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sorcererinthestars · 3 years

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You’ve Got a Fast Car...

I’m back, bitches~~ But seriously, felt great to write again for the @rtwritingcommunity‘s secret sunshine event! I will tag my recipient if/when I get their a-ok!

Summary: (FAHC) Michael doesn't expect a man to throw himself in front of his car and beg him to stop. This is Los Santos. Picking up hitchhikers is generally frowned upon. But this man has a pretty face and hell - he's got a fast car. What's he got to lose?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32969470

Michael knew something was seriously wrong when a man throws himself out in front of his car.

Now, his car was nothing nice, but he still doesn't want to spend the next few hours getting some fucking asshole's blood off of his front bumper. So naturally he slams on the brakes as the man - a skinny, dirty thing with wild hair - does a legitimate fucking slide across the hood of his shit Honda Civic and nearly collapses on the other side. "Oi!"

"Get out of the damn road, idiot!" Michael yells out the window in a reply, flicking him off to boot. It was late, almost 2am at this point, and he really had anything better to do than scream at some (probably high) dickbag who decided to do calisthenics in the goddamn street. But the man doesn't run away ashamed, as Michael had expected. Instead, he frantically pokes at his phone - still in the middle of the street - and Michael sits there, a bit flabbergasted.

He doesn't move.

He still doesn't move when Michael lays his entire weight on the horn, sending a blast of sound into the Los Santos night. It's not as loud or annoying as he may have wanted - LS is always loud as fuck on a Saturday evening - but it does have the intended effect of nearly making the idiot in front of his car in the middle of the street jump half out of his skin.

"SHHH!" the man gasps, comically putting his finger over his lip like he was in a cartoon and making an over-exaggerated shushing motion. Michael has to blink. He's shushing him? While standing in front of his car? Before he can say anything or shake off the disbelief that this shit had to happen to him tonight - he had to get home and clean off before his next shift at the pizza place he had reluctantly taken a job at - the man (still crazy-eyed and wild-haired) runs up to his window. At this moment, Michael really wishes he had invested in a knife, or a Tazer, or something. People had warned him about LS, but he didn't listen. He should probably learn to do that, someday.

"Listen, man," the guy says (see?) and leans forward, a massive grin on his face. He has some pretty high cheekbones. Michael blinks. "Dude, can you please just move or I'm gonna run you the fuck down."

"No, no, no, listen," the man says again, waving his hands about. "Do me a favor, will ya? If you drive me to this address -" he holds his phone up and shows an address on the outskirts of the city - "I'll give you $1,000. Right here, right now, no questions." Michael blinks and then snorts. Yeah fucking right. "I'm not an Uber."

The man shifts on both his feet, looking agitated, and glances over his shoulder. There sounds like there's some sort of commotion coming down the street and he really has to move. So Michael leans on the horn again, blasting another honk into the LS skyline.

This has the unintended effect of making the man lean further over the hood of his car, as if he could hide. Remember. This was in the middle of the goddamn street.

"Dude!"

"I'm not kidding!" the wild-eyed man says frantically. "$1500. Deposited directly into your account. I'm serious, kill me and my crew if I lie."

That was no turn of phrase Michael had ever heard, but the money does make him pause. He's... short on funds right now. Well, he's always short on funds, but this time moreso than usual. $1,500 extra would be a huge boost to the amount he currently has in the bank. He'd pay rent. He wouldn't have to borrow any more from anyone else and avoid that loan shark fucker he found online.

Before he could really think about what he was saying, he finds himself tapping the passenger seat. "Fine. Get in. I swear to god, I better see that money."

And if he dies... well. Then he still wouldn't have to worry about rent, so win-win in his mind.

With a triumphant holler, the man leaps into the car and yanks up a GPS on his phone, pointing them to drive down the street. "Thanks man! I'm Gavin." -

They're not going more than five minutes when sirens start blaring behind them. The man tenses and looks backwards out the window with a frown. "Oh shit."

Michael immediately - immediately - realizes just how much he fucked up. "What do you mean, oh shit?"

"I - uh..." The unhinged man - Gavin - stutters. "Did... Did I mention that uh... the LSPD may want to arrest me?"

"May want to what?!" Michael's voice climbs so many octaves in that last word that it makes Gavin slump down in his seat, suitably chagrined. "I ... seriously, man, I - I needed a car, a way out, I promise I'll give you the money, just please for the love of god, drive the damn car."

"Pull Over," the cop car unhelpfully calls from behind them, making Michael's bowels turn to water. Gavin's even more frantically slamming keys on his phone as they approach a major intersection. Michael keeps looking behind him, unable to slow down as the cops continue to chase them. "Gavin, seriously..."

"You're with me now, man," he replies a bit frantically. "You're in it. So either we avoid them, or you're going to jail too. Sorry."

The words fall like bricks on Michael's shoulders as he realizes that what Gavin just said was true. No cop in their right mind would believe that he - a man with a few blotches on his permanent record already - would have just accepted to pick up a hitchhiker and drive him across town at 2am for $1,500 without assuming he was a criminal. No. Any sane cop would assume he was in on it.

Because the alternative was that he was a fucking lunatic, but here we are.

Gritting his teeth, a conscious shift happens somewhere in his gut. He's a survivor. He'd get the fuck out of this, one way or the other. So, without Gavin's input and in a split second decision, he takes a sharp left and rips around the corner, sending Gavin flying against the door with a shout of surprise. "HEY!"

"Gotta avoid the cops, don't we?" Michael says with a maniacal burst of laughter, the insanity that can only be best described as hysteria. "You're the navigator, idiot, get us to where we need to be!"

The nervousness - which had appeared on Gavin's face after Michael had blown up at him - evaporated as Gavin bursts into a big smile. "Hell yeah," he hums. "Let's do this."

After fifteen minutes, Michael had lost all his nerves. Instead, he felt like an overinflated balloon, filled with a giddy sort of lunacy that he had never felt before as they flew down abandoned Los Santos streets. He shrieked with laughter as they slipped down the runway illuminated by neon lights and flashing red and blues, which whipped around them like a rave of their own design.

The freedom was intoxicating. Michael had taken drugs before back in New Jersey, who hadn't(?), but this was a whole different sort of high. And as soon as Gavin realized that Michael was in it with him, he had turned into an erratic demon of death, urging Michael onward with the same fire that was reflected in Michael's soul.

They flew down the streets like hedonists, shrieking with laughter and happiness as Gavin shoves his head out the sunroof to flick off the cops and shout insults.

When the first gunshot cracks through the night, Michael is sobered only for a moment. In for a penny, in for a pound. He's already here, dodging the cops, so this shit may as well happen. It's like he's in a godforsaken video game but he's not. This is real life, this is his life, and maybe he's ruining it. Maybe. But what had he not ruined in his life already? For a few moments, he could feel like he was disconnected from reality, driving so fast he could swear he could fly, a - undeniably pretty - man urging him to new, foolish lengths from the seat next to them.

And so they flew. As they approached intersections and traffic lights, Michael could see - more like sense - Gavin's own particular talents. He admits he has no abilities behind the wheel, hence begging Michael to help him, but he's able to make every traffic light change from here to the safehouse, giggling like a school kid all the while, knowing he was being naughty but that just sends them into a more frenzied set of hysterics.

It tastes like the best drug, the most collective high, the freedom that comes from knowing you're one step away from death or worse but that dangle is intoxicating. Maybe ten minutes ago he hated what was happening, but all that was gone now.

It's just the car, him, and Gavin's frantic - musical - laugh.

Eventually - with Gavin's GPS and eventually warm hand over his - they lose the cops. Michael has no sense of time, no concept of how long they were on the roads causing havoc, fleeing and laughing and shrieking like demons.

All he knows is that he's out in the North now and the beginning shards of sun were peeking over the horizon. He's able to slow to a manageable speed and catch his breath.

Gavin's phone rings and the man answers it. Michael can't hear what he's saying past the ringing in his ears, the result of wind whipping past his face and hours of excitement. His face is red when he meets Gavin's eyes. He closes the phone and the excitement shines bright in his eyes.

For a moment, Michael's breath is taken away. Then Gavin just points. "Top of Chilliad. Get me there." His voice is hoarse from yelling, deeper than it was, and it stirs something that Michael can't explain.

"Yes, sir," he hums teasingly. In for a penny, in for a pound, like he had said before. They start the climb up the dirt road. Once or twice, Michael doesn't think his car can make it, but the tenacious Civic crawls forward as if it knows what it had done too and felt on top of the world.

They make it to the top as the sun finally breaks over the horizon completely, blanketing the world in orange and red. When Michael finally - finally- throws the car in park and looks over at him, Gavin's grinning the biggest grin Michael has ever seen.

Before he can do anything, fuelled by adrenaline and fire and the same pure joy on Gavin's face, Michael leans over and kisses him deeply, half dragging him over the stick shift.

They kiss feverishly for a few moments, the adrenaline fading, before breaking apart and chuckling sheepishly. "I - sorry, I ..."

Gavin just winks. It's knowing. "No problem, luv," he purrs. "Does it to you, doesn't it? The chase? Makes the fire in your blood run hot." He leans forward conspiratorially. "Men weren't made to walk on their knees," he hums. "Think about it." He digs in his pocket and drops a card on the passenger seat before climbing out of the door, even as Michael tries to grab his arm and yank him back. "Gav--"

"Later, beautiful," Gavin grins, seemingly more suave and sophisticated than the man he was when he first climbed into the car. Like he was grifting and Michael was his poor, unsuspecting mark. "I'll call you. You're a great driver. Check your account." He salutes and it's then when Michael can hear the thud-thud of roters. A helicopter?

Before he can say anything, climbing frantically out of the car to watch, Gavin grabs a rope ladder hanging off the bottom of a fucking cargobob and is lifted into the air, disappearing quickly out of sight like something out of a fairy tale.

And Michael is left in the remains of the sun-drenched LS morning, with a car almost empty of gas and mysteriously $1,500 richer.

Whatever had happened to him that night in Los Santos, he knows his life will never, ever be the same.

#fahc #fake ah crew #mavin #ragehappy #fahc mavin #rtwritingdiscord #my writing #rtwritingcommunity

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toasterness · 3 years

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Michael awoke to the sensation of someone kissing his shoulder.

The light filtering in through the curtains was soft and Michael was warm all over, not quite fully awake yet but pleasantly muzzy. He turned his head to stare at the man responsible and melted; Gavin looked so soft, so gentle, adoration clear in his expression and arms a comforting weight on Michael’s waist.

“G’mornin’,” he mumbled.

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IT’S DONE!!! Like I usually do with my long fics, I plonked a soft epilogue at the end because I am weak and a romantic. Please let me know what you think - I really enjoyed writing ABAS and I hope you loved it as much as I did!

Stay tuned for whatever BS I come up with next <3

#i can't believe it's complete #makes me feel all warm and fuzzy #onto the next thing!#ABAS #a beast among skyscrapers #achievement hunter fanfiction #achievement hunter fanfic #fahc #fake ah crew #fahc fanfic #fahc fanfiction #mavin #mavin fanfic #mavin fanfiction #fahc mavin #mine

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fahcin-nerd · 4 years

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May I offer a soft Mavin in these trying times?

#mavin #fahc mavin #gavin free #michael jones #golden boy #mogar #fanart

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bitter-coffeecup · 4 years

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My God this is beautiful I love the colours and the shading like Fantastic job Seriously.

And also if I haven't made it clear I don't own this at all I just think it's amazing ❤️

https://www.instagram.com/p/CChmybFJxuv/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

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A post shared by Art Person [ON] (@how_do_u_art) on Jul 11, 2020 at 7:23pm PDT

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#fahc mavin #fahc #mavin #roosterteeth #achievement hunter #micheal jones #gavin free #gta5 #animatic #M.A.P #art #shipping #this does not belong to me at all #Instagram

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turnaboutstevie · 4 years

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Exception

Requested by: @kingpattillo Prompt: “I don't like people, but you’re an exception” Pairing: Michael Jones/Gavin Free Word Count: 2180 A/N: I’m sorry this is sorta angsty I apparently don’t know how to write anything without angst shjdg it does end fluffy though, promise!! ********** The day they met, Michael decided he hated Gavin. He was loud, obnoxious and clumsy as all hell. Michael wasn't entirely sure Gavin didn't push his buttons on purpose. He seemed like the kind of asshole to do that. The bird noises, the stupid British slang words that made no sense, the way he screeched constantly and made his voice high pitched. Michael just wanted to stick a thumb through his fucking eye and tell him to shut it. But he was useful to the crew, so he tolerated him. Mostly. He wasn't exactly known for being mild-tempered. The way he saw it, the few black eyes he gave him were a warning, and the Brit would eventually get the message and leave him alone. Except, he never did.

********** "Michael" Oh, for fuck's sake. Why did he have to say Michael's name like that? "What do you want, Gavin." "Will you play a game with me?" "Why would I do that?" "Because I'm bored?" "But I'm not, and I'm already playing a game." He gestured to the switch in his hand, the soft cheerful music of his paused Pokemon game filling the momentary silence. "But you could be playing a game with me instead!" "Again, why would I want to do that?" "Because we're friends." "Where the fuck did you get that idea!" "We're not friends?" Gavin's tone was shocked and sad, the look on his face was like he'd just watched Michael kick a puppy- or like he was the puppy Michael had kicked- and Michael wanted to kick himself for feeling bad. He hated Gavin, why did seeing him sad get to him?? He pushed it aside. "No, Gavin. You never noticed that I hate you? Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!" His voice was raised a little, allowing his anger to squash his other feelings as he so often did. It was better to be angry than to be weak, he told himself. He'd never let himself be weak again. "Why don't you like me?" "I don't like people in general, Gavin. And you're the worst of all of them." "...Michael" Jesus, the one time he said it right and he sounded like he was 3 seconds from crying while doing it. "What, Gavin?" He turned back to look at him, but he was already walking away. Thank God, he thought. At least I don't have to deal with him crying. But he couldn't concentrate anymore, a pang of unfamiliar guilt gnawing at him. Fucking Gavin. ********** The heist going wrong wasn't his fault, not really. Sometimes shit just goes wrong. None of the others had known the motion detector was there either. But Gavin was so used to it being his fault, to being shouted at and blamed (usually by Michael), that when nobody blamed him for things he started to do it himself. They all tried their best to reassure the Brit, all attempts unsuccessful. Michael was the only one who didn't try. He didn't want to be cruel- Gavin had actually been super helpful on the heist-but he still didn't like him, and wasn't thrilled at the idea of comforting him. That is, until he got up at about 3am to get a glass of water, and saw a light on in Gavin's room. He poked his head around the door and saw the man huddled in a corner, a blanket around his shoulders. Michael hadn't really seen Gavin since the heist, which was three days before, but it looked like he hadn't slept at all. Gavin didn't even notice him, too caught up in worrying about what went wrong and self-blame. It wasn't until 5 minutes later when Michael appeared in front of him, a hot cup of tea in his hands, that Gavin broke out of his trance-like state. "Michael?" He knelt in front of him, handing him the tea. "I still don't like you, but you gotta stop blaming yourself. Shit happens. Things go wrong. Snap the fuck out of it. We need you." It wasn't exactly nice, but Gavin understood that he was trying. "...Thanks." "Get some sleep." And he was gone. Gavin didn't know when he'd learned how he liked his tea, but paired with the semi-reassuring words he'd just received, it settled him enough to finally fall asleep. He didn't even get to his bed, and Jack found him the next morning passed out in the corner of his room, an empty mug next to his feet. ********** Geoff had tried so hard to avoid pairing Gavin and Michael up, he knew they'd be a great team if they could work past their issues, but he also knew that Michael was far too stubborn for that. Gavin's personality seemed hand designed to piss Michael off, and nobody would dream of asking him to change. Michael would simply have to adapt, however long it took. But this heist needed them together. Gavin was, essentially, the bait. They knew if he fucked something up, he'd distract anyone on the rest of the Crew's scent. And if that didn't work-or if Gavin miraculously didn't screw up- Michael had a fair amount of explosives in his armoury. Michael made no attempt to mask his irritation at the pairing. Sure, the crew needed Gavin, but Michael didn't want to work with him. Jeremy or Ryan would also be down to fuck shit up, and they could at least tolerate Gavin. Goddamn it. ********** "What if," Oh, this will be good Michael thinks, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Your toenails could grow to be as long as your legs?" "Are you fucking kidding me?" "What?" "We're in the middle of a heist! Is that seriously what you're thinking about right now?" "I'm bored! We've been here for like an hour. When will the others be ready?" "When they're ready. The UD isn't a fucking easy target. Now shut up so we ca-" Just then, they both received a text from Geoff. "Alright, it's time. You remember the plan?" "Yeah, I'm tripping the alarms, right?" Michael nods. "I'll be right behind you, promise." Gavin smiled at him- why was that so distracting??- before smashing the glass of the bank doors. Well, that's one way to trip the alarms. They weren't in their normal disguises, so nobody would question why members of the FAHC were being so sloppy, and they needed the cops there as soon as possible. Maybe Gavin thought this through? Not too likely. "How are we gonna get into the vault?" Michael smiled, waving some dynamite he pulled out of his bag. "Won't that damage the money?" "The money isn't the goal, idiot. We just need them to think it is." Sirens had begun to sound in the distance just as the door blew, and they made quick work of grabbing what looked like a reasonable amount of money before making their way back to the foyer. They were well and truly surrounded, but this wasn't even half of the cops in the city. Definitely not enough to keep the others from being caught. "Dude, get back!" Michael shouted as he threw one of his grenades into the foyer. This served the double purpose of keeping the cops outside of the building- they wouldn't enter with the knowledge that they had explosives- and ensuring that plenty of backup would be called. What he hadn't accounted for was Gavin being a little too slow, and it wasn't until he heard the Brits pained scream that he realised he'd been caught in the blast. "GAVIN!" He screamed, code names and hidden identities completely forgotten. He hurried to the younger man's side, way more panicked than someone who hates him should be. "I'm okay Michael. Just... Just caught my arm a little." He was struggling to breathe through the pain, and Michael was at a loss at what to do. Upon further inspection, the injury wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Rather than the explosion catching Gavin directly, it seemed that his arm had been burned. It was still pretty terrible, and the smell of burning flesh was almost overwhelming, but Michael couldn't bring himself to care about anything but getting Gavin to safety. "Just hold on a minute, Gav. I'm gonna call Jack." Their escape plan had hinged on Gavin being able to drive, which obviously wouldn't happen now. After a short conversation, the UD heist was called off, and the Crew on their way. Michael still hadn't stopped apologising when they arrived, even though Gavin had passed out from the pain. None of them had ever seen him like this. ********** Gavin spent the next 3 weeks in bed, much of it against his own will. The young man had always had too much energy, and bed rest ironically left him restless. This was the usual for Gavin when he was injured. The real surprise came from Michael, who spent those weeks at the end of Gavin's bed, even when he slept. He brought him food and helped him eat, he dressed his wounds, he played games with Gavin when he got bored. They all knew that this was guilt, that Michael was letting the feeling that Gavin was hurt because he didn't do good enough eat away at him, and none of them could convince him otherwise. It wasn't until the fourth week, when he sat outside the bathroom while Gavin was showering and got shouted at to "just bugger off, Michael!" that he left his side. After that incident, he was nicer to Gavin. It seemed a mixture of guilt and proximity had led to, at the very least, some form of respect between the two. ********** They grew closer as time passed, though it wasn't particularly obvious. When Michael shouted at Gavin, it wasn't mean or borne from hatred anymore. He was still angry at Gavin, he would probably never stop being irritated by him, but he also saw the hilarity of Gavin's clumsy foolishness, and they would be laughing with each other 5 minutes later. Michael would play games with Gavin if he was asked, and launching himself across the table to wrestle with him became a rarer, much more playful occurrence. They still didn't work together a lot, not many heists called for a pairing quite as dangerously explosive as theirs, and Michael would still fuck Gavin over if doing so wouldn't seriously harm him or the heist. Their dynamic was the same in many ways, but where there was anger and hatred before, a friendship had begun to form. Only Michael and Gavin really knew it was more than that. ********** Was Michael really about to do this? Had their relationship even gotten this far yet? They'd kissed a few times, and Gavin had fallen asleep on his shoulder more than once. This was... Well, it was something a boyfriend would do and they hadn't decided whether that's what they were just yet. But he knew Gavin wouldn't mind. He knocked softly. "Michael? What's wrong?" "Just uh... nothing it's stu-" "Michael..." He sounded concerned as he took Michael's face into his hands. His eyes were a little red, and he looked like he hadn't slept much in a while. "Tell me." "I just had a nightmare... didn't wanna be alone" He mumbled, a little embarrassed. Michael hated showing his softer side, hated being vulnerable. Sometimes it was necessary, he knew that, but that never made it any better. "The Liberty decoy job again?" "Yeah..." Gavin pulled him through the door and onto the bed, kissing him softly. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, okay? I'm here and I'm not hurt. Promise." "Can I stay tonight?" "You can stay every night, I like having you around." Michael smiled, reaching down to take Gavin's hand in his. "Hey, Gav?" "Yeah?" This was definitely too much too soon, but he'd realised months ago and he had to tell him or he didn't think he'd ever work up the courage. No time like the present, right? "I love you." A cheeky grin spread across Gavin's face. "Really? I thought you didn't like people." His tone was mocking, but Michael knew he was just doing his thing, taking every opportunity he had to be a little shit. "I don't like people. But you're an exception." There was a few seconds of silence, and Gavin looked down at their hands, gently rubbing his thumb over Michael's knuckles. "I love you too, Michael." He looked back up, placing a gentle, loving kiss on Michael's lips before pressing their foreheads together. "I'm glad you don't hate me anymore" He whispered, after a few minutes of silence. "Me too." The pair would eventually fall asleep- as close as they could possibly be- but for now they were both content to sit like this, listening to the other breathe softly and hoping that they got to do this for the rest of their lives. For the first time in his life, Michael was glad he'd had a nightmare that night. Being this close to Gavin made it more than worth it.

#writing #my writing #prompts #requests #kingpattillo #fahc #fake ah crew #mavin #fahc mavin #fahc michael #fahc gavin #fahc fic #fahc fanfic #angst #fluff #fic #fanfic

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peantutbutter · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones, background Lindsay Tuggey Jones/Meg Turney Characters: Michael Jones, Gavin Free, Burnie Burns, Geoff Ramsey, Lindsay Tuggey Jones, Meg Turney Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Pre-Fake AH Crew, Canon-Typical Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Clubbing, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Sex, Love at First Sight, Mini-Heists, Dine and Dashing, joyriding, References to Arson

Summary:

The night Michael meets an Angel, he’s lost in a haze of drugs, alcohol, and music.

#ragehappy #mavin #fahc mavin #rexie writes #hey y'all here's the mavin fic i've been working on #it only took me forever but here it is #my fic

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thatonebathbomb · 5 years

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#fahc michael #fake ah crew #fahc gavin #fake achievement hunter crew #fahc fanart #fahc #ragehappy #team nice dynamite #fahc mavin #mavin #seagull voice: mine

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kincreates · 5 years

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Warm Mornings and Gentle Rains

A fluffy as hell one shot I wrote to cheer a friend up. Fahc mavin and insane amounts of fluff ahead.

Michael drifts into consciousness with a heavy weight settled across his chest and feeling much too warm in their bed. Their bed. The thought makes him giddy, happiness making his chest feel fit to burst. He shifts a bit, kicking the covers down so they pool around his and Gavin’s knees instead. Nearly groaning as the cool air of the room hits his overheated skin.

Feeling Gavin stir against his chest, he lifts a hand to pet through thick, sandy blonde locks. “Shh Gav it’s okay. Just shifting a bit.��

He gets a vague mumble in response and chuckles, presses a kiss to Gavin’s hair.

Michael lays there for a bit, seemingly content with cuddling Gavin. One hand rubbing soothingly along his spine and the other holding Gavin’s hand. Fingers laced together lovingly.

The soft patter or rain drags him out of his thoughts. Blinking over at the window, the dark grey skies of Los Santos greet him. His phone goes off a few minutes later, pinging with a new text.

A heavy sigh leaves the red head as he, reluctantly, lets go of his boi’s hand to snag his phone from the nightstand. A soft grunt escapes him at the harsh light of his phone screen, fumbling a bit in his haste to turn it down. Muttering a quiet curse as he unlocks it and opens the messaging app.

Message to Crew from Daddy-o (Geoff)

“Don’t worry about the heist today, Jack’s making me reschedule because of the rain. Have fun and stay today.”

A low snirk escapes Michael before he can stop himself, chest twitching with the sound and making Gavin stir. He presses a kiss to his head before returning to his phone, typing a message back.

“Aw, don’t act like you don’t love us! Gav and I’ll be fine today. Probably gonna stay in.”

Tossing the phone away to nestle in the sheets, Michael shifts a bit to lay on his side. Gently guiding Gavin to relax into the new position. “Shhh Gav it’s okay, just shifting a bit.”

He gets a mumbled response as Gavin tucks himself into Michael’s chest.

As soon as he’s settled his phone pings with a new message.

Message to Crew from Ray

“You guys are only staying in to bone. Don’t be too noisy I’m trying to beat this game.”

Michael smothers a laugh in Gavin’s hair, pulling the sleeping lad closer.

“We aren’t going to bone jesus fuck Ray!”

Gavin whines and snags the offending phone and discards it off the side of the bed before cuddling closer to Michael. “Michael you woke me up…” The complaint is more of a whine then actual words and muffled by his chest.

The usually fiery lad softens a bit and kisses the brits head softly. “Sorry boi. Wanna stay in today? Heist’s canceled because of the rain.” he’s quiet for a bit as Gavin mumbles an affirmative against his chest. “Maybe we can go out later and see that movie you’ve been going on about.”

Gavin perks up a bit and blinks sleepily up at Michael. “That’d be tippy toppers boi! But, for now I think I’d just like to snuggle with my best boi.”

A soft blush flares across Michael’s cheeks and he shifts to hide in the pillows. “Yeah, yeah whatever you want Gav.”

A soft giggle escapes Gavin as he shift to face the window before sliding back, effectively tucking himself into the curve of Michael’s body. A slow smile spreads over Michael’s face he cuddles up, curling a strong arm around Gavin’s middle and holding him close to his chest. Tucking his other arm beneath the other lads head gently.

They lay there for a while, silent except for the patter of rain and the sound of Los Santos slowly waking up.

Gavin is, unsurprisingly, the one who breaks the silence. “The rain’s so lovely Michael.”

A soft hum comes from said lad, muffled by the back of Gavin’s shoulder and sounding heavy with sleep.

Moving an arm to lay across the one Michael has across his mid section, Gavin laces their fingers together gently and returns to watching the rain outside. Deciding on letting Michael sleep a bit more. They could get up later, but for now this was nice. Perfect actually, if you were to ask Gavin. No one would though, no one else got to have this moment.

#fake ah crew #fahc #fahc michael #fahc gavin #fahc mavin #fahc ray #fahc geoff #my writing #mavin #fluff

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