It was late; really frikkin late.
Michael and Gavin were working alone in the office, working on two separate videos.
See, when it got late, Gavin had a routine. This was a routine that Michael knew well, and had thus named it (to himself) "Gavin's Decline", ending in Gavin passing out on the couch and Michael carrying him home and allowing him to crash at his place. He spent a lot of time with the stupid Brit, so of course he paid attention to the parts; maybe a little bit too much attention, if he was being honest with himself.
So when the first part of the routine started around 9 PM, when the other guys left, leaving them alone, Michael already knew what to expect.
It started with a tapping finger. It was faint at first, barely noticeable, but it got louder as time went by. Michael tried to drown it out, putting on his headphones and focusing intently on his work. This was the time of night where Michael got the most work done. It progressed after about ten minutes to foot tapping as well, then fidgeting. This lasted for a mind-blowing hour that Michael desperately tried to ignore.
After this, Gavin would go to the kitchen, downing copious amounts of coffee and other caffeinated drinks. But he didn't just drink them; he fucking slurped them as noisily as possible. By the end of the two hours that this lasted, Michael was digging his nails into his desk and gritting his teeth in frustration.
Part three, because Michael broke it into parts in his head, was to be expected after so much caffeine consumption. Gavin would get up and start moving around the room, rearranging and cleaning things that didn't even need to be touched. He would shuffle around, moving games around on the shelf or attempting to organize his train-wreck of a desk. He would even begin to mess with Michael at this point, fixing his shirt or shifting his red curls around. Though this wasn't Michael's favorite part of the process, he definitely enjoyed Gavin's touch. His long fingers moved expertly through Michael's hair, moving it around aimlessly. Michael would complain and fuss at this point, but only halfheartedly. It only made Gavin double his efforts, and Michael knew this. This entire process lasted another hour, before Gavin got too tired and decided to sit back down.
Then there was the next to last step, Michael's secret favorite: Talking. Gavin would NOT stop talking. He talked about anything and everything, seemingly jumping topics at random.
"Mi-cool, did you know that a kangaroo can't hop backwards? It seems a bit inefficient to me. What if they walked into a dead end and couldn't back out? Do kangaroos even walk, or do they just hop forward? Speaking of hopping, do you ever wonder how airplanes fly? It's amazing, they're so heavy but can glide through the air. I wish I could glide through the air like that. And it's amazing how cookies are..." He talked and talked and talked, British accent getting thicker as he got tired of controlling it. Michael's vocabulary consisted of "Shut the fuck up Gavin"s and "Oh my fucking God Gavin!"s throughout this process, though he didn't mean it. He would put on his headphones again at this point, though not plugged in. He enjoyed listening to Gavin ramble, his voice soft and smooth in his ears.
"Gavin! Will you shut the fuck up?! I'm trying to fucking work here!" Michael whipped around, yelling at the Brit. Gavin merely smiled widely, eyelids dropping slightly from fatigue, before starting to talk about penguins.
Michael sighed, turning back to his computer screen to edit the video he'd been trying his hardest to finish. They didn't work this late often, but Geoff was gonna be pretty damn pissed if they didn't get this work done, so Michael was settling in for a long talking spree. He had no idea what Gavin was saying, choosing instead to listen his lovely accent. It was actually pretty lulling.
"Mi-cool, you okay?" Michael looked over to see Gavin's concerned stare, head cocked to the side slightly and light brown hair standing up erratically.
"Yeah. Why?" Michael removed his headphones, swiveling his chair around.
"You've been quiet for the past thirty minutes Mi-cool."
Michael blushed deeply. "Oh, um. I've been working like I'm supposed to, you asshole."
"Oh c'mon Mi-cool, I'm working too! Oh, y'know what would be fun? Making a statue of us... of cheese! But what kind of..." And just like that he was off again, rambling more to himself than Michael. In a way, Michael felt special that only he got to see this part of Gavin. Even though the younger man lived with Geoff, he was always relaxing or asleep before he would start his decline, and the other guys were always at their own homes.
Soon, Gavin was scooting closer, chair now right beside Michael as he rambled on. Michael gritted his teeth, clicking on the slow screen as it buffered. Gavin's voice was right in his ear, clearly trying to irritate him. Michael turned to face the Brit, grabbing his head and pulling him in for a deep kiss. He felt Gavin's body stiffen in confusion before he was kissing back, their lips moving together, Michael still tasting a hint of coffee as he slipped his tongue into Gavin's warm and inviting mouth. Gavin twisted his fingers into Michael's curls and the latter leaned into his warmth.
After several long moments, Michael pulled away, panting slightly, but smiling smugly.
"Shut the fuck up, Gavin."