#Tarlos Fanfiction One-shots

Domestic Bliss

For nearly a month, their lives had become a game of passing ships. TK would come home just as Carlos was leaving, the brief moments they shared in the loft reduced to hurried exchanges of "Good morning. Take care," and "Have a good rest." It was efficient, practical even, but it was slowly driving TK insane.

He hated it. For the first time since he became a first responder, a job he loved and took pride in, TK resented the life of unpredictable schedules. He had signed up for the chaos of saving lives, but he hadn't signed up for the ache of barely seeing the man he loved.

Their texts were constant, little lifelines to keep them tethered. Miss you from TK, followed by Miss you more from Carlos. Photos of meals Carlos had made or snapshots of TK in the rig during downtime. It was something, but it wasn't enough. TK longed for the warmth of Carlos's arms, for the sound of his laugh, for the simple comfort of just being in the same space for more than five minutes.

What helped, though, were the little acts of love that Carlos managed to sneak into their mismatched routine. Every few nights, Carlos would prepare a meal for TK before heading out for his shift, leaving it in the fridge with a sticky note stuck to the container. Each note had something different: Eat this or else! I love you, or Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy loving you. TK would heat the meal, sit at their dining table alone, and think about how lucky he was to have someone who cared for him so deeply, even when they were barely crossing paths.

One night, TK warmed up a perfectly cooked chicken Alfredo that Carlos had left for him, the aroma filling the empty loft. He sat at the table, his heart aching and full all at once, staring at the note Carlos had left that read, Save me a bite? Just kidding. I love you more than you love pasta. TK chuckled softly to himself, twirling a forkful of pasta as he whispered to no one, "God, I love that man."

Despite the distance, those meals became a source of comfort for TK—a reminder that even if they weren't together physically, Carlos was always thinking of him, always taking care of him. Still, TK couldn't help but count down the days until their schedules would finally align and he wouldn't have to eat alone anymore.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, their schedules aligned, and they were granted the same weekend off. TK counted down the days like a kid waiting for Christmas. When Friday evening arrived, he was already at the loft, nervously pacing the living room as he waited for Carlos to walk through the door.

When Carlos finally did, TK practically launched himself across the room. "You're home!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Carlos and burying his face in his neck.

Carlos chuckled, his hands instinctively going to TK's back. "I missed you too, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to TK's temple.

"You have no idea," TK mumbled into Carlos's shoulder. "No idea how much I missed you."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Carlos replied, pulling back just enough to look at TK. "You're crushing me."

"Good," TK said with a pout, tightening his hold. "You're not allowed to go anywhere."

Carlos laughed, his heart swelling at how adorable TK could be. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

That set the tone for the weekend. TK was glued to Carlos's side, refusing to let him out of his sight for even a moment. Carlos didn't mind. He missed TK just as much, and the way TK clung to him only made him feel more loved.

On Saturday morning, Carlos woke up to find TK sprawled across the bed, his face tucked into the pillow and his arm thrown haphazardly over Carlos's chest. Carlos smiled, running his fingers gently through TK's hair. "Good morning, baby," he said softly.

TK stirred, groaning as he pulled the blanket over his head. "No morning. Only sleep."

Carlos laughed. "You're such a baby."

"I missed you, and now I'm here, and I'm not moving," TK mumbled from under the blanket.

"Fine by me," Carlos said, leaning down to kiss the top of TK's head.

Eventually, TK did get up, but only because Carlos promised him pancakes. They spent the morning in the kitchen, Carlos cooking while TK sat on the counter, swinging his legs and chattering about everything and nothing. Carlos couldn't stop smiling.

When the pancakes were ready, TK insisted they eat on the couch, cuddled under a blanket. Carlos didn't argue. They spent the rest of the day in a bubble of domestic bliss—watching movies, napping, and just enjoying each other's presence. TK's head rarely left Carlos's shoulder, and Carlos's hand was almost always resting on TK's leg or holding his hand.

That evening, they decided to cook dinner together. It was more chaotic than Carlos anticipated, with TK insisting he knew how to dice onions properly despite clearly not knowing, but Carlos wouldn't have traded it for anything.

"Careful, baby," Carlos said, watching TK struggle with a knife. "You're going to lose a finger."

"I'm a professional," TK replied, sticking his tongue out.

Carlos shook his head, laughing. "Professional disaster, maybe."

When dinner was finally ready, they sat at the table, candles lit, and shared a meal that was far from perfect but filled with love. TK kept reaching across the table to steal bites from Carlos's plate, and Carlos pretended to be annoyed even though he secretly loved it.

On Sunday, they didn't even bother getting out of bed until noon. TK sprawled across Carlos's lap as they watched the rain patter against the window. "I hate that our schedules are so messed up," TK said, tracing patterns on Carlos's arm.

"I know," Carlos replied, running his fingers through TK's hair. "But weekends like this make up for it, don't they?"

TK looked up at him, his eyes soft and filled with love. "You make up for it."

Carlos leaned down, kissing him gently. "You're my favorite person, you know that?"

"Good," TK said with a smile. "Because you're stuck with me."

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of lazy affection—hand-holding, whispered "I love yous," and stolen kisses. By the time Sunday evening rolled around, TK felt like his heart was full to bursting.

As they lay in bed that night, Carlos held TK close, his arms wrapped securely around him. "Thank you," TK whispered.

"For what?" Carlos asked, pressing a kiss to TK's temple.

"For being mine," TK said softly. "For making me feel like the luckiest guy in the world."

Carlos smiled, his heart swelling with love. "You've got it backwards, baby. I'm the lucky one."

They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, the world outside fading away. For the first time in weeks, they felt whole again. They knew the chaos of their jobs would return soon enough, but for now, they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

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