Tw: mentions of abuse, homophobia, religious trauma
A/N
I'll try to update this fanfic once a day, but later on that may change to once every two days, or possibly once a week. Happy reading!
Travis buttoned up his white shirt, hiding his battered chest. He slicked back his fake blonde hair, gently smoothing it down with gel. He looked up to the bathroom mirror, the bruise on his right eye had worsened, and served as a frame for his blood shot eyes. Travis had spent most of the night crying his eyes out, he was a sinner, and Sal knew it. Sal knew his most horrendous secret, one he wished to keep private, especially because Sal was a large part of it. It had been a whole day since Sal brought it up, but the conversation had consumed his mind, nothing else was able to penetrate his thoughts. Travis wiped his eye before leaving the bathroom, walking to the front door. Kenneth already stood by the open door, he spotted Travis. He grimaced at his son's appearance.
"You know what we say about crying, son." Travis nodded
"Boys don't cry." He managed to choke out.
Kenneth scoffed, "Clearly you don't know that well enough. We will decide your punishment after church." Travis remained silent, following his father to the car in the driveway.
Travis sat among the pews, only half listening to the members of the congregation drone on. His mind could not rest, filled with his inner monologue of hate. Travis was out of place here, he didn't belong with these people, he was nothing but a filthy sinner, a faggot. A choir could be faintly heard, the harmonic voices blending into nothing but amalgamated noise to Travis's ears. How could god ever forgive Travis for such an appalling feeling? No matter what he did, nothing could suppress the way he looked at Sal, the way his laugh echoed in Travis's mind, the way he'd smile when Sal would walk by. Nothing would be able to free him from this torture, how could God be so cruel? Travis was snapped out of his trance-like state by a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Go be useful and collect the trash from the bins, you know what to do with it." Travis smiled uncomfortably at his father and started walking down the aisle when his father spoke again.
"Don't think I didn't notice you today. God noticed as well, if you ever intend on going to Heaven, you'd better start paying attention." Travis tensed his shoulder, knowing his disciplining would be increased once they returned home.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry." Kenneth grunted in response, allowing Travis to continue his task.
He hoisted the black bags over his shoulders, Travis stumbled slightly due to the unexpected weight. He forced the door open, permitting the sunlight to seep through the opening and into the dimly lit back room. Travis forced each bag into the large dumpster behind the Church. Although the garbage bags had been removed from his back, the weight on his shoulders had been slowly increasing, smothering him.
"Travis?"
It was his voice. Travis knew it was, for it was the same voice that infiltrated his mind, the voice that had destroyed any belief that God made him in his image. Travis turned and sprinted towards the propped open door, Sal saw the trajectory of the other boy and shoved it closed before Travis could even make it within ten feet. Travis's eyes switched to Sal, unintentionally admiring him. His light blue hair shone in the light, swept back into thick pigtails, his brilliant blue eyes were soft and loving, he wore a t-shirt from a metal band Travis didn't recognize, his red jeans were ripped at the knees, his fingernails were painted black, although Travis didn't need to look to know that. He'd stared at Sal's hand plenty of timed before, wondering what it would feel like to intertwine Sal's fingers between his. Travis tripped backwards, trying to escape from the blue-haired boy.
"Please just wait, Travis! I'm sorry, okay?" Travis stopped moving, his eyes locked with Sal's. He could feel tears prickling at the back of his eyes.
"I know you're upset, but I need you to hear me out." Sal stepped forwards, closer to Travis.
"Right now you're confused and you're scared and I know you feel alone, but you're not. I don't understand your situation, but I want to be able to help. Deep down I know you're not a bad person, Travis, please let me see that." Tears started falling down his cheeks, he was unable to speak. All Travis could do was cry, despite his fathers harsh words earlier that same morning. This was just another broken rule in a list of many. Sal's emotionless face was turned to Travis, though his eyes portrayed any feelings he may have needed to convey. He held out hand to Travis, offering to help him off the gravel covered concrete. Travis's eyes darted from Sal's eyes to his outstretched hand, searching for a reason. Why would Sal want to help him after everything? Sal shook his hand encouragingly, signaling Travis to allow his help. Slowly, Travis placed his hand into Sal's. His hands were soft and warm, Travis clearly wasn't used to much physical contact by the look on his face. Sal pulled him up, standing next to him.
"Will you let me help you?" Sal's voice was calm, it sent shivers down his spine.
"I- uh. I don't-" Travis couldn't focus on any words, he was too distracted by the fact that Sal hadn't let go of his hand after Travis was standing. Sal noticed this and pulled his hand away, Travis's heart ached at this simple gesture.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's fine." Travis mumbled back, refusing to express his actual emotions. "I have to go, my father is waiting for me."
"Oh okay, but will you? Let me help you I mean." Travis had already walked to the side of the building, ignoring Sal's question entirely. He would have loved Sal's help, he wanted nothing more, but he couldn't. This wasn't allowed, perhaps God would forgive Travis if he didn't act on his sinful thoughts.
Word count: 1039