#but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt Paul!!! it still hurts PUl!!!

[theclockistickingwrite]

Missing Camilla Hect hours

[morganaspendragonss]

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.” With Carlos’ the one wearing the sweater!

holly's august extravaganza day 19: whatever here that's left of me (is yours)

thank you!

34. “Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.” (from the fluff section of this list)

ao3 | 1.4k | hurt/comfort, post 2.12, supportive tk, softness

The morning after the fire, it’s TK who wakes up first, and for once it makes perfect sense. Carlos had barely been able to sleep, and though it hadn’t exactly been a picnic for TK either, he’s not the one going through the grief of losing years of his life all at once. Not to the extent that Carlos is, anyway.

TK sighs and rolls his head to look at Carlos’s sleeping face. He runs his thumb softly over the crease on his brow, wishing the simple motion could smooth it away and make everything okay again. Make it so last night never happened, and this is just a normal morning in their own bed, in their own house.

He tries to pretend for a little while, but the illusion is shattered all too quickly by a soft knocking at the bedroom door. Carefully, TK removes Carlos’s arm from where it is loosely slung over his hips and gets out of bed, checking to make sure he hasn’t disturbed him before padding across the room.

He keeps the door only cracked open to prevent too much light from getting into the room. His dad is on the other side, smiling sadly, a large box in his hands and several bags at his feet. TK braces himself for a joke; his dad has always been the type to fall back on humour in difficult situations, but he finds himself pleasantly surprised.

“I meant to give these to you guys last night,” he says, lifting the box slightly, “but things were so crazy that… Anyway. You left some clothes here when you moved out, so I figured you might want them.”

“Thanks, Dad.” TK takes the box from him, glancing down into it. There’s not much—a couple of hoodies, some screwed up t-shirts and button ups, a pair of sweats—but it’s all he has, and more than Carlos does. He sighs softly, then turns back into the bedroom and places the box down by the wardrobe. Carlos is still asleep when he glances at him, and all TK wants to do is curl up beside him again.

But when he goes to close the door, he instead finds himself with an arm full of bags.

“Those are from the crew,” he dad explains. “Paul stopped by with them earlier; he said to tell you that if there was anything you two needed, they all want to help out.”

TK nods. He’d thought the crew might do something like this, though that doesn’t make him any less grateful.

His dad shuffles awkwardly, clearly finding the silence uncomfortable. “Mateo wanted to contribute too, but we told him not to. You know, because—”

“Because he’s only just replaced his own clothes, I know.”

“Yeah.”

Silence again, and TK loves his dad, but he can’t deal with this right now. Guilt lies thick in the air, somehow worse than last night, but TK is in no mood to address it now. Maybe later, when they’ve had time to think about it all, but right now he’s too tired. Besides, there’s no way he’s getting into what he’s sure will become an argument when Carlos is sleeping just feet away.

TK takes a step back. “Carlos is still asleep,” he says. “So I’m just gonna…” He tips his head back, gesturing into the bedroom, and his dad understands, also moving back.

“Right, of course. I, uh, I have my follow-up appointment at the hospital today, but I’ll see you guys later. Maybe then we can talk?”

“Sure.”

Without waiting for an answer, TK gently shuts the door and turns to place the bags on top of the box. Carlos stirs when he climbs back in bed, his eyelids cracking open.

“Did something happen?” he mumbles, trying to push himself upright.

TK shushes him. “It was just my dad dropping some clothes off for us,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

Carlos drops back off within seconds, TK watching the steady rhythm of his chest and listening to his soft breaths. He reaches out and lightly runs his fingers through Carlos’s hair, pushing back a few stray curls. It’s almost like any other morning, so TK closes his eyes and pretends for a little while longer.

*

TK would have been happy to stay in bed with Carlos all day, but eventually the grumbling of his stomach becomes too insistent to ignore. He heaves himself up once more and selects a shirt at random from the box of his old stuff, wrinkling his nose when he sees what it is. He’d left this one behind on purpose, the print too much for him to care what happened to the shirt. The same goes for most of the clothes in the box, but it’s not like he’s spoiled for choice, so it’ll have to do.

There’s a pair of jeans his size in one of the bags, so TK bundles everything up and trudges to the bathroom. He’s been running into fires his entire working life; he’s perfected the art of getting rid of unwanted smells, but this time is different. This time, no matter how many times he washes himself, the smoke and grime still feels like it’s sticking to his skin, a permanent cloud around him.

TK blames his dad’s shampoos, because it’s easier than admitting he’s imagining it.

Once he’s showered and dressed, he heads to the kitchen to make breakfast. Carlos joins him not ten minutes later, still looking exhausted, though he attempts a wan smile when their eyes meet. TK returns it and kisses him on the cheek, passing him a cup of coffee.

He studies his boyfriend as they stand in silence, his heart breaking at what he sees. Carlos is a big guy, but right now he’s never looked smaller, shoulders hunched and his eyes darting around the kitchen, as if taking it all in. They’ve hung out here together before, especially right after TK got shot, but it must feel different now, knowing there’s nowhere else for them to go.

Knowing that, technically, this is now their home.

Carlos sets his mug on the counter and scrubs his hands down his face, then puls at his sleeves like he’s trying to stretch them to fit. Which… Wait.

“Are you…” TK leans closer, peering at the hoodie Carlos is wearing, and—yep. “Why are you wearing my hoodie?”

Carlos flushes and tugs at the neckline—another demonstration of how uncomfortable it must be for him to wear it. The height difference between them is miniscule, but sizing is another matter entirely; TK’s hoodie is obviously pulled tight across Carlos’s chest and it doesn’t sit right on his body, too small for his build.

“Babe,” TK starts worriedly, “was there nothing in your size from the crew? You should have said something. We can fix this, you don’t need to be uncomfortable.”

There’s a beat, and then Carlos, studiously avoiding TK’s gaze, clears his throat. “It smells like you.”

TK blinks. “What?”

“I’m wearing it because it smells like you. I don’t— The only clothes I have left of mine smell of the fire, but this is yours and… I don’t know, I guess it makes me feel safe?” He laughs nervously, pulling at the hem as though he’s going to take the hoodie off. “Pretty stupid, right?”

TK puts a hand out and stops him. “No,” he says softly. He honestly has no idea how that hoodie smells even remotely like him after a month abandoned here, but if it makes Carlos feel safe, then who is TK to argue? “Not stupid at all. You should keep it.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care that I’m probably stretching it?”

“Why would I?” TK asks. “I left it here for a reason, Carlos. Plus, I’d sacrifice a thousand hoodies if I knew it would make you feel safe; one is nothing.”

It’s far from the most romantic thing TK’s ever said, but the way Carlos hugs him makes it feel like it. He presses kiss after kiss to Carlos’s cheek and the shell of his ear, comforting him like he tried to do last night.

“Besides,” he whispers after a moment, “this just means it’ll be big enough for when I inevitably steal it back from you.”

And, for the first time since the fire, Carlos laughs—really, truly laughs. The sound is muffled against TK’s shoulder, but it’s so goddamn beautiful, and TK would do anything to hear it again.

Even if that involves giving up every hoodie he owns.