In the Fishbowl - 25. Chapter 25

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Sunday, 9:01 a.m.

With a glare towards the front passenger door of his car, where Dennis was standing, Dennis roughly shoved three grocery bags into his trunk and slammed the top down. “You know what I can’t figure out?” he said. “Whether or not I hate you.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Huh. So what you’re saying is--there’s still time to sway your opinion on the matter?”

“You know what else I can’t figure out?” Dennis continued. “Whether or not you hate me.”

“That’s definitely not the case,” Travis said genuinely, but then paused, looking thoughtful. “We do tend to work against each other, though, don’t we?”

Dennis narrowed his eyes. “Ya think?”

Travis shrugged. “I think we probably can’t help it. But it works for us, right?”

“Wrong!” Dennis snapped.

Travis rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t quite understand what the problem was. “Are you still upset about your mom’s engagement party?”

Still upset? Still upset? Travis had only made a mess out of that incident less than ten minutes ago! “Am I--” Dennis sputtered. “Yeah, I’m up-fucking-set! What the hell did you think you were doing, anyway? Do you have any idea how hard it is to avoid that woman? Why would you tell her I’d be at that thing?”

“Because I figured that it would be just plain rude to invite myself without saying that you were going to be there, too,” Travis said casually. “But hey, just because I said you were going to be there doesn’t mean I was right. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Travis turned his attention to his door, which was locked, and he looked at Dennis expectantly. “Are you gonna unlock this?”

“What?” Dennis demanded.

“Shouldn’t we get this stuff back to the Chesleys’?” Travis asked, nodding towards the trunk containing the groceries.

Dennis moved to his own door, but instead of opening it, stared incredulously across the roof of his car at Travis. “You planned to go without me?”

Travis nodded. “Uh-huh. I mean, it’s not like you’d go anyway, right?”

“What?”

“You keep saying that.”

“Fine. Why? Why would you want to go?”

Travis frowned, looking like he had to think on that for a second. “I don’t know. You told me all that stuff... I guess I’m just curious about them.”

Dennis frowned. “You’ve already been to the house,” he pointed out. “You said you didn’t like them.”

“Can’t stand them,” Travis agreed. “But that was before, and with your dad. I’d like to go again.”

“Why?!”

“I told you, I’m curious,” Travis replied, and when Dennis realized that this was really the only explanation Travis had, he shook his head.

“I don’t want you to.”

Travis frowned. “Why not?”

“Because there’s too much trouble for you to get into, that’s why!”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Relax, alright? It’s not like I’m gonna say anything about you that you’d think was incriminating. I just want to take a look around. Besides, I’m pretty sure that everything about me annoys your mom. Wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t take advantage of this.”

“Travis, you’re not going.”

“Or,” Travis replied, grinning, “maybe you’ll change your mind and come with me.”

Tuesday, 4:44 p.m.

It seemed routine now, for Travis to catch the city bus that stopped at the park after work, cut through the grass and stop for a few seconds at the water fountain before heading up the hill to the Chesleys’ house.

He’d discovered a shortcut through the woods, and most days didn’t mind taking it; but with a chill in the air this afternoon he found it was more comfortable to stick to the road where the sun heated his back, and the route seemed like a good one when a familiar blue car passed by him before he’d even reached the hill, slowed, and waited just up the road.

Travis moved across the street easily, headed for the passenger door, and had his hands in front of the heater as soon as he’d sunk into the front seat, not bothering to move the heavy coat he landed on.

“I thought you were working late today,” Dennis said, and Travis finally looked at him. He was wearing his reading glasses again; another day spent at the bookstore.

“Your dad kicked me out.”

“Really?” Dennis asked, optimistic enough to cause Travis to roll his eyes.

“Not really. I cut out early to go shopping.”

Dennis made a face. “Shopping?”

“Shopping,” Travis repeated as he twisted in his seat to pull his backpack in front of him, and while Dennis watched curiously, he pulled a new--and now wrinkled--white dress shirt from his bag. “What do you think?” he asked, holding it up to his chest. “I think it makes me look like a clown.”

“What’s it for?”

“What do you think?”

Dennis’s sigh was one of pure exasperation as he made no effort to hide his disappointment and shifted the car into drive. “You should take it back.”

Travis frowned as he carelessly shoved the shirt back in his bag and tugged at his seatbelt. “So I take it you haven’t changed your mind yet?”

Beth Gordon’s engagement party had been a topic that seemed like a sore spot for both of them over the last few days; and, each of them unwilling to bend on the issue, they had gone to great lengths to avoid it.

“I’m not going, Travis, so just stop pretending that you are, already.”

“I’m not pretending,” Travis said seriously. “I’m going.”

Dennis looked in his direction, his annoyance growing. “Is there a reason why you’re trying to torture me?”

Travis shook his head, not liking that Dennis would take things that way. “Maybe I’m not trying to torture you. Maybe I’m trying to get to know you better.”

Dennis snorted. “Not the best way to do it.”

Travis shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought it might be interesting to see your family when they’re not at each other’s throats. Try to understand what you grew up with.”

“My family isn’t interesting. They’re crazy, and I already told you what I grew up...”

“Maybe I wanna see for myself,” Travis said quietly. “Maybe you should, too. Might help you get over some things.”

“Like what?” Dennis snapped. “Look, it’s none of your business, anyway. Just because we talked, doesn’t mean you get to tell me what I should be doing.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I sort of like you,” Travis said bluntly. “Your family’s getting in the way of that.”

“My family?” Dennis asked incredulously, and Travis nodded.

“The fact that you’re more worried about them finding out I’m gay and accusing you of sleeping with me than whether or not your mom’s cooking is going to give me food poisoning should speak for something.”

“Travis,” Dennis responded irritably, “they don’t have anything to do with what we’ve been doing.”

“And what have we been doing?” Travis retorted. “You’ve told me it’s just sex... you’ve told me you like girls.”

“I do like girls.”

“But you like me, too!” Travis snapped. “But, that’s just it--you like me now. I’m working for you right now. What about tomorrow, or next week when someone you know decides there’s something funny about me, huh? What then? I just want to understand, okay? Maybe if I go spend some time with these people I’ll see what you’re so afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid! And why can’t you leave it the hell alone? You say you don’t care about what people think of you, so why let them think anything at all? Shit. If you think no one’s gonna care about the real you, you’re fucked, because they will care, and they’ll fucking hate it. They’ll hate you, Travis!”

The silence that followed those remarks spoke for itself, and when Dennis glanced at Travis, who was suddenly staring blankly out the window, he forced himself to take a breath, knowing that he’d cut a little too deep with his words. “Look...”

“Don’t you mean they’d hate you,” Travis said quietly. “For being anywhere near me?” He laughed bitterly to himself. “What I don’t get... is after everything you told me they’ve done to you, is why you wouldn’t be ready to decide it’s... enough. You might not want anything to do with them, Dennis, but that isn’t stopping them from controlling you, is it?” He looked at Dennis, waiting for him to defend himself, but when the blond came up with nothing, he shook his head. “You know what? Why don’t you let me out. I just remembered something I need to do at home.”

“No,” Dennis said quickly, but only because he felt the need to argue with something, and hit his brakes anyway. Still in the middle of the winding road he waited for Travis to move, or to voice the hostility he was obviously feeling. To get out. But Travis seemed to be waiting, too, and finally, Dennis turned the car around. “I’ll drive you.”

It seemed like a mistake the moment he said it, and proved to be one for the next fifteen minutes as they passed through town surrounded by an awkward silence that Travis was unwilling to break, and Dennis didn’t know how to. When they finally reached the parking lot in front of Travis’s apartment it was unclear who was more relieved as Travis gathered up his bag and stepped outside with his hand on the door. But, before he walked away, he leaned back in to meet Dennis’s defiant expression with a searching one of his own.

Travis seemed to think something over for a moment, and swallowed uncomfortably. “This isn’t easy for me, you know? I’m not good at this... being on this side of things. But I do like you, Dennis, and if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to know what we’re doing here. Sooner would be better.”

Chewing at his lip, Dennis waited for Travis to say more because at the moment, he had nothing. But then it seemed too late, because Travis had already left the vehicle, and Dennis watched him disappear through a metaphorical door that he didn’t think he’d ever feel comfortable walking through.

Thursday, 1:51 a.m.

Dennis had trained himself early on to fall asleep at night, despite whatever stresses he might be facing. Sleep was important, and growing up, it had often been the one time that was truly his. For five to eight hours, he could shut down long enough to gather his thoughts and experience a little peace.

Unfortunately, the last two nights hadn’t been as peaceful as he liked, and the morning before he’d woken up exhausted, and before he even bothered to roll out of bed, disturbing knots had tightened in his stomach, just as they did early Thursday morning.

He’d thought the chirping in his ear was the alarm clock, and was already trying to remember what job he was supposed to make it to, when he opened his eyes to darkness and realized the phone had interrupted his attempted rest. The name against the glowing background looked bleary to his groggy eyes, but it had him sitting up and pressing talk before it had a chance to go to voice mail.

And then he paused. He hadn’t heard from Travis since Tuesday afternoon. He’d thought of calling him, but had decided that he wouldn’t know what to say. Dennis thought he wanted to apologize for their argument; was pretty sure that he wanted to. But then, he wasn’t sure that what he wanted to apologize for was the same thing that Travis expected him to apologize for. That was probably because Dennis was sorry they’d gotten into it in the first place, and Travis would want him to be sorry for the reason behind it all.

Travis thought Dennis was confusing, but Dennis felt it was the other way around. After all, it was Travis who wouldn’t quit working for John Gordon. It was Travis who wanted to meet the rest of Dennis’s family. After everything Dennis had told him, Travis had to be out of his mind. And that terrified Dennis.

Maybe it seemed wrong to think that if Travis--and god willing, he wouldn’t--came out to the Gordons, they’d look at Dennis and develop their suspicions. But then, that was an easy scenario for Dennis to imagine because it was all too familiar to him. But he was afraid because if it happened, there was no question regarding how Travis would be treated, and it wasn’t as if Lyle didn’t already hate him. Dennis figured that all Lyle needed to do something stupid was an excuse, and it didn’t even have to be a good one.

Dennis couldn’t apologize because it would be completely empty on his part. Something about that made him sad, but he was willing to accept things for what they were. Still, though, he answered the phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone days without hearing from Travis, but it was the first time he’d felt the silence so heavily.

“Hello?”

“Hey. You wanna come let me in?”

Dennis digested the question; so casual. So expected when it came to Travis Beltnick. And more relieving than he wanted to think about.

“Okay,” he said numbly, and then without thinking about it, hung up his phone. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around the darkness, as if he half expected someone to be there to tell him what to do next. He didn’t seem to function well half-asleep and in shock. He stood, headed for the bathroom, and then stopped himself when he realized he was about to check himself in the mirror like an overexcited school girl. A hand run over his head smoothed his hair well enough, and if it didn’t, he decided that it would have to be good enough. A glance down to make sure he was still wearing his grey jogging pants and not something that would frighten Mrs. Chesley if she happened to be up, and he was ready to go. Up the stairs. Around the corner. To the door.

He looked out the peephole.

Yep, Travis. Not that he’d have reason to believe it was anyone else. But, what did he want?

Another moment passed, and Dennis debated how to present himself. Should he be angry? He didn’t feel angry. But all things considered, maybe he should look the part. No. Probably not. He should... he should just...

Open the door. That would be a good place to start. He did slowly. No sense in making himself look too eager. But he was worried that he looked scared out of his mind when Travis looked up at him from the bottom of the stairs.

It seemed like Dennis could never quite come up with enough reasons to think Travis Beltnick the most irritating person in the world. Currently, the reason had a lot to do with how the guy looked completely comfortable standing at his door in the middle of the night, as if he thought he belonged there, even after everything that had been said. If he was nervous, it didn’t show, and Dennis couldn’t help wondering what that particular emotion looked like on him. Nervous. He’d love to make Travis Beltnick nervous. Wasn’t sure why, exactly, but the whole idea appealed to him. Too bad there didn’t seem to be any chance of it in the immediate future as Travis moved up the stairs until they were toe-to-toe in the doorway.

“Can I come in?” Travis asked.

Dennis stepped aside, not trusting himself to speak. Why are you here? It seemed like a good question. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to ask it. It would probably come out all wrong and they’d be fighting again. Dennis didn’t feel like fighting.

Maybe Travis didn’t either. He stepped into the house, but there he paused, standing sideways next to Dennis, close enough to reach out and brush his fingers over Dennis’s knuckles, beckoning him to shut the door and follow as he made his way all too comfortably around the corner and down the stairs, stopping halfway when Dennis flicked the lights off. Not because he couldn’t see; Travis had made it down those stairs plenty of times in the dark. His reason for waiting became clear enough when Dennis caught up to him and he reached out, this time holding the fingers he touched as he continued on his way. In the dark. Where no one could see them. Holding hands. It was the only time Dennis would ever allow it. He knew Travis knew it. So why was he there?

And that, Dennis Gordon realized, was what had been keeping him up at night more than the absence of the body he’d become used to. It was wondering if that body would be back if the person it belonged to couldn’t deal with it. When it came down to it, Dennis knew that he was lonely. It was confusing for him, since even after growing up with more people to keep him company than he cared for, he’d thought he enjoyed aspects of being a loner. Spending time with Owen every now and then had been enough. Mr. And Mrs. Chesley. Reilly. But then Travis had wormed his way into the picture, and he wasn’t like any of them. While he wouldn’t have thought it possible a few weeks ago, he’d developed a certain comfort level with Travis that seemed impossible to imitate with anyone else. Who knew, maybe it was because Travis had seen him naked. But then, sex was only a bonus in the equation. Dennis didn’t like the thought of losing any of it, but he didn’t see much of a choice. He couldn’t bend on certain things. Eventually, Travis would get too exhausted with it to stick around, and Dennis thought it might be better sooner than later. But Travis was there. And sooner suddenly seemed inconvenient.

Not bothering to pull away when Travis’s hand slipped out of his own to reach up his forearm, Dennis followed him into the room, still waiting for him to say something. It was rare when Travis lacked for something to say. When it happened, Dennis tended to think too much about the silence until Travis did something completely aggressive, like when he suddenly kissed him before they reached the bed. Dennis tried to kiss him back; it seemed like the natural thing to do. But, being unable to shut down the thoughts running through his mind quickly proved to be a problem and he pulled back, even as Travis became persistent enough to land them both on the bed and reach for Travis’s drawstring.

“Take off your pants,” Travis insisted, seemingly oblivious to Dennis’s uncertainty as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Dennis did no such thing. “Why are you here?” There. That was the question that needed answering.

Unfortunately, Travis didn’t share this opinion. “Why aren’t you taking off your pants?”

Dennis shook his head, incredulous, as he stopped Travis’s hands from reaching for him. “Aren’t we fighting?”

“Think so. But it’s two in the morning. I’m in your bed. You’d better be at least thinking about taking off your pants.” He reached for the drawstring again.

“Travis!” Dennis snapped, but didn’t get much further than that when Travis suddenly leaned forward until his mouth fell over Dennis’s again, his tongue initiating the only tension he wanted between them at the moment.

“We’re fighting. Fine. But not right now. Right now, I miss you.” Travis paused to shrug. “You can be pissed off again tomorrow.”

Dennis opened his mouth again, feeling the need to have this conversation now, but then Travis kissed him again, and suddenly waiting for tomorrow to feel the anxiety pitted in his stomach didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

***

Saturday, 11:13 a.m.

He was about to close a deal. They wanted the truck. The husband did, at least. Travis would convince the wife. Why did she need something with excellent gas mileage when she could watch all her favorite romances in the built-in DVD players from any one of the four screens that she wanted? Okay. Maybe she wasn’t that easy. But she was a nice lady convinced that the commission he’d make would help him get through college. Travis had decided not to mention that he wasn’t in college. It didn’t matter, anyway. As long as she believed it and he got his bonus. What did matter, was that he was about to lose it to some new kid on standby.

“Travis.”

His smile fading the moment he turned away from his potential buyers, Travis shot a look towards John Gordon, who was watching him with his arms crossed. Travis had spotted him stalking about fifteen minutes ago, but wasn’t surprised given the old man had been after him all day, ever since he saw Dennis drop Travis off for work that morning.

Failed marriage or not, John Gordon seemed convinced that uniting with his wife over the future of their youngest son was his current mission in life, and when he’d become aware that Travis was going to play no part in it, he’d become curious about the time his employee was spending with his son. Travis had found it downright annoying over the last week, especially when he’d done his best not to call Dennis earlier in the week after their argument. He’d told himself that distance was a good idea for both of them... for the whole two days that it lasted. He’d been on his way home from a party and couldn’t seem to help himself from making it to the Chesleys’ door. He’d been good with Dennis ever since, provided the topic of Beth Gordon’s engagement party didn’t come up. Travis had been damn careful not to bring it up, and he’d had common sense enough not to mention their argument, either. If he brought that up, he had a bad feeling that he’d end up apologizing, and there was no way in hell he wanted to do that.

Travis had no problem when it came to being a jerk. It was feeling like a jerk that he had issues with, especially when he didn’t see why he should be feeling the part in the first place. Maybe it was karma. It was as good an explanation as any. Owen Dovan had taken a chance on him and got hurt for it. Maybe Travis really had caused the whole situation with Owen. Maybe it wasn’t the first time someone had been hurt because he wasn’t available enough. Maybe, it was only fitting that when he finally found someone he wanted to be available for, the guy couldn’t return his feelings.

The stupid thing was, Travis thought, that Dennis’s problem had nothing to do with feelings. He liked Travis. End of subject. Travis refused to believe otherwise at this point, so that left the question of just how much Dennis liked him. And it wasn’t like he wanted Dennis to declare to the whole world that they were sleeping together. That, after all, would be hypocritical, given his recent fight with Kyle.

But he did want something. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, just like he didn’t know why he was spending so much time on a guy who could pass for his polar opposite. It wasn’t like he couldn’t look elsewhere for company. He’d probably have an easier time of things elsewhere. He could be standing naked in the middle of the jailhouse and he’d still be scratching his head as to why Dennis Gordon was still more appealing to him than anyone else who might not seem so ashamed to be near him. He sure as hell wouldn’t be putting up with a nosy father if he could just turn his attention in another direction.

But then, that wasn’t going to happen, since Travis had firmly decided that Dennis Gordon had somehow become his boyfriend. There was just no other explanation for why he was still around after an argument. Still dealing. Travis didn’t deal; he walked away. Usually permanently. Boyfriend. Yep. And Dennis was going to damn well deal with it when he got around to telling him, he thought as he plastered a smile on his face to momentarily excuse himself from his buyers and made his way over to John Gordon.

“Are you kidding me?” Travis grumbled when he reached the old man. “I’m about to close this.”

“Let Miles finish it up,” John stated. “I need you to come with me.”

“Fuck that. Miles couldn’t sell an egg to a baker. I’m going back.” Travis turned back, coming up short and more aggravated than he cared to be when he saw that the new, blond pretty boy was already working the customers. His customers. Travis shot John a look. “That commission’s mine. And what do you want?”

John Gordon held up a list of what looked like errands. “You’re driving.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t even have a license. You know I don’t have a license, right? If you’re gonna get drunk in the middle of the day, find someone else to be your chauffeur. I’ve already got a job.”

“Not if you don’t take these keys,” John Gordon said, even as he held a set up.

Travis frowned. He hadn’t been feeling very happy lately, and when Travis wasn’t happy, he tended to hold the belief that it was time to make a change in his life. Packing up and leaving, which would have seemed like a fine idea before he moved to this town was out of the question. But then, walking away from a job that was becoming more of an inconvenience than a necessity was beginning to appeal to him more and more. He imagined it would make Dennis happy. And, it wasn’t like he wasn’t making a little money off the club. It would be enough to get by until he found something else, and if he was a little late paying Sara’s bills he could live with that. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. So, running purely on impulse, Travis bypassed his usual argument that John Gordon would never fire him and simply shrugged. “Fine. You’ve got my address. Send the last check there. And make sure that commission’s on it,” he said, nodding towards his lost sale.

The perplexed look on Mr. Gordon’s face would have been enough to make him laugh if he weren’t in such a foul mood, so instead he walked away. Unfortunately, just like most Gordons, John seemed to be under the impression that walking away from him was unacceptable. His fingers pinched Travis’s shoulder, turned him back around. Travis bit his lip. Hard. To distract himself from the pleasant idea of dropping the old man right then and there.

“Take the keys,” John insisted. “And I’ll give you everything Miles made today.”

Travis thought that over. “What did he make?”

“That sale,” John replied, nodding once again towards Travis’s customers. Travis rolled his eyes, but snatched the keys out of John Gordon’s fingers. “You’re a prick,” he mumbled, and spent the next two hours running Dennis’s father around town. Mostly, Travis waited in the car while John stopped in on his friends and ate a late lunch. Travis wasn’t invited to lunch. John was convinced that more would come out of his mouth than go in. He was probably right. Travis was having all sorts of issues with running his mouth; it was like he couldn’t quite control what was coming out of it. John had stopped talking to him just because he was sick of the snide remarks that everything seemed to provoke and the way Travis cussed out two drivers that got in his way was even too much for an old man who was used to complaining about everything.

Travis figured he should have just quit when he said he was going to, especially when he realized the reason why he couldn’t bring himself to have even a little fun with the situation was once again, Dennis. And the way John kept looking at him... or rather, the way Travis was imagining how John was looking at him. No one had ever accused Travis Beltnick of not having an active imagination. But still, he was positive it was there on the old man’s face. Curiosity that he had no business having. Curiosity that could very likely throw Dennis over the edge.

This thing with Dennis, it was new for Travis. He didn’t quite know what it was, exactly. But he knew he felt protective of it. He felt insecure, and quite frankly, wanted to beat the crap out of anything that might be a threat to it. Like John Gordon. Like all the Gordons, including Dennis, who at times seemed like the greatest threat of all. Maybe that’s why it seemed so important for him to crash Beth Gordon’s engagement party, he mused. He wanted to prove something to the guy who could up and leave him at any moment just because he was scared. The jerk.

The jerk who Travis wanted to call. Just a three-minute conversation with Dennis might work wonders. Ever since they’d argued Travis had been feeling uneasy--but only when Dennis wasn’t around. It was irritating, the way his insecurities would surface and then fade away just as quickly when he saw or spoke to the guy. Lately Travis had just been showing up at the Chesleys’ after dark. Dennis was always there. It seemed like a guarantee. But today he wanted to call. He wanted to make plans. Maybe a walk through the park. Long one. Maybe they’d talk. Maybe Dennis would bring up his mom’s engagement party. It was tomorrow night, and while Travis was beginning to have second thoughts, he was still determined to go. Maybe Dennis would bring it up. Maybe Travis would bring up a few things, too. He wanted to call.

But not when he was sitting in a car with John Gordon. That simply wouldn’t do. The old man had to go.

“We need to head back now,” Travis announced, doing so without permission; there were a few benefits to being behind the wheel.

John sat up in his seat, looking irritated. “I’m not finished yet.”

“Then drive yourself,” Travis stated. “I have to get going.”

Mr. Gordon smirked. “Big plans tonight?”

Travis shrugged. “Maybe.”

“With who?” John wanted to know, but he sounded too curious for Travis’s tastes.

“Not you,” Travis replied.

John frowned, looked out the window for a few minutes, and then turned his gaze on Travis again.

“You’re not one of those funny boys, are you?”

Travis caught John’s meaning, but he didn’t bite. “If I couldn’t at least make people laugh I wouldn’t have half the friends I do now.”

John rolled his eyes and took a moment to slip a piece of gum in his mouth that filled the whole car with the overwhelming scent of peppermint. “I’ll need you to work late tomorrow.”

Travis shook his head. “I’ve gotta be out by two. I do have plans tomorrow.”

“Cancel them,” John stated, beginning to sound annoyed. “I’ve got a deal in the works and I need that smart mouth of yours.”

Travis smacked his lips as if something distasteful was between them. “My mouth is busy until Monday. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’ll be any more interesting than what you’re offering. But I still can’t cancel. Wouldn’t wanna disappoint your wife.”

Even before he’d finished spitting those words out of his mouth, Travis knew that saying them wasn’t going to help when it came to staying low-key around John Gordon. But then, since he was already there, he didn’t see the harm in enjoying himself just a little bit over the old man’s stunned silence, which didn’t waste any time in coming, along with an incredulous look in his direction.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your wife’s engagement party’s tomorrow. Guess she forgot to invite you, huh?”

“You’re invited?”

“Well, what matters is that I’m going. This is sort of one of those things my mind is made up about, so don’t bother calling until Monday.”

Travis frowned to himself as he realized that statement was completely true. He hadn’t even bothered to try talking himself out of it, and he wondered if Dennis expected him to at the last moment. He wondered if he should. It would certainly fix the remaining tension between them. For the moment. But he couldn’t help wondering about the next time Dennis expected him to fade into the background. Leave it all alone. It just wasn’t Travis. At this point it already felt like he was bending over backwards trying not to tell John Gordon that he was fucking his youngest son on a nightly basis and he liked it. And he wouldn’t tell. But only because that was Dennis’s business, too, and Dennis had a say in the matter. He supposed that he just wished Dennis trusted him enough to know that. This dinner at the Gordons’ might show him, Travis thought. Maybe it would show Dennis that his family was nothing to be afraid of, too.

“She can’t have an engagement party because she’s not engaged,” John suddenly blurted, pulling Travis from his thoughts. “She’s still married. Can’t be engaged, too.”

“You’re divorcing her,” Travis reminded. “I don’t think there’s any law against her being engaged. Unless the guy’s her brother? He’s not, is he? Wouldn’t be surprised. She seems freaky like that.”

“Travis.”

“Just saying, is all. And if you ask me, which, let’s face it, you did the second you mentioned her, you could do better... and that’s not easy for me to admit.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “Shut your face and drive,” he ordered, and while Travis was tempted to do otherwise just to aggravate the man, he decided to do as he was told for his own benefit. They were almost to the dealership, and he was pretty sure he could catch the next bus if he hurried. That would get him face to face with Dennis at least twenty minutes faster, and suddenly, it seemed very important to see him. Unfortunately, John Gordon didn’t see any reason to follow his own advice and distracted Travis enough to miss the next traffic light when he said, “Dennis won’t go to that. No reason for you to go without him, is there? In fact, the way you’ve been spending so much time with my boy lately makes me figure he’d be pissed to all hell at you for even walking through that front door.”

Travis, who was often dependent on a straight face, couldn’t seem to control the way his mouth turned down, and since he could feel John watching him, the even tone in his voice seemed a little less than worthless. “He wouldn’t care either way.”

“Bullshit. You don’t think I know how he’d eat through his own arm if it got him away from his family? It makes me wonder why he’d be spending any time with you at all. Care to enlighten me?”

“Not particularly.”

Besides, Travis thought, he couldn’t exactly explain it to anyone when Dennis hadn’t even bothered to explain it to him.

Sunday, 10:12 a.m.

When Dennis Gordon was twelve years old he’d asked for a new dresser to replace the one decorated in cartoon characters that any boy of his age who wasn’t a downright pussy would have grown out of. His mother had agreed right away; a perfect opportunity to shop. He hadn’t cared to go with her. As long as she brought something back that his friends would stop laughing at, he’d be happy. But, with his mom being his mom, the choice to stay home was left out of his hands and he was hauled straight out the door and into the mall. It wasn’t a horrible day, as he recalled. He got some new clothes out of the deal and a video game he’d been after--the same one he’d grown tired of after two days.

He remembered unloading his clothes from the old dresser to the new one just after they arrived home, as per his mother’s request. He was halfway through the chore when his dad came home and found out what they’d been up to all day. There was no objection to the clothes, or even the stupid game. So, for the life of him, Dennis never understood why his father found it so necessary to drag the new dresser right out of his room and into the garage to become a new tool chest. Either earn the money to buy one yourself, or build it. That’s what his father had told him. Being twelve years old, and feeling strongly that he had no time to do either of these things, Dennis was all set to forget the whole thing before his mother decided a project would be fun and forced Lyle to help him build the furniture he then regretted requesting.

Lyle didn’t help, of course. He sat in the garage telling Dennis what an idiot he was. Dennis only let it get to him a little bit, and in the end, he built himself something that gave him splinters every time he went to open a drawer. But, it was still a masterpiece. A masterpiece, because he learned that just like football, taking control of something and building it up with his own two hands came with a sense of satisfaction that was his alone. He felt the same satisfaction when it came to the five chairs he’d put together with Owen Dovan. Like the dresser, there was nothing perfect about them, but it wasn’t so much the chairs that he found satisfying, as he helped Owen load them into the back of the blond’s black truck. It was something else entirely, like the comfort he’d felt when he knocked on the door, a far cry from the awkwardness he would have felt not so long ago when approaching the Dovans’ house. He had a friend. A friend he’d worked to make. True, Owen might have put a little more into their relationship than he had, but Dennis felt that not pushing him away was something enough to be proud of. And while he knew that the fact had definitely popped up in his mind on occasion, Dennis had decided that he didn’t mind so much that his friend happened to be gay. And didn’t seem to mind who knew about it. Even if Dennis still thought it was a mistake.

Still, though.

That was Owen. Dennis was okay with Owen. So he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t have the same amount of tolerance for Travis.

Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Dennis knew exactly what the problem was. There was a huge difference between Owen and Travis. For one thing, Dennis couldn’t ever recall having the slightest interest in unbuttoning Owen’s pants with his teeth. Just his personal preference, is all. But it was more than that. More and more lately being with Travis felt like being with Travis. He didn’t know how to get around that. Didn’t know if he wanted to. But that was the problem, and sooner or later it would come with consequences. Maybe in just a few hours if Travis was really about going through with being the world’s biggest dumbass. Ever.

Seriously, the guy had no business walking into his mother’s engagement party. And Dennis was pretty sure that the only reason he was so hellbent on doing it was because he was stubborn. Obnoxiously stubborn. And an asshole. Definitely an asshole, because Dennis was convinced that the only reason Travis was doing this was to spite him. He wasn’t sure what for, but he couldn’t imagine any other reason why the guy would want to march into the Gordons’ house. With or without him. With him, Dennis imagined there would be a lot of unpleasantness. Without him... well, why? Why would Travis do something like that? Dennis didn’t really want to think about it. Every time he did, he didn’t like where it took him. Hi, Mrs. Gordon. Love the cheesecake. Could you pass the iced tea? Oh, and in case I haven’t mentioned it, I’ll be having sex with your son tonight. Do you think that’s anything like swimming? Should I wait thirty minutes first? I think he’d be disappointed if I got a cramp. Yep. That definitely sounded like something that would come out of Travis’s mouth. Maybe if Dennis punched him in it they could avoid the whole thing.

Damn it. What the fuck was he trying to do, anyway?

“Are you even listening to me?” Owen asked.

“No. I mean, yeah,” Dennis quickly blurted as he looked across the bed of the truck to where the blond was standing. Owen frowned. Dennis sighed. “I’m sorry. What?”

Owen shook his head, looking half amused, half concerned. “Just wondering where you went, is all. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Are you sure you want me to take these?” Dennis asked, nodding towards the chairs.

Owen smiled. “Chris wants the garage back. Something about his car needing a place to sleep. Besides, you’re gonna need furniture soon, aren’t you?”

Dennis shrugged. He’d mentioned his desire to find his own place earlier that morning when Owen had called and asked him if he wanted the chairs. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re the one who pretty much made them anyway. Hey--think you’ll need a couch? We never got rid of the last one. It’s taking up space in the spare bedroom. Yours if you want it. Just let me know.”

Dennis mumbled an awkward thanks that was entirely noncommittal, and then cleared his throat. “Did you wanna head these over to the Chesleys’ now?”

Owen shrugged. “I’m not in a hurry. Wanna hang out for a while? I think I’m skipping work today.”

“Actually... I was hoping we could get this thing done.”

Owen looked surprised. “You need to be somewhere?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Dennis swallowed a sigh and shook his head.

“Sorry. It’s just, I might have something going on today. Later. But soon. Maybe.” Oh no you don’t, the side of Dennis’s brain that he considered reasonable was quick to protest. Don’t even think about it. He was not going to that party. End of subject.

Unless, of course, it was to keep Travis out of trouble. Might become necessary.

No.

“What do you have going on?” Owen asked.

“Nothing,” Dennis said quickly.

Owen shook his head. “You’re acting weird. Even for you.”

“What do you mean, even for me?”

“I dunno. Always thought you were weird, I guess.”

“I thought you always thought I was disturbed.”

“That, too. Anyway, before you take off, I meant to ask if you’ve heard from Travis.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I know you’ve heard from him. You guys hang out, right? I mean, you don’t have to say if it makes you uncomfortable...”

“Why would it make me uncomfortable?” Dennis was quick to turn suspicious.

“Not that you hang out with Travis... I mean, it’s just I thought you could tell me...”

“Tell you what?”

“Has he said anything about me?”

“Oh.”

Owen frowned. “Shit. I knew it.”

“Huh?” Dennis watched Owen carefully, and if he hadn’t felt uncomfortable before, he certainly did now, watching the blond pace back and forth next to the tailgate of the truck.

“I fucked it up, didn’t I? Shit.” Owen seemed to be talking to himself now, which was why Dennis didn’t bother answering the question. “Can I ask you something?”

Dennis blinked. “Me?” Owen was looking skyward, and Dennis needed confirmation that he hadn’t gone all spiritual on him.

“Would you want nothing to do with me if I kissed you?” Owen had barely looked at Dennis before he cringed at his own question and slapped himself in the forehead. “Wait. Don’t answer that... I didn’t mean... what I meant to say is...If you were gay... wait...”

“I don’t think Travis is trying to avoid you,” Dennis said carefully, trying to help. Besides, even in a hypothetical situation, he didn’t like the attention on himself.

“It’s not that I think he’s avoiding me,” Owen replied. “He actually came to talk to me... and I don’t get it. There were signals there. At least I thought there were, so...”

“Maybe it’s not about you,” Dennis said. He didn’t want to think about Owen and signals. Especially when those signals supposedly came from Travis. Besides, he’d told Travis to fix this. Why the hell wasn’t it fixed? And why was Owen looking at him as if he’d struck on a nerve with those words.

“Then what would it be about?” Owen snapped, though Dennis knew the harsh tone wasn’t directed at him. “I’m the one who made an ass of myself. I’m the one who’s been hung up on Aiden so bad that I probably scared Travis away.”

Dennis made a sound that wasn’t quite laughter, though he found that entirely amusing. “I don’t think that would bother Travis... and if you’re hung up on Aiden, why would you...”

“Because,” Owen said tiredly. “I’m tired of being hung up on Aiden.”

Dennis frowned. “Oh.” He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete jackass. If he voiced an opinion, he’d probably say something along the lines of It’s about time, or Good riddance, Knightly. Somehow, he had a feeling that Owen wouldn’t appreciate that, despite what he claimed to be tired of.

“Travis was supposed to be... I don’t know.” Owen sighed helplessly. “Sometimes I think I have this problem, you know? Not going after the things I want.”

“Travis is what you want?” Dennis heard the question leave his mouth, and recoiled at it. He didn’t really want to hear the answer to that. Honestly, the entire situation was making him uncomfortable. The fact that it was his own fault only made it worse.

Dennis lived his life in hiding. He wasn’t sure he knew any other way. But suddenly, the idea of Travis Beltnick looking like a cold jackass didn’t sit well with him. After all, the reason Travis was quickly becoming a villain in Owen’s eyes was because Dennis was hiding... and Travis was helping him do it.

And suddenly, Dennis wondered which of them were on the bigger side of wrong for it.

“I don’t know,” Owen admitted. “It just kinda sucks that I can’t find out, ‘cause I swear he...”

“Maybe... it’s not that he was trying to lead you on,” Dennis said quietly. “Maybe something’s changed for him.” Like some jackass who sleeps with guys and says he likes women told him he wasn’t allowed to kiss anyone else. Maybe before Dennis had even said it, Travis had known. Maybe Travis hadn’t been interested in Owen for a reason other than not wanting Owen to end up hurt in the end. If that was the case, it’s not like Dennis had made it easy for Travis to say so.

“Like what?” Owen asked, and then shook his head to himself. “You know, him and Aiden...”

“I don’t think so,” Dennis said quickly. He didn’t even want to hear where that was going. “But maybe... maybe there is someone else.”

Owen frowned. “I don’t know. I get the feeling if there was anyone other than Aiden, Travis would have no problem letting me know.”

Wanna bet? Dennis felt like he’d just shrunk another foot. Definitely his fault that Travis was the bad guy.

“Maybe,” Dennis said cautiously. “Or maybe... he wouldn’t. If, whoever it is didn’t want him to tell anyone.”

“What do you mean? Like who....” his words came to halt when he met Dennis’s eyes, his blond brow lifting halfway across his forehead.

Dennis felt his stomach drop from underneath him. He’d tried to keep a straight face, but the fact that he could no longer meet the blond’s eyes didn’t seem to bode well as Owen’s expression became more quizzical by the moment.

Dennis felt his eyes drift closed. His brow knit. It’s okay, he told himself. It’s just Owen. Of all the people in the world to know, it was just Owen.

“Yeah,” Owen suddenly said, his tone even, careful. “I guess that could be it.”

Dennis opened his eyes, lifted his gaze to the way the corner of Owen’s mouth had turned up, his expression giving nothing more away.

Owen Dovan was his friend. And Dennis doubted he could ever have doubts about that after this.

Sunday, 3: 18 p.m.

It was starting to cloud up when Dennis navigated his car to the side of the road, waited for the stubborn jackass in the formal jacket to notice him, and honked the horn twice when he didn’t. Travis looked over his shoulder twice before seeming to realize that he really was looking at Dennis, and turned back towards the vehicle, bending over to peer in the passenger window while Dennis looked him over.

Travis was not the formal-wear kind of guy. His shirt was too small, making every inch of muscle on him appear unnecessarily bulky, and the careless way he wore his hair clashed terribly with his entire ensemble. His smile, however, seemed to fit into any situation, and it glowed now as he got a closer look at Dennis, who unlike Travis, looked completely at ease in something other than a t-shirt and jeans.

“What the hell is this?” Travis wanted to know.

Dennis sighed. “On the off chance that you were actually going to go through with this... I thought I’d come this way and show you how these Gordon parties are really done.”

“Oh yeah?”

Dennis glanced out the front window, shoulders becoming decisive, and then turned back to Travis. “First thing to know, you should never be late. Which you are, so get in.”

Travis crossed his arms, his initial grin turning into suspicion. “And if I do... how do I know you’re not going to just turn the car around?”

Dennis shrugged. “Fine. I guess I’ll see you when you get there.” He only needed to take his foot off the brake for a second before Travis was practically sliding across the hood of his car and moving into the passenger seat. He didn’t wait to be told to buckle up.

Dennis was silent as he moved onto the road again. He felt like the car was going faster than it was, and it prickled his nerves as they passed the Chesleys’ and grew closer and closer to the house he grew up in.

“Hey, Dennis?” Travis said in all seriousness. “You’re not going to regret this.”

Dennis was silent for a moment, and then, “The second thing you should know... I’m not doing this for me.”