Chapter Text
Gerry was not the most social person; Michael had always known this. But Michael also knew that it was important to be on good terms with your neighbors. Gerry would have been happy to distance himself from them, limit their interactions to no more than cordial nods in the halls, claiming it was for their protection. Michael, on the other hand, refused to live that way, and it had always been difficult for Gerry to say no to him for something so inconsequential.
Most of their neighbors seemed nice enough. Mrs. Hartford next door was a perfect sweetheart, and Cass and Sam across the hall seemed delighted to have a couple their own age on their floor. Michael hadn’t been expecting to become best friends with any of them, of course, but things had seemed to be going rather well.
At least, until they had reached the door at the end of the hall. The owner of the flat was an older man, and apparently extremely cranky. He’d barely even let Michael get out a ‘Hello’ before shutting the door in their faces again – Michael wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to even open it in the first place. It had been over a week, and Michael still had no idea of even his name. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.
It was a surprise, then, when Michael answered a knock at the door to find him standing on the other side, arms crossed over his chest.
“Hello. Can I help you?” Michael was not generally a petty person, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t tempted to shut the door as soon as he saw him.
The old man shuffled his feet, refusing to look Michael in the eye. “I seem to have locked myself out of my flat, and I can’t get ahold of the landlord.” He had a surprising accent – Michael thought it might be American, though he couldn’t say for sure.
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that, but if you can’t reach him, I doubt we’ll be able to,” Michael said, one eyebrow raised. “You’re welcome to stay here while you wait, if you need.”
“Well, actually, I was hoping maybe that boyfriend of yours could help me out.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure how you mean.” Michael said, trying to keep his voice even despite his rising anger.
“Well, you know his type- “
“His type?” Michael seethed. He had been willing to give this man the benefit of the doubt, but if he was implying what Michael thought he was… “You think that just because he has tattoos and piercings, he’s some kind of criminal?” Inside their flat, he could hear Gerry jump up from the couch at his change in tone.
“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” Their neighbor said, finally looking Michael in the eye.
“Michael?” Gerry wrapped an arm protectively around his waist. “What’s going on?”
“You know how to pick a lock, don’t you, boy?”
“I mean, yeah, but-” Gerry started to say, confused.
“See!” The man said proudly, “I told you.”
“That’s not the point.” Michael snapped.
“Woah, hey, it’s alright, Michael,” Gerry tried to calm him and, just this once, Michael was happy to refuse.
“No, it is not alright,” Michael turned to him instead. “He slammed the door in our faces when we first introduced ourselves, ignores us in the hall, and now he thinks he can come and just demand your help, because he thinks you look like a delinquent?”
He slammed the door shut, cutting off whatever protests the old man may have had. He felt bad about it, once it was done – losing his temper wasn’t something he did often, refusing to help someone even less so. But it wasn’t about him. He had insulted Gerry, and if there was one thing he wouldn’t let slide, it was that.
“It’s the principle of the thing, Gerry,” he said angrily, glaring daggers at the door.
“Michael?” Gerry asked again. He sounded uncertain, more so than Michael had ever heard. He wrapped his arms around Michael from behind, squeezing gently. “Are you alright?”
Michael took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m just – I’m angry!”
Gerry grabbed his shoulders, gently spinning him around and cupping his cheeks in his hands. “I mean, he’s not really wrong, babe. I commit crimes pretty much weekly.”
“Committing crimes for work is not the same as doing it for fun,” Michael said, leaning into the contact, “Besides, it would be different if he had ever bothered to speak to us before. He’s just assuming things!”
“I know, babe, I know. Some people just suck,” Gerry said, pulling Michael into a hug. “I am going to go help him, though. You wanted to be on good terms with our neighbors, right?”
Michael made a face. “Yeah, but…is he even worth it?”
“No, but I’d feel bad if I just left him out there. He is old.” He waited, and when Michael didn’t respond, he prompted gently, “Unless you don’t want me to? Honestly, I’m perfectly happy to just go back to watching our movie.”
“No, you’re right,” Michael sighed. “Be the bigger person, and all that, right?”
“I’ll be back soon,” Gerry said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before ducking out of the door.
He pulled a couple of bobby pins out of his hair as he walked down the hall, bending them into shape. “You still want me to open your door?” He asked the man, who had apparently resolved to wait outside of his flat for the landlord.
“Are you gonna break my lock?” He asked, eyeing the pins in Gerry’s hand suspiciously.
Gerry stopped, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a no, then. Cool.” He turned, taking a few steps back down the hall.
“No, wait!” Gerry stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I’m…sorry,” the man said, spitting the words out as though they pained him. “Can you please help me get my door open?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Gerry said, walking back over. The man grumbled something under his breath, and Gerry rolled his eyes, crouching down and sticking the pins into the lock.
“Smith.” The old man blurted out. “James Smith. I’m…uh…your boyfriend- “
“Michael.”
“Yeah. Michael was right. I’m sorry.”
“Damn. That’s a rare sentiment. Of course, it’s not really me you have to worry about; I’m used to this kind of bullshit from people.” He worked the pins in the lock for a moment, feeling another cotter pin click into place. “Good luck getting back into Michael’s good graces, though. I’ve never seen him that angry before.”
The lock turned a moment later, and Gerry swung the door open. “Thanks,” Smith said awkwardly.
“Good luck,” Gerry said again, patting him on the shoulder before heading back to his own flat.