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2023-08-15
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shine some light on my day

Summary:

“We need to get up.”

“No.” TK twists his hand in Carlos’ sleep shirt. “Just wanna kiss you.”

Carlos tries again. “We have work.”

“So?”

...

TK and Carlos spend the morning getting ready together.

Notes:

Thank you to rmd-writes for the beta, and to stereopticons and jettestar for help with the music!! This prompt was originally given to me on Tumblr, and it was supposed to be something short and sweet but here we are lol! I hope you enjoy these soft husbands :)

Title from I Hear You Calling by Gob

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Carlos loves waking up first.

When he wakes up first, he gets to see TK dozing away next to him. TK, hair fluffed and matted to one side, rays of light bathing him in a soft, golden glow. Carlos knows that when TK rolls over there will be lines across his entire face from the way he smushes so fully into the pillow, mouth open slightly with soft snores—although he’d would thoroughly deny that.

He needs to get up. They both do. Their alarms were supposed to go off five minutes ago, but Carlos silenced them, wanting a few extra minutes to treasure the fact that he gets to wake up with this beautiful, wonderful man for the rest of his life. He keeps thinking the effect will wear off, but it never does. The same electricity that has sparked his nerve endings since he first laid eyes on TK thrums through him, burning hot and steady.

He rubs a gentle yet firm hand along TK's shoulder and presses a kiss against his neck. "Baby. It's time to wake up."

Carlos has seen TK wake up enough times to know that he always wakes up the same way. It starts with a twitch in his limbs, barely there unless you search for it. Then his nose scrunches, and he rubs his cheek against the pillow. The noises come next—quiet snuffles turning into a low noise at the back of his throat, somewhere between a hum and a groan. He shifts, muscles flexing and unflexing as he comes back to himself. Pools of green squint under long eyelashes before snapping shut again.

"Hi there," Carlos whispers, running a single finger down his cheek.

TK smiles dopily and turns into the touch. His eyes flutter open again. "Mmm, morning."

Carlos kisses him, a soft peck that leaves TK still puckered as he waits for more. When nothing happens, he frowns, making grabby hands. “Come back here.”

It’s no secret to anyone that TK isn’t a morning person, groggy and grouchy until he gets his caffeine fix. Carlos is the opposite. It’s likely a product of growing up at the ranch where many mornings, he and his father would wake with the sun. He’d get the fresh eggs collected and the heavy troughs filled before school and before the Texan heat set in. The habit has stuck with him all these years, so usually, it isn’t a struggle to get out of bed.

Of course, TK is making things much more difficult. It would be too easy to slip back under the covers again. To sling an arm around TK’s middle and hold him close, feeling the rise and fall of his deep breaths until he drifts off to sleep again.

Unfortunately, that’s not an option today.

“We need to get up.”

“No.” TK twists his hand in Carlos’ sleep shirt. “Just wanna kiss you.”

Carlos tries again. “We have work.”

“So?”

Carlos indulges TK, allowing him to tug him back down until their lips meet again. The kiss is sloppy and off center and warm, making his toes curl against the sheets.

The temptation to stay here all day devouring his husband grows stronger each second he stays in bed, but they're really going to be late if they don't get up. So reluctantly, he pulls apart from TK, who whines at the loss.

“So, we have to get out of bed so we aren’t late.” He wrinkles his nose. “And so I don’t have to smell your bad breath any longer.”

Morning breath has long stopped being a concern for either of them, but he needs to do something to get TK up.

"Hey! Yours isn't exactly minty fresh either," TK grumbles. He drops back down into the pillows and digs himself under the covers.

"Someone's in a mood this morning."

TK, voice muffled by the blankets, says, "Maybe because my husband is forcing me out of our warm, comfy bed way too early."

"Oh? This husband of yours sounds like a real jerk."

"The meanest."

"Uh-huh. Well, since I'm so mean, I guess I won’t stop and get pastries for us on our way to work.”

A pause. Then:

“Pastries?” TK asks in a small voice.

Got him. “Mmhm, from the place on 5th Street.” It’s one of TK's favorite bakeries, although Carlos hasn’t figured out if it's because of their delicious gluten-free sweets or their name—Defloured—which he cracks the same joke about every single time.

TK pops up from beneath the covers. His green eyes are big and bright against the white sheets. A smirk stretches across his face. Carlos knows what he’s about to endure.

“You want to get defloured?”

TK tries and fails to say it with a straight face. He holds out as long as possible, but soon dissolves into giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world and Carlos hasn’t heard it a hundred times already.

God, he’s so stupid. Carlos loves him.

Carlos snorts and rolls his eyes. “It’s not any funnier than it was last time.”

“When did you first get defloured, babe?” TK asks between his soft, adorable giggles. Carlos smiles in spite of himself. The joke might not be worth smiling over, but his ridiculous husband is.

Once TK has laughed himself out, Carlos nudges his side. “Come on, up you get. Let’s get ready to go.”

“Then pastries?”

"Then pastries.”

“And coffee.”

“I don’t remember promising coffee.”

TK glares at him. “You better be fucking with me.”

“Coffee, too,” Carlos promises. “I need it after dealing with you.”

TK kicks him, and Carlos moves off the bed with a laugh. TK’s feet get tangled in the bedding, and he mutters, “Stupid fucking blanket,” under his breath. He throws off all the covers after that, pulling himself out of bed alongside Carlos.

Carlos puts on his slippers which TK has dubbed “adorable grandpa slippers” on many occasions. He teased Carlos about them before realizing the concrete floors of the loft don’t lend themself to conserving heat. After that, he took to stealing them until Carlos got him his own.

TK is set on getting ready now that he’s up. He doesn't waste any time as he fishes through his side of the chest of drawers for something to wear.

“Babe, don’t you wanna finish getting all ready before you get dressed?” Carlos suggests.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to get toothpaste on yourself again.”

TK has a special talent of spilling things on himself, especially toothpaste. Because even when he brushes his teeth, he can’t stop moving and talking. Usually, Carlos sits back and lets it happen, figuring it’s inevitable, but they’re already running late; they don't need any incidents holding them up.

“I won’t,” TK insists, tossing an exasperated look over his shoulder.

Carlos hums. Good thing he finished the laundry yesterday.

They get ready side-by-side in the bathroom. Even though they have two vanities, space is limited, so they’re squished against each other. TK accidentally elbows him multiple times (and one time, when Carlos teases him about his hair, on purpose). Products get knocked over again and again.

It should be annoying, but it isn’t. Because Carlos wants to share all his moments with TK, from the good to the bad to the mundane. And even if that means crowding each other in the bathroom, Carlos will take it.

TK reaches for the dual toothbrush holder between the sinks and grabs the red toothbrush. Carlos' hand stills where he's fixing his hair. Because wait—no, that’s not right.

His hand darts out to catch TK’s wrist.

“What is it?” TK asks.

“That’s my toothbrush.”

TK tilts his head as he looks at it. “I thought mine was the red one?”

“No, yours is the blue one.” He massages his brow. “TK, have you been using my toothbrush this whole time?!”

TK blinks.

“Are you sure mine is blue?”

“Yes!”

Well, time for a new toothbrush. It’s a good thing he keeps a couple spares around just in case. But where did he put them? He searches the drawers, not finding anything.

“Where are the extras?”

“Why do you have extras?”

“In case something like this happens!”

“This is really bugging you, huh?”

Carlos pauses with a huff. “It’s…it’s unsanitary.”

TK snorts. “Babe, out of all the unsanitary things we’ve done, I think sharing toothbrushes is at the very bottom of the list.” Then, as casual as one would be when talking about the weather, he adds, “Like when my dick was in your mouth last night.”

“TK.”

“What? Don’t you remember?” TK teases, pushing himself against Carlos and walking fingers up his chest. “Or maybe you need a reminder?”

Fuck, Carlos does remember. That’s the problem. TK is making it his mission to unravel Carlos, and it’s not even 8 o’clock yet.

“Work,” Carlos reminds him. TK rolls his eyes. He squishes out a huge dollop of toothpaste onto the brush and shoves it in his mouth. He glares at Carlos as if to say, happy now?

Carlos continues his search for the extra toothbrushes, finally finding them crammed in the back of a bottom drawer. He tears open the packaging.

“You’re actually getting a new toothbrush out?” TK asks, muffled by where his Carlos’ toothbrush sticks out of the side of his mouth. The words are hard to make out, but Carlos is well-versed in every type of TK talk.

“It’s just the principle of it,” Carlos says as he runs the new toothbrush under the tap. “When I brush my teeth, I’m trying to get my mouth clean, not get more germs.”

TK pauses his brushing once more. “Are you saying I have a dirty mouth?”

“Filthy.”

TK busts out laughing. Foamy toothpaste sprays all over the bathroom—across the mirror, on the cabinets, and of course, all over Carlos.

“ TK! ”

TK goes red in the face as he tries to hold back more laughter. He squeaks out, “Oops.”

“Yeah, oops.” He pinches his shirt, pulling it away from his chest. Toothpaste spots cover his front.

“I mean, it is kinda your fault.”

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“You made me laugh!” Which, okay, fair. Carlos knows better than to make TK laugh when he’s brushing his teeth. Maybe it was kind of his fault, though he would never admit that to TK.

He goes to assess the damage on TK, expecting the worst, but by some miracle, TK doesn’t have a single speck on him. Carlos’ surprise must show on his face, as TK immediately leans forward over the counter to inspect for himself.

A smug grin spreads across his face. “Ha! Spotless. Told you.” At his words, a line of drool and toothpaste drips down his front.

Carlos laughs.

TK wields his toothbrush in front of him like a weapon. “Fuck you.” Carlos keeps laughing.

At least TK is smart enough to rinse and spit out the rest of the toothpaste after that. Carlos brushes his own teeth while TK tries and fails to get the toothpaste off his outfit.

Once Carlos rinses out his mouth, he says, “Bet you’re wishing you were still wearing your pajama shirt now.”

“You’re the worst.” TK drops the wet cloth on the counter.

“What happened to so desperately wanting to kiss me?”

TK’s eyes flicker across his lips. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Carlos pins him against the edge of the counter with his hips. Droplets of water cling to TK’s mouth, and there’s a smudge of toothpaste on his chin. Carlos tips his head up with a finger, wiping the spot off with his thumb, then smashes their lips together. Their mouths are sticky, but neither care as their tongues curl and flick against each other. At least they’re both minty-fresh.

They break apart, panting, but when Carlos swoops in for another, TK pats his cheek and steps away.

“Work, babe,” TK singsongs.

Payback’s a bitch, he supposes. Or maybe it’s TK.

They finish getting ready, and Carlos does a quick clean-up job of the toothpaste mess. The counter is still sticky, but it will have to be good enough for now because they’re really going to be late if they don’t leave soon. Carlos changes into a casual outfit, glad he doesn’t put on his uniform until he gets to work or else TK would never let him leave the house. TK has already changed into a fresh shirt, but he’s still grumbling about it.

They’re out the door, and Carlos thinks by some miracle, they might be early, when TK shouts, “Wait!” and rushes back into the loft over to Lou II's giant tank.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot to say goodbye to you, buddy!” TK says. “Have a good day. Get lots of basking in! Daddy will let you out when he gets back.”

Great. That’s something Carlos gets to look forward to after work. Still, he can’t help but smile at his husband and his adoration for the reptile.

They do make it out the door, after that. Carlos unlocks his car and puts their stuff in the back.

“No patrol car today?” TK asks as he hops into the passenger side of the Camaro. “That’s too bad. I’ve always wanted to take a ride in the back.”

“You literally got arrested.”

“Yeah, but not in the back of your patrol car. You always make me sit up front if we take it.”

“So you want me to arrest you?”

TK throws himself across the console between them. “Please, officer. I’ve been a bad boy.”

“What did you do?”

“Uh…” TK blinks, obviously not thinking he’d make it this far. “I—I stole something! So what’s my punishment gonna be?”

“What did you steal?”

“A fuck ton of condoms and lube.”

“Were these all for personal use?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“And what store did you steal these from?”

“Carlos,” he laughs breathily.

“Hey, I’m just trying to get all the information here. A serious crime has been committed. And as for your punishment…” TK sits up straighter. “First, I’m gonna take you down to the station to process you. Then, I’ll fill out some paperwork. You might have to pay a fine.”

“Sexy. I don’t know how you don’t jump every criminal at work.”

“Because I only have eyes for my criminal husband.”

TK snort-laughs. There’s no better way to start the morning than unhinged conversations with his husband.

As usual, TK plugs his phone into the aux to take control of the music. He scrolls through what Carlos knows to be an unending list of playlists and songs. Carlos doesn’t mind—he’s never been too passionate about music, not like TK. Early in their relationship, he made the mistake of keeping the stereo off when he picked TK up one night. TK hopped in the car, and went to give Carlos a greeting kiss when he froze and, as if he were personally betrayed, asks, “Why the hell is it dead silent in here?” He proceeded to get lectured on how listening to nothing in the car, or listening to anything other than music, is “deranged behavior.”

Ever since, TK’s made it his mission to educate Carlos in the pinnacle of music (TK’s words).

“Oh, Gob!” TK exclaims. Carlos jumps in his seat.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Gob, babe. You have to listen to this one. It’s from their Foot in Mouth Disease album which isn’t their most popular, but it’s by far the best.” A song that Carlos can only describe as in your face blasts through the speakers. The bass vibrates in his chest.

Gob. Foot in Mouth Disease. Carlos swears TK purposefully chooses to listen to the artists with the strangest names. Last week, it was Bikini Kill and Blind Melon.

What he doesn’t tell TK is that he could listen to his music all day. Not because of the songs themselves, but because they’re TK’s favorites. Because every time he hears them, he pictures TK in the seat next to him, bobbing his head to the beat and sing-shouting the lyrics with a carefree grin on his face like he is right now.

As promised, Carlos makes a pit stop at Defloured. Sunflowers bloom in a window box. Even outside, there’s a strong scent of sugar and dough.

TK skips up to the display cabinet, staring at the pastries with the awe of a little kid. Once they get their food and coffees, Carlos finds them a free table nestled in the corner.

“You were in such a hurry this morning, and now you wanna eat here?” TK asks.

“I don’t want you spilling in my car.”

“I’m not going to—” he cuts himself off as Carlos raises his brow. TK huffs. “Okay, yeah. That’s probably fair.

The food here really is delicious. Before the whole wedding cake fiasco, Carlos didn't think much of gluten-free desserts. Done right, like this bakery, they can be as delicious as anything with gluten.

TK guzzles his iced coffee, then moves on to inhaling his apple turnover. He moans obscenely the whole time he eats it.

“Do you two want to be alone?” Carlos teases.

“I can’t help it! It’s so good.”

After finishing his turnover, he steals pieces of Carlos’ blueberry frosted scone. Typical TK. Carlos had learned to expect he’ll never get his meal to himself when TK is around.

Carlos pops the last piece in his mouth, finishing it off with a lick of his fingers.

“You should’ve let me lick those clean.”

“Because you wanted to lick my fingers or because you wanted more of my scone?”

“It can be both.”

They finish and hurry back to the car. TK’s shift starts in less than 20 minutes, and they have to leave now if they’re going to make it in time with Austin traffic.

They spend the rest of the ride chatting about their plans for after the shift. Who needs to get what groceries, what chores need to be done, which night they’re going to have dinner with Carlos’ mom. It reminds him of conversations his parents had; as a child, he never understood the excitement in their voices over a new vacuum or the new food at the neighborhood mercado. Now he does. And after everything he and TK have been through to get here, they deserve getting pastries or having a night-in as their excitement for the day.

Carlos pulls up in front of the fire station. He gets out of the car with TK, not willing to part until the last possible second. TK swings his backpack over his shoulders. Carlos closes the car door for him and drags him in for a half-hug and gentle, coffee-flavored kiss.

“Have a good day. Be safe,” Carlos says.

“You, too,” TK replies. His palm caresses the side of Carlos’ face. “I love you.”

“I love you. See you after work.”

TK smiles, and with a final squeeze to Carlos’ arm, turns and walks into the station. Inside, Marjan and Paul wave to Carlos. He waves back, then gets back into his car.

Carlos looks at the time. His shift doesn’t start for another hour. He knows he could've stayed at home and relaxed longer, let TK get up and go to work alone.

But getting to spend the morning with his husband? That’s worth everything.

Notes:

This story was 100% inspired by me spilling toothpaste on myself every morning!! I truly never learn.

Also, in case you were wondering, Defloured is a real bakery (in Chicago)!

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!! :) And please come and chat with me on Tumblr @rosedavid! 💕