Craven

Craven stepped off the bus with his duffel tossed over one shoulder. He walked into the terminal and glanced around. He spotted Trevor right off, especially because he stood a good head above everyone else in the place and wore suits like they were his casual clothes. His dark hair was combed back in ordered waves, and his strong jaw was clean-shaven. Trevor was built with broad shoulders and a big chest. His muscled physique put other men to shame, and Craven always liked just looking at him.

As he strolled up, Trevor smiled, revealing even white teeth. He held out a hand, and Craven took it before Trevor drew him in for a hug. The only man he knew who was comfortable hugging another man who wasn’t family, Craven thought. Yet he was straight.

“Hey, buddy,” Trevor said. He touched the ring in Craven’s lip with the tip of his finger sending a zing of desire through Craven. “Another one?”

Craven shrugged and gave a shy smile. “It worked for the look I was going for.”

“Human pin cushion?” Trevor suggested.

He laughed. Trevor teased him, but he’d never judged, not once. He respected Craven’s choices and offered advice only if Craven asked for it. Connie on the other hand was a constant nag.

As they left the bus station walking to Trevor’s car, his friend threw an arm around his shoulders and ruffled his hair. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re safe. You had us worried for a while.”

“I’m a big boy,” Craven responded, but he liked to know Trevor cared. When they were settled in the BMW, he pressed a fist lightly into his stomach. He’d used the last of his money to settle his bills in L.A. He was starving, but he’d already bummed enough off Trevor and didn’t want to be a burden.

To distract himself from the growling in his center, he watched Trevor behind the wheel. His strong hand gripped the leather and maneuvered with precision as he took the highway home. Trevor’s eyes were warm brown, and they lighted just a little when he was excited. They became stormy and dark when he was upset. Connie had said they were like a mood ring which made his ordinary eyes extraordinary. Craven wondered if that’s what made her fall for him back in school. But it hadn’t lasted, because who could put up with Connie for long. Still, when she told him they’d decided to try it again two years ago, he’d stopped calling home.

“So what have you been up to?” Trevor asked. “Is this a visit or you staying a while? How’s the music?”

The weight Craven dealt with from his failure seemed to manifest once again. He couldn’t bear Trevor thinking he was a loser even if he was. “I’m back to stay. I…couldn’t make it in the biz, so I walked away.”

Trevor squeezed his shoulder. “You’re only twenty-eight. You could still—”

“No,” he interrupted. “I’ve been at it since I was seventeen. When is it enough? When do I say I’m not going to be the next big thing? I think if I was ever going to be anything it would be singing in a fucking bar for peanuts. No, I’m done. I thought about it for a long time before I called you. I’m not going back.”

“I’m sorry, man. I know how much you wanted it.”

“Yeah.” Craven put his seat back and relaxed with an arm across his head to block out the sun. Coming back home wouldn’t be so bad. “Maybe I can get a job with you,” he joked.

“Maybe you can.” Trevor smiled. Craven peered at him from under his arm. He caught the look, the one men gave him when they were interested, but then Trevor turned his attention back to road. Must be my imagination, he decided. Trevor snapped his fingers and turned the wheel. “You know I skipped breakfast this morning. How about we stop somewhere?”

“I’m not really hungry,” Craven lied.

“My treat,” Trevor coaxed.

He hesitated. “Okay, fine.”

They were soon sitting across from each other in a booth at an all you can eat joint. Craven could have kissed Trevor for his choice of where to go. He flushed at his thoughts and concentrated on his piled high plate. After they’d each shoveled several forkfuls of food into their mouths and chewed them down, they fell into easy conversation.

“I see you still live and breathe in suits,” Craven teased.

“And you in your ripped jeans and T-shirts,” Trevor countered with a laugh. “We’re as opposite as two men can be.”

Craven glanced down at his favorite shirt which depicted a giant skull and crossbones. A bit stereotypical, but he didn’t care. “Goes with—”

“Let me guess. Goes with ‘the look’?”

Craven shrugged. He discovered a bit of gravy on the side of his hand and stuck his tongue out to lick it. A gasp to his right made him look up and he found a young girl about six or seven staring at him, mesmerized by the ball in his tongue, among other things. He waited for her to run screaming or make some derogatory remark, but instead she broke out into a huge smile and whispered, “Cool.”

Craven chuckled, and the girl’s mother hurried up and grabbed her hand to drag her away. He waved away her embarrassed apology as she left. When he turned back to Trevor it was to find him watching him closely, his expression unreadable.

“I guess you get that a lot,” Trevor said. “By the way you stiffened it seemed like it’s not always positive.”

“Not always. I can’t help how other people feel.” Hell, I can’t help how I feel, he thought. He’d seen the concern in Trevor’s eyes. “Were you serious about helping me get work?”

“Of course. A few people in HR owe me some favors, and I’m not a nobody down there.” Trevor was a manager in the marketing department of his mid-sized firm. “It will probably be something menial though.”

“That’s fine,” Craven told him eagerly. “I just need a paycheck at this point. I’ll even work in the mailroom or shipping or whatever.”

“I’ll try to convince them to let you work in my unit, so you can be close by and I can look out for you. And you can stay with me as long as you like.”

Craven tried not to let the words warm him too much. “Thanks. I’ll pull my fair share of the bills as soon as I can.”

“I know you will, but it’s not a big deal.”

Craven studied his handsome face. “Why do you look out for me so much? You’ve always been there through everything. Is it because of Connie?” He dropped his gaze to the napkin he was shredding between two fingers. “I was fifteen when I met you and you were dating Connie. You were nice to me.”

The simple words he used embarrassed him. He felt like a kid still, looking for the approval of the captain of the football team. Trevor had defended him when a few guys were bullying him, calling him a fag back then. No one questioned Trevor’s manhood because of his status and the fact that he was dating a popular girl, Connie. Maybe he’d done it because it was expected of him—to take care of his girlfriend’s little brother. But Trevor had done other things for him too. He’d gone the extra mile befriending him. There wasn’t a day that went by when Craven didn’t think about Trevor after that.

Trevor finished up his food and pushed his plate away while wiping his mouth. “We hit it off, didn’t we? We’re buddies. You’re only three years younger than I am. Not that much.”

“We don’t even like the same music,” Craven countered. He knew he was digging for something warmer, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“I like your music.”

Craven’s face warmed. “Thanks.”

“You’ve always been quiet,” Trevor said. “Not shy exactly, just not a lot to say. I listen to the words of the songs you compose. You put it in there, don’t you? What you think and feel.”

Craven clenched his hand on the seat beside him. “Shouldn’t we get going, or did you take the day off work?”

The expression on Trevor’s face said he knew what Craven was trying to do. “Are you sure you had enough?”

He patted his belly, and Trevor’s gaze followed his hand. “Y-Yeah, I’m done.” Boy, he was glad for the moment he was sitting down. Why did every look or touch from Trevor excite him? He was surprised the man didn’t already know how he felt about him, but maybe he did know, and he ignored it. That thought cooled Craven down, and he was able to rise without his semi-erection being obvious.

“I took the morning off, but I’ll have to go in this afternoon,” Trevor explained on the way out the door. “I have a few hours yet.”

“Is she home? Did you tell her?”

“She knows you’re coming. I had to tell her that, or she’d really be pissed. But no, she’s not home.”

“Why do you live together?” Craven demanded and then could have bitten his tongue off for sounding like a jealous lover. “Sorry, it’s probably not my business.”

They approached the car from the driver side, and Trevor dropped back a step in the narrow aisle to let Craven pass in front of him. Craven didn’t know how it happened, but they were too close, and his ass brushed Trevor’s crotch as he moved by him. His cock, which had gone down, hardened immediately, and he rushed over to his side of the car. Since Trevor had already unlocked it, Craven jumped in and twisted to search his bag in the back seat. He yanked a Rolling Stone magazine from it and set the glossy pages open on his lap.

Trevor settled in the car beside him and paused. “You okay?”

Craven nodded without looking up. “Yeah, fine.”