[Intimacy has never come easy to him. Wes thinks too much and acts too little. He’s heard it a thousand times in his life, from employers to girlfriends to Alex, and even Travis.I don’t know what you’re thinking.He’s worked hard to craft this image, this facade of careful calm that he has almost convinced himself is really who he is.
Then he remembers things like the stormfront, and laughing so hard that his sides ache. Things like Travis running his hands down along Wes’ skin like he’s something to be appreciated and worshipped. ]
[Wes never talks about his feelings and he acts on them even less. It’s why it astounds him how effortless this all seems for Travis. Casual intimacy. He wonders, and not for the first time, if he’s doing something wrong. Because every touch makes his chest ache and his skin tight. He loves Travis an uncomfortable amount. Love wasn’t supposed to be like this, was it? It didn’t seem to be that way for Travis.
Wes was the one who pulled his gun. Twice. Wes was the one pushing, shoving. Causing fights. ]
I don’t know how to do this.
[He speaks softly, knuckles of his free hand pressed against his lips like it might keep his partner from hearing the words as he contemplates their entwined fingers. Was he incapable of being in love correctly?]
[Travis smiles. He smiles because it’s what spoken that gets him, sets his throat to tightening and urges him to feel Wes just to reassure his silent fear that someday his partner, them, will be gone.]
[He’s always known Wes was complex, difficult to pick apart and even harder to put back together but he needs it, needs Wes like he needs to breathe (and that scares him more than he’ll admit). Where he acts without thinking, Wes thinks before acting. Complete opposites, just different sides of the same coin. His fingers turn over Wes’ hand thoughtfully in his own, still keeping their fingers tangled together. Travis knows intimacy far too well, it was the one balm that helped him to forget the past, helped him from getting hurt but this is the first time he feels like he’s suffocating and needs to touch Wes somehow to ease the ache. But he doesn’t want Wes to worry, so he smiles, plays it off as if he knows what he’s doing when he’s just spiraling out of control and unsure of what to do or say.]
I know, baby.
[Travis says quietly, reaching up with his free hand to gently pull away those fingers trying to hide away the words. Leaning in, he steals a kiss, wanting to feel Wes and reaffirm that this is okay, just this, just them. Parting only an inch, Travis is talking, admitting things he should’ve said before but had neglected to say because he’d been worried of all things.]
I don’t either…this…us…but we’ll get it…we’ll find our pace, we can do this.
[Another kiss, this one bordering on hungry, starved even. Because Travis will never be able to feel or kiss his partner enough to ease the stifling suffocating feeling in his chest. Because he wants to focus on here and now, he wants to ease those worries and just tell Wes that it’s okay, that they’re okay, and nothing is wrong. It’s frightening how badly he just wants to protect Wes, to stand at his side until hell freezes over.]