We’re Holding Hands As We’re Being Eaten!
Title: We’re Holding Hands As We’re Being Eaten!
Words: 606
Fandom: Gym Class Heroes (Travis/Matt)
A/N: Written for schmoop_bingo square holding hands. Technically part of Buskerville, specifically The Undefinable Cal storyline, but it stands alone as well.
"You ever worry about Cal?" Matt asks the ceiling, late one night when he's pretty sure Travis is asleep.
"Worry like how?" Travis answers back immediately, like Matt's pretty sure he knew he would. "Kid's amazing."
"Yeah, I know, just. You were pretty amazing, you still got picked on."
"I was amazing?" Travis shifts in the sheets, glances over his shoulder at Matt. "I was damn funny-looking until high school, and you know it. Why you worried about kids picking on him anyway?"
"I don't know, just. Thinkin'."
"Well stop it, it's keeping me up."
“You think ‘cause he-“
Matt stops, and this time it’s Travis’ turn to stare up at the ceiling, waiting for Matt to go on. When he doesn’t, Travis rolls over another quarter-turn, until he’s propped up on one arm and facing Matt’s direction.
“Cause he what?” Travis demands, a bit more bite in his bark than he means to but dammit, now he’s starting to worry about the kid. “Just what, Matt?”
“You think they’ll get on his case because he’s adopted?”
“…adopted.”
“Adopted.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Well…yeah?”
“Of all the things you coulda been thinking-two dads, interracial romance, fuckton of tattoos…the fact that he’s adopted is at the top of your list?”
He can barely see the outlines of Matt’s features in the light from the window, but he’s familiar enough with Matt’s face to know the exact scowl Matt’s shooting him. “Well tonight it’s at the top. I have the tattoos scheduled for next week though, and-“
“Smart ass,” Travis sighs, reaching out to wrap one arm around Matt, fingers scritching at his shoulder blades. “No, I don’t worry about what they’ll think about him being adopted, because even if he was somehow magically yours and mine biologically, it wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
Matt doesn’t answer, and Travis thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s got his mind settled and he’s going back to sleep. With a sigh Travis lets his eyes shut once again.
“Are you sure?”
Travis opens his eyes again. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because…” One of Matt’s hands finds the front of Travis’ t-shirt, a few fingers curling against his collar. “Sometimes…sometimes I think about Cal meeting his re-you know. His birth parents.”
“…and?”
“And what if he likes them more?” Matt asks in a rush. “They’re blood, they’re his, and we’re just-I get started thinking about all the things we’re not, we won’t ever be, and-“
“Stop right there.”
Matt actually manages to stop himself, but it takes some effort; the hand in his shirt is clenched, and even when Travis reaches up to cover it, it stays wound just as tight as it was before.
“Matt,” Travis says quietly. “We didn’t give birth to him, but fuck if we aren’t giving him life, man.”
“It’s not about semantics, Trav-“
“Our lives,” Travis goes on like he was never interrupted. “We shared them with him and he’s sharing his with us, and every minute of every day that we give each other, that’s something that nobody can take away. The memories, the experiences, the love-nobody. If he wants to find the people who’re responsible for his birth, he can go right ahead, far as I’m concerned, because they’re his birth parents. We are his parents.”
“Travie-”
“No qualifiers necessary.”
“Fuck,” Matt says with a sigh, burying his face in the pillow. His words are muffled as he asks, “Why can’t I be as sure about this shit as you?”
“It’s your week,” Travis grins a little, rubbing one thumb over Matt’s knuckles. “I get to keep you up worrying about tattoos next week.”
Words: 606
Fandom: Gym Class Heroes (Travis/Matt)
A/N: Written for schmoop_bingo square holding hands. Technically part of Buskerville, specifically The Undefinable Cal storyline, but it stands alone as well.
"You ever worry about Cal?" Matt asks the ceiling, late one night when he's pretty sure Travis is asleep.
"Worry like how?" Travis answers back immediately, like Matt's pretty sure he knew he would. "Kid's amazing."
"Yeah, I know, just. You were pretty amazing, you still got picked on."
"I was amazing?" Travis shifts in the sheets, glances over his shoulder at Matt. "I was damn funny-looking until high school, and you know it. Why you worried about kids picking on him anyway?"
"I don't know, just. Thinkin'."
"Well stop it, it's keeping me up."
“You think ‘cause he-“
Matt stops, and this time it’s Travis’ turn to stare up at the ceiling, waiting for Matt to go on. When he doesn’t, Travis rolls over another quarter-turn, until he’s propped up on one arm and facing Matt’s direction.
“Cause he what?” Travis demands, a bit more bite in his bark than he means to but dammit, now he’s starting to worry about the kid. “Just what, Matt?”
“You think they’ll get on his case because he’s adopted?”
“…adopted.”
“Adopted.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Well…yeah?”
“Of all the things you coulda been thinking-two dads, interracial romance, fuckton of tattoos…the fact that he’s adopted is at the top of your list?”
He can barely see the outlines of Matt’s features in the light from the window, but he’s familiar enough with Matt’s face to know the exact scowl Matt’s shooting him. “Well tonight it’s at the top. I have the tattoos scheduled for next week though, and-“
“Smart ass,” Travis sighs, reaching out to wrap one arm around Matt, fingers scritching at his shoulder blades. “No, I don’t worry about what they’ll think about him being adopted, because even if he was somehow magically yours and mine biologically, it wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
Matt doesn’t answer, and Travis thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s got his mind settled and he’s going back to sleep. With a sigh Travis lets his eyes shut once again.
“Are you sure?”
Travis opens his eyes again. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because…” One of Matt’s hands finds the front of Travis’ t-shirt, a few fingers curling against his collar. “Sometimes…sometimes I think about Cal meeting his re-you know. His birth parents.”
“…and?”
“And what if he likes them more?” Matt asks in a rush. “They’re blood, they’re his, and we’re just-I get started thinking about all the things we’re not, we won’t ever be, and-“
“Stop right there.”
Matt actually manages to stop himself, but it takes some effort; the hand in his shirt is clenched, and even when Travis reaches up to cover it, it stays wound just as tight as it was before.
“Matt,” Travis says quietly. “We didn’t give birth to him, but fuck if we aren’t giving him life, man.”
“It’s not about semantics, Trav-“
“Our lives,” Travis goes on like he was never interrupted. “We shared them with him and he’s sharing his with us, and every minute of every day that we give each other, that’s something that nobody can take away. The memories, the experiences, the love-nobody. If he wants to find the people who’re responsible for his birth, he can go right ahead, far as I’m concerned, because they’re his birth parents. We are his parents.”
“Travie-”
“No qualifiers necessary.”
“Fuck,” Matt says with a sigh, burying his face in the pillow. His words are muffled as he asks, “Why can’t I be as sure about this shit as you?”
“It’s your week,” Travis grins a little, rubbing one thumb over Matt’s knuckles. “I get to keep you up worrying about tattoos next week.”