Work Text:
Light chatter fills the firehouse as TK drums his fingers against the counter, waiting for his toast to pop out.
It's unsettling.
The noise usually calms him, but that's only when he's surrounded by his family. He finds himself wondering what wild or possibly even mundane call Tommy and Nancy are currently dealing with right now. TK wonders if they miss him as much as he does them or if — he frowns — if his absence made them happier.
His toast pops up, cutting off his thoughts. TK puts the still-hot slices onto his plate then opens the cupboard above him, pulling out a mug for his coffee. He contemplates spreading some of that sugar-free jam his dad stocked the fridge full of but decides better of it.
The trucks are still out, and probably will be for at least the next half hour. His old man will never know if he uses butter instead. He goes over to the fridge, bypassing all the healthy Tupperware containers and snacks his father has deftly labeled 'TK's - don't touch!'
"Hey TK!" Rahim calls from somewhere behind him.
TK startles, nearly dropping the tub in his fright. He's sure he looks proper chastised, like a kid who got caught doing something they shouldn't. Which is — stupid. He's 27. A grown man.
Rahim chuckles. "Sorry man," the apology is clear in his tone, "I was just coming in to tell you your boy is here."
TK positively lights up at that, food momentarily forgotten. "No worries, thanks for letting me know." He puts the tub back in the fridge, "I'll be right there."
"No need," Carlos' deep, warm voice filters into the kitchen. The taller man's wide grin pointed at TK never fails to knock the wind out of him just a little.
His full head of dark curls are out, an unusual sight when he's on the clock. Carlos didn't have time to gel his hair down this morning due to TK…distracting him, a consequence he thanks his past self for greatly.
His sharp, angular jaw is covered in light brushes of scruff, another thing TK thanks his past self for in convincing Carlos to start growing it out. The man's uniform strains against his tan, muscled frame, a sight TK will never tire of.
"Hi," TK beams at him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Rahim exit the kitchen.
"Hi," Carlos replies, low and teasing as he strides forward. He pulls TK to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him.
TK hums into the kiss, separating after one (two) more pecks. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, babe, but what are you doing here?" TK tries to think back to Carlos’ schedule, realizing he should actually be done for the day since he was only partially covering someone else’s shift.
"Wanted to see if we could have lunch today, sweetheart." Carlos smiles down at him, thumb brushing over TK's hip in an absent-minded motion. "Although, I should be asking you that question instead. I didn't see the ambulance in the bay, why'd you stay back?" He straightens, large hands suddenly wandering over TK's body, concerned eyes roaming over his face. "Are you okay? Were you hurt on a call?"
"No, I'm fine," TK bats his hands away. "Well — no!" TK is quick to reassure when the look of concern on his boyfriend's face skyrockets, the crease between his brows deepening. "I didn't get hurt, I promise. I got out in time, no harm no foul."
"No harm, no foul?" Carlos sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. "What happened, baby?"
TK shrinks in on himself. That tone was all too reminiscent of the same one his dad loved to use, that bone-deep tiredness at hearing about another dumb stunt TK pulled that put him right in the line of danger.
"Hey, hey." TK feels a gentle grip on his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You’re okay. We’re okay. Where'd you go, baby boy? You still with me?" The older man's other hand busies itself with softly combing through the locks at the nape of TK's neck.
And he absolutely melts.
A steady flush is climbing up his neck, and he's sure his face isn't faring any better. "I—" he clears his throat. "I'm still here. I just — don't be mad, okay?" He untangles himself from their embrace and makes his way over to the coffee pot and still-empty mug he brought out earlier. Some distance would do him some good right about now, going down is the last thing he'd want to happen at work.
Carlos huffs out a laugh. "If there's one thing I've learned in my years of knowing you, T, it's that I couldn't be mad at you even if I tried."
The side of his lips quirks up in a smile as he pours the steaming pot of coffee into the mug. Carlos is beside him again, but keeps a respectable distance, hips leaning against the counter. He's silent, giving TK time to gather his thoughts.
He dallies, pulling the tin of sugar towards himself. "There was another girl in the house,” TK starts softly. “Rosa. Nobody knew she was there except her girlfriend; she was hiding when the fire started.” His eyes are boring into the dark countertops, unseeing. “The smoke was beginning to turn black, but Beth just became coherent enough to tell me about her. A-And, Tommy and Nance were focused on her parents, the guys were worried about keeping the fire from spreading to the other houses. So, I was the only one who knew where she was and could help her.” TK shakes his head. “Before you say anything, I know it was stupid. Believe me. Dad wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.”
TK can feel Carlos’ gaze on him. He really doesn’t need to hear another person telling him what a dumbass he’s been today.
“And you’re sure you weren’t hurt?” Is all he says. His tone is a strange mix of incredulity and…awe?
The question surprises him. TK’s eyes widen as he turns to look at his boyfriend, mouth dropping open slightly in shock. “I — uh,” TK sputters. “Yeah, I’m not hurt. We weren’t hurt. I…borrowed Mateo’s coat and used that as a cover for both of us. Turns out Rosa’s uncle is a firefighter so she knew what to do to stay safe.”
Carlos hums, unmistakably impressed. “Now, I won’t say what you did wasn’t dangerous, but you already know that. I don’t need to pile it on. And, yes, it would do my blood pressure some good to know you won’t take any more unnecessary risks,” TK chuckles at that. “But, sweetheart, you managed to get the both of you out safely without any further injury, especially as someone who’s over a year removed from any rigorous firefighter training. That’s—” Carlos shakes his head. “God, you’ll never cease to amaze me.”
TK’s cheeks grow hot at the praise, a shy smile playing on the edge of his lips. He’s glad at least one person is happy with him. TK says as much to the older man.
"I’m glad you seem to think so. Everybody else? Not so much. Dad joked I should probably sit out the next few calls, take the time to remind myself I'm a paramedic now — not a firefighter. S’why I was left behind." TK lets out a self-deprecating laugh, turning his focus back on the coffee cup. He adds half a teaspoon of sugar before stirring it and takes a sip, grimacing. Yup, just the way Carlos likes it. TK goes to pass the steaming hot cup and looks up at him, slightly startled at the look on his boyfriend's face.
His mouth forms a grim line, a flicker of irritation in his features before it smoothes over quickly. So quickly, TK thinks for a second he imagined it. "Thank you, baby," Carlos says softly as he takes the coffee, leaning in to press a kiss against his temple. "You're so good to me." TK preens, a light dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. "And Tommy agreed?" Carlos asks with a quirked brow, his tone carefully devoid of emotion.
"Just for this one," TK tries to appease, placing a hand on the older man's bicep. "I'll be officially out of time-out when they get back," TK tries to laugh it off, but Carlos isn't budging. "Besides, s'probably for the best anyway. I wouldn't want to burden the team with possibly having to rescue one more person just because I'm being stupid."
Carlos immediately straightens, a pained expression overtaking his features before he turns away. TK can visibly see him breathe in and out, defined arms and shoulders tightly wound into an almost hunched position. TK realizes with a start — he’s angry.
They’ve had numerous conversations — some (most) ending in tears on one or both of their parts about TK’s negative self-talk. Carlos has worked tirelessly on showering him with compliments daily, taking the time to tell him all the things he loves about TK, spending hours pressing it into the grooves of the most sensitive parts of his skin so he doesn’t forget.
Carlos writes little love notes and tucks them into random places around their home he knows TK would look — inside his favorite pair of running shoes, clipped on top of his bag of veggie chips in their pantry, inside the pocket of his feather-soft yellow hoodie. Messages that never repeat. TK often wonders how, after nearly two years, Carlos still hasn’t run out of kind things to say about him.
He whispers the most beautiful words to TK in Spanish when he thinks the younger man is asleep, something he discovered after being just coherent enough a time or two (five) and scrambled out of bed to search for the translation on his phone in poorly worded Spanish when Carlos himself succumbed to sleep.
But — and TK’s not proud of it — it’s practically second nature for him. Having heard it from one person or another for most of his life, he’s learned to beat people to the punch.
"I was just joking, Carlos."
"You weren't," he says, voice tight and measured. Carlos drops the mug down on the counter, tense back still facing TK. "I need you to really hear me when I say this." He slowly turns around.
"Seriously," TK shuffles between his feet, finding interest in the cement floors. His stomach tightens uncomfortably. "It's not a big deal."
"Tyler."
TK's eyes snap up to meet his gaze at the use of his first name. Those deep brown eyes are practically piercing into his soul. It takes everything in him not to look away. TK swallows, throat feeling tight, fidgeting as Carlos strides forward to close the gap between them. A large, warm hand overtakes the side of his face and, really, he can't be blamed for leaning into it.
"You could never be a burden."
Tears prickle at the back of his eyes. "Carlos—"
"You're not stupid. You're not too much, baby. Never too much. Fuck, I can't get enough of you. What you've dealt with, what you're dealing with, is burdensome. But, baby, you?" Carlos' other hand comes up to cup his face, his thumb reaching out to swipe away an errant tear. "You could never be a burden."
Carlos doesn't break eye contact. The sincerity in his tone is like a punch in the gut. It's hard to believe yet impossible not to when he says it like that. TK doesn't know what to say. "I—" he tries, choking up some more, more tears rolling down his cheeks.
The familiar rumble of the fire trucks and the ambulance car pulling into the bay fills the air, soon after replaced by the excited chatter of his friends, no doubt talking about the call they had all just been on. The sound of hordes of heavy boots slaps against the cement floors, most of which seem to be getting closer to the kitchen.
TK sniffs. He doesn’t want his family to see him like this. He doesn’t want his dad to see him like this. There’s a brief moment of panic, his chest tightening when he feels more tears cascading down his cheeks. He wants to reel it in, put it all back into a box, but he can't. The realization makes him panic more.
“Listen to me, sweet boy. Are you with me?” Carlos says softly, though his tone is urgent. TK nods shakily, sniffing again. The chatter and boisterous laughter grows closer. “I need you to go to the washroom, the one by the linen closet that no one goes to, and splash some water on your face. Can you do that for me, mí amor?” Another shaky nod. “Good boy.” TK’s breath hitches in his throat and he has an honest to God full body shudder. Carlos frowns, that damn worry line deepening between his brows. “D’you need me to go with you, baby?”
“Please.”
It’s a miracle, really, how TK is still standing. It’s taking everything in him not to fall boneless against Carlos. The only thing giving him the will to fight against it being the fact that they’re in public, his place of work. Carlos pulls TK close, turning them both around to the closest exit, a grounding hand pressing at the small of his back.
“TK, bro, you missed a big one!” He hears Mateo’s jovial voice at the other kitchen entrance. “These three kids dared each other to — wait. Did I just interrupt something?”
He hears Carlos mutter a curse under his breath. Carlos lightly presses more force against his back. “Go, I’ll meet you there.” TK hesitates and Carlos, of course, notices. “I promise,” he says lowly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Carlos!” Owen exclaims from behind Mateo, the others filtering in slowly. TK doesn't dare turn around. Just the sound of his dad's voice makes him grimace. “What a nice surprise. What brings you in today?”
“Uh…Cap? I don’t think now’s the time,” Paul chimes in, hand resting over the man’s shoulder when he makes a move forward.
Carlos turns to face the group, all hard lines and stiff posture. “Owen.” Carlos nods once, curt. He folds his arms across his chest.
TK doesn’t waste another second in the kitchen, skittering away from the stilted room. He pointedly avoids the curious glances of other firehouse members, nearly rejoicing when the washroom comes into view. TK enters in a hurry, locking the door behind himself.
His eyes close shut. He can almost hear Carlos’ low voice counting to six against his ear, telling him to breathe in and then out for another three. TK does this four more times and his shoulders relax when the tightness in his throat and stomach uncoil. TK opens his eyes and openly stares at his reflection.
The whites of his eyes are tinged red from crying, wet eyelashes clumped together. His skin isn’t faring any better, wet cheeks blotched an unflattering pink all the way down to his neck as well as the tip of his nose and ears.
TK sighs, turning on the tap for cold water. He cups some water in his palms and splashes his face, pressing his palms firmly against the apples of his cheeks. “Stop it,” he murmurs to his reflection. “You’re fine. Quit overreacting.”
A soft knock at the door interrupts his pep talk. “It’s just me, baby. Can I come in, T?” Carlos calls through the thick door.
Without a second thought, TK flicks the lock open, stepping back to let his man come in. The older man slips in, closing the door behind him. Carlos takes one look at him and opens his arms. TK wordlessly takes the offer, clinging onto the now bunched up material of his button-up around his waist.
Carlos kisses the crown of TK’s head before pulling away, still making sure to keep an arm around him when he reaches for the paper towel dispenser. Carlos carefully wipes off the remnants of water from his face before he speaks.
“Tommy and I spoke, thought it’d be best if you head out early for today. Start fresh tomorrow.” He balls up the paper towel and chucks it at the open trash can. “This is completely up to you, T. You could stay and show everyone what a kickass paramedic I know you are." That pulls a slight grin from TK, one Carlos mirrors. "But, right now, you need a space that'll let you decompress and you can't do that here. It's been an emotional day and I want to take care of you, baby."
TK buries his head into Carlos' chest, breathing him in. "Take me home, Carlos."
***
When they get into the loft, TK is filled with nervous energy. He watches with rapt attention as Carlos drops the keys into a bowl by the door. The older man nods towards their bedroom, "head in. I'll be right behind you." He reaches for the gun in his holster and keeps the muzzle pointed down.
Carlos double-checks that the safety is on before he unloads it in one fluid movement, the magazine dropping down into his open palm. He opens the action and checks the chamber before closing it back, all while walking over to the safe to put it up.
Guns have never been TK's favorite thing in the world, even less so after he got shot. So Carlos always makes it a point to put his up as soon as he comes home. Carlos knows it puts TK at ease to see him disarm it and put it out of sight, so heading to the bedroom now was merely a suggestion. But, TK also knows Carlos expects him to start making his way there by the tail-end of the process, so he does just that.
TK's nerves are frayed at the edges. Carlos didn't give him any further instructions, but he figures undressing is the safest bet. TK toes off his shoes and tucks them on their shoe rack. His belt is next and the rest of his clothes, briefs included, soon after, the methodical process helping him get rid of some of that nervous energy. It threatens to come back ten-fold when he sits down at the edge of their bed in wait, jittery hands forced to lay still on the top of his thighs.
It's as if Carlos hears his thoughts, the door to their bedroom sliding open to reveal his boyfriend. The man's large hands are holding the neck of two cold mineral water bottles, a glass Tupperware of cut-up fruit with a fork balanced on top, and a bar of chocolate.
He drops the items on the nightstand. TK doesn't turn to look, but he can hear the buttons of Carlos' shirt flicking open. Smooth expanses of hard, tan skin reveals itself as Carlos slides off his shirt. TK tries not to pout at his singlet still obstructing his view. He realizes he's not successful when Carlos chuckles lowly. TK is decidedly not smug when that, too, comes off. (He's not!)
TK is already half-hard at the sight of that chiseled chest that leads down to hard abs and a tapered v, soft, sparse trail of hair starting from his navel and disappearing into his uniform pants. Those damn pants. TK needs them off like yesterday.
Carlos bends, unlacing his shoes to slip them off and put them away. His pants follow in quick succession, but — a confused sound leaves his lips — his briefs stay on. The tight material clings to the hard meat of his thighs, the thick bulge between his legs straining against the fabric.
The older man stands over him, passing a soothing hand over his boyfriend's hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. TK blinks owlishly up at him and Carlos' eyes soften. He leans down to kiss him, an embarrassing little noise leaving TK's lips when he gently tugs at the strands. Carlos nips at his bottom lip, tongue slipping into his mouth in a sweet, intricate dance. TK chases after him when he pulls away and is awarded a chaste kiss in return.
"I love you so much, Tyler." It's whispered against his lips like it's a precious secret.
"I love you." He does. He really, really does. Even those words sometimes don't feel like enough to convey just how much Carlos lights him up from the inside and makes him feel like he's on fire.
Carlos shoves a muscular knee between TK's legs, the welcome pressure against his dick making a moan rip out his throat. "Fuck," TK hisses. Carlos grips his shoulders and gently pushes him back against the mattress. He shifts his hands down to TK's waist and briefly picks him up, pushing him higher on the mattress.
TK feels himself harden even more at that. His body buzzes in anticipation when Carlos' hovering body reaches over to their nightstand and pulls out a half empty bottle of lube. TK reaches down to tug at his boyfriend's underwear but Carlos is faster.
Carlos shakes his head. "It's not about me right now."
"But—" TK's protest is cut short.
"D'you trust me, darling?"
TK is already nodding before Carlos even finishes his sentence. "Of course I do. You know I do." Carlos' palm rests heavy on the side of his face; it's like a cool balm on his scorching hot skin. And they haven't even done anything yet.
"Then let me take care of you."
The breath leaves TK's lungs for a moment. "Okay," it comes out weak, but Carlos hears him all the same.
Carlos' thumb brushes against TK's bottom lip, pulling it down just a little. On instinct, TK's tongue darts out, licking it into his mouth. The older man's eyes darken at the sight, lust-blown pupils watching his every move with rapt attention.
"D'you remember your safeword, cariño?" His voice is gruffer than usual.
TK just nods, mouth busying itself with flicking at the pad of his thumb.
He tuts. "Words, darling. Y'know the rules."
"Forest," TK says.
"Good boy." TK smiles around his digit at the praise, heart fluttering in his chest. Carlos rewards him by replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger. TK enthusiastically sucks on the two fingers, thoroughly coating them in his spit. "Fuck, you're perfect." Carlos gently pulls his fingers out, leaving TK gasping, wanting the digits back in his mouth. "So pretty, baby." Carlos whispers more to himself than to TK.
TK is flushed from the tips of his ears to his chest. Carlos ducks his head down to take one of TK's nipples into his mouth and swirls his tongue over it before biting down. TK cries out, the pain shooting straight to his dick. Carlos leans off and blows on it, the cool air making him shudder.
"P-Please." TK begs brokenly.
Carlos looks up at him and tilts his head to the side, coy. "Please what, cariño?" The curly haired man switches sides, giving TK's other nipple the same treatment, but not before playfully nipping at the skin between them. TK can't think.
"Touch me, Papí."
A slow smile stretches across his face before he leans down, pressing his full lips against TK's in a mind-numbing kiss. TK is dazed when they pull away, the distinct snick! of the bottle of lube snapping him back to reality.
Carlos props TK's legs up and slides down between them. He coats three fingers liberally and reaches down, teasingly circling the rim with one digit for a moment before gently working two inside him.
TK hisses, loving the slight burn of the stretch. Without warning, Carlos sucks the head of TK's dick into his mouth at the same time his fingers brush against his prostate. "Shit." TK nearly cums right then and there. He's torn between bucking up to meet his boyfriend's sinful mouth or bearing down to meet those long, skilled fingers.
He settles for burying his hands in Carlos' dark locks, fearing the older man might stop if he does either. Carlos licks a hot stripe on the side of his dick, tracing a vein, and sucks him all the way down 'til his nose meets his groin, fingers never faltering in their movements. "Ah!" TK shouts, slapping his free hand against the duvet. "Carlos — Papí. Please, I can't—" he cuts himself off with a long drawn out moan.
Carlos hollows his cheeks, bobbing up and down to take all of him. TK is shaking, hips twitching uncontrollably.
"Look at me," Carlos pulls off him. "I wanna see those pretty green eyes, baby." TK flutters his eyes open at the slightly stern tone. He didn't even realize when they closed. Carlos presses a feather-light kiss at his knee, sliding the hand further up to squeeze at his thigh. "There you are. Don't look away."
He nods, not confident in his ability to speak right now. Carlos' fingers still inside him and, honestly, TK can't be judged for the near pathetic whine that escapes his throat. TK tries to roll his hips down to meet his fingers but his attempts are immediately put to a halt when his boyfriend's large hand presses down on his hip.
Carlos tsks, shaking his head at him. TK's heart drops at the mere thought of disappointing him. "I thought you were my good boy, Ty." His tone takes on his signature poor baby voice that never fails to make TK's cheeks flush pink. And now is no exception.
With one hand still pressing against TK's hip, Carlos slides the other one up. TK's breath hitches when they settle at the base of his neck. He whimpers when there's a slight squeeze, the sensation going straight to his dick which has been steadily dripping precum on his abs since they started.
"Good boys use their words." There's another squeeze, this one slightly tighter. Not painful, but enough to gain TK's attention, a drawn-out moan leaving his throat. "Words, cariño."
"Y-yeah," the words come out breathlessly. Another squeeze. “I-I’m your good boy, Papí.”
"That's it, baby boy. You're doing so good for me," Carlos' deep voice rasps. "So good, mí amor."
TK goes boneless under his ministrations as long, thick expert fingers resume their consistent press into his prostate. Carlos smiles softly at his boy, a look in his eye that's almost reverent.
Carlos slips his two fingers all the way out then pushes back in with a third, immediately nailing his prostate. "Oh fuck." TK's back arches off the bed, hand instinctively shooting down to grasp at his boyfriend's wrist. It doesn't stop the older man's movements. Carlos actually picks up his pace a little, pressing against that fleshy bulb with each jab. "Papí please," TK begs. There's a familiar pressure behind his eyes; he tries to swallow down the tears. "M'gonna — I don't want to — I need you inside me." His words are nearly incoherent, but he hopes Carlos understands what he's trying to say.
"My sweet boy," Carlos says lowly, that damn poor baby voice making a reappearance, his words punctuated with another press against TK's prostate. "We're just getting started."
The tears welling up in TK's eyes flow free. "Feels so—" he hiccups, "so good, Papì. Y'make me feel so good," his words are starting to run together, delirious at the onslaught of pleasure. Just then, Carlos crooks his fingers just right, his other hand swiping at his weeping slit with the slightest pressure.
"Cum for me, Tyler."
And TK absolutely sobs.
He cums, streaks of white painting all over his stomach and chest. His body shakes while Carlos fucks him through it. "Such a good boy." TK's loud moans bounce against the walls. The older man carefully removes his fingers before he becomes too oversensitive and TK tries not to be too put upon at the empty feeling.
His body is still buzzing, that familiar lightness threatening to overtake him. "What's your color, baby?" Carlos rubs his open palms over TK's inner thigh, leading upward. With two fingers, Carlos gathers some of the cum from the grooves of his abs and licks it clean. TK moans weakly, his still half-hard dick gives a valiant twitch at the display. "Hm?"
"Green," he pants out. "So fucking green."
Carlos smiles down at him, that fucking dimple on his left cheek doing things to his heart that shouldn't be allowed with what they've just been doing. The older man leans back, getting off the bed. TK whines, confused, and extends a hand to pull him back, limbs still loose from his recent orgasm. Any form of protest is immediately halted when Carlos tucks his thumbs into the band of his briefs and tugs them down, his thick, heavy dick finally springing free from its confines.
It's Pavlovian the way TK's mouth automatically drops open at the sight, craving that heavy weight on his tongue, that ache in his jaw that carries into the next day. But right now, TK would much rather have it inside him, connecting them together in the most intimate way.
Carlos climbs back up on the bed, bracketing himself between TK's legs. He hikes his legs around his waist before pouring a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, coating the substance over his shaft.
The older man rubs the tip of his dick against his hole before finally (finally) pressing in, both men moaning in unison. No matter how many times they do this, TK doesn't think he'll ever fully get used to his boyfriend's size.
Carlos bottoms out with a groan, fingers pressing against his hip in a bruising grip. TK, fleetingly, finds himself hoping they do leave a mark. "You always feel so fucking good, baby." Carlos curses under his breath. "Always take me so well," he praises.
He nearly slides all the way out before pushing back in, fucking him slow. TK's hands abandon the sheets they were clutching to instead find purchase in his dark locks, tugging. TK moans, "right there, Papí. Please," he hisses as Carlos picks up the pace.
He feels a calloused hand rove up his chest before settling heavily around his throat with a light squeeze. TK's brain goes hazy, eyes fluttering close.
Another squeeze. "Eyes on me, Tyler." Carlos' voice is like steel. "Or I'll stop." He snaps his hips forward, hitting TK's prostate dead on.
TK's breath hitches in his throat, a steady stream of tears flowing down his cheeks as he locks eyes with the older man. "M'sorry, Papí" he manages to get out between sobs. "Didn't—Didn't mean to."
"I know, baby boy," Carlos soothes. He swipes away a tear, though it's futile with ten more in its wake. "You look so fuckin' pretty." Carlos slams deep, all the way to the hilt, before slowing to a torturous grind, constantly stimulating his prostate. "You're gonna cum untouched, just like this."
A high keen builds in the back of TK's throat. He shakes his head, the sensations somehow too much and not enough all at once.
"You can do it, I know you can," Carlos softly encourages, a direct contrast to the punishing pace he starts back up. The bruising rhythm pushes TK further up towards the headboard, his blunt nails biting into Carlos' back. "Because you're my good boy."
"M'your good boy," TK repeats in a daze, glossy eyes fighting hard to stay open. "Wanna be good for you. F-Feels so good, Papí." He feels the familiar curl in his belly and tries to stave it off, not wanting to cum without permission. "Papí, m'gonna — can I cum?" TK's back arches up when the blunt head of Carlos' dick drags along his prostate. "Please please please," he begs like a prayer. "Cum inside me. Please I need it, I need it, I—"
"Let go for me, sweetheart."
TK's second orgasm rips through him with a shout, his nerve endings on fire as his legs shake from around Carlos' waist. His vision whites out for a moment and he's overcome with a sudden warmth inside him accompanied by a grunt beside his ear, sated.
A pleasant buzz fills his body, a small whine leaving him when Carlos carefully pulls out. The older man shushes him softly with an 'I'll be right back, I promise baby.' He hears feet padding away, humming to himself. God, he'll never get tired of this.
TK jolts at the feeling of a warm compress against his chest and abdomen before relaxing into it. He hisses when it's swiped against his sensitive dick before trailing down to clean over his hole.
He thinks he blacks out soon after because when he comes to, he's now slightly sitting up and pressed against a hard chest. Carlos' touch is the first thing that registers, his voice filtering in soon after.
"Come back to me, my love," he distantly hears Carlos murmur, hands brushing over his side in a soothing up and down motion.
TK shifts, turning his head up to look at him with a slow blink, a lazy smile stretching across his face. Carlos mirrors him, leading down to kiss the tip of his nose. "There's my pretty boy." He holds the bottle of mineral water under his lips. "Here, drink up."
The cold liquid is a welcome sensation for his parched throat. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until he starts drinking. It's Carlos' gentle and hushed 'slow down baby' that gets him to ease up.
"How are you feeling?" Carlos checks in after dropping the bottle. TK hears him open the Tupperware bowl. "Still floaty?"
TK nods. "A little," he says before putting his head back down against his boyfriend's chest, closing his eyes. "Was I good?" TK mumbles with his eyes still closed, the fog taking its time to clear. TK cuddles further into his boyfriend's warmth, sighing happily. He opens his mouth when Carlos nudges a small cube of watermelon to his lips.
He feels Carlos' chest vibrate against his cheek when he huffs a laugh. "Were you good?" TK hums. "Baby, you were perfect." A kiss is pressed into his hair. "You're always perfect."