Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cold breeze of the crisp fall air wafting through the window jolted me awake, and suddenly I realized I was somewhere I didn’t really recognize. I looked down at the bed I found myself in and I then remembered where I was: His room. Sal's.
Shit.
I look around more and recognize more of what happened last night. I recall all of the hazy memories that I blocked out from my mind of my father yelling at me, beating me. I pick my arms up and they’re sore, so sore that I immediately put them down due to the pain. The scabs are crusted over, not rock solid yet, but just messy lines from where my father beat me with the ruler. I reach for my shirt sleeves to pull them over my scabs and realize that they’re not there. My shirt is laying on the crusty, carpeted floor of 402 in the Addison apartments. I try not to groan. My back and hips hurt. I recall the long trudge to his apartment to apologize for being a dick and ask to take shelter there. He let me in, of course, that’s where I am. He even let me sleep in his bed. I can’t remember why my shirt is on the floor, however…
I get up, and I come to terms with what happened. We… no. No. NO. NO NO NO. I can’t be a dirty faggot, I just can’t. I’m so gross, and… Oh dear god, what have I done to deserve this horrible, sinful life? I know why my hips are sore. There he is, he was sleeping right next to me. I glance behind me over at the alarm clock, and it says 4:59 A.M. I reach for my shirt, and…

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The damn alarm clock is going off. I hear shuffling and a small grunt before the alarm is turned off. Sal stands up and I hear the clip of his mask.
“Good morning, Trav. Did you sleep well?” He remarks groggily.
“Yeah, sure, I-” I stop.
“You what? I… You- you’re- you’re a good kisser, Travis.” I don’t know what to say, actually. It gets quiet, so unbearably quiet. I can feel all the scabs and bruises on my body burn with shame. I turn back around to see that he’s staring at my arms.
“Travis, are you okay?”
“Yes. I don’t want your pity, or your help, Sally Face. I just want you to leave me alone today. Okay? Okay.” I honestly regret being so harsh, because my words cut through the air like ripping a piece of paper by jabbing a knife through the center.
“Geez, okay.” He mutters it underneath his breath, but I can still hear him. I just shut up, instead of yelling at him to not take The Lord’s name in vain. Sal doesn’t even believe in God, anyways. He’s a satanist. I mentally beat myself, anyway, because I don’t really believe in God either. It just seems unplausible, now that I think about it. I just followed Him because my dad made me. I waddle over to the bathroom, putting on my shirt as I go.
“Travis, you can go take a shower if you need, I know it probably will feel good to shower to clean out the… the.... yeah.” He cares about me. Hell, I thought he hates me, but I guess he really cares. After he talked to me that one time in the school bathrooms, he started meeting up with me to do homework and we bonded over music. We’re still not friends of any sort, but I’ve learned to tolerate him. I think we could be more than friends, if we tried. I shut and lock the bathroom door and take out a towel. The towels are a dark green, and they smell like him. They smell like the sweet scent of his hair dye. I set the towel folded out on the counter, and I turn the knob of the shower to the red “H” label on the wall. I didn’t notice where the showerhead aimed, however, because the cold shower water hit me in the face. I grabbed the towel and quickly dried off my hair. The shower quickly started producing steam and I noticed it once it started manifesting itself on the glass. I started washing my hair, and the hot water scalded the freshly formed scabs on my arms. It felt nice, in an awful way, because it felt so bad that it was refreshing to focus on that and not everything else going on. I wanted to deny what I am, and what I always have been and always will be. I wanted to die. The pain helped me feel alive, truly alive, like death was so close and it only made me more aware of my being. I got done with the shower and I started to dry off when I heard a knock on the bedroom door. Sal answered it, and he had a conversation with his father. I was too busy to listen in, plus it’s none of my business. Anyways, I started putting on my clothes when I heard some of the conversation:
“I told you, no boys are allowed to come over at any time when I’m not here, let alone SLEEP WITH YOU??” His father yelled.
“Dad, I- I- It’s just Travis. W-we didn’t sleep together.” He stutters a lot. It’s cute, honestly.
“Oh. In that case, CARRY ON. Go on, go fuck him!”
“Dad. I didn’t h-have sex.”
“Miss, I don’t like that attitude you’re having with me.” Right. I forgot he was trans. My dad had constantly been so hateful towards trans people, and I guess Sal’s dad was the same. I looked it up one time and it made a lot of sense, actually. Sal’s still a man to me, anyways.
“Travis is gay. You think I’m a girl, so he must not like me, right?”
“You and your little friends are so retarded. I wouldn’t be surprised if they indulged in your little fantasies.”
“Shut up, dad.”
“I care about you, you know that? I just don’t want you to be pregnant at 16. I know that if you were to have sex, I just think that it’s better to have condoms on hand and-” I heard the sounds of Sal rushing his father out of the room. He must be embarrassed. He’s told me about his dad drinking and his mood changing constantly. I guess that might have happened, because that morning I heard his dad come into the house early this morning, and the last night he did mention his dad going to a bar.
Then Sal knocked on the bathroom door.
“Travis, are you done in there? We need to get going to school.”
“Yeah, let me put my shirt on.” Once I finished getting dressed, I left the bathroom and saw he was wearing some ripped red skinny jeans with black spiderweb fishnets underneath, paired with a black sabbath band t-shirt that looked to be about two sizes too small even with the skeleton cut out in the back. He had recently dyed the tips of his hair red, and the rest was still blue like it is naturally. He had his bangs teased up a little, and his hair was curly at the ends of his pigtails. He also had red eyeshadow and eyeliner on underneath his prosthetic on his untouched eye. His prosthetic eye was also red. He was wearing what must have been ten pounds of necklaces and belt chains. He was leaning on the wall sassily, which was kind of funny to me. He was texting someone, probably Larry.
“You ready?” He looked at me with his striking blue eye, which delicately penetrated my soul.
“Sure.” We left his house and I took what little belongings I had left in my school backpack. It wasn’t very heavy. We started the trek to his car and he spotted Larry. Larry walked up to us and I hid behind Sal. He was larger than me. Larry didn’t notice me until I snuck out from behind Sal.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Larry stared at me. I wanted to hide behind Sal again.
“His dad is being shitty. Have some compassion, Lar. He’s staying with me, so I want you to treat him nice. He’s promised not to harass us anyways, plus he hasn’t in years.”
“Fucking Christ. Okay.” He looked at me quizzically.
“What, you’re not going to tell us to ‘not use the lord's name in vain’ or whatever?”
“No. I don’t actually… it’s complicated.”
“Wow. You really have changed, Traaaavis.”

Chapter Text

In our sixth period class, Sal got misgendered by Mrs. B, even though he’s probably corrected her about a hundred times. Larry finally snapped and punched Mrs. B, so he’s suspended for the rest of the week. On the bright side, it’s Thursday, so he’s only suspended for Friday. I got to sit at the lunch table with Larry, Sal, Ash, Todd, Chug, and Maple, even if I’m sitting on the end of the bench next to Sal. It beats my old table, where I was usually alone. I hate it when seating moves, but I guess this is okay. Larry is warming up to me (I think), or at least he doesn’t hate me. Sal and his friends are actually really nice people, and I want to be friends with them. I wish I hadn’t been so mean to Larry and his friends the past few years, because they definitely still resent me. I wish my dad’s influence didn’t fuck with me so much, either, because I was such an asshole. After the school day ended, Sal drove me home. When we got there, he gently sat his keys down on the dresser by the entrance and we played video games on his old PS4. It was a little dented up, so were the controllers, and one even was covered in duck tape. I guess someone gets a little hot-headed when they play video games, and it’s not Sal. He was so serene. He just made confident little harsh breathing sounds when he was beating me. He beat me four times in some game I had never played and haven’t played since. His dark red and blue hair was blowing around in the warm apartment heater air. When I finally gave up, he just said a satisfied “Okay” and put the PS4 things away. He’s so orderly in all parts of the house except for his room. His dad is out, I assume at the bar again. We got to his room and I just stood awkwardly. God, I’m such a dork.
“Hey, Trav, you can sit down on the bed if you want.” He looked over at me.
“Uh… okay.” I sat down obediently. He’s so hot.
Sal takes out his phone and starts doing something. I just do the same. My phone is so ugly, but at least it’s mine. I saved up for years to get one for myself. I started working at an extremely young age, and before that I just stole from the church donation box. My dad never bought me a phone because “A phone is a gateway to satanic influence”, as he would say. I hate him so much. At least I’m here and not there. I just try to make myself disappear as I’m playing some soulless mobile game. After what seems like six years, Sal turns his phone off.
“Trav, you good? I think you’re paying too much attention to that game.”
“I’m fine.” I quickly shove the phone down and it makes a whump sound on the bed comforters. The room gets so unbearably quiet for the first time this afternoon. Things have been tense between him and me since this morning. What can I say, it’s awkward to interact with someone who you fucked last night. You can’t just do that and be platonic friends directly after. That just doesn’t happen.
“T-t-travis, I’ve been avoiding it all afternoon, but… do you want to…?” His tone spoke for itself, though he motioned to the bed anyways. The question barely caught me off guard, but that’s more than it not.
“I- uh… yeah. I would like that.” It feels funny, since this is my second time doing this, and the question feels funny, but it’s nice that he cares enough to ask for consent.
“Uh… okay. I-I-I…” He started to comb through his hair with his hands.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I know that you’re the one that asked in the first place, but I just feel like you’re losing your confidence, and…”
“Yes, I want to do this. I r-really, truly do. And Travis?"
“Yes?”
“Just so you know in the future, I comb my p-pigtails during any time of emotion, but it’s usually not a bad thing.”
“Good to know.” I stood up and started taking off the sweater that was my mother’s. It’s my only real piece of warm clothing. My body’s pretty slim from my father withholding meals, but I have a little muscle from running as my only form of transportation. I’m covered in various signs of physical violence inflicted onto me, such as bruises and scars and scabs. I unbutton my jeans and slide down the zipper underneath, creating a little ‘zzt’ sound as it goes down. Sal removes his clothes and accessories at a rapid pace, shocking for how much he had on. I watch patiently as he takes down his pigtails gently, one by one, and finally he unclips his mask. He’s left standing there in his hello kitty boxers and some tape over his chest. He gazes longingly at me, reaching out for my body and embracing it quickly. His mouth interlocks with mine, and he forces me back into the bed behind me. He quickly slips his tongue in and I nibble at his lip gently. Soon enough, our mouths were one. His legs tangled with mine as I tried to adjust myself to not fall off the bed whilst our tongues and lips were still a mixed up, beautiful mess. I pushed my tongue further back into his mouth and he let out a little whimpering moan. He mimicked my tongue’s movement and soon our kiss was moving back and forth rhythmically. I felt every inch of his skin hot on my body, I felt his pulse against mine. He reached for my hips and I moved my arms to accommodate. He put his hands underneath me, the only part of him that was cold. It wasn’t the piercing cold, however; it was that soft, inviting cold that feels soothing on your skin. He pushed his hands along my lower back before grabbing the middle of my hips where the waistband of my underwear rested. He calmly pulled my boxers off, and once they were on the floor he guided my hands to take his off too. I was so vulnerable in that moment, out in the open and exposed. Pulling away from our tender kiss, he gently pulled his warm mouth down near my exposed sex. His wet tongue lowered on my dick, and god did it feel so good. If this was sinning, I never want to repent. I felt myself growing hard. He lifted and dropped his head repeatedly on my cock, and soon he built up a rhythm. He massaged it gently with his tongue and finally I realized I was cuming in his mouth. The cum was all in his mouth, I could feel it on my sensitive skin. He still kept going. When he finally stopped, I looked at him even more longingly than before. He just met my gaze, before I asked him a question I needed to ask.
“Can I… fuck you. Actually fuck you.”
“Did you bring a condom?”
Fuck.
“No..”
“I’ll let you finger-fuck me. Hmm?”
“Yes please.”
So I brought my hands down in between our messy entanglement of body parts. I gently massaged the area around his clit. When I looked up at him through his long, blond lashes as he pressed his lips to his pubic bone, leading a trail of soft kisses down to Sal’s clitoris, it was heaven. My tongue made up for the fact that my fingers were moving far too slowly for Sal’s liking. Sal thrusted his hips toward my tongue, encouraging me to do more. Sal lowered his head down and sucked hard on my skin, giving me a hickey. It felt so much better than I thought it might.
With my index finger pressed fully inside of him, I felt around, stroking his soft inner walls. My other hand was able to find my dick again, stroking myself just as slowly as I did with Sal. I could almost imagine what it would be like to press my cock inside Sal’s soft, wet pussy.
“Mmm..” I moaned softly.
“Trav.. hurry up…” Sal whined. “P-p-put a second finger inside of me..”
I was a begging puppy at Sal’s will, I wouldn’t have to be told twice. I pulled his first finger out, holding my index and his middle fingers together before letting them both back inside him. God, he was so warm. I kind of felt like he was going to pass out due to the amount of blood in his face. I pulled my tongue from his skin, taking a moment to admire the way Sal took my fingers.
“Fuck…”
Sal chuckled slightly. “Bring a condom next time..”
Sal wanted it just as bad as I did. I thrusted my fingers up into him, rolling my tongue across Sal’s clit.
“Holy shit..” Sal panted, grinding down against my face. I was doing something he liked. I got the hang of moving my wrist, pressing his fingers inside of him, rubbing against sensitive walls. I slowed his other hand to keep his focus, letting my cock beg for attention between my legs. Sal moved his hips in small circles, letting my tender fingers hit him at a few different angles, making my tongue flick over his clit. I was so close… He just needed a little more.
“Mmnhh… Don’t ever stop…” Sal whimpered. I would be happy to oblige. I could feel him releasing around me, his thighs shaking beside my head. I did my best to hold myself together, my tongue finally letting up so as to not overstimulate me. I had finished with this, and I already missed it. I loved every second of it, immaculate pleasure from some divine feeling that should be illegal, it was so damn good. I reluctantly put my underwear back on and Sal did the same. I folded my clothes on the floor next to my backpack. We both slipped into bed under the covers and embraced gently, cuddling after this intimate moment.

Chapter Text

The next morning, something was different. Sal was no longer next to me. I heard the light twinkly guitars of “never meant” by american football coming from the bathroom. When I went over there, the door was locked and I heard him crying softly. It sounded like he had been crying for a while, because he was hiccuping.
“Sal? Are you okay in there?” I asked him. He didn’t answer. “Sal?”
“W-wha-what do you care, Travis?” He was still hiccuping.
“I’m just worried, I care about you. Can I come in if you don’t mind?”
“Okay.” He hiccuped in before the Y. The music went off, and I heard some swishing, like he was moving towels around in there. The lock clicked and the doorknob moved a little.
“Okay, I’m coming in.” I opened the door and Sal was sitting on the counter with a towel over everything but his head and most of his legs. He was wearing his South Park pajama pants.
“Are you cold?” He thought about it a bit before nodding, silent tears still falling down his cheeks, which were red from crying. His mask was off, and I could see all of his scars and imperfections in the bright bathroom lights. I noticed now that one side of his face was almost completely destroyed, covered in various deep indents and keloid scars, and there were pieces missing from his cheek where you could see the inside of his mouth. The other side of his face had a small, faded scar, but other than that it was almost perfect. He was beautiful. His pale face was sprinkled with little freckles on his strawberry-colored skin like seeds on a strawberry. His cheeks were so red that they matched the red at the ends of his hair, but you could barely see the red on the destroyed side on the account that he was, well, destroyed. That’s when I noticed it: a pocket knife on the counter. It had some blood on the blade.
“Sal… I… Can you take off the towel so I can see you?” He sharpened his gaze, staring at me with his tear-filled eye. The other eye had a matching blue prosthetic eye, and he was tearing up there, too. His hair was soaking wet. The curly ends of his hair were making nice little ringlets hanging down at his chest, not even in pigtails yet. He didn’t answer me, but he nodded silently. When I took off the towel, I saw that he was covered in raised, purple scars all over his arms, and there were more white scars on his hips peeking up over the waistband of his pants. His right forearm was covered in gaping, bleeding cuts like what I had after my father would hit me with the ruler. There were so many cuts that I could barely see the other scars underneath. There were layers and layers of them. On his left arm, there were so many scars that I couldn’t see the skin underneath. There was one gap. There were about 10 2-inch long gashes, all starting to scab over. He just looked at me with sadness and anger and shame in his eye, but I could tell he wasn’t angry at me. His gaze softened into just sadness and shame.
“I… Come on. Let’s get you fixed up.” He was shorter and a little bit smaller than me, but I lifted him with ease (princess-carry style). He was bulky for his size, but still pretty tiny. His towel fell underneath him, draped over my arm. I felt a tear hit my other arm. I set him down in the shower and I grabbed the blanket I had stolen and carried over here when I knew my father wasn’t at the house. He was shivering from the cold now. I spotted a singular lock of still blonde hair where he didn’t dye it red on accident. The band-aids and hydrogen peroxide made him wince at the sight, but I just carried on. He made little whimpering sounds of pain every few times, and when he did I wanted to cry. He shouldn’t be in pain. He doesn’t deserve this.
“Sal, why did you… do this?” He looked up at me with his eye, red from his tears.
“M-my dad. He kept calling me things I can’t quite remember anymore. The only thing I can remem(pause)ber was the fact that he was getting on me for not just ‘staying in my place’ and ‘being a girl like I should’ and then he went on a rant about how your father was right and I am just a dirty sinner.” He coughed and choked back his tears a bit. The hydrogen peroxide was fizzing now. I reached over and dabbed a little more on the other side, and the silence was so loud that you could hear the nothing, and it was everywhere and everything. I looked a bit closer at his face and I realized that there was blood dripping down from his skull.
“Sal, there’s blood on your head.” I looked closer and there were pieces of a beer bottle lodged in his skull. “Holy shit, we need to go to a hospital, like, right now.” Right then, he passed out in my arms.

Chapter Text

I finished bandaging Sal up and put a shirt on him before hoisting him up and taking him to Larry’s. Larry answered the door and immediately understood what happened, taking the blue-haired boy into his own arms and telling me we need to hustle to Sal’s car and the hospital. He offered to drive and I accepted.
Sal was still unconscious in my arms in the back seat, and a bit of blood fell down his face and landed on my arm. I held his head so it didn’t get even more damaged. I started silently crying, praying to whoever was up there that Sal would be okay.

I love him.

Larry was now speeding down the highway, and a cop car pulled him over before seeing Sal in my arms, and the officer told us to go just this once. Larry almost ran her over, he drove so fast. Larry was also crying, and he was crying ugly tears. I had never even seen him cry before. I wanted to scream, to make sure that everything was okay. The blood started seeping through the bandages on his arms.

“Please, Sally Face, please be okay.” I heard Larry repeating that over and over under his breath.

Once we arrived at the hospital, we rushed him into the E.R. and immediately got told to go in as fast as possible. There was nobody there, just us, which wasn’t unusual for the hospital on the edge of Nockfell. We were in a room, and a nurse carefully hooked him up to many different machines, all beeping in intervals like they were taking turns.
After she finished with his right hand, I grabbed it as the nurse moved on to stitching up the cuts on his left hand and in his skull. The glass bottle apparently didn’t do that much damage, but still it was enough to need stitches.
When the nurse had finished with all the cuts, she left us in the room with him. Larry stepped out, the look on his face one of sadness and fear. Sal blinked open his eyes, and then immediately shut them again when he saw the light. He took a second to adjust to the surroundings and looked around, and then finally he realized what had happened.

“Trav, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you, I’m sorry for being a burden, I…” His voice had gotten deeper and raspier. He was crying again. “Did anyone else come with us? Can you tell them I’m okay? Is Larry here?” I nodded and let go of his hand, getting up to go get Larry.

“Travis. Is he awake?” Larry was sitting in a little blue wooden chair covered in painted polka dots outside of the room. I let him know Sal was awake and took him in, before stepping out to let them have some alone time to talk. It was only five-ish minutes before Larry stormed out, fuming.

“Go in there. You’re staying here with him tonight, Travis.” He said my name like cold daggers made of dry ice. It hurt. I went into the room and it was so quiet.

“Travis… I… Larry doesn’t actually like me. He doesn’t care. He was my friend out of pity.” Sal was crying. He was probably really dehydrated.
“Stop crying, please. You’re going to pass out again, you’re really dehydrated.”
“O-Okay.” He sniffled back his tears and used the blanket that was still draped over him to dry off his face. “I… I want to be a couple. I want to date you, and not hide it or anything. I want to be unapologetically and undeniably in love. I love y-you.” This took me aback, but I wanted the same. I loved him.
“I love you, Sal. I love all of you, but please, never scare me like that.” I leaned over and pulled him into a kiss, and our noses brushed as I supported his wounded head. Just then, a nurse walked in.
“Well, I would just like to point out there were no significant injuries, but we will need to give him a blood transfusion, because he did lose a decent amount of blood. Is that okay, Miss Fisher?”
“Yes.” He winced when the nurse called him Miss.
“Are you in pain?”
“Well, a little… but… well, it’s nothing.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you two here.”
“Thank you.” She walked out of the room, and as the door shut I saw her laugh to herself. I guessed it was about her seeing us kiss when she walked in.
“Trav, can you go over to the house and pack us some overnight bags?” Sal asked.
“Sure, Sally Face.”
“Thanks, darling.” It felt weird to hear him call me darling after all that I had done to hurt him in the past.