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“Maison-”
“We found Mica. Ace was able to track him when he opened the encrypted message Ace sent back as his check-in response. He seems to have bought it and isn’t suspicious. He’s not on the move and he’s complaining about needing a shipment of more toilet paper.”
“Fuck, that was… fast. Shit. Good. Okay.” Travis rubs at his eyes, still working on waking up. “I’ll head out then. Just let me say goodbye.”
“I’ll tell him tomorrow.”
“But-”
“Don’t go back in there, Travis. Seriously. Go get dressed and leave.”
Travis releases a sharp, angry laugh. “Wow. Did my little rant at the dinner table not get through to you at all? You don’t get a say in what I do anymore. You can fuck right the fuck off, alright?”
“You know what?” Maison growls. “This is such bullshit. What - he can’t even look at me, let alone forgive me, but he can forgive you? He can fuck you? Seriously?”
“He hasn’t forgiven me, Maison.”
“You know the best conversation I’ve had with him since the day we told him the truth? It was the morning I told him you were gone to chase Mica. He actually spoke in complete sentences. He asked me questions. He fucking engaged.” Maison shakes his head, hands curled into fists. “All because he wanted to know about you. Why is that, huh? Why do you get my brother and I don’t? Why is it you he cares about?”
“I don’t know,” Travis answers honestly. “But whatever he wants, he gets. He’s fucking earned that. So, yeah, I slept with him. And I’ll do it again if he wants me to, no matter how much it hurts me to do it.”
"And what about the damage you're doing to him? Maybe this is what he wants, but it's not what he needs, Travis. We both know that."
"It's not up to us to decide what-"
“Hey-” a voice says to their left. They turn in unison to find themselves staring at a sleep-rumpled Jake standing in the doorway of Casey’s room, frowning deeply at both of them. “Hi. Hello. Message from the sleeping world - shut the fuck up."
"Sorry," Maison and Travis whisper together.
Jake rubs his eyes and sighs. "What's the issue?"
"Nothing," Maison says. "Travis was just about to leave, weren't you, Travis? He has a lead on Mica."
It's a challenge - Maison is telling him to leave, even though they both know Travis wants to say goodbye to Carter first.
And what about the damage you're doing to him? The words echo in his mind, slicing their way to his heart.
"Yeah," Travis decides, taking a step away from Carter's door. "I'm leaving."
Chapter Two
Carter wakes up alone, his hole sore and tacky with dried cum, Travis’s side of the bed cold to the touch. It hurts in a way it shouldn’t. They didn’t agree to anything together last night. If anything, Carter made it pretty damn clear what they did meant nothing.
Maybe he should have voiced his thoughts about not wanting it to be the last time?
Trying to wash away the evidence of their night together - as well as the shame and the hurt - he spends an extra-long time in the shower. Then he picks out his best outfit from the clothes he was allowed to pick out online - his dark jeans that hug his ass perfectly and the ridiculously soft light blue sweater that falls off his shoulder just enough to be a bit of a tease. He wants to make Travis regret leaving him in bed this morning, even if it was probably for the best.
Mustering all of his confidence, Carter leaves his room and goes to search for the man without making it look like he’s searching for him. He stops in the kitchen first, figuring it’d look better if he paused for food and coffee. Plus, there’s a good chance Travis will appear at some point. The kitchen is placed in the perfect spot to see most of the action of the house since everyone has to walk past it to get to the staircases, living room, dining room, and basement. It’s a relatively open floor plan too, so it provides even better access.
Carter makes himself toast, pours some coffee from the half-full pot, and sits at the breakfast island so he can watch.
The first person to appear is the last person he wanted to see - Maison.
His brother sighs heavily when he sees him. Carter’s stomach plummets. “What?”
“Travis. He…”
Carter doesn’t have to ask him to finish. “He fucking left, didn’t he? Without telling me. Again.”
