“Fuck you. I’m breathing. It has nothing to do with it being Simon.” They all knew that was a lie.
He’d been on edge like that the past couple weeks. The closer they got to finishing, the more he worried it wasn’t right...the more he wondered where they would go from there. In reality, he knew his relationship with Simon had nothing to do with him remodeling Simon’s home, but Trevor had also never had someone in his life that he gave a shit about like Simon. It made him start worrying about everything.
He tried to hide it. Of course, Simon noticed him being on edge. For the past six weeks, Trevor had spent almost every night at Simon’s place. The man would have to be dense not to notice, and if there was one thing he knew about Simon, it was that he was a smart man.
Plus, he hadn’t let Simon into the house in a week. It surprised him that Simon listened, but as far as Trevor knew, he hadn’t stepped foot inside. It wasn’t the way things were supposed to go. It could get them in a whole hell of a lot of trouble if there was a problem. Blake didn’t get it, but that’s the way Trevor wanted it and Simon seemed okay with it.
He didn’t tell Simon the day they finished the house. The next morning they got up, went on their run, and then Trevor showered and got ready for work like he always did. When it was time to walk up the hill to the other house, he nodded at the door. “Get your ass up there.”
Simon smiled. “Oh, I’m allowed in my own home again?”
“You are.” Trevor opened the door and they walked together up the hill. The outside wasn’t done. The painters still had to come and finish that up, and the yard needed a serious overhaul, but the inside, Trevor’s part, was done.
“Anything can be fixed if it looks different than you imagined it would. I should have had you come in an approve things close to the end but—”
“You’re worried.” Simon’s brows pulled together.
“I’m a recovering drug and alcohol addict who didn’t go to college, and who just remodeled his doctor-boyfriend’s house. This, building you this home, it’s all I have to give to you. Of course, I’m nervous.” He didn’t like it but it was the truth. Trevor wasn’t a prize. He came with more baggage than most people. In a lot of ways, he would always be a gamble, because recovery was a lifetime thing. Simon not only risked more by being with Trevor than Trevor did by being with him, but he also gave more.
Simon grabbed his hand as they made it to the wraparound porch. “You have a whole hell of a lot more to give than that. Probably more than you know. Show me my house, Trev.”
Trevor led him inside and did just that.
***
Simon couldn’t stop taking it all in—from the built-in bookshelves to the hardwood floors. The open space that, before, had been blocked off by too many walls. It was exactly the place he’d needed when he wanted the house remodeled—a place he would be content, and not have to leave if he didn’t want to.
He wasn’t sure he’d realized that at first but he did now. He’d made it everything he wanted, because this was what he could control.
Trevor showed him his office and library last. He pushed opened the double doors he’d chosen, dark mahogany with designs engrained along the edges, and... Wow. “It’s beautiful, Trevor.” The shelves went floor to ceiling, unlike the ones downstairs. The fireplace was completely gutted and redone to match the dark theme Simon had chosen for the room.
There was one thing in here that wasn’t his, though. None of his belongings or furniture were in the house, but... “How do you know I don’t have one?” He touched the oversized desk. It matched the door, old-world, gorgeous edges, and completely Simon.
“I guess I didn’t. If you do, now you have two.”
Simon looked back and smiled at him. “Even if I had one before, I wouldn’t have two. Only this one.” Because it was Simon, more Simon than anyone else would have known.
And Trevor had given it to him.
“It’s the perfect place to write your book.” Trevor stared at him, those blue eyes of his steely on Simon. It had been a discussion often between them. Trevor asked when he was going to start it, and Simon always had an excuse.
“It is.” He sat on it, and Trevor walked over and stood between his legs.
“I’m a slave driver. You have no excuses now.” He paused and said, “Unless you go back to work.”
Simon closed his eyes. He didn’t want to go there right now. He just wanted to focus on Trevor.
“I have a question for you.”
He’d been on edge like that the past couple weeks. The closer they got to finishing, the more he worried it wasn’t right...the more he wondered where they would go from there. In reality, he knew his relationship with Simon had nothing to do with him remodeling Simon’s home, but Trevor had also never had someone in his life that he gave a shit about like Simon. It made him start worrying about everything.
He tried to hide it. Of course, Simon noticed him being on edge. For the past six weeks, Trevor had spent almost every night at Simon’s place. The man would have to be dense not to notice, and if there was one thing he knew about Simon, it was that he was a smart man.
Plus, he hadn’t let Simon into the house in a week. It surprised him that Simon listened, but as far as Trevor knew, he hadn’t stepped foot inside. It wasn’t the way things were supposed to go. It could get them in a whole hell of a lot of trouble if there was a problem. Blake didn’t get it, but that’s the way Trevor wanted it and Simon seemed okay with it.
He didn’t tell Simon the day they finished the house. The next morning they got up, went on their run, and then Trevor showered and got ready for work like he always did. When it was time to walk up the hill to the other house, he nodded at the door. “Get your ass up there.”
Simon smiled. “Oh, I’m allowed in my own home again?”
“You are.” Trevor opened the door and they walked together up the hill. The outside wasn’t done. The painters still had to come and finish that up, and the yard needed a serious overhaul, but the inside, Trevor’s part, was done.
“Anything can be fixed if it looks different than you imagined it would. I should have had you come in an approve things close to the end but—”
“You’re worried.” Simon’s brows pulled together.
“I’m a recovering drug and alcohol addict who didn’t go to college, and who just remodeled his doctor-boyfriend’s house. This, building you this home, it’s all I have to give to you. Of course, I’m nervous.” He didn’t like it but it was the truth. Trevor wasn’t a prize. He came with more baggage than most people. In a lot of ways, he would always be a gamble, because recovery was a lifetime thing. Simon not only risked more by being with Trevor than Trevor did by being with him, but he also gave more.
Simon grabbed his hand as they made it to the wraparound porch. “You have a whole hell of a lot more to give than that. Probably more than you know. Show me my house, Trev.”
Trevor led him inside and did just that.
***
Simon couldn’t stop taking it all in—from the built-in bookshelves to the hardwood floors. The open space that, before, had been blocked off by too many walls. It was exactly the place he’d needed when he wanted the house remodeled—a place he would be content, and not have to leave if he didn’t want to.
He wasn’t sure he’d realized that at first but he did now. He’d made it everything he wanted, because this was what he could control.
Trevor showed him his office and library last. He pushed opened the double doors he’d chosen, dark mahogany with designs engrained along the edges, and... Wow. “It’s beautiful, Trevor.” The shelves went floor to ceiling, unlike the ones downstairs. The fireplace was completely gutted and redone to match the dark theme Simon had chosen for the room.
There was one thing in here that wasn’t his, though. None of his belongings or furniture were in the house, but... “How do you know I don’t have one?” He touched the oversized desk. It matched the door, old-world, gorgeous edges, and completely Simon.
“I guess I didn’t. If you do, now you have two.”
Simon looked back and smiled at him. “Even if I had one before, I wouldn’t have two. Only this one.” Because it was Simon, more Simon than anyone else would have known.
And Trevor had given it to him.
“It’s the perfect place to write your book.” Trevor stared at him, those blue eyes of his steely on Simon. It had been a discussion often between them. Trevor asked when he was going to start it, and Simon always had an excuse.
“It is.” He sat on it, and Trevor walked over and stood between his legs.
“I’m a slave driver. You have no excuses now.” He paused and said, “Unless you go back to work.”
Simon closed his eyes. He didn’t want to go there right now. He just wanted to focus on Trevor.
“I have a question for you.”
