It was a sunny afternoon in Austin, Texas, and TK Strand had just returned home from a grueling double shift at Station 126. The smell of fresh coffee brewing wafted through the air as Carlos Reyes, his husband, leaned against the kitchen counter, flipping through a stack of paperwork. His police uniform was uncharacteristically wrinkled, a sign that Carlos, too, had endured a rough day.

TK dropped his bag by the door, glancing over at Carlos. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice with a knife.

"Hey," TK said cautiously, hoping to gauge Carlos's mood.

Carlos didn't look up. "Hey."

TK raised an eyebrow. Uh-oh. This was one of those "Heys." The ones that meant Carlos was annoyed. Or angry. Or both.

"You okay?" TK ventured.

Carlos snapped the file shut with a little more force than necessary and finally looked up. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed. "Oh, I'm fine. Just peachy. How about you?"

TK blinked. "I… feel like that's a trick question?"

Carlos tossed the paperwork onto the counter and crossed his arms. "Do you want to tell me why I got a call from Owen today about you almost blowing up a fire hydrant? Again?"

TK grimaced. "Oh, come on. That was barely my fault."

Carlos tilted his head. "Barely?"

"Well," TK started, pacing the kitchen, "it wasn't the fire hydrant that blew up so much as… the truck that hit it? Which, in my defense, wouldn't have happened if Marjan hadn't dared me to parallel park in under fifteen seconds."

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something in Spanish that TK couldn't quite catch.

"You're mad," TK said, leaning against the counter opposite Carlos. "I can feel it."

"Oh, you think?" Carlos shot back. "What gave it away? The vein in my forehead or the fact that your father now has blackmail material he will never let us live down?"

TK winced. "Okay, first of all, that's not fair. Your mom is way worse with blackmail. Remember the time she—"

"This isn't about my mom!" Carlos snapped, throwing his hands up. "This is about you, TK! You're reckless, you're impulsive, and you don't think things through!"

TK held up a finger. "Correction: I don't think everything through. Big difference."

Carlos groaned, turning to the fridge and yanking it open. He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water and slammed the door shut. TK watched as Carlos struggled to twist off the cap, the tension building until—

"Here," TK said, reaching for the bottle. "Let me—"

"I've got it!" Carlos barked, yanking the bottle away and popping the cap off with unnecessary force, sending a spray of fizzy water all over the counter. Both men stared at the mess.

"Are you done?" TK asked, folding his arms.

"Are you?" Carlos shot back.

A beat of silence passed, and then TK couldn't help it. He laughed. Carlos glared at him, his expression somewhere between murderous and exhausted.

"This isn't funny, TK," Carlos said, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

"It's a little funny," TK countered, gesturing to the dripping counter. "You're over here giving me a lecture on control while drowning our kitchen in sparkling water. The irony is chef's kiss."

Carlos's lips pressed into a thin line, but the fight was visibly draining from him. He sighed, setting the bottle down. "You're impossible."

"And you're adorable when you're mad," TK said, stepping closer. "Like a grumpy chihuahua."

Carlos gave him a flat look. "Did you just compare me to a chihuahua?"

"Not just any chihuahua," TK said, wrapping his arms around Carlos's waist. "The cutest, sassiest chihuahua in all of Texas."

Carlos tried to maintain his scowl, but a reluctant smile broke through. "You're so lucky I love you."

"I really am," TK said, resting his forehead against Carlos's. "But come on, babe, you can't stay mad at me forever."

Carlos's arms came up to circle TK's shoulders, and he sighed again, this time with less frustration and more resignation. "You're going to fix this with your dad. You are going to apologize. And you're never, ever parking a fire truck again."

"Deal," TK said instantly. "And I'll even throw in dinner tonight. Your choice."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "My choice? No complaints? No subtle digs about how my enchiladas are better than the restaurant's?"

"Nope," TK said. "Tonight, I'm the chihuahua's humble servant."

Carlos chuckled, leaning in to kiss TK softly. "I'll hold you to that."

"Good," TK murmured against his lips. "And for the record, I am sorry. I'll be more careful next time."

"There better not be a next time," Carlos said, pulling back just enough to look TK in the eyes. "But… apology accepted."

They stood there for a moment, the earlier tension dissolving as they held each other. And then—

"Wait," Carlos said, his tone suddenly sharp. "Did you say Marjan dared you to parallel park the fire truck?"

TK froze. "Uh… maybe?"

Carlos stepped back, crossing his arms again. "Oh, we're not done."