#post 56

“I’d like to offer my services,” he said. “Any chance to take a whack at the Empire, I’m for it.”

“We could use your help,” Toma said. “Raina, can you find our friend a ship?”

“Ferus…” Obi-Wan said, but he didn’t know how to finish the thought. He couldn’t forbid Ferus to go. That wasn’t his place. Ferus wasn’t his Padawan.

Amanda is so done with Connor

Lmao this looks so silly!

I actually wrote a fanfic for this game, wow!

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms:

Grand Theft Auto V

Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games)

Relationships:

Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips

Michael De Santa & Trevor Philips

Characters:

Michael De Santa

Trevor Philips

Additional Tags:

Fight Scene

POV Michael

One Shot

Fix-It of Sorts

Homoerotic Implications

Bury The Hatchet (Grand Theft Auto)

I Wanted Them to Kiss but Unfortunately They Didn't

My First Work in This Fandom

Words:1,630

Buried Inside by KissOfLightning (AKA GunsOfFire)

Summary:

What if the Chinese took a little longer to reach Trevor & Michael in North Yankton? Alternatively, what was going on in Michael's head?

Work Text:

As Michael rushed through the streets of Ludendorff, his heart felt as if it were trying to leap out of his chest. A part of him knew this moment would come, and he dreaded it. Or perhaps, he anticipated it. Was he here because he really thought he could stop Trevor? Or did he want to see him find out? Maybe a part of him was yearning for this moment.

Michael lowered a window for fresh air to ease the anxiety; it was as cold as he remembered it. The moon illuminated brightly over the fields and streets covered in snow. As he continued to drive, memories of the deal flashed in his mind. His soul ached with regret.

Did he regret what he did? How could he not? But he did what he needed to do to protect himself and his family. There was no other choice. That’s what he kept telling himself. The guilt only managed to set in when Trevor walked back into his life. The man was deranged, an asshole, and would murder without a second thought. Michael was a murderer too, but at least he felt guilty about it.

What’s done is done. It doesn’t matter how guilty I feel about it; it doesn’t change anything.

Michael parked outside the cemetery, and darted towards his own grave. ‘His grave.’ In reality, it was really Brad’s grave. Trevor was already there, digging it out.

Michael held onto hope; the only potential way out of this was to play it cool. “You’re wasting your time.” He spoke to him.

“Oh yeah?” Trevor retorted with fury in his tone. “Is that why you flew all the way down here? Huh? To tell me I’m wasting my time?”

Maybe I can discourage him by pretending I don’t care about it.

“Go ahead. Dig it up. I don’t give a shit.” Michael lied.

“Yeah, that’s what you look like. A guy who doesn’t give a shit.”

Michael waved his hand in dismissal and pretended to start walking away. “Ah, this is ridiculous.”

“How long are you going to keep lying for Mikey, huh? When’s it going to stop?” Trevor pressed.

Michael’s blood ran cold. He turned back to Trevor, listening to him.

“What happens in the dark, comes out in the light.” A wide smile of determination formed on Trevor’s face, as if he knew he was going to find exactly what he was looking for. And he was.

Michael’s heart clenched in dread.

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

“Give it a rest Trevor.” He managed to say calmly. “There’s nothing there!”

Trevor’s shovel clunked against the coffin. “This is it.” He stopped for a breath. “Moment of truth.” Trevor gave Michael one last look in the eyes, as if he were giving him one last chance to finally talk.

Michael shifted his head and shrugged. He shifted to investigate the hole as Trevor did, feeling extreme nausea.

And there it was. “UGGH! As if I didn’t know.” Trevor cried out as he gestured to the corpse. “Brad.”

“Look, we gotta do what we gotta do to survive.” Michael justified. “This thing, it didn’t work out the way it was supposed to.”

“Oh, and how was that?” Trevor’s voice escalated. “With Brad in the can and me in the ground? Or-or-or both of us in the coffin?”

“Brad got shot. You saw it! He didn’t make it. I got shot, I did. That, that’s it!” Michael protested.

Trevor sat himself up out of the ditch he dug. “I think the only thing that didn’t go as planned was me showing up on your doorstep ten years later.” He shifted from squat to full standing. “Mikey.” Pointing at him, “I mourned you.”

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