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Travis was so tired..
All morning his head had been pounding, ears ringing. All morning he just wanted to crawl into a dark corner and stop existing.
The dull sound of the dry erase marker hitting the white board as Mrs. Packerton wrote the warmup equation on the board made him feel nauseous. He slumped forward and buried his face in his arms on the cold desk, trying to get his head to stop hurting for just a second so he could listen.
He had to listen. He had to.. especially in this class.
He sat up after a second, squinting against the bright artificial light that burned his dark brown eyes. This fucking sucked.
Time passed in a weird way. Travis felt like he was putting all of his energy into listening and comprehending, but when Mrs. Packerton announced the assignment, he looked down at his book and realized that none of it had stuck. Not one thing.
The letters and numbers on the page seemed like a different language to Travis, the sentences appeared to have different meanings every time he read them and none of them fit together in a way that made sense.
All Travis could hear in his head was his father's angry screams, telling him how worthless and retarded he was. Anger and frustration began to bloom at the pit of the young boy's stomach as the voice got louder and louder, taking over not only his mind, but his body too, encasing his lungs in tight plastic, preventing them from working correctly. The bruises on his jaw and stomach were starting to throb as his father's voice continued. He had to listen, he couldn't fail this class- if he failed he'd be dead, he had to fucking listen.
Travis tried so hard to focus in on his paper, reading and rereading the question over and over, trying to understand what it was asking. But it was no use, he could read the individual words but they had no meaning when they were all put together.
This is bullshit! I can't fucking do this!
He tried one last time to read the problem, one last time to work it out through a series numbers on his page. Half way through though, his pencil broke and so did he. He slammed his pencil down on his desk, standing up so abruptly that his chair hit the desk behind him.
"Mr. Phelps!" Mrs. Packerton exclaimed, surprised at his sudden outburst.
Travis didn't acknowledge her, he simply growled out something along the lines of "Bathroom." Before storming out, ignoring the teacher's protests.
Travis knew he would probably get detention for that, he knew that he'd get the belt when he got home after his father found out. He honestly couldn't find it in himself to give a fuck though. At least not then.
He stormed through the empty hallways and shoved the bathroom door open so hard that it slammed against the wall, probably leaving a dent. The sound was loud in his ears and it just made him angrier.
He avoided the mirror and went straight to the very familiar far stall. After shutting and locking the stall door, he let himself scream in anger and punch the brick wall as hard as he could. That was all he'd allow himself. That was all he ever allowed himself. And quite honestly, it's all he needed.
After that, as he focused on the pain of his now split open knuckles, he felt the anger draining from his body. He turned and pressed his back against the wall, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. Travis pulled his knees to his chest and let the tears slip down his cheeks quietly. His father's voice continued to echo in his mind even as everything began to quiet down, and his nails were digging into his shoulders as they shook.
Travis didn't understand why things had to be like this. Why did he have to be so stupid? Sal and the others said he wasn't, said that retarded was a horrible word that no one should ever use, and especially that his father should never use against him. But why shouldn't he? It was true wasn't it? Travis was truly the dumbest person he knew.
He could barely read- the letters on the page always flipped themselves over and switched places, he couldn't write- his handwriting was absolutely horrific no matter how hard he worked on it, he couldn't do math- it made him feel dizzy and confused constantly. Science was okay, but it wasn't great- most of it was still math related, so that honestly didn't work out so well either. Truly the only reason he was passing any of his classes was because Sal practically did everything for him. Even though he swears he doesn't.
As if on queue, the bathroom door opened and footsteps made their way inside. The heavy door slammed closed, making Travis jump slightly, but after that there was no sound. That is, until a series of very specific knocks sounded on the stall door.
Knock knock
Knock knock knock knock
It was their code.
Travis slowly unfolded himself and sat up on his knees, reaching and unlocking the stall door without a word. As Sal stepped into the stall and locked it behind him, Travis sat back against the wall again, pulling his knees back up to his chest.
Sal sat next to him quietly, giving him a moment to adjust to the company before speaking, "What's okay with you right now?"
Travis took a moment to respond, taking a deep breath as he thought it over. He then leaned against his slightly smaller boyfriend, burying his face against his shoulder.
The blond had never been good at verbally communicating what he needed. Years upon years of being yelled at and degraded for doing so will do that to you. Luckily, the pair had worked out an unspoken language. Whenever Travis was upset, Sal would ask what was okay for him to do, and Travis would answer by indication. And this time, his answer was clear. He wanted to be held.
Sal obliged of course, wrapping his arms around his trembling boyfriend and gently pulling him into a more comfortable position. Travis was now sitting between Sal's legs, body resting against his chest, and face buried in his neck. Sal wrapped one arm around Travis and let the other one reach up, his hand resting in his boyfriend's bleach blonde hair, gently massaging the top of his head.
Travis felt himself relax completely as he breathed in his favorite scent. In books and movies, the lovers would always explain what their partner's scent reminded them of, but Travis could never do that. Sal just smelled like...well, there was just a very distinct scent that was just, Sal, and Travis could never get enough of it.
"Did you get overwhelmed again? I told you all you need to do is turn around and ask me and I'll come help you." Sal said softly, somehow knowing that speaking loud would make Travis' head ache even worse. It's times like these when Travis is incredibly thankful for his partner's attentiveness.
Travis just sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers playing with the softness of the black sweater Sal was wearing. "None of it makes sense. 's just bullshit." He grumbled. "No point anyway. 'm too dumb."
"Hey, stop that." Sal scolded, tapping the pad of their finger against Travis' head. "You're not dumb at all and you know it. You've been doing really good when you're studying with me, I've been hella proud of your progress." They said, their voice undoubtedly sincere. "It's not your fault you get overwhelmed, babe. And you're not dumb for getting confused when you try to read things. It's because of your-"
Travis tensed up immediately, "Don't say it!" He growled, clenching Sal's sweater into his fist. "I'm not...not.." he struggled to even say the word. It disgusted him.
Weak.
Weak, retarded, useless waste of fucking space.
His father's voice echoed loudly in his head at the thought of what Sal was going to say. "I don't have it, Sal, so just give it up...I'm not crazy." His voice had lost the defensiveness it had initially held, and now it just sounded weak and quiet.
Sal sighed, gently squeezing his boyfriend in an attempt to comfort him, "I know you're not crazy, baby." He said softly, kissing the top of Travis' head. "And anyway, people with dyslexia aren't crazy. Remember what we talked about? It's not cool to call someone with a mental illness crazy."
"sorry.." Travis whispered guiltily, sniffling softly. Sal just hummed in response.
"You're fine, Trav." They assured. "Your dad is still gone on that mission trip right? Until Sunday?" Travis nodded. "Well how about you come over tonight then? We can work on math a bit and then have a nice date night. How does that sound?"
Travis thought it over. He'd barely gotten any sleep in the last few days since his father had been gone, nervous to be alone in their large house at night. That and the nightmares that plagued his entire existence, even when his father was home. Usually when he slept over with Sal he managed to sleep fairly well though.
"Okay.." he whispered, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He could practically feel Sal's smile through their prosthetic.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm..I'll come over."
"Sweet!" Sal gave Travis another loving squeeze before shifting a little, an indication that they needed to get up. "We gotta get back to class now though, love. We'll raise suspicion and I don't want anything spreading around and getting back to your dad."
Travis understood his logic, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to leave. Sal’s arms were his only safe space. But he knew he couldn’t do anything to risk losing that. “Mkay..” He whispered, slowly pulling away and forcing himself to stand up. He shivered at the loss of body heat and contact, standing there awkwardly, reluctant to move and go back to class.
Sal stood too and looked up at Travis, their pretty blue eyes filled with worry and sadness. Travis knew his boyfriend was struggling because he didn’t know what to say or do to make it better. He didn’t know that simply standing there right in front of him made things a little more tolerable for Travis. He forced a weak smile, and watched Sal’s eyes wrinkle a little at the edges as he returned it.
The blue haired teen started walking toward the stall door, opening it and taking a few steps out before he realized Travis wasn’t following him. He turned and took Travis’ hand,reaching up to gently wipe his face. “Deep breaths, Trav. You’re good. I’ll help tonight, kay?”
Travis just nodded, feeling exhausted. “Yeah..” He whispered.
Sal gave his hand a gentle squeeze before they turned and left, leaving Travis in the bathroom alone again. Sal knew Travis well, he knew that the blonde wouldn't want to be seen leaving the bathroom at the same time as him.
The rest of the day went by extremely slow and painful, but eventually the final bell rang and Travis was up from his seat and out of the room in a heartbeat. He was so fucking tired of being in this god awful building.
He met up with Sal, Larry and Todd and walked home with them. Gone were the days where the gang would be angry or upset about Travis joining any of their hangouts, thankfully. Larry was still hesitant and a bit distant, but Todd and the others had finally accepted Travis as a part of their group.
It's been a few months since he and Sal started dating, and one or two more since Travis joined their group. He'd never been a part of a group before, or really any type of friendship. It felt...weird. But he liked it. He liked it a lot.
Travis walked next to Sal in silence as the rest of them talked about something Travis didn't care to listen to. He just kept his hands firmly lodged into his pockets and his gaze ahead. He slowly bit the skin off of his bottom lip as he walked, trying so hard to focus on the road ahead of them and not how grating and awful the others' voices sounded in his ears.
All he wanted was Sal and his nice quiet apartment. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn't get that soon. He felt like tiny bugs were crawling all over his skin and he was fucking exhausted too. His head was beginning to hurt and everything was just not going well. He felt like he was at the end of his rope.
Finally, after an agonizing 15 or so minutes, the foursome arrived at Addison apartments. Larry parted ways with them first, getting out of the elevator when the doors opened to the basement. He and Sal are next to get out of the elevator since Todd lived one floor up. They said their goodbyes and Travis did his best to be polite and say goodbye too.
As soon as they were alone, a wave of emotion washed over Travis and suddenly he was on the verge of tears. He followed closely behind Sal, biting his already sensitive bottom lip and fiddling with his sleeves to try and hold himself together. Sal got to his door and opened it, chattering about something that Travis honestly couldn't comprehend.
Once they were in the apartment and the doors were closed, Travis didn't know what to do with himself. Nothing he could think of doing felt like it would help his now pounding head, or his crawling, itching skin, or his heavy need to just burst into tears. He just awkwardly stood in front of the door, unsure what to do.
Sal noticed this, stopping what he was saying and turning around, frowning a bit. "Trav? Hey.. what's going on babe..? You haven't said a word all the way home."
Travis couldn't look at his boyfriend, instead opting to glance at the picture frames on the walls near him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
After a moment of silence, it became clear that Travis wasn't going to be able to respond verbally. So, Sal took a step closer, still leaving a fair amount of distance between them in case Travis needed the space. "What's okay with you? Can I touch you?" He asked softly.
Travis closed his eyes and focused on the slight shiver that crept down his spine at the sound of his boyfriend's deep, slightly raspy voice. His tone made him feel fuzzy, like he was being wrapped in an extra soft blanket. He took a deep breath, trying his hardest to hold onto that feeling. He was so focused that he almost forgot to answer the question.
He nodded almost instinctively after realizing he hadn't answered. He didn't think it over, but he didn't really need to. He knew he needed Sal. He'd needed Sal all day.
As soon as the smaller boy stepped forward and slowly wrapped his arms around Travis' waist, the blond felt hot tears start to spill from his eyes. He squeezed them shut and buried his face in Sal's blue hair. He slowly wrapped his long arms around his boyfriend, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly in his fists.
Travis is much taller than Sal, as most people were, so he had to bend forward a bit in order to comfortably hug him, but it was okay. Sal always gave the best hugs.
Travis felt weak and overstimulated and all he wanted to do was lay down. "Everything is bad.. can we take a nap..?"
"Yeah of course, babe. C'mon." Sal said softly, pulling away and taking Travis' hand. As they walked through the apartment toward Sal's room, the blue haired boy continued talking, "I'm proud of you for telling me what you need." He let Travis into his bedroom, closing and locking his door, as he knew that's the only way Travis would truly be able to relax. Locked doors meant no one could come in and hurt them. It was just him and Sal, alone and safe in their own little world.
Travis didn't say anything, he just followed Sal to his small twin bed and let him lay down first.
When they cuddled or slept in Sal's room, Travis always preferred to lay between Sal and the bedroom door. Logically the blond knew that no one would come in and try to hurt them, especially with the door locked, but that didn't stop his raging paranoia. And if someone did happen to get in somehow, Travis didn't want them to have easy access to hurt Sal.
Anyhow, Sal laid down first, back against the wall. Once he got comfy, he looked up at Travis and opened his arms. Travis stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight of his boyfriend laying on the bed, arms wide open for him. He took a deep breath, a weak smile lifting the corner of his lips. He reached out and took one of Sal's hands awkwardly, sitting down. The way he sat made it awkward to have to figure out how to lay down. He didn't know what he was doing honestly.
He sat like that for a moment before laying down all the way, trying to situate his long awkward limbs. Finally, after what felt like too long for Travis, he was comfortable. Now he was face-to-mask to his lover. Sal's eyes were so close that Travis could see all of the individual colors in them. He loved looking so deeply into Sal's eyes. God he loved Sal so much.
Sal was looking right back at him, analyzing his pretty brown eyes in return. The bluenette moved slowly and cupped Travis' face with his hand, thumb running over freckled cheeks.
"You're so pretty." He whispered.
Travis didn't believe him, he couldn't stop the quick exhale of air that escaped, he thought it was kind of funny. He was genuinely the ugliest person he knew, he hated his face so much. It was the face of a failure. The face of a weak, disappointment of a child that would never amount to anything. All Travis saw when he looked in the mirror was a disgrace to humanity, he didn't understand why Sal was with him. He didn't deny Sal's comment though, he knew it would only cause the smaller boy to keep insisting. Instead, he just deflected it,
"You're prettier." He mumbled, moving his hands to unclip Sal's prosthetic. Sal had grown used to Travis seeing him without his mask, especially in the safety of his own room, so he didn't protest.
Once the mask was out of his way, Travis leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to Sal's marred lips. His very favorite feeling, very favorite taste. He loved this boy more than anything or anyone he's ever loved before. Travis truly had no idea what he'd do without Sal, the blue haired boy had genuinely saved his life. He knew his dependency on Sal wasn't healthy, but he was working on it. He was trying to get better every day, more confident, more okay. Sally Face made Travis want to heal.
"I love you, Sally Face.." Travis whispered in between kisses.
"I love you too." Sal hummed happily, kissing him back each time. Finally he pulled away and squeezed Travis' cheek lightly. "Now get some sleep, you big sap. We'll have dinner and then go over math when we wake up."
Travis groaned at the thought of having to do homework, laying his head down on Sal's chest just in time to feel it bounce with soft laughter.
God he loved this boy…
And god he was so fucking tired..
Travis' eyes began to flutter closed as soon as he got comfortable. Sal's hand had found its way up to rest on the blond's head, slim fingers running through the bleached locks.
Travis was in heaven, through and through. He wished this moment would never end. Of course, he knew that wish would never be granted, but he decided to ignore that for now, and just let himself enjoy the overwhelming safety and warmth that came from sleeping in the arms of his boyfriend.