Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis Phelps

4

Dedicated to will and antimony❤️❤️❤️ my favorite gays

   Sal Fisher smelled like cedarwood. Sitting next to him made that abundantly clear.

   His leg bounced under the desk anxiously as Sal jotted down notes for Algebra, casually resting the side of his prosthetic face in his palm.

  Travis was in no mental state to be focusing in class, not with the scent of cedarwood filling the air, not with Sal's knee occasionally brushing against his.

   He would have loved to scream or run away or start crying, but he was in public, and that meant that all he could do was stare at the blackboard, pretending to be paying attention.

   Travis's foot was tapping on the floor much louder and faster than he wanted. In fact, he found that he wasn't in control of it at all. It seemed like his leg was jerking without him even putting effort into moving it in the first place.

He stared down at the nonsensical equations on the worksheet that the sub had passed out to everyone.

What the actual fuck?

He drew his eyebrows together and desperately tried to direct his energy towards whatever the hell was on his paper, but he was baffled, truly.

Besides, with his little gay obsession sitting next to him, it was hard to make sense of what the sub was rambling on about.

   "You okay?" Sal's clean, soft voice cut into his thoughts. His tone was just above a whisper.

   Travis jumped at the sound and spun his head to the right to become face to face with bright blue eyes. Sal had noticed his anxiety.  Whether it had been his tapping foot, his frequent swipes of his hand through his hair, or his obvious inability to breathe that made it clear was unknown.

   In an instant, he was met with that strong scent of cedarwood again, and he stared at Sal's pretty porcelain face, which was resting in his hand. "I'm fine." He said shakily, speech harsh and wavering.

Why are you even asking?

   Sal tilted his head, not seeming totally convinced. He directed his gaze past Travis and out the window. "I guess the storm is finally kicking in," He mumbled gently, ignoring how pissed off Travis seemed. "I hope it lets up."

Travis shifted his eyes back down at his blank worksheet. There was a warm burning in his chest, one that prompted him to speak again. "Why does it matter?" He mumbled, voice shaking, "It's just snow."

   Sal seemed surprised that he responded; in more than three words, this time. Travis couldn't say he wasn't shocked at his own actions too.

   "Well," came Sal's voice, calm and quiet as always. He glanced past his head again, staring at the snowy trees in the distance, "if the blizzard doesn't slow down, we'll have to shelter in."

   Travis felt a sense of dread rush up his spine. They wouldn't actually do that, would they?

Sal turned back towards his worksheet and flipped his pencil in his fingers, "They mentioned it during the morning announcements," He added as an afterthought.

Travis's hands clenched into fists, and he made a mental note to calm the fuck down. He wasn't sure why he was so worked up. Honestly, all he did know was that Nockfell had a history of heavy blizzards. That, and the fact that Sal Fisher was wearing mascara. It made his eyes seem even bigger and bluer than usual.

"Mr. Fisher," The substitute teacher called out as Sal whipped his head around to say something else to Travis. She stared at him with a tight, visibly annoyed expression, "Are you writing this down?"