"Look Micool!" Gavin drags Michael to a mirror, showing him their side-by-side reflections. "You've got gold flecks in the same spot I have gray ones! They match up perfectly."
Michael scoffs, inspecting his own reflection. "So what? They're eye freckles. Not that important."
"But, Micool... That means they'll match up perfectly when I do this." Michael feels himself turned and oh. Gavin's lips are on his, gently asking for a response with a slight smile.
Michael does respond, the first kiss of thousands shared between them.
Michael pulls his softening member out of Gavin, groaning quietly when he feels the liquid that seeps out immediately afterwards. The man inside him is proud to have made his stake in the British man, and Gavin's blissed out expression conveys the same sentiment. Michael flops to one side of his boyfriend, throwing his arm out protectively and tugging the brunette closer.
After a long moment, Gavin smiles broadly, looking up at the ginger man. "We fit together so awesomely. Like those shapes that go together in those boxes, the kids toys, ya know?"
Michael raises an eyebrow. "A puzzle?"
His boyfriend nods. "Yeah! We're right next to each other on God's puzzle."
"That is the weirdest fucking thing I've ever heard. Why couldn't you just say we fit together?"
"Cause that's not nearly so poetic, my little Michael."
Michael rolls his eyes, but the thought of Gavin as his other half fills his insides with something warm and unexplainable.
They'd been apart for months when Michael's voice mail started being filled again. Every single one was from the same number. Michael had listened to a few before his new fiance had come home.
"I don't want you to get married, Michael... Not to her. Remember our eyes and our bodies? They match up for a reason, Micool... You can't just ignore that. I'm sorry Michael..." He hears Gavin's voice break. "I'm so sorry Michael."
The next one is more slurred.
"I love you Mikeywikey.. my precious little Michael... I miss you every day. Can't even sleep because my bed reminds me of you too much. My whole flat reminds me of you... I don't want to be here without you... Please..."
By the fourth slurred, tear-filled voicemail, Michael calls back.
"'Llo..?" Gavin sounds borderline drunk and very depressed.
"Oh, Michael!" He hears a noise as the phone is dropped, then picked back up. "Was hoping you'd call."
"You're wasted, aren't you?"
"No, I um... I've downed some medication... I'm sorry Michael. I just can't... Not anymore..."
"You what?" Lindsay be damned, Michael was throwing on any jacket he could find, running barefoot to his car before he could realize what he was doing.
"I didn't expect you to call back... I thought I'd just leave a nice goodbye on your machine..." Gavin sounds foggy and faraway. "This sorta hurts... not like falling asleep, like all the movies show. This actually hurts a lot..."
"Gavin, just stay on the line, please." Michael is sobbing. There are actual tears. When's the last time he cried? He can barely see the road. Fuck. "If this is meant to be, I'll make it to his house safely..." He says, mostly to himself.
"You're coming to see me Michael?" He can hear the smile. "I haven't seen you in so long..."
Michael has to laugh. "You saw me on Friday, at work."
"That was work Michael, not real Michael. They're different people. I miss real Michael..."
Michael bursts through Gavin's door at what he considers the perfect moment. If he'd been a few minutes later, he might not have coaxed Gavin into throwing up in time. They'd gone to the hospital, of course, but neither said a word to anyone, not even to Lindsay.
In the end, Michael couldn't bring himself to break off his engagement. He'd given his word, and he couldn't bring himself to break Lindsay's heart.
So he went on hating himself, and kept the wedding on. Most nights he could stay away from his biggest temptation, but there were still nights he found himself over Gavin's sprawling body, mapping it out through small bites and hearing breathy sighs of content.
The night before his wedding was one of these nights. After his bachelor party, he'd found himself in the position of spending the night with Gavin, and they'd taken full advantage of it.
The night was hot; the windows in Gavin's too-large flat were open. Michael lay awake next to the Brit, both sweaty after round three of unbridled passion.
"Do you love her?" The question was barely there, so quiet that the noise outside had almost drowned it out.
"She's about to be my wife." It was a non-answer and they both knew it.
"But you don't love her. Were you just rebounding off of me with her?"
Michael's silence is answer enough.
"I think you need to tell her. It's the eve of your wedding, and you're in your exboyfriend's bed after thoroughly banging his brains out not once, not twice, but three times. It's not fair to her."
"I know." This conversation made the air seem so much thicker.
"I don't want you to get married, Michael. Not to her." He said these words every time, usually with the same kicked-puppy expression on his face.
He scanned the crowd before the music started. No Gavin. He should have figured. Something interesting appears to be happening on Geoff's phone though, judging by the people crowded around it.
"Guys, can it wait? Wedding's about to start." He'd promised Lindsay he wouldn't rage today, but damn it...
"It's the news... Gavin's on the roof." Geoff looks about five seconds from bolting to see for himself, but Michael beats him to it.
If he squints, he can see Gavin on the roof. "Hi Michael!" Gavin sees him too, leaning dangerously over the side and waving, giggling as Michael's old blue beanie flies away in a breeze, landing on the street. So that's where that ended up.
"Gavin, what the FUCK are you doing!" He's only like four stories up. He'd live. Michael hopes.
"I'm objecting to your wedding, obviously!" Michael face palms so hard he leaves a red mark. Ray, beside him, snorts.
"This isn't how you object to a wedding, dumbass! You wait for the preacher like a normal fucking moron!" There are cameras on him too, he belatedly realizes. Front page of youtube, here he comes.
"That's boring though!" Gavin wobbles a bit, making the crowd gasp. "I can see the whole wedding party from here. Hi Lindsay!"
Suddenly, Michael realises his bride is at his side, looking up at his stupid lover with a look Michael couldn't call anger. She turns to face him.
"Are you still afraid of heights?"
"What?" That's the weirdest fucking thing to ask right now.
"You should go up to him, convince him to come down before he falls."
"But, our wedding? Lindsay, he's trying to stop it." She looks back up at the Brit, who's glancing over everyone in awe at the top of their heads.
"Let him. It's no secret who should be walking down that aisle to meet you anyways. It wasn't meant to be my place." She pats his shoulder. "I wanted to go to Colorado anyways." She was referring to their honeymoon, booked for a warm tropical beach, Gavin's dream vacation.
Michael nods. "Thank you... I'm so sorry, Lindsay."
"Don't worry about it. Go get your man. Oh, and straighten your tie, it's lopsided."
Michael fixes his tie, a nice silk red thing. He turns to the fire escape, taking a deep breath. He fucking hates heights.
"The things I do for love..." he mutters to himself, running and quickly scaling the fire escape before nearby cops can stop him. Looking up, he can see Gavin smile at him curiously. Looking down... Well, he doesn't dare look down.
"Hello my little Michael!" Gavin assists him up the last bit, holding him sturdy. "You look stunning." He brushes stray dirt off one of Michael's shoulders.
"Sirs!" An unknown voice pierces the air. Gavin peers over the edge. "Come down now! It's not worth it!"
Gavin sighs. "Michael, look..." he holds one of the ginger's hands, running the other across the skyline. "It looks perfect."
"Everything looks perfect from far away." Michael shakes his head, not standing too close to the edge.
"Even a relationship." Gavin turns and smiles, only half his face curving up.
"Especially a relationship."
There's a beat of silence between them. Faintly, Michael can hear people on the street bustling around.
"What do you think of the Virgin Islands?" Michael knows the answer.
"I think they're extremely misnamed but beautiful nonetheless."
"Would you like to go with me?"
This makes Gavin pause, confused. "When?"
"Today. Now. After we get married. It's our honeymoon."
"Married? Michael... Michael, are you proposing?"
"Yeah. Guess I am. So fucking what. I'm already dressed for the damn thing. Just say yes."
The brunette laughs, shaking his head. "Of course I will marry you, my little Michael. I love you." He makes a move to come to Michael, faltering instead and tumbling backwards off the side of the roof.
"GAVIN!" Without a second thought, Michael leaps after him.
They don't bounce as much as he thought they would, when they hit the emergency air-cushion. So that's what all the noise was. Michael notes idly, being tugged in a confusing blur this way and that, being checked out and questioned and recorded and just generally pestered.
Finally, he finds his Brit in the crowd.
"You dove to save me, Micool... that was the sweetest thing you could've ever done..."
He kisses Michael, and keeps kissing him. They barely part during their own ceremony. Lindsay sits in the crowd, still in her white dress, but sans veil, which she gifted to Gavin.
His groom has on a striped v neck, plaid shorts, and his ex-girlfriend's veil, but he's the most beautiful person Michael's ever seen. Vaguely, he wonders why they ever broke up.
Oh yeah, cause he was a fucking moron.
The trip to the Virgin Islands was still pretty fun though.