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"So," TK sighs, resting his cheek on his boyfriend's shoulder. "I've been thinking lately." Carlos just hums and rubs the back of his hand. "I don't know if you're into it but-“ he scrunches his face up, “-can you call me a whore?"
He sits upright at that, dislodging TK from his embrace. "What? Why?"
"Look, I love this." He waves his hand at both of their naked bodies, then places his hand on Carlos' thigh and caresses the muscle with his thumb. "I love everything about us. You're sweet, and hot, and you make me feel- everything you say makes me feel loved."
Carlos' brow creases, eyes big and wide and concerned and God, so beautiful. "But...?"
"But," TK repeats, "I like feeling... Dirty. And used up. Like I’m just… an object, I guess? If that’s okay with you?”
““I mean- it’s what you like, you don’t need my permission to have your kinks,” Carlos says. His entire body feels tense when TK rubs his shoulder and sighs.
“I mean, if you’re okay trying that, baby,” he clarifies. “It’s something I like, but… Only if you’re okay doing it, okay?”
There’s a long moment of hesitation before Carlos replies. “Yeah,” he replies. “Okay.” When TK leans over to kiss him, his muscles are still taught, and it takes a moment for him to relax enough to kiss back.
“Morning, babe!” Carlos calls as TK walks down the stairs.
He yawns in response, stretching his arms up above his head. “Good morning to you, too.” Taking a deep inhale, he steps into the kitchen and leans his bare chest against Carlos’ back. “Mm. Pancakes?”
“They’re crepes, TK. We’ve got Nutella, blueberries, strawberries, and bananas.”
“I thought they looked a little flat, but I didn’t want to say anything.”
In response, TK gets an overdramatic eyeroll. “Shut your mouth before I pour all the batter on you.”
“Aww, are you gonna lick it off me, too?” The spatula is shoved into his face, smearing the batter all over his nose. TK gasps and glares at him, trying to keep the obvious smile off his face.
“Nope. Go wash your face, you little shit.”
“Romance is dead,” TK declares as he scrubs the mess away with a damp paper towel.
Carlos nods and pours another crepe into the pan. “If romance is dead, why am I making you crepes on a random Tuesday?”
“Nope. Argument invalid, romance is dead, and you, Carlos Reyes, killed it.”
They’re both grinning like clowns. It’s not horribly uncommon that they get the same days off, but they’re still, undoubtedly, the best days. “Woe is you,” Carlos says.
“Woe is me,” TK agrees, and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s soft lips.
Several minutes of silence draw out, comfortable and calm. The whole stack of crepes is done, and they manage to assemble their plates and sit on the sofa before either of them even considers speaking.
“Can we try, you know- what I’d told you about, before, tonight?” TK asks, leaning on Carlos’ shoulder.
Carlos presses a chunk of strawberry against TK’s lips as he thinks. “The- uh, the… Whore, thing?” He gets an affirmative nod. “If you want to?” he responds. “I’m just... Worried.”
TK snorts and swallows the strawberry. “Worried about what, babe?”
“I don’t want to ruin it for you. I don’t want to screw up.”
“You’ll do fine,” he reassures, kissing the base of Carlos’ neck. “You’re not going to screw up.”
TK gets onto his hands and knees eagerly the second they hit the bed in the evening, whole body wired and eager. He’s barely focused on anything all day, jittering and fidgeting and palming at his cock through his boxers in anticipation. Lube has already been set out, but no condom- TK knows that Carlos knows that TK has adores the feeling of come leaking out of him, like a little reminder of how well Carlos had fucked him.
Carlos takes a minute to breathe and pump a more than generous amount of lube onto his fingers. Carefully, he presses one finger inside, and sets to work on fingering TK open- gentle, as he always is, but a bit more cautious than usual, TK notes. Or maybe TK is just more high-strung than usual.
It’s not like they’ve never had rough sex- for a while, it was all they had. But even when Carlos has him slammed into wall, fucking him so hard he can barely hold himself upright and he’s damn near screaming himself hoarse, he still manages to make TK feel as if he was worth more than the whole damn universe.
But he doesn’t want that, tonight. He wants to feel like a toy for Carlos to use, like he means nothing- just an object built to be screwed hard and demeaned and tossed aside without a care for his own pleasure. He burns with the ache for it, building higher and higher as Carlos fingers him with all the care in the world.
“Baby, please?” he pleads. Carlos is being so impossibly sweet with him, and it’s grinding on his patience. “Come on, Carlos?”
Carlos takes a deep breath and gets to his knees to position his dick right at TK's hole, hands settling on the small of his back. “You’re being- being such a little- a- a little whore,” he tells TK, voice soft and unsure. It sounds more like a question, really. TK moans all the same, and Carlos pushes in the slightest bit. “Such a needy, dumb-“ his voice cracks as TK rolls his hips back, taking him further, “-dumb slutty thing.”
TK falls face- first into the pillow, arms turning to jelly, as he finally starts to scratch that itch. “Come on, come on,” he whines, “slap me, use me up, please, your whore, all yours.”
Carlos shoves into him all the way, breath shaky. “Mhm, you’re mine to- to fuck, you’re mine, just a little sleeve for me to just- screw, right?” He grabs TK’s wrists and pins them behind his back as he fucks him- still not as brutal as TK wants him to be, but he’s begging for Carlos to use him up, so he can’t really be choosey on how, exactly, he wants Carlos to rail him.
“You like that, you- you little slut,“ Carlos grinds out, thrusting forward harder than he has all night. “You’re just a little- a fucktoy for- for me to-“
Carlos cuts himself off abruptly, falling into near silence, and his hands drop from TK's wrists. For a moment, TK thinks he's coming- Carlos has always tended to quiet down and go totally still when he comes. But he doesn't feel anything- no lax muscles, no warmth inside of him, nothing. Then warm, wet drops fall onto his back, and suddenly Carlos is shivering, hard, his breaths coming far too fast and far too shallow.
Dread and anxiety pull at his heart. "Babe?" TK asks, lifting his head from the pillow. "You okay?"
Instead of speaking, Carlos whimpers, quiet and soft and utterly gut-wrenching. He presses his forehead between TK's shoulders, soft cries growing to body-wracking sobs and too-quick breath becoming wracking, breathless coughs.
TK squirms and gasps slightly as he pulls himself off of Carlos' dick. Carlos sobs louder at that, outright wailing against TK's spine. "Hey, hey, baby, it's okay, I got you," he whispers as he slowly shifts himself onto his back. One hand sinks into Carlos' sweat-slick hair, scratching through it in the way he knows, from long, sleepless nights where they're both too worn and distraught and exhausted from the tragedies they see to sleep, is soothing to his boyfriend, the other crossing his back and pulling him close. "Carlos, babe, hey, baby, baby, please, it's okay, you're okay, baby, it'll be okay, what's wrong?"
For several long minutes, he gets no answer, aside from the sound of Carlos hyperventilating. But, after several awful moments, he manages to take a breath long enough to reply. "I- I-" he sobs again, and TK pushes Carlos' head into his collarbone. "I can't, baby, I can't, I'm- I'm sorry."
TK traces light fingers down Carlos' back, from his neck to his ass, then back up again, waiting for the new wave of wailing to cease before replying. "You can't what, Carlos?"
"I cant- I can't do that, I can't- treat you like- like I don't-" his voice is ragged and hoarse, and he has to stifle another whimper into TK's chest. "I'm sorry, I-"
Hot, shameful tears well in TK's eyes. He did this- sent his boyfriend into a goddamn panic attack over some stupid kink, without even bothering to see if Carlos was okay. He knows what it feels like to be ignored like that. “Carlos…” he breathes and kisses the top of his head. Carlos sobs again, and TK buries his nose in his hair. He can barely speak- when did he become that sort of person? The person who takes advantage of his boyfriend for the sake of an orgasm? How did he miss Carlos' distress?
He doesn’t try to say anything else. It wouldn’t help anything, not really. Instead, he lays there, letting Carlos ride out the tears, keeping him close and trying his best to soothe his own mistakes.
It feels like hours that they lay there- the sun has fully set by the time Carlos has cried himself out.
“You back with me, babe?” TK asks. He keeps petting Carlos' hair, the same as he has been the entire time.
Carlos shivers, sweat long gone cool in the air-conditioned room. He’s mostly silent, now, his only noises just hoarse, broken whimpers. “I- I am. I’m sorry-“ he starts, before a gentle finger to his lips shushes him.
“Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry for,” he reassures. “Things happen. Just- what did happen?”
Carlos pushes himself up and off TK, sitting with his legs crossed as far as he can get from him while still on the bed. “I love you,” he tells TK, plain and simple. “I can’t just… Turn that off. I can’t treat you like I don’t.”
TK feels his heart shatter and melt all at once. It hurts, to know that his kink accidentally made Carlos feel so, so guilty and awful. At the same time, he feels warm all over to know that Carlos loves him, to the point where even pretending he doesn’t care hurts him so deeply. Words fail him, every emotion colliding in his chest at once. He only manages a soft, “Oh.”
Disappointment and shame rushes onto Carlos’ face. “Oh?” he asks, sliding off the bed. “I’ll just-“
“Babe, stop, I love you, too.” It’s the first time he’s said it- both of their first times, tonight. “I-“ TK stands as well, and moves behind Carlos. “I love you, too,” he says again as he wraps his arms around Carlos’ chest and presses his face into his neck. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“You aren’t… Mad? Or disappointed?”
“Well, yeah, I’m a bit of both. I’m mad that I didn’t notice how fucking miserable you were about the whole idea, and I’m disappointed that you thought you couldn’t tell me.” Carlos sighs,
“I wanted to make you happy.”
TK steps back, grabbing a water bottle from the nightstand, sitting on the edge of the mattress, and tugging Carlos to sit beside him. “You make me happy. Look, I like being degraded in bed. But I love you.” Carlos drops his head to TK's shoulder, and his hand comes up to scratch lightly through Carlos' curls. He uncaps the water bottle and presses it to Carlos’ lips. “I don’t care that you don’t want to do that with me. We don’t have to do that. What’s something you wanna do, hm?”
Carlos sighs heavily takes the bottle, sipping slowly at it. “I don’t know. Maybe just-“ he swallows hard. “God, tell me if this is stupid and just… dumb, or not, but…”
TK kisses the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know if God can tell you if it’s dumb or not, but I can, if you tell me?”
“I sorta- wanted to fuck you while we’re both in uniform? Look, it’s cheesy, I know, I know that’s a really… really common bad porn thing, but I-“
He’s cut off with a kiss and TK’s giggles. “Babe, yes, we are going to do that. It’s not dumb, it’s sexy, and hot, and your ass is incredible in those pants. I dunno who told you that it’s a dumb or weird fantasy, but…” he exhales and shakes his head. His exes have never wanted to hear about anything to do with his work, let alone bring it into the bedroom. Yet another reason to add to the list of ‘Why Carlos Reyes Is Perfect,’ he supposes. “Well, now I’m just- You feeling up to trying again? Tonight?” They’re both hard again, and TK can’t help but reach a hand over to brush against Carlos’ cock. “Just… Normally. No kinkiness? You okay with that?”
Carlos sits down on the floor between TK’s legs and kisses his upper right thigh. “Yeah. If I can just… Do this? Show you I love you?” TK nods, and Carlos leans in, taking the head of his dick in his mouth as sweetly as he can. Above him, TK sucks in a breath and places one leg over Carlos’ shoulder, pulling him closer.
Carlos’ mouth is always so nice, in a way none of his exes had ever been. Then again, none of his exes ever cared about him as much as Carlos does. In one single day, Carlos manages to make him feel more loved than he had felt in all the years of all of his previous relationships ever had, combined. Carlos is perfect in every way, for TK. They haven’t been together for long- months, not years. But would his soul fit into Carlos’ hands, his mouth, his arms, if he isn’t meant, in his very core, for Carlos? If he isn’t Carlos’, if Carlos isn’t TK’s, why does every inch of his entire existence ache for every inch of Carlos’?
One of his hands reaches out desperately, and Carlos takes it. Butterflies beat against his heart as Carlos sucks on his dick, big brown eyes staring up as him like he hung the moon. It’s gentle and sweet and everything TK hadn’t planned for tonight to be, but when had he planned for Carlos? He hadn’t planned to be dragged to Texas, hadn’t planned to fall into bed with a man with strong arms and kind eyes, hadn’t planned for the man to pull every part of him to the surface like a magnet dragging iron filings from a pile of sand.
TK’s breath gets heavier, soft, meaningless praises trailing from his lips. Long moments pass, sticky and sweet. When he finally comes, it’s slow and building, tugging his heart and his stomach as well as his cock. He gasps, thighs squeezing tight around Carlos' head, as his throat contracts slightly around him, swallowing every bit.
A quiet shuffling of skin on skin can just barely be heard over the pounding in his own heart- Carlos' soft moans around his softening dick give him away too easily. He pulls off of TK as soon as his thighs unclench, and hurries up, stroking himself with a kind of desperation and urgency that makes TK wish he hadn’t just come. He slides to the floor in front of Carlos and bats his hand away to replace it with his own. Carlos’ eyes flutter shut as he strokes again and again, and Carlos comes, all over his own stomach and TK’s hand.
For a moment, they just stare at each other with weary eyes. Slowly, a smile tugs at TK's lips, and Carlos smiles back. Broader and broader they grin, until something catches in one of their throats, and suddenly they’re a mess of laughter on the floor- hugging and kissing and muttering “I-love-you"s as best they can through their uncontrollable giggling.
Maybe they don’t get everything right- this isn’t their first misstep, and it surely won’t be their last. But, TK wonders, as he lays with his cheek pressed against Carlos’ heartbeat, does it really matter? He loves Carlos, and Carlos loves him. And that’s enough.