Work Text:
Mornings could be many things for the crew. Some were loud, rambunctious, full of yelling and teasing and the beginnings of adrenaline rushes. Some were quiet, contemplative, as the crew licked their wounds and reflected on what went wrong. Some were full of laughter and bright conversation as they sat around the grand dining room table, sharing breakfast like the strange little family they were.
But for three of them, some were like this. Soft light filtering though the curtains, painting the room and it’s minimalistic furnishings in morning golds. Limbs tangled together as they slept, keeping each other close for warmth and for comfort. The heist the day before featuring close calls and causing worry, but today they were together, safe and sound.
The first to wake was the closest to the windows, the auburn-haired man stirring slowly, his fingers brushing over the furthest’s arm in feather-light touches. His hair was mussed from sleep, the curls scattered along the white pillow. He could feel the even breathing of the man between them, face nuzzled into the first’s chest, hiding away from the sunlight for now.
One bleary brown eye blinked open, getting a grand view of golden hair wildly sticking every which way. A small smile curved his lips as he registered the sight of his boi’s bed-head. This was an ideal morning for him, warm and comfortable with his lovers close, bathed in morning light. They were safe and sound for another day.
The middle was the next to stir, a few moments after the first, starting with soft nuzzles to the chest he was hidden in. Next came the soft, content coos, like the small bird they claimed he was part. The first snickered softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Morning, Gavvy,’’ he murmured, mindful of their third still snoring softly away on the other side of their bed.
Finally, hazel eyes blinked sleepily up at him, sleepy smile rivaling the sun in how bright and pure it was, his accent thick, “Mornin’, Michael Boi.”
Next came the soft kisses, slow and sweet, just as lazy as they felt curled together. Kisses to lips, to noses, to foreheads. Peppered all over the skin, occasionally tickling, causing little giggles to sound. This was routine. This was their cherished mornings.
Eventually the last would wake, realizing what the other two were up to, and demanding his own kisses. He would start with the back of Gavin’s neck, the crown of his head, maybe even tickling an ear with his breath. He would tangle his fingers with Michael’s, a steady grip.
“Jeremy,” Gavin would finally giggle, squirming between his boys, “That tickles, Jeremy!”
“Then turn over and actually kiss me,” was Jeremy’s cheeky and unapologetic response, beaming when Gavin did just that, rolling in Michael’s arms to give Jeremy the same treatment he gave Michael before.
At least, until they broke apart to a playful huff, “He got his, but where’s my kisses, you fuck?”
Jeremy laughed, reaching over Gavin to cup Michael’s cheek, “Aw, is my Mikey jealous? Let me fix that.”
Gavin leaned into the pillows as his boys kissed each other awake, the golden light of the morning slowly growing more clear and bright. He loved lazy mornings like this, settled warmly with his boys, exchanging kisses and cuddles, not a care in the world. Work was a far off thought, something to only consider when they managed to escape each other’s arms. Not that they wanted to escape. It was the world’s best trap, one they would fall into over and over until the end.
The playful glint in their eyes as they pulled away from each other gave Gavin pause; that glint never seemed to bode well when it was the two of them, “What are you Lads planning?”
He got his answer in the form of being smothered with kisses from both his boys, giggling softly as their breath and lips tickled his skin. A few slobbery kisses made him squeal and playfully fend off the attacker, only to be kissed by the other. It was the best kind of being outnumbered, and Gavin cherished it. Even if his boys were assholes and not letting him return the favor!
Eventually, the three would settle again, Gavin on his back and his boys’ heads on his chest. He would play with Michael’s curls and massage at the knot on Jeremy’s neck. He would be trapped under their arms, their legs tangled with his and they’d consider dozing more, making it a nice lazy morning with the men they loved. At least, until the smell of sizzling bacon would make them stir once more.
And stir they did, yawning, stretching, giving each other sleepy grins. Jeremy was the first to roll off the bed onto his feet, the smells from the Penthouse kitchen far to enticing to ignore. Michael was next, leaving Gavin whining in the middle of their bed, pouting at being left behind in favor of food.
Luckily, the scent of fresh coffee was enough to get him up as well.
Dressed in tees and pajama pants, their version of decent for this early in the day, the three traipsed into the kitchen, where everything was in full swing. Gavin made a beeline for the coffee pot and Jeremy got his hand slapped by a Geoff in full chef-mode as he reached for a slice of bacon. Michael knew better by now. Most of the time. Now was not one of those times and he managed to snag his greasy prize before Geoff could swat him, too.
This was the fun part of the morning. The whole crew gathered to celebrate a successful day previous with Geoff’s amazing breakfast. Jack was cutting out references to the heist from the paper, Lindsay and Fiona playfully arguing who looked better kicking ass yesterday. Alfredo looked ready to fall asleep into his coffee, and Matt was actually asleep sitting up. By contrast, Trevor was chatting with Geoff about their next moves and their next job.
Michael “accidentally” bumped Matt awake as he moved to sit, getting a tired glare in return. Gavin plopped down next to Michael, nursing his coffee like it was God’s gift to Earth. Gavin would argue it indeed was the best thing, other than Michael and Jeremy. That would get him so many gags if he said it aloud.
He was about to, just to see the reaction, when Geoff proclaimed breakfast to be finished. Geoff was never to be outdone on food. Brought to the table before them was a verifiable smorgasbord ranging from bacon and eggs to waffles to biscuits and gravy.
“Oh, I am about to get so fat,” Jeremy loudly told them all, loading up his plate with a bit of everything.
Michael scoffed, “I bet I’ll get fatter. Mikey gonna eat!”
“You lot are lucky,” Gavin grinned, “That I’ll love you even if you get fat.”
Geoff reached over to ruffle Gavin’s hair, “As long as you can still bone him, he’s happy.”
“Geoff! That’s not true, Geoff! I’d still love them even if their dicks were broken like yours.”
Calm breakfasts were not their forte of this group, and this was just another example as Geoff tried to rebuke the claim of his broken dick and Jack decidedly not helping, chiming in with examples. The rest felt no mercy for their leader, whose voice was cracking even more than before, and could do nothing more than just laugh at his misfortune.
“I slave away to feed you all, and this is how you repay me?! Betrayed! I’ve been fucking betrayed!”
“Thanks for the food, Geoff,” Matt grinned, fork halfway to his mouth, “Even if you do have a broken dick, at least you make great waffles.”
That set the table off again and Geoff could only sulk over his eggs, mumbling something about ungrateful assholes.
“So,” Trevor spoke up, glancing at the paper, “What lovely words did the media have for us this time? Are we still a ‘blight on the community’? Or have we graduated?”
Jack smirked, “The police chief called us a violent menace to society, does that count?”
“Violent? But we didn’t even hurt anyone!”
“I mean, we did nearly level the bank.”
“You’re fucking welcome. You asked for boom, I delivered,” Michael was entirely unapologetic though a mouthful of bacon.
“I asked for boom,” Geoff sighed, “Not an entire demolitions team. But I guess it worked, so whatever. Good job.”
“And Fredy with that clutch snipe on the tires of the SWAT van!” Fiona laughed, “They spun so fucking hard. It was crazy.”
Alfredo sat up a bit more, looking quite proud of himself, “Come on, baby, you know I always come through. I gotchu, girl.”
“Also, where the fuck did you find that truck thing, Jeremy?” Lindsay laughed, “With the fist? I totally want one.”
“Do not give them a truck with a fist. No matter how badly they want it, that is a terrible idea.”
“Fisty Tim?” Jeremy grinned, soaking up the boos and groans from the name, “I’ll hook you up, Linds. No matter what my boyfriend seems to think. He forgets I like enabling you.”
Michael sighed, “You two are a menace when put together. Worse than Team Nice Dynamite! Gavvy, they’re stealing our thunder, boi!”
“I bet we can cause more chaos than they can, Michael! We’re Los Santos’ original wildcards, yeah?”
“Oh, you are so on,” Lindsay wiggled her fork at them both, “We’ll see which duo is more chaotic.”
“No. No, you are not burning down the city. No,” Geoff, like normal, was completely ignored. He wondered how he ever thought he was in charge of this group of destructive idiots.
And so, their breakfast continued on much the same. The sun got higher, Geoff’s patience with his crew got lower. Jack’s amusement at Geoff’s frustration only raised. And, slowly, the crew planned their day full of chaos and entertainment, as only they could.
Some mornings started soft and quiet, but they always seemed to turn into something much more fun. And that night, the three boyfriends would curl up again, safe in each others arms, content. And the next morning would start much the same, with kisses and cuddles and warm golden light spilling though the windows.