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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Life and Death of the Party
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks/Wes Mitchell
Rating: a mild R
Word Count: 9,031
Author’s Note: I have a friend who loves sending me outfits for Wesleigh to wear and she was wondering when the cowgirl would make an appearance. Wait no longer… (costume here)
“You have anything going on for Halloween this year?” Travis had perched himself on the edge of his partner’s desk and was looking down at him.
“No,” Wes said, slowly, trying to decide if this question was a trap or an invitation. “Why would I have plans for Halloween? I don’t have any kids and I live in a hotel.”
“Good point,” Travis agreed, resituating himself on the desktop.
Wes pulled a file out from under his partner’s very fine ass and glared. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but why are you interested?”
Travis shrugged, looking off towards the captain’s office. “The girls in therapy cornered me yesterday when you stepped out to take that call.”
“And?” He wasn’t in any mood to play Travis’ games. They’d had a late night – both at work and afterwards – and he didn’t do well without a good night’s sleep.
“And nothing.” He opened a file near his thigh and flipped through it. “But I thought you might like to go.”
“Don’t we spend enough time with those wing wangs? Do you really want to go to a party most likely hosted by Peter and Dakota?”
He made a face and shook his head. “How’d you know Peter and Dakota were hosting?”
Wes gave him a ‘please don’t be stupid look’. “Because Dakota is just that kind of woman. Not that that’s a bad thing, because she’s a good woman, but she’s annoying in her perkiness.”
“Okay, so another good point,” Travis agreed. “Is that a no then?”
He met his partner’s questioning gaze, those brilliant blue eyes burning holes into his soul. “Are there going to be costumes involved?”
“Well…” Travis drew the word out, making Wes wonder exactly what Dakota and Rozelle had talked him into. “They’re not mandatory but…”
“Then the answer is ‘no’. I am not dressing up for this.” That he’d once put on a maid’s outfit for Travis’ benefit wasn’t lost on him either. Then again, that wasn’t in public and was strictly for their own amusement.
“Not even for me,” Travis asked, batting his eyelashes playfully.
Wes leaned closer to his partner. “Will you not do that here,” he begged. “And no I will not dress up for some foolish party.”
“You’re such a spoilsport,” he teased. “And I even told Dakota you had an outfit planned.”
Panic filled his chest at the thought of Travis telling anyone something like that. “Did you tell her what kind of outfit,” he asked, stiffly. Praying to the gods above that he hadn’t told the therapy girls that he was planning to come as a go-go dancer or something equally as embarrassing.
“Naw, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He smiled and gave his head a slow shake. “I left it up to their imaginations, although I’d hope you’d come as a cowgirl.”
“Travis,” Wes spat, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention. “Not. Here.”
“Whatever, Wes. It was just a thought.” He slid off the edge of the blond’s desk and looked towards the break room. “I’m going to go get some coffee.”
Taking slow, deep breaths, he tried to steady his rapidly beating heart. Travis stalked across the squad room floor in search of caffeine, leaving him to his thoughts. They’d made such huge progress while they were in Vegas a month ago and now Travis was right back where they started and he couldn’t figure it out. With a sigh, he pushed to his feet and went in search of his partner.
“Travis,” he said, touching his shoulder lightly.
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Please stop acting like a child. You know why I said what I said.” Wes leaned his rear against the countertop, arms crossed against his chest.
“Yeah, because it turns you on,” Travis chuckled, pouring himself a cup of stale stationhouse coffee.
“Not true,” he defended. Marks turned an accusing look on him. “Okay, so not entirely true. But you know we have a reputation to protect and I’d lose all credibility if anyone ever got wind of this.”
With a roll of his eyes, Travis nodded. “Okay, you’re right about that and I’m sorry, but no one was near enough to hear. Even if they did, they’d have no idea what we were talking about.”
“For the record? You make me insane,” Wes stated.
“But it’s why you love me,” he reminded him.
He wasn’t willing to admit to that quite yet. “Can I interest you in an alternate celebration maybe?”
Curiosity flickered on Travis’ face even as he hesitated to take the bait. “I’ll tell you after I hear it.”
Wes sighed and looked around the empty break room. “A friend of mine – and Alex’s actually – recently split from his wife and –”
“And apparently, being a lawyer isn’t good for your marriage,” Travis interjected.
With a scathing look, Wes continued. “He still works for the firm so we’d have to keep this quiet, but he’s trying to sell his place at Lake Arrowhead. He’s been calling me for the last two months to go up and stay the weekend.”
“Wesley Mitchell, are you proposing we go away for Halloween?” Travis looked scandalized at the idea, but he knew his partner was anything but offended by the offer.
“Why not? Didn’t we just spend several days together in Vegas?” Wes shook his head in confusion. “Besides, what would you have us do?”
“Go trick-or-treating?”
“Not on your damn life, Marks,” Wes hissed through clenched teeth. “And no parties with those insane, match-making therapy women either!”
“You have no sense of adventure,” Travis scoffed, taking a drink of his coffee and making a face.
“Discussing your weekend, are we boys?” Detective Kate Cafferty strode into the break room and reached for a mug from the shelf over Travis’ head.
“No we were not discussing our weekend, Kate.” Wes gave Travis a meaningful look before turning on his heel and walking away.
“He can be so sensitive,” he heard Marks tell Kate. “Wes man, wait up. I have an idea about the case we’re working.”
Despite his better judgment, Wes slowed and allowed Travis to catch up. “Talk and walk, I know that coffee you’re carrying is disgusting.”
“Are you going to buy me a fresh cup?” Marks batted his eyelashes as best he could.
His first instinct was to say ‘hell no, buy your own’ but he’d promised he’d try to be nicer in public. So, instead he nodded. “Of course, why wouldn’t I buy my partner a fresh cup of coffee?” He gave Travis a light punch to the shoulder, just to keep things weird.
“You’ve lost your pretty little mind,” Travis observed, “but I’m holding you to that coffee.”
Wes handed over enough money to cover their drinks and a tip and inclined his head towards the side of the building. “Let’s take a walk and discuss this issue we’re having.”
“I don’t see what the problem is though,” Travis said, taking a long drag off his coffee and sighing with relief. “This is a thousand times better than that crap in the station.”
“Exaggerate much,” Wes teased, taking a drink of his own coffee. “You can’t see the problem with dressing me as a go-go dancer –”
“I was thinking cowgirl, man, but if you want thigh highs and a glittery –”
“ – and parade me around people we know? How’d you ever pass the detective’s exam with missing something so obvious?”
“Look, I get why you wouldn’t want to dress up – as anything – around the guys we work with, but outside of work? It’s Halloween, man. Dressing up is the point of it all.”
“No, the point of Halloween is to look like the spirits supposedly invading our world so they don’t come after us. That’s where the tradition started.” He spotted a bench and made his way over to it, sitting heavily onto the wooden slats.
“I should have known you’d know the true origin of the holiday,” Travis grinned, dropping onto the bench beside him. “But my point still remains. Those girls will squeal and obsess over how your shoes match your dress and your dress matches your lipstick and I doubt anyone outside of Mrs. Dumont will find it odd you’re wearing women’s clothes. And she gets a pass because she’s older than the rest of us.”
Although he refused to acknowledge it, Travis had a small point. But… “So, does that mean you’ll be my sidekick and dress as a cowgirl, too?” He hadn’t actually meant it, but he couldn’t resist saying it either, and the look of terror on Travis’ face was priceless. “What’s the matter, Marks? Afraid of a pair of heels?”
“Only when they’re on your feet, baby,” he admitted. “I had pictured myself as the villain of the story –”
“Which is a better fit than you might guess,” Wes added, garnering a glare from Travis.
“Or even your cowboy boyfriend.”
“Not my horse,” he asked, half ashamed at himself for suggesting something so rude, and more than half pleased at his ability to vocalize an idea that evocative.
Travis’ nostrils flared slightly, eyes widening. “Now there’s an idea, baby. But if you even think about riding this stud before the party, we’ll never make it out of the barn.”
“Leave it to you to take a horse metaphor that far,” he laughed. “Can’t we find a happy medium here somewhere?”
“We don’t have to go to Dakota and Peter’s party, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He frowned at the disappointment he heard in his partner’s voice. Going by the discussions they would have after leaving therapy most days, you’d think Travis couldn’t stand any of them, outside of Dr. Ryan. But it seemed as if Wes had misjudged them all because it was apparent Travis had bonded with them.
Or, the women at least.
“Is this really that important to you?” This conversation was getting more bizarre by the second. “I have no problem going to the party,” he said, which wasn’t completely true, but he’d do it if it meant erasing that look from Marks’ face. “I just won’t do it in drag.”
“I can respect that,” he said, reaching for Wes’ hand and hesitating.
Wes turned his hand so it faced palm up, a gentle hint that it was okay. The warmth that enveloped him at the touch of Travis’ fingers on his skin was nearly his undoing. He’d agree to anything just so long as he didn’t let go. “But?”
“But nothing.” Travis shrugged, noncommittal. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d have a problem going out in a Halloween costume is all. Especially after Vegas.”
Because they had gone on an actual date in Vegas. Travis’ obliviousness made sense for once. “That was different because we were expanding our boundaries in Vegas. And no one knew us there.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think about that,” he confessed. “Should I apologize now?”
“Hell no,” Wes grinned. “You’re making progress, you know. By thinking about things and asking before you do something stupid.”
“Except assuming that you’d be willing to go to a party in drag simply because everyone else will be in costume, too?”
“Nope, that doesn’t count.” As he thought about it, he realized that it really didn’t either. Travis was so comfortable with both of his personas that it didn’t even occur to him that he might not be comfortable with one or the other in a situation. That spoke volumes for Travis’ ability to adapt and accept what was put before him.
“Why not?” His question was genuine, the curiosity bright in his eyes.
“Because it means you like me. All of me, even the parts I’m not always sure I want to admit to having.”
“Like the falsies?” Travis gave his chest area a lewd glance.
“No, not those, you jerk,” he said, poking him in the ribs for good measure. “But you know what I mean, judging by that smartass comment.”
“Of course I know what you mean, Wesleigh,” he whispered, leaning in so that his words brushed Wes’ ear.
“And if you call me that at work one more time,” he threatened in a voice no one but Travis could hear, “I’ll show you just how scary a pair of heels can be. Got it?”
“I love you when you’re feisty,” he replied, grin splitting his face.
Wes sighed. “And sometimes, like right now, I wonder why I ever let you into my life.” Despite the continual frustration, he didn’t regret it one bit. Although, he’d never let Travis know that. “Again, is there no middle ground here?”
Travis rubbed his chin with a finger for a moment before an idea came to him. “How about we go to the party and dress up later?”
“You mean, go as our usual selves for the party and then I dress up for you when we get back well, wherever we end up that night?”
“Exactly,” he said, pointing a finger at Wes. “You read my mind.”
He’d really like to let him read his boot once he put it up his rear, but they had a job to do and with no other reason to delay, he declared the coffee break over. “Come on, let’s get back to work.”
“Does that mean we’re a go?” The expression on his face was too hopeful to crush.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, simply, evading a direct answer.
“Over dinner, I hope,” Travis hinted before swallowing the last of his coffee in one long gulp.
“You are not only difficult, but also a bottomless pit,” he grumbled, standing and leaving his partner sitting on the bench behind him.
Halloween was only a handful of days away and Wes still hadn’t confirmed that he’d be willing to go along with Travis’ plan. Half of it was that he really didn’t want to go hang out with their therapy group on a Friday night. But most of it was because Travis automatically assumed he would be willing to dress up, only to get undressed again, when Marks didn’t have to do a damn thing. He was going to have to come to a decision quickly, however, since the morning’s therapy session was due to begin in half an hour. Last week, Dakota had ambushed him on his way into the community center, eager as ever to know if they’d be attending her soiree or not.
“You’re early,” Dr. Ryan announced when he walked into the room twenty minutes later. “And without Travis, too. Is everything okay?”
“Yep, everything’s fine,” he lied, praying she wouldn’t pick up on his deceit.
“I see. You want to elaborate on that fabrication?” Her smile cut some of the harshness from her words.
“No, not particularly,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“So, everything’s not fine but…?”
“But we’re okay, he and I,” he finished for her.
“Are you sure about that?”
Her tone implied that she was only making sure, double checking in case he wanted to vent. But it also made him stop and rethink his position on this. Were they really okay? Travis had stopped by over the weekend and spent the night, but it had been only that one night. Not that they had gotten to the point of shacking up together seven days a week, not even close, but Marks had taken to coming over out of the blue two or three times a week. Right up to the point where he’d refused to make a decision on this damn party.
So, he went with as much of the truth as he could muster. “Yeah, I think we’re more good than we’re bad right now.”
“That’s good to hear,” she responded, warmth filling her words. “No couple is ever completely good or bad, respectively.”
“What couple are we talking about,” Travis asked, entering the room a good five minutes ahead of his usual time.
“Why, you and Wes, of course,” Dr. Ryan chirped.
Travis gave him a long, lingering look. “What did you tell her, baby?”
Flushing, Wes glared at him. “She meant in the professional fashion, you jerk.”
“Oh,” Travis laughed, guiltily. “That.”
“Is there another way I should be looking at the two of you,” Dr. Ryan asked, sneaking it in during the heavy silence.
“No,” Travis and Wes said, nearly at the same moment, neither one quite convincing enough to fool Dr. Ryan.
“Well, okay then,” she agreed, the disbelief clear on her face. “I guess I’ll have to believe you for now.”
“Wes!”
He looked up and saw Dakota coming towards him at the speed of light. “I need to know right this minute if you and Travis are coming or not. I need to buy food and I’d hate to run out.” She gave Travis a pointed look after the last statement.
“You never want to run out of food when Travis is involved,” he agreed. But what did he tell her? That eager look had returned to his partner’s face, the one that just begged him to say ‘yes’. Against his better judgment, he gave in. “Yes, of course, we’ll be there.”
Travis’ surprised response of ‘we will’ was more than drowned out by Dakota’s shriek of pure happiness. Throwing her arms around Wes’ neck, she hugged him close, gave a squeeze, and let him go. “Okay, seven o’clock sharp. Don’t be late!”
“We won’t,” he assured her, wondering what kind of fresh hell he’d just set himself up for.
“And don’t forget your costumes,” she reminded him.
“There will be no costumes, Dakota,” Wes said, more gently than he had thought himself capable of. “It was my one stipulation to this bozo over here. Can we still attend?”
She pouted for a moment before nodding. “Of course you can. It won’t be nearly as much fun, but we won’t turn you away either.”
Dr. Ryan smiled out amongst her small group, making note that everyone had finally arrived. “Now that that’s settled, can we get started?” A mixed chorus of ‘sure’ and other positive responses filled the room. And so they began.
“Anything on your minds that you’d like to discuss before the session is over?” Dr. Ryan looked out around the group, checking faces as she went. Clyde and Rozelle both shook their heads no. Same for the Dumonts. Her eyes landed on Peter and Dakota, garnering a sheepish smile from the latter.
“Just stressing about my Halloween party, Dr. Ryan. Nothing to discuss there,” she said.
“True,” Dr. Ryan agreed. “That is a normal worry to have. Wes and Travis? How about the two of you?”
Wes’ gut clenched, worried that she was going to go back to her earlier question regarding the changing status of their partnership. “No ma’am,” he assured her.
“Actually,” Travis cut in, slicing a look in Wes’ direction, “I do have one issue.”
“Oh for the love of God, Travis. No,” Wes begged.
“Travis,” Dr. Ryan encouraged, “what’s on your mind?”
“Well,” he began, leaning forward, placing his hands on his thighs, “Dakota requested we wear costumes to her party and –”
“And is this really something you need to drag out here?”
Travis ignored him. “Wes refuses to wear a costume. I even picked out something perfect.”
“Perfect,” Wes spluttered. “You want me to wear a skirt!”
“Now this is interesting,” Rozelle grinned, elbowing her husband in the side.
“I know, right,” Dakota added in. “Wes, you can absolutely come dressed in a skirt if you want.”
He tore his eyes off Travis and focused them on her. “What?”
Dakota shrugged. “It’s Halloween, who cares? You’re supposed to be hiding from the spirits roaming the earth and what better way to confuse them than by dressing as a woman?”
Wes blinked, dumbfounded. It was obvious he did not give this woman nearly enough credit. “I – I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Are you going to shave your legs,” Mr. Dumont asked, a look that was three-quarters horror, one-quarter curiosity plastered on his face.
“I hadn’t thought about it but…”
“Wes,” Dr. Ryan said, drawing everyone’s attention back to her. “Travis? Is this true? You wanted him to dress as a woman?”
Embarrassed, Travis shrugged. “It’s true that I asked but –”
“Why?” This time it was Clyde interrupting.
“Good question,” Dr. Ryan agreed. “Why a dress, Travis?”
“Okay, so not so much a dress as a cowgirl outfit,” he confessed.
“Are you going to be his cowboy counterpart,” Dakota asked, glee pouring out of every cell of her body at the possibilities.
“Can we please focus for a moment? You can ask Wes and Travis all the questions you want as soon as the session is over.” Dr. Ryan turned her gaze back on Travis. “Is there a meaning behind the cowgirl outfit, Travis, or did you have another motive?”
Aside from the nine hundred jokes he figured he would have to suffer through, all regarding riding or being ridden, Wes felt as clueless as Dr. Ryan. He was terrified of what Travis might actually give as a valid reason, even though he was certain he’d never divulge the actual reason behind his choice.
Giving a one-shoulder shrug, Travis looked around the room. “I thought it’d be a good way to get blondie here to loosen up a bit.”
“Interesting,” Dr. Ryan said, watching Travis closely. “And also a good idea. I think –”
“What?” Wes shot to his feet, horrified.
“Wes, sit and hear me out.” She made a lowering motion with her hand, encouraging him to park his rear. “I think it would be an excellent trust exercise for you to attend the party in the costume Travis has picked out for you. You’re among friends, and none of them will judge you.”
“We might snap a few pictures behind your back though,” Rozelle muttered to Dakota, earning the look of death from Wes.
“And what about Travis? Why am I being tortured while he gets to sit around and gloat?”
“He’ll have his own trust exercise,” she said. “His task will be to escort you and be your date. Now,” she lifted a hand to stop any incoming questions or exclamations before they started, “I know you’re not a couple, not in the sense that the rest of the group is, but for one night, you will be.”
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” Dakota squealed, rubbing her hands together in excitement, a grin matching her enthusiasm solidly planted on her husband’s face.
“I think we can live with that for one night,” Travis stated, squeezing Wes’ knee playfully.
“You are so not getting any,” Wes muttered, barely loud enough for Travis to hear.
“What was that honey?” Travis cupped a hand behind his ear, waiting.
“Nothing,” he replied in a more normal tone of voice. “Are we done yet?”
Dr. Ryan glanced at the clock. “Yes, I think we are.”
“Do you think Dr. Ryan suspects something?” Travis was drawing patterns in his ketchup with a fry.
Wes had been wondering the same thing all morning. “Honestly,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “I think she’s suspected something since day one, long before there was ever anything to suspect.”
“Huh, interesting,” he said, shoving the fry into his mouth. “Are you really okay with doing this then?”
He shook his head. “Not really, if you want the truth.”
“But?” He waved another stick of fried potato in the air.
“But, the therapy girls,” Wes started, rubbing his fingers across his mouth while he considered how to phrase his thoughts. “They were rather… open… to the idea, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, they were,” Travis cackled. “And I think you might have gotten Peter all hot and bothered in the process.”
“Will you stop with that? I did no such thing,” he complained.
“I beg to differ,” Travis countered. “But what Dakota said was rather insightful, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” Wes said, shrugging. “Are you about done yet? We have work to do this afternoon.”
Friday came faster than he had anticipated and it left him feeling off kilter. Travis had stopped by the night before with his costume and stayed for dinner, which became dessert, and eventually rolled over into breakfast. He’d barely managed to get Marks out of his hotel room with enough time to grab a quick shower and get to the station on time.
Travis, on the other hand, was late. As usual.
It was nearly quarter after by the time he arrived. “It’s about damn time,” Wes scolded. “You start your trick-or-treating already?”
A sly, unreliable grin lit his face. “Nope, I went shopping.”
That was not a good thing. “What precisely did you go shopping for, Travis?”
He tossed a bag onto the desk between them. “Look for yourself,” he said. “Oh, but you might not want to pull it all the way out of the bag in here.”
Cautiously, he looked into the bad and found a navy colored scrap of lace. Moving the item around, it took him a moment to figure out exactly what it was. “You bought me underwear?” He wasn’t all that surprised by that because, in itself, wasn’t all that unusual. Travis had bought him more than a few undergarments since their little tryst had begun earlier that year. What shocked him is that he’d brought them into the station and given them to him.
“Yeah,” he said, pointing to the bag. “They have a faux leather trim and fringe that hangs from the waistband. Cute as fuck and I can’t wait to see them…”
“Travis,” he warned.
“…on the floor later.”
Wes shut his mouth with a snap, because how could he argue with that? He stuffed the bag into his top desk drawer and glowered at his partner. “You really walk the line sometimes, you know that?”
“Yup, I practice my high wire act when you’re not looking.” With a wink, he grabbed the case file off of Wes’ desk and sat in his own char, looking it over.
“Oh so now you want to work,” Wes grumbled, tapping his pen against the edge of the desk. “Figures.”
Dakota’s party was in an hour, making Wes’ stomach roll with anxiety. Travis said he’d be by at quarter till to pick him up, and that made him even more nervous. That he was attending a Halloween party in drag was enough to give anyone a case of the worries. Knowing that he and Travis were tapped to play the night out as the couple they were desperately trying to become completely freaked him out.
He poked at the costume Marks had brought him and sighed. It was currently hanging in the bathroom after having been ironed into shape. It was comprised of a denim vest, faux denim bra, and a shorter than hell denim skirt. Both the vest and skirt were trimmed in leather fringe, much like the underwear Travis had given him earlier that morning. He had to admit though, after he’d gotten them out of the package and took a good look at them, they truly were adorable. High cut and form fitting, they’d even make his boyish ass look good.
His phone started singing a song he didn’t recognize and realized it was the alarm he’d set earlier that day. Figuring he’d put off getting dressed for as long as possible, the kick in the rear from the alarm got him into gear. He looked longingly in the direction of his kitchen, pining for that bottle of Scotch hidden in his tiny pantry. Steeling his nerve, he entered the bathroom and decided that it was now or never.
The bra top wasn’t nearly as fitted as he would have liked, and he longed for his set of falsies to fill himself out. That, however, wasn’t even possible as he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone wondering why he just happened to have a set on hand. So, he slipped it on and fastened it, frowning at the flatness of his natural chest.
Travis’ choice in undergarments, however, really lifted his spirits. They fit just as well as he thought they might, and the swaying of the fringe coerced a smile out of him, despite his feelings about the evening ahead. Turning to look at his rear in the mirror, he found his mood bolstered and hurried into the rest of the costume. The denim vest slid on easily, as did the skirt – he had no real hips after all and was thankful for the wide, brown leather belt that had been tossed in with it. Topping off the outfit were a pair of knee-high worn leather boots and a beat up old cowboy hat that had to have been Travis’ in a previous life. The finishing touch was a wide leather wristlet with a western design stitched into it.
He was still admiring himself in the mirror when Travis knocked at the door. “Coming,” he hollered, fixing his bangs one last time before turning off the light.
“Well look at you,” Travis crowed, stepping inside. “I think I’ve finally picked up the knack for dressing you properly.”
Wes couldn’t help but preen at the compliment, even if it was mostly directed at Travis. “Uh, thanks.”
Travis ran his fingers through the fringe dangling from the vest. “No makeup tonight though, huh? Shame.”
He made a face. “Didn’t know you missed it so much,” Wes admitted. “I didn’t want to go too overboard –”
“Say no more, I totally get it,” Travis assured him. “But I love how the mascara makes your big blue eyes pop right off your face, baby.”
Wes blinked. “You really think so?” In all honestly, he hadn’t thought Travis paid that much attention to what he did or why.
“Definitely,” he agreed. “But we can’t have the girls suspecting anything, at least, not yet.”
“What do you mean by ‘not yet’?”
Travis shrugged. “Well, the minute they see you in this outfit, they’re all going to know it’s not your first time.”
He hadn’t considered that. “Should I be more awkward?”
“No, I don’t think the world could handle a more awkward Wes Mitchell,” Travis teased.
“Look, Cowboy,” he said, having finally noticed the worn jeans, beat up boots, and cowboy hat Travis was sporting, “you can shut the hell up any time now, understand?”
“Understood,” he grinned. “Can’t be upsettin’ the little lady now, can we?”
“Ah, shut the fuck up, Marks, or this date is off.”
“As you wish, Buttercup.” He threw Wes a flirty wink and rested his hand on the front door. “We ready?”
“Not really,” Wes confessed, “but we had better leave or we’ll be late.”
“And god forbid we’re late to Dakota’s party,” Travis drawled.
Travis parked Wes’ car neatly at the curb. Turning to his partner, he gave him a stern look. “Do not even think about touching that door handle. I’ll get it for you.”
“Why gee, you’re so kind, Mr. Marks,” he said, watching Travis get out of the driver’s seat. The urge to reach out and press a finger against the handle was almost overwhelming, but he restrained himself. Even with all the anxiety surrounding his situation, he truly wanted everything to go as perfectly as possible. The door opened beside him and he looked up, eyes landing on Travis’ smiling face.
“We’ve arrived,” he said. “It’s too late to back out now.” He offered his hand and helped Wes out of the car.
“Now that’s a real shame. I was hoping I could convince you to take me back home.” He gave a flutter of his eyelashes on the off chance it might sway Marks’ position.
“All in due time,” he stated. “I’ve got all weekend to get you home with me.”
“Travis? Is that you and – oh!” Dakota’s slim frame appeared out of the shadows, brilliant smile leading the way.
“Yeah, it’s us,” Travis said, leaning in to give her a quick hug. “You look amazing.”
She twirled, sending the hem of her 1920’s-era flapper dress swaying. “You think so?”
“I do,” Travis agreed. “Please tell me Peter’s dressed as Al Capone.”
“Not quite, but he is a gangster,” she said, turning to Wes. “You look amazing, Wes. Seriously.”
“Th-thanks,” he stammered, unsure of what to say next. “The costume was Travis’ idea.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, looking him over in his cowgirl attire. “Well, that answers at least one question.”
“And what question would that be,” Wes asked, terror rising inside him.
“Oh, just the general question the girls and I had about whether the stud here swung both ways or not.”
“Why the hell would you two even discuss something like that?” He smoothed the fringe dangling from his vest in an effort to calm his nerves.
“Because we see how he looks at you, even if you don’t. And seeing as he picked out something so…,” she flicked the fringe hanging from his vest with a finger, “skimpy for you, I think it’s obvious he wants to get you into bed.”
“Oh you know that much is true,” Rozelle said, coming to join the party at the curb. She was dressed in form fitting leather pants and an equally fitted leather halter top. A leather and faux bone necklace hung around her neck, a matching bracelet on one wrist. “They’re real, you know,” she said, smirking.
“What?” Wes snapped back to attention, confused.
“You were staring,” she teased.
“I was? Sorry,” he apologized, mortified that he’d stared in the first place. “Trying to figure out what you’re dressed as.”
“A she-demon,” Clyde said from somewhere behind her. “Not much of a stretch, if you ask me.”
Rozelle glared over her shoulder at her husband. “No one asked you.” Shaking her head, she turned back to Wes, noticing for the first time that he was, indeed, dressed as a cowgirl. “This is interesting.”
“This is Travis’ handiwork,” Dakota hinted.
“Is it now?” She gave Wes a lingering, appraising look. “You owe me ten bucks, Dakota.”
She sighed, still smiling. “I know, but I was thinking maybe we could go double or nothing on the other half?”
Wes watched the girls stare at each other for a moment, the silent communication palpable. Travis didn’t seem to notice what was happening in front of them, but that was probably because his hand had found its way up the back of his skirt. As subtly as possible, he reached behind him and moved the encroaching hand.
“Man, you’re no fun,” he whispered so the girls wouldn’t hear.
“To quote you from earlier, ‘there’s plenty of time’.” Wes gave him a sarcastic grin and strode off to find someone a little more reasonable.
“So you did shave your legs,” Mr. Dumont said by way of greeting. “I can’t get my face half as smooth as you got your legs.”
“You didn’t, you know, wax, or something, did you?” Peter wore a horrified expression, as if the mere thought of it would decrease his manhood by ten percent.
“No, I did not wax, Peter.” He could feel a headache building just behind his eyes and was seriously reconsidering whether a lecture from Dr. Ryan would be worth it on Tuesday morning or not. “I simply used women’s shaving cream on them.”
“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense,” he agreed.
It was a wonder he and Dakota were even in therapy, the boy didn’t ever seem to have an original thought of his own, how could there be trouble in paradise? He looked over his shoulder, scouting the best route the hell out of this place when he caught Travis’ gaze. The look of utter desire etched not just on his face, but oozing from every pore of his body, caught Wes off guard. That he could provoke that level of intensity out of a man who could have any partner he desired – male or female – made his heart skip a beat. He had to look away or take the risk that everything they’d tried to keep to themselves would be exposed to the world.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Taking it out, he glanced at the text message from Travis.
Give the party half an hour. Then we can go home. Mine or yours, it doesn’t matter which.
He couldn’t stop the amused chuckle that bubbled up while reading that. With a smirk, he replied.
Just so long as you can get up my skirt, right?
“Somebody’s got their happy face on,” Dakota sang as she approached the group.
“What? Oh, yeah, got a text from the captain. Good news regarding our last bust.” He was a terrible liar, and he knew it. But maybe Dakota was distracted enough that she didn’t notice.
“Is that so? He must’ve texted Travis too, because he was just putting his phone away when I passed him.”
Damn woman. “Must have. And if you’ll excuse me,” he said, attempting to break free of the crowd of men dressed like men, “Travis is supposed to be my date tonight and dates generally stick together at parties.”
“Do you think,” he heard Dakota ask the therapy men as he walked away, “that he knows he’s not fooling anyone?”
“You got me,” Mr. Dumont said. “But would it hurt to let him think he’s keeping it all on the down low?”
“Please,” Clyde said, the head shake clear in his tone. “Don’t ever say ‘on the down low’ again.”
Wes couldn’t decide what Dakota had meant, however. Did they know that he and Travis were a couple? Because if they had figured that much out, he wouldn’t be surprised. Dakota had been rooting for them as a couple since day one. But what if they’d figured out he wasn’t a stranger to dressing in drag? That wasn’t something he could live with. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he steadied his nerves and turned around, heading right back for the group.
“Wes, weren’t you going to find Travis?” Mr. Dumont gave him a questioning look.
“I was,” he said, rubbing his index finger along the point of his chin, “until I heard what Dakota asked you as I was leaving.”
He could have sworn her face paled upon hearing his works, but he couldn’t be sure in the darkening evening. “Oh?”
“Yeah, and I’m just curious what it is you think you’ve all figured out.” He looked from Dakota, to Peter, to the Dumonts, to Clyde, waiting.
“Isn’t it obvious,” Rozelle spoke from behind him.
Turning halfway so he could see her face, he lifted an eyebrow. “Apparently not, so please do inform me, so I can give Travis proper information in a few minutes when I actually do go and find him.”
She made her way into the group and stood beside her husband. “Well, since you asked, it’s obvious that there’s more than a partnership between you and that hunk of a man over there.” She angled her chin in the direction of said man.
“The women just can’t figure out if you’re sleeping together or not yet,” Clyde added in.
Fear filled Wes’ insides. How the hell had the girls figured it out? On second thought, he figured the change in direction that Travis’ teasing had taken since their trip to Vegas had been the determining factor. Even so…
“So, what are we talking about,” Travis asked, joining the group.
“Oh, nothing,” Wes hedged, praying he could flee the scene before any more was said.
“Right. Nothing much,” Rozelle added.
“Except your budding romance with your partner,” Dakota finished for them all.
Without missing a beat, Travis fell right into step with the conversation, playing it off as if he hadn’t been surprised at all. “Aw baby, they found us out,” he whined, curling an arm around Wes’ waist, resting his hand on a butt cheek.
Travis gave his ass a quick little squeeze that he took to mean ‘play along’. “Yeah, they sure did,” he agreed, trying not to jump from the intimate touch. “I guess we weren’t as stealthy as we thought we were.”
“Naw, you wear your heart on your sleeve,” Travis said. “Well, when you’re wearing sleeves anyway.”
Before Wes could respond, Travis captured his mouth in an unexpected kiss. The stunned gasps from the men were quickly drowned out by the shrieking glee of the women – and the excited pounding of his heart.
They’d stepped quite a bit outside of their combined comfort zones since that first incident. First, by admitting to his fascination with cross dressing. Then the sex. The blessed, amazing sex. He thought he’d crossed every line imaginable when he let Travis stay the night, and then Vegas had happened. They’d taken a vacation of sorts together and even had gone on a date in public.
Now, Travis was kissing him before god and everybody and… he didn’t give a fuck.
Not one single fuck.
And on any given day, he had quite a few fucks to give.
But not right then.
Travis would say that this meant he was learning to let go, to accept himself and their relationship. Wes was more inclined to believe that madness was slowly beginning to take hold. Either way, Travis Marks was kissing him – and grabbing his ass – on Dakota and Peter’s front lawn.
Marks broke the kiss with flourish. Looking at the astounded therapy group, he nodded. “I think it’s time I take my date home, if you know what I mean.”
“Travis!” Wes was scandalized. “Don’t give them any more ideas than the already have.”
“Heh, get it moving, buttercup, we ain’t got all night, you know. The witching hour is fast approaching.”
“It isn’t even close to midnight,” he argued, untangling himself from Travis’ embrace. “Are you afraid I’m going to turn into a pumpkin?”
“No,” Clyde laughed. “He’s afraid you’re going to turn back into a cranky detective.”
“Hush,” Rozelle admonished him. “Let the lovers have a little fun role playing.”
The heat creeping up his neck and into his face burned his skin and seared his soul. He wouldn’t ever be able to look any of them in the eye ever again. “Get me out of here, please,” he begged.
Slipping his hand into Wes’, Travis gave a little tug. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
“Okay,” Wes managed to squeak out.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” Dakota said, following them out to the car.
“Thanks for having us,” Travis returned. “It was actually a lot more fun than I had expected.”
“I agree, but I’m not much for parties in the first place,” Wes admitted.
“And considering the circumstances, I can understand why you weren’t excited to come to this one. But don’t let any of them worry you. Especially the men.” She winked at Wes and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “They don’t get what we have to go through sometimes to snag our man. Have fun you two,” she giggled, walking away.
“What do you think she meant by that last part,” Wes asked, watching her wind her way back to her husband’s side.
“I’m not sure,” Travis said, resting his arm along Wes’ shoulders. “But I think it’s a safe bet that she’s figured out your secret.”
“Oh dear god, please no,” he begged the universe.
“I think it’s also safe to say that your secret is safe with her.”
“Really? Why do you say that?” He leaned into Travis’ side, seeking the warmth of his skin. The cool October breeze had kicked up and had found its way under his too short skirt.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, cuddling Wes closer to him. “Just call it a hunch.”
“You and your gut,” Wes teased, poking his rock hard abs with a fingertip. “Two things that always get me into trouble.”
“Oh really? Should I tell you that my gut is saying we’re not going to make it home tonight?”
“Tell your gut to mind its own damn business. We are going to make it home.” He eyed Travis for a minute before adding, “Before we have sex, even.”
Six miles down the road, Wes found himself bent over the hood of his car, skirt hiked over his hips and his pretty fringed underwear decorating the driver’s seat. He doubted that it was Travis’ gut that had told him they wouldn’t make it home, more than likely it was the thing buried deep inside of him that had been doing all the insisting. He pushed his hips backwards, forcing Travis deeper inside of him, biting back the scream of satisfaction rising within him.
It had only taken one flirtatious comment about sex in the car in Travis’ driveway to convince Marks to pull over into the nearest city park. Wes had begged him to reconsider – they were cops after all and this would violate at least six laws – and before he knew what he was doing, he was simply begging.
“So fucking pretty,” Travis was saying, repeating it over and over in his ear as he pounded him. “My gorgeous little girl, always so willing and horny for her man.”
That was all it took. Travis’ filthy mouth coupled with his thick, eager cock, and he was throwing caution to the wind and his dignity to the ground. His fingers tightened on the hood, sweaty handprints smudging the once perfect wax job. With a muffled shout, Wes exploded in the darkness, his come shooting across the hood. Travis followed swiftly behind him, leaning hard into Wes’ thinner frame.
“You’re heavy, Travis,” he grunted when his lover relaxed his weight onto his back.
“And I think you need to get your poor baby washed again.”
Wes counted to five before responding. “Nope, I think you need to get her washed again. Detailed, too.”
Travis chuckled huskily. “Deal, but only if you let me dirty her inside as well as out.”
“No dice, but… well, maybe we can work out some other exchange back at your place.”
“Now that’s definitely a deal worth making,” Travis agreed, pulling out and slapping Wes’ exposed ass.
They held hands as they approached the community center Tuesday morning. “You sure you’re okay with this,” Travis asked one last time.
“No, but it’s not like they don’t already know, right? Might as well bite the bullet.”
“Good point,” Travis said, holding the door open so he could enter.
“And here’s the happy couple,” Mr. Dumont greeted them.
Wes forced a smile, but Travis went over and sat in the vacant chair between Mr. Dumont and Peter. The three struck up an instant conversation and Wes sat in his usual place, alone. Rozelle and Dakota hovered around Dr. Ryan, their cell phones in hand. Dr. Ryan’s eyes were wide, but she was smiling, so whatever they were showing her couldn’t be – wait.
“Ladies,” Wes said into the noisy room, “just what are you showing Dr. Ryan over there?”
“Wes,” Dakota grinned, outing herself as being involved in some kind of mischief. “It’s confidential.”
“It wasn’t all that confidential on Friday night,” Rozelle snarked. “Matter of fact, half of it was hanging out.”
“Sounds like they’re talking about your derriere if you ask me,” Mr. Dumont chuckled.
Wes hid his face in his hand, muttering, “I’m terrified that you’re absolutely correct.”
Out of deference for Wes’ utter humiliation, Dr. Ryan mercifully started the session. “Sorry about that folks, but the girls were providing me with proof of your promise,” she said to Wes and Travis.
“And that’s not all, I have no doubt,” he groaned, praying that this session would not entirely revolve around the relationship he and Travis had been hiding.
“No, not quite all,” she agreed. “They were also showing me pictures of the other guests, a few of the guests’ pets and…”
“And your kiss in front of us,” Dakota chimed in.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say, Dakota, but yes, they showed me that, too.” Dr. Ryan looked around the room before settling back on the boys. “It seems to have been a rather passionate embrace for two men pretending to be on a date.”
“You could tell that from a picture, Dr. Ryan?” Travis sounded impressed.
Dr. Ryan took her time responding. “Well, not exactly. It seems that someone –”
“It was Rozelle,” Peter chimed in. “She took video.”
“Oh for the love of all that’s holy,” Wes moaned.
“Really,” Travis asked. “Can I see it?”
“Travis, after the session is over, if you don’t mind,” Dr. Ryan scolded him.
“Okay,” he pouted, leaning back into his chair, but not before making eye contact with Rozelle first.
“Now, it seems like you two have been keeping something from us…”
Travis readjusted his position in the chair so that he could whisper to Wes without being caught out. The sound of his voice caused Dr. Ryan’s lecture to fade into background noise, allowing him to focus on something much more pleasant, although no less aggravating.
“I can’t believe she took video,” he whispered.
Wes gave a sad half-smile. “I can’t say it surprises me, really. She’s an odd one.”
“But it gives me an idea. Do you think –”
“No,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t you even dare ask.”
“Okay, but you can’t blame a boy for trying, can you?”
Wes glanced back at Dr. Ryan and found her attention firmly on the Dumonts. “No, I can’t blame you for trying, but don’t you ever suggest it again.”
“Not even Friday night, when you’re drunk, horny and willing to do anything for an orgasm?” Travis wiggled his eyebrows, mocking him.
“Not even then. I’ll do a lot of embarrassing, even degrading things, for a piece of your cock, but I will not allow you to make any kind of permanent record of exactly what I’ve done.” He crossed one leg over the other and rested against the back of his chair.
It wasn’t a lie, he had done damn near everything Travis had ever suggested. This, however, was a no fly zone for a million reasons. He didn’t figure Travis would push it any farther, but he might push it a little the next time they were alone. And he could live with that. What was Travis if he wasn’t pushing his boundaries while pushing Wes’ buttons?
“So, if you won’t let me bring the video camera,” he began, head tilted towards Wes’, “then will you at least put that cowgirl outfit on for me again?”
His dick got stiff simply from hearing the words. But he had learned not to ever appear too eager when it came to any of Travis’ suggestions. “I think we can negotiate that later.”
“Over dinner?”
“Over dessert.”
Dr. Ryan droned on about acceptance and differences and how each couple had their own hurdles to overcome. She reiterated many of the same things she brought up every session and added a few new ones into the mix. He listened with only half an ear, wondering what she was going to add to their case file later that night. What she’d tell the captain and wondering if she’d ever mention the kiss.
It didn’t matter, or so he told himself in an effort to reduce some of his anxiety. She would do and say what she thought was best and if that meant she told Sutton about his relationship with Travis, then so be it. He wouldn’t be surprised if their captain already had his suspicions.
Travis was watching Peter and Dakota as Dr. Ryan addressed their particular issue. Dakota twisted the band on her left finger, smiling that joyful grin that was solely hers. He felt himself instinctively reach for his left ring finger, stopping only when he realized there wasn’t a band there any longer, that there never would be again.
He dropped his hands into his lap, frustrated and ashamed for even thinking about it. Unsolicited, Travis grasped his left hand in his right, drawing his attention away from what he had lost and reminding him of what he was working towards.
Who said he needed a ring on his finger anyway? Travis might buy him a ring pop, but that’s as far as that would go. Maybe he could up the ante to a candy necklace, too? The stupidity of his line of thought made him giggle, exposing his inattention to the entire group.
“Wes? Is there something you’d like to share with the group?” Dr. Ryan’s face was both stern and curious, an odd mix on such a pretty woman.
“No, Dr. Ryan, not at all. I was just suddenly craving a ring pop.” Realizing how his words sounded, he hastened to add, “And I actually mean a ring pop, Travis.”
“Damn,” he complained. “There’s a 7-11 on the way back to the station. You wanna stop?”
Wes grinned. “Yeah, I think I would.”
“Well then, I guess that means you’re dismissed.”
Travis stood and helped Wes to his feet. Shoulder checking him to get his attention, he asked, “So, what’s with the ring pop?”
“Nothing, just felt the desire to suck on something sweet.”
He lost his partner after ‘something’, he figured. Stopping, Wes turned to find Travis standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “You okay over there?”
“Uhm, yeah,” he said, pulling it together long enough to catch up with Wes. “What exactly did you have in mind for ‘sweet’?”
He cocked his head to the side, devious grin on his lips. “I guess you’ll find out around lunchtime, won’t you?”
Quickly checking his watch, Travis frowned. “Man, that’s like three hours from now. No fair!”
Wes kept walking. “Anticipation is the best sweetener.”
“Motherfucker,” Travis growled. “It’s going to be one long ass day.”
But Wes would be sure to make it worth his while. Teasing him like this always worked to both their benefit and he was pretty sure he’d figured out the key to keeping Travis on his toes. Either way, he’d find out at lunch. Three goddamn hours from now.
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks/Wes Mitchell
Rating: a mild R
Word Count: 9,031
Author’s Note: I have a friend who loves sending me outfits for Wesleigh to wear and she was wondering when the cowgirl would make an appearance. Wait no longer… (costume here)
“You have anything going on for Halloween this year?” Travis had perched himself on the edge of his partner’s desk and was looking down at him.
“No,” Wes said, slowly, trying to decide if this question was a trap or an invitation. “Why would I have plans for Halloween? I don’t have any kids and I live in a hotel.”
“Good point,” Travis agreed, resituating himself on the desktop.
Wes pulled a file out from under his partner’s very fine ass and glared. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but why are you interested?”
Travis shrugged, looking off towards the captain’s office. “The girls in therapy cornered me yesterday when you stepped out to take that call.”
“And?” He wasn’t in any mood to play Travis’ games. They’d had a late night – both at work and afterwards – and he didn’t do well without a good night’s sleep.
“And nothing.” He opened a file near his thigh and flipped through it. “But I thought you might like to go.”
“Don’t we spend enough time with those wing wangs? Do you really want to go to a party most likely hosted by Peter and Dakota?”
He made a face and shook his head. “How’d you know Peter and Dakota were hosting?”
Wes gave him a ‘please don’t be stupid look’. “Because Dakota is just that kind of woman. Not that that’s a bad thing, because she’s a good woman, but she’s annoying in her perkiness.”
“Okay, so another good point,” Travis agreed. “Is that a no then?”
He met his partner’s questioning gaze, those brilliant blue eyes burning holes into his soul. “Are there going to be costumes involved?”
“Well…” Travis drew the word out, making Wes wonder exactly what Dakota and Rozelle had talked him into. “They’re not mandatory but…”
“Then the answer is ‘no’. I am not dressing up for this.” That he’d once put on a maid’s outfit for Travis’ benefit wasn’t lost on him either. Then again, that wasn’t in public and was strictly for their own amusement.
“Not even for me,” Travis asked, batting his eyelashes playfully.
Wes leaned closer to his partner. “Will you not do that here,” he begged. “And no I will not dress up for some foolish party.”
“You’re such a spoilsport,” he teased. “And I even told Dakota you had an outfit planned.”
Panic filled his chest at the thought of Travis telling anyone something like that. “Did you tell her what kind of outfit,” he asked, stiffly. Praying to the gods above that he hadn’t told the therapy girls that he was planning to come as a go-go dancer or something equally as embarrassing.
“Naw, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He smiled and gave his head a slow shake. “I left it up to their imaginations, although I’d hope you’d come as a cowgirl.”
“Travis,” Wes spat, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention. “Not. Here.”
“Whatever, Wes. It was just a thought.” He slid off the edge of the blond’s desk and looked towards the break room. “I’m going to go get some coffee.”
Taking slow, deep breaths, he tried to steady his rapidly beating heart. Travis stalked across the squad room floor in search of caffeine, leaving him to his thoughts. They’d made such huge progress while they were in Vegas a month ago and now Travis was right back where they started and he couldn’t figure it out. With a sigh, he pushed to his feet and went in search of his partner.
“Travis,” he said, touching his shoulder lightly.
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Please stop acting like a child. You know why I said what I said.” Wes leaned his rear against the countertop, arms crossed against his chest.
“Yeah, because it turns you on,” Travis chuckled, pouring himself a cup of stale stationhouse coffee.
“Not true,” he defended. Marks turned an accusing look on him. “Okay, so not entirely true. But you know we have a reputation to protect and I’d lose all credibility if anyone ever got wind of this.”
With a roll of his eyes, Travis nodded. “Okay, you’re right about that and I’m sorry, but no one was near enough to hear. Even if they did, they’d have no idea what we were talking about.”
“For the record? You make me insane,” Wes stated.
“But it’s why you love me,” he reminded him.
He wasn’t willing to admit to that quite yet. “Can I interest you in an alternate celebration maybe?”
Curiosity flickered on Travis’ face even as he hesitated to take the bait. “I’ll tell you after I hear it.”
Wes sighed and looked around the empty break room. “A friend of mine – and Alex’s actually – recently split from his wife and –”
“And apparently, being a lawyer isn’t good for your marriage,” Travis interjected.
With a scathing look, Wes continued. “He still works for the firm so we’d have to keep this quiet, but he’s trying to sell his place at Lake Arrowhead. He’s been calling me for the last two months to go up and stay the weekend.”
“Wesley Mitchell, are you proposing we go away for Halloween?” Travis looked scandalized at the idea, but he knew his partner was anything but offended by the offer.
“Why not? Didn’t we just spend several days together in Vegas?” Wes shook his head in confusion. “Besides, what would you have us do?”
“Go trick-or-treating?”
“Not on your damn life, Marks,” Wes hissed through clenched teeth. “And no parties with those insane, match-making therapy women either!”
“You have no sense of adventure,” Travis scoffed, taking a drink of his coffee and making a face.
“Discussing your weekend, are we boys?” Detective Kate Cafferty strode into the break room and reached for a mug from the shelf over Travis’ head.
“No we were not discussing our weekend, Kate.” Wes gave Travis a meaningful look before turning on his heel and walking away.
“He can be so sensitive,” he heard Marks tell Kate. “Wes man, wait up. I have an idea about the case we’re working.”
Despite his better judgment, Wes slowed and allowed Travis to catch up. “Talk and walk, I know that coffee you’re carrying is disgusting.”
“Are you going to buy me a fresh cup?” Marks batted his eyelashes as best he could.
His first instinct was to say ‘hell no, buy your own’ but he’d promised he’d try to be nicer in public. So, instead he nodded. “Of course, why wouldn’t I buy my partner a fresh cup of coffee?” He gave Travis a light punch to the shoulder, just to keep things weird.
“You’ve lost your pretty little mind,” Travis observed, “but I’m holding you to that coffee.”
Wes handed over enough money to cover their drinks and a tip and inclined his head towards the side of the building. “Let’s take a walk and discuss this issue we’re having.”
“I don’t see what the problem is though,” Travis said, taking a long drag off his coffee and sighing with relief. “This is a thousand times better than that crap in the station.”
“Exaggerate much,” Wes teased, taking a drink of his own coffee. “You can’t see the problem with dressing me as a go-go dancer –”
“I was thinking cowgirl, man, but if you want thigh highs and a glittery –”
“ – and parade me around people we know? How’d you ever pass the detective’s exam with missing something so obvious?”
“Look, I get why you wouldn’t want to dress up – as anything – around the guys we work with, but outside of work? It’s Halloween, man. Dressing up is the point of it all.”
“No, the point of Halloween is to look like the spirits supposedly invading our world so they don’t come after us. That’s where the tradition started.” He spotted a bench and made his way over to it, sitting heavily onto the wooden slats.
“I should have known you’d know the true origin of the holiday,” Travis grinned, dropping onto the bench beside him. “But my point still remains. Those girls will squeal and obsess over how your shoes match your dress and your dress matches your lipstick and I doubt anyone outside of Mrs. Dumont will find it odd you’re wearing women’s clothes. And she gets a pass because she’s older than the rest of us.”
Although he refused to acknowledge it, Travis had a small point. But… “So, does that mean you’ll be my sidekick and dress as a cowgirl, too?” He hadn’t actually meant it, but he couldn’t resist saying it either, and the look of terror on Travis’ face was priceless. “What’s the matter, Marks? Afraid of a pair of heels?”
“Only when they’re on your feet, baby,” he admitted. “I had pictured myself as the villain of the story –”
“Which is a better fit than you might guess,” Wes added, garnering a glare from Travis.
“Or even your cowboy boyfriend.”
“Not my horse,” he asked, half ashamed at himself for suggesting something so rude, and more than half pleased at his ability to vocalize an idea that evocative.
Travis’ nostrils flared slightly, eyes widening. “Now there’s an idea, baby. But if you even think about riding this stud before the party, we’ll never make it out of the barn.”
“Leave it to you to take a horse metaphor that far,” he laughed. “Can’t we find a happy medium here somewhere?”
“We don’t have to go to Dakota and Peter’s party, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He frowned at the disappointment he heard in his partner’s voice. Going by the discussions they would have after leaving therapy most days, you’d think Travis couldn’t stand any of them, outside of Dr. Ryan. But it seemed as if Wes had misjudged them all because it was apparent Travis had bonded with them.
Or, the women at least.
“Is this really that important to you?” This conversation was getting more bizarre by the second. “I have no problem going to the party,” he said, which wasn’t completely true, but he’d do it if it meant erasing that look from Marks’ face. “I just won’t do it in drag.”
“I can respect that,” he said, reaching for Wes’ hand and hesitating.
Wes turned his hand so it faced palm up, a gentle hint that it was okay. The warmth that enveloped him at the touch of Travis’ fingers on his skin was nearly his undoing. He’d agree to anything just so long as he didn’t let go. “But?”
“But nothing.” Travis shrugged, noncommittal. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d have a problem going out in a Halloween costume is all. Especially after Vegas.”
Because they had gone on an actual date in Vegas. Travis’ obliviousness made sense for once. “That was different because we were expanding our boundaries in Vegas. And no one knew us there.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think about that,” he confessed. “Should I apologize now?”
“Hell no,” Wes grinned. “You’re making progress, you know. By thinking about things and asking before you do something stupid.”
“Except assuming that you’d be willing to go to a party in drag simply because everyone else will be in costume, too?”
“Nope, that doesn’t count.” As he thought about it, he realized that it really didn’t either. Travis was so comfortable with both of his personas that it didn’t even occur to him that he might not be comfortable with one or the other in a situation. That spoke volumes for Travis’ ability to adapt and accept what was put before him.
“Why not?” His question was genuine, the curiosity bright in his eyes.
“Because it means you like me. All of me, even the parts I’m not always sure I want to admit to having.”
“Like the falsies?” Travis gave his chest area a lewd glance.
“No, not those, you jerk,” he said, poking him in the ribs for good measure. “But you know what I mean, judging by that smartass comment.”
“Of course I know what you mean, Wesleigh,” he whispered, leaning in so that his words brushed Wes’ ear.
“And if you call me that at work one more time,” he threatened in a voice no one but Travis could hear, “I’ll show you just how scary a pair of heels can be. Got it?”
“I love you when you’re feisty,” he replied, grin splitting his face.
Wes sighed. “And sometimes, like right now, I wonder why I ever let you into my life.” Despite the continual frustration, he didn’t regret it one bit. Although, he’d never let Travis know that. “Again, is there no middle ground here?”
Travis rubbed his chin with a finger for a moment before an idea came to him. “How about we go to the party and dress up later?”
“You mean, go as our usual selves for the party and then I dress up for you when we get back well, wherever we end up that night?”
“Exactly,” he said, pointing a finger at Wes. “You read my mind.”
He’d really like to let him read his boot once he put it up his rear, but they had a job to do and with no other reason to delay, he declared the coffee break over. “Come on, let’s get back to work.”
“Does that mean we’re a go?” The expression on his face was too hopeful to crush.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, simply, evading a direct answer.
“Over dinner, I hope,” Travis hinted before swallowing the last of his coffee in one long gulp.
“You are not only difficult, but also a bottomless pit,” he grumbled, standing and leaving his partner sitting on the bench behind him.
Halloween was only a handful of days away and Wes still hadn’t confirmed that he’d be willing to go along with Travis’ plan. Half of it was that he really didn’t want to go hang out with their therapy group on a Friday night. But most of it was because Travis automatically assumed he would be willing to dress up, only to get undressed again, when Marks didn’t have to do a damn thing. He was going to have to come to a decision quickly, however, since the morning’s therapy session was due to begin in half an hour. Last week, Dakota had ambushed him on his way into the community center, eager as ever to know if they’d be attending her soiree or not.
“You’re early,” Dr. Ryan announced when he walked into the room twenty minutes later. “And without Travis, too. Is everything okay?”
“Yep, everything’s fine,” he lied, praying she wouldn’t pick up on his deceit.
“I see. You want to elaborate on that fabrication?” Her smile cut some of the harshness from her words.
“No, not particularly,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“So, everything’s not fine but…?”
“But we’re okay, he and I,” he finished for her.
“Are you sure about that?”
Her tone implied that she was only making sure, double checking in case he wanted to vent. But it also made him stop and rethink his position on this. Were they really okay? Travis had stopped by over the weekend and spent the night, but it had been only that one night. Not that they had gotten to the point of shacking up together seven days a week, not even close, but Marks had taken to coming over out of the blue two or three times a week. Right up to the point where he’d refused to make a decision on this damn party.
So, he went with as much of the truth as he could muster. “Yeah, I think we’re more good than we’re bad right now.”
“That’s good to hear,” she responded, warmth filling her words. “No couple is ever completely good or bad, respectively.”
“What couple are we talking about,” Travis asked, entering the room a good five minutes ahead of his usual time.
“Why, you and Wes, of course,” Dr. Ryan chirped.
Travis gave him a long, lingering look. “What did you tell her, baby?”
Flushing, Wes glared at him. “She meant in the professional fashion, you jerk.”
“Oh,” Travis laughed, guiltily. “That.”
“Is there another way I should be looking at the two of you,” Dr. Ryan asked, sneaking it in during the heavy silence.
“No,” Travis and Wes said, nearly at the same moment, neither one quite convincing enough to fool Dr. Ryan.
“Well, okay then,” she agreed, the disbelief clear on her face. “I guess I’ll have to believe you for now.”
“Wes!”
He looked up and saw Dakota coming towards him at the speed of light. “I need to know right this minute if you and Travis are coming or not. I need to buy food and I’d hate to run out.” She gave Travis a pointed look after the last statement.
“You never want to run out of food when Travis is involved,” he agreed. But what did he tell her? That eager look had returned to his partner’s face, the one that just begged him to say ‘yes’. Against his better judgment, he gave in. “Yes, of course, we’ll be there.”
Travis’ surprised response of ‘we will’ was more than drowned out by Dakota’s shriek of pure happiness. Throwing her arms around Wes’ neck, she hugged him close, gave a squeeze, and let him go. “Okay, seven o’clock sharp. Don’t be late!”
“We won’t,” he assured her, wondering what kind of fresh hell he’d just set himself up for.
“And don’t forget your costumes,” she reminded him.
“There will be no costumes, Dakota,” Wes said, more gently than he had thought himself capable of. “It was my one stipulation to this bozo over here. Can we still attend?”
She pouted for a moment before nodding. “Of course you can. It won’t be nearly as much fun, but we won’t turn you away either.”
Dr. Ryan smiled out amongst her small group, making note that everyone had finally arrived. “Now that that’s settled, can we get started?” A mixed chorus of ‘sure’ and other positive responses filled the room. And so they began.
“Anything on your minds that you’d like to discuss before the session is over?” Dr. Ryan looked out around the group, checking faces as she went. Clyde and Rozelle both shook their heads no. Same for the Dumonts. Her eyes landed on Peter and Dakota, garnering a sheepish smile from the latter.
“Just stressing about my Halloween party, Dr. Ryan. Nothing to discuss there,” she said.
“True,” Dr. Ryan agreed. “That is a normal worry to have. Wes and Travis? How about the two of you?”
Wes’ gut clenched, worried that she was going to go back to her earlier question regarding the changing status of their partnership. “No ma’am,” he assured her.
“Actually,” Travis cut in, slicing a look in Wes’ direction, “I do have one issue.”
“Oh for the love of God, Travis. No,” Wes begged.
“Travis,” Dr. Ryan encouraged, “what’s on your mind?”
“Well,” he began, leaning forward, placing his hands on his thighs, “Dakota requested we wear costumes to her party and –”
“And is this really something you need to drag out here?”
Travis ignored him. “Wes refuses to wear a costume. I even picked out something perfect.”
“Perfect,” Wes spluttered. “You want me to wear a skirt!”
“Now this is interesting,” Rozelle grinned, elbowing her husband in the side.
“I know, right,” Dakota added in. “Wes, you can absolutely come dressed in a skirt if you want.”
He tore his eyes off Travis and focused them on her. “What?”
Dakota shrugged. “It’s Halloween, who cares? You’re supposed to be hiding from the spirits roaming the earth and what better way to confuse them than by dressing as a woman?”
Wes blinked, dumbfounded. It was obvious he did not give this woman nearly enough credit. “I – I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Are you going to shave your legs,” Mr. Dumont asked, a look that was three-quarters horror, one-quarter curiosity plastered on his face.
“I hadn’t thought about it but…”
“Wes,” Dr. Ryan said, drawing everyone’s attention back to her. “Travis? Is this true? You wanted him to dress as a woman?”
Embarrassed, Travis shrugged. “It’s true that I asked but –”
“Why?” This time it was Clyde interrupting.
“Good question,” Dr. Ryan agreed. “Why a dress, Travis?”
“Okay, so not so much a dress as a cowgirl outfit,” he confessed.
“Are you going to be his cowboy counterpart,” Dakota asked, glee pouring out of every cell of her body at the possibilities.
“Can we please focus for a moment? You can ask Wes and Travis all the questions you want as soon as the session is over.” Dr. Ryan turned her gaze back on Travis. “Is there a meaning behind the cowgirl outfit, Travis, or did you have another motive?”
Aside from the nine hundred jokes he figured he would have to suffer through, all regarding riding or being ridden, Wes felt as clueless as Dr. Ryan. He was terrified of what Travis might actually give as a valid reason, even though he was certain he’d never divulge the actual reason behind his choice.
Giving a one-shoulder shrug, Travis looked around the room. “I thought it’d be a good way to get blondie here to loosen up a bit.”
“Interesting,” Dr. Ryan said, watching Travis closely. “And also a good idea. I think –”
“What?” Wes shot to his feet, horrified.
“Wes, sit and hear me out.” She made a lowering motion with her hand, encouraging him to park his rear. “I think it would be an excellent trust exercise for you to attend the party in the costume Travis has picked out for you. You’re among friends, and none of them will judge you.”
“We might snap a few pictures behind your back though,” Rozelle muttered to Dakota, earning the look of death from Wes.
“And what about Travis? Why am I being tortured while he gets to sit around and gloat?”
“He’ll have his own trust exercise,” she said. “His task will be to escort you and be your date. Now,” she lifted a hand to stop any incoming questions or exclamations before they started, “I know you’re not a couple, not in the sense that the rest of the group is, but for one night, you will be.”
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” Dakota squealed, rubbing her hands together in excitement, a grin matching her enthusiasm solidly planted on her husband’s face.
“I think we can live with that for one night,” Travis stated, squeezing Wes’ knee playfully.
“You are so not getting any,” Wes muttered, barely loud enough for Travis to hear.
“What was that honey?” Travis cupped a hand behind his ear, waiting.
“Nothing,” he replied in a more normal tone of voice. “Are we done yet?”
Dr. Ryan glanced at the clock. “Yes, I think we are.”
“Do you think Dr. Ryan suspects something?” Travis was drawing patterns in his ketchup with a fry.
Wes had been wondering the same thing all morning. “Honestly,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “I think she’s suspected something since day one, long before there was ever anything to suspect.”
“Huh, interesting,” he said, shoving the fry into his mouth. “Are you really okay with doing this then?”
He shook his head. “Not really, if you want the truth.”
“But?” He waved another stick of fried potato in the air.
“But, the therapy girls,” Wes started, rubbing his fingers across his mouth while he considered how to phrase his thoughts. “They were rather… open… to the idea, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, they were,” Travis cackled. “And I think you might have gotten Peter all hot and bothered in the process.”
“Will you stop with that? I did no such thing,” he complained.
“I beg to differ,” Travis countered. “But what Dakota said was rather insightful, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” Wes said, shrugging. “Are you about done yet? We have work to do this afternoon.”
Friday came faster than he had anticipated and it left him feeling off kilter. Travis had stopped by the night before with his costume and stayed for dinner, which became dessert, and eventually rolled over into breakfast. He’d barely managed to get Marks out of his hotel room with enough time to grab a quick shower and get to the station on time.
Travis, on the other hand, was late. As usual.
It was nearly quarter after by the time he arrived. “It’s about damn time,” Wes scolded. “You start your trick-or-treating already?”
A sly, unreliable grin lit his face. “Nope, I went shopping.”
That was not a good thing. “What precisely did you go shopping for, Travis?”
He tossed a bag onto the desk between them. “Look for yourself,” he said. “Oh, but you might not want to pull it all the way out of the bag in here.”
Cautiously, he looked into the bad and found a navy colored scrap of lace. Moving the item around, it took him a moment to figure out exactly what it was. “You bought me underwear?” He wasn’t all that surprised by that because, in itself, wasn’t all that unusual. Travis had bought him more than a few undergarments since their little tryst had begun earlier that year. What shocked him is that he’d brought them into the station and given them to him.
“Yeah,” he said, pointing to the bag. “They have a faux leather trim and fringe that hangs from the waistband. Cute as fuck and I can’t wait to see them…”
“Travis,” he warned.
“…on the floor later.”
Wes shut his mouth with a snap, because how could he argue with that? He stuffed the bag into his top desk drawer and glowered at his partner. “You really walk the line sometimes, you know that?”
“Yup, I practice my high wire act when you’re not looking.” With a wink, he grabbed the case file off of Wes’ desk and sat in his own char, looking it over.
“Oh so now you want to work,” Wes grumbled, tapping his pen against the edge of the desk. “Figures.”
Dakota’s party was in an hour, making Wes’ stomach roll with anxiety. Travis said he’d be by at quarter till to pick him up, and that made him even more nervous. That he was attending a Halloween party in drag was enough to give anyone a case of the worries. Knowing that he and Travis were tapped to play the night out as the couple they were desperately trying to become completely freaked him out.
He poked at the costume Marks had brought him and sighed. It was currently hanging in the bathroom after having been ironed into shape. It was comprised of a denim vest, faux denim bra, and a shorter than hell denim skirt. Both the vest and skirt were trimmed in leather fringe, much like the underwear Travis had given him earlier that morning. He had to admit though, after he’d gotten them out of the package and took a good look at them, they truly were adorable. High cut and form fitting, they’d even make his boyish ass look good.
His phone started singing a song he didn’t recognize and realized it was the alarm he’d set earlier that day. Figuring he’d put off getting dressed for as long as possible, the kick in the rear from the alarm got him into gear. He looked longingly in the direction of his kitchen, pining for that bottle of Scotch hidden in his tiny pantry. Steeling his nerve, he entered the bathroom and decided that it was now or never.
The bra top wasn’t nearly as fitted as he would have liked, and he longed for his set of falsies to fill himself out. That, however, wasn’t even possible as he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone wondering why he just happened to have a set on hand. So, he slipped it on and fastened it, frowning at the flatness of his natural chest.
Travis’ choice in undergarments, however, really lifted his spirits. They fit just as well as he thought they might, and the swaying of the fringe coerced a smile out of him, despite his feelings about the evening ahead. Turning to look at his rear in the mirror, he found his mood bolstered and hurried into the rest of the costume. The denim vest slid on easily, as did the skirt – he had no real hips after all and was thankful for the wide, brown leather belt that had been tossed in with it. Topping off the outfit were a pair of knee-high worn leather boots and a beat up old cowboy hat that had to have been Travis’ in a previous life. The finishing touch was a wide leather wristlet with a western design stitched into it.
He was still admiring himself in the mirror when Travis knocked at the door. “Coming,” he hollered, fixing his bangs one last time before turning off the light.
“Well look at you,” Travis crowed, stepping inside. “I think I’ve finally picked up the knack for dressing you properly.”
Wes couldn’t help but preen at the compliment, even if it was mostly directed at Travis. “Uh, thanks.”
Travis ran his fingers through the fringe dangling from the vest. “No makeup tonight though, huh? Shame.”
He made a face. “Didn’t know you missed it so much,” Wes admitted. “I didn’t want to go too overboard –”
“Say no more, I totally get it,” Travis assured him. “But I love how the mascara makes your big blue eyes pop right off your face, baby.”
Wes blinked. “You really think so?” In all honestly, he hadn’t thought Travis paid that much attention to what he did or why.
“Definitely,” he agreed. “But we can’t have the girls suspecting anything, at least, not yet.”
“What do you mean by ‘not yet’?”
Travis shrugged. “Well, the minute they see you in this outfit, they’re all going to know it’s not your first time.”
He hadn’t considered that. “Should I be more awkward?”
“No, I don’t think the world could handle a more awkward Wes Mitchell,” Travis teased.
“Look, Cowboy,” he said, having finally noticed the worn jeans, beat up boots, and cowboy hat Travis was sporting, “you can shut the hell up any time now, understand?”
“Understood,” he grinned. “Can’t be upsettin’ the little lady now, can we?”
“Ah, shut the fuck up, Marks, or this date is off.”
“As you wish, Buttercup.” He threw Wes a flirty wink and rested his hand on the front door. “We ready?”
“Not really,” Wes confessed, “but we had better leave or we’ll be late.”
“And god forbid we’re late to Dakota’s party,” Travis drawled.
Travis parked Wes’ car neatly at the curb. Turning to his partner, he gave him a stern look. “Do not even think about touching that door handle. I’ll get it for you.”
“Why gee, you’re so kind, Mr. Marks,” he said, watching Travis get out of the driver’s seat. The urge to reach out and press a finger against the handle was almost overwhelming, but he restrained himself. Even with all the anxiety surrounding his situation, he truly wanted everything to go as perfectly as possible. The door opened beside him and he looked up, eyes landing on Travis’ smiling face.
“We’ve arrived,” he said. “It’s too late to back out now.” He offered his hand and helped Wes out of the car.
“Now that’s a real shame. I was hoping I could convince you to take me back home.” He gave a flutter of his eyelashes on the off chance it might sway Marks’ position.
“All in due time,” he stated. “I’ve got all weekend to get you home with me.”
“Travis? Is that you and – oh!” Dakota’s slim frame appeared out of the shadows, brilliant smile leading the way.
“Yeah, it’s us,” Travis said, leaning in to give her a quick hug. “You look amazing.”
She twirled, sending the hem of her 1920’s-era flapper dress swaying. “You think so?”
“I do,” Travis agreed. “Please tell me Peter’s dressed as Al Capone.”
“Not quite, but he is a gangster,” she said, turning to Wes. “You look amazing, Wes. Seriously.”
“Th-thanks,” he stammered, unsure of what to say next. “The costume was Travis’ idea.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, looking him over in his cowgirl attire. “Well, that answers at least one question.”
“And what question would that be,” Wes asked, terror rising inside him.
“Oh, just the general question the girls and I had about whether the stud here swung both ways or not.”
“Why the hell would you two even discuss something like that?” He smoothed the fringe dangling from his vest in an effort to calm his nerves.
“Because we see how he looks at you, even if you don’t. And seeing as he picked out something so…,” she flicked the fringe hanging from his vest with a finger, “skimpy for you, I think it’s obvious he wants to get you into bed.”
“Oh you know that much is true,” Rozelle said, coming to join the party at the curb. She was dressed in form fitting leather pants and an equally fitted leather halter top. A leather and faux bone necklace hung around her neck, a matching bracelet on one wrist. “They’re real, you know,” she said, smirking.
“What?” Wes snapped back to attention, confused.
“You were staring,” she teased.
“I was? Sorry,” he apologized, mortified that he’d stared in the first place. “Trying to figure out what you’re dressed as.”
“A she-demon,” Clyde said from somewhere behind her. “Not much of a stretch, if you ask me.”
Rozelle glared over her shoulder at her husband. “No one asked you.” Shaking her head, she turned back to Wes, noticing for the first time that he was, indeed, dressed as a cowgirl. “This is interesting.”
“This is Travis’ handiwork,” Dakota hinted.
“Is it now?” She gave Wes a lingering, appraising look. “You owe me ten bucks, Dakota.”
She sighed, still smiling. “I know, but I was thinking maybe we could go double or nothing on the other half?”
Wes watched the girls stare at each other for a moment, the silent communication palpable. Travis didn’t seem to notice what was happening in front of them, but that was probably because his hand had found its way up the back of his skirt. As subtly as possible, he reached behind him and moved the encroaching hand.
“Man, you’re no fun,” he whispered so the girls wouldn’t hear.
“To quote you from earlier, ‘there’s plenty of time’.” Wes gave him a sarcastic grin and strode off to find someone a little more reasonable.
“So you did shave your legs,” Mr. Dumont said by way of greeting. “I can’t get my face half as smooth as you got your legs.”
“You didn’t, you know, wax, or something, did you?” Peter wore a horrified expression, as if the mere thought of it would decrease his manhood by ten percent.
“No, I did not wax, Peter.” He could feel a headache building just behind his eyes and was seriously reconsidering whether a lecture from Dr. Ryan would be worth it on Tuesday morning or not. “I simply used women’s shaving cream on them.”
“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense,” he agreed.
It was a wonder he and Dakota were even in therapy, the boy didn’t ever seem to have an original thought of his own, how could there be trouble in paradise? He looked over his shoulder, scouting the best route the hell out of this place when he caught Travis’ gaze. The look of utter desire etched not just on his face, but oozing from every pore of his body, caught Wes off guard. That he could provoke that level of intensity out of a man who could have any partner he desired – male or female – made his heart skip a beat. He had to look away or take the risk that everything they’d tried to keep to themselves would be exposed to the world.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Taking it out, he glanced at the text message from Travis.
Give the party half an hour. Then we can go home. Mine or yours, it doesn’t matter which.
He couldn’t stop the amused chuckle that bubbled up while reading that. With a smirk, he replied.
Just so long as you can get up my skirt, right?
“Somebody’s got their happy face on,” Dakota sang as she approached the group.
“What? Oh, yeah, got a text from the captain. Good news regarding our last bust.” He was a terrible liar, and he knew it. But maybe Dakota was distracted enough that she didn’t notice.
“Is that so? He must’ve texted Travis too, because he was just putting his phone away when I passed him.”
Damn woman. “Must have. And if you’ll excuse me,” he said, attempting to break free of the crowd of men dressed like men, “Travis is supposed to be my date tonight and dates generally stick together at parties.”
“Do you think,” he heard Dakota ask the therapy men as he walked away, “that he knows he’s not fooling anyone?”
“You got me,” Mr. Dumont said. “But would it hurt to let him think he’s keeping it all on the down low?”
“Please,” Clyde said, the head shake clear in his tone. “Don’t ever say ‘on the down low’ again.”
Wes couldn’t decide what Dakota had meant, however. Did they know that he and Travis were a couple? Because if they had figured that much out, he wouldn’t be surprised. Dakota had been rooting for them as a couple since day one. But what if they’d figured out he wasn’t a stranger to dressing in drag? That wasn’t something he could live with. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he steadied his nerves and turned around, heading right back for the group.
“Wes, weren’t you going to find Travis?” Mr. Dumont gave him a questioning look.
“I was,” he said, rubbing his index finger along the point of his chin, “until I heard what Dakota asked you as I was leaving.”
He could have sworn her face paled upon hearing his works, but he couldn’t be sure in the darkening evening. “Oh?”
“Yeah, and I’m just curious what it is you think you’ve all figured out.” He looked from Dakota, to Peter, to the Dumonts, to Clyde, waiting.
“Isn’t it obvious,” Rozelle spoke from behind him.
Turning halfway so he could see her face, he lifted an eyebrow. “Apparently not, so please do inform me, so I can give Travis proper information in a few minutes when I actually do go and find him.”
She made her way into the group and stood beside her husband. “Well, since you asked, it’s obvious that there’s more than a partnership between you and that hunk of a man over there.” She angled her chin in the direction of said man.
“The women just can’t figure out if you’re sleeping together or not yet,” Clyde added in.
Fear filled Wes’ insides. How the hell had the girls figured it out? On second thought, he figured the change in direction that Travis’ teasing had taken since their trip to Vegas had been the determining factor. Even so…
“So, what are we talking about,” Travis asked, joining the group.
“Oh, nothing,” Wes hedged, praying he could flee the scene before any more was said.
“Right. Nothing much,” Rozelle added.
“Except your budding romance with your partner,” Dakota finished for them all.
Without missing a beat, Travis fell right into step with the conversation, playing it off as if he hadn’t been surprised at all. “Aw baby, they found us out,” he whined, curling an arm around Wes’ waist, resting his hand on a butt cheek.
Travis gave his ass a quick little squeeze that he took to mean ‘play along’. “Yeah, they sure did,” he agreed, trying not to jump from the intimate touch. “I guess we weren’t as stealthy as we thought we were.”
“Naw, you wear your heart on your sleeve,” Travis said. “Well, when you’re wearing sleeves anyway.”
Before Wes could respond, Travis captured his mouth in an unexpected kiss. The stunned gasps from the men were quickly drowned out by the shrieking glee of the women – and the excited pounding of his heart.
They’d stepped quite a bit outside of their combined comfort zones since that first incident. First, by admitting to his fascination with cross dressing. Then the sex. The blessed, amazing sex. He thought he’d crossed every line imaginable when he let Travis stay the night, and then Vegas had happened. They’d taken a vacation of sorts together and even had gone on a date in public.
Now, Travis was kissing him before god and everybody and… he didn’t give a fuck.
Not one single fuck.
And on any given day, he had quite a few fucks to give.
But not right then.
Travis would say that this meant he was learning to let go, to accept himself and their relationship. Wes was more inclined to believe that madness was slowly beginning to take hold. Either way, Travis Marks was kissing him – and grabbing his ass – on Dakota and Peter’s front lawn.
Marks broke the kiss with flourish. Looking at the astounded therapy group, he nodded. “I think it’s time I take my date home, if you know what I mean.”
“Travis!” Wes was scandalized. “Don’t give them any more ideas than the already have.”
“Heh, get it moving, buttercup, we ain’t got all night, you know. The witching hour is fast approaching.”
“It isn’t even close to midnight,” he argued, untangling himself from Travis’ embrace. “Are you afraid I’m going to turn into a pumpkin?”
“No,” Clyde laughed. “He’s afraid you’re going to turn back into a cranky detective.”
“Hush,” Rozelle admonished him. “Let the lovers have a little fun role playing.”
The heat creeping up his neck and into his face burned his skin and seared his soul. He wouldn’t ever be able to look any of them in the eye ever again. “Get me out of here, please,” he begged.
Slipping his hand into Wes’, Travis gave a little tug. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
“Okay,” Wes managed to squeak out.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” Dakota said, following them out to the car.
“Thanks for having us,” Travis returned. “It was actually a lot more fun than I had expected.”
“I agree, but I’m not much for parties in the first place,” Wes admitted.
“And considering the circumstances, I can understand why you weren’t excited to come to this one. But don’t let any of them worry you. Especially the men.” She winked at Wes and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “They don’t get what we have to go through sometimes to snag our man. Have fun you two,” she giggled, walking away.
“What do you think she meant by that last part,” Wes asked, watching her wind her way back to her husband’s side.
“I’m not sure,” Travis said, resting his arm along Wes’ shoulders. “But I think it’s a safe bet that she’s figured out your secret.”
“Oh dear god, please no,” he begged the universe.
“I think it’s also safe to say that your secret is safe with her.”
“Really? Why do you say that?” He leaned into Travis’ side, seeking the warmth of his skin. The cool October breeze had kicked up and had found its way under his too short skirt.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, cuddling Wes closer to him. “Just call it a hunch.”
“You and your gut,” Wes teased, poking his rock hard abs with a fingertip. “Two things that always get me into trouble.”
“Oh really? Should I tell you that my gut is saying we’re not going to make it home tonight?”
“Tell your gut to mind its own damn business. We are going to make it home.” He eyed Travis for a minute before adding, “Before we have sex, even.”
Six miles down the road, Wes found himself bent over the hood of his car, skirt hiked over his hips and his pretty fringed underwear decorating the driver’s seat. He doubted that it was Travis’ gut that had told him they wouldn’t make it home, more than likely it was the thing buried deep inside of him that had been doing all the insisting. He pushed his hips backwards, forcing Travis deeper inside of him, biting back the scream of satisfaction rising within him.
It had only taken one flirtatious comment about sex in the car in Travis’ driveway to convince Marks to pull over into the nearest city park. Wes had begged him to reconsider – they were cops after all and this would violate at least six laws – and before he knew what he was doing, he was simply begging.
“So fucking pretty,” Travis was saying, repeating it over and over in his ear as he pounded him. “My gorgeous little girl, always so willing and horny for her man.”
That was all it took. Travis’ filthy mouth coupled with his thick, eager cock, and he was throwing caution to the wind and his dignity to the ground. His fingers tightened on the hood, sweaty handprints smudging the once perfect wax job. With a muffled shout, Wes exploded in the darkness, his come shooting across the hood. Travis followed swiftly behind him, leaning hard into Wes’ thinner frame.
“You’re heavy, Travis,” he grunted when his lover relaxed his weight onto his back.
“And I think you need to get your poor baby washed again.”
Wes counted to five before responding. “Nope, I think you need to get her washed again. Detailed, too.”
Travis chuckled huskily. “Deal, but only if you let me dirty her inside as well as out.”
“No dice, but… well, maybe we can work out some other exchange back at your place.”
“Now that’s definitely a deal worth making,” Travis agreed, pulling out and slapping Wes’ exposed ass.
They held hands as they approached the community center Tuesday morning. “You sure you’re okay with this,” Travis asked one last time.
“No, but it’s not like they don’t already know, right? Might as well bite the bullet.”
“Good point,” Travis said, holding the door open so he could enter.
“And here’s the happy couple,” Mr. Dumont greeted them.
Wes forced a smile, but Travis went over and sat in the vacant chair between Mr. Dumont and Peter. The three struck up an instant conversation and Wes sat in his usual place, alone. Rozelle and Dakota hovered around Dr. Ryan, their cell phones in hand. Dr. Ryan’s eyes were wide, but she was smiling, so whatever they were showing her couldn’t be – wait.
“Ladies,” Wes said into the noisy room, “just what are you showing Dr. Ryan over there?”
“Wes,” Dakota grinned, outing herself as being involved in some kind of mischief. “It’s confidential.”
“It wasn’t all that confidential on Friday night,” Rozelle snarked. “Matter of fact, half of it was hanging out.”
“Sounds like they’re talking about your derriere if you ask me,” Mr. Dumont chuckled.
Wes hid his face in his hand, muttering, “I’m terrified that you’re absolutely correct.”
Out of deference for Wes’ utter humiliation, Dr. Ryan mercifully started the session. “Sorry about that folks, but the girls were providing me with proof of your promise,” she said to Wes and Travis.
“And that’s not all, I have no doubt,” he groaned, praying that this session would not entirely revolve around the relationship he and Travis had been hiding.
“No, not quite all,” she agreed. “They were also showing me pictures of the other guests, a few of the guests’ pets and…”
“And your kiss in front of us,” Dakota chimed in.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say, Dakota, but yes, they showed me that, too.” Dr. Ryan looked around the room before settling back on the boys. “It seems to have been a rather passionate embrace for two men pretending to be on a date.”
“You could tell that from a picture, Dr. Ryan?” Travis sounded impressed.
Dr. Ryan took her time responding. “Well, not exactly. It seems that someone –”
“It was Rozelle,” Peter chimed in. “She took video.”
“Oh for the love of all that’s holy,” Wes moaned.
“Really,” Travis asked. “Can I see it?”
“Travis, after the session is over, if you don’t mind,” Dr. Ryan scolded him.
“Okay,” he pouted, leaning back into his chair, but not before making eye contact with Rozelle first.
“Now, it seems like you two have been keeping something from us…”
Travis readjusted his position in the chair so that he could whisper to Wes without being caught out. The sound of his voice caused Dr. Ryan’s lecture to fade into background noise, allowing him to focus on something much more pleasant, although no less aggravating.
“I can’t believe she took video,” he whispered.
Wes gave a sad half-smile. “I can’t say it surprises me, really. She’s an odd one.”
“But it gives me an idea. Do you think –”
“No,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t you even dare ask.”
“Okay, but you can’t blame a boy for trying, can you?”
Wes glanced back at Dr. Ryan and found her attention firmly on the Dumonts. “No, I can’t blame you for trying, but don’t you ever suggest it again.”
“Not even Friday night, when you’re drunk, horny and willing to do anything for an orgasm?” Travis wiggled his eyebrows, mocking him.
“Not even then. I’ll do a lot of embarrassing, even degrading things, for a piece of your cock, but I will not allow you to make any kind of permanent record of exactly what I’ve done.” He crossed one leg over the other and rested against the back of his chair.
It wasn’t a lie, he had done damn near everything Travis had ever suggested. This, however, was a no fly zone for a million reasons. He didn’t figure Travis would push it any farther, but he might push it a little the next time they were alone. And he could live with that. What was Travis if he wasn’t pushing his boundaries while pushing Wes’ buttons?
“So, if you won’t let me bring the video camera,” he began, head tilted towards Wes’, “then will you at least put that cowgirl outfit on for me again?”
His dick got stiff simply from hearing the words. But he had learned not to ever appear too eager when it came to any of Travis’ suggestions. “I think we can negotiate that later.”
“Over dinner?”
“Over dessert.”
Dr. Ryan droned on about acceptance and differences and how each couple had their own hurdles to overcome. She reiterated many of the same things she brought up every session and added a few new ones into the mix. He listened with only half an ear, wondering what she was going to add to their case file later that night. What she’d tell the captain and wondering if she’d ever mention the kiss.
It didn’t matter, or so he told himself in an effort to reduce some of his anxiety. She would do and say what she thought was best and if that meant she told Sutton about his relationship with Travis, then so be it. He wouldn’t be surprised if their captain already had his suspicions.
Travis was watching Peter and Dakota as Dr. Ryan addressed their particular issue. Dakota twisted the band on her left finger, smiling that joyful grin that was solely hers. He felt himself instinctively reach for his left ring finger, stopping only when he realized there wasn’t a band there any longer, that there never would be again.
He dropped his hands into his lap, frustrated and ashamed for even thinking about it. Unsolicited, Travis grasped his left hand in his right, drawing his attention away from what he had lost and reminding him of what he was working towards.
Who said he needed a ring on his finger anyway? Travis might buy him a ring pop, but that’s as far as that would go. Maybe he could up the ante to a candy necklace, too? The stupidity of his line of thought made him giggle, exposing his inattention to the entire group.
“Wes? Is there something you’d like to share with the group?” Dr. Ryan’s face was both stern and curious, an odd mix on such a pretty woman.
“No, Dr. Ryan, not at all. I was just suddenly craving a ring pop.” Realizing how his words sounded, he hastened to add, “And I actually mean a ring pop, Travis.”
“Damn,” he complained. “There’s a 7-11 on the way back to the station. You wanna stop?”
Wes grinned. “Yeah, I think I would.”
“Well then, I guess that means you’re dismissed.”
Travis stood and helped Wes to his feet. Shoulder checking him to get his attention, he asked, “So, what’s with the ring pop?”
“Nothing, just felt the desire to suck on something sweet.”
He lost his partner after ‘something’, he figured. Stopping, Wes turned to find Travis standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “You okay over there?”
“Uhm, yeah,” he said, pulling it together long enough to catch up with Wes. “What exactly did you have in mind for ‘sweet’?”
He cocked his head to the side, devious grin on his lips. “I guess you’ll find out around lunchtime, won’t you?”
Quickly checking his watch, Travis frowned. “Man, that’s like three hours from now. No fair!”
Wes kept walking. “Anticipation is the best sweetener.”
“Motherfucker,” Travis growled. “It’s going to be one long ass day.”
But Wes would be sure to make it worth his while. Teasing him like this always worked to both their benefit and he was pretty sure he’d figured out the key to keeping Travis on his toes. Either way, he’d find out at lunch. Three goddamn hours from now.
