Page 27 of Trevor Takes Care

That earned him another suspicious glance, but she gave him his shrug back. “Don’t see why not. Celery next?”

Trevor nodded and went back to his chopping and slicing.

A pie probably wasn’t anything. G.G. was older, experienced, divorced or something close to it. He was probably after something more knowledgeable and sophisticated than whatever Trevor could scramble together. Like whatever a billionaire executive dom would do, if that was a thing outside of fanfiction and romance novels, or a proper leather daddy.

Trevor was still learning Sky but he knew enough. Sky liked sex but also not thinking for a while. He was used to being ignored by his family yet having everyone else looking to him for answers. He was always processing information and had to have his brain shut down like a computer. Really, anyone willing to boss him around, or hold him down, or tie him up could do that for him. Trevor wasn’t special; Sky just trusted him. Sky trusted him so much that he allowed Trevor to sometimes push him a little farther. In exchange, Sky tolerated Trevor buying him dumb shit he didn’t need, and praising him, and sometimes calling him ridiculous pet names and fussing over him.

Or more than tolerated, Trevor suspected. But either way, it was probably amateurish stuff to G.G. Trevor cringed internally at the thought.

But G.G. wanted to make this desk for Trevor. He had also seemed to like Trevor’s rules—conditions. Discovering that had been like stumbling into a character design that lit Trevor up inside.

But judging from how G.G. had then run away, Trevor wasn’t likely to find out more than that. Not for a long time, anyway, if at all. Either because Trevor ultimately wasn’t what G.G. would prefer or G.G. wasn’t interested in anything and had chosen his isolation long before the plague. Someone like that would have to be herded back into socializing, if he even wanted to be.

Herdedwas not the word Trevor had meant to use.

He nearly sliced through his index finger and shook his head to clear it before focusing on safely dealing with the rest of the vegetables.

He messaged Sky while standing in front of the oven waiting for the timer to go off.Time to talk tmrw or still busy?

Still doing work thing. Will call when I can.

Trevor thought about the promotion Sky didn’t want, and the one he apparently did, even if he hadn’t said, and typed,You’ll impress them. Of course you will.Even though Sky getting promoted would mean him being even more out of reach.

When that finally happened, Sky was going to need to find someone to replace Trevor. Trevor had realized it months ago and gone as far as to write down thoughts on it into the notebook dedicated to Sky. Possibly an accommodating boyfriend, but more likely, someone like Trevor, but better. Someone more experienced to fulfill Sky’s specific kinky needs, andthenmaybe also a boyfriend to care for him at home.

He hadn’t mentioned it to Sky yet because he didn’t want to, but also because Sky would struggle with the idea. Interviewing a potential dom wasn’t going to work if Sky still wouldn’t admit what he wanted or if the person wasn’t quick enough to notice when Sky was wriggling.

The other things someone more professional might want, or at least offer… Trevor should have brought up with Sky long ago. It was difficult when Trevor couldn’t physically restrain Sky and make him be honest.

And when Trevor also didn’t want to let go of him.

Nonetheless, he sent that message, then put his phone down, slipped his headphones on, and made himself draw for hours.

Chapter Twelve

On his own, Trevor would have let G.G. be for the rest of the day at least. But he wasn’t on his own, and his grandmother didn’t know G.G. had been flushed and attentive in the backyard this morning because Trevor had set him a task.

Of course, knowing that he would be handed a covered dish to take to G.G.’s for dinner, Trevor had cleaned up and put on something that wasn’t covered in yard dirt or pet fur. No comic or manga characters, either. Just a long-sleeved button-down with pale stripes and pants that were not jeans.

His underarms were slightly damp when he knocked on G.G.’s door but he smiled when the door opened. The smile was avuncular. Friendly. Not a hint of whatever kind of teeth a collie might use to get a big-eyed, fluffy creature into its pen.

G.G. was in the same clothes he’d had on earlier, minus his shoes. He didn’t blush or in any way indicate that anything had happened that morning. He swept a look over Trevor, then fixed his attention on the casserole dish before taking a small breath and raising his gaze to Trevor’s face.

“There’s no telling her no now,” Trevor said, a harmless nerd bearing a gift. “I think she’s tired of cooking for only the two of us.”

“She did like to have company. Your family used to come over all the time,” G.G. responded in his quiet, husky voice. “Most weekends and a lot of the holidays.”

The cars had filled up the whole court on those days. A hard thing to miss, even for someone trying not to spy. G.G. had probably even heard the kids giggling and screaming in the backyard.

“Yeah, we all used to,” Trevor agreed with a different smile for the memories. “Not now, or not everyone at once now, for obvious reasons. My grandma can cook, and the court was a fairly safe space for my siblings and the sportier cousins to play whatever they felt like playing at the time. And it’s not the biggest yard in the family, but it is the nicest.”

“Itisnice,” G.G. agreed.

“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment,” Trevor told him, pleased anyway. “You should see it in a few weeks when everything bursts into life at once.” He wasn’t pushing. Neither was he backing off. He didn’t know what he was doing, except waiting for G.G. to decide what to do with him.

G.G.’s beard was going to need a trim soon, but barbers existed even in Covid times, so Trevor didn’t make any offers there. He said, “I meant to ask if the plastic wrap had worked out for you and if you needed help with that again, but you seem to be doing okay. That’s good.”

The bandage, truthfully, looked a little worse for wear. If G.G. had put it on himself that morning, it had not been wrapped tightly. If it was the old one, then he needed to change it.

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