#Tarlos Fanfiction One-shots

Earned it

The loft was quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that only came after a long shift. Carlos was stretched out on the couch, glasses perched on his nose as he read a novel, the soft rustling of pages the only sound filling the room. TK was beside him, curled up with his phone, lazily scrolling through Instagram. Every now and then, he'd hum thoughtfully before reading something out loud or shoving his screen toward Carlos.

"Look at this," TK grinned, holding up his phone. "This couple traveled to Santorini, and now I want us to go."

Carlos barely glanced up from his book but smirked. "Didn't you say that about Japan last week?"

TK gasped dramatically. "Excuse me for wanting to see the world with my fiancé."

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head before turning back to his book. TK went back to scrolling, pausing every now and then to read out a quote or laugh at a meme before nudging Carlos with his knee. It was easy, domestic, the kind of night that felt like home.

TK grinned as he came across another meme and turned his phone to Carlos. "Look at this. This is so us."

Carlos looked up from his book, his lips twitching as he read the text over an image of two guys lying on a couch, one reading, one glued to his phone. The caption read: "One of them: Engaged in deep intellectual pursuits. The other: Laughing at dog videos."

Carlos smirked, nudging TK's foot. "I feel called out."

TK chuckled, leaning into Carlos' side, still holding his phone but clearly more focused on him than whatever was on the screen. Carlos hesitated for a moment, then glanced over at TK before finally speaking the thought that had been on his mind. "Hey, babe... can I ask you something?"

TK hummed in response, not looking up.

Carlos shifted slightly, setting his book down. "I was just thinking about it the other day... you're dual-certified, right? Firefighter and paramedic?"

That caught TK's attention. He glanced up, brow furrowed slightly, before nodding. "Yeah... I mean, not anymore, technically. I'm just a paramedic now, obviously. But yeah, I trained for both."

Carlos studied his expression, noting the slight shift in TK's posture, the way his fingers tensed slightly around his phone. "Why did you want to do both?"

TK hesitated. It wasn't something he talked about often, not even with Carlos. He wondered if he should deflect, make a joke, change the subject. But the warmth in Carlos' eyes, the genuine curiosity, made him decide to just be honest. He set his phone down, shifting so he was facing Carlos more. "I always wanted to be a firefighter," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I mean, growing up, my dad was always in his firehouse. It was like his other family, and I wanted to be part of that. I guess... maybe I thought that if I followed in his footsteps, I wouldn't always feel like I came second to him."

Carlos' expression softened, his fingers lightly tracing over TK's knee, encouraging him to continue.

TK exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the window as he continued. "I was in recovery from my first drug abuse when I started working at the 252. It wasn't the oxy overdose, it was before that. I got into a bad bike accident in high school and got hooked on painkillers. I went to rehab, got clean, and then started at the 252 under my dad as a probie. But... everyone knew. They knew about the addiction, and they assumed I only got the job because my dad was the captain."

Carlos felt his chest tighten at the quiet way TK said it, like he had long since accepted that judgment but never fully let go of the weight it left on him. "Did they say that to you?"

TK let out a humorless chuckle. "Not to my face. But I heard them. Locker room talk, when they thought I wasn't there. 'Captain Strand's kid gets a second chance while the rest of us have to earn it.' Stuff like that." His jaw tensed, his hands clasping together as if holding onto something fragile. "It was like no matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, I was always just his kid. I could feel it every time I walked into a room. The looks, the whispered conversations. It was like everyone was waiting for me to fail. Like they expected me to relapse, like my presence there was just some sad ticking time bomb, and eventually, I'd prove them right."

Carlos reached for him then, his hand settling warm and steady on TK's thigh. "You weren't a ticking time bomb, TK," he said softly. "You earned your place."

TK shook his head slightly, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't feel like I did. So I decided to train as a paramedic too. I thought maybe if I had both certifications, if I had something separate from my dad's legacy, people would finally see me as me and not just 'Owen Strand's son.'"

Carlos exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "TK, you do deserve it. You're good at what you do—not because of your dad, not because of anything other than the fact that you're damn good at your job. You're one of the best first responders in this city, and you would have been even if Owen Strand had never stepped foot in Texas."

TK swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling tight. "Even now... sometimes I still feel like people doubt me. Like no matter what I do, I'll always be the 'coach's son.'"

Carlos frowned, his grip on TK's leg tightening slightly. "You really feel that way?"

TK gave a small nod. "It's something I fight every day."

Carlos shifted, taking TK's face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over his cheekbones. "You are so much more than Owen's son. You are brave and smart and insanely talented. I don't care what anyone says—you don't have to prove anything to anyone. You earned your place in this job. And more than that, you love it. You put people first, always. That's not because of your dad, Tyler. That's because of you."

Carlos' voice softened even more as he continued, his eyes searching TK's. "You are the man I fell in love with. The man who will check in on the kid who shot him, the man who will swim through ice to save a child. The man who will run into danger without hesitation because he can't stand the thought of someone else getting hurt. And you are the man I will marry and spend the rest of my life reminding of his worth, every single day."

TK melted, his breath catching as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Carlos'. "I love you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Carlos smiled, pressing a soft kiss to TK's lips. "I love you too."

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in, before Carlos pulled back, a smirk forming. "You hungry?"

TK blinked, a little caught off guard by the sudden shift. "I mean... yeah?"

Carlos stood up, stretching before heading toward the kitchen. "I'm making dinner. Something comforting."

TK perked up. "What kind of comfort food?"

Carlos grinned as he started gathering ingredients. "Sopa de pollo."

TK immediately sat up straighter. "Your mom's sopa de pollo?"

Carlos chuckled. "The one and only."

TK groaned happily, flopping back against the couch. "I love your mom's sopa de pollo."

Carlos shot him a knowing look. "I know."

TK just smiled, watching the love of his life move around the kitchen with practiced ease. He let himself sink into the warmth of their home, the weight of his insecurities lifting, even if just for tonight. Because Carlos was right. He had earned this life. And there was no one he'd rather share it with.

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