Chapter 4: (The Wes Mix) The Anal Chef part1 (The Wes Mix)

Wes mentally pats himself on the back when Travis replied to his earlier question with, "What do you have in mind of doing cowgirl?"

Again with the dumb nickname. But who cares. This was Wes' chance now. He can't blow it. Even though he had trouble keeping eye contact with the enigmatic blues that were focusing all over him.

He had to come up with something on the spot. Something that Travis would definitely love doing and wouldn't find strange of Wes suggesting.

Got it.

"I dunno, beer and a movie?"

To Wes' shock, Travis sucked his teeth. "I had beer and a movie this morning man. What else you got?" And the guy had the nerve to wave Wes away.

Wes feels his face scrunch into a scowl at the confession. He felt a much needed lecture spilling from the tip of his tongue. "Travis that is horrible. Beer for breakfast? I can't imagine what you think-"

His poor intestines. His liver. His stomach. What the hell Travis?! They already a talk about this unhealthy streak. What happened to a simple whole wheat bagel and a small dollop of cream cheese for breakfast? Wes was in a similar situation before, but his eating habits have gotten better. Hopefully, the closer he gets to Travis, the more the two on work on that together.

"Yeah, yeah. I have a date with my bed tonight anyway." Wes felt his face cloud over. No, he's slipping through his fingers again. He misses the dumbfounded look on Travis' face, when he turned to face him again, as a sudden great idea pops up in his head.

He has to get him where he's more likely to hang around again. It's a low blow, especially to try it again, but Wes couldn't deny the idea wasn't full-proof.

Wes starts to pick up his belongings from the bench nearby. He still avoided Travis' curious gaze while he laid the second snare. "Shame really. Tonight was Chicken Parm night." The trap was laid. Now to—

Wes could have sworn he heard Travis bite back a squeak…or was it a whimper? Anyway, Wes was sure he had Travis now. The last time he made Chicken Parmesan for Travis, he confessed his enjoyment of it. Also, the fact that Travis was biting back a fist, whimpering yet again.

"Damn you Wes," Travis cursed. Wes had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling in triumph. So he turned around, giving Travis his best look of pity he could muster.

"Have a nice time with your bed. Be safe-"

Travis grins and starts patting him on the back. The gesture gives Wes instant goose-bumps.

"Oh no no no Liz. I can't let you have all that to yourself now can I? You cook it better than my favorite place anyway." Wes starts laughing uncontrollably in the most unmanly way possible. Which, combined with the sudden onset of a dreamy look on his face, caused a confused expression to spread on Travis' face.

Once Wes noticed this, he immediately fixed his face into a neutral expression. He also makes sure to shrug off Travis' arm. When heads off to the exit, he feels himself floating on clouds somehow. He hears Travis trailing close at his side as soon as they neared the parking lot's entrance.

"You're welcome," Travis said suddenly. Wes whips around, his face full of questions.

"For what?" Wes asks.

"You're lucky to have me over tonight for dinner, on vacation," Travis replied. Wes almost forgot about their vacation. They haven't had one in a long time. Also, what the heck at Travis' choice of words. Wes did feel lucky to have him. Thinking about made him feel self-conscious and nervous again.

("Aww Wes, man!" Travis squishes his arms around Wes, holding him close. Wes smiles but struggles against the hold slightly.

"Okay, Trav—May I finish?"

"Mhm." )

"You're damn right Wesley," Travis scoffed. "I usually charge for dinner appearances. You should feel honored."

Somehow the two ended up chasing each other around Wes' car. But before that Wes made sure Travis was traveling to his place in his car, leaving behind his bike thankfully.

Something about Travis thinking that Wes' twitchy, nervous behavior meant that he was trying to kill him. Wes fell for the bait, joining in on his partner's madness.

Out of nowhere Travis offers him a hand to help him up from his crouched position on the concrete. Wes is out of breath, taking in the offered hand as well as Travis' smiling face. Travis' smile was so magnetic to Wes.

"You good man?" Travis asked, placing a hand on Wes' shoulder again. "I wouldn't want your Chicken Parmesan making hand to get tired."

As Wes was being helped up, another brilliant idea sprung into his head.

He let an easy, almost mischievous smile cross his face as he uttered, "Ah aha. I'm not making it. You are." He heartily relishes in the look of dramatic terror on Travis' face.