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Larry has no idea what the Hell is happening.
The day had started out spectacular.
Mom had been feeling great and made Chug, Sal, and him pancakes for breakfast after waking them up a bit later than usual (to account for their late night sleepover). After eating pancakes, Larry had put on his favorite shirt and jeans, still warm from the dryer, and he and the guys had met Todd at the bus stop. When they got there, they’d been early for the bus, which was miracle enough on its own, but then Todd told them that Neil was going to pick him up in his car and would be happy to take the other guys, too. And his car had been just as cool as when Larry first saw it! The ride to school was way less sticky than usual and way more air conditioned.
Then his first period class had been great. The teacher was behind on grading tests, so she put on a movie. Second period was a lab day, but it was a rare cool lab with Ash as his partner that they even got a good grade on. The next two periods were boring, but in a good, standard school day kind of way.
Finally, it's lunch time, and Larry is excited for what'll come next. It's not pizza day, but it's one of the better meals, a sort of noodle dish with meat and gravy, and he plops himself down at the end of the table they usually sit at happily.
The girls are on a choir trip today, having left sometime during third period, so it's just the guys today - himself, Sal, Chug, and Todd. It'd be cool to have Neil, too, but he's an upperclassman, so he has the next lunch period. Either way, guy time sounds kinda cool. He misses Maple and Ash, but he figures they're probably having a cool girls' day themselves.
He turns to tell the guys that, maybe find a time for them to all hang out, Neil included, but Sal distracts him by pulling the world's most beautiful sandwich from his lunch bag.
It's entirely pristine, somehow, despite being smooshed in a plastic bag that was stuffed inside a paper bag all day. The bread still looks fluffy, the layers of turkey and salami are still parallel and pretty, and even the lettuce refuses to wilt. If a sandwich could sparkle, this one would be setting off fireworks.
"Holy shit," Larry breathes.
Chug seems to agree wholeheartedly. He holds his fork of mushy cafeteria pasta halfway to his mouth, jaw dropped in amazement.
The resident mad scientist, however, isn't smiling. Larry can't help but notice the way that Todd sighs, his shoulders slumping more than usual.
"Sal..." he says, his glasses falling slightly down his nose, but Sal doesn't seem to hear him.
He's too busy Wheel-of-Fortune-ing at his sandwich, turned towards someone else's table. Craning his neck, Larry tries to look for who he's gesturing for, but he can't seem to spot them. Whoever it is, Sal is really laying it on thick, trying to seduce them over.
When the gesturing isn't enough, Sal slowly slides a piece of salami out of the sandwich and wiggles it enticingly, gyrating his shoulders to match. Larry laughs awkwardly, then falls into giggles at the sight - that is, until Travis Phelps, resident asshole, decides to walk up. He's got a carton of milk held too gingerly between his battered hands, but other than that, no lunch. Not even a sneer on his face, either, which is odd to say the least.
"If I sit over here," Travis says to Sal, looking like he's trying not to smile. "Will you please stop the weird… sandwich strip-tease?"
"Depends." Even though Larry can't see his eye to confirm it, he can tell Sal is grinning widely. It probably hurts his lips (what's left of them). "If I stop, will you sit here?"
Travis' eyebrow twitches and he grins sideways like he'd rather be doing anything else with his face. "Manipulation, Fisher? I guess I shouldn't be shocked."
And then Travis Phelps, homophobic bastard and all-around shithead, sits down next to Sal, across from Chug, and diagonal to Todd.
Larry leans around to shoot him a bewildered look. "Uh… Hey?"
For his credit, Travis seems even more flustered than the rest of them. "Sorry," he says. "Sal told me on the phone to sit with him or else. I wouldn't have gone through with it, but-"
"But Trav here can't resist the allure of lunch meats!"
"You were making me uncomfortable." The smile on his face betrays him, however. Only now does Larry realize his bottom lip is split, shining a painful pink that makes Larry wince in sympathy.
Sal laughs. "Uncomfortably allured, maybe. Here."
And then Sal does the Freakiest Friday thing ever and hands Travis half of his sandwich. His beautiful, beautiful sandwich. It’s enough to break Larry’s heart - and apparently Travis’ too.
"Oh! Sally, no-"
"I don't eat a lot anyways," Sal protests. It’s the truth, so Larry lets it slide, but he raises an eyebrow as he looks between them. "And this was the or else . ‘- or else’ you won't get any of my awesome sandwich at lunch."
Travis smiles again, but the smile reminds Larry of a kicked dog wagging its tail. Like he's worried the sandwich will bite him first. Regardless, he quietly chomps into the sandwich Sal offered, then closes his eyes in something like bliss, the way someone who hasn’t eaten in a while does. "...Thanks, Sally Face."
Sal rubs at Travis' shoulder like they've been friends for decades and not at all like the other guys at the table are staring at him in horror.
"Sal," Larry risks, murmuring into his good ear. "Are you sure we should make Todd sit with this guy?"
Overhearing him, Travis swallows quickly and nearly chokes.
"I'm fine," Todd snaps. Or, it's a snap the way he says it, when in anyone else's voice, it would be something closer to boredom.
"I'm sorry," Travis whispers, and even though sorry means jackshit half the time, Larry's heartstrings are a little tugged by the sad kitten look on his face.
Larry looks to Todd, who shrugs simply. It's no you're cool, Trav but it isn't a fuck off and die either, so things should be okay for now. Larry will be sure to give Todd some TLC (Todd Loving Care) later, and let Neil know to do the same (but in a gay way).
"So," This time, Todd speaks, but he turns to address Chug mostly. "What did you guys do last night?"
"We ordered pizza," Chug supplies. "Three whole toppings!"
Sal laughs. "Yeah, that was pretty cool. We listened to it while eating the new Death Babies album."
"You mean…" It makes Larry relax marginally to see that amused smile on Todd's face.
"Oh! Yeah, we ate Death Babies. I didn't stutter, did I?"
Todd laughs more fully at that. "Sounds delicious. Isn't the new album called something gross? Like, Devil's Asshole or something?"
"It is absolutely called Devil's Asshole. It's amazing."
Larry and Chug nod in unanimous agreement.
Travis looks scandalized, but he doesn't say anything. He watches them with something like interest - if a starved man views a banquet with interest, that is. Again, Larry feels a tug at his heartstrings, and he isn't super into it. He doesn’t want to feel bad for homophobes, even ones that his bro is apparently buddy-buddy with.
"We didn't listen to it super loud, 'cuz I didn't wanna keep Mom awake all night, but it was still good even quiet."
"Can't say that for all metal," Sal nods at him. "Some songs only sound good when your ears are ringing."
Larry nods back. "That's true. Just means we gotta turn it up a little, man!" He laughs and turns back to Todd. "But yeah, standard slumber party digs."
"My father says boys don't have slumber parties," Travis says, but he sounds confused instead of cruel.
"Well, I guess you can call it a sleepover," Sal grouses. "If you care about semantics that much."
"You gonna diss my slumber parties like that, bro?"
"Oh shit. Forgive me, bro." Sal hangs his head like a sinner and brings his hands up to beg.
Travis seems torn between offense and laughter, which is a lot better than the usual shitty look on his face (as well as the Wounded Baby Animal looks), so Larry guesses he's okay to stay for now. Larry's hardly a guy to turn someone away, after all, and as much as he thinks homophobes should have less teeth, he'd really rather they have better, more informed opinions.
Sal seems like he's doing well on that front, at least. But the guy's so nice, he could probably reform a literal demon, so maybe Larry shouldn't be too surprised.
"Mostly we just hang out, like... paint or draw, sometimes play video games or watch movies or listen to metal." Larry supplies, since Chug is focused on lunch again and he doesn't want to make Todd talk more to this guy. "That's standard slumber party stuff, I think."
Travis nods, looking intrigued. "My father says video games are sinful and Satanic. I mean, um, I've never played any. Are they fun?"
They all nod in unison.
"Dude," Larry says suddenly. "We gotta get you to play Doom. It's all about killing demons, even your dad would be cool with it."
Travis laughs a bit awkwardly. "I'm not sure he would be, but… I'm willing to try, as long as he doesn’t find out."
The conversation goes on like that for all of lunch, Travis awkward but polite, Todd mostly quiet in a way different than usual, and Larry surprisingly talkative for once. He notices how close Sal seems to be to Travis - they even talk on the phone, it seems, which Larry didn't know about - and it kind of makes him want to keep talking, just because of how happy Sal seems. He seems weirdly cagey, too, though, especially since he didn't even mention his friendship with Travis to anyone. It reminds Larry of when Todd would disappear to hang with his "new friend" but never told them anything about him; that is, until he was introducing them to his boyfriend.
A couple of things fall into place and Larry's heartstrings are shot. Fucking Travis Phelps, man.
He can't say he thinks Sal has particularly great taste, if this is the kind of guy he goes for, but he won't judge. All that matters is that Sal is happy.
Larry tells him so when they're back in Neil's car, Ash asleep on Sal's other side against the window and Todd and Neil talking quietly to each other up front. Chug and Maple had volunteered to take the bus back home just so they could get more time together, and it makes Larry wonder just how many of his friends are pairing up.
"You know you don't have to hide it from me if you two are dating, right?"
Sal's head whips around, pigtails flying, at his gentle murmur.
"You don't have to tell me, either," he continues. "But I hope you know by now that you're like my brother, man, and I love you. Even if you were with someone twice the asshole as Travis Phelps, I'd still support you. I'd just also have to make sure you're safe."
Sal doesn't speak, but his eye behind the mask creases like he's smiling.
Larry tugs at the ends of his own hair. "Um. You are safe, though, right? He's not actually a shithead?"
This time, Sal laughs, careful to avoid waking Ash. "Yeah, he's sweet. I mean, um, he's a nice guy. Just kind of sad and misled, you know?"
Larry has a feeling that he does know. A guy who has a father as stern as Travis' can't run from the part of himself that finds short goth dudes cute, but he sure as Hell can try. And what better way to do so then by yelling out "sodomites!" in the hallway Frollo-style between classes and passing out church fliers like food to starving children during lunch.
"Fucking Travis Phelps, man."
Sal laughs, but he doesn't sound too amused. Mostly thoughtful. "I know you guys don't like him, and for good reason, but… give him a chance? I don’t think anyone has ever really given him a chance before."
"Yeah, Sally Face, don't worry." Larry sighs. "I'm weak to a sad story, you know that."
As if in thanks, Sal leans the side of his head against Larry's shoulder. "Thanks, bro."
"Always, bro."
The rest of the car ride is nice, but he catches Neil giving Sal a knowing look in the rearview. When Neil and Todd start whispering again, Larry thinks he knows what they're talking about.