Chapter Text
The warm air whipped at your face as you coasted through Sandy Shores, motorbike engine purring between your thighs. It had been a rough day, having had to deal with dumb-ass bikers for the majority of it, but it was money right? Dumb-ass bikers always want dumb-ass tattoos and that's how you paid your bills. Not exactly what you had envisioned for yourself before moving out to Los Santos, but it allowed you certain freedoms. You were just sick of hardly ever having the chance to meet someone you were genuinely interested in - someone that you wanted to engage with.
Noting your mind had drifted, you snapped back to the open road, luminous sign of the Yellow Jack Inn growing ever closer. The thought of a cold beer had been tormenting you all afternoon and it was so close you could almost taste it. As you turned into the parking lot, you cut the engine, wheeling your bike into a vacant bay and setting down the kick stand. Swinging your leg over and off your faithful steed, you ran your hands down your thighs which were aching slightly.
Stood outside the Yellow Jack, your face is illuminated by the various coloured neons - a stark contrast with the deep blue void of the desert night. You reach within your leather jacket, fingers fumbling within the lining in search of your cigarette carton. Grasping at it you bring it before you, flipping open the little box of calm, drawing in a steady breath in anticipation. You drew out a cigarette and allow it to rest gently between your lips, while rummaging through your various pockets for - -
"Need a light cupcake?"
Before you even have chance to assess the origin of this borderline predatory growl, a lighter is held out in offering before your face. Your eyes trail up the large tattooed fingers and scabbed hand, travelling up the muscular arm and onto broad shoulders, before finally reaching the stranger's face. He's wearing a lopsided grin which contrasts harshly against thick eyebrows knitted into a scowl. Scratch borderline predatory; this guy is straight up looking at your like you're his next meal. Yet despite that, his deep brown eyes, wild thinning hair and the various small but deep scars that adorn his face intrigue you. You always were a glutton for the questionably sane and reckless. You held your palm outstretched.
"Sure, thanks," trying to sound as disinterested as possible.
Although your intrigue has been ignited, you didn't want to let him think as such. You had made that mistake before, many lifetimes over, and had since attempted to keep your walls up to some extent. That being said, a part of you wanted to engage in seducing and being seduced.
"So what's a gorgeous piece of ass like you doing in a shithole like this?", he grins as you spark your cigarette.
You can feel the corners of your mouth twist to mimic him.
"Just blowing off some steam after a hard day's work."
You take a long drag and exhale, releasing the smoke swirling into the night air, watching as the stranger does the same.
"Well seeing as you're here, how 'bout I buy you a drink?", he says with a gravelly voice, as you note he has a slight Canadian accent.
He gives off a wild vibe and you're entertaining the idea of accepting the man's offer before he leans into the wall close to you, bracing himself on it with one arm as he dips his head down a little towards your face, awaiting your response with that smile. It's just a drink, you tell yourself, willfully ignoring the faint flips your stomach is doing as he's close enough to have breached what would regularly be your comfort zone. You run a hand over your scalp and down your neck as you smile up at him.
"But you haven't even told me your name yet."
"I'm Trevor, sweetness, but you can call me T. Now what I gotta do to get ya to let me buy you a drink?".
It's thrown you a little that he hasn't asked your name but you suppose it's unimportant. You're quite happy to accept his various pet names and besides, you're stalling on a reply. You lean one shoulder on the wall in mirror to his confidence and respond.
"Answer me this; are you always this friendly?" you tease.
His expression falters and he stalls, only by a split second, but you catch it.
"Only to people I like the look of. You seem like you can handle yourself and I like that in a woman. Someone that bites back." He raises one eyebrow as his eyes lock on to yours with a certain fierceness, before asking, "I'm right aren't I? You've got that fire in you, like a wildcat. The kind that makes for iiiiinteresting company."
You take another drag, this time allowing the smoke to simply seep out of your parted lips as you inhale it deeply through your nostrils. Placing your hand on your hip as you angle your stance you probe further.
"And is that what you're offering? Interesting company?"
"Sure is sugar." he quips back, "Now how about that drink?"
He circles around you, heading towards the battered door of the inn. It's certainly been a while since you had interesting company so you nod.
"Yeah, I'm game. Trevor..."
You allow his name to linger on your lips, purposefully indicating your curiosity as to where the night might lead. His eyebrows are still furrowed as he smiles, stepping into the dim glow of the Yellow Jack while holding the door for you. As you keep pace with him, you both approach the bartender, before she snaps her head towards him and locks on with an irritated glare.
She opens her mouth to bark, "Get the fuck out Trevor, you're still banned!"
You turn slightly, peering up at him as he defends his position.
"Whoa, whoa, come on now. Can't a guy and his lovely lady friend crack a couple of beers after a long day?"
You run the various scenarios through your mind as you try to imagine why he may have been barred, but the Landlady answers your internal question for you -
"You broke my husband's teeth, you piece of shit! I outta call the cops on you!"
Trevor is becoming all the more animated as the tension grows, seemingly excited by the whole thing, while also attempting to wear a softer smile feigning his innocence.
"Yeah but as I recall, you got yourself a new husband since then. I just want two of your finest Pißwasswers for me and my lady, and we'll go skulk quietly in the back, well out of your way. Scout's honor, I swear." He holds up his fingers in the scout salute mockingly, forcing his best attempt at smiling sweetly.
He looks ridiculous. You can't help but laugh into your hand - a juxtaposition of politeness from such a savage looking man who apparently smashed another man's mouth in tickles you, the weird fucking sadist that you are.
The Landlady looks decidedly less impressed, but crossing her arms in defeat she caves.
"That's not the point, asshole! And fine, but if I get a whiff of trouble from either of ya, you're both banned."
Trevor smiles and offers up a crumpled twenty bill, before taking the two iced bottles and some change from her, then heads towards a small booth in the back of the bar. You say thanks and follow him, the confrontation having energised you. It's like electricity under your skin. You needed this. It makes you feel alive. As you shuffle into the booth, Trevor hands over your beer.
"Cheers, asshole", you snigger.
"See I knew there was something about you baby," he winks, "I love when a pretty girl talks dirty."
You're acutely aware the effect his demeanour is having on you and take a swig of beer to quell the growing feeling of falling into the abyss. Such a sucker for punishment. He starts up again, grin ever present.
"So you said you work out here, but how come I've never seen you around? Sandy Shores ain't exactly a big place."
You shrug off your leather jacket and stuff it into the corner, exposing your tattoos, and catch him eyeing them up with interest.
"Oh I mainly do private work, you know just travelling to where the pay is", you explain.
He nods in acknowledgement, "Yeah I get that, I sorta do the same. You hole up round here though when you're not working?"
"Yeah I've got a trailer near by. Living that good life, you know?" you chuckle. He seems fixated on you as you elaborate,"I came over to the States from England about a year ago. Been out here trying to make a name for myself as a tattoo artist but it's hard to get set up in a shop. That's why I travel around to wherever the clients are."
He's no longer grinning like an idiot, but seems genuinely interested in drinking in your words, as though he's eager for any tidbit of information he can glean from you.
"Fuckin' A! That's respectable", he says happily as he raises his bottle and drinks sloppily.
Some of his beer trickles down his chin, but he's quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand. It's your turn to grin at him this time.
You laugh, "And what about you? You look like you're more than capable of handling a shitstorm. What's the deal?"
Just like that the menacing predator-stalking-its-prey look is back.
"I'm a serious business man of many talents," he growls, seeming genuinely proud of this declaration. "But hey, I'm pretty sure there's plenty we could be talking about other than business. Like that dirty mouth of yours..."
You can't help the blush that slowly creeps across your face. It's something that's always annoyed you, betraying you in your moments of weakness and it unfortunately doesn't go unnoticed by Trevor. In fact, the way his face lights up and his eyes glint dangerously, you were almost certain he was enthralled by the effect he was having on you. One hand still on his beer, he slides the other under the table. Slowly his large hands make contact with your knee, then start to creep upwards before resting atop your thigh. He squeezes firmly, then rubbing softly before confessing, "Normally darlin' I'd have tried to fuck your brains out before we even stepped foot in here, right there in the parking lot, but you're made of something different. Not like most the pricks round here. For starters, you didn't tell me to get fucked the moment I opened my mouth," he chuckled to himself.
Thinking of how best to phrase your answer, you draw a cigarette and light it, then take a swig of beer. Your eyes sweep over him, drinking him in; grubby white t-shirt, strong jawline accented by dark sand-paper stubble, an enticing shit-eating grin that won't quit. You don't have a type per se, other than guys who look like they can do some damage. Somewhere in your messed up little head, the dangerous looking ones were deemed the prize. You relax your mouth into the sexiest smile you can muster while motioning for him to lean in closer. Moving up to speak softly into his ear, you utter the words that from this moment onwards will stoke the fires of obsession in this wretch of a man.
"Well, T, I have a soft spot for bastards like you."
His mouth hangs open slightly as he processes. You lean back in your seat, inhaling the last of your cigarette, hand moving towards the ashtray to stub it out - quick as anything, he grabs your hand and presses the embers of your cigarette into his arm, hissing through his teeth. Your eyes are wide, not knowing quite where your brain lands between being taken aback and aroused. Arousal wins out and takes over you, as you find yourself moving your leg between his thighs, threatening to press against his dick. His public display of masochism heats your core, to the point of feeling your pants growing slick with your juices. Roughly downing the rest of his beer, he snarls at you.
"Finish your fucking drink, we're going outside for a smoke."
You obey, the cold hitting the back of your throat, grabbing your jacket as he leads you out of the booth by your wrist roughly.
Stepping out into the lot he leads you around the corner, to a big beast of a truck and wastes no time pushing you up against the door. He looks almost angry but you don't back down, glaring at him, attempting to match his fury. Planting one hand on the truck next to your head, he runs the other from your hip to your ribs. Thumbing over your curves and gripping your side roughly he breathes raggedly, words spilling out almost threateningly.
"You sure you know what you're saying little lady? You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"
At the beginning of the night you had mused somewhat about keeping your walls up, yet here you are all but laid bare before a man you only just met. It was magnetic and it stirred something real within you. You didn't care right now about that nagging little self-preserving voice within you. Reaching up to slide your hand up and round his neck, while the other slid up his body you answered him.
"I want you. I want you so bad right now, but I want to get to know you more."
A brief flash of panic showed across his face, even up against the truck in the dark, but he concealed it just as quickly as it had appeared. The hand on his truck moved to your neck as his thumb traced your jaw. He looked as though he was going to say something, but as he pulled your body closer he crashed his lips upon your own in frantic need instead. You just about melted in his hands. Moving a hand up the back of his neck and through his dark hair, grabbing and twisting your fingers elicitited a small grunt from him. In response he nipped at your bottom lip with pure lust, as your other hand snaked its way to grab his ass as you pulled his hips to your own, working the motion into a rhythm - the moans you both made cut through the otherwise silent lot and the prospect of being seen only fuelled your want so badly. Feeling him harden, you alter the angle of your hips, trying desperately to seek relief for your little bundle of nerves. Fever having fully overcome you, you use your grip on him to push him so his back is the against the truck. You run an open palm up the inside of his thigh, stopping just short of the tent in his jeans, while he forces his tongue into your eager mouth. You can't remember the last time you'd felt something like this and were fully revelling in the moment. Dragging your nails up his side and digging them in, wanting to mark him up provoked him to grab at your ass roughly, before pulling you away from his lips, apparently needing to breathe. Saddened at the loss of contact with his mouth, you became suddenly aware of how needy you were right now and snapped back to reality for a moment - a moment was all you needed to attend to the rational part of your brain. You wanted him, but you want to hold off on fucking. For now at least. He attempted to bring you back to his hungry kiss, but you pull your head away and place a hand on his chest. It was warm, almost burning to the touch and you could feel his heart thumping hard within his chest. Looking up into his eyes, he seemed genuinely disappointed, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off.
"T I want nothing more than to fuck like animals - "
It was his turn to cut you short.
"But you realised you've made a drunken mistake right?" he snapped.
You laughed at him while still enjoying your hands on his toned yet battle-scarred body. For an older guy he was in pretty good shape, but you were a little distracted by his petulance.
"The fuck you take me for? I had a single fucking beer, I'm not drunk, you prick," you said while smiling up at him. "I just have work early in the morning, I need to get some sleep."
His expression softens slightly but is still notably wary.
"If it's energy you need I've got some speed. Don't need sleep then, baby doll."
"As tempting an offer as that is, I take my work seriously. I have to have my head on straight. Tell you what, give me your number and I'll ring you when I get a day off?"
He still sounds sulky but he's smirking weakly.
"Sure, 'give me your number', never to be seen again right?" he makes air quotes with his fingers mockingly, "You're nothing but a little cock-teasing bitch."
This annoys you as you know your intentions to be true. The nights emotions are still surging through you as you snap.
"Look dick head, if it'll make you feel better I'll let you give me a ride home, so long as you put my bike in the truck bed. That way you know where I live right?"
You scowl at him but your words seem to have calmed him a little. He releases his grip on you and stomps round to the back of the truck, opening the tailgate. Wheeling your bike over, he grabs the frame and with a grunt lays it on a stained tarp in the bed. He snaps the tailgate shut and reaches for your lower back, pulling you in again for a rough, demanding kiss.
"Jump in", he growls against your neck.
You oblige, heaving yourself up to the high seat. Rummaging around in your jacket pockets for a scrap of paper and a pen, but all you managed to find is a crumpled five dollar bill and an eyeliner pencil. Sighing, you know it'll have to do. You scribble your number and sign it with a kiss, before stuffing it in T's hand.
"There you go, idiot."
Smiling he asks, "So where am I driving?"
-
After setting your bike down in front of your trailer, he looks more relaxed. Perhaps stupidly on your part, seeing as you don't quite understand the extent to which this definitely rough and potentially dangerous man operates within the confines of sanity, the fact you had trusted him with your home address apparently settled him. He reached to grab at your ass again, holding you close as you savour the taste of each other. One hand on his chest again, you reach the other up to his jaw as you grab his face with need.
"It's been fun, T. I'll hit you up when I'm free and we'll have to hang out ok?"
He grunts in agreement, "Sure, sugartits. Be more fun if we were banging right now, but I'll hold you to your word."
His truck roars into life and tears down the road as you head inside, your head swimming with details of the night's chance encounter. It'll likely be a while before your brain quiets enough to actually sleep...