His mind races, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for what he was doing—he needs an extra blanket, he was wondering where Skyler kept the sugar so he could make a cup of tea, the house is on fire.
But then Skyler asks, “Do you want to come in?”
He shakes his head. “Oh no, it’s fine, I’m sorry. I—”
“Trev,” Skyler’s soft voice cuts him off. “It’s okay.”
And then Skyler does something Trevor isn’t emotionally prepared for. He reaches out, takes Trevor’s hand, and gently pulls him over the threshold.
Trevor wakes up inSkyler’s bed, feeling more well-rested than he has in a long time.
Nothing happened. He remembers standing there stunned, right inside of Skyler’s bedroom door, while Skyler walked over to the bed and crawled in on one side before holding up the blanket on the other as a silent invitation. Trevor didn’t need it verbalized—he just had a difficult time getting his feet to work.
Then Skyler said, “Come on, get in,” and Trevor’s body obeyed.
They didn’t say anything else. He remembers lying on his back, staring at the ceiling again, until the mattress shifted with Skyler rolling over onto his side to face him. He didn’t put his head on Trevor’s chest like Trevor found himself hoping he would, but he laid it down on the pillow close enough for his breath to ghost Trevor’s neck. Then, ever so slowly, Skyler moved his hand until it rested, feather-light, on Trevor’s hip. Trevor had taken a deep breath and placed his hand over Skyler’s, silently requesting a more solid touch.
And that’s the last thing he remembers, because after that, sleep came easily.
Now Skyler’s no longer in bed with him.
And that’s okay. That’s fine. It is.
Because waking up in bed together would have probably been seventeen kinds of awkward. Eighteen kinds, if Trevor’s body had acted on muscle memory and rolled over to kiss Skyler as soon as he woke up.
So yeah. This is better.
He slowly gets out of bed and stretches before setting off to look for Skyler. The door to the guest room is open when he passes it and Stella’s not in there. He expects to find Skyler in the kitchen, making the breakfast Trevor was promised, possibly with Stella lying at his feet, waiting for scraps. But no.
Instead he finds Skyler in his yoga room. He’s sitting cross-legged on a mat, facing the cracked open door, eyes closed. His hands are placed palms up over his knees, with his thumbs and index fingers pressed together. Trevor marvels at how peaceful he looks. And at the sight of Stella lying beside him, half on the mat and half off, her chin resting on his thigh, looking equally as peaceful.
Trevor should leave and wait for him to finish. But instead he remains transfixed, standing in the doorway until Skyler surprises him by asking, “Are you hungry?” without even opening his eyes.
“Uh.” He shakes his head, even though Skyler can’t see it. Or maybe he can. Who knows what kind of magical powers this man has. “No, I can wait.”
Skyler opens his eyes then, while Stella continues to play dead. “I’m done.”
“Well. Okay then. Breakfast sounds great.” It sounds like a fantasy actually. Like something wonderful he once had but never expected to have again.
Skyler glances down at Stella. “I wish I didn’t have to disturb her.”
Trevor scoffs. “Screw that. Wake her lazy ass up. I’m hungry.”
“I thought you said you could wait for breakfast,” Skyler says, smirking at him.
“I lied.”
“Lying’s not very nice, you know.”
“You’re the one who’s not nice, promising me breakfast and then making me wait for it as I stand here withering away.” Trevor might be masking his nerves with humor, but hopefully Skyler won’t pick up on that.
Skyler gives him an unimpressed look. Trevor raises a challenging eyebrow. Then Skyler lets out a crack of laughter that startles Stella awake.
Skyler gets up and pats the side of his leg for Stella to follow him. As if she wouldn’t follow him anywhere. “I already let her out in the back for a minute earlier,” he says as they head to the kitchen. “But I thought we could take her for a W-A-L-K along the property later.”
“You don’t have to spell out walk,” Trevor tells him. “She’s the laziest German Shepard to ever exist. She only bugs me to go out when she really needs to go, otherwise she couldn’t care less. If I make her go, she’ll get excited once we’re out and moving, but if I leave her alone, she’s perfectly content with staying inside napping all day.”
Skyler chuckles. “Sounds like a sweet life.”
