In the probably foolish hope that I can finish this tonight, I'm writing another chapter. This one was going to be a part 6, but I just couldn't bring myself to do that. This chapter is pretty weird to write because I've been writing and day dreaming about an awful lot of established WesVis for a while now, so the first time stuff is getting to be pretty strange XD

Thanks to Mariagoner for talking to me about this story and helping me plow through it so fast. Her mutual fangirlishness made it so much easier to get inspired because I had somebody to talk to about my favorite show. Usually I just sit in my room and can't talk to anybody about anything because nobody else likes it *flips table.

Here is the last chapter of Affection for you wonderful people! I loved all the reviews and follows and favorites. They really made my day every time I woke up.

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Settling in to watch the game with Travis—christening his apartment after he'd already owned it for a month—was familiar. They'd done this with every dwelling each of them had inhabited. When Wes and Alex finally settled on a house after Travis and he had become partners, Travis had come over and, while there was no football or baseball on, they'd watched Wimbledon.

When Wes had moved into the hotel, Travis had come over and they watched the Yankees beat the Red Sox again. And when Travis had moved out of that weird little trailer and into the apartment, of course Wes was there. Tonight they were watching the pre-season Cowboys-Raiders game—take a guess on who would win. Now, don't tell Travis this, but the Raiders were awful. He was a die-hard fan, though, so Wes kept his mouth shut.

Back when he still lived with Alex, Travis had always sat next to him just like he did now, only his arm… had never been behind him. Strange, but whatever.

Halfway through the game, almost to halftime with about 9 seconds left, the Raiders actually one-upped the Cowboys. Travis was so excited that he hugged Wes. The blonde sat there for a second in stony silence while the oblivious brunette bounced up and down excitedly, and then he joined in the hug by wrapping his hands around Travis's shoulder blades.

Halftime sucked. The little teeny-boppers they had doing the show were tone-deaf and played noise, not music. Even Travis muted the TV when they came on. They refreshed on chips, dip and beer waiting for the hiatus to end. Wes sat back down on the couch and stared at the ceiling with his head against the back of the sofa. Suddenly Travis's head appeared where the popcorn ceiling used to be.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he said obnoxiously, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touched Wes's nose.

"Your face, obviously. Why are you so close?"

"All the better to see your pretty eyes, oh Blonde One."

Wes quickly pushed his head further into the cushion so he could have space to blow a quick stream of air into Travis's nose. It worked, the brunette snorted and flung himself back into a standing position.

"What the hell, man?"

The blonde just shrugged and scooted over, un-muting the TV when it went off the halftime show. Travis crashed down next to him, so close their thighs touched, and put a hand on his knee instead of behind him. This was a much more familiar touch, so Wes gratefully settled back into the comfortable sofa cushion. It was so weird; the Raiders were winning by three points—totally unprecedented. Just like Travis's thumb and the way it was making his kneecap tingle.

Despite himself, Wes felt his energy draining faster and faster with the combined effort of beer, chips, and the soothing motion of Travis's hand on him. This week they'd bagged a couple of robbers and had to fill out tons of paperwork, no doubt backlog from the last few cases. Needless to say, Wes was exhausted.

Truthfully, he didn't remember falling asleep, much less snuggling in to Travis's side. But that's how he woke up. The TV was on an infomercial for some type of blender for children or something, set to low, the lights were off, and his head was tucked into his partner's neck with his legs over the others. If anyone were to walk in right now they would think they were cuddling. It wasn't unpleasant, per say, to pretend that he and Travis were dating but… no.

He'd been without friendly human contact in this fashion for so long, missed it for so long that he really didn't want to move. So he didn't. If anything, he wrapped his free arm more securely around Travis's torso and went back to sleep. Nodding back off, Wes could have sworn right then that Travis had grinned against his scalp and muttered to himself what sounded like, 'two points to me.'

Definitely suspicious.

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Waking up had been fun. Untangling himself from Travis had not been. To make up for slamming the heel of his hand onto the satellite's power button and making the TV go all loud and static-y, Wes volunteered to make breakfast. Hooray for Saturdays.

Unfortunately, Travis didn't have anything fit to make something from scratch, so Wes made due with some boxed pancake mix. He had vanilla, though. Thank God for small miracles. The brunette sat on island counter in the middle of the kitchen, watching Wes intently as he made a thick stack of pancakes, all golden brown. Wes threw a glance over his shoulder to see what had his partner so entranced that he couldn't talk, and found that his eyes were resting well below acceptable range. The blonde blushed and turned back around, choosing not to say anything. He could hear the smile in Travis's voice though, that said he knew he had seen.

"Aw, honey, you make such a pretty picture in my kitchen, cooking for me," he teased.

"I did it as a make-up present. Don't get used to it."

"But it would be so easy to do that. I kind of want to get used to it…"

Again, the chef chose not to respond. What was he supposed to say to things like that?

And then all hell broke loose. Or at least, mini-hell. Arms were around his waist. Arms. Around. His. Waist. Travis's arms.

"What are you doing, now?" he questioned, slightly breathlessly. This was… too personal to just be the friends they were. Because that's all they were and would ever be… friends. Nothing more, nothing less than friends could ever come from this stuff.

"Watching you cook," Travis said, a little too casually. He had to know what he was doing to Wes. He had to.

"Does that require touching me?"

"At this point? Yes. I can see what you are doing perfectly now."

Wes sighed and put the pan in the sink, trying and failing to escape the brunette's arms. The single plate with the giant mound of pancakes now seemed so far away from his prison.

"I'm done cooking now; can you let of me?"

Did Travis just sniff him? Yeah. Yeah he did. There was no disguising the second sniff.

"What the hell are you doing?" one valiant effort and a push later, Wes had them separated by the island.

"Well I was trying to see what that smell you're wearing is, but obviously that's a problem," no. No, no, no. Travis could not be hitting on him now, not after he'd just decided that they were supposed to be friends only. Maybe Travis didn't like all the touching they'd been doing lately? He'd stop. He'd stop it all if it meant Travis wouldn't play with him like this. Obliviousness was going to be key, here, it seemed.

"Okay, but don't do that. It makes the hair on my neck stand on end," he replied, and watched the small, barely there smirk dawn on Travis's face.

They settled at the kitchen table and ate all the pancakes. Literally an entire box of mix and they ate it. Well, to be fair it had only been three quarters of the box.

Wes had been planning on going home, really he had, but Travis somehow suckered him into watching the crappy daytime TV. Weird things like ancient episodes of Roseanne and Family Matters were on. It was nauseating. They put it on Law and Order: SVU before resuming their places on the couch. Wes made sure they weren't touching this time—strangely, Travis looked disappointed.

After a while of Ice Tea muttering about child molesters, Travis pulled out his phone and started giggling. Intrigued, Wes moved a little closer at his beckoning.

He realized only afterwards that he'd been tricked.

The brunette's hand flew out and snagged him by the back of his shirt—an old t-shirt from law school that had a gavel smashing a graffitied 'LAW'. He was pulled over Travis's lap and was underneath him in seconds, too little time to react. Damn it all.

Crystalline blue eyes looked into darkened aqua, and that's when Wes knew he was in some deep shit. His partner knelt over him, settled between his splayed legs, and held him down by the hips. Wes swallowed uncertainly, his protest dying on his lips while he looked up into Travis's unblinking eyes.

"You know something weird?" Travis started; his thumb moving in that same pattern it had last night on Wes's knee. It always managed to relax him.

"What?" Wes said back, hardly daring to breathe.

"Nearly everyone at the station thinks we're dating. Including the Captain. And the therapy group, and Alex… but you can't seem to get it into your thick head that its true," Wes stuttered a little until Travis leaned in and gave him a long, chaste kiss that was no deeper than a kiddy pool.

"Shh. Let me finish. Think about it Wes. We are a couple in every way that matters except for sex. We touch all the time, we're the one both of us talks to most, we tell each other everything, we've met our families… We are the center of each other's worlds. I know you see it. Don't deny it," He stopped Wes before the blonde could even start to say something.

"I want… I want to be a couple in every way, including sex, Wes. I want that with you, and I know you do with me. You can't hide it."

And Travis watched his partner swallow thickly for a second time, closing his eyes against the brunette's penetrating look. When he reopened them, he quickly leaned up and grabbed two handfuls of hair and locked his lips onto the others.

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When they finally stopped acquainting themselves with each other's bodies, they sat at the kitchen table and ate some Chinese take-out—with forks because Wes couldn't, for the life of him, learn how to use chopsticks.

The skinnier one stared at his food for a moment while Travis slurped up some noodles. He was kind of confused because he was positive he wasn't the only dumbass in this relationship—how could Travis have known about them before Wes did? It really didn't make sense. Unless…

"So who told you?"

"Randi."

Ah. So that was that.

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Thanks for sticking with me throughout this thing guys :) it really means a lot. I've gained quite a few followers since posting this thing XD

I've seen the finale, also, now. Blew my mind. Will gladly talk to anyone about it, just message me and I'll send you my email or something.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers and those of you who were a constant with every single chapter. You made me so happy :3 and all you new reviewers I've seen pop up every now and again—you guys are appreciated as well to the 100th degree! Thanks everyone :)

So ends my first multi-chaptered fiction since I was 13 years old :D and its not completely shitty. Happy day :D