Chapter Text
"Trevor, knock it off!", demanded Michael, as the aforementioned passed behind him as he reached for a bowl.
"I didn't do anything!", defended Trevor, raising his hands in a peace sign.
"I know what you're thinking! Get away from me or I will break your fucking fingers!", Michael shooed, reaching for the deep bowl as fast as he could to go to the counter.
"Seriously, Mikey, you should relax...", Trevor said in a seemingly innocent tone, leaving his hands behind his back.
Michael snorted under his breath and reached into the drawers for the snack, while Trevor went to the fridge for beer. Whiskey and liquor were totally out of the question because the last time they emptied a bottle between the two of them, they ended up throwing up in the kitchen and on the stairs and cleaning it up the next day, dealing with the hangover, made them more irritable than usual.
"Oh, yeah! This is the good one!", celebrated Trevor as he saw the mark on the bottles.
"I thought you didn't have a preference", Michael commented, closing the snack bag.
"I don't, but I know a good beer when I see one". Trevor took a bottle for himself and left one on the table for Michael. "How much are you short on the damn bills?".
"Not much, I guess", Michael replied. He offered him snacks, but Trevor declined with a shake of his head. "I think I might be a little longer, though", he mumbled.
"And why is that?", asked Trevor, arching an eyebrow and smirking.
"Don't fucking me", Michael sighed, pulling the bowl closer to his chest. He picked up the beer bottle and the instant he was arranging things in his hands to return to the dining room and get on with his business, Trevor moved toward him. Instinctively, Michael gasped, let out a yelp and backed away. Trevor, however, seemed genuinely surprised by his reaction.
"I was just going to grab a pack of pretzels", he said.
"Oh...sure. Whatever".
Michael practically fled into the dining room and was certain he heard his partner's mocking laughter.
It wasn't his fault he was so paranoid. It was all because Trevor found how to put constant psychological pressure on Michael, making Michael feel anxious most of the time. And the worst part was that this went on for days and the fucker still did nothing but hover near Michael, making him nervous and getting the millionaire to look over his shoulder every so often to make sure the other wasn't around.
Michael would still hate himself for being the guy who could unhesitatingly walk into a large building and intentionally set it on fire and then walk back in disguised as a fireman, who could help orchestrate one of the biggest robberies in history and then participate in the elimination of his enemies, but who would flinch if trusted people who knew too much about him walked by behind his back.
Trevor hadn't even had the decency not to drop hints or suggestive comments when they visited or when they went out. At the same time, he was pretty insistent with the same thing all day long. The younger of the two seemed to pick the appropriate times to remind Michael of what he knew.
As Michael put his things down on the dining room table, he noticed that his cell phone wasn't there. Odd, he was sure he hadn't taken it with him.
Cursing under his breath, Michael returned to the kitchen and checked that, sure enough, his cell phone wasn't there either. Impossible, Michael was convinced...
Oh, shit, no, Michael thought, annoyed.
"Hey, Trev", Michael called out to him, sounding as natural as he could.
"What's up?", Trevor asked from the living room.
"Have you seen my cell phone?".
"Hmm, no, I don't think so. But does it by any chance look like the black cell phone that's in here?".
Michael gritted his teeth. Of course he did. Or, well, he didn't know if Trevor did and he didn't want to know either, but God, he loved him..., but he was getting on his nerves.
Michael went into the living room, where Trevor was sitting on the couch, watching an old movie. Apparently, living with Michael could make certain habits rub off on anyone. Sure, Trevor kept labeling them as 'boring' and 'basic', but that didn't stop him from getting hooked every time he saw one.
"Here", Trevor held out the little device. "Be more careful where you leave it. Next time it's sure to be in the recording studio and there, yes, forget about retrieving it".
"Says the guy who lost it three times in one month", Michael reminded him, trying to grab his cell phone.
However, Trevor shot him a warning look and squeezed the object, preventing Michael from taking it from him.
"Be careful, Mikey. I don't think it's smart of you to insult me", he warned, shooting him a mischievous look.
Michael flinched when Trevor dropped the cell phone and backed away on instinct again. Trevor took a swig of his beer and winked cheekily at him.
Walking back to the dining room, Michael felt as if thousands of annoying little bugs were walking around his body. That idiot wouldn't stop bullying him and Michael hated feeling so vulnerable.
He sat down and continued working on the accounts.
However, it was inevitable that Michael wasn't glancing at the dining room entrances every few minutes, thinking that Trevor could show up at any moment. He kept hearing the television and Trevor's laughter over the movie. Michael wanted to finish as soon as possible so he could do something else that didn't include having Trevor stalking his steps.
Almost an hour later, there were only snack scraps left in the bowl and the beer bottle was empty. Michael dropped the pen on the table and rubbed his face. His back ached and he just wanted to lie down.
Without thinking, he walked noiselessly up the stairs, went to the room he currently shared with Trevor and walked so he could lie down on the bed, sprawled on his left side with one arm under the pillow.
He appreciated Solomon and wanted to help him, but having agreed to check the bills and make sure everything was in order was a lousy idea.
Michael closed his eyes.
He wasn't sure if it had been a few seconds, a few minutes or a few hours. When he came to, all he was aware of was the feel of a heavy, calloused hand caressing his back, a weight on his hip and the sensation that the mattress was sagging behind him. Due to the disorientation of being newly awake and the soothing sensation on his back, Michael didn't bother to turn over.
"Did I sleep long?", asked Michael, drowsily.
"Only twenty minutes. The way you were, I was betting you'd take more time".
Michael looked down and noticed that one of Trevor's legs was over his hip.
"It didn't take you long to join me", Michael murmured, waiting for the rest of sleep to leave him.
"What can I say... The room was lonely without you".
Michael smiled slightly. Trevor continued to rub his back gently, so it wouldn't be a surprise if he fell back asleep.
However, the idea was dismissed when Michael felt Trevor move from rubbing his back to sliding his fingernails down his side, down to graze his hip bone, and then bringing them back up to draw small circles on his ribs.
Michael flinched noticeably, which was evident when he heard Trevor chuckle under his breath. Michael wasn't about to show any signs of weakness or pleading, so he used the hand under his pillow to push it against his face. He wanted to try to suppress himself as best he could.
Trevor picked up on his tactic easily. Ever since he learned of Michael's weakness (by accident, of course), Trevor never missed an opportunity to torment him, poking his ribs, grazing one of his sides or his neck. It was fun to watch him jump, squirm or twist away as he wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to protect himself. And more fun it turned out to be to stalk him without doing anything. Trevor realized Michael's fear that he would attack him without warning, when he was off guard and completely calm. And that fear would increase if Trevor joked in front of other acquaintances, since Michael never wanted to show weakness to anyone.
The fact that Michael didn't know when he might be assaulted by Trevor was what amused the latter.
His fingers put pressure on his ribs, causing Michael to move his free arm against his hand, trying to push it away. He didn't say anything, though Trevor didn't know if it was because he kept pressing the pillow against his face or because he didn't want to open his mouth and give in.
Trevor shook his head with a smirk and moved his hand to reach for Michael's neck. The millionaire raised his exposed shoulder in an attempt to protect himself.
Trevor leaned closer and whispered in his ear:
"You know you won't be able to take it, sugartits".
Michael shuddered under touch and breath invading his ear.
"Stop it...", he murmured muffled, barely loosening his grip on the pillow.
Trevor used the leg he had over Michael to roll him over and lay him on his back. Without giving him time to protest, he rolled on top of him and reached under his shirt. Michael, who had abandoned the pillow when he was flipped over, covered his mouth with both hands, refusing to give in to Trevor.
"Hey, don't cover that smile! I want to see it again".
Michael stubbornly shook his head and arched his back as Trevor dug his fingers into both sides of his waist.
"Lehehehehet meehehehe go!", protested Michael, clasping his hands to his face to keep from pulling them away. He tried to lift his hips to throw Trevor off, but Trevor stopped him without much fuss by dropping his weight on top of him.
"Nice try, sweetness", Trevor teased. His fingers reached for Michael's ribs, much to the millionaire's horror, who failed to stop his hands from reaching down and trying to remove Trevor's.
"OH SHIHihihihit! Trevohohohohoor, don't!", shouted Michael, pushing as best he could at his partner's hands.
Trevor removed his hands from under Michael's shirt and grabbed his wrists to hold them crossed above his head. While the two could match each other in physical strength, Trevor had the advantage if he could subdue Michael with one of the techniques he learned in combat. All in all, Michael was helpless under Trevor's clutches.
"No, wait a minute! This isn't fair!", protested Michael, trying to free himself from Trevor's grip.
"When have we ever been fair about anything, Mikey-boy?", asked Trevor, holding Michael's wrists with one hand. Next, he used his free hand to attack one of Michael's sides, digging his fingers in and scratching his ribs.
"FUUHUhuhuuck, StahaHAHAP!".
Michael hit his head against the pillow a couple of times and kept trying to free his arms. He didn't like being tickled, and Trevor knew it. That kind of attack, at the hands of his partner and unable to move at all, made him feel terribly vulnerable.
As a child, he was rarely (if ever) tickled, and as an adult, less so than before. Years ago there were run-ins with some strippers who had fetishes or strange tastes, and Michael a couple of times ended up with fetishists who enjoyed sliding their long claw-like nails up his sides or down his abdomen. The few times it happened served to make Michael sure he didn't like the feeling of feeling exposed or vulnerable, especially in what he considered very childish ways.
He cursed the moment Trevor caught him performing an everyday action when Michael was distractedly putting away his clothes by color (another mania victim of Trevor's teasing).
Michael had been lazily folding his shirts, taking his time to get them folded the way he wanted them. The housekeeper had taken the day and Michael needed to keep his mind on something else. In his moment of distraction, he didn't notice that Trevor had come upstairs nor that he was approaching him with the intention of hugging him. Had it been just the hug, Michael might have been a little surprised, but up to that point, his secret would have remained a secret from Trevor. But no, the Canadian decided to rest his hands on Michael's sides with the idea of pulling him closer to his body. At the sensation that ran up and down him without him expecting it, Michael gasped and pulled his hands away from Trevor, then turned as he took a few steps away and wrapped his arms protectively around his sides.
Trevor's expression went in ten seconds from bewilderment and confusion to understanding and, the inevitable, utter amusement.
"Oh..., I see...", Trevor had said arrogantly.
Michael had felt his cheeks flare red. He knew Trevor wouldn't let his new discovery pass him by, let alone let Michael himself forget it.
On the bed, still pinned down, Michael felt Trevor's fingers move to draw circles over his hip bone. The millionaire arched his back and a wave of laughter mixed with gasps came from his mouth. His hips were particularly sensitive, though not as sensitive as other areas. He was left to hope (hopelessly) that Trevor didn't go for them.
Trevor felt proud that he managed to break him so quickly, without first having to resort to teasing or threats that would end in the same thing as that moment. He was sure Michael would hate him for a good while, but in the meantime, Trevor would take advantage of the fact that he couldn't do anything.
"Aww, you look so cute when you're helpless", Trevor cooed, not ceasing his assault on Michael's hip.
"SHUhuhut UHUhuhup, you bahahastard!", Michael howled each time Trevor plunged his fingers into the area, practically making him convulse.
Trevor clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
"That wasn't nice of you, Mikey", he 'scolded' him. "Looks like I still have some manners to teach you".
Trevor switched places again. This time he rested his hand just above Michael's lower ribs. The millionaire let out gasps and snorts that Trevor found too endearing not to mention and, instinctively, Michael again tried to free his arms and move to the opposite side. Of course, he accomplished neither.
"T-Trevor, come on. you know I hate this!", tried Michael, shuddering at the mere touch.
"Really? You don't look it", Trevor scoffed, scathingly. "You need to laugh more, Mikey."
"I smile all the time!", complained Michael, alternating glances between Trevor and his hand.
"Yeah, but... No".
Without prolonging the inevitable, Trevor focused on attacking Michael's lower ribs, poking and prodding that sensitive area. Michael involuntarily closed his eyes and a wave of desperate laughter filled the room.
"DAHAHAMN IT! DOHOHON'T! TREVOR, COHOHOHOME OON!", bellowed Michael, helpless at the failed attempts to free himself. He didn't know if it was Trevor's strength or if his own had been weakened by the tickling, but what he did know was that he couldn't even pull on his arms. "FUHUHuhUuck, TREHEHEHevohohor, STAHAHAP!", Michael's laughter went up and down like a roller coaster every time Trevor sped up or slowed down his attack.
"I can't believe you're so sensitive!", exclaimed Trevor, almost euphoric. "I don't understand how I didn't notice it sooner! Imagine all the times I would have made your funeral face disappear".
Michael lost track of time under Trevor's torture. He could feel his eyes beginning to fill with tears and his cheeks ached from the wide involuntary smile he formed, just as his arms ached from his frustrated attempts to free himself.
Even though he wasn't looking, Michael felt Trevor, once again, shift in place.
"What could happen here, sugar?", asked Trevor, barely scratching Michael's abdomen.
The millionaire's body tensed violently and a groan of fear escaped his mouth, with such urgency that even Trevor was surprised.
Knowing what could happen to him and seeing that one of his worst places was about to be attacked, Michael momentarily forgot his pride and said a word that practically didn't exist in his vocabulary and that he didn't even mention when the Chinese kidnapped him.
"Wait! Trevor, please...!".
"Wow, now you say 'please'", Trevor scoffed, resting his fingernails on Michael's abdomen. "It must be really bad in here, right, cupcake?".
"T, please, don't do this to me", Michael insisted, too worried about the impending attack to think he was begging. "Let me go...".
Trevor raised his eyebrows several times and without warning, dug his fingers into his partner's abdomen. Michael fell almost immediately into desperate giggles and his strength was just short of being enough to break free of his grip. Again, he was out of luck, as Trevor, who still didn't seem to be cramping, tightened his grip and pushed Michael's wrists against the pillow.
"PLEHEASE! NO MOHOHORE!", bellowed Michael, hiding his face in the crook of his left arm. "OHGAHAHAHAD! TREHEEVOHOHOR!".
"Come on, Mikey, don't hide your smile!".
Seeing that Michael was still hiding his face, Trevor decided to take advantage for one last move. He leaned over Michael's abdomen, rested his lips on the center and blew a raspberry. Michael's laughter stilled for a few seconds and his closed eyes began to shed big tears.
Without Michael being able to help himself, as he took a breath he made the same sound as a piggy. Trevor straightened up and looked at him with amused shock.
"Bullshit... You make that sound?".
Michael's face turned bright red and he tried to hide more with his arm.
"We've known each other for years and I didn't know that?!".
Trevor again dropped a raspberry on Michael's belly, ripping a scream out of him in between his guffaws.
"GEHEHET OHOHOHFF ME! OHFUHUHUCK!", he shouted. Once again, the sound similar to a piggy escaped his mouth, causing Michael to let out a sob of sorts in between his uncontrollable laughter. "OHSHIHIHIT...!".
Trevor finally released his wrists, lay down on top of him and buried his face in his neck. Michael's arms were very weakened, so he could barely move them to rest his hands on Trevor's shoulders; when he tried to push him off, his arms shook and he couldn't even push him away.
Sketching a mischievous grin, Trevor began to nibble on Michael's neck, not having to make any effort to hold him, since the other could barely move.
"Nohohoo... Whyhihihi a-are you dohohihihiing this to me?", mumbled Michael between soft chuckles, clearly exhausted and with some tears of laughter still rolling down his cheeks.
Trevor straightened up to look at him and brushed his tears away before gently squeezing Michael's cheeks to form a small pout on his lips.
"Ooh, poor baby", he cooed, before kissing him.
Michael reciprocated the kiss between nervous giggles, not knowing what Trevor's next move would be. After a few seconds, Trevor parted his lips from Michael's and moved closer to his right ear. He did nothing but breathe on top of it, but what could come next made Michael flinch noticeably.
"Nonono, waihihihit...", he mumbled softly and weakly, though the tremors in his body made up for not being able to speak loudly. "Trev, get off me already...," Michael repeated, panting, out of energy.
"Hey, hey", the Canadian laughed softly, standing up straight, still straddling Michael. He ran a hand through his hair, now long enough that he could pull it back, and stroked one cheek with his thumb a couple of times, soothing him.
Trevor rolled off of Michael, allowing Michael to wrap his arms around himself and roll onto his side, his back to him.
Without hesitation, Trevor draped an arm over Michael's chest and one of his legs over his hip.
Michael couldn't help a groan, thinking and expecting the worst. Having checked Trevor's taste for stalking him and then attacking him, it wouldn't be strange if he decided to do the same thing again.
However, it didn't happen. Michael felt the hand on his chest slide down to his back, go under his shirt, and caress it again as it had a while ago.
Michael exhaled quietly, practically melting under touch. He couldn't help it every time Trevor massaged his back or stroked his hair.
"I'm sorry, I overdid it", Trevor said, with no real remorse. "It's just... you have such a beautiful smile...".
Michael smiled, exhausted.
"Although you don't need to stalk me and torture me to make me laugh", he mentioned quietly.
"Maybe, but where would the fun side of knowing a secret of yours be?".
Michael wanted to keep arguing, but the tired feeling mixed with the tender touches on his back relaxed him too much, getting to the point where he just wanted to sleep. His last trace of will left him when Trevor removed his hand from his back, making him grunt, and began to play with his hair, also adding massages to his scalp.
Trevor lifted up a little so he could kiss Michael's exposed temple.
"Hey, but the other thing... I meant it", he admitted quietly.
"That it's fun to torture me?", asked Michael, sleepily.
"No. The thing about... Your smile..., when you genuinely smile".
Michael smiled, not turning to look at Trevor.
"Does it count as 'really' if you torture me and I can't help it?", Michael snorted.
"You believe me, don't you, Mikey?", he asked, poking him in the ribs.
Michael gasped and wrapped his arms around himself.
Trevor took advantage of the movement to slide his other arm under Michael's body so he could pin his arms. The Canadian then began kissing and nibbling on the back of his neck.
"S-stohohop it", protested Michael, faintly and more sharply than he would have expected.
"Alright, alright", laughed the other, releasing Michael's arms. But he did not pull his own away, but drew Michael in until he almost imprisoned him in an embrace.
Michael rested his hands on Trevor's, as much for the contact as for safety.
"I adore you", Trevor smiled and kissed Michael's head, "I really do".
"I adore you too, Trev".