“Right.”
The sight of Skyler’s small, perky ass in the briefs isn’t proving any easier on Trevor’s brain.
Skyler looks over his shoulder. “So do you want some?”
“Wh-what?”
Holy hell, what is happening here?
Skyler turns around again. “Do you want me to make eggs?”
Right. Eggs.
“No, pancakes are enough,” Trevor says, desperately trying to sound calmer than he feels. “This is great. Thank you.”
He manages to avoid looking down at Skyler’s crotch this time, but his eyes land on his toned stomach instead. They can’t seem to make it all the way up to his face.
“Are you okay?”
“What?” He shakes his head. “Yes. Fine.”
“Do you need to take Stella out or will she be okay for a bit?”
“If you give her a few slices of banana, she won’t want to go anywhere.”
Skyler makes a face. Which Trevor sees, because he’s actually looking at his face now.Good, this is good.“She eats bananas?”
“She eats everything.”
Calling Stella over, Skyler crouches down with a small piece of banana in his hand. He holds it out to her, and when she eagerly takes it, slobbering over his fingers in the process, he laughs. He feeds her another piece, then goes to the sink to wash his hands.
“Should I make coffee?” Trevor asks, because having a task might be helpful right now.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
Great.
Coffee.
Pancakes.
He can do this.
If Skyler’s not going to mention last night, then Trevor’s not either. And yes, he recognizes this as Skyler giving him an easy out, but he’s too pathetic not to take it.
He fixes Skyler a cup of coffee and sets it on the counter beside the stove for him, then sits at the breakfast bar with his own cup while he watches Skyler cook. If they were still together, he would go stand right behind him. Press his thumbs into the indents of Skyler’s lower back, make him let out one of his soft, pleased sighs that used to be reserved only for Trevor.
But they’re not together.
So Trevor just stares. Gets his fill while Skyler’s back is turned, and tries to convince himself he can live without the rest.
He hasn’t been very successful by the time Skyler finishes with their breakfast.
Skyler slides a plate of pancakes onto the counter for him before going back to get himself a plate. But after setting it down, he pauses, looking from the food to Trevor, and then down at the floor. He runs a hand through his tangled hair, only making it worse. “I should put on some clothes, sorry. I didn’t expect you to wake up so early. I’ll be right back.”
When he rushes off to get dressed, Trevor wants to beg him not to, but he knows that’s absolutely the wrong response. And once Skyler comes back wearing dark gray sweatpants and a baggy Rolling Stones T-shirt, half his hair pulled back in a ponytail, Trevor has a slightly easier time focusing.
But only slightly, because seeing him in the relaxed, morning outfit is almost as devastating as seeing him in his tightest, most revealing clothing. In a way, it’s worse, because it reminds Trevor of every relaxed morning they ever spent together. But it’s easier to handle than Skyler in his fucking underwear, that’s for sure.
