Sal POV:
"Travis, there is no fucking way in hell you just beat my high score." Sal said as Travis held the beaten and bruised gearboy in his hands. "I did?" Travis raised an eyebrow. "I only got to a thousand points." Travis showed the achievement screen to Sal, pointing to his newest high score. "Yeah, and beat the game, asshole!" Sal joked, slapping Travis' shoulder.
"Oh, shit—I didn't mean to! I just got zoned in and didn't reali—" Travis stumbled over his words, displeased at the fact he seemed like a show off. "No, dude—don't be sorry, it's awesome! I haven't met anybody that was actually beat Clumpy, so, if anything I'm proud of you." Sal reassured Travis, smiling underneath his mask as Travis' face lit up, a bright red surfacing on his face.
"Yeah." Was all Travis managed to mutter out, his eyes were facing away, and Sal could tell he was anxious. "Are you okay? You look upset." Sal asked concerned, which only made Travis' heart race faster. "I'm fine."
"Travis you're shaking, your face is red, and you look pale. What's wrong?" Sal repeated, his face saddened at the sight of Travis so worked up. Maybe Sal was being too much, but he just wanted to know what was wrong. "I'm fine, Sal."
"But you're not."
"Sal, you're pushing it."
"Travis I'm only trying to help."
"Sal."
Sal sighed, frustrated at Travis. "Okay, I'm sorry." Was all he said. He didn't know what to do to get Travis to talk. They had made so much progress but it still wasn't enough for Sal. He wanted to know—needed to know what always made Travis so upset.
It drove him up the walls to see Travis upset and not be able to know what was wrong. He had always been like that, for everything. But even more so for Travis.
"It's fine, let's just do something else." Travis said in a monotone voice. He ran his fingers through his hair, adjusting the positioning of his side part. He flipped it into a middle part, yet again not satisfied. He made a displeased face and Sal simply stared, confused.
"You good, dude? You're actually like your hair is on fire or something." Sal said, almost laughing at how ridiculously Travis was acting. "It's my hair. It doesn't feel right." Travis replied. Running his fingers through his hair once more. "Elaborate?"
"It's like my hair just feels wrong. No matter which way I part it, it doesn't feel right." His eye twitched as he sat his hands down at his side, admitting defeat. "Maybe I could help? I'm not too good with hair, so, don't expect a glorified makeover or somethin'." Sal turned to face Travis, waiting for his approval.
"Go for it." Travis laughed, not believing in Sal's hair abilities at all.
Travis waited patiently as Sal grabbed a brush off his dresser and began to part his hair, "Uh, side part or middle part?" Travis simply shrugged and Sal let out a small hum, taking that as a chance to partake in his creative abilities. Sal wanted to make Travis' hair look nice, but nothing too outrageous. His goal was to simply rejuvenate his hair, just something new to try.
It wasn't anything crazy, but Sal did part Travis' hair on the opposite side, a slight difference to what Travis' everyday hair was. He made sure the part was straight and even, and overall put way more effort into this than he normally would anything.
Travis POV:
Travis' heart raced, basically pounding out of his chest. He could feel sweat dribble down his cheeks, and his face felt hot. So so hot. When Sal had finally finished messing with his hair and backed away he could feel every muscle in his body relax. During the entire 5 minutes Sal had spent parting his hair Travis' strained to keep still, hardly even breathing. He had balled up his fists so tight his knuckles turned white and had tensed his muscles so much you could very easily see how strong Travis really was.
Travis wasn't insanely strong, but he did spend every Wednesday coaching the kids at church, and his father made him join in on the church's football practice. So he did have some bit of strength to at least be able to withstand some of the blows his father threw at him.
"Is that any better?" Sal asked, viewing his finished 'art piece' of Travis' new hairdo. "Honestly, yeah. I mean, my hair doesn't make me want to jump off a cliff anymore, so I guess you did good." Travis said, hesitant to compliment Sal, but didn't want to say it looked bad and be rude. Not that the hairstyle was bad, it looked good on Travis. He just still felt the impulsive urges to be a total asshole, thought he held back.
"You should do my hair." Sal said, sitting back down next to Travis. "Oh, uhm—I'm not really good with hair, Sal." Travis replied, mainly not wanting to have to make contact with Sal any more than he needed to. "Nah it's fine, just go for it." Sal shrugged, basically forcing Travis into it.
Travis stood up in front of Sal and took down his hair, which nearly flustered both of them to death. Travis didn't know how to tell Sal to turn his head, so he embarrassingly had to place his free hand on Sal's jaw and turn it slightly. It wasn't very apparent that Sal was blushing, but if you looked closely you could see the tips of his ears were a bright red. Travis had noticed, but didn't assume anything of it.
Travis eventually got really focused into doing Sal's hair, making sure it was even yet natural looking enough, etc. Travis had put Sal's hair into a slightly messy bun, and took two strands of Sal's bangs and put them in front. Travis was blushing like a mad man, completely infatuated with Sal's new look.
"So, how do I look?" Sal asked, not really realizing how flustered Travis was. "G—good. You look good." Was all Travis managed to muster out. Sal got up and went to his bathroom to look at his hair, and after a few seconds walked back into the room. "Holy shit, Travis this looks awesome!" Sal said, genuinely shocked.
He didn't expect Travis to do a bad job at fixing his hair, but he obviously didn't expect something as hair-salon like as Travis had done. "Thanks. I—uh..used to do my hair a lot..when I was younger."
"You had long hair?"
"Down to my elbows, yeah. But my dad cut it off..he called it girly." Travis shrugged, seemingly not affected by it. Sal marveled in the idea of Travis having long hair.
Travis flinched at the sound of his watch's alarm going off. "Shit. It's time for me to head home. I'll see you tomorrow?" Sal nodded and Travis walked out of his room, returning momentarily to wave. "Bye, Sal."
"Bye, Trav."
{time skip}
Travis arrived home, opening the door and switching out his shoes. "I'm home, sir." Travis said quietly, but loud enough for his father to here. "You're late, boy."
"I'm sorry, sir. It's not that short of a walk."
"Are you talking back to me?"
"No, sir."
"Just go cook dinner, faggot."
Travis flinched at the insult and walked into the kitchen, thinking quickly on what to make. "What do you want for dinner, father?" Travis asked. "I don't care, just make something. You know what i like, so don't fuck it up." Kenneth scolded from the living room.
Travis decided on a steak, something easy, simple and something he knew he could make.
{time skip again I'm sry}
Travis laid out the dinner and sat down, waiting for his father. Kenneth promptly entered the kitchen and sat down across from Travis, he began to say grace as Travis bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Amen." The both said in unison. They both ate quietly, and awkwardly. And as soon as they were done Travis began to aggressively clean dishes.
When he has finished he began to put away this dishes, but Kenneth stopped him.
"Travis."
"Yes, sir?"
"Have you realized your mistake?"
"Uhm..no, sir?"
Kenneth grabbed Travis by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. His face was red with anger, a brute force of pure rage could be seen in his stare, his movements, his figure itself. "I'm sick of you putting no effort into everything you do, Travis. It's fucking tiring having to go behind you and fix every little mistake. You'll never make it in life. You're useless. You're worthless." Kenneth said, shoving Travis backwards.
Travis' back hit the counter and breathed in a sharp breath of pain through gritted teeth as the counter jabbed into his spine. He stayed quiet, nonetheless. "You're a fucking pain in my ass, Travis. If I wasn't with the church I would have fucking killed you already. You'd be nothing without me." Kenneth shoved Travis continuously into the counter, jabbing his back into the counter. Travis fought back tears, trying his best not to say anything.
"I hate you, Travis. Everyone hates you. No one would bat an eye if you died, Travis." Kenneth pointed his finger at Travis and began to dig it into his collarbone, his nail leaving a mark on the skin. Travis felt his world collapse, nearly. He believed every word his father told him. He had to. He had no other choice.
"Go to your room before I change my mind about sending you to the depths of hell early." Kenneth shoved Travis out of the way, almost knocking him to the ground. Travis complied without a word and went upstairs to his room. He sat down on his bed, letting the words his father said soak in. He repeated them in his mind, over and over and over.