ONESHOTS ⊳ gavin reed x reader

[(Un)eventful]

[Not a request, just wanted to do a little something for my favorite garbage man's birthday.]

In which Gavin Reed is firmly convinced that none of his relatives or acquaintances actually care enough to wish him a happy birthday. You do much more than that, with the generous help of Elijah Kamski, of course.

It's not like he wanted them to know, or even care. Why would he? Gavin Reed had no desire to celebrate his birthday—or at least he told himself that. What's so great about getting older, anyways? Exactly. Nothing. Birthdays are just shitty reminders that one more year of one's life had gone by, and nothing had changed. What a grim thing to even celebrate it. He had no need for that. Gavin was pessimistic enough already. Why the fuck would he want a party, or even attention?

So, as one would expect, for multiple years of working for the DPD, he could proudly state that he hadn't celebrated his birthday, not even once. Not with his workmates, his friends (he had two, alright?) or even family. Though he supposed there wasn't anything particularly enticing about spending a day with his stuck-up, cryptical ass of a half brother, cat lady of a mother, and avoiding his father.

So, no, taking into consideration the two compelling arguments presented above, Gavin Reed really had no desire to celebrate his birthday.

Yet he couldn't deny the rush of hot, prickling excitement through his veins when he arrived at his desk in the precinct and threw his jacket over his chair, where he found a chocolate (his favorite, by the way) donut. Decorated with colorful sprinkles on top, placed on a tissue for obvious hygienic reasons, with a simple white, lit up candle stuck inside it. He inspected it, unable to refrain from smirking with the right corner of his mouth, and looked around for the culprit.

Everything was perfectly mundane. All his workmates were staring at their terminals, some sipping on coffee, disinterest on each and every one of their faces.

Gavin decided to narrow down the suspects of this strange deed. It could be Tina, or maybe Anderson pulling a prank on him, or maybe...(y/n), though she wasn't there, Gavin observed with a glance at her empty desk. (Y/n) (l/n) was one of his more recent friends, still a rookie, yet quite a pleasure to be around. Though Gavin really couldn't be arsed to believe it was her—she got along with everyone at the station, why bother with his birthday?

The detective chewed his lip, leaning back in the office chair and tapping his fingers against the armrest.

This called for an investigation.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The day had been rather fruitless: Gavin had been called in by some elderly woman to look for her Android, successfully found it in her neighbor's home, and then returned to the station to take care of some paperwork.

Who could've guessed that his birthday, of all days, would turn out to be even more depressing than his everyday life?

Gavin sighed, getting out of the self-autonomous taxi that had parked in front of his apartment complex. He walked to his front door, hands shoved in his pockets to avoid the unusually biting October temperatures, and jammed the key inside the lock, twisting it. Only to realize it already was open.

Fuck.

Millions of possibilities, ranging from the innocent idea that he may have forgotten to lock it in the morning, all the way to a break in raced through his mind as his hand darted to the back of his belt, pulling out his gun.

Carefully, Gavin twisted the doorknob and stepped inside, loading the weapon.

"Surprise!"

Good thing he hadn't disabled the safety lock, because his hands flinched around the trigger when all the lights were suddenly switched on.

In the middle of the room were standing (y/n), holding a cake, batter on her cheek, and to her right Elijah, holding Damnit, his cat. They had forced the poor animal into wearing a small party hat, Gavin noted with a hint of amusement.

The detective couldn't believe it. Was this a dream? Probably. He was almost expecting an alien head to pop out of the cake and for all of this to turn into a nightmare or something.

"Happy birthday, brother dear." Elijah spoke up, hoping to put an end to the silence that had settled over the apartment.

"You're-" He stuttered out, heart stuttering against his stern. This was too good to be true. "What-"

"Lieutenant Anderson told me you don't celebrate your birthday, so I thought...I thought I'd change that." (Y/n) rushed to explain, yet couldn't find the words. "Elijah was kind enough to offer me some help."

"This is for me?" Gavin asked, voice unusually shushed.

"No, it's for the cat, actually." Elijah smirked and gave the animal a chin scritch. Damnit responded with the peaceful closing of her eyes and by nestling against Elijah further. Traitor.

He was speechless, at best. Who would've thought that his genius of a half-brother still cared enough to help organize a surprise party? And for (y/n) to want to do one, in spite of knowing him for not more than 2 months?

"Do you like it? I can invite more people if-" (y/n) rambled, setting the cake on the table and approaching Gavin.

"No, it's perfect. This— Holy shit. Thank you." He had no idea what he was doing, and found himself pulling (y/n) into a bone crushing hug.

She responded with a muffled giggle and buried her face into his clavicle. Gavin's chest swelled with nothing but happiness. Someone cared.

Someone actually cared.

When (y/n) let go of him, he found himself with his eyes glazed with tears of happiness. Gavin was quick to wipe them away with his forearm before Elijah and (y/n) could notice.

"Well then, let's cut the cake, shall we?"