we make a pretty good team

“Oh my god,” Marjan says, picking up a faded pink box. She turns it over in her hands, studying the cover with wide, unbelieving eyes. “TK, what the hell is this?”

Two girls with big, teased ‘80s style hair smile out from the cover, both leaning into a giant pink phone.

“Oh shit!” TK laughs, too delighted to be embarrassed by this particular discovery from his past. “It’s Dream Phone, I forgot about this.”

“Dream Phone?” Marjan and Carlos ask in confused unison. 

“Yeah you use this big phone and it gives you clues about which boy likes you.” At their blank expressions he continues. “You guys never played this?”

“I was engaged when I was twelve, so no, there wasn’t a lot of boy talk in my house.” Marjan says flatly.

Carlos snorts into his coffee.

“Yeah, my dad would’ve had a lot of questions if I was dialing a pink phone trying to find out what boy liked me…”

“Whatever,” TK says, setting the box to the side. “It’s a deduction game. It’s basically just like Clue.”

“Uh huh.”

“I could totally be a detective!”

Good morning everyone! The final chapter of No One Gets Left Behind is coming soon - and I wanted to share this part that makes my own heart squeeze. I intended to write a fic that might feel like a post-season 5 Tarlos-centric episode of the show, which we never got to have. I really hope I've managed it with this one. It's been a blast to write and share ❤️

Jonah, as if sensing that he’s being watched, looks up to meet Carlos’ eye and grins back at him. Without being beckoned, because he just knows he’s wanted, Jonah hops up on his little cowboy boots and jogs to his papas, dodging their dancing friends as he goes.

“Hey!” TK cheers happily when he feels the familiar slam of Jonah meeting his side. “There you are.”

“Wanna dance with us?” Carlos asks him.

“Yeah!” Jonah replies, and lifts his arms to be picked up.

TK and Carlos look at each other, grinning with surprise. They’ll often scoop Jonah up as they please, to tickle and horse around with him, or they’ll naturally pick him up and cradle him if he’s upset. It’s rarer, these days, that their six-year-old will put his arms up like this, like he did when he was three.

TK and Carlos each grab him under a reaching arm and bring him up. While TK gets Jonah positioned comfortably on his hip, Carlos takes Jonah’s free hand, and puts his other hand on top of where Jonah clutches TK’s shoulder. Together, they swirl around, and Carlos breaks into silly shimmies and sometimes the robot – anything to make Jonah laugh and scream. Anything. Anything for that beautiful, enlivened sound that becomes part of the music. TK and Jonah, Carlos thinks, are handsome guys anyway, but when they are happy, and feel safe to be happy, and express that joy, especially at the same time, there’s nothing more beautiful in the world.

Carlos can’t help himself. He leans in and kisses Jonah’s cheek, then kisses TK’s.

“I think I’m the luckiest guy in all of Texas,” Carlos announces.

“No, I think it’s me, actually,” TK twinkles back at him.

“No, I am!” Jonah says eagerly, shooting his hand up. He doesn’t want to miss a chance to stake his claim as the luckiest of all. And it is true. Not everybody gets to have a TK and Carlos of their very own.

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