It was Trevor who ended the call first.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Simon stood outside when Trevor got to his house Monday morning. It was early, still dark, as Simon leaned against the porch waiting.

“Am I late?” Trevor asked as he closed the door to his truck. He knew he wasn’t, but it seemed like an easy thing to say.

“No. Come on.” Simon nodded toward the driveway and the two of them fell into step easily as they made their way toward the road.

“I’m going to get this paved, I think.”  Simon’s arm brushed against Trevor’s as they turned onto the street.

“Of course you are. Wouldn’t want a gravel driveway.”

“Are you trying to say I’m pretentious?” Their breaths alternated; Simon in, Trevor out, Simon out, Trevor in, as their feet beat the asphalt in alternating steps. Clop, clop, clop, clop.

Trevor liked the way they were in-tune with each other, but not. It was as though they made a beat together, a song. “Maybe a little, but that’s okay. I like you anyway.” He nudged Simon’s arm with his, and they continued the rest of their run in mostly silence.

When they got back to Simon’s house, Trevor made a stop at his truck for his bag. They’d agreed that it made the most sense for Trevor to get ready at Simon’s place on the days they ran together.

Trevor would be lying if he didn’t admit that meant they’d also get to play together a little as well. Trevor had Simon and his body on his mind since the other night. It hadn’t been enough. It made him feel...real, if that made any sense. As though he was getting a part of his life back, being with a man, enjoying himself. That’s what Simon gave him—he made Trevor feel like Trevor, when he’d felt like a stranger for far too long. He wasn’t only the recovering addict with Simon.

But then, spending time with Simon made him feel like a whole new person. His head was always clear, when it spent too many years being fucked up. It was a strange combination, feeling familiar, yet foreign in his own body. It didn’t make sense that he felt like both things, but there you had it.

“Want to join me?” Trevor wagged his eyebrows at Simon as he hit the short hallway, on his way to the shower. “It would only be polite of me to thank you properly for the use of your shower.”

Simon reached up and scratched his neck, avoiding eye contact with Trevor. “No...no, that’s okay.”

“Hey.” Trevor took a step toward him. The unsure look Simon gave him didn’t sit well with Trevor. He could let this go. Maybe he should, but that wasn’t really Trevor’s style. “We okay? There’s no pressure here, you know?” His heart sped up, his pulse echoed in his ear. He’d been known to be a little too much for people. Trevor didn’t know when to quit. It was why it had been so easy for him to become an addict. He didn’t want to fuck this up. Didn’t want Blake to be right about this.

Simon dropped his arm and looked at him. “We’re fine. It’s not you. I’m glad you’re here. It’s just a lot to take in. I’m not used to...”

He didn’t get to find out what Simon wasn’t used to. He could tell by the way Simon’s words trailed off that he wouldn’t be continuing. That was okay with Trevor, though, because he was glad to be here too. “I’m going to go. I hope you don’t want to shower after me. I plan on using all your hot water.”

He grinned when Simon laughed.

***

There were a lot of things Simon wasn’t used to. Yes, he’d been with men before, but none of those guys had been people he cared about in any way. They’d been a way to let off steam, a night away from responsibility the same way Simon had been to them.

They’d been sex.

No matter which way he cut it, Trevor would be more because they were friends. Simon spent the majority of his time in denial about a lot of things, but not Trevor. They had a unique friendship. They gave each other something. It was apparent every time they were together. Even if it was just a reprieve from the loneliness. That is what made however things went forward with Trevor, if they moved forward at all, different.

He’d only ever had that with Heather and look how they turned out. Simon didn’t know how to give himself to someone. He didn’t know how to show that he cared. Not really. And maybe he put entirely too much thought into this, and all Trevor was looking for was a way to get off, but it was a lot for Simon to sort through.

Giving a shit about someone was a lot for him to deal with because he didn’t do that in his personal life. He gave that to his patients. He gave them every drop of blood, sweat, heart, and his mind that he could. He wanted to save lives, but he’d never been able to give that to anyone outside of his career.