Page 5 of Trevor Takes Care

Overwhelming?Sky asked, tone impossible to read through text until he elaborated.Imagine being the best warrior, or whatever. Being the best. And then even magic means nothing where you are. So you’re nothing but a small, helpless thing once it has you. That would be unknown, terrifying.

Trevor had no interest in being a small, helpless thing but that comment wasn’t about him.Terrifying?

Then it gives them everything they want. That’s terrifying too, in a different way. What does it say about them that they enjoy it?

Trevor shifted in his seat.But the dragon likes the best and wants to keep them.

Sky grasped things so quickly.Mmm never letting go. The dragon has never done that, not like this.And with someone who has never been taken in that way? Fuck. Fuck you have to do that.

Have the dragon make the squirming warrior his?

To pin down a creature like that, the dragon might be unintentionally—or intentionally—rough. It might make a mistake or two, mistakes that could lead to hurt feelings or pain… or get sexy real fast.

His, Sky said, not a question, ending Trevor’s worrying.Please.

Trevor had to take a few long moments to get back to thinking about the fictional warrior. That was what they were supposed to be talking about. Maybe itwaswhat they were talking about and he was imagining things.

His, Trevor answered at last, but wasn’t sure if Sky had gone back to work or fallen asleep. He didn’t respond right away, so Trevor tried to focus on fantasy concerns.

He would have to decide on more about the warrior to know how he would react to being treasure. Someone used to fighting and a hard life, absolutely shocked that he would be treated as such a prize? No one would be expecting him to be taken and enjoy it so much. People usually wanted their monsterfucking to involve the more typical heroes and heroines, or lithe, hairless, delicate creatures, or someone small and bookish,maybea saucy bard. Never someone so overtly strong.

The warrior’s backstory would change the nature of the encounter, not that Trevor’s cock cared about that after hours spent imagining a variety of sexual positions, and the sounds someone like that would make if they were helpless in a dragon’s coils, and Sky’s reaction to both of those things.

His, Sky had said.

Trevor wasn’t thinking about it.

He might get hurt, Trevor warned.

Like that bothers you all that much, Sky startled him with a quick reply.He can take it, can’t he? That’s why the dragon wanted him in the first place I bet.

Yes.

Will you show me when you draw that?

Of course.

This is going to be hot, you know. People will love it.

For a second, Trevor was perilously close to blushing.You’ll like it at least. My most important audience member.

If they’d been on the phone, he might have caught Sky’s reaction to that. In text, all he got was,Am I?And then a dragon emoji bookended by hearts.

Sky went back to work shortly after, or must have. He probably wasn’t sleeping, though he should have been. Trevor held in his questions about that to focus on the roughly handled treasure and the images he was going to send Sky whenever he finished them.

Of course, in between the mental pictures of a thick warrior getting plowed were glimpses of a slighter but far more terrifying figure being pinned down and slowly opened up for the fucking he would beg for. Next to each other, the images were enough to make Trevor’s mouth go dry.

He debated unzipping to take care of himself there and then, though already knew he wouldn’t because even the off chance of his grandmother walking in was enough to at least temporarily kill the mood. He adjusted himself, got up to let Ellie back inside and lock the door behind her, and was heading toward his bedroom when a knock at the front door stopped him.

It hadn’t been loud enough to disturb his grandmother in her room, but Trevor glanced down the hall toward her anyway before moving cautiously toward the front door.

His phone didn’t have any new messages, but that didn’t rule out a thoughtless family member showing up to pick up or drop off something on some other family member’s orders. If not that, then it was more than likely Nancy with something for his grandmother related to their conversation earlier.

Still, the memory of some weirdly combative apartment neighbors made Trevor look through the peephole before he even touched the doorknob.

Mulberry Court’s one streetlight showed a sturdy figure with short hair and a shirt of blue check flannel. A figure about the size and shape of G.G., which couldn’t be right. But no, thatwasG.G. turned to one side and waiting at the edge of the porch, as far from the door as one could be without falling down the steps. Trevor stared for another moment, then flipped on the porch light. He put his phone in his pocket, ran a hand over his head as if he had hair to check, then opened the door.

The startlingly direct gaze met his, then dropped, then came up again, slower, as if G.G.’s attention had briefly gotten stuck on Trevor’s jeans or his tattoos. Then G.G. frowned, and it seemed to Trevor that his eyebrows were the same as the rest of him—fierce, although Trevor couldn’t have explained why since G.G. was hardly aggressive. He was hovering and half-turned away on the far edge of the porch, and he stared and then blinked as if he didn’t know what to make of Trevor’s silence.

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