A Good Sleep
Pairing: Trevor C x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 1800+
Warnings: swearing, a joke about a car crash
A/N: my first attempt at writing in 3 years, do me a favour and please let me know how I did lmao
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Seven goddamn thirty.
You click the B team office closed, arm the lock, and open Twitter as you shoulder open the door to the main office.
“Hey, I’m off now. I’ll pick up those SD cards in the morning - Trevor?”
You don’t see him at first, across the room at his desk, slumped over with his head cradled in his crossed arms. He hadn’t been one hundred percent today, but you didn’t realise it was this bad. The soft snores you hear tell you otherwise. You drop your bag on the couch and tread carefully through the trash pile at the back of the room. “Trev?”
He stirs and mumbles what might be a “what’s up,” but remains facedown in his keyboard.
“Come on, you’re going home right now.” You reach to place your hand on his back, but your stomach flip-flops at the thought, so you settle for the back of his chair. Swaying it lightly, you reach for his mouse to save his work and shut down the computer.
Trevor rouses to swat at your hand clumsily, “S’fine, Y/N, I just- I gotta finish this.” He sits upright and stretches, and you have to bite back a smile at the face he pulls. However, when he slumps backwards into his chair and rubs at his face, you frown at the bags under his eyes. Looking up at you, he gives you a dopey smile, “Is it that bad?”
You open your mouth to kindly object, but Trevor laughs at bit, and you do too. “Yeah, it’s that bad,” you admit. You know you have that stupid kind-of-fond, kind-of-pitiful smirk going on, but you let it stay there. “These emails will be here tomorrow, and you need sleep. So do I. Go home so I can sleep in peace.”
“Ah, well, I wouldn’t want to keep you up at night,” Trevor teases as he stands up.
Heat creeps up your neck and cheeks - oh please, like you don’t already . He yawns and stretches again, and you have to turn away your face as your blush deepens. You’re searching for something to say when he drops his stretch and claps his hands on his thighs.
“Fuck,” he sighs, his shouldered slumped and eyes trained unfocused on the floor.
You smirk again, “Fuck?”
“Yeah,” he smiles at you sheepishly as he collects his stuff from his desk, “Thanks for checking in. I would have been here all night.”
“I’m sure. And it’s no worry.” You regard him as he rubs at his face again, “Are you alright to get home?”
Trevor jingles the keys hooked on one of his fingers.
You laugh. “No. No, you cannot drive like this. Not in this weather.”
“I’ll be fine, I’ll just-”
“Nope. You’re ten minutes from mine. If something happened to you, I’d never sleep again.” You make your way back to the other side of the office, grab your bag from the couch and hold the door for him. “Let’s go.”
You watch him process your words for a beat, then pocket his keys and follow you to the door. “Yes, ma’am.”
The walk to your car is comfortably quiet, albeit the slight drag of Trevor’s feet and the little yawns he tries to stifle. You steal glances at him, disguised as concern as he lags behind you a little through the corridors of Stage 2. You’re unable to help yourself - Trevor is stunning twenty four hours a day seven days a week, but you’ve never seen him so sleepy. His mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes have you blushing for no good reason, and pushing away some persistent thoughts.
Outside, it’s well past dark and freezing, and you both pick up the pace as you dig your keys out of your bag. Your car isn’t far, and Trevor laughs as he moves a plate with the crumbs of this morning’s breakfast from the passenger seat before he climbs in. “Relatable,” he grins at you.
“Gotta do what I gotta do to be on time. Can’t let the boss down.” You flash him a teasing smile, turn on the heating, put your car in gear, and head for the gates.
As you do, Trevor scoffs. “Impossible.” He fiddles with your stereo, and your playlist from this morning quietly fills the silence. “Good stuff,” he murmurs and sinks into his seat, head back and eyes closed to the street lights now passing overhead.
“Big weekend, then?” you query.
He turns his face towards you, eyebrows raised in question. “Hmm?”
“It’s Monday and you’re dead to the world, Trev.”
“Oh,” he laughs, “I, uh, guess I got a little too invested in Hell’s Kitchen reruns last night.”
You look at him incredulously. “One half of me wants to say fair play, the other half wants to say you’re an idiot.”
“Fair play.”
You laugh, a good proper laugh, and Trevor does too, and you feel good - light, and giddy. The laughter is passing when you feel his gaze on you. Still giggling, you tear your eyes from the road to find him watching you with another dopey smile. “What?”
Trevor starts a little, like you’ve interrupted a thought. A beat goes by, and his smile returns. “You’re the prettiest Uber driver I’ve ever had.” He looks pleased with himself for the joke.
Your grin falters for a split second while you internalise the remark. “Mm, good one,” your grin returns, but your knuckles are white where you grip the steering wheel.
“No, really. I, uh, I mean it.” This time when you look at him, his smile is gentle and ernest.
“Oh.” You’re taken aback, and the shade of red you’re sure you’re turning is mortifying, but you glance back at him nonetheless, “Thanks, Trev.”
“Any time.” Trevor says confidently. When you look at him again, he’s staring out the passenger window. It could be the brake lights from the car in front of you, but his cheeks seem to glow just as red your own.
You let him dooze the rest of the way.
With your quiet music and Trevor’s low breathing, you find yourself on autopilot, reliving his words and chewing your lip until swells. Are you overthinking it? Could it really be that simple? Your crush on Trevor had been with you so long it had become more a casual avocation than the pining it had been. Sometimes you thought you’d worked past it - for the better. He’s your boss now, after all.
And now, this. Fuck.
You’re surprised when you find yourself pulling onto Trevor’s street. You shake his shoulder gently, “Where’re we at?”
He rubs the sleep from his face, answering you through a yawn, “Uh, it’s right up here on the left.”
You pull up outside his place, familiar from the time or two you’d visited for game nights. You leave the engine running.
“Well, goddamn, were you right about me not driving home, huh?” Trevor unbuckles himself and gathers his things in his lap. He’s smiling at you, cheeky again.
You hum in mock contemplation. “I’d say you would have been a goner around about the North Loop.”
“Hey now, I would have gotten further than that.”
“Dead meat either way. You were out like a light.” You’re smug, and you can’t help it, “Good thing I’m a good person.”
He opens his door, “You’re an amazing person, actually.” And he’s out on the street and coming around the back of your car before you can get a word in. You’ve barely closed the shocked little ‘o’ on your lips when he’s tapping your window. Cheeks still pink, you wind it down for him.
“An actual saint,” he continues, “I owe you one. Thank you so much, Y/N.”
“My pleasure. The pictures I may have snapped on the way make it all worth it,” you tease. “Very cute.”
He cringes, “Yikes. Did I drool?”
“Just a little.” You grin and lean towards him, against your door.
“How charming of me.” He runs his hand through his hair, a habit you could never look away from. His tired eyes catch the warmth of the streetlight, and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His breath clouded by the frost about his head make you think of a halo - you smile at him softly.
“What?” His smile is nervous.
You almost don’t say it. Instead, you steel yourself, swallow what feels like your heart in your throat, and say brightly, “You’re the prettiest passenger I’ve ever had.”
Trevor’s surprise melts to something softer as he looks at the ground, then back to you, “You’re a dork.” It’s that dopey smile again.
You give an exaggerated shrug, “Yeah, but I’m right, so…”
He laughs. He’s shivering now, even in his coat, and it’s well past eight thirty. You’re about to say goodnight when he speaks.
“Do you want to get lunch together tomorrow?”
“I, uh - like, lunch lunch?”
“Like a date, yeah, if you want.”
Your heart’s in your throat again, beating ten million miles an hour, but somehow you manage to get “I’d love to,” around it.
Trevor laughs with what sounds like a little touch of relief, “That’s that, then.”
“Sure is,” you smile, thankful that you at least sound like you’re not losing your mind. “Hey, go get some sleep. You need it bad”
“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He runs his hand through his hair once more before shoving it back in his pocket and stepping back onto the curb, “Have a good night, Y/N.”
“Back at you!”
You watch him turn and make his way across his front yard. He gets halfway before he stops and turns back, shaking his head.
“You alright?” you call.
“I forgot something.”
You look over your shoulder at your passenger seat, which is empty. “Trev, I think you’ve -”
You turn to lean out your window to him again, but Trevor’s already there, taking your face in his hands and kissing you squarely on the lips. In the moment it takes you to process what’s happening, you feel him start to pull away. Before he can, you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, and place the other on his shoulder, anchoring him right where you need him. You feel his smile against your own and every part of you is humming. You deepen the kiss, until you feel his tongue swipe gently at your bottom lip, and you want to, you so badly want to open your mouth to Trevor, but now’s not the time, so you don’t. You pull yourself away to look up at him. “Was that it?”
He’s breathless and flushed and starry-eyed, a mirror image of yourself. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “That was it.” He strokes your cheek before he takes his hands from your face, and you do the same. For moment, all either of you can do is stare at each other, short of breath and beaming. Trevor takes a step back onto the curb, but his gaze doesn’t leave your face, your dopey smile. “Night, Y/N.”
“Have a good sleep, Trev.”