Chapter Ten
“ S o, Matt and Niall finally got you to watch some decent movies, huh?”
Trevor looked over at Clay, sitting in the driver’s seat, as they made their way toward Trevor’s apartment.
“Decent is a relative term.”
“Now that smacks of avoidance. Fine, you don’t want to talk about movies, tell me about how things are going between the three of you.”
“Good.”
“And?”
“And what?”
A low growl came from the heated interior of the car. Trevor took a moment to fiddle with the vents in the car, then pulled his body tighter inside his coat. Clay kicked up the heater, and Trevor sighed as a blast of hot air hit him in the face and on his feet.
“Better?”
Trevor nodded.
“Now fess up. Should we be on the lookout for a gift registry notice?”
Trevor snorted. “Gay marriage may be legal, but I doubt polygamy will be on the books any time soon.”
“Would you if you could?”
“I don’t know. We’re tight, but marriage between three gay men? What are the chances that could actually work?”
“So you’re using Matt and Niall for the sex? You have no intention of making a life with them? A lifetime commitment to your lover, that’s what it means to be in a marriage. It’s not the piece of paper the state gives you.”
“I like them. I like them a lot. The sex is phenomenal. Matt has this little dominant streak that pushes Niall’s and my buttons in all the right ways, but it’s mo—” Trevor saw Clay’s jaw nearly hit the steering wheel. “What?”
“Wow. I never saw that one coming.”
“Umm…”
“I’m having trouble picturing open and friendly Matt as a dark, ball-busting Dom? Wait, I thought you said—”
“No, no. It’s nothing like what was in the video. It’s hard to explain. He kinda gets intense sometimes, and … I don’t know … it works.”
“I guess part of me is a little stunned that my friend has this side to him I knew nothing about.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … maybe I shouldn’t have told you, but you asked and…”
Clay placed a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “You did nothing wrong. Matt, Logan and I have a special friendship. Yes, he’s Logan’s psychiatrist, but that all gets left behind at the office. When we hang out together, nothing is sacred. You remember the holiday party, right?”
Trevor nodded. “I couldn’t believe Ethan and Rick going at it on the Xbox.
Conor is an amazing cook, and Calleigh is so nice.
I can’t believe she works at the hospital as much as she does and still takes the time to be such a good mom.
Mostly I remember you, Logan and Matt playing board games all night. ”
Clay nodded. “Has anyone told you how we all became friends?”
“I’ve picked up bits and pieces here and there.”
“Rick and Conor went to school with Ethan. They’ve known each other for years.
Ethan met Ryan while the two of them were working on a case.
During the process, Ethan was attacked. Brutally.
Left for dead in the freezing snow. I was the lead detective on the case.
We never caught Ethan’s attackers, because the men we suspected of the act fled to China.
Now, Ryan has always suspected and, I have to agree, he’s made some pretty good arguments that the mastermind of the whole thing was actually the person Ethan was prosecuting.
Unfortunately, we could never prove it. Anyway, during the entire process, I ended up spending a lot of time with Ryan and Ethan, and eventually met the McGuire gang. ”
“That sucks about Ethan. I had no idea.”
“Yeah, the guy is doing thirty years for economic espionage, so at least he’s off the streets, but it still sucks. So, back to using Matt and Niall for sex—”
Trevor’s head hit the headrest in Clay’s car, hard.
“It’s not only sex, okay? It’s more. I don’t really know what, but it’s …
when I first hooked up with them? Yeah, okay, all I pretty much cared about was getting off.
But now I enjoy being at Niall’s or Matt’s place instead of going home after work,” he whispered at the end.
“Why do you like it?” Clay asked, just as quietly.
“Because … there’s someone to talk to. Someone to kiss. Someone willing to watch a movie in the dark or listen if I’ve had a bad day. Someone who … someone who wants me. Really wants me .”
Clay had leaned over the seat as Trevor said the last words. Suddenly Trevor had an epiphany. The metaphorical light bulb went on over his head, and Trevor felt like smacking himself at how dense he been. Matt and Niall wanted Trevor to share in their lives, to face each day standing side by side.
In the past couple of months, Trevor had spent more time at Niall’s place than his own.
It no longer seemed massive and looming, but a comfortable place for the three of them to relax together.
It felt like a home. He finally realized what Niall had been talking about the night they met.
As individuals, they stood alone, vulnerable and fighting against the world.
As a unit, they ceased to merely exist. They thrived.
They could support, defend, challenge and grow.
Trevor’s chest hurt as something deep inside him cracked open.
He remembered this feeling from his childhood, before everything changed.
He remembered how his young heart would feel as if it was going to beat out of chest, he was so excited to play in the park with his mother, or the contentment he felt to sit on the couch, sharing cereal right out of the box with his dad while they watched cartoons together.
His feelings for Matt and Niall were the matured version of the childish adoration for his parents.
“I love them,” Trevor said with astonishment.
“It’s about time. You cost me ten bucks!”
“What in the hell are you talking about now? I swear your brain bounces around faster than pinball.”
“The pool. Logan and I bet that the three of you would move in together by the New Year, The McGuires put their money on St. Patrick’s Day, and Ryan and Ethan took April Fool’s.”
“You jackwagons! I can’t believe you all bet on our moving in together. Of all the low down, dirty, rotten—”
“Um, Trev?”
“What!”
“Matt picked Valentine’s.”
That did it. Take him off the spit and call him done.
Trevor couldn’t stop his laughter from erupting for another second.
He was bent in half, clutching his stomach as his entire body shook with hilarity.
All the day’s emotions came out as hyenic cackling.
Joy, relief, fear, anger, and love. Trevor tried to catch his breath.
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out until he stopped gasping.
When Trevor opened his eyes, he saw Clay parked in the alley between his and Mr. Carlyle’s house.
Trevor raced up the steps to his apartment.
His heart and mind a little lighter now that he’d spoken with Mr. Carlyle and found that the old man was fine.
Trevor’s first thought after processing the images from the video was concern that whoever had murdered Mindy would now go after her owner.
He’d grown quite fond of the old man over the course of hours together playing chess since Mindy’s passing.
Trevor hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of Mr. Carlyle sitting in that house all alone.
Trevor shoved the key into the lock and flung the door open.
Clay was somewhere behind him, but Trevor didn’t pause in his mission.
Without stopping, he ran back to his bedroom, grabbed the duffle from the floor of his closet, shoved several changes of clothes into the bag, dashed to the bathroom, haphazardly threw together a toiletry kit—grabbing the new box of condoms in the medicine cabinet—dashed over to his bedside table, snagged the bottle of lube—you could never have too much lube—tossed the strap of the duffle over his head and skidded to a halt in the living room where he found Clay examining his DVD collection.
“Oh good, I still have a job,” Clay grinned and pointed at the tower of cases.
“Yeah, yeah. You ready?”
“So this is chez Trevor?”
Trevor looked around. “Yep. It’s small but better than a lot of the places I looked at.”
“I like it. Functional and simple. Could do with a little personality, but—” Clay pointed at Trevor’s pride and joy. “—has all the essentials.”
“I know. It’s awesome, right? I saved for months to get that TV. I’m so spoiled at work. It tore me up to come home to nothing but my fourteen inch laptop screen.” Clay glanced down the narrow hallway. “What’s back there?”
“Bedroom.”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
Trevor backed up a couple of feet and pointed to the opening in the wall to his left. Clay came toward him and peeked in.
“Um, Trev? How in the hell do you accomplish anything in here?”
Trevor sighed and shook his head. “I thought Logan had you potty trained at this point?” Trevor received a play smack up the back of his head for that comment.
“I mean, does your ass even fit on that toilet seat? And if it does, how are your knees not punching holes through the drywall. I’ve seen phone booths bigger than that shower stall.”
“Well, for those of us who aren’t six foot three inches, two hundred plus pounds, everything fits perfectly.” Trevor unslung the strap of his duffle from over his head and dropped it to the floor, pushed past Clay, stepped into the shower stall and danced in a circle. “See?”
Clay laughed and waved his arm. “Come on, Thumbelina. Let’s take you to your princes.”
“I’m gonna tell Matt you said he was a fairy prince.”
“Well, I got the fairy part right,” Clay snorted with laughter.
“You didn’t,” Trevor said, dumfounded.
Clay turned into a bobble-head right before Trevor’s eyes. “Oh yes, I did.”