#my cuties ……. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boopiemadz · 1 day ago

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[History project]

No crash AU

Here's the Travis fluff you all were so patiently waiting for! I went with option B :) enjoy!

(sorry for the super un creative title)

---

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Mr. Kennedy paced the front of the classroom with his clipboard, his voice flat as he read off names. “You’ll be partnered up for the Colonial Economy project, presentation and research paper, due next Monday. No exceptions.”

“Martinez and [Y/L/N],” Mr. Kennedy called out.

Your eyes flicked up.

Travis Martinez sat in the third row, lazily spinning a pencil between his fingers. He didn’t react right away, but when he finally looked up, his gaze met yours.

There was something unreadable about him. Not shy, not cold exactly, but like he kept the world at a low volume on purpose. You’d seen him around school, usually lurking by the vending machines or zoning out in the back of class, and of course, you knew his dad: Coach Martinez, who ran your soccer practices like a drill sergeant.

“Hey,” you said once Mr. Kennedy released everyone to start planning. “Guess we’re stuck together.”

“Could be worse,” he replied. You laughed under your breath. “Could it?”

“Are you free after school?” he asked.

You hesitated. “I’ve got practice. Your dad runs us pretty hard.”

Something flickered in his expression, annoyance, maybe, but not at you. “Right. Forgot you’re one of his.” You smirked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said, “We’ll figure something out.” Mr. Kennedy clapped his hands and dismissed the class. You gathered your stuff slowly, watching Travis disappear into the hallway without looking back.

---

Practice had been brutal, you pulled your shin guards off with a groan and chucked them into your duffel bag. The sun was dipping low behind the trees, casting everything in that golden, eerie light that always came before a storm.

Most of the girls were already heading out, half-limping, still laughing about something dumb from drills. You spotted Travis by the fence near the parking lot, arms crossed. He looked like he’d been standing there forever, headphones around his neck, eyes somewhere a million miles off.

You grabbed your water bottle and headed over, giving him a small nod.

Before you could say anything, his dad’s voice barked across the field:“Travis! C’mon, don’t stand around like a zombie, grab cones.”

“I’m talking to someone.” Travis contested with a snarky tone.

Coach Martinez came striding over, looking mildly surprised to see you standing next to his son. “[Y/N]” he said, nodding at you. “You’ve got a solid right foot. That pass to Lottie today? Beautiful. Keep working on that.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Thanks, Coach.” He looked between you and Travis. “Didn’t know you two were… friends.”

Travis groaned. “We’re not.”

“We have a project together,” you added quickly, shifting your weight. “A project, huh?”

“Yeah,” Travis said, a bit too fast. “History. School. That’s it.”

Coach smiled like he wasn’t buying it. “Well, why don’t you just come back to the house, then? You can work on it there. It’s gonna storm anyway. We're having frozen pizza.”

Travis looked like he might spontaneously combust. “No,”he said quickly. “We’re good. We’ll figure it out later.”

“I’ll stay out of your way.” Said coach, “I said we’re good,” Travis muttered, eyes narrowed. You could feel the secondhand embarrassment radiating off him.

You coughed, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind, if it makes it easier.”

Coach gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder like this was all going so well. “Smart and athletic. You’re a good influence on him.”

“Dad,” Travis hissed.

As you followed them toward the car, the wind picked up, leaves dancing across the pavement. The sky above looked heavy, like it was about to break open.

You wondered what the hell you'd just walked into, but for some reason, a part of you was curious to see what Travis Martinez was like when he wasn’t just a shadow at the edge of your life.

---

The drive to Travis’s house was mostly silent, except for the sound of the blinker clicking too long at a turn and the low murmur of Micheal Jackson on the radio. You sat in the backseat, still damp from practice, your bag shoved between your feet. When Coach finally pulled into the driveway, he cut the engine and glanced at you in the rearview mirror. “Didn’t realize you two were history buddies,” he said flatly.

“We got assigned the project,” Travis muttered. Coach Martinez let out a humorless snort. “Lucky you,” he said dryly. “She’s one of the few on varsity who actually listens.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the compliment, but also by how his tone shifted, just sharp enough to cut, and it was aimed at Travis, not you. Travis didn’t respond. Just climbed out of the car and slammed the door a little too hard.

Inside, the house smelled faintly like oregano and laundry. Travis kicked off his shoes at the door and disappeared down the hall without a word. You hesitated. Coach turned to you as he took off his jacket. “You’re early to every practice, run like hell, and don’t whine when I push you,” he said. “If he had half your drive, I’d…” He shook his head. “Anyway. Go on.”

You gave a half-smile, awkward and unsure, then made your way in.“Travis?” a woman’s voice called from the kitchen.

His mom stepped out a second later. She had warm eyes, and dark clipped-back hair. She gave you a polite smile, then blinked at you like she was trying to place you.

“Hi,” she said. “I don’t think we’ve met?” Before you could answer, Travis trudged back into view and mumbled, "Mãe, ela joga no time. O pai é o técnico dela."

His mom raised an eyebrow. Then, in Portuguese: "Ah, entendi. Ela é bonita. Ela é sua namorada?" Travis groaned. "Mãe, não. A gente só está fazendo um projeto de História." She smiled softly, clearly amused at her son 's suffering. “Okay, okay.”

“Sorry dinner’s not real dinner,” she added to you in English. “Just frozen pizza. Nothing fancy.”

“That’s totally fine,” you said quickly. From the hallway, another voice perked up: “[Y/N]?” You turned and smiled. “Javi!”

He looked taller, older, but still had the same grin. “I haven't seen you since the summer!”

You gave him a hug, you had volunteered at a summer camp last summer, Javi was one of the kids you led at the soccer camp, he was always your favorite.

Their mom chuckled and disappeared back into the kitchen, calling out one last time, “Door stays open!” Travis groaned and motioned you toward the hall. “Come on.” You followed him, but before you reached his room, his dad called after you: “[Y/N] Don’t let him slack off. Make him do his share.”

You turned to respond, but Travis was already pulling his door open, muttering, “Yeah, thanks, Dad.”

---

Inside, the room smelled faintly of old cologne and pencil shavings. Posters half-tacked to the wall, unmade bed, a couple of books on the floor. Travis flopped down in the chair by the desk and ran a hand through his hair.

You dropped your bag near his bed and raised an eyebrow. “So… this is your natural habitat?”

You and Travis were quietly working on the project, the occasional rustle of papers and soft hum of the room filling the silence. Travis was still distracted, his eyes drifting outside, but you were trying to keep focused.

“I think if we add more dates to the timeline, we can make it flow better,” you said, breaking the silence. “Like, more context for each event?”

Travis barely nodded in acknowledgment, still staring out the window, the flickering lights casting shadows across the room. “Yeah, sure,” he replied in a low voice, his tone almost absent.

You tried to push through the awkwardness, hoping that maybe the project would lead to more conversation, but it felt like pulling teeth. You took a deep breath, thinking maybe you’d just power through it and get it done.

Eventually, you decided to call your mom to figure out when she planned on picking you up. You stood up and walked over to the kitchen where the landline sat on the counter. Picking it up, you dialed her number, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for it to ring. The line crackled for a moment, but you finally heard her voice.

“Hey, Mom, it’s me,” you said. “The storm’s getting pretty bad, when do you think you're going to come pick me up?”

Before you could finish, Mrs. Martinez came into the room, glancing at you with a concerned look. She could hear the storm beginning to pick up outside, the wind howling, the rain hammering at the windows.

“Oh, it’s getting pretty rough out there,” she said with a frown. “Maybe it’s best if you stay here for the night.” You gave her a slightly surprised look. “I don’t know, I don’t want to trouble anyone. I’ll just wait for it to pass, and wait for Mom to come get me...”

As if on cue, your mom’s voice came through the phone, crackling slightly with the storm interference. “It’s too dangerous to drive in this weather hun, I'm afraid Mrs. Martinez is right. Stay there for the night. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

You hesitated, glancing between Mrs. Martinez and the phone. “Are you sure, Mom? I can just…”

“No, no. Stay there,” your mom insisted, the line cutting in and out a little as the storm worsened outside. “It’s better to be safe. Don’t worry about coming home tonight.” You nodded slowly, feeling a bit awkward but grateful for the reassurance. “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

You hung up, turning to face Mrs. Martinez, who was watching you with a friendly, almost maternal smile. “Well, looks like you’re staying the night then,” she said warmly, as if it was no big deal. “We’ll set you up on the couch, and you can relax while the storm blows over.”

The atmosphere inside the house was charged, a heavy silence hanging between you and Travis after his mom suggested you stay the night. After a while Mrs. Martinez pulled Travis aside to talk to him outside in the hallway. You could overhear their conversation but couldn't understand exactly what had been said as they were arguing in Portuguese.

Mrs. Martinez looked at her son, her voice steady but firm. "Travis, ela vai ficar aqui. Não podemos deixá-la sair nesta tempestade. Você sabe disso."

Travis crossed his arms, frustration evident on his face as he shifted in his seat. “Mãe, isso não faz sentido. Ela pode ir embora quando a tempestade passar. Não é como se fosse tão ruim assim.”

Mrs. Martinez didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing slightly as she stood up, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Você não está entendendo. Está muito perigoso lá fora. Não vou deixar ela sair. Ela vai ficar aqui.”

Travis looked away, rubbing his hand through his hair, clearly agitated."Mãe. A gente mal se conhece e você quer que ela passe a noite aqui..."

Travis 's voice, though soft, carried frustration. “Você não entende. Isso é estranho, mãe.”

Mrs. Martinez 's response was firm and unyielding. "Eu sei o que é melhor, Travis. Não se trata de você. Trata-se de ela ser uma pessoa segura, e não dos seus sentimentos."

You could hear Travis 's feet shuffle as he paced, his voice growing louder with annoyance. "Eu só... eu não sei. Não quero que ela fique aqui, mãe. É desconfortável."

Mrs. Martinez sighed, her tone shifting to something softer, though still firm. “Você precisa parar de ser tão teimoso. Você não pode sempre afastar as pessoas, Travis. Isso não é sobre você, é sobre fazer o que é certo. Ela vai ficar aqui porque é o que precisamos fazer.”

Travis was silent for a moment, likely processing, before he muttered something under his breath. “Está bem... Você venceu.”

The door to the room opened, and then he came back into the bedroom. Travis’s posture was still tense, but there was no more protest. Mrs. Martinez, on the other hand, smiled warmly at you.

---

The rain outside hadn’t let up, and the power had since gone out. Travis's room felt extra quiet, just the dull drumming of water on the windows, and the warm flicker of the candle his mom had set on his desk. You were both crouched on the floor, backs against the bed, working mostly by flashlight.

The project was almost done, you glanced sideways at Travis. His face was lit by the candlelight, serious, focused, his lashes casting shadows under his eyes.

“You’re not as mean as you look,” you said suddenly. He looked over at you, brow raised. “Thanks… I think?” You shrugged, smirking. “You’re quiet. People always assume quiet means rude.”

“I’m not quiet,” he said. “I’m just not loud.”

“Oh wow,” you deadpanned. “That’s so profound.” You nudged his knee lightly with yours. “So, is this the part where we pretend we’re friends now?”

“I mean…” He glanced over at you. “You’re staying over. Might as well.” You blinked, caught off guard by how casual that sounded. The mood had shifted, just a little. He wasn’t as closed-off anymore, not all grunts and shrugs. His voice had softened, and so had his posture. You could tell the guard was coming down.

“I like this version of you,” you teased. “The non-grumpy one.”

“I wasn’t grumpy.”

“You literally argued with your mom in Portuguese so I wouldn’t sleep on your couch.”

Travis laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t about you.”

“Oh no?”

“No. It was about me being stuck in awkward situations I didn’t ask for.” You tilted your head. “So… am I in an awkward situation?” He looked at you then, really looked. “Nah. Not anymore.” Something warm settled between you.

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting the silence stretch. Not the bad kind. The kind that made it feel like maybe something small had shifted. You leaned your head back against the bed frame. “You know what would make this night less cursed?”

He gave you a look. “If the power came back on?”

“Okay, yeah. But also, if we made a blanket fort.”

He snorted. “A fort.”

“Yup. Couch cushions, old quilts, the whole deal. Make it an adventure.”

“You realize we’re not six.”

“Exactly. Which means we can make it better than a six-year-old would.” He hesitated, then smirked. “You’re seriously gonna make me do this?”

“I’m seriously already planning it in my head.” Travis sighed, but he was still smiling. “Alright. Let’s build a dumb fort.” You grinned, hopping to your feet. “It’s not dumb. It’s cozy. And you’ll thank me later.” As you padded out into the dark hallway toward the living room, you heard him mutter behind you, “This is so dumb.”

But he followed you anyway.

---

The living room was dark, except for the occasional flash of lightning through the windows and the flickering candlelight. Travis stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, arms crossed, while you got to work like it was a mission.

“Okay,” you said, hands on your hips. “Couch cushions, quilts, chairs. We need at least one flashlight and maybe a lantern if your mom’s got one.”

“You act like this is a military operation.”

“Travis,” you said seriously, “blanket forts are an art form.” He stared at you, deadpan, but you saw the edge of a smile tug at his mouth again. “Alright, general.”

Between the two of you, you managed to drag in a few pillows from the storage closet, stack some chairs on either end of the couch, and drape thick quilts overhead. Travis helped, mostly by handing things to you while pretending not to care, though you caught him adjusting the corners and securing a wobbly chair when he thought you weren’t looking.

By the time you crawled inside, it was warm and dark and way more impressive than you expected. “This is actually kinda sick,” Travis admitted, ducking inside with the slightly cold frozen pizza his mom had luckily starters to make before the power went out.

You gasped. “You admitted you liked it.”

“I said kinda. That’s not the same.” You grinned and grabbed a slice of the half-warmed-up frozen pizza. Javi peeked in from the hallway, grinning like this was the coolest thing ever. “This is so cool. Can I…?”

“No,” Travis cut in. “Go back to your room.”

You both sat back against the couch cushions, legs stretched out. The storm was still roaring outside, but the fort made it feel far away, like the two of you were kids again, hiding from the world. After a while, you finished eating, and Travis reached over to grab something from under the coffee table, a small stack of old board games.

“You serious?” you said, eyeing Sorry! and Uno like they were ancient relics. “My mom hoards these,” he shrugged. “It’s this or actual conversation.” You grabbed Uno. “I’ll kick your ass.”

“You wish.”

A few rounds in, the teasing got louder, the laughs less guarded. Travis started doing ridiculous voices. You accused him of cheating. He denied it but was definitely cheating. Every time he slapped down a Draw Four, you groaned dramatically and hit him with a pillow.

By the end of the third game, you were both lying down, heads side by side, feet tangled up in the mess of blankets. “I didn’t think you were funny,” you said, stretching your arms above your head.

Travis turned his head. “I didn’t think you were this weird.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment.”

---

The fort had quickly turned into the most comfortable space in the house. Travis had settled near the back of the fort, flipping through a magazine. You were lounging on your side, looking for something to tease him with.

You spotted it, the CD case on the floor. He'd left it just out of sight, but the shiny surface of the Green Day album caught your eye. A small, innocent thing, but you didn’t care. You picked it up, holding it in your hands.

He groaned, shifting toward you. “Come on, give it back.” You slid back, holding it just far enough out of his reach. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it for a little while longer.”

Travis grinned, clearly not going to let this slide. “Alright, if that’s how it’s gonna be...”

Without warning, he lunged forward, his hand grabbing at the CD case. You yanked it away, but in the process, you lost your balance. He was already too close, his body tumbling into yours as he overextended his reach. In a moment of clumsy desperation, he landed on top of you, his chest pressing against yours with a soft grunt.

For a brief, breathless second, neither of you moved. Travis was frozen, his arms braced on either side of you, his face inches from yours. His hair, normally messy, was slightly more wild, a few strands falling into his eyes. And it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that you could feel everything now. The heat between you, the way your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze... and you noticed something else, too.

Travis had a... well, an undeniable reaction. You were both so close that you could feel it growing against your leg, and your stomach flipped with sudden nervous energy.

He hesitated, his expression flickering with uncertainty, before he finally pushed himself up and sat back. His hand brushed against your side as he moved, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles tensed, his body still so close to you.

You took a moment to collect yourself, trying not to acknowledge the way he had fallen on top of you, how his weight felt against your chest, how his body was so warm.

“Uh, sorry,” Travis muttered, his voice low, a little too soft. He was trying to act like it was no big deal, but you could see the flush creeping up on his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine,” you quickly cut him off, though your own heart was racing. You sat up, trying to brush it off, but it wasn’t as easy as you hoped.

Then, Travis cleared his throat, leaning back against the pillows. “So, uh, are we just gonna sit here in silence, or...?”

But even as you moved on, you couldn’t help but notice how he was sitting, the way his shoulders were broad and the way his t-shirt clung to his chest. He was leaning back against the blankets. And then it hit you.

Travis Martinez was actually... hot. You didn’t mean to think it, but the way the light hit his face and the way his muscles were just subtle enough to make you notice, you couldn’t pretend you hadn’t noticed it anymore.

��Hey, uh, you good?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you with a raised eyebrow, as if he knew something was off. “Yeah,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “Fine.”

Travis just stared at you, not pressing the issue, but still seeming like he was waiting for something. He smirked lightly. “You sure?” You shook your head, trying to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. “Yeah. Let’s just... let’s finish the project.”

The air between you two had shifted again, but this time, you didn’t really know how to deal with it. So, you both just fell back into the rhythm of the project, quiet, easy banter, a few laughs, and still the occasional look that made your heart race.

---

The night had grown quieter, luckily the power had come back on after the whole CD fiasco. The fort had become the perfect retreat, a cozy little corner of the world away from everything else. You and Travis were sitting cross-legged, taking the opportunity to kick back and relax. The movie, a cheesy '90s romance, was playing in the background, but you were too distracted to really focus on it. You had been wearing your soccer gear all evening, but when his mom offered you some of her clothes to change into, you reluctantly agreed. After all, you didn’t want to be stuck in your sweaty uniform the entire time.

The bathroom was just down the hall, and you slipped in to change into the oversized pair of pajamas that Mrs. Martinez had given you. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed the shirt that was baggy fell way too low, so you used a hair tie to tie it up in order to make it look like less of a dress, and the bottoms were loose but hung low on your hips, the waistband just barely staying up. The fabric was soft, the shirt with a slight V-neck, and it fit just right, comfortable, yet undeniably more... flattering than you anticipated.

You didn’t think too much of it, just needed something comfortable, but when you emerged from the bathroom and walked back toward the fort, something felt different.

Travis was sitting in front of the TV, but when he saw you, his expression froze for a second. His eyes widened slightly, as if he’d just noticed something he hadn’t before. You tried to ignore the sudden flutter in your chest as you walked past him, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling on your lips. “What? You’re not used to seeing me not in soccer clothes?” He snapped out of his daze, quickly looking away and clearing his throat. “Uh, no, I just, uh, I didn’t expect you to... I mean, you look…" He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. "You look... good.”

You couldn’t help but grin, the way he stumbled over his words making it all the more amusing. “Thanks” Travis just nodded, his face still a little flushed. He didn’t say anything more, and you didn’t push it. Instead, you sat back down on your side of the fort, curling up with a pillow in your lap, trying to ignore the little twinge of nerves in your stomach. It was just Travis.

The movie played on, the soundtrack of cheesy romantic scenes drifting in the background. Travis stretched out on his side, getting comfortable in his own pajamas, loose blue plaid pants and a fitted, faded T-shirt. He looked relaxed, but there was something about him tonight that made you notice the way his chest looked in the shirt, how his muscles flexed as he shifted. You found yourself glancing at him more often than usual, your heart racing a little more than it should.

At some point, the movie’s predictable plot started getting to you. You rolled your eyes and stretched out, still trying to ignore the tension building between you two. Travis seemed to sense it too, though, his eyes flicking over to you as he adjusted on the floor.

He gave you a sideways grin. “You don’t look too convinced by the movie.” You shrugged, trying to keep it light. “It’s just... it’s so cheesy. Like, who falls in love in a rainstorm like this? It’s a total cliché.”

Travis’s hand brushed yours as he moved slightly, and both of you paused for a moment, the electric spark of touch hanging in the air. His fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary, but neither of you said anything.

You shifted, trying to play it cool, but when you moved your hand closer to his, accidentally, maybe, you could see the hesitation in his eyes. And then, without a word, he slowly, subtly reached for your hand.

You didn’t pull away. You let him.

He laced his fingers with yours, and you could feel the heat of his hand against yours. Your breath hitched, a flutter going through your chest as you tried to ignore the surge of excitement in your stomach.

Neither of you said anything. The cheesy romance movie continued, but it felt like the entire world was silent now, save for the sound of the rain and the occasional rustle of the blanket. His hand was warm in yours, and for once, neither of you seemed awkward about it.

---

The movie played on in the background, but neither of you were paying much attention anymore. Your hand was still intertwined with Travis’s, but you could feel the tension slowly shifting between you both. You shifted closer, leaning against him a little, testing the waters. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his arm moved, subtly at first, and then he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. The warmth of his body felt natural against yours, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

You let yourself sink into the moment, your head resting on his shoulder, the quiet beats of his breathing syncing with your own. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his fingers gently trace patterns on your arm, as if he wasn’t sure how to act but wanted to be close, too. And you liked it. You liked how natural it felt, how easy it was to just be with him like this.

Neither of you said anything for a while, just watching the movie as the rain continued to tap against the windows, the occasional rumble of thunder making the air feel even more cozy. Every so often, you’d glance up at him, your eyes meeting him for a split second, only to look away again, heart fluttering in your chest.

When the movie finally ended, the soft glow of the TV light was the only thing illuminating the fort. You realized, almost too late, that you had fallen asleep. Your head was still resting against Travis’s shoulder, and you hadn’t even realized how tired you were until you felt the gentle pressure of his hand on your shoulder, waking you.

“Hey,” Travis whispered softly, his voice barely audible, “you fell asleep.”

You blinked, groggy for a second, and then straightened up, surprised to realize how long you’d been out. “Oh, I didn’t mean to, sorry. I guess I was really tired.”

“No problem,” he said with a soft chuckle. His voice sounded a little different now, lighter, more relaxed, like the air between you two had shifted in the last few hours. “You were really cozy, though. Must’ve been the rain.”

You smiled at that, shifting to sit up a little straighter, but then he shifted, too. His eyes locked with yours, and there was something in the way he looked at you now, something different than before. The teasing, joking tension from earlier was gone, replaced by something a little deeper.

“Travis?” you asked softly, unsure if it was the right time, but the moment felt like it was pulling you in.

He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he moved closer, just slightly, and your breath caught in your throat. The space between you two was small now, and his hand gently cupped your chin, tilting your face up toward his. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, and for a heartbeat, you both just stared at each other, heartbeats racing.

Before you could even fully process what was happening, he leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against yours with a soft, gentle pressure. It wasn’t urgent. It was a question, and you both lingered there, testing the waters. And when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again, this time, deeper, with more certainty.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like everything you’d both been holding back, the awkwardness, the hesitations, the quiet moments faded away. Now, there was no more space between you. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you didn’t pull away. You leaned into him, letting yourself feel every touch, every shift in the way his body moved against yours. It felt natural, like you should have been doing this all along.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your faces were inches apart, and neither of you knew what to say at first. Travis ran a hand through his hair, his gaze slightly unfocused. “I… I didn’t think that would happen tonight,” he muttered with a nervous laugh.

You smiled, your heart still racing. “Neither did I. But I’m glad it did.”

Travis grinned at that, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand where it still rested in his. He took a breath, a more serious look in his eyes now. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. But I didn’t know if…”

“If I felt the same?” you finished for him, raising an eyebrow. “Well, now you know.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, now I know.”

There was a brief pause before you both spoke at the same time.

“I…” Travis started.

“You..” you started.

And then, as if nothing else mattered anymore, he kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate. You both lost yourselves in the kiss, the world outside the fort disappearing as everything else faded into the background. It was just you and him now.

The funny thing is, the two of you got so carried away you never finished the project.

Mr. Kennedy gave you a C-, but for some reason it didn't matter, because you had gotten something much more important than an A, you got him.