In the Fishbowl - 26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

No need for a second opinion here. Travis Beltnick couldn’t stand Lyle Gordon.

Everything about Dennis’s older brother irritated him. From the way Lyle looked disapprovingly at his brother, to the way the guy chewed his food. Everything about him provoked violent thoughts that seemed out of Travis’s control as he imagined what Lyle would look like roasted and folded as neatly over the dinner table as the roasted pig was. And speaking of the pig... well, that was just morbid, and there was no way Travis had any intention of eating anything that still had eyes. Things had been set up as more of a casual buffet than a sit-down dinner, so he’d picked up a piece of fish instead, which he hadn’t even bothered to pick at as he carried it around on a little plastic plate.

“How’s the salmon, Travis?” Beth Gordon asked as she passed by on another trip to the liquor cabinet. He watched her as she poured a drink, frowning. He could smell her five feet away, and he was beginning to understand just how easy her entire family made it for people like Leo to pick on their drinking.

“Perfect,” he replied without feeling as he glanced across the room to where Dennis had been wangled into a fluffy-looking love seat with his grandmother. There was a stoic expression on his face as he gave short nods every so often, opened his mouth to respond to aspects conversation aimed in his direction. His posture was relaxed, he made a reasonable amount of eye contact, and for all intents and purposes he appeared to be the perfect guest. But Travis wasn’t fooled, because just like his mother, it wasn’t fruit punch in his glass. Dennis is perfect, Travis mused. The perfect liar.

Everyone, his grandparents in particular, seemed oblivious to the fact that Dennis had become estranged from his family . It seemed clear that Beth Gordon had woven a story about everyone getting along just fine now that Dennis had come to his senses, was taking the path necessary to one day take over the family business, and was moving back home where he belonged. Travis had been standing next to Dennis when he’d tried to correct this story, but one look from his mother and he’d rethought it.

It surprised Travis so much that he’d opened his mouth to do what Dennis wouldn’t, but Dennis’s elbow had stopped him. At a loss, Travis had watched while grandpa followed grandma around, sure to top off her drink when it was needed, and grandma, who probably weighed seventy-eight pounds soaking wet, picked on her daughter’s weight at every opportunity before she had cornered Dennis some time ago. Travis had walked away around the time she broke out an entire album dedicated to single young women who would be just perfect for her grandson.

So this wasn’t what he’d expected at all, and the more time he spent in the company of these people, the more he became bothered by all of them.

But the most bothersome thing of all, brought Travis right back to Lyle Gordon. He really didn’t like him. But it was more than just Lyle’s personality, and Travis had no trouble putting his finger right on the problem. He wasn’t good people. Lyle was angry, and cold, and so stuck in it that Travis felt on the defensive every time he looked at the guy, and it had to do with more than the way Lyle had been staring him down all afternoon. For example at the moment, Travis wasn’t the one on the receiving end of that stare, and he couldn’t have been more annoyed if he had been. What the fuck was the deal with Lyle and his brother?

Whatever this was, it seemed one-sided. Every once in a while, Dennis would look up, see the look on his brother’s face, and then turn away. It only pissed Travis off more. When Lyle had the nerve to look pleased over his brother’s passiveness, which he was obviously taking as a right to a power trip, Travis was reminded that he still owed Lyle Gordon for fucking with Dennis while he was out of town and couldn’t do anything about it.

Glancing towards the object of Lyle’s attention, Travis found Dennis looking miserable between his grandparents. He didn’t know what Beth Gordon’s mother was saying, but he hadn’t seen her do anything more than talk for the last half hour, and her focus seemed as set on Dennis as Lyle’s was. She even had the gall to wave away neighbors and friends Beth and her fiancé--who’d disappeared upstairs some time ago--had invited.

Travis supposed it was time to rescue Dennis. He’d feel guilty if he didn’t. He was, after all, responsible for where they were now. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so disappointed about the afternoon they’d spent in the Gordon house. He supposed he’d wanted to see the full force of what Dennis was so afraid of, but drunk, obnoxious relatives were just plain boring. Except for Lyle. Travis could admit that the way he was looking at Dennis... not so boring. And what the fuck was with that, anyway?

Travis narrowed his eyes, staring the older Gordon brother down so hard he was sure the guy must feel it, but Lyle’s eyes never wavered from Dennis, and as Travis’s frustration over it mounted he felt the plate in his hand fold, the fish on it becoming a flaky mess as it fell to the floor. He pretended it never happened and stepped carefully away from the mess, this time heading in the direction of the sofa where Dennis’s grandparents were holding him hostage.

He moved in a circle around the furniture, cutting off Lyle’s view momentarily, but even that had no effect as Lyle sipped his drink and tilted his head to look around Travis. Never one to like being invisible, Travis gritted his teeth, moved to the back of the sofa, placed a hand on it just to the right of Dennis’s shoulder and leaned forward, making it so obvious that he was glaring right back at Lyle that he might as well have sent up smoke signals.

Ha! Satisfied because that had done it, Travis felt his lip turn up into an unfriendly sneer as Lyle’s focus moved to him and the guy shifted his foot like a bull ready to charge. Much more like it, Travis decided. He supposed that normally he wouldn’t welcome anyone looking at him like that, but he quickly felt pleased that Lyle’s eyes were no longer aimed at Dennis.

Unfortunately, Travis seemed to be the only one that ecstatic about it.

A distinct throat clearing came from below him, and Travis forced himself to break off his stare with Lyle to find Dennis frowning at him.

“What?” Travis mouthed, not wanting to interrupt grandma. Dennis only narrowed his eyes before turning back to the old woman next to him. Travis took that as his cue to seek out Lyle again, but was disappointed when the older brother had vanished. Shrugging, he attempted to listen to what Dennis was listening to.

“It’s your father’s fault, of course,” she was saying. “He let you boys have your way too much growing up. Now you have to learn the facts of life the hard way, don’t you?” She patted Dennis’s knee, and Travis saw him cringe. “Just be glad you have your mother to help you get back on your feet. She’s obviously not very smart where this Peter is concerned, but I know she’ll always do right by her boys. Obviously she’s needed my help, mind you, with you and Lyle both staying here and your father not lifting a finger. Your grandfather and I have made sure this roof stays over your head, and we’ll continue to do so until you and Lyle realize that you could do more for your mother than John ever...”

Travis stopped listening as he stared at Dennis, wondering why he was putting up with this abuse. Travis would have felt a lot less guilty for him being in that situation if he bothered standing up for himself, because obviously, he wasn’t willing to let Travis do it for him. And the worst part of it was, Dennis didn’t just look irritated, there was something in his eyes that looked genuinely tired, sad even. Travis supposed the fact that the only reason the guy’s mother wanted him back was to guarantee a check from her parents was a good enough reason to be upset. Good enough reason to be pissed off, in fact.

“Your cousins are doing so well right now...” Grandma was saying now. “But it’s all about the parenting. I blame it on myself. Your mother’s the oldest. She shows her age, you know. I suppose I could have put my foot down with her more, and maybe...”

“Grandma,” Dennis suddenly interrupted. “I’ll... be right back.”

He’d caught Travis making faces behind the older woman’s back, and no doubt it had drawn attention from those who were now looking in their direction with odd looks on their faces.

When Dennis stood, Travis took his silent cue and moved towards the kitchen, Dennis not far behind him. They were heading away from the guests, and Travis decided that that meant there was about to be yelling. Good. There should be yelling. Only, in his opinion, it shouldn’t be directed at him.

But when it came to the anger he was feeling, Dennis Gordon wasn’t going to discriminate, and right now Travis seemed like the easiest target. This was all his fault, after all. He was the reason why Dennis felt effectively trapped by his family, why his head was pounding with a migraine as his grandmother’s insulting chatter echoed in his ears and the way his mother’s assessing looks made him uncomfortable in his own skin.

But more than all of that, at the moment Dennis blamed Travis for the way he was completely loathing himself, reduced to obedience and acceptance of lies meant to help someone he’d sworn he no longer gave a rat’s ass about. So much for proving anything gratifying to himself. And if all of that wasn’t enough to dwell on and worry about, he sure as hell did not need Travis Beltnick antagonizing his brother! Or anyone else in his family for that matter.

As soon as they reached the kitchen Dennis was ready to point all of this out, but came up short when he realized that they weren’t alone. Peter, who’d disappeared some time ago, had resurfaced and was plucking empty bottles that had once contained mass quantities of alcohol off the counters and dropping them into an oversized garbage bag. He looked up and regarded Dennis with a distasteful expression. “Is this what I can expect, marrying into this family?” he asked.

Dennis made no comment, only walked three feet in Peter’s direction, snatched what was left of a bottle of rum from the counter and headed back towards the stairs as he glared at Travis again.

Giving Peter a shrug, Travis followed, as Dennis knew he would, and as the two headed up the stairs Travis plucked the bottle from Dennis’s hand and passed it on to the first passing guest he could. Dennis gave him a dirty look over it, but didn’t have many objections as he instinctively turned towards the room he grew up in. The door was cracked open, hinting that the blinds to his window were pulled up as the fleeting sunlight outside made its way to his feet. He pushed the door open, stepped inside and became instantly still.

It felt stupid to be surprised over the fact that the room was empty. After all, most everything that had once been in it was now either unpacked or still in a small number of boxes in the Chesley’s basement. But still, he hadn’t stepped foot in here since the day he left, and somehow, it was suddenly so final. He’d been so convinced that he’d left his family. Reminded himself a thousand times. But this was what made him feel it. Really feel it.

The door he’d hidden behind so many times, the place that had become a refuge even after being repeatedly invaded when one person or another was disappointed in him, was no longer his. Dust his mother never would have tolerated had collected on the windowsill next to where his bed had been, and lines left by the vacuum still marked the carpet, hinting that he wasn’t the only one to abandon this particular room. Even the smell was different, like the smell of a classroom on the first day of school after an entire summer of nothingness between the walls. It made him sad, and he resented that.

Obviously picking up on the change in Dennis’s mood, Travis grabbed his elbow, led him away. Dennis followed, no longer willing to lead. He was at a loss of where he was supposed to go; what had led him up there in the first place. The fuel had left his fire, so to speak, and led him to confusion, especially when he found himself being pushed into a tidy, long white bathroom, Travis close on his heels. The door closed. Locked. Dennis met Travis’s eyes. They were annoyed. Dennis frowned at that, a pesky feeling that he should be the one feeling that way nagging at him.

“Do me a favor,” Travis said suddenly, moving closer, his hands pushing at Dennis’s shoulders.

Dennis was still waiting to hear what favor he was being asked for when he met the counter behind him, and Travis started pushing at his wrists.

“Sit on your hands,” Travis insisted, but then, he’d already made it so with his fast pushing.

By the time Travis was kissing Dennis, Dennis was wondering why he was locked in a bathroom, sitting in front of the sink with his hands underneath him. Still upset. Maybe he needed to reevaluate why that was. But thinking wasn’t easy while Travis was kissing him. Sometimes that happened.

No. Lately it was most of the time. He felt he could admit that. Not to Travis, of course, no sense in making his head any bigger than it already was. But his hands... why the fuck would Travis want him to sit on those? Usually the guy had much more creative plans for them. But then it occurred to Dennis why Travis wouldn’t want him to have use of them.

Specifically, his fists.

Maybe he thought Dennis would hit him. That begged the question: what reason did Dennis have to do exactly that? By Dennis’s count, there was more than one. As it occurred to him where he was, Dennis found his balance, and as he moved away from the counter he placed a hand on Travis’s chest, pushing him back. He surprised himself when it came to how gentle he was about it. He could only guess it was because he’d realized that Travis looked just as upset as he was feeling.

No. That wasn’t quite right either. Travis looked... beyond upset. Distraught even. Definitely more frustrated than Dennis ever remembered seeing him, even beating out the day Travis’s past had been unceremoniously revealed in front of people he would have rather shielded it from. So upset, that Dennis felt defensive as he demanded, “What?”

Travis made a frustrated gesture, his jaw clamped so tightly that Dennis swore he heard teeth grinding. “Where the hell are you?” Travis demanded.

“What?” Dennis repeated, this time because he was confused.

Travis made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, wasn’t quite a grunt. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair, some of the dark strands standing on end in protest from it. It seemed like a very long time before he met Dennis’s eyes again, and when he did Dennis Gordon discovered what Travis Beltnick looked like when he was truly angry.

“You know, I get it now,” Travis said, an edge to his tone. “I’m sorry--that I wanted you to come here. Figured I would be, but I could’ve sworn you would’ve... you... I thought it was so important for you to skip this because these people make you miserable, and because you didn’t trust me--which, you didn’t,” he added resentfully before he continued. “But now... I seriously fucking get it. You hate being around them because you completely disappear.”

Dennis, not quite understanding but feeling insulted nonetheless, returned Travis’s hostile glare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means stop letting your mom drag you around by the balls and stand up for yourself--or at least let me do it for you. Please. I’m dying over here, and you’re not letting me talk shit to anyone!”

“Dying,” Dennis repeated, mocking the exasperation he’d heard in Travis’s voice. “Why? What did you think would happen here? Did you think it would be fun?” Travis only crossed his arms, and while it shouldn’t have been, the realization hit Dennis by surprise. “Of course you did,” he said, shaking his head, incredulous. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use,” Travis said. “But I hoped... you know, this isn’t even supposed to be about you and your family, but you’re making it that way. You’re always acting like you don’t give a damn what anyone thinks, so why bend over backwards to help people lie about you? Your mom’s using you, you know, and instead of sticking up to her...”

“So what?” Dennis snapped. He felt himself getting worked up. He didn’t want to talk about his behavior. No need to look at that too closely. Chances are, he’d start agreeing with Travis. Dennis was convinced that no good would come of it. “You’re the one who wanted to come here.” There. It’s not like it wasn’t true, and he’d much rather focus on how all this was Travis’s fault... therefore, Travis didn’t have the right to complain, and Dennis wouldn’t have to think about what a pussy he was being.

“Not to watch you take it up the ass,” Travis countered. “We could have stayed home for that.”

Dennis found himself moving towards Travis in the confined space of the bathroom, a strong urge to bolt the guy’s mouth shut. But then, he had more control than that and stepped back.

“I’m not going to make a scene,” he said flatly.

“I did offer to do it for you,” Travis replied. “And I should so get points for asking permission first. You’re so fucking worried that I’ll embarrass you. What about the way this is embarrassing me?”

That question made so little sense to Dennis that he had no response for it, other than to stare at Travis like he’d lost his mind.

Travis waved a hand at Dennis’s expression before he explained. “Do you think for a second that I’d let anyone talk to my friends the way they’re talking to you?” he demanded. “Or you--would you let anyone treat the Chesleys that way? Owen? Humor me, okay? Imagine how I feel about it being you. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t feel fucking great if I knocked your brother on his ass, because I swear if I catch him looking at you that way one more time, I don’t care what you say, he’s...”

“Shut up.” Dennis said it, but suddenly his voice had lost all the heat behind it. If he’d been looking at Travis, he imagined he probably would have had a stupid, clueless look of some sort on his face, but as it was, he suddenly couldn’t look at Travis at all. “Is that what you mean--that it’s not supposed to be about my family? It’s supposed to be about you? You really think I didn’t want to show up here because I’m embarrassed by you?”

Travis blinked a few times, suddenly looking as uneasy as Dennis felt. His face had flushed, and he’d given his head a mild shake to make his bangs fall in his face, as if he planned to hide behind them. “Maybe.” He hesitantly met Dennis’s eyes. “Like I said before... how am I supposed to know how long it’s going to take you before you’re tired hiding out with me?”

“I’m here because of you,” Dennis snapped, feeling that should count for something.

“But you’re not here with me. You could be with a girl, and you like those, right?”

Taken aback, Dennis gave Travis a hard stare, and to his surprise the brunette became unexpectedly shaken right in front of him. Dennis frowned.

Nothing was supposed to bother Travis.

As much of a pain in the ass that was, Dennis had to admit that that was also the very reason why being with him could feel so damn easy. Something about seeing him on the verge of unraveling left Dennis troubled, and more than a little annoyed for it. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say, but Travis cut him off before he could.

“Look, this isn’t easy for me, okay? I get you’re afraid of what all of them think of you,” he said, waving at the door as he took an uncomfortable step closer to Dennis. “And don’t deny it.”

“I won’t,” Dennis replied, surprising him. “But that’s not the problem. The problem is you aren’t afraid of what they think.”

“What?”

“Do you ever listen to anything?” Dennis demanded. “People have gotten hurt, Travis. And stop bringing up women. If I wanted to be with one, I would be, and definitely not here. I’d also like to point out that you’ve given me plenty of reasons to get tired of you and I haven’t yet, so you don’t get to be the one who’s insecure! I will never be okay with holding your hand in public, but it’s not because I’m embarrassed, it’s because I’m safe, and if you can’t deal with it then you’re the one who needs to walk away. You should do it now.”

Dennis heard his own words ringing in his ears before he even got them out, and felt taken aback by them, even more by what he meant by saying them. He supposed on some level he’d known this conversation was coming, but this was definitely not the place where he’d planned on having it. His only comfort was that he sensed Travis felt the same way entirely. He was just as out of his comfort zone as Dennis was, and until then, Dennis hadn’t been entirely sure that Travis Beltnick’s comfort zone had even had boundaries. But then, again, Dennis wasn’t so sure it was a good thing that it apparently did, because now he was waiting for Travis to make a decision, and Dennis was unexpectedly afraid of what it would be.

Travis had learned early on in life that there were some things that couldn’t be taken back. But that had never prevented him from wishing he had a built-in rewind-button in his head. He’d use it to go back to the moments before he made mistakes that could ultimately change the course of his life. Those mistakes had happened more than he ever wanted to think about. He felt like he could very easily make one right now, trapped in this bathroom with Dennis Gordon.

Ironically enough, Travis had never expected Dennis to come out of his safe little closet. Never even planned to ask him to, and part of him resented himself when he realized that was exactly what he’d just done. But in the last few hours as he’d watched Dennis disappear, smothered by his family, it had been important to do so because if Dennis could disappear like that, it seemed more likely than ever that Dennis could disappear right out of Travis’s life, too.

And that wasn’t okay, because though he was as loath to admit it as he was sure Dennis was, there were feelings there. The kind that Travis, who avoided attachments for a reason, was perpetually terrified of. But he also knew the rarity of how he happened to feel about Dennis Gordon; the idea of the two of them becoming some unorthodox kind of... us. He knew why he stayed as far away from people like Owen Dovan, who put themselves in positions to get hurt, and he knew why he never wanted to be one of those people, but he also knew that was exactly what he’d become if he didn’t take Dennis up on his offer and walk out right then and there.

But Travis couldn’t. “I want to walk out of here with you,” he whispered, and Dennis raised an eyebrow, as if he couldn’t figure out if this was a response to his question, or if Travis was changing the subject, or both. In response, Dennis reached for the door, but then Travis continued, “But not until you tell them all to go to hell. Tell them they can’t walk all over you, because if you don’t they always will. I don’t expect you to be holding my hand when you do it,” he quickly added when he saw the dark look that crossed Dennis’s face. “But when you are hiding out with me, I don’t want you to be angry about it anymore.”

Travis watched as Dennis considered this, underlying emotions surfacing because he knew exactly what Travis was talking about. Travis was perfectly willing to be with Dennis, even if they never came out in the open about it. But when they were alone... well, that needed to be at least open enough between the two of them, and regardless of whether or not demanding that would affect whether or not they ever saw each other again, it had stopped being just sex a while ago, and Travis was ready to admit it. He needed Dennis to be too.

For a minute Travis began to wonder if they’d be trapped in the bathroom all night while Dennis made his decision. He’d be willing to wait it out. He hadn’t felt like he had so much riding on one little decision since the night his brother had pulled a gun out of their dresser drawer.

A part of him wanted to explain that to Dennis, but another part of him feared doing even that, not wanting to make himself more vulnerable than he already felt. But the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs had Dennis reaching for the door without another word, and sighing, Travis slowly followed him out of the bathroom, into the hall.

Lyle Gordon was standing at the end of it, the look on his face baffled when he saw the two of them, but Travis could hardly focus on him as he watched Dennis’s rigid shoulders, the way he moved past his brother without so much as looking at him... or looking back to see if Travis was even following him.

Obviously not interested in being ignored, Lyle turned when they were both past him. “Hey, were the two of you just...” he stopped, probably because Travis had lifted his middle finger over his shoulder just for Lyle, but since the older Gordon brother didn’t bother charging him for it, he felt safe enough to keep his focus on Dennis.

Dennis... who was still walking away. Travis couldn’t tell if it was away from him, and that left him unnerved as he slowed when they reached the living room, wondering if he should keep following Dennis into it, or if he should walk out the front door. Sometimes he simply wished that Dennis Gordon could be more blunt about things, instead of leaving him to wonder...

Travis didn’t want to walk all the way home by himself. In fact he didn’t want to go anywhere without Dennis, but suddenly he was afraid he’d have to. The scenario left him feeling... stupid. More alone than he wanted to, and unexpectedly clenching his fist, wishing his flashlight was in it... and he wanted to call someone.

He wanted to talk to someone about the hurt he was altogether unaccustomed to feeling because he didn’t know how to deal with it, and it hurt all the more knowing there wasn’t anyone he could talk to about any of this without betraying Dennis completely, and he resigned himself to the fact that he’d never be able to live with that regardless of what happened between them. But he could settle for finding Phil Clayton so he could kick his ass for ever putting him in the position of knowing Dennis Gordon in the first place.

But then Dennis Gordon was standing behind his mother while she laughed with two of her friends. His head turned, and his green eyes sought out Travis, and Travis’s perspective on what was currently happening changed completely.

Travis edged his way into the room, closer to Dennis, who only looked back to his mother when it seemed that Travis was close enough to... well, to be there, Dennis supposed as he cleared the knot in his throat. “Mom, I’m leaving.” And even while his voice hardly crawled above a whisper she turned around to look at him, eyes glazed over with intoxication as she cocked her head at him and smiled as if confused.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, the warning already creeping into her voice.

“I’m leaving,” Dennis said more firmly. “I’m not coming back.” He found his eyes drifting towards his grandparents, where they’d stopped to listen across the room, maybe because he wanted to make sure they heard him. Maybe because he didn’t want to meet his mother’s eyes. Probably a little bit of both.

“I don’t live here,” he announced. “I don’t work at the dealership... Travis does,” he added, if only to meet his dark eyes again. “Dad’s still an asshole, but he’s working at a fast food restaurant so Mom can stay in this house,” he added, suddenly deciding his grandparents should know that. “So it’ll probably be a while before she needs as much help as you think she needs. And Grandma, you should probably ease up because she’s lost at least ten pounds worrying about Lyle’s drug problems... and I’d rather not get anymore homemade pajamas for Christmas. Or phone calls from any of you... any time of year.” He paused and looked quietly at his mother again, the infuriated expression on her face, and added, “And I think you’re really fucked up for making me get rid of my dog the last time I was here, and I always thought it was funny when she pissed all over your carpet.”

Dennis took a step back after that particular admission, remembering the days when her hand might have landed harshly on the back of his head for it, and found himself standing much closer to Travis than he remembered Travis being. Not so concerned with the incredulous looks he was getting, Dennis met his eyes and asked, “You ready?”

Travis nodded slowly, less amusement in his eyes than Dennis thought there would have been. And as if a fire had suddenly been lit under his ass, Dennis moved for the front door like he fully expected someone to try to stop him, counting on Travis to be right behind him.

One outraged look from her own mother and Beth Gordon was practically tripping over her own heels as she went after her son, red in the face as her drink splashed over the sides of her glass. “Dennis! You get back here right....” she came up short, veering back when she came face to face with narrow dark eyes that lacked the insolence and obnoxious humor she’d seen in them before, regarding her seriously and pinning her in place... more than just daring her to take another step.

Travis hadn’t moved an inch, and Beth Gordon swallowed the anger that was on the tip of her tongue just for him. She took a step back as her youngest son reached the door, and only then did the only friend he’d brought to the party follow him out. The door closed almost too quietly behind them. No one moved to open it back up.

............

The ceiling light was on, lighting the basement that Dennis Gordon had called home ever since the last time he’d walked out of his parents’ house, and for the first time Travis Beltnick could remember, he found a room to be too bright after the sun went down.

He was fully dressed but feeling way too exposed as he sat with his back against Dennis’s bed, legs stretched out in front of him on the floor. The weight of Dennis’s shoulder seemed comfortably heavy against his own, but for what had felt like too long, Travis was having trouble meeting his eyes.

So he settled for Dennis’s hand instead. Their fingers had laced together and Travis had taken up a close study of Dennis's wide palm, short nails, the light dusting of blond hair over his skin and the slight roughness of his calluses... and he found his head leaning closer to Dennis’s as the nape of his neck prickled, the effect of feeling Dennis’s eyes on him.

Travis felt like he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for today, a rarity for him--and now he was left to deal with the consequences. Of course, Dennis was sitting next to him, so as far as consequences went, he felt he’d gotten off easily.

But then he also felt he’d crossed some lines throughout the evening, ones he couldn’t walk back over now, and it left him feeling edgy as he tried to figure out exactly what had happened. And that sucked, as far as situations went, because the way he saw it, it was Dennis who was supposed to be feeling uneasy after what had just happened with his family. And since Travis took full credit for placing Dennis in that situation in the first place, part of him felt that Dennis should definitely be mad at him. Only this time Travis found nothing funny about it. In fact, he was pretty sure that he actually feared it. So he couldn’t look at Dennis.

Not yet. He wanted to keep holding his hand. Wait it out.

“Travis,” Dennis said.

Okay. Waiting was overrated. Travis closed his eyes and turned his head to find Dennis’s mouth with his own, sighing when he felt Dennis’s fingers touch his chin, guiding him to where he needed to be and effectively telling him that maybe his nerves were overrated, too. Whatever had just happened, it appeared to have worked itself out positively, because usually when Dennis was angry, he wasn’t so cooperative. Or maybe, what had just happened was that Dennis had given Travis exactly what he’d wanted when he’d locked them in a bathroom together and he needed Travis to acknowledge it.

Dennis pulled back suddenly, and spoke again despite the face that Travis’s eyes were still closed. “We’re not going back there again. Neither one of us.” Or maybe Dennis was in the mood to make a few demands of his own.

Regardless, Travis nodded in agreement. “And no more fighting,” Dennis added. “Anyone. That fucking irritates me about you.”

Travis opened his eyes slowly, and his hand moved lazily up the hem of Dennis’s shirt, his fingers feeling comfortable against warm, smooth skin. “Okay.” His eyelids fluttered closed when Dennis approved with another kiss, and Travis decided that maybe relationships weren’t so bad after all...

Dennis abruptly pulled away from him again. “And when you say you’re going to call, it’s rude when you don’t actually do it.”

Travis reached for him, perfectly content to drag him down to the floor with him, but Dennis lifted himself onto the bed, seeming more interested in bringing Travis with him. That worked for Travis, too, but not when Dennis pulled away as Travis’s phone chirped underneath him.

Reaching regretfully for the device, Travis held it up and watched as Dennis’s expression darken when he read John Gordon’s name flashing across the screen.

“I need to take this,” Travis said, but before he could, Dennis stopped him with a hand over the phone.

“Why’s he calling you right now?”

Travis shrugged, his eyes still on the phone. “Probably because I told him where I’d be tonight to provoke him.”

Dennis narrowed his eyes, obviously not appreciating the honestly as much as Travis had hoped he would.

Carefully, Travis retrieved his hand, and the phone, and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” John Gordon immediately demanded.

Travis’s gaze slid over Dennis’s room, and then back to Dennis. “I’d rather not say.”

“Well get a pen,” Mr. Gordon ordered. “I need you to write this down so you can come pick me up.”

Silent for a moment, Travis shook his head to himself more than anyone else. “I can’t. You’re going to have to find another ride tonight.”

“Excuse me? Look boy, if you want me to even bother to sign your check...”

“I don’t. ” Travis cut him off, now frowning at what he was about to do. “Don’t even worry about it, Mr. Gordon. I quit.”

“Travis!” the gruff voice barked, but Travis was already pulling the phone away from his ear, removing the battery and leaving the pieces to fall to the floor before meeting Dennis’s curious gaze again. Travis’s mouth quirked into a smile and he asked, “Anything else?”

...........

He lifted the pipe his mom didn’t know he had hidden in the kitchen and put the lighter to it, inhaling deeply and filling the cool air with a cloud of white smoke.

Lyle looked from where the light came through the ground level basement window, his eyes lifting all the way to the top of the Chesley’s rectangle of a chimney, and he wondered what it would all look like if it were burning to the ground.