the two of them outside of their apartments—but they’re more than friends with benefits too. He doesn’t know where that leaves them, and Carlos hopes he isn’t crossing a line by asking the question that’s been in the back of his mind all day.

“Hey, can I ask you a question and you can totally tell me to fuck off?”

TK gives him an odd look before he flips one of the sandwiches. He checks the other but it’s not ready yet. “Okay…”

Carlos takes a breath, attempts to ask, and then starts again. “Have you ever had a thing with Parker?”

TK looks taken aback. Carlos plates the two sandwiches and passes one to TK. “Parker? No, why?”

Wordlessly, he follows TK to the other side of the counter, sitting beside him at the breakfast bar. “He made a comment one time that made me think you might’ve rejected him,” Carlos says with a helpless shrug. He feels embarrassed for even bringing it up now.

Except when Carlos sneaks a look at TK, he’s looking down, peeling off the crust on one side of his sandwich and slowly eating it. “Oh.” That’s all he says for a minute and Carlos thinks that's the end of it. “He just wasn’t my type, I didn't like… I wasn’t mean—”

Carlos shakes his head and lays a hand over TK’s. “No. That’s not what I was saying. He was totally out of line and I get why you wouldn’t have wanted to go out with him, if that were the case.”

TK relaxes again, giving Carlos a wry smile. “He’s kind of a creep.”

Carlos is on alert in an instant, searching TK’s eyes. “Did he do something?”

It’s TK’s turn to calm him down. “No, just makes weird comments and stuff.” TK shrugs, and Carlos isn’t ready to be done with this conversation yet.

“Does he bother you? Was he bothering you today?”

TK chuckles at him. “Carlos. Down, boy,” he warns, but Carlos isn’t impressed. “He doesn’t bother me. He hasn’t done anything wrong, he's just… the kind of guy who makes weird jokes and you wish you could tell him to shut up.”

Carlos’ shoulders slump and he finally picks up his grilled cheese, taking a bite. “Yeah,” he mumbles around a full bite of food. After, he considers that’s probably gross, but TK doesn’t seem to mind. Weirdly, Carlos likes that they’re comfortable enough around each other to do that.

“But,” TK says with a smile and a newfound optimism. “It doesn’t matter if he did or does want to date me because I'm dating the hot doctor that everyone wishes they could have.”

Carlos’ cheeks feel warm and he instantly protests. “They do not.”

TK laughs like that’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “They totally do. You should hear the nurse gossip. Pretty sure Rachel called dibs on banging you.”

Carlos practically chokes on his next bite. Rachel is freshly out of nursing school, has a baby pink water bottle, and wears a long sleeve under her scrubs that has little strawberries on it. She’s sweet, and Carlos doesn’t want to think about her saying something like that. “Ponytail Rachel?” he double checks, just to make sure it isn’t pixie cut Rachel from the OR that’s close to retirement. Carlos doesn’t know which option would be worse.

“I know,” TK says in amusement. “Who would’ve thought, right?

“Oh my god,” Carlos mutters in sheer embarrassment. He thinks about what TK said—that TK is dating the hot doctor that everyone wants—and suddenly, Carlos isn’t so concerned with the second half of the statement. He wipes his hands carefully on a napkin and looks at TK. “Wait… we’re dating?”

TK’s smile falters and he laughs nervously. “Uh, it seems like it. I thought so…”

Carlos smiles. “I think so too.”

They smile at each other like two idiots for a moment before TK leans forward and kisses him. He almost falls off his stool, causing them both to laugh before they stable themselves and share a softer kiss.

They continue to eat in companionable silence until TK confesses something to him. “I haven’t been in a relationship in awhile,” he says quietly.

Carlos finishes his last bite and wipes his hands on his napkin before turning to TK. He gives TK a small smile and lays a hand on his knee. “Me neither.”

TK looks visibly relieved, like he was worried Carlos would judge him or think that was weird. “I kind of do the whole… no strings thing. It’s easier that way.”

TK should’ve been able to tell him that and have it be news to Carlos, but Parker spoiled that. And now Carlos is sitting here, feeling a little dumb for thinking maybe they could be something more when it’s clear that TK doesn’t really do that. “Oh. Um—”

TK grabs his hand before he can even think about pulling away. “I’m afraid I’m going to break that rule for you. If you want.”

Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever been offered something so ridiculously easy to accept. Here’s this amazing, beautiful man in front of you. You can be in a relationship with him, he can be yours, but only if you want. Totally get it if you don’t.

Absurdity.

Carlos stands, spinning TK’s stool so the back is to the counter. He steps between TK’s knees and grabs his cheeks so he can tilt his head up for a forceful kiss. TK smiles against his lips and holds Carlos’ wrists until the kiss tames down into a soft brush.

In the spirit of learning things about each other, Carlos drops his hands to TK’s thighs and plays with the hem of his shorts before asking, “Can I ask why you don’t like relationships?”

“Honestly? I love relationships,” TK says with a small laugh that Carlos doesn’t totally get. “I love love and being sappy and cuddling. I’m completely corny and will probably cling to you as much as I can. Fair warning.”

All of that sounds perfect to Carlos. He’d love to be glued to TK. But something isn’t adding up. “Oh. Why the…” Carlos doesn’t know how to word what he’s asking.

“Why the fuckboy phase?” he questions, and Carlos wasn’t going to word it that way, but essentially, yeah. That’s what he wanted to know. Carlos nods and gives TK a moment to collect his thoughts. “The last relationship I was in was with a surgeon at the hospital. It was fast and out of control. He love bombed me and talked about our future and then dumped me out of the blue. He was with someone else a few weeks later. It gave me trust issues, I guess.”

Carlos processes the story, thinking about what it would feel like to have someone be so vocal about how much you mean to them only to find out those were only words. Carlos reminds himself to give reasons for TK to trust him, to stick to his word, but also not to make promises he can’t keep. His own past haunts him in that moment. TK deserves to know about his love life too.

“I think that’s totally understandable,” Carlos tells him softly. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Now I just have to see him around the ER,” TK huffs and Carlos raises a brow.

“Do I know him?”

“Dr. Jones. Alex,” TK tells him, and Carlos is surprised.

He’s worked with the trauma surgeon a few times. He always seems so serious and to the point. Carlos can’t picture someone as bubbly as TK with someone like him.

“Oh,” Carlos says. He isn’t sure what else there is to say.

TK hums, like he doesn't know what else to say either, and maybe that’s okay. They don’t have to waste anymore time on him. “What about you?” TK asks.

“I don't really do relationships either, but that’s more because of being in the closet,” Carlos whispers. He wishes that weren’t the case, but that’s his reality. “My last true relationship was med school and that didn’t last very long because he didn’t want to hide for me.”

TK gives him a sad smile and cranes forward, kissing him sweetly. “Your pace,” he tells Carlos. “Besides, we’re coworkers. We have more than one reason to hide. You don’t get to take all the credit for it,” TK teases, and Carlos forces a smile.

He’s not TK’s superior, so the coworker thing probably isn’t a big deal, but he reaches for the olive branch offered to him and lets it pull him towards TK.

Chapter Text

Now that they’ve determined they’re dating, actually going on dates has become a part of their routine. They get dinner and go on late night ice cream runs. They walk through Central Park or spend a Saturday afternoon in a museum. They get bagels and coffee before TK takes Carlos past the brownstone he grew up in and points out the spots where he spent his childhood.

It feels so easy to fall into this pattern with Carlos. A little too easy, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t, though. If anything, as each day passes, things only seem to get better. Carlos has begun to open up more about his family. TK learns his dad is a Texas Ranger and his mom volunteers at their church. His older sisters are scattered throughout Texas with husbands and kids of their own and though they sound like lovely people, the image Carlos paints makes TK feel more understanding. They didn’t grow up in the same environment, and Carlos’ church-going, law enforcement family perfectly fits a certain stereotype. He doesn’t want to judge them before he even knows them, or before Carlos gives him the whole story, but TK gets why Carlos isn’t entirely out.

New York is a big city though. They can get dressed up and go for a fancy dinner and not worry about running into anyone they know.

“I’ve never been here,” TK says as he takes a seat across from Carlos at the modern-looking restaurant. There are funky lights above them and colorful wall art on the exposed bricks. It’s upscale but still fun, and TK likes the idea of a place like this for date night.

Carlos looks absolutely delighted by this, like he accomplished his mission. “Really?”

“Nope.”

“I looked up their menu online. The reviews said they had really good mocktails.”

TK blinks, pleasantly surprised. Carlos knows he doesn’t drink, he turned down an offer of beer more than once before he told Carlos he doesn’t drink ever. Carlos took it in stride, but he doesn’t know the real reasons. TK knows he should tell him at some point, but he’s not sure how to bring it up.

When their waiter comes around, Carlos orders a Paloma squeeze and TK gets the Italian spritz. Their orders are returned quickly and TK is pleasantly surprised by how refreshing his drink is. Naturally, he wants to try Carlos’.

“Can I have a sip?”

Carlos smiles at him. “Of course.”

Carlos passes his drink over and TK wraps his lips around the straw. He wrinkles his nose and pushes it back a second later as Carlos laughs.

“What? You don’t like it?” Carlos asks as he takes another sip, clearly enjoying it.

“I’m not a big grapefruit fan.”

Carlos laughs at his ridiculousness. “Then why’d you ask?”

TK shrugs. “I don’t know, I was curious.”

Carlos reaches forward and waves his hand. “Okay, let me try yours.”

TK passes it over and watches as Carlos drinks. His reaction isn’t one of disgust, but he’s clearly not overly joyed by it.

“So?”

“Mine’s better,” Carlos decides, and TK rolls his eyes.

While they wait for their food, they take their drinks and head up to the rooftop. The good mood is infectious up here. There’s a live singer in the corner and various people scattered about, some relaxing on couches and others seated at the bar. Before TK can ask where they want to sit, Carlos’ fingers thread in his and he pulls him to an empty spot along the stone half-wall that borders the roof.

TK buzzes with warmth and he’s grateful for the cool glass in his hand to keep him grounded. He lets the orange taste dance on his tongue when they get to their spot before looking at Carlos. He’s undeniably gorgeous in a way TK’s never seen. His cream, semi-transparent top has enough of a V-neck to reveal a patch of chest hair and his gold cross. He eventually has to pull his sunglasses down to cover his eyes when the golden hour sun hits just right, and TK feels like a million bucks up here.

He hadn’t realized how badly he needed a night out like this, an evening away from the hospital or home, let alone one with a gorgeous man at his side. He feels fancy—sophisticated, grown—with a drink in his hand on a date with a drop dead gorgeous man at an expensive restaurant. Yet somehow, this moment doesn’t feel prestigious and stuffy like it did when Alex would spend his wealth on TK. He’s still comfortable and Carlos is still down-to-earth, telling stories about how one of his sisters is afraid of heights and he’d always push his luck with her as a kid.

Eventually, they make their way back downstairs and reclaim their seats. They play footsie under the table and steal bites off of each other’s plates and stare at each other with sappy expressions. Except when the check comes, TK notices a pattern. Carlos will bring takeout when he shows up at TK’s and offer to cook when he’s at his own place. He’ll pay for both of their museum tickets when TK is distracted and bring TK his favorite coffee to the hospital on nights they spend apart.

He pays. At first, TK thought he was trying to be a gentleman, so he let himself be pampered and told Carlos he’d get the next one. Carlos would always agree, but then the next time would roll around and it was always Carlos’ wallet that was affording their outing. When Carlos goes to grab the check tonight, TK traps his hands and the slip of paper on the table.

“Let me get it.”

The corner of Carlos’ mouth quirks up. “I got it.”

Except TK isn’t going down easy this time. “I know you’re a fancy, rich doctor, but I can pay for a date too,” TK reminds him, a little more pointedly than he means to. He may not make as much as most of his friends, but he still gets by. He’s been working full-time for a decade and doesn’t have a mountain of debt like Carlos. He can treat him if he wants to.

Carlos has the decency to look a little sheepish. “I’m still a resident,” he mumbles, and TK raises a brow.

“Exactly. So why not let me help out?”

Slowly, Carlos’ hand relaxes and he lets TK slip the paper out. “It’s all yours.”

“You can spoil me when you make the big bucks,” TK teases.

It’s not until he’s pulling out his credit card that he realizes how that sounds. He’ll be making the big bucks when he’s an attending, two years from now. To imply they’ll still be together then is bold, but then again, Carlos doesn’t seem put off by it.

***

Carlos feels like he’s dragging his body to the hospital this morning.

He was there for sixteen hours yesterday, and then went home only to turn around and come right back. He half-considered sleeping at the hospital until he decided he wouldn’t get any good rest there so a few less hours of actual productive sleep had to be worth something, right?

Now he’s regretting it as he drinks his second coffee before seven.

He may be burning the candle at both ends. It’s nothing new to him, though. During undergrad, he’d spend all day in class, all evening at his part-time jobs getting experience for his med school application, and all night studying. Then in med school, he’d spend all day at his clinicals and again, all night studying. While he’s working more than he’s ever worked, at least the other thing that occupies his time is fun.

TK isn’t stressful. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s a quiet room after so much noise, a soft place to land after rocky terrain, a lighthearted distraction after the heaviest day. Carlos wouldn’t dream of giving him up, not after they only just began.

So he keeps pushing along.

When he’s a few blocks from the hospital, his phone starts ringing in his pocket. He plans on ignoring it, but then considers it could be someone from work. On the slim chance it could be someone telling him to turn around and go home, he scrambles to answer it.

He’s not expecting to see his mom calling, especially since it’s an hour earlier for her. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that they’ve only had a handful of conversations since he came here and they play phone tag more often than not. His clammy hands slide to take the call he’s worried could bring him horrible news.

“Carlitos?”

Even just the sound of his mom’s voice makes him feel far away from New York. He’s transported back to Texas—to hot, muggy days and family dinners around their old oak table.

“Hey, Mama. Is everything okay?” he asks quickly.

“Yes. Why?”

“It’s early,” he points out, and she clicks her tongue.

“It’s not that early,” she argues, and Carlos remembers childhood days of the house coming to life at six in the morning with the sun. “I wanted to catch you before work.”

“Oh. I’m on my way there now. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“I can’t call my son just because? Mi nĩno, I feel like I never speak to you!”

Carlos feels small under her motherly tone. Since he’s moved to New York, there have been a handful of phone calls. At the end of some of them, she’ll pass the phone to his dad and they’ll share no more than the usual ‘work’s going good?’ questions before Gabriel hands the phone to Andrea and Carlos hears a mumbled comment about him going off to do something. Too busy to talk to his son.

“You know how it is, work’s busy,” Carlos mumbles. He spoke to them often enough when he was in Austin for her to know the residency leaves him with little free time, and she responds with a sympathetic hum.

“They work you too hard.”

There’s nothing Carlos can do about that. “It’s how it is.”

“You still have time for some fun things though, yes? You sent that picture.”

Carlos clears his throat. Most of the fun things he has time for aren’t anything he’d talk to his mother about. “Yeah. I’m exploring the city when I can.”

“Are those your friends?”

They ended up taking more photos that night, and Carlos sent one where his arm wasn’t around TK’s shoulders.

“Yes, they all work at the hospital.”

“Are they doctors too?”

“Some,” Carlos responds. He misses talking to her about his life, about who’s in it. He was always a mama’s boy growing up and that doesn’t change just because they’ve disappointed each other.

“I hope New York isn’t too rough. I hear all these things on the news about shootings and—”

“It’s just like any other city, Ma,” Carlos interrupts. “It's a good experience to be able to treat different kinds of emergencies.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

That’s the excuse he gave his family when he told them he wanted to transfer. He needed new experiences to be a well-rounded doctor. He needed to treat someone other than an Austin resident. He couldn’t tell them that he couldn’t bear to face them after lying to them for years, and after they hardly acknowledged the other big secret he was keeping from them.

Remembering that is a good reminder that this isn’t like any other conversation from before. There are so many things that remain unspoken between them and the longer they’re unsaid, the harder it is to say them. Thankfully, he spots the hospital on the next block and it gives him a good excuse to hang up.

He runs into TK at the lockers, who gives him a soft smile and then an odd look. “Hey, you look like hell.”

Carlos huffs. “Thanks.”

TK frowns and then checks the hall before stepping closer. “Sorry. I just mean you look tired.”

Carlos sighs, undoing the lock that he just set less than eight hours ago. “I didn’t get out of here until close to midnight last night.”

TK’s eyes widen. “What? Carlos—”

Carlos shakes his head. “That’s the way it is sometimes, TK.”

“Ask me for anything you need today. More than you usually do, okay? Let me make your day easier.”

Carlos normally doesn’t like treating the techs as his errand runners. There’s no reason he can’t change a dressing if he doesn't have to run off somewhere else. But today he might change that, especially when he knows TK genuinely wants to help.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, and TK brushes their fingers before hitting the floor.

“No! Ow, don’t touch me!”

The woman beside the man’s bed pleads with him. Her sweater reminds Carlos of the older ladies from church as a kid, the ones that always smelled like peppermint for some odd reason. It’s one she’s probably had for years, one her husband has seen countless times. Kissed her in it. Hugged her in. Folded after it came out of the laundry. Hung his own shirts in the closet next to it. Except now, the husband doesn’t recognize the sweater nor the woman wearing it.

“Georgie, it’s me. It’s Angie.” The patient's eyes are wide and unseeing of who’s actually in front of him. He thrashes on the bed and Nancy has to stop him from wacking his arm on the bedrail. “Get away from me. This woman’s gonna kill me!” George locks eyes with Carlos. “She’s gonna kill me, you gotta call the cops.”

Carlos steps forward and attempts to keep his voice as steady as he can. “George. You’re in the hospital. You’re safe.”

“No. No!” he shouts, and Carlos feels way in over his head.

In med school, he spent one month on a memory care unit. Those were some of his hardest days.

“George—”

“Get her out of here!” George screams, and Carlos turns to the wife, who’s nearly in tears.

“Ma’am, let’s talk outside. You can tell me what’s going on.”

He can tell she’s reluctant to leave her husband’s side, but then she forces her gaze away and marches out the door.

“Bilateral soft mitts,” Carlos murmurs quietly to Nancy. “We can’t have him pulling out his lines.”

She gives him a nod and the two of them step into the fluorescent corridor.

“That’s not him,” she pleads with him. Tears begin to stream down her face and she pushes her white hair out of her face. “That’s not my husband, he was sweet. He was a sweet man. He would never… I would never…”

Carlos can feel the desperation rolling off of her and his own throat feels like it’s closing up. He can’t imagine his partner of fifty years looking at him like a stranger, let alone acting like he was someone to fear. He outstretches his hands in what he hopes is a calming gesture.

“Angie, we’re going to take care of your husband. Can you help us?”

She nods erratically. “Yes. Yes. Anything you need.”

“I know George is suffering from dementia, but is his memory loss worse now or in the last few days than it has been?”

Angie’s eyes drift towards the room. “He’s normally not this bad,” she chokes out. “He forgets who I am sometimes, but he tries and he would smile when I’d put on his music and we’d look at pictures and… no. No, this is new.”

Carlos nods along. “Okay. It’s possible this new onset confusion is the result of an acute medical condition. We’re going to run some tests.”

“A— acute… like what?”

“Well,” Carlos says. He tries not to give patients or families hypotheticals. He’ll let them know what he’s testing for without leading them one way or another before they have anything concrete to go off of. “Low sodium can cause confusion. So can UTIs. We’ll start there.”

Angie looks like she finally has solid land to stand on for the first time since she followed the gurney in through the ambulance bay. She collects herself and nods. “Okay. Thank you, doctor.”

Carlos nods back and Nancy steps out of the room.

“Can I…” Angie hesitates and looks at the closed door.

“He’s calmed down a bit. I’ll go in with you,” Nancy offers.

Carlos takes that as his permission to leave. Though with the lack of sleep, the phone call with his mom, and now this case, he feels like he’s a pot simmering on the stove. He feels a tingling underneath his skin that’s only going to build and build. He just needs one minute. He needs one minute to put the orders in for these tests and for the first time today, something goes right. No one bothers him or talks to him for that minute and when he’s done, he stands abruptly and makes a straight line to the bathroom.

He braces his hands on the countertop when he gets there, remembering the breathing techniques his mentor taught him when he was on his ICU rotation in med school. He doesn’t know if they actually helped, but they gave him something else to focus on other than the patients who died in front of him. While the one out there isn’t dying, this is almost worse. He doesn’t know how Angie does it, how she looks in the eyes of the man she loves and is only seen as a stranger in return.

Carlos has never known love that deep. He doesn’t know about loving someone through sickness and health like so many of the people he sees. A husband who physically lifts his wife every time she wants to move to a new piece of furniture in the house because she can’t stand. Those who memorize their partner’s medication list. Those who stay with their partner overnight, cramming their body into uncomfortable chairs just so their love won’t be alone.

A woman whose husband now sees her as something to be feared because of a disease that eats away at his brain.

He sees so much love, but he sees so many things to be fearful of. New worries, activities he’ll never try, diseases he’d never wish on his worst enemy. He has seen it all, all the cruel, unforgiving harshness of the world. And some days, Carlos doesn’t know how he can keep going. How is anyone supposed to keep going?

“Hey, I saw you run in here, are you sick?” Carlos startles at the sound of TK’s voice. “Carlos?”

It’s too late to stop this from happening. TK rounds the corner, and Carlos doesn’t have time to wipe his cheeks before TK catches his expression in the mirror. TK’s face instantly crumples and he rushes over, locking his arms tightly around Carlos’ waist and plastering himself to his back.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay,” he whispers, kissing Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos wants to tell him to never put his lips on his scrubs, but the gesture is so comforting and sweet that he can’t be bothered to. “You’re okay, baby. Shh.”

Carlos lets out another pathetic whimper and then finally scrubs at his face.

“Does this have anything to do with the yelling I heard?” TK asks quietly, and Carlos nods solemnly.

He maneuvers himself in TK’s grasp. He doesn’t want to get caught like this, but he can’t imagine asking TK to let go. Instead, he spins around so his back is to the counter and TK’s hands are still resting on his waist. For some reason, as Carlos’ eyes search for somewhere to land that isn’t TK’s own eyes, he finds TK’s badge.

The picture on there is dated. At least five years old, maybe more. It could be from when he first started here at 20 years old. TK told him about how he worked on an ambulance first and became more and more interested in what happens with patients once they drop them off at the door. In the picture, he’s bright-eyed and smiling wide. His hair is a little longer, curling just behind his ears, and his features are younger. He looks eager. Excited. Carlos wonders if the reality of this environment has dimmed that spark he wears on his chest.

“His wife was pleading with me to understand that he’s not a bad person,” Carlos whispers brokenly. “All she was worried about was that we would see him for how he is today. Aggressive and angry and fearful. She didn’t want that to become the memory people have of him.”

TK’s face is etched with sadness. “God, Carlos. That’s awful.”

“How many times do you think she’s had to tell people that? How many times will she have to?”

“As many as it takes,” TK answers quietly, his gaze not faltering. His thumbs sweep back and forth over Carlos’ waist. “She’s doing that because she wants to, because she cares about him and wants what’s best. And if that means making sure people know who he was before, who he really is, then that’s what she’ll do.”

“It’s not fair,” Carlos mumbles pathetically, like he’s six years old again wondering why his big sisters get a later bedtime.

“It hardly ever is.”

If that’s not the truth, Carlos doesn’t know what is. He meets the most extraordinary people here. Those who founded schools for unhoused youth. Those who have traveled the world to track down long-lost grandparents. Authors and firefighters and parents and children and farmers and immigrants and rabbis. People who die under his hands or a few days later in a different corridor of this hospital or several months later from the inoperable brain tumor that Carlos discovered on the MRI image.

He’s never doubted that emergency medicine is the speciality he wanted to match into, but again, he wonders how anyone makes it through this job with their sanity intact.

“Sorry for breaking down like this,” he mutters a few moments later.

TK raises a brow. “You think this is gonna scare me away? I’d be more concerned if you never broke down.” He leans forward, helping to wipe away any lingering tears. “I’d probably have to break up with you and five years from now I’d be like ‘remember that robot doctor I dated? That was weird’.”

“Stop,” Carlos chuckles as he shakes his head.

“I’m serious. I’m here for you,” TK promises. “I’ve never been with someone who gets it as much as I do. Next time you can comfort me, okay?”

And that’s what it all comes back to. Love. It comes back to the feeling in his chest when TK looks at him. The way TK knows just what to say even without them knowing each other for long. It’s the way that Carlos feels like he can conquer anything with TK by his side.

Love. That’s what keeps people going.

He holds onto TK for a moment longer. “Okay.”

The day seems to calm down after that.

Carlos places a cast on a little girl who’s in her too-big soccer jersey. She’s all smiles as she explains that she hates soccer and now she doesn’t have to play anymore. He ships a laboring woman up to L&D faster than he can blink and deals with someone who only comes in to get a note for work.

Then, an MVA victim causes a stir. He’s working the case with Dr. Marwani and while it’s clear the man needs a trauma surgeon due to his high-grade liver laceration, they find out a cardiac event is what caused the crash.

Even Dr. Vega isn’t sure how to proceed and both trauma and cardio are paged to the ER. Which is how there ends up being two surgeons arguing in the corridor.

“It doesn’t matter if you stop him from bleeding out if his heart isn’t functioning!” Owen explains with frustration evident. “We take him to my OR and give him blood while he’s there. Keep him from bleeding out before I send him to you.”

“He is not stable enough for heart surgery,” Alex argues, not for the first time.

“People with cardiac arrest usually aren’t. That’s why they need heart surgery!”

“Doctors,” Dr. Vega interrupts with a tone that makes Carlos want to sink into the wall even more than he already has. “If you continue to argue about this any longer, he won’t make it long enough to get to either of your ORs.”

The two doctors drop their gazes as Tommy marches into the patient’s room. Carlos doesn’t know if he should follow her or wait for the surgeons’ decision or neither. What he does is find TK’s gaze across the unit, mainly because Carlos felt someone’s eyes. TK’s standing at the nursing station, watching in horror from a distance. A second later, he shakes his head at something Nancy says and stalks away in the other direction.

By the time Carlos is focused on what’s happening in front of him, he’s missed the conclusion. Dr. Strand enters the room and a minute later, Mateo is pushing the bed to the OR and that’s that.

***

“Good morning, baby.”

TK strokes his hand over Carlos’ hair, petting and soothing until he flutters those eyes open. TK has been up for a bit now, not needing the extra sleep Carlos did, and he used the extra time to make blueberry pancakes. Now, the stack is warm at the breakfast bar and TK doesn’t want Carlos to sleep in until they’re cold.

“Mm. Good morning.” He shuffles closer, all burrito’d up in TK’s blankets. His knees bump TK’s back where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and TK throws a hand to the other side of his hip to brace on the mattress. “Time is it?”

“A little after nine.” When Carlos’ nose wrinkles, TK bends down to kiss his head. “You needed the rest.”

Carlos’ eyes slip shut again and a wave of thrill rolls through TK. He’s so unguarded here. He’s not professional or put together. His hair is a mess and he’s grumpy and cuddly and he’s all TK’s.

“Come here please,” Carlos mumbles as he blindly reaches for TK, and TK smiles, indulging him.

He bends at the waist and kisses Carlos long and soundly. “Breakfast is done.”

Carlos blinks those beautiful eyes open at him. “Breakfast can wait.

“I made pancakes.”

Carlos hums, pulling TK in for another kiss. “Perfect for reheating.”

Somehow, in a move TK wasn’t anticipating for Carlos’ sleepy state, Carlos wrestles his arm around TK’s body and yanks him forward. They topple together onto the bed and TK is helpless as he gets eaten by the blankets.

“Carlos,” TK laughs as he finally settles, halfway under the blanket and on top of Carlos. It’s a nice place to be, warm and safe. He props his chin on Carlos’ bare chest and accepts it.

“Hi,” Carlos mumbles, and TK grins.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here. I know I wasn’t good company.”

Carlos pretty much fell asleep as soon as he got here, exhausted from the day. “I wanted you here. Even if it was only to sleep.”

“Sleep better when you’re with me,” Carlos whispers, his sleepiness keeping him unguarded. “Makes me feel like I’m not so far away from my home.”

TK’s heart starts to pound so forcefully he’s afraid Carlos can feel it. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that, to a confession that he feels like a home Carlos has known all of his life. When he can’t find the words, he leans forward and catches Carlos’ lips in a deep kiss. His tongue prods then searches and Carlos’ hands smooth up and down his back.

They kiss and kiss without taking it any further until their lips are numb and they’re both half hard but ignoring it. And then when they get too lazy to keep kissing, TK drops his head to Carlos’ shoulders and they hold each other, tangling even deeper into the blankets in a way that makes TK feel like he’ll never get out.

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?” Carlos asks after a few moments of listening to the traffic outside.

TK plays dumb. Carlos is so different from the mess of his family and past that talking about them now feels like it would spoil the moment. “About what?”

Carlos pauses for a moment, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “Your dad and your ex causing a scene.”

TK sighs, burrowing into Carlos’ warmth and mumbling, “They weren’t my dad and my ex there. They were two doctors having a dick measuring contest.”

Carlos snorts a laugh and it makes TK smile too, kissing Carlos’ chest. Carlos makes everything easier to deal with. Before, that scene they caused yesterday would’ve bothered TK, now he doesn’t really feel like wasting time thinking about it when he could be thinking about Carlos instead.

“That interaction pretty summed up the entire time I was with him,” TK confesses. Alex was never Owen’s favorite boyfriend of his. It got to the point where TK stopped seeing his dad as often, which he now knows is a terrible sign for the state of that relationship.

“He and your dad didn’t get along?”

TK huffs humorously. “I thought he’d be happy I was dating a doctor, but no. My dad was not subtle about letting me know that the relationship wasn’t good. Guess he was right though.”

Carlos hums and threads his fingers through TK’s hair, scratching at his scalp. “Sounds like—”

A knock at the door interrupts him and TK pokes his head up frowning. “Who’s here?” he grumbles, unimpressed by the interruption.

“Do you need to go see?” Carlos asks.

TK is about to say no, but then the knock comes again, more forcefully, and TK groans. “I’ll go get rid of them.”

He kisses Carlos’ cheek and then clambers off of him, nearly face-planting when the sheet wraps around his ankle. Carlos chuckles and TK flips him the bird behind his back, causing him to laugh harder. TK shoots him a look over his shoulder, which dies instantly when he sees how good Carlos looks. He’s pushed himself up so he’s leaning back against the headboard with the blankets pooling at his waist to put his golden, chiseled torso on display. TK is going to tell whoever is on the other side of this door to fuck off so he can return to that.

When he cracks the door open, it’s not who he’s expecting. “Dad?”

“Hey son,” Owen greets before he brushes past TK inside.

TK panics. “Wait—”

“Can you believe Dr. Jones yesterday. I mean the nerve of that guy to—” Owen freezes, stopping his rant as he comes to a halt in the middle of TK’s living room. TK feels the moment he clocks that TK isn’t alone—he tilts his head like a curious dog, Carlos is clutching the blankets to his chest in horror, and TK feels like he can’t breathe. “Dr. Reyes! Hello!”

“Dr. Strand,” Carlos stutters. His throat sounds like it’s as equally closed up and TK does his best to convey how sorry he is through his expression.

No one is supposed to know about them, about Carlos. And now TK just fucked that all up.

Owen looks over his shoulder, arching a brow. “I’m sorry, TK. I didn’t realize you had company.”

“You didn’t ask before you barged in here,” TK mutters through his clenched jaw.

“Well.” Owen claps his hands together. “Sorry to interrupt, boys. What do you say we all grab breakfast together?”

TK’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “What? No—”

“Sure, sir,” Carlos responds like he’s answering to a superior. TK whips his head towards him.

“Carlos, we do not have to.”

Carlos shrugs his shoulders like he’s trying not to cause a scene and then pulls the blankets up even higher. They’re practically at his neck at this point. “It’s better than talking here.”

“Excellent,” Owen beams, and then doesn’t move.

TK marches over to him. “Okay, Dad. Can you give us a little bit?” he says pointedly. “We’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll see if I can find a table somewhere nearby. I’ll text you the deets,” Owen calls out as he heads out the door.

“You do that,” TK mutters, and then drops down onto the foot of the bed and then his head falls into his hands and he scrubs at his eyes. A second later, he twists around at the waist and looks at Carlos desperately. “I am so sorry about that. We really do not have to go. You can bow out, I’ll tell him you got called in or something and I will make him swear that he won’t tell anyone about us.”

“TK, it’s… okay,” he decides, and TK has a hard time believing that.

He searches Carlos’ eyes. “Is it?”

Carlos shifts on the bed and the blankets begin to fall now that it’s just the two of them. “Am I ready for the whole hospital to find out? No. But am I okay with my boyfriend’s dad knowing and having a meal with him? Yeah.”

TK shouldn’t be surprised by the label. They had the ‘what are we?’ conversation weeks ago, but this is the first time either of them have said the B word out loud. At least to each other. Combined with the fact that Carlos is feeling comfortable enough, brave enough, to want to meet his father, TK has no choice but to lean forward and kiss him senseless.

“That’s okay?” Carlos asks once they part.

“Yes, it’s okay,” TK answers as easy as breathing.

Because he’s Owen, he picks a trendy spot a few blocks from TK’s apartment. TK can tell Carlos’ nerves make an appearance on the walk there, because his hand is a little sweaty in TK’s grasp, but he doesn’t point it out. He only assures Carlos over and over that Owen has been practically begging TK to be in a stable relationship, and that he’s going to love Carlos.

He’s already seated at a table when they enter. Carlos borrowed one of TK’s bigger button-ups because all he had was a pair of jeans that were left from a time before and his dirty scrubs. Objectively, it’s a perfectly nice outfit for a ‘meet the dad’ brunch, but with the way it clings to Carlos’ biceps, it’s a bit obscene in a way that delights TK. He just hopes his dad doesn't do something horribly embarrassing like comment on it.

Owen stands when they make their way to the table, and Carlos holds out his hand. “Dr. Strand, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you,” he greets, all cordial and professional like he wasn’t shirtless in this man’s son’s bed only thirty minutes ago.

Owen returns the handshake and smiles at Carlos before giving TK a look of amusement with a side of impressed. “We’re here because you’re dating my son, not to have a business meeting. Call me Owen,” Owen tells him, and TK tries to hide his shock. He doesn’t think in the entire time he was dating Alex that Owen ever told him to call him by his first name.

As they all take their seats, Carlos folds the napkin over his lap and takes a sip of water right as Owen asks, “So, TK? Is this hickey guy?”

Carlos chokes on his water and TK shoots daggers at his father. “His name is Carlos and he is an emergency medicine physician. Don’t call him hickey guy,” TK corrects as he reaches a hand over to rub Carlos’ back. “But yes.”

“TK!” Carlos mutters as he looks over desperately.

“Babe, think of how he found us this morning,” TK points out.

“I’m well aware that you are having sexual relations with my son,” Owen unhelpfully adds.

“Why would you word it like that?” TK grumbles before his focus is back on his overwhelmed and frazzled boyfriend. “Besides, it’s a good thing.”

“Please explain how this is a good thing?” Carlos mutters before shooting a pleasant smile in Owen’s direction.

“I knew he was seeing someone,” Owen chimes in. “I didn’t know who or if it was anything serious, but I wanted it to be because of the smile this mystery guy put on his face.”

Some of the tension leaves Carlos’ shoulders and he looks over at TK, as if checking to see if that’s true. TK gives him an encouraging smile and then Carlos looks back at Owen. “He makes me happy too,” Carlos tells him, and TK fights a smile as he reaches for Carlos’ hand under the table.

“But Dad, we need you to keep this a secret.”

Owen frowns. “Why? Neither of you are each other’s superior. There’s no reason this isn’t appropriate at work.”

“It’s because of me, actually,” Carlos chimes in, and TK looks over at him. “I’m not out, and I’d like to be able to be someday, but I’m not sure I’m ready just right now.”

He looks younger now than he does when he’s running a code blue. His vulnerability is all over his face and TK doesn’t know all the details of what his life was like in Texas, but he’s incredibly proud of Carlos for admitting this to someone who’s essentially a stranger to him. TK gives Carlos’ hand a supportive squeeze and then strokes his thumb over his knuckles.

“In that case, your secret is safe with me,” Owen tells him with a fatherly smile. TK knew he could count on him for this. His dad may not be perfect, but he’s always been good with this kind of thing.

The waiter comes soon and ends the serious discussion and when their food orders are placed, Owen begins to ask more about Carlos. Carlos tells stories of when he knew he wanted to be a doctor and why emergency medicine, and TK learns things he didn’t know. Like how Carlos witnessed so many accidents first hand at his family’s ranch growing up, about how he learned to make a tourniquet out of horse’s reins when he was twelve and how to splint a broken wrist until EMS could get there. TK bets Carlos had a killer personal statement for his med school application and he would love to read it someday. By the end of the meal, TK can tell that Owen is equally impressed and when he hugs TK goodbye, he murmurs ‘I like this one, and not just because he’s a kickass doctor’ in TK’s ear. TK didn’t know he needed his father’s stamp of approval until it felt so good to get it.

“That went well today, right?” Carlos asks later that night. Of all the things he expected to do today, having breakfast with Dr. Owen Strand was not one of them. All things considered, he thinks it went well, but he can’t always trust his mind.

TK reaches forward to grab the remote off the coffee table, pausing the home renovation show they’re watching. Then, he turns to Carlos in the low light. “Babe, I think he wants to date you too.” Carlos looks away and his cheeks feel warm as TK laughs and kisses the side of his face.

“I’m serious. You are every parent’s dream for their kid. Perfect boyfriend material,” TK praises, and it all feels like a little too much.

“You are too, you know,” Carlos mumbles, reaching for TK’s hand. He may not be in a spot to introduce TK to his own parents, but that has nothing to do with TK.

“Parents love me,” TK agrees, not implying anything, but in that teasing, cocky way that he often pulls out in conversation with Nancy.

“As badly as it started out, I’m glad that happened,” Carlos confesses. He’s almost glad it happened that way, that his hand was forced, because if he had to make that choice on his own he doesn’t know how long it would’ve taken him.

TK tilts his chin up and Carlos kisses him like he knows TK is asking for. “Me too,” TK murmurs when they part, and then he leans back against Carlos, switching their cuddling position.

Carlos’ hand falls to TK’s abdomen and he strokes rhythmically after TK complained of feeling full earlier. He hums in appreciation, nuzzling his head back. Carlos kisses the top of it and thinks a dangerous thought about wanting this for so many nights to come.

When his phone begins to buzz on the nearby end table, Carlos plans on ignoring it. He glances over to make sure it’s not an emergency, and then falters when he sees an incoming FaceTime from Iris.

He’s still scared, terrified even, of scaring TK away. It gets worse the deeper he gets into this. Today only reaffirmed for him that they grew up so differently, and he can’t help but worry that TK wouldn’t understand. But he wants TK to know him, to know who he was before they met, and he can give some of that to TK now.

“Who is it?” TK mumbles half-attentively. His gaze is still fixed on the TV screen.

“Hey, TK,” Carlos says with a hint of question. Something in his voice must be off because TK sits upright and looks at him. “Want to meet my best friend from Texas?”

“Oh.” TK’s brows shoot up. He pushes himself upright and then looks down at his worn sweats, brushing away invisible crumbs. “Right now?”

“Babe, you look fine.”

“Fine?”

“Good. Perfect,” Carlos corrects, wincing slightly. “Besides, she won’t care about your clothes. Promise.”

TK’s uncertainty shifts to excitement. “You better answer.” He gestures at Carlos’ phone.

He does just that, and a second later, Iris’ face fills his screen. “Hey, what was that really good Indian takeout place we discovered our second year?” she asks without any preamble.

Carlos blinks. “Uh.. Bombay?”

Her face lights up. “Right. Kay, thanks. Bye—”

“Iris, wait!” he blurts out, and Iris gives him a weird look.

“What? And why is your camera so close to your face, dude. Back up.”

Carlos licks his lips and can’t help but smile a little. “Fine. This is TK,” he introduces as he stretches his arm out more. He doesn’t have to go far for TK to be on camera with how close they’re sitting together. “You don’t have to Internet stalk him now.”

TK gives him a funny look and then greets, “Hey, Iris!”

Iris’ eyes narrow as she gets too close to her phone to inspect the image displayed to her. “Wait… hospital, ‘I can’t stop talking about him’ TK?”

Carlos tries to fight his blush, but it’s hopeless. TK squeezes his side and smiles. “Yes, this is him.”

Iris whistles. “Okay, you definitely don’t need a disclaimer that he’s hotter in person. He’s fine enough on screen.”

TK laughs happily, eating up the attention. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Iris is the reason I survived med school,” Carlos explains, and TK looks at her in excitement over shared interests.

“You’re a doctor?”

Iris shakes her head like the idea is ludicrous. “Oh, no. I work at a women's shelter.”

“Oh…” TK looks to Carlos for clarification when Iris doesn’t offer anything else.

“She didn’t finish the program. Found a different calling,” Carlos explains softly, and Iris nods.

“That sounds like very noble work,” TK commends, and Carlos folds his hands over TK’s.

“You work with Carlos?”

“I do. I’m an EMT.”

Iris tilts her head. “Most EMTs work on an ambulance.”

TK chuckles a little but Carlos can hear the confusion in his voice. Carlos resists the urge to jump in and play mediator. “I used to work on an ambulance, but I like knowing what happens after that.

“But the ER is just another stop. I mean it’s not the final destination, not by any means.”

This time TK’s laugh has a little more strain to it. “I guess that’s true.”

“Iris was thinking about internal med,” Carlos jumps in.

She nods. “That’s where you really get to know the patient. Sometimes not always for the best.”

“Well, if there’s ever a need for an EMT on the medsurg units, sign me up,” TK responds, meeting her pace for pace, and Carlos smiles.

“You’d be good at that,” Iris decides, and then she drops the conversation. “Carlos, you did this at literally the worst time. I have to go to Bombay now, but bring him to Texas when you visit. I have all kinds of stories for you, TK.”

TK grins widely at that while Carlos’ heart feels like it’s palpitating. “I can’t wait.”

It’s Carlos' turn to feel like he’s on shaky ground. It’s not that he’ll never go back to Texas, but he’s not dying to race back there right now, especially when he’s in love with his life in New York. “I’ll be back eventually.”

“Bye!” Iris calls out, and then the call is done. Carlos tosses his phone to the side and collects a breath before looking at TK. His boyfriend smiles back softly.

“She seems awesome.”

Carlos nods. “Yeah, she’s pretty great.”

“I feel like she definitely pulled you out of your comfort zone.”

Carlos chuckles. He remembers the nights out with his class that he wouldn’t have attended if it weren’t for Iris and how she got him to raise his hand to answer in class more, especially when she knew he had the right answer. She boosted his confidence.

“Once or twice,” he agrees. He has that same feeling when he looks at TK. He thinks of singing karaoke and having breakfast with TK’s father. He thinks of shirtless selfies he sends TK because TK’s constant praise lets him know he’s hot. “My favorite people tend to do that,” Carlos murmurs, and TK’s whole expression melts.

He leans forward, grasping Carlos’ cheeks and kisses him several times until they’re smiling against each other’s mouths.

“I wish I could’ve known you back then,” TK muses, and Carlos inhales slowly. He wouldn’t have been ready for TK then, as much as he hates to admit.

“I think we met at the perfect time.”

TK thinks that over and then comes to his own conclusions. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He settles back into Carlos’ side and presses play, but they don’t even make it to the commercial break before TK asks, “You don’t have any upcoming plans to visit your family? For holidays or something?”

Carlos tries not to tense up. He doesn’t know when he became unable to talk about his family, somewhere between lying to their face as he brought home his fiancé, or calling it off because he’s actually gay.

“Probably, but…” Carlos doesn’t know when. He definitely doesn’t have any concrete plans to go back at the moment.

TK suddenly sits upright and looks at Carlos with mild panic. “Oh. Oh my god, I wasn't like… inviting myself to come with. I know Iris said—”

Carlos shakes his head, stopping TK’s spiral. “No, I know,” he murmurs, but that doesn’t feel good enough. He can’t blame TK for jumping to conclusions though, especially when he only has half of the facts. This morning Carlos met his dad, he should know why it won’t be that easy if the roles are reversed. “I told you that I only came out to them recently,” Carlos says slowly.

TK reaches for his hand. “Yeah.”

Carlos looks down at their intertwined fingers, trying to understand why seeing their son like this isn’t something they feel like they can talk about. “It didn’t go… great.”

TK sighs heavily and he scoots closer, kissing Carlos’ forehead. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Carlos shrugs. “And we haven’t exactly spoken a lot since then. I don’t know where we stand.”

“Want to talk about it,” TK offers, making this room the safest place he’s known with a single sentence.

He does and yet, he doesn’t. He’s never been good at talking about his feelings, especially when he’s scared of disappointing the person he’s telling them to. He starts with pieces, breaking off little bits of himself until he’s certain he can hand the whole thing over to TK and not have him run off with it.

“Word made it back to my parents that I was out with a guy,” Carlos explains. He doesn’t give a name. There’s no need to. In the grand scheme of things, he was just some pawn in this game. It could’ve been anyone that set the pieces into motion. There was nothing special about this mediocre date. “And so I told them that I was gay because I felt like I had to.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own time,” TK murmurs.

Carlos doesn’t tell him that he probably wouldn't be sitting here right now if he got to do it on his own time.

“And they… I don’t know. Didn’t say much. I know they love me, but I guess I don’t know that they love me being gay. We don’t really talk.

When Carlos finally looks at TK there’s a deep frown on his face. “I’ve been around when your mom has called,” he says in quiet confusion.

“Yeah, she calls, but it’s always ‘how’s work?’ or a story about my nephew or her asking if I’m eating well. It’s never about if I'm seeing someone.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos.”

“Your dad is so open about it,” Carlos says a little desperately. If TK could just grasp that he didn’t grow up like that. He doesn’t know that life.

“A little too open.” TK sighs. “I’m sorry about earlier, if that was awkward—”

“No, no.“ That’s the opposite of what Carlos meant. It was and Carlos still doesn’t know how he’ll face Owen tomorrow if he sees him, but he’s invested in a way Carlos has never known. “I mean, a little, but in a nice way. It’s nice that he’s interested.“

TK’s mouth twists, as if seeing his family in a different light. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I didn’t realize you were struggling so much,” he mumbles.

It makes Carlos feel off-kilter. For as much as he and TK share right now, there’s still so much they don’t know. For whatever reasons, that makes Carlos feel stuck between two homes. Texas doesn’t have all of him, but New York doesn’t either.

Chapter Text

“We’re going to miss our reservation.”

As soon as the statement’s out, Carlos’ tongue is back in TK’s mouth.

“We could skip it,” Carlos mumbles against his lips.

TK is 100% on board with that plan, but it wasn’t his idea to go out in the first place. He’d be happy right here making out with Carlos by the front door of his apartment. “You’re the one who made it.”

“That was before I saw you in this.”

TK giggles happily as Carlos gropes his ass and kisses his neck. He doesn’t think his outfit is anything special–only black jeans and a black and white-patterned button up–but the pants hug him nicely and he spritzed on more cologne than usual and that might have something to do with Carlos’ obsession with his ass and neck right now.

When Carlos is about to start grinding against him, TK decides he’s going to have to be the one who thinks with their brain. “Come on, baby,” he encourages as he weasels his way out of Carlos’ grasp. “Let’s go to dinner and you can have your way with me later.”

Carlos catches him around the waist and presses a long kiss to his cheek. It makes him warm inside and afraid to live in a world where he’s not treated like he is right now. “I’m holding you to that.”

“I’m holding you to it,” TK fires back as he trails after Carlos into the hallway of his apartment building.

It sets a playful mood for the walk to a sushi restaurant that TK’s been begging to go to for at least a few weeks. His boyfriend has told him multiple times that he’s not a big sushi fan—TK is adamant that it’s because Austin doesn’t have good sushi—and that TK can very easily order some to go on a night they’re not together. TK works a good pout though, which is why he’s holding hands with Carlos, explaining all about which rolls he thinks Carlos will like best.

“You’re gonna love sashimi. Oh! Or a spicy ahi tuna roll.”

Carlos raises a brow at him. “Are those just your favorites?”

TK blinks at him. “Maybe. But you’ll like them. I promise.”

Carlos smiles and shakes his head as he keeps walking. “What if I want a California roll?”

“Don’t let my dad hear you say that,” TK mutters. “He’s a snob.”

“You didn’t inherit snobbish sushi tendencies?” Carlos questions, and TK fakes offense. “You have seen me eat vending machine dinners consisting of Combos and fruit snacks. Do I look like a snob?”

Carlos purses his lips and tilts his head. “Well, I have seen the water you drink.”

TK swats his arm. “Don’t judge me,” he accuses.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault you grew up with two rich doctor parents.”

TK recognizes the position he grew up in. It’s certainly one of privilege and while he knows there are valid criticisms that come from that, he doesn’t feel like that’s what Carlos’ getting at. He feels okay with playing along. “I didn’t make you buy it to keep at your place.”

Carlos hums, squeezing TK’s hand and pulling him closer. As they cross the crosswalk, Carlos effortlessly switches positions and comes to the other side of TK. It puts Carlos in the position of being closer to the road in a gesture that makes TK feel oddly protected.

“I like spoiling you,” Carlos tells him, and the two of them share a private smile before they look where they're going again.

Maybe TK did grow up a little spoiled. It hasn’t turned him into a horrible person. He still has drive and ambition and if his boyfriend wants to spoil him a little too, so what?

“The only bad part about sushi is the soy sauce,” TK decides, returning to their previous conversation.

Carlos gives him a funny look. “You like soy sauce. I made you stir fry the other night.”

“Yeah, but it comes in boring, plastic pouches. In some parts of the world, it comes in little containers that look like fish and I swear it’s the cutest—”

The squealing of tires cuts TK off and as he whips his head towards the street, Carlos’ body barrels into his side, swiftly rushing him back towards the alley. The world blurs for TK as he grips Carlos with one arm and instinctively covers his head with the other, not knowing exactly what’s going on around him, but knowing enough with the sounds of metal crunching and people screaming.

His heart pounds in his chest and his blood rushes in his ears and he thinks one terrible thought. This is what my mom’s last moments must’ve felt like.

“–K? TK? You good?”

TK shakes himself out of it. Carlos’ worried face comes into view first, a little blurry until he blinks a few times. TK can’t answer him right away, and his vision seems to jump around as he takes in the scene around them. Up ahead of them on the block, where they would’ve been if they left 30 seconds early, is a black sedan that drove onto the sidewalk. Smoke is pouring out of the engine and— oh god. TK sees the woman pinned against the hood first. The man on the sidewalk is second. And there’s another one—

All of TK’s cylinders begin firing on emergency mode. He’s not a man on a date anymore. He’s an EMT on the scene. He blinks at Carlos again, nodding before he finds his voice. “I’m good. I’m good. Are you?”

Carlos nods back and slowly lets go of TK’s biceps. “I’m okay.”

TK nods in relief. “We need to…”

Carlos reads his mind. “Let’s go.”

TK takes off running to the man laying on the sidewalk, seeing that Carlos is taking care of the woman pinned. He has to skid to a stop because of how fast he’s moving and he probably tears a hole in his jeans when his knees hit the pavement. The man is unmoving with a smattering of cuts and scrapes on his skin and a leg that looks like it’s at a wrong angle.

“Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

TK taps his cheek and then checks his carotid. It beats fast, but steady, so TK rubs his sternum.

“Sir!”

There’s a groan, followed by a gasp as his eyes shoot open. And then a scream.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re okay. No, don’t move!” TK says quickly as the man begins to become agitated in his confused state.

“What happened? What— Where’s Clarissa?” His eyes begin frantically darting around and TK’s afraid he’s going to try to get up again. “Clarissa!”

“I’m here with my friend Carlos,” TK quickly explains in what he hopes is a soothing tone. “He’s a doctor. She’s in good hands.”

He has no idea if Clarissa is the woman Carlos is working on. For this man’s sake, he hopes not. There’s a strong chance she won’t be alive long enough to make it to the hospital, if she isn’t already gone.

It’s clear that this guy isn’t really hearing him anyway. “What happened? What—” He cries out again after attempting to move his leg.

“Sir, stay still. I think your leg might be broken.”

He groans. “It hurts like a bitch.”

“What else hurts?”

The man’s eyes squeeze shut. “My back.”

TK tries not to panic. He can move his legs, so at least that’s a good sign. “Okay. I’m TK. I’m an EMT.”

“You don’t look like one,” he groans, and TK nearly laughs.

“I’m off duty. Which means I don’t have any of my stuff. I can’t splint your leg so don’t move it until the ambulance gets here.”

As if on cue, TK hears the wail of a siren in the distance.

“Are you bleeding anywhere?”

The man shakes his head. “No. No, go help someone else. Help Clarissa.”

TK hates to leave him, but there are so many people. He needs to see if anyone has any pressing injuries. Quickly, he scans the scene, seeing a small crowd forming. Some are talking on the phone, others look like they’re in shock, and thankfully, some appear to be searching for a place to help.

“Hey!” TK calls out, drawing the attention of a few. “I need someone over here.”

For a few aggravating moments, no one moves, and then a woman who looks like she was out for a run starts jogging forward. “Yes, yes. What do you need?”

“Watch him,” TK instructs, already standing. “He’s stable, just stay with him until help arrives.”

TK doesn’t wait for a response; he’s already running to the next person. There are only a few that don’t have someone attending to them. Someone really needs to check on the driver too. He’ll do that after he sees the man bleeding from a head wound.

TK goes through the same routine again—checking responsiveness and life-threatening injuries first. He’s mentally triaging, placing imaginary bands on their wrists to remember where to send the paramedics first. This guy is yellow. He seems stable as long as he’s keeping pressure on his head wound, but there’s really no way to check for a subdural hematoma. He’s talking and his pupils are reactive and that’s good enough for TK right now.

When TK stands again, he nearly gets a headrush, but he pushes through it. He’s scrambling for another person to help, but he finds that the driver has someone with them already. Magnetically, TK finds himself moving to Carlos’ side, who’s pressing against a woman's abdomen. TK sees the sharp object embedded in her side and he gets that familiar rush of emergency.

“Need any help over here?” he asks Carlos.

Carlos’ gaze snaps up to him. There’s blood up his forearms and on his nice shirt that he picked out to eat sushi with TK in, and now it’s stained. He’ll probably never wear it again. TK swallows past the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, I—”

“I need a doctor!”

Both TK and Carlos turn to the sound of the yelling, finding a child slumped in a woman’s arms.

TK starts tapping Carlos on the shoulder, telling him to switch spots. “Go. Go, go, go. I got this.”

Effortlessly, without a word, TK’s hands replace Carlos’ on the shirt that’s trying to stop the bleeding. TK doesn’t know where it came from. If a bystander is now walking around shirtless, donating his own to pack a stranger’s wound.

“Is—” The woman chokes on the word and TK shushes her, but she shakes her head and grips his wrist. “My boyfriend. Is my— Is he…”

“He’s alive,” TK assures her. He has no idea who her boyfriend is, but the only one that’s DOA is the woman who was pinned.

A ghost of a smile flickers across her face before it scrunches up again. “Good,” she exhales, sounding exhausted. “That’s good.”

The ambulances are here now, blocking the whole street as the back doors fly open. Gurneys hit the pavement and uniformed individuals hop down from the rig in a routine TK was once familiar with. He turns back to the woman to tell her the good news, but her eyes are shut. Panic swirls in TK’s chest and he begins tapping her cheek, leaving a bloody handprint behind.

“Hey, hey, hey. I need help over here!” he shouts.

A moment later, there’s commotion beside him and TK is being told to step out of the way. He’s reluctant to do so, but he knows she’s in good hands, even more so when he hears, “Strand?”

TK’s eyes snap up to the sound of the voice, finding his old captain staring back at him. He was close to retiring when TK was around. He can’t believe he’s still here.

“Wilson,” he exhales. “She didn't code. Passed out, I think,” he explains, and he gets a sharp nod in return.

“We’ll take it from here,” Wilson insists. “We’re supposed to bring the emergencies to you, not the other way around. Get out of here.”

TK swallows hard and nods back. He takes a few steps backward, unable to stop watching as the paramedics begin to work on her. There’s nothing for him to do now, and he’s not quite sure where to go.

“TK.” There’s a tap on his shoulder, firm grasp on his arm. “TK.”

TK turns around, finding his defeated-looking boyfriend behind him. “Babe,” he exhales. Carlos’ hair is a mess and his shirt is even bloodier than before. As are his hands. TK still wants to collapse into him though, but he refrains.

“Hey. You okay?” Carlos asks, searching his eyes.

He mentally catalogs his symptoms. He’s starting to feel a little shaky, but that’s the adrenaline crash more than anything. “I think so.”

Carlos grips his shirt, searching his chest. TK follows his gaze down. He didn’t even realize he was covered in blood too. “None of this is yours, right?”

It takes TK a second to shake his head. “No. You?”

“No,” Carlos echoes. TK sighs and then they both loom around the area. The crowd is already beginning to disperse as a few of the ambulances take off. “They’re getting the last guy loaded up now. The driver,” Carlos says, relaying what he’s seeing.

“What happened?”

“Medical event, I heard.”

TK’s heart sinks. Nothing more than a terribly unfortunate accident all around. “God,” he exhales. The two of them stand in silence as the noise of the scene fills the air—the hissing of the car, the wailing of the sirens, the painful screams. It’s chaos, but it’s organized chaos. Their work is done, not that they were ever required to be here. “I guess we go home now?”

Dinner is out of the question. They should probably eat something, but sitting at a restaurant feels impossible now. They probably wouldn’t even be let in in their state.

Carlos slips his hand into TK’s. “Yeah.”

They get more than one look as they make the journey back to TK’s apartment, where they wordlessly decide to go since it’s closest. TK can’t imagine the picture they paint—the matching looks of horror, the blood. Several people go out of their way to avoid them, and more than one ask if they need help. They shake their heads each time, but don’t offer up any more detail.

When they enter TK’s studio, they head straight to the bathroom. TK wants to throw his clothes in the garbage, but Carlos convinces him to keep them.

“I’ll try to work out the stains,” Carlos tells him, and TK could cry with how kind he is.

“Okay,” TK whispers, unable to offer up anything more.

They step under the warm spray together, taking turns washing the blood off each other’s chests. In his job, it’s not uncommon for TK to wear the tragedy others endure on his skin. That’s in a controlled environment though. He’s always mentally ready for it when he steps through the doors of the ER. Tonight, being caught off guard like that, wasn’t the same, and he can’t shake it. He can’t shake the way life can change so instantly, how those people went from a regular evening—on their way home from work or to meet with friends or to pick up dinner—to gravely injured or worse. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

He knows what happened to his mom, but he didn’t know until now. He didn’t know the chaos that surrounded that sidewalk. He didn’t know how the people who helped her had to scrub her blood from under their nails. He didn’t know about the crowd that likely formed, filming for Internet clout.

When the water shuts off, Carlos herds him out and wraps a fluffy towel around his shoulders. It takes him a minute to realize he’s been asked a question.

“Bed,” TK answers in response to food or sleep. He thinks he’d be sick if he tried to eat something now.

The sun hasn’t set fully yet, but that doesn’t matter as TK lays down in his bed. He twists his arms in the blankets and pulls them up to his chin as Carlos lays down behind him. A moment later, his body is pulled backwards into the cradle of Carlos’ arms and his eyes sting behind his lids.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks him quietly. His voice is only a murmur, and TK wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t spoken directly into his ear.

TK can’t answer yet. He feels Carlos’ lips press against his bare shoulder and TK fumbles for his hand, grabbing it and pulling his arm tighter around him. “That’s how my mom died,” TK confesses.

He hears a sharp intake of breath behind him and TK opens his eyes, staring straight ahead into his kitchen. He can’t make it out in the dark, but there’s a picture of him and his mom on the fridge. Her smile is staring back even though TK can’t see it right now.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Carlos tells him quietly. He hardly ever calls TK that. It’s always ‘babe’. ‘Baby’ makes this moment feel impossibly bigger, and TK impossibly smaller.

“She was walking to work and then she just… died.”

“That’s awful,” Carlos tells him. “I’m sorry you had to relive that today.”

“I didn’t, until we got home,” he clarifies. “Then it all just kinda… hit.”

Carlos snuggles closer and kisses his shoulder and then the back of his neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He’s so kind, so gentle and open, but TK’s eyes fall closed again.

“I think I just want to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t let go,” TK says suddenly, a little desperately. Carlos’ arms around him, trapping him, feel like they’re the only thing holding him together.

“I won’t,” Carlos promises.

***

TK is out of sorts for the next few days.

It’s understandable, but Carlos feels like he’s been left on the outside. After their shift the next day, TK declines his invitation to come over and then the same thing happens the next night. Carlos tells himself it’s not them, but rather TK’s battles that Carlos has no idea about. TK is probably with his dad or wants alone time, but that doesn’t mean he’s not relieved when TK finally shows up at his door.

They hardly talk about it at all. In fact, it’s as if it never happened as they make breakfast for dinner and then take a walk around the neighborhood. TK kisses him when they come back and gives him a blowjob in the entryway and after they change into comfier clothes, they sit out on the fire escape and listen to the sounds of the city. It’s a good night.

It’s as if the other day never happened.

Carlos wonders if those people are in this hospital as he walks in the next morning, or if they ended up somewhere else in the city. He caught a bit about it on a news segment, but other than that no one knows what he and TK endured.

Though TK slept at his place last night, he left early to grab clean clothes from his place. As Carlos walked here, he wondered if it’s too early to offer TK a drawer so they can soak in the extra thirty minutes in bed together. His free time is already limited; he wants as much of TK as he can get.

It’s an odd feeling for someone who is so used to being alone. He thought he’d hate the change to his normal, but TK fits in so seamlessly it’s like he’s always been there. He settles Carlos, like this morning when Carlos sees him hanging around the nurse’s station, smiling at something on Marjan’s phone.

“That’s stunning,” Nancy gushes, peering over Marjan’s other shoulder.

Carlos slings his stethoscope over his neck and comes close, leaning against the counter opposite of them. “What’s stunning?”

The three of them look up. Nancy and Marjan give him friendly smiles hello, while TK’s is a little more mischievous. A smile of ‘hello again’. “Marjan was showing us her dress for the gala,” Nancy explains.

Carlos first heard of the gala a few weeks ago. He’s familiar with events like these, those made for the doctors to schmooze with donors and talk about all the good work they do. It’s essentially begging for money to help sick people, where these donors could donate without having to be talked into it. They’re never Carlos’ favorite events to go to, but he understands that he’s expected to.

Marjan turns her phone around, showing Carlos the picture of her magenta long-sleeved, floor-length evening gown. The skirt is satin and the top half is beaded and Nancy is right, it is stunning.

“Oh, wow. That is beautiful, Marjan,” he compliments, and she thanks him. “So, this is formal black tie, huh?” he asks.

“Oh yes. If you don’t have a tux I suggest you rent one,” Paul chimes in from a nearby computer.

It sounds like he’ll have to be making time for a tux fitting, then. “Right.”

“Meanwhile us losers will be stuck at home, not invited to the ball,” Nancy sighs dramatically, and Carlos watches as Paul rolls his eyes and spins around on his chair.

“I told you that one of you can be my plus one,” Paul reminds her.

She looks disgusted by the idea. “And spend a night in an uncomfortable dress talking to stuffy higher ups when I could be at home in my pajamas eating drunken noodles? No thanks.”

“Tradition still going strong?” Marjan asks, and Nancy grins.

“Hell yeah. Right, TK?”

His gaze cuts to Carlos, uncertain in a way that would be easily missed if you weren’t looking right at him, if you didn’t spend as much time with him as Carlos does. Before anyone else can notice, TK pastes on a grin and looks at her. “Right.”

Carlos wonders if he’s imagining the way his voice sounds strained.

“We get plus ones?” Carlos asks carefully, trying not to give anything away with his tone.

He didn’t really consider that possibility. The event is for physicians in a way that Carlos doesn’t really understand. Everyone else does just as important work, but they don’t get the VIP invite to an evening of champagne flutes and old money. Carlos overlooked the fact that doctors have spouses or partners, and they surely would be invited. He wonders if a fair share of nurses, techs, and other staff do end up making it to the event that way. It creates a whole new set of worries for him because he does have a partner he’d want by his side, but not at an event with the entire hospital. He hopes TK understands that. He’s been so good so far and Carlos knows he’s asking a lot.

“Yeah, but since these three don’t want to go, Marj and I will be going solo too. You can hang with us,” Paul explains, thinking he’s presenting Carlos with an easy solution.

Carlos swallows and sneaks a glance at TK, who’s not looking back. He’s a little too intently focused on conversation with Nancy about what movie series they’ll binge that night and how they can convince Mateo to do something other than Marvel. Carlos looks back at Paul.

“Cool. Sounds good.”

“Alright everyone,” Dr. Vega calls out, ending their conversation before Carlos can think too much about how he went about it all wrong. “All beds are occupied this morning and we’ve got about a dozen people in the waiting room.”

It’s par for the course at this point and Carlos pulls out his notepad, scribbling down bits of info. It’s all in the chart, but sometimes Carlos finds that it’s easier to flip through his notes when he’s in a patient’s room than take the time to log into the computer.

“And this is Luke,” Grace introduces once Tommy makes it through all the patients. “He’s a pre-med student at NYU who’s going to hang out here for the day. Luke, you’ll be with Dr. Reyes for the morning.”

Shit. Carlos had completely forgotten about it. He knew about this, was informed of it weeks ago, but with everything that had been going on the past couple days, it snuck up on him. He collects himself, telling himself it’s fine. There’s nothing he had to do in advance. He’s here to do his job as always, except today he’ll just have a little more thinking out loud to do.

Carlos takes a half-step forward. “Nice to meet you, Luke. You’ll be with me.”

He looks so young, and Carlos wonders if that’s how he looked at 20 when he was trying to gain experience. He vows to be welcoming regardless of how busy it gets, to not make this kid feel like he’s in the way.

“So, Luke. What year are you?” he asks as he checks the board to see his assignments.

“Uh, sophomore. I’m applying to schools next year.”

Carlos nods. “Anywhere you’ve got your eye on?”

Luke gives him a nervous laugh. “Anywhere I get in.”

Carlos gets that. His dream was always UT, but he applied to at least ten. He would’ve taken any school that let him in.

“Hopefully today won’t be anything too intense,” Carlos tells him as he looks over the board. “We’ll start in room six. Fifty-year-old male with leg pain.”

Luke nods rapidly, looking overwhelmed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t quiz you. Don’t feel like you have to make note of anything. Just get a feel for how things work around here.”

It’s everything Carlos wishes he would’ve heard as a student. This kid isn’t even in medical school yet. He’s here to observe more than anything. He’ll learn about the specifics later. When Carlos was in his role, it would’ve done wonders for his anxiety to know what was going to be expected of him at the start of the day.

“Thanks, Dr. Reyes.”

Carlos smiles as he nods. “Of course.”

Carlos knocks on the door to the exam room before sliding it open. “Jason, I’m Dr. Reyes. I have a student here with me, is it okay if he observes?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Carlos goes about his exam. He doesn’t take much time to explain things to Luke; he plans on recapping everything when he’s not in the moment. For now, he makes note of the man’s extremely edematous leg. It’s warm to the touch and he’s running a fever, and when Carlos asks to take the man’s sock off, he’s met with several nearly blackened toes.

“Excuse me,” Luke mumbles before he swiftly exits the room.

Carlos frowns, glancing back at the retreating figure of the student. He finishes up his exam and charts a few orders, including Paging the vascular team letting the IMC charge nurse know he’ll need to be admitted, and then hunts down Luke. Carlos finds him in the staff break room, sitting at a table with an orange juice and TK.

They’re chatting quietly when Carlos enters and then when Luke notices Carlos is there, he sits up straighter.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Reyes.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

“Just got a little light-headed, but I’m fine. I’m ready to get back out there.”

Carlos holds out a hand, approaching the table and taking a seat. “Hold on, you can rest for a minute.”

“Blood pressure is all good,” TK tells him quietly and Carlos meets his eye.

“Thanks, TK.”

TK nods and then stands, laying a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Glad you’re feeling better.”

Once they’re alone, Luke drops his head to his hands. “I’m so sorry. God, this is so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be. It happens,” Carlos says. They see a lot of things come through these doors and gangrene definitely isn’t pretty. Carlos has become desensitized to the sights and smells in these halls, but he can’t talk about work with people who aren’t in healthcare. He knows that if someone isn’t used to this, it’s a lot. Luke glances over at him like he doesn’t believe him though. “I passed out the first time I scrubbed in for surgery. Almost knocked out a whole tray of tools.”

Luke’s eyes go wide. “Seriously?”

“Serious,” Carlos answers. He wanted to die from embarrassment on the spot and the surgeon on the case looked at him like he wasn’t cut out for it. Carlos vowed at that moment that he was going to make it, and he was going to be a better example for students.

“I promise I know what I’m getting into, it’s just… I don’t want to do emergency med,” Luke confesses in a rush, and it’s Carlos’ turn to act surprised. “I want family med, but my parents know Grace so it was easier to get in here.”

“Ah,” Carlos says in understanding. “You’ll just have to get through your emergency med rotation in med school and then you never have to step foot here again.”

“Sorry for wasting your time,” Luke mumbles, and Carlos shakes his head.

“You’re not wasting my time. Don’t worry. Everyone has the rotation they hate. I hated every day of my infectious disease rotation.”

This gets Luke to chuckle and then he sips his juice box. It’s nearly empty by the sound of it. “Is it all worth it? All the years you put in?” Luke asks after a moment.

Carlos inhales deeply. He won’t lie to the kid and say it’s easy. It’s the hardest thing Carlos has ever done by far and it’s true that some people find that it’s not worth the reward. “Only you can answer that question, but I will tell you that every hard day I had to get to this point was worth it. Being here, treating patients, is the happiest I’ve ever been and I work seventy hours a week,” he answers truthfully, with a small smile, and Luke looks at him like he’s assessing whether that could be true for himself too.

When Carlos thinks about his life, though, he thinks about the reasons he loves it so much. It’s true that he loves his job and being here, but if this was all he did, he doesn’t think he’d call this ‘the happiest he’s ever been’. He thinks about TK, their friends, and how the people that allow him to unwind is what gets him through these long days under the fluorescent lights.

“But don’t let yourself go through it alone,” Carlos adds. “I spent too long thinking focusing only on medicine was the way to get through it.”

Luke shakes his head. “I love my girlfriend too much for that.”

Carlos smiles. “Good.”

“She’s going to be a nurse,” Luke adds.

“Sounds like you two make a good pair then.”

“Do you have time to have a life in residency?” Luke blurts out, and Carlos chuckles.

“Some, yeah.” He doesn’t know this kid. He’ll probably never see him again, and the words roll around in his head before they’re tumbling out. “I make sure to make time for my partner. It’s doable. And being with someone in healthcare makes it easier; they get it.”

Luke looks relieved at this, and Carlos feels it. It’s the first time he’s ever told someone about his relationship, even in the vaguest sense.

“Thanks, Dr. Reyes.”

Carlos smiles. “You ready to get back out there?”

Luke inhales deeply and stands. “Yeah. God, I hope it’s something like a heart attack.”

“I’ll see what I can find.”

***

TK has come to the conclusion that the hospital is holding Carlos hostage. It’s the only answer for why TK hasn’t seen him outside of that place this whole week. Sure, Carlos is a highly trained, life-saving doctor, but he’s also TK’s boyfriend and TK misses him. He thinks that should count for something.

He wanders aimlessly around his apartment tonight, taking the time to dry the dishes after washing them instead of letting them air dry just for something to do. It’s a little pathetic really, but TK has gotten so used to their routine together that he feels a little lost having to occupy his time on his own for the past several nights. He’s caught up on the shows he’s wanted to watch, done laundry, cleaned his apartment, restocked his kitchen, worked out, and visited his dad’s. There’s only so much TK can distract himself with before he gets downright cranky with the people of New York and their emergencies occupying Carlos’ time.

When TK still hasn’t heard from Carlos by nine, he decides to call it a night. It’s early and he doesn’t have to work tomorrow, but the sooner he goes to sleep, the quicker he gets to a point where he can actually see his boyfriend. His phone lighting up the room pulls TK from his cacoon of blankets. He fumbles for it on the nightstand, hoping it’s Carlos telling him he’s done. He smiles when he sees the message.

Are you still awake?

Barely.

Unlock your door and then you can fall asleep.

TK bites back a smile, but he’s already out of bed. When he returns, he responds.

That’s dangerous

I’ll be there soon. Need to see you

TK’s heart bursts with warmth as he lays back down and waits for Carlos’ arrival. He doesn’t know when this happened, when he went from perfectly content with his life to wishing Carlos was by his side every second of the day. He’s fully in it, completely immersed in this relationship and fuck, he’s happy. He’s grinning to himself in the dark at just the thought of Carlos wanting to be with him.

He didn’t realize how much he missed being in a relationship until he was in one again, and he’s never been in one as good as this.

TK doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears the door open and close, followed by the flip of the deadbolt. TK stays bundled in his blankets as he listens to Carlos drop his things and then his clothes. He loses all of them, which is a welcome surprise TK finds when Carlos slides into the sheets behind him. He wraps TK up entirely, pulling him back into his chest and kissing along his neck.

TK hums happily, settling into Carlos’ warmth. He reaches back, his hand connecting with Carlos’ head and scratching at his curls. “Bad day?” he questions.

“No.”

TK pauses. “Oh. Then— oh.” TK grins when Carlos presses his hips forward. “You’re horny.”

Carlos trails kisses along TK’s neck and slips a hand under his shirt. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I saw you this morning,” TK teases, and Carlos practically growls. It’s a deep, throaty noise that goes straight to TK’s cock.

“Fine, I haven’t seen your dick all week.”

TK snorts a laugh. “Knew you only wanted me for my body.”

Carlos’ hot tongue works its way to right below TK’s ear before he murmurs, “Do you wanna fuck or not?”

TK’s whole body shudders and he practically whimpers. “Yes, please.”

TK quickly shoves his boxers down his thighs. He’s too lazy to get them all the way off right now, but Carlos’ cock still slides against his ass and catches on his hole and TK moans loudly.

“Oh god, fuck me.”

“Need to open you up.”

TK shakes his head into the pillow. “No. No time; I need you.”

That causes Carlos to pause and he strokes TK’s side. “Babe, I’m not going to take you without any prep. Not when it’s been this long.”

TK lets out a pained sound and logically, he knows that, but he wishes he and Carlos could just have each other without all the practicalities sometimes. He doesn’t need Carlos inside of him, he supposes. There are plenty of ways to make this good. TK squeezes his thighs together and pushes back.

“Fuck my thighs,” he begs.

There’s a moment of hesitation from behind him before Carlos is telling him to grab the lube. TK blindly shoves it back into his hands and he listens to the wet squelch of Carlos slick himself up as TK shoves off his boxers. He doesn’t worry about his shirt; Carlos already has it shoved up to his armpits already.

When Carlos presses against him again, his thick cock slides right under TK’s balls. TK shivers and Carlos lets out a breathy moan into TK’s shoulder.

“Get yourself off, baby. Use my body.”

“In the morning, we’re going to take our time,” Carlos murmurs as he snaps his hips forward, and TK laughs through a moan.

“I’m holding you to that.”

In the next moment, Carlos reaches forward to grip TK’s cock, stripping it in time with his thrusts. It’s late and they’re both wound up. It’s fast and rough and sweaty and a little animalistic, and TK shouts as he comes. Carlos grunts and moans and pants into his neck until TK squeezes his legs tighter and Carlos spills between him.

TK hums happily when it’s over, rolling over and flopping onto Carlos’ body. A hand lands in his hair, carding through it.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

The words tumble out of TK’s mouth. He didn’t know for sure he’d see Carlos tonight, but Carlos warm and cuddly and present in his bed is better than any alternative. He’s so comfortable with Carlos in his life and space. How easily they fit together scares him a little.

“Me too.” Carlos kisses his forehead. “Hey, tomorrow can you do something with me?”

“Anything,” TK mumbles. Carlos’ hand feels too good and his eyes slip shut.

“I need to rent a tux for the gala. Help me pick one out?”

Just like that, some of the warmth dissolves, like he’d been watching the sunset over the water until a cool breeze came in and unsettled him. Carlos might fit perfectly with him, but he’s still a mismatched piece in Carlos’ life.

***

“What about this one?”

Carlos looks past his own reflection in the three mirrors to see TK sitting on the chairs behind him. “That looks nice,” he compliments, and Carlos frowns.

“That’s what you said about the last one.”

“The last one looked nice too.”

Carlos groans. He smooths his hands down the lapels of his tux. TK’s right, this one does look the same as the last one. Simple, black. The cut is a little different, but he doesn’t know enough to notice it. He could probably get any one of these and it’d be fine, but this gala feels like it’s about more than donations for him. He’ll be in a room with just about every physician—every one that’s not working that night. They’re people he hopes will be his colleagues one day and while he’s sure they don’t care about the specific cut of his tux either, he wants to make sure he’s looking his best.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about clothes,” TK muses, and Carlos sighs.

He turns around and steps down from the circular platform in front of the mirror, hoping the salesman doesn’t choose this moment to wander over and see if he needs anything else. “I don’t, I just… I hate these kinds of things. I always feel out of place.”

It doesn’t help that he’s the new guy as well. Everyone will know someone there, and Carlos will know about three.

TK’s brows pinch together and he gives Carlos a look. “You’re perfectly at place there.”

“No, I’m not. I’m not good at… selling myself for money.”

He doesn’t mention the impression he wants to make on others, of his dreams of being an attending in a few years. He doesn’t want to end up in this awkward dance of not mentioning why it is that Carlos wants to stay in New York and keep TK guessing if it’s because of him, or actually tell him before it’s too soon to plan a whole future together.

This reason is true as well. He feels awkward and clammy at the thought of old ladies flirting with him and having to respond in a charming manner. He doesn’t want to come off as cold and standoffish and he fears that’s how he will be.

TK winks at him, grinning. “Well, I’d hope not.”

It takes Carlos a second to remember what he said, and then understand TK’s joke. “TK.”

TK pats his thighs and stands from his chair, coming over to Carlos. “Babe, you’ll be fine. It’s not your personal responsibility to get donations.”

“I know,” Carlos mumbles.

TK steps closer, curling his hands in Carlos’ jacket. “Besides. It doesn’t matter what kind of tux you wear, all eyes will be on you regardless.”

Carlos’ swallows hard. They’ve avoided talking about it the entire time they’ve been here, that TK won’t be there with him. He could be. Carlos just has to say the word and TK can be here trying tuxes on with him, but they continue on like this. Carlos the focus and TK the observer. He hates it, but he can’t make himself change it.

“The only eyes I care about are yours,” Carlos promises. It doesn’t matter if zero or ten people hit on him or stare at him, TK is the one Carlos is going home to.

TK doesn’t offer a response and the moment feels awkward. Neither meets the other’s eye for a second and it’s unspoken that TK’s eyes won’t be there to see him.

“Paul and Marjan will be there,” TK adds. “You can hang out with them.”

It doesn’t make Carlos feel better. “Yeah.”

TK pats his hip and takes his seat again. “Try the navy one.”

He dutifully returns to the fitting room, stripping the black tux.

“I’ve always wondered what happens at these things,” TK muses from outside the door, and Carlos’ heart sinks further.

“It’ll probably be boring.”

“My dad will be there. You’ll have to let me know if he has a date.”

Carlos pauses. He didn’t consider that he’d have to run into his boyfriend’s dad and his boyfriend’s dad’s date all alone. “Is he seeing someone?”

“I never really know with him.”

Carlos isn’t really sure what that means and he doesn’t think he wants to know. Instead, he focuses on pulling on the new suit. He makes sure it’s on correctly before he steps out. TK’s eyes rake over him instantly.

“This is the one. You look very handsome.”

“Thanks,” Carlos murmurs.

“All the rich old ladies will be hitting on you. Thinking you’re some hot, eligible bachelor.”

Carlos feels worse by the minute. He’s hurting TK—he knows he is—but every time he thinks he should just blurt the words out, they shrivel up and die in his throat. He thinks of walking into a grand ballroom with TK on his arm and having every doctor he admires at this hospital turn to him in confusion, or disgust.

He thinks of the whispers he had to endure at the last hospital. The hushed conversations that stopped when he entered the room. The looks when they thought he couldn’t see them.

“I’m not one,” he says unnecessarily, and TK just hums.

All through the process of putting his street clothes back on and making his purchase, TK keeps dropping little hints. He doesn’t remember the last time he wore a tux. He hopes he doesn’t feel like a third wheel with Nancy and Mateo. He’s craving a shrimp cocktail. With each one of Carlos’ hums or smiles, TK’s spirit dims further and by the time they’re leaving the store, TK tells him he’s going to spend the night at his own place and Carlos isn’t even surprised.

He has no one to blame for the ache in his chest besides himself.

Chapter Text

Carlos has picked up and put down his phone no less than ten times already. He thinks he works up the courage, his shaking finger hovers over the name, and then he second guesses himself and aborts his mission.

He already had to do this. He’s already had to come out to his parents once, he shouldn’t have to do it again. But this is the plan his mind decided when he laid alone in his bed, with TK in another part of the city.

TK wants to come to the gala, Carlos wants TK to come to the gala, but he’s not out. Furthermore, he’s not out with TK. That’s a step beyond what they’re doing now. Sure, they’re dating, but it’s different from out-in-public-people-know dating. And if they’re advancing to that level of a relationship, if they’re becoming serious, TK should know about him. About his past, his baggage, his faults. He should know what he’s getting into before he commits to a future with Carlos.

Granted, Carlos doesn’t have to talk to his parents to do all of that, but it would feel like a missing piece. Besides, if he’s brave enough to call his parents and speak about the forbidden topic of their son being gay, then Carlos can show up at his boyfriend’s door with a bouquet of flowers and ask him to the gala.

The gala that’s in less than twelve hours.

The defeated look on TK’s face yesterday when he accepted that Carlos wasn’t going to ask has stuck with him. It’s more than that though. Carlos doesn’t want to go alone. In fact, the night sounds so much better with TK by his side. It might even be fun with TK by his side. So Carlos is having a hard time figuring out what’s holding him back.

It’s cliche, really. His windows are cracked, it’s a beautiful Saturday morning, and Carlos has decided he’s going to fix the things that are wrong in his life. Starting with a phone call.

After probably his twentieth lap from the windows to the front door, Carlos mutters, “Fuck it,” and picks up his phone again. This time, he doesn’t allow himself to hesitate as he hits his mother’s name. Only when it’s ringing does it hit him that he’s doing this right now. He could hang up, but then she’d call back and ask him if he tried to reach out. He could say he accidentally dialed her, or he did but then got called to go into work and couldn’t talk. A million excuses run through his mind, but none of them feel right. He’s tired. He doesn’t want any more games.

“Carlitos, hi!”

“Hi, Mama,” Carlos responds, hoping his voice sounds even. “How are you?”

“Oh, trying to get your father to come with me to the farmers market.”

Carlos gives a courtesy chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad at a farmers market.”

“Hence the convincing,” she answers, and Carlos hums. “What about you? How are you doing? Are you off today?”

“I’m off, yeah. And I’m good.” He takes a breath. He needs to do this before he loses his nerve. “Actually, is Dad around?”

“Yes, yes. He’s just in the other room. Is everything okay?”

He hears how her voice becomes frantic all of a sudden. That’s the last thing he wants, to go into this conversation with everyone already on edge.

“Yes. Can you get him?”

There’s some rustling on the other end of the line, and then the muffled sound of his mother calling for Gabriel, like she’d pressed her phone against her shirt for a moment. Then, Carlos hears the sound of his dad’s voice for the first time in weeks. Maybe it’s been months.

“Carlos, what’s going on?”

He stops pacing and stares at the picture on the table under his TV. It’s of all six of them—his friends, his boyfriend, and him—that day they toured as much of the city as they could. He looks undeniably happy with his arm thrown around TK’s shoulders and the New York skyline behind them. This is his life and he’s grown to love it so much while he’s been here. He wants his parents to know it. To know him.

“I’m gay.”

There’s silence. Confusion. Probably deja vu. “Um—”

“And I’m sorry I lied to you about Iris and our relationship, but she knew the whole time. She knows that I’m gay and she loves me and I need to know if you still love me too,” he exhales. He didn’t plan on saying that part, but this family has gone on long enough without saying what’s on their minds.

“Carlitos,” his mom says, sounding tearful. “Of course we still love you.”

“You’re our son,” his father adds, and Carlos’ legs feel weak.

He sinks down onto the couch behind him as his whole body feels shaky. “I love you too,” he says quietly. He missed his parents, more than he wanted to put into words. “I’m sorry we haven’t spoken much since I left.”

“We didn’t—” His mom stops herself before she starts again. “We didn’t know that you still weren’t feeling seen. We’re sorry too,” she says tearfully.

“You just…” Carlos’ leg starts to bounce and he forces himself to calm down. “Seemed disappointed when I told you everything.”

When Carlos got a phone call from his mom, with her telling him all about the ladies at church gossiping about him being unfaithful and a homosexual, Carlos thought he was going to throw up. He begged his mom to understand that it’s not what she thinks, and then sped the whole way to his parents’ house. His explanation that Iris knew the whole time had eased their worries that they didn’t raise their son to be an adulterer, but Carlos felt like he gave them an entirely different reason to be let down.

“We were,” Carlos’ father says, and his stomach drops right through the floor.

“I understand—”

“Carlos, no,” Gabriel says gruffly. “We were disappointed in ourselves for making you think you had to hide from us.”

Carlos feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. He doesn’t think they’ve ever been this honest with each other, and Carlos is glad they’re doing this over the phone. He needs the security blanket that comes from not being able to be seen.

“I didn’t just come for different work experiences,” Carlos blurts out, adding one more confession to the conversation. “I thought… I thought I needed distance from you. That you wanted distance from me. And I was so embarrassed to show my face at St. David’s after what happened.”

“We never wanted that,” Andrea whispers fiercely. “I’m just so ashamed that…” She cuts herself off and Carlos can almost see her shaking her head at herself. “Are you happy in New York?”

The question catches Carlos off guard, but he doesn’t have to think about his answer. He can easily give them one less reason to worry. “I am,” he promises, and then he thinks about why he’s so happy. “And… I have a boyfriend. His name is TK. You’d like him.”

“Bring him home with you next time you come,” Andrea says cheerfully, and Carlos ducks his head as he smiles. A few tears finally escape and he wipes his cheeks. “And don’t wait too long.”

“I won’t,” Carlos promises.

Now, he just has to tell TK.

***

TK’s not moping. He’s not even mad, not really. He knows he can’t go to the gala with Carlos, he’s known since the morning after they first hooked up, and he’s okay with that. Truly. This thing between them has always been at Carlos’ pace.

It’s just… he feels a little hidden right now. They could go as friends; Mateo and Nancy could accept the offer to go with Paul and Marjan and they could all go as one big group. There’s no reason TK has to get left behind tonight except for the fact that Carlos never brought it up. TK’s good enough for fashion, but not to have a conversation with.

He feels like the loser who got ditched at prom, which isn’t fair. He knows it’s not fair and he’s being a little childish about the whole thing, but fuck. TK wanted to go. He doesn’t mind events like these. He likes getting dressed up and eating fancy food and guessing which couples are having affairs. He’d have liked to go with Carlos. To walk in together and slow dance to the orchestra and to have everyone know that he bagged a ten.

Instead, he’s laying on his couch watching Cash Cab and yelling at the contestants who go for the video or nothing bonus challenge. He hasn’t even changed out of his pajamas yet and he’s mentally drafting a text to Nancy on how to get out of going to her place tonight.

But he’s not moping.

When the knock on the door comes, TK’s half-tempted to message the Doordash guy and ask him to bring it directly to him on the couch for an extra $5, but that feels like a new low. He shoves his blanket to the side and groans as he comes to his feet. But it’s not a 50-year-old balding Dave on the other side of the door.

“Hey,” Carlos says, giving TK a small smile. “You busy?”

“No,” TK blurts out.

They’ve seen each other at work, obviously, and they’ve texted here and there, but they haven’t actually spent any substantial time together since they were tux shopping and TK is very aware of that right now. Part of that has to do with the fact that Carlos has been worked to the bone this week, but the other part feels like TK’s fault.

Carlos is probably here to treat him to breakfast and remind him that he has a place in TK’s life, even if it’s not at the gala.

Carlos smiles. “Good, let’s go.”

TK looks down at his clothes. He can’t go anywhere, not like this. He has bagels coming. “Go where exactly.”

“You need a tux,” Carlos says, like it’s obvious, and TK feels like he skipped an episode.

“Uh, for what?”

“The gala.”

TK frowns. He shifts on his feet and parts his lips, intending to question Carlos, but he doesn’t know what to ask first. “That’s in like… eight hours,” he responds stupidly. As if the time constraint is the only thing wrong.

Carlos shoves his hands into his pockets and nods. “Right. So we really need to get going.”

TK’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. This feels impulsive, wrong. TK does not want to force Carlos to bring him, to out himself. “Carlos—”

“TK, I’m sure that I—”

“I have a tux,” TK interrupts, and Carlos’ brows raise.

“Oh.”

They stand for a moment in silence before TK swings the door wide open, allowing Carlos into his messy apartment. Clearly, they have a lot to talk about. “Want to come in?”

Carlos exhales. “Yes, please.”

TK brushes a kiss to his cheek as he enters and then leads him to the couch where the blanket lays and Ben Bailey is still firing off questions as he navigates the streets outside TK’s building. Carlos doesn’t blink at the mess, but he sits at the edge of the cushion like he doesn’t want to invade TK’s space too much.

“The reason I came to New York is because someone saw me kissing a man and everyone at the hospital thought I was cheating on my wife,” he blurts out, and TK blinks at him. He hasn’t even sat down yet.

“Um.”

Carlos’ face falls and then he buries it in his hands. “God, sorry,” he mumbles and then looks at TK again. “That was an awful way to describe it, let me explain. She’s not my wife. Well, she was, but not really—”

“Carlos. Breathe,” TK interrupts, letting his feet carry him forward until he’s sitting down next to him. He wasn’t sure when he’d get the details of Carlos’ past, if it would come in little bits that he’d assemble like a puzzle or if the story would come pouring out. It seems the latter is happening now and TK grabs his hands. “Start at the beginning.”

Carlos searches his eyes, desperate for safety, and TK softly smiles at him. “You remember Iris,” Carlos says.

“Of course.”

“It’s true that she was my best friend, my only real friend in Texas. We met in med school and I was not out to a single person other than the few people I had dated in college who were no longer in my life.”

“Okay,” TK says slowly.

“So, I’m spending all this time with her and my parents start to make assumptions.”

TK presses his lips together in a sad smile as his heart sinks for his boyfriend. “Ah.”

Carlos keeps barreling forward. “And a few years go by and my love life doesn’t exist and Iris is out of med school and she knows I’m gay and I didn’t think my parents would ever accept the idea of me being gay, so I ask her to marry me,” he says, and TK feels the room shift. Is this why Carlos wants to hide? Is he still trying to keep up pretenses?

“Are you still…”

Carlos looks at him in confusion, and then his eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no. We divorced before I came to New York.”

TK blinks a few times and takes slow breaths. Everything is settling again. There’s still a lot to wrap his mind around, namely that his boyfriend was previously someone’s husband, but it wasn’t a real marriage. It was a desperate plea for help, to be loved, and it only makes TK’s heart hurt for the man he loves.

Woah.

He loves Carlos? Of course he does. Every feeling wouldn’t be magnified if he didn’t love Carlos. Admitting that to himself feels as easy as inserting an antecubital fossa IV. He could do it in his sleep. It’s effortless, born into him, part of who he is.

“We both knew it wouldn’t be real,” Carlos continues, oblivious to TK’s epiphany. “But it would please my parents and it would give her some security she needed. Everyone in our lives and at the hospital thought she was my wife for real. We were the only two that knew it wasn’t.”

TK strokes his thumb over Carlos’ knuckles. “That sounds lonely.”

Carlos pauses, considering this as if he’s never been allowed to before. “It was,” he admits quietly. “Iris and I… and I mean we both dated. I never had anything serious, but I went on a date with this guy. And it was stupid,” he chastises, shaking his head at himself like he’s reliving it. “I was stupid because I didn’t think there was anyone around, but we kissed in public. Someone from the hospital saw.”

TK can already sense where this is going and he scoots closer to Carlos. “Oh, baby.”

“Everyone thought I was cheating on my wife and then my parents found out and they thought the same and that’s how I had to come out to them. I had to somehow explain how it wasn’t real and I’m gay and Iris knows and it… it was all too much,” he whispers, and TK’s whole chest aches. Somewhere along the way after meeting Carlos, his pain became TK’s.

“How did they react?”

Carlos’ brows pinch together, creating that little crease. TK still wants to be in his life when that crease is a permanent line etched into his skin. “They were confused. I don’t blame them.”

“How did they react to you being gay?”

“They didn’t say much,” Carlos mumbles, which adds up with the rest of the story Carlos told him about his coming out.

“And this guy… was he supportive? I mean did he help you through it?”

Carlos huffs a humorless laugh. “No. I barely knew him. We only went on a few dates, definitely not my boyfriend and I pretty much ghosted him after that.”

“Oh—” A knock at the door interrupts him. “Shit. I… bagels,” he mumbles as he stands. He presses a kiss to the top of Carlos’ head and goes to the door. The Broad Nosh paper bag is sitting in front of his door, and TK snatches it before returning to Carlos.

“Asiago?” TK offers, pulling one out. It’s still warm, and Carlos’ expression goes from surprised to touched.

“My favorite,” he answers and TK smiles.

“I know. I listen,” he teases, and Carlos grows soft.

“I know you do.” Carlos holds the bagel in his hands, picking at one of the edges and popping it into his mouth with his eyes downcast. After a minute, he finally looks at TK. “I wanted you to have all the pieces, to know what you’re getting into with me. I know you want to go to the gala with me and I want you by my side, but you deserve to know everything before we start this for real, and I needed some time to work up the courage.”

TK loves this big, beautiful, slightly dumb man. “Carlos. We’ve already started this thing for real. I… care about you so much. I’m in it with you, baby. So it’s a little too late for that.”

It’s not the time for a love confession. Not yet.

Carlos blinks a few times. “Oh.”

“Don’t try to save me from you. With you is where I feel safe,” TK whispers, and Carlos’ eyes look a little misty before he closes them and grins.

“You weren’t kidding, you do like sappy.”

“Carlos,” TK chuckles.

Carlos inhales, focusing those soulful eyes back on TK. “Thank you, for saying all that. And for being patient with me.”

“Always,” TK murmurs.

Carlos grasps his cheeks, drawing him forward for a long kiss. TK sinks into it, falling into the welcoming warmth that is his boyfriend. With Carlos resting against his shoulder and TK leaning his head on top of Carlos’, Carlos tells him that he called his parents earlier.

TK sits upright. “You did?”

Carlos looks at him, full of wonder like he can’t believe it happened. TK assumes it went well then. “Yeah. I think we’re more on the same page now.”

TK’s heart bursts with joy for Carlos. As much as Carlos tried to act like it was fine, he knew it cut deep to not have his parents' approval. Hearing that they’ve fixed it, or at least are on the path, allows TK to let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Oh, I’m so happy, baby,” TK gushes, and then the reality of this conversation sinks in. “I guess I’m going to a gala.”

Carlos grins wide and bright. “Yes, you are.”

TK can’t let himself get too excited about it yet. He doesn’t want this to be some sort of knee-jerk reaction. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Carlos’ shoulders slump and he hits him with a puppy dog look that one might think successful, intelligent Dr. Reyes isn’t capable of making. TK knows better. “Oh god, please come with me, TK. I hate these things. I don’t want to go alone.”

TK smiles, leaning forward to kiss Carlos. “I'll be there.”

Before he knows it, Carlos is tackling him back to the couch and attacking his neck with kisses. “Since we don’t have to go shopping…”

TK laughs, swatting his shoulder. “Hold on, cowboy. I should call Nancy.”

Carlos eases up. “Make it quick,” he requests, and TK fixes him with a look that he hopes says ‘you’re trouble’.

He manages to locate his phone from the other side of the couch and calls Nancy. He hopes she’s not too pissed.

“What’s up?” she answers after a few rings.

TK’s feet are in Carlos’ lap and Carlos is stroking the soft skin over his malleolus. TK can’t tell her exactly what he’s up to right now, but she’ll know soon enough.

“Hey, I’m not going to make it tonight,” TK tells her with his gaze firmly locked with Carlos’.

He can practically feel her annoyance through the phone. “You cannot bail. It’s tradition.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I’m going to be Carlos’ plus one tonight. You two should really accept Paul and Marjan’s offer and we can all hang out there.”

Nancy huffs. “You really want to spend your night there?”

Before TK can answer, Carlos leans forward and snatches the phone from his grasp. “Well, he can’t leave his boyfriend without a date, so…”

TK’s jaw drops as Nancy shrieks, “Your what?”

He needs Carlos. Like right now.

“See you there!” he calls out.

“You bet your ass you will, I need information, Strand. Mateo!”

TK ends the call and tosses the phone a second before Carlos is on him again. Their lips collide, hungry and aching, as their hands roam. “She’s gonna kill me,” TK mumbles between kisses.

“It’s okay. I’m a doctor.”

TK grins. “Hell yeah you are.”

***

Carlos feels like he’s in a dream.

He’s a kid, hearing stories about kingdoms and dragons and fairy tales. There are scenes from his sisters’ pre-teen rom-coms about a girl at a ball with a prince, and those scenes follow him into his dreams at night and the prince would be the one on his arm. He’s a teenager, daydreaming about a scenario he’d never live out, about walking into his high school prom with a boy on his arm and no one batting an eye.

Now, he’s an adult, and there’s a man on his arm as they enter the ballroom of a swanky hotel in Manhattan. It’s not a dream though. TK is warm beside him, holding his arm for a comforting touch, but also to make no mistake of how they’re presenting themselves. Carlos’ heart is pounding in his chest as if they’ll walk into the room and everyone will turn around and gasp, pointing a finger at him.

That doesn’t happen, of course. In fact, it’s all a little anticlimactic. A server offers them champagne, which TK turns down so Carlos does too, and they keep walking in further to the jazz-filled room that has small tables set up for well-dressed older people to be talked into opening their checkbooks.

“I hope they have crab cakes,” TK murmurs from beside him, and the comment is so ridiculously, adorably TK that it breaks the tension building in Carlos’ body.

“We will find you a crab cake,” he promises. Even if they don’t have any here, Carlos knows he’ll find a way to get one to TK tonight. He’s that kind of person. Or maybe it’s TK that makes him that kind of person. Carlos would do anything for this man.

Before he has to decide where they should go, he spots Nancy and Mateo. Nancy dashes over immediately in her heels and satin, floor-length black gown. “What the hell is this?” she questions, earning her a few alarmed and rude glares from nearby observers.

She practically rolls her eyes. “Oh, it’s not because they’re gay,” she waves off, and Carlos nearly chokes on his champagne. Nancy pins her gaze on TK again. “It’s because my work bestie lied to me.”

“Nancy,” TK mumbles.

“I thought I was your work bestie,” Mateo pipes up and Nancy shushes him.

“It was me,” Carlos interrupts. “I was the one who wanted to keep it quiet.”

Nancy eyes him quietly. He’s seen her strong arm grown men back into bed and shut down the most inappropriate comments, and right now Carlos gets it. He has a feeling he’s about to be on the receiving end of ‘hurt my best friend and I’ll…’ speech and he’ll do nothing but stand here and take it.

“And now you’re not,” she says slowly, but it comes out like a question. A question of why now, perhaps.

“No, I’m not,” he states firmly, resisting the urge to look around the room and see how many people are staring at him with a man. “Have you seen TK? Obviously I want to show him off.”

This time she does roll her eyes. “Oh god, you two are gross,” she mutters, but it feels like a win for Carlos when he catches her smile.

Beside him, TK leans in closer and bumps their shoulders as he grins, and then creates an inch of space again. Carlos is grateful for TK to be able to read what he’s comfortable with, for them to be on the same page about PDA. There’s not hiding who TK is to him, but then there’s hanging all over each other to the point where people are disgusted for a different reason. Carlos doesn’t want to be the latter.

A moment later, Paul and Marjan join them and another round of hellos and interrogations ensue. Finally, the attention is off them and they’re allowed to just exist.

“Well, should we dance to avoid mingling?” Marjan suggests, and Paul nods promptly.

“That is an excellent idea,” he answers, proceeding to hold out his hand to Nancy.

“Hey, don’t steal my girl!” Mateo jumps in and Paul fixes him with a look.

“She is my date,” he jokes.

Meanwhile, TK is giving Nancy a questioning gaze while she pointedly ignores his. “‘My girl’?” he questions.

“It hasn’t been official for long,” she mumbles, and TK is highly unimpressed.

“Uh huh,” he dismisses. “What was that you were just saying about lying to your work bestie?”

“Okay, let’s dance!” she calls out, grabbing Paul’s hand and leading him to the floor.

TK shakes his head in disbelief, but before they can follow, Carlos sees Dr. Strand approaching. He nods at the man and bumps TK with his elbow so he notices as well.

“We’ll catch up with you later,” TK decides, nodding at Marjan and Mateo to go on without them.

“TK! I didn’t know you’d be here.” Dr. Strand says with a wide grin. He looks between TK and Carlos, or more like the limited space that’s between them that leaves no question what they’re here as. “And Carlos! Hello.”

TK steps forward, pulling Owen into a casual, brief hug. “Hi, Dad.”

Carlos holds out his hand when TK’s done, letting Owen shake it. “Dr. Strand.”

“I’ll let it go this time, Carlos, since this is technically a work event.” Owen says pointedly, and Carlos presses his lips together in a sheepish smile. It’s going to be a hard habit to break.

“An unpaid event,” TK mumbles.

“You’re here as a plus one,” Owen reminds him, and then glances at Carlos, as if to confirm that. Carlos gives him a small nod and Owen smiles. “You could’ve easily had the night off.”

“No, no,” TK argues. “I’m right where I want to be. I want a crab cake.”

Carlos chuckles. TK’s desire is well-noted at this point. “I know, babe. We’ll get you your crab cake.”

Owen holds his hand up. “Before you go, there are some people I want to introduce you to, son. Both of you.”

TK tilts his head and lets his shoulders slump and Carlos feels like he’s getting a good look at what teenage TK was like. “Dad, can we have a minute before we start the schmoozing?”

“This isn’t schmoozing. It’s some of my colleagues, not the donors,” he corrects, and Carlos sees his posture stiffen, opposed for an entirely different reason.

He remembers months ago when TK told him that he’s always a disappointment to people when they learn he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps entirely. Carlos reaches out and brushes an intimate hand along his lower back. Maybe Carlos can be the focus, to take the attention off of TK.

“I’d be happy to, Owen,” Carlos says, polite and open and doing everything he can to be the perfect man to date Dr. Strand’s son.

The pair they get introduced to look roughly Owen’s age, a neurosurgeon and a vascular surgeon from Owen’s explanation.

“This is my son, TK,” he states.

“TK, hello!” Dr. Harper greets, holding out his hand to shake. “I’ve heard so much about the next generation of Strand men. What speciality are you in?”

Carlos’ skin goes cold and TK stiffens beside him.

“He’s an EMT,” Owen corrects before TK can say anything. If TK is surprised, he doesn’t show it, at least not to the untrained eye. Carlos is an expert in two things: emergency medicine and TK. He can tell how much it means to his boyfriend. “And a damn good one. He’s down in the ED, making sure your patients get to you in one piece.”

Dr. Harper nods in respect. “Well, good for you, son.”

To Carlos’ surprise, Owen introduces him next. “And his partner is Dr. Reyes, an ER resident and hopefully future attending.”

“Oh,” Carlos stammers, smiling politely but sheepish. “I still have over a year until then.”

“Well, this hospital would be lucky to have you officially join the team,” Dr. Liu compliments, and Carlos smiles appreciatively at her.

When the trio moves on to mingle, TK and Carlos aren’t left alone for long when Dr. Vega spots them. She’s in a dazzling navy gown with a man trailing after her, holding her clutch. For a bit, Carlos could forget that he’s coming out to his attending tonight and showing her his boyfriend is a coworker. It’s impossible to ignore that detail now when she’s striding towards them.

“Carlos, TK,” she greets. If she’s surprised to see TK here, she makes no indication. “Good to see you.”

“You too, you look wonderful,” Carlos compliments.

“As do you too,” she replies, and then her gaze flits between the two of them. “You make a fine couple.”

Carlos’ heart rate begins to slow again, TK squeezes his hand, and that’s all there is to it. Carlos didn’t know a life where it could be so simple before coming here.

“This is my husband, Charles. These are my colleagues,” she introduces.

After a brief conversation where they learn Charles is not only a chef, but started the company that’s catering tonight, Tommy tells them to enjoy their night.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she adds, and TK winces.

“That makes it a little harder to enjoy our night, Doc.”

She tilts her head in contemplation. “It gives you an excuse to get out of here earlier.”

Carlos raises a glass towards her in respect. “That’s true,” he agrees.

As the pair wave goodbye and wander away, TK turns to Carlos. “Shame, I like seeing you in this tux.”

He doesn’t reach out, but Carlos wishes he would. He thinks the upcoming weeks are going to be filled with trial and error, finding out how to be a couple in public together. Carlos is excited to go into this new part of their lives together.

“You can keep it on me when we get home,” he offers cheekily, and TK fixes him with a look.

“I prefer you out of it more.”

Carlos chuckles, and holds out a hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“I was going to suggest we sneak off to the bathroom.”

Carlos laughs. “Okay, I’m not feeling that brave tonight.”

Chapter Text

The morning after the gala, Carlos’ seven o’clock shift comes early.

He and TK barely have time to complain about the lack of sleep—they inevitably did not get to sneak out of the gala early—before they’re rushing to the hospital. From there, Carlos is thrown into case after case—COPD exacerbation, GSW, sepsis, and rib fractures. It keeps him focused and busy, his mind filled with lab values and placing orders instead of the events of last night.

He thinks it went well. In fact, he’s fairly certain it did. Except when Tommy asks to speak to him midday, all of Carlos’ fears come rushing back. He quickly locks the computer at his workstation and dutifully follows her. It’s not like she has an office, or even her own desk, so she leads him to an empty bay room and Carlos feels like he’s going to throw up.

“Dr. Reyes, I want to chat for a minute. I won’t take too much of your time.”

He nods, swallowing his spit. His mouth feels dry and tacky and he doesn’t trust his voice to speak. Subtly, in a habit he’s developed over years of being in nerve-wracking situations, he clocks the quickest way out. An escape place.

“It’s no trouble,” he says, like he doesn’t have I&D waiting for him in 19 and stitches that need to be placed in 4.

She gives him a grateful smile. “I’ll start by saying it’s been wonderful having you here. You’re smart, driven, and develop great rapport with the patients.”

Carlos’ stomach drops. He doesn’t think he’s about to get fired, but it doesn’t feel like this timing is coincidental. He’s going to have to choose: TK or medicine. He’d have to pick medicine. It’s been a decade and hundreds of thousands of dollars in the making. TK would want him to pick medicine. But it doesn’t have to be here. This city is full of options. He could work at a different hospital in the city and sure, the time he sees his boyfriend would be severely cut down between their busy lives and Carlos’ demanding schedule, but they could make it work. They’d have to make it work because Carlos can’t imagine his life without either of these things and—

“Carlos? Is that something you see in your future?”

He blinks, not having realized she asked him a question. “I’m sorry, can you clarify?” he asks, hoping that’s not an insanely dumb question to be following up with.

“Well,” she states. “When it comes time to decide where you’d like to continue your career, we’d like you to keep us in mind.”

Carlos’ mind whirs, feeling like an old, lagging computer that’s struggling to keep up. “As an attending?”

Tommy chuckles. “Yes, unless you were still trying to debate where to finish your residency?”

Carlos shakes his head vehemently. “No. No, I’m very happy here.”

“Good.”

“But…” Carlos trails off. The plans Tommy is talking about still feel a long ways away. “I still have another year of residency, and I have to take my boards.”

Tommy shrugs like it’s a minor detail. “If I know you, you like to have a plan. No doubt you’ve already started to create one in your mind, residency and boards notwithstanding.”

Though he’s the only one who knows about it, Carlos is embarrassed. He’s embarrassed by his ability to turn an innocent question into a doom spiral when the result is actually something good. Something he’s been wanting and hoping for.

“I would be honored to stay here to continue my career,” he tells her.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Tommy grins at him, and then her expression grows more serious again. “But I don’t want you to feel tied down here. I encourage you to apply to other places when the time comes; you could have your pick of hospitals.”

He doesn’t tell her that she couldn’t be more wrong about him wanting to branch out. “Trust me, Dr. Vega. Tied down is the last thing I feel here.”

When Carlos returns to the main part of the ER, he spots Nancy grilling TK at the nurse’s station. Almost instantly, Carlos plants his heel and spins around, but he’s not quick enough.

“Dr. Reyes! You’re needed stat,” she calls out.

Wincing, he looks over his shoulder and gestures behind him. “I need to place stitches—”

“Dr. Marwani already did that. Trust your resident, Doctor.”

Carlos snaps his mouth shut. “Right.”

He tries not to drag his feet as he joins his boyfriend. He’s not sure why he’s being dragged into this. TK’s the one that’s close with her.

“The six of us are hanging out tomorrow,” she demands as soon as he’s there.

“Uh…” Carlos looks over to TK, who shrugs. “Okay.” It comes out more like a question.

Nancy gives TK a firm look. “And you get to tell me when you went from fawning over Dr. Reyes to dating him.”

Carlos fights a smile. Turns out he’s very glad he came over here.

“I don’t know if I’d call it fawning.”

“Crushing, pining, yearning—”

TK holds up a hand. “Okay, okay,” he grumbles.

“So are we on?” she asks.

“I can host,” Carlos blurts out before he knows what he’s doing. He wants to host. He wants to feel more integrated into the group.

“You sure?” TK asks, and Carlos shrugs.

“I’ve got the space for it. It’ll be fun.”

He’s never been one to host, mostly because he’s never been one to throw parties, but it sounds fun now. People in his home and life don't sound dreadful, because these are people he’s comfortable with.

“Thanks, Carlos,” Nancy accepts.

“Yeah. Thanks, babe.”

Carlos gives them a smile. “It’s no trouble.”

“I gotta go,” Nancy quickly says as an alarm starts going off in her patient’s room.

As she scurries away, Carlos leans a hip against the counter. “You had a crush, huh?”

TK holds up his hand, pinching his fingers together. “Tiny. Miniscule.”

“Uh huh.”

“Like… barely even there,” TK bullshits, and Carlos hums.

“Hm.” He stands up straight, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I was going to say I had a crush too, but I guess I’m alone in that.”

TK frowns and steps closer. “No, no. I didn’t say that.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, but chuckles. “Get back to work.”

“Hey, I get to see you before tomorrow, right?” TK asks before he goes.

“Come over tonight. And then you can help me clean tomorrow.”

TK groans, but he’s smiling. “Walked into that one,” he mumbles as he trudges away.

Like an idiot, Carlos stands smiling at the spot he vacated for several seconds until his pager goes off and TK can no longer be at the center of his thoughts.

***

TK loves sex like this.

He didn’t before—when it wasn’t with Carlos—but now he likes the casualness. He likes the slowness, that they can enjoy each other’s company without racing to an orgasm. They’ll get there, and it’ll be so good, but that’s not what his focus is right now.

His mouth slides against Carlos’, warm and slick with deep searching tongues. TK squeezes his knees tighter against Carlos’ hips as he rises up, and then sinks down onto his cock again.

“You feel good,” Carlos murmurs, scratching his fingers up and down TK’s thighs.

“You too,” TK murmurs as their foreheads press together.

They continue on for an indiscernible amount of time, TK’s slow riding and Carlos’ soft caresses. TK’s whole body buzzes with warmth—the thrill of being in his gorgeous boyfriend’s bed, the hum of the refrigerator on the other side of the wall, the changing lighting from the TV they left on in the living room.

“We still have to do dishes,” Carlos mumbles eventually. It’s not a hint that they need to speed this up, merely an observation.

TK likes long, drawn out sex, but sometimes dirty talk only goes so far. And TK likes talking. He likes that they are comfortable enough with each other that they can talk about anything and not lose their rhythm.

“Ugh,” TK grumbles. He takes Carlos to the hilt, a breath stuttering out of him, and then stays there as he relaxes. “And I don’t have any clean scrubs. Can I wash mine from today?”

Carlos catches his lips. “Of course. Will it dry in time?”

“If not I’ll throw them in the dryer in the morning,” TK decides. He starts moving again, falling into the familiar rhythm of the up and down and the way Carlos palms knead his ass.

“You’ll have to get up early,” Carlos points out, and TK cracks a smile. Then, that smile slips from his face as he thinks about tomorrow.

“Was thinking about it anyway. Might go for a run before work.”

Carlos’ hands pause on his hips. “You are?”

TK nods and then decides to straighten his legs, hooking them behind Carlos on the mattress. The angle makes him take Carlos that much deeper and they both moan.

“Yeah,” he decides.

“Okay…” Carlos murmurs, surprised but accepting. In this position, TK can’t move much, but Carlos holds his hips and grinds into him, causing TK to drop his head until their foreheads touch. “Do you want company?”

“No, you had a long day today,” TK whispers. “You should get enough sleep.”

“I can still—”

TK cups his cheeks and kisses him deeply. “No, babe. Really, it’s okay.” He debates whether to bring up his reason. There’s some conversation that’s a little bit too much for mid-sex, but they don’t have to get into the details. “Sometimes I like to go to clear my head.”

Carlos hums. “Something on your mind?”

TK locks his legs around Carlos’ back, keeping him from moving too much. He strokes Carlos’ cheek and looks down at his chest, at the gold cross nestled in dark chest hair.

“Tomorrow’s the anniversary of my mom’s death.”

Carlos’ shoulders slump and he hugs TK’s waist. “Oh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” TK mumbles.

The further he gets from the actual day, the easier it is to get through the anniversary, but that doesn’t mean TK doesn’t relive the moment he saw his mom being wheeled through the doors of the ER. Normally, TK requests this day off, but getting swept up in Carlos this year has caused him to forget. It’s not all bad; Carlos will be there at the hospital with him tomorrow and he’ll stay busy, not allowing himself to become too consumed by grief.

“You sure you want to be alone for that?” Carlos checks.

“I won’t be alone all day. I’ll meet you at work.” When Carlos looks like he wants to argue again, TK smiles. “I love you baby, but I have to do this on my own.”

Carlos freezes. His eyes go wide and his brows pinch together, and it’s then that TK realizes what he said. He didn’t mean to let that slip. It feels like a terribly unromantic time to speak of his love and TK is about to backpedal like he never has before when Carlos starts to smile.

“You love me?” he asks with a childlike wonder.

“Oh. Um,” TK giggles. He does. So much. And Carlos doesn’t look put off by that. “I guess that wasn’t the best way to do it but, yeah. I do.”

Before TK knows it, he’s being squeezed tightly and flipped onto his back.

“Baby!” TK shouts with a giddy laugh as Carlos begins attacking his neck with a thousand kisses.

Finally, Carlos makes his way to TK’s mouth and cups his cheeks. He slows, stealing a moment to look TK in the eye. “Me too.”

TK’s heart bursts at an accidental slip turning into a blissful, core moment. “Yeah?”

“Yes, TK,” Carlos gushes. “I feel it too.”

TK surges up, connecting their mouths in a searing kiss as Carlos starts to drill into him. He wraps his legs around Carlos and lets them be fully intertwined with one another, both moaning and gasping and kissing their way to their orgasms.

Carlos’ name falls from his lips as he finishes, and he sighs happily and satiated as Carlos comes inside him. He hums at the feeling of Carlos’ cock slipping from his body and the warm trickle that proceeds. It’s personal and intimate and shameless.

“Mm, hi,” TK murmurs when Carlos flops down beside him, one leg still slung over TK.

“Hi,” Carlos whispers.

“I’m really happy,” TK confesses quietly, like the universe will hear him and take it away.

Carlos shuffles closer, squeezing TK’s waist and pulling him into his warmth. “I never thought I’d have this,” he confesses. He’s holding TK so tightly and TK feels his appreciation in every inch of pressure being applied to his body.

“You have it,” TK whispers. He curls his arms between them, lightly tracing his fingertips along Carlos’ jaw. “You have me.”

Carlos tilts his chin up, letting their mouths meet again. Every press of Carlos’ lips makes TK feel full of life. He loves kissing and being kissed, and he’s never loved it more than he does with Carlos. He could spend hours doing this—trading kisses and murmurded words, with exploring hands and cherishing touches.

They don’t have forever. Tomorrow they’ll go back to work and it’ll be a harder day than usual. Carlos will probably have to stay late and TK will probably have to go back to his place and do laundry and make sure he doesn’t have anything rotting in his fridge. They can always come back to this though. He has safety now, more than he feels like he’s had in a long time. Carlos loves him, and that means they’ll get to drift back to one another. They might have to go to work tomorrow, but they’ll have tomorrow night. They’ll have a shared day off coming soon and maybe even paid time off in the future. It’s not just TK’s life now; they walk together.

Eventually they peel away from one another, sharing a shower and dressing in similar clothes for comfort. They take care of their necessary chores and sink into the couch with mugs of herbal tea and the local news as if there will be some hint of the people waiting for them in the ER tomorrow.

When they return to bed, the only lights are the city ones filtering in through the blinds. They set alarms, TK before Carlos, and plug their phones into their chargers in tandem before meeting in the middle again. TK curls himself into Carlos’ side, a heavy arm draping around his shoulders. He breathes out a sigh of relief that comes from a long day, but a good one.

He—they—saved lives today, joked with their friends, made dinner, made love, confessed love, and brushed their teeth side by side at the end of it. It’s TK’s life now. It’s the life he’s been waiting for.

***

Carlos feels the kiss TK drops onto his head at approximately five. He thinks he mumbles something back, something that shows TK he’s here for this tough day, but he doesn’t know if the words make it past his lips.

The alarm that doesn’t come in the form of his boyfriend wakes him half an hour later. Even though he’s alone in his apartment as he gets ready, he sees TK’s trace everywhere. In the oatmilk he stores in the fridge, the dirty bowl in the sink, the hoodie thrown over the chair. Carlos used to despise clutter and mess, but now he likes the reminders that he’s not alone even if he physically is.

He makes egg whites and sourdough, scarfing those down before making a cup of coffee to go and grabbing a banana too. He doesn’t have to ever worry about what to wear, only having to grab another set of black scrubs. He doesn’t need a jacket; it’s already hot out and he hopes TK thought of grabbing water for his run.

He ends up leaving home and arriving at the hospital earlier than he needs to. There’s nothing to slow him down and cause him to want to linger when TK isn’t there. Pearce is the first one he sees, feverishly typing as if it’s his single goal in life to finish his notes and make it out of here by exactly seven.

“Busy night?” Carlos asks.

“Yes.”

Short, to the point, and serious. Not an ounce of humor. Carlos nods and moves along. He gets about five minutes to log in to the EMR before someone bursts through the ambulance bay doors yelling for help. Carlos is on his feet instantly, whipping around to see two men hobbling through. One guy is basically holding the other up and they’re covered in blood.

“I need two gurneys!” Carlos calls out amidst a flurry of activity. Others are moving into action already; Carlos sees Nancy running forward with supplies while Grace gets two rooms ready.

“What happened?”

“My buddy got shot in the stomach,” the one that’s upright and stable says.

“And you walked here?” Carlos questions in bewilderment as a team of them transfer the man who is fading fast to the gurney.

“We were in Central Park. It seemed faster.”

Before Carlos can even take charge of the more injured man, Paul is whisking him away to a room and Carlos focuses his attention on the one in front of him.

“What’s your name? Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head. “I’m Danny. No. No, I’m fine. He didn’t get me, but he got Max’s sister. She’s coming in too.”

“Okay, Danny. Let’s get you settled in a room. We’ll check you over and get the police down here.”

As Carlos starts to lead him further into the department, his head swivels around trying to see all his friends at once. “Are they gonna be okay?”

“We’re going to do everything we can for your friends,” Carlos says evenly. “Grace?”

She appears in an instant, placing a hand on his back and leading him to an empty room. “Right this way, sir.”

“Another one is coming,” he mentions to Grace before jogging towards the ambulance bay.

He hopes he can catch her as quickly as possible. He doesn’t know what the extent of her injuries are. If she’ll even make it here. But then the door slides open again and Carlos sees a woman hobbling in. Blood soaks her pants, though she has a makeshift tourniquet around her thigh and her arm thrown around a man’s shoulders. And… holy shit.

“TK?”

His legs carry him forward without the conscious decision to do so. TK is in his running clothes that Carlos saw through half-lidded eyes an hour ago. His shorts are dark and his gray shirt is soaked through with sweat. And blood.

A wave of nausea floods through Carlos so strong that he thinks he might throw up on the floor right in front of everyone. But then TK is catching his eye and looking at him reassuringly.

”Hey, I’m fine. I’m fine. Help her.”

Carlos doesn’t allow himself to feel bad about what he does next. There are plenty of capable doctors around here; more capable than him. When Tommy swoops in to collect the woman, Carlos doesn’t offer any arguments.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles to TK as soon as it’s the two of them. The ER is still a flurry of activity around them, but Carlos’ world has slowed to his boyfriend. He longs to reach out, to feel the warm, sticky liquid himself.

TK shakes his head rapidly. “No, I’m not. It’s not my blood.”

With that reassuring fact in his mind, Carlos tries to make sense of the situation. He looks around, as if the answer will appear to him.

“These people were shot. You were there?”

“Accidentally,” TK clarifies. He holds his hands up like Carlos is a spooked animal. Blood. There’s so much blood on his hand. “I was running in the park. Stumbled upon them.”

TK was in a shooting. TK. Tyler. His boyfriend. The man he is in love with. Carlos came so close to losing him today. His legs feel weak. “Oh my god.”

“I tried to help. They were being mugged, I think. I don’t know if something went wrong or the guy got spooked, but he’d already gotten a shot off before I got there. He managed to get another before someone else started calling the cops and he ran. We were,” he waves his hand, gesturing around, “just inside the park. I knew we could get here faster.”

“You were there when the gunman was?” Carlos asks, needing the clarification that a gun was pointed on his love today.

TK looks at him, a flicker of something Carlos can’t place in his eyes. “Yeah.”

“TK,” Carlos exhales, sounding choked up.

TK steps closer, reaching out to take Carlos’ hand. He squeezes once. “Babe. I’m fine. Really. You should go help out with the other three.”

Carlos blinks a few times. As much as he hates it, TK is right. He has work to do here. “Will you get checked out before your shift starts?” Carlos begs.

“Okay,” TK relents.

Carlos takes one more moment to look at his boyfriend. His skin is a little pale and still shining with sweat, and he should probably get checked out sooner rather than later.

“C’mon.” Carlos tugs on his hand. “Let’s find Grace.”

As TK begins to follow him, he stumbles. Cautiously, Carlos turns around. “Are you okay?” he asks carefully, feeling like he’s on the precipice of something dangerous.

“Yeah, yeah,” TK dismisses. “The adrenaline is fading. I'm just starting to get a little shaky.”

Carlos frowns. He grabs a chair from the nurse’s station. “Sit down.”

“Carlos?”

There’s something off in his voice. Something seriously wrong with the weak, vulnerable way Carlos’ name is uttered.

Carlos’ heart begins to pound. His hands feel clammy and he’s almost terrified to answer. “Yeah?”

TK’s eyes meet his. They’re full of terror.

“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, and then he drops to the floor.

Carlos darts forward before he even processes what’s happening, catching him just before his skull cracks against the linoleum. He thinks he calls out TK’s name or maybe a cry of true fear, but the room is swimming around him. Panic clutches at his throat, making it hard to draw in a breath. There’s more blood on TK’s shirt than there was before, and when Carlos shoves it out of the way, he sees the gunshot wound in his abdomen.

“I need help!” he screams as his whole world crashes down around him.

Chapter Text

“One, two, three.”

All six of them lift, moving TK’s body from the floor to the gurney. He’s rushed to the empty trauma bay as a dozen orders are barked and hands work rapidly. It's a procedure they’ve been through countless times with countless patients.

But it’s not just a patient. It’s TK.

Every single person working on him is acutely aware of that, but if they let that rattle them, TK will die. Carlos can break down when he is safe.

“Shears.”

“Dr. Reyes—”

Carlos ignores Mateo. There’s no way in hell he’s leaving this room. He’s not leaving TK.

“Shears.”

The tool is in his hand in the next instant and Carlos’ mouth feels tacky as he slices up the front of TK’s shirt. He’s working on autopilot. He’s removed clothes like this countless times, and he’s removed TK’s clothes countless times, but never have the two coincided before. Normally, Carlos gets rid of TK’s pants with searing kisses or soft touches. He’s frantic now, but it’s accompanied by a growing pit in his stomach and the metallic smell of blood.

“One. Two. Three,” Carlos counts, and then TK is rolled onto his side. Carlos scans quickly.

This isn’t TK’s back. This isn’t TK’s back. This isn’t TK’s back. He hasn’t let his eyes roam down this spine before during lazy mornings in bed when TK is still curled up and sleeping, able to be woken with gentle words or teasing kisses.

This isn’t Tyler. This is a patient.

“No exit wound,” Dr. Vega announces. When did she get here? Carlos’ world is a vacuum.

“70/52,” Mateo calls out, and Carlos curses under his breath.

“Push norepi,” he calls out as they return TK to supine. His eyes are closed; he could be sleeping. For a moment, the room slows and Carlos focuses on his love. “Come on, baby,” he whispers.

He knows the crash cart is right outside the room. The rapid team is ready. Respiratory is just beyond the glass, ready to run in here and shove a tube to TK’s throat. They all know what can happen here.

“Where is he? Where’s my son?”

Dr. Strand bursts through the doors and Carlos whirls around, wide-eyed. Oh god. Owen. How is Carlos— He can’t. He can’t explain to this man that his son is dying on his watch.

No.

No. He’s not dying.

“We’ve got him, Doctor,” Tommy tells Owen, gently backing him out of the room.

Carlos blinks at the spot he just vacated before turning back to TK. Think. Think, Reyes. Think. All of his training and years of experience feel like they led him to this moment right here. Carlos has been here before. He has seen this. He knows what to do.

Think, Reyes.

“He needs an exploratory laparotomy. Mateo, call the OR stat.” He trusts that Mateo is on it and spins, looking for someone who can answer his question. “Who’s on trauma today?”

“Jones,” Grace answers, and Carlos shakes his head sharply.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

Carlos pauses, peeling his eyes away from TK for the second it takes to look at Grace. “I said no. Jones and TK have history. He can’t operate on him.”

He’s never argued with Grace, has hardly ever argued with anyone that works here, but Carlos throws everything out the window when it comes to TK.

“You don’t get to make that call,” she says calmly, and Carlos clenches his jaw and shakes his head. This is TK’s life. He doesn’t care right now if he’s being rude or demanding. The man that carelessly broke TK’s heart is not going to cut him open.

Transport rushes into the room and Carlos is crowded out of the way in the next instant. His hand slips from TK’s grasp—he didn’t realize he wasn’t holding it until the warmth was gone—and he’s forced to stand against the wall as the gurney TK is on gets wheeled out. Carlos’ throat feels thick and he memorizes the dips and curves of TK’s face. On autopilot, he takes a step forward without looking away, only to be stopped by Grace’s hand on his shoulder.

Carlos can’t follow him.

“You have to get someone else,” he pleads with her.

“There is no one else. Dr. Lamke and Dr. Li are already in another OR.”

Carlos can feel his breath starting to quicken. Panic clutches at his chest. His heart. “Find someone else then, I don’t care. I don’t trust—”

“Dr. Reyes.”

Carlos’ eyes dart over to Owen and Carlos takes a raggedy inhale. He moves towards the man with the most power in this room. “They want Alex to—”

Now it’s Owen’s turn to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know. Dr. Patel is on call. She’s already on her way in. He's getting prepped for the OR now. Her PA will start and by the time they’re ready for her, she’ll be here.”

Carlos sucks a breath in. Dr. Patel is the chief of surgery. TK couldn’t be in better hands. He doesn’t know what kind of strings Owen had to pull to get her here, but he doesn’t care. He’ll take all the favors, all the handouts, right now.

He nods, shaking his head a few times to convince himself as well. TK’s not in the room anymore. The only thing left is an empty space with bloody shoe prints on the ground and plastic wrapping from the supplies they ripped open.

“I’ll text you once he’s out of surgery,” Owen tells him. Carlos doesn’t understand how he can be so calm right now when Carlos feels like the world is spinning.

The two worst moments of his life look exactly like this. The first was a father with a bullet in his chest, and now the love of his life with a bullet in his abdomen. His father survived. It gives him a sick feeling that TK won’t, like his luck has run out.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he follows the arm up to see Owen. He looks like Carlos’ father, concerned but brave. “Carlos?”

Carlos blinks a few times. Owen can’t text him. “You don’t have my—”

“TK gave it to me,” Owen informs him.

Carlos doesn’t know what to make of that. It would feel wonderful if TK weren’t fighting for his life right now. Nothing can feel right when so much is wrong.

“Okay,” Carlos whispers, and Owen lingers one more moment before he’s gone.

Numbly, Carlos peels his gloves off and drops them in the garbage. He santizies his hands just as he always does any time he leaves a patient’s room and then walks over to the computer on autopilot. His badge scans him in and there he is. Someone already entered him in.

Tyler Strand. ED-1.

TK’s name is never supposed to be up on the board. Maybe for a broken bone he sustained while they were hiking together or appendicitis that Carlos drags him in for in the middle of the night. Carlos would be unnecessarily fretting at his bedside even though everything was routine, and TK would yell at him to stop being a doctor and start being his partner.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Never like this.

Quickly, before they switch his location over to PERI-OP, Carlos opens the chart. It feels like a breach of privacy, a massive violation of trust to rip open TK’s medical record and poke around. He has to, though. It’s his job.

Beside him, Grace seems to notice what he’s doing. “Carlos, you don’t have to—”

He looks at her. His eyes begin to fill with embarrassing tears that he blinks away. “I do though. He was my patient. I worked on him, I have to provide a report so that everyone who helps him knows that he was bleeding out on the emergency room floor.”

“Sweetheart—”

“I don’t just get to ignore this because I love him!” he chokes out as the tears begin to fall, and then hands are on him, pulling him out of his chair.

“Let’s take a break first,” she tells him.

Carlos has no choice but to be led to the single stall bathroom. He keeps his head down, but he can feel the eyes of everyone on him. They’re all going through their own shock and grief, but not like Carlos is. TK is his life.

“I can’t lose him,” he gasps as he leans down against the sink. Last time he broke down in this room, TK was there to comfort him. Now TK is being cut open and Carlos feels every slide of the knife as if it was happening to him.

“Now I know you’re not giving up on him that easily.”

A small sob breaks out of Carlos’ mouth and he shakes his head. Grace steps up beside him, turning the water on. He lets it run for a few minutes before following her silent instruction. After he rinses his face with warm water, he tries to figure out how to collect himself.

Grace is right. He can’t act like TK is already gone. “You’re right.” He sniffs. “He’s a fighter.”

“Almost stubbornly so,” she adds, and despite everything, he cracks a smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

After he pats his face dry, Grace grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to look at her. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to chart on him, and then you are going to leave this department for the day or week or whatever it takes. And you are going to sit by your boyfriend’s bed and hold his hand. Okay?”

“Okay,” Carlos whispers. TK is in surgery for the next hour or two. Carlos can’t be by his side until he finishes charting anyway. He was stable for a long time. He probably just lost a lot of blood. He’ll get a transfusion and they’ll locate the bullet and everything will be just fine. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

She gives him an understanding smile. Her husband is a security guard. No doubt he’s been hurt here once or twice. “No apologies necessary, Carlos.”

He feels slightly better as he returns to his workstation. To an outsider, it looks like any other day in the ER. The providers are busy with patients, attending to their needs, but in the few seconds they get to themselves, something shifts. Nancy checks her watch for updates, Mateo prays, Marjan fiddles with her hoop earring, Paul stares blankly ahead instead of at the screen he’s charting on.

And Carlos’ fingers shake as he opens TK’s chart again. He’s doing his job, he reminds himself. It’s not a violation of trust to scan his past medical history. He does it for every patient, to get the full picture. TK’s isn’t nearly as long as many of the older or chronically ill patients that come through their doors. He fractured his ulna in 2007 and had infectious mononucleosis in 2011, and then something unusual catches Carlos’ eye.

Opioid abuse, 2014

Then, the next line down: Heroin use, 2014

Carlos pushes back from the desk and scrubs a hand over his face. His palms sweat and his heart pounds in his chest. Fuck, he should not be seeing this. This is something TK should tell him himself… why didn’t TK tell him? It makes sense though, Carlos realizes. Never drinking. How he’s often busy on Wednesday evenings. Carlos thought it was a weekly dinner with Owen or therapy, but now he wonders if he goes to meetings. The way he snapped at a cop who brought in a woman who OD’d, the one who called her a ‘run of the mill junkie’.

TK’s an addict. Former addict? Carlos realizes he doesn’t even know if TK’s sober.

Carlos wants to start the day over. He wants it to be five o’clock again and TK is pressing a kiss to his head. Carlos wants to demand he stay in bed, that they call in sick to work and Carlos plays hooky for the first time in his life. They should’ve stayed safe, tucked away from the rest of the world where nothing can hurt them. They could’ve spent hours wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about all the things they don’t know about each other.

Instead, Carlos feels like he’s living a nightmare.

When he focuses on the screen again, he sees that TK’s location has been changed. It’s finally been updated to show he’s in the OR. Carlos needs to be in his room when he wakes up, or at least when they bring him back, if they’re going to wake him up today.

His watch buzzes and he startles. Glancing at it, he finds a text from an unknown number. It must be Owen.

He’ll be in MSICU-12 when he’s done

They’re already planning a room for him. That means there must be some hope. Carlos quickly digs out his phone and types out a thanks. Those are the only two messages in the thread. Carlos hopes it’ll be used again in the future, for planning surprise parties for TK and not a funeral. Putting his phone away, he goes back to the computer and begins documenting.

Patient is a 29 y/o male with a PMH of…

He wants to throw up as he recounts TK’s past and present. He has to put himself back into the moment, describing the way TK burst through the doors and then collapsed on the floor. He keeps it neutral, diplomatic. No one reading this should know that Carlos’ heart hit the floor when TK did. That he’s trying not to cry as he writes this. Trying not to let it be known that if this patient doesn’t make it, Carlos doesn’t know if he’ll ever step foot in an emergency room again.

***

TK is already in the room by the time Carlos gets there. He finished his documentation and then gave updates to all their friends and then changed out of his scrubs before locating the ICU. He’s never been to this part of the hospital, or any part other than the ER. As he walks past rooms, glancing inside open doors, he recognizes a few faces that he treated before they came here.

Owen stands from his chair at TK’s bedside as soon as Carlos appears in the doorway, but Carlos only has eyes for TK. It’s dark in the room and he could just be sleeping, but he’s still intubated and the tube down his throat reminds Carlos that this is all too real.

He’s hooked up to IVs, an EKG, a pulse ox, an art line, and a Foley. There are more wires and tubes coming out of TK than Carlos knows what to do with. There’s hardly a spot on his arm that’s free to touch. His oxygen is good and his blood pressure is a little low, but stable. That’s when he sees the two pressors keeping it that way. Carlos forces air in and then out of his own lungs. TK lost a lot of blood, he reminds himself. He has good reason to need help keeping his blood pressure up.

“They’ll try an SBT in the morning.”

Carlos blinks at TK’s body before focusing on Owen. His gaze is fixed on his son, but Carlos nods anyway. Good. That’s good that they’re already planning to wean him off the ventilator.

He clears his throat. “Did they say anything else?”

Owen inhales deeply and then slides his chair back to be able to look at Carlos. “The bullet hit his colon. They were able to extract it and repair the tear, but the biggest concern now is sepsis.”

Carlos swallows past the lump in his throat. “Right,” he chokes out. The bullet is one thing. He may have survived that, but the complications after are endless.

“Would you like to sit down?”

Carlos' gaze snaps back to Owen again. He didn’t realize he was looking at TK again. His eyes naturally seek him out. “Oh, I… I don’t want to impose. You should be with him.”

“Carlos,” Owen says caringly, like a father would to his son. “He wants you here. And you’d be doing me a favor too.”

When Carlos takes a second to actually look at Owen, he realizes he’s still in his scrubs. Then, Carlos begins to move forward. “I’ll stay with him,” he vows, and Owen nods, squeezing his shoulder.

“You saved my son’s life,” Owen chokes out, and Carlos’ throat feels tight. He’s saved a lot of people’s sons. This one carries a whole new weight to it. “I already knew you were good for him, but I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you did down there.”

Carlos doesn’t trust his voice, but he manages a shaky nod. Finally, he croaks, “I love him.”

A fresh wave of tears rolls down his cheeks. Carlos isn’t saying this to Dr. Strand. He’s not speaking to a renowned cardiac surgeon. He’s talking to his boyfriend’s dad, and the closest thing Carlos has to a dad on this side of the Applachians.

“I can tell,” Owen assures him, and then he pulls Carlos into a hug. It takes Carlos a moment to relax into it, but when he does, he doesn't realize how badly he needs it.

Carlos waits to take the seat until he’s alone in the room. When he’s finally sitting, he’s afraid to touch TK. He’s seen countless patients in worse shape than TK is in right now. He knows he won’t hurt him, but the delicacy in his features and in the machines keeping him alive make Carlos scared to reach out. In the end, the need to feel the warmth of TK’s skin wins out. He locates a bare area of skin below his elbow to rest his hand on, and when he’s made contact, he grips tight.

“Hey, baby.” He blows out a shaky breath. “Next time how about we just stay in bed, huh?”

He’s not used to talking to TK’s non-responsive body. He’s normally so lively, such a chatterbox in Carlos’ kitchen as he goes on and on about his day while Carlos cooks. He loves it, loves that TK can create noise in all the quiet spaces that formed in Carlos’ life. He’s not used to being the one having to figure out what to say.

“Why’d you have to be a hero?” he chokes out. He just keeps thinking about how TK dove head first into danger. He wouldn’t be here right now. He’s not supposed to be here right now. But then again, those people probably wouldn’t be here either. TK wouldn’t be the man he loves if he didn’t step in to help. “I know, I know.” He sighs. “You gotta pull through this though. If you didn’t mean to say ‘I love you’, you could’ve just explained. You didn’t have to go to this level to avoid an awkward conversation.”

The joke feels stupid without TK’s bright giggle. It feels like a cosmic joke from the universe. They said they loved each other and then they’re torn apart. Except they didn’t…

Carlos didn’t say it back, not in so many words. He was so caught up in TK’s unexpected declaration that he wasn’t sure how to take all the feelings that live inside him and package them up nicely and neatly into three little words. And now TK has never heard him say it. The thought haunts him as Owen comes back and then their friends swing by too. Eventually, Carlos finds himself seated on a chair in the family lounge. There are other families of other patients here. Some work with headsets and laptops, balancing a sick mother with their jobs. Others have young kids playing with toys. Some are sleeping, some are crying, some are poking at cafeteria food. Carlos sits quietly, staring blankly at the wall ahead of him.

He doesn’t know what time it is. He thought time was weird in the ED; it’s nothing compared to the ICU without any windows or view into the outside world. He understands delirium and he’s not the one in a bed.

“He’s not supposed to be the emergency. What an ass for making us stay at work when we’re off the clock,” Nancy mumbles eventually, and Carlos can’t get himself to crack a smile. He can’t stop thinking about his regrets.

“He told me he loves me last night,” he blurts out.

Beside him, Nancy shifts, but Carlos doesn't look back. “He does. I can see it.”

“I didn’t say it back. I mean, I did, I told him I felt the same, but I didn’t say the words. I don’t know why I didn’t say the words, I should’ve said them,” he says desperately.

Nancy reaches over and grabs his hands, squeezing in solidarity. “He knows,” she promises.

“This is the day his mom died,” Carlos tells her, finally meeting her eye.

A wave of something washes over her face, fear of the world and its cruelty, and she grabs his hand harder. “Well it’s not the day we lose him, okay?”

Carlos holds onto that with all that he has.

Chapter Text

This song always reminds him of when he was twelve.

Being in a church isn’t unusual to him. He grew up going to Sunday morning mass, not wanting to hold hands with his sisters during the Our Father and thinking the communion always tasted like stale bread. He’s familiar with the songs they sing and there are some he could probably recite from memory to this date.

The song playing now isn’t as popular, but Carlos still knows it despite this not being a Catholic church. It’s a funeral song. Fitting for where he is now.

All around him are mourners. Together they watched the casket get marched down the center aisle. They listened to the words of family and prayers of the clergy. He hears cries of the family and stares at the back of the woman in the wheelchair. The woman TK saved that day. She made it here from the hospital to honor the life that was lost that day.

Carlos doesn’t cry along with them. He stays stoic with a hardened expression wondering how he got here, that is, until the father breaks down in sobs. Then, a silent tear slips out of Carlos’ eyes. He doesn’t wipe it away, not wanting to draw attention to himself when this isn’t about him. He’s here to pay his respects.

A gloomy day greets him when it’s over. Carlos’ feet hit the sidewalk and he’s not entirely sure which direction to start walking. The hospital? His apartment? His phone rings and keeps him from having to make a decision quite yet.

“Hey, baby.”

The sound of TK’s voice calms Carlos instantly. “Hey,” he exhales.

“Before you come back, can you grab some clothes for me?”

Carlos didn’t tell TK where he was going. He’s been by his boyfriend's side all week while he’s recovered. From when he was off the ventilator and weaned from sedation to when he was moved to a less intensive floor. Carlos has been there through the testing and the therapy and the police coming by to take his statement. Today, when Carlos mentioned that he had to run some errands, TK practically shoved him out the door and told him to take some time for himself.

He didn’t want to tell TK about the funeral. His boyfriend would let guilt eat him alive. He knows that one of the men he tried to save that day didn’t make it. He already holds that heavy in his heart. He doesn’t want TK to have to worry about missing the funeral, even though he has no obligation to be there. Carlos silently went in his place, to pay his respects to the man that lost his life that day. Part of it felt like penance. Being in a church brought back his old Catholic guilt about atoning for his sins. The entire time he was there, he kept thinking about how glad he was that TK wasn’t the one in the coffin. It gave him all the more reason to stay. That man was a person too.

“You’re busting out today?” Carlos asks, finally thinking about TK’s statement.

“Yeah, finally,” TK grumbles, and Carlos breaks into a wide grin.

He changes directions, heading for TK’s apartment. “That’s great. I’ll be there soon and I can bring you back home. Unless your dad…”

Carlos cuts himself off and he can practically hear TK’s eye roll. “Babe, I’ll see you soon.”

Carlos grins. “I love you,” he says easily. Those were the first words out of his mouth when TK woke up. TK, still half-sedated and very confused, smiled as his eyes slipped shut and he slurred the words back.

“Love you,” TK echoes back naturally.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Hurry up,” TK pouts. “Before my dad kidnaps me and takes me to his place.”

Carlos chuckles. “I’ll be there soon.”

He smiles long after he hangs up, rushing down the busy sidewalks. When TK got his belongings back, Carlos ended up with his key to grab clean underwear and a phone charger from his apartment. Carlos still holds onto it now, using it to let himself into TK’s place. It feels sacred to be here alone, to be invited into TK’s home to observe freely.

It reminds Carlos of the secret he’s harboring. He hasn’t told TK about what he saw. He doesn’t know how to bring it up. As he rifles through TK’s dresser for a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt, Carlos wonders if there are signs of it here. He can’t still be using. Carlos would know, right? He knows his boyfriend. He craves cuddles and sweets; he doesn’t sneak out of bed at night to inject drugs into his veins.

Carlos scrubs his hand over his face, focusing back on the task at hand.

***

TK watches silently as his dad leans against the window ledge, rereading the discharge paperwork again.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that I’m fine,” TK points out.

Owen startles, lowering the pages. “I’m just making sure nothing was missed that you should know.”

TK decides not to call his dad out on his bullshit. Dr. Patel is one of his most trusted colleagues; TK knows that. He would never double check her work. He’s reading over that paperwork because he doesn’t want something to happen to TK. Not again.

“Dad, I’m fine,” he repeats. “All that says is to change the bandage every few days and cover it when I shower. And even if I don’t do that, I’ll still be fine.”

Owen frowns at him like he should know better. “You could get an infection. Sepsis is more common than you think, you know. I—”

“I work in the ER, Dad. I know this.”

Owen sighs. “Then you should know about your risk of infection.”

TK’s shoulders slump and he leans back in the uncomfortable bed again. As his arm drops to his side, it brushes over the bandage that’s hidden under his gown. He’s had a steady stream of Tylenol, but nothing strong. Thankfully, the pain is at bay.

He doesn’t remember much of the morning it happened. He remembers being in the park and thinking those people need a hospital. Even with his musty brain, he can figure out that the closest hospital is the one they work at. Considering that’s where he is now, he knows he came through the doors of the ER. He doesn’t know what time he came in, who was on shift, who saw him firsthand or who heard about it, but he knows he terrified everyone either way.

His dad was probably here, maybe getting ready to scrub into a surgery when he found out his son had been shot. He can’t blame him for being extra cautious, but TK also needs him to believe that he’s not going anywhere. Especially if he has any hopes of going home with Carlos, which is where he wants to be more than anything.

“Dad, I am an EMT. My boyfriend is an emergency medicine doctor. I literally could not be in better hands.”

Something flashes through Owen’s eyes before he sets down the paperwork and clears his throat. “You’re right.”

TK feels like he’s missing something. “Dad…”

Owen shakes his head, but he takes a few steps towards the bed. He sits down on the side and his hand falls to TK’s blanket-clad knee. “You are in good hands,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to it that TK doesn’t understand.

Carlos has been quiet. Not overly so. He cried when TK woke up—it was the first time TK has ever seen him cry—and blurted out ‘I love you’ more times than TK could keep up with, but he’s been small too. He hasn’t taken up too much space or made too much noise. TK will catch him drifting out of conversation when their friends visit, focusing just on TK like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.

TK doesn’t know what happened to him, nothing more than the basics. He came to the ER, went to surgery, stayed in the ICU, and now he’s in IMC. Dr. Patel is his surgeon and Dr. Cegar is his critical care hospitalist and Del is his nurse. That’s it. That’s what he knows. He wonders if there are things he’s not being told.

“Dad,” TK repeats slowly.

He was cutting it close when he was on his run, that he knows. He wouldn’t have even crossed the scene he did if he didn’t need to take a shortcut to get to the hospital in time for his shift. Carlos would’ve been there by that point. He would’ve watched TK come through those doors. TK has a hazy, distorted memory of speaking to Carlos that morning, but that doesn’t seem right.

“Who worked on me that morning?” he asks carefully. “Before surgery.”

Owen meets his eyes, but it looks like it pains him to do so. “It was him.”

TK’s face falls and his heart sinks. No wonder he’s been gripping TK’s hand like a lifeline and hardly leaving this building. TK had to practically force him out today and Carlos looked guilty as hell for going. “It should not have been him,” TK whispers. He can’t imagine what that was like, to be responsible for saving someone you love.

If TK wouldn’t have made it, Carlos would’ve never forgiven himself.

“It was,” Owen repeats. “There was no one that was going to be able to take him from you. You were talking to him when you went down.”

TK closes his eyes as they threaten to well up with tears. I’m so sorry, baby, he thinks. He doesn’t want Carlos to ever have to know the fear that TK did when his mom came into the ER, and TK put him right in that situation.

“How did he even…” TK cuts himself off and shakes his head. His boyfriend has to be the strongest man he knows.

“Because he loves you.”

A puff of air falls from TK’s lips. When you love someone, you should have to make them dinner and listen to them talk about their day, not keep them alive after a GSW until trauma can get there. Regardless, TK is so grateful for him.

“Good because I love him,” TK says. He means those words now more than he did yesterday. He thinks tomorrow, he’ll find a way to mean it even more.

Carlos appears in the doorway a few minutes later with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a hesitant smile like he doesn’t want to interrupt. But TK lights up at the sight of him in his jeans and henley. He’s such a sight for sore eyes.

“Hi, baby,” he greets, and Carlos takes that as the go ahead to enter. He holds his hand out and Carlos only spares a small glance in Owen’s direction to see if he’s watching before his hand slips into TK’s.

“Hey.” He looks over at Owen for real this time. He nods. “Sir.”

Owen rolls his eyes and stands from the bed. He chooses not to comment on Carlos’ manners. “I’ll go see if your nurse is in the hall so we can leave.”

“I brought your clothes,” Carlos says as he sets the backpack by TK’s feet.

“Good. Get me out of here.”

Carlos shakes his head and holds out his hands like TK’s about to jump out of bed. “Hold on. You can’t get up yet.”

TK groans. “I do not need to be on alarms still. I’m going home in two minutes.”

“Then you’re still a patient for two more minutes,” Carlos corrects, and TK slumps back.

Carlos sits down at his hip and their thumbs are still stroking back and forth along each other’s knuckles. Carlos stares at him again and TK decides the two minutes are good for something.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Carlos’ face crumples—at the realization that TK knows or at the memories coming back to him, TK’s not sure. “Thank you for fighting,” Carlos whispers. His voice is shaky and TK is afraid those tears are going to come back. He pushes upright so he can collect Carlos’ cheeks in his palms.

“I’m so sorry you had to do that,” TK tells him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“‘S not your fault,” Carlos mumbles, and TK frowns. He can’t argue that and he can’t take away the trauma. All he can do is remind Carlos that he’s still here.

Leaning forward, he lets their lips find one another in a soft press until they’re interrupted with a silent, “Oh!”

TK leans back, looking over to find the nurse standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Sorry,” TK apologizes, and she waves him off. “Ready to go home?”

TK inhales deeply and smiles in relief. “Yes.”

***

Carlos looks at his fridge in despair.

“If I knew you were leaving today, I would’ve made sure I had some food here,” he says guiltily. He hasn’t really been home much since TK’s been in the hospital, and his fridge is full of mushy fruit, a few eggs, and half a tub of hummus. None of that is suitable for a meal.

“Babe, it’s fine. I had lunch before I left.”

That settles Carlos, at least for a little bit. He’ll have to come up with a dinner plan, but for now, he can be by TK’s side.

“Is the couch comfortable enough?” Carlos asks as he approaches TK. He deposited him here with a blanket and a glass of water earlier and TK has silently watched as he buzzed around the apartment, unable to stay still.

“Yes,” TK answers. He holds out his hand. “Sit with me?”

Carlos hesitates for a second too long and TK’s face falls, pulling his hand back to his lap.

“TK—”

“Did I do something?” he asks.

Carlos’ mouth feels tacky and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to answer that. TK didn’t do anything. Carlos feels like he’s the one who did something wrong.

“No,” he says firmly.

TK’s frown stays put and he looks uncomfortable in a way that has nothing to do with healing injuries. “It’s just… you’ve been by my side, but you feel distant. Or, like… I don’t know. Like you’re afraid I’m going to break.”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Carlos answers instantly. He’s not shying away from holding TK tight because his body was once nearly lifeless. If anything, that makes him want to hold tighter, but he doesn’t know if TK will want him to.

“Then what?” TK asks. Begs, pleads, demands to know, and Carlos doesn’t want him to keep blaming himself.

Timidly, he sits down on the edge of the couch. “I need to tell you something,” he says quietly.

TK’s brow furrows, but he’s not shying away from the conversation. “Okay.”

Carlos takes an inhale. He tries to start his sentence, but fails. It takes him another attempt before he finally gets the words out. “I feel like I’ve been hiding something from you. Not intentionally, but I know things, and you don’t know I know them, and that doesn’t feel fair.”

TK looks scared now. There are probably a dozen things running through his mind; no doubt the accurate assumption has made an appearance. “Carlos?” he asks, with a twinge of fear.

Carlos doesn’t want TK to think this is a dealbreaker or something he’d judge TK for by any means. When he thinks about his behavior, his hesitancy to be all over TK, he considers that TK might be assuming it’s not something he can handle. He immediately reaches for TK’s hand and TK clings back.

“You collapsed in my arms.”

TK’s eyes fall shut and he leans closer. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. He’s not upset about that. Maybe a little upset that TK wasn’t thinking about himself at all in the situation, letting his injuries go unnoticed for so long, but that’s the man Carlos loves and it all ended up okay in the end. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I worked on you. For a few terrifying minutes, you were my patient.”

“My dad told me earlier today,” he mentions, and Carlos nods in understanding. He wasn’t sure what TK knew, if anything.

“I was in your chart,” Carlos elaborates, in case it wasn’t clear what he’s getting at.

TK nods solemnly, pressing his lips together and averting his gaze. “Ah.”

Carlos watches him, feeling like he’s treading water. “You don’t have to explain, or… or—”

TK shakes his head and his hand slips from Carlos’ grasp so he can scrub at his face. “No. No, I should’ve long ago. I guess I’ve been hiding things from you too, but it was so long ago I— I’m sober. Eight years now.”

“That’s incredible, TK.”

Carlos feels a relief he didn’t know he’d be needing. Deep down, he knew TK wasn’t still using, but he could never be certain until he heard it from TK’s mouth. Now, Carlos has a whole new appreciation for TK’s strength.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, like he doesn’t exactly think the same way about it. He sighs. “I did stupid shit in high school and then got my act together. And then a year into working as an EMT, the stress and the loss was getting to me and… I started again. I was good at hiding it. Too good. I never went to work high and I never put people in danger. At least, I told myself I wasn’t. But I was. I ended up accidentally OD’ing. After that, I took time off to go to rehab. When I came back to work, that’s when I made the transition to the hospital instead of being a first-responder.”

It’s a lot to process, but Carlos knows it was a lot more to live through and to recap. “Thank you for telling me.”

TK gives him a small nod and he looks so small with his greasy hair, hunched shoulders, and soft blanket on his lap. “It was my parents' idea, actually. I wasn’t against it and I did like the idea of knowing what goes on after patients make it through the door. My mom and dad talked about it for a change of scenery and to not fall back into old habits, but… I don’t know. I think they wanted me at the hospital so they could keep a close eye on me.”

“They wanted you to be safe,” Carlos adds, and TK inhales slowly before letting it out.

“Yeah.” He blinks a few times and some of the fog clears. “I’m glad I did move to the hospital. I wouldn’t have met some of my favorite people.”

Hope blooms in Carlos’ chest. A light after so many days of darkness. “Yeah?”

TK gives him a small smile. “Like Nancy, Mateo, Marjan, Paul…”

Carlos blinks at him a few times while TK falls silent. And then a smirk takes over his face and he laughs at Carlos’ disgruntled face. Gripping Carlos’ cheeks, he leans forward and captures his mouth in a slow, drawn-out kiss. They haven’t been able to share one like this in days and it’s far from perfect—TK’s lips are chapped and neither of them have been on the best hygiene routine recently—but it still feels like coming home.

***

“The flight gets in at nine,” Carlos tells him after checking the text he got.

TK’s coffee is warm in one hand and Carlos is warm in the other, their clasped hands swaying between them as they navigate the few blocks between the subway station and the hospital doors. The mention of his parents’ flight sends a nervous bolt through TK’s system, but most of all, he’s excited.

“Are you meeting them there?”

Carlos purses his lips like he’s thinking and then lets out a small chuckle. “Probably for the best. They’d end up in New Jersey if they had to navigate it on their own.”

TK laughs, bumping Carlos’ shoulder. “Look at you, speaking like a true New Yorker.”

A small smile takes over Carlos’ face and he types back a one-handed response before slipping his phone into his pocket. “Do you want to come with?”

TK inhales, processing the question. He does. He wants to be by Carlos’ side, to be his partner in life, but there are some things he thinks Carlos needs to do alone. “You haven’t seen them since you left Texas. I think you should go alone and I’ll meet you at the restaurant later.”

“The restaurant that you still haven’t told me the name of?”

TK grins. “That’s the one.”

Carlos wrinkles his nose as they dodge and weave their way through the crowded sidewalk. “I told you we don’t have to go out for dinner. I’m plenty happy cooking for—”

“Carlos. It is your birthday dinner. You are not cooking,” TK says firmly, leaving no room for arguments.

Is TK a little stressed about having picked the right restaurant for the first birthday they’re spending together? Sure. Add meeting Carlos’ parents to that and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. He knows he’ll call Nancy no less than five times tomorrow night to help him decide if his outfit is appropriate enough. It’s only fair, though. Carlos has met Owen several times, and he’s even met Gwyn too on a sunny afternoon when he accompanied TK to the cemetery.

“Okay, but there’s a long time between the airport and dinner,” Carlos points out. “Maybe you can come with me as I show them around.”

TK had assumed Carlos would want some alone time with his family after not having seen them in so long. He was prepared to hang back and let them do their thing while they visit, but maybe he read the situation wrong. Maybe Carlos wants him there for comfort. In that case, TK is happy to join. He knows things are better with Carlos’ parents, but they still haven’t seen each other in person since Carlos cleared the air. There’s nothing like taking them around the city with TK to say ‘this is who I am’, and TK couldn’t be prouder.

“I’d love to,” TK answers.

The last few blocks are filled with chatter about the upcoming day. TK wonders if Carlos is nervous or excited and Carlos insists that it’ll be just like always. TK doesn’t think that’s true. After they dump their things in their lockers, the huddle for rounds is already forming in front of the first patient’s door. They’re not late by any means, but TK has been becoming better at introducing Carlos to the art of staying in bed for a few extra minutes. TK heads straight to the group while Carlos makes a slight detour to talk to Dr. Campbell, the senior resident from night shift.

“Nice of you boys to join us,” Nancy quips as they approach.

“It’s still two minutes to seven,” TK fires back and she rolls her eyes.

“Is this everyone?” Paul asks once Carlos joins them a few minutes later.

TK looks around the circle. All of his colleagues—his friends—stand in front of him. “Looks like it,” he says.

“Alright, Dr. Reyes,” Paul says. “Start us off.”

Carlos looks up in surprise. His brows pinch together. “You’re the attending now. Don’t you want to?” he questions, and Paul smiles.

“I thought I’d leave it to you as senior resident,” Paul decides, and TK fights a proud smile.

Only one more year to go with things how they are. TK’s not worried though. Tommy’s in the talks of scaling back and Paul’s a night owl who wants the night shift when there’s an opening. Pretty soon there’ll be an opening for an attending, and TK knows who’s going to be a shoe-in.

“Alright,” Carlos decides, unfolding the list in his pocket. “Bed one: Francis Beelz…”