What the fuck was Matthew thinking with that goddamn sign?

Seriously. What. The. Fuck.

If this was his idea of a joke, then it definitely wasn’t funny. Travis tried not to brood about it, because Lance seemed willing to brush it off, but seriously, the moment he got the chance, he was going to have a good long talk with Matthew about interfering in other people’s lives. Maybe that had worked in Matthew’s small hometown in Georgia, but it wouldn’t work here. People appreciated their privacy...especially Lance.

Lance seemed perfectly okay with dismissing it, though it could be an act to make sure Travis didn’t go back to the kitchen and yell at Matthew the way that he wanted to. He knew that Lance had never been the kind of person to appreciate attention. He liked privacy. Couldn’t Matthew have done this to, say, Davis, who loved attention and was actively looking for a date? Lance broke out in a sweat if it looked like a guy was even so much as thinking of flirting with him.

He steered the conversation towards work and what to do about the fire, and for a bit, he thought that he’d fooled Lance into thinking that he was okay. After they’d paid the check and were preparing to head out, Lance said, “I know something’s still on your mind.”

Travis sighed, then jerked his head at the sign. “What do you think’s on my mind, genius?”

He couldn’t explain the strange twist in his chest whenever he saw that sign. He could sort of explain why it was upsetting—calling the shyest guy in town the most eligible bachelor just seemed thoughtless and a way to get him unwanted attention—but that was all intellectual. This odd, possessive feeling that made his breath catch in his throat, he didn’t understand that.

Lance sighed. “Listen, this’ll all blow over faster if we don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But people might actually take it seriously, Travis thought. Someone might actually ask you out.

He didn’t know why that was so upsetting to him. Sure, someone might ask Lance out. It wasn’t like Lance was the type of guy who disappeared the moment he got a boyfriend—cough, Davis, cough—or had to then drag that boyfriend everywhere like they were glued at the hip—cough, Jake, cough.

If Lance did get a boyfriend, Travis was sure that Lance would still make time for his friends. He wouldn’t force the boyfriend on them too soon or insist that everyone like him immediately and bring said boyfriend to every single get together. Lance was the most thoughtful of their friends that way. It was, Travis suspected, part of why Lance was shy. Part of it was just not wanting tons of attention on him, true. But Travis thought it was also that Lance didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing and upset someone or make them think less of him.

How could anyone who had just met Lance—who had just seen the picture on the chalkboard—know any of that? They’d probably want to impress Lance and do some big romantic gesture, and they’d be half right, because Lance did like romance, but not somewhere public, and this person would inevitably do it somewhere public, and Lance would be embarrassed, and…

And would they know that Lance needed things taken slowly? That he needed to build up a friendship, in a way, before he was comfortable with doing proper dates? That the first few dates would probably be lazy movie nights on the couch with pizza and that the person probably wouldn’t even get to third base until five dates in?

No, they wouldn’t know any of that, they’d just go straight for the conventional dating and the conventional romantic gestures, and they’d expect sex by the third date at the latest, and it would all be a disaster, and Lance deserved better than that.

It was all kind of giving Travis a panic attack and he really wasn’t sure why.

Protectiveness, he reasoned. After all, who’d been the one to pick up the pieces of Lance’s heart in high school after Luke? And who’d helped Lance through his breakup with his one college boyfriend, that bearded football player who’d cheated on him?

Travis might have broken that guy’s nose, but Lance didn’t know about that and hopefully never would.

So yeah, if Lance’s heart was going to get stomped on yet again, Travis was going to be the one that had to help him through it...not that Travis minded helping him through it. Honestly, those times after a breakup when Lance was actually leaning on Travis for support… it was twisted, sure, and probably not at all emotionally healthy, but Travis treasured those times because it felt… right. It felt as if Lance should always be looking to Travis for support in that way.

Not that Lance wasn’t capable of standing on his own two feet or anything…

Travis had completely lost where he was going with this.

It was probably a good thing, because Lance was looking at him like Travis had grown a second head. “Trav. Hey. You okay?”

“What? Yeah, sorry. You ready to go?” Travis gave Lance his most charming smile and hoped that Lance wouldn’t pry any further, not when Travis himself didn’t even know what was going on in his own head.

“Yeah, sure.” Lance eyed him suspiciously. “You just look like you’ve run smack into a wall.”

If only he knew. “Sorry, I got lost in thought.”

They exited the café, and Lance let out a long-suffering sigh. “Trav, you don’t have to lie to me. I know what this is about.”

Travis seriously doubted that, since how could Lance know what was going on in Travis’s head when Travis didn’t even understand himself what was happening?

“It’s about talking to your dad, isn’t it?” Lance bumped his shoulder gently against Travis’s. “Look, we should really just talk to him and get it over with. I promise it’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

Travis couldn’t even begin to handle the rush of relief that swept through him. Lance was thinking about something else entirely—and then he realized what Lance was talking about.

Ah, shit. Lance was right. They should just get this whole thing over with. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. We can…walk there...or something.”

Lance sighed. “Let’s walk there. Okay? And along the way, I will remind you that despite what you seem determined to think, your dad does not think that you’re a disappointment.”

“It’s not that.” Travis tried to keep his voice from slipping into a growl. He hated discussing this sort of thing.

The thing was, his mom had died when Travis was too young to remember her. He felt, honestly, like he was the only one who didn’t miss her. He missed more the possibility of what he could have had, the way that poor kids wished they were rich. His older brothers had missed her though. Travis was pretty sure they felt her absence more than he did.

The biggest thing when it came to the loss of his mom was that Dad never remarried. Never even looked at another woman, or so Luke’s dad had said, back before the crash. Bill, the former sheriff, was also a friend of Dad’s and agreed. Without a mom around, Travis had kind of grown up… well, ‘wild’ was how Lance had once put it.

Talking about feelings? Not really something his dad did, so it wasn’t something Travis did. Cleaning up after yourself? As Lance had just learned, not really a habit that Travis had been taught.

Really, it was a wonder that any of Travis’s brothers had managed to find women willing to put up with them.

He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was about him, the youngest, that had spawned the accompanying feeling of not measuring up. He’d been called ‘runt’ by his brothers, but he knew it was just their own stunted way of trying to give him a fond nickname. It just felt like every time he did something, Dad would tell him how to do it better next time. Like the way he’d handled things hadn’t been good enough the first time around. Travis never saw Dad talking to Rick, David, or Earl the way that he did to him.

It wasn’t like Dad was ever outright mean or anything, and God knew he wasn’t abusive. It was a subtle thing that wormed its way underneath Travis’s skin, but he couldn’t figure out how to get it out or how to talk about it.

Lance gently steered them around the corner, away from his apartment and towards the older end of town, where Travis’s dad lived. Most of the group’s childhood homes were on the same side of town, although both Travis and Lance had taken up residence on the other, newer side of town when they’d moved back after college. Jake, who hadn’t gone to college, was living on the same side as they were, but Luke was in the old side of town since he lived in his parents’ place.

It wasn’t a side of town that Travis went to often. Despite having grown up on these streets, he didn’t often walk them. Poker nights were at his place, movie nights were at Jake and Matthew’s, football was in the park, and other than that, they all just met up at Joe’s. It meant that he’d come to associate going to this neighborhood with seeing Dad.

He didn’t realize he was tensing up until Lance was nudging up against his side. “You’re stiff as a board.” He smiled encouragingly at him. “C’mon, I’ll be there, like a buffer.”

Travis flung his arm around Lance. He remembered that he’d been able to do that in high school as well and had freaked out internally at the thought of Lance growing to the point where Travis could no longer comfortably fit Lance under his arm. He was secretly glad—although Lance wasn’t—when Lance ended up being the shortest of their group.

“You really don’t have to do this. What kind of man is scared to talk to his dad about a house fire where everyone was okay and nobody was hurt? I mean it’s more embarrassing than anything else.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Lance said. “If it had been, say, a gas leak and you’d been in danger, there’d be no reason to worry about his reaction. Your dad loves you and would be concerned about you, and it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault. This is somebody’s fault though, and in a way you probably feel like it’s yours, and it’s a little ridiculous, and so you feel like there’s room for ridicule.”

Travis could feel the odd twinge in his chest that had started up at the café start to fade away. “You’re real good at this, you know that?”

“At what? Telling you what you should already have figured out?” Lance’s tone was, as always, warm and fond, despite the teasing.

This was how it should be, Travis thought. Lance at his side, helping him out with silly emotional things that most people could handle on their own, but that Travis was helpless at. They fit so well together, always had. Who else in this town was going to complement Lance so well?

They turned another corner, and Travis could see his childhood home at the end of the street. Lance poked him in the side. “C’mon. What’s the worst he’s going to do, cry on you?”

“Yes, that would actually be the worst thing,” Travis replied. He hadn’t seen his dad cry in… ever, actually. The idea of having to push through a conversation with his dad crying made Travis want to run for the hills, because he was the worst at giving comfort.

Well, except to Lance, but that was because whenever he said something stupid like, “Hey, forget that jerk, you can play football with us on the weekends again,” he understood that what Travis was trying to say was, “That idiot might not have seen how awesome you are, but we all do, and you’ll always have us.”

It just… came out weird.

“I think it’s time you faced this, that’s all,” Lance said, his voice lower than usual. “I know it’s not my business, in a way, but you’re my best friend and I want you to stop feeling like you have to tiptoe around him.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“I make it sound simple, you mean. Simple doesn’t mean easy.” Lance gave him a small, fond smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll be good for both of you, I think.”

Travis sighed. “You’re annoying as shit, you know that? What with the always being right and all that?”

Lance laughed. “Only because I know you so well.”

Dad was sitting on the front porch, a favorite pastime of his. Lord knew why though, there wasn’t anything to see except the houses across the street. There was the field at the end of the street, the one that had once been farmland and had kind of grown wild. Travis remembered following his brothers as they played in it as kids.

“Travis! Lance!” Dad stood up, still spry despite his years. Rick, the brother closest to Travis in age, was a good five years older. Travis’s father was older than any of his friends’ parents. “About time you stopped by. You know Duchess here was worrying herself sick.”

Duchess was the old basset hound at Dad’s feet. She didn’t move as they ascended the porch, but she looked up and thumped her tail against the floorboards, happy to see them.

“Oh, Duchess was?” Lance replied. How Lance could so easily tease Travis’s dad like that, Travis had no idea. Travis was sure that his dad would bite his head off if he tried something like that, especially if it was something like suggesting that Dad was worried or otherwise feeling some ‘ridiculous emotion.’

Sometimes it felt like feeling anything counted as a ridiculous emotion to Dad.

“Oh yeah, who else would spoil her?” Dad said, as Travis hauled Duchess up so she could lick his face.

“I figured just a text was fine, but Lance insisted I show you in person that I’m hale and hearty,” Travis said, scratching Duchess’s ears as he held her in his arms. “So. Here we are.”

“Here you are. Why don’t you come in and have a drink? It’s a slow Saturday, you ain’t got nowhere to go, right?”

“Unless you count showing up at Joe’s at some point,” Travis said, but he followed his Dad inside. Even his dad was taller and broader than Travis was, age refusing to diminish him.

There was the sound of barking, and then Lance was bowled over—literally knocked off his feet—by two German Shepherds. They licked all over his face, barking happily.

“Growler! Bailey! Get off!” Dad ordered.

The two dogs backed off but still panted happily at Lance, bodies taut as they waited for his next move.

“It’s fine,” Lance said, grinning. “They just need to throw the ball around, don’t you? C’mon.”

He led the two dogs out back, grabbing one of the tennis balls resting on the back porch rail.

“They’re beautiful dogs,” Travis acknowledged.

“I got ‘em from the police station; they failed their police dog exams and needed a new home.”

“I didn’t know you had two other dogs,” Travis admitted.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you don’t stop by often.”

And there it was. Travis tried to keep the grimace off of his face. “Sorry, been busy, you know how it is.”

“Mmmm. So tell me, how did this fire start? It was the oven, or so I heard. You know, if you get a grease fire—”

Travis held in his sigh. “It wasn’t a grease fire. I had a guy over, and he tried to get all… anyway, he turned the oven on and I didn’t know it so it was on all day while I was at work and then at the bar. A dish towel or something fell in and caught fire and the rest is history.”

“Well, at least next time you know to double check if someone’s been in your kitchen.” Dad snorted, as though recalling a memory. “Can’t let people go snooping around, y’know?”

Travis nodded, knowing it would be easier than starting a fight. “Right.”

“What did you have a guy over for anyway?” Dad asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sure, Dad had never been with a woman since Mom died, but he’d never judged his kids for sowing their wild oats. Hell, Earl, Travis’s oldest brother, had broken as many hearts as Luke in high school—although he’d been breaking women’s hearts, not men’s.

“Look out the back window, that’s what I mean,” Dad replied, jutting his chin to indicate Lance, who was running around the backyard with the two dogs.

Travis frowned. “Lance? Dad, not you too. We’re just friends.”

“You sure about that?” Dad said, going to the fridge and grabbing the beers like he’d promised. “He’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had.”

“Dad, come on, please, could we not do this?” Travis asked, the words bursting out of him before he could stop himself.

“Do what?” Dad looked genuinely confused.

Travis shrugged. “This whole… needling me thing. I get I’m not exactly measuring up, but…”

“What do you mean?”

Travis looked out the window at Lance, psychically willing him to know what was happening and to come inside and serve as a shield.

Lance, however, was happily playing tug-of-war with a stick with one of the dogs, and not paying any attention to Travis inside. Actually, Travis realized, that might have been on purpose, to get Travis to talk to his dad alone.

He was definitely going to confront the little shit about this later.

“Travis, seriously.” Dad frowned. “Now, I know you might’ve felt… I don’t know…” He sighed. “I ain’t good at this. This is what your mom was for.”

“I just don’t need you to always remind me of all the things I’m doing wrong, that’s all,” Travis said, taking a long pull of his beer. “I get it, I screw up. I’m the only one who’s not ambitious, I know.” All three of his brothers now lived and worked in the city, and their finances meant that Dad could keep living in his home and retire without worrying about anything.

“I never said that,” Dad said.

“Yeah, you just said that I don’t visit enough, and that I’m stupid to let someone into my kitchen, and that I need to know how to put out a grease fire,” Travis said. “I know you aren’t the lecturing type but man, I get it, okay? I get that I’m not measuring up.”

Dad frowned, looking torn between being upset and genuinely confused. “You’re measuring up just fine. I just… you know…” He shrugged. “Your mom was the one who always was really hands-on. I was better for things like school projects. Homework. I wasn’t so good with the ‘how to live your life’ bit. But since she died when you were so little… I was just trying to fill her shoes.”

“Oh.” Travis’d had no idea. “I didn’t… sorry, then. I was wrong. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. What else was I supposed to do, y’know? I’m your father.” Dad looked out the back window and then said, to Travis’s shock, “Thank God for Lance, eh?”

“What?”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Well, I know I ain’t the best with this whole advice thing. Knew that even before this conversation, but anyway, you always had Lance even when I knew I wasn’t doing the best at being what you needed with the whole…” He waved his hand. “Emotions. Thing.”

“Lance is just my best friend. It’s what he does.”

“You sure about that?” Dad replied. “Because last I checked, he propped you up the same way Delilah props up Rick...and you two sure as hell get along better than David and Martha.”

“I’m not—” Travis paused. He wasn’t…

“I’m not telling you how to live your life,” Dad said, holding up a hand, “despite what you seem to have thought all this time. But I just want you to know, you seem happiest when you’re with him, and it ain’t like you’re bringing any other boys around the house for me to meet.”

“Good talk?” Lance said.

Travis jumped. He hadn’t heard Lance come in. How much had Lance overheard?

“You,” he said, settling for their usual teasing, “left me in here alone deliberately.”

“Guilty as charged,” Lance said. “What, like you two were going to actually do any of the heavy lifting if I was in the room. You’d make me do all of it.”

“We would not,” Travis and Dad protested at the same moment.

Lance just arched an eyebrow. “I’m remembering at least three Thanksgivings where I had to play mediator.”

Three Thanksgivings. It felt like a gut punch. He had, in fact, brought Lance as his plus one to the last, oh, five or so Thanksgiving dinners. Lance’s parents weren’t… well. In high school, Lance had spent most of his nights sleeping over at Travis’s house, and it wasn’t just because he and Travis were good friends. It was partially because he didn’t want to go home.

After Lance had gone to college, he had stopped living with his parents altogether, and as far as Travis knew, Lance hadn’t seen them since high school graduation. Good riddance, anyway. It only made sense to invite Lance over for Thanksgiving. Where else would he go? It’s not like Travis or anyone else wanted Lance to be alone.

When Lance said it like that however, well… and after all that Dad had just said…

Travis downed the rest of his beer. He was not equipped to deal with this. No way, no how.

“I think we’d better get going,” he said. “Nice talk, Dad.”

“Yeah, great.” Dad looked over at Lance. “He’s got the insurance and stuff all handled, right?”

“Don’t worry, it’s taken care of.” Lance grinned, and now Travis was getting that same feeling he’d had back staring at the sign in the café, only it was different—a little more like a whooshing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He decided to ignore it until they were out of the house and he could get Lance home. He needed to be by himself to think through why it felt like his brain was spinning in circles all of a sudden, circling the drain of something.

They said goodbye and walked back through the neighborhood. “It’s still pretty early,” Lance pointed out. “We could have stayed.”

“I needed some fresh air after that talk.”

“Oh? Was sharing emotions that allergic for you?”

“Hey, we managed something without biting each other’s heads off.”

“Y’know, I could see you two through the window. That looked like the most stilted conversation I’ve ever seen.”

“All just a smokescreen; we were pouring our hearts out.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Lance’s smile was bright and fond. It made Travis’s chest go tight.

He didn’t know what was going on, exactly, but he knew that it scared him. Maybe he’d just been spending too much time around Lance—an idea that made him feel awful, because he’d previously been of the opinion that there was no such thing, and besides, he didn’t want to hurt Lance’s feelings.

Maybe he needed to get out. Get on his own for a while, find someone, and get laid. That would help put him in a good mood and take his mind off of things.

“Hey,” he said, careful not to glance over at Lance, so that his face didn’t betray him, “I’m going to head over to Joe’s tonight, play some pool.”

“I was thinking of staying in,” Lance replied. “After that sign in the café, I don’t really want to risk anyone coming up to me.”

“Probably a smart choice. Do you mind if I go out?”

“Nah, you’re good, say hi to the others for me.”

“Sure thing.” He let himself look at Lance, and smiled reassuringly. Lance smiled back, like there was no other option but to match Travis’s contentment with his own. It gave him that same circling-the-drain feeling.

Yeah, a few drinks and an attractive stranger. That’d get his mind off of whatever this was.