Damn him.
“Music,” he admits finally. “I got through it by channeling all my pain into writing music. But that was a long time ago.”
Skyler moves closer until he’s standing in front of the bed, looking down at Trevor with so much understanding it almost hurts. “I still think that means something. It means music is something you could never truly give up. It’s a part of you.”
You’re a part of me, Trevor thinks but doesn’t say. Instead, he stands so their chests are only inches apart. With Skyler’s breath ghosting his face, he doesn’t remember what they were fighting about.
When he leans in for a kiss, though, Skyler holds him back. “Not until you say you’ll talk to your publicist. Call your label.”
“My old label,” Trevor reminds him.
“Whatever. Promise me you’ll put it out there that you might be interested in making another album and see what happens. Because I think the world needs to hear your music as much as you need to share it.” Skyler smooths a hand over Trevor’s shoulder and down his back to rest at the bottom of his spine. “I knowI’vealways needed it.”
He should say something equally as eloquent to respond to that, but he says the first thing that comes to his mind, which is, “I really fucking love you.”
“Fuck. I love you too.” Skyler drags him in impossibly closer and kisses him.
They keep kissing until Skyler pushes him onto the bed, helping Trevor scoot up toward the head and crawling on top of him. As Trevor flips them over so Skyler’s the one on his back, he realizes he never promised him. But he makes the promise to himself right then. If he can be brave enough to tell Skyler how he feels after everything that’s happened between them, then he can handle the music industry.
And yes, he misses it. The rush of singing to his fans and hearing them sing his own words back at him.
Although not as much as he missedthis. Having Skyler spread out underneath him, peeling off layers of clothing until there’s nothing between them. Nipping his way across a collarbone, trailing his lips down ribs, elicitingtiny whimpers and moans as he goes. Trevor takes his time admiring Skyler’s body because it’s a literal work of art.
Then he sucks hard on a bit of skin over Skyler’s pelvic bone, and that’s when Skyler starts jerking his hips up, urging Trevor to hurry. Happy to oblige, he grabs the lube out of the nightstand and gets to work opening Skyler up with his fingers. It turns quick and dirty after that, sloppy kisses and a tangle of limbs, and then Trevor pushing inside in one smooth glide.
When he grips the back of Skyler’s thighs and pushes them up toward his chest so he can go deeper, Skyler bends easily. Then Skyler straightens his legs and rests his calves on Trevor’s shoulders, and he’s so flexible that Trevor’s able to lean down far enough to kiss him like this, practically folding him in half.
Thank you, yoga.
Skyler’s heels dig into Trevor’s back when he gets close, keeping Trevor locked in place, and then Skyler clenches tightly around him as he comes hard, shooting ropes all the way up to his chin. As soon as he catches his breath, he starts encouraging Trevor to come too, filthy nonsense like, “Fill me up, mark me from the inside, make me yours,” spilling from his mouth.
Trevor wonders how this man can even be real and how Trevor could possibly be lucky enough to get to have him this way.
Make me yours.
People say the most honest things when they’re either drunk or just after coming their brains out.
And Skyler James wants to behis.
They’re lying in bed afterward, Skyler tucked underneath Trevor’s arm with his head resting on his chest, when Skyler speaks up quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“What?”
Skyler props himself up enough to look at him. “All the stuff I said… Thinking about us toward the end still hurts, but I didn’t mean to imply any of it was actually your fault. Maybe you didn’t say you wanted out. That could have been my own insecurities talking to me.”
Trevor runs a hand over the back of Skyler’s head, playing softly with his hair as he’s forced to think again of all the ways he should have done better. “It doesn’t matter if I said it or not. Either way, I failed you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I was supposed to take care of you.”
“No,” Skyler says, cradling Trevor’s face in one hand, keeping Trevor’s eyes on him. “No,” he repeats more firmly. “We were supposed to take care of each other.”
Those words ease something inside Trevor’s chest. A bit of the guilt, maybe. Because he finally realizes that everything wasn’t all on him. And instead of focusing on all the things he did wrong, he remembers all the ways in which the two of them were so damn right. The way they fit, made sense together, filled in all the gaps the other was missing without even having to try.
And they did take care of each other, didn’t they? They took such good care of each other.
Up until they didn’t.
