@miraclesnail this is for the both of us, and probably no one else. And @evil-era because you like how I write, but beware this is romantic fluff.
It's springtime. Seating under a tree, a map of Camp laid out on his crossed knees, Travis mindlessly taps his green marker on his lowered chin, head tilted forward above the crumbled piece of paper - he had stuffed too much times in his pockets, and now the map stubbornly refused to smooth out.
Spring means fewer campers, as the ones from the winter holidays have left, and the summer usuals are not yet here, and fewer campers lead to fun, tedious to program activities, all under the watchful eyes of counsellors, such as himself. And because it's April, the choice had been obvious, and unanimous at the latest counsellor meeting : An Easter hunt.
He has been charged to find hiding spots, and thus there he is, looming over a map of camp, wondering on wether not the landmines around the Ares Cabin is too risky. Year rounders are usually aware of the pattern, and know how to avoid them, so it should be fine... probably.
Right ? Travis nibbles on the green marker, his fingers drumming over the small drawn Ares Cabin in contemplation.
"What are you doing ?"
Travis tilts his head up to see Will Solace marching up to him, flip-flops flapping at each step. He's wearing a worn-out white coat, fabric torn to strips at the edges, and stained with pink spots clashing against the greyish fabric. Blood stains that never really came out, no matter how many washes the coat went through.
Will likes to spend his infirmary breaks either seeking out Travis, and helping - sometimes begrudgingly, out of pure love, others willingly- him in whatever endeavour he finds him engaged in, or writing letters to his mother. Considering this week had been uneventful, Travis wins this round.
"Trying to find good hidings places for the egg hunt." He sighs, looking forlornly at his red crossed map. Not a single green spot yet. "Nothing good so far."
"Well, you can add the landmines to the crossed out spots." Will says, shrugging off his coat to lay it on the grass, before seating on it, his bared knee brushing Travis'. "I'm not dealing with blown up campers."
"Right." He clears his throat, dropping the green marker to reach for the red one. "Of course, a big no-no for the landmines."
"Yes, a big no." Will says pointedly, seeing right through him. There's a smile floating on his lips - there's always is a hint of amusement, exasperated or not, on his face when he's with Travis - as he rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "The only reason Connor and you haven't blown to smithereens is pure luck."
"It's not that hard to avoid them." He counters, but still scribbles red over Cabin Five. A shame. He would have loved to see young and brave souls try their luck, and balance skills.
He points to the strawberry fields, laying on the south edge of camp. "This works, right ? Nothing dangerous there."
"It's a good place." Will agrees, tapping his thigh approvingly, his warm fingers sending tingles across Travis' skin.
He doesn't move it again, and Travis circles the fields, grinning, with his green marker. One place down ! About a dozens else to go.
It's cheating, technically, for Will to already know where Travis is going to hide the eggs, but he has a weak, soft, spot for Will. It's the least he can do for all the times the son of Apollo has healed him, and turning a blind eye on such a trivial matter isn't going to cause drastic consequences, so Travis doesn't mind.
If Annabeth was here, she would tear the map of Will's nosy eyes, but Annabeth is currently charged to warn the nature spirits, which means Will is free to cheat his way into victory.
âI was thinking to hide some on the climbing wall.â Travis leans forwards to circle the small climbing wall drawn on the paper. âIf we turn off the lava mode, itâll be funnier than just look under rocks or plants.âÂ
Those kids do need to work for their prizes, otherwise it's no fun. He's going to hide the chocolate-stuffed eggs on the wall. About ten meter high. A chocolate-stuffed egg deserves to be fought for.Â
âIf you have ideas, Iâm open to them.â Travis adds, tapping the pen against his knee, watching the two circled spots. âI have, like, one hundred eggs to hide.âÂ
But when Will nods, leaning to get a better look at the map, his face catches warm rays of sunshine filtering through the leaves, bathing him in a golden light. It makes his blond curls glow golden, turns his hair into liquid gold swayed into the breeze.
He's known for his short attention span. For always jumping from one subject to another, to flip the conversation, forget the topic and start a rant about a widely different one. Travis is notoriously known for being a motormouth that can go on for hours, and infamous for being light-headed when the situation isn't dire.
Every thought of eggs and hiding spots fly out of his mind when Will is this close, and looking so pretty. His hand is still on his thigh, warm and heavy, fingers drumming on his flesh, sending every now and then jolts up his spine.
Naturally, Will is the opposite of him. When his mind is set on something, he will narrow his thoughts to that goal, and that goal only until it is achieved.
Which leads them to this : Travis being dimly aware that Will is speaking, his other hand alternating between the green and red markers to circle or cross spots around Camp, his blue eyes darting up and down, jumping from one point of focus to another.
Meanwhile, all Travis thinks about is leaning forward, get even closer. Will is so startlingly close that he can see every freckle dotting his face, could count his lashes fluttering around his eyes as he speak.
Then, when his eyes shift from Will's, follow the edge of his nose until they fall on his lips, the temptation is too strong.
Travis has never been good at resisting his impulses.
He cuts him off mid-sentence, bringing his hand to cup his jaw and brings his face toward his, pressing his lips softly on Will's. They're sweet, enticing, slightly parted as Will melts into his touch, deepens the kiss by tilting his head forwards.
Travis lets him push him back, back against the tree as Will leans in even more, has to raise his arm against the bark, right next to Travis' head to support himself. He slides his other hand around Will's waist, pulling him closer, until the son of Apollo is pratically laying on top of him, his weight a nice sensation all over his body.
They break apart, have to breathe, but Will stays impossibly close, his lips brushing Travis' as he inhales deeply, eyes glinting under the curls framing his flushed face, blown out in delight.
"What about the eggs ?" He whispers heavily, when Travis doesn't relent his grip. "We're not done."
"It's fine." Travis says, kissing the edge of Will's jaw, getting content sigh out of the other boy. "We'll have time later."
They don't, Annabeth wants the list of hiding spots this evening, but Will doesn't know that, and Travis doesn't plan on telling him.
Annabeth doesn't appreciate it at all when Travis hands her a half-baked list later that night, hair tousled and grinning stupidly like he won the lottery.
She's even more pissed when, three days later, Will Solace is the grand winner of the egg hunt with more than thirty eggs collected.
"Care to tell me why that happened ?" She corners Travis at the campfire, grey eyes heavy with judgement.
But Travis smiles innocently, lies with innate ease. "I guess he got lucky."
Because Annabeth has suffered his presence for over ten years, she sees right through him. Because she has, against sometimes her liking, grown fond of him over those same ten years, and is used to his buffooneries, she just rolls her eyes and storms off, grumbling something about never putting him in charge again.
Across the bonfire, Will shares his chocolates with the younger children, laughing and trying his best to share equally.
Annabeth is wrong, Travis decides. She should let him organise things more often. Everything turns out great, in the end.
