Work Text:
I .
Michael was in too deep – he had been since the start – but now it was really hitting him hard. Work was tougher these days, the gangs more resilient, fiercer, and the danger grew with every passing day.
So when Gavin got kidnapped the first time, Michael was furious. He was furious at himself, at Gavin, at the whole world. He’d stormed in there and shot every one of them dead. It had been dangerous, and he was lucky that it was only a small gang; Michael couldn’t think when Gavin was in danger.
Geoff had cornered him when he had returned, a black and blue Gavin trailing in after him. ‘Cornered’ was putting it lightly – Geoff had actually grabbed Michael by the shoulder, clear fury on his face, and dragged him into one of the meeting rooms at base.
It was one of the only times that Michael had ever seen Geoff truly angry. His usually placid Boss was frowning, his eyes alive and his face exhausted. He threw Michael into a nearby chair, eyeing him suspiciously.
“What the hell were you playing at?” Geoff roared. “You nearly got yourself killed!”
“I didn’t, though!” Michael said, weakly attempting to defend himself.
“Sheer luck! This isn’t how we do this, Michael, you should know that! We plan, we check risks, and then we execute.”
“Yeah, I planned to kill them all, the risk was that those bastards were going to hurt Gavin, and I executed them all.” Michael replied snappily.
Geoff grabbed fistfuls of Michael’s shirt, pulling up to him, snarling. “You need to sort yourself out, kid. Get your priorities straight. That’s not how we act, it’s not how we work.”
Michael pushed Geoff off him with ease, but Geoff made no move to resist. He stood there, glaring furiously at Michael. The redhead straightened himself, gave Geoff a look of pure frustration, and took off out of the room.
II .
As soon as the door slammed shut, Geoff collapsed into a nearby chair. Jack was in the room within minutes, attempting to simultaneously soothe and calm the man down. When Geoff went to grab a bottle of whisky, Jack pushed his hand away, shaking her head.
“No, Geoff. You don’t need that, it’ll only make it worse.”
Geoff grumbled about her mothering him, but sat back down in his chair regardless. He allowed her to rub his shoulders, some of the tension leaving him, and he slowly began to calm down.
“He just doesn’t understand, how this works! We were all worried.” Geoff sighed.
“You know he’s got a lot on his mind at the minute.” Jack reasoned. “Don’t be so hard on him.”
“Don’t be – he nearly got himself killed, Jack! Does he really not trust us to get Gavin? He’s one of us.”
“He panicked, Geoff. Whatever’s been going on with them is getting to him.” Jack shrugged. “Let him stew for a bit. He’ll come to his senses, and maybe even apologise. Let him talk to Gavin.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Pattillo.” Geoff grumbled, pressing a kiss to her lips fondly.
III .
Gavin had been sentenced to bed rest for the following two days, and Michael hadn’t been in to see him. It was only when he was given the all clear from Caleb, their in-house doctor, that he had finally left his room at base.
He’d walked into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice when he had laid eyes on Michael. The man was sitting at the breakfast bar, a red bull in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and made eye contact with Gavin, though he quickly averted his eyes.
“Michael,” Gavin said softly. “Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not, asshole.” Michael replied, still not looking at Gavin. “Got a lot to do, that’s all.”
“Thank you for coming to save me, boi.” Gavin said lightly, trying for a cheeky grin.
“Well, I wasn’t going to leave you there, was I?” Michael retorted, though his harsh tone softened considerably upon seeing hurt flash across Gavin’s face. “Forget about it, boi. It’s in the past, yeah?”
“In the past.” Gavin agreed. “So, want to play Halo?”
IV .
Michael was sick of it. So, so damn sick of it. Gavin never realised – he never knew the reason Michael was so protective, so invested. Taking another swig from the bottle, Michael couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
He’d been drinking alone in his apartment for an hour. They generally lived in Geoff’s apartment, but they still owned their own places – it was times like these that Michael was glad he’d kept his own place.
It was all that asshole’s fault.
Why did Gavin have to go and get laid? Why couldn’t it be Michael be the one in Gavin’s room, making those noises?
Instead of Michael, there was a literal god there. He was over six feet tall, tanned and muscled. Michael didn’t stand a chance. With that thought in his mind, he took another large swig from the bottle.
V .
“Rise and shine, asshole!” Jeremy called, bursting into Michael’s apartment.
Michael squinted as Jeremy drew open the curtains, allowing light to pour into his apartment. Michael sat up, brushing the blankets off him; he’d fallen asleep on the sofa in the early hours of the morning.
Jeremy began to collect the empty bottles that were scattered throughout the apartment with a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t judge me, Lil J.” Michael groaned.
“You know me better than that.” Jeremy replied, his voice emotionless.
“So, what are you doing here?” Michael grunted.
“You’re grumpy when you’re hungover. Or are you still drunk?” Jeremy asked, shaking his head slightly.
“I don’t even know, man.” Michael muttered. “Can you-“
Michael was cut off by Jeremy handing him a glass of water and some aspirin. Michael swallowed the pills appreciatively, silence descending between the two men. Jeremy finished cleaning up Michael’s apartment, and grabbed a Gatorade out of the fridge before sitting opposite Michael.
Eventually, the red-haired man spoke up.
“What do I owe the pleasure, Lil J?”
“What do you think, Michael?” Jeremy replied. “Jack called me at five am, saying that you weren’t responding to any of their calls, and you’d been drinking last night.”
“Jeremy, I” Michael pleaded.
“I thought we’d moved past this, Michael.” Jeremy spoke, his voice tired and filled with disappointment. “You’d stopped getting pissed whenever things didn’t go your way!”
“I had, I had!” Michael snapped. “It’s just… last night was a mess, okay? I lost it.”
“Then talk to me! Or Jack, or Geoff, or fucking anybody. Anybody but a bottle of whiskey.” Jeremy snapped. “Talk to me, Michael. I’m here.”
The two men sat in silence for some time, Jeremy simply sipping on his Gatorade and waiting patiently. As Michael felt the aspirin kick in, thoughts of last night’s drinking floated through his mind, and he winced.
“It was, um, Gavin.”
“What did he do now?” Jeremy sighed. “Did you finally make a move?”
“How did you-“
“Please, you two are a gay fucktruck waiting to happen.” Jeremy shrugged, and Michael snorted.
“Nicely phrased, Lil J.”
“Thank you.” Jeremy said. “I do have a way with words.”
VI .
“So you’re popping boners for Gavin, and he’s banging Adonis.” Jeremy stated. “Damn, Michael, that sucks.”
“Yup.” Michael replied.
“What are you going to do?” Jeremy asked. “Apart from drink yourself to death.”
“I don’t know.”
The two men sat in silence for a while, though it was more comfortable than awkward. Michael had to admit, it had been nice to see Jeremy; the two spent little time alone together, always going on separate jobs.
Their silence was broken by the sound of Michael’s phone ringing, and when he picked it up and saw Geoff’s face, he audibly groaned. He briefly considered not answering, but a stern look from Jeremy caused him to answer the phone.
“Nice to see you’re no longer unconscious.” came Geoff’s greeting.
“Hello to you too.” Michael grumbled.
“Crew meeting in fifteen minutes. Be there.”
A beeping noise filled Michael’s ear before he could respond, signalling that Geoff had hung up. Michael sighed, throwing the phone down onto the sofa in irritation.
“Fuck me.”
“It’s not me you want to fuck,” Jeremy joked, causing Michael to throw a pillow at his head (“You deserved it, asshole!”)
V II.
They had a rat.
Michael didn’t remember ever seeing Geoff so angry. Annoyed, or irritated, yes, but never this angry. Not even when Michael directly disobeyed Geoff’s orders was the normally placid man so angry.
And in a way, Michael understood his anger. Their crew was like a family, close-knit and loving. They looked after each other, helped each other. Somebody had ratted them out. Somebody was working with the Feds.
The Fake AH Crew worked with the feds, of course, but they never ratted people out. Geoff’s old friends in the LSPD, Gus Sorola and Matt Hullum, often helped them out of tight situations, calling the cops off them when their lives were at risk. They never asked for much in return – apparently Geoff saved their lives once, in a freak accident.
They would never betray the Crew. Besides, they didn’t really know any plans. Michael didn’t want to think that it was one of them – the idea of Jack, Ryan, Gavin or himself betraying the crew was ludicrous.
So the question was posed to Michael; who did it?
VII I.
Michael had been at Geoff’s for five hours, and so far he’d been distracted from his thoughts. But now he was left alone – Geoff had gone to meet with Gus, taking Ryan with him as protection. Jack was meeting with their regular weapons dealer, bargaining with the guy for some rare grenade launcher. Ray would love it, Michael thought, but only if it was pink.
He pulled his laptop out of his backpack, opening it up and loading his email. There was the usual junk; offers for cars and boats, PayPal scams, etc. There was one particular email from his mother that caught his eye.
His parents lived back in New Jersey, and had a vague idea of his career choices, though were adamant that they would rather not work. They maintained that he worked in security, which was fine by Michael – after all, he was a private bodyguard before joining the Crew.
Michael, how are you doing? We haven’t spoken in a while. The holiday was lovely, Gran Canarias is a beautiful place. How is Jeremy ? He calls me occasionally to give me updates on you – he’s more reliable!
Your brother has set a date for his wedding – November 30 th – so soon, I know! You’re the best man, I presume? You need to bring a date to the wedding, though I know its short notice.
Call me when you can, sweetheart.
Michael frowned at reading this. November 30th was just three weeks away, and he’d have to fly back to New Jersey for the wedding. With a date. A date! How the hell did they expect him to find a date in three weeks? He vowed to call his brother and plead his case.
The sound of footsteps made Michael look up, and his eyes landed on the green-eyed British man that caused him so much trouble.
“Hi, Michael!” He grinned, heading over to the fridge.
“Hey, boi.” Michael replied, running a hand through his hair.
“You look shattered. Have fun last night, or something?” Gavin asked cheerily.
“Did you?” Michael shot back, instantly feeling bad for being so harsh. “Sorry.”
“Not really. He was rubbish.” Gavin shrugged, and Michael ignored the urge to grin. “Are we alright, boi?”
Don’t be an asshole, Jeremy had said, it’s not his fault. “Yeah, we’re good, Gav.”
They had soon settled down to a game of Halo, and Michael was killing Gavin repeatedly. It was like having Ray there, really. As they waited for the next round to begin, Michael turned to Gavin.
“Feel like coming to a wedding with me, Gav?”
Michael was already regretting asking Gavin to come. They'd only been in the air for twenty minutes when Gavin had started excitedly tapping Michael on the shoulder, pointing to the screen embedded into the seat in front, showing where they were flying over on a digital map.
“That's fucking fantastic, Gav. It's a five hour flight, and I'm exhausted. Unlike you, I spent all night on a job. Now I'm going to go to sleep, and you're going to be quiet.”
Gavin pulled a face, sticking his tongue out at Michael bashfully. “You’re no fun at all, boi!”
“Yeah, yeah, cry me a fucking river.”
Whilst still frowning like a petulant child, Gavin was true to his word and did in fact remain quiet for the entirety of the flight. Michael had breathed a sigh of relief when the Brit had fallen silent, however that relief turned to something softer as he felt a weight on his shoulder.
Michael turned to see Gavin snuggled into Michael's side, his head on his shoulder and his hair tickling his nose, eyes shut tightly. It was rare to see Gavin look so peaceful, and Michael certainly wasn't complaining.
Xi.
The wedding had been nothing out of the ordinary for the majority of the day, and Michael had been considerably bored throughout the ceremony and the ensuing meal. If you'd have looked at Gavin, though, you'd think it was Christmas Day.
The younger man had greeted everyone he'd been introduced to with a wide smile, making an effort to learn their names and ask about their lives. He'd wolfed down the food and danced for as long as his feet would allow him.
His family had loved Gavin. Or as much as they could love one of Michael's male dates. Gavin had been polite, friendly and fun. And whilst he hated to admit it, Gavin had made Michael much more pleasant to be around.
At one point, his mother had pulled Michael to one side, eyeing up Gavin with delight.
“Is this one staying, son? I hope so!” his Mother cooed.
“We’re not together, ma.” Michael had responded, his tone slightly bitter. “Just friends.”
“Oh,” she commented, and realisation washed over her face. This was unrequited love. “That's a shame. You should come home more often, Michael. It's nice to see you.”
It was nice to see his parents, Michael had to admit. Sometimes he did think about giving up his life in Los Santos, moving back to Jersey and starting again. Being with his family, his schoolfriends, maybe even find someone.
It only took one glance at Gavin for those thoughts to leave his mind.
X II.
“Do your parents know what you do? What the crew does?”
Michael and Gavin had retreated to their hotel in the early hours of the morning, both slightly tipsy and grinning like idiots. They were sharing a room with two double beds in it, though Gavin had insisted that they pushed them together and made one giant bed because “it would be so cool, Mi-cool! Geddit?”
Now they lay on the bed, curled up with each other in boxers and t-shirts, Gavin spouting whatever nonsense passing through his brain.
“They do and they don't. They know I do some pretty fucked up things, and none of them are legal. They don't really know the extent of it though. They know Geoff and Jack – for emergencies and shit. They tell everyone I work in security.”
“I miss my parents.” Gavin muttered, his tone wavering.
“I'm sorry, boi.” Michael sighed, running a hand soothingly through Gavin's blonde locks.
“I know it's stupid to. They kicked me out, the disowned me. Still, though...” Gavin trailed off, burrowing closer to Michael on the bed. “Your family is nice. Supportive.”
“It took them a long time to come round to the whole 'gay' thing. A lot of them still aren't too happy about it, but I’m luckier than some I suppose.” Michael shrugged. “Gotta appreciate what you have.”
And right there, in that moment, with Gavin nestled in his arms, Michael did appreciate what he had. Gavin may not love Michael like Michael did Gavin, but he had the Brit in his life, and for that he was grateful.