#vibratingfree

[mogarsmash]

In Bed 'Til The Morning||Gav & Micool

Hot water ran pink down the drain, Michael scrubbing some hair dye from his hair. He couldn’t really give a fuck about how he looked right now. If it all washed out he could just dye it again. Maybe, with a lot of persuasion, he could get Gavin to dye his hair to a darker color. 

The thought sends a pleasant shiver through his body. Black haired Gavin sounded very delectable. It was all he could ask for, but Gavin was even more than he could ever ask for.

Once all the blood had been cleaned from his body Michael stepped out and dressed into a pair of Gavin’s sweatpants, disregarding a shirt or underwear. He wanted to look as smug as possible and internally he preened at all the kills he’d achieved today. The world should be thanking him for relieving it of scum like that. People that would try and take Gav away from those he belonged to... Those were the worst.

Michael stepped back out in the living room, smiling at Gavin as he swept past the souvenirs he’d left, bypassing the kitchen table and going for the fridge. His eyes finally caught up with his mind and Michael slammed the door shut, rattling the bottles of beer inside. 

On the table was a heart, one of Michael’s thinner knives skewering it to the table. The incubus wasn’t affected by the sight of an organ in the wrong place but... Who’s did this belong to? 

The redhead wandered slowly to the muscle, running a still wet finger along its side. 

“Gav, what’s this?” he whispered, pinching one of the arteries poking from the still warm heart..  

[mogarsmash]

Sunday Morning||Gav & Micoo

Michael woke up to the sound of rain tapping a sweet rhythm on his window, groaning as he turned away from the barely there sunlight. Heavy gray clouds were starting to roll in and Michael wanted nothing more than to pull the covers up and stay home from work. 

His only upset is the lack of a second body in the bed, the one he can steal the covers from. Fucking Gavin, just had to get up before he did. The lack of heat made Michael curl further into his bed, turning his bedhead to the direction of the bathroom. The sound of the shower is hidden under the heavy rain pattering against the apartment walls. Michael only groaned and sluggishly peeled the gray blanket off of him. Gavin’s boxers plopped out from a fold and Michael picked them up, chuckling as he remembered last night. Rutting never felt so good. Gavin just always made things better.

“Gavvy?” Michael croaked, grimacing at how ugly his voice sounded. The boxers are discarded in the hamper overflowing from the corner. He wanted to wash the laundry but there was not point: the new clothes had taken over his closet. Eventually Michael would get back to washing the merch shirts and unflattering jeans but that wasn’t today.

Michael pushed the bathroom door open, blinking when he was kissed by fine hot mist. The sight of Gavin in just a towel made him grin and Michael walked behind his boi, wrapping his arms around the other’s hips. Pale against Gavin’s pretty tan... Michael sometimes wanted to get tanner but the shade he was sporting right now wasn’t too bad either. 

“Morning handsome, lookin’ nice,” he murmured and pressed an innocuous kiss against the wet curve of Gavin’s neck. Michael peeled himself off to grab his toothbrush and get the day started. He fiddled with his phone long enough to get it to play a radio station, chuckling when it played some old Maroon 5 song.

[mogarsmash]

I’m Ready to Go||Gavin & Michael

Michael was rearing to do something, his ass could not find a comfortable position in his chair. In all the group Let’s Plays he’d been fidgeting and his friends were complaining about being distracted. 

Then Gavin had taken the time to sit next to Michael and they recorded a stellar Play Pals. Michael managed to sit tight for one whole session, proud of his own self control. However when Gavin stepped away to go record a live action sequence, the ants were back in his pants (actually, they might as well be bees at this point). 

Gavin was going to be Michael’s can of Raid for today hm? There was a pattern going around. First Geoff now Gavin? Maybe they hadn’t banished the Reaper entirely... Either way Michael was only going to relax around Gavin. 

Plus he hadn’t seen his boy since he’d dragged Gus’s sorry bee self back to the offices. It was due time Team Nice Dynamite wreaked absolute havoc. 

Pulling out his phone, Michael sent a text Gavin, inviting him to a little TND lunch date at Mod Pizza. 

[mogarsmash]

[SMS: ain’t nobody fucking w/ my clique]: Turn on the news right fucking now. Weasel News.

[mogarsmash]

TND vs. Bevs & Games

Michael brought a couple of cold beers into the “living room” of his apartment, setting them on the coffee table.

“You ready to get your ass kicked in Halo again?” he asked, smiling to his boi as the redhead fell into the spot next to Gavin. Ever since Geoff’s pipe burst Gavin had been rooming with him, Jack lacking the room for the other half of Plan G. 

Since then Gavin insisted a night be set aside for a game night and Geoff encouraged what he had called a “lads bonding session.” Ray couldn’t make it tonight so it was only Team Nice Dynamite, an XBone, and hours upon hours of drunk gaming.

And probably Gavin being a little shit. 

[mogarsmash]

Michael Jones and the No Good, Very Bad Day

It was one of those days. The days the universe gathered all the shits of the world (little or big) and sent this hellish army your way. It’s the days moods never lift above a mildly irritated and anything can set the dynamite of rage alight.

Michael was experiencing one of those days. This morning he woke up late because his phone was dead, the charger mockingly laying unused. He had thrown the covers off and ran for the shower, almost slipping twice. Michael brushed his teeth in the shower, a girlish shriek resounding in the apartment when the head sprayed water colder than Santa’s fucking ass all over him. It took forever for it to warm to a tolerable temperature, further delaying the redhead. 

None of the clothes his size were washed so a shirt one size too small was thrown on (along with a jacket ‘cause there is no way in hell Michael wanted to be spotted with his nips pushing against his shirt). The charger was roughly removed from its socket, a slew of curses and dark promises filling the air as Michael stuffed it haphazardly into his work bag. His phone was carelessly tossed in as well, completely useless without a functioning battery. 

The door banged open as Michael ran out of the apartment, legs pumping as heavy steps echoed in the hall. Minutes later he ran back, now starting to get honestly frustrated with himself. Wallet and keys retrieved he ran out, taking the time to close and lock the front door. Tenants watched in both awe and surprise as a red bullet shot through the lobby, newspapers fluttering after the hurried man.

Michael was out of breath by the time he got to the bus, chest heaving with exertion. Luckily he had time to catch his breath because the damn bus was late. Public transport, a mode of travel many citizens trusted, was fifteen minutes late, leaving Michael to grow even more irritated. On top of that it was full of other pedestrians who were also pissed off. Michael couldn't find a seat and ended up gripping onto the sweaty handrails, internally cussing up a storm as the Austin heat caught up to his fashion faux pas. The jacket was itchy against skin hot from anger and body heat.

Eventually he made it to the office, storming in with an aura of hostility. He roughly tossed his stuff next to his desk and sat down, grateful none of his co-workers were currently in the office sans possible B Team members but they knew better than to mess with him. Michael booted up his computer and got to work on editing, ignoring the nonfading angry red flush running through his entire face and down his neck.