“Living room.” Trevor wasn’t used to being mean to someone who wasn’t Sky, but G.G. needed to learn Trevor meant what he said. “Now,” he added sharply when G.G. didn’t move.
G.G. could scuttle even in his own house. He skittered to the entrance to the living room, his gaze on Trevor the whole time, blinking as if he still wasn’t sure this was happening. He stopped when his socked feet hit the carpet. Then he waited.
That was better. Trevor didn’t smile though. “Keep going. You’re going to kneel for me in the center of the room.”
Another hoarse sound escaped G.G., but he moved, stepping backward with some care, apparently afraid to take his eyes off Trevor.
Trevor wasn’t leaving anytime soon, but it was his fault G.G. worried that he might, so Trevor didn’t comment on that. He stayed in the entranceway, watching G.G. swallow and stare at him and slowly find his way to the center of the living room.
It was then that G.G. finally looked away, glancing at the window, the source of the afternoon sunlight that filled the space. Anyone interested could walk up to G.G.’s house and look in that window, not that anyone would. Not even Trevor had gone that far… although he might have if he’d known G.G. would be on the other side staring out and wishing Trevor would claim him.
G.G. turned to Trevor, mouth soft and open as Trevor slipped off his sneakers to step onto the carpet. He started to drop to his knees.
“No,” Trevor stopped him, ignoring the wounded look on G.G.’s face. He glanced around, noting the bright throw pillows, and passed by the couch to snag one before he approached G.G. He tossed it down between them, focusing on theshushsound it made hitting the plush carpet and the odd little sigh from G.G. instead of his own nerves. “On the pillow. I’ll hurt you if you like, but only things that heal. Not your knees. On the pillow or you get nothing.”
G.G. sank down onto the pillow without a word, turning his face up toward Trevor when Trevor stopped in front of him.
It was simple, easy, to slide a hand through G.G.’s hair until G.G.’s eyes closed.
That was better. Still not enough, but better.
The house was quiet. Not even Miss Delilah’s tippy taps could be heard. Just Trevor’s measured breathing and a sudden gasping inhale from G.G. before G.G. suppressed it.
Trevor let G.G.’s hair run through his fingers again, then closed his hand to pull on the short strands, lightly, curiously, relaxing his hold to pet G.G. again for a while before trying another tug. G.G. made a strained sound, barely audible, then blinked up at him.
His gaze was bright but not sharp. He was starting to go fuzzy around the edges again.
Stillness was what Sky called it. G.G. might have his own name for how this made him feel unless he called it what most people did. Trevor didn’t know the feeling personally, but he liked watching it happen.
He pulled, a little harder, and was rewarded with another slow, dazed blink.
“Pretty,” he told G.G., admiring and warm.
G.G. swallowed. His throat was distressingly bare but that was something else to be addressed later.
“Touch-starved, aren’t you?” Trevor wondered without really expecting an answer. He hadn’t ordered G.G. to be quiet but G.G. seemed to struggle to speak when he was under. Trevor stroked the shell of G.G.’s ear and then his temple, before running his hand through G.G.’s hair again, enjoying how the touch of silver looked in the yellow-bright room. “I could keep you like this, in full view of anyone who might approach your door.”
G.G.’s eyes met his before G.G. quickly lowered his gaze to stare at the floor.
“You like that idea.” Trevor took that in with a shiver of his own. G.G. liked to be watched. Or liked the fantasy of it. Trevor would determine which at another time.
“I could read one of your books while you stay right there and look so pretty for me,” Trevor continued, trying to gauge if G.G. wanted that now, or if it would be better to deal with his physical hunger and then leave him to his stillness. He couldn’t ask G.G.; G.G. didn’t want to think. He’d been taking care of himself for so long, a thousand decisions every day with little reward. Lonely and starving with no one to please. “I could use your mouth,” Trevor suggested without really suggesting, watching G.G. for a reaction and smiling at the jolt that went through his body.
That might work; a hole couldn’t think, after all.
“To be clear, a No or a Stop works for me right now. Even shaking your head. Understand?” Trevor didn’t think G.G. was up for any other kind of discussion.
He pulled on G.G.’s hair, drawing his head back. G.G. blinked at him, somehow glowing in the sunlight and looking even softer at the slight hint of roughness.
“Understand?” Trevor demanded.
G.G. nodded, an absent thing, gazing sleepily up at Trevor in a way that made Trevor want to blush. “A No or a Stop. Yes, Trevor.”
His voice was fuzzy at the edges too.
“That’s better.” Trevor cupped his chin, brushing G.G.’s lower lip with his thumb and not at all surprised when G.G. parted his lips to ask for more. Trevor left him to want, continuing to pet him gently with one hand while forcing his head up with the other. G.G. was so good, Trevor probably didn’t need to pull his hair. But G.G. liked it, so Trevor gripped him harder.
“I thought about you too, you know,” he confessed while G.G. tried to get Trevor’s fingers on his tongue. “I saw those piercings through your shirts. I thought about them, about fucking you. I bet you take cock so well. I bet I’d sink right in.”
