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trigger warnings; referenced abuse, referenced self harm, referenced rape, referenced cults, referenced religious trauma/abuse, homophobia, ableism.
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Travis blinked his eyes open as sun rays filtered in through a crack in the blackout curtains hanging in the room he shares with Sal. It must have been early, earlier than he was usually awake, as he couldn't yet hear the sounds of Sal's friends- Who shared the large house, and in turn, the hefty rent, with the two- walking around the house yet. Typically, when Travis awoke around 10 AM, he could hear coffee brewing in the kitchen, typically Todd or Neil making it, while the other of the duo hung around in their loft upstairs.
There would be the sound of Gizmo listening to the TV loudly in the living room, usually a crime show. That was Gizmo's top pick. Larry would not yet be awake that early, and neither was Sal. Travis didn't mind Sal's habit of sleeping in, he knew Sal needed the sleep. Even so many years after his accident- Which took quite a while after the two began dating for Travis to hear the details of- He still suffered from terrible nightmares. But, he had been through so much even after the accident.
Sal had lost so much. He deserved, at the very least, to sleep in.
Besides, Travis definitely didn't mind waking up to the sight of his boyfriend sleeping. Sal looked so peaceful when he was asleep, and Travis loved taking in the sight of what he could only describe as the most perfect man he'd ever met. Sal didn't think of himself as perfect by any means, face mauled from a gunshot he'd suffered when he was just a child, arms scattered with long ago healed scars from self mutilation. And that was just the physical stuff. Sal had a lot of mental stuff going on, too. And yet, despite all that, Travis thought he was perfect.
Travis had the very same things wrong with him, too. Trauma, so much trauma. Scars, so many scars scattered across his body. Not a single inch of himself was lacking a scar. Either dealt by himself, the cult he was in before Sal saved him from that wretched thing- and, in turn, saving the world- or Kenneth. His very own father.
Travis viewed himself the very same way Sal viewed himself. They were the same, yet so different. And still, they both thought the other was perfect. Which is exactly why, on this early morning in late July, buried under the comforter on Sal's bed and drenched in sweat, Travis didn't get up as soon as he awoke.
He stayed in bed for God knows how long, taking in the sight of Sal's perfection, so peaceful in his sleep. Despite all the flaws Sal had, he was perfect in Travis' eyes, and Travis didn't think he'd ever be able to think differently about the boy he'd loved since they were 15 years old. He had loved Sal Fisher for 13 years, there was no way it was stopping any time soon.
