Work Text:
Taylor POV
Taylor closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool glass of the car door window, finally back in Kansas City. December had been a long, hectic month so far. Really, the past year in general had been completely unexpected in every way. Devastating loss, excruciating growth, and finally coming out stronger for it.
There were few things she regretted, situations she hadn’t necessarily come to terms with. But she was laying to rest her ghosts, and slaying her demons. She would be eternally grateful for this tour and her fans if only for the catharsis being on stage had brought her. Then putting all those feelings and experiences into her new album. But where her life was now, Taylor wouldn’t change a single thing from this year. Like the changing of the seasons, death gave the opportunity for new things to grow. Things like new music, the most successful tour in history, Person of the Year, and a new relationship. Just to name a few.
Taylor released a happy sigh that clouded the window and drew a smiley face in the condensation. Happy was what she felt most these days, with increasing fatigue. Bad days were inevitable in life, and there had been a few of those in recent months. She was grateful for the productivity and the soaring heights of her career after believing for so many years that she had reached the maximum of success allowed to her. But she was tired, emotionally and physically, from everything happening, the good and bad. That’s why she was so grateful to be back here. She knew the difference now, of running away to hide, versus finding a safe place to rest. In Kansas City, she found that safe place.
At the beginning, KC held the old familiarity of memories she made when visiting Abigail years ago at KU, and she’d taken comfort in that. As time went on, she noticed other things that made it a special place for her. Unlike NYC or LA, it wasn’t the overstimulating big city, which she more than appreciated at this point, rather than missed. It had no resulting mania from legions of fans or paparazzi, stalking her every move. There was also something to be said about the Midwest culture that reminded her of growing up in Pennsylvania. A wholesomeness that was a welcome contrast to the cynical and callous nature of life in the city and industry. Her approach to life had never fit amongst the majority of people that should’ve been her peers. It was good for her, healing, to be back among people that she could trust not to manipulate or betray her.
Of course, she wouldn’t have any of this, if it wasn’t for Travis. Travis, who had come into her life like a sunrise after the darkest night. He was her true safe place in the storm. He had seen the fishbowl that was her life, and dove right in with her. Somehow, with him, it didn't feel so small.
Taylor felt the turn of the car and realized they were already pulling up the drive. Staring up at the house now (more like a mansion, Travis had gone big when looking for a home), she was reminded of how they had come to live here. Naturally, the paparazzi were involved. While this wasn't LA, and KC afforded more privacy, she was Taylor Swift. Invasive cameras would be there for every step of her life, no matter where she lived. Especially at the beginning of her very high-profile romance.
….…
Taylor had woken early that day, or at least early for her considering she was on hiatus from the tour and it was a Saturday. She’d also woken alone. Travis was noticeably absent due to the demands of the season. She vaguely recalled a brush to her forehead and whispered, “Bye, sweetie, see you in a few.” Taylor loved that he did that. It was mandatory step one of Having a Great Day. She preferred the alternate, waking up together, but this was a close second.
See, Taylor’s days came out in steps and check marks, that varied depending on her location and schedule. It was all the simple, happy things that guaranteed she would have a good thing to reflect on, no matter if she was having a great, okay, or bad day. Some might think it stupid, but it had been a way of coping through verrry rough times of her life. Now, it was more so a habit that made her grateful for all the good things in her life. And it started and ended her day with Travis.
Venturing downstairs, Taylor grabbed her guitar and a blanket. On mornings like this, she would wait for Travis on the patio, typically working on her music. Part of Having a Great Day was enjoying the domesticity of living part-time together, so she would hold off on breakfast and coffee till he got home. It wouldn’t be long till she was in South America, and these missing “small things” would feel like holes in her day.
Before settling into the couch, Taylor switched on the outdoor space heater. Travis had purchased one for her as a surprise a few weeks back, while she was in New York. This had come about after Taylor mentioned the increasingly colder temperatures one morning, saying she would miss starting their day outside. It had been an off-hand comment to Travis, where he had nodded along, and squeezed her closer. Apparently, he had taken that as motivation to do what he could to prolong their morning ritual. The day after she’d come back, the heater had been waiting outside with little fanfare. That surprise had earned him a hug and kiss in return.
Gazing at the everchanging leaves, Taylor strummed her guitar. She loved it here, experiencing fall in Kansas, the changing color of the season, brisk weather, football, and bonfires with friends. All the ambiance made her life feel like a movie she watched in high school. Now, to pick up on that chorus from the other day…
It was perhaps an hour later when she heard the quiet opening and shut of the patio door, followed by his footsteps. A second later he was gently tugging her messy ponytail, tilting her head back, so he he could bend and kiss a murmured, “Good morning, sweetie”, against her lips. She smiled back against his.
Travis skirted around the couch and sat on the cushion next to her. Leaning forward, he settled her coffee, exactly how she took it, on the table before them, keeping a hold on his own cup. She waited till he reclined back, arm thrown behind her, before responding.
“Good morning to you too. How was training? Everyone looking good for the game this week?”
“Hmm, yeah it's all lookin’ good. Everyone's focused on the game. They all said “Hey”, by the way.” Travis answered absently, a bit unusual for him. Normally when he was with her, he was with her completely, and his answers tended to be a little more detailed, not so brief. He was tense too. An odd, given his morning activities, wired energy coming off him. Perhaps something heavy was on his mind, maybe the game, or something entirely different. Or he was just that hungry after training.
Thinking the last option was more likely, Taylor was about to ask him his breakfast preference when he said, “I’m looking at buying a new house”, followed by a sip of his own coffee.
Taylor tweaked her head at him, surprised. Well. That was a random thing to say. Especially random, since he had only moved here a few years prior. But Travis, she noticed, did have this habit of announcing things casually like that. Just out of the blue, with little to no relation to anything they were talking about. Then again, he'd never done it on anything big, like buying a house.
“Are youuu…wanting to diversify your real estate portfolio? Oh, is it in LA, because of the show next year? Renting might be preferable, it will only be a few months of filming. Of course, at that point, I would say use my place in town, sweetheart, much easier than buying or renting,” Taylor offered.
Despite what anyone might say, Travis’s number one focus was football once the season started, his entire life centered around it. Outside the season was another story. The number of endorsements and commercials the man had was ridiculous, not to mention the podcast, philanthropy, and all his side projects. And now he was dipping into acting, starting off with SNL recently, then future projects next year. He had a team to help manage it all, as any wise person would, but to add purchasing real estate to the mix? He was more booked and busy than she was, something she didn't think was possible.
Travis gave her a confused look back, furrowed brow and all. “Thanks for the offer, and I'll take you up on that, but what? LA? No, it would be here in Kansas City, something close to the stadium. I’ve blown money on some stupid crap before, but what the fuck would I do with a house in California?”
Studying him closer, Taylor noticed he was only getting more tense, close to agitated. Reflecting back on it, he’d been acting differently since The Incident a few nights ago. At that reminder, she winced.
It hadn't been a stalker or crazy fan, thank God, but one of the paps. Somehow, one of them had gotten into the backyard. The security cameras recorded him triggering the motion sensor lights which scared him off before getting too close to the house, at least. All things considered, the risk of danger was far less, mostly because neither of them had been home. But if it had been one day later, she would've been there while he was at the stadium. Thankfully, the situation had not made any headlines so far. Travis, she knew, didn't sleep very well that night, due to the near miss of what could've been, along with the glaringly obvious weakness in security.
She was starting to get a bad feeling, maybe absorbing the energy he was giving off, or knowing what this was probably about. “Why would you get a different house? You love it here, only moved in like six years ago. You had it remodeled to fit you perfectly, Trav.”
Travis pulled his arm from behind her back, twisting his body entirely to face her, and she mirrored his movements, after setting aside her guitar. Taking a breath, he seemed to gather his words. “After what happened a few days ago, it's pretty obvious to me that this house is no longer safe. Having all the photographers crowd on the street was bad enough, but then there was that asshole from a few days ago that got back here…” Travis trailed off.
Taylor felt her anxiety begin to take over, and her thoughts immediately started to spiral. Oh God, he was finally seeing it, the way fame infected your life, and every good thing was affected by it. It wouldn't be long till he was upset at all the inconveniences being her boyfriend came with. Soon after would be the fighting and silent treatments, and ever-growing distance between them. Then it would be all over. She just had to reassure him this was normal, convince him it was worth it, that she was worth it. Even if she wasn't entirely sure of that herself at times.
“Travis, please don't do this for me, or because of me. This kind of thing and worse has happened at my own home, so don't take on any guilt. These intrusions shouldn’t be your problem because they're normal for my life, and shouldn't affect you to the point of changing your residence. I’ll find an alternate solution. Please, I'll figure it out, so you don't have to. Please don't worry about this.” Vaguely she was aware of repeatedly pressing and popping her knuckles. She knew it was an outward sign of her inner turmoil, but that didn't really matter right now. Despite all that, her voice was steady, almost soothing.
Travis had definitely noticed it when he went from staring concernedly at her hands to her face. “There’s a lot to unpack in what you just said. But why are you trying to convince me this is normal? How are you this calm about trespassing?”
He wasn't getting it. And how could he possibly when she had almost twenty years to acclimate to this way of life, and it had only been a few months for him? How could he when nobody else ever had? Even some of her more famous friends were put off by the bullshit her status brought. Taylor had her own dark moments of struggling with it. She ran a hand through her hair, only stopping when her fingers caught on the band holding it back.
Her tone was almost pleading, like she was trying to convince herself, when she said, “I have to maintain some form of equilibrium about this or the paranoia will get to me. I can't function and be on the constant verge of an anxiety attack and still work at the level I do. This is all part of the job.” She swallowed hard and turned away, unable to look at him. She went on quietly, “However, I understand if this is too much for you.” If I'm too much for you. It went unspoken but still hung between them.
Travis turned her face softly back towards himself. That gentle touch was all it took to break through her apprehensive thoughts. She could hear the effort in his voice to remain calm, could see the losing battle in the clench in his jaw and tightness around his eyes.
“It's not about that, Tay, never about that, baby. How could I not be worried when this concerns you, and I'm all about you? I know you explained, and warned me of what to expect. And I'm all about swimming in this fishbowl with you, never doubt that. But hearing about it to experiencing it with you…It's a whole nother level. And you might say it's normal, but I can see,” he lifted her hands by her wrists, set them back down, “that it does affect you, even if it's not directly, and I hate that. It’s the - the” battle clearly lost with calm, Travis suddenly surged to his feet while throwing his hands up with a loud grunt.
Taylor blinked, nonplussed. She had only ever seen him come close to acting like this once or twice before. The irritated pacing and scowl on his face were normally a byproduct of football, when the team wasn't cohesive, or after his own poor performance in a game. She knew how to handle the irritability when it was football-related. Travis was such a mellow guy, that this was uncharted territory. She could not say if she preferred her earlier anxiety or this helpless feeling. Both were miserable.
Stopping a distance from her, he started ranting. “It's about the invasion of privacy and lack of respect for you as a person. Just because you're Taylor Swift, the greatest and best thing to happen to music, you get treated this way. Like you’re not also Taylor Swift, a woman who is a human like the rest of us. It’s the constant scrutiny at games or dinner, and for fucks sake, your boyfriend's home. It's the irrational hate and scary obsession that follows you literally everywhere you go.”
Raising his voice, he started pacing again, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Like you're not a human and just a commodity. Like you signed away your rights to privacy and freedom to the world the moment you had your first record deal. And it's not just the physical risk to your safety, though baby, that terrifies me too. The stories you’ve told me, the things those fuckin creeps planned…” Shaking his head, he looked sick at the thought of it. “But mentally, I don't know how you can be so tough. You just…carry on living,” he exclaimed, flinging his hand out at her in disbelief.
“You must be the strongest person I know. Just look at you, out here like that asshole hadn't been 40 yards from where you are right now, a few nights ago. I can't even think -” Abruptly cutting himself off, Travis paced away while rubbing the back of his head.
Taylor would've gone to him, tried to offer some comfort when he was obviously so disturbed, but was stuck, motionless. Stuck on understanding everything he just said. Her jaw had dropped at the sudden epiphany.
No one had ever…No boyfriend or lover had ever understood her like him. She didn't have to create a sales pitch, dressing up all the pros of being her boyfriend while convincing him the cons were worth it, for him to buy into a life with her. All the noise, that's what Travis called it, came with her, but it didn't matter because they didn't let it dictate their lives. Her life with Travis was like hitting the mute button on the rest of the world.
When it came to her fame and status, it was always a point of contention with her significant other. It typically went down one of three ways. First, it was an insult to his pride and vanity that she was more famous than him. Could not tolerate that the lights shone brighter on her than him. Belittled her when she didn't add to his shine, but “detracted” from it. Second, he couldn't comprehend that she would want to be more circumspect with her relationships. He wasn't able to understand that their “date” would be an absolute circus, not to mention the security threat considering how public he wanted to be. He didn't know how draining and overstimulating the incessant lights, camera, and screams could be, because how have you not gotten used to it yet, didn’t you sign up for this? Sometimes, depending on the man, it was only about her fame, the thrill of attention, and the boost to his ego being photographed with her bought. Third, her celebrity persona became a ghost that haunted him in their public and private life. It spawned a quiet, growing resentment that had her so afraid he didn't want to be there. It was easy to manipulate her fear of public backlash into staying hidden away. Not so easy to explain away the burgeoning irritation at any interview question linked to her, and the gradual refusal to appear in public together. Maybe she handed him the keys at first, but it changed from locking out the world to locking her up.
Travis…Travis was an enigma that didn't fall into any known category.
As she sat frozen by his words, the sudden revelation of things she had deemed too good to be true, came to the forefront of her mind.
….…
In the beginning, Travis had no protest to their budding relationship being confidential between them. Feeling uncomfortable, but that an explanation was owed, she went on to explain that right now was not the ideal time for a high-profile relationship with an NFL player, after two very publicized breakups with subsequent emotional displays on stage.
“I'm just not ready for my romantic life to be the number one hot topic again, instead of, I don't know…my world tour? And I hope you're not offended by that, but I want some more time for just us, before the world ways in. More time to get to know each other as we are,” she explained, avoiding his eyes and picking at her nail polish.
With a gentle smile, he lightly traced her face from forehead to chin. “I'm not the biggest star in the world right now, so don't worry about me, I'll follow where you want to go with this. Let's focus on taking care of you, okay, Swift?”
Even the extensive security measures didn’t cause him to trip up. The NDA, armored cars, background check, and initial pat down were taken in stride. She must not have hidden it very well, or he was just that attuned to her body language, but her misgivings over the not-so-subtle mood-killing presence of her bodyguards on their first date only provoked some light teasing from Travis. Seeing his levity with all the measures allowed her to relax about it, too.
Beneath his humor, he understood the lengths she had to go through to protect herself and encouraged it even. He was ready to coordinate between her private security and the security at the stadium when she attended her first game. However, when the nature of their relationship became public, she saw a marked change in Travis. Perhaps it was the drastic change in attention, knowing so many more people were watching you, especially outside the game. But it was probably the outpouring of love from well-meaning fans that could quickly devolve to mania, and the open hostility coming from many different sides that ran the risk of violent threats. Either way, that was the end of Travis’s amusement regarding security.
At first, Taylor had noticed an increase in Trav’s awareness of their surroundings. Natural she thought, given the amount of eyes scrutinizing them at any given time. Then it was the constant close proximity and contact that caught her attention. Initially, she had just thought it was Travis’s way. He was a very affectionate guy, especially wither her. As time went on she able able to recognize a subtle difference. In public, in crowds, or around strangers, he was more alert and protective, not enough to be off-putting, but she could definitely feel it. When it was family and friends, he was still attentive to her, but far more relaxed.
It became undeniably apparent at their first pap walk…
Pulling away from their kiss as the car came to a stop at the curb, Travis said with a serious face, a very firm, “Stay here.”
Caught off guard by the abrupt change in demeanor, Taylor could only watch as he exited the vehicle and came around to her side, circumventing the guard already at her door.
Sure, Travis was a gentleman in a lot of ways, one of them getting the door for her, but it wasn't as if he was always the one to get them, herself or one of security getting there first. He had certainly never made a point of not letting her exit the car before he got to her. Seeing the paparazzi crowded behind Travis, the flashing lights illuminating his outline, she realized what he was doing.
“Oh,” she exhaled, just a bit breathlessly. That warm feeling she always had around him burned a little hotter, flushing her cheeks.
The rest of the night, Travis was always right there with her. Always staying close by, fingers entwined, or his arm wrapped around her stomach, guiding her transition in and out of the car. Always getting her in the car or building first. Always walking just a smidge ahead or behind her, so he was positioned to step in between her and everyone else. His hand became her rock in the sea of faceless people and recording cameras. After recent past experiences, it was a heady feeling having a man like him take such care of her. Viewing the captured footage of them certainly didn't do justice to how those moments felt.
Later that night, snuggled up close to him in bed, she started, “You know I have Drew and the guys to cover me, you don't have to ste-”
“Sweetie, I know it's their job, and they're pros at it. But the man that I am, it's also my personal responsibility and pleasure to take care of you.” Taylor felt her arm flex involuntarily at that statement, squeezing across his gut.
He let that sink in, rubbing up and down her arm, before adding teasingly, “Besides, why have a 250lb tight-end boyfriend if you don't use him for all that he's good for?”
And who was she to disagree with that kind of reasoning? Relaxing back into him, she admitted only to herself that she didn't really want to persuade him against it.
With a soft snort, she let it go and pressed a kiss to his pec. “Okay, sweetheart.”
When the podcast episode aired days later, after Travis answered Jason’s question about feeling protective on a date, Taylor felt that same warm, fluttery sensation again. It reminded her of high school, of giggling and kicking her feet after her crush said hi in the hallway.
….…
Coming back into the moment from her reverie, she stared at Travis, overcome by her own denial and emotion for him. She could recall memories of that nature from day one with Travis.
Despite devoting herself to this relationship, an old, wounded part of her had been holding out for the worst till it all came to a head right now. She could no longer caution herself against the possibility of Travis performing a charade. The truth was in his voice, his eyes, the emotion conveyed in his words. Taylor felt her fear leave her, then the peace that replaced it.
She could acknowledge with a clear mind now, that she'd never had a boyfriend become so incensed at the way the world treated her before. Any upset on her behalf was always a line to mislead her, all while disguising their own agenda. Of course, she did have people in her life that cared. Family, definitely her parents, were always her support and shield when it came to the media abuse and threats against her safety. Select few friends were shocked and outraged. But never the man she had chosen, not in the way he should be. Not until Travis.
Clearly, she had fallen into the default mindset and behaviors she’d become accustomed to in other relationships, trying to protect herself. Clearly, she had needed this wake-up call in order to get on the same page as Travis. Sitting up, Taylor opened her mouth to say something, what, she didn't know, but Travis got there first.
Turning around he had a resolute look about him, still and controlled, one that reminded her of his game face on the field. “But this is your reality like you said. More, it's part of your career, your passion, your life. So I will do what I fuckin can to make it the safest possible for you, physically, mentally, emotionally, all of it. Fuck, Taylor, if anything happened to you, and there was something I could’ve done to prevent it… I would never forgive myself.”
She believed him. Knowing the kind of person Travis was, he didn't say a thing he didn't believe to his bones. He would die carrying the weight of that perceived failure.
Eyes locked to hers, she couldn't possibly look away. Not when he walked over to crouch before where she sat on the couch. Intertwining their fingers, he squeezed them gently. “Before you think I'm rushing into this decision, I've been planning this since before your first game. I figured a situation like this was gonna happen at some point, just not so soon. If our safety means buying a new house and upgrading security and the alarm system, I don’t fuckin care, I’ll do all of it. Whatever I have to do.”
Exhaling a breath, he went on softly, “I need to do this baby, for you to be okay with me doing it. For my own peace of mind at least.”
If she hadn't already decided, that last part would have done it. For a guy who thought of himself as just a “jamoke”, he had quite a way with words. No man who was that in touch with his needs and emotions and communicated them so well should ever be considered stupid.
This wasn't about control or making her contort herself so she would fit his lifestyle. This was partnership, a true partnership. Where you took mutual care of one another. When you had open communication regarding the life you were living together. When you were just proud of one another and weren't afraid to share that, in public or private.
This was love, or the foundation of what love would be for them. Taylor let her eyes close as that feeling settled around her. Took a moment to enjoy the feeling of blossoming love and peace intertwining deep in her heart.
Opening her eyes, she detached her hands from his to cradle Travis’s bearded jaw and gently kissed him once. Twice. Moving slightly, she rested her forehead against his and said quietly, “Okay, Trav. I trust you. Thank you for caring for me the way that you do.”
Travis visibly relaxed and released a sigh at her agreement. Leaning forward, he enveloped her in his arms.
“Always, Tay.”
….…
That memory passed through her mind as Drew slowed the car and they waited for the garage door to open. Gazing at their new home from the car, it wasn't the obvious luxury that had her so in love with it. No, it was what the house symbolized in their relationship. Safety, support, comfort, and love. It was her favorite place on earth.
Travis hadn't been lying when he said he'd been planning this weeks in advance. Apparently, when he told her, the options had already been narrowed down to a few select properties. All he needed at that point was an inspection by her security and her own opinion and approval before purchasing.
….…
They were standing toe to toe by the pool at the final property. All the other houses had been great, and she'd given some noncommital opinions on all of them because Travis was spending more time looking at her reactions than the house itself. Taylor just didn't believe her thoughts should sway him on which house he picked, and she said as much.
“Trav, I don't think my input counts here. I mean, this is your house you’re buying with your money. Despite, I might add, my offer to split it.” She put extra emphasis on the “yours” and “my”. It definitely mattered after his outright refusal to even discuss her financially contributing.
“Sweetie, this is our home I'm buying because it was my idea. I might not be rolling in it like some Ms.Billionaire, but it's not gonna drain the bank either,” he teased with a light tap of his finger on the tip of her nose.
She would've glared back at that but was caught on two specific words. “Our home?” she repeated inanely.
“Well yeah, our home. You're gonna be living here with me, aren't you? And it's gonna be the main base during the season and tour for the foreseeable future. And you asked if it would be okay if Meredith, Dibbles, and Benji came to stay. This is where most of the living, laughing, and loving will be. So, our home.”
He said it like it was an obvious forgone conclusion, and not him essentially asking her to move in with him! Not that there was much asking involved, it was more like a statement of fact. It had only been a few months! Sure, when he explained it like that it was obvious, but she had not been operating on the same wavelength. Taylor had been thinking of it as staying long-term, not moving in! Of course, now she wanted to think of it as moving in.
Leaning back slightly she eyed him suspiciously. He gave her his most wholesome look in return. Travis had this thing of perpetrating verbal, emotional sneak attacks. She was fairly certain he came up with them on the fly so she wouldn't be able to anticipate them. It wasn't poetry, but simple words strung together, each of them carrying the weight of his emotion and meaning. And the worst part was when she couldn't argue the logic because he made sense! The way he delivered it as a straightforward thought to the logical conclusion, juxtaposed with underlying emotion made it very difficult to disagree with him. Taylor knew it must drive Jason insane. As an older sister and girlfriend, she could commiserate.
With a shy glance away, she looked out over the lawn. As much as it irritated her, she couldn't deny how happy she felt. So what if it was a few months? You couldn't put love like this on a timeline, and measure it by normal standards. And their love was anything but normal.
“Welll…” she dragged out thoughtfully. “I do love the chef's kitchen. And the acoustics in that one room were amazing. Also, the proximity to Pat and Brit is nice.” Taylor looked back at him, and added slyly, “Not to forget the two separate walk-in closets are definitely a must with your passion for fashion.”
Throwing his head back, he belted a laugh. “Think you’re funny girlie?” Travis started stalking forward, hands raised to grab her.
Backing up, Taylor gave him a droll look. “Babe, your sneaker collection alone outnumbers all 250 pears I have for the tour. We both know your highly anticipated fit is its only special feature on gameday.” She paused for a second and looked back at the house. “Actually two closets might not be enough. Maybe we could convert one of the spare bedr-”.
The muttered “That's it” and sudden movement out of the corner of her eye was her only warning. Shrieking with laughter, she darted away, onto the lawn.
After a short-lived chase (tight ends were fast, who knew?) and careful tackle, followed by an even shorter tussle in the grass, Travis had her pinned. Her wrists were caught up above her head, and her legs incapacitated between his own. He had learned the hard way that Taylor was very competitive and would fight dirty, and must be completely neutralized. Travis never made the mistake of underestimating her in a wrestling match again.
As their laughter subsided, he held her gaze and asked the simple, weighty question. “Yes?”
Lifting her hand to rest it on the side of his face, she rubbed a thumb across his cheekbone. “Yes, sweetheart.”
….…
Entering the house from the garage, she listened for regular Travis noises but heard only silence. Strange that there was no music or a sports analyst's voice to greet her. Stranger still that Travis wasn't there to greet her, especially given the amount of time they were apart. Only 4 days, but it felt like 4 months. God, she missed him.
Venturing further into the house, she checked the obvious locations first. Peaking in, the kitchen was empty as was the connected living room. Perhaps his office? But he wasn't there either.
“Travis?” she called out. Listening for a callback, she kept checking the ground floor. No answer. Hmm…time to check upstairs.
Unfortunately, the reason for the move had already followed them to their new address. A nosey neighbor had felt the need to knock on the window and check them out, the first day Travis was moving in. Naturally, this was only days before the security system could be installed with all the extra measures, otherwise it wouldn't have happened. Travis made sure of that.
Walking through their home, she could not help but admire how everything was coming together. While it sucked why they had to move (trespassing assholes) there was a definite silver lining: furniture shopping and decorating. Unsurprisingly, Travis was having as much fun with it as she was. It was becoming their second love language, the way they shared links and pictures of furniture, art, and color swatches. More surprising was how well their individual style and taste fused together. Taylor had it all organized on a Pinterest board. Her favorite though, was walking from room to room with him and planning it all out. Living life, and building a future was just effortless with Travis.
She knew he wouldn't be in there, but she couldn't help stopping at her favorite room in the house every time she passed by. Her music room, a surprise gift to her from Travis the day she moved in.
….…
“Is this a sex thing?” she inquired.
“What?” he chuckled. “Why would you ask that?”
“I don't know babe. You wouldn't let me come up here without you, not saying much about why. You have me walking in front of you with your hands over my eyes. Very mysterious. Definitely a sex vibe going on.”
“You'll just have to wait, telling you would kill the surprise. And sex isn't planned till later. Careful, watch your step here.” Cautiously he guided her up some stairs.
“I wish I could. Jeez, your hands are huge, they’e covering my face, and half my head.”
“I thought you liked my hands?”
“Oh, I do,” she mumbled. “That's where 90% of the sex vibe was coming from.”
A hough of a laugh that ruffled the hair across the top of her head. “I'll remember that for later. We’re here now.”
Travis had her beat in gift giving, a level that had her constantly working to try and match his generosity and ingenuity. It wasn't about the expense or frequency of the gifts. Big or small, they showed how much he knew and loved her. Lifting his hands, she opened her eyes, so excited to see the surprise.
“Travis,” she whispered. She couldn't believe…
A music room. Her music room, the one she had designated as “perfect” before he had even signed the papers. Everything was ready and set up for her. She walked forward in a daze, swiveling her head, trying to catalog every detail, trying to form a cohesive thought. After long minutes, she mutely turned to him.
Travis, the most confident man she'd ever known, looked a little uncertain and hesitant at the threshold. “So…do you like it?”
Did she like it?
“I- How did you do this?”
Shoulders tense, he entered the room. “Well, that took a little light footwork. I called Tree, who got me Jack’s phone number. He directed me on where to source a piano. Brand, style, supplier, all that. He also shared a few things of what was absolutely necessary for you to have, and what to steer clear of. Then he tagged in your mom. And she was very helpful in sharing pictures at your other homes for inspiration.” He shrugged, looking around. “I think it turned out pretty well.”
For as modest as that comment was, she could tell he was secretly pleased with himself. As for her own feelings, she was utterly speechless. How the four of them pulled it off without her suspecting a thing, was beyond her.
“This is my favorite part, it's kinda a combination of the both of us,” Travis shared, walking over to the far wall. Massive floor-to-ceiling shelving with cabinetry at the base and a mini fridge. The shelves framed a cutout in the center, occupied by a professionally framed, blown-up picture of herself on the Eras Tour. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was the 1989 set, Travis’s favorite era, she knew. Fixed to the bottom of the frame was a plaque that read:
The Eras Tour
Kansas City, Night 2
July 8, 2023
The First Time I Saw You
Emotion choking her throat, she took in all the other details. Pictures of them together and with friends scattered around. An aerial shot of the Eras stage all lit up at Arrowhead. Knicknacks and souvenirs from their adventures together. Walking to the adjacent wall, she stopped between the coffee table and couch, to stare at the display above. Mounted on the wall were some of their shared favorite albums, all of them signed, with room to add more.
“I didn't add too much so you can still make it your own, but I didn't want you coming into it empty either,” Travis said nervously, trying to fill the tension-filled silence. Taylor could only nod in acknowledgment.
Stepping over to the piano, standing proudly before the wall of windows, she spotted one of her guitars propped up in the corner. Taylor touched a single key, and in harmony with the note, she felt her soul sigh.
Travis came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her. Pressing a kiss to the side of her head with a squeeze, he murmured, “You still haven't answered my question, sweetie. Do you like it?”
She twisted in his embrace, standing on tip-toe to get her arms around his broad shoulders. Pulling him closer, she kissed him. A serious, deep, all-consuming kiss. Tried to communicate all the love, joy, and gratitude she didn't have the words for.
Holding him close, Taylor whispered, “I love it, Trav. No one has ever, ever done anything so thoughtful and amazing for me. How did you possibly have the time for all this, and keep it a secret?” Shaking her head at a loss for any more words, she buried her face in his chest.
“Well, this room is gonna be the soul of our home. I figured it should get first priority. All of it was worth it for this moment,” Travis whispered back, close to her ear.
Another sneak attack. It didn't escape her notice either, the way they both correlated this room with the soul, an entity that gave a body life. Speechless still, all she could do was kiss him again. It was starting to get heated, Travis maneuvering them over to the couch, when they were interrupted by a knock on the open door.
Drew was in the doorway, resolutely not looking at them when he said, “Sorry to interrupt, but the delivery trucks are outside, and they need some direction on where everything goes.”
“Right,” Travis responded, looking pretty dazed. “I'll come down right now.” Nodding, Drew left.
Taylor was still holding tight to Travis when she said, “I’ll follow you down in a bit, I just want to…take this all in a little longer.”
“Okay, girlie. Join us when you're ready.” With a final kiss on her forehead, he left.
Spinning around, she could only imagine all the music she'd make here, surrounded by Travis and their life together. Starring at the Eras poster, she ironically felt that familiar inspiration strike.
“tell me about the first time you saw me.”
Smiling deep inside, Taylor took out her phone to note the lyric. Fitting she thought, that the first song I start in this room is about him. After pocketing her phone, she went downstairs to join Travis.
….…
Every time she looked in there was like reliving that moment all over again. All the support Travis gave her, was almost magical. All the public appreciation at shows and private gestures like this made her heart want to explode. She smilled big at the empty room. Now, time to find her elusive boyfriend.
Her next stop was the master. While not empty, there was no Travis. Olivia was curled up at the foot of their California King. Considering Travis’s size, that big of a bed was definitely necessary. Taylor wasn't exactly petite and dainty herself, though he made her feel that way. At the beginning of their relationship, it had been one of the most attractive traits about him. Physically, it still was.
“Have you seen the Big Yeti around Olivia?” Taylor asked as she stroked her head. A disgruntled “mrow” and jump off the bed was all the answer she got.
Taylor sighed. “The disrespect. Thanks for all your help,” she called back, exiting the room. She heard a suspiciously sarcastic meow back.
Her only other logical option was the theater room. Maybe he wasn't even home? It was possible she’d gotten the schedule wrong. They were both so busy, in and out of the state, that it got a little jumbled sometimes. She thought about the garage, and if one of the vehicles had been gone. Given the amount of cars between them, it could be hard to tell if one was missing.
Feeling increasingly confused, she pulled up the calendar on her phone. Nope, all clear, a rare afternoon carved out just from them. Since it was the height of football season, and she was recording a new album, they both took the dedicated time together seriously. It would be very unlike Travis to forget her arrival home and go do… she didn't know what, just Travis shenanigans. So, theater room it was.
Turning the corner, she saw a faint glow coming from beneath the door, and instantly her mood brightened. Of course, he must be reviewing game tape. The countdown to the AFC game was on, and given the amount of somewhat scathing scrutiny the Chiefs were under, Travis’s focus was amped to one hundred.
She loved that about him. Genuinely admired his passion for the sport and his dedication to the team. It had surprised her, the similarities between their two careers. The constant doubt and comparison between you and another player. Learning to tune out all haters who wanted to see you fail. That once you hit a certain age, they started to shelve you and question your ability to perform. Always having to outdo yourself or risk failure and disappointing the fans. Trying to be the greatest in the league and cement yourself in history, while also giving praise and acknowledgment to the ones who had come before you and your direct competitors. The drive and work ethic though…that was a bone-deep understanding between them, that neither had ever experienced with another partner before.
Quickening her step, Taylor opened the door ready to jump and land on top of him, but froze at the scene before her. Despite her surprise, part of Taylor was still arrested by the side of him. To have seen him play multiple times now, all that power and control in motion, was pure beauty. To have that same power and intensity directed towards her; above, below, inside her… she was getting shivers just thinking about it. He was simply the sexiest man she'd ever seen.
Travis was laid up on the ultra-comfy sectional with Benji. Those two had become fast friends, forming a deep bond that had her more than a little jealous. He liked to tease her about it, not that she would ever admit to her absurd feelings of envy. Travis looked ridiculously comfortable in his matching lounge set, holding his tablet, with Benji stretched out across the top of the couch, right behind his head. An all too familiar sight but with one significant difference.
It wasn't game tape on the screen, it was Taylor. And it wasn't the usual sound of a game coming through the speakers, but the song “Peace” from the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions. Glancing back and forth between Travis and the screen, she tried to register what was happening. Squinting her eyes a little, she saw on his tablet… were those notes?
Deciding her best course of action was to let the last few minutes of the song play out and get her head together, she quietly went to stand behind him. If he was doing what she thought he was… Oh, Trav.
When the familiar sound of the insects started she said called his name and lightly touched his shoulder.
Jumping a little, Travis whipped his head around. “Shit! Is it 1:30 already?”
“Past that actually.” Smiling a bit at his surprise, she cleared her throat. “So umm, what are you doing? This doesn't look like your typical tape review before a game.”
Shifting his eyes from Taylor to the screen, he seemed unusually at a loss for words. “I finished that earlier. And I… missed you.”
“What?”
“I missed you.”
“And I missed you too, sweetheart, but I'm not sure I understand,” she gestured to the screen, “this.”
Travis closed his tablet, tossing it far from himself. Something about that action tugged at her, but she let it go for now. Patting his lap, he said, “C’mere girlie.”
Taylor walked around to the foot of the L shape of the sectional, then crawled up to settle between his legs. He didn't know this, but in Taylor's head, she called it the Travis Kelce Woman hold 2.0. The original version was reserved for when they were walking close together, and he had an arm over her shoulders, while she had one wrapped around his waist. He had settled them both so naturally and so frequently into these positions, they had garnered a title in her mind.
Ordinarily, she would rest her back against his chest, sitting between his legs, and then he would wrap his arms around her, settling them just beneath her breasts. Right now, she twisted to lean her back against the arm of the couch and rested her legs against Travis's torso, so she could see his face. Nestling in, she grabbed his arm to hug it against her chest, clasped their hands together, and set her chin on top of them. She figured maximum physical contact was the way to go for this conversation.
Travis had a look in his eyes though, at the way she was snuggled in, which she elected to ignore. If she didn't keep him focused, maximum contact would get a lot more physical than she intended. “I’m ready.”
Taking that as his cue, he said, “It all started a month or so after our first date. I know we talked and texted all the time, but the more we started to do that the more I was missing you. I didn't want to scare you away by sharing that or distract you because I was feeling needy and clingy. You were already kind of on my for you page because of the name drop on the podcast, but I started watching those reels and Tick Tocks just to see you, hear your voice. And I know how fucking creepy that sounds, so I definitely wasn’t going to tell you that…”
Side-eyeing her, he tried to gauge her reaction. She just nodded with a small smile. Taylor wasn't vain, but she figured something like that happened. She knew she'd be kicked out of the girl club if she didn't do the same social media search on him. Taylor still cracked up when she thought about some clips from “Catching Kelce”. And good Lord, the thirst trap edits of him she had saved on her burner accounts.
“Then you started talking about football. You started learning the game on your own time, asking really insightful questions. Mom and the guys told me after the Bears game. You were asking questions because you wanted to know and cared about the game, it wasn't to make yourself look good as my girlfriend. Walking in the way you did that day… It was already enough for me. But you embraced this life, the culture, the Chief’s kingdom, despite some pushback, because this is my passion and you wanted to be there for me. That’s when I knew.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
“Fuck,” he laughed. “Pat even mentioned it the other day, that it sounded like you were preparing to start drawing up some plays.”
Taylor felt her own cheeks start to flush. Sometimes she would zone out during the show, and perform by muscle memory. Maybe it happened a few times that her mind would wander places, and she would start drafting something up during “Enchanted”. She was performing in football stadiums after all. Taylor wouldn't share that with him now, they still needed some tweaking, but one day…
“I know you're taking notes on everything, it's what you do. You binged Quarterback after watching Kelce. I know that last one was more about family than football, but still.” He gazed at her with so much love. “You were doing all of this for me on top of the tour and the new album, how could I not return the same energy and dedication to you?”
“We watched Miss Americana together, and that really got me interested. I knew some of it before and I was already listening to your music more, but that's when I really started to double down. Driving, working out, whenever I usually have music playing, it would be your albums just so I could be familiar with them. To keep it real, I haven't saved or listened to everything, but a lot of songs are part of my regular playlist now,” he shared honestly.
She appreciated the lack of false flattery. Not all her music was for everyone, even her boyfriend. The respect and effort were what really mattered here.
Taylor recalled asking him what his favorite song of hers was. She knew it was wrong to test him like that, but she’d learned from past experience that how a guy answered said a lot about him. Definitely more than they thought it did. It wasn't even just guys, but people in general. So maybe it was a bit devious, but it cut through the bullshit. And it wasn’t like it had happened on their first date, but a couple of weeks in, when they were more comfortable with each other.
His answer had been immediate.
….…
“Blank Space.”
Unsurprising, she thought, since it was one of her most popular mainstream songs. But given that it was an easy one to name, and the context of the song itself, she thought it might be a fake or snarky answer on his part. So she tested him further.
“And why is that?”
“Fucking catchy lyrics first off, and that beat goes hard. A lot of great memories tied to that song, so it's also nostalgic. And that music video… Goddamn, Swift. That got you number one as my celebrity crush. What I would’ve given to be the guy in that video,” he shared with a cocky smirk her way.
Taylor blushed slightly. An honest answer. Flirty, but honest.
He went on more seriously, “But it's the meaning behind the song that does it for me. What everyone says about you? That you're some crazy rich celebrity that fucks around with a lot of guys only to dump them and then write a song. Right?”
“I- Right,” she stuttered, caught off guard by his astute assessment.
“But you flipped it on them and made a fucking electric song. You owned the lies said about you and made the biggest hit of the year. Not to mention, bags of money.” He nodded his head, with a serious look on his face. “I live by the same philosophy. All the doubt and negative shit they say about me and the team, just fires me up more, makes me work that much harder. Makes victory that much sweeter.” He flashed a big admiring smile her way. “But you already know all about that, don't ya, Swift?”
In that moment she'd been so attracted to him, she didn't even respond. Just straddled his lap, and laid one on him. It had been far from their first kiss, but it had been the first time getting seriously hot and heavy with each other, some invisible barrier gone from between them.
….…
She knew now that the barrier had been her holding herself back from him, and Travis reading that and not wanting to push her too fast. For him to understand that song, admire her thought process behind it, even identify with it… It had been the final hit to make her first wall crumble for him.
Considering that had happened in the early stages of their relationship, Travis admitting this now shouldn't be so surprising to her, but it was. From the beginning, he had praised her work and talent. Never too much to be fake or trying too hard, but always genuine.
Reaching up now, Travis ghosted his thumb across her cheekbone. “I love and hate to see that look on your face, how soft your mouth gets, and the surprise in your eyes when I return the same love and support you give me every day, like you don't expect it to happen. Hate it because it's not hard to fucking do, and those assholes kept it from you for years when you more than deserve it, Tay. Love it because it means I'm the one giving it to you now, and I will be for the rest of our lives.”
Sneak attack. Taylor tried to speak over the lump in her throat, in barely a whisper. “Trav.”
“I know sweetie, but let me get this out first.” He gave her a moment to take in a calming breath before continuing. “I started watching the music videos, and the production on those is absolutely insane Tay. You started directing them, and it just blows me away every day, how fucking crazy talented you are. But what really does it for me are the live performances. At award shows, SNL, your tours, every time your energy is just so, I don't know, intoxicating. Just absolutely fuckin’ electric.” Travis suddenly leaned towards her, to really emphasize his point. “And baby, the way you stepped it up every era, the work you put in to get better and better, to be the best… Of course, the Eras Tour is such a success, look at everything that came before it.”
Taking a final breath, he finished, “So I guess doing all this was about staying close to you while we were apart ‘cus I missed you so fucking much. It was a way of learning your game, giving that support when I couldn't be there with you.”
There was a lot to cover in everything he shared. She had tried to keep track of it but then her heart had gotten so full to spilling over. But there was something she had to address first.
Towards the end of his confession, he had started playing with her hands, rubbing her palms, and smoothing fingers over years-old calluses and scars. It was one of his tells. Fidgeting and pacing, she knew, was a sign he was deeply bothered about something, and was trying to ease the anxiety. Recollecting on everything said, she tried to sus out what was causing it. Travis was always so open with her, always communicating his thoughts and emotions, it wasn't often she had to do this. God, he was more of an open book than she was, a novel experience for her. And it was because of that communication she knew he was holding back. Taylor had a sneaking suspicion that the tablet he had tossed aside earlier had something to do with it. It was like a tingling awareness on the back of her neck.
When he started twisting the rings around the base of her fingers, she stilled the anxious movements by squeezing his hands with hers.
“Thank you, sweetheart, thank you for saying that. Thank you for all this time and effort. Thank you for caring about my music at all. Thank you for just loving me the way only you do.” Lifting their hands she kissed the back of his once. Twice.
“You say it yourself at the beginning of every show, Tay. Your songs, your stories, they're the soundtrack to your life. If they're based on a real situation you lived, or just from your imagination, they come from you, they're a part of you. Every shade, every beam, every shadow of you is a part I want to know. I want all of you, Tay.”
“Well, if you want to know all of me, I want to know all of you. So,” she jostled their joint hands, “what was this about? I think your tablet might have something to do with it, hmm?”
He grimaced. “Caught that, huh?”
“If this is something you need to wait to share, I'll let it go right now, till you're ready. But all the parts of you are safe with me, Trav.”
Disengaging his hands from hers, he scrubbed up and down his face. “You're right, I'm being stupid.” Reaching, he grabbed his tablet, tapping in the code. “I'm not gonna leave you questioning this, just because I feel insecure.” He handed her the tablet.
Giving him a reassuring smile, she took a look. The screen was split between the browser and a note-filled page. Scrolling, she saw two pages, all of them about folklore. There were questions (wtf does calamitious mean???) reminders (look up B. Iver ltr.) annotations (stolen lullabies=her music) and general comments (curly bangs ♥️). There was no rhyme or reason to its order that she could follow, all of them interspersed with abbreviations and symbols only Trav knew the meaning of. On the browser side, he had the lyrics pulled up on Genius.
It might make her weird, but she wanted to print, and then frame that note-filled page. It would be a feature on the shelves of her music room.
“Did you do this for all the albums?” A quiet question.
“Ah no, nothing like this, not like I was trying to break down one of Reid's plays. Both folklore and evermore were… different. No matter how high I jumped, it still went over my head. I can't tell you how many times I've listened and I still couldn't really get it.” He looked at her disbelievingly. “You're so insanely smart, Tay. I knew that already, just living with you day to day, but seeing it expressed in your music, well they call it art for a reason and you're the reason.”
Leaning in closer to her, he scrolled across the tablet till he found what he was looking for. “A friend to all is a friend to none. Who writes like that? I've said it before, but I'm always amazed by your ability to turn life into poetry”
“Aristotle, actually.” The response had been automatic. She was still turning over every word in her head. When Travis started up with the praise, she soaked it up like a sponge.
“What?” he asked, even more incredulous.
"That's um, a quote by Aristotle. So you know this album was started during the pandemic. I was saying yes to everything, so trying new things I never had before, not just music but what I was watching and reading. I came across that, and it really resonated with me for a variety of reasons. So that's where it comes from,” she explained.
Absolute silence from Travis, where he seemed to just contemplate her. “Baby, you literally quoted a Greek philosopher in your music. That's even crazier than writing it yourself.” Exhaling, he rested his head back against Benji and said self-deprecatingly to the ceiling, “And I'm just a jabroni who can't even spell squirrel.”
Ah, there it was. The root of the anxiety.
Taylor had caught glimpses of it, the way he would insult his own intelligence. For the most part, there was maturity to it, a comfort in unabashedly being able to admit he wasn't the smartest guy in the room, but was secure in his own strengths, talents, and abilities. Then there were the few times like this, that it was obvious, at least her, that he was frustrated with himself not being classically “smart”. People saw his extroverted, playful personality dressed in his football uniform and thought he was a stereotypical jock. Taylor knew Travis wasn't fazed by it, and even used that perception of himself to get ahead and football and business. But it bothered the hell out of her, the way people would joke and insult him.
“Y’know this is the third time I've watched Long Pond? The first two times I kept getting distracted by you. Your facial expressions while talking or singing, all the emotions you were feeling. Seeing you talk about your music has become one of my favorite things. Experiencing you command stadiums full of people while doing your thing, Tay is a lifetime experience I never get tired of. But this other live version of you, hearing your voice this way…” Travis trailed off for a few seconds as if reliving it in his mind. “I don't really have the words for it.”
“Outside of that, Long Pond gives answers before you can even really ask the question. It was hard to just get by only listening to folklore, and I'm not sure what I'll do about evermore. Yet.” He said it determinedly, like there was no way in hell he wouldn't meet this challenge and not succeed. The look in his eyes and set to his face reminded her of gameday, he was that serious.
Travis lifted his hands to hold her face between them. Going on, seemingly unrelated, he promised “I'm going to be a fountain in this relationship that equally gives back to you, everything you give to me. Not another douchebag drain that sucks you dry.” It was a vow, to her, himself, and the relationship, their intertwined lives.
Shit. Taylor was half surprised he didn't get down on one knee and swear his fealty to her, like a medieval knight to a queen. She was worried that maybe he was under some misconception that she could ever question his faith and their relationship because Travis was her fountain. For him to think otherwise was beyond ridiculous, to border on actually crazy.
Taylor mimicked holding his face. “Sweetheart, you have to know you absolutely are a fountain to me, even without doing all this. I can't begin to list all the ways you have filled my life full. To think you could ever be a drain when all I feel is joy now is insane. You haven't wavered once, with the pure chaos that my life can be. The media fabrications about us, my fans, my haters, the world, all the noise… It's like when we met, we fell into synchronized step with each other, and we haven't stumbled once. Even the hard times are easy with you. It's like you have this magic touch that mutes everything outside of us, and then it's just happiness. And now I have this entirely different perspective of past relationships. Of course, they couldn't handle it, of course, they weren't meant to be, none of them were you. At last, I know what all the agony was for. It was all for you Trav, and I’d do it a hundred times over again for you.”
The glassy sheen to his eyes had her taking a shuddering breath, both of them overwhelmed with emotion. “So yes, you are my fountain, Trav. You fill me so full, all the time. I think that has to be it, there couldn't possibly be anymore and then it just keeps coming, like all of this,” she flung a hand at the screen. “You fill me anymore, it’s going to start spilling out of me, I - Are you okay?”
His face was flushed, tears spilling down his cheeks, lips pressed tight, and his eyes squeezed shut. More concerning was the way his body was shaking, trying to contain himself. What the fuck?
“Travis?” she asked hesitantly.
One look at her concerned face and he absolutely lost it. Hysterical, cackling laughter exploded out of him.
“What are you laughing at?” Concern gone, Taylor was verging on annoyed. Her heartfelt speech was interrupted because Mr. Chuckles thought it was funny?
“Sp-spilling out of you,” he gasped out, not answering her question.
“I can give you a minute, or maybe 10, to gather yourself. Clearly, you need them.” She moved to get up, feeling miffed.
Travis took a large breath, trying to get control, and failing. “Babygirl, babygirl, no.” He was still laughing though. Grabbing her close, he buried his face between her shoulder and neck. “Didn't you hear it? I was filling you up, so full it was spilling out of you? It wouldn't stop coming?” he said on a wheeze.
Suddenly understanding, her face flamed red. “Oh,” she mumbled. That set off another round of hilarity from Travis. She couldn't help but join him this time, because how did she not catch the double entendre?
“I'm dating a child,” she lamented after they had calmed down some.
“Oh, fuck me,” he sighed with a laugh, wiping his tears away. “Maybe it's you're just that funny, Tay. Get you a girl that can do both, quote Aristotle and make dick jokes. You'll be the happiest you've ever been.” He pulled her closer and kissed the side of her head.
“Aaanyway,” she drug out, clearly wanting to get back on topic. “I see you for who you are, Travis, and it is never a drain. Please never question my belief in you and then take on all this pressure to prove yourself when you already have.
Holding on to her, she could see him let go of that fear, and the peace that replaced it. “Okay, Tay.”
“Now,” she changed her tone and sat up straight because this was important, “do you think you would be one of the best tight ends ever, if not the actual best in the league's history, by being a “jabroni”? It takes a different kind of speed and intelligence to do what you do on the field. Nobody else can replicate it, and they can't keep up with you either. Everybody says it, even if they don't want to admit it.”
Taylor set her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him. “You have the respect and trust of your teammates, the coaches, the entirety of Chief's kingdom, hell the rest of the NFL, because of who you are. You don't help your team win two Super Bowls by being a jabroni. And this doesn't even begin to cover what you do outside of football. Your philanthropy, the business moves you're making in preparation for the next phase… You’re a leader on the field and in this community Travis, no jabroni would be able to pull that off. You don't have to prove yourself or keep apologizing for things that happened over 10 years ago.
“Tay,” he whispered, a look on his face she couldn't acknowledge or would take the breath right out of her.
“Shh, you said your peace, now let me say mine, sweetheart.” At his nod, she carried on.
“I'd much rather date a man who can acknowledge he doesn't know everything and isn't so insecure to the point he can't learn or seek support from others. To my regret, I've become intimately acquainted with men who are the antithesis of that. Most of the time, they're talking a lot of shit that everyone thinks is the height of genius, but people can't decipher beyond his fancy accent, artsy films, wearing scarves in 80°, use of fucking typewriters, or his signature style of acoustic guitar. And don't even get me started on the way they make grunge or tortured artist their entire fucking personality!”
She was ranting. She knew she was ranting by her raised voice and the look she caught on Travis's face. Brows raised, heat-filled eyes, and lips twitching slightly. A look she saw often because he thought her riled, take no shit attitude was mostly hilarious, but always “fuckin’ sexy”. He had said at one point that it was something about her looking like an angel who could tear you up from asshole to neck with her words alone.
“But I digress,” she said with an effort at calm.
“Please, don't stop now,” he teased on a mumble.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “My point is, most of what they say is shit because they're mostly talking out their ass. And that shit leaks, it ruins relationships. So as “smart” as they were, none of them could figure me out. You did. You understand what I need and what I want, even when I try to deny it.”
She pulled his move again, clasping his face between her hands, and kissed him. “You are not defined by the mistakes you made 13 years ago. Definitely not defined by a word you misspelled in a tweet from 13 years ago. Anyone who does think that is the jabroni.”
He kissed her this time, and not a small one either. Moved from her lips across her jaw down her neck where he paid extra close attention to that very sensitive spot.
“Travis!” she protested.
“Hmm?”
“I wasn't done yet.”
He pulled his head back. “It's been four fucking days without you, Tay. As grateful as I am and necessary as this talk was, it was not on the itinerary for our reunion, and it only made me want you more. So you finish, and I'll get started on your clothes.”
She felt a flutter in multiple places after that. As he started pulling up her sweater, she rushed out, “The only thing that matters to me about you and my music is that you care enough to try and the reason for why you care. Love you sweetheart.” Then she immediately started pulling up his shirt too.
“Fuck me.” It was almost guttural coming from his throat. “Love you too, sweetie.”
“I thought that was my line,” she flirted, scratching her nails across the plains of his chest.
He moved, maneuvering her from his lap to her back in one second to the next. It wasn't a flutter now, but a pulse in one specific place. She heard Benji jump from the couch and scamper out of the room.
“You done?” he asked against her neck.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Fuckin’ finally.”
…
A brief interlude while they make deep passionate love, I don’t have the experience or comfort level to write lol.
…
Travis POV
Taylor was boneless on the couch, cozy underneath the weighted blanket he had grabbed for them. At the moment, he was taking care of the washcloth he had grabbed for cleanup. Sometimes she saw to it herself, but Travis did it for the most part. He liked the added layer of aftercare, it was just as intimate as the actual act of sex, he had explained to her early on.
He felt his lips curl at the sight of her. He had missed her, missed this.
Travis strolled back into the room, dressed only in his pants from earlier, stopping to dim the lights a bit. On his way to Taylor, he leaned down to grab his sweater. Blanket or not, she wasn't really comfortable with being naked around the house, considering security could make an appearance at any time. They were mindful of privacy and boundaries, but there had been a few close calls in the past. Travis had no interest in putting anyone in that situation. Plus he just liked her in his clothes, wrapped up in him.
Joining her under the blanket, Travis pulled the sweater over her head, putting her arms through the holes. Since it was oversized on him, it was almost a dress on her. Good enough. He shifted her around, till she was half on top of him, cheek to chest. One hand in her hair, combing and playing, the other on her other cheek, ever so slightly stroking.
Travis was tapping on his phone, when he felt her smile against his peck, and said, “Missed you, sweetheart.”
Another step in time with each other, so in sync like she said earlier. “I was just thinking that. Missed you, babygirl,” he whispered against her hair. They lay in silence for a while, Taylor lightly dozing after a day of travel and other energetic activities, Travis slowly reflecting on everything said.
“Tay?” Another slow stroke of his thumb.
“Yeah?”
“What does antithesis mean?”
That question caused her to giggle-wheaze, which prompted a slight pinch to her ass from Travis.
“Ouch! It's umm, a person or thing being the exact opposite of another person or thing. Or a contrast of ideals or beliefs.”
“Ahh,” he said thoughtfully. “Like a fountain and a drain.”
He heard the humor leave her voice, replaced by something infinitely tender. “Yeah, sweetheart. Like a fountain and a drain.”
More long minutes of silence where he luxuriated in just being in her presence, committing this afternoon to memory. Four days had been hard, but soon it would be weeks when they were apart. Memories are all he would have to hold onto, instead of Taylor herself. It was cliche, but he couldn't quite recall life before her. Travis had been living a half-life, winning in football, and awesome people around him, but no person to make the journey with, to celebrate with on top of the world. Then she was in his life, and everything was whole. He could never go back to that half-existence. So he would preserve this time with her, sharing the big moments, and the small everyday ones too.
He thought she had finally fallen asleep when she said, “If you're open to it, I may have a solution to your evermore problem.
He stilled his stroking fingers. “What's that?”
He watched as Taylor lifted her head, stacking her hands on top of his chest, and then rested her chin there. “Well, you have the author right here, why not just ask me? It's your listening experience, so you could do it on your own and then ask me later. Or we could do it more similar to Long Pond, like I'd tell you a little bit behind the idea of the song, or what was going on when we made it.”
At her suggestion, he resumed running his fingers through her hair, dragging his other hand from her ass up her spine to her neck and then back down again. He was touched she would offer to do that for him, and would spend her time that way, but was a little bit hesitant to commit. Travis furrowed his brow as he asked, “Are you sure you would want to do that? Isn't it insulting to the artist to have them explain their art?”
He watched as she rolled that around in her head for a bit. Travis loved to see her thought process in action, loved to just observe her. Loved watching her mouth shape the words. Loved hearing the tone and shift in her voice. Loved looking at her beautiful blue eyes, with the thoughts and secrets hidden behind them. There were infinite layers to this woman, that he could see in her movements. The powerful, captivating strut down a stage, then the open joy in her running skip to him after a show. She was young at heart but could take on the aura of a person who had lived multiple lives. The sharp and soft edges of her should conflict, but they merged together to make Taylor who she was.
“No,” she said at last. “I think that's the point of art in any medium. To incite a conversation or thought, to inspire you to really think about the subject and learn how another person thinks about the same thing. I don't really have the privilege of discussing my music with too many people on a deeper level, even ones I'm close to, because I could never risk that.” Taylor rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Imagine the shit storm and headlines that would follow if any song was confirmed about an ex.” She deepened her voice to imitate a news anchor. “Swift Tells, Gyllenhaal In Hell, The Man Behind All Too Well.” She shivered. “God, Tree would kill me.”
Travis was even more doubtful now and opened his mouth to object further but she laid a finger against his lips. “I know how that sounds, but I trust you implicitly like I never have with another person. You said you wanted to know all the parts of me, and for the first time, I have a man I can trust them too. Trust him to keep them and take care of them.”
Travis had to agree he said that, wanted that. How could he possibly deny her that sense of security when it was obvious she wanted it, and it was in his power to give it to her? He pressed a kiss to the finger on his lips. “Thank you for giving me that trust, Tay. I swear I'll never break it.”
“I know. So is that a yes?” Taylor gave him big, hopeful eyes.
Travis curled his hand around the back of her neck. Fuck, she killed him. “Yeah, sweetie.”
“Yay.” It was so quiet, that he almost didn't catch it, but her volume didn't make her any less excited. The joy on her face said this was a gift more precious than any he could give her.
She was crazy, unlike any woman he had ever met, one of her many layers. He told her as much. “You're crazy, girlie.”
“Crazy about you,” she shot back through a slight yawn, quick as always when it came to their banter.
They could go round and round like this all day, but he could see the fatigue in her face. Emotional conversation with multiple orgasms on top of flying would take it out of her, not that she would admit it. His Taylor was resilient and competitive and he loved that, so was he. Sometimes though, in situations like these, he let her win, if only for her own good. He had to be sneaky about it. Some might say manipulative, but as far as he was concerned he was just taking care of her. She went the extra mile to take care of everyone and everything, all the time. She deserved to have a partner do that for her. But it was a nice perk that he got off on being that for Taylor.
Subtly, he'd been slowly setting the mood to get her to sleep. Dimming the lights, extra thick and fluffy blanket, and turning down the heat from his phone. Travis had noticed she slept better when the room was slightly on the cooler side.
His secret weapon was playing with her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. He had about an 80% success rate of getting her to sleep in 10 to 15 minutes with that move. What he had not anticipated was a simple vocab question veering them so far off course. Slowly he had gotten them back to that sweet spot. Eyes tired and cheek was back against his chest. Almost there.
“Okay, babygirl. Take a nap with me?” Travis kept his voice low and quiet, knew that would do it for her. He wouldn't be sleeping, had already rested up after practice this morning in preparation for their afternoon, but things hadn't exactly gone to plan. No problem either way, he was just happy to be with her.
At her slight nod against his chest, he relaxed. Success.
“Trav.”
Maybe not.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“You really don't mind that the rain will come with me.” It was more a statement than a question, said in half wonder half sleep.
Travis felt his eyes close, felt that burn in his chest. He knew what she meant, knew she was referencing the song she'd walked in on. Finally, here they were. He pressed a kiss to her hair, as he grabbed her hand to intertwine their fingers.
“You already know, babe. Like you said, we’ll be dancing in the rain. Fearless.”
A beat of silence.
“Love you, Trav.”
“Love you, Tay.”
And with that, she drifted off.