Travis grew up knowing a couple things. One of those things was that being gay was a sin, and that if you were gay, or anything like that, you're going to hell. Or at least, that's what he was told. But after an incident with Sal in the boys washroom, Travis starts to think that he might have been wrong the whole time.
Just a quick warning, this is a pretty heavy story and contains things like abuse (both verbal and physical), drug use, suicidal thoughts and attempts, slurs and swearing. I'm adding trigger warnings but read carefully, don't force yourself to read anything you don't want to :)
Otherwise enjoy the story!
Travis Phelps is gay. It's one of the many things about himself that he hates, along with the chub he sees on his stomach that everyone else says isn't there and the dark roots of his hair that taint the blonde he dyes it. He calls the losers at his school "faggot" in hopes that one day he'll wake up and not be one himself. As though if he acts straight, it'll stick. After a while, the acting becomes easier, until he's almost convinced himself he really is straight.
Until Sal Fisher comes to town, and suddenly, with his eye-catching blue hair and his odd face mask, he grasps Travis' heart tightly in his hand. Suddenly, it's not so easy to pretend anymore.
spanish version on profile !
also posted on my ao3, don't worry, i'm not copyrighting anyone! :)