Chapter Text
1 Year - TK
“Hi. Have you taken your break yet?”
Carlos looks up from where he’s restocking aquarium rocks of all things, immediately smiling when he sees TK. He rises to his feet, looking like he wants to kiss TK, but he manages some self-restraint even though TK thinks no one would care if Carlos did.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks happily.
TK clasps his hands behind his back, swaying as he shrugs. “Visiting my boyfriend on his last day of work. Figured it’s the last time I’d be here too.”
Carlos gives him a look. “That’s not true. You have many pets you need to keep alive. You’ll need to come back eventually.”
TK huffs, rolling his eyes as a smile sneaks onto his face anyway. “Okay, but it won’t be as fun when you’re not here. And we have pets we need to keep alive.”
Carlos’ face grows soft, like it often does whenever the two of them talk about the new apartment they’re moving into together on Sunday, after Carlos’ graduation on Saturday, but then he puts on his fake mask of dread. “Lou is still all yours for a few more days,” he mutters and TK would love to call him out on his fib—he’s caught Carlos cuddling with Lou more times than he would’ve ever expected—but they don’t have forever and TK would rather not waste precious minutes debating a lizard. Even he has his limits.
“So… break?” he repeats.
Carlos nods, leading the way. TK has been here enough times to know his way around, so as he follows Carlos to the breakroom, TK grabs his arm as they pass the back room, dragging him inside.
“What’re you doing?” Carlos blurts out as TK shuts the door behind them.
He locks it and turns around with a grin, stalking over to Carlos. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of the khakis he’ll have to say goodbye to soon and walks backwards, dragging Carlos with him.
“Checking the back room for more rocks,” TK says nonchalantly as the backs of his thighs hit a box. “You didn’t have the kind I was looking for on the shelf.”
“Oh, I didn’t?” Carlos mumbles as TK loops his arms around his neck.
“Nope. Might take awhile to find them back here. I’m pretty picky,” TK whispers before kissing Carlos.
Carlos lets himself be kissed for a moment before he takes the lead and TK melts against his body. He moans against Carlos’ mouth and lifts one of his legs, running it along Carlos’ thigh, but Carlos doesn’t take the hint to lift him into the box.
“There are cameras in here,” Carlos warns before TK can take it too far.
TK looks up at him through his lashes. “Babe, if you wanna film us, just say the word.”
“TK, Sharon watches this footage,” Carlos adds, ignoring his comments, and TK shrugs.
“What’s she gonna do? Fire you?”
“I was a little more worried about her watching me go down on you against a box of rocks.”
TK thinks it over and then shrugs. “She’d probably be supportive.”
“She—” Carlos stutters and then closes his eyes, laughing a little. “Okay, yeah. You’re probably right.”
TK leans in to kiss him again, but Carlos stops him with a hand to his chest. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to do it,” he balks.
“Spoilsport,” TK grumbles and Carlos grows increasingly bewildered.
“Not… the whole Sharon watching us thing. The you going down on me part,” TK clarifies and Carlos shakes his head in exasperation.
TK sets his intentions aside for now, exhaling as he looks around the back room at all the products he has become way too familiar with for someone who doesn’t work here. When he fixes his gaze back on Carlos, he toys with the collar of his green polo. TK went from being blindsided by the sight of Carlos in it to seeing it mixed in with his laundry when Carlos stays over.
“Are you going to miss this place?” he murmurs and Carlos furrows his brow.
“The people who try to return things they bought at PetSmart or the ones who never put things back on the shelf or the people who claim they have coupons even though we don’t give out coupons? No,” he huffs, and then seemingly catches sight of TK’s pout. He steps closer, resting his hands on TK’s hips. “I am going to miss the place where I met you, though.”
TK smiles. “Good thing I made a lot of dumb choices that day or I never would’ve ended up talking to you so much.”
“I’d like to think we would’ve found each other eventually,” Carlos says softly and TK feels a rush of warmth.
Despite Carlos’ earlier protests, TK can’t not kiss him after he says something like that. He thinks Carlos gets it too, because he doesn’t object to TK’s lips softly pressing against his.
“I think I see him,” Andrea says excitedly, practically rising out of her chair as she points to a little blob sitting in the dozens and dozens of chairs on the football field.
TK squints against the sun beating down on Texas Memorial Stadium, looking amongst the rows of graduates for Carlos.
“Where?” he asks and Andrea pulls him closer to her seat, lining up his sight with where she’s pointing.
“Third seat in. The one reading the pamphlet.”
Though it’s nearly impossible to tell from this far away, TK thinks he can make out Carlos’ features that are visible underneath the cap that’s doing a good job of shielding half his face. TK was with him as he got ready this morning, but now Carlos is dressed in the same deep russet gown as everyone else receiving their doctorate today and he’s a little hard to pick out of a crowd.
TK finds him though, agreeing with Andrea that it’s him as Gabriel lovingly pulls her back down into her seat with a reminder that the parents behind them would also like to see their kid graduate.
Though TK’s only been here for one year of Carlos’ journey to becoming a vet, he knows how hard Carlos worked at it and he’s immensely proud of his boyfriend. He was there for the late night studying when TK would quietly keep him company or the nights where they wouldn’t see each other at all because Carlos had study groups on campus or had to put in hours at the campus vet clinic. He watched Carlos become riddled with stress these past few weeks—neglecting his own needs until TK forced him to eat a full meal and get some fresh air—but he made it through and now he has a job lined up at City Limits Vet Clinic starting next week.
Today, they get to celebrate all of his accomplishments, and TK couldn’t be happier to be by his side. The row is filled with Carlos’ parents, his sisters, Owen, and even Sharon. Carlos told TK that she approached him a few weeks ago, showing a rare timidness as she asked if it was okay to purchase a ticket for the graduation ceremony. She didn’t want to intrude on his day with his family. Carlos almost choked up when recounting the story and his gratefulness for Sharon and her flexibility with his schedule and supporting his studies made his answer a resounding yes.
“It was very nice of you to come and support Carlos like this,” Andrea tells Sharon, who’s sitting on the other side of Owen, who’s next to TK.
“Oh,” she waves off Andrea’s gratitude. “Carlos was one of my best employees. Always a hard worker.”
“He is,” Gabriel agrees and TK smiles at all the love and praise for Carlos in this row.
“You know,” Sharon adds carefully, regarding all their expressions as if she’s determining if this is okay to add, “when Carlos first started working for me, he didn’t share too much about himself. He would always study during breaks and make pleasant small talk with the customers. He’s a good kid, perfectly kind. But then I saw TK keep coming back to the store with sad excuses for a visit and I saw a new side of Carlos. I’ve been rooting for the two of them ever since.”
Everyone looks touched, but before anyone else can say anything, Sharon quickly adds. “I don’t want to overstep. He’s your son, but I’ve never had kids of my own and watching him become a fine young man is very special to me.”
Andrea smiles tearfully at her, reaching all the way across Owen and TK to squeeze her hand. “And knowing Carlitos has so many people looking out for him is special to me.”
The people in that category extend beyond just this row. Last night, TK and their friends threw a party for Carlos in celebration and tomorrow, they’ll help them move into their new apartment.
He and TK have made a life together in the past year, and TK can’t wait to see how it expands.
As the ceremony gets underway, TK listens to the various speeches from distinguished alumni, students, and the chancellor of the university. It’s a long two hours, but it’s all worth it when Carlos’ name is called. TK jumps to his feet and their whole section is clapping and cheering loudly. TK watches as Carlos glances in their direction and then crosses the stage, shaking hands and accepting his diploma.
It isn’t much later that they’re tracking him down in the courtyard outside the stadium. TK hangs back and lets Carlos’ parents hug him first. Andrea looks a little tearful and Gabriel hugs him tighter than TK has ever seen. When they’re done, Carlos’ eyes find TK and TK can’t hold back anymore.
He rushes into Carlos’ arms, looping his arms around his neck as they sway. “I’m so proud of you,” TK murmurs and Carlos kisses his neck.
“Thank you, baby,” Carlos whispers, squeezing TK tightly around the waist. “I love you.”
TK holds back on really kissing him, settling for one on his cheek as he responds, “I love you so much.”
TK knows there’s a whole group of people that want to wish Carlos congratulations too, but he steals one more moment for himself.
“Dr. Reyes,” TK says slowly, trying out the title on his tongue. “Does that make me your trophy husband?”
Carlos’ eyes widen and he looks to his parents, as if searching for confirmation of something, and then TK realizes how that probably sounds.
“I’m not proposing,” TK quickly adds.
Yet, he thinks. Maybe one day. If he’s lucky.
Carlos smiles, but TK thinks he sees a little red on his cheeks and wonders if he’s not the only one thinking that he wants their future to go in that direction.
“You have a job,” Carlos reminds him. “I think that disqualifies you from trophy husband status.”
TK grins widely. “Well,” he says slowly, “some people think I’m unemployed. You wouldn’t believe it; one time this one guy handed me an application—”
Carlos presses his lips to TK’s, kissing him quiet and TK enjoys it too much to be mad about being cut off. “Okay, shut up,” Carlos mumbles with a laugh before the rest of the group pushes their way forward to him.
TK doesn’t stray far. Not during the well wishes or the dinner that follows. He spends all night glued to Carlos’ side, kissing him and laughing with him and celebrating his wins as if they were his own. And in the morning, he helps Carlos pack up the last of the things in his apartment before they make the drive to Owen’s to get the rest of TK’s.
It takes a village for all of their furniture and belongings to end up in the new place and it ends up looking like a bit of a zoo with the fish and Cat and Lou and the still unnamed hermit crab—it’s become a running gag at this point—but it’s perfect. And TK wouldn’t change a thing.
3 Years - Carlos
“Last name?” the receptionist asks, looking up from the keyboard she’s typing on with very long nails. Her badge declares that her name is ‘Marjory’ and Carlos wonders why Marjory needs to know his surname if he doesn’t know hers.
“Uh, Reyes,” he answers, still wondering why it’s necessary to give out so much personal information to collect a dog. TK insists that Carlos is too paranoid about stuff like this, but TK also uses a swipe of his finger across the keyboard as his password for everything, so he’s not in any position to judge.
His walking, talking, would-be hacking victim of a boyfriend is stuck on a call with his dad, which is the entire reason Carlos is at a downtown doggy daycare center. The current love of Owen Strand’s life—a Bernese named Buttercup—is left to play with his canine friends multiple times a week which is great, except that Owen works a lot of shifts that go into overtime and Puppy Pals closes at seven p.m. sharp. If Buttercup is left here too late, he gets taken home by a staffer and—much like if a car gets impounded—a four hundred dollar premium is charged for a sleepover.
Carlos can’t really see the purpose of doggy daycare. Sure, Buttercup likes it but he’s also perfectly happy sitting at home. Carlos knows this for a fact because Owen has one of those security cameras which is used almost exclusively to watch Buttercup sleep, and the feed features regularly in the very active group chats he’s become a part of. One of them includes everyone who works at the 126 firehouse, while the other, constituted only by Owen, TK and Carlos, is named ‘Hit and Run’ since Owen won’t let Carlos forget that he apparently mowed his son down on the first day they met. Carlos wonders when that joke is going to get old. Apparently, three years isn’t long enough.
Marjory types something rapidly on the keyboard, frowns and then looks up at him through long, thick lashes. “I’m sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry at all. “There’s no Carlos Reyes listed on our system.”
Carlos blinks. “Oh no,” he says quickly. “The dog is called Buttercup.”
“I know,” Marjory replies, pushing a strand of dark red hair behind her ear. “But you’re not listed as his owner.”
Carlos takes a deep breath and—very quickly—counts to three in his head. “I’m not. But Owen Strand is, and he asked me to pick up Buttercup because he’s stuck on a shift.”
Marjory gives him a grimace, which Carlos thinks is supposed to look sympathetic. He resists the urge to tell her that she needs to work on her sincerity. “Unfortunately, we can’t release a dog to anyone who is not a relative of the owner, or on an approved list.”
“Right,” Carlos replies. “But I am a relative…kind of. I’ve picked up Buttercup before with my boyfriend, TK.”
“TK Strand?” Marjory repeats, reading off the computer screen. “Yeah, he’s here.”
“And I’m his boyfriend,” Carlos insists. “We live at the same residential address, I can show you my ID—”
“Do you have a copy of your marriage certificate?” Marjory asks him, and Carlos just about bursts out laughing before he realizes that she’s serious.
“Do I— No,” he replies. “We’ve been together for three years. Owen Strand is my father-in-law, more or less. Can I please take his dog?”
“I’m sorry,” Marjory sighs, shaking her head as if Carlos is asking a very silly question. “Unless you can prove your relationship with either TK or Owen, I can’t release the dog to you.”
“Can I call them?”
She gives him a shrewd look. “I’m not just going to believe anyone you put on the phone.”
Carlos’ mouth almost drops open in surprise. “I’m not trying to steal the dog. I just want to help my father-in-law out.”
“He’s not your father-in-law unless I can see a marriage certificate,” Marjory says with a saccharine smile. “Now, can you please step aside so I can serve the next customer? You’ll have to get Owen or TK to come down and pick up Buttercup themselves.”
“They’re literally saving lives right now,” Carlos protests. “Besides, I’m a vet. I can show you my license, I’m not here to steal—”
“Sir, please step aside,” Marjory insists, and Carlos recognizes that he’s lost the battle. In an uncharacteristic display of immaturity, he stomps out of the premises into the parking lot and immediately calls TK. It goes to voicemail. Defeated, Carlos leans on the hood of the Camaro—several towels lovingly spread out on the backseat—and groans.
One of Carlos’ favorite things in the world is hearing TK walk through the door of their loft. It’s a truism that home is not a place, it’s a person, because every time Carlos hears the slide of the door and the ‘Hey baby!’ ring out across the polished concrete floors, he knows he’s right where he’s supposed to be.
Even if Buttercup isn’t.
“Hey TK,” he calls, slumped on the couch, brooding from his unsuccessful battle with Majory from Puppy Pals as he watches Lou bask under his lamp. “Did your dad manage to pick up—”
“Oh yeah,” TK replies, and Carlos breathes a sigh of relief as he hears TK kicking off his shoes and throwing his backpack under the kitchen counter. He’ll pretend to unpack it and put it away later, and Carlos will pretend he doesn’t notice it still there in the morning. They’re well versed in each other’s quirks and habits now, and even if compromise is sometimes necessary, Carlos thinks they’re a pretty good team.
“How?” he asks. “There’s no way he made it there by seven.”
“Oh, the girl there really likes him,” TK says breezily, his voice raised over the sound of running water in the sink as he washes his hands. “He just texted her and asked her to—”
“Her name wouldn’t be Marjory, would it?” Carlos asks, eyes narrowed as he turns around on the couch.
“I think so, why?” TK replies innocently, drying his hands on the hand towel. “Or Melissa, or Melanie, or something.”
“That’s funny,” Carlos grits out.
TK frowns, skirting the counter and making his way towards the couch. “You don’t look particularly happy. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Carlos continues, even though he would very much like to ask Owen for Marjory’s number so he can give her a piece of his mind, “it’s just that Marjory was the one who wouldn’t release Buttercup to me.”
“Baby,” TK says softly, dropping down onto the couch and running a hand over Carlos’ sweatpant-clad knee. “You know how that place is. It treats dogs like they’re preschoolers. They’re a bit over the top with the rules, but it’s no big deal—”
“It is a big deal!” Carlos protests hotly. “She acted like I was gonna steal a dog because I couldn’t prove to her that we were immediate family and yet she had your dad’s direct line the whole time!”
TK wrinkles his nose in confusion. “She said you had to be an immediate family member?”
“Yes,” Carlos insists.
TK hums and looks off into the distance, before looking back at Carlos again. “That’s weird. Marjan has picked up Buttercup before.”
Carlos scoffs. “And did Marjan get asked for a marriage certificate?”
“What?”
“Nevermind,” Carlos says petulantly. His anger is dissipating into lingering annoyance and he really just wants to complain about being treated like a criminal when really, he’s the safest pair of hands any of those dogs could be released to.
“No, what do you mean?” TK presses. “Marjory asked if we were married?”
“She implied that if I didn’t have your last name, I had to prove that we were legally related.”
“Huh,” TK says softly.
“Carlos Strand,” Carlos says, swallowing it down uncomfortably. “I don’t love it.”
“No, me neither,” TK admits, although his eyes have glazed over slightly, like he’s only half listening. “You sound like an accountant.”
“Hmm,” Carlos agrees, his attention caught by the sight of Cat padding out of their bedroom. She pushes her weight back and stretches out her front paws, before see-sawing forward and stretching her back ones. “Someone’s come to see you,” he tells TK.
“What?” TK asks, apparently very distracted.
“Cat,” Carlos murmurs, watching their adopted daughter trot across the rug and jump nimbly onto the couch. She walks across TK’s legs, nuzzling his hand before flopping into Carlos’ lap.
“What?” he asks, reaching under Cat’s chin to give her a scratch. “You’re not going to say hello?”
“Who, me?” TK asks, as if Carlos is addressing Cat directly and asking her to speak English.
Carlos pretends to look around the apartment. “Is there anyone else here?” he teases.
“Sorry,” TK replies, plastering a smile on his face and reaching over to pat Cat on her head. “I was just thinking about something.”
“Feel like sharing?” Carlos asks, a spike of anxiety thrumming through his veins as TK shakes his head and avoids his gaze. This does nothing to quell Carlos’ spiraling thoughts, but he doesn’t push it. Sometimes, he’s realized, it’s better to let TK come to him on his own terms.
TK scratches behind Cat’s ears. “Who’s last name does Cat have?”
“Mine,” Carlos reminds him. “I officially adopted her.”
“Cat Reyes,” TK murmurs. “It’s not right that our kids have different last names.”
Carlos resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Lou does not need a last name. He barely ever leaves his tank.”
“Lou is a Strand,” TK argues. “Don’t even think about making him a Reyes.”
“I thought you just said—”
“Do you want to go to bed?” TK asks abruptly. “I already ate with the crew and I’m beat.”
Carlos looks down at Cat, already settled in his lap and then back up at his boyfriend, who is acting very strange. “What’s wrong, TK?”
“Nothing!” TK insists, leaping off the couch and heading towards the bedroom. “I’m having a shower,” he adds. “You can join me if you want.”
Carlos knows Cat will resent him for leaving her on the couch alone, but he finds he just can’t resist the offer.
One minute, Carlos is drifting off to sleep, feeling all boneless and sated from mind-blowing shower sex. The next, he’s being woken up with TK’s voice in his ear and his hand on Carlos’ shoulder.
Immediately sensing panic, he sits bolt upright in bed, eyes darting through the darkness. “What,” he gasps, gathering the sheets around him, looking for any sign of wandering reptiles. “Is Lou in the bed again?”
“Hey,” TK calls softly, his voice pitched up as if he’s about to laugh. “There’s no lizard, there’s no lizard. Everything’s okay, relax.”
Carlos groans, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “I was relaxing,” he points out, his voice sounding raspy. “What’s going on?”
TK shuffles forward, sitting cross legged on the bed. It’s a strange position for someone who is supposed to have been sleeping, Carlos realizes, although TK has, at times, suffered from insomnia. He says it’s because of the shiftwork, but Carlos suspects it might also have to do with the loss of his mom the previous year.
“I’m gonna call Marjory,” he says, which is definitely unexpected. For a moment, Carlos wonders if he’s still dreaming because what TK is saying is making absolutely no sense.
He squints through the darkness, shaking his head. “You’re going to call Marjory?” he asks, perplexed. TK nods, a dopey smile on his face as he hums his assent. “You’re going to call Marjory now?” Carlos repeats. “At…three-eighteen in the morning?”
“Yeah. I don’t wanna waste another minute,” TK tells him seriously. Carlos is starting to wonder if he hit his head in the shower. This is not a normal dream.
“You think you can survive until dawn?” Carlos asks, his voice rough as TK reaches over and pushes his hair back from his forehead. “I mean you've put off adding me to that list for this long—”
“It will be easy,” TK adds, stroking Carlos’ hair. “You’ll be automatically added to the list if you’re my husband.”
The word stops Carlos’ brain in its tracks. It feels as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. “What?”
TK gives him a long look, then reaches for his hand. Somehow, despite the sleep deprivation and the low light and the fact that his eyes still haven’t adjusted to his surroundings, Carlos knows what his boyfriend is about to say.
It doesn’t stop his heart feeling as if it stops in his chest, though.
“Marry me,” TK says.
Carlos pauses, his mind reeling. TK has been acting strange for the entire night—from the moment Carlos had his meltdown about Marjory and not being allowed to collect Buttercup—but it’s not something that requires a proposal. He hopes he hasn’t somehow made TK feel as if he has to make up for the fact that they’re not married. Immediately, Carlos spirals about his overreaction and wonders how on earth he’s going to fix this. The last thing he wants is for TK to marry him out of some sense of obligation brought on by a misunderstanding about his father’s dog.
“TK,” he says softly, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “I know I was upset about Buttercup—”
“Baby, this isn’t about Buttercup,” TK tries to interject, but Carlos needs him to understand that he really doesn’t have to do this. Carlos is very happy to wait until TK is ready. He’s already committed himself to TK for life, anyway.
“—you really don’t have to do this because I can’t work out how to convince Marjory that we’re actually in a relationship—”
“Carlos, it’s not about Buttercup,” TK insists, louder this time. Carlos promptly shuts up, and allows TK to collect both of his hands in his own. “It’s about love. The kind you can’t get away from.”
The words wash over him as he sits on his bed, caught up in the sight of TK’s watery eyes, and there’s something so significant about the moment that lingers in the stillness. Oh, he realizes. Oh.
This is not at all what he imagined, but—much like confessions of love over a lizard skin—it’s perfect, so he lets TK continue uninterrupted.
Every word TK says feels like it should be immortalized, like it’s changing the entire course of Carlos’ life, forging a new path. He wants to hang on every sentence, ask TK to repeat it, write it down, record it so he can play it back, but there’s a beauty in being lost in a moment that can’t be repeated, and Carlos doesn’t think he’d change a single thing about it.
It’s only when TK looks at him expectantly then opens his mouth to continue, the nerves clearly kicking in, that Carlos finds himself able to speak.
“Tyler,” he whispers, cupping TK’s face in his hands. TK smiles, tears spilling over his lash line. “Can I say yes now? Can I say yes now?”
TK sniffs, nodding with a watery giggle. “I sure hope so.”
“Then yes,” Carlos whispers, bringing their foreheads together gently. “A thousand times yes.”
TK ducks his head to press a needy kiss to Carlos’ lips, salty tears mingled with Carlos’ own. It’s sweet and grounding, Carlos’ racing heart soothed by the closeness and the surety that comes with being in TK’s arms. He can’t quite believe this is real—that TK turned a doggy daycare disaster into the most perfect proposal—but he’s not going to question it.
“You’re not just saying yes so you can get me back onto the employee discount at Animals Amok?” TK asks, his voice cracking as he pulls back slightly. “I know Sharon still lets you use that.”
“I mean maybe,” Carlos teases, pulling TK down onto the bed, rolling him onto his back as he swings his legs over his hips. “Don’t think I didn’t see that receipt shoved into your pocket the other day. Two hundred dollars on reptile accessories, TK?”
TK hums happily, accepting another messy kiss as he cups the back of Carlos’ head. “I think we should stop talking about our pets,” he murmurs, and within minutes, Carlos’ mind is blissfully blank.
“Thank god,” Carlos mutters under his breath, leaving his parents at the island counter and rushing over to hold the door open for Grace, Judd and their daughter, Charlie. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” he says, by way of greeting.
“They’re just limes, sweetheart,” Grace says, raising an eyebrow as Judd claps Carlos on the shoulder gruffly and wanders off towards Owen Strand. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little— You know,” Carlos stammers, gesturing wildly to the thirty-odd guests in his loft apartment. His eyes immediately find TK in the middle of it all, handing Marjan a mineral water and laughing at something Sharon is saying. He looks so relaxed, at peace in the middle of everyone, and Carlos wishes he could embody that same energy.
“Hosting is stressful,” Grace adds, as if reading his mind. “Go on, go use those limes for whatever you needed them so desperately for and we’ll find you later.”
“Can I repay you in margaritas?” Carlos offers weakly, holding up the limes Grace has just handed over.
“No, thank you,” Grace smiles. “But I wouldn’t say no to more babysitting.”
Carlos rolls his eyes and heads back to the counter, grinning as he hears five-year-old Charlie protest that she’s not a baby, and actually, she doesn’t need a babysitter.
One hour and two margaritas later, Carlos finds Grace and Charlie sitting on his couch, accompanied by the leading lady of the loft. Cat has taken to Grace by the looks of things, perched with her back half on the couch and her front paws on Grace’s thigh, which Carlos takes to be another sign that Cat is a good judge of character. Charlie—under her mother’s watchful gaze—reaches out a hand and gently pats the cat on the top of her head.
“Thanks again for bringing the limes,” Carlos says softly, not wanting to interrupt the moment. “And sorry for being so—”
“It’s your engagement party, Carlos,” Grace says kindly, watching as Carlos takes a seat next to Charlie. “You should be spending time with your fiancé, not apologizing to me.”
Carlos looks around for TK, now in a discussion with Carlos’ parents. It looks a little serious, and Carlos’ immediate urge is to run over there and disrupt them, but then TK smiles brightly at his mother and his mother smiles back, and something in Carlos’ chest untwists. Somehow, he knows it’s going to be okay, so he takes a deep breath and turns back to Grace.
“I’ve got the rest of my life to hang out with TK,” he replies, earning him matching reproachful looks from mother and daughter. It’s evident how much Charlie takes after Grace, he thinks. She’s extremely precocious and observant, unlike her father who apparently took over six months to work out that Owen Strand—his coworker and friend—has been wearing an Australian akubra and calling it a cowboy hat. Carlos left them to that debate thirty minutes ago and it appears they’re still in the throes of it, Judd waving his hands around wildly as Owen tries to point out the benefits of the wider brim when it comes to UV protection.
“Mommy,” she asks, drawing Carlos’ attention as Grace nods towards her daughter. “Can I go get the certificates for Mr. Carlos?”
“Just Carlos, sweetheart,” Grace replies, her brown eyes flicking up to meet Carlos’ as she schools her expression. “And yes.”
“Is she going to give me a good grade in being a fiancé?” Carlos whispers, as soon as Charlie has scampered away. Cat watches cautiously, her tail flicking back and forth across the couch cushion.
“She made them at school,” Grace murmurs, watching her daughter pick a bunch of papers out of her bag at the front door. “So you better pretend to be excited.”
“Of course,” Carlos replies softly, giving Charlie a broad smile as she plops herself back on the couch. “What have you got there?”
“It’s for you and Mr. TK,” Charlie tells him primly. “Because when you get married, you have to sign the papers, and you have to sign extra papers because you have Lou and Cat.”
“Do I?” Carlos asks, intrigued as she shuffles the papers in her hands.
“Yes,” she tells him, as if the answer is obvious. “Mrs. Collinson said so.”
“And who is Mrs. Collinson?”
“My art teacher.”
“I see.”
“Otherwise,” Charlie continues, handing him a brightly coloured certificate, “how will Lou and Cat know who their dads are?”
“That’s very true,” Carlos nods sagely, looking down at the certificate in his hand. It has a picture of a lizard which is, to be honest, very advanced for a five year old. Around the white paper is a red border, a title which reads ‘Certificate of Adoption’ which was definitely written by an adult, and some more black writing which reads “Lou”.
“The only thing is,” Charlie adds, scrambling across the couch to point at the paper in Carlos’ hands. “I didn’t know what last name to put.”
“Oh,” Carlos replies awkwardly. The truth is, he and TK booked their wedding venue three weeks ago and they still haven’t had the last name discussion. Mostly because Carlos has been avoiding it.
“Are we talking surnames?” Owen asks, somehow overhearing them from across the room. The man either has supersonic hearing or he’s desperately trying to escape the akubra argument. Carlos suspects it might be the latter. “I think it has to be Strand-Reyes.”
“I think Reyes-Strand rolls off the tongue nicer,” Carlos hears his dad say, apparently just as attentive when it comes to a surname discussion. “Wouldn’t you agree, Carlitos?”
Carlos, who is simultaneously allergic to arguing with his father and terrified of disappointing his future father-in-law, snaps his mouth shut. His fiancé, on the other hand, has no such qualms. “Maybe I just wanna be a Reyes,” he points out, just to throw a grenade into the discussion.
“I would be okay with that,” Gabriel says, as if he has any say in the matter.
“Uh, TK,” Owen interjects, looking appalled. “You’re just going to abandon the Strand clan? Like it means nothing?”
TK waves his left hand. “Come on, Dad,” he says lightly. “I’m half Morgan, anyway.”
“Traitor,” Owen mutters.
“Fine,” TK relents, resting his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Maybe we should just keep our own names until we decide.”
“But what’s going to happen to Lou and Cat?!” Charlie protests loudly. “They’ll be confused.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” TK says seriously, abandoning his father to perch himself next to Carlos on the arm of the couch. “Maybe we should just leave it blank until the wedding day,” he suggests. “We’ll bring the certificates with us and you can write it in.”
“I can?” Charlie asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Am I going to be invited?”
“The very first person,” Carlos promises. “You’ve got a very important job to do.”
“You boys really don’t have to do that—” Grace tries to interject, before her daughter cuts over the top of her.
“Can I be a flower girl?”
“Oh my— Honey,” Grace says patiently. “It’s a very big decision for these boys to make. We shouldn’t ask them those kinds of questions.”
TK shrugs. “Sure,” he says, as if Carlos doesn’t have strong views on wedding formalities. Carlos suppresses a sigh. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to have a cute flower girl, he supposes.
“Cool!” Charlie grins, bouncing on the couch slightly. Cat leaps off with a disapproving meow.
“You really don’t have to do that,” Grace tells them under her breath as Charlie runs off to her bag again with a little trip on the edge of the rug. “One of the girls at school was a flower girl in her cousin’s wedding recently, I’m sure the fascination will wear off.”
“It’s no big deal,” TK says kindly. “Right, babe?”
“Right,” Carlos nods, squeezing TK’s hand in a way which he hopes conveys that he wishes to discuss wedding planning later. He doesn’t mind Charlie being their flower girl so much, but he is wondering what else TK has agreed to in his absence.
When he looks up at TK perched on the arm of the couch, TK grins broadly and kisses him on the tip of his nose before Charlie barrels back into the vicinity.
“I have a picture for you too!” she declares. “Mrs. Collinson helped me do the writing.”
She hands Carlos a piece of paper, this time with what appears to be a family portrait. TK is a stick figure, easily recognisable by his neon green eyes and spiky brown hair. A little more effort has gone into Carlos’ form, which is primarily because he’s wearing a lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck. He looks a little like a doctor, but someone has written the words ‘vet’ next to him with an arrow, which he supposes is for clarification purposes.
At their feet are an orange cat and a little lizard. The lizard has a party hat on for some reason, which Carlos hopes is a cute addition and not another costume TK has bought with their shared savings. TK is back on the employee discount and they recently caved and signed up for the Animals Amok credit card, but even then, Carlos would prefer he exercises a little more restraint at his favorite store.
Charlie has even drawn a tank behind them with No-Name the hermit crab and some fish. She’s put at least six in there, which is a little more than they currently own, and at least three of them are purple. Carlos hasn’t looked at the tank in a few hours, but last he checked, they still have three zebra danios and a goldfish. Still, it’s a commendable effort.
“Hey,” he says, noticing a large, black cat drawn on the other side of vet-Carlos’ leg. “Who’s this?”
“Pumpkin,” Charlie tells him, blinking innocently. “The cat my dad rescued from a factory fire.”
Carlos’ brain processes this information and links an abandoned cat to TK to adoption faster than the speed of light. He knows exactly how Pumpkin ended up in this family portrait, and he hates to admit how readily accepting he is of the fact that the loft is soon going to accommodate another furry family member. He doesn’t even need to look at TK’s face for confirmation. At least Pumpkin doesn’t have scales.
“And is Pumpkin looking for a home?” he asks, looking up from the drawing to find TK’s beseeching expression.
“She’s adorable, Carlos,” he says softly. “And I think Cat would really like a friend—”
“I thought we were Cat’s friends.”
TK makes a noise of protest. “We are Cat’s friends, I just thought she would like other friends—”
“Would you like to rearrange that sentence?”
“You can meet Pumpkin on Monday,” TK deflects. “When you come to lunch at the station.”
“You’re only saying that because you know I won’t be able to say no.”
TK smiles brightly. “Yep.”
Carlos redirects his attention to Charlie, who is looking between them with a mixture of apprehension and confusion. “Thank you, Charlie,” he says gently. “It’s beautiful. I’ll make sure it goes on the refrigerator as soon as people stop digging around in there for drinks.”
“Okay,” she says, apparently mollified as she hops off the couch again and ducks her head under the seat. “Where did Cat go?”
“I’m not sure, honey,” Grace murmurs, giving them an amused smile as she takes Charlie’s hand and allows her daughter to lead her off in search of their missing cat. “You boys have a lot to discuss.”
“Do we?” TK asks mischievously, as soon as Grace and Charlie are out of earshot.
Carlos rests his hand on TK’s thigh and kisses his cheek as he whispers, “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
TK laughs and pushes Carlos’ hair off his forehead, the curls bouncing back disobediently. “You love me.”
Carlos shakes his head fondly and wonders how he got here—surrounded by his family and friends in a loft he owns with an amazing guy he found in a pet store. TK might be overzealous on the animal adoption, and Carlos might—three years later—still be getting used to Lou, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that he’d be marrying the very same man who professed to need aquarium rocks when he never even had fish, but Carlos can’t think of a single thing he doesn’t love about TK and his wild, animal-loving heart. In any case, there’s really only one thing left to say, so he grins, pulls TK close and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.
“I do.”