open to: m . tops / bottoms / vers
setting: your muse picked up a hitchhiker (Trevor) in the middle of a storm. Trevor is homeless, he was kicked out after being outed and has been traveling across country trying to find somewhere to settle down.
content potential: dub con/non con, prostitution, persuasion, whatever fits tbh
“Thanks for stopping.” Trevor said after his bag was settled in the bag, he was soaked from walking all night in the rain and hadn’t really been looking forward to sleeping out in the middle of nowhere. He’d heard coyotes out there, maybe wolves, did they have wolves out in these parts? Trevor wasn’t sure but in the corner of his eye he’d swear things had been watching him, some creature waiting to sink his teeth into him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his sopping wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable. The guy who pulled over hadn’t asked any questions, but truthfully Trevor was willing to go as far as he was willing to take him, wasn’t like he had a home, or anyone who gave two fucks about him anyways.
The night was dark, and out here there was nothing but the pair of headlights to cut through the shitty weather that he’d found himself stuck in. “You mind if I smoke in here?” Trevor asked, at some point he’d picked up the habit, one of the many things that made him the abysmal disappointment to his parents he’d become. It wasn’t the worst of his crimes, no, that had been when they’d walked in on him going down on the captain of the football team. That was the last straw. The West coast was supposed to be hella progressive, so that’s where he was headed. Maybe he’d find himself, or whatever bullshit was supposed to happen.
