#michael gavin

1

                                                      ---

Michael pressed his back against the wall, letting his eyes slip shut as he took the first biting swig of alcohol. The kitchen was quiet, the small clock fastened above the counter clicking lightly, matching the dull throb of the blood in his veins. He liked it here, this apartment, this home. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, little notes pinned to the fridge, a collection of wine bottles placed carefully in a high cabinet. The table he was seated at had little scuffs on it, and he absently picked at the one nearest him, feeling the wood beneath his fingers.

The first place him and Lindsay had made love in their apartment had been on this table, a spur of romance during a long day of moving. At the time, he had never thought this life could be better. Thought that nothing would be able to outdo that day, his girl, his world, his whole being.

He moved the placemat to the side to reveal silver sharpie markings, Gavin’s distinct handwriting sprawled haphazardly across the wood.

You drank my beer, you mingy piss pot   <3 Gavin

Gavin had scribbled it furiously when Michael was in the bathroom, then tried to cover it up by crowding everyone’s beer bottles above it. Michael smiled and ran his fingers across the words, grateful it hadn’t been scrubbed off yet, yet burdened with the idea of sharing memories with two lovers on the same piece of furniture. His smile faded, and he took another drink, closing his eyes and letting his mind go silent.

                                                      —-

  This was the third time in the past week Lindsay had found Michael collapsed against something, his usual loud demeanor reposed and quiet, calm and collected. She closed the front door behind her and placed her bag on the floor, watching her fiance carefully as he lay sprawled across the couch. When he gave no signs of being bothered by her, she moved and sat down next to him, running her fingers through his hair. The edges of his mouth curved into a smile and he rested his head on her chest, keeping his eyes shut and his breathing quiet.

Lindsay wasn’t sure what had happened, but something had changed in Michael. His eyes were alight, his voice was happy, but there a blur to his outline, one small switch that had been forgotten one morning, never turned on. She had her guesses, many of them, and as much as she tried to convince herself that it was stress with upcoming wedding, deep down she knew why he was aching.

She kissed the top of his head gently, and he curled into her. But as she ran her hands soothingly across his back, her eyes stung, and she was never more terrified of their future.

                                                        —-

  "Hello?"

"Meg…hi."

"Gavin! Hey?" She sounded genuinely surprised, but happily so, and Gavin picked at a fray on his jeans awkwardly. He held his phone loosely, half hoping he’d drop it and end his humiliation, but her voice still rang clear as day through the line.

"What’s up?"

"I’m sorry to bother you, Meg, I just… well, it’s—"

"Is it about Michael?"

Gavin tried to ignore the teeth-clenching fact that she knew he'd never call her unless it related to Michael. It was as hard to drown out as the concern in her voice. Unbiased, loving, genuine concern, and the moment Gavin realized he hadn’t really wanted to talk to anybody, he just wanted someone to know, his face twisted in a hopeless attempt to stop the tears.

"It’s getting too deep. We can’t keep doing this, him and me."

And there’s a pause, so deep and unsettling that Gavin hears what she says before her mouth even opens.

"Would you be able to stop?"

And Gavin hangs up, because he can’t bear to hear himself say no.

                                                    —-

  Michael and Gavin hadn’t spoken about that day in the office, which wasn’t unusual, as all of their rendezvous wore the promise of silence. But there was a small twinge of understanding that would pass between them when they met eyes at work, a realization that the line they had walked so carelessly was a boundary, the last stepping stone before falling beneath the borders of attachment and possession. And they had slipped. They had lost their footing, and as frantically as Michael would try and pull himself back up from that cliff, there would be no solid ground there to greet him.

He tries with Lindsay. He’s scared and he’s frightened and he wants to go back, so desperately. But dinner is too friendly. He can’t taste his food and his hands shake. And in the darkness of their bedroom he tries to love her, tries to be what she loves, but it falls flat and she’s in the bathroom, trying to let the shower cover her tears as he beats his fist into his pillow.

                                                        —-

  At work, he tries not to focus on the disaster of his home life. The tiny office is his sanctuary, and Lindsay rarely intrudes, sending Caleb in to do any filming that would normally fall to her. Michael is grateful for the time, even if it means an even heavier burden of guilt.

Because really, despite his frustrations, all Michael wants is Gavin. To see him. To be close to him, to have his presence untainted by a reminder of everything they had destroyed. Because as soon as the lights click on and Gavin is there with his third cup of coffee, smiling at Michael in a way that makes his very bones feel alive, he feels nothing but insurmountable happiness.

Fortunately, the daily banter between them never belied any sense of disturbance in their relationship.

At least, not initially.

"It’s fact, Gavin, you irritate the fuck out of everyone, on a, uh, on a daily basis."

"What?" Gavin asked, pretending to be flabbergasted. Michael looked away from his screen to catch Gavin grinning at him, and he smiled.

"Imagine living with him," Geoff muttered, before cursing slightly as he dropped the papers for the upcoming AHWU.

"I’m not irritating, what have I done to irritate you?" Gavin demanded.

"You don’t do anything, you’re just a whiney little bitch in general. That’s who you are. Gavin, the mingey little whino."

Michael didn’t wait for Gavin’s reply before looking over again, smiling as Gavin turned towards him, biting his lip and shaking his head in disappointment, a smile across his face despite the teasing. He was so beautiful, really. He was always beautiful.

And before Michael really registered what he was doing, he had leaned over and kissed him.

Gavin smiled against his lips, but Michael pulled back quickly, a goofy grin to match Gavin’s own expression, hoping against everything that his stupidity had gone unnoticed. No one seemed to give them attention: Ray was focused on his phone, Geoff was chewing his lip and reading the latest releases to himself, and Jack was turned away from them, scrolling through comments on their YouTube page.

But something had alighted in Gavin, and Michael felt his chair being pulled against his will as Gavin rolled him back over, instantly pressing his lips against Michael’s in a much deeper kiss, sliding his hands down Michael’s arms to pin them gently against the armrests. Gavin urged Michael’s mouth open with a swipe of his tongue, and Michael gave in, the compelling need to feel Gavin in every way possible completely overcoming his senses and reasoning. He broke free of Gavin’s grip and wound one hand through brown hair, using the other to urge Gavin forward, press themselves together just a bit harder. He was always so warm.

It lasted only a few seconds, a quick heated kiss of tongue and lapse of judgement before they pulled away for air, eyes focused on each other so deeply it took several seconds longer to realize they were being watched.

"Whoa," Geoff muttered, his eyebrows raised as he glanced from both of them, eyes asking questions he knew he wouldn’t get answers to.

Ray laughed lightly under his breath before turning back to his phone, shaking his head.

"Boundaries, guys."

Jack remained lost in his computer, but Geoff was staring at them, and Michael struggled under the gaze, trying to find humor in it.

"You gonna record the AHWU or what Geoff, c’mon," Michael tried to laugh, turning back to his game and clicking buttons mindlessly, silently pleading with Geoff not to pursue it, to leave it, to leave their business out of his realm of curiosity.

But there was a fire in Geoff’s eyes, an understanding, and Michael knew he had witnessed a crime.

"You guys want to tell me what that was about?"

Jack looked around, sensing the tension in Geoff’s voice, and Michael knew the situation was spiraling out of control. Gavin was tapping his fingers frantically against his own knee, jumpy, alert, and nervous. There was a flush of red already adoring his cheeks. 

Michael gave a quick glance at Ray, pleading for a distraction.

"Hey Geoff, come on man, just let them do it on the AHWU. We’ll all be able to get a raise with the number of views we get."

Geoff ignored Ray and motioned for Michael to follow him outside, eyes cold. Ray gave Michael a sheepish, half-hearted shrug as he got up from his chair, and Michael had the constricting feeling that maybe Ray wasn’t as okay with the incident as Michael would have thought. The idea alone left Michael with more guilt than when Lindsay had found out; because if Ray wasn’t ready to accept what he was doing in secret, what hope did he have off accepting it himself?

Geoff led him outside, into the fresh air and bright sunshine, neither of which were able to melt away the thick tension between the two of them.

But when Geoff turned to look at him, there was hurt in his eyes, and any excuses Michael had been recklessly pursuing in his pacing thoughts were instantly frozen, and guilt was flushed through his veins like ice.

"Michael, are you cheating on Lindsay?"

And in that swift moment, when the words were blared out in front of him, seared into Michael’s mind and choked down his throat, he knew he didn’t want to lie to Geoff. He didn’t even want to try.

"She knows," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

But Geoff didn’t skip a beat, pulling words from Michael that he hadn’t even spoken.

"Does she know it’s still going on?"

"No. Maybe. I don’t know."

"You’re supposed to be getting married, Michael. I can’t imagine she’s okay with this."

Michael’s heartbeat quickened in the time it took for Geoff to turn their conversation from a confession to a lecture, and Michael’s defenses immediately roared into being. His instinctive reaction to replace any emotion with anger as a defense mechanism was flipped on as he tried to feel intimidating against a man he respected. 

"What do you know about it? We’re working it out, and I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your own fucking business."

But Michael had made a horrible mistake, and if there was anger in Geoff’s eyes before, there was nothing short of blind rage in them now as he pressed Michael up against the wall with his hands fisted around Michael’s shirt collar. Michael's anger was sapped out of him as quickly as it took him to meet the fire in Geoff's eyes.

"Gavin is my business, my son is my fucking business, and if you think playing a game with him or with the adoring woman who is somehow still standing beside you, it instantly becomes my problem.”

Geoff’s voice was fierce, and the reality of the situation, Michael’s choices, everything began to crash down upon him, and he felt blind and helpless. He felt smothered. The could feel the energy being sapped out of him, the willingness to stand up for himself and his actions being pulled from his very fingertips as he broke down heavily in Geoff's grip. 

"Geoff, I’m trying to work this out. I swear to God I am."

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

"I don’t know!"

Geoff growled and pushed Michael harder against the wall.

"Michael, just stop! Stop fooling around and get on with your life, with Lindsay! You have a great thing and you’re fucking it up! You think I can’t see the way she’s been walking around, her eyes red all the fucking time? You think I haven’t noticed you and Gavin? You think I don’t fucking see you pulling up outside my house to visit him in the middle of the night?!”

"Geoff—"

He couldn't handle this.

"Just stop! Leave Gavin alone!"

"Please, I—"

What was he fighting for?

"Stop doing this to him, let him go!"

"I CAN’T!”

And Geoff faltered, his grip going lax as Michael buried his face into his hands. There were tears falling from his eyes as he shook, and as Geoff let go of his shirt Michael slumped bodily against the wall, his barrier broken and his remaining strength shattered. Words poured from him now as easily as the tears came.

"I can’t, Geoff. I love him." He was choking now, all sense of pride forgotten and he finally let fall the agony that had become a swirling torment inside him. "I don’t want to let him go. I… I don’t know what I’d do without him."

To his surprise, Geoff bent down next to him and rested a hand across his shoulder. It was comforting, and warm, and had an air of apology to it. The tension around them disappated, and the world felt endless. He waited to speak until Michael’s body had stopped shaking and the tears on his face had faded into salty stains on his cheeks.

"Michael, I didn’t know. I thought…" he paused, but Michael could feel the unspoken words. It's what everyone would think, that Michael was just playing Gavin, using him, an easy lay for a taken man. Michael tried to remember if that's what he used to see it as, too. 

"I’m here for you, you know, if you need me. While you’re…figuring all of this out."

Michael kept his eyes glued to the pavement beneath him, but let the warmth of Geoff’s words flow over him, trying to get the feeling of comfort to replace the icy guilt in his veins.

"Thanks, Geoff. And I’m sorry, you know... about Gavin."

"Don’t be, he’s happiest with you," Geoff sighed, allowing a powerful silence rest between them before laying a crashing blow upon Michael. "I don’t want to take that away from him anymore than you do."

                                                       —-

  But Michael isn’t ready to give in. His relentless need to salvage what he can with Lindsay is challenged only by the ravenous desire to spend every waking moment buried in Gavin’s skin. Every day for Michael holds a fiery pit in his stomach, where his options and loyalties clash beautifully against his judgement, slipping off of their footings as each choice hangs by a string one minute, and a thick, binding chain the next.

Agony has a new special meaning for Michael as he spends every day finding new definitions for the word ‘platonic’.

                                                       —-

  Lindsay tries something a little more close to home the next time, a simple night filled with movies and pizzas. They even took off work early to spend more time in each other’s company.

And it starts off well, it really does, but by the end of the second movie he’s growing restless, and his mind is in overdrive. He feels a sense of loss, of worry, wondering what he’s supposed to do, wondering, goddamnit, what Gavin is feeling right now.

And when Lindsay curls up against him, the horrible truth smacks him again in the face and he can see the warning label stretched across his body, clear as day.

Cheater.

But only, somehow, it’s Gavin who’s the victim, and he knows in the back of his mind who he feels he’s really betraying. Geoff’s words ring heavy in his ears, and if he had ever felt guilty sparing a fleeting touch with Gavin in the office, it’s nothing compared to the shame he feels now.

And slowly, he starts to realize he can either hurt one person, or hurt two. But regardless, the sweet, beautiful woman pressed against him will be damaged, and no happiness that Gavin could provide him would ever make him okay with that.

                                                        —-

  At 12:24 he’s driving too fast. He knows Lindsay will wake up soon and find him gone, and she’ll know exactly where he went, but in the larger scheme of things, it felt like such a small thing.

He had spent the past two hours staring at the ceiling, eyes open and mind racing. His body had been bathed in moonlight from the window and it drove him insane, each small move under the covers shifting and shining as the light hit her hair and it was so lovely. She was so beautiful, like a painting, and Michael wanted nothing more than to place her on a pedestal for the world to see her grace.

Place her there in hopes someone who deserved her would take interest.

Then maybe she wouldn’t notice. She wouldn’t see his betrayal.

The gravel in front of Geoff’s house crunched beneath his tires and he didn’t bother trying to park in the darkness anymore. The air around him was biting and cold as he stepped out, and there was Gavin’s door, a quaint attachment to the main house that Geoff had built him when they all realized Gavin wasn’t going to leave their family.

Gavin’s door was unlocked, and Michael knew it was just in case. Just in case Michael ended up deciding to do exactly what he was here to do.

He was soft, he was gentle, and he found Gavin’s sleeping form sprawled across his bed, his phone inches from his limp fingertips as his chest rose and fell in a deep, well-deserved sleep.

Gavin wasn’t surprised when Michael pressed his lips against his neck, kicking off his shoes and pants to crawl beside him, movements eerily quiet in the stillness of night. Hands reached out to lazily drape across Michael’s back as he pulled him close, eyes shut with a smile turning the corners of his mouth. Michael kissed him, once, twice, then slow and deep, an aching need relieved as he felt his body relax into a touch he craved so deeply.

Hands found the hems of shirts and they were discarded, a small pile of clothing growing on the ground beside them, and slowly the room began to heat as their lips moved against each other, mouths exploring the others body like they’d never had the chance to before. In a way they had never thought to do. The air was hot as they moved against each other and Michael swallowed it in with every breath, tasting Gavin beneath him and around him as he buried his face in Gavin’s neck and pressed against him.

"I’ve missed you, Michael."

His words were so quiet, spoken into the darkness and the heat that it left Michael wondering whether it was real or a memory. How many times had Gavin said it? How many times did Michael ignore how deep it had become? He looked up, but Gavin was nothing but beauty underneath him, legs wound against Michael’s and fingers trailing themselves down his spine, each touch setting off a small explosion on each of Michael’s nerves. Their eyes met, and where there was a usual cloud of lust and ferocity, Michael was met with only bright orbs staring back at him, drinking in every detail of his face, nothing but life and love and connection.

It was maddeningly perfect, and Michael leaned forward to capture his lips again, letting Gavin swallow his words.

"I’ve missed you too, baby."

                                                       —-

  The sun was already shining as they woke, arms and limbs tangled together. Michael felt Gavin moving next to him, trying to extract himself without disturbing the sleeping man next to him, and if Michael hadn’t been so groggy he might have thought it was sweet.

But as Gavin moved about the room and Michael began to fully wake, eyes still shut to ward off as much of the day as he could, that constricting feeling curled in his chest again. It had been silenced only by the bliss last night but was back in full force, prickling at him, like a bittersweet relapse of a drug he couldn’t quit.

And when he finally opened his eyes Gavin was there, kneeling next to him with his pants on but still unbuckled and a warm hand on Michael’s shoulder.

"Hey, we’re late for work."

Michael caught his eyes, and there was something there he couldn’t read. Something decidedly different from last night. Michael sat up and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, wishing more than anything he could lay in this warm bed with Gavin until the world passed him by or he’d finally have the strength to face it. Whichever came first.

"Is Geoff on our ass already?"

Gavin picked up his shirt and stood up, stretching it over himself. “No, he hasn’t even called. No one has. And it’s almost nine.”

Michael cursed and leaned over the side of the bed, scrambling to find his jeans and extract his phone from the pocket. Bewildered, he stared at it, finding no notifications to greet him on the screen. His heart sunk, and he wasn’t sure which outcome he would’ve preferred.

"She hasn’t called either, has she?" Gavin asked quietly, locking eyes with Michael for only a moment before pulling two Red Bulls out of small fridge he kept him the one room house. He handed one to Michael, looking both apprehensive yet stern.

"No," Michael mumbled, taking the drink gratefully and gathering his clothes.

"Maybe that’s a good thing," Gavin responed, and Michael heard the tone in his voice, knew he was testing the waters. He slipped on his pants and watched Gavin closely, but the boy was avoiding his eyes, opting to scroll through his phone instead.

"I don’t want to do this right now, Gav," Michael responed, opening his can and downing half of it. When he looked up again Gavin was finally watching him, eyes burning, but stance soft.

"Well when would you like Michael, now’s a good of time as any. No one seems to miss us. Everyone seems to know exactly where we are,” he hummed, his tone too bitter as he placed a cheerful emphasis on the last four words. Michael knew this mood, and he knew it well. Gavin wouldn't back down until he made his point, despite how feverently Michael would try and avoid it. 

"No one knows shit," Michael growled, throwing his shirt on and sliding into his shoes. "We get drunk together all the time, people—"

"Do you think they know we fuck each time, too?"

"Gavin, don’t fucking start this!" Michael lashed out, a bit louder than he meant to. He gritted his teeth and stared down Gavin, who was watching him with equal intensity. The room was stiff, the heavy silence after Michael's words ringing only for a moment before Gavin's voice rose to meet him.  

"I’m not starting anything, Michael! This has been started, and I’m trying to fucking finish it, and you want to keep it going like this for as long as you can, playing coy, pretending—"

"We’ve been doing just fine for this long, why does it have to change now?" Michael asked, his voice low as he moved forward, approached Gavin. He hadn’t felt this heated in a long time, hadn’t felt real, tangible emotion other than guilt and love flowing through him, and he couldn’t tell if it was rage, or fear. Michael's eyes lingered, taking in Gavin's disheveled apprearance before meeting green eyes, trying to see past the determination in them and convey to Gavin the need to let it go. 

But Gavin didn’t back down. For once, he stood his ground against Michael despite the fire in the redhead’s eyes, and without warning pulled Michael forward by his already stretched shirt, crashing his mouth against the boy in front of him. Gavin's nails dug into him as Michael moved to accept the kiss, and what may have been lust before, had now turned possessive, and Michael knew they were both in too deep. 

There was only a few moments of the slide and press of lips that followed the hard kiss, barely enough time for Michael to register what happened, before Gavin pulled away, eyes alight, voice soft and demanding.

"It has to change because I love you, Michael, and I’m tired of sharing."

And there was such finality to it, such a dominance from Gavin that commanded nothing but the air of attention that Michael was struck, his defiance gone and his fear swallowed, and suddenly, he knew there was nothing he wanted more in this world than the boy standing in front of him. It had gone from a wistful dream to an undeniable fact in the time it took Gavin to claim what had been his all along.

"Gavin…"

But Gavin kissed him again, and Michael felt his knees get weak. He had it so bad, and at the feeling of Gavin’s lips on his, he was too lost to even deem himself pathetic. Gavin pulled away and looked at him, eyes swimming in that same searching look Gavin had given him last night. The longing, the fulfillment, the blissful contentment that came with the knowledge of absolute certainty.

"Michael… I can’t make this decision for you, and you can’t make it yourself. There’s only one person in this world that can."

A simple statement, nothing more, but it brought that stinging feeling back to Michael’s eyes, and the thought of confronting the impossible, the unthinkable, weighed too heavily for him to respond.

But Gavin’s hands ran along his arms, a comfort he had come to miss so desperately.

"Don’t worry, you don’t need to say anything. I’ll take care of it."

And without question, Michael was pulling away from the Ramsey’s house with Gavin next to him, a heavy pulse and fearful heart. They were silent as they headed towards work, the inescapable destination where they knew Lindsay would be waiting for them.

                                                    —-

  When they pulled into the lot Michael’s hands were noticeably shaking, and though Gavin’s concerned touch helped pull him back from the void, he couldn’t help but feel as though he were operating on autopilot.

Kara smiled at them when they walked in, and Michael felt another pang at his heart. She was such good friends with Lindsay, would she hate him as well, when this was all over? But Gavin had been right, and no one looked twice when they entered the building together, despite lacking their usual partners of Lindsay and Geoff.

Michael wasn’t expecting to find her so quickly, but when they opened the door to Achievement Hunter office there she stood, leaning over a computer and discussing an edit with Geoff. Michael stared at her as long as he could, basking in the innocence before she could take notice of him. Ray was there as well, tucked into his corner and giving Michael and Gavin a look that conveyed nothing other than blatant curiosity.

But before Michael could wonder, could even feel anything, she had turned, locking eyes first with Michael, then with Gavin, and her expression was undefinable. Geoff stood behind her cautiously, waiting for the moment he would need to step in. He looked as nervous as Michael, fingers clenching into fists and relaxing again. 

"Finally decide to show up?"

Her voice is smooth, but there is malice, and her eyes shine with nothing but betrayal. Michael looks for hurt, looks for sorrow, but her face remains neutral save the spark of treachery.

"Lindsay, I’m sorry—"

"And you,” she breathed, turning to fix her gaze on Gavin before he could tumble through the rest of his apology. “Did you enjoy your night with my fiance?”

"Lindsay, don’t—"

She slammed her notebook down on the desk beside her, and everyone else in the room was frozen into their seats as she stared down the two men in front of her.

"How long has this been going on, Gavin? Michael? And don’t tell just the month I found out, I want some fucking honesty for once."

The air around them seemed to evaporate, forcing them into silence. The ticking of the clock behind them was the only thing to distract against the shock and realization on Ray’s face, and Gavin twitched uncomfortably. Geoff ran a hand through his hair, looking lost, closing his eyes as he prepared for the inevitable spiral downwards.

"Since February," Gavin whispered, and Michael was thankful, because with the way Lindsay was looking at them, ice cold and bitter, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to form the words.

Silence followed again, before Lindsay was whispering.

"It’s December, Gavin. This has been going on for almost a year?"

Gavin only nodded, and the world changed again as Michael winced, waiting for the outcry. But to his surprise, the hatred slid off of Lindsay’s face, replaced only by a bittersweet understanding, a look of dismayed realization. A final conclusion. Her eyes softened, and while she still wore nothing but the grace of sadness, her eyes glimmered with realizzation as she looked at Michael.

"Michael, when you said you would stop…"

Michael tried to take a step forward, but his legs wouldn’t move. The air was caught in his throat and words were a foreign concept to him, an ability lost within him. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know how to say it, but he heard Gavin’s voice, stronger than his own, speak out for him.

"He tried, Lindsay. He pushed me away for so long and I tried, I really did. Honest. I just—”

"You couldn’t," she whispered, and Michael was certain it was the saddest, most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

"Lindsay," Gavin swallowed, and Michael still couldn’t fathom how he made the words. His own throat was dry and his body was barely holding itself together. But Gavin still managed the strength and approached her, eyes shining and desperate. It was cautious, but determined.

"Lindsay I’m so, so sorry to have done this to you. I never wanted… we never meant to hurt you, it’s just, some things," he swallowed again, and Michael's pulse quickened. He had never seen Gavin look so set upon something, so focused. "Some things are meant to be, and some things aren’t. And Michael loves you too much to ask this of you, to ask anything of you, but I... I have to. I’m nowhere near worth what he is, or what you are, I’m… I’m not worth anything, but…"

And at this point, Gavin pauses, and tears are running down Lindsay’s face, soft and gentle, and she doesn’t even look mad anymore. She doesn't even look hurt. If Michael could pinpoint the second her heart was breaking, he knew he’d be too late. He’d be so many months too late, but it was only now that she could let it show.

"I have to ask you, and it’s the only way Michael would ever be okay, it’s the only right way to do it, because we’ve been doing it so wrong. I’m not worth him and you’re worth so much more, and I just…"

And the tears fall harder from Lindsay’s face as Gavin gets down on his knees, holding her hands in his, and she lets him, she lets him and she clutches onto him desperately because it’s always been nothing but love, and they all know that.

"Please, Lindsay. Let me have him."

And Michael turns away, hiding his face in his hands because it’s all so stupid, and he has no idea what he’s doing, or what Gavin is doing, but tears are leaking from his eyes and Geoff has a hand over his mouth, and Ray is staring, so quiet, so shocked, and even he looks more emotional than Michael has ever seen.

Lindsay clutches Gavin’s hand, and she’s having a hard time seeing through all those tears but she focuses on Michael, and Michael looks back, terrified, hopeful, heartbroken, a range of emotions he never expected to feel tearing through his body like fire. He never expected Gavin to pour himself out like this, in front of the people who mean most to him. Michael never expected it to be because of him. Never expected to love him as deeply as he did.

"Michael?"

Michael swallowed, determined to find his voice, determined to answer Lindsay confidently, declare everything he could do, would do, should have done, and to make up for the things he couldn’t change. But the only words that came out of him were the most honest words he had said in the past months.

"Lindsay… I love him."

And when she meets his eyes, it’s with a sad smile, and suddenly the world is spinning again, and the crinkles around her eyes are there and Michael can feel the blood in his body, pumping through his heart that had momentarily bleeped dead.

She turns back to Gavin, who was still holding her hands delicately in his, and she leans down, tears still evident upon her cheeks as she smiles.

"You can have him, Gav. I’m pretty sure you always have."

Adn suddnely they're holding each other, Gavin falling into her as he showers her with tears and thanks, and her face is still red from crying as she holds him back, whispering words to Gavin that are lost in the clamor that has suddenly risen up in the room. Geoff is cursing and throwing himself into a chair, his threats of firing people hanging loosely and familiar in the room as Ray jumps up and has a small freak session, claiming loudly that he's going to have to re-evaluate each time he's left Gavin and Michael alone together. But there's a smile at the end and when Ray looks at him, Michael feels his body slowly start coming to life again.

Time is a blur. His heart is on fire.

But there's a soft hand in his, and he's so focused on the smile gracing Gavin's face as Ray and Geoff grin at him and offer kind words, happy words, that it takes so long for Michael to realize she's leading him out of the door. Suddenly she's there, against him in the sunlight of the morning, and there’s so many words he wants to say in the silence of the air, but he just catches her smile and tries to return it, shifting through the shock and the realization.

"Hey, don’t look so sad," she smiles, and it’s a bit forced, as it will be for a while, but the love is there, and Michael nearly loses it. Her hair shines in the sun as she speaks, running her thumb across his hand. "There’s not too many chances for a love like that."

"Lindsay," he tries, because he feels like he should. His voice is cracked, his body is still shaken. "I’ve always known, I shouldn’t have—"

"Nah," she stops, waving him off. "It’s not just you that knew. He was there first, really. It was me that shouldn’t have tried to take you away. Should have known my boundaries." And with a smile, she adds, "It was a bit painfully obvious."

"Was not."

"Says the guy who’s been hooking up with a dude for a year," she laughs, and it still stings a bit, just a bit, and he grabs her hand, thinking that it was too easy for him, and it can’t be this easy for her.

But before he can get his next apology out, the door opens and Gavin is there, smiling softly, a welcome sight for Michael. And in that moment, when Gavin approaches him and slides his arm around Michael’s waist, no hiding, no secrets, Michael feels like he can breathe for the very first time, and the world is that much brighter. The warmth he feels is like one he’s never known, and the pressure of Gavin’s body leaning into his is something he knows he’d never trade, no matter the cost.

Lindsay smiles at Gavin, and Michael can see the adoration in his eyes, his thankfulness, and he has no clue how either found the strength to do what they just did, for him.

"Don’t worry love," Gavin starts, and Michael feels like hitting him already. "We’ll make it up to you. Hook you up with Dan, maybe."

And Lindsay, despite herself, laughs. “No thanks, but I wouldn’t say no to a British guy, apparently there’s something about them that makes people go crazy.”

She’s smiling at Michael and he feels so nervous, so taboo and shaky still, but her eyes calm him enough to where he finally finds the words to speak.

"How about a cat? I never did let you get a damn cat."

He feels Gavin’s fingers curl around his as she grins, and he feels like he could fly.

                                                     ---

Gavin pressed Michael against the wall of the bathroom stall, lips meeting skin for the first time in what felt like weeks. They had only a few minutes, but after so many months, they had timing and discretion down to an art. It was hot and heavy, rushed and focused, but fueled by a fiery passion unrealized by their public relationships.

And they emerged six minutes later, disappearing into separate sections of the crowd with reddened lips and shaking limbs. No one ever noticed anything. Michael was always drunk anyway.

                                                     ---

It was funny, really, the way people think. They assume romance is pivotal, it's defining and the movement it creates is a soul-stirring symphony of true love realized, especially in Michael and Gavin's case. In reality, though it was the result of a calamity meeting a savior, though neither one of them would admit to being either one. It was a realization, an act of aggression, and a satisfying conclusion; it was lustful tension, resolved by a shameless night of furious sex in a pre-flight hotel, and concluded with a friendly, "thank you ma'am."

They were men, after all, and the only reason they bothered with romance was to remind a lady of their appreciation, and hopefully get something in return. That didn't need to be the case here. It was a generic one-night stand, a quick escape to get the pestering attraction to each other off of their minds so they could focus on their real relationships.

Only this time the pestering hadn't vanished. The attraction was there, intensified, and they kept a tight, secure hold on the weekly romps they maneuvered through the eyes and ears of friends and the public, so sure in their ability to fuck the relentless need out of each other until it faded, and they could move on.

                                                    ---

It had been going well for months. They never asked anything of each other, never expected anything, never even came to terms with the severity of their actions. Michael was getting married in less than a year, and Gavin had been doing well with Meg, really well, honestly, but they never considered it cheating. Not really. It was always drunk at the beginning, and if they tried hard enough, they could wash away any small slips of guilt by simply pretending the memory didn't exist.

Until one day Michael had taken their daily bromance a bit too far, playful touches on Gavin lingering a bit too heavy, whispered words a bit too sexual, and Gavin cornered him in an old back office, blind fucking sober.

And then it became less of a weekly drunken mistake fueled by mindless lust, and more of a weekly heavy fuck, fueled by relentless desire and viscous need.

They thought themselves coy. They watched their steps and were exceedingly careful, secure in their belief that no one could catch even the most vague of hints.

But Lindsay had always been smarter than Michael anyway.

                                                     ---

It had been small things, really. Little oddities that caught her attention, but never her curiosity. Michael would offer to take Gavin home, and a small twenty minute trip would cost Lindsay over an hour of missing Michael's presence. But she thought maybe they had detoured, stopped for food, got caught up talking to Geoff and Griffon. Anything, really. Anything but Michael leaning Gavin over the backseat of the car.

That thought, of course, never occurred to her until the disappearance would render Michael rather distant, a dreamy coating over his eyes and his mind a bit fuzzy, a commonplace thing Lindsay would attribute to the alcohol. Just alcohol.

But the real thing, the thing that spurred her mind into overdrive and her heart into her throat were the signs of a diminishing romance between them. His touches were losing their heat, his glances at her lost their simmering of desire, and her name felt a little more practiced, a little more amplified, like it hadn't quiet been what he was looking for, and caught himself at the last moment.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Michael glanced over his phone and met her eyes. They gave away no fear, no confusion, no curiosity or feigned calm. It was still very much Michael, and either he was incredibly poised for that particular question, or she was losing her mind.

"No, why?"

She bit her lip, shook her head, and smiled.

"Nothing."

But it lingered in the back of her mind, nagging, biting at her to pursue it.

                                                      ---

They were out for drinks, as per usual, with Michael squished between Lindsay and Gavin in a small favorited table. Jordan, Miles, and Barbara were seated opposite, and Miles had to keep brushing back Barbara's hair from his shoulder while she apologized and muttered furiously about the humidity. Michael has his arm curled around Lindsay's waist and was urging Gavin on as he attempted to stack the hot sauce bottles on top of each other.

It was all normal.

Miles suggested a round of hurricanes, which was enthusiastically approved, and an hour later their small group had become considerably louder, with not only the hurricane glasses but several empty shots spread out on the table in front of them. Barbara was looking a bit dazed and kept trying to lean over Miles to fix a button on Jordan's shirt, while Jordan was trying to convince them all to go outside and try and round of knife foot.

"No, dude, that's fucking stupid, even if we were talented enough to point the knife the right way," Michael laughed, chewing on a bit of lime.

"What if I dare you though?" Jordan grinned. "You can't turn down a dare, it's like a commandment or something."

"Fuck yeah I can," Michael countered, and Lindsay laughed.

"What's the dumbest thing you've ever done for a dare?" Gavin interrupted, that blissfully innocent and curious side of Gavin stepping up, badgering people with awkward questions or ludicrous statements.

"I licked a Lamborghini once," Barbara replied quickly, and all eyes turned towards her.

"Like in that old commercial, where the guy licks the car in the sales lot before someone else can buy it?" Lindsay asked.

"No, like, my friend and I were hanging out and one pulled up outside of a restaurant. He dared me to lick it and took a photo of it."

They all paused, and Gavin snickered.

"You realize that he probably used that as wanking material, right?" Barbara's face fell, and she was so crestfallen as the realization struck her that it was all they could do to laugh at her enlightenment. Barbara pouted, muttered "dicks," and hid her face by taking a long sip of water.

"What about you, Michael?"

Michael looked thoughtful for a moment, biting his bottom lip distractedly, before smiling. "Oh, fuck I had forgotten about this, I kissed a dude when I was like 19 for a dare."

They all collectively groaned.

"That's fucking boring."

"More boring than licking a fucking car?!"

"Give it up, Michael, we all know you've kissed more dudes than that," Gavin countered, taking a quick drink of his beer. There was a collective catcall among the table, a reaction worthy of Maury as Barbara, Miles, and Jordan immediately erupted, but Lindsay was watching Michael closely. Something in the way that Gavin's eyes had sparked when he spoke, and the way Michael's hand had immediately twitched, a faint restraint and a quick resolve, caught Lindsay's attention.

It was fast, and if she hadn't been looking so closely she would have missed it. Gavin shot Michael another minuscule look, a mischievous fire behind his pupils, a glance that held so many words that Lindsay couldn't understand. But when Michael turned away and tried to hide the grin on the edges of his face behind his bottle, Lindsay knew he had understood everything.

She felt the first twinges of fear circle her stomach.

                                                         ---

"I think Lindsay knows something is up."

Gavin looked up at him. They were outside at the pool, legs dangled over the edge with beers in their hands. Michael had been meaning to bring this up to him for a few days, but it felt a bit foreign, a bit taboo. Neither one of them liked to acknowledge that what they were doing was wrong enough to be labeled as suspicious, let alone an act that would could potentially destroy their relationships.

"Why? Did she say something?"

"She asked me if there was anything I wanted to tell her. And she's been watching me recently. Like, looking for something. Getting more into my business than usual."

Gavin snorted, and it felt a bit coldhearted, a tad bitter, but Michael just kicked his feet gently in the water, trying to figure how he was supposed to unwind himself. If he ever could.

"Should we..." Gavin began, and for once, he looked a bit unsettled. "Do you want to stop?"

"No."

And Michael felt guilt bubble through him at his immediate response, but he pushed it down. "I mean, we're not really doing anything wrong, right? Lindsay -- and Meg, yeah -- they know how we are."

Gavin shifted, his skin glistening against the water, and Michael felt a hot rush knowing that he'd have that skin pressed against him tonight. It was almost enough to bowl over how badly the strings of his heart were being pulled inside of him.

"If it's not a big deal, why don't we just tell them," Gavin asked, quiet.

But as soft and as curious as Gavin's voice was, they both knew it wasn't a question. Michael drained the last of his beer.

                                                       ---

Their meetings began to get harder to plan. It wasn't easy for Michael to just say he'd be at Gavin's, as it usually meant a day or two of outwardly unfounded bitterness on Lindsay's part, something they both acknowledged but refused to bring to light. As suspicious as Lindsay was, she hadn't anything to go on other than her gut, and a simple text message from Gavin three weeks ago that said only "10:00, my place."

She had felt guilty snooping through Michael's phone, but there was a disheartening justification when Michael came back at midnight that night, scratch marks littering his back that she knew she hadn't done.

So when Lindsay decided to take a night out with Barbara, Michael wasted no time in picking up Gavin.

They were barely through the doorway when lips met, Gavin pulling Michael against him with a desperate need as his hands tangled in Michael's hair. The wait had been almost physically painful, with nearly a month residing between then and their last session, and they both could feel the fire on their skin. Michael had barely time to lock the door behind them before Gavin forcibly removed his shirt, running his fingers across every inch of Michael he could reach, and Michael melted, his tongue sliding across Gavin's in a constant give-and-take battle for dominance.

The air was hot around them as they moved against each other, fingernails dug deep and hands clenching fabric. Finally, as Michael took the skin of Gavin's neck roughly between his lips, Gavin let out a soft groan.

"Fuck, baby, I've missed you."

And suddenly, Michael felt alive.

                                                      ---

But again, Lindsay was always smarter than Michael. And when she approaches him the next morning, pajama pants slack and coffee in her hand, the last thing Michael expected to hear was --

"I know you've been fucking Gavin."

And for once, Michael's struck dead. He's staring up at her, his own coffee feeling heavy and warm in his hands, a weight that so suddenly mirrors the weight in his heart.

"I know you brought him over last night. I guess I came back too early, and the bedroom seemed occupied."

"Linds--"

And Michael is terrified, because everything was falling apart and he feels it, little bits of his picture perfect life crumbling, pieces tearing apart slowly from the outside in, falling into the same black abyss that would consume him when he'd think about life without either of them.

But Lindsay stops him again.

"I get it, alright? It's probably something stupid that went too far. I know how you guys are. Just do me a favor, and stop it. No more, Michael."

And Michael is breathless, a soft, "Yeah...okay..." being ripped out of him before he has time to realize what happened. And Lindsay is gone, leaving Michael in the kitchen with nothing but a racing heart and a buzzing mind.

Because while he knows he should be on hands and knees in front of Lindsay, thanking her, cherishing her, a small part of his mind that was deeply embedded around the sound of Gavin's voice and the feel of his skin knew that it wasn't exactly the reaction he had been hoping for.

And within that deep excess of his mind, he felt the prickling of disappointment.

                                                   ---

But they stopped. Michael sent Gavin a simple text that read only "She found out. No more." and Gavin had replied only with "K," which, given Gavin's exemplary vocabulary, one word meant he was either irritated or upset.

Michael understood. He was feeling both himself.

                                                    ---

Three months passed and the tension would grow and dissipate, leading for more rage from Michael that carved Gavin down to his fail-safe of stupidity whenever he felt slightly inadequate. Which proved to be happening more often than usual.

He was weaker than Michael, and within the first few weeks he had tried to corner Michael in the kitchen, eyes pleading and hands shaking. Micheal had torn himself away, trying to ignore the crashing of his logic and his body, both trying in vain to overpower the other and leaving Michael with nothing but cold words and a heavy attitude.

Gavin took a different approach and managed to sneak in text messages that were nothing but tidbits of reminders of what they had.

"Remember the House of Blues in LA?"

Yes, he remembered. Large amounts of whiskey had led to their first kiss, heavy and desperate. He tried not to think about it too often, in case his jeans became too tight.

"Remember when I busted my shoulder?"

Gavin had insisted Michael kiss his shoulder after he scraped it against the stucco outside of the building. Michael had called him a variety of names before finally leaning in and pressing his lips against the scrape. Gavin had laughed at the resulting redness on his cheeks so hard Michael pushed him into a wall.

"I miss you, Michael."

Michael would toss his phone against the couch irritably after these messages. He didn't have a response, couldn't think of a single thing to say to relieve Gavin's heartache. He didn't bother to try regardless, as Gavin was only intensifying his.

                                                      ---

"Gavin broke up with Meg."

Lindsay was staring at Michael, waiting for his reaction. Inside, Michael was already cursing Gavin, because in all of his stupidity, the dumbest thing he could ever do was to end the one relationship that actually held promise.

But outside, Michael was calm.

"That sucks. It looked to be going good. Is she okay?"

Lindsay seemed to accept the answer, and nodded sadly, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, she's alright. Bit disappointed, but she said it was hard to keep it going as it was, long distance and everything."

Michael nodded, trying to keep his composure and he stared at his game. Focused on it. Kept his expression blank and his eyes trained.

"Do you know why he did it?"

Lindsay wasn't backing down, and Michael looked her directly in the eyes, hoping and praying she couldn't read the anger and disappointment in them. That she couldn't read the tiny glisten of hope he was desperately trying to hide, even from himself.

"I have no idea."

And it wasn't the answer she wanted, but Michael was done giving her the upper-hand. He had held his promise, and he didn't deserve the skepticism, not anymore. But they both knew why Gavin was suddenly single, and as soon as Lindsay had left the room, Michael was furiously tapping on his phone.

"What the fuck are you thinking?"

The reply was immediate.

"I'm tired of lying to her. She knows there's someone else."

Michael cursed, wrote "Gavin you stupid fuck," and turned his phone off.

                                                    ---

Michael began to cherish the moments at work, free to engage Gavin in conversation without feeling like he was being monitored, like he was committing a sin to even make eye contact with the person who he was glad to call his best friend, even after they had stopped getting off to the feeling of the other person inside them.

At work, he could sit next to Gavin and feel content, feel whole, and even thought there was no promise of contact other than the slight nudge of arms or, if Gavin was feeling brave, the heavy weight of Gavin's head on his shoulder, Michael was happy. He was at peace.

But the longing wasn't easily ignored, and Gavin was twitching uncontrollably in Michael's presence, stretching the boundaries of what was appropriate, inclining his behavior everyday, testing the waters until Michael would shoot him back down.

Michael was strong. He was stone under Gavin's touches, never letting them linger long enough to melt him, resisting the urge to touch Gavin at any opportunity, letting the longing, penetrating need go through and out of him as he tried so hard to be good.

But when they were all crowded around Ray's desk, watching a video Ray had assured them would be worth their time, and Gavin gently pressed himself into Michael's back under the pretense of getting a closer look, Michael let his defenses fall. He missed it so much. And it took only seconds before Gavin's hand was snaking around to the front of Michael's jeans, hidden under the baggy Nintendo sweater, and applying gentle pressure to the hardness he found there.

Michael's eyes fluttered closed, and despite his coworkers around him, he let Gavin continue, his movements unnoticeable beneath the fabric as he worked at Michael until his jeans were tight and it took every inch of restraint not to buck into Gavin's hand. Michael's brain was on fire. He tried to convince himself he still had control, but when Gavin's hand reached up and began to teasingly undo his belt, his willpower spiraled out of control, and everything broke loose.

He doesn't remember the reaction in the room as he pulled Gavin's hand away and led him towards the door, his mind focused and buzzing with a desire so prominent he could barely remember how to turn the handle.

He found the first room he could, a supply closet they reserved for unused monitors and hardware, and drug Gavin inside, slamming his body against the door and smashing their lips together. He felt Gavin melt underneath him, his body going limp for two, three seconds before he kissed back, his ferocity trying to match Michael's, trying to meet him halfway, but he was drowned out as Michael pinned him down by his wrists, swallowing Gavin's moan.

"Gavin, you fuck," he whispered, moving slightly to hold Gavin's wrists with one hand of his own, using the other to shakily undo Gavin's pants. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? Do you have any idea how hard it is to fucking resist you?"

Gavin leaned forward and captured his lips, and it was hot and heavy and passionate, but for the first time, it lingered. And when Gavin pulled away, it was soft, and Michael felt his body go numb for reasons unrelated to the hardness in his jeans. Gavin's soft hair was mussed over his face, and he was still panting slightly, cheeks red and eyes wide with arousal.

"Then don't resist anymore."

And Michael complied. But this time, instead of nails digging into skin, there were soft touches, lost amongst the thick air around them as they moved against each other, whispered words of endearment that neither one of them wanted to forget. Lips met, and it was gentle, passionate, and when Michael was finally spent and fell against Gavin, the wall beneath them cooling and blissful, the way Gavin looked at him wasn't so far off from his own pounding heart.

He was in love.

                                                 ---