He didn’t quite get the old horror thing. Or the comedies, really. Most of them were ridiculous, but Trevor seemed to like them. He liked Trevor, so it worked.
“I need a shower.” Simon stood up and stretched, waiting for Trevor to come as well. He didn’t usually miss the opportunity for a shower with Simon. “Are you coming?” he asked, eyebrows pulled together.
“Nah. I’m going to hang out here for a minute. I took one after work.”
Simon frowned. Something was wrong. This was where he probably should ask Trevor what it was...but then, if he wanted to talk about it, he would. Simon knew he didn’t like to be pushed so he just said, “Okay,” and made his way to the bathroom.
He couldn’t wait for the big house to be finished. He wanted his office and library. He wanted a bathroom where it wasn’t a struggle to fit two men inside.
Two men... He pulled off his shirt and closed the door, thinking about how naturally those words had popped into his head. It was because he and Trevor were currently fucking. Who was to say they still would be when Simon moved into the other house? Yet, he’d just assumed. That wasn’t something he typically did.
Simon’s shower was quick. He wasn’t one of those people who stood under the spray, soaking it in for minutes on end. Get in, wash up, get out.
He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist. By the time he stepped out of the small bathroom the lights and television were off. He paused a minute. Did Trevor leave? He’d assumed he would stay, but then he noticed a soft light under the bedroom door.
Something was definitely wrong, and as much of an asshole as it made Simon, he almost turned and went for the living room. These weren’t the things he was good at. Yes, he and Trevor talked a lot, but that was usually after sex, or it just happened organically.
It had always been a problem with him and Heather. He didn’t understand her need for him to prod until she told him what was wrong. You say it, or you hide it, that’s the way Simon felt about it.
Still, he went for his room instead of the other part of the house. The lamp beside the bed was on, Trevor lying on his back, fully clothed with an arm slung over his eyes.
It wasn’t the first time he took in how incredibly sexy Trevor was. His T-shirt rode up, showing tanned skin and hard muscles, dark hair that disappeared below his pants.
The tattoo that now got him hard, when before he saw them as mutilating your skin.
The goddamned piercing in his nipple that Simon liked licking.
His lips that Simon liked to kiss. His facial hair and how it felt against Simon’s skin, and the stud in his lip too. Trevor’s face held his youth, except a couple little lines by his eyes showing he obviously spent a lot of time squinting in the sun. He needed to wear sunglasses. He looked as young as he was, but it was his eyes that told a different story. His eyes spoke of all the things he had seen.
And suddenly, Simon wanted to take away some of what hid behind Trevor’s closed eyelids. Wanted to take away whatever made him so distant tonight.
But he didn’t ask. Instead he walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and kissed Trevor’s slightly-parted lips. It wasn’t often that he initiated things. He was still finding his footing when it came to having what felt too similar to a relationship than what Simon should feel comfortable with, but right now, he wanted to give something to Trevor.
He grabbed onto Trevor’s hair because he seemed to like that, and let his tongue dip into Trevor’s opening mouth. Trevor returned the kiss instantly. He nipped at Trevor’s lip, let his hand drift down Trevor’s body, but then suddenly, Trevor rolled, pulling Simon with him. His towel came loose when he went.
Now on his knees, Trevor said, “Lie down.”
“This is for you.” Simon wanted to do something to make Trevor feel good, not the other way around.
“It will be,” he replied. “Lie down. On your stomach.” Trevor pressed down on Simon’s back until he went. Then he was there, between Simon’s legs, spreading them wide before doing the same to the cheeks of his ass.
He couldn’t form a clear thought before... “Oh God...” This was new. This was incredible. Trevor’s tongue brushed back and forth over his asshole. He should stop this. He wanted this to be about Trevor but...his tongue brushed Simon’s hole again, little flicks back and forth before adding more pressure.
Simon pushed back into Trevor, then moved forward. Tongue on his ass, his cock thrusting against the bed. He knew people did this, of course. He’d thought about it himself, but he hadn’t—not with the three men he’d been with, and none of them had done it to him. “Trev...”