#6

Summary:

Gavin reminisces on happier times with Michael until the memories lead up to his worst and most recent one.

Being surrounded by all those pictures and documents of happier times was beginning to get to me. All the years spent with my love and even the two kids we had later in life, bringing back memory upon memory. I couldn't help but allow myself to be flooded with the memories of every important moment of my life.

"Hey, Mi-cool! Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" I slurred involuntarily. A long night of drinking left me incoherent and fuzzy minded and right now, I didn't know what I was saying to my long-time best friend and crush.
"No, but I don't think I've ever told you how well your nose compliments your features," Michael slurred back. I immediately noticed how close we were. Beer bottles littered the floor all around us and the smell of the amber liquid was heavy on our breath.
But that still didn't stop of us from smashing our lips together in a frenzy of affection for the other.

I smiled at that memory. Our first kiss. Even though I barely remembered it and it was so long ago, back in our twenties. We were so drunk that emotions we had kept pent up for so many years finally came out in the most opportune time and our relationship officially began.
My eyes darted to a picture of Michael and I in perfect black suits.

"You ready?" Michael asked me. I could hear the layer of nervousness that made his voice waver slightly. I couldn't blame him. After all, I was just as nervous, if not more nervous, for the same reasons.
But I still looked him straight in his eyes, chocolate brown meeting emerald green, and gave him a slight nod.
"If it's with you, I'll always be ready," I whispered to him. Michael smiled, his dimples showing and locked his arm with mine as the doors opened and we were exposed to everyone at our wedding.

We had never looked better than on that day. Michael's hair actually wasn't frizzy for the first time in years and my hair wasn't styled in its usual messy style. We were both so happy, along with our coworkers and old friends. Our parents had been proud of us for admitting our feelings and showing the world that we were able to conquer it.
My eyes then darted to a picture of the house that we bought immediately after the wedding.

"Oh my god, Mi-cool... It's huge!" I gaped as we walked into the house that we had bought a week prior.
"Things Gavin says when we're having sex!" Michael cried out after my statement. I blushed and burst into laughter, causing him to laugh as well.
"That was good," I purred to him as I set the box I had down and made my way over to him. Michael smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist and rubbed his nose against mine.
"I know," He simply said as he pressed his lips against mine in an affectionate kiss.

Moving into the house was rough but there had been so many jokes thrown at each other that I actually missed that day. I couldn't help but remember how clean and strange it had been when we first moved in, but after years of living there, it became like our last apartment and became our home.
Especially after Banjo came along.

I looked over at Michael who was currently rocking our newborn son back to sleep. His first night at home wasn't going as planned but he was slowly warming up to the house, and to Michael. And even slower, to me.
"I still can't believe you won that bet. Because of you, our first son is forever gonna be named after a video game character," I whispered to Michael. He looked up and wiggled an eyebrow at me, smirking.
"It wasn't a bad idea and even you can't deny that. The fans loved it," He smirked at me. I watched both of them lovingly, wondering how Michael was able to adjust to fatherhood so quickly.
"You treat him like you've been doing this for years. Do you have a second life I don't know about?" I said jokingly. Michael smirked at me and shook his head.
"My mom used to babysit my nephew a lot when my brother was at work so I usually helped babysit when I wasn't working. I'm just doing some of the things she taught me," Michael told me, looking down at his son lovingly.
"Which one of us do you think is the genetic father?" I asked him slowly. Michael and I both didn't want to know this, but I knew it was something both of us thought about.
"I don't know and I really don't want to know. I'd like to think that somehow we're both the father," Michael whispered, holding Banjo a little closer to him when he started moving around. I smiled and sat in front of him and Banjo, admiring how gentle Michael was with him.
"I think you're the father. You act more certain around him. Plus, he doesn't start crying every time you touch him," I whispered to him. Michael smirked and took a deep breath.
"Geoff and my mom both told me that you won't feel like a parent until one tiny moment that you finally allow yourself to realize you are a parent. I already had that moment back at the hospital when you were sleeping. You'll have it soon, trust me," Michael told me gently. I listened to his every word like he was telling me the meaning of life. He always had a way to captivate me in a trance that made me listen intently.
I looked into Michael's eyes and caught his gaze, smiling at him and mouthing 'I love you' to him, which he returned.

Banjo had defiantly been my mistake child. Michael, not so much, but for me it was a defiant yes. And he knew it. Banjo and I were never as close as he and Michael were. I mean, we were close, just not as close as he was with his 'Daddy', as he had called Michael for his entire life (and still did).
I still remembered the day Banjo asked for a DNA test to be done to see which one of us was his real father. As it turned out, I had been right and Michael was Banjo's father. For a little while, Banjo treated me differently but he lost that edge quickly and treated me as a father again.
My eyes then flashed to the picture of Michael and I's second and last son.

"He's so tiny," Banjo muttered in his tiny three year old voice. Michael picked him up and sat on the couch next to me, holding Banjo promptly on his lap as he gawked at his little brother.
"You were this tiny at one point too," I told him. Banjo shook his head, making a face at me which Michael and I both laughed at.
"So, boi, do you have a name for him yet?" Michael asked me, wrapping an arm around me. Michael and I both agreed that I should be able to name our second child since Michael got to name the first. So, I chose the name I wanted to name Banjo but didn't get to.
"Oliver Edmund Jones," I told Michael promptly. He laughed and rolled his eyes, reaching out and stroking his cheek.
"You really want to name him that?" He asked me. I nodded and smiled, holding him a little tighter. Banjo nuzzled into Michael and fell asleep, leaving Michael and I as the only two still awake.
"We've made a great family, haven't we?" I muttered drowsily. Michael kissed the top of my head.
"Yeah. Yeah, we did."

Oliver was what Michael and I considered the perfect child. He was a genius, actually getting accepted into Oxford University. His tuition was pretty cheap since I went to college there for a year or two. He was in his last year of college for his doctorate degree in science, which he mostly did since science fascinated him just as much as it fascinated me.
Michael always told me about the hopes he had for our kids. Oliver had already accomplished most of what Michael wanted and Banjo was right behind him.
I sighed in content as my mind thought about all the memories that were made through my years of life. These were the happiest memories I had and for the past week I was constantly looking back on these memories, doing what Geoff told me to do.
Eventually, my eyes rested on a document that nearly broke me when it was given to me.

"I can hear your accent a lot more too. I'm just glad one of you got the accent," I laughed at my own statement, along with my two sons who were visiting from their respective places. Oliver finally perfected his British accent during his time in Oxford and he was having a hard time speaking in the other two accents Michael jokingly gave him.
"Daddy's gonna get so mad that you have Dad's accent," Banjo laughed at him, nudging his shoulder.
"Yeah, well Dad doesn't like it when you talk in your Jersey accent," Oliver scoffed, punching Banjo. I smiled at them, admiring their relationship towards each other.
Suddenly, I heard my phone ring. I groaned and got up to go answer it. I was silently hoping it was Michael, especially since he was supposed to be back half an hour ago to see the boys.
"Hello?" I answered, walking back to the boys.
"Yes, hello. Are you Mr. Gavin Jones?" A voice asked me.
"Yes, why?" I asked, beginning to get nervous.
"We need you to come down to the hospital. Your husband was in a car accident," The voice told me again.
I began shaking and barely managed a feeble 'okay'. The boys looked at me worriedly, noticing my discomfort and I motioned for them to follow me.
We rushed to the hospital, just in time to see Michael. The doctor stopped me in the hallway and told me about his condition. His final words made me burst into tears.
"I suggest saying good-bye to him. Even he knows he's not gonna live much longer," The doctor told me.
I walked into the room, seeing the boys surround their father. Michael was barely awake and he had bruises, cuts, and bandages all over his body. His eyes were narrowed and unfocused until they rested on me.
He smiled and reached a shaky hand up to me. The boys looked back at me with teary eyes and back to their dying father. Michael gripped my hand in his and gazed into my eyes for what felt like forever.
"I'm sorry, Gavin," He whispered to me. Tears were streaming down my face as he said this and he frowned at me.
"Don't cry, Gav. I know you can be stronger than this. Please. Cause if you cry more, then I'm gonna cry, and we won't want that, will we?" Michael asked me. I shook my head and leaned over him, crying into his chest as he slowly died.
"I love you, Gavin, and you boys. You three have made me so proud and given my life purpose. Thank you for that," Michael smirked that signature smirk I had grown so used to over the years until the life drained from his eyes and he went limp for good.

That was my worst memory. And I hated it. And unfortunately I'm never gonna get that memory to leave my head since it was the most life changing. More life changing than Michael and my's first kiss, our wedding or having Banjo and Oliver.
Looking at these pictures, documents, journals, and videos brought the same tears to my eyes that threatened to take over my entire life.
I looked up at the ceiling fan that currently had my belt wrapped around it. Michael made me complete and gave me purpose. My sons were grown up and living their own lives. Nobody needed me anymore, I had no purpose.
So without Michael, what's the point in living?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey, y'all. So I've been in Texas the past week (my reason for not posting) and I had a lazy day today since I was up until four yesterday to see a Spurs game. I actually went through Austin and I got so excited until I realized that I probably wasn't gonna see anything of RoosterTeeth. I get excited over stupid stuff, I know.
So this literally came to me as I went through Austin cause life and I wrote it. I hope you enjoy it since it's probably the only thing I'm posting for the rest of the week. Also, if I don't sound like myself, it's cause I've been really depressed lately and I have yet to come up with a reason...
Thank for reading and I hope y'all enjoyed!