Travis Li Montgomery

So Travis had made it out to the bar for his second Wednesday night in a row, which was practically a record for him. But there was maybe Something Going On right now, and he was Being Responsible, so he'd only had the one actually alcoholic shot and a few conversations before calling it a night.

And inviting a certain someone to walk him home, so they could have a chat without quite so many prying, not-fluffy-tailed eyes around.

"You know it's okay with me that you're not into anything serious, right?" Travis said. "Like. More than okay. I am also not here for anything serious either. We agreed on that."

[ooc: for Stark, pls]

Concussions really, really, really sucked.

Concussions when you didn't technically have an actual home and had been living in your fire station and as your not-a-boyfriend-shut-up-we-talked-about-it-and-agreed-we're-NOT-BOYFRIENDS pointed out fire stations are the opposite of restful and -- crap, where was that sentence going?

Right.

Concussions. Bad.

Anyway. Travis had been staying at Stark's, because Stark had said he should and Travis wasn't really in much shape to put up a fight at the moment because concussions really, really, really sucked. But at least Stark was doing his best not to hover -- mostly by spending as little time as possible in the apartment -- and Travis was doing his best not to be too boyfriend-y -- or tragic patient-y, he did not need those memories of the weeks recovering from the skyscraper with Grant, thanks -- by making his way from the bed to the couch every day when Stark went out.

Sometimes he just, you know, didn't make it all the way to the couch. It was fine. Floors were nice to sit on. And he could keep Probie company down here. Yeah, she could -- and did -- get on the couch with him too, but --

Floors were fine. He liked sitting on the floor. That was why he was sitting on the floor next to the couch and not on it. Not because he'd gotten dizzy and had to sit down abruptly and hadn't bothered to get up again yet.

. . . shut up.

[For the owner of said apartment, and likely slowplay. Woo!]

Travis stared at Vic, shaking his head. "I -- you -- you invited my parents?!"

"Not on purpose!" Vic protested. "I live at your house! Nari came to check on things and we were talking and I just happened to mention you and Stark were going to be here for dinner and you know I can't say 'no' to your mom."

"You didn't think that maybe I didn't want to introduce my --" Travis lowered his voice. "-- My alien sex amigo to my homophobic parents??"

"Sex amigo?" Vic asked, smirking. "Oh my god have you guys still not had the 'are we boyfriends' conversation yet?"

"Not the point!" Travis threw his arms in the air. "Ohhhh, this is going to be terrible. This is going to be so bad. . . ."

[for the sex amigo. Up early because holiday slowness, to be heavily adapted from 5x06 "Little Girl Blue"]

So. Travis had been caring for a koala since Friday evening. After attempting to koala-proof the fire station for approximately ten minutes (how the hell had Stark immediately managed to get himself to the top of the fire pole??), he'd decided that Stark-the-Koala would be happiest at home, and made use of his considerable firefighter skills to get him there.

He promised to replace your door later, Stark. Firefighters were not trained in subtle means of entry into locked rooms.

". . . Googling . . . eucalyptus cupcake recipes," he mused aloud as Stark clung to his bicep and chewed complacently on a sprig of potpourri. ". . . Pinterest, pinterest . . . 'Is it safe to decorate cupcakes with eucalyptus leaves'." He frowned. "'if the leaves are ingested there's heck to pay so.' You might be out of luck on that front, bud."

Stark-the-koala seemed unperturbed.

[for the expected, Stark's apartment broken into with permission!]

"Holy shit," Travis said. "I — I mean, holy shit."

"Travis, stop." Vic shook her head sharply at him.

"Right. No. Sorry, I just — holy shit!"

"Trav!"

"Dr. Deluca's brother got --"

"Oh my god shut up!" Vic clapped her hand over Travis's mouth as they went into the station. "You can't just go around yelling stuff like that!"

( In which the violent death of an acquaintance's brother is actually the least dramatic thing to happen to Travis )

[season four was pretty mean to Travis, yes. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. Content note for internalized homophobia and grief. Also, casual mentions of murder and human trafficking. DRAMATIC SHOW IS DRAMATIC.]

"This is great, isn't this great?" Vic said, beaming over at Travis from the driver's seat. "I can't believe we actually talked Maya into letting you work a shift again."

"Mmhm." Travis frowned at his phone. Really, Grindr? He had one more night before heading back to Fandom, and this was what you were offering him for hookup material?

"I hope we get a grisly one." Vic drummed on the steering wheel. "I mean -- I'm not hoping someone's horribly injured, but not all of us were stuck in a mine for three weeks. I gotta catch up."

"You reeeeeally don't," Travis said. He held up his phone. "This guy's profile just says 'SNAKES'."

Vic looked. "Do you think that means he's interested in snakes as a hobby, or is he into snakes like men?"

"Does it matter?"

( In which Travis sees something horrible on grindr that will stay with him forever )

God but he'd missed this. So much.

[open to phone calls if anyone should want to call him. NFB due to distance. Adapted from Station 19 ep 4x01, "Nothing Seems the Same", with all the pandemic crap strippppped right out. . . .]

Travis first assumed the gym bag sitting on the floor of the station was a Safe Haven drop-off. It wouldn't be the first time someone left a baby in a bag at a fire station he was working at, after all. Putting one in a bag that read nothing special on the side seemed in poor taste, to say the least, but, well. People could be really terrible.

There was no baby in the bag, though. Just some basic, almost bland clothes in soft neutrals. (They looked, in fact, a lot like his own clothes. He wasn't going to examine that too closely.) Travis sighed, found a good-sized cardboard box, wrote "lost and found" on the side of it, and tossed the gym bag in. Then went to go back to his chores.

The messenger bag reading martyr complex had been left in the kitchen. This one contained fire safety manuals. It went into the box, too.

The large, military style duffel labeled generational internalized homophobia was too large for the box, so he shoved it into a closet.

Not once, in the process of all this, did he register the backpack reading dead husband slung over his own shoulders. . . .

[open, for sure!]

Which is not to say it doesn't have any. Just . . . most gifs I found in a quick google involve artfully cropped shower sex between two men, because the internet.



This is Travis! He's a very serious firefighter and trained EMT who definitely doesn't spend much of his screen time shirtless and in the shower. He's from Station 19, a spin-off of Grey's Anatomy (hence, you know, all the sex scenes), and as such hails from a city where far more interesting things happen on a daily basis -- but theoretically all within the bounds of regular old modern Earth science.

Theoretically.

Anyway. He's coming in before the superdepressing COVID plotline that is season four, to work at the fire station and despair at the state of Fandom's first response infrastructure. He is very gay, kind of a yuppie, and likely to start rediscovering his inner drag queen. And he is judging you all. So hard.*



* no but really, this guy can be very judgey and passive aggressive, so FYI his IC opinions are not indicative of the mun's OOC opinions, like, ever.

I think this is where I ask for questions and/or pie?