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It was a tragedy and a half that much they both understood. But to Wes, it was a giant catastrophe as well. There were mushrooms on the cushions of his couch, sausage on the coffee table. Tomato sauce spotted the pristine carpet like bloody footprints at a crime scene. For Wes, this was more than something to be cleaned, it was something to be endured.
Travis, on the other hand, all he mourned was the pizza.
“What are we going to do now,” he asked, turning those big blue eyes on his partner. His voice had wavered on that last word as if his world were ending.
“Clean up this disaster?” Wes was shocked that Travis even had to ask what to do next. It was absurd. But then, Travis had a distinct habit of thinking with his stomach. Whoever came up with the adage ‘a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ must’ve been dating Travis Marks at the time because there was no surer way to win the boy’s affections than by feeding him. Wes knew, he’d tried on several occasions. “There is pizza all over my living room.”
“I said I was sorry,” Travis pouted.
Rubbing the palms of his hands roughly over his face, Wes sighed. “I know, Travis. It wasn’t your fault but…” But what? He was still angry that there was three quarters of a large pizza decorating his once immaculate living room. No, he couldn’t blame this one on Travis no matter how hard he tried.
“But I’m still an idiot,” Marks said, sounding dejected. His eyes flitted over the scene of the crime, bouncing from pizza box to pizza to Wes.
“I didn’t say that,” Wes muttered, dropping to his feet and started picking up bits and pieces of sausage, pepperoni and errant olives. Such a mess, such a waste.
With a grunt, Travis dropped to his knees and started helping Wes pick their dinner off the carpet. “I feel so stupid,” he said. “This was supposed to be your birthday dinner and I went and threw it on the floor.”
“It’s not a big deal, Marks. We can order another.” As upset as he was over the mess, it really hadn’t been Travis’ fault. He hadn’t seen the edge of the coffee table because of the oversized cardboard box and had tripped, dropping the pizza but miraculously holding onto the six pack of beer he also carried.
“It’ll take an hour, man. It’s Friday you know.” He tossed a handful of toppings into the box, heaping a couple slices of naked crust on top.
He knew. It was a miracle that he wasn’t alone right now, disaster area of a living room or not. Breathing deeply, he reminded himself that Travis had taken time out of his busy social life to bring him a pizza. Whether he dumped it on the floor was a moot point because he’d made the effort.
Travis had made an effort for him.
Wes blinked, a thought settling into his brain. “Travis?”
“Yeah man,” he said, distractedly picking cold, stringy cheese off his hand.
“Kate and Amy made me a cake,” Wes said, testing the waters.
“They bought you a cake,” Travis clarified, “but that’s not important. What’s important is that there is cake.”
“And you brought beer,” Wes added, nodding towards where the six-pack sat on the floor. “I have a bottle of Scotch, too.”
“Good point,” Travis said, sitting back on his heels. “What are you thinking?”
“Order another pizza,” Wes said, drawing his tongue across his lower lip, afraid to meet Marks’ eyes. “We can eat cake and drink while we wait for the pizza to arrive.”
“Do you have ice cream?” A playful smile graced Travis’ handsome face.
Wes grinned despite himself. “Yes, Travis, I have ice cream. Two different kinds even.”
“Perfect.” Travis looked up at him hopefully. “Can we cuddle, too? I mean, it is your birthday, right? Who doesn’t want cuddles on their birthday?” He shook his head as if to say ‘no sane person would deny cuddles on their birthday’.
Wes laughed in order to hide the excitement he felt at Travis’ suggestion. No one in their right mind would ever turn down cuddles from that one. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself, mister. I’m not that kind of g – well, you know what I mean.” He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the conversations he managed to have with Travis. “Go order my birthday dinner.”
“Okay, okay,” Travis chuckled, rising to his feet. “One large pizza with pepperoni, sausage and olives – and extra cheese for my cheesy ass partner – coming right up.”
“And don’t forget the zeppoli either,” Wes reminded him. Piping hot zeppoli were his downfall.
“Cake and zeppoli?” Travis gave him big, round eyes for emphasis. “You sure about that, Mr. Everything-in-Moderation?”
“It’s my birthday, isn’t it? I can have two desserts if I want.” Besides, by the time he finished his pizza he was going to want something sweet again. It was just how his body worked, it seemed. He stole a glance at Travis and wondered if kisses counted as sweets and then decided he was too scared to ask.
“Have I told you lately how much I like you, baby? Because you are so my kind of guy.” Travis pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called the pizza joint he’d gotten the last pie from.
For the first time all day, Wes smiled. Travis was obnoxious and arrogant and messy, but he really was a good person at heart. “No, actually you haven’t ever told me any of that. I suggest you get with the program and do it more often.” And then maybe show me sometime, too, he thought.
“Anything to keep on your good side, baby. What? Oh no, sorry. I meant my partner, not you. You I need to make me a pizza,” Travis said into the phone.
Wes listened to Travis try and talk himself out of trouble with the girl at the pizza place and thanked the powers that be that he’d been partnered with Travis after all. Some days he wanted to throttle the boy with his own two hands and then others… well, even Travis had a trick or two up his sleeve it seemed. Wes just hoped he was able to stick around long enough to learn them all.
“Pizza’s on the way,” Travis said, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “Cake and cuddles until it arrives?”
“Of course,” Wes said, finding a spot on the couch and patting the cushion beside him. “I picked up a couple DVDs the other day, if you wanted to watch a movie.”
“This is starting to sound like a date,” Travis teased while rifling through the short stack of movies Wes had bought. Finding one he popped it into the player and took his spot next to Wes. “So, who’s going to cut the cake?”
“Travis,” Wes laughed, wanting to both hug him and smack him in that moment, “you are insane.”
“You’re welcome,” Travis said, grinning. Throwing an arm around Wes’ shoulders, he pulled the blond into his side. “You know, now that we’re both here, maybe the cake can wait?”
Looking up into Travis’ shining eyes, Wes thought the cake could wait forever and never once miss it. Not right now.