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Armando let out a feeble thanks to Travis' assistance, standing awkwardly next to the stove. Realizing he was probably in the way, and feeling useless, Armando found himself seated at the table with nothing to do but twiddle his fingers. He found his uncomfortable for a few reasons, chief among them being that he was worried that if he did try to twiddle his thumbs he would get splinters from his mechanical hand. Besides this, Armando was used to having his hands busy. When he was very young, there was always farm work to be done that required a small hands. Even when he was a bit older, there were odd jobs to do around the house, errands to run for overwhelmed aunts, younger cousins to keep track of, and generally never a dull moment. Now, as an adult, his work was also hands on. He'd grown accustomed to having something in his hands, well, hand. As if he didn't feel useless enough...
He had never questioned his competence as an adult before he'd met Travis, perhaps because he had never met anyone who seemed to have himself so in check all the time.
Armando tried to form an answer to Travis' question. It had been dark. He had been exhausted. He had grown accustomed to another person in his bed because of William's presence. He opened his mouth, trying to pick out which of these answers would sedate his clearly irate assistant, only to close it again. No matter what he said, it would sound like an excuse to Travis. He wasn't a rapist or anything! There, he'd allowed himself to think it finally. He was sure that he hadn't done anything. He couldn't-wouldn't-have, right? Surely he knew himself well enough to be sure of this.
Feeling too out of place to continue just sitting there, Armando stood and emptied the cold remnants of Travis' coffee from last night into the sink, rinsing the cup lightly. Placing it back on the counter, he rummaged in a cupboard for a pair of coffee filters and a second mug for himself.
"I just fell asleep." Armando said finally, trying to put the truth as simply as possible in a way that it didn't appear that he was making excuses. Still, he could not help tacing the "I'm sorry, Travis," onto the end of it. What more could he offer the man?

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Watching Travis make their coffee and retreat to the couch with his cup, Armando took the opportunity to reach for his. Holding it up, he inhaled the pungent steam with a small sigh. Looking over at the back of the couch and what he could still see of the back of his assistant's head, Armando took a cautious sip of his coffee. He almost spit it back out again. The stuff was strong enough to wake the dead. Still, he forced himself to swallow and wasted no time in adding copious amounts of cream and sugar.
"If I hear any more I'll get such a bad headache. So just... go do something." Taking this as as close to forgiveness as he was going to get at the moment, Armando nodded, though he was fairly certain Travis could not see the motion from his position on the couch. It really was a hideous piece of furniture.
Deciding to take Travis' advice, Armando quickly located his keys, thinking that the best course of action would be to open shop a few minutes early. He did, after all, have to deal with an important client today. The mechanic left his coffee on the counter momentarily in favor of finding and putting on his shoes and coat, not bothering to change his clothes from yesterday. Retrieving the mug, Armando made his way to the door.
"I'll, uh, see you downstairs, Travis!" He called as cheerfully as possible, managing a small, but sincere smile. With that as his good bye, Armando started off down the stairs, closing the door behind him.



{{Can't remember how Armando likes his coffee... might have screwed that up, sorry!

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Armando liked the snow. He always had, even as a child. That was a common misconception about Ariatros. While it was true that the climate was relatively mild, and that their winters were hardly anything compared to Skadi's, they did in fact have snow, living so near the mountains. He could remember it coming down in big fluffy flakes, obscuring the mountains in a gray haze, sticking to his eyelashes and wetting his hair. The adults would frown and click their tongues at the sky disapprovingly as they went to check on the animals. The snow hardly ever stuck, and when it did, it melted after only a few days. Aritroan winters were characterized mostly by the half-frozen mud that always seemed to find a way inside the house.
Armando also loved Christmas. He assumed that this was a given for most people, and had half-hoped the holiday would lighten Travis' mood. The first incident of their newfound sleeping situation had not been mentioned since, and Armando could never quite tell his assistant still held it against him. Having the third person in the bed had been nerve-wracking the first night, not because it was crowded-lord knows Armando and his cousins had crawled in together for warmth when they were younger-but rather that is was Travis. It would have been more amusing to watch Travis' debate with himself about which would be worse, putting William as a barrier between himself and Armando, thereby putting the boy in close proximity to the mechanic, or placing William as far away from him as possible, and enduring the closeness to Armando himself, if he had not been concerned about upsetting Travis even more.
On the afternoon which Armando had taken William out, he had hoped to buy Travis some sort of present that would perhaps soften his assistant's attitude toward him. William too, had thought this idea grand, and had come up with a long list of gift ideas, rattling them off in his small, excitable voice. Ranging from a new frying pan, to a pair of leather boots, to a vacation home on Valeria, Armando had one by one rejected each of these ideas as gently as possible. In the end, the pair decided to leave the shopping until later. Instead they went to the public park, where they bought paper cones of roasted chestnuts from a street vendor and splurged to take a ride on the carousel that had been set up for the season. William, taken by the carved palomino carousel horse he road, proceeded to make pages and pages of drawings of the creature upon their return to the house. He had, in fact, decided that this was a very good present, and had compiled his own book of illustrations for Travis that he would not let either man see until Christmas.
While Armando had closed the shop a few days earlier, there were still repairs to be made over the break, and so Armando found himself spending almost as much time in the garage as he normally did. He did not really mind however, enjoying the work and the time it gave him to collect his thoughts. It was here, even on Christmas Eve, that Armando found himself.
At this moment, his parents, his aunts and uncles, his cousins and their children, they were probably together. It would be the first time in his life that he was not with his family for Christmas. He wondered if they were upset with him for missing the event, whether anyone would drop in to say hello, or if he ought to try to bring Travis and William to them tomorrow. The idea of introducing his assistant and... William, to his family was a little daunting.
Besides that, Armando still had been unable to find a gift for Travis. He felt guilty, and a little disappointed in himself. Did he really know so little about his assistant that he could not think of anything to get him? It was not even that. Sure, Armando could think of things Travis might enjoy, but he had wanted it to be the right thing, the perfect thing. And now he was left empty handed on Christmas Eve. With a small sigh, Armando closed the hood of the car he was working on, gathered his coat and locked the shop.
The apartment was quite when he reached it, shutting the door quietly behind him.
"Hello," He greeted the house, just as much as Travis, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat. He padded across the chilled floor to the kitchen, where he was surprised to find a warm mug already on the counter. He was almost worried to take it, lest it belong to Travis and he were scolded for contaminating it with his lips. However, Armando, thinking it through, did not think that Travis would just leave the drink there for no reason. Seeing that his assistant already possessed his own mug, Armando judged it safe to at least taste.
Again, hesitating, painfully aware that Travis liked his coffee deadly, Armando took a sip. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the drink was mild, and sweet enough that, not only could he tolerate it, but actually enjoy it as well.
"William asleep?" He asked, bringing his drink to the living room and settling carefully into a seat on the couch beside Travis, trying not to spill his drink as he did so, though honestly the couch was so hideous that some chocolate coffee stains would probably do it some good.

{{It was an accident! Sorry! It should be corrected now.}}

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Armando too, nodded along with Travis. He was a little surprised, honestly, that William had gotten to bed at all, and had half-expected to be up the entire night with him. The boy actually had very good stamina, as far as staying up late went, probably from a lot of practice... The thought was mildly troubling, but simple enough to brush away.
After all, it was Christmas Eve! Wasn't this supposed to be a time for rejoicing? Armando felt as though he should not be worrying so much, and wished that he could shake all of his concerns as easily as he had shaken that thought.
He almost jumped, hearing Travis speak, the liquid in his mug sloshing dangerously.
"The McKenzies," Armando answered quickly, calling out the name of a frequent family patron. The McKenzies were a large bunch, all rather short and stocky, and whose many children seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in decimating their vehicles. "Those kids really did a number on that poor thing. They asked me if we could have it done over the break and I... I couldn't say no."
Armando smiled at Travis sheepishly. He never could say no to anyone. Even when the garage was full to bursting, he would always say yes, and find another spot, somewhere, for anyone who asked. It was probably one of the reasons why his was always so busy, and why he had needed an assistant so desperately. Still, he wasn't going to try to pawn his work off on Travis, especially during the holidays.
Stretching out his feet in front of him, Armando sighed contentedly, wiggling his toes to release them of the feeling of still being encased in his shoes. He sipped at his strange coffee-cocoa mixture, wondering if Travis would continue making it even after the holidays passed.



{{Sorry, I know this was weak!

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"Don't drop that on your foot." Armando cautioned, feeling reminded of the first day he'd met Travis. The young man had been doing the exact same thing, flipping his wrench, on that day as well. It felt like years ago, not mere months, that Travis had walked into his shop. Had his assistant really only been living with him for a matter of months? It felt very natural to have the two of them there. Armando had grown so accustomed to cohabiting with them, that he forgot to notice that there was anything unusual about it. Funny how, thinking about it, they really did not have a typical employer-employee relationship - something that Armando had somehow overlooked until this moment.

In response to Travis' question, Armando shook his head.
"We ended up riding the merry-go-round instead," He admitted, feeling a pang of guilt. The afternoon had, of course, been very enjoyable, though a far cry from productive. He sighed inwardly. It wasn't as if Travis were the type of person to bestow gifts on people anyway. Thinking about gifts reminded him that, not only had he failed to get a sufficient present for Travis, but also for his family members. He realized, with a humorous little jolt, that the only person he'd gotten a gift for this year, was William. The contraption he'd devised was not that great, only taking a few hours to assemble, but Armando hoped that the boy would find joy in the little mechanical creature he had built.

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"Hm? Of course, Travis." Armando had allowed his mind to wander, recalling past Christmases since he was a child. He could remember the holiday in the old country, of course: mass for the better part of the morning, followed by a huge dinner, a few presents, and a parade in the evening. He could also remember the first few celebrations in this new land. Armando had been sorely disappointed to find that the parades did not include any donkeys or goats, and that the songs played by the band were completely different. Still, Armando had always liked celebrations, and in the small community of immigrants he'd grown up in, some traditions, such as the dancing, had been preserved. He wondered vaguely if Travis would come dancing someday.

Finishing his drink, Armando rose with his mug. He collected Travis' as well and padded in his socks to the kitchen. He dumped them both into the sink, and, deciding for once not to put it off, began rinsing out the cups. He did not return to the couch until he'd finished the dishes and set them on the drying rack.