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tk is breathing, soft and steady beside carlos’ side. if he strains his eyes hard enough, carlos might be able to see the rhythmic rise and fall of tk’s chest. maybe he could make out the thin yellow threads of his hoodie or the weathered gaps between his knuckles, the blush of a coin-shaped burn tk had earned the week prior trying to pull a tray of oatmeal cookies out of the oven. 

 

the concept of baking is my arch nemesis, tk explained to him between kisses to carlos' chest the day after it happened, told my pt i got it pulling kittens out of a burning building and the dude totally gave me his number. can you believe it? he’s hot too. carlos tries not to wince thinking about the way his chest had tightened up at that. 

 

falling for hot guys who don’t give a shit about anything but getting their dick’s wet: the annotated novel. written, edited, illustrated and published by carlos reyes. 

 

carlos chews on his lip. alright, maybe that’s a little unfair. tk isn’t just a horny hot guy. tk likes baking, even though he’s terrible at it. tk loves his dad and wants more than anything to be just like him. tk puts his life on the line for people he doesn't even know and he's damn good at it. tk’s smile lights up every single room he’s in and god carlos could honestly stare at it all day. he knows this for a fact because every time tk smiles, carlos can feel his heart flutter. genuinely flutter, like he’s in fucking elementary school. he’s screwed.

 

you okay?" tk asks, barely above a whisper, pulling carlos back to the present.

 

tk’s looking at up at him from where his head in resting between carlos’ shoulder and chest. it’s dark but carlos can still see the sparkle of tk’s eyes. he looks tired. carlos hates himself for how quickly he puts a smile on, and then hates himself even more for how obvious that probably was.

 

yeah man, of course. you?” carlos replies, uncomfortably loud in the early morning stillness.

 

“yeah, yeah. i’m good.” tk says, tightening an arm around carlos’ middle. “hey, about before, i-”

 

“it’s cool,” carlos interrupts “we don’t have to talk about it.”

 

tk is silent; just keeps looking up at carlos like he’s expecting him to say something more.

 

“i get it. honestly, it was a stupid idea. we can keep hooking up just- pretend that never happened.”

 

tk doesn’t say anything in return; instead, he lets out a shaky breath and reaches out. the pads of his fingers are warm when they press, tentative, against carlos’ jaw. they spread out; trace circles into the back of his neck, flutter behind his ear and weave through the beginnings of a curl that’s starting to form there.

 

there’s a sharp lurch of something painful tunneling its’ way through carlos’ chest and clawing at the back of his throat.

 

he wants it to stop.

 

carlos leans over, presses his lips down hard on tk’s. in a split second, he’s flipped them over. tk is panting now, breathing hard into carlos’ mouth. carlos’ knees are bracketed on either side of tk’s hips and he’s working a hand down the front of his jeans, expertly unbutting them and pulling the fly down in one swift move.

 

it’s a habit tk has -- dressing himself right after sex. carlos noticed somewhere between the second and third time they slept together. it’s impractical, and annoying. all it ever does is get in the way of a round two and carlos has told tk this before but the the annoying bastard never listens. 

 

regardless, carlos is learning to appreciate getting the opportunity to undress tk over and over again.

 

tk is warm and receptive beneath him. he’s hard, carlos can feel the heat of it press into his palm. carlos twitches in his boxers. 

 

“i want you.” tk breathes into his mouth, nails digging crescent moons into carlos’ shoulder blades.

 

carlos obliges, nipping at tk’s lower lip, the heel of his palm working itself against the smooth skin of tk’s cock in neat circles. carlos pulls out of the kiss, buries his face in tk’s neck, trying desperately to will away the memory of tk, devastatingly beautiful as ever, wrapped up in a sunshine yellow hoodie, imploring across the table that in fact he doesn’t want this , he doesn’t want carlos. he can’t let tk see it -- the desperation that must be painting his face red, the pure, raw desire seeping out of his skin. he wants, needs , so badly to bury himself inside tk, needs to see the look on his face when he comes off of carlos’ cock. needs so painfully for those words to be true.

 

tk is panting in his ear; soft little ah ah ah ’s warm and damp against the rough skin of carlos’ jaw. 

 

“off” carlos says finally. he won’t ruin this for himself, nor will he ruin it for tk. 

 

tk lets carlos pull his shirt over his head without any resistance. the sun is starting to rise now; dancing off the shimmer of sweat on tk’s forehead and across his chest.

 

carlos shimmies tk’s boxer briefs down just enough to expose his hip bones, then kisses a trail up his inner thigh. when their eyes meet again carlos takes in the blown out state of tk’s pupils, the flush of deep pink staining the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, the way his lips are parted just enough to expose the way one corner is trapped between his teeth.

 

carlos doesn’t look away when he closes his mouth over tk’s clothed cock, dampening the fabric with the wet of his tongue. tk’s chest rises sharply as he takes in a breath. suddenly there’s a hand in carlos’ hair, scratching lightly against his scalp, knotting in a pulling just enough to cause a little pain.

 

“fuck carlos, you’re so good at that. god.

 

the praise urges carlos on. tk is so hard at this point that the tip of his dick is peeking out of the band of his boxers, flushed and leaking. carlos flicks his tongue against it, lets his lips slowly slip over the top and draw the whole head in. tk stiffens, thigh muscles flexing under carlos’ palms. their eyes are yet to break contact despite tk’s almost being closed now, lashes quivering in time with his sharp breaths, eyes half lidded in arousal.

 

carlos pulls off of tk’s cock and takes the elastic of tk’s boxers between his teeth, drags them down his thighs, swollen dick bobbing free, balls already drawn tight around the base. carlos wets his lips at the sight, pausing for a moment to admire the full, gorgeous picture. there isn’t a single thing about tk that isn’t sexy as hell, including this. not small, but not huge either. it’s the perfect size, curved up the tiniest bit so that it tickles the back of carlos’ throat when he’s sucking him off. carlos thinks about that same tickle when he’s alone at night, biting down into his pillow when he’s stroking himself off.

 

he wants to take tk into his mouth, but right now he’s craving something else.

 

“can i?” carlos asks, pressing the pad of his thumb into tk’s perineum.

 

tk nods, fervent. “please ” 

 

at that, carlos dips his head and licks right over tk’s hole, sinking the tip in just enough to have tk shouting out. tk’s ass, like his dick, and the rest of him, is perfect. soft enough for carlos to dig his fingertips into the flesh and bruise but toned at the same time; muscled and firm like michelangelo himself carved it from marble.

 

tk is spread out and shivering in front of him, almost whining, eyes squeezing shut and head tilted back. carlos starts to slowly fuck him with his tongue, wet and filthy just how tk likes it. he has to hold tk down by his hip bones to stop him from bucking out of his grip, seemingly too lost in pleasure to realize how difficult it is to eat someone out when they’re thrashing all over the place.

 

carlos can feel himself rocking back and forth steadily now, hips pushing up into the air desperate for friction. he finds himself grinding down into the mattress, so utterly turned on by the noises tk is making that he can’t stop himself.

 

carlos hauls himself up onto his knees. there’s a condom and some lube on the side table -- carlos is pretty sure he breaks a record with how quickly he tears the packet open, rolls it on, and slicks himself up. when he’s done, his lips find tk’s, who’s hand is sliding down carlos’ chest, tk finds his cock and guides it between the cleft of his ass. it only takes a moment for carlos to adjust, pressing the head of his dick into tk’s heat, colours flashing across the insides of his eyelids at the tightness of it.

 

tk is biting down into his top lip, hard enough to draw blood. his hair is sticking to his forehead in clumps and carlos can see sweat beading on his skin. he looks absolutely filthy, and so, so very hot. their lips slide together, both moving at pace now, desperate, bodies locking together and moving in unison.

 

every nerve ending in carlos’ body is lighting up with pleasure -- from the tips of his fingers to to base of his spine to his ankles. he knew he wasn’t going to last long, but his peak is coming on much sooner than he realized. tk doesn’t seem to be doing much better; his arms are latched around carlos’ neck, and there’s a litany of curses spilling over his lips, dripping onto carlos’ shoulder, soaking into the skin there.

 

carlos can’t stop himself from reaching down to feel the spot where they’re connected -- the slide; hot and wet. carlos had fingered tk open earlier; bent him over the dining table where tk had turned him down earlier that night, dinner packed away and long forgotten in the fridge. carlos wasn’t expecting tk to come knocking again, barely half an hour after he’d left. they didn’t speak. just looked at each other for a moment before tk pressed carlos’ back into his front door and got down on his knees.

 

impulsively, carlos presses the tip of his middle finger into tk’s ass, beside his cock, followed by his pointer. the erotcism of it is too much for either of them to handle. tk shudders, chokes out a garbled moan, and splashes white across both of their bellies. it’s enough to make carlos stutter forward, bottoming out, before spilling deep inside of tk.

 

carlos collapses into tk’s chest, the latter’s come wet and sticky between their bodies. every single bone in his body feels like it’s made of jelly and his joints ache like a motherfucker. he’s got a shift in an hour and a half. he can’t bring himself to care.

 

fuck ” tk sighs into carlos’ neck after a beat, kissing the spot beneath his earlobe. “we’re good at that, aren’t we.”

 

carlos can’t bring himself to answer. he knows he’s kind of heavy and that he’s definitely squashing tk but he doesn’t really want to move. if he moves, tk gets dressed. and if tk gets dressed, tk is also going to leave.

 

“hey” tk whispers, peppering kisses across carlos’ jaw, ending with a nip to his earlobe. “you fall asleep already, big guy?”

 

carlos shakes his head, nose buried somewhere between tk’s collarbone and his shoulder.

 

“sorry” carlos gets out, finally. deluding himself isn’t going to make this any easier; just delay the pain a little.

 

he rolls off of tk, stares up at the ceiling. there’s a little glow in the dark star stuck to the corner of his ceiling. it was there when he moved in, he’ll have to scrape that off sometime soon.

 

“hey” tk whispers again. then, a kiss. it’s barely there; a silken brush of lips and stubble against carlos’ cheek. tk leans his forehead into carlos’ hair. noses at his skin. carlos reluctantly lets himself feel the flutter of tk’s eyelashes across his cheekbone.

 

“i don’t know how to fix this.” tk breathes into the silence.

 

carlos’ spine is the taught string of an overly tuned violin -- drawn so tight that he thinks it might snap at any moment and leave him crippled and twitching in tk's arms. he can't mean... them? can he? after everything, surely not.

 

“fix this?” carlos queries, tentative, not letting himself look at tk just yet.

 

“i’m sorry.” tk says with a deep sigh, pressing his mouth to carlos' cheek once moe. “i need you to know it’s not… it wasn’t you. i’m just--” tk huffs “i’m fucked up.” 

 

carlos stares at tk’s forearm for a minute — takes it all in, doing his best to imprint the memory into his brain. when he turns to look at tk, there’s a crease between his brow. he’s stressed. he looks… afraid. like he’s scared of what he’s about to say.

 

“you hungry?”

 

carlos blinks, confused. that’s the polar opposite of what he thought was about to come out of tk’s mouth.

 

“come on,” tk says, lacing his fingers through carlos’ with a flourish and a sweet kiss to his lips, “let’s eat. i’ll tell you all about it.”