In the Fishbowl - 23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Owen could still remember the first time he’d laid eyes on Aiden Knightly. It was during his second day in a new high school, and Aiden had been leaving the restrooms just as Owen was going in. He remembered turning to make room as they crossed through the same door, and the way that Aiden had turned his body in a way that kept a reasonable distance between them. Their shirt sleeves had brushed, but their eyes had never met. But Owen remembered the clean way he smelled; the slight mild aroma--the kind that was comfortable to lean into; and he remembered watching him walk away before he went on with his business. They wouldn’t meet for another two months, but the same jitters would rise in Owen’s chest each time Aiden passed him by. Attraction. It was the simplest emotion, and often the one which had reminded Owen he was still alive before he’d developed the ability to adjust to his new surroundings.

Attraction was easy. But for a long time after becoming friends with Aiden, it was something that Owen rarely felt towards anyone else. Sure, he could admire certain guys, but it wasn’t the same; he hadn’t allowed it to be because there was Aiden.

There was no longer Aiden. The fact was, Owen had come to this conclusion rather suddenly, even after having the last few months to figure it out. It was a simple fact, really, and it came to him, ironically enough, when he was sitting there trying to figure out the best way to reconcile with his ex-boyfriend. He’d figured that if the reason they weren’t together was because Aiden thought he was losing interest in him, as Ben suspected, then Owen thought it should be easy to convince him otherwise. Shouldn’t be too hard. He didn’t know how to lose interest in Aiden. But then there was this thought that kept ringing in his ears, something that Travis had said to him. Don’t assume people do things you don’t like just to hurt you.

It seemed like a strange thought to be having while planning out a reconciliation with someone who he figured he’d do just about anything to get back. But, he couldn’t shake it, and the message was loud and clear. Not everything’s about you, Owen.

He could bend over backwards, do whatever it took just to call Aiden his again, and it wouldn’t even matter. But Aiden mattered, and the fact that he was insecure enough with their relationship in the first place to allow it to end made Owen wonder if Aiden needed this distance. It wasn’t all about Owen. It didn’t matter if Owen was ready to fix things. He knew it wasn’t possible until Aiden was ready, too.

Maybe--as much as it stung now--maybe Aiden hadn’t been happy.

Owen was bitter enough over that thought, but it had provoked others, like the fact that he needed to move on. Maybe he needed to show himself that he could. Maybe he’d subconsciously chosen a candidate to help him do that, and that’s why Travis Beltnick had continuously shown up in his thoughts lately, and not because Owen still felt the need to prove to Aiden that he could decide for himself who was in his league. Not because he thought proving it would give him one last chance to show Aiden that he could live without him, even if he didn’t want to. And while he didn’t think any of that was what he was doing, Owen couldn’t help wondering--as twisted and backwards as it sounded--if showing Aiden this would give him what he wanted. Make him happy.

But, convinced that this wasn’t a strange sort of competition, Owen had decided that there was something worthwhile about Travis. There was attraction. That was the easy part. Travis wasn’t exactly hard to look at, and Owen had seen that right away. His appearance could be boyish at times, but then when he smiled it was anything but; it was like he was teasing whoever he had those white teeth aimed at, an I-know-something-you-don’t-know kind of smile, and when his dark, narrow eyes glazed over with amusement there was a potent sex appeal about him that seemed contagious. Owen remembered Ben and Leo discussing it shortly after meeting Travis for the first time, and lately he’d seen more of it for himself. He’d noticed other things for himself lately, too. Like the way he really liked just being around Travis. True, the guy could be infuriating at times, but he seemed to read Owen well, and lately, Owen appreciated that.

He still thought about the morning he’d shown up at the apartment complex to see Aiden. He couldn’t have been more inconvenienced when Travis had put an end to his plans, but now he realized it was probably for the best. Somewhere on the way from Ben’s house Owen had lost perspective when it came to what he had intended to do--if he even knew what he’d planned in the first place. By the time he arrived on Aiden’s doorstep all he wanted to do was straighten him out; tell him how stupid he was for thinking he had legitimate reasons for their separation. Owen now knew that would have been a mistake. He kept thinking that Travis had done him a favor... and he kept thinking that Travis liked him.

Travis had said as much, after all. Travis never seemed to have a problem saying anything that was on his mind. That was another thing that Owen liked. There was no guessing involved. Except, of course, after Owen had decided to kiss the guy.

It hadn’t exactly been a spur-of-the-moment kind of kiss. In fact, Owen had been entertaining the idea all night on Valentine’s Day as he hosted the club’s festivities, often watching his friends’ table, where Travis had made himself comfortable. Owen had considered himself brave for even giving the idea some serious consideration; he thought Travis might like it. And, when he heard about the way Travis had taken up for Dennis--even if Owen did feel he had emotions invested on both sides of the Leo-Dennis quarrel--it had sealed the deal for him, and he’d gone for it. The look on Travis’s face had been worth every moment of uncertainty leading up to it all, and Owen had walked away feeling more confident than he had since losing Aiden. Unfortunately, that confidence had also faded with every day that Travis hadn’t returned his calls, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d made a serious error in judgment.

Owen usually dwelled on matters such as this. He could for weeks if given the time to. That’s why it surprised him that he felt relief rather than bumbling nervousness when Travis showed up in the club office an hour before they opened for the night.

There’d been no knock, no grand entrance. He’d simply let himself in and smiled when he found Owen standing on the desk to change a light bulb he’d been complaining to Chris about for the last month.

Of course, now that Travis had found a place in his thoughts, it seemed much easier to get lost in that smile. Owen started to return it, but stopped short when he allowed himself to notice more about Travis than white teeth and endearing dimples.

“What happened to your face?” Owen blurted, and Travis’s fingers lifted to his bruised eye in a motion that looked more like habit than self-consciousness.

He shrugged. “Ran into someone’s fist, I guess,” he replied, dismissing it as a concern. “Are you busy?”

“Um...” Owen started, only to drop the light bulb in his hand as he lifted it towards the ceiling. Travis stepped forward to catch it, but his efforts might have made the situation worse as it bounced off his fingers and cracked on the floor. He shrugged at that, too, and then moved forward to retrieve another one from the box, which he successfully passed to Owen. Owen screwed in the bulb, and then made another effort to speak as he stepped off the desk. “I’m not busy.”

“Oh,” Travis replied, and if Owen wasn’t mistaken, Travis actually seemed disappointed.

“Oh?”

Travis made a grimace and circled widely around Owen to rest his hip against the desk as he looked at the floor thoughtfully for a moment. When he met Owen’s eyes again, he seemed suddenly determined. “I’ve been avoiding your calls.”

Owen’s eyes widened slightly. He knew Travis was blunt, but he figured if the guy had any sense of proper etiquette he would have let him bring that up. And then deny it! “Yeah, I know, and I’m glad you stopped by because I’d really like to talk to you about that. I know...”

Travis lifted his hand--and then actually ducked his eyes, as if not looking at Owen would make the talking stop. Owen couldn’t decide if he was offended, or ready to laugh out loud.

“You really shouldn’t explain,” Travis insisted. This wasn’t easy for him. He’d never had to go to such lengths to blow off anyone in his life, and even a similar conversation he’d had with Aiden had been more a matter of teasing than something to be taken completely seriously. “Listen, there’s no way I’m gonna pull off one of those it’s-not-you-it’s-me things. So, I’m just gonna say it’s not gonna happen and that it’ll suck if we can’t be friends.”

Owen opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “What?” was the best he could come up with after all that. He was too busy trying not to feel like he’d just been sideswiped.

Travis sighed heavily. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”

“What?”

Travis lifted his hand in a helpless gesture, and then looked like he might explain. But, before he got the chance, Owen shook his head as if to dismiss everything that had just been said.

“Okay, I think I know what the problem is here,” Owen said more to himself, and then turned to Travis with, “You really don’t have to worry about it.”

Travis’s brows came together. “Really?”

Owen let out a breath and took a cautious step towards him. “I know... I know I’ve probably been sending you mixed signals.”

“Actually, the only signal you ever sent was...”

“Like I’ve told you,” Owen cut him off, “I’ve been in this weird place. But I didn’t kiss you because of Aiden, if that’s what you’re thinking. I can’t keep thinking about him, and I know that now. And, I know that I can’t keep waiting for him. To be honest, I don’t know if I even want to anymore. It’s not Aiden.”

“But I thought...”

“You said that you like me.”

Travis frowned, dismissed the first three responses that entered his mind, and then went to great lengths to regard Owen with a fair amount of sympathy. “I do like you. That’s exactly why nothing’s gonna happen here.” Travis pushed off the desk when Owen’s eyes narrowed on him. He was running out of patience, and didn’t like the unfamiliar discomfort he was feeling. “I’m sorry... but listen, I know Aiden told you some things about me, some of ‘em had to be rotten, right? Assume they’re all true.”

Owen’s lip curled, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “You’re not that bad, Travis. You’re actually...”

“Please don’t tell me what I am... and please, forget about this.”

Owen’s eyes turned down, as if he was trying to concentrate on something, but having difficulty with it. “Was it the kiss? I’m just wondering because...”

“The kiss surprised me,” Travis said, understanding where he was going. “But it was also great. Really,” he added with a smile when Owen looked up uncertainly. “And please don’t think I’m not interested, because trust me, I’d love to be all over you right now.”

Owen crossed his arms. “Then why aren’t you?”

Travis took a step back. “Because I can’t be what you want me to be. You might not wanna wait around for Aiden, but it would be worse with me. Believe me. And I can’t...”

“You can’t what?” Owen asked when Travis looked like he wanted to say more, but then refused to.

“I can’t explain this anymore,” Travis replied, exasperated. He headed towards the door, bothered by the way it was suddenly so difficult to look Owen in the eye. Was that guilt he was feeling? Well damn if he didn’t have a problem with that. “Please, please don’t take this personally,” he said when he stopped briefly with his hand on the door handle. “I’m sorry... and it really isn’t you. Bye.”

Concerned that he’d made the worst possible exit of his life, Travis moved through the club without allowing his feet to stop for even the slightest moment, even when he came face to face with Kyle. He couldn’t deal with that now, not with the look of annoyance on Kyle’s face, so he wove his way around him and out the door. He was halfway down the length of the building before he slowed down to catch his breath. That never should have happened with Owen. He knew it would have had to sooner or later, but he was suddenly aggravated that he’d been forced into it. If Dennis hadn’t told him to go down there, then none of that awkwardness...

No. It was too convenient to blame Dennis, and it wasn’t fair. Travis knew well enough that no one could have convinced him to do something he didn’t want to do. Even if he didn’t want to talk to Owen he supposed that he did want to make Dennis happy. And that alone was enough to aggravate him all over again.

Sure, it was cute when Dennis told him not to go kissing anyone else. But Travis told himself that he didn’t mind, given that right now he didn’t have any interest in kissing anyone else. He was having too much fun with Dennis. They were having fun. Of course, he’d never come close to being interested in having fun with any guy for this long before, and he didn’t even want to consider what he’d be feeling if Dennis wanted to stop having fun before he did. But then, that could very well happen, he realized. Dennis was safely in his closet, living his life the way he chose to, and Travis might as well have been one long conjugal visit. Meanwhile, Travis was breaking up with a perfectly nice guy and couldn’t even tell him why.

Not that Dennis would have changed matters much with Owen under normal circumstances. Travis liked the idea of freedom. He liked to be able to walk away from something when he got bored enough, no hurt feelings involved.

Unfortunately, he got the feeling that Dennis was the same way. Only with Dennis, it had nothing to do with being bored and everything to do with having too much fun. Dennis would get too close and then pull away; it was only a matter of time, and by then between Kyle, and now Owen, Travis wouldn’t have any friends left to distract himself from it.

“Travis!”

He’d have to distance himself, he decided. From Dennis. Not too much, he didn’t want to do that, but what he felt around the guy was exactly the type of attachment that he knew he’d be better off without.

“Travis!”

Travis turned suddenly, the second time his name was called jolting him from his grim thoughts, and found himself with nothing more to say when he met Owen Dovan’s blue eyes where he was standing out on the sidewalk, his face flushed from his effort to catch up. But, Owen didn’t seem to expect him to say anything at all.

“You were right... it would really suck if we couldn’t still be friends.”

Travis let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding and forced a smile. If Owen Dovan’s words had come at any other time, he probably wouldn’t have appreciated them nearly as much.

***

Travis looked down at the stack of fliers in his hands and wondered if he could get them all out before tonight. It was already past four on a Saturday, and Chris had taken the risk of pulling all of his other advertising for the club to rely on him. Travis wondered if that had been a mistake, since he was tempted to toss the whole stack each time he passed a dumpster in the suburban neighborhood not far from the college.

It wasn’t that he minded putting an effort into the job; it was another source of income accessible when he needed it. But he was tired. He’d done well at the dealership earlier in the day, but he’d also put up with more of John Gordon’s griping than usual, and while the old man didn’t mention it, Travis had a feeling that he was still angry that Travis had no intention of trying to sucker Dennis into taking a job there. He hadn’t mentioned any of this to Dennis. He was too busy enjoying just being around Dennis to ruin it.

That was what Travis didn’t mind about working when he’d rather be sitting somewhere with his feet up. Dennis. Travis had asked him for a ride to the area so he could get rid of the fliers, and Dennis had stuck around to help him stick them on doors and under car windshield wipers.

So much for keeping his distance. The situation was what it was, and Travis would rather experience it than prematurely sabotage it. He looked across the street to where Dennis had just been caught by a group of girls while attempting to stick a flier to their door, and he couldn’t help but smile. Dennis looked good today, still dressed from a shift he put in at the bookstore. They liked him tidy there, he’d said as an excuse when Travis had commented on how he could see his reflection in Dennis’s shoes. He’d put just enough produce in his blond hair to keep it all in place, and he’d forgotten to remove a thin-framed pair of reading glasses, which Travis had neglected to point out just because glasses somehow made Dennis appear... less angry. That must have been it, Travis decided. Dennis was always attractive, but he always looked angry... he just looked more attractive when he didn’t look angry. The girls across the street must have noticed that he was attractive, too, because they seemed interested enough in the fliers that they wanted Dennis to come inside and tell them all about the club. Which, they’d probably been to a hundred times.

But, Dennis wasn’t social enough to get away from the chill in the air for even a few minutes, and Travis wasn’t above admitting that he found Dennis’s awkwardness as he excused himself just as attractive as the glasses.

Travis smiled when Dennis’s eyes darted around the streets for him, probably wondering if he’d been abandoned, and he liked the way Dennis actually looked relieved when he spotted him on the street. Travis waited for him, and they fell into step beside one another as they continued on their way.

“I’m not talking to anyone else,” Dennis announced, and Travis managed to laugh and give him an odd look at the same time. “What?” Dennis demanded.

“Nothing... it’s just, I’ve been around a lot of Gordons lately and sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re related to any of them. You’re not nearly as... loud.”

Dennis looked almost curious over the remark. “Thanks,” he said, and Travis laughed again.

“You’re welcome. I think.”

They fell silent as they approached another house; neither one of them was interested in alerting someone inside that they were there, but on the way back down the driveway Dennis sounded somewhat troubled as he said, “I used to be... loud.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Dennis gave a nod. “Really loud. You would have hated me.”

“I doubt it. You probably wouldn’t have liked me much, though.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Dennis stated, and Travis stopped walking long enough to look incredulous before he shrugged and kept moving.

“You don’t hate me now, do you?” Travis asked, but before Dennis could reply his phone rang. He looked at the number and fully planned to ignore it before Travis reached out, tilted the phone and looked for himself; it was the third time in the last hour Dennis had ignored a call. When Travis realized why his jaw all but dropped. “Are you kidding me? I had to talk to Owen but you get to ignore him?”

Dennis frowned. “What if he wants to talk about you?”

Travis smirked, letting Dennis know that he wouldn’t mind at all. “And?”

“And... it’s awkward,” Dennis said.

“Because you don’t have the guts to tell him there’s a reason why you wouldn’t want to hear about me from him.”

“It’s none of his business.”

“Well things would’ve been easier the other day if it was,” Travis responded. “You don’t know how hard it is to tell someone you’re not into them without having an excuse like someone else told you not to kiss other guys.”

Dennis frowned. This was the first time Travis had bothered to bring up that particular conversation, and he didn’t really like it. “It’s none of Owen’s business,” he repeated.

Travis glanced at him sidelong, and while he considered changing the subject, couldn’t help himself from pushing a little further. “You know... it wouldn’t make a difference to Owen.”

Obviously frustrated, Dennis picked up the pace slightly enough for it to be noticeable and scowled despite his efforts not to. “You’re pissed off at Kyle because he hates that you didn’t tell him what you’re into--because it was none of his business in the first place. You can’t be pissed because I keep my business to myself as much as you do.”

“That’s different,” Travis insisted. “It was none of Kyle’s business because he’s not sleeping with me. You are, and you’re too freaked out by it to even mention it to someone who wouldn’t judge you for it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Dennis replied. “What does one have to do with the other?”

“Exactly!”

“What?” Dennis shook his head, not sure he wanted Travis to explain anything further as he regarded him curiously. “Why is it so important for you to label me?”

“Huh?”

“You say things... like, who you’re fucking shouldn’t matter, right? But when I say I’m not gay...”

Travis snorted. “Okay, you’ve gotta stop saying that, ‘cause I could argue it until your pants fall down.”

“See, that’s what I mean,” Dennis replied irritably.

“I’m sorry, but in case you didn’t notice, you’ve given me plenty of reasons to think what I do about you. And to be honest, I don’t really care if you admit it to everyone else. Owen would be nice because then I might be able to stop feeling guilty every time I get around him--but I don’t need that. It would be damn nice if you’d at least admit it to me, though. I think I’ve earned that.”

“I like women, Travis.”

Dennis had said it with so much self-assurance that Travis had to look at him twice. And he believed him.

“Holy shit.”

“Why does that surprise you?” Dennis demanded, apparently offended.

Travis ignored the question. “You’ve been with girls before?”

Dennis shrugged. “That was one thing I didn’t have to fake to stay on my dad’s good side.”

“But you’ve been with guys before, too,” Travis stated.

Dennis didn’t respond to this. It seemed he preferred to turn the tables instead. “What about you?”

“Always guys. Early on... I think I was nine when I tried to make out with Allan.”

“Your brother?”

“It’s not like we had the same parents,” Travis said defensively. “And, it never happened. He set me straight real quick. Said he heard some boys liked boys and he figured I was one of them. Never cared as long as I didn’t try anything with him again... so are you into girls now?” Travis wasn’t sure what he meant by the question, he only knew that this development made him wonder even more when it came to what he was doing with Dennis. He didn’t like the way it sounded, either, because in most cases it wouldn’t have mattered to him.

Dennis shrugged. “I guess so. Why do you care, anyway?”

“I don’t know... I just didn’t figure it, is all. You’re bi then, right?”

Dennis frowned. “Stop trying to label me.”

“Straight?” Travis asked, and when he received an equally deadly glare from Dennis, it somehow made him feel better. A little bit, at least. “Okay. I don’t care if you like girls. But you like me, too, right?”

Dennis paused to look Travis over for a moment, but then kept walking, without giving a response. Travis hoped that was because he just didn’t like to answer stupid questions. He couldn’t see a way to press the issue without coming off more desperate that he wanted as he continued to walk, but it was just as well because as they passed the community center right next to the neighborhood park, something else caught his attention.

“Where are you going?” Dennis asked as Travis turned down the path leading to the long building, which was usually colorful and landscaped in the summer.

“I just wanna check something out,” Travis explained, and that seemed good enough for Dennis, who joined him as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and dug out a folded-up napkin that he’d been carrying around for a while now.

Dennis moved to look over his shoulder, read the address scratched onto the napkin, but didn’t understand why Travis was so interested in it until he looked up and saw the same address number near the door of the community center.

“Are you supposed to be doing something here?”

Travis shook his head. “Not really. I think this guy I know might work here.”

“Okay,” Dennis replied, and waited for a minute as Travis stared at the building, not sure what was supposed to happen next. He wanted to ask if they could keep moving, but before he got the chance, Travis took a step forward.

“I’m going in.”

“It looks closed,” Dennis remarked. Travis ignored him until he went to the front door and opened it with no trouble; then he stopped to smile back at Dennis.

“Are you coming?”

“Are you gonna get rid of the rest of these fliers in there?”

Travis gave a noncommittal shrug and then moved inside. He allowed the door to swing shut behind him, leaving it up to Dennis to follow if he felt like it.

It wasn’t a very big community center. It seemed clean, decorated in mild colors and fake plants while the air reeked of a mix of bleach, and sweet-scented air fresheners. There was a desk that appeared to have grown directly out of the floor, and Travis guessed that the person usually behind it was supposed to act as a directory in the center of a room that moved off into two directions. But, the unoccupied chair didn’t bother him, as he was more than capable of reading the signs pinned neatly up on the walls. An indoor pool, a closed outdoor pool, a rec room, gym, basketball court... he wondered how often the place was used. It certainly seemed quiet now, especially for a Saturday.

“Hello?” His voice echoed off the walls, through the building. Nothing.

A cool gust of air slipped in when the door behind him opened, but he didn’t bother to look as he heard Dennis’s shiny shoes catch up to him.

“It still looks closed,” Dennis remarked.

A door somewhere in the facility opened, hinting at several voices behind it before it closed again and Travis turned in the direction while Dennis kept close behind him.

“How do you know it’s even okay for us to be here?” Dennis wanted to know.

“You don’t see anyone telling us to leave, do you?” Travis replied, glancing over his shoulder with an amused smile. He rather liked Dennis when he sounded nervous. “Come on,” he insisted, reaching back to hook his shoulder and push him forward. “It’s warm in here. Break time.”

“We could’ve just gone home,” Dennis mumbled.

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Home?” he remarked, and Dennis sent him a look warning not to read too much into the way he’d worded things. Travis sighed. “Listen, I just wanna see if this guy--Joe, if he’s around. A while back he asked me to stop by. Haven’t done it yet. There might be a job involved.”

“Yeah?” Dennis asked, staring at the back of Travis’s head, surprised.

Travis shrugged. He wasn’t quite willing to admit that he was just about willing to say farewell to John Gordon for a while, or that his reasons for it revolved more and more around Dennis lately. “I don’t know if I’d take one here. He didn’t mention it was a community center.”

“What wrong with that?”

“I don’t know. It’s not my community.” Travis stopped halfway down the hall to look in on a dimly lit room which could have passed for a well-furnished, large den equipped with a large television and leather sofas that looked a little too tempting. “You know,” he said, turning to grin at Dennis, if those couches fold down we could...”

Dennis interrupted the thought by turning Travis by the back of the neck and pushing him forward to continue down the hall. “How do you even know your friend’s here?”

“I don’t,” Travis admitted. “I’m just looking around.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” The question didn’t come from Dennis, and they both turned around to face the cigarette-burned voice and the unkempt two-day beard of the man who’d come down the hall behind them.

Travis smiled and switched directions. “That depends. What do you think would go unnoticed around here if it happened to disappear?”

“Nothing, so don’t even think it,” Joe replied as he wiped wet paint from his hand onto already-stained jeans before offering it to Travis, who wasn’t put off by the dried blue marks and calluses that met his palm.

“I’m on my best behavior,” he remarked.

Joe gave him a wry smile, looking him over and shaking his head at the new black eye. “I’m glad you finally made it. Who’s your friend?” he asked, nodding towards Dennis.

Travis made started to make the proper introductions until he was surprised by Dennis, who interrupted halfway through to introduce himself instead of making a strong effort to fade into the background. But, Travis supposed that if Dennis was going to be at ease with people, Joe was a good place to start.

“What do you do here, anyway?” Travis asked as he gave Joe a once-over. “You the painter?”

“Today I am,” Joe replied. “Tonight I’m the chef.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. “This place serves dinner, too? I need to move to this side of town.”

“You already live on this side of town,” Dennis pointed out. This time Travis wasn’t surprised that he’d spoken up, but that he sounded impatient. His shock didn’t wear off much when Dennis looked at Joe. “He said you might have a job here.”

Taken aback, and possibly considering Dennis rude, Joe forced a friendly look. “Are you looking?”

“Not me,” Dennis said firmly. “Him.”

“Oh. Travis,” Joe said carefully, without paying much attention to the glare Travis was suddenly sending his companion. “I didn’t ask you to come down here for a job... I mean, none of this actually pays.”

Travis was paying attention again, and was feeling as confused as Dennis looked. “Huh?”

“I thought stopping by might be good for you,” Joe explained alongside a helpless shrug.

“So... what? Travis asked. “Does that mean you’re cooking me dinner, too? Eating’s good for me.... right? Eating?” He looked to Dennis for confirmation and received a shove to his shoulder for it. Obviously, Dennis wasn’t in the mood for sarcasm and he wanted to see Travis find another job even more than he’d been letting on. Come to think of it, it could explain why he’d been so eager to help out with those fliers.

“Why don’t you come with me,” Joe suggested, and without waiting for a response, headed down the hall in the direction they’d moved to begin with, and the same voices Dennis and Travis had heard earlier became apparent as Joe opened a heavy door to the chatter that echoed like a classroom of children during recess. But, that could have been because behind the door, there were children. Fifteen, at most, they occupied an indoor basketball court, taking advantage of every foot of the small room as they participated in activities ranging from jump rope to a board game set up on a card table in the corner. Masking tape with their names stuck to their shirts identified each one--the color of their names designating groups, despite the fact that they were scattered amongst each other. Most were younger than eight years old, but the few older kids didn’t look a year over twelve.

Travis wasn’t paying much attention to the kids. He was suddenly frowning at Joe and working hard not to storm out of there after teaching the youngsters a few new phrases.

The entire situation was all too familiar to him, and suddenly he remembered days as a child when the little white bus would show up at his various foster homes on the weekends, load him up with a lot of other faces that changed as frequently as his home did and haul him off to participate in camp activities he hated with counselors he hated more. This was all after Allan, of course. The homes he’d been invited into could hardly handle him, but that didn’t mean they didn’t try. He’d been signed up for a big-brother program, gone to individual therapy sessions as well as group, and finally sent away with a bunch of kids who he’d been told would understand him. But Travis had learned quickly enough that the only thing those other children his own age understood was how not to trust. He remembered the way the older ones split into groups and bullied when no one was looking because that was all they knew how to do, and he remembered the needy ones that liked to hug. He’d hated hugs. Travis remembered making one friend that didn’t last past a sleepover because of his nightmares; but then wetting the bed while the other boy was in it probably hadn’t helped matters, either.

Travis didn’t mind children. He just preferred it when they were nothing like he was as a child, and these kids were way too familiar. It didn’t matter that they were playing now: smiling, laughing, talking on about nothing, just like every other kid did. They were still different, and while he’d never be able to point it out to someone who didn’t understand, he knew it was there. It put him on edge, made him feel sick, and why Joe had thought this would be good for him seemed like a damn good question. It seemed the older man had put Travis together more than Travis felt like giving him credit for, and he never liked feeling like an open book when it came to his past.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dennis suddenly asked, and Travis realized that the tension he felt in his head was the anger pushing at the veins near his temple. He quickly tried to relax it.

“Nothing. I think we should go now.”

Joe sighed. “You know, since you’re here it wouldn’t hurt to stick around for a while. I hear they always need more hands at story time.”

“Great,” Travis remarked. “You’ve got two of ‘em, so use yours.”

Joe frowned, and then attempted to appeal to Dennis. “These kids have all had problems; most don’t have much to look forward to. But, this center lets them come in over the weekends. It’s all volunteer-run, and you happened to show up on a day they’re short three because of the flu.” He waved towards a tall woman in the corner, begging two of the boys and a girl dressed like one to calm down.

Dennis gave a small shrug, not so sure what to say, but politely asked, “What’s story time?”

“We’ve got a few books at the library. The kids do better in small groups. Feel like reading to them?”

Dennis looked to Travis, who didn’t hesitate to shake his head, and suddenly felt sorry that he’d asked in the first place. Joe was looking at him as if he’d be granting the world’s most important favor, and Dennis was already feeling guilt over a negative answer he hadn’t given yet.

But then, he didn’t exactly have to say no. It wasn’t like Travis didn’t have the time to stick around for a while, and since he was the reason why they were there in the first place, Dennis didn’t see how that gave him much leverage to complain. Besides, even if Dennis wanted to say no to Joe, he didn’t find much reason to blow off a bunch of kids who probably had rotten luck outside of the small facility. “I’ll read.”

“That’s great,” Joe said, grinning as he shook Dennis’s hand again. He looked at Travis expectantly, but Travis was too busy shaking his head at Dennis--who was expertly ignoring him--to pay Joe any mind. “Okay then,” Joe said, and suddenly leaned into the room. “Mr. Summers! I’ve got one more volunteer over here for story time.”

“Thanks, Joe. We’ll get to that in about ten minutes,” a smooth voice called back, and to find the source of it, Travis and Dennis had to step into the room: Travis curiously, Dennis warily. Dennis being wary was what made Travis curious in the first place, and as it turned out, Dennis had a reason to look worried.

But, if anyone thought they had a right to be concerned about the developing situation, it was Ben Summers. His eyes had stopped short of finding Joe as soon as he laid eyes on Dennis Gordon, and suddenly for him, the chaos of children wasn’t as relaxing as it usually was. If anything, it had suddenly become pretty damn smothering, since Dennis was standing in front of the only exit. As if he were there just to prevent Ben from passing.

Mentally shaking himself, Ben looked away to collect his sudden nerves. Gordons always made him nervous when Leo wasn’t with him. So nervous, that he never noticed how nervous he made one Gordon in particular.

Dennis looked at Travis before he could stop himself, silently begging him to think of an excuse that would get them both out of there. Unfortunately, Travis seemed to have vengeance on his mind, because he no longer looked so eager to leave as he turned his attention towards Ben and grinned. “Two,” he called. “You’ve got two volunteers.”

***

Travis straightened his spine. The hard surface of the basketball court was killing his ass, and he would have much preferred to head to some of those leather sofas in the rec room. But, being vocal about it to begin with hadn’t gotten him anywhere--Joe had to paint in there. Joe had an excuse to skip story time. But then, according to Joe, he never actually participated with the kids. Part of the deal struck to let them use this place involved him fixing it up, and he figured as long as he did it, his part was done. Figured. Travis knew the guy had a heart, but he didn’t exactly seem like the child-friendly type. Travis didn’t feel very child friendly, either, at least now that his legs were cramping and he was two seconds away from shooing them all away.

But for the time being, Travis curiously glanced in Dennis’s direction, who looked no more thrilled to be there than he was.

Dennis had silently taken his group--mostly made up of the younger boys--to a far corner, as if he’d intended for them to completely disappear behind the equipment bin. He hadn’t looked up from the book he was reading them once, except when he felt Travis staring at him and shot him a dirty look.

Whatever. He’d brought it on himself, Travis figured. If Dennis had just left when he wanted to, neither of them would have their respective problems. And now Travis was dealing with it just a little longer, since Dennis’s problem seemed much more interesting than his sore backside. But, that could have been because Ben seemed to have the same type of trouble as Dennis.

The fair-haired man who struck Travis as too pretty most of the time had seemed to have lost his usual charisma. Travis figured that this much milder Ben had something to do with practicing his profession, but the somewhat depressed Ben had more to do with at least one of his volunteers.

Ben wasn’t reading. He was passing between the three circles that were--or rather, two of them. He’d walked by Travis’s group twice, even winked at him. Hopefully, Travis thought, that meant there were no hard feelings over the words he’d exchanged with Leo over Valentine’s Day.

Ben was now sitting with the third volunteer and seemed to be on easy terms with the woman as they spoke to the kids in their circle, all books put aside. But, Travis could see him as clearly as he saw Dennis, and Ben didn’t look interested in circling the third group at all, even when he looked towards the children with Dennis as if he knew he should.

“Mr. Travis.”

Travis sighed. Apparently, the kids were expected to speak respectfully to every adult who crossed their paths. Travis wasn’t thrilled about it, but neither was the kid trying to get his attention.

One of the older boys. Long-faced and freckled. Grouchy little bastard. He was the kind who’d pretend he was pissed off even if Santa left an entire department store of toys under his bed. “What?” Travis asked coolly.

The boy glared at him as if it had slipped his mind that Travis was bigger than him. “Are you going to finish reading? We’re getting bored.”

Travis looked over the other little faces surrounding him, all much more patient. He decided that Grouchy liked to use words like we instead of I because it made him feel bigger. Not wanting to think about why he was so sure of that, Travis turned his attention back to the book, sighing. Halfway through and he was tired of Pappy the plump raccoon, who happened to have a bully problem with a fox in a ball cap. “Pappy didn’t like it when the fox teased him. It made him very sad and one day after the fox teased Pappy he started to cry. Pappy’s friends were very worried. They asked Pappy what was wrong. “That fox is so mean to me,” Pappy said. “He calls me names and hurts my feelings. How can I make him stop?” “I know!” said the squirrel. “Maybe if you’re nice to the fox, he’ll be nice to...” Travis suddenly rolled his eyes, closed the book and looked around the circle of silent faces on him. Maybe they were bored. And as he saw it, not getting much out of this. “So,” he continued without the book getting in his way this time, “Pappy walked up to the fox and asked him to stop being mean, and when the fox said he wouldn’t, Pappy kicked his big bushy tail...”

The throat clearing loudly behind him stopped Travis mid-sentence and had him looking up at Ben, who couldn’t pull off looking stern to save his life.

“Mr. Summers,” the grouchy kid said, “we’ve already heard this story before, and Mr. Travis is telling it wrong.”

“Not wrong,” Travis corrected. “Just better.”

“No you’re not!” the freckled boy argued.

“Oh, please. You liked my version so much...”

“Okay, children,” Ben said dryly as he signaled to the girl next to Travis to make room so he could sit with them.

The freckled boy pouted, and Travis mimicked his face in the perfect picture of a petulant child.

“How about,” Ben said, ignoring both of them as he looked around the circle, “we make up our own stories. Just like last time.”

“Can there be monsters?” the girl who’d been sitting next to Travis asked.

“Anything you want,” Ben told her. “Do you want to go first?”

Travis frowned. He knew this game, too, and would have bet an thing that every kid in that group would have a monster in their story. They would be terrible monsters, of course, and most of the kids would manage to kill them or get away in the end. Travis didn’t want to listen to any of it, and as the girl started to talk about the vampire in a house next door who liked to trick little girls into coming inside, Travis wondered when he’d be allowed to leave. He wondered if it would be rude to just stand up and walk away from things he didn’t want to hear but couldn’t help listening to. He wondered if anyone noticed that he was already halfway to his feet...

Travis paused suddenly. Looking directly across the circle, he saw that someone had already beaten him to it. He’d done his best not to pay too much attention to the kids in the room, but he was pretty sure that this one hadn’t looked up from his folded hands since they’d sat down. He wasn’t the angry type, like Grouchy. He was the kind who felt safer when he was invisible. With his short brown hair pulled as far over his eyes as he could get it, big ears that probably turned red when he was upset and an oversized jacket zipped up to his neck despite the comfortable temperature in the room, he looked like the kid in the front of the bus, who only the driver ever acknowledged. And he probably liked it that way.

When the boy simply walked away, Travis found himself looking around, wondering if anyone was going to stop him. He imagined that Ben would, and it seemed Ben was aware of the situation, but he never removed his attention from the girl and her story.

Shrugging, Travis stood up, too, wondering why he hadn’t thought of doing that back when he was a kid wanting to bail on story time. If he’d thought for a second he could get away with it, he probably would have.

With no restrictions now, he headed for the exit, stopping briefly enough to look back at Dennis, who didn’t bother to notice that Travis had escaped his duties. It was too bad, Travis mused. He could picture himself sending up smoke signals to get Dennis to join him so the two could run off to somewhere that held more appeal. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be any time soon, and Travis wasn’t so sure that Dennis would even want to go anywhere with him after this, so until he had the chance to figure that out, he decided that finding Joe wouldn’t hurt.

But then, Joe seemed to have disappeared, and as Travis made his way back to the main entrance, he couldn’t help noticing that the community center was no longer open to just the miniature misfits occupying the basketball court. Outside, the sun was setting and families from the neighborhood had shown up to use the pool before dinner, while the front desk was now occupied by a high school student who claimed she had the most boring job in the world when Travis took the time to talk to her.

She had no idea where Joe was, so was no help in pointing Travis in the right direction; but he hung out for a while anyway before he started wondering if story time was over and if it would be possible to snatch Dennis away.

He was just about to head back when a cool gust of air followed another family through the door and drew his attention away from the building, past the empty planters and down the sidewalk to where a small silhouette could be seen sitting on the curb beneath one of the streetlights that wove throughout the neighborhood.

Travis turned his direction and slid his hands into his pockets as he pushed at the door with his shoulder until he was outside, frowning at the way the cold air crept down his neck and stung his nostrils, making it smell like more snow was coming, but he chose to be optimistic about the sunshine the forecaster had promised first thing in the morning.

Allowing his feet to lead him to the end of the curb, Travis stepped down and sat, crossing his legs in front of him as he pulled his coat more tightly around his shoulders and lifted his hood before finally looking to his right where a brown-haired boy in a big jacket sat staring down at a hole in the top of his sneakers, looking no more like a carefree child than he had when he’d walked away from the story circle. He didn’t look at Travis, though Travis would have bet money the kid knew he was there, and was probably contemplating his presence and how big of a threat he was.

Sighing, Travis reached into his coat pocket until he felt the ski cap he carried around. He held it out in the boy’s direction. “It’s cold. Wanna hat?”

In response, the boy pulled up the thin hood on his jacket and disappeared under it. Travis shrugged, shoved his hat back in his pocket and looked at the boy again. “Are you supposed to be out here?”

It was slow, but the boy finally looked in his direction, eyes glinting against his shadowed face. “Did you come to bring me back?” he wanted to know.

Travis shook his head, feigning horror. “Why would I want to go back in there?”

Despite the way Travis had overdone it, the boy nodded in serious agreement. “I don’t like those stories.”

“The ones the other kids tell? With the monsters?” Travis asked, refraining from playing stupid; this one seemed too wise for that.

The boy nodded.

“Is that because you have a monster?” Travis asked curiously.

“He’s not a monster. Just a man. But he’s scary.”

“Does he still bother you?”

The boy seemed to think about that for a moment. “Sometimes he’s there when I try to sleep, and I can see him. I can’t make him go away, but I think I’m supposed to try.”

Travis frowned. Someone had obviously decided to solve this kid’s problems by telling him that he shouldn’t worry about them. They weren’t real if they happened in dreams. More than one well-meaning foster parent had made the same mistake with him.

“Hey,” Travis said carefully. “If that man comes back again, you can tell me, okay? I’ll kick his ass.”

The boy, mildly surprised either by the language or the offer, gave it some deep consideration. “He’s bigger than you,” he finally said.

Travis laughed. “I’m pretty tough,” he promised. “And, size doesn’t matter. Even big, mean men have a weakness.”

“Like what?”

“Like... when you stop being afraid of them.” Travis paused for a few moments as his thoughts drifted elsewhere, his advice suddenly sounding cheap to his own ears as it occurred to him that he was in no shape to help anyone with the same problems that he still hadn’t gotten over. But, he pressed ahead anyway, bluffing his confidence as he met the boy’s eyes. “When you’re sleeping, he can’t be stronger than you if you’re not afraid of him.”

The boy scratched at his nose and rubbed at his eyes, signaling that just thinking about sleep was making him tired. Not that he wouldn’t fight it.

“Are you going to come back again?” he suddenly asked, but before Travis had the chance to think of a response, another set of footsteps headed in their direction had the boy subtly looking over his shoulder, and whatever he saw had him moving to his feet and suddenly running back to the building without so much as a goodbye.

Travis turned to watch, just in time to see Ben Summers hop out of the way as the child rushed past him. His slender shoulders shrugged and his blue eyes found Travis as he continued towards the curb, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “That’s Michael,” he explained. “Did he talk to you?”

Travis smirked, his neck straining to look up as Ben got closer. “If that’s what you want to call it. I guess he talked.”

Ben nodded. “Good,” he said, claiming Michael’s seat. “He doesn’t like to talk. Sweet kid, though. I think it’s hard for him to make friends. Doesn’t really trust people, but I guess you could say that’s to be expected. Had a few run-ins with his mom’s boyfriend. The boyfriend’s gone now. Michael’s back with Mom... he’s having a tough time with adjusting.” Ben sighed, shaking his head to himself. “I don’t think these group things are helping.”

Travis snorted. “Do they ever?”

Ben frowned. “I like to think they do. I’ve seen this program turn kids around--some better than others, but still...”

Travis raised a helpless hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. It just seems to me that this kind of thing should help a kid be a kid. They have to deal with monsters everywhere else. Why here, too?”

Ben raised an eyebrow, looking at Travis as if it should be obvious that he’d want these kids to deal with their monsters so they could be kids. But then asked, “Do you have monsters, Travis?”

Travis placed a hand in the space between himself and Ben, leaned his weight on it, and let his lip curl up as he watched the blond try to figure him out. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Ben smirked. “As a matter of fact.”

Travis sighed, looking up towards the street light. “I think you’re hot.”

Ben laughed. “That’s because I am. And you’re trouble.”

Travis nodded. “Does that mean your boyfriend would mind if he drove by right about now?”

“I don’t know. But, he can worry over you as much as he wants, as long as he knows he doesn’t have to worry about me. Is there any reason why you’re trying to change the subject?”

Travis shrugged. “I just don’t talk about me.” He turned his head suddenly, catching Ben’s eyes. “But I’ll talk about you. Do you have a monster, Ben?”

“Yes,” Ben replied, obviously without the same hang-ups Travis had about discussing his personal issues.

Travis may have been a little surprised by it, but it didn’t show. “Can I ask you something?”

Ben smiled. “Is there anything stopping you?”

Travis’s brows drew together. Maybe. Maybe he didn’t want to ask what was on his mind because the potential answer was already bothering him. “Is your monster in there?” he nodded over his shoulder, back towards the building and watched Ben’s face carefully. It was troubling, how this question seemed a little harder for Ben to answer.

He met Travis’s gaze easily, weighing whatever it was on his mind until finally his eyes dropped and he shook his head as he suddenly stood up. “I should get back in there.”

Travis only nodded, knowing full well that he had no right to press further, but he turned to watch Ben head back inside, and forced a smile when the blond looked back over his shoulder at him.

“You’re welcome to come back again,” Ben said thoughtfully, and Travis cocked his head, almost believing that he’d add As long as you don’t bring Dennis. But then, there was something he liked about Ben Summers, and wasn’t surprised at all when he finished with, “If you want to.”

Travis shrugged. “I’ll think about it,” he promised.

He’d be thinking about a lot of things.