Favorite
[Mavin]
[He'd say he does haven't a favorite. But he does]
[I like delicate mix of angst and fluff. Sue me]
But he'll think about it. He'll go to bed Tuesday night, alone. Wake up Wednesday morning, alone. He'll think its neither of them.
He'll go drinking Thursday night with Gavin and Geoff. They won't get too fucked up, but he'll still shove the Brit against a brick wall, kiss him until they're both light headed. They'll blame the alcohol for that and Geoff won't believe it but they'll all pretend. He'll think maybe that's it.
But he'll go to sleep alone, and know that it's not.
He'll wake up Friday morning slightly hungover. He'll scream at Gavin for screaming. He'll drink too many red bull and make a damn fool of himself. He'll have lunch with Gavin and issue a half-assed apology for screaming earlier. Gavin will look him in the eye and remind him for the millionth fucking time that it's ok, he understands. He'll look just a second too long so that in case Michael's had a stroke in the last week, he'll remember it means more.
They'll record another let's play and he'll laugh his ass off. Everyone will joke about him and Gavin fucking. His laugh will last a beat longer than it should. Gavin's will fall short.
When he goes to leave, Gavin will catch up to him in the parking lot, ask for a ride.
Sometimes he says yes. When he does, they go to Michael's apartment. When he says no, Gavin laughs it off, says it's fine, he'll catch a ride with Geoff. It still ends too soon.
This week he'll say yes because he still hasn't found a good day. They'll go home and make small talk until Michael breaks and kisses him. They'll stumble upstairs to the bedroom, tripping over steps and shoving each other against the walls. It's a faux fight for control. They both know Michael's calling the shots.
But not really. He'll lose himself in skin and heat and Gavin. He has no actual control anymore, not where he wants it. Not over his mouth, from which Gavin's name will spill so many times he'll lose count in the first five minutes. Not over his hands, which will hold him so tight and close it physically hurts. Not over his mind, which will urge him to pull Gavin closer.
Least of all the fucking feelings inside that will make him pray it never stops. Or the ones the remind him that he doesn't mean sex.
It will end just off of simultaneous, Gavin breaking first. (But that's their whole relationship in a nutshell, isn't it? Gavin just a little bit more invested?)
Friday night will turn into Saturday morning, and Michael will think Friday has to be his favorite.
They'll spend Saturday together, swimming and drinking and not doing much of anything. But they'll act like morons and laugh until they can't breath. This time nothing's too long, nothing's too short.
Gavin will sleep at Michael's again, but they'll actually sleep.
He'll still like Friday more.
They'll wake up on Sunday, but they won't go anywhere. They'll stay in bed, alternating between sex and just holding each other and watching dumb movies on Netflix. They'll talk.
Gavin will giggle a bunch, but so will Michael because he's damn cute. He won't get angry at himself for thinking it this time.
He'll chuck Gavin's boxers across the room then tell him to go put them on because he's too distracting otherwise. Gavin will try but never get them on because Michael will start laughing, will say that's exactly the kind of distraction he's talking about.
He'll pretend to get upset, and Michael will pretend he's serious, but ultimately they'll just settle the debate by having sex.
They'll order Chinese delivery and Michael will fall asleep with Gavin pressed against his chest.
He'll still think it's probably a tie with Friday.
But when he's alone again on Monday, he'll think of Sunday.