I'm Sorry [Mavin]

Michael loved drinking.

It was his favorite thing to do, if he had to be honest. He liked drinking, but not the "oh-sweet-mercy-is-a-ten-pound-mallet-being-smashed-against-my-skull" feeling that followed the morning after.

That is what Michael "Rage Quit" Jones was thinking as he blinked open his eyes one Saturday morning.

Michael shifted onto his back as he woke up from an alcohol-induced slumber. He stared up at the cieling, feeling slightly disoriented and like he was going to be sick. He blinked again, feeling his stomach turn.

Yep, he was going to be sick.

Michael shot off the couch, limbs still slightly tired and stiff, making him clumsy as he bolted to the bathroom. He flung himself over the toilet bowl, promptly puking up his guts, and making his headache ten times worse. All the while, Gavin wached from the kitchen, sipping his morning coffee and shaking his head.

Once Michael stopped throwing up, he leaned heavily against the bathroom wall, trying to catch his breath.

'What a top way to start the morning,' he thought to himself.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, blinking at the sudden change in brightness. He stumbled back to the couch, falling back onto it again. He heard the small shuffle of footsteps coming closer to him, and sighed.

"Here," a familiar voice said, the familiar accent giving Michael a warm feeling.

Opening his eyes, Michael saw Gavin Free standing there, offering him a glass of water and two small pills. Michael quickly took them, taking the pills and greedily finishing the water.

Gavin watched him, hands in pockets, feet shuffling around.

"I'm sorry," Michael apologized, setting down the glass. Gavin shrugged, looking down at his feet.

"S'okay," he replied, sitting down next to the American.

"No, really. I fucked up Gavin," Michael said, shaking his head. The Brit watched him closely and shook his head, repeating again that it was okay.

"No, it's fucking not, Gavin!" Michael began to say, his voice rising, but was cut off by Gavin's lips meeting his.

It wasn't a needy, lust-filled kiss. It wasn't long, either. It was a gentle, reassuring kiss, and it made Michael want to cry. He didn't deserve it.

When they pulled apart, Gavin immedietly clung to him, clutching at the back of his shirt. "Sh, it's okay, love, you don't need to cry.."

"Michael was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about, when he realized he was practically sobbing into Gavin's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, God, I'm sorry," Michael repeated, only making Gavin hold him tighter.

They stayed like that for a while, Michael repeating his apologies over and over, and Gavin comforting him.

Michael didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, he found himself lying in bed next to Gavin, who had his arms wrapped around the other gamer. Michael then smiled, leaning in closer to Gavin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, before pressing his lips against the other mans. He felt Gavin sleepily kiss back, but before he knew it, they were both out like a light again, Michael falling easily asleep in Gavins arms, knowing that maybe, it was okay.