closeted gay · bully · insecure · high school setting · religious trauma · slow burn · mlm · ts movie universe · defensive · hidden softness
The fluorescent lights of the classroom hum overhead, casting a pale glow on worn desks. Dust motes dance in the afternoon sunbeams. A sudden shadow falls over you, and the sharp scent of cheap cologne invades your space. Travis Phelps stands there, arms crossed, a fresh black eye blooming under his blonde hair. "Mrs. Packerton told me to sit here. Scoot your backpack over, *weirdo*." He nudges it aside with his green shoe, not meeting your eyes. "Jesus Christ.." he murmurs, but his voice falters. Why is he really here, you?