#[ * rotshope.

[galaxiasus-a]

❛  the things i’d do to you if we weren’t out in public …  ❜ sweetrav.

CONTINUE > LOAD FILE // screams in suggestive

File Name: @rotshope

There were moments that Travis has chosen to hold himself back. It had grown once he had learned how to control his impulses, to think before he did something that he considered too much, or too risky. It isn't often shown with many things he does, especially to those who barely know him. But it is especially clear when it comes to Sweets.

Often he would dial back. Sheer embarrassment, fear, or whatever excuse he could think of that he believed would justify his stubbornness. Stubbornness however was often not enough. Subtle desperation in the other's touch when he passes by his table in the dining area. Them lingering for far longer than usual, until a voice breaks from their moment to tell Sweets to get off Travis' lap and back to work. It would have usually ended there. It should have. Impulse control would have kicked in and let him go. Stubbornness would have not allowed him to dare do something that could call for Sweets making fun of him for it later. Neither was a factor when Travis immediately grabbed at his arm and prevented him from leaving. Longing for something far more than just his company.

Perhaps it was there where his wall broke down. Or perhaps it was when they both land in the storage area of the cafe, purposely choosing the darkest corner they manage to register before they both lose themselves. Sighs that escape him are quickly muffled when he leans down to meet his lips once more. Sweets' wrists were pinned against the wall, his grip so tight that despite the high he was getting he starts to get concerned. He pulls away, noting the noise of displeasure that came from him. The corners of his lips rise ever so slightly, a move so subtle that only someone as perceptive as Sweets was able to pick up. 

He gives an incredibly gentle kiss on his cheek as he moves closer to his ear. Murmuring, he asks him if he's alright, relaxing only when he was given the reassurance that he was. It gave him a reason to continue his tight hold, he knows if he falters even briefly his hands will lower and mess with the uniform Sweets was wearing. If that were to happen that would be an immediate death sentence for him. 

Instead he continues with the pepper of short kisses, lowering towards his jawline. He felt Sweets' head lift a bit so he could continue on to his neck, taking the invitation as they grew harder in pressure. He felt the other shiver, eliciting a hum from Travis as he shifted to suck on a spot on his skin to leave a mark. In a way he was holding the reins this time. A rarity of its own right, and one he knew would not last long. Sweets had made it clear many times before that he would be the one in control. Not something that Travis himself would ever complain about, if all else it simply made him more attracted to him, but his pride often refused to give in and allow it so easily. Similar to his stubbornness, where he does not where to put a stop to it until something else does. It fought against Sweets' own need, no matter how many times it would lose in the end. 

He caught the other squirming, his leg situated between Travis' own. He attempts to ignore it, not wanting to show Sweets that he was starting to get to him. Though it absolutely did not last long when he felt his knee move dangerously close upward. He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth, a groan releasing from the back of his throat. Agitated. He pauses on the kisses along his neck, the next time his lips part he bites down on his skin. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to leave a noticeable bruise. He realizes then that his body was shaking, anticipation craving for something that they frustratingly can not have. He straightens up so he can rest his forehead against Sweets', breathing heavily against his lips. Hearing the other giggle earned him a glare, mumbling a curse under his breath as he shifts to press a gentle kiss on the other's forehead. He can not fathom the way he was acting right now. Had he fully registered any of it he very well believed he would be hating himself for being weak in the knees over Sweets. Sighing, he focuses on the way the other moves his head, confused at first. Body freezing when he heard the claim whispered in his ear. 

He groans again, though less frustrated and more genuinely annoyed. "God damn it." He curses under his breath, using all his might to not slam Sweets' hands against the wall again because he did not want to risk hurting him. He moves his body closer to his, deepening the harsher kiss. Heavy breaths shared between them that turn to whimpers as heat spreads from his stomach to his chest. Moments where his lips part he can feel Sweets' tongue slip in, a shiver traveling down his spine. It was enough for his hold to start to falter. He can feel Sweets' smirk through the kiss and it is driving him mad. 

"I hate you so damn much." He rasps out once they break away. Not something people would usually say during these moments he realizes, but his partner knows he wasn't serious. Despite his words there was an undeniable softness in his eyes, an expression so loving that it was only ever reserved for when the both of them were alone. The giggle that elicits from him worsens the red blush that was already present in his flushed face. Stubbornness and the like will never be enough to hold back on the fact that he trusts him so deeply to show this side of him. 

Fingers release him one by one, sliding up the palm of his hand to slipping in the spaces inbetween the others'. He's satisfied when he feels Sweets secure the gesture, now actually holding his hands as he keeps him there. Humming to himself, he leans forward. Right before he meets his lips he stops. Risking himself to keep in charge to test how far he can go with it. He keeps eye contact, staring right at him as his voice lowers into a hushed whisper against his lips. "Then go back out there and finish your shift. Or, I'll bet they can handle themselves out there if we leave early. Either way best to not keep waiting." 

[galaxiasus-a]

some ship tags that i finally got around to doing smth

[galaxiasus-a]

"they broke your heart." sweetrav <3

@otomates

"I didn't have one." His answer was curt and fast, the boiling anger and grief in response to the recent hell dreams finally being let out in that single statement. He's gotten better with controlling his temper, moving into a room that they made into some sort of quiet zone whenever he felt his emotions become too much to handle. Its better this way, he thinks to himself, simply distancing himself away from anything that could get in a way of a horrible attack in his moment of desperation. That 'anything' moreso meaning Sweets. Its not just himself he's doing this for, its for his love.

Sweets had to deal with his unanswered spats and hits for years, and didn't need to again for a long while now.

This however, still sent guilt. It always does. It wasn't anything rude, but it felt as if he was yelling at him. He caught it nearly immediately, another practice he's been working on after using this room more frequently. A moment after he said it, he sighs, mumbling a soft "I'm sorry." as his spike starts to settle down.

Travis leans his body back, landing in an uncomfortable position against the wall. Its there he realizes that he's sitting way into the corner of the room. He can't remember how he got here, how long he's been here, what he's been saying.... If he's been speaking at all. Whatever happened, Sweets was here-- which meant an answer to any of those questions was bad. He usually left him alone when he came in here, unless Travis himself cried out for him when everything was too much to handle alone.

He blinks as he watches Sweets scoot closer, one side of his vision pulsing red in defiance, causing the man to flinch. The immediate concern from the other hurt to watch, Travis shaking his head and quickly saying "It's not you." It never has. It never will be. It all came down to everything that's been haunting him.

.....

"......Well. Its true-- in a way." He croaks out after a silent few minutes. His head is starting to be less foggy, now being able to register scattered books and paperwork he keeps in the chamber. He must've thrown everything during his haze.

"I don't think I've ever had a heart. I sure didn't feel it in my earlier years. Until you happened, anyway." He pauses. Perhaps it needed explaining. He could feel Sweets' gaze on it, not in a patronizing way, in the way here he looks like he's attempting to understand so he could sympathize. It was the same look he gave him whenever Travis prayed to a God that he can never cut the cord from.

He wonders if Sweets was able to catch the small movement of the corner of his lips when he tried to smile. He is cute. At the very least, it was nice to know someone was actually listening.

"Having a heart... It meant connecting with people. Loving them, caring about their wishes and dreams. Having your own dreams. Empathy. All that... Stupid sunshine optimism every single person who thought 'Hope that person is having a good day.' carried with them." His eyes were burning. Jesus. Was he crying earlier? Pussy move.

"I didn't.... I didn't have that. I didn't feel any of it. I didn't have a heart for them to break. I was... Nothing." Nothing at all. He could hear his father's voice so clearly his eyes darted across the room for a moment, expecting to see an intruder inside the house already. He gets worried every now and then, that a survivor would come back for him and carry out his father's wishes. Slaughter him in cold blood and fed to the depths of hell. A punishment fit for a traitor.

"I guess that's what they wanted." He murmurs, shifting positions so he could fold his legs and bring them close to his chest. Sweets doesn't know the full story of his time with the cult. It was Travis' fault if any; he didn't want to being up that kind of history and have to accept what happened all over again, and he didn't want to say too much, in fear of having his partner see the type of eigth layer devil he really was. "They broke my head, my mind, every bone and tore every ligament in my body; to shape me into what they wanted. To f i x me." His sharp, harsh tone came back with the specific word. He had issues that could have never been fixed, and he knew that made him hated in the family even more.

Had Sweets told him this a long time ago, he would've been incredibly offended by it, by the mere audacity of him having a symbol of something so weak and useless in the first place. Right now, he was mourning.

He can't remember what triggered it. His body was tense and shaking when he felt trapped in a claustrophobic tunnel again. He felt someone else's warm blood when he slaughted an innocent person in the name of a holy ritual. His eye burned from ghostly remnants of something sharp and toxic. He could still hear the screams of ghosts his father had murdered before him. An awful, ugly, disgusting sin. That's all he could feel.

Right now he wished it would, simply put, go away. The only thing he ever wanted to feel anymore was the warmth and love from the man sitting next to him. That was not something he needed to say out loud; he felt hands protectively latch onto his arm without a second thought, and Sweets' head resting perfectly on his shoulder. He wanted a kiss. He didn't know if Travis was okay enough to get one though.

That thought alone was enough to make Travis shudder from a forced chuckle. He moves his legs forward so his abdomen was exposed and Sweets could right after move to set himself on his lap. He could feel him curl up next to him in every attempt to get closer than he already was, not once him letting go of his arm. It wasn't long until the sweet comfort he always gave him start to take over him. The feeling in his chest untightened, the alarm bells of possible danger nearby start to quiet down.

It hasn't gone away completely, it might never will, but the world seemed more manageable for now. Enough for Travis to get his free hand to hold onto one of Sweets', kissing one of the many rings he had gifted him the past year and then held it up so his partner can cradle his cheek. Finally. Some damn peace.

"Thanks for being here, angel." He murmurs, letting his head rest against the wall so he can make use of the quiet room and try to get those missing senses of clarity back. His usual internal speech of he's safe. He's not alone. He has someone who loves him. He's okay. He's safe. Circles through his head. It will until he thinks he can get up and leave the safety of the closed space, and he knows the beautiful clingy man underneath him will stay with him for as long as it takes.

He'll take care of the books later.