G.G. was worried about Sky, and G.G. had enough things upsetting him at the moment.
“Set the timer for the dough in the fridge,” Trevor gently ordered, “and then why don’t you give Sky something to eat? Would you like some apple, Sky baby?” He asked it sweetly, but was already reaching for a knife and an apple.
He pointedly offered a larger piece to G.G. when G.G. came back to him, since G.G. hadn’t had much either. Then, after making sure G.G. ate it, he left several slices out for him to take to Sky. Trevor would have lovingly shoved each slice into Sky’s stubborn mouth but G.G. merely offered them, one at a time, and Sky leaned forward as much as he could to accept them.
Trevor enjoyed more of his coffee as he watched, and hid his smile by taking an apple slice for himself.
Sky crunched the apple messily and had no way to wipe the juice from his chin. That was Trevor’s fault too, and Trevor didn’t especially care, though when Sky had been a good boy and eaten his treat, Trevor did step over to brush his thumb across Sky’s sticky bottom lip. He half-expected a snap or a snarl, maybe to lose that finger, but Sky stared up, eyes wide over the top of his glasses. Trevor gently tapped the glasses back into place, then dropped his hand to flick the tag hanging from Sky’s collar to make it swing before meeting that stare.
“I think,” Trevor mused aloud whileSmart Boy Skywent back and forth, tinkling like a bell, “that Sky is still hungry.” Sky opened his mouth. Trevor wiped a trace of juice from Sky’s stubbled jaw. “He should have more.”
“Apples?” G.G. wondered, faintly breathless.
“Maybe…” Trevor trailed off as he reached back toward the counter. He tore off a chunk of cinnamon roll and pushed it between Sky’s lips before Sky could protest. Sky chewed and swallowed, watching Trevor warily the whole time. Trevor gave him more before he’d finished the first piece, then nodded. “More apple now, if you would, please, G.G.”
G.G. would, of course, but offering G.G. courtesy while Sky got none was for Sky’s benefit.
“And a drink,” Trevor said casually when Sky was licking apple from his lips. “Water, for now.”
Sky turned from gazing adoringly up at G.G. in order to suspiciously study Trevor. It might have occurred to him that he was going to need to use a bathroom sooner rather than later or risk pissing himself, and that the water was a trap. It probably had already. Trevor wouldn’t have gotten away with the coffee trick if Sky had been more awake and aware when he’d first sleepily stumbled into the kitchen.
But of course, he hadn’t been and that was his own fault.
Nonetheless, Sky glanced up when G.G. filled his coffee cup with water and then put it to his mouth. He took a few sips then leaned back without taking more.
Crafty, or at least attempting to be. Trevor helped himself to another apple slice before settling against the counter with his coffee. “If you want something, Sky, you know what you need to do.”
“I’m sorry,” Sky offered immediately, looking from G.G. to Trevor as if G.G. could, or would, help him here.
“Hmm. I don’t believe you.” Easy victories did not exist with Sky. “You’re sorry now, but where was that remorse last night? Anyway,” Trevor put his coffee cup down firmly, the sound carrying through the kitchen, “you didn’t say it right.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Sky tried, the last word rising as if that had been a question.
Trevor looked away from Sky, to G.G., who immediately raised his head.
“How long for your shortbread dough?” There was a timer on the stove, which G.G. glanced to, then hurried over to turn off before it could start beeping. “What do you need me to help with next?” Trevor asked as though Sky wasn’t in the kitchen with them.
“It gets crumbled over the top, then goes in the oven. The other dough is still resting.” Some of G.G.’s earlier anxiety returned as he frowned and looked to the nook. “We should slice the apples soon.”
“You’re so on top of things,” Trevor praised him. “Take care of the shortbread dough and set the timer again once that’s in the oven. The apples can wait.”
Trevor turned his back to Sky to watch G.G. obsess over whether his crumbled cold dough was properly crumbled or not, his gaze dipping a few times to G.G.’s sweatpants and then coming back up to the plain t-shirt and short apron G.G. wore when working hard in the kitchen.
The apron was plain, serviceable navy blue. Trevor idly considered Christmas as he studied it, then, after G.G. had set the timer again, he moved to get G.G. within reach and tug the apron strings until G.G. faced him.
He had G.G.’s back to the island a second after that, his hands at G.G.’s wrists to keep them behind him while Trevor kissed him with lazy hunger. A small whine came from Sky’s direction. Trevor kept his focus on G.G., the apron first, and then, once that was gone, the shirt too. G.G. shivered and kissed back, leaving his hands where Trevor placed them without complaint.
Trevor stopped kissing him to study his hairy chest and stomach in the morning light, the glint of his piercings, the red flush making its way down his body. He’d bet Sky was looking too.
No collar on G.G. this morning, which was a shame. Trevor should have put it on him after restraining Sky, but he’d had to run out the door and had been gone for a while, so he’d forgotten. He could send G.G. to go get it, but G.G. blinked his eyes open when the kisses ended and his bright gaze said he’d do whatever Trevor wanted anyway.
Trevor moved to the side to kiss G.G.’s neck where the collar should have been, making sure Sky could see what he was doing and hear his quiet, “Oh, look at you, poodle,” as he toyed with one pert nipple. “So pretty for me. Such a good boy.”
With G.G. already compliant, Trevor was free to keep nuzzling his throat and tweaking that reddened nipple. “Isn’t he pretty, Sky?” he wondered after a while, glancing down to enjoy the outline of G.G.’s cock pushing against his sweatpants. G.G.’s shivers seemed endless. He was biting his lip, possibly watching Sky watch them, which was at least half of the reason he was close to shaking. But he would be good, so good, and stay like this until told otherwise.
“Yes.” Sky was quick to answer, strain in his voice. “Yes, Sir. He’s pretty, Sir.”
Trevor raised his eyebrows despite himself, though he didn’t think Sky could see.
