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beetleblunt · 7 months

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All dolled up

Summary: TRIKEY HURT!!!!

TW: drunk driving?

Words: 1,082

ao3 link

Trevor shifted in his seat, glancing down at his phone to check the time.

8:27

He grimaced, looking around the dimly lit bar for any sign of his so called “date”. Not that Michael really knew it was a date. Trevor had called him last night, asking to meet for drinks at a place much fancier than the two would usually spend their time together.

“Drinks? You’re kidding.” Michael sighed.

“Not in the slightest, sweetheart,” Trevor said, a little too chipper, “c’mon, it’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.” he added more aggressively.

“Actually I do,” Michael griped back, “and I’m tired of gettin’ dragged to whatever dinky little shack you’ll call a bar for the night!”

“Like what?” Trevor laughed, “Chain smoke by the pool? Listen to your wife get porked by the pool boy because she doesn’t even like you enough to let you watch? Besides, it’s a nice place, ya ungrateful fuck.”

“A nice place?” This seemed to pique Michaels interest enough for him to forget the prior insult, “I’d like to see your idea of a nice place.”

Trevor growled, “Oh you will!” he shouted quickly “I’ll send you the address, be there at eight.” with that, he hung up before Michael could protest, or before he could piss him off even more.

Trevors leg started to bounce and he twitched as he waited, thinking about their last phone call. Sure Michael hadn’t said yes, but he didn’t say no either, and he did say he wanted to see his idea of a nice place, did he show up and decide it wasn’t nice enough? it wasn’t the fucking Ritz, but it was a nice club on Vinewood, a change from the small, smoke and violence filled bars the two were used to. As hard as he tried to stay calm, it was useless. The minutes passing by felt like hours, and Trevor was not a patient man.

A server timidly approached the table, hoping to not make eye contact with him. Luckily for her, he was spaced out, his feet propped on the table, fidgeting with the hem of the red dress that barely made it to his mid thigh.

“Sir? Could I.. uh could I get you anything to drink?”she managed, her eyes trained on the blood stained work boots resting atop the table, clearly terrified.

Trevor’s head snapped up at the sound of another voice, and he glared up at her for a second, “Sure. Sure, yeah yeah yeah, whatever” he spat quickly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “ugh, just fucking whiskey, neat. And keep ‘em comin”

As the server scurried off without another word, Trevor stood up, took another strained look around the bar, and then made his way to the bathroom. When he got in, the two men, and the couple making out in there quickly cleared out, and as soon as they did, Trevor pulled his phone from the small purse he’d resigned himself to carrying tonight, given his lack of pockets, and tried to call Michael.

After several rings, Michaels voice came through “You’ve reached Michael De Santa, leave a message.” it said, confidently

Trevor’s grip on his phone tightened, “Heeeey, you fat fucking snaaaake, it’s me!” he began, dragging out his words in a sickeningly sweet tone, one that was specifically designed to incite fear and make his offenders skin crawl. The sweetness in his voice didn’t last, and he said the rest through gritted teeth, “The best friend you’ve left waiting at the bar, either call me back or get here, prick.” he hung up, and tried to call again. After several more tries, and strongly worded voicemails, he gave up, looking at himself in the mirror and sighing loudly. The plan was meant to be simple, ask Mikey out for drinks, take him somewhere nice, show up all dolled up, maybe a handy or two under the table, and ignite something deeper than the rocky friendship they’d been navigating since reuniting. Something like what they had back in North Yankton.

A neat glass of whiskey was waiting in the center of Trevor’s table when he got back. Not even bothering to look around again, he sat down and took a drink, savoring the slight burning in his throat. Soon, his drink was empty, and just as requested, he was brought another.

A few drinks turned into several, and after a while Trevor was looking far more disheveled than usual, slumped down in his chair, with hot silent tears streaming down his face, which was slightly smeared with the lipstick he’d stolen from the drugstore on his way into town. The thin straps of his dress fell off his shoulders a bit ago, and his dress had rode down, allowing more of his hairy chest to peek out. Normally he’d have been kicked out well before this point, but he’d actually been relatively well behaved even without Michaels presence, the most he’d done in the past few hours was hit on a few other patrons who quickly passed him by, and mumble strings of profanities directed at his traitorous friend.

A loud crash suddenly rang through the still busy club. Trevor’s empty glass was now shattered on the floor, and he was making his was towards the exit with a few worried staff on his tail shouting something about bills and damages. A firm hand landed on his shoulder when he passed the door.

“Hey, fruitca-”

Before the bouncer could even finish his insult, Trevor spun on his heel and connected their foreheads with a loud crack, sending the other man crumpling to the ground.

When Trevor finally found his truck, he at least managed to fumble his keys out of his bag and get them into the ignition before everything around him faded to black.

When semi-proper consciousness and sight finally returned to him, all Trevor could see was the shattered remains of his Bodhi’s windshield, and the large, dented, metal gate just ahead of him. Letting his eyes drift shut and his head fall to the steering wheel, he didn’t bother looking up when he heard quick footsteps paired with his best friends broken voice, nor when three more equally worried and irritating voices broke through his haze. He felt too heavy to move, and suddenly wasn’t sure what he’d say even if he could, so instead he let the heavy fog in his mind take his body over yet again.

#this is my first fic #so sorry if it sucks #but i had this idea rottin in my head and i needed to put it SOMEWHERE #gtav #michael de santa #trevorphilip #grand theft auto v #trevor philips #michael gta #trevor gta #michael townley #trevor fanfiction #gta fanfiction #gta v fanfiction #gtav trevor #trikey #trikey gta #trevor x michael #bugs write

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hackettsquarrysummercamp · 2 years

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Gonna start posting what I mod on here too.

#trikey gta #trikey #gta v #gta michael #michael #trevor #gta trevor #gta #trevor gta #michael de santa #michael townley #trevor philips

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meowicule · 11 months

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old man yaoi political compass

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yank-a-ton · 4 months

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My piece for the GTA 2023 Fanzine

#my art #gtav #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #trikey #gta v #gta 5 #gta5 #grand theft auto 5 #grand theft auto

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kixzkix · 27 days

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Bltz play is my favorite mission 🫶

#character art #digital art #fanart #artists on tumblr #gta fanart #gta 5 #gta #gta v #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #trikey

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daekiyu · 3 months

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my contribution to the gta 2023 fanzine!! go check out everyones amazing works!

#daekiyu art #gta 5 #gta #michael de santa #trevor philips #grand theft auto #trikey #t/m #sorry i am so long overdue in posting this AGH

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tivvzz · 3 months

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oooh, let the light in

#sketch #gta 5 #gta v #trevor philips #michael de santa #michael townley #trikey

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its-ratti · 2 months

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#trevor gta #trevor philips #michael townley #michael de santa #gta art #trikey gta #trikey #gta v

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rreskk · 2 months

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NEW MEDIA

A late valentines gift for my girlfriend (I love you ;D). Also inspired by @miranita's latest trikey art from her twitter!! Check her out, talented as Hell! :)))

Summary: The boys decided to try and record their private time together. TW: Smut Pairings: Michael De Santa/ Trevor Philips Word count: 1638

“Are you recording?”

Michael grunted when two hands praised his hardened cock. The other man – preoccupied with lust – sprawled out below him, looking directly into the camera, kneeling on bed with sweat drizzling down his sideburns and scrawny skin.

“Yeah.” Michael whispered back, zooming in with his fingers on the screen. Trevor took this as a signal and started to stroke his boyfriend’s beasty cock that he knows all too well.

The camera flash was on as the full sight was in motion. It captured the way his cock was being warmed and licked around by that nasty tongue of his boyfriend – experiencing hardcore desperation before the recording even started – that he paced around the tip like a desperate dog, panting and panting and panting and whinging.

“You like that, Trev?” Michael took notice, “You love my cock, don’t you, baby?”

Trevor would’ve replied but he was too infatuated by the cock sitting down his hungry throat. He sucked and ignored how much he needed to gag at the thickness of Mikey’s size. It was his favourite part about it, the way it could easily rip him apart in the most dirtiest manner, wanting to feel it bruise him from the inside.

And it excited him more when feeling the flash startle upon his flustered face. Trevor glanced up and made low noises, eyes staring into the lenses, aroused by the idea of being watched; whoever would watch this, probably perverts and whatnot freaks. But he know someone would.

“Oh, yeah…” The voice murmured from the background as Trevor grew more active, his head rocking up and down. Michael grasped onto the collar of his boyfriend’s grey vest, his hand becoming pulsed and deeply veiny from the rough lighting of Trevor’s bedroom. The fingers clenched hard. His knuckles turned white and pressed against Trevor’s chest harshly, encouraging the man to abuse himself on the cock in his mouth.

“Argh – “ Mikey heard him moan.

Before he could have too much fun, he pulled out of Trevor’s mouth and ignored the pathetic cries of his name. The camera captured the saliva on his cock that drooled from the tip to his dark pubes, causing this overstimulation where Michael knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He grunted, moving his boyfriend onto his back dominatingly, removing the vest in the process. By removing, he snatched it instead; with distress and want.

“Fuck me, Mikey.” Trevor whined as his clothes were vanished aggressively. The fabric ripped from his chest and so exposed his complete nakedness, at mercy of Michael who recorded every step so the potential viewers could watch this tough criminal become submissive as a whore.

“Wait for it,” Michael ordered, “Stay on your back. Spread your legs.”

Trevor groaned and arched his spine while positioning his backside to lean upwards, his legs squatted and inviting. His face was snarled but his eyes glistened with mischief and humour. That jester-like man caressed his displayed stomach and waited for further instructions or signals.

Then the camera flash blinded him again and he knew it was coming. Trevor breathed heavily and loudly, small sighs departing from his scarred lips, his whorish mouth feeling empty without Michael’s cock shutting him up. He loved being fucked to the point of numbness. It brought him back fond memories from the younger days – thinking about younger Michael – just how simple yet intense things were. There was a shared spark, and they were trying to bring it back.

“That’s right…” Mikey held the camera and lined himself up. The flash startled his erection which twitched and sat outside Trevor’s anus, the tip rubbing across just to make him squirm.

“Fuck, sugar… C’mon. I’m so ready for you. You want me so bad.” Returned Trevor who tried to grind at every passing opportunity. However, when he tried to insert pleasure, a sharp moan escaped his throat suddenly when Michael slapped his ass, spanking out of discipline for acting up too soon. Like a dog, he was treated… Like a damn dog.

“Stop acting like a brat or you won’t get it.”

“Ohhh…” Trevor sucked in his lips and turned, shoving his face into the duvet sheets to avoid having his pleasure taken from him. All he wanted was a good fuck from Michael. He craved it for too long.

“Good, good,” Michael whispered, pushing in, pushing out; getting comfortable and easy with the sensation, small mewls exiting his throat, “Oh… Fuck, shit. Fuckin’ A…”

It would piece together like a puzzle. As soon as he thrusted into Trevor, they both grunted at the cause. His massive cock forced its way into Trevor’s tight anus but he loved the challenge and pain. He grabbed onto the duvet and cried, even when the fabric suffocated his noises. The camera would stare as he reacted so violently pleased with the physical beating.

Mikey chewed his tongue and grabbed onto Trevor’s hips with one hand, the other zooming the camera close to the younger man’s face. He enjoyed humiliating his fuck-buddy since everyone sees him so intimidating and dangerous. Michael wondered their reactions to seeing Trevor acting like a wrecked puppy. He wondered how good it would feel to degrade Trevor into craving his cock with every second of his life, needing to see his face drenched with tears and cum, voice breaking with begs and worships.

“Yes, yes, yes! I know you have it in you, sugar – fucking fuck me! Ruin me!” Trevor’s voice echoed through his trailer while Michael slammed his palm against his extroverted mouth, silencing him from disturbing the neighbours since it was the early hours of the morning. Trevor’s brows raised at the swift loss of words but soon rolled his eyes back, continuing to moan into his boyfriends hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael hissed and thrusted harder, “Not another damn word. You’re gonna take it, Trev. You’re gonna fucking take it.”

He could then feel that brattish mouth twitch into a smirk, a slimy tongue wickedly licking against his rough palm while his body completely dominated the other by pressing Trevor into the mattress as the cock proceeded further and beyond. The camera changed and focussed on Mikey’s cock eating at his sore anus, pre-cum aiding it’s entrance and exit, the tip reddening by minute.

“Fuck… Mikey…” Trevor’s untouched boner stood straight with a heavy load waiting to burst. It shook helplessly. He tried to comfort himself but Michael slapped his hands away before slapping his cock, recording the whole abuse. The torture gave Trevor a second reason to cry, his face scrunched with agony.

“Don’t.” Was all Michael said.

The duvets creased up more when the pace between them increased horrifically. Trevor’s body mounted up and down, his back torn between sweat and the bedsheets, penis struggling to contain any further fucking like the chump he was. It was swollen and he breathlessly reached for Michael’s arms which held the camera.

“You want them to see?” Mikey teased and zoomed into the mans distressed face.

Trevor growled as cum drooled from his tip. Any more words from his boyfriend’s mouth, and he’ll cum. He knows it.

“Ohhh, what’s this…” His hips shuddered when the camera flashed onto his soon to be cum-painted stomach. Trevor winced when Michael handled his tired cock, squeezing it relentlessly. This released more semen that it all came out in that second. His throat went numb and he moaned pathetically, only to be overpowered by Michael who seemed amused by the easiness of his orgasm, “You can’t help yourself, Trev. Look at you… A fucking mess.”

“Shit, fuck… Sugar…”

“You’re an easy little fuck-toy, baby. All you need is a fucking minute and you’ll cum right away.”

“Mngh – “ Trevor grunted as he was being fucked still.

“Now, now…” Whispered Michael before tossing his boyfriend onto his stomach, them fine shoulder blades tensing and clenching when Trevor had more access to the duvet for support. He gripped onto them, being penetrated harder due to the better position. Mikey caressed the defined muscles on the back in front of them, then leaned forward, placing the camera in front of Trevor with a pillow supporting it.

He now had both hands free, and they directly occupied the neck.

Trevor gasped and stared into the camera as it recorded the blurred background of Michael thrusting with his hands covering that “cut here” tattoo. It felt so raw and deep that Trevor couldn’t help but cum again. It dampened the sheets, his eyes oozing salty tears.

“I love you, I fuckin’ came– “ He struggled to speak.

“Oh yeah?” Michael’s voice appeared faint from the back. He liked showing off his mans beauty when being toyed around, “You came again, baby?”

“Mikey, I love you. Fuck…”

“I know you do.”

Trevor moaned and groaned, “Fuckin’ love you!”

“Keep it together, Trev. Keep it…” Michael winced when he approached that feeling, “Shit…”

Trevor noticed how sloppy the cock was and it was hardened to stone when it bullied his anus repeatedly. It made him excited and he stared into the camera with a tearful smirk, ignoring the hands around his neck, waiting for the moment where his older boyfriend would cum.

“Fuckin’ A…” Mikey breathed shakingly and thrusted one more time before gasping out of pleasure. He buried inside Trevor, leaning forward, his chest grinding his back, leaving a whole load inside the man underneath.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, taking in the anticipation. Trevor had left a puddle of sweat and drool onto the sheets as Michael reached for the camera, showing the future audience one last peek of the anus that was bricked with white cum. His breathing was heavy and he exhaled, stopping the recording, leaving behind a filthy video of their nastiness, haunting the hard-drive into uploading days later.

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bottomtrevor · 1 year

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#invasive questions smh #this is real #gta #trikey #trikey gta #trevor philips #michael townley #michael de santa #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto #grand theft 5

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hwicancallit · 4 months

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HOW ABOUT GTA V x OUTLAST crossover?

Im about a trikey x rickjer THEY HAVE THE SAME DYNAMIC 😶‍🌫️

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beetleblunt · 7 months

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Nowhere to go

Summary: When Michael sees Trevor waiting for him, it brings up old memories, and even older feelings

(Mikeys pov for all dolled up)

TW: mom and dad are fighting again :(

Words: 2,880

ao3 link!

Something in between a sigh and a laugh escaped Michaels lips as he set his phone down and dropped his head, his quiet afternoon by the pool turned bittersweet. It was true that the second he was within Trevor’s immediate vicinity, shit always seemed to hit the fan, but there was still no denying the twinge of excitement in his chest at the thought of seeing his old friend again. The last time they’d met, it had ended in a fight, considerably smaller than the ones that usually landed both men in months long brooding sessions(or benders), but still a fight.

Trevor had mentioned an upcoming score he’d just finished planning, saying he could fit another set of hands into the plan if he tried, but Michael just shook his head, wishing his friend luck, but wanting no part in his schemes. This was just enough to slowly spiral into strings of insults from the both of them before abruptly parting ways.

The next evening, Michael was standing in his side of him and Amanda’s shared closet, buttoning up a charcoal grey suit jacket when she approached him.

“And where are you off to?” she lilted, running a hand along her husbands back.

Things between them had been better lately, not perfect, but better. Michael had been working on another movie with Solomon and staying out of trouble, and Amanda had given up the comforts of coaches and pool boys. The fights hadn’t stopped, but they were few and far between, and even the kids seemed a little happier lately.

“Ah, drinks,” he hesitated, considering lying but deciding against it “with uh, trevor.” Michael held his breath, knowing what this was likely to cause, and he was right. Amanda’s hand halted and she took a step back.

“What the fuck Micheal?” she whispered slowly,

“I know-“ he tried to interrupt

“Oh, you know?” she let out an angry laugh, “No, if you knew, you wouldn’t be letting that fucking psychopath drag us back down!” she said, roughly poking at his chest.

This went on for some time, Amanda shouting continuously, Michael managing to fit a few spaced out, unheard- or just uncared for words between her tirades. Eventually though he snapped, raising his voice above hers, his tone just brutal enough to allow a firm layer of fear to settle in Amanda’s chest, and a tightness to consume her stomach and throat.

“Fuckin’ enough,” he barked “he’s my best fucking friend, Mandy, like it or not, and shit you know what? He’s one of the only people that even listens to me-“

“bullshit!” Amanda cut in,

“Bullshit? Oh, that’s rich!” Michael took a step back now, a short, breathy laugh came from his smirking mouth, “I’m not your fucking therapist, Michael!!” he mocked loudly in a high pitched voice “and god knows the kids picked that one up quick too,” he added, sounding more dejected now.

Amanda opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it, instead just staring up at Michaels teary eyes for a moment before taking a few steps back, and walking away slowly. She always seemed to run off once Micheals rage dampened, even if it was mid-fight. She sure seemed to enjoy getting a reaction out of him when she could see the fire and brimstone in his eyes, but she never quite knew what to do with his sadness- save for kicking him when he’s down- but this time, a guilty look crossed her face before she left him alone.

Micheal took a deep breath, and wiped his eyes dry with his sleeve. He took what was meant to be a quick look in the mirror, but ended up spacing out glaring at his stubble filled cheeks. The thought of shaving crossed his mind, but when he took his phone out and found he was already running more than a few minutes late, he thought against it and made his way out of his bedroom and to his black Obey Tailgater.

Different possibilities and outcomes for the night passed through Micheals head during the short drive, worries of Trevor fighting, harassing, or downright killing some random innocent plagued him. Though somehow, more than anything, he hoped the night wouldn’t end with tensions high.

Finding parking in Downtown Vinewood was never easy, and this fact held up especially tonight. After about twenty minutes of slow laps around the surrounding blocks, Micheal slammed on the gas, speeding towards a spot he seemed to noticed at the same time as another, much bigger, car. By the grace of something, he managed to swerve into the parking spot, just barely avoiding side swiping the nose of the too-late SUV. The other driver honked a couple times before moving on to continue looking. Meanwhile, Micheal sat, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his nerves. He checked his phone and saw that it was a little past 9:00, he was later than he thought, but surely with a little half-hearted groveling, Trevor would be satisfied and forgive him. A few seconds of nervous fidgeting later, and the man was making his way towards the brightly lit up club at the end of the block.

Any confidence Micheal had gained during his brisk walk to the doors quickly drained the second he spotted his best friend waiting at the table. There Trevor sat, clearly impatient, sipping on a dark glass of whiskey, but his knit brow and clenched fist on the table weren’t what stopped Michael in his tracks. It was the little red dress he was sporting, with poorly applied matching lipstick. A heat ran throughout his body at the sight, turning into a chill after a couple seconds of reasoning with himself. He took a few stumbling steps backwards before turning around and running out. His hands shook and his heart was beating as fast as his mind was running as he walked down the now seemingly longer than before sidewalk. Quick flashes of his past, wanting looks and tangled lips flashed over Michaels vision as tears welled up and he stumbled off of the sidewalk, and up to his Tailgater. The second he got in, he dropped his head and banged it gently on the steering wheel a couple times before letting out a choked sob. When he got past the images of his days that were long behind him and could finally think straight, he began to sort through the possibilities. The idea of it being some kind of odd or cruel joke was ruled out quickly, Trevor wasn’t the type to do or say things without meaning them, and besides, Mike was sure he’d seen this happen before, once, back in North Yankton, minus the tight red dress, of course.

Sometime after the second or third score they’d pulled together, Trevor had invited him over, claiming to have something about the last job he wanted to go over, but when Michael walked in, he was led to a dimly lit kitchen that Trevor had converted into a little dining area, with two chairs and a small table topped with candles, wine glasses with what was very clearly just beer in them, and two plates containing slices of a once frozen, now very burnt lasagne. It was only after processing the “romantic” dinner in front of him that he noticed what trevor was wearing, and how genuinely nervous he looked. Never having seen his friend in anything formal outside of the ill-fitting suits they’d worn for one job, he was actually fairly impressed with the white dress shirt and dark blue jeans Trevor was wearing, and later that night, he was even more impressed upon taking it all off for the very first time of many.

Micheal stayed hunched over the steering wheel thinking for a little while longer. Some long buried part of him begged to rush in there, kiss him quickly, softening the angry man before he’d even have time to shout; to say he’s sorry he’s so late, and have a good night with Trevor, just like the old days, but he’d chose to force those feelings down the day he’d decided to kill Michael Townley. There were times back when he still thought trevor was dead, when things got tough with Amanda, he let his mind wander back to the cold nights they’d spent together, a time in his life where he’d felt the warmer than ever; but those days were long gone, now Trevor was back and he wasn’t the same boy who’d vomited at the scent of smoldering brains after sticking a flare gun in a man’s eye. Hell, he wasn’t even the same boy who left his “dying” ex-lover and friend behind to bleed in the snow. He was an undeniable force of terror who could kill with a look, and Michael had put those days behind them. Trevor had not.

With a shaky breath, Michael started the car and backed out, pausing in the street for a moment. He didn’t want to go home and face Amanda about this, he didn’t even know what he’d tell her at this point. As much as he craved the comforts of liquor, he didn’t want to go to a bar, he preferred solitude over anything else- just as he came to this conclusion, a long hooonk yanked him from his thoughts, so he quickly settled on just cruising the crowded streets of Los Santos.

Some time later, Michael was finally pulling back up to the familiar grey gate. He took a while before stepping out of the car, and when he did, Amanda threw opened the stained glass doors dramatically,

“So, how was Trevor then? It’s a surprise to see you back before sunrise.” she said flatly, standing in front of the now closed doors behind her and narrowing her eyes, as if she wasn’t planning on letting him through.

Michael decided that now was an appropriate time to lie, “Oh, good,” he stated carefully, but confidently enough to pass as a truth, “just, no energy for the usual stuff, turned in early.”

“uh-huh” she said slowly, nodding to herself

He now noticed the way she was nervously shuffling and looking behind her, and when he heard the faint sound of footsteps rushing from the living room and glasses clanking, he started to put the pieces together.

“Fuck me..” he muttered to himself, looking away from her and running a hand down his face.

Amanda’s eyes widened, a deer in the headlights, “Mikey, no-“

“DON’T YOU FUCKIN ‘MIKEY, NO’ ME” he roared, “I walked away from fucking everything for you, and again with this shit?” he was quieter now, but still yelling, “Who the fuck is it, huh? Fabian? That fuckin tennis prick? The “cute little gardener” I just hired, huh?” he took an angry step closer, and his voice broke a little more with each man he listed, but just before he could make it to the door to find out for himself, a deafening sound of metal scraping and tires screeching rang throughout the yard, causing Amanda to jump back flat against the doors, and Michael to spin on his heel.

The gate had been half open when Trevor slammed into it, and his red Bodhi was swerved into the outer corner, the front was pretty crumpled, but most of the damage seemed to take to the bent up bottom of the gate and the windshield. Michael wasn’t sure what damages had come from Trevor’s no doubt reckless driving on the way, and what were caused from his crash, but he didn’t dwell on it either.

Everything else left Michaels mind as he rushed towards the truck, who’s wheels were still screeching, a clear sign the driver was either out cold, or too fucked up to notice he’d crashed. As Michael neared the truck, the wheels stopped, and even in the dark, he could see Trevor’s head lower itself to the steering wheel.

“T?” he plead, “T, ba- buddy,” he stuttered, trying not to let his emotions completely drown out the logic he’d worked so hard on lately. The fight between him and amanda had melted away most of the resolve he’d had to seeing Trevor again, but he still knew there had to be a line in their relationship. As Michael opened the door to the Bodhi, his wife finally spoke up from behind him as she got a better look at the man slumped over in the seat. She asked something about his dress that Michael didn’t really pay attention, let alone respond to, his attention was too focused on the man in front of him. When Trevor didn’t even so much as look up at him, or do more than mumble strings of incoherent bullshit, Mikey took it upon himself to get him shifted in the seat so that he could hoist him over his shoulder. When Trevor was settled as comfortably as he could get on the bigger man’s shoulder, he finally turned to face Amanda, and their two kids, who had made their way outside when they’d heard the commotion.

He expected her to have any semblance of concern or compassion for the man who’d he still considered an uncle to their children, or at the very least to ignore him as he passed her. He was wrong. She pushed the kids, who looked more confused than anything, behind her.

“No,” she looked horrified, but somehow not surprised, “he is not welcome in my home, you-“

“My home,” He cut her off, glaring past her at the jacked up pick-up truck in the parking spot to the side house that he’d somehow missed when pulling in. If going out for drinks with Trevor, even despite their complicated history, was all it took for Amanda to start up her cheating habits again- if she’d ever even quit- he knew it would just get messier from here on out.

“Why don’t you take uh, your mystery lover and stay somewhere else tonight? His place, hotel, I don’t care.”

Amanda scoffed “You can’t choose him over your family again!”

“Again??” It was Michaels turn to scoff, “I seem to recall a time when I fuckin’ abandoned him for you!” he started to walk past her, but stopped to look back at her “and I wouldn’t choose anybody over my family, just you.”

With that, Michael made his way inside to go lay Trevor down on the couch so he could get the truck moved and the gate closed. Before he set him down though, for just a second, Mikey let himself be acutely aware of the way Trevor’s coarse skin felt underneath the hand he had placed on the back of his thigh, a brief fluttering in his stomach brought a smile to his rough face. This only lasted for a moment though.

The front door loudly swung open, and Amanda stomped up the stairs behind him; only to start kind of packing, kind of slamming or throwing expensive decor around. By the time she was back downstairs with two large suitcases packed at her sides, Michael was standing in the living room talking to Tracy and Jimmy, and Trevor was laid down on his side, a steady steam of drool soaking into the cushion underneath him. Amanda cleared her throat and looked at the kids expectantly.

Tracy glanced awkwardly between her mom and dad before speaking up, “Um, I’ve got like, dance class and stuff in the morning, so, I’m just gonna…” she trailed off, not wanting to further anger her already seething mother.

Jimmy took a half-step behind his sister, but still cut in before Amanda had a chance to argue “Yeah, and I’m still all partied out and junk from the last time we stayed at a hotel!”

Amanda nodded solemnly, and the two quickly shuffled around their mom and up the stairs, hoping to avoid the rage their father had always taken the brunt of.

Amanda avoided Michaels eyes, scanning the room as she searched for something to say to him. When she didn’t speak up in time, Michael did.

“Fuck, Mandy,” he began quietly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “we were doing so good.”

“Were we?” she demanded

Michael shook his head, “I guess not,” his voice broke again, and tears burned the back of his eyes, another “I guess not.” was all else he could manage.

Amanda grabbed the suitcases and pulled them out behind her, but for the first time that she did this, she wasn’t leaving Michael all alone in that big, would-be-empty, house. This time, he still had his kids, something he was beyond grateful about. Although he was still feeling mildly betrayed about the trick date his friend had tried to set up, he hoped that in the morning he would also have Trevor.

For the first time that night, Michael was calm. He let the feeling wash over him like waves against hot sand as he sat down in the little armchair near the couch with a glass of whiskey in hand, half listening to the mindless television playing quietly in front of him, half to the deep snores of his closest friend, his partner in crime.

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