#rtvengers

i’m tired of just talking; i want to get a move underway. i’m putting my thought in. i want to give all my worries away, because they’re still in my pocket. i want to empty my calendar days. let the feeling just spark it. starting to change, being less guarded and act like i’ve got it. i’m putting my heart in just to give it away. we’re trying our hardest.  where would it go? no points to making plans, the wild life is human nature.

“Okay, whatever,” Geoff says loudly, sensing he’s not being paid attention. “Michael or Mogar or whatever. This is my wife, Griffon Ramsey. I’m Geoff, as you know. This is... our adopted European twink, Gavin Ramsey-Free.”

Gavin sticks his tongue out at his introduction before returning to his unlocking. 

“So,” Griffon says, her appropriately talon-sharp gaze settling back on Michael. “Are you staying for dinner?”

There’s an indignant squawk from Gavin. “What? Wha-- he almost killed Geoff!”

“I’m pretty sure Geoff almost killed Geoff when he fucked off in a prototype full-body prosthesis,” she replies tartly. Despite the fire in her words, the smile she gives Michael is kind. “What do you say to pork tenderloin?”

Michael looks between the three of them, taking in the mix of curiosity and hostility aimed at him, and decides pork tenderloin sounds pretty excellent, actually. 

disparate youth – santigold so let them say we won't do better, lay out the rules that we can't break. they wanna sit and watch you wither. their legacy's too hard to take. we said our dreams will carry us, and if they don’t fly, we will run. now we push right past to find out how to win what they all lost. 

Project Iron Man, created and operated by Ramsey Enterprises, the report says, and Ryan skims through the reading: a moderately successful contractor and its masterpiece, the technology that propelled them into fame and fortune, the fierce legal battles with the government over the intellectual property. In between the lines is the story of a small family being thrust into the limelight and how they survived.

Ryan likes them already, maybe even more for the bit at the end: Despite repeated attempts at establishing contact with the Ramseys, no meeting has been successfully scheduled. It’s not recommended that agents circumvent the secretarial staff (see Agent Hullum’s arrest report for details).

stuck on you – new politics put a spell on me, walk away from me. it's called irony. got me hypnotized. i am paralyzed; i lost my sanity. you are my lover, are my friend. it don't matter what you think, you are my one and only desire. it's gonna stay like that till the end. what did i do to get my mind stuck on you?

He’s worried about it, Michael can see. He’s known Gavin a while, knows that he plays things aloof whenever he can, avoiding any hint that things sink in with him, that they bother him at all. It’s harder to do that with your arm in a sling and with the promise of darker skies coming soon.

Michael doesn’t like him this way, his face tight and worried as he tries to pretend he’s fine. That’s why Michael reaches around his own neck and pulls out a long chain with a pendant at the end. It’s a reminder of why he’s here, of what he did to be banished, and of why he now has to be better.

He leans in and says, “Hold still,” before putting it around Gavin’s neck.

Gavin looks at the pendant, a glittering piece of translucent material flushed with every color of the rainbow. “What’s this then?”

Michael gets up and takes a few steps away. “It’s-- something of mine from home. If you’re in trouble, I can find you with that. Just keep it on you.”

Gavin looks between Michael and the necklace a few times. “It’s pretty. You sure you want to give this to me? I, uh. Lose things.”

Michael chuckles. “It’s something I can always find, no matter what.” When Gavin continues to look worried, he goes on, “Gav. If you lose it, I can find it.”

bully – shinedown we don’t have to take this. we could end it all. all you’ll ever be is a faded memory of a bully. make another joke while they hang another rope, so lonely. push him to the dirt ‘til the words don’t hurt. can you hear me? no ones gonna cry on the very day you die. you’re a bully.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sorola groans. “You have been complaining about BYTE not taking the Narvaroth threat seriously for weeks now and now we are, so fucking loan us Gavin to get people outfitted. We’ll have him back as soon as we can.”

Geoff doesn’t really have the right features for pulling bitchface at people, something about how his perpetually-sleepy expression ruins it, but that doesn’t stop him from trying, glaring at Sorola with a curled lip and bared teeth. “You know, Gus, maybe I’d believe that if--”

Sorola cuts him off with a heavy eye roll. “Jesus Christ, I am sorry about fucking borrowing him--”

“Kidnapping,” Geoff corrects instantly. “Kid. Napping.” 

He just yells louder, drowning out Geoff. “But if you hadn’t blown us off forty fucking times and taken a single goddamn meeting, we wouldn’t have had to do that!” 

Pushing back his chair, Geoff gets up and picks up his briefcase, so tired of this fight he and Sorola have had so many times. “I will ask him if he’s interested.” He jabs a finger at Sorola, then the other BYTE agents at the table. “If any of you make an attempt on him again, you are going to get acquainted with how much hurt we’ve got with your fucking names on it.” He steps back, to the door behind him. “And that includes my wife with a fucking laser cutter, so watch your goddamn step.” And then he’s gone, out the door and down the boring taupe walled hallways of BYTE HQ. 

everybody’s watching me (uh oh) – the neighbourhood i go through all the trouble of keeping it within my walls. i try to be as subtle as i can. assume that nothing needs me, all i've done defeats me. it looks like you were right again. uh oh, where can i go? everybody’s watching me.

Jesus Christ. If Geoff were more of a romantic, it’d be sweet how the thought of Gavin turned Michael into such a sixteen year old high schooler. Mostly, Geoff just doesn’t want to deal with it. It’s bad enough that Geoff is fairly sure Gavin is unknowingly walking around with an alien promise ring around his neck. Being the messenger of their weird long-distance not-relationship is too much. 

“You know, you could stop bye and say hi sometime,” Geoff says. “Crash for a night.” 

Michael bristles. “Did you not listen? The guy attacks where I am, and you want me to go hang around your family?” He shook his head. “No fucking way. You and me, that’s easy to pass off as a BYTE thing. The second I’m seen with your family, they become a target. I won’t do that to them." 

“We can take care of ourselves.” They may not all be displaced godlings, but Geoff is fairly sure they have enough firepower in their little ranch house to cause an international incident. Certainly enough to have a guest over.

But to Geoff’s utter lack of surprise, Michael disagrees. “No. I won’t risk-- it.” He turns away and reached out a hand. The hammer hums and returns itself to his grasp, and Michael lashes it to his belt. “I gotta go. I’ll call you for the next one.”

casual affair – panic! at the disco looks innocent enough, doesn't it? but sometimes there are dangers involved that never meet the eye. no matter where you meet a stranger, be careful if they are too friendly. break involuntary ties, a secret so the spies could never find us out. stay for as long as you have time, so the mess that we'll become leaves something to talk about.

Opening his arms wide, he tries to encompass all of himself: the miles of unruly limbs, the lack of coordination, the nose that was just waiting for a fist. “No amount of engineering can fix this.”

The smile Ray gives him is deeply kind and sympathetic, but makes Gavin feels a bit like a kitten that hasn’t managed the art of walking yet. “Gav.”

“Don’t Gav me,” Gavin mutters, hopping off the table. He takes the gloves to the workbench set up in the corner. No reason not to work on them right away.

He fails to not be irritated when Ray trails after him. As his shoulders scrunch and his head drops low, treating his lab coat like a turtle shell, he huffs out a sigh. Ray just puts his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “Gav,” he repeats, softer. “Listen, if you’re serious and not interested-- that’s cool. That’s totally fine. But,” his hand squeezes. “If you’re saying no ‘cause you’re scared or nervous, I want you to know... I got your back. I believe in you. Okay?”

The heat of his body behind Gavin seeps in, and the tension in Gavin’s shoulders melts away like an ice cube in the sun. It’s... a very nice thought, and something he’s not used to. From Geoff and Griffon, sure, it’s a given he’s got them in his corner. But everyone else is a mystery. 

bravado – lorde i'm faking glory. lick my lips, toss my hair, and turn the smile on, and the story's brand-new. but i can take it from here; i'll find my own bravado. i was frightened of every little thing that i thought was out to get me down, to trip me up, and laugh at me, but i learned not to want the quiet of the room with no one around to find me out. i want the applause, the approval, the things that make me go oh.

Ray’s in the lab when he gets his summons and looks to Gavin, smiling. “Well. Time to suit up then?”

Gavin’s heart stops. He doesn’t think-- the Vav armor is ready, no doubt, and he’s been in it a few times now to become accustomed to it, but to him it’s so far off from ready, putting it in a live fire situation seems mad as cats.

But Ray is a shining source of optimism and looks at Gavin like he really believes it when he says the design is amazing and genius and whatever. Looking into his green eyes makes Gavin feel like he can do this. Maybe it’s not just a pipedream.

“Yeah,” Gavin says quietly, and watches as Ray leaves to suit up himself. 

The Vav armor’s become easy to put on, though it’s still in the same early stage that Geoff’s suit had been, when tools are needed to interlock the seams and seal it. Gavin’s an old hand at manual shit like that though and is armored up in three minutes.

One thing he flat-out lifted from the Iron Man suit is the repulsor tech. He can’t run it for long without an arc reactor, but it’s enough that he can push open the window and lean out. He feels very heavy very suddenly and his heart thumps in his ears, too fast. He’s about the chicken out, to take off this ridiculous thing and go hide in his closet and hyperventilate.

mind over matter – young the giant and if the world don’t break, ill be shaking it ‘cause i’m a young man after all. and when the seasons change, will you stand by me? ‘cause i’m a young man built to fall. taste my disaster, it’s heavy on my tongue. mind over matter, you know you’re on my mind.

“You can come out with m—us.” He winces at his own stutter, the slip of the tongue. “When we’re around." 

He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but Gavin manages to curl in closer to him. It’s a feat of geometry, how his limbs bend like that. “If… if I’ve learned anything in the past week, it’s that I’m best off in the labs.”

He’s simply too close to turn his head and stare incredulously at Gavin. “What makes you say that?”

“Can we get down? It’s cold up here.”

speed the collapse – metric all the way from where we came, built a mansion in a day. distant lightning, thunder claps. we auctioned off our memories in the absence of a breeze. scatter what remains. pushed away, i’m pulled toward. a comedown of revolving doors; every warning we ignored, drifting in from distant shores. fate don’t fail me now.

“And what,” Mogar says, low and deadly, “is the greater good here?" 

This. This is why Narvaroth was always the brains of their duo. He jumps to his feet and gestures to them both. “We are! Look around, Mogar, and tell me this is where we belong, I fucking dare you! You and I are bigger than this place can handle!”

“Speak for yourself!”

“Oh, riiiiight!” He can’t help but laugh openly at Mogar now.

“Because you’re Michaelnow. You were going to let this place collar Mogar the Feared, so-- what? You could settle down with your little mortal pet? Build a house by the beach, retire, get a dog?” He scoffs. “Give me a fucking break. Besides, that plan’s fucked now, huh?” 

ghost - sir sly you flew out on a plane and crashed into the ocean and then you haunted me. don't have a clue what's in motion, so every now and then it feels so soothing when you float on a bit and move right through me. get up, save face. find you way back to the grave. you'll never find your way back home; you're a ghost. 

“The thing is,” Gavin says as he winds down. “The stupid thing is... He was Ray with me. And it’s like... I know, in hindsight, what he was doing. But I still feel like I-- I botched it all up.”

“Yeah, that’s going around, I think.”

“And I sort of miss him, is the weird thing. Ray, I mean. It’s like... Do you remember Bioshock? And the big twist at the end?”

“The Randian with the golf club.”

“No, the Irish bloke who wasn’t Irish.” He lifts his head, like he needs to confirm she’s following along. “Even after he wasn’t the Irish bloke anymore, I missed him. It’s like that. Does that make sense?”

Thankfully she remembers watching Geoff play that game, tucked up with Gavin on the sofa behind Geoff as he sat on the floor. It was cozy and familial, and throughout their years together, those are the moments that stand out for her. “You miss Ray.”

“It’s like Narvaroth killed him, and I’m mad about it."

reunion – the xx there’s an end to us with someone else inside. you shine your light. there goes that feeling, won’t let me see them never, not ever again. did i see you see me, in a new light? reunion, never not ever again.

Being alone with Gavin is another experiment in restraint. Especially when Michael tries to explain and Gavin doesn’t seem to get it. Or he doesn’t care. And the thought that Gavin would trust him again like he hadn’t fucked it all up terrifies him.

“Stop, Gavin, I thought you were--” Gone. Dead and killed to be used as a fucking tool against Michael, dead because Michael wasn’t fast enough after he’d fucking promised. “And I fucking lost it.”

Gavin touches him, light, his hand against Michael’s. It’s another reminder that he’s there, Michael could just grab him and pull him in tight and never let him go and keep him safe. Michael jerks away, breathing hard, tries to explain again: “I don’t want to be that guy anymore. And for a second I was.”

the epilogue – crosses in a strange place, when the sun goes down we move into a strange phase, like we’ve got nothing left to lose. get set, it’s time we come to the end. we’ve circled around our doom. i won’t stop, not ‘til i get what i want and all that i want is you.

“I’ll do it better next time." 

He’s so close, he can’t just step away again. He maps the skin of Gavin’s neck with the pads of his fingers, feels the steady beat of his heart, and shakes as he takes his jaw in his hands. He’s as gentle as he can manage and it doesn’t feel like enough still. “Gavin,” he breathes, wanting to apologize.

Gavin leans in, his own hands wrapping around Michael’s wrists, holding him there. “I’m here,” he says. “I’m right here.”

Michael chokes; he feels it like a sword being driven through his chest and into Mogar’s heart. The core of him, that angry howling thing that deep down always longs to drive lightning into everything he can, just to see how it lights up, goes quiet for the first time in his life. Kissing Gavin, just an overly cautious brush of lips, settles him deep in his own body. He feels it all so vividly and a moan catches in his throat as he presses in, his hands cradling Gavin’s face.

Gavin draws away and looks down at himself. Through his shirt, the pendant’s lighting up like a beacon. “Um.”

“Sorry,” Michael mutters. “I’m a little... intent right now. On you.”

Gavin is sometimes taken off guard by the whole thing, though. There are certain times when Michael’s lamplight doe eyes make sense. Long nights spent travelling under the stars or with the ocean rushing by under them or after sex, those are the times Gavin is ready for.

This time, though, Gavin’s spent all day installing his blue light suite into the space that is going to become their new living room. He’s been dusty and sweating the entire afternoon because the air con man still hasn’t gotten their home set up yet. When he’s done and the design suite powers up and everything works, Gavin lays down on the quartz glass he’s laid into the floor, aware he’s going to have to just clean the whole thing up again the second he gets up lest he damage the suite.

But it’s hot and he’s tired and there is sweat beading along his brow in the humid heat of the day. It is just barely cooler down on the floor, since hot air rises and cold air sinks and physics and all that.

“Are you done?” Michael asks from the doorway. “Can I finally come in?”

Over the years, Michael has gotten very, very good at not breaking delicate human technology. Still, Gavin had kicked him out of the room whil ehe was setting things up, unwilling to have anything break. The shipping time from Austin to their new house in in Washington isn’t too terrible but it feels like it when you’re trying to finish building a home.

Gavin waves a hand through the air. “Bring me a drink and you may enter.”

“A drink or a drink?”

“Something cold. With ice.” Ice sounds amazing.

Michael, dutiful as ever, leaves towards the kitchen and returns with a tall glass and a closed, dripping fist. He kneels next to Gavin on the glass tilework and hands Gavin the glass.

Gavin drains it at once. It’s just water, blissfully cold, enough to make his teeth sting, enough he can feel it as it slides down into his belly. It’s a strange feeling, but welcome. “No ice?” he complains, because he can.

Michael smiles and holds his fist over Gavin’s skin where his shirt’s rucked up a little. Water drips there from his hand and it’s so cold Gavin squeaks and slaps his hand against the spot it landed before laughing. “You’re so cruel.”

“Am I?” He shifts and holds his hand up over Gavin’s face. Gavin closes his eyes, tipping his head to the side and grinning as ice water lands sporadically against his cheek and temple, darting down the curve of his skin and into his hair, behind his ear, down his jaw. It’s lovely in the heat, and Gavin eventually turns his head the other way for the same treatment.

That’s when he finds Michael’s eyes heavy on him, that endless abyss of flickering amber and melted chocolate pouring onto him. It’s almost too much with the heat and all, but Gavin holds that gaze, trying to avoid so much as blinking as Michael stares at him like it’s still the first day they met, that wide and fathomless look to him.