Chapter 6 #2
“You think about it,” Jordan said, still smirking, “I’m gonna go piss.”
The moment Jordo was gone, Cam fixed him with his normally friendly, sweet gaze, but there was something sharper in it right now. Sharper and knowing.
“Are you gonna tell me what that was about?” Cam asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Trevor lied.
“Come on,” Cam said, “he’s not going to be gone for that long. I bet he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t wash his hands after he pisses.”
“Gross.”
Cam nodded in agreement. “I’m just saying. You’ve got sixty more seconds. Maybe. Are you hooking up with Lane? Do you want to hook up with Lane?”
Trevor froze. “Uh.”
“Forty-five,” Cam chirped back, still grinning.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only if you’re looking for it, I promise. So did it happen or is this just wishful thinking?”
“Happened. Happening,” Trevor added.
Cam shot him a hard look. “You need to tell Jordan.”
“He doesn’t even . . . like . . . Lane,” Trevor choked out. “He just wants to . . . well, you know.” Do what I’m doing.
“Exactly. But to sit here and not say anything, when he tries to make it happen?” The look on Cam’s face softened, but it was no less effective. “That’s shitty, Trev. Not being a good friend.”
“What if he tells anyone?”
“Is it a secret?” Cam asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s not not a secret,” Trevor blustered. They hadn’t talked about it, and Trevor was hoping that was a conversation for a much later date.
“Tell him.”
Of course that was the moment Jordan reappeared at the table. He probably hadn’t washed his hands. Fucking gross. But that was a subject for another day.
“Tell me what?” Jordan asked, settling back down, picking up his beer.
Cam was probably right, and on top of him probably being right, it would mean that he wouldn’t have to fantasize about wringing Jordan’s neck or psychically send him messages that he really didn’t want Lane after all. That what he really wanted was to leave him to Trevor.
“Uh, about Lane,” Trevor mumbled. “He’s not really . . . uh . . . available right now.”
Jordan looked confused. “He isn’t?”
“No,” Trevor said.
Jordan didn’t look any more enlightened. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Cam sighed, full of resignation. “What Trevor is trying to tell you and can’t get out coherently is that he’s hooking up with Lane.”
Jordan looked floored. So floored that Trevor didn’t know whether he should be offended that this was so shocking Jordan could barely believe it or worried because maybe Jordan did like him, after all, and he’d inadvertently hurt him.
“Are you serious?” Jordan said, pinning Trevor with a look. “You’re hooking up with Lane? That’s the guy you’re hooking up with?”
There was nothing to do but fully admit it and nod, reluctantly.
“You’re fucking serious.” Jordan’s shock melted into triumph. “Fuck, dude, why didn’t you just say so?”
Trevor didn’t know why he hadn’t. Because he hadn’t talked to Lane about whether they were talking about it with teammates, even with friends. Because if he talked about it, then he might have to think about it, and that was a whole can of worms he wasn’t ready to face.
“It’s . . . uh . . .”
“Oh,” Jordan said, nodding. He didn’t look angry, or hurt, even. Just fascinated. There was that at least. “It’s more than hooking up for you.”
“No,” Trevor said quickly. He didn’t like Lane, like that anyway, because that would be insane. He barely felt like he knew Lane, still.
“Kinda seems like it is, bro,” Jordan said. He turned to Cam. “Back me up on this.”
Cam huffed out a breath. “I’m the one who figured out that it was happening at all,” he said. The look he sent Trevor was the softest yet. “Do you want to talk about it or no?”
No, not at all. Which meant he probably should.
“Just it’s . . . unexpected. Unexpected, but good.”
“Could’ve told you that,” Jordan said, rolling his eyes. “Guy looks like he knows what he’s doing. Not me being just a little disappointed you’re gonna get all that expertise.”
“We’ll find you someone,” Cam said, patting him on the arm.
“We better,” Jordan said.
“Why do you think it’s unexpected?” Cam asked.
“I mean, come on. We’re called the demon twins. We’re stepbrothers—”
“Dude, you just got done telling us how you’re not related at all, and you never even lived together. I think it’s safe to say that you’re not really. Not in any way that counts.”
Cam nodded. “As much as it pains me to admit that Jordo is talking sense—”
“Hey,” Jordan interrupted, but he was grinning.
“He is,” Cam finished. “It’s really not that unexpected. You’re attracted to each other, you’re in the same vicinity for the first time. It was kind of inevitable, if you want my opinion.”
Trevor almost wished he hadn’t gotten Cam’s opinion. It should reassure him, but instead it created more questions than answers.
“And, Tee, stop overthinking it, okay?” Jordan said. “You’ve got a hot-as-hell dude in your bed. Enjoy it.”
Trevor flushed.
“You’re assuming I’m not,” Trevor said. Then flushed even harder as he thought about last night.
“And now we know why you two were both absent from the Vault party,” Cam said knowingly.
“Hey,” Jordan said, “you don’t have any room to talk. You and Dawson are still knee-deep in the honeymoon phase. Nate told me he caught you two in the bathroom the other day.”
“We were just kissing!” Cam argued.
“Yeah, okay. Sure. Just kissing.” Jordan smirked.
“We’re not like that,” Trevor said, and even though he felt a little pang somewhere that they weren’t like that, he resolutely ignored it.
For a second, Cam looked like he actually wanted to argue that point, but then he just shrugged, easy. “I’m not gonna apologize that my boyfriend is hot as hell and we’re madly in love.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Man, I don’t even want that. I just want to get laid.”
“Grindr?” Cam suggested.
Jordan let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Trevor let their friendly bickering wash over him as he finished his drink.
They ordered, Cam and Jordan bent over his phone as they tried to set up his profile, Trevor adding some commentary even though he’d never been on an app before—if he was being honest, that sounded like the worst thing, ever—and at some point his phone buzzed.
He was sure it was going to be Lane, sending some pointed message about how long he’d been out, somehow insinuating that he was missing him. Wishing he was coming home soon.
But it wasn’t Lane at all, and Trevor felt a pulse of disappointment. Instead it was Delia, checking in and wondering if he wanted to FaceTime later tonight.
Sure, he texted back, give me an hour.
Hopefully that would be enough time for them to finish and for Jordo to finally finish his Grindr profile.
How hard could it be, anyway?
He and Cam were currently debating which profile picture he should use.
“You pick that one,” Cam argued, “everyone’s just going to think you’re just a great set of abs and a dick.”
“Yeah, and?” Jordan retorted, grinning.
Trevor sighed. “Cam, I think he might want that.”
But Cam still looked dubious. “Don’t you want to actually like the person? For them to like you?”
Yes, Trevor thought to himself, and then had to banish away the annoyingly persistent thought of, but does Lane? He seemed to like him better these days, but maybe that was just a side effect of great orgasms.
“Dude,” Jordo said.
“Fine, okay. Fair. No judgment,” Cam said.
“I mean, a little judgment,” Trevor added.
But Jordan just laughed. “Next time we meet up like this, I’m gonna be full of super hot hookup stories, and you two are gonna be jealous.”
Cam gave him a dubious look that Trevor felt.
But if Jordan wanted that, wanted to believe that he was going to be living it up, getting all the anonymous sex he was looking for, good for him.
They finished up, paid the check, and then after giving both Cam and Jordan hugs and exchanging promises that they’d definitely be doing this again—hopefully without Jordan smugly oversharing every detail of his exploits—Trevor tugged his jacket on and pulled on a hat, low over his ears.
“I’m heading your way,” Jordan said to Trevor.
And that’s right, Jordan lived in the building next to Lane’s.
They went out into the freezing cold wet rain and skirted along the buildings before turning towards to the next building, where they headed down the escalator to the PATH entrance on its basement floor.
Jordan was surprisingly quiet, until Trevor was pushing open the door to the underground system of hallways that crisscrossed downtown Toronto. “Hey,” he said, “I want you to know, seriously no hard feelings.”
“I didn’t think there were any,” Trevor said, worrying suddenly that he’d missed one. That maybe Jordan did like Lane, and Trevor had fucked that up.
“No, really, there aren’t. But I bet it wasn’t easy, sitting there, listening to me talk about him like that,” Jordan said, sounding both awkward and earnest.
And that tracked. Jordan wasn’t earnest about much; it wouldn’t be easy for him to shift into that.
But then, Trevor also knew he was seeing a therapist. Trying to figure his shit out.
Maybe the newfound earnestness was one of those things—though maybe it wasn’t so much new as just uncovered. Revealed, finally.
“No,” Trevor said, “but you didn’t know, so it’s cool. Chill.”
“Good,” Jordan said, nodding.
“And you’re not like . . .” Trevor hesitated. “Not like torn up about it, right?”
Jordan threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, dude, no. Do not worry if I’m all torn up about it. ’Cause I’m not.”
Trevor felt relief. Of course he did. He wasn’t a monster.
He didn’t want Jordan to pine after Lane, when he was unavailable.
But why wouldn’t Jordan be torn up about it?
Shouldn’t he be? Lane was . . . well, Lane was pretty fucking amazing.
Anyone should be at least a little upset they didn’t get him the way Trevor was.