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There were a lot of things that Michael was, but ashamed was not one of them.
It wasn’t exactly surprising (or fucking original, thank you) when people started making fun of him for watching My Little Pony. Sure, it was a kid’s show, but it sure as fuck had a lot more charm than any other garbage on television, and Michael liked that about it. He liked that after Rage Quit, after all the stress and yelling, he could come home to candy colored ponies that made him smile, damn it.
It wasn’t a huge deal though. Michael was intimidating enough that he could tell people to fuck off and they would, usually. He didn’t exactly hide his love for the show, but he tried not to shove it in people’s faces either. After a quick comment and a little bit of teasing, it all pretty much disappeared, just like the time he straightened his hair. A teasing comment or two didn’t bother Michael much, and he went about his day in peace after everyone got their first jab out.
But Gavin. Gavin was another story.
He was too easy to pick on. He let it slip once, only once, during a let’s play, that he also watched the show, accidentally giving away that he knew too much about it for the average person. It was too easy to tease Gavin, to make him feel stupid, to laugh at him – he not only fueled it with his denial ‘no, no, I don’t watch it, dumb kid’s show’, but he also took it, and that, Michael gathered, was his problem.
MLPMichael didn’t take shit from nobody. Gavin on the other hand…
“Come on, dude, it’s not a big deal. It’s a good show,” He said to Gavin one day at break between a mouthful of sandwich.
“I don’t watch the show,” was Gavin’s reply, from a tiny voice behind his lunch. Michael let it drop, shrugging and eating his food without further comment.
But Gavin, one day, was humming a song from the show that he had stuck in his head, and it was impossible to deny it – he was a fan.
“Winter wrap-up?” Michael asked with a smirk. Gavin squawked, not knowing Michael was in the room.
“I had that one stuck in my head for weeks the first time I heard it.”
“Millie had it on the other day,” Gavin mumbled.
“Uh huh.”
Again, the conversation ended there. Michael went home as usual and slept, setting his alarm before bed so he could catch the show’s stream in the morning.
He awoke and leapt to his computer, singing winter wrap-up Broadway style – loudly, the only way Michael knew how to do anything. He loaded up the stream (with only a string of curse words the first time it crashed, and once when he got the same advertisement three times in a row) and curled up to watch the ponies.
During the first commercial of the stream, Michael saw his phone light up from the corner of his eye. He picked it up. Gavin.
“I hope the Crystal Empire gets to host the games,” the text read. Michael smirked, texting back, “I thought you didn’t watch dumb kid’s shows.”
Gavin answered almost instantaneously.
“It’s a good show, Mi-cool.”
The show came back on so Michael put his phone to the side and waited for the next commercial break, the thoughts of Gavin still lingering on his mind. The next commercial couldn’t come fast enough.
When it did, Michael grabbed his phone quickly. Gavin wrote, “I can’t wait for the finale.”
Michael smiled, texting him back, “Wanna watch it together?” But the show came back on before Gavin answered. Michael kept his phone clasped in his hands, checking frequently to see if Gavin responded. He hadn’t.
Even during the next commercial break, Gavin didn’t answer. Michael’s palms began to sweat.
“It’s fine, Gavin, we don’t fucking have to,” he texted Gavin again. He slammed the phone down on the desk when he still was left with no reply.
He watched the rest of the show in his newly soured mood. Fucking moron.
On Monday, Michael went back into work, fuming when he saw Gavin. Wanna fucking be that way, fine, Michael could play that game. He proceeded to ignore Gavin all day, difficult in the tiny office, but manageable, as Gavin seemed to avoid him as well.
But Gavin, the fucking idiot he was, smashed into Michael’s desk, and Michael exploded.
“You fucking idiot!” He screamed before he could stop himself, leaping out of his chair.
“Mi-cool!” Gavin screamed, shrinking away from Michael.
“Hey, calm down you idiots,” Geoff warned without turning around. Michael turned furiously on Gavin.
“Michael, it’s fine, your desk is fine,” Gavin said, gesturing toward it. Michael clenched his fists.
“I don’t care about the fucking desk, you piece of shit, why didn’t you answer my text last night?”
“Lover’s spat,” Ray laughed from his chair. Michael rolled his eyes.
“Not now, Mi-coo-“
“Yes, now! Fuck you!”
“Mi-cool, mi-cool, shhh…” Gavin put up his hands, “I don’t want them to know.” He whispered. His eyes pleaded.
Michael’s heart softened, and he unclenched his fists.
“Gavin, it’s fucking fine, nobody cares if you watch the stupid show.”
But Gavin still watched Michael sadly, so Michael forfeited.
“Fine,” he spat, “But we’re watching the fucking show together whether you want to or not.”
Gavin, surprising Michael, smiled.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Michael asked, handing the man behind the food stand a bill from his wallet.
Gavin said nothing, for a change, curling up his gyro in his slender hand and shoving it in his mouth, clearly avoiding the question. He looked at Michael and chewed with full cheeks.
Michael rolled his eyes, accepting his food and can of pop. He unwrapped it and together they walked back to his apartment, chewing silently.
“I just… I don’t want them to think…” Gavin swallowed his words down.
“Gavin, Gavin, Gavin…” Michael held out a hand to his friend’s shoulder, “Who cares what they think?”
“I do,” he said quietly. Michael dropped his hand to his side, walking beside Gavin down the final block.
“I just want people to like me,” he said finally, shrugging. Michael laughed loudly, but when Gavin looked at him quizzically, he forced himself to stop laughing.
“I like you,” he said, his voice going up at the end.
Gavin stopped in his tracks and Michael grinned at him, flashing his dimples.
“You do?”
“Of course. You’re my boy, Gavin,” Michael threw an arm around Gavin and gave him a small squeeze. Gavin smiled back, and they looked each other in the eye for a small intimate second.
“Now let’s go watch our show,” Michael said. They climbed the stairs to Michael’s apartment together, stopping only for a moment so Michael’s could find his stupid keys.
He loaded up the show as per usual, the two men sitting down to watch a cartoon intended for small children. It’s comfortable – Michael realized – how nice it was to have somebody around he’d known for so long, in a place he could call home. Complete.
“Hey, Mi-cool?” a small voice said from beside him. Michael didn’t turn to face Gavin, watching the black screen in front of him and waiting for their show to start; he just pursed his lips and said, “Hm?”
“Thanks.”
The pony theme song played in the background, but Michael couldn’t really hear it, even though he wouldn’t break his gaze from the screen.
“Okay.”
“No, really,” Gavin continued, “You’re the only person who really… Cares.”
That was too much for Michael. Before he even realized it, he’d turned and thrown his lips onto his friend’s. He didn’t want to pull away, but Gavin seemed a bit hesitant, so he forced himself to back away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“No, I just – that was unexpected,” Gavin laughed.
“Unexpected?!” Michael yelled, “You fucking idiot.”
Gavin laughed again sheepishly. Michael blushed but turned his face away so Gavin couldn’t see.
They watched the show for only a moment before Gavin turned to Michael, scooting toward him to plant a small and tentative kiss on his lips. Michael’s heart jumped. He put a hand on the smaller man’s neck, warm and soft, twisting his fingers in the hair just brushing Gavin’s neck.
It was Michael who deepened the kiss, wanting more or Gavin for himself. He traced a tongue on Gavin’s lips, diving into his mouth.
“The show,” Gavin said at last through Michael’s mouth, pointing feebly to the screen as their teeth clashed together.
Michael didn’t listen. He moved toward Gavin, closer to his chest, climbing on top of him and resting his weight. Gavin whimpered underneath him, and heat curled into Michael’s belly at the sound.
The candy colored equines sang in the background, but all Michael heard was Gavin.