In the Fishbowl - 12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Travis Beltnick was not one of the world’s many people who found the symptoms of sleep deprivation uncomfortable to deal with, especially when they were self-induced. The fatigue kept him focused on one task at a time, and walking around half asleep wasn’t exactly a bad thing when it kept him from simple distractions like speaking to others and stopping in unnecessary places-- often going in circles before he wound up where he meant to.

Today it was one foot after another. Things could be so much simpler when they weren’t.... complicated. And, even if they tended to be complicated, Travis would simply ignore the fact when he was too tired to deal with it.

Being tired also made him numb, and being numb made him feel brave. His trip into the Gordon dealership on Tuesday morning could attest to that.

There were a few people waiting in the lobby, at least two of them looking impatient, and a woman who always seemed to be there on the busier days behind the desk where Travis usually spent most of his time. It hadn’t taken her long to notice him, and she looked both surprised and annoyed to find that he had graced her with his presence this morning. He approached her with his usual carefree smile, only because it aggravated her even more.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she told him in a hushed, but far less friendly voice. “I’ve covered three of your shifts, and Mr. Gordon said that...”

“Are you covering one of my shifts now?” Travis asked her. “I really don’t remember when I was supposed to be here.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, you don’t have anymore...”

“You sure have a lot of people waiting,” Travis commented as he looked around the lobby again. “You did say you were here to work, right?” Travis dropped his bag carelessly next to the desk. “If you get me one of those sandwiches from the vending machine, I’ll say you helped. I like ham.”

The woman stared at him, looking frustrated before her eyes widened, as if he’d actually shocked her. Travis grinned, deciding that ruffling someone’s feathers wasn’t such a bad way to start a day, but as he turned he came to a quick halt, realizing that he wasn’t responsible for his coworker’s reaction at all.

“Crap,” Travis muttered.

John Gordon was in his usual tidy suit, with his usual imposing presence in place, and in Travis’s opinion, not the best person to run into when trying to start a good morning. Especially when Mr. Gordon’s intrusive glare was focused entirely on Travis, and not in his usual attempt to seem threatening. This morning, Mr. Gordon was threatening. And noticeably... different.

The man seemed taller to Travis; bold and important. He’d managed a close shave that he hadn’t bothered with since before Travis had met him, and his stern face seemed to glow a little. And maybe he’d combed his hair a little differently. Trimmed his nose hairs? Travis couldn’t seem to place all of the changes, but they did alarm him. It was much easier when John Gordon was a complete wreck.

“Mr. Gordon,” the woman behind Travis said, “I’ve been trying to...”

“I don’t pay you to bother me,” John Gordon snapped at her, but in a voice that seemed conscious of potential customers. “Figure it out for yourself. Travis, grab the boxes out of my office and meet me outside.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Huh?” He’d expected scolding, cursing... maybe a little growling when he finally ran into his boss. Not immediate orders.

Mr. Gordon only seemed aggravated by Travis’s confusion as he gave his dark-haired and smart-assed employee a once-over. “Do you still work for me?” he demanded.

“Right now?” Travis responded, as if he had to think about it.

“Get the boxes,” John repeated, and then rushed away before Travis could ask why he was getting boxes, or what was in them. Not that it mattered. Travis just knew that asking too many questions annoyed Mr. Gordon, and annoying Mr. Gordon could be characterized as a favorite hobby.

The only boxes Travis found in the office were empty; in fact, they weren’t even put together, flatly stacked one on top of another, about six total. Travis didn’t give much thought to why he was picking up the boxes as he did so and headed outside. He was too busy feeling relieved. Obviously, there would be no begging for his job today; an excellent thing, since Travis didn’t think he was capable of doing such a thing, anyway. Not, at least, where Mr. Gordon was concerned.

Something about the man provoked an uncontrollable urge to be as annoying and sarcastic as possible. It was usually a comfortable feeling for Travis to have, but as he went in search of his employer with his boxes, he also felt a little nervous on this particular morning.

The one thing that could be considered nice about Mr. Gordon, was that he was predictable. Travis liked it that way. But today seemed different. He hadn’t cussed at Travis once, or so much as mentioned the disaster surrounding the fight that Travis had royally fucked up. Add to that, that Travis had been spending more time than expected with Mr. Gordon’s youngest son--who didn’t seem to like his father in the least--and Travis felt that there was plenty to be overwhelmed about.

“This way, Travis,” he heard John Gordon call, much like a frustrated parent beckoning a four-year-old who couldn’t quite keep up.

Turning rapidly, Travis found Mr. Gordon waiting at the back of a new jeep, one of the cars he frequently took from the dealership. He had the back opened up, and obviously, expected to drop the boxes inside. Travis did exactly that, and then looked at Mr. Gordon. “Using those to assemble your new home?” he remarked. “I hear cardboard’s popular amongst the recently divorced around springtime.”

“Get in the car,” was Mr. Gordon’s only response.

Travis’s brow arched at that. “Why?”

“Because you’ve just become my bitch, that’s why,” Mr. Gordon suddenly snapped, walking to the driver’s side of the car, and leaving Travis to circle around the passenger side, attempting to keep up.

“Are you sure about that?” Travis remarked. “Because I really don’t make such a good bitch. Tend to get bitchy.” He grinned at Mr. Gordon as he buckled up. “Personally, I think you’re too old to handle me.”

“This isn’t a joke, boy. I own your ass and you’re gonna pay me back for your fuck-up, one way or another. Don’t even expect to get your next paycheck until you do, and now that you’re feeling better--and you better have had a foot in the grave to ignore all my calls--you’ll be working your idiotic ass off for me until I say otherwise, got it? You come to work when I tell you, you...”

“You better not tell me to come in tomorrow, then,” Travis said calmly. “I’m taking the day off. Fair warning... now go ahead...”

“And you’re making shit up to me,” Mr. Gordon snapped. “I don’t know when, I’ll have to figure out something that you can’t fuck up first--but you’re doing it.”

“Ohmygod,” Travis said blandly, “you’re a terrible driver.” They’d just swerved through the parking lot and ended up on the main road. “And I left my bag back there. I think we’re gonna have to turn around.”

“I’m sure you can get along without your tampons and whatnot for a few hours, you pussy. Now shut up so I can drive.”

A few hours?

“A few hours?” Travis demanded, deciding that his thoughts were worth putting into words. “Where are we going? And, you do know that was a red light back there, right?”

John Gordon huffed, and suddenly turned on the radio, turning the speakers up. Travis rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. The old man was definitely not in the best mood. But, in retrospect, Travis decided that Mr. Gordon was starting to sound more like himself, even if he did look a little more dressed up than usual. And Mr. Gordon as himself; that was something simple for Travis to deal with. It made it easy to forget about that you’re-my-new-bitch bullshit still ringing in his ears.

Sighing, Travis decided to let the music occupy his ears for a while instead. He didn’t think it was particularly good music, but the sound was better than no sound at all. Even so, Travis was the one who reached to turn it off when they suddenly turned onto a winding road that was familiar enough to get his attention.

“Where are we going?” Travis asked again.

“Something look familiar to you?” Mr. Gordon remarked. “I know you’ve been hanging around one of my boys, ever since I saw you talking to him. Did you put him up to visiting me at the dealership? Tell the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Travis looked out the window, only to take the time to wonder why they were so close to the Chesleys’, and why Mr. Gordon would be bringing up Dennis to him.

“No you wouldn’t,” Travis finally replied. “But no, I didn’t tell him to do anything like that. No reason to.”

“Then what have you been doing with him?” Mr. Gordon wanted to know.

“Probably not as much as I’d like to.”

“What?”

“Look, Mr. Gordon, the thing is... well, it’s none of your business. And I can’t talk to you about Dennis anyway. He doesn’t like you.”

John Gordon was silent for a moment, and then snorted. “No. He doesn’t.”

Travis looked sidelong at the older man, and for a moment, felt like bombarding him with questions regarding why that was, but then held back. He felt oddly protective over the matter. Whether he’d admit it or not, Dennis wouldn’t like it, and that carried at least some importance for Travis. Besides, when they passed the Chesley residence the topic was easier to put aside, and a relief that it obviously wasn’t their destination.

Not so much, though, when they pulled up in front of a house not so far away, and Travis got a good look at the name on the mailbox. He was quickly shaking his head at Mr. Gordon not long after, rightly wondering if the man had lost his mind. “This is your wife’s house.”

“Not yet it isn’t,” Mr. Gordon stated.

“She has a restraining order against you,” Travis pointed out. Maybe he didn’t let a lot bother him day-to-day, but even Travis Beltnick drew the line at getting arrested.

“It didn’t hold up,” Mr. Gordon replied, obviously unconcerned as he parked the jeep and killed the engine. He reached for a paper folded above the driver’s side visor. “She’s been ordered to give me everything on this list. We’re gonna get it.”

Travis pulled the typed-up list out of Mr. Gordon’s hands and took a quick look before his boss snatched it back. What he did see, seemed simple enough: a few items of jewelry, some clothes, and other personal belongings that Mr. Gordon obviously wanted back.

“Is she home?” Travis asked.

“She’s not supposed to be,” Mr. Gordon replied, “but she is. You just stick with me. Make sure no trouble comes up.”

Travis had the nerve to look amused. “You picked me for that job?”

“Just get the boxes,” Mr. Gordon ordered.

Travis let out a breath and did what he was told. There seemed to be no reason not to, since Mr. Gordon was already out of the vehicle and heading to the door, where Travis met him with the boxes just in time to watch the older man try a key in the lock, which didn’t work.

“Bitch changed the locks again,” he muttered.

“Of course,” Travis remarked. “She probably wouldn’t want you walking in on her and her new boyfriend.”

“Shut your mouth,” Mr. Gordon snapped, and then proceeded to pound the front door with his fist.

“I think she knows we’re here now,” Travis said loudly over the noise. And incidentally, he was right, because a moment later the door was swung open and they were confronted with a stern-looking woman who only had to smile to change her entire appearance. She didn’t smile, of course. She remained round, and short but overbearing enough to make a forceful presence, and that glare... well, there was something to be said for it, since Dennis Gordon was capable of the same exact one, but currently, Travis was glad to see it pointed at John Gordon and not himself. John didn’t seem to mind, either, because he returned it with the passion only a man who had feelings for this cold woman could pull off, and just like that, Travis became trapped in a very strange and awkward moment.

“Let us in so we can get out of here, Beth,” Mr. Gordon stated. “I’ll ask the police to come if I have to.”

“You look like crap,” was Mrs. Gordon’s only response.

“You really think so?” Travis asked, giving Mr. Gordon a once-over. “I mean, he shaved and everything. Did you do that for her, Mr. Gordon?” He lowered his voice then, leaning towards Mr. Gordon as he used a conspiratorial tone that Mrs. Gordon was likely to hear. “Between you and me, I don’t think it was worth it. And you’re right, she probably put on all that extra weight eating Hansel and Gretel for dinner.”

Mrs. Gordon’s eyes widened on Travis, and then her estranged husband, while Mr. Gordon pulled off looking pleased and annoyed all at once. Travis often had that effect on him, though he was hardly about to admit it.

“Who the hell are you?” Mrs. Gordon demanded of Travis.

“He’s here to help me get what’s mine,” John informed her, “and no concern of yours. Now move out of my way.”

John Gordon practically pushed himself into the house, while Mrs. Gordon stuttered protests that fell on deaf ears as Travis followed, until finally she looked up a shiny staircase and shouted, “Lyle! Lyle!”

“I guess that means she hasn’t cut him off her tit yet,” John remarked to Travis as he made a great show of ignoring his wife. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.”

“I want to see everything you take out of this house, John!” Beth shouted after them.

She sounded a lot like her husband, and Travis was beginning to understand why Dennis Gordon didn’t want to go home; it was one thing dealing with John Gordon in the dealership, but here, combined with the presence of his wife in a house that seemed both sterile and cramped despite its large size, Travis didn’t want to be there either. He didn’t like the yelling.

“Let’s make this fast,” Travis said seriously, surprising himself.

They headed up the stairs, Mr. Gordon leading the way through the first door where he stopped and looked over a girlishly decorated bedroom that obviously seemed out of place to him. This was a bad thing, Travis realized, as Mr. Gordon’s demeanor went from confident to furious as he spun back around to shout out the door. “Beth! What the hell did you do to my office?”

“Where’s Dennis’s room?” Travis asked, changing the subject.

Mr. Gordon frowned at him. “Excuse me?”

Travis shrugged. “You’re busy, and I’m bored. Is it up here?”

“Dennis doesn’t have a room in this house,” Mr. Gordon snapped. “Now shut up and get those boxes ready.”

Travis skeptically looked over the room they were in. “What are we packing first? The Tinkerbell lamp or fluffy pillows?”

Mr. Gordon growled. “Beth!” he shouted again, this time leaving the room.

Travis sighed as he listened to Mr. Gordon stomp through the house, and decided that the best way to escape the uncomfortable situation of being in the Gordon residence, was to simply go along with things until John was satisfied enough to leave.

Listening to the voices downstairs grow louder and too combined to understand, Travis took the boxes out into the hall, and one by one began to put them together until they seemed sturdy enough to support whatever Mr. Gordon would want to put in them. Travis wished that he could start without him, as impatient as he was feeling. But, Mr. Gordon returned soon enough, and he wasn’t alone.

Travis straightened as he tilted his head to better see the sandy-haired young man who was following Mr. Gordon around like a shadow. He seemed big; not very muscular, put probably pretty strong. Bullish--and that included his permanently flared nostrils and the obvious displeasure he seemed to find in everything he looked at. This, was not a nice person, and instinct more than first impressions told Travis that. He also realized that the man he was about to meet was probably the older brother that Dennis didn’t care for any more than his parents.

“Who’s that?” Lyle asked his father, as if Travis wasn’t actually standing right in front of him.

Travis looked at Mr. Gordon. “Did you find us a babysitter?”

“Shut up, Travis,” John replied. “Grab the boxes.” He passed Travis in the hall, so quickly that Travis was forced to step back, and then do the same thing all over when Lyle brushed past him, too.

“Yeah,” Lyle remarked. “Get the boxes.”

Travis frowned as he picked up two of the cardboard carriers. “Hey.”

Lyle turned suddenly, not seeming to like that Travis was talking to him at all. “Something I can do for you?”

Travis tossed both boxes he had at him. “I’m not your packhorse,” he informed Lyle Gordon, lifting three more boxes, and leaving three in the hall as he followed after Mr. Gordon, only pausing once when he heard Lyle’s voice behind him.

“Nope. You’re just another faggot.”

Travis glanced over his shoulder, realized that he was supposed to be insulted, and then rolled his eyes. No, he didn’t like Lyle Gordon at all. In fact, he spent the next twenty minutes deflecting Lyle’s glares and crude remarks with his own mix of irritating nonchalance and arrogant smirks; this bothered Lyle more than anything, since he seemed to be looking for a fight and Travis refused to provide it.

As for John Gordon, he seemed more interested in packing up his personal belongings--and sneaking a few things that weren’t on the list when Lyle wasn’t looking--than paying attention to the ill-matched young men following him from room to room. Though, he did almost smile when Travis got tired of being called a pussy, cocksucker, and a list of other colorful terms and looked Lyle up and down, finally asking if he was trying to overcompensate for something. Lyle seemed more aggravated by his father’s amusement than Travis’s comment. But then, Lyle and his father hadn’t always been on opposite sides, and it was obviously going to take some more getting used to.

Lyle Gordon didn’t always find it easy to sort out his opinions. Most of the time it was simply easier to offend someone than to deal with the issue, so since his father had moved out, Lyle had shown his own frustration by making fun of the old man’s new job and pointing out how John had left his family for nothing every time he got the chance. In some ways for Lyle, it had seemed strange because during the few times his parents had shown signs of splitting up when he was a boy, he’d always assumed that he’d take his father’s side.

There’d been a time when John Gordon’s face lit up when his eldest son walked into a room, and it hadn’t gotten past Lyle, who had decided that he was God’s gift some time ago. Growing up, his father had been more like a friend than an actual parent, and that had always aggravated his mother. But then, it was Lyle’s mother who’d stuck by him when John stopped being Lyle’s friend and started telling him to grow up.

And this, Lyle was convinced, was all Dennis’s fault.

His little brother had never really had what it took to uphold the Gordon name. Lyle couldn’t give that something an exact word, but he was damned sure that Dennis didn’t have it. He fell short in everything--football, the friends he kept, everything that Lyle considered important. The only time Dennis had seemed halfway decent to him was for a few short years before Lyle went away to college and Dennis tagged along everywhere he could with his older brother and his friends. Lyle had always believed that their father had shared this opinion, but when he’d been away at school, something had changed.

One day his parents were bitching to him over the phone that Dennis was pussying out of his sports and becoming a disappointment in every sense of the word, and the next they were explaining that his little brother had decided to leave the house to live with a fag-loving family of freaks. They’d cut Dennis off, which was to be expected. What wasn’t expected, was when Lyle came home after failing miserably at college and he found that he was no longer his father’s favorite.

Things hadn’t been bad at first; Lyle worked at the dealership, reclaimed his own room, and hooked up with a few old friends from high school. His mother did just about anything for him now that the one son she acknowledged was back. But, soon, his father was jumping on him for just about everything. Going out, taking a few days off work. Having a life. And then one day, John Gordon had said those fateful words to his oldest son that managed to send his family into chaos: You’re a grown fucking man! What’s the matter with you? Get out there and make something of yourself. Your brother’s out there on his own, and you’re not half of what he is.

 

Lyle’s mother had been furious. She’d always felt abandoned by Dennis, who had obviously disagreed that she’d always done right by him. The Gordon parents started fighting about that until their bickering became more about each other than their kids, and then one day Mr. Gordon packed a bag and left. He’d come back a week later to changed locks. Lyle’s mom started dating some pussy old man that he didn’t care about one way or another, and his father had told him that he couldn’t work at the dealership anymore, until he learned responsibility, or some nonsense like that. And Lyle blamed his brother for all of it. In fact, his mother’s suspicions that Dennis had reunited with his father made perfect sense to Lyle. Dennis must be the one telling John Gordon to hold out in the divorce proceedings. Maybe his brother was a pussy, but he’d never been an idiot. It seemed entirely believable that Dennis was taking whatever revenge he felt was necessary on his family by helping to split up his parents. The little prick. Lyle didn’t know exactly what he was up to, but he was sure that as soon as he figured it out, he’d be kicking Dennis’s ass for it.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Lyle suddenly demanded as he snapped out of his thoughts. They’d made it to the master bedroom, and he crossed to where his father was opening a small but effective safe that his parents kept in the closet. “There’s nothing you need in there.”

Travis raised an eyebrow at this, and willed himself not to think of the flashing red and blue lights he fully expected to be arriving soon. “Mr. Gordon...” he said carefully.

“Both of you just shut up,” Mr. Gordon insisted. “I’m taking what’s mine.”

“Mom’s gonna throw a fit,” Lyle commented, and I won’t let you leave if...”

“Your mother’s not gonna notice a damn difference,” John Gordon responded, and while Lyle obviously didn’t understand, Travis came to the quick conclusion that Mr. Gordon was probably after something that his wife didn’t know anything about. She would, though, if Lyle decided to open his mouth about it.

Travis just wanted this morning to be over, and suddenly found himself looking at Lyle, wondering if it would make things better to knock Mr. Gordon’s eldest son on his ass. Maybe not, but it would have made Travis feel better. “Are we done yet?” Travis asked.

“Start taking the boxes out,” Mr. Gordon told him.

Gladly, Travis thought. He stacked two together and lifted them both, ready to head to the door. He nearly dropped them, though, when Lyle suddenly came at him.

“No fucking way,” Lyle snapped. “You’re not going anywhere with anything.”

Travis prepared himself for an assault, quickly deciding that if anyone was getting hurt it would be Lyle Gordon; he was still sore enough from his last fight. But, that was before Mr. Gordon interrupted to call Lyle off.

“Just shut up and get over here, Lyle,” John Gordon stated, and to Travis’s surprise, Lyle listened.

Reestablishing his hold on the boxes, Travis couldn’t help pausing at the door to watch Mr. Gordon tuck two files from the safe into one of his boxes, obviously ignoring the cash stacked within it. Most of it, anyway. The older man lifted a thin stack of bills that had value nonetheless and handed them over to Lyle, and just like that, the two of them had an obvious understanding. Travis shook his head. Obviously, loyalty as he knew it had a different kind of meaning in this family, and Dennis was right--he was better off without any of them. Travis thought he might tell him so, the next time they met.

***

Whenever Travis spotted a moving van, or even a small U-haul--which happened to be the case today--outside of his apartment complex, he tended to get a little curious. He liked to know who his neighbors were when they changed. Especially the ones who were going to be living in such close proximity to his door; or, behind his door, he realized as he watched the back of the trailer only to see Aiden appear, juggling two stacked boxes, one of which was about to end up on the ground.

Travis dropped his backpack to aid him, surprised by the weight of the box that fell into his arms, which seemed heavier than all the boxes he’d moved earlier in the day combined. “Shit. What the hell do you have in here?”

“Books,” Aiden replied, obviously surprised to see him.

“And I’m guessing we’re going inside with these?”

“Um... Ryan said you wouldn’t care. I was going to talk to you about it first, but the storage place where I was keeping my stuff said they’d let me out of my month-to-month early, and...”

“You’re moving in, then?” Travis asked, wasting no time in heading to the door. The corner of the box was uncomfortably pinching his ribs and relieving himself from it was suddenly on his list of priorities.

“Into Ryan’s room,” Aiden confirmed as they entered the apartment, and Travis dropped the box on the sofa--not the futon, but an actual sofa. There were also two chairs, an actual kitchen table which had replaced their card table, and their television had made it off its small stand into a small but actual entertainment center.

“Not just into Ryan’s room,” Travis remarked.

“Yeah... I sort of bought all this stuff after I moved out of the Dovans’ house. I figured I’d want it when I moved into my own place, but then I went out of town, and... do you mind?”

“Nope,” Travis said honestly as he took the box Aiden was still carrying and stacked it with the others that had made their way into the living room. “So is Ryan around here somewhere helping you, or did he decide moving wasn’t on his schedule?”

“He’s taking the furniture you guys had here to his cousin’s place. He said he’d hold onto it... you really don’t mind?”

“Nope, so long as you’re willing to leave the bathroom door unlocked every once in a while when you take a shower, walk around naked... stuff like that.” He patted Aiden’s shoulder as he passed him on his way back to the door. “Come on. Let’s get you moved in.”

Aiden watched after Travis for a moment, and finally shook his head as a thin sign of a smile curled his mouth and he followed, catching up to Travis in the back of the trailer. “For the record, I only lock the bathroom door when you’re around because I know it annoys you.”

Travis looked over the remaining boxes and stacks of framed pictures in the trailer, but took the time to face Aiden with a raised brow. “Really? ‘Cause I figured it was because you still had some common sense left.”

“Maybe because of that, too.”

Travis grinned. “But I’m wearing you down, huh?” he said proudly.

Aiden rolled his eyes as he moved farther back into the trailer and lifted the two suitcases filled with summer clothing. When he turned back, Travis was still watching him with amusement and interest. “I wouldn’t say that,” Aiden remarked. “I won’t be walking around naked anytime soon. But, you can try persuading me all you want if it makes you feel better.”

Travis’s eyes widened at that, and when Aiden started to pass, Travis shot his hand out to the trailer wall, blocking his path with an arm. “Was that a challenge, or an invitation?” he wanted to know.

Aiden dropped the suitcases to cross his arms, though his posture wasn’t entirely defensive, even finding himself suddenly trapped in the back of a trailer with a guy who regarded him as if he expected Aiden’s pants to magically fall down at any moment. “I haven’t decided yet,” Aiden replied.

Travis cocked his head, studying him for a moment, and then suddenly smirked to himself more than at Aiden. “You know... I’ve had a really weird day... weird week--let’s go with that. And since it suddenly feels even stranger, maybe you could explain something to me?”

Aiden looked suspicious. “Like what?”

“Like... what you’re doing. I mean, lately you haven’t exactly wanted anything to do with me, but now I’m getting a big, green light from you. What’s the change of heart about? Or is this a game? I don’t mind games, but you should warn me first, because the last thing I need is you freaking out if I act on the signals I’m definitely picking up.”

And wasn’t that the truth. In fact, Travis felt rather strongly about not wanting to cause trouble, something that would never have occurred to him under normal circumstances. He credited it to his last encounter with Dennis Gordon, which had definitely confused him in ways that he didn’t like being confused. For just a moment, the night before, Travis had been completely sure of what he’d been doing when he’d kissed the guy. And, he was still sure that Dennis didn’t entirely mind it. What he didn’t understand was what had gone wrong. He’d been enjoying the time he’d spent with Dennis, and he was perturbed that now he couldn’t stop wondering if the guy was going to make a point to avoid him now, or outright hate him. Travis knew it would be one of those things. Between Dennis’s shaky reaction to his advance and meeting the Gordons, Travis was afraid that he was dealing with someone who invested a little more than just fear when it came to intimacy with another guy. Because of that, Travis’s instincts told him to run in the opposite direction, but instead he was standing there with Aiden, wondering when the guy he’d been waiting to see come around would blow him off so he could call Dennis and act like the night before hadn’t happened.

“I don’t mind games, either,” Aiden finally said, seeming to choose his words carefully. “But I think the real thing’s better.”

Travis thought that over, measured the look Aiden was giving him along with the blush forming over his olive complexion, and finally laughed. “I think you’ve been hanging out with me way too much.”

“Or, maybe I’m just starting to figure out what I want.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” Again, not a question Travis liked to think he’d normally ask. Dennis-imposed? If so, he was annoyed to think that encounter had completely screwed him up.

Travis feelings were mixed between relief and chagrin when Aiden didn’t get a chance to answer, or rather, wouldn’t answer when they were suddenly interrupted as Ryan appeared outside and looked over what remained to be unloaded from the trailer, discouraged.

“We’re not done yet?” Ryan asked, and then looked at Travis with a somewhat brighter expression. “Our apartment has furniture in it.”

“I noticed,” Travis replied.

“You’re gonna stick around long enough to help us unload the rest of this, right?”

Travis shrugged, passing the two suitcases Aiden had originally lifted to Ryan. “I’m not busy until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Aiden repeated mischievously. “That leaves a lot of time open, doesn’t it?”

Travis smiled at him. “More than enough.”

Between the three of them, they moved Aiden in quickly enough. Travis even helped with the unpacking. Not the most exciting way to spend the afternoon, but he didn’t mind it, especially since Aiden living there meant his rent would go down, and he wouldn’t even have to give up his room. And, it seemed that Aiden moving in might come with some other benefits that were worth considering.

Travis couldn’t say exactly what had changed in his attractive new roommate over the last few days, but it was something that he liked. Aiden liked to flirt. Travis guessed that Aiden liked it almost as much as he did, and more than once he was tempted to more intimately introduce Aiden to any number of the new furniture additions. He might have if Ryan wasn’t around every corner. Instead, he was forced to learn more mentally about Aiden than the physical he’d hoped for. It wasn’t a complete waste of time, Travis supposed, since he wasn’t entirely uninterested when it came to learning that Aiden had moved in with the Dovans mostly because his mom was a drunk and couldn’t take care of him, or that he’d moved out when he and Owen broke up.

It had all sounded like an inconvenience to Travis. He couldn’t imagine being trapped in a house that long, with a boyfriend. He would have chosen the drunk mom instead. Joe was a drunk, and he wasn’t so bad. The only time Aiden looked truly frustrated with Travis all day was when Travis tried to explain these opinions aloud, and Aiden’s only response had been,I wasn’t trapped.

By the time the sun started to set Aiden was returning the U-haul, and Ryan was getting ready for a date, complaining about how he couldn’t go out on the weekends like normal people because of his work schedule.

“You think it’s gonna end with sex?” Travis had asked him.

Ryan shrugged. “Most likely.”

“Then what do you have to complain about?”

“Who’s complaining about what?” Kyle asked. He’d just let himself into the apartment, something no one ever minded when the door wasn’t locked.

“Ryan’s having sex, I’m not, and he thinks that he’s the one with the bad end of things,” Travis explained from the kitchen, where he was currently stirring crushed headache medicine into his water.

“Actually, we weren’t even talking about sex,” Ryan said. “Travis just likes to think so. I was saying that it’s nicer to go out on weekends.”

“With a date,” Travis added helpfully.

“Yeah, with a date,” Ryan said. “More stuff to do on weekends.”

“But again,” Travis said, “if it ends with sex, what’s the difference?”

“Whoa,” Kyle remarked as he closed the door and looked over the furnished apartment. “What happened in here?”

“Hey! We have candles,” Ryan said from the living room, where he was pushing tall forms of wax back an inch each on the bookshelf. “Travis, did you see this? Candles.”

“Maybe you can light them while you’re having sex with your Tuesday night date,” Travis said, and then looked at Kyle to explain, “Aiden moved in.”

Kyle nodded. “Oh.”

“Who puts candles in their living room?” Ryan asked thoughtfully, and then, “my mom. That’s the kind of people who have candles... people like moms.”

“I have candles,” Kyle said.

Ryan looked at him. “Well... that’s nice. I’m gonna go change my pants.”

Kyle watched Ryan disappear down the hall, and then abruptly turned to face Travis. “Can we talk?”

Travis nodded his head as he gulped down his water, waving Kyle towards the kitchen, but when Kyle opened his mouth to talk, Travis lifted a hand, signaling that he wasn’t ready just yet. Kyle waited patiently, watching as Travis finished off his beverage, placed the glass on the counter, and caught his breath.

Travis moved his hand through his hair, pressing the dark strands back enough to bring his newest bruises into light for a fleeting moment, and regarded Kyle seriously. “Look, I don’t wanna fight with you, alright? I know I was an ass yesterday, but you caught me at a bad time, and I’ve been stressed about some stuff, and... and, none of it’s an excuse, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Kyle replied.

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Just... okay?” Somehow, this seemed a little too easy to him.

“Yeah,” Kyle insisted. “I mean, it’s clear you’ve been stressed, you know? I was just wondering if it had anything to do with your birthday being tomorrow.”

Travis crossed his arms, leaned a hip against the counter, and frowned suspiciously. “Who told you it was my birthday?”

“Lacy saw it on your application at work,” Kyle replied. “I’m sure everyone knows by now, but why didn’t you ever mention it to me?”

Travis shrugged like it was nothing, but walked away from the kitchen as if he was suddenly struggling with the need to escape and annoyed that Kyle was following him. But, Kyle still followed him all the way to his room.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday,” Travis finally said as he opened his closet, busying his hands by straightening empty hangers. “Didn’t see a point in mentioning it.”

Kyle frowned at an opened suitcase, looking half-packed on the bed, but instead of asking about it, chose to stick with the topic at hand. “But it’s your birthday... one of those little things your friends are supposed to know about you. Why wouldn’t you even mention it? I mean, I’m not mad or anything... just curious. Does this have anything to do with what happened to you when you were young?”

At that, Travis spun around to face his friend. “What?” he demanded.

“I know you had it rough,” Kyle explained. “Does your birthday bring some of that stuff up for you?”

Travis felt his mouth go dry, and did his best not to feel as intensely attacked as he suddenly did. Reasonably, he knew it wasn’t Kyle’s fault. Kyle didn’t know enough about him to know not to ask such a careless question. And now, of all times, Travis thought as he stared at the circled date on the calendar hanging from the half-closed door behind Kyle. “I just don’t like my birthday,” he finally said. “Drop it at that.”

“Travis...”

“Kyle. You know that bad mood I was in? I’m seriously close to revisiting it, and this time you’ve been warned.”

Kyle raised his hands defensively. “Don’t get angry. I just wanted you to know that if you ever feel like talking about it, I’m here. You get frustrating, Travis. Sometimes it feels like I’m going out of my way trying to be your friend and you don’t even want it.”

Travis felt even more defensive now, and maybe even a little offended. He hadn’t exactly forgotten his conversation with Joe, and while Kyle knew nothing about it, it almost sounded like he was telling Travis that Joe was right. He was already pushing away the few people he cared about. Travis did care about Kyle. Kyle was one of the first real friends Travis had made for a long while, and Travis was confident that if Kyle was ever in any trouble, then Kyle could count on him. But that didn’t mean that Travis wanted Kyle to know everything. Travis didn’t even want to know everything, so sometimes when it came to the people he was around the most, it was easier when they didn’t know. It was easier to pretend some of the nightmares didn’t exist.

“My birthday’s hard for me. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Travis demanded.

“No, Travis, that’s not what I meant. Look, I just wanted to let you know you can talk to me if you want. No pressure. I think I’ve figured out by now that you’re not gonna talk about anything serious unless you want to.”

“Okay,” Travis said slowly. “Then... thanks. I appreciate the offer, even if you don’t believe me. Are we done now?”

“No, we’re not done,” Kyle said irritably. “I didn’t come over to piss you off and get thrown out... and where the hell are you going?” he asked, finally turning his attention back to the opened suitcase on the bed. “I thought Aiden moved in... no one said you were moving out.”

“I’m not,” Travis assured him, though the idea of moving as far away as possible was becoming more appealing by the moment. “I’m actually heading out of town for tomorrow to avoid my birthday.”

Kyle frowned, suspicious. “You mean the birthday no one knew about in the first place? What’s there to avoid?”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Travis said smartly. “Look, there’s this thing I do every year, okay? I like to do it alone, so...”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to invite myself along. But, if this is something you do every year for your birthday, then I kinda get the idea that you’re not avoiding anything. If your birthday’s not a big deal, but you’re going out of town to do something you do every year, then what’s so special about tomorrow?”

Travis’s brow creased as he felt with another wave of overwhelming frustration. He was not going to yell. That would be like losing his temper, and while that had seemed rather short lately, he wasn’t interested in owing Kyle any more apologies. “Look, there are certain things I don’t like to share. I don’t know what you want from me.”

Kyle studied Travis for a long moment, obviously trying to determine something, though, what exactly he was looking for seemed unclear. He sighed. “Just tell me you’re not in trouble, Travis.”

“What? Haven’t I already told you no? What’s with you lately? Can’t you just...”

“Leave you alone?” Kyle finished for him. “I don’t know. I can do that. I just don’t want to.” Kyle paused to move closer, mostly because Travis was avoiding his eyes, leaving Kyle with the impression that folding his socks was more interesting than what he had to say. “Look, I don’t get involved in your business because I know you like it that way. I don’t tell you what to do, and I don’t ask questions that I know you won’t want to answer.”

“No,” Travis corrected, without looking up as he added to his suitcase. “You don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answers to.”

“Well now I’m worried, and a little fucking clarity would be nice. You’ve been avoiding me lately, and then I find you walking around with all that money--now you’re leaving town. I just wanna know what the hell’s going on with you. Are we friends, Travis? Because friends are honest with...”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Travis finally burst out, rounding on Kyle. “I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been busy Kyle. And as far as friends go, friends generally act like friends, not suspicious, unhappy wives! It’s none of your business what I do with my money, but for the record, it was to pay bills--I do that, Kyle, just like everyone else does. And like I said, I’m leaving town because that’s what I do on my birthday. I leave. I leave, and I’ll be honest here, two years ago, there would have been a chance that I wouldn’t come back. Last year, I wouldn’t have come back because that’s what I do--I leave, because I like to convince myself I’ll walk into something better than what I have. Right now, I believe I could find something better than I already have, but I’m not going to go looking for it because right now I can’t. But I am going to take my trip. I’m leaving for that, because I need to leave for that. I’m sorry if you think there’s something wrong with me not wanting to celebrate my birthday, but it sort of lost its appeal when I turned ten and my brother decided to shoot and kill the man who’d been beating the shit out of us! And it’s my birthday, anyway! I should be able to do whatever the fuck I want with it. So is that enough honesty for you?” Travis finished his tirade, feeling like he needed to catch his breath. He was glaring at Kyle, unable to understand why he was the one who suddenly looked so put off. The shock on his friend’s face only made Travis want to yell some more, but not as much as what he saw behind Kyledid.

Narrowing his eyes, Travis took in the three faces standing on the other side of his bedroom door, which had been pushed open. All three looked blank, startled, and obnoxiously focused on him. “Great,” Travis remarked. “Fucking wonderful. Will somebody please explainwhat the hell it is you people want from me?!”

***

Dennis tightened his grip on his steering wheel, and then loosened it once again. He cracked his window when the glare from the sunlight coming through his window became too hot on his face, and then rolled it up again when the breeze felt a little too cold on his neck. And he circled the block for the fifth time. Or at least, what felt like the fifth time.

He felt lightheaded; maybe a little nauseous. There was an intense sensation piercing his gut, more ticklish than painful, but still aggravating. Butterflies. Nerves. Either way, the sensation was unpleasant, and he would have done anything to rid himself from it. But then, he’d become resigned to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen, seeing as how he’d woken up with it that morning, and it had only become worse during his visit with Owen Dovan. That was annoying, too, since Dennis had only called Owen because he’d thought it would distract him enough to make the feeling disappear for a while.

Dennis liked being in the Dovans’ garage. He liked the sound of the saws, and the drills, and the scent of wood being cut. He liked keeping his hands busy, and the feel of sandpaper under his fingers as he watched the rough spots on the wood disappear; and he liked building chairs because there was something comforting in knowing that he was building something he could sit on when he wanted to take a break, and usually... usually, he liked listening to Owen’s endless chatter. There was so much comedy to be found in the blond’s ramblings, and maybe something that made Dennis feel a little prideful, too, when Owen talked about things that were personal to him--things he trusted Dennis enough to share with him. Most of the time, Dennis couldn’t find much he wouldn’t like about a slow day passing with Owen’s voice in his ears... but that hadn’t been the case today.

At first Owen had been talking about the same thing he always talked about: his long-winded speech about how much he was trying not to miss Aiden; his neighbors stealing their newspaper (which they never ordered but got anyway); his brothers; what he was working on at the club; and then, “You see Travis a lot, right?”

“What?” Dennis looked up suddenly, cutting a little too far into a piece of wood in the process. “Why would you say that?”

“I just figured you did,” Owen said, shrugging. He was sanding down the chair leg Dennis had just completed, and Dennis frowned as he decided Owen was doing too much sanding. He passed the blond another one, fearing that if he didn’t there wouldn’t be anything left of the one his hands were on.

“I see him sometimes,” Dennis said, and then regarded Owen with a mix of curiosity and suspicion--not that Owen bothered to notice. “Why?”

“You should bring him over here sometime,” Owen suggested.

“Why would I do that?”

“So we can hang out, is all.”

Dennis seemed to consider this, and whether or not Owen was trying to get at something else, and then finally, shook his head. “This would never hold his attention.” Besides, Dennis thought, hanging around the Dovans’ garage with his one friend was one of the few things he’d had to look forward to lately, and he wasn’t interested in sharing.

“Did you know Travis’s birthday’s tomorrow?” Owen asked.

Once again, Dennis looked up. “He told you that?”

“Nope. Chris found out... I don’t think Travis even told anyone. But I guess given his past, he wouldn’t want to, anyway. He’s probably not going to like that Kyle’s probably planning something for him.”

“What do you mean?” Dennis asked.

“Chris thinks Kyle might be planning something, said I should keep my schedule for...”

“I mean about his past,” Dennis said carefully. “What did your brother tell you?” Dennis had been slowly piecing together his own conclusions about Travis Beltnick, even more since the previous night, which Dennis hadn’t yet decided if he should just forget. In part, he hoped that Travis would forget more than anything; the guy wasn’t exactly known for being tightlipped--apparently, in more ways than one. Dennis had felt on edge since he’d left the Chesleys the night before.

“Chris told me some stuff I have in common with him, is all. I guess that we have in common with him,” Owen explained. “I think he should come hang out sometime.” Owen rotated the chair leg he was working on, and for a moment, Dennis didn’t think he’d say anymore. But, a moment later Owen was explaining everything his brother had heard about Travis Beltnick, speculating all over the place about what may not have happened to the guy growing up.

Dennis was no more comfortable with this line of conversation than he was with talking about Travis Beltnick. Listening to Owen mention certain things in regard to Travis Beltnick didn’t make any of it easier to handle. Certain topics always made Dennis think of his own situation when it came to the relationship he had with his family, and recent encounters with certain families made it all a little too hard to take. Because of this, Dennis had excused himself before he’d intended to, saying that he remembered something he needed to do at home.

But home, wasn’t where Dennis went.

He would have liked to think that when he started driving, he had no idea where he intended to end up, or that he only meant to clear his head before heading home. But, that wouldn’t have explained why he’d driven in circles so long before he finally parked across the street from an apartment complex that he was sure he shouldn’t be at.

And he was being very stupid, Dennis decided as he left his car. Calling would have been easier. But then, he also knew that if he’d simply called Travis Beltneck, hanging up would be easy, too. If Dennis was willing to be honest with himself for just a moment, he’d find that he wouldn’t want to just hang up.

Bad dreams. Unwanted birthdays. Secrets. He’d known that there was more to Travis than most people could see, because there was more to Travis than Dennis had bothered to see when he’d first encountered him. Good or bad, Dennis had known it was there. Knowing it was there didn’t bother him so much, and maybe some would call it twisted, but that made Dennis feel... comfortable. It was probably the reason why Dennis had resisted the instinct to lash out the way he’d been raised to when Travis had temporarily--obviously--lost his mind long enough to kiss him. At least, that’s what Dennis figured.

What Dennis couldn’t figure out was why he was so bothered now that everyone else seemed to know about what might be considered wrong with Travis. He felt almost defensive over it, and didn’t even know where to begin when it came to explaining it to anyone, least of all Travis. But, he knew it was better not to think about that particular problem, since he was already halfway to the door.

But then, Dennis stopped. Just across the parking lot, Aiden Knightly stopped, too; likely, for the same reason Dennis had. The two stared at each other for a moment, and if fifty other people in the area couldn’t have attested to the fact that it was a bright, beautiful day, each likely would have sworn that a cloud had settled just over the apartment complex.

With his brow feeling heavy above his eyes, Dennis didn’t know who’d looked away first. That’s sort of what they did, he and Aiden. They pretended not to see each other. It usually worked, and it seemed much more appealing than the alternative. This time was a little more complicated, though. Should have been, since they were heading in the same direction. Dennis picked up his pace as they grew closer together, and a sidelong glance told him Aiden had done the same. Irritating.

Still refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead, both Aiden and Dennis passed through the last row of parked cars to end up side by side, where they paused again, this time refraining from so much as looking at one another, and then continued up the sidewalk as if they weren’t sharing the three-foot-wide cement space with anyone. They stopped at the door they each had intended to reach, and Dennis raised his hand to knock at the same time Aiden had reached for the doorknob, but each of them came up short in their actions as Aiden finally released a frustrated breath and turned to face him the same time that Dennis crossed his arms and did the same.

“What do you want?” Aiden asked in the same tone of forced politeness he used whenever they ran into each other at the Chesleys.

“I was going to see if Travis was home,” Dennis explained, but he might as well have said, That’s none of your business.

“Why?” Aiden wanted to know.

Dennis’s eyes narrowed. This time, he was saying, It’s none of your business. “You go in, then I’ll knock,” Dennis suggested, because it happened to be the only thing he could come up with such short notice during a massively uncomfortable moment.

Aiden gave a short nod, reached for the door again, and then stopped, shaking his head as he tried to figure out what was stupider--Dennis’s suggestion, or the way that he nearly went along with it.

“I don’t even know if Travis is home,” Aiden said. “He hardly ever is.”

“Well, we’re not going to find out standing out here,” Dennis pointed out.

Aiden seemed to understand that was true enough, but he still seemed hesitant to open the door, and Dennis soon discovered that it was only because Aiden was no longer thinking about whether or not Travis was home.

“You’ve been around Owen a lot lately,” Aiden commented.

It was all Dennis could do to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to fight. He wasn’t in the mood to argue. Hecertainly wasn’t in the mood to explain himself to Aiden Knightly. But god help him, given the mood he was in, Aiden Knightly happened to seem like the perfect person to take his frustrations out on, physically or otherwise.

And that was very, very bad. Bad, Dennis mentally insisted, turning his attention back to the door. Refusing to engage in further conversation, he lifted his hand and knocked. Aiden rolled his eyes at that, and opened the door. Dennis started to step inside the apartment after him, but when Aiden turned suddenly, Dennis checked himself and regarded Owen’s ex-boyfriend expectantly.

Aiden sighed, and as if it were a terrible inconvenience, waved Dennis inside. “He’s probably here,” Aiden admitted. “He was thirty minutes ago.”

“Thank you,” Dennis ground out as he stepped inside. The sooner he got away from Aiden, the better. And as he took a look around, he wondered if it would be sooner than he thought. “Am I in the right place?”

“I moved in,” Aiden replied as a short explanation. “I like furniture.”

Dennis nodded. “Travis?” he reminded.

Aiden pointed down the hall, but when Dennis looked in that direction, he was tempted to move the other way as he met Ryan Sader’s eyes. It seemed a little too late to convince himself that coming here had been a good idea. At least Ryan had the decency to look as put off as Dennis did.

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked as he looked between Aiden and Dennis.

“He’s here to see Travis,” Aiden said quickly, obviously not comfortable on any level with someone thinking that he was actually with Dennis Gordon. Dennis didn’t hold it against him. He tended to feel the same way.

Ryan frowned at Dennis. “He doesn’t have your dog again. I would’ve noticed.”

“Travis walks your dog for you, too?” Aiden suddenly asked, almost distressed over the idea.

“Too?” Ryan repeated.

Dennis frowned. Too?

“I saw Owen with her,” Aiden stated. “Travis was with him, but I thought...”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Dennis cut him off, becoming impatient, and frankly, damned tired of being what he considered polite. “And, as much as I think my mutt deserves to be the topic of every conversation, could someone tell me if Travis is here or not?”

Ryan frowned. “He’s back here,” he said, suddenly turning back down the hall. It was likely the closest that Dennis was going to get to an invitation to follow, so he did, unsurprised but plenty irritated when Aiden decided to follow, too. It seemed that instead of pointing out Travis’s room, Travis’s roommate’s felt that he required an escort. Two escorts not at all pleased that he was there. But, at least they’d stopped talking to him. Of course, that could have been because another voice coming from the end of the hall had caught everyone’s attention, and happened to be difficult to ignore.

Definitely Travis. But, before Dennis could make out actual words, he found himself hoping that whoever Travis happened to be talking to wasn’t someone else who wanted him to turn around and go away. But then Dennis wanted to turn around and walk away all on his own when Ryan pushed open the cracked door to bring Travis Beltnick and Nicky Davis’s cousin into sight, and he heard, “...sorry if you think there’s something wrong with me not wanting to celebrate my birthday, but it sort of lost its appeal when I turned ten and my brother decided to shoot and kill the man who’d been beating the shit out of us! And it’s my birthday, anyway! I should be able to do whatever the fuck I want with it. So is that enough honestly for you?”

Dennis Gordon hated awkward moments. He preferred to avoid them, and did when he could... but at least he wasn’t experiencing this one all by himself.

Upon hearing Travis’s angry words Aiden had wrapped his arms around himself as he peered into the room with the kind of concerned expression that a seasoned mother of six could hardly pull off; Ryan stared straight ahead, wide-eyed and taken aback; and Kyle, with his back to them, seemed rigid.

Dennis just looked at Travis, not even considering the idea of saying something. After those words... what was there to say? Bad dreams. Unwanted birthday. And something that had just gone from secret to common knowledge in a way that Travis Beltnick obviously wasn’t pleased with as he noticed three new arrivals. Dennis had never seen him look panicked before, or even furious, but it was easy enough to place.

“Great,” Travis suddenly snapped, clearly feeling cornered. “Fucking wonderful.” He looked away, as if to clear his thoughts, but only seemed to find more frustration and chaos as he faced each one of them again. “Will somebody please explainwhat the hell it is you people want from me?!”

“Did you say killed?” Ryan said first. Tact wasn’t always one of his strong points.

“You have a brother?” Kyle asked, and Dennis liked his question much better.

“He was my foster brother,” Travis replied as some of his nonchalant personality resurfaced and he waved it away. “I’ve had six. He’s the one I happen to remember on my birthday.”

“Allan.” This came from Aiden.

Whatever it meant to Travis, it clearly shocked him, and also helped him cross the line between cornered and violated as his unease became even more apparent in his posture.

“You talk in your sleep,” Aiden was quick to explain when he realized that Travis was far from happy with him.

Dennis raised a brow, wondering when Aiden had been close enough to hear Travis talk in his sleep, but then shook the question away as he realized that he no longer wanted to be in that hallway. He didn’t want to be standing so close to Aiden and Ryan, where he could feel it every time Aiden cut his dark eyes in his direction as if to say you don’t belong here. He didn’t like that he could smell Ryan’s cologne; not because the scent was overbearing or unpleasant, but because it came from Ryan. He didn’t like that Nicky’s cousin looked ready to throw a fit that would consume everyone’s nerves, and he really didn’t like feeling like one of the four rabid animals that had Travis cornered in his own room. It felt wrong; maybe not to these people, who Owen called friends--as far as Dennis could tell, they all loved sticking their noses where they didn’t belong when they thought they were helping someone else. Owen did it, too, but Dennis was resigned to believing that Owen doing it was a little less obnoxious than when someone else did. But for Dennis... this wasn’t something he wanted to be a part of. The small hints Travis had given him before regarding his past, those were okay. Those were offered. Dennis didn’t want to be anywhere near an interrogation. Maybe he wasn’t the one on the other side of it at the moment, but he still found himself offended by it.

“I’m gonna go now,” Dennis announced, not really taking into account that there was more going on than his own personal discomfort, but not finding it necessary to just leave quietly, either.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Dennis was a little surprised to hear Travis’s voice addressing him. After all, Travis was busy, and while Dennis knew that Travis had noticed he was there, he didn’t think he was more noticeable than anyone else. What surprised Dennis a lot, was that there was nothing in Travis’s question that suggested he was angry at all. Travis was looking at him with curiosity and interest, plain and simple. Not a single sign of the stress that he was definitely under, and if Dennis didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he’d somehow managed to successfully change the subject on Travis’s behalf.

“Yeah. We were trying to figure that out, too,” Ryan told Travis. “But, what you were saying was a lot more interesting.”

“Ryan,” Aiden scolded, obviously deciding that his friend wasn’t being sensitive enough.

“Travis,” Kyle started, still ignoring their interruption, “I didn’t mean...”

“You know what, Kyle?” Travis cut him off. “We were done talking about five minutes ago.”

“Leaving,” Dennis said again, this time waving a careless hand as he turned to see himself out.

“Wait a second!” Travis called after him. “You didn’t say why you came over,” Travis insisted, interested in the question for more than the sake of ignoring everyone else around him. And everyone else around him, suddenly turned their attention on Dennis, seeming impatient and annoyed.

Dennis frowned, swallowing discretely as he tried not to feel so intimidated by being put on the spot. He tried to focus on just Travis, hoping it would help, but given recent circumstances, it didn’t help at all. “I’ll come back later,” he finally decided.

“How ‘bout I just go with you now?” Travis replied, and Dennis blinked before he shrugged one shoulder to signal that that was up to Travis.

“Forget it,” Kyle finally said, appalled. “You don’t have to go anywhere, Travis. I’m going. That’s what’ll make you happy, right? So right here--me, butting out.”

Travis gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes all at once as Kyle practically plowed over everyone in the hall to head towards the door, which he decidedly slammed on his way out. But, when the door closed, Travis’s mind was quick to get off of Kyle and he looked over the three faces outside of his door, finally settling on Aiden and Ryan with a pointed look that couldn’t have been clearer to either of them. Reluctant but willing, they both decided that there was somewhere else to be, and only then did Travis’s features relax as he waved Dennis into his room. Travis nearly had the door closed behind the two of them when he suddenly paused, ran his hand roughly through his hair, and met Dennis’s eyes. “Look, can you just... wait here for a second? I’ll be right back, I swear. Don’t go anywhere.”

Obviously, Dennis wasn’t expected to answer that one way or another, because before he could, Travis was on the opposite side of the door, moving through the apartment in long strides, and soon after that, facing Kyle’s back in the parking lot.

“Kyle!”

Kyle stopped and turned. Surprise flashed in his eyes; he hadn’t expected Travis to come after him, but he wasn’t exactly willing to be pleased about it, either. “If you’re about to apologize...”

Travis shook his head. “No,” he said calmly. “I’m not.” He held up a hand when Kyle started to open his mouth, and he moved a little closer. “I don’t want you to, either.”

Kyle frowned. “Right now... I feel like I know less about you than I ever have. It bothers me, Travis.”

“I know. But I’d like to think we’re still friends. Okay?... I need you to understand that there are some things about me that are ugly, and the reason I don’t want to explain them to you isn’t because I don’t think you could understand them, it’s because I don’t want you to understand. We’re different, Kyle, and you’re better for it.”

“Don’t pump me full of bullshit, Travis. You’re not giving me enough credit here, I just want to know...”

“I know you do,” Travis said quietly. “But like I said...” Travis stopped there, feeling that he’d said enough. He just wished that Kyle understood. Unfortunately, Kyle’s expression expressed just the opposite. And right then, it was easy for Travis to simply give up. He felt too tired to do anything more than that. He turned to walk away, but didn’t get more than a few steps away.

“Travis,” Kyle called. “We are friends.”

Travis looked over his shoulder. “But?”

Kyle was tempted to say a lot of things just then. Instead, he shrugged. “Maybe when you get back... we can do something for your... un-birthday.”

The corner of Travis’s mouth curled up. “No cake?”

“No cake,” Kyle promised, and then silently headed home. It wasn’t yet three thirty, but suddenly, he felt like checking on his little goldfish, wondering if it happened to be any better off than Travis Beltnick was at the moment.

***

Dennis looked down at his feet, wondering if they planned to move anytime soon, and then at the closed door with the calendar pinned to it, the circled date in front of his face.

Travis Beltnick had issues. But, so did Dennis. The way he suddenly turned, wanting to look busy but not sure how when he heard footsteps coming down the hall was proof of that. It left him a little lost, refusing to be caught staring at the door but knowing that he had no business being busy with anything in Travis’s room.

But it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway, Dennis realized as he took a look around. Because Travis’s room was really pretty plain. It seemed to have more than his own room, but that could have been an illusion because the space was smaller, and there really was nothing to look at apart from the opened suitcase on the bed. It looked like Travis wasn’t planning to be gone for very long. He had a few neatly folded clothing items, and a smaller bag of toiletries. Nothing of interest. Except for the flashlight next to the suitcase. Dennis found himself wondering if Travis was bringing that with him. Moving closer, he wondered what Travis could possibly be up to that he’d need a flashlight. Dennis didn’t know if he really wanted to know. He lifted the item up, flicked it on, then off, and incidentally dropped it in the suitcase when something else inside of the traveling gear caught his attention.

He tilted his head at first to better see what looked like a strip of photos, the kind that were usually provided by booths inside of malls. It was sticking partly out of a pocket in the lid of the luggage, and since a pair of jeans was slightly blocking the images, Dennis decided to pick the strip up. There was a brief moment of just looking as his brain processed the images in the pictures, and when he comprehended what he was actually seeing his brow tightly contracted, either curious, or perhaps a bit troubled.

Dennis jumped when he heard the door opening, and before he could convince himself to do otherwise, he slipped the pictures into his coat pocket before spinning around, just in time to face Travis, who looked tired, and then almost surprised when his eyes fell on Dennis. “You didn’t leave.”

Dennis’s spine straightened as he cleared his throat. “I can only stay for a minute.” It wasn’t necessarily true, but it made a good defense in case the desire to escape struck him, and that didn’t feel so far off as he realized that he and Travis were closed into another room together.

“Alright.” Travis moved towards his suitcase to close it, and in the process, Dennis moved completely around him, placing them as close as possible to being on opposite sides of the bedroom. Travis didn’t seem to mind as he turned to face his guest better. “There’s been some drama.”

Dennis nodded. “Noticed it.”

“Yeah. I thought you might have,” Travis remarked, a hint of a smile appearing on his face before it faded and he looked at Dennis seriously. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you for a while.”

“Yeah. Like I said, I can only stay a few minutes.”

Now, Travis did smile. “I heard you the first time... so, what are you doing here?”

For a moment, Dennis was taken completely off guard by the question, and more so when he realized that he was expected to come up with an answer for it. “I guess... I mean, I was with Owen earlier, and he started talking about your birthday. I don’t know, he said someone might be planning something and I thought you might want to know about it. But, I guess you already do.”

Travis cocked his head, considering this. “So, you were going to warn me?”

“I guess so,” Dennis replied, running a rough hand through his hair. Honestly, he didn’t want to talk about it. No matter what he said he was there for, he had a feeling that it would come out sounding like he was too interested in Travis, and if that wasn’t annoying enough by itself, Travis seemed to have enough people too interested in him for one day. “Listen, I really am gonna just get out of here. Sorry if I came at a bad time. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Travis said, not seeming to mind that he was being left already, but when Dennis headed for the door, Travis called after him. “Hey, can you give me a ride to the bus station tomorrow?”

“What?”

“I have to be there by eight in the morning, and it can be a long walk,” Travis explained. “It’s cool if you can’t. I’ll get someone else, I’d just rather it be you.”

Dennis blinked. “I guess I can do it.”

Travis smiled. “Good. Meet me here at seven thirty. And, can you make sure to close the door when you go?” Travis turned his back then, moving a little too slowly to his closet where he fingered different shirts, but didn’t remove them from the hangers.

“Sure,” Dennis replied as his hand landed on the doorknob, but it took him a minute to open it as he looked over his shoulder at the back facing him. “Are you alright?” Dennis suddenly asked, feeling a little shocked with himself when the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

When Travis looked over his shoulder, there was a small smile curling his mouth, either because he found the question thoughtful, or because he found Dennis’s discomfort amusing somehow. He didn’t comment on either, only shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah. Always.”

***

Travis Beltnick wasn’t okay. But it’s none of your business, Dennis firmly reminded himself as he watched the guy in question head towards his car early Wednesday morning, suitcase in hand.

Dennis looked down at his own hand, where he held the strip of pictures he’d taken from that very suitcase the day before. That had been a stupid thing to do, he’d decided. Stupider that he hadn’t dropped it somewhere in Travis’s room before leaving.

But even so, when Travis grew nearer to the car, Dennis slipped the pictures right back into his pocket with no intention of giving them back. There would be too much explaining to do, and Dennis feared that currently, he wouldn’t do it very well, so placing it out of his mind, he turned his attention to Travis Beltnick as he placed his bags in the back seat and climbed into the front, yawning widely.

“Not used to waking up so early?” Dennis commented, if only to break the abrupt silence that seemed more effective than the one that had been there when he was on his own.

“Didn’t go to sleep,” Travis mumbled. He seemed docile, almost mentally absent as he took a quick look around and then focused straight out the window. “Ready to go?”

Dennis waited for Travis to get his door closed, and then responded by driving. Long minutes passed; Dennis fiddled with the radio... and he waited. Travis wasn’t often silent. Even when he was silent, he always ended up having something to say, but today was different, and it was becoming abundantly clear that this was going to be a silent ride.

“Know where you’re going?” Travis asked, and Dennis was a little surprised to hear his voice by then.

“Yeah.”

More silence. Really awkward silence, given the circumstances of the last two times Dennis had been anywhere near Travis. It was the one that had happened yesterday afternoon that was still on his mind. He glanced sidelong at his passenger. Travis was unmistakably exhausted, whether or not his mind was in another place. But his skin was glowing, as if he’d recently showered. His straight hair was a little messy; neglected, like the ripped jeans and faded sweatshirt he’d chosen to wear. Dennis wanted to say something to him. He didn’t know what, but something. Unfortunately, starting a conversation wasn’t one of his stronger talents, and with Travis in particular lately, he felt like he was walking on circles of thin ice.

Travis looked up suddenly; caught Dennis looking. He smiled at him, not mocking, or curious, or even teasing--and he was always teasing--he just smiled. “I met your family yesterday.”

Dennis blinked. If anything,that wasn’t what he’d expected. “Huh?”

“I went back to work,” Travis explained as he sat back and his eyes became occupied with the scenery passing through the windows again. “I guess I picked a bad time. He ended up dragging me to your mom’s house. So I met your family. I don’t like them.”

Dennis raised an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Your mom’s not as much fun as your dad... and something tells me I don’t need to explain what I think about your brother.”

Dennis’s brow frowned. “You didn’t give him a reason not to like you, did you?”

Travis grinned at that, the most genuine smile he’d presented since getting into Dennis’s car. “That was half the fun.”

“You should stay away from him,” Dennis stated.

“No worries. No plans to be his new best friend or anything like that.”

“I’m serious,” Dennis said. “Lyle has a temper, okay? It’s predictable that he’ll go off over anything... not so predictable over when it’ll happen. Just stay away.”

Travis smiled again. “Are you looking out for me?”

Dennis ground his teeth, suddenly unable to meet Travis’s eyes. “It was a warning, okay? Up to you what you do with it.”

Travis regarded Dennis thoughtfully for a moment. “I’m not worried about him. I just wanted you to know I get it, what your deal is with them. If that was my family, I wouldn’t go home, either.”

“Am I supposed to be happy to hear you say that?” Dennis asked, sounding a little more defensive than he’d meant to.

“I don’t know. Are you?”

Dennis frowned. “I don’t know.”

Travis let out a breath, either not knowing where else to take this conversation, or not having the energy to do it anyway. Either way, Dennis surprised both of them when he decided to change the subject, rather than allowing the ride to the bus stop fall into another tense silence. “Where are you going?” he asked. “If you don’t tell me, I don’t really care... but where are you going?”

Travis thought about that for a moment, and he was still facing the window when he answered. “I guess I’m going home.”

“Home?”

Travis shrugged. “I’ve been a lot of places, you know? Moved around a lot... it’s the only place I keep going back to. That’s like home, right? Even if I don’t want it to be?” Travis sounded uncertain, maybe even concerned over his own reasoning.

“I don’t know,” Dennis replied. “I guess it depends on why you keep going back there. Does it feel like home?”

Travis looked up then. There were lines on his face that seemed unusual for him, marking the kind of frown he didn’t often use. “No,” he finally said. “But it’s the one place I’ve ever been with someone who loved everything about me.”

Dennis didn’t know how to respond to that, not even with more questions. They were almost to the bus station now, and he took in and released a few breaths as he went to concentrating on the busy parking lot. “Should I go in with you?” he asked uneasily. Stupid question.

“No, I’m good,” Travis insisted, unbuckling even before they came to a full stop. “Thanks for the ride, though. I’ll call you up when I get back. We should deal with some things, anyway, don’t you think?”

Faced with a sudden, pointed look, Dennis’s eyes widened slightly. “Um... no, we don’t need to deal with...”

“But we should,” Travis cut him off, suddenly amused again. “I’ll see you later.”

Perturbed, and refusing to believe that he and Travis would be dealing with anything that concerned the two of them, Dennis watched his passenger open the car door and get out, only to pull the seat forward and reach for his bags. Home. Home? Dennis wondered where home was for Travis Beltnick.

“Can I ask you something?” Dennis suddenly blurted. “About what happened yesterday?”

Travis dropped his hold on his bag, mostly because he was surprised by the question. But, instead of avoiding it, as he might have expected himself to do, he regarded Dennis expectantly. “About what you heard me tell Kyle?”

Dennis gave a slow nod. “Was it true?” he asked, not that he was indicating that he hadn’t believed it.

“Yes.”

“Did you see it happen?”

Travis went from seemingly looking through Dennis to meeting his eyes directly. “No. I saw what happened to Bill--my foster father--after Allan shot him.” Travis paused, shrugging as if nothing more could be said for it now.

“What did you do?”

Travis looked at Dennis the way he always looked at people who wanted to know more as he tried to figure out if they wanted to know for the sake of morbid fascination, or because they felt obligated to ask after the details. He rarely ever laughed at such questions, though, as he did this time. A short, nervous laugh that somehow didn’t sound like himself before he gave Dennis an answer. “The same thing I did every time I heard anything that sounded like a gun. I pissed all over myself.” Travis nodded his head as if to confirm that was the truth, even though Dennis hadn’t reacted to it at all. “No one gets to know that about me, and you get to know because... I don’t know why you get to know. I’ll see you later.”

Before Dennis realized what was happening, Travis and his luggage was out of the car, the door was closed, and Travis was on his way into the terminal with no intention of looking back.