“And fuck?” G.G. pressed.
Trevor shrugged but answered, “Oh yeah. I mean, get something fun in between all the danger and trauma, you know?”
G.G. nodded slowly. “This is… like the game with magic and dice, right? Not it, butlikeit? So there isn’t a world already waiting for you. You’re creating an entire worldandthe people in it. From scratch.”
“If you’re going to sarcastically call me Aragorn like some people do when I mention fantasy stuff, then you obviously haven’t read those….” Trevor stopped because, firstly, he had seen gorgeous Tolkien books on G.G.’s shelves, includingThe Silmarillionbecause G.G. was an overachiever, and secondly, because that wasn’t what G.G. had been about to say at all.
“I mean,” he tried again weakly, “it’s fucking and it’s romance. Nobody takes those seriously in fiction or art.”
“You do,” G.G. said simply. “So you need a proper workstation, even if you don’t know what that means for you yet. Would…?” He paused, looking conflicted, but then went on. “Would you like to see mine?”
“I would anyway,” Trevor told him smartly, leaning in to give him another kiss, small and encouraging.
G.G. was starting to go pink all over as he turned to lead Trevor through the living room to the room that must be his office.
It had walls of a deep, luxurious green, shelves that also looked custom, and a desk chair to rival Sky’s, although it obviously wasn’t meant for gaming. G.G. stood in the middle of the room, some tension returning to his shoulders, which was vexing after all the work that had gone in to relaxing him. He clearly wasn’t used to anyone in his space, or possibly jewel-tones were not the expected colors for a contractor’s office and he anticipated harsh judgment.
Trevor grabbed G.G.’s hand and let G.G. trail behind him and cough awkwardly while Trevor inspected his desk and drafting table. The desk looked more used. It even had a space underneath for a cat bed by where G.G.’s feet would go.
“You’re so cute,” Trevor told him, infatuated and dorky with it.
G.G. gave him a befuddled stare.
“The cat bed. The green,” Trevor explained, explaining nothing, he was aware. He tried to be serious. “But you don’t work for anyone but yourself now?”
“These days.” G.G. looked down, then up, but only to where Trevor still held his hand. “I had a business of my own. It was expected, that or join with someone in the family. And I wanted to do something away from them. The business did well enough that my partner eventually bought me out. I… used the money to invest.” G.G. finally raised his head. “If you aren’t greedy or trying to make a lot very fast, you can do all right. And my expenses are minimal.”
“You understand the stock market? It looks like nonsense to me.” Trevor had no shame in admitting it. He was convinced most of itwasnonsense.
“Wild speculation suits the needs of those already very rich or those making money off those who want to be very rich but don’t know any better. Greedy people lie, and the rich protect each other, not anyone else.” G.G. confirmed Trevor’s suspicions with more precise, and more damning, language. “But if you have a nest egg to begin with, and aren’t impatient or reckless…. This is boring.”
“Not really. So you’re your own financial advisor and you don’t need to work, although you could if you needed to?” Trevor nearly laughed. Hesohad a type. “Your family doesn’t get that, do they?”
G.G. shrugged. “They wouldn’t listen. I can’t make them.”
“Do you want to talk about this right now?” Trevor asked, unsurprised when G.G. shook his head. “Okay. So then, this is where you research and plan. Show me your actual workstation.”
A command, but those were going to fall out of Trevor now. G.G. gave him a considering look, but pulled Trevor to the sliding door on the other side of the room, which showed the part of the backyard Trevor hadn’t seen yet.
They stopped to make sure Miss Delilah wasn’t around, although G.G. insisted she wasn’t the type to dart out like Pumpkin had been, then went outside. They were both still in their socks, but the grass was soft.
This part of G.G.’s yard was as plain as the rest of it, except for two large sheds, one of which G.G. opened for Trevor to peer inside. Trevor beheld sawhorses and tools and equipment all laid out or hung up without a single piece touching anything else.
Trevor glanced knowingly at G.G. for that but didn’t comment. He took a deep breath, enjoying the lingering scent of cut wood. Filing cabinets and a long worktable took up one wall. “So now you build personal things instead of working for other people? Is that the difference?”
G.G. tugged his hand free to walk over to the work table to straighten something. “’Partner’ as in domestic as well as business partner,” he said, not looking back. “He was good at business things, and I think he assumed I wasn’t listening when they were discussed, and that anyone could do the construction stuff. Which was probably why he decided he’d be better off handling everything himself. I didn’t really add much. Any contractor would do.”
“Just drawing,” Trevor murmured before tossing his head. “I somehow doubt you were easily replaceable.”
G.G.’s mouth curved up for one second of shy pleasure. “I come from a family of contractors. So… maybe I know more than any old contractor. Anyway. I work for me now.”
“And do… stock market-y things?” Trevor had no way to sound smart about numbers and finance. “Because you understood his business talk fine?”
“My family is very successful at what they do,” G.G. said quietly. “He apparently forgot that.”
Trevor, who had first thought G.G. would make a nice barbarian, nonetheless preferred a slightly monkish warrior who kissed softly and begged sweetly. “I’m not going to ask how much money you have, not including the house, which I know is a whole separate thing. But your family really don’t get you, do they? I’d be all over your advice, not dismissing it. It’s like… Sky analyzes things. That’s what he does. Gathers information and looks at it, and if he one day told me to, like, buy all the mangos in the store because there was about to be a scarcity of mangos, I’d believe him. That’s a weird example but you know what I mean.”
“Mangos,” G.G. said back to him, smiling more despite what he was telling Trevor. “To my family, I failed at my business and the marriage they weren’t great with already. So what advice could I ever have for them?”
