Travis was just one of those people. Hands on, touchy, always open for a hug. He was like that since he was a kid.
The kisses back then we're innocent. Now, they're just oh so problematic.
Griffin couldn't help but turn red. Travis would touch him, hug him. That was all fine, he never wanted to insinuate otherwise, but the cheek kisses we're another story. He could physically feel himself turn a gross shade of red and he was sure he looked like a damn school girl. And with only a cheek kiss!
Disgusting. He wanted more.
"Griffin" Travis says, characteristically enthused one night. They had both been drinking just a little too much wine perhaps. Maybe it was from their lack of contact, the need to have a good time while they could see each other. Maybe they were both just stupid dorks with no self control.
Travis leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek.
Griffin turns away, his face more tinted than his nearly empty glass. He felt Travis's scraggly beard press against his jaw, something he pretended he hated but secretly enjoyed.
"Griffin," he repeats again.
Griffin looks back over, Travis's face still close.
"I said what?"
Travis presses their lips together. It's quick, it's instant, like a peck but just a little too long.
Griffin swore he could have fell apart.