Babygravy Stories

In all fairness, Matt thought he was over that phase of his life. Turns out all that therapy really wasn't that helpful as he's currently straddling Alex on the ground, lips locked and eyes wide, realizing exactly what the fuck he is doing. Oh god, Alex is going to *hate* him.

5 times Alex wanted Matt to get him pregnant + 1 time he did.

My 2025 Inktober attempt, featuring my current brainrot and OTP that you've all heard of and read by now (Defend myself? Never.)

It's true that Matt makes sure that Alex is thoroughly entertained when he comes over to his house - this time, however, all Alex can see is black silk and red satin, the window dangerously close to not taking his weight as he watches Matt and Ari inside.

For a fleeting moment, there was recognition, a flicker of something... was it guilt? Surprise? Before Alex could decipher it, Matt's face smoothed out into a practised, almost too-wide smile. He's determined to wipe it off Matt's face.

Alex takes care of Matt when they get home from a party.

Then, he felt it. Three distinct taps against his wrist, next to his belt. Looking down at his arm, Matt felt his long legs go all gooey, seeing it light up pink, his favorite color. The color he assigned to Alex, because he was his favorite person. (Or, Alex and Matt have Bond Bracelets.)

He's almost expecting to be pounced on as soon as he even cracks the door open, force of habit and all that - but instead of being crash tackled to the ground, nothing comes. Huh. That's a little weird.

"So, question-" Ari's voice was deceptively casual, her legs crossed primly as she surveyed the scene. "Did you, by any chance, bite other kids at school?"

In all fairness, Alex didn't know Matt's workbench had a loose screw on it when they decide it's the best place in Matt's workshop to make out.

Gravy Week is a Yung Gravy fan event taking place from October 6-12 and features prompts about the long boi lanky lad himself, Matthew 'Yung Gravy' Hauri!

He reached for the most nearby marker, something that was like forest green or whatever weird names they named colors nowadays, when suddenly - an idea hit him that made him put his mug down in fear of dropping it, grin returning full force as the idea turned in his head before it settled and made his mind up.

He braced himself for a morning of mostly dry presentations and corporate jargon. He definitely wasn't prepared for Alexander 'Gummy' Gumuchian.

It's always the same. Matt gets drunk, Matt calls him and he has to talk him down. He should hate it. He should.

He remembers that they were dancing. That's the last memory he has of him, permanently stained to his eyelids. Permanently lost in the flow of time.

"Please tell me the condoms that you carry in your wallet are not just the ones adorned with the American flag colours." "Normally they're neon pink, baby." "Do not call me baby."

One song at a time. Two more songs. Just the outro...then, the world tilted.

Matt receives a Christmas present just before he leaves to go spend it with his mother in Minnesota. Only problem is - he doesn't know who it's from, till he does.

Nothing. Still nothing. No texts, no email, no ridiculous voice note in Alex's signature playful drawl. That worries him, like /really/ worries him.

"Name's Matt, but people call me - well, used to call me Gravy, I guess." "Cool." Alex just wants to sob, go into the History wing and curl up in a coffin or behind a display case and weep. "I'm the museum nightguard, Alex." "Alex. Nice to meet you, big guy." Matt's smile doesn't fade, but Alex can see it dim a little, his eyebrows creasing like they used to when he was thinking a little too hard about something. "My best friend was called Alex."