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Trevor was, okay..
It would be bold to say he was uncomfortable in his skin. He loved who he was, loved the fact that he was kind to his friends and knew how to make people laugh.
He loved his eyes, he loved his hair. He loved the scrunched shape his face took when he laughed too hard, loved his voice and his teeth.
So he wasn't uncomfortable, so to say.
It was just that he didn't think he appreciated it as much as he'd appreciate one that was a little… curvier.
He tried not to think about it much, pushed the thought to the same part of his brain that told him ketchup might taste good on olives.
Sometimes, though, he couldn't catch it in time.
He'd find his eyes wandering too much on a woman's body. A thought that, yeah, could be taken as him thinking with his dick. But he knew that wasn't it.
And it wasn't only women, shockingly enough.
He spent a lot of his time in his youth searching Jack's face as well.
The length of his eyelashes, the softness of his face. The fact that he blushed at things far easier than most of the guys he knew. The way he was sensitive and easy spoken.
Jack was a, quote unquote, pretty boy. He'd been labelled it his entire life. It was something he took a little hard, but didn't have room to deny.
Trevor could never figure out the jealousy he felt when the label was placed, though.
He thought maybe it was because it meant Jack would have more girls coming after him. Some kind of jealousy rooted in the gaze of women.
After more than a few hookups, he found that that wasn't quite it either.
Trevor had no trouble picking up girls; why would he hate Jack for it?
He thought, for a fleeting part of his life, that maybe that was lust too.
But as much as he loved Jack, he couldn't make the feeling romantic either.
In the end, he sat with a list of awkward feelings in a box in his heart somewhere. Didn't touch it, didn't think about it. He just left it alone.
Until he didn't.
Well, until Jamie didn't.
Much to Trevor's chagrin, Jamie noticed everything.
He picked up on Trevor's lingering glances and odd comments – “Dude, she's so hot. I wanna, like, wear her skin.” – and made his own conclusions.
They were sitting in their kitchen when, unprompted, Jamie asked him about it.
“Hey, do you ever think you might not be a guy?”
Trevor almost choked on his shake.
Jamie asked it so casually, like he was asking whether or not he wanted tomatoes in his salad and not, well, that.
“What?”
Trevor's voice sounded distant even to his own ears.
Jamie looked up at him, face as soft and welcoming as ever, and Trevor wanted to collapse.
He wasn't stupid, okay? As much as he avoided thinking about it, he'd done a lot of late night googling and searching through random forums.
He knows that the general consensus to envying girls and pretty boys is wanting to be them.
He just didn't let the thought count. Checked it off as ‘Don't show again’ and didn't think about it.
Lately, though, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
His lingering gazes were lasting too long, his comments were coming too close to each other, and he was letting his brain wander more than he should've.
Jamie's face creased a little, a telltale sign of him thinking he might be crossing a line, but he kept talking.
“I don't– you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, okay? I'm just wondering.”
Trevor inhaled, trying to gear himself up for responding.
His immediate reaction was, of course, to sweep it under the rug. Laugh, say no, take Jamie up on the offer to drop it.
But Jamie was looking at him with his big stupid eyes and a patient face and Trevor suddenly couldn't find the words to deny it.
He shrugs at Jamie, not really trusting his brain. Even saying ‘I don't know’ would finish in a thousand word ramble, and he wasn't really sure how much of it he wanted Jamie to hear right now.
“You don't know if you do, or you don't know if you wanna talk about it?”
His voice was gentle, less accusatory than Trevor would expect in a conversation like this.
Trevor ran a hand through his hair, shifting his head to the right in a way he hoped Jamie caught meant ‘the latter.’
He knew the answer to the first part. He knew how he felt, but he didn't think he could bring himself to admit it out loud. He could barely admit it in his head.
Jamie nodded in understanding, catching Trevor's motion as what it was, and walked towards him.
He stopped when he was right in front of him. His hand found Trevor's face, and his thumb followed the lines of his cheekbone.
Trevor melted into it instantly.
“You can talk to me when you're ready, y’know? I won't judge you.”
His voice was somehow softer than usual, and even though he already knew it, Trevor was hit with an overwhelming feeling of safety.
He knew Jamie would stand with him through anything, but hearing him admit it so certainly felt like something else entirely.
Trevor nodded against him, still not trusting his mouth.
Jamie moved his hand, wrapping it around the back of Trevor's head instead, and pulled him into him. Trevor went easily.
His arms found Jamie's waist on instinct, and his head was buried into his shoulder immediately.
Every problem in his life could be fixed with a Jamie hug, he thinks.
Jamie's hugs were firm, solid. One hand cradling his head and the other strongly across his back.
It was the safest place he could ever be.
And yet.
He still couldn't find it in him to answer the question.
It was easy as a concept, as a nice explanation to all of the strange things he felt. But to verbalise it? To welcome all the change and questions that would stem from it? All the comments and backlash he'd get? He couldn't do it.
So he just let himself be held. Let himself feel safe for as long as he could.
As much as his heart knows he wouldn't, there's still a part of his brain convinced that Jamie won't talk to him after he tells him. That he'll be too weirded out to even look at him.
That thought ruins him.
He squeezes Jamie tighter, and Jamie doesn't resist. He lets Trevor do whatever he needs to feel better.
It takes a second, but eventually Trevor releases him, convinces himself he won't fall through the floor without him.
Jamie steps back a little, but remains in his space.
“You okay?”
Trevor shakes his head, but shrugs anyway, “I'll be fine.”
His voice sounds weird, scratchy in places it shouldn't be. It's what he gets for actually shutting his mouth for once.
Jamie bites his lip, clearly debating something, before grabbing Trevor's hand.
He squeezes, once, and keeps him in his grasp.
“I love you, okay? No matter what. No matter who you are, I love you.”
Trevor doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with his mouth slightly agape. Jamie cocks his head slightly.
“Do you get that? I need you to get that.”
Trevor takes in a breath, shutting his eyes slowly.
It is, once again, so intense to hear Jamie admit this so easily.
It feels like, for once in his life, nothing bad will happen. Maybe later, sure. But not here. Not now, not with Jamie.
“I think…” Trevor starts slowly, not opening his eyes.
Jamie, patient as ever, waits. He holds his hand and says nothing.
Trevor forms the words eventually.
“I think you’re right. About– I mean. I think I’m not a guy.”
The words are garbled at the end, and Trevor's trying so hard not to cry over this, but he’s losing the fight.
Jamie squeezes his hand, using his free one to tip Trevor’s head up by his hair. Reluctantly, he opens his eyes.
“That's okay. You’re okay.”
And Trevor cracks.
He falls back into Jamie's arms again, and Jamie catches him like he was expecting it.
He’s not quite sobbing, not yet, but he’s close to it.
And Jamie just holds him through it. Repeats the process from barely five minutes ago on a larger scale.
This is going to suck, there’s no denying it. Whether or not Trevor decides to go public with it, he’s still going to struggle. But at least now he’s not alone.