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Title: Slow Down the Song Chapter 2: Too Much in Love to Care
Pairing: Travis Marks/Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG for now, M by the end.
Word Count: 3,618
Warnings: None for the moment. 
Short Summary: Wes is harboring a secret crush. When he lets something slip during a drunken conversation, Travis becomes determined to find out just who the crush is.  Spawned from my March Bingo Card here

Author’s Notes: I love, love, love a drunken Wes.  I need to write him this way more often.  And thus, you get a touch more in this chapter.  Enjoy.  But bring him back in one piece, eh? 

If you were smart, you would keep on walking
Out of my life as fast as you can
I'm not the one you should pin your hopes on
You're falling for the wrong kind of man

(Too Much in Love to Care  - Sarah Brightman)

“You look much better today,” Travis said when Wes appeared at his desk two days after the incident.  “Not so pale any longer.”

“Longest fucking hangover of my life,” Wes muttered.  “But thanks.  I am feeling better finally.” 

“Good.  So, what’s first on the agenda this morning?  Interviewing that witness, maybe?”  Travis watched Wes as his eyes landed on everything around him but his face.

“No, we need to go down and see Jonelle, she sent me a text as I got here.  I think she’s got something for us.”

Nodding, Travis stood.  “Sounds good to me, let’s go.”


Jonelle indeed had something for them, an item that changed the course of their investigation and cracked the case wide open.  Travis, in his exuberance, threatened to kiss her and if she hadn’t held up the nearest scalpel, he might have done so.   Armed with this new bit of information, the two detectives set out to make their collar.  Three hours later, after fulfilling his threat and having kissed Jonelle (and getting clobbered for his effort), Travis stood with his partner in front of the precinct, thinking of parting ways for the night. 

“You going home, Wes?”  Travis asked.

Wes shrugged, looking out across the lot, trying to remember where he’d put his car when they’d returned to the station.  “Yeah, nowhere else for me to go, is there?”  Wincing at how that sounded, he started to apologize but was stopped before he could start.

“You can come have a drink with me,” Travis suggested.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he said, making a face.  “You remember what happened last time.”

“Yeah, but last time you didn’t have me along to keep you sober, either.”  Travis graced him with a brilliant grin.  “Besides, I’ll limit you to beer only, no fancy Scotch tonight.”

He made another face. “I can’t stand beer, but hanging out for a bit sounds better than going home alone.”

“It always does,” Travis agreed.  “Meet you at the usual spot in twenty, will that work?”

He quickly calculated how long it would take him to get back to the hotel, change, and return to the bar.  “Make it thirty and you’re on.”

“Deal.  See you in thirty, Mitchell, and don’t you dare be late.  I don’t like being stood up on my dates.”  Travis waved and headed for where he’d left his motorcycle. 

Wes groaned inwardly.  The thought of Travis actually asking him on a date – and taking it seriously – was more than he could handle.  Just the thought of his teasing had his imagination running away from him and his cock hardening in his pants.  “Just what I don’t need,” he grumbled, adjusting himself to ease the pressure a bit, “is a drink with Marks and the hard on from hell to top it off.”


“Got to admit, Marks, I’m shocked you didn’t already have plans for tonight,” Wes said, almost fearing Travis’ answer. 

Travis shrugged, trying for casual and failing.  “All my honeys were busy tonight.”

Wes grinned, glass of Scotch halfway to his mouth.  “You got cancelled on, didn’t you?”

With a glare, Travis said, “Maybe… maybe not.  And I let you have your damn Scotch so you’d better be nice to me.”

“Okay, okay, you made your point.  I won’t tease, I swear.”

“Better not,” he joked, tipping his bottle back and emptying it down his throat.  “I could use another, what about you?”

He hesitated.  Getting drunk hadn’t ever been his thing but lately it’d become more appealing.  The more time he spent around Travis, listening to stories of his sexual escapades, and the more he came to understand he’d never be part of one of those stories, the more alluring the sirens call of the bar had become. 

Travis misread his silence.  “Ah, I bet you’re still stuck on the other night, aren’t you?”  He leaned in closer and whispered near Wes’ ear, “I won’t let you get wasted, I promise.” 


Travis lied about keeping him sober.  He hadn’t intended on letting things get this far out of hand either – they both had to work the next day, after all.  But once Wes started feeling his Scotch, he began to open up and Travis would be damned if he let the boy go before he learned a little more about the conservative Wesley Mitchell.

“So, you said you were stood up earlier,” Wes ventured.

Travis nodded, “Pretty much.  Said she had to wash her hair or some shit.  Classic blow-off.”  He took a hit off his beer and grimaced.  “Women are the worst.  They think men lie, but I’m telling you, they’ll tell you whatever they think you want to hear just to get what they want.  Not all of them, of course,” he clarified, “but too many of them.”

“Sounds like you pick the good ones,” he joked, sarcasm evident in his words.

Travis snorted.  “Something like that.  What about you?  Having any luck these days?  I know moving on after Alex has been rough for you.”

Shrugging, Wes looked out across the bar before turning his attention back to Travis.  “Not really but… well, I kind of have my eye on someone.”

Ah, now this was good. “And?”  His eyebrows lifted to the ceiling in mock surprise.

“And... I can’t ask hi – er, them out quite yet.” 

He swore there was a hint of pink rising to his cheeks.  “Why they hell not?  They married or some shit?”

Wes shook his head.  “Not quite but still it’s complicated.”

Curious.  “The mystery person works with us, don’t they?”  He was careful to use gender neutral pronouns so that Wes didn’t feel the need to lie about her.  Also, he was afraid he’d slip up and Wes would know that he knew. 

“Maybe,” he evaded, not really fooling anyone. 

“You little dawg,” he crowed.  “And after all the shit you’ve given me about this very thing, too!”

“This is different,” he protested.  “I haven’t slept with every woman in the building like you have!”

“I haven’t either,” Travis defended.  “There are a few still holding out on me.”

“Ooooh,” Wes laughed.  “I’m impressed that someone hasn’t fallen for that patented Marks charm yet.”

“Give it time,” he said.  “Ultimately they all fall.  Female, male, doesn’t matter.”  He gave Wes a flirty wink to make his point.  “Even you will, eventually.”

Wes looked up at that, eyes wide.  “Men, too?  I’d have never pegged you for…”

Travis gave a small smile as his voice trailed off.  “For what?  Being bisexual?” He tried for a casual shrug, not convinced he’d pulled it off.  “I’m an equal opportunity lover, man.  If you’re interested in me, chances are, I’ll be interested in you.  All ya gotta do is be real with me, know what I’m saying?” 

Nodding, Wes said, “Yeah, I do.  How many boyfriends have you had?”

Little shit’s curious tonight, isn’t he? “Never had a boyfriend,” he confessed.  “But I have had three or four male lovers.”  He was pretty sure he could hear Wes trying to swallow his tongue from across the table.  “What about you?”

The mouthful of Scotch he’d just imbibed sprayed from his mouth, splattering Travis’ hands and forearms.  “What?”  Wes wiped his mouth with a napkin and grimaced when he noticed the mess he’d made of Travis.  “Sorry about that, you caught me off guard.”

“No problem,” Travis grinned, taking the napkin from Wes’ trembling hand and began to clean the sprayed alcohol from his skin.  “So, fess up.  Ever have a boyfriend, Mitchell?  What about a one-time fling?”

He was being mean and tormenting his partner, but he’d had just enough booze to cease caring.  Besides, it was fun to poke the caged Wes. 

“No,” he insisted, “never.  Not even once.  My parents would not have been pleased if something like that had happened, and that’s an understatement if I’ve ever made one.  Experimenting or not, it would not have had a happy ending.”

He’d figured as much.  Wes’ parents, the one time he’d met them, came off as good people, but not very forward thinking.  That Wes was working with a non-white partner was enough to give them pause.  Not that they’d ever say so to his face, they were much too well behaved for any of that nonsense, but he could read it on their faces.  It explained a lot about why Mitchell was such a tight ass, however. 

“I get that,” he sympathized.  “Have you ever been tempted?”  He watched Wes intently now, curious if his secret caused him any discomfort outside the long arm of his father’s law.  He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again.  Travis could tell he’d thrown the boy a curveball and he was swinging and missing.

“I – I’m not sure,” he finally said.  Wes picked up his glass, finished off what remained and motioned for another. 

“How can you not be sure?  Either you were tempted by some sexy man – me, for example – or you weren’t.  Doesn’t mean you acted on it, asked him out, kissed him, whatever.  Just means he made you… feel something.”

Some strange emotion passed across his partner’s face before he responded.  “No, Marks, can’t say I’ve ever been tempted.  Not even by you.”

Liar.  “So, if some gorgeous man – ”

“ – like you – ”

“ – like me – came in here right now, flirted with you and asked to buy you a drink, you wouldn’t even give it a second thought?” 

“Depends,” he said after careful consideration.

“On what?”  Travis was enjoying the banter but not half as much as he was enjoying watching his partner loosen up and give as good as he got for a change. 

“On whether such a man was even a tenth as charming as you are.”  Wes fluttered his eyelashes playfully. 

“Baby, there ain’t no man a tenth as charming as I am,” Travis informed him. 

“I’ve gotta admit,” Wes said, leaning forward, placing his arms on the table in front of him, “that when you call me baby, I am tempted.”

“Now see, that’s something we can work with, baby.”


He’d done it again.  And this time, he’d allowed Marks to do it to him.

Wait, he didn’t mean he’d let Travis do that to him, no matter how appealing the idea was.  No, he’d let Travis lure him into a bar and get himself drunk.  Again.  Needless to say, Wes was not just disappointed in his lack of self-control, but more embarrassed by what he couldn’t remember.  What had he said?  Done?  Had he given Travis any indication of what he really felt?  God, he hoped he hadn’t.  Not that he was embarrassed by his attraction to his partner, quite the opposite.  Even if he was a loudmouth without a filter, Travis was also a handsome, charming man who just happened to be one hell of a detective to boot.  Where was the shame in admiring someone like that?

Oh, right.  When he’s your partner.  That definitely complicated things, that and the fact Travis wasn’t interested in men.  Or was he?  Some faint bit of conversation from the night before flitted through his memory.  ‘I’m an equal opportunity lover, man.’ No.  He was imagining things, Travis wouldn’t ever…

“Enough, Mitchell,” he growled to the empty hotel room.  “You’ll make yourself nuts if you keep this up.  Get showered, get dressed, and get the hell to work.”

Easier said than done.  He hadn’t imbibed so much alcohol since the week he’d turned twenty-one and his body was letting him know at every turn that he wasn’t exactly twenty-one any longer.  It took twenty minutes just to get into the shower, and then he never wanted to leave.  The hot water washed away everything but the headache.  Wes dried his hair and caught sight of himself in the mirror.  Aside from a pair of dark circles under his eyes, he looked better than he felt.  Maybe he could keep this hangover from Travis if he tried hard enough.


No such luck.

“Soooo,” Travis drawled, slinging an arm across Wes’ shoulders later that morning.  “how you feeling, baby?  You looked a little worse for wear when you left last night.”

“Yeah, about that,” Wes said, pulling away from Travis’ playful embrace.  “You made me a promise, remember?”

“What promise I –”  It dawned on him then that he had made Wes a promise.  A promise not to let him get trashed a second time this week.  And he’d broken that promise into itty bitty pieces.  “Shit, you’re right, Wes.  I screwed up.”

“Yeah, you did, and I want to die this morning.  Thank you very much.”  He started to walk away, stopped, and turned back.  “Not that this is completely your fault, I am an adult, but you promised me.  And I trusted you.”

Something very akin to hurt crossed Wes’ expression right then and it confused Travis.  He had screwed up, but usually that just pissed Mitchell off.  Why was he so upset?  “I said I was sorry.  Can we fight about this later after we find out what new disaster has landed on our desks?”

Wes glared at him for a minute longer before blowing out an angry breath.  “Fine, but this isn’t over.  I’m mad at you.

“I know,” Travis sighed, following Wes into the robbery homicide division.  “And you have every right to be.  But you were enjoying yourself so much and we never just talk like that – like real people having a conversation, you know?”

The expression on Wes’ face softened a bit at that.  “Yeah, I do know.  We’re either fighting like we hate each other or strictly talking business.  I guess I can’t blame you.  You can be good company.  When you try.”

Travis’ grin split his face.  “Same to you, blondie.  You’re actually kinda interesting.”

The smile that lit his partner’s face erased any lingering trace of hangover.  Wes’ eyes sparkled at the semi-compliment and a faint flush colored his always-pale cheeks.  “Uh, thanks, Travis,” he stumbled out. 

“Anytime,” he responded before adding, “anytime I’m in trouble that is.”

Giving him a shove, Wes growled, “You are such a jerk, Marks.  Gah!”

Travis laughed loudly, watching the detective storm off towards his desk.  Really, he made it too easy to tease him sometimes.  Although Travis knew he should back off, especially this morning knowing he was hung over, he found himself unable to do so.  There was something about pushing Wes’ buttons that gave him a thrill.

“Weeeeees,” he called playfully, “wait for me, baby!



Thankfully, Wes had calmed down as the day went on and fell back into his old routine.  Aside from the fact he wouldn’t meet Travis’ eyes, his partner felt like things were back to normal.  This made him happy.  He hated it when Wes was angry with him, even more so when he knew it was his fault. 

“You want some lunch?” 

Travis looked up from the file in front of him and nodded.  “Yeah, I’m starving.  What sounds good to you?”

Wes fiddled with his computer mouse for a moment, avoiding Travis’ eyes for the fiftieth time that morning.  “I don’t care, whatever you’re craving today works for me.”

That was odd.  Wes had a strict I-don’t-eat-anything-Marks-likes policy in effect.  “You sure?  ‘Cause I was going to suggest some burgers and fries.”

Shrugging, Wes tried to pretend like it was okay.  “Yeah, that’s fine, Marks.  Where from?”

He could see the blond was flat out lying now and desperately trying to hide it.  Why?  And why now, especially since he’d never hesitated to tell him to try again before.  “There’s a place two blocks over on the corner.”

“Dylan’s or something like that?”  Wes raised his eyes and met Travis’ gaze for the first time all day. 

“That’s the place, you know it?”

“Driven past but haven’t ever stopped.  Why?”

“Just curious.  They serve more than burgers and fries though, so you can protect your poor, deprived body from all that fat and cholesterol.”

“Just wish I could protect it from you and your big mouth,” he retorted, standing. 

“Aww, but there ain’t no protection from me, blondie.  You oughta know that by now.”  Travis grinned and stood to follow his partner. 


“Go ahead and order, Marks,” Wes instructed him, standing back and staring at the menu. 

Travis gave Wes a look and then told the young man at the register, “Double cheeseburger, loaded, fries, and a Coke.  And don’t forget the fry sauce this time, kid.”

Wes made a face.  “You’re going to have a heart attack by forty if you keep eating that way.” 

“Naw,” Travis said.  “I do exercise you know.” 

“That all for you today,” the man-child behind the counter asked.

“Yes,” Travis said, reaching for his wallet.

“No,” Wes interrupted him.  “Also, an oriental chicken salad, dressing on the side, and a bottle of water please.” 

The kid punched in the rest of the order, read it back to them, and asked again, “That everything?”

“Yes,” Wes said, “that’s it.”

He read off the total and Wes held out a few bills to cover it.  They took their food to a booth and sat, unwrapping and preparing their lunch to their standards.  “What do I owe you, Wes?”

“Nothing.  Call it an apology for my being such a jerk earlier.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Travis said, taking a giant bite of his burger. 

Wes made another face.  “I do because I was wrong.  It wasn’t your responsibility to keep me sober.  And do you really have to have so many onions on your hamburger?  I hope you don’t plan on kissing anyone this afternoon.”

Travis took another huge bite and chewed slowly, watching his partner’s face.  “Dontcha like onions, Mitchell?”

Forking a piece of chicken, Wes raised it to his lips and said, “Of course I like onions, just not on the breath of the man kissing me.”

That stopped Travis mid-bite.  Unsure if he should ignore it or not, he went with his usual tactic.  He decided to tease Wes.  “You expecting a kiss of gratitude for buying me lunch, baby?”

Opening his mouth and then snapping it closed, Wes shook his head.  “No.  No!  Of course not, that’s not what I meant.  I just – ”

Travis laughed.  “I’m yanking your chain, Mitchell.  Lighten up.  Eat your salad.  We’ve got a long afternoon ahead of us.”  Reaching across the table, he squeezed his partner’s hand, holding it just long enough to get his point across before withdrawing it.


Wes thought working with Travis would be a lot easier if only he didn’t flirt with everyone and everything so indiscriminately.  That he included Wes in his flirting only made things that much more difficult to deal with.  Being in love with your partner was rough enough, but when he treated you like every pretty girl he met, it became downright unbearable.   And confusing.

The way he’d touched Wes’ hand after lunch had undone him.  So casual and yet it made Wes’ heart pound in his chest.  It’d taken nearly the rest of the afternoon to recover from it.  Not that he’d ever fully recover from the touch of Travis Marks, but he could try. 

If nothing else, he could take it with him and keep the memory for later.  Later – like the next time Travis had a date with some hot blonde or redhead. 


He was loath to admit it, but Travis had come to a conclusion after the weirdness of the day.  The previous night, Wes had confessed that he tempted him.  While he might have been joking, he’d had just enough Scotch to possibly be telling the truth. It was something Travis would have to figure out later.  Maybe ask Wes again when they were both sober enough to be honest.  Earlier, during lunch, Wes had not only bought his lunch, but hinted at the idea that kissing him after eating onions would be a huge turn off.  And he couldn’t forget the oddest part of the whole damn day – Wes had apologized to him.

That never happened.  Ever.

It brought him to an undeniable conclusion, one that he was almost afraid to admit, even to himself.  His partner had a crush on him.  As bizarre as the idea was, the clues were all there, in black and white.  The avoidance of eye contact after the night before – surely Wes remembered some of what they’d discussed?  Travis had confessed to being attracted to men and Wes had reciprocated by hinting that he was attracted to Travis.  Buying him lunch, being concerned over the excessive amount of fat and cholesterol he continually consumed, the onions, the kiss… the way Wes’ breath had caught when he’d touched his hand. 

Yeah.

Too bad Wes had no idea what he was getting himself into.  As attractive as his partner was – those dimples were enough to make any man want to pinch his cheeks – he was much too good for the likes of this guy.  Travis Marks had a habit of breaking everything he touched, leaving his relationships shattered on the ground behind him as he walked away from each and every one.  He wasn’t a staying kind of guy, and he knew without asking that that was what Wes needed – craved – someone who would stay.

You’re falling for the wrong kind of man, baby.  Keep on walking…

Continues here.

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