#tz11

You sat at the kitchen table in Jack and Luke’s apartment, laptop open. You’d been writing an article for a newspaper in Vancouver since noon–the clock read 7. Jack had gone out to run errands an hour ago, and Luke had been napping since 5. It was rainy, warm, and your music was playing faintly in the background. It would’ve been perfect if Trevor wasn’t sitting across from you shouting every two seconds. 

“So…what are you doing?” He asked, his voice far too loud for being only 4 feet away. 

Your eyes flicked up, a flat expression on your face. “The same thing I've been doing for the past seven hours. I’m working.” 

He groaned, twirling his finger in a bowl of popcorn that sat at the center of the table. “So,” He started. You rolled your eyes. “What’s your favorite part of New York?” You said nothing, typing aggressively. Trevor smirked, leaning forward. “I bet you wish you were in Vancouver with Quinn.” You looked up at him, a rude expression on your face. 

You shook your head, returning your eyes to the computer screen. “Can you stop being annoying?”

“You’re just mad ‘cause I'm right.” He looked over, checking for a reaction, but you were too zoned in. Without missing a beat, he leaned over further and slammed your laptop shut. 

“Hey!”

“Stop being lame.” He said, staring you dead in the eyes. “You’ve been working for hours.”

Your expression softened as you leaned back, crossing your arms. “Fine. What do you want?” Your voice was flat, slightly aggressive.

Trevor smiled, sitting back down in his chair. “Are you team Quinn or team Jack?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “This is so stupid.”

“Answer the question.” 

“I don’t even know what that means!”

He raised his eyebrows, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “You know exactly what it means,” You shut your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Trevor smiled. “I’m team Quinn.”

You opened your eyes slowly, leveling him with a glare. “You would be.”

He grinned, obnoxiously proud of himself, slouching further into the chair like he’d just made some profound declaration. The soft patter of rain against the windows accented his self-satisfied silence. Your laptop sat shut in front of you, the article staring back at you from behind your eyelids like a ghost you couldn’t shake. But you knew Trevor wasn’t going to let you get back to it. Not yet. 

“Alright,” you said dryly, brushing your fingers across the smooth lid of your laptop. “Fine. Entertain me, genius. Why team Quinn?”

Trevor lit up. “Easy. Jack’s too…Jack. He’s charming, good-looking, funny. He can make you think he’s made for you, but we all know he gets around. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you.” You looked away for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Quinn? Quinn’s your husband. He sends you flowers, he warms your towel in the dryer, he cleans up your messes, he cooks for you. Need I say more?”

You stared at him, half-baffled, half-amused. He wasn’t wrong, or so you thought. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Luke came out of his room. His hair was ruffled under his hoodie, eyes tired as he took a seat at the table. “I just listened to that whole spiel,” He looked over at Trevor. “You’re wrong.” 

Trevor turned toward Luke like a dog scenting prey, grin already locked and loaded. “I’m sorry—what?” 

Luke gave a lazy blink, voice still scratchy with sleep. “You’re wrong,” he repeated, tone flat as the rain tapped on the windows. “Quinn’s not a husband. He’s a hallucination.” You glanced between them, trying and failing to hide your smirk behind a hand. 

Trevor looked personally offended. “Hallucination? You’ve gotta be joking.” Luke let out a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he stood from his chair. Silently, he walked into his room, returning with a small white board. He stood in front of the table, white board facing both you and Trevor.

“Wow.” You said, raising your eyebrows.

Luke cleared his throat. “So, there are three groups when it comes to Bunny.” He drew each of the boy’s numbers on the white board, grouped together variously. Trevor looked over at you, suspicion written all over his face. “First, we have our ‘would never’s’. That’s me and Trevor.” Trevor cheered, giving Luke a fist bump. Luke sniffled his nose before starting again. “Then we have the ‘delulus’. As you can see, Cole stands alone in this category.” You pouted. “And of course, the ‘future husband potentials’. Quinn and Jack.”

“I’m sorry– ‘future husbands’?” You asked. Trevor shushed you quickly, now fully invested in Luke’s presentation. 

“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted,” Luke continued, sending you a glare. “Sure, Quinn can act like a husband. He can bring you flowers, hold you, give you comfort, treat you like a princess—but Quinn has had girlfriends. And, what happens when Quinn gets a girlfriend?” Luke erased Quinn’s number, moving it next to Trevor’s. “He pretends like you don’t exist.” You tried your best not to frown, but you were dying a little bit on the inside. “Quinn is able to treat another woman the exact same way he treats you. He’s capable of having that level of intimacy with anyone else.”

“Intellectual.” Trevor said, nodding his head.

“Uh, I’m not done.” Luke pointed at Trevor before returning to his white board. “I’ll say it straight up, Jack’s an asshole. It’s all ‘fuck bitches, get money’ with him. But we all see the way he stares at you on the lake, we see the way he tries to get everyone out of the room so it’s just the two of you, we see the way he lingers at your door before walking to his room. Jack calls you to take care of him when he’s sick, he’ll cry in front of you, he acts like an idiot around you, and Jack doesn’t act like that around anyone. He’s not afraid to be himself around you.” Your eyes softened a bit as Luke stared into them. “Yeah, he fucks around, but it’s been proven he’s not capable of that same level of intimacy with anyone else but you. When you have a boyfriend, how does he act?”

You hesitated for just a moment. “...Like a douchebag.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Luke nodded his head. “He’s jealous.” Trevor was frozen mid-popcorn toss, his smug little smirk caught somewhere between confusion and horror. You, meanwhile, just stared at Luke, lips slightly parted, as if his monologue had peeled open a window in your chest you hadn’t realized was painted shut. The rain outside had picked up, fat drops thudding against the window like punctuation. Dramatic, even for the weather. Luke casually set the whiteboard down on the counter, like he hadn’t just dropped a thesis more emotionally loaded than your last three relationships. He yawned, turned to grab a LaCroix from the fridge, and cracked it open with the indifference of someone who didn’t just derail your emotional stability.

Trevor clapped slowly, looking around the room. Luke raised an eyebrow as you turned to face Trevor. He looked at Luke, a smile on his face. “Wow. That was great.” He said, letting out a laugh. “What about Team Luke?”

Luke froze mid-air, eyes widened. “W-What?”

“C’mon,” Trevor stood up, grabbing the whiteboard. He erased Luke’s number that was grouped with his. “You don’t belong here,” He rewrote the number next to Cole’s. “You’re right here.” You furrowed your brows, curious as to where he was going. “I think you’re bullshitting.”

“No-” Luke started, cut off quickly by Trevor.

“You’re trying to break the pact.”

Your head flicked over to Luke in an instant, even more confused than before. “The pact?” You asked, tilting your head down. 

Luke scoffed, looking back at Trevor. “What are you even talking about?”

Trevor smiled, walking closer to Luke. “You know that if Sunny heard your little proposal, she’d go running to Jack. We both know Jack would never say no to any woman, let alone his princess. He’d bang, leave, and the pact would be broken,” He crossed his arms, leaning closer. “Leaving little Lukey an opening to slide in with no consequence.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Luke finally said, voice louder than usual. “I’m not trying to break the pact!”

You slammed your hands on the table, standing up quickly. “Someone tell me what the fuck the pact is, or I swear to god I will lose my shit!”

Luke sent Trevor a glare, but Trevor ignored it. “The pact that states none of the guys are allowed to fuck you.”

“What?!” You yelled. Your eyes widened as you took in the severity of the situation. “Oh my god.”

“Bunny-” 

“No! Don’t Bunny me! When?” You asked, looking at Trevor.

“Huh?”

You rolled your eyes in frustration. “When did it start?”

Trevor threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth, sitting back down in his seat. “Summer you grew boobs.” You groaned in frustration, throwing your hands up. “I had to implement it! Okay? It was annoying how every single one of them were competing for your attention. I was getting no attention! And that was the summer I learned how to do a backflip!”

Your eyes widened, turning your attention back to Luke. “Oh my god.”

Luke shook his head. “No, no. It’s not what you think.”

“It’s exactly what she thinks!” Trevor yelled, looking at Luke like he was stupid.

Luke got closer to Trevor, yelling back at him. “It’s not about the pact, it’s about the bet!” Silence detonated in the middle of the room like a bomb. Even the rain seemed to pause, stunned by the sudden twist in dialogue. You blinked. Twice. Once for pact, and once for bet. There was always something new with these idiots.

“I’m sorry,” you said slowly, like you were trying to read a warning label. “What bet?” 

Trevor turned in his chair like a villain in a swivel office seat, smugness reloading at full speed. “Oh ho hell no, you’re not blaming this on the bet. Quinn will kill you.”

“I am blaming the bet,” Luke snapped, stepping closer, eyes burning. “Because you made it.”

“I did not make it—Cole made it!” Trevor stood now, waving his hands in defense. 

“And you agreed! You shook on it!”

“So did you!”

Luke looked like he was considering throwing his LaCroix at Trevor’s forehead. You looked like you were trying not to throw up. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Someone better start talking, or I swear to god I’m walking into traffic.”

Trevor groaned. “Fine. Okay. Last summer. Cole got drunk—obnoxiously drunk—and said, quote, ‘I bet Quinn’s the first one to fold.’”

“Fold,” you echoed, horrified. “Like I’m a game of poker?”

Trevor nodded solemnly. “Exactly like that.”

Luke looked sheepish now, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to erase the past. “He said Quinn was gonna cave first. That he wouldn’t last a month without trying something. And then...the bet started.”

“You bet on Jack breaking the pact?” you hissed.

“I had to!” Luke confessed.

“Oh my god.” You pressed your palms into your face. “How much?”

Luke and Trevor were silent, staring at each other in silence. “Nuh uh,” Trevor said. “We will die if we say anything else. You have to pretend like you don’t know.”

You laughed, facing both of them. “Act like I don’t know? Are you kidding me? Tell me how much.” Trevor kept a straight face, so you turned to Luke who was sweating gallons. “Luke, how much money?” He shook his head silently. You rolled your eyes, taking in a deep breath—then it clicked. A smug smile wiped across your face as the guys grew worried by the second. “You don’t need to tell me…I can find out for myself.” You said before jumping from the table, running towards Jack’s room. 

“Wait-” You heard Trevor as you closed and locked the door behind you. You went straight to the safe Jack had in his closet, something you’d always been confused by. You punched in your birthday, opening the safe. Idiot. You pulled a metal cash box from the safe labeled “Big Bet $”

“Gotcha, Hughes.” You said quietly, ignoring the aggressive knocks from Trevor and Luke. The box was heavier than you expected—heavier in your hands, heavier in implication, heavier because you knew the minute you opened it, there was no going back. Behind the door, Luke and Trevor were fighting for the Nobel Peace Prize in panicked yelling. 

“Bunny, come on! Don’t open it—”

“You can’t prove what it means! It could mean anything!”

“It literally says Big Bet on it, you moron!”

Your eyes widened as you pulled open the lid. Stacks. Neatly banded, color-coded, and labeled in handwriting that could only belong to Quinn—too clean, too smug, too organized. You counted silently, mouth dropping open. Jack’s contribution was the largest, naturally. But Quinn’s was suspiciously folded beneath a note that read: “He’s going to cave before the Fourth. Mark my words.”

Cole’s wad of twenties had a sticky note: “Because I value my life, this is anonymously donated.” 

And Luke… oh, Luke. A measly fifty-dollar bill, folded eight times, shoved behind a crumpled receipt and an emergency Tylenol packet.

“You guys are fucking dead.” You shouted before swinging the door open, nearly knocking Luke over. You walked with speed back to the kitchen, box in hand. Trevor and Luke knew they’d fucked up, and they’d be done for as soon as everyone else found out. You slammed the box on the table as Trevor and Luke sat down. You stood in front of them, your hands not daring to move from the cash. You opened the box, shame spread across both of their faces. “Are you kidding me?” You asked quietly. “This has to be like…10k.”

“It’s uh…fifty.” Luke let out, earning a punch to the shoulder from Trevor.

“Fifty Grand?!” You shouted. “You bet fifty grand on who would be the first to get in my pants?!”

“Collectively!” Trevor added.

You sent him a glare, causing him to fall back into his seat. The box sat open like a crime scene, cash practically glowing under the kitchen light, a testament to the idiocy of frat-house emotional repression disguised as friendship. Luke looked like he was seconds from fainting. Trevor was trying not to laugh but had the face of someone who was deeply aware he might die tonight. “Collectively,” you repeated.  Then you turned to Luke. “You contributed this insane stack of cash on Jack.” 

“I really thought I would win that!” he blurted, then immediately covered his mouth like he’d just confessed to a felony. “I mean—I wasn’t trying to—That’s not what I meant—” 

“Do you hear yourself?” you asked, tone calm in the most terrifying way imaginable. “Do either of you hear yourselves? This is gambling. With my body. My dignity. My—my—life, apparently.” 

Trevor squinted. “Okay, when you say it like that—”

“Trevor.”

“I’m shutting up,” he whispered, looking down like he was waiting for divine punishment.

You paced in front of the table like a prosecutor at the end of a very satisfying cross-examination. “I hope you know I’m keeping this money.”

“No!” Luke yelled.

“Yes!” You said, slamming the box shut. “It belongs to me, since I would never do any of you!” Luke and Trevor looked at each other in fear of what would happen to them when the other guys found out. “You guys are professional hockey players, you make this much money in like two months!” Luke, for once in his life, had nothing to say. Just sat there staring at the closed box like it was a ticking bomb. Which, frankly, it was. The minute Jack walked in, or Quinn got wind of it, or God forbid Cole started talking, this whole thing would combust. You ran a hand through your hair, laughing under your breath. “You know what’s wild?” you said, voice too calm. “I was gonna write tonight. An actual piece. Something serious. Something important. And now I’m thinking...maybe this is the story.” 

Luke blanched. “Please don’t write about this.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, wearing a wide grin. “I won’t write about it.” Luke exhaled. “No, your punishment is to sit here, silently, until Jack gets back. ‘Cause he is just as dead as the two of you.” Trevor let out a strangled noise that sounded like someone trying to swallow a scream and a couch cushion at the same time. He turned to Luke with the slow, horrified grace of a man realizing he was about to be collateral damage in someone else’s execution. 

“Why the fuck did you let her go in Jack’s room?” he hissed, barely above a whisper, like Jack could hear them from down the block.

“Why did you leave the safe labeled?” Luke snapped back.

You, meanwhile, were completely unmoved—box of cash in front of you, arms crossed, wearing the smug, terrifying calm of a woman with nothing to lose and everything to report. As if the universe was on Trevor and Luke’s side, the door clicked open. In walked Jack, grocery bags in hand, looking at you with a wide smile.

“Hey guys,” He said, walking towards the kitchen. “What’d I miss?” His smile faded quickly when he dropped the bags down on the table, spotting the cash box in front of you. “Shit.”

You laughed, softly. “Have a seat, Jack.” Jack didn’t move. Not at first. His eyes bounced from the box to your face, then to Luke, then to Trevor—who looked like he was preparing to fake a seizure just to get out of the room. 

“Uh,” Jack said, dragging a hand through his hair, voice suddenly an octave lower. “You found the box.” 

“You labeled it,” you replied, folding your hands neatly on top like it was an auction paddle. “Didn’t exactly have to hire a private investigator.” 

Jack winced. “Okay. Yeah. That’s fair.” He looked at Luke. “Did you tell her?” 

“No!” Luke shouted. “Trevor did!”

Trevor shot upright. “You absolute traitor—you’re the one who brought out the whiteboard!”

“I was doing science!”

Jack sighed. Loudly. Like it hurt to exist. Then he met your eyes and, for the first time since entering, looked genuinely nervous. “Look, before you say anything—”

“No,” you cut him off. “No preamble. Sit your ass down, Hughes.” He obeyed, dragging a chair out with the reluctance of someone about to be publicly executed. He sat, back rigid, hands on his knees like a child waiting to be scolded by the principal. 

Trevor leaned over to Luke and whispered, “This is so bad.”

“You think?” Luke snapped. You opened the box like it was Pandora’s wallet, letting the fluorescent kitchen light bathe the stack of labeled, smugly annotated money once again. You pulled out Jack’s contribution and held it up like a piece of damning evidence in court. 

“Do you want to explain why you put five grand on yourself?” you asked sweetly, though your tone could curdle blood. 

Jack flinched. “I—it wasn’t a bet on me. It was an insurance policy.”

Trevor squinted. “You bet against yourself?”

Jack shrugged, like this somehow made it less insane. “If I caved, I’d at least win my money back.”

You stared at him. Blinked once. “That is the dumbest financial logic I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Trevor was holding his head in his hands now, laughing silently like he’d passed the point of no return and was just enjoying the flames. “Oh my god. Oh my god. We’re all going to hell.” Luke groaned into his arms. You let the silence hang for a moment longer, until the tension in the room had turned into something tangible, like fog you could punch. 

“Quinn’s contribution came with a note,” you said casually.

Jack swallowed. Hard. “Did it say...the Fourth?”

You raised your eyebrows. “It did.”

Trevor whispered, “Jesus, he’s psychic.”

“Do you have a note in there, Jack?” you asked. “Or were you too busy betting against yourself like a deranged insurance agent?” 

Jack opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then tried again. “...It might’ve said something about a lake trip.”

Luke kicked him under the table. “Why would you write that down, you idiot?” You sat back down in your chair, watching them fall apart. 

Jack looked at you finally—really looked at you. “I know this is bad. I know it’s...beyond bad. But we didn’t mean to objectify you, or turn this into some twisted game. It started as a joke. Then it spiraled. And then...I don’t know. It wasn’t about the money.” 

You leaned forward, eyes locked on his. “Then what was it about?” He hesitated, the way people do right before they say something that might end them—or save them.

“It was about you,” Jack said. “You walk into a room and every single guy in it starts acting like an idiot. It wasn’t just about who would cave. It was about... who you’d pick. If you ever did. And I guess... maybe I didn’t want to lose.”

You blinked. Once. Slowly. Then let out a smug laugh. “What makes you think,” You started quietly. “I would pick any of you!” You yelled, startling all of them. “I am keeping this money, and I expect a handwritten apology from all of you.” 

Jack nodded. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

trevorjamie is the hockey rpf ship between former (!!) anaheim ducks and now current (!!) philadelphia flyers forward trevor zegras, (drafted 9th overall in 2019) and former anaheim ducks and current philadelphia flyers defenseman jamie drysdale (drafted 7th overall in 2020)

an aside on trevor zegras

before we go into the backstory, i think the key to understanding the appeal of trevorjamie is to understand the appeal of trevor zegras. when i say appeal, three reasons come to mind:

his career can, as of right now, be divided into two parts: Trevor Zegras, Wonder Kid and Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential. trevor the wonderkid spans his his first two (and a half if you count 20-21) seasons: back-to-back 60+ points (that's Really Good for a rookie/young player). finishes second in the rookie of the year voting. also appears on the 2023 NHL EA video game cover, which is A Big Deal, especially for such a young player. even makes a guest appearance at the 2022 NHL All-Star Game where he scores a goal blindfolded in the ugliest red and yellow get-up i've ever seen while NHL team mascots pelt him with dodgeballs (no, i am not making this up.) here's the video. throughout his first two years, he makes insane plays, including multiple michigans (a lacrosse style move that's really hard to land in hockey, much less NHL-level hockey). here's a webweave about trevor and Hockey that i think about Every Day. here's a video of his frankly mind-boggling highlights from his first two years. here's another. here's a webweave with quotes on how talented he is. from 2021 till 2023, trevor zegras is, for all intents and purposes, the young, sexy and talented face of the nhl. Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential starts after he injures his ankle in 2024 and his goals/assists production falls off majorly for the next two years (we shall go more into why & how of Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential later.) but either way, his hockey is always in the spotlight for being creative and unique.

the second reason is his personality. nhl players are notoriously criticized for being boring "robots" with no emotion and so when trevor zegras, the Lover Boy who wears his heart on his sleeve comes along, people are captivated by how open and genuine he is. he’s like that frat boy who was always admired and never loved. here's a post about a coach talking about how much trevor talks. here's a youtube compilation of his interviews (very old but it's all i could find). fun facts: he once tried to pick a fight with sidney crosby, probably the Most Respected hockey player on earth. he dated dixie d'amelio for a bit. he went to the 2022 & 2023 montreal grand prix (and repped mclaren with his nhl friends!) his instagram username is 'Z' and he posts like an influencer. in conclusion: he's just a twink tiktoker and tattooed greek man from the suburbs of new york who is occasionally Haunted By The Demons. and we love him for that!

the third and final reason that i personally love him is because he is a part of the 2019 U.S. National Team Development Program draft class (the 2001s.) the USNTDP was started as a junior program for elite highschool hockey players across the US, meant to foster team-bonding between american players from a young age and also give them a taste of the pro-life before the NHL that isn't college hockey or a foreign minor league. it is famous in the hockey rpf fandom for spawning some of the most codependent homoerotic friendships, from dylan larkin & zach werenski to will smith, ryan leonard & gabe perrault and of course, trevor zegras and his friends: jack hughes, cole caufield, alex turcotte, etc. the reason that this particular group/USNTDP class is so famous is because they are soo co-dependent that jack hughes (and his brothers who are also elite NHL players, luke & quinn hughes (quinn has the funniest beef with trevor)) bought a lakehouse in michigan (where the program is located) so that the boys can summer there every off-season. the lakehouse has now expanded to include a revolving door of The Hughes Friends, including umich (luke & quinn hughes' alma mater) & other college hockey players. this has, of course, spanned many fics across many ships and is an integral part of The Lore. the lore behind cole, jack and trevor's friendship is also insane (please peruse @/whirlpool-blog’s jhtz tag), but that's a problem for another day (if it intrigues you, have a scroll through the usntdp tag generally too). but yes, the dynamic between trevor & his friends is another fan favourite, with countless interviews and instagram #moments, if only because all rpfers yearn for one direction. (jack is zayn, trevor is harry and cole is niall. no i don't take constructive criticism).

tldr: trevor zegras is a loud, controversial, talented and loved player. now, in my opinion jamie drysdale - in contrast - is quiet, sweet and soft-spoken, aggressively canadian, a guitar player who also likes to cook and hates mornings. however, there are other takes out there like this one that beg to differ and make for an even more interesting dynamic. either way, together, they compliment each other. one is Insane and the other is So Nonchalant. we must fundamentally understand that to understand the appeal of trevorjamie.

now onto the actual question: the trevorjamie backstory.

now before we begin, i have taken a lot of help from the wonderful primers of @/somewhatinvested, linked here. i highly recommend a scroll through their blog, (esp their tzjd lore tag) as well as @/whirlpool-blogs, @/teex, @/bliksemflitsenblog, @/f1vegas, @/sergeifyodorov and @/zeegras because i am but an amateur and they are phd experts conducting their second thesis.

but here's my take, which includes Recent Happenings A.K.A. trevor is traded to philly A.K.A. the greatest moment of my life A.K.A. yaoi always wins.

the beginning: 2020-2021 season

even though they were drafted in 2019 and 2020 respectively, trevor and jamie first actually met when they played against each other in the 2021 world junior championships (which is A Big Deal for young hockey prospects) where trevor (who played for the US) was spotlighted for two reasons:

winning MVP of the tournament, after leading the tournament in scoring (and actually tying the all-time US world junior record)

making the most cocky comments, including saying this about the canadian team: "i don't think they've been tested by a real time yet.” right before the highly anticipated US-canada final.

jamie plays for the canadian team. the usa won the final. trevor had 2 goals and 1 assist in the final. jamie was, understandably, Pissed. now this was A Problem because they are going to be teammates and are also flying to anaheim together on the same plane (along with other californian prospects but that's irrelevant.) jamie allegedly did not want to talk to trevor at all on the flight. trevor forced them to make amends over chick-fil-a after. hence began the most epic enemies-to-roommates-to-lovers arc in 2021 as they roomed together in a hotel in irvine. they spend this time mostly playing for the minor league affiliate of the ducks, the gulls (if you do not know what a minor league is, think gulls is the f2 team of the ducks, an f1 team).

throughout the (shortened) 2020-21 season, they bounce back & forth between the ducks and the gulls. the whole time, they stay together in a hotel in irvine (along with two other prospects) even though they only overlap for 13 NHL games over the course of the 2020-21 season (they are called up at different times to the ducks). one of their other roommates, perrault, says that the two of them were the closest between the four roommates. when trevor is first called up to the NHL, he wears the suit that jamie wore to their US-canada final game (insane). despite playing only 13 NHL games together, they score their first NHL goals in the same game (jamie's first NHL game), only minutes apart (breaking the record for the closest NHL debut goals). jamie has a secondary assist on trevor's first goal. jamie is interviewed after the game and says that "it was a good night for our household." the photo of them celebrating trevor’s first goal is re-created by a fan. the painting is later hung in their shared apartment by trevor. they wear matching rose pins on the anniversary of their first goals a year later. #gay

jamie Panics: 2021-2022 season

when the new season starts in 21-22, trevorjamie have established themselves. they are ready to move on from the land of Hotel Nomads and Buy A House. trevor said that he assumed jamie and him were going to live together. however, jamie is asked by an older teammate to live with him and says yes. i wonder Why.

trevor ends up first living with two other teammates for a week and then later moves in with cole york, the older brother of one of USNTDP cult bros, cam york (remember the name because it will come up later). during this time, trevor adopts a lizard. no, i am not joking. i can only imagine the Yearning reached catastrophic levels. HOWEVER! the Hockey Gods intervene and jamie's roommate is traded halfway through the season. it is confirmed that trevor moved in with jamie at the end the season. #lovewins

the 2022 offseason is incredibly famous because of the troy terry (one of their teammate)'s wedding, where we had some prime trevorjamie moments. see @/somewhatinvested's primer. take particular notice of this photo, allegedly taken after the wedding when they are both hungover in a ski-lift in aspen:

boyfriends: 2022-2023 season

2022-2023 is notable because yes, trevor & jamie live together in an apartment (yes, that apartment where trevor hangs the fan painting of their celebration). but also because jamie gets injured after playing only eight games and instead of going home back to canada, like a normal player would, he stays with trevor in anaheim. for the rest of the season (a solid five months). truly insane. this gives us some amazing Domestic content, such as jamie cooking for them both, jamie playing the guitar for trevor, watching sunsets together on the rooftop connected to their apartment (including jamie allegedly taking the most romantic sunset trevor photos), cuddling on valentine's day together and of course, the infamous shared rooftop playlist (preluded by the apple music JamieTrevor playlist), which trevor and jamie both confirmed they listen to while watching the sunset together. some of the music in this playlist is truly insane. (side note: i highly recommend checking out jamie's spotify (it's actually his mom's spotify) playlist "California" because it is. insane. listening to those 11 songs with the implications of trevorjamie is a Crazy experience. also jamie has only added like 13-15 songs to the “Rooftop”playlist and the summer trevor got a girlfriend he removed “Lover” by Taylor Swift and added it to his “California” playlist. god they make me unhinged)

in the 2023 offseason, trevor, jamie and USNTDP buddy cam york (there he is again!) go to stagecoach together. trevor and jamie are, predictably, weird about each other. trevor sets up him and jamie up with two models. stuff gets messy. here's a primer. here's more lore about trevorjamie being weird about their girlfriends. here, i put my rpf goggles to speculate that perhaps trevor Panicked this time.

the horrible, very bad, no good trade: 2023-2024 season

in 2023-24, they are not living together. maybe stagecoach has something to do with it, maybe it doesn't. either way, 2023 continues to give us content, such as trevor posting a photo of jamie with a winky face emoji after Contentious Contract Negotiations and dedicating his michigan goal to jamie.

but then on january 8th, the news breaks that jamie drysdale has been traded to the philadelphia flyers.

now, this is shocking because both trevor and jamie are good players: they're high draft picks who are faces of the franchise, touted as part of the ducks' rebuilding core and they just signed contract extensions. but it is even more shocking to trevor zegras, who is going to be separated from His Guy.

now hockey trades are famous for Being Chaotic but this was next-level: the ducks were on a week-long roadtrip, preparing for a game against nashville. trevor and jamie were allegedly together in a dive bar in nashville when jamie got the call. jamie's mind "was in a daze." he flew out of nashville at 5:45 a.m. trevor allegedly reached out to his USNTDP bro on the flyers, cam york (there he is again again!) to connect with jamie. jamie moves in with cam york (!) and another teammate. he picks #9 to play with the flyers, the same number trevor wore on the US world juniors team. which could mean nothing.

the day after the trade, trevor is supposed to be interviewed before the nashville game but allegedly refuses. a rinkside reporter stated that "trevor is the person who will miss jamie the most..was visibly glum... was his very best friend... I don't think he has fully processed it this morning...he said it doesn't feel real yet...they're going through it, they're going to remain close friends for the rest of their lives." trevor is uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole ordeal: no goodbye post, not even a story. later on, he states that him and jamie "peed together, got injured together, slept together," which goes viral. trevor likes a post of the quote.

in his first shift in his first game after jamie leaves (which is also trevor's 200th NHL game), trevor immediately breaks his ankle and is helped off the ice. he misses the rest of the season. he later says that the injury hurts less than the trade.

jamie's first game is flyers' pride night. afterwards, trevor likes the flyers post of the game and reposts it, with the same winky face emoji that he used when jamie got resigned to the ducks. here's screenshots of the two stories (the second one is the flyers story. yes that’s jamie wearing a dog mask. no, don’t ask.)

danny briere, fujoshi extraordinaire: 2024-2025 season

now before we move on to recent events, we must go back to trevor. specifically, Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential. so i mentioned that after the ankle injury in 2024 (the one he got immediately after jamie was traded), trevor’s goals and offensive production drops massively. his name comes up in trade rumours throughout 2024 and 2025, including a trade to the flyers. critics point to his defensive game as a back-end liability. people say he takes shifts off and takes games off, which basically mean he plays with no heart. they say he’s rude and disrespectful in his chirps. he hardly celebrates after goals anymore. people say he's lazy and overconfident, all flash and no substance, too scrawny to play in the league and annoyingly talkative to top it off.

all of this stems from many reasons, including his head coach, greg cronin, having an old-school style of hockey that encourages "grit" and none of the showboating and puck handling trevor is good at and loves. during this time, the ducks general manager pat verbeek (trevorjamie fandom’s Resident Evil Man) moves trevor from his natural, life long position of centre to right wing, which is another factor in his dropping production. gone are the days of trevor zegras, all-star rookie. people call him washed up and a draft bust. rpfers say he is broken-hearted.

this is worsened when he, just starting to find his groove and show flashes of defensive capability in 24-25, suffers a torn meniscus and has to undergo surgery for six weeks, missing majority of this season. when he comes back, he violates player safety rules and is suspended for six games. in first game after the suspension, he immediately tries to fight someone (which he never does) and loses very badly.

in contrast, jamie is thriving. he is maturing and growing defensively, he buys his own house in downtown philly, he hard launches his long distance gf (the one who trevor introduced him to at stagecoach) and spends his time with his philly best friend, cam york (the one who trevor introduced him to). during this time, jamie hardly mentions trevor, except for a flyers social media video where he says the most famous person on his phone is trevor zegras (full government name).

him and trevor also allegedly have dinner together after a ducks-flyers game in philly in 2025. trevor did not play in the game due to his injuries but still waited outside the flyers locker room “quietly and patiently” and later said the dinner was like “jamie never left.” fun fact (said with the air of a Crazy Person): due to trevor’s injuries and the distance between the two teams (they are in separate conferences), trevor has actually never played an NHL game against jamie.

in the beginning of the offseason, trevor also did this sponcon. which. No Comment. but what was shocking was he reposted the cover photo and then immediately reposted a reel of… jamie playing golf. here’s the two stories side by side to establish how crazy that was:

trevor was also allegedly updating The Rooftop Playlist for the first time a few days in two years before Recent Events. some people speculate it was during trade talks and he was Thinking about jamie. which is also Crazy.

this all brings us to today, when trevorjamie fans across the world collectively lost their minds when it was announced that the flyers had acquired trevor zegras.

trevor's only public acknowledgement about the trade (besides liking a bunch of posts) is this photo of him & jamie posted to his instagram, no caption and no acknowledgment to his other buddies on the team such as cam york (there he is again again again again!). nope, trevor needs everyone to know that this trade is about His Guy and His Guy Only.

you may notice some similarities to a certain pic on a ski lift in aspen. but whilst they were Just Bros in that one, they are definitely Not Bros in this one. just the semantics of taking a pic from two years ago, when we know trevor has pics of him, jamie and cam york at stagecoach... oh trevor zegras, you are the biggest idgaf war loser.

besides this photo, trevor also did a virtual press conference (video here) and went on a local philly podcast. jamie has only liked the post saying goodbye to the teammate that they traded for trevor and no posts related to trevor at all. he has also not posted anything on instagram.

but that doesn't matter because trevor zegras is So Back, baby. he will be playing under #46, the number he used to play on the gulls (he used #11 on the ducks). he is free of his Demons (the #11, pat verbeek and playing right wing). he is going to the land of brotherly love, matvei michkov (known for doing michigans, trevor's MoveTM) and travis konecny (known for being a yapper like trevor).

so where does this leave us now? well, both jamie and trevor will be playing the next season together (!!!!!!!). hopefully, we shall see trevor have a breakout year, a la dylan storme. both of them will be on the last year of the 3-year contracts they originally signed with the ducks. we don't know if either will resign with philly. but one thing can be sure: they will definitely, definitely Be Weird About It.

TLDR: trevor and jamie are insane about each other. i am insane about them. come join us!

You have always hated Trevor Zegras.

Okay hate might be dramatic, but whatever. Point is: the two of you can’t be within ten feet of each other without the chirping starting, without Trevor giving you that stupid smirk that makes you want to fight him or kiss him or both.

Tonight is no different.

You’re at a mutual friend’s apartment for a small get-together, leaning against the kitchen counter with a drink when Trevor strolls in like he owns the place. Backwards hat, grey hoodie, cocky grin.

He sees you instantly.

“Didn’t know they let you in,” he says, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

You don’t bother to look at him. “Someone had to raise the IQ of the room.”

“Right,” Trevor says, stepping closer, “because you totally don’t get flustered every time I breathe in your direction.”

You scoff. “You wish.”

He tilts his head, studying you — really studying you and your stomach flips. His voice drops, lower, rougher.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “I do.”

Your fingers tighten around your drink. You weren’t prepared for that. For him, looking at you like he’s imagining things he shouldn’t say out loud.

You swallow. “Trevor—”

“Come here,” he says quietly.

You freeze. “Why—”

“Because you’re all talk,” he says, stepping into your space, “and I want to see what happens when I call your bluff.”

And he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Your breath stutters, but you don’t move. So Trevor does one hand braced beside your hip on the counter, the other curling around your waist, tugging you forward until your chest bumps his.

“You gonna tell me to back off?” he murmurs. “Or are you gonna finally admit you like when I get this close?”

“I don’t—”

He laughs softly. “Liar.”

Then he kisses you.

Hard.

Your back hits the counter as his mouth claims yours urgent, hungry, like years of tension snapping all at once. You gasp, and he takes advantage immediately, tongue sliding against yours in a way that steals every thought from your skull.

His hands are everywhere — your waist, your hips, your jaw pulling you closer until you’re pressed completely against him.

You break for air. “Trevor—someone could walk in—”

He smirks. “Then guess we should take this somewhere else.”

He grabs your hand, tugging you down the hall until you reach a quiet guest room, closing the door with a soft click before caging you against it.

“Still wanna pretend you don’t want me?” he asks, thumb brushing your lower lip.

You glare. “You’re the most annoying—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts, leaning in until his lips graze your ear. “And you’re dripping for me.”

Your knees nearly buckle.

Trevor grins like he felt it.

“Take your clothes off,” he says, stepping back only enough to watch.

You’re not giving him that satisfaction.

“Make me.”

His eyes darken. “Gladly.”

He’s on you in seconds lifting your shirt, kissing down your stomach, kneeling in front of you like he’s starving. His hands grip your thighs, dragging you toward the edge of the bed.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs, mouth hot against your skin, “so fucking long.”

“Trev—”

He pulls your underwear down with slow, teasing fingers. Then his tongue is on you.

You gasp loud as he licks a long, slow stripe up your heat.

“Fuck,” you choke.

“That’s right,” he smirks against you. “Say my name.”

His mouth works you over, devastatingly good tongue circling your clit, lips sucking, fingers sliding into you like he’s memorizing every reaction. You grip his hair, head tipping back.

You’re close. Too close.

“T-Trevor, I—”

“Come on my tongue,” he says, voice dark. “Be good for me.”

You fall apart instantly.

He holds you through it, letting you ride his mouth until you’re shaking, overstimulated, boneless.

When he climbs up your body, his lips shiny, pupils blown wide, you could melt.

“You taste unreal,” he whispers, kissing you slow and deep. “Now lie back.”

You do.

He strips quickly shirt, jeans, boxers and your mouth goes dry because he’s big. And he knows you’re staring.

“Yeah?” he grins. “Still gonna talk shit?”

You tug him down by the neck. “Shut up and fuck me.”

His breath catches then he lines himself up and sinks into you with a groan so low it vibrates in your spine.

“Jesus—” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel… fuck.”

He sets a ruthless pace, hips snapping into you with every stroke. You cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks you like he’s been waiting for this forever.

Your moans mix with his— messy, breathless, needy.

“You’re mine,” he mutters against your throat, kissing, biting. “Say it.”

You don’t. You can’t.

He thrusts harder. “Say it.”

“Trev—”

His hand slides to your throat, gentle but claiming. “Say it.”

You break.

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “Fuck—Trevor, I’m yours.”

He groans loud and drives into you deeper, desperate, lost in you.

You come again, shaking around him, dragging him right over the edge with you. He buries himself inside you with a loud, broken moan, collapsing against your chest as he spills into you.

You stay like that for a minute — breathing hard, bodies tangled, his face pressed against your neck.

Then he lifts his head just enough to smirk.

“So…” he pants. “Still hate me?”

You roll your eyes, pulling him in by his hoodie strings.

“Shut up,” you whisper, kissing him again.

Trevor smiles against your mouth.

When Trevor arrives home, you look up at him. “Hi, baby,” you greet. “Good day?”

He’s the perfect picture cuddly boyfriend, which is why he’d been late getting out of bed for this event in the first place. He hadn’t even had time to change. He’s still wearing those BU sweatpants you love so much and the white hoodie he’d found at the foot of your bed. 

Trevor offers you a complacent smile. “It was fine.” He walks over to the couch and pushes your legs down until they’re flat on the cushions. He collapses on top of your back, laying with his head just between your shoulder blades.

You let out a small chuckle, barely more than a puff of breath, and return to your book. You’re being pressed into the cushions by a lot more than gravity now, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have your boyfriend so close, especially as he’s snaking his hands up the sides of your shirt and tracing your skin.

He kisses your spine. “Can I?” Trevor asks, his voice muffled and pouty against your back. He shifts up on his knees so he can press his hips to your ass.

It’s the first time that Trevor has wanted to do this since you talked about it. Free use. Goosebumps rise on your neck. 

“You don’t have to ask,” you remind Trevor, although it’s nice that he did since it’s the first time he’s actually going to use you like this. “‘m all yours, babe.”

Trevor hums proudly at that, pecking your shoulder before pulling away from you entirely. He leans back on his heels and pushes his sweats down. 

You look again to your book. You can feel Trevor stroking himself to his full hardness and you bite your bottom lip. You’re wet thinking about how Trevor just wants to be inside of you, to treat you like no more than a hole to be filled when he wants to fill it, but you’re not particularly inclined to participate. That’s the whole point, after all, isn’t it?

He pushes your legs apart, then settles between them. The blunt tip of his cock probes your entrance and sinks into you.

The drag is harsh and it gets harder and harder to read as Trevor becomes more drunk on this feeling. You feign nonchalance. 

Trevor grips your hips and drives his cock into your heat over and over and over again. There’s no regard for you, for your pleasure. It’s only about his pleasure and, honestly, that makes you feel good. Trevor’s climax, in this state, means much more to you than your own. As long as he’s feeling good, then you’re happy to be used.

He doesn’t waste time on anything other than chasing his orgasm. You get to hear Trevor in his purest state– this is like fucking his own fist in complete privacy, but instead, he’s fucking into you. You get to hear all of his grunts and groans and puffs of breath and stifled whimpers, all of which he makes when you’re together too, but he likes to make them more manly and sexy when he’s putting on a show for you. Truth be told, you like these better. You like that Trevor can’t stop the stutter of his hips and the keen that escapes his mouth as he starts to shoot off inside of you.

You love how he moves to bracket your ribs with his arms, palms flat on the couch. His hips continue to move as he works through his orgasm, cum dribbling from his tip into your cunt. Trevor’s lips find your neck, your shoulder, your spine… he plants grateful kiss after grateful kiss to your back until his movements slow to pure stillness and Trevor lays against you.

His cock remains inside, acting like a plug to keep the cum from leaking out of you onto the couch. Trevor hooks his nose over your shoulder. “I hope I didn’t disturb your reading,” Trevor mumbles. He takes some of the fabric of your shirt in his mouth, tugging on it. “Couldn’t resist.”

II. 

“Hey, babe, c’mere,” Trevor calls from down the hall.

“What, Trev?” you reply. You scrunch your hair in a towel, having just gotten out of the shower a few minutes prior. When he doesn’t reply, you roll your eyes and leave the bathroom, making your way into Trevor’s game room. “What, Trev,” you repeat in a more exasperated voice.

He looks over his shoulder and moves one of his headphones to the side. His face splits into a grin. “Oh, good. Take your towel off and come here.” He spreads his legs, scooting back in his wheely chair so you can fit partially beneath the desk. “I want to use your mouth.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, then shake your head and chuckle. “Really?”

Trevor nods and lifts his hips enticingly. 

“Are you going to game while I suck you off?” you ask.

Trevor nods again and smiles wide. 

You start to laugh again, walking over to where he sits and putting your hands on his knees. You bend at the waist and peck his lips before sliding to your knees. 

Trevor grabs a hairtie from the desk and ties your hair into the world’s most hurried bun. Then, he leans back in his chair and picks up his controller. He puts his headphones back over both ears and resumes his game. He lifts his hips as you start to drag his waistband down. 

You lick Trevor’s tip slowly with the flat of your tongue, peeking up through your eyelashes as you do and catching the way the corners of his mouth turn up. His eyes stay on the screen. 

The hair on Trevor’s thighs is soft and you pet through it as you slide his cock into your throat. You scratch your nails gently over his skin, closing your eyes and starting to bob your head. Trevor’s cock is thick and tastes slightly salty as precum oozes from his tip and seeps into your warm mouth.

Trevor’s breath is deep and his expression remains mostly unaffected. You aim to change that.

You swallow him down as much as you can. Trevor’s cock flexes with your swallow, filling all the space that you give him. You gag, but force your way down until your lips are wrapped around Trevor’s base. You lift your eyes to his face and find Trevor’s gaze on you, wide smirk on his face.

“Showing off?” Trevor asks knowingly.

Stilted by the cock in your mouth, you shake your head. 

“Then fuck your mouth for me, will ya?” Trevor instructs goodnaturedly, nudging you with his foot and grinning at you. 

You choke a little bit on Trevor’s cock when you laugh at his words, but you pull off and put your mouth to work.

You lay your hand flat on Trevor’s hip and caress his abdomen with your thumb, bobbing your head up and down. His tip knocks into the back of your throat as you push yourself down, alternating between lathering your tongue over his tip and deepthroating him until you have to pull off and gasp for breath. 

Trevor plays on. You can hear the clicking of his controller and the way he’ll let out an annoyed groan whenever something goes wrong on the screen.

You lap at his tip and fit your lips around his crown, sucking softly and flicking the tip of your tongue over his slit, collecting the precum there and begging for more to come out and coat your tongue. You hum and take him down about halfway, drawing your fingers gently up and down the rest of his shaft. You’re barely touching him in this moment, just ghosting over his veins and ridges. When you take him all the way down, you cup his balls and roll them in your palm. When you give them a squeeze, Trevor’s cock jumps in your mouth.

It’s the first physical reaction, beside how hard his length is, that you’ve gotten from Trevor.

You repeat the actions over and over. Trevor’s cock is steadily leaking precum now, the taste filling your mouth, and you can feel his pulse growing more and more rapid on your tongue. You breathe through your nose, choking yourself on Trevor’s length and allowing spit to drip down his cock until he’s positively coated. 

Massaging the vein on the underside of Trevor’s cock with the flat your tongue, you swallow around his tip. His cock jerks again, bumping into the roof of your mouth a telltale three, four, five times before pearly white cum shoots down your throat in long, thick threads.

You swallow around him until Trevor is done coming and there’s nothing left in your throat but the aftertaste. 

You kneel back on your heels and use the momentum to make your way to your feet, pecking Trevor’s mouth again and heading back to the bathroom to finish your post-shower routine.

III. 

You’re wearing Trevor’s pink sweatshirt, the one with Roman numerals on the breastbone, and chopping up vegetables for a pasta sauce. You’ve already got four tomatoes halved and thrown in the blender, plus an onion that you cut into quarters. There are a few cloves of garlic thrown into the blender with those veggies and you’re about to start blending them, once you finish chopping this carrot into fine little pieces. Really, you’re just trying to blend all of your veggies that are about to go bad together so that they don’t go to waste. Even if it tastes like shit, your boyfriend is like a vaccuum when it comes to any kind of food, and he’ll eat as much as you give him.

It’s been a couple of months since you and Trevor started this free use journey and you’ve stopped wearing underwear altogether when you’re around the house. Trevor has ruined a few pairs already, by stretching them out or physically ripping them off of your body due to his lack of patience, and you’d rather not have to buy new underwear every other month. 

It’s lucky that you’re wearing nothing, given how Trevor walks in the front door after practice and drops everything where he stands before beelining to you. He presses his face into your hair and breathes in deeply, shoving his hands up the sweatshirt and kneading your boobs.

“Long day?” you ask, chuckling and chopping up the final pieces of carrot before putting the knife to the side. You pick up handful after handful of carrots and toss them in the blender, eventually wiping your hands on the teatowel you’d thrown on the counter after washing the tomatoes. 

“The longest,” Trevor replies. One of his hands leaves your chest, retreating to pull his cock out of his pants. He fists the base and rubs his tip against your folds until he’s hard and straining and you’re slick enough for him to press inside.

You’re doing your best to pour a dash of vegetable oil and a bit of heavy cream into the blender so that the vegetables blend more easily, but Trevor has started to thrust against you. The carton of heavy cream slips and you pour way more than you wanted to, but you catch your mistake before the sauce will be too creamy. You close the carton with one hand, using the other to find purchase on the counter and brace yourself for Trevor’s bucking hips.

He notices your stiffness and slips his hand back up to your boob, holding both in his hands and keeping you in place so that you don’t have to. “Sorry, baby, I’ll be quick,” Trevor murmurs with a kiss to the back of your neck. “I needed this.”

“Don’t apologize, Trev,” you say. “You feel good. Take what you need, sweet boy.” You press the button on the blender and the loud whirring fills the room, but you can feel the puffs of Trevor’s breath on your neck and his low moans next to your ear. 

He pinches your nipples beneath the sweatshirt and the feeling travels through your body to your pussy, squeezing Trevor tight. He swivels his hips against you, grinding deep before he draws back and starts to pound into you again. His forehead meets your spine. You can practically feel how close he is already, even though it’s only been a few minutes. He just needs a release after a long day and you’re more than willing to offer that to him.

You press your hips back and watch Trevor’s reaction in the glass of the blender. As he throws his head back and furrows his eyebrows, jaw dropping open, his hips drive into you in a slower, harder, more precise way. His body claps against yours and you turn off the blender just as Trevor comes, moaning out loud and flooding your cunt with his seed. 

You transfer the blended sauce into the pan on the stove and hit a few buttons, setting it on low heat as Trevor pulls his cock from your pussy and watches the cum drip from your hole. He pushes it back in with his fingers, then guides his softening cock to your entrance and fills you again. He stays behind you like that as the sauce simmers, playing with your boobs and kissing your neck as you dump the strained pasta into the sauce and mix them together. 

“That looks good,” Trevor mumbles. He kisses the space right behind your ear. “You’re so good to me.”

You giggle when his breath tickles the shell of your ear, shivering at the sensation. You turn the noodles over in the sauce. “It’s ‘cause I love you,” you tell him.

Trevor brings a hand to your clit, circling his fingers. “Gonna get you back after we eat,” Trevor says. “Make you come a couple of times.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply. You reach for the teatowel and hang it over your shoulder. “Now, clean me up and put this in the laundry after, will you?”

IV.

The next time Trevor needs you like that, you’re asleep in bed. He didn’t expect you to be up waiting for him. That’s a honeymoon phase thing– you guys have been dating for a while. You’ve gotten into fights. You’ve been living together for a while now. You both have seen the best and worst parts of each other over time, and you’ve gotten comfortable enough in this relationship that you and Trevor are both perfectly okay with your not waiting up for him after every game.

But after a long east coast roadie, Trevor has been missing you. You look so pretty in his big t-shirt. When he peels back the covers, Trevor sees that it has ridden up to show off your stomach. Like you’ve been expecting him, your legs are spread apart and, as always, you’re not wearing panties. 

Trevor smiles. You’re ready for him. 

He bends down and kisses your cheek, then moves slowly to the other. He slides into bed with you, having stripped down to his boxers already, and shifts between your legs. He rolls his hips down into your core, his clothed bulge gliding against your folds.

You stir, the hand resting next to your face on the pillow coming up to blearily wipe at your eyes. “Trevor?” you rasp, confused and sleepy. 

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry for waking you,” Trevor whispers. He purses his lips and brushes them against yours. 

“S’okay,” you reply. “How was the game tonight?”

“It was fine.” Trevor kisses down your neck and brings his fingers to your slit. “I missed you.”

He can feel your cheeks shifting as your lips widen into a smile. “You are such a horny guy,” you tease.

Trevor pushes a finger into your heat, feeling the slide grow easier with each thrust. “Can’t help it when my girl is so pretty,” he says. 

“Hmm,” you hum. “Be quick. Wanna cuddle.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, lifting one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist. 

Trevor leaves his lips in contact with your cheek as he pulls his finger from your body and fishes his cock out of his boxers, fucking into your pussy at an unhurried pace. You’re so warm and tight; Trevor hasn’t fucked you in days and he knows he won’t last an impressive amount of time. You told him to be quick anyway. Once his pelvis is flush with yours, Trevor breathes in deeply through his nose and kisses down the curve of your neck. He wraps his arms around your middle and splays his fingers across your lower back, lifting you slightly to provide a better angle for your pleasure… although he’s admittedly not aiming to get you off right now.

Trevor rocks forward in aborted movements. Your gummy inner walls hug his cock tightly, rubbing against the nerve endings along his shaft and tip in a way that has him panting in just minutes. 

Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, pushing into his hair. He feels like he can feel your nails scratching his scalp better now that he cut his hair shorter, even though that’s nonsensical. You sigh contentedly in his ear, chest rising and brushing his. “Fill me up, T,” you croon, pulling him even closer with the leg wrapped around his waist. “Know you want to. I’ll keep your cum inside all night and you can fuck me again in the morning. I’ll ride you, hm? How’s that?”

Trevor feels his cock throb, feels his balls grow tighter just before you clench down on him and he shoots off inside of you. Trevor feels like his brain turns to mush as he comes, his limbs loosening and lips smushing against your skin. He lays atop you when his cock is done twitching and leaking, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and soap and the natural smell that is so you. He could fall asleep right here.

You push at his shoulder and insist that he sleeps on his side of the bed rather than on top of you. 

Still, Trevor pulls you into his side and falls asleep with his nose against the crown of your head.

V.

You’ve been feeling especially feral today. You’re not sure why, but every time you look at Trevor, a lightning strike travels through your body and the energy settles riiight between your legs. 

He’s not even doing anything hot. You’re actually pretty sure you saw him biting his nails earlier and that itch on his nose might have been him digging for gold. You are not sure and you’d looked away so that you could give yourself the benefit of the doubt and convince yourself that, yes, he’d just been itching his nose. Nothing more than that. He’s not that gross. He might be a boy, but he’s not that gross. Surely.

Even if he is a gross, disgusting boy who bites his nails and might pick his nose when he thinks no one is looking… you’re absolutely feral for him today. 

Trevor is sitting on the couch watching TV. His legs are spread wide, creating a nice space just for you.

You’re sitting on the other end, torn between scrolling on your phone and staring at your boyfriend. You think you’re caught staring when Trevor’s hand shifts to his lap and covers his cock, the slight bulge of which you could see in his boxer-briefs. Your eyes widen, then your gaze flies to his face. 

And Trevor is just staring at the TV. He gives his cock an absentminded squeeze and moves his fingers over his length briefly, then stretches his arm out over the back of the couch.

You suddenly blink to yourself and draw your eyebrows together. Why the fuck are you still turned on by a man who just scratched his balls right in front of you?

You need to get this out of your system or else you’re going to be distracted for the rest of the day. So, for the first time, you approach your boyfriend and straddle his lap, planting yourself on his cock and grinding down. 

Trevor is delighted by this turn of events, you can tell by the silly smile on his face. His hands come to your sides and pinch your hips. “Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, his attention now on you rather than the screen.

“Take your cock out,” you command before tugging your shirt over your head and dropping it on the coffee table. “I want you to suck my tits while I fuck myself on it.”

Trevor’s eyes light up and he lifts his hips, shuffling his briefs down until his cock springs free. You can see it reacting to your presence and you wonder, very quickly, if he’s still itchy at all. You stamp the thought down and forget it as soon as it comes, rising up on your knees and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Since you’ve been turned on all day, your pussy has been ready to accept Trevor since the moment you clambered onto his lap. Once aligned, you sink down and take him. You move your hips in figure-eights, gyrating and finding the pleasure you enjoy. When you’re riding Trevor in an effort to make him come, you’ll bounce– but that’s never brought a climax to your body on its own. No, for you, it feels better when you rock your hips and roll your pelvis forward in a scooping motion, punctuated by a series of bounces here and there just to shake things up.

You close your eyes and lean your head back, facing the ceiling in a relaxed pose. You can feel yourself being consumed by the movement of Trevor’s cock inside of you and how it presses against sensitive spot after sensitive spot.

You’re sure if you look down right now, Trevor will be staring at you like he’s looking into the face of God. When you’d first talked about free use, he’d made it very clear that he didn’t want it to just be about him. He spoke at length about how if you wanted to use him, he’d be more than willing. In fact, over the time that you guys have been practicing this newfound kink, Trevor has had to remind you that he wants to be used. You’re finally doing it.

He fulfills your request shortly after you find your groove. His teeth encircle your nipple and tug, his hands wrapping around your back and pulling you closer like he just can’t get enough. He alternates between your breasts, licking and sucking until your nipples are wet, straining, and aching with pleasure. 

Your stomach thrums with excitement, clit swollen and making contact with Trevor’s abdomen when you swivel your hips just right. You repeat the motion over and over again until it’s just not enough, snaking a hand between your bodies so that you can rub your fingers over the bundle of nerves in rapid passes. You make a soft noise halfway between a whine and a squeal when the balloon of tension in your gut explodes and forces your eyes, closed as they are, to the back of your head. You swear that if your vision wasn’t black, you’d be able to see the back of your skull with how strong his orgasm is. 

Trevor moans against your tits, bucking up twice and spilling into your heat, adding to the mixture of warmth that is coursing through your body and making you feel like jelly. You sag against him and Trevor holds you tight, burying his face between your breasts and kissing your sternum. He stays there for only a moment before kissing a line up your neck to your lips. “Fuck, that was so sexy,” Trevor breathes out. “Let’s do it again.”

The harsh Michigan sun slipped through the thin curtains of the lake house, waking you in almost an instant. You grabbed the dark throw blanket off the ground, covering your face to shield your eyes. You shuffled, trying to settle in more carefully on the half deflated air mattress so you could get just five more minutes. You maybe got two hours of sleep last night, being kept awake by Trevor’s snoring from the bed above. Several times throughout the night, Cole got frustrated with his snoring and kicked him. Trevor kicked him right back, sending Cole straight down to your mattress. He never landed directly on top of you as you chose to sleep as far away from the boys as possible, but he did come close. It happened four times (yes you counted) throughout the night, deflating your mattress little by little each time Cole’s body was thrown down. You closed your eyes, balling your body up under the blanket as you quickly let yourself drift back to sleep.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Cole groaned sleepily at Trevor who was too deep into his slumber to hear. You heard the shuffle of Cole’s foot reaching to kick Trevor, rolling your eyes at what was about to happen. You pulled the blanket from off your head, moving over to the side to give Cole some space to land. Just five seconds later, Cole let out a slight scream, falling right next to you on the air mattress. You turned to look at him, anger evident in your eyes as he made himself comfortable on your makeshift bed. You quickly grabbed the pillow your head was lying on to hit him square in the face. 

“Ow! Trev-” He paused, opening his eyes which softened at the sight of you, even if you were furious. “Oh. Hey, baby.” He said with a soft smile, letting his eyes shut again as he reached his arm around to pull you close to him.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, scooching closer to the edge of the mattress as you sat yourself up straight. “Don’t ‘hey baby’ me!” You groaned, your mind still not fully awake. “You assholes kept me up all night!” Cole kept his eyes shut, nodding his head as he listened to your incoherent words. 

“Should’ve just slept down here with you.” He mumbled through his sleepy state, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you down. You scoffed, moving out of his grasp to stand next to the mattress. You crossed your arms, looking at Trevor who had his whole body splayed across the bed, then down at Cole whose smaller frame still managed to take over your territory. Somehow, the two boys were able to continue their sleep, even with the bright light shining through the window. You stared down at the scene before you, shaking your head in disbelief. It was like babysitting two toddlers who had somehow gained the bodies of grown men. Cole was already softly snoring again, his arm flung over the edge of the deflated air mattress where you had been moments before. Trevor, meanwhile, let out a particularly loud snore, causing him to twitch and sprawl even further across the bed above. You picked up a pillow from off the ground, throwing it at Trevor whose body didn’t even flinch at the action. You took one last look at the boys before huffing out your breath and exiting the room. You walked down the hallway, your legs wobbling slightly through your sleepy state. You were pissed when you found out you’d have to share a room with Trevor and Cole this trip. Normally it was Jack who shared with the two of them in his room, but he decided this year he wanted to “Bunk alone. For the greater good, you know?” whatever that means. The spare bedroom where you slept every year (alone might I add) had been quickly invaded by the two most testosterone filled creatures you knew, and you were not happy in the slightest. The lake house had always been your escape, but this year it felt more like torture. You made your way down the stairs, hair messy, voice groggy as Luke’s Michigan t-shirt fell slightly past your athletic shorts. You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass to pour yourself some water. 

“Mornin’” You heard a low voice hum through the quiet of the kitchen. You turned your head slowly, seeing Quinn walking down the stairs to the kitchen. His hair was ruffled messily in his face while the neckline of his t-shirt hung low. You tried your best to send him a smile as you continued to fill your glass at the fridge dispenser. He walked closer, placing a hand on your lower back as he shuffled behind you to get to the pantry which sent a quick shiver down your spine. 

“Morning,” you mumbled back, your voice still heavy with exhaustion as you sipped your water. The cool liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to fix the throbbing headache that lingered from your sleepless night.

Quinn grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry, his movements slow and deliberate, clearly still half-asleep himself. “Rough night?” he asked, his tone light but laced with understanding.

You let out a bitter laugh, rubbing your hands against your face. “Rough doesn’t begin to cover it.” You said, leaning against the counter as you looked at him. “Trevor snored all night, and every time he snored, Cole would kick him. Then, Trevor would kick Cole back, sending him flying down to my mattress.” Quinn’s face cringed up as you spoke. “Four motherfuckin’ times. And each time, my mattress deflated just a little more.” 

Quinn chuckled softly, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Sounds about right. I told Jack you’d kill him for sticking you with those two.”

“Oh, I’m definitely killing him,” you replied, crossing your arms. “This lake house is supposed to be my sanctuary, not…whatever that was.” You gestured toward the ceiling, as if the chaos of the night was still lingering above you. 

Quinn smirked, grabbing the milk from the fridge and shaking his head. “Jack probably thought it’d be funny. He’s always been the king of passing off the worst roommates.”

“Well, his reign ends today,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “I’m moving to the couch if I have to. No way I’m surviving another night like that.” 

Quinn paused mid-pour, glancing up at you with a hint of mischief in his expression. “You know…” he started, “My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical. “Is that your way of offering me your bed while you take the floor, or are you actually trying to convince me to sleep with you?” 

He grinned, unbothered by your teasing tone. “I’m offering you peace and quiet. What you make of it is up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I’ll think about it,” you said, taking another sip of water.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Luke shouted, his voice piercing through the quiet air as he ran into the kitchen. “It’s the first day at the lake! We’re wasting perfectly good hours of sunlight here.” You glared at Luke as you chugged the water, sending him a stern look. 

Quinn sighed, walking over to put an arm around your shoulders. “I think little miss sunshine over here needs a nap.” 

“She looks more like little miss raincloud.” Luke let out with a light chuckle. You quickly stretched out your leg, sending him a kick to the shin. “What the hell-”

“Stop being a dumbass.” You interrupted with a stern tone to your voice. 

Luke rubbed his shin dramatically, his face a mix of confusion and mock offense. “We just got here, and you’re already assaulting me?” 

“Consider it a warning,” you said, setting your glass down on the counter and narrowing your eyes at him. 

Quinn chuckled, keeping his arm around your shoulders. “She didn’t sleep last night. Trevor and Cole made sure of that.” 

“I heard my name, what’s going on?” Trevor came jogging down the stairs looking way too happy for your liking.

You groaned audibly, your head dropping into your hands as Trevor bounded into the kitchen, his grin almost as obnoxious as the snoring that kept you up all night. "Why are you so chipper?" you asked, your voice dripping with exhaustion and irritation.

Trevor shrugged, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. “Got a great night’s sleep, that’s why.” He peeled the banana, dramatically biting into it. “Man, I feel amazing.”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Oh, I’m so glad someone enjoyed their night.”

Trevor tilted his head, clearly enjoying your misery. “What’s the problem? Air mattress too lumpy for ya?”

“She’s mad because you snore like a freight train,” Quinn interjected, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “And because Cole used her mattress as a trampoline every time you kicked him off the bed.”

Trevor laughed, a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the kitchen. “That’s hilarious! Why didn’t anyone wake me up? I would’ve joined in.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now? I barely survived the night because of you two.”

Luke, still nursing his bruised shin, smirked from the corner. “You really should’ve just slept outside.”

“That’s it,” you said, throwing your hands up and stomping toward the doorway. “I’m finding Jack. At least he won’t mock me to my face.” 

Trevor called after you, still grinning. “Tell him we need more snacks! Oh, and maybe some earplugs for tonight!” You flipped him off without looking back, earning a loud cackle from the kitchen.

As you stepped into the living room, the sound of Jack's voice floated down from the upstairs balcony. "Yeah, I knew this would happen," he was saying, clearly talking to someone on the phone. "But hey, it’s not my problem."

You stormed up the stairs and into his room, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “Jack Hughes!” you yelled, startling him mid-sentence. He looked up at you, wide-eyed, as you jabbed a finger in his direction. “We need to talk. Now.” 

Jack stared at you, the phone still pressed to his ear as he sat up in his bed. “Uh, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said quickly, hanging up before you could even see who he was talking to. He set the phone on the nightstand and raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, don’t kill me. What’s this about?” 

“What’s this about?” you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is about you deciding to ditch Trevor and Cole on me. I know you masterminded this. ‘For the greater good,’ my ass.” 

Jack’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, which only fueled your anger. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said, trying to sound innocent. “I mean, come on, they’re not that annoying.” 

You shot him a glare so intense it could’ve melted steel. “They are exactly that annoying. Trevor’s snoring was like sharing a room with a lawnmower, and Cole-” You stopped yourself, throwing your hands up. “I don’t even have words for what Cole did to my air mattress.”

Jack finally broke, laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed. “Oh man, this is even better than I thought.” 

“It’s not funny, Jack!” you snapped, but his laughter was contagious, and you felt the corner of your mouth twitch despite yourself. 

He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. “Okay, fine, I’ll make it up to you. How about this, you can sleep in my room tonight. I’ll take the couch.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, weighing your options. As much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, a full night’s sleep in a decent bed sounded like heaven. “Fine,” you said, pointing at him. “But you’re on thin ice. Scoot over.” You quickly walked over to climb into bed next to Jack, making yourself comfortable under the blankets. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, grinning down at you from his sitting position. 

You looked up at him once and then closed your eyes, shifting your head against the pillow. “Taking a nap in my bed.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Your bed, huh? I don’t remember signing off on that.” 

Without opening your eyes, you muttered, “You forfeited ownership when you subjected me to Trevor and Cole. Consider this reparations.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooted over to make room. “Fine. But if you start snoring, I’m kicking you out.” 

You peeked one eye open, glaring at him. “Unlike some people in this house, I have normal human sleep habits. No snoring, no body-slamming, no dramatics.” 

Jack leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

“Not if you don’t shut up and let me sleep,” you mumbled, already nestling deeper into the blankets. The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and the faint scent of Jack’s cologne lingering on the pillow didn’t hurt either. Within minutes, your body began to relax, exhaustion taking over. Jack stayed where he was, scrolling on his phone and glancing at you every so often. The corners of his mouth tugged upward as he watched your breathing slow, your features softening in sleep. Despite the chaos earlier, he couldn’t help but feel a little smug. As you shifted slightly, your hand brushed against his leg, and Jack froze, his gaze flicking down to where your fingers rested against his knee. A faint blush crept up his neck, but he quickly shook his head, muttering to himself. “Nope. Nope.” Still, he didn’t move, staying right where he was to make sure you got your much needed nap. After all, if you woke up cranky again, he was pretty sure you’d murder someone, and it probably wouldn’t be Trevor or Cole. Jack scrolled mindlessly on his phone, glancing at you every now and then as you slept peacefully beside him. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the contrast between your current state and the fiery temper you’d displayed just an hour ago. He was used to your sarcastic remarks and quick comebacks, but seeing you this calm, curled up in his bed, was different. He sighed, tossing his phone to the side and letting his head fall back against the headboard. It was still early in the day, but the lake house was already buzzing with chaos. From the sounds of it, Trevor had probably convinced Luke to start some sort of ridiculous competition outside, and Quinn was likely refereeing with an eye roll and a resigned sigh. Jack was tempted to join them, but his eyes drifted back to you. He knew you’d been looking forward to this trip as much as anyone, and now, thanks to his little prank with the room assignments, you were already worn out. Maybe he’d gone too far this time. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as you shifted closer to his side. Jack froze, not wanting to wake you, but when your head lightly bumped against his arm, he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across his face.

 “Great,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with mock annoyance. “Now I’m a pillow.” You didn’t respond, of course, but your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t used to this; being this close to you without the usual teasing or bickering. It felt...nice. 

The sound of the door slamming downstairs startled him, followed by Trevor’s unmistakable shout. “Jack! Where are you? It’s boatin’ time!” Jack groaned, glancing down at you. Your face scrunched up slightly at the noise, and he could tell you were seconds away from waking up. 

Before you could fully stir, Jack leaned down, his voice soft. “Do you wanna go for a boat ride or stay here longer?” 

You let out a heavy sigh, moving your head from Jack’s arm to rub your eyes. “I guess I should probably go.” He smiled down at your sleepy state, running his hand through your hair as you woke up. 

Jack’s touch was light, almost hesitant, as his fingers combed through your hair. “You sure?” he asked softly, his grin teasing but warm. “I can fend them off if you wanna sleep longer.”

You groaned, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “If I stay, they’ll just find a way to drag me out of here anyway,” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep. Your eyes flicked to Jack, catching the way he was watching you. His grin softened into something gentler, and it made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Fair point,” he said, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go tame the animals.” You took his hand lightly, letting go as soon as you stood up. You and Jack parted ways when you reached the spare room. He made his way downstairs to the dock while you put on your bathing suit. You entered the room, not bothering to lock it since everyone was already outside. You let out a dramatic yawn, stretching your arms above your head before grabbing your swimsuit. You opted for a forest green triangle bikini with side tie bottoms. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment before taking off your shirt, just looking at your tired eyes. Dark circles had formed and you looked utterly exhausted. You grasped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before removing your shorts. You slipped on the bottoms first before reaching for your top. You slipped it over your body first, then flipped the backside to the front to retie the strings. You were topless fiddling with the strings when you heard the door swing open.  

“Hey babe-” Cole stood at the door, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of you with no top. He was like a deer in headlights, making direct eye contact with your breasts. His mouth parted slightly as his eyes widened. 

“Cole! Get out!” You yelled, knocking him back into reality. He covered his eyes with his hands as he let out a slight scream.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He cried out as he stood there with his eyes covered. “I didn’t see anything! I swear!” 

You stood there, flustered as you tried to cover yourself with your arms. “Why are you still standing there?!” You scolded. 

“I-I-I-I don’t know!” He shook his head, still standing there. 

You shook your head, letting it hang for a moment. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” You muttered. “Get out, Cole!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” He cried out, still in disbelief at what he’d just seen. He turned his body around, eyes still covered as he walked towards the door. His memory of the layout had betrayed him quickly as his head made direct contact with the door in front of him. You quickly tied your bikini top on before walking closer to him. 

You sighed, torn between annoyance and concern, as Cole stumbled slightly, rubbing his forehead. “Cole, are you okay?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He peeked through his fingers, cautiously lowering his hands when he realized you were now covered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as a bright blush spread across his cheeks. “Didn’t mean to barge in…I didn’t know you were in here.” As he turned to leave, the door swung open again. This time revealing Quinn, who immediately froze, taking in the scene. You in your swimsuit, Cole looking flustered and guilty. 

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh... what’s going on here?”

Cole stammered, pointing at you as if that would somehow explain everything. “I-it’s not what it looks like!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache forming. “Cole accidentally walked into the room while I was changing. End of story.” 

Quinn’s lips twitched, but he fought to keep a straight face. “Accidentally, huh?” He glanced at Cole, then back at you, his teasing smirk forming. “You sure you weren’t just trying to put on a show, sunshine?”

Your face burned as you shot him a glare. “Quinn, don’t even start.” 

Cole held up his hands, desperate to escape the situation. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving!” He practically bolted out the door, muttering apologies under his breath as Quinn stepped aside to let him pass. 

You groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “If anyone makes one joke about this, I’m throwing them off the boat.” You looked up at Quinn who was wearing a perfect, teasing smile. He had his yankees hat on backwards, his canucks shirt fitting perfectly over his build. If you weren’t stressing about the moments just before, you’d be absolutely drooling over him right now. 

Quinn chuckled, pushing off the door to walk closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll back you up. But for the record...” He sat beside you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “I don’t blame Cole for freezing. You’re kind of hard to look away from.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his tone, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.” 

He laughed, standing up and extending a hand to you. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go make sure Trevor hasn’t capsized the boat yet.” 

You rolled your eyes but took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “If he has, we’re throwing him in the lake.”

Quinn grinned, his hand lingering in yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Deal.” Quinn led you out of the room, his hand brushing yours as you both descended the stairs toward the dock. Outside, the sun glinted off the water, and the sound of laughter and splashing filled the air. Trevor was already in the lake, standing on the edge of the boat, waving his arms dramatically. 

“Come on!” He yelled. “We're losing precious hours of sunlight!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you and Quinn made your way down to the dock. You slipped one of Cole’s t-shirts over your head that you’d swiped from the room before heading down, not wanting to be fully exposed just yet. “O’captain o’captain,” Trevor started with a terrible fake British accent. “Come to ye mighty wheel and commandeer this ship from lord Luke.” 

You made your way onto the boat, sending Trevor a nudge that almost pushed him into the water. “Shut up.” You mumbled, taking your spot in one of the seats, isolated from everyone else. You tucked your legs underneath yourself as you leaned your elbow on the edge of the boat. 

You looked over at Trevor who rebalanced himself, jumping back into the boat with a smug grin. “Heard about your ‘bodacious rack’.” He said with a slight laugh. Your face flushed and you scoffed, turning to Cole who sat in front of you.

Fear struck his eye at the sight of your glare. “You told them that?” You scolded. 

“No, no! T-That’s not what I said.” He let out with a nervous laugh and a sheepish smile, straightening his posture. 

“Uh, that’s exactly what you said.” Luke chimed in, taking a sip of his beer. 

Your jaw dropped, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling up as you glared at Cole. “Seriously?” you said, crossing your arms. “Cole, you’ve got about five seconds to explain yourself before I toss you in the lake.” 

Cole raised his hands defensively, his face already bright red. “Wait, wait, wait! It wasn’t like that- I swear! I didn’t say it like that.” 

Trevor, of course, was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, but you did, buddy. Don’t try to backtrack now.” He mimicked Cole’s voice, dramatically exaggerated. “‘Man, I saw everything. Her whole top was down and she’s got this bodacious rack.’ Classic, Cole.” 

Luke snorted into his beer, clearly enjoying the show, while Quinn groaned from the driver’s seat, his head falling back slightly in exasperation. “Trevor, do you ever stop instigating?”

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “I’m just here to deliver the truth.”

Cole stammered, his words coming out in a jumbled mess. “I-I didn’t mean it like- like that! It was…it was an observation, okay?!” His hands flew up as if that would somehow help his case. “I was just- it slipped out, and then Trevor-” He gestured wildly toward Trevor, who was enjoying this far too much. “He made it worse!”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, so it’s Trevor’s fault now?”

“Absolutely!” Cole nodded enthusiastically, latching onto the lifeline. “Trevor twisted my words!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh despite your irritation. Turning to Quinn, who was still steering the boat, you said, “Can we leave Trevor and Cole stranded on an island somewhere?”

Quinn smirked, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Tempting, but then who would provide the entertainment?”

“Jack can,” you quipped, giving Jack a pointed look. “He’s just as bad.” 

Jack raised his drink in a mock toast. “Guilty as charged.” You looked over at Trevor who was still wearing a wide smile. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you settled further into your seat, occasionally glancing over at Cole.

“Now I feel like I can’t take my shirt off.” You mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses on your head. 

Luke laughed slightly, walking over to sit next to you. “Don’t be ridiculous, bunny. You can take off your shirt.”

You looked over at him, a glare in your eye as he made himself comfortable next to you. “I really can’t.”

“It’s fine.” He said, his voice low. “You’ve done it a million times before, what’s so different about today?” You sighed, rolling your eyes once again. Reluctantly you grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up your body. Once you had the shirt halfway up, you glanced over at Cole. He was staring, watching as you slowly removed your shirt. His mouth was parted slightly and you could've sworn drool was going to slip out. 

“Nope, nope.” You said, still holding your shirt up. “Can’t do it.” You said glancing over at Luke. 

Jack groaned from his seat, tossing his head back slightly. “You're such a baby.”

“Look at Cole!” You pointed toward Cole, whose wide-eyed stare was a dead giveaway. 

His face turned even redder, and he immediately scrambled to defend himself. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t staring! I swear!” he stammered, his hands flailing wildly as if that would erase the moment. 

Trevor burst out laughing, practically doubling over. “Oh man, Cole, you’re making it so much worse!” 

“Exactly!” you shot back, lowering your shirt again and crossing your arms over your chest. “This is why I can’t take it off.”

Jack, who had been observing the chaos with growing impatience, groaned again. “For the love of god, we’re on a lake. You’re wearing a bikini. Just take it off and let Cole get over it already.”

“Easy for you to say!” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “No one’s staring at you.” 

Trevor perked up, his grin widening. “I could stare at Jack if it makes you feel better.” 

Jack threw a bottle cap at him. “Shut up, Trevor.”

Luke, meanwhile, nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Come on, Bunny. You’re overthinking it. It’s just us.” You sighed, glancing between Luke’s calm expression and Cole’s absolute mortification. Despite the teasing, you knew Luke was right. You’d done this a hundred times before, just not after that incident. 

“Fine,” you muttered, your voice begrudging as you peeled the shirt off in one swift motion. You avoided Cole’s gaze entirely, tossing the shirt onto Luke’s lap for good measure. “There. Happy?” 

Luke smirked, casually picking up the shirt and tossing it toward the front of the boat. “Much better.” 

“Get me a drink?” You asked, pulling your hair into a bun. Luke nodded his head, walking to the cooler and returning with a peach high noon. He handed it over before returning to his spot next to you. He splayed his arm across the back of the boat behind you as you tucked closer into his side.  You leaned back on Luke's side, your legs tucked up in front of you as you cracked open the can, staring at Quinn pulling the boat from the dock. “This is nice.” You said with a sigh of relief, leaning your head back to look up at Luke. 

Luke glanced down at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile as his arm shifted slightly to rest more securely behind you. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that it felt like it was just for you. “It is.” The boat cut smoothly through the lake, the gentle hum of the engine blending with the sound of water lapping against the hull. The sun was warm, the breeze just cool enough to keep things comfortable, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt completely at ease. 

“Hey, Sunny,” Trevor said, walking over to sit next to you.

“Oh my god.” You groaned out as he took his spot. You lifted your legs so he could sit, then rested them on his lap. “What do you want?” 

Trevor lifted his hands in mock surrender, a smug grin forming across his face. “Just wanted to apologize.”

​​You raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Trevor’s sudden attempt at sincerity. “Apologize?” you echoed, crossing your arms as your legs remained draped over his lap. “What’s the catch?”

​​Trevor placed a hand over his heart, his grin never wavering. “No catch. I just felt bad about earlier, you know, with the whole…‘bodacious rack’ thing.” He paused dramatically, glancing at Luke, who was watching him with narrowed eyes. “I realize now that my words may have caused some…discomfort.”

“Oh, you realize now?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. 

Trevor nodded solemnly, but his playful expression betrayed him. “Absolutely. So, to make it up to you…” He leaned in closer, his grin growing wider. “I’m offering you the first push when we inevitably throw Luke into the lake.”

Luke snorted, shaking his head. “You’re really working hard to shift the blame, aren’t you?”

“Trevor, the human deflection machine,” you muttered, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink. “Your apology could use some work.”

“Hey, I’m trying here!” Trevor said, leaning back dramatically as he adjusted your legs on his lap. “But seriously, Sunny, no hard feelings, right?” 

You studied him for a moment, his ridiculous grin and puppy-dog eyes impossible to stay mad at for long. Finally, you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. No hard feelings.” 

Trevor pumped his fist in victory. “Yes! See, Luke? That’s how you handle things like a mature adult.”

Luke smirked, his arm brushing against your shoulder as he leaned closer. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t know maturity if it hit you in the face.”

“Bold words from the guy who’s about to be pushed in,” Trevor shot back, winking at you as if to say game on. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the chaos brewing. “You’re both children.”

“Children with impeccable charm,” Trevor quipped, holding out his fist for you to bump. 

You ignored his fist but gave him a teasing shove instead. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” Trevor let out a gentle laugh as he leaned back in his seat. You shuffled your position, lounging further into Luke’s side. You glanced over at Cole who sat awkwardly as he talked to Jack, looking uncomfortable as ever. You frowned slightly at the sight. You were used to Cole constantly hitting on you, showering you with compliments, and you wouldn’t admit it but you missed it. “Cole!” You shouted in an attempt to gain his attention. He quickly whipped his head over to you, his face flushing slightly. “Those swim trunks look nice on you.” You said with a smirk before pushing your sunglasses further up the bridge of your nose, leaning your head back to look up at the sky. 

Cole’s eyes widened, his posture stiffening as a flush crept up his neck. “Uh- thanks,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. His gaze darted to Jack, who smirked knowingly, giving him a little shove.

“Relax, man,” Jack teased. “She’s just messing with you.” 

“Am I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly, your tone teasing as you kept your sunglasses on. You didn’t bother looking directly at Cole, but you could feel his nervous energy from across the boat. It was almost too easy. 

Trevor let out a low whistle, leaning forward from his seat. “Rare occurrence to see her flirting with you. Not even gonna attempt one, Caufield?” 

“Yeah, normally you treat her like she’s the love of your life.” Luke chuckled, his arm shifting slightly. 

Cole let out a heavy sigh, his face turning bright pink which he tried to cover with his sunglasses. “Alright,” He started, his voice shaky at first. “Come over here, hot stuff.” A satisfied smile wiped across your face as you got up from your spot leaning against Luke. Cole’s sudden confidence caught everyone off guard, including you. As you made your way over, you couldn’t help but smirk, your sunglasses hiding the glint of amusement in your eyes. 

“Hot stuff, huh?” you teased, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. “Big talk for someone who’s been blushing like crazy all day.” 

Cole leaned back slightly, regaining some composure now that he’d committed to the bit. “Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he replied, his voice steadier but still tinged with nervous energy. He patted the spot next to him. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” You glanced at the others, all of whom were watching with varying degrees of amusement. Trevor was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning insanely hard. Jack looked seconds away from gagging, and Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Cole’s sudden bravado. 

Sliding into the seat next to Cole, you leaned into him slightly, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “So, what’s the plan now, Mr. Smooth Talker?”

Cole chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Trevor erupted into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh man, this is gold. Caufield finally shoots his shot and fumbles it immediately.”

Jack groaned, leaning back with a hand over his face. “This is painful to watch.”

You shook your head, biting back a laugh as you leaned closer to Cole. “Relax,” you said, your voice softer now. “You’re doing fine.” 

“Fine?” Cole repeated, his confidence returning slightly. “I think I’m doing great, actually. You’re sitting here, aren’t you?” 

Luke, who had been quiet for the past few moments, finally chimed in. “Don’t get used to it, Cole. She’ll be back here in, like, two minutes.” 

You turned your head, narrowing your eyes at Luke. “Oh, really?”

Luke shrugged, his smirk smug. “Yeah. You’re just messing with him. I know how this works, Bunny.”

Cole crossed his arms, leaning back as he grinned at Luke. “Jealous, Hughes?”

Luke rolled his eyes, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck. “Hardly,” he muttered.

Trevor clapped his hands together, clearly living for the drama. “Alright, let’s settle this with a little wager. How long does she stay over there before she’s back at Luke’s side?”

Jack groaned louder this time, standing up. “I’m jumping in the lake. Someone let me know when this disaster ends.” As Jack dove off the side of the boat, the group erupted into laughter, the tension breaking as you leaned back against the seat, still smirking. 

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

Cole grinned, nudging you lightly. “Yeah, but you love us anyway.” You couldn’t argue with that.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After a long day of sitting in the sun, swimming in the lake, and dealing with Trevor, Quinn finally pulled the boat back into the dock. The sun was already setting when you stepped off, Cole’s hand out gallantly to help. You took it gratefully as you stepped onto the dock, the air already cooling down which left you freezing in your bikini. 

“Cold?” Treavor asked, walking up next to you.

Your teeth chattered as you tried to warm your arms with your hands. “Very.”

Trevor let out a soft laugh, looking over at you. “Race you to the house.” He said before taking off, sprinting through the yard.

“Not fair, Trevor!” You giggled, following close behind him. As you took off after Trevor, the cool grass tickling your feet, you couldn’t help but laugh despite the chill creeping into your skin. The fading sunlight painted the yard in shades of orange and gold, and Trevor’s exaggerated sprint ahead of you was just enough motivation to push you to keep up. 

“Come on, Sunny!” Trevor yelled over his shoulder, his voice full of mischief. “Can’t let me win that easily!”  Trevor reached the porch first, dramatically throwing his arms in the air. “Victory is mine!” he declared, spinning around to face you as you came to a stop, slightly out of breath. “Man, you’re slow.” 

You rolled your eyes, still laughing. “You had a head start, idiot.” 

Before Trevor could respond, Jack jogged up from behind, tossing a towel over your shoulders. “Here,” he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to Trevor’s boisterous teasing. “You’re freezing.” 

You gave him a grateful smile, pulling the towel tight around yourself. “Thanks, Jack. At least someone’s a gentleman.” 

Trevor feigned offense, holding his hand to his chest. “Wow. That hurts, Sunny.”

“It’s true,” Luke said as he strolled up the steps, shaking his head. “You ditch her in a bikini to sprint to the house, and you think you’re winning points?” 

Trevor shrugged, unapologetic. “She had fun.” 

“I’m gonna hit you,” you said, your voice light despite the threat. 

“Promises, promises,” Trevor quipped, dodging past you and into the house before you could retaliate. As you stepped inside, the warm air enveloped you like a hug, and the sound of the others following behind filled the space with a cozy buzz. 

Quinn wandered in last, shaking his head at the lingering chaos. “Do you guys ever relax?” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. 

You plopped onto the couch, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “Relaxing is overrated,” you teased, looking up at Quinn. “Right, Quinny?” 

Quinn rolled his eyes but smirked as he tossed a sweatshirt your way. “Here. Before you start whining about being cold again.” 

“Whining?” you repeated, feigning shock as you pulled the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re lucky I like you, Hughes.” 

“Luckiest man alive,” he echoed dryly, shaking his head as he disappeared into the kitchen. You let out a sigh, sinking into the warmth of the couch. You sat back for a moment, watching Trevor and Jack laugh about something on Jack’s phone, Cole mumbling the lyrics to ‘Cardigan’ by Taylor Swift, Luke and Quinn searching the fridge for water bottles, just admiring the scene. You couldn’t have been happier anywhere else, and you were glad you finally made it to the lakehouse. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” You said, standing up from the couch. “Cole, please don’t barge in. I’ll lock the door just in case.” 

Cole, mid-verse in his rendition of Cardigan, froze, his face turning red as everyone burst out laughing. “Don’t do that!” he protested, his voice tinged with mock offense. “It was an accident!” 

Trevor smirked, leaning against the back of the couch. “Doesn’t mean we don’t expect it, lover boy.”

“Trevor, shut up,” Cole grumbled, glaring at him. “You’re the one who can’t go two minutes without harassing her.” 

“Hey, I’m just here to make her day a little brighter,” Trevor quipped, winking at you. “I’d never cross the bathroom boundary.” 

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the towel Jack had draped over you earlier. “Good to know the bar is that low. Thanks for clearing that up, Zegras.” 

Jack looked up from his phone, smirking. “Lock the door anyway. These guys are like wild animals.”

“Speak for yourself!” Luke called from the kitchen, holding up a water bottle like it was proof of his innocence. You giggled, ruffling Jack’s hair as you made your way up the stairs. 

You loved the lake, but if you were being honest, it made you feel disgusting. Sitting in the heat all day paired with swimming in water where you couldn’t see the bottom was bound to shake you up. You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water entrap your body, washing away every germ on your body. The steam from the hot water filled the small bathroom, cocooning you in warmth as the water cascaded over your skin. It was a relief, both physically and mentally, to scrub away the day’s grime. The mix of sunscreen, lake water, and sweat felt like a distant memory as you lathered soap over your skin, enjoying the sensation of being truly clean again. You tilted your head back, letting the water soak your hair, rinsing away the tangles left by the wind and water. The faint scent of your favorite shampoo filled the air, calming you further as you massaged it into your scalp. The day had been fun, filled with laughter and a little chaos, but this moment, just you and the hot water, felt like exactly what you needed to recharge. You stepped out of the shower, throwing a fresh towel over your body as you walked out of the bathroom. You headed down the hallway, hearing the faint sounds of everyone laughing. It was like music to your ears. You slipped into the spare room, making sure to lock the door behind you this time. You dropped the towel, taking a moment to fix your hair in the mirror before throwing one of Trevor’s Ducks sweatshirts over your head, along with some small athletic shorts. The soft fabric of Trevor’s sweatshirt engulfed you, its faint scent of laundry detergent and cologne oddly comforting. You smiled to yourself, knowing full well Trevor would make a big deal out of you “stealing” his sweatshirt the second he noticed. But for now, it was your little secret. You padded back down the stairs, the wood creaking softly under your bare feet. The living room came into view, and sure enough, chaos was in full swing. Trevor was standing on the couch, dramatically reenacting some story, while Cole was doubled over in laughter. Jack looked utterly unimpressed, scrolling on his phone, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. Luke was sprawled across the floor, throwing an occasional quip into the mix, and Quinn leaned against the wall, shaking his head but clearly amused. You walked over to Quinn first, wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug. You leaned your head against his chest, taking in his fresh scent. Judging by his wet hair and the warmth of his clothes, he’d also showered, unlike the other guys. 

“I’m so exhausted.” You croaked out, digging your face further into his chest.

Quinn chuckled softly, his hand instinctively resting on the back of your head as he returned the hug. “Long day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and soothing. 

“You have no idea,” you mumbled, your words slightly muffled by his shirt. “Between the lake, the sun, and Trevor being Trevor, I’m wiped.” 

He smirked, his hand brushing gently down your back before he pulled away slightly to look at you. “You still gonna have energy to deal with round two tomorrow?”

You groaned, leaning against him. “I might need to sleep for like, twenty hours first.” 

He shook his head, his smirk softening as he looked back at you. “Go sit down before you fall asleep standing up.” You nodded, letting him guide you toward the couch where Jack quickly shuffled to make room. You plopped down beside him, tucking your legs under you as you pulled Trevor’s oversized sweatshirt tighter around your body. 

“Nice sweatshirt, Sunny,” Trevor said, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed. “Looks familiar.” 

You glanced up at him with an innocent smile. “Oh, this? No idea where it came from.” 

Jack snorted. “You’ll never get it back anyway. She’s stubborn.” 

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, leaning back and resting your head against Jack’s shoulder. “It’s mine now. Deal with it.” 

Trevor rolled his eyes but grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Fine. But only because it looks better on you.” 

“Everything looks better on her.” Cole let out with a soft smile as he laid back on the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Smooth, Caufield. Very smooth.” The group erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but smile, the exhaustion of the day melting away as you relaxed into the warmth and chaos of this little family. 

“Alright,” Quinn started, raising a hand as he stood in front of the couch. “First night at the house, what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza!” You shouted, raising both your hands in the air. 

Jack chuckled, putting his arm around your waist to pull you up closer. “Yes, pizza!” He yelled.

Quinn smirked, shaking his head at the sudden burst of energy. “Alright, pizza it is. Who’s calling it in?” 

“Not me,” Trevor said, holding his hands up defensively. “Last time I ordered, you all complained about the toppings.” 

“That’s because you thought anchovies were a good idea,” Luke quipped from his spot on the floor. “You’re banned from ordering.” 

“Hey, anchovies are a valid choice,” Trevor shot back, pointing a finger at Luke. “You’re just uncultured.”

Quinn sighed, already pulling his phone out. “Fine. What do we want?”

“Pepperoni,” Jack said immediately, his arm still casually draped around you. “Keep it classic.”

“Hawaiian,” Cole suggested, earning groans from most of the group.

“No pineapple!” you and Jack exclaimed in unison, making the others laugh. 

“Alright, alright, pepperoni and maybe a veggie for balance,” Quinn said, ignoring the chaos as he dialed the number. “Anything else?”

“Breadsticks!” Luke called out, raising his water bottle like it was a toast.

“And wings!” Trevor added, clearly back in high-energy mode.

Quinn sighed but nodded, pacing to the corner of the room as he started placing the order. “You guys are lucky I’m feeling generous.”

You leaned back against Jack, letting out a contented sigh. “See? This is why you’re my favorite, Quinn.”

“Careful, Sunny,” Trevor teased. “Jack might get jealous.”

Jack scoffed, giving your side a playful squeeze. “Please. I’m her favorite, and we all know it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “Debatable.” The group laughed, and the warmth of the moment settled over you like a blanket. The boys continued their chatter as Quinn called the pizza place from the corner. You pulled out your phone as Jack moved to the corner of the couch, pulling you along with him. You rested your back against him, his arm draped around you, tracing careful circles on your skin. As you scrolled through your phone, you couldn’t help but feel the soothing rhythm of Jack’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. It was a small gesture, but one that anchored you amidst the playful chaos surrounding you. The hum of the boys’ voices filled the room, their laughter punctuated by Trevor’s dramatic retelling of some ridiculous story, likely exaggerated for effect. You scrolled on instagram, catching a post by the Devils of Nico and Timo. Your curiosity took over as you pressed on Nico’s tag, beginning to scroll through his profile. You smiled, looking at pictures of him back home in Switzerland. One of him crouching next to a dog in a flower field made you blush as you zoomed in on his face. 

“Why are you looking at Nico’s instagram?” Jack asked, his voice quiet.

“Why are you looking at my phone?” You snapped back, leaning your head up to look at him. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re on my teammate’s profile, zooming in on his face. It’s hard not to notice.” 

You huffed your breath, setting your phone down. “Maybe, if you just let me have a shot at him I wouldn’t-”

“Oh no, no, no,” He interrupted. “No way in hell am I gonna let you do that. We’ve been over this.” 

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back to fully face him, his arm still resting loosely around you. “Excuse me?” you said, your tone dripping with mock offense. “Let me? Since when do you get to decide who I can or can’t date?” 

Jack’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a stubborn set to his jaw. “Since it’s Nico,” he said firmly, his voice low. “He’s not some random guy you can flirt with. He’s my captain. My teammate.” 

“And?” you countered, crossing your arms. “What does that have to do with me? It’s not like I’m asking for your permission.” Jack groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What, are you worried I’d distract him? Or embarrass you?” 

“No!” Jack said quickly, but the flicker of guilt in his expression made you narrow your eyes. 

“Wow, that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief. “You think I’d embarrass you.” 

Jack sighed, his hand still tracing slow circles on your arm as if trying to calm the brewing storm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” you pressed, your voice softer now but still holding its edge.

Jack hesitated, his eyes flickering down to where his hand rested on your arm. “I just…It’s complicated, princess. Just- shit I'd rather not get into right now.” He said, his hand moving to rub his face. You softened slightly at Jack’s uncharacteristic hesitation. It wasn’t often he struggled to find the words, and the way his hand rubbed his face told you he was trying to bury something deeper than the surface-level teasing you were used to.

“It’s complicated?” you repeated, your tone quieter now, curiosity lacing your words. “Jack, you know that’s not gonna fly with me. Just spit it out.” 

Jack sighed, dropping his hand from his face to rest it on the back of the couch. “It’s just… weird, okay? You and Nico. I can’t explain it.” 

You tilted your head, studying him as he avoided your gaze. “Weird how? Like, you’re protective of him? Or…?” You trailed off, waiting for him to fill the silence. 

Jack let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, alright? I don’t want to see you with him. It’s not about Nico. It’s about…you.” 

Your stomach flipped at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. “About me?”

Jack finally met your eyes, his gaze steady and uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah. About you. I’m used to having you around, and I don’t want anything to change.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. “Jack-”

“It’s stupid, okay?” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could say more. “Just forget I said anything.” 

You shook your head, sitting up straighter. “No, it’s not stupid. Jack, if you’re trying to tell me something, just say it. I’m not gonna bite.”

He groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “It’s not that easy.” 

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Then make it easy. It’s me, Jack. You can tell me.” Jack sighed again, his eyes flicking back to yours. For a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but then Trevor’s loud voice broke through the tension. 

“Hey! Pizza’s here!” Trevor yelled from the front door, his excitement cutting through the quiet.

Jack immediately pulled away, the moment dissipating as he ran a hand down his face again. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, standing up and avoiding your gaze. You stayed on the couch, watching him go as your mind raced. There was something there, something he wasn’t ready to admit, but the weight of his words lingered, leaving you wondering what exactly he was holding back. 

“You good, bunny?” Luke asked, standing in front of you as you processed the interaction with Jack.

“Yeah, yeah. I-I’m good.” You stammered out, getting up from your seat on the couch. 

Luke smiled, placing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “Good. We have a pizza to demolish.” He said, shaking you slightly in his arm. ​​You laughed softly, allowing Luke to guide you toward the dining area where the rest of the guys were already gathering around the table. Trevor was handing out plates with exaggerated flair, Cole was busy inspecting the pizza boxes like he was on quality control duty, and Quinn was unboxing the breadsticks with the precision of a surgeon. Jack was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. His expression was unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the pizza. You felt a twinge in your chest, but Luke’s arm around your shoulders helped ground you.

“Sunshine, c’mere.” Quinn said from the counter where he unboxed the breadsticks. You escaped Luke’s grasp, skipping over towards where Quinn stood. You got up next to him, putting your face close to his as he looked down at the box. 

“What’s up?” You asked playfully.

“Got these just for you,” He said, holding up two small containers of ranch. “Don’t let Cole see ‘em.” He laughed quietly before slipping them into the pocket of your hoodie.

You beamed at Quinn, his quiet thoughtfulness making your chest warm. “You’re the best,” you said, slipping your arms around his waist for a quick hug. 

“Don’t let that get out,” he teased, patting the top of your head affectionately. “Gotta keep my reputation intact.” 

Trevor, never one to miss a beat, leaned against the counter dramatically. “I feel like I’m missing out on a secret conspiracy. Sunny, spill the tea.” 

“Um there is no tea,” you replied, grabbing a slice of pizza and making your way back to the table. “Unless you count Quinn looking insanely good handling those breadsticks.” 

Trevor’s jaw dropped in mock shock as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. “Whoa, whoa, pause. Is this the first time you’ve hit on Quinn outside the group chat?” Trevor asked, pointing dramatically between you and Quinn. Quinn, unfazed, smirked and shook his head, placing the breadsticks on the table.

Jack, who had been leaning back in his chair, finally chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, princess, tell us more about Quinn’s breadstick skills.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting into your pizza. “Don’t be jealous, Hughes. It’s not a good look on you.”

Jack’s smirk faltered, his brow arching slightly as he stared you down. “Jealous? Of him?” He gestured toward Quinn. “I don’t need breadsticks to be the favorite.” 

“Debatable,” Luke quipped from his spot, grinning. “Quinn’s got the ranch hookup. That’s game changing.”

“Thank you, Luke!” you said, gesturing toward him with your slice. “Finally, someone understands the value of ranch.” 

Cole, however, narrowed his eyes suspiciously, leaning forward in his chair. “Wait. Ranch? Where’s the ranch?” 

“Uh, nowhere,” you said quickly, pulling the hoodie pocket closer to your body. Cole’s gaze darted toward Quinn, then back to you.

Quinn raised his hands in mock innocence. “Don’t look at me, Caufield. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“There’s no ranch,” you said firmly, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. The dinner consisted of stories about past summers, laughs over things Cole had said, Luke attempting to do a backflip in the kitchen which ended with a face plant to the floor and a “You’re gonna get injured before the season even starts” from Quinn. You smiled, taking in the scene before you, just grateful you made it to this moment. After you all finished with dinner, everyone made their way to the back deck for a bonfire while you and Quinn stayed back to clean up. The soft hum of laughter and chatter drifted in from the back deck as you and Quinn gathered plates and empty pizza boxes. The kitchen felt warm, not just from the remnants of the oven’s heat but from the lingering joy of the evening. You caught Quinn’s eye as he stacked a few plates, his expression calm and content.

“Hey, is Jack acting…weird- to you?” You asked, cutting Quinn off guard as he finished stacking the plates. 

Quinn paused, his hand hovering over the stack of plates as he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Weird how?” he asked, his tone steady but curious. 

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I don’t know, he’s just been... quieter than usual. And earlier, he said some stuff that didn’t really make sense. Like, he wanted to say something but couldn’t.” 

Quinn tilted his head, considering your words. “Jack’s always been a little hard to read. But yeah, now that you mention it, he did seem a little off tonight.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “It’s like he’s holding something back, but I can’t figure out what. It’s...frustrating.” 

Quinn’s eyes softened as he studied your face. “You two are close. Maybe he’s trying to work through something but doesn’t know how to talk about it yet.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze drifting toward the back door where the sound of Trevor’s exaggerated laugh carried through. “I just feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

Quinn set the plates aside and turned to face you fully, his expression calm and reassuring. “Give him some time. If it’s important, he’ll talk to you when he’s ready. Jack’s stubborn, but he’s not one to keep things bottled up forever.” 

You smiled faintly, appreciating his steady presence. “Thanks, Quinny. You always know what to say.” 

He smirked, bumping your shoulder lightly. “Someone’s gotta keep the peace around here.” The two of you stood there in silence for a moment. Quinn, glancing down at the floor, fiddling with the keys in his pocket and you, crossing your arms as you stared into the living room entryway. “Listen, sunshine,” He started, breaking the silence. “There’s something i’ve been wanting to talk to you about-”

Before he could continue, Trevor’s voice rang out from the deck, louder than before. “Sunny! Quinn! Stop being lame and get out here! The marshmallows are calling!” 

Quinn let out a sigh, pushing off from his spot against the counter. “We’ll talk later.” You nodded, though curiosity flickered in your chest at Quinn’s abrupt pause. He gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading toward the back deck, the sound of Trevor’s persistent shouting growing louder as he opened the door. You followed close behind, filing the moment away in your mind to revisit later. The deck was alive with the glow of the fire and the warm energy of the group. Luke was busy toasting marshmallows, though half of his attempts ended up charred. Trevor was narrating his process like he was on a cooking show, while Cole argued about the correct marshmallow-to-chocolate ratio for the perfect s’more. Jack, as usual, lingered on the edge of the chaos, leaning against the railing with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. You grabbed a chair near the fire, letting the warmth soak into your skin as the cool lake breeze rustled through the trees. Jack’s quiet demeanor didn’t escape your notice, and your earlier conversation with Quinn lingered in your mind. After a while, Quinn sat beside you, nudging your knee with his. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you. You nodded, glancing at him with a faint smile. 

Trevor’s loud laughter broke through your moment, drawing your attention back to the group. “Jack!” he called, pointing dramatically at his friend. “Stop brooding over there and make a damn s’more.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, pushing off the railing and walking over. “I’m not brooding.”

“Sure,” Luke said with a smirk, handing Jack a marshmallow. “That’s why you’ve been staring at the fire like it owes you money.” Jack snorted, but his gaze flickered to you briefly before he sat down across the fire. You caught his look and held it for a second, a silent question hanging between you, but he quickly turned his attention to skewering the marshmallow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night air had grown cooler, and the flickering embers of the fire cast long shadows as you stretched, feeling the day’s exhaustion settle into your bones. Cole and Luke had already disappeared inside, their playful banter fading into the house as they headed to bed. Quinn had followed not long after, muttering something about being the responsible one and making sure the fire was fully out. You, Jack, and Trevor were the last to carry your tired bodies inside. You walked into the house next to Trevor while Jack followed not far behind. You rubbed your eyes, ready to get a real goodnight's sleep, unlike the night before. 

Trevor let out an exaggerated yawn as he reached the spare room, quickly moving to give you a side hug. “G’night, Sunny.”

“Night, Trev.” You said, your voice raspy as you craved sleep. You released yourself from Trevor’s hug, mirroring his yawn as you walked. You made your way to Jack’s room, your hand just barely touching the doorknob before he spoke up behind you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice low but laced with a sort of sterness you’d never heard from him.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Uh…going to bed?” You replied with a sassy tone. 

Jack rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “That’s my room.”

You scoffed, moving away from the door. “Yeah, obviously. This morning you said-”

“Yeah, but I decided I want to sleep in my bed tonight.” 

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in defiance. “Oh, so now you’re kicking me out?”

Jack shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. “Pretty much.” 

You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “Jack, I’m exhausted. Just let me crash in your bed. You can take the couch.” 

“No.”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to not make eye contact. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you tonight,” You said, tilting your head back down to face him. “I don’t know what kind of shit you’ve got going on in your life that you won’t talk to me about, but don’t take it out on me.” 

Jack pushed himself off the wall, his expression growing meaner. “The kind of shit I've got going on doesn’t concern you.” (IT TOTALLY DOES) He said with a nasty tone as he moved closer to you. “Go sleep in the bed you were given at the beginning of this trip.” Your jaw clenched at his words, and you could feel the sting of them settle in your chest. Jack had always been quick with his sarcasm, but this felt different, harsher, colder. You took a small step back, crossing your arms tightly across your chest like you were shielding yourself. 

“Wow,” you said, your voice quieter now but still firm. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to care about you anymore.” Jack flinched at your words, his mean exterior cracking for just a moment. He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a hand, cutting him off. “Whatever,” you said, shaking your head as you turned toward the hallway. “I don’t need this right now, Jack. Sleep wherever the hell you want.” You heard the door slam as you made your way down the hallway, your blood boiling with every stomp of your foot. You made it to the spare room, cracking the door slightly to get a look at Trevor and Cole. Trevor was man-spreading over the entire bed, snoring even louder than last night. You looked down to see Cole on your air mattress which was fully deflated at this point. You let out a sharp sigh, not knowing where to go.

“My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.” Quinn’s words from this morning echoed in your mind as you took in the scene in front of you. The thought of Quinn’s offer lingered, a tempting alternative to the chaos of the spare room and the sting of Jack’s harsh words. You closed the door quietly, leaning against it for a moment to steady your racing thoughts. The day’s exhaustion tugged at your body, and all you wanted was a peaceful place to sleep. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the door and made your way toward Quinn’s room, your steps quiet as the house settled into silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle. Is this a bad idea? you wondered, biting your lip. But the muffled sound of Trevor’s snoring and the image of your deflated air mattress pushed you to turn the knob. The door creaked softly as it opened, revealing Quinn’s room in complete pitch black darkness.

You carefully walked over to the edge of the bed, seeing Quinn with his eyes closed and his hair tousled against the pillow. “Quinn,” You whispered. He stirred slightly at the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttering open as he turned his head toward you. The dim light from the hallway illuminated his face just enough for you to see his sleepy confusion.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, his voice groggy. “What’s up?” 

You quickly moved your knees onto the bed. “Scooch over.” Quinn let out a soft smile through his closed eyes as you pulled the comforter over your body. “Cole took over my air mattress.”

Quinn let out a low chuckle, his voice still thick with sleep. “Of course he did,” he muttered, shifting slightly to give you more space. His arm brushed against yours as he adjusted the blanket, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, sinking into the mattress. The bed was far more comfortable than your deflated air mattress had ever been, and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

He turned slightly, lying on his side to face you. The faint glow from the hallway cast just enough light for you to catch the gentle amusement in his eyes. “You gonna steal all the blankets, or are we sharing?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll share, but no promises if I get cold.”

Quinn chuckled again, his hand tugging the comforter up over your shoulders. “Fair enough.” As the silence settled between you, the warmth of the bed and the quiet intimacy of the moment began to sink in. You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, and your leg brushed against Quinn’s. The faint contact made your heart skip, but before you could move away, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Better?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught for a moment, but the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you. “Yeah,” you said softly, relaxing into his hold. “Much better.” Quinn’s fingers rested lightly against your back, his touch gentle and unassuming. You let your head rest against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt all day. His other hand came up to rest lightly against your shoulder, holding you close but not overwhelming.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled, your voice heavy with exhaustion as you nestled closer. 

He let out a soft hum, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Guess I’m good for something.” You smiled against him, the tension of the day melting away as you let yourself relax fully in his arms. His presence was steady, grounding, and you couldn’t help but feel safe as the quiet of the room wrapped around you both.

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet fondness.