A/N: This boy is so whumpable I can't even.
"I think he stepped in every single cow patty in that whole damn field!" Paul was laughing so hard he was wheezing and everyone else at the table was in a similar state of hilarity.
"They were everywhere!" Mateo cried indignantly. "It wasn't like I did it on purpose! Besides you all made me go out there!"
"That's your job probie. Doing the shit things nobody else wants to," Judd said, his joke causing another roar of laughter from the group.
The hour was growing late but the crowd at the bar had just started to get going. It was rare for the entire 126 to be out post-shift on a Friday night and they were making the most of it. Owen had joined them for a few hours and then gone home to get his "beauty sleep" as Judd referred to it. He'd given them a brief "dad" lecture about making good choices and not staying out too late and then left them to their fun. Tommy had begged off at the same time citing her need to get home to Charles and the girls, leaving only the younger members of the team to finish out the night.
"Who needs another round?" Marjan asked.
Carlos released T.K.'s hand from under the table and stood up. "I got it," he said. "Sounds like it was a rough shift."
He made his way to the bar and ordered drinks for the group and nodded patiently when the bartender told him it would be a minute. They were clearly understaffed tonight and doing an admirable job, but one person making drinks for dozens could only move so fast.
Carlos was severely jostled by a beefy man who pushed his way into the bar. "Hey! Sweetheart!" he yelled far too loudly, even for a crowded bar.
Carlos winced but didn't say anything. Yelling too loud wasn't a crime, and the last thing anyone needed tonight was an altercation.
"Hey!" the guy yelled again. "Anybody in this place going to serve me or what?"
From the smell of him and the way he was swaying he'd already been served several times over. Carlos let out a grunt and stumbled a few steps to the right as the man bumped into him again.
"Hey!" he heard someone else exclaim as the man tried to push even closer to the bar.
"You! Bitch!" the guy yelled. "Are you going to serve me a damn drink or what?"
"Hey knock it off!" another man nearby yelled.
The drunk guy turned on him. "What did you say to me?" he growled.
"You need to get out of here," the man said. "Go home. You're drunk."
The drunk man growled and gave the guy a shove.
"Whoa, hey now." Carlos moved, no longer able to ignore the unfolding situation, stepping in between them, hands up in a non-threatening manner. "Let's just calm down here."
"I want a drink!" the guy snapped.
"I think you're done for the night," Carlos told him, keeping his voice even and relaxed. "How about a coffee instead?"
"I'm not leaving without a drink! I'm here and I'll get a drink if I want it!"
Clearly this guy wasn't going to take a gentle suggestion. "I'm afraid I can't allow that," Carlos said. "Why don't I call you an Uber all right?"
He should have seen the punch coming but he'd had a couple beers of his own and he honestly wasn't expecting a drunk guy to move so fast. One moment Carlos was standing upright the next he was doubled over in pain. He barely had time to register that he'd been punched before he felt himself being propelled backward until he slammed against the wall, head cracking sharply against the plaster, making spots dance before his eyes.
Hands wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. He struggled, his own hands grabbing and scratching as he tried desperately to take a breath and failed. He grabbed onto the man's wrists, trying in vain to pull them off, but the guy was big and strong and nothing Carlos did made him budge even a little.
He was beginning to truly panic when the hands vanished and he fell to the ground on all fours, choking and gasping for air.
"Carlos!" T.K. dropped to his knees beside him, hands cradling his face. "Hey! Breathe, breathe! Deep breaths, you're okay!"
As the roaring in Carlos' ears began to fade and breath became easier to come by he could hear shouting and scuffling throughout the bar. He started to get to his feet but pain in his ribs and dizziness in his head stopped him, along with T.K.'s hands, which had moved to his shoulders. "Hey, no, nope, you're out of the fight for now," T.K. told him. "Judd's got him handled."
There were already sirens blaring outside and Carlos felt a trickle of embarrassment at having to be rescued by his own people. This would be all over the precinct tomorrow and he might never live it down.
"Do you think you can stand?" T.K. asked.
Carlos nodded and let his boyfriend help him to his feet and into a chair. He winced, putting a hand to his abdomen. The pain there was in competition with the bruising he could already feel around his throat. "Just couldn't stay off the job, huh?" T.K. asked with a slightly forced smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"I didn't start it," Carlos said, his voice coming out strained and painful.
"I know," T.K. cupped his cheek. "What hurts?"
Carlos sucked in a shaky breath and tried to take stock of himself. "My ribs. My neck."
"Hey is he okay?" Marjan asked, coming toward them.
"He'll live," T.K. said. "Can you get me some ice?"
She nodded. "On it."
"How bad's the pain?" T.K. asked as he began running his hands gently through Carlos' hair.
He had clearly slipped into paramedic mode, fingers searching for injuries. "I'm fine," Carlos said. "Just bruised."
T.K. probed gently at his abdomen and Carlos winced. "Tender?" T.K. asked.
Carlos nodded, still trying to process everything that had happened in the last few minutes.
Marjan returned with a couple bags of ice and towels. "Thanks," T.K. said wrapping up one bag and handing it to Carlos. "Put this on your ribs."
"Is everyone else all right?" Carlos asked, trying to see around T.K. to where his fellow cops had started taking statements.
"Nancy's looking at Judd's hand, it's probably just bruised but he might have broken a finger or two. Took a lot to get that guy down," Marjan said.
T.K. finally shifted enough that Carlos could see what was happening. The drunk guy was being hauled off the floor by a couple of Carlos' colleagues. Mateo and Paul were both glaring at him, arms crossed, clearly annoyed that he'd ruined the team's evening out. Judd was sitting in a chair nearby holding some ice on his hand while Nancy appeared to be consulting with a newly arrived paramedic team.
It was another hour of being checked over (he was fine, just bruised as predicted) and giving statements (yes he was an off duty officer, no he had not instigated the fight, no he had not put his hands on his assailant).
"You doing all right?" Judd asked when things finally began to clear out.
"I'm fine," Carlos said. "Thanks to you. How's your hand?"
"Aw it'll be good in a day or two," Judd said, turning it over and flexing his fingers.
"You should have seen it!" Mateo said. "I've never seen Judd move so fast!"
"Well he was try'na kill Carlos," Judd grumbled, clearly disgruntled at having attention brought to his heroics. "If I hadn't saved him T.K. woulda cried and I didn't want no part in that."
"I sincerely appreciate it," Carlos said.
"And with that, we should probably all go home and get some sleep," Paul said, clapping a hand on Judd's shoulder.
T.K. gently took the keys from Carlos' fingers in the parking lot and Carlos shot him a grateful smile, climbing gingerly into the passenger seat.
He found himself nodding off on the way home, T.K.'s hand a comforting presence on his knee the entire way.
He walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and winced when he caught his reflection in the mirror. Finger shaped bruises ringed his throat and he swallowed hard, remembering those eternal seconds when his oxygen had cut off and he'd been sure he was about to die.
"Hey." T.K. slipped in behind him, arms going around his waist as he pressed a kiss to Carlos' shoulder. "They'll fade in a couple days."
Carlos nodded. "I know."
"No one will say anything at work."
Carlos scoffed. "Oh, everyone will say something at work. 'Heard you had to be rescued by a firefighter Reyes.' 'Heard you got your ass kicked by a drunk guy Reyes.'"
T.K. gently turned him around so he could look him in the eye. "You saved people from getting hurt tonight. I'm proud of you. That's all that matters."
Carlos dropped his forehead, letting it rest against T.K.'s as T.K.'s hand came up to cup his face. Carlos closed the rest of the distance, their lips meeting in a soft, reassuring kiss.
T.K. pulled back after a moment, a cocky smile on his face. Carlos raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"Well at least a couple good things came out of tonight."
"And they are…?"
"He didn't go for your face." T.K. rubbed his thumb over Carlos' cheek.
"Yes the sucker punch to the gut was definitely more pleasant," Carlos said sarcastically, a hand moving to his still throbbing ribcage. "What's the other thing?"
T.K. grinned. "Thirty years from now when I want to remember how perfect your ass looked when you were young and fit, all I have to do is visit that bar and see the impression you left in the wall."
A/N: T.K. knows a good thing when he sees it. Carlos' ass is a very good thing.