Bruised (A GTA 5 Trevor Philips FanFiction)

Taming the Beast

As well as I could read Trevor, you'd think we'd been together longer than two months. But, as I told Ron earlier, as soon as Trevor had his fill with dinner, he sat down next to me on the couch, draped a muscled arm about my shoulders, looked Ron dead in the eye and bluntly remarked, "Get the fuck out, Ron. I'll call you when I need you."  I was still eating my freshly warmed slices from the plate on my lap and cast a subtle look at Ron, who immediately nodded in reply.

"Sure thing, T!", he obediently stated and practically flew out the trailer door, slamming it behind him.  He'd even abandoned the plate of half-eaten pizza he'd served himself. Oh, to be a fly on Ron's wall when he entered his home to entertain Cathy.

I didn't realize I'd been openly smiling to myself until Trevor said, "Well, you seem cheery, dollface. Good smoke session with Franklin?"

I nodded as I bit into my slice of the pepperoni pizza. "You know Franklin", I replied between bites. "Giving me shit about us being together. In jest, of course", I hastily added when I saw Trevor's face becoming more serious. "He says he can see how much happier you've been lately. All thanks to the magic that is me."

"Magic, indeed", he murmured, nuzzling his face into the side of my neck. "Hurry up and finish eating. I've been waiting to fuck around with you for way too long." He wound a strand of my dark hair around his finger, his eyes wistfully scanning up and down the details of my face.

"Your libido is impressive, my love" I told Trevor, turning to plant a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek. Instead, he quickly turned his head so it landed on his lips and I could feel him smiling into the kiss when he did. "And don't rush me", I playfully ordered when I turned my attention back to my plate. "After that fucked up video you sent me, it's a wonder I can eat at all right now."

He sighed and pulled away from me a bit, removing the arm he had draped over me and leaning forward on the couch, resting his arms over his lap. It seems I'd found a topic that actually suppressed his raging sexual urges. "Yeah, that was one clusterfuck of a scene", he agreed, clasping his hands together to crack his knuckles. As he did, I noted the tattoos on both of his scarred hands: a fly on his left one, a scorpion on his right. I wondered if that was how he occasionally viewed us - the scorpion pouncing on the unsuspecting fly. And, if so, which was which? I'm positive if I'd asked, he'd assuredly say he were the scorpion. But at times like these, when I was forced to keep something from him, the roles could aptly be reversed and I'd become the scorpion delivering a stinging pain of deceit. Now felt as good a time as any to delve into the topic of his fascination with Bruise.

"You know, T", I began in what I hoped was a casual manner, "I really think you should reconsider this whole cracking the Bruise recipe thing." His annoyance was physically visible as he rose to his feet and began pacing from the kitchen area and back towards the room we shared. I knew I was treading on very thin ice.

"Didn't we already discuss this?" he asked, making no attempt to mask his rising anger.

"You did", I coldly responded. I picked off a piece of pepperoni to savor before I continued. "Seemed like a pretty one-sided conversation, though. Trevor's gonna do what Trevor's gonna fucking do - I get that. I just wish you could see the bigger picture here."

"What bigger picture? The fact I'll have the best shit around with pretty much no competition? Or that I'll be raking in more dough than I know what to do with?"

I shook my head in stunned disbelief. "Wow...you really don't get it, do you?"

"Oh, I fucking get it", he hissed, moving closer to look down at me in his menacing manner. "'People have died from this! They lost complete control of their minds and bodies!'", he raised his voice in a mocking imitation of me, and I angrily curled my fingers into a fist under the plate I had over my lap, my nails digging into the palm of my hand so hard I was sure they'd shed some blood. Fuck, he really knew how to get under my skin. "And like I told you before", he went on in his normal, gruff tone, "Everyone can choose to do whatever they wanna fucking do to themselves. I'm not a goddamn babysitter. I don't fucking care. Why should you?"