Chapter Text
Gavin knew he messed up when he saw the envelope on the kitchen table. When he’d pulled it out of the mailbox that morning, it had been crisp, white, and smelled faintly of orange blossoms. It was now decidedly worse for wear, the delicate cursive spelling out his name and address smudged, though still legible.
He set down the shopping bag and shooed Gizmo off the counter. It was a long standing feud between them, one that Gavin was losing. This victory too was short-lived, he had to scoop her up as soon as her paws were back on the floor to keep her from digging through the groceries he’d just brought in.
She let him, purring as she nuzzled his face. Perhaps she could sense that he needed the reassurance of her familiar weight in his arms. Or maybe she figured it was her best shot at getting to the ham he’d picked up at the deli counter.
“Gavin.”
It was ridiculous for Nines’ voice to still send a warm shiver down his spine. They’d been together for close to a year at this point, living together almost as long. And yet, his body reacted with the same thrill it had since the very beginning.
Today, there was something else mixed in though, a dread that settled heavy in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t turn around, didn’t want to meet Nines’ eyes just then. So he listened to his approaching footsteps instead, leaned back when arms snaked around him from behind.
For a moment, they just stood like that, regarding the envelope together, Nines’ cheek against his temple, face tilted downwards to murmur in Gavin’s ear.
“I don’t think that belongs in the garbage.”
“I know, I know, you’re right,” Gavin sighed, “I should've put it with the recycling.”
“Nice try. Why didn’t you open it?”
“I don’t need to open it, I already know what it is.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You could’ve just opened it yourself.”
“That would be a federal crime,” Nines pointed out primly.
“Somehow that’s never kept you from snooping through my emails.”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t already know then,” Gavin snapped, suddenly heated.
Nines didn’t match his tone, his voice as even as ever when he replied, “The probability of this being a wedding invitation is around eighty-seven percent. Why did you throw it away?”
“Because I'm not going. She doesn’t actually want me there, none of them do. Trust me,” Gavin muttered. “This is just to keep up appearances.”
Before Nines could reply, Gizmo decided that she had put up with enough cuddling to warrant a treat, digging her claws into Gavin’s chest and complaining loudly. He was too glad for the interruption to give her the usual speech about not negotiating with terrorists. So he took the opportunity to step out of Nines’ embrace and busy himself with meeting her demands. The sound of the treat bag being opened summoned Piper to the kitchen as well. After the feeding frenzy had died down again, Gavin turned to putting the groceries away. Anything to buy himself a little more time before–
“Who is L ?”
The hot-cold tingle of adrenaline making his heart jump was as familiar as having a gun pointed at his head. He turned around, stared at the card in Nines’ hands, at the picture of two smiling strangers, at Olivia and Andrew request the pleasure of your company.
Nines looked up at him when he didn’t answer, gaze intense in the way that meant he was probably taking Gavin’s blood pressure or something. “You said I could open it.”
After a moment, he held the invitation out to him. Gavin didn’t take it. He didn't say, This was a mistake. He didn't say, I knew it couldn’t last . He didn't say, Get out . He took a breath, and then another, like his therapist had taught him, until his skin stopped feeling like it was shrinking around him. He said, “Livie’s my sister. Half-sister.”
Nines’ expression didn’t change much, but there was a flicker Gavin had learned to read as surprise. He barked out a laugh. It wasn’t a happy sound. “What, did you think it was some ex?”
“The possibility occurred to me.”
“Well, it’s not. Misunderstanding cleared up, we can move on now.”
Nines shook his head. “You never talk about your family, I’d like to meet them.”
“No, you don’t.”
Anger flared in Nines’ expression for the first time. “I do, actually.”
Gavin didn't reply immediately, only watched Nines watching him. He couldn’t tell what Nines was looking for. But whatever he found, it made his expression soften again.
“Would it be physically unsafe for either of us, if we were to visit them?”
He sighed, knowing Nines would catch any lie in an instant. “No, nothing like that.”
“Would it be emotionally safe for you?”
“I–” Gavin threw his hands up. “They’re not– Why do you care so much anyway?”
"Because... I think you care. And I want to be there with you. If you'll let me.”
That took the wind right out of Gavin’s sails. “It’s going to suck,” he warned.
Nines’ gaze didn’t waver. “That’s what you said about living together.”
“And you hate that I always leave the TV running just as much as I knew you would.”
“Worth it.” Nines smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll RSVP for the both of us then.”
Gavin was left standing in the kitchen, disbelieving and more than a little panicky. He couldn’t quite fathom how it had come to this, how he had been maneuvered into this position.
Something bumped against his shin. “You have terrible taste in men,” Gavin told the cat twining around his legs. Gizmo purred in agreement.
The next few weeks were full of fits and starts: requesting time off, sorting out logistics and transportation – trying to get Gavin to talk about any of it was like pulling teeth. The invitation had specified a small town just off the west coast of Florida as the location of the wedding. When Nines mentioned flying out for it, Gavin’s stress levels had spiked so severely he hadn’t put up much of a fight against going by car instead – even if Gavin’s was a twenty-year-old rust bucket with wheels.
The challenge Nines found himself facing now was getting Gavin to pack. Nines’ own suitcase had spent the last two days as a positive role model, gradually and meticulously being filled in plain sight. Gavin had avoided making eye contact with it. The subtle approach having failed, as it usually did where Gavin was concerned, Nines decided to bring out the big guns. He poked his head into the living room, where Gavin was waving a string in front of Gizmo and Piper. Both cats watched him with interest, but seemed disinclined to move.
“If you don’t pack your bags, I’m going to do it for you.”
Gavin shrugged disinterestedly, continuing his attempts to get the cats to play, obviously not picking up on the threat in Nines’ voice.
“And you will be wearing Lieutenant Anderson’s Hawaiian shirts for the entire trip.”
Gavin’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
Nines raised an eyebrow.
Gavin grumbled, but he dropped the toy in a drawer and followed Nines to the bedroom. There, he stood in front of the open closet, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. After a minute, his shoulders dropped in defeat. “This shouldn’t be this hard,” Gavin muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just a few days.”
“Let’s start with your suit,” Nines suggested. His voice was calm and quiet, but it still made Gavin jump.
“Okay, yeah.”
After some shuffling through the lesser used parts of his wardrobe, Gavin emerged with a garment bag on a hanger. He made to throw it on the bed, but changed his mind at Nines’ stern look. He rolled his eyes, but dutifully folded it and put it in the suitcase. He took less care with the clothes that followed, tossing them in the other half. T-shirts and shorts, socks, underwear, dress shirt–
“Bring a second one, just in case,” Nines said as he saved the first from being stuffed in with the rest. He folded it neatly, the way he had done with all of his own, and put it on top of the garment bag.
Gavin sat down on the bed next to him and Nines pulled the second shirt from his unresisting fingers as well. He caught the small smile that played around Gavin’s lips.
“What?”
“You’re just such a mother hen sometimes. And you do realize I could bring a thousand shirts, I’d still sweat through all of them in less than half an hour. It’s Florida. In August .”
Nines shrugged. “I don’t exactly feel the heat.”
“No, but you’ve seen what that level of humidi– Oh my god! ” Gavin blinked at him. “You've never left Detroit before, have you.”
Nines raised an eyebrow, but didn’t deny it. Gavin wasn’t paying attention anyway.
“It’s so easy to forget, since you’re such an obnoxious know-it-all with Google in your head,” he was saying, “but you haven’t actually done shit in your life!”
“Thank you?”
Gavin’s smile bloomed into a broad grin. “Your first trip ever! Do you know what that means?”
“Nothing good,” Nines muttered. This too went ignored.
“I have the best idea! This is going to be epic. Wait right here.”
So Nines waited while Gavin dragged things from every hidden corner, closet, or cupboard in their apartment. The commotion was enough for Piper to make an appearance. She made herself comfortable in Gavin’s still half empty suitcase and joined Nines in observing the growing pile of stuff form in the middle of the bedroom. There was something that looked inflatable with accompanying paddles, a tent, sleeping bag, assorted outdoor cooking gear, a helmet that looked to be intended for either rock climbing or caving, diving goggles and snorkel, along with a mountain of other things that were buried too quickly for him to identify.
None of it looked like a good idea to bring to a wedding; in fact, he was increasingly convinced it was a disaster in the making as he watched the pile grow. But the look on Gavin’s face was open and happy in a way that had become rare in the last few days. He radiated uncomplicated joy and Nines was unwilling to risk that for something as trivial as practicality.
That’s how he ended up helping Gavin lug his collection of curiosities to the garage and strapping them to the roof of his decrepit Ford Escape, only putting his foot down when Gavin started eyeing the dusty kayak he kept down there.
“We’re going to a wedding, not on a six month wilderness expedition,” he pointed out.
“Fine,” Gavin had to stifle a yawn.
Nines reached out an arm and Gavin leaned into his side. “Let’s go to bed.”
Art by CptJH