You watch curiously as Trevor pulls into what looks like an empty parking lot near the Vespucci Canals. You spot a dormant helicopter at the far end that was difficult to see in the darkness from its black paint job. On closer inspection when Trevor parks close to the chopper you're able to read the red spray paint on the side. It says "T.P Industries" In bold red capital letters, also there's a small red patch with white writing that reads "Fuck da feds". Classy. You release your warm hold of Trevor's stomach when the engine dies and slide off the bike to walk slowly towards the helicopter.

Trevor struts by you and swings the chopper pilot door open and sits himself inside. He looks out at you and waves for you to join him. You're hesitant; having never been in a helicopter before. You just frown at him with wide eyes. Trevor's broad shoulders elevate with his sigh. He steps out of the chopper and advances to where you're stood.

"What's the problem?" Trevor says with some frustration as he rubs his chin.

"I'm supposed to get in that?" You point at the helicopter to the side of Trevor. Trevor looks to the chopper and then back to you.

"Yeah, unless you plan on walking. It's faster in the air, c'mon" Trevor begins walking back to the chopper with you before you stop him.

"Where are we going exactly?"

"Sandy Shores."

"Which is... where?"

"North." You raise your brow for more of an explanation. "Blaine County." Trevor exhales. "Los Santos isn't even the half of it Y/N. What kind of tour guide would I be if I didn't let you experience the rest, no no the BEST part of San Andreas?"

"Ok, and you can fly a helicopter?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"YES! I spent enough time in the air force, the least they could do is teach me how to pilot a fucking chopper!"

"Alright! Fine." Trevor escorts you to the co-pilot side of the helicopter and pulls the door open for you to climb in. Once you're seated he shuts the door and makes his way around to the pilot seat. You've nervously pulled on the safety harness to try and secure yourself in but can't get the straps to click together correctly. Trevor climbs himself in then sits and closes his door. He watches you fail your attempts with the harness. Once you give up he reaches over and comes in close to fully see what he was doing. You can feel your heart in your throat as his hands are very close to your crotch. He takes very little time fastening you in before returning to his seat.

Trevor doesn't bother with his own harness and instead hands you a headset to wear. You place it on your head and position it over your ears. Simple. Once the headset is sitting comfortably on your ears you turn and smile at Trevor with accomplishment. Trevor rolls his eyes and pulls the small microphone up that's attached to your headset so it's near your mouth and then he slips his headset on.

You watch mystified as Trevor flips a number of switches on the dashboard in front of him and some above him. You study his focused face. He must've done this a million times, but how can he remember all those buttons? You hear the whirr of rotor blades above you as the chopper wakes up. Trevor grasps at the cyclic in between his outer thigh and yours. You peer out of your door and watch the ground beneath you get further and further away as the chopper ascends. Your heart beat quickens as you realise how high in the air you are.

"You're gonna pass out if you don't stop breathing so fast" Trevor mutters in your ear making you jump. He's keeping his sight focused in front of him. You hadn't noticed but Trevor must've heard your nervous breathing through the headset.

"Sorry." You inhale a large breath through your nose and exhale slowly to steady your intakes of air as you gaze over the lights of Los Santos. It was surreal. The city looked so small from all the way up here. Trevor glanced at you for a second to see the awe on your face, and then his sight returned forward to guide the chopper.

The two of you in the air were covering a lot more ground than travelling by car so it wasn't too long until you pass the Vinewood sign. A few quiet minutes went by as you watched the distant life below you continue existing. You admire some the wildlife on the hills as you hover by. Trevor then breaks the silence.

"Here." You look at him then his hand on the stick steering the helicopter with a scared and confused look in your eyes.

"I hope you're not saying what I think you're saying" Your eyes lock with Trevor's.

"Driving stick is easy" Trevor shrugs.

"That's what people say about cars Trevor! Not fucking helicopters!"

"Look I'll guide you, just put your hand on the stick will ya?"

"There is no way I am doing that" You refuse sternly. Trevor works out the only way you're going to put your hand on the cyclic is if he let's go of it completely. He does and your face turns white as you shout and both your hands grab at it on impulse. "TREVOR WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"You're fine. See just tilt it to steer the chopper" Trevor reassured you and wraps his huge hand around yours on the stick. You stare at his tattoos on his knuckle as he helps to manoeuvre the helicopter. You look up and out over San Andreas from the wide window of the cockpit. You feel a massive rush from the combination of potential death and an exhilarating new experience. You're concentrating so hard on piloting the chopper that you've not felt Trevor take his hand away.

"Look at you Y/N! I bet you didn't think you'd fly a chopper when you put your name down for the foreign student bullshit"

"No I fucking didn't!" You laughed anxiously. "... Can you do it now? I don't want to be the reason we die in a fiery explosion"

Trevor chuckles and takes over the steering of the aircraft as you relinquish control. You sink back into your seat as your heartbeat returns to a healthy speed. Trevor's face returns to a serious focused expression as he continues to pilot the helicopter to the destination. You watch him. He's quiet when he's flying. It's different.

"So did you join the US air force?"

"Sort of." Trevor's eyes are locked in front of him.

"Cananda?"

"It was the, uh Canadian border region of America, yeah."

"I thought so. I can hear it when you talk sometimes."

"It's a faint fucking accent." Trevor growled through his teeth.

"I like it." You saw Trevor's eyes shift toward you as he turned and arched his brow. You felt the pit of your stomach tense as you saw the look in his eye.

"You do huh? Tell me, what else d'you like about me cupcake?" You try to keep your cool and shrug; not wanting to pleasure Trevor's ego any further, but you feel your cheeks warming up.

"I don't know..."

"Pick something. I have many fine qualities" Trevor admits arrogantly.

"Erm... you make me laugh?"

"No, you know what I'm thinkin'? I'm thinkin' it's the way I make your face go to that lovely red colour." Trevor's does his evil smile. He loves pushing your buttons.

"What?" You stutter. Your face is on fire.

"That face of yours, like in the back of Frank's car. You're burning up."

"No I'm not!" You turn and scowl out the window of the door on your left trying to hide your blushing cheeks.

"Was it you who packed all that sexy lingerie that fell out of your suitcase? Thinkin' you'd get lucky in LS? You should be focusing on your studies!" Trevor tuts.

You try to ignore Trevor and don't give him an answer. As you continue your glare out the side of the helicopter, Trevor leans over to you so you feel him leaning up against you. He whispers through the microphone: "Will I ever get to see it?"

"WHY? DO YOU WANT TO BORROW IT?" You finally blurt out swinging around to face him. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you stare him down. Your comeback was supposed to stump Trevor for an answer, but it only fuelled him more. You watch his tongue slide from one side of his jaw to the other behind his bottom teeth. A corner on one side of his mouth lifts up with a grin.

"If that's what you're into sweetheart, I'm game." Trevor teases. He stares wildly into your eyes and you narrow yours back at him. You can taste the tension in the air of this small enclosed space. Trevor notices your full lips puckering when you're concentrating so forcefully. He moistens his mouth and moves away from you after a few seconds with a shit eating smirk on his face. He waits for a moment then makes you see red with his next topic of conversation.

"How's your tattoo healin' up?"


The chopper stops advancing and instead begins descending in an air field. You hear the rotors slow down as the helicopter touches the sandy dirt. The air is still and not a word is uttered when Trevor removes his headset. You assume it's safe to unbuckle your harness but your fingers fumble at the fastening. Trevor notices.

"You want me to do it?"

"No I'm fine. I got it." Your reply was prickly. You didn't look at Trevor. The straps release and you pull off the headset leaving it on the seat. The co-pilot door is pushed open then your feet fall onto the floor, making a small sand cloud. You watch Trevor emerge from his side and you stomp your boots to confront him. "You make me so fucking crazy you know that?" Your voice is loud. Trevor just looks down at you.

"I know, isn't it great? Can you feel the blood pumping though your veins?"

"You just wait until I find what winds you up." Your blood is boiling. Michael might know. He's known this asshole for a long time. I'll ask him when I get back.

"Are you threatening me?" Trevor flirts. You ignore his question as you feel a drop of liquid hit your forehead. You wipe it away but it's pointless as more fall onto your face as you look up to the night sky.

"Where's your car?" You ask as you're pushing your cold hands into your large, toastie hoodie pocket. Trevor remains unbothered by how damp he's becoming. You notice the denim material around his wide shoulders begin to soak through with the rain water as you wait for his answer. Trevor waves his thick, tattooed arm out and points with his index finger behind you. You turn and spot his Bodhi pickup parked at a lonely gas station not too far away. You spin yourself back to face Trevor with an unimpressed look. "You brought the car without a fucking roof? Fucking great."

"It's just rain. Jesus, you whine just like Michael." Trevor says with his sudden decline in mood. He begins his walk toward his car. You pull your thin hood up and follow close behind him.

"At least Michael would have a car with a roof." You mutter under your breath. Trevor heard you.

"Look if you wanna go back to Michael, then go. No one's making you stay here." Trevor says harshly. You see him standing at the driver's side of his car from the passenger side where you're stood. He's scowling under the dim light on the building. It's pouring with rain. You've hurt him. Trevor feels you've compared him with Michael and come to the conclusion that Michael is superior. This was never your intent and so you're confused to why Trevor is giving you his cold hard shoulder.

"What? I don't want to go back to Michael. I'm here, with you. I want to be here Trevor. Otherwise I wouldn't have come." You say with sincerity. You notice his face soften when you spoke the words. You mirrored his facial expression.

"Alright... let's go." Trevor replies calmly. He gets into the driver's seat and you do so as well on the passenger's side. Trevor reaches for his keys in his sweatpants pocket and starts his truck. The vehicle accelerates causing the wheels to skid and churn up some wet sand behind you.


Trevor guides the car across the worn roads of the San Andreas desert . You pass a lot of run down houses, not too dissimilar to the ones you saw on your adventure in South LS with Franklin, Lamar, Trevor and the Ballas street gang. Your body temperature is decreasing from your soggy clothes and the cool night air that blew past you in the car. Trevor pulls the car up to a shabby looking trailer. You follow him into the property and stop on the path when he begins to climb the stairs to the porch.

"This is what you wanted to show me? A trailer?" You watch Trevor rotate and step back down a few of the stairs to talk to you.

"Wrong! This is MY trailer and I wanna show you something else, not this." Trevor walks to the entrance, bursts through his trailer door and disappears inside. You're hesitant to find out if he's brought you all the way out here to show you a dead body he had waiting for you in his trailer or something. So, you carefully climb the stairs of the porch and are blinded by the bright wall light on the side of his home next to the front door. You give a gingerly push on the flimsy door and lower your hood in astonishment as you're greeted with a revolting sight.

Cockroaches scatter from the floor of trash where you stood in Trevor's kitchen/dining room/living room. The inside of his home was small. The bathroom was cramped and missing a door. You notice a sad looking, stained couch pushed up against the wall next to the fridge. On the seat was a glass pipe, a dirty magazine and a box of tissues. You didn't have to guess what they were for. You appreciated the 'Benedict' vivid green neon wall art, even if it was hanging on an angle and also the wolf banner above the uncomfortable looking sofa. In the far corner a crate of beer sat on a round wooden table with some empty bottles and cans on their side. You inhaled as it took all of your might not to correct the slanted lampshade by the TV displaying a white noise picture. What was that smell? You try not to but your nose is pulling you to the direction that's causing the stench; an old pizza box and packets of junk food were scattered on the kitchen work surfaces and mouldy dishes floated in the sink. You had a sudden urge to peer into the pizza box and you held your breath as you lifted the lid. You didn't have a good enough look as Trevor startled you emerging from his bedroom. You leave the box alone.

"Ignore the mess; I was just in the middle of cleaning." Trevor says sarcastically. He's removed his jean jacket and so your eyes become very aware of Trevor's wet t-shirt sticking to his abdomen. You quickly shift your eyes back up to his and speak.

"I really hope you didn't bring me all the way out here to clean your home." You cross your arms in front of you and shiver.

"I didn't, but feel free!"

"I'll pass." You tremble from your body trying to warm itself again whilst taking one last look at the dishes and wonder if the water has solidified from sitting there for so long.

"I've got some dry stuff you can wear." Trevor's noticed your shivering and in his strange way offered you some dry clothing.

"What do you have?" You ask eagerly and follow Trevor into his bedroom. He squats to dig around in his wardrobe while your eyes scan your surroundings. More magazines and empty bottles of beer are spread out on the bed and side table and posters of attractive women wearing barely any clothing stuck on the walls. You notice a skull sitting on the dresser next to a small broken TV, wearing a army camo coloured cowboy hat. You wonder whether it's a human skull. You turn toward Trevor when he speaks and notice one door to his wardrobe is removed and leaning beside it.

"Nothing fancy," Trevor stands upright when he hands you a black Love Fist tank, a black zip-up hoodie and pink sweatpants. "be careful with those pants, they were a gift."

"Ok.. thanks." You're holding the small pile of clothing in your arms. You look up to Trevor, waiting for him to leave and give you some privacy. Trevor picks up on your demeanour and arches his brow again. You hate how your heart reacts to when he does something so simple.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." Trevor's voice is low, almost growling.

"You're not going to leave?" You say in a flat, defeated tone.

"Nope! I want to see your tattoo... again." Trevor pops the p cheerfully and flashes you his wide grin again. You're not fazed by his advances and shrug. You've prioritised not getting a chill over having to take off your clothes in front of Trevor.

You place the dry clothes on Trevor's bed and begin undressing from your wet ones. Your back is facing him as you pull your soaked hoodie up over your head. It exposes your lower back briefly from some of the t-shirt moving with the hoodie. The drenched hoodie forms a clump on the floor as it falls. You unzip your boots and slip your surprisingly dry feet out to remove your pants. After undoing your jeans your cold, red thighs slide out from inside the tight material. You're standing in your damp t-shirt and black lace knickers. It doesn't even cross your mind how see through they are because you're so cold.

You can hear a pin drop as you bend over slightly to find the pink sweatpants in the pile on the end of the bed. You pull them on and then remove your moistened shirt from the bottom and peel it from your body. It comes up over your head and you drop it on the pile with the rest of your sopping articles of clothing. It takes a great deal of restraint from Trevor not to pounce on you as he sees your matching lacy bra strap. You slide your arms through the large arm holes of Trevor's Love Fist tank top and wrap the hoodie around your top half. You push your hands through the arms then zip up the front of Trevor's hoodie.

You reach down to collect your damp pieces of clothing and try to find creative ways to hang them around the trailer for them to dry. It's difficult but you avoid eye contact with Trevor and pretend you've forgotten he was in the room with you. He's standing in the same spot with his jaw slightly ajar, adjusting his shrinking groin space of his sweatpants that contained a rather impressive bulge.