Chapter Text
Michael is explosive,they’d accepted that from the point where they became us and us begun to seem like a permanent thing. But his passion was a good thing, both in bed and out. The guys grew to love it, as they loved every part of him.But theres such things as too much of a good thing and sometimes it could just be too much. On the days where the autosaves have failed twenty times and a jokes gone sour and all any of them want is cuddles and kisses but he’s there cursing the Gods and them, making a racket that gives them all headaches. Or the days where Ray hasn’t stopped trying to get one achievement and his stress is making the worry lines on their faces seem so much more. It’s all just so tiring. Not the type that can be solved by sleep either, where the next day is a new page in their lives. No, its the type where even their bones begin to ache and it feels like fog has defended into their craniums. And there’s only so much any of them can take.
Ryan’s the first to snap, his snarky comments taking in a harsh tone that leaves the rest of them breathless and Michael floundering for come backs. They snap at each others weaknesses, and God knows they know those well enough and suddenly every secret told under the too-bright glow of a TV screen is a grenade in their personal warfare.
Gavin’s next, calling both of them out on their emotional manipulation, screaming at the top of his lungs for them to just stop already. His noise only spring boards theirs though and eventually they’re all yelling, Michaels face red enough to block out his freckles and Gavin’s knees shaking with anger. It’ll wont last long before one of them storms out, and the yelling with only two of them ends quickly after that. After that when they’ve settled down, repelled to the opposite sides of the house to sweat it out, Ryan goes to Gavin, apologises and makes it up to him with sad words and gentle smiles. Michael doesn’t try, too angry not to yell some more and so the bad blood between them sets.
Jack and Ray step back, content to spectate the tennis match of words and deal with the fall outs as best they can. They talk about it in private, Ray scared of loosing his best friend due to something like this and Jack worried that maybe six won’t work like everyones said, that they were doomed from the start and he should have just listened.
Geoff tries be Switzerland, really tries, but there’s only so much yelling he can take and he can’t take the worry he sees etched on Jacks face when they’re lying in bed and the yelled words float through the floor into their room. He’s the proactive one, so that’s why they’re sitting at the table, exchanging scowls after the latest bout with air thicker than water. He doesn’t want to bite the bullet, knowing that it could blow up in his face but he’s got to try. Geoff Ramsey’s not going to let one of the best things in his life go sour without a fight.
“This isn’t working.” Gavin goes to say something, but Geoff raises his voice and keeps going, “So, we’re gonna to the responsible adult thing and we’re gonna talk about it. Y’all gonna stay in this room until we sort something ‘cos I cannot go on like this.” He takes a swig of his coffee and looks each of his boyfriends in the eye.
They have a rectangular table, long enough to seat all of them and a couple guests, with dark wood and enough of a feel for Mad King jokes to have been made for a couple of months post purchase. They’re spaced apart, Ryan at the head opposite of Geoff. He looks directly back at Geoff, his face unmoving and void of any tell, waiting it out. Michael sits closest to him, one chair empty between them as he looks out of the window, unblinking. Gavins searched on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter, looking as though he’s ready to run at the slightest provocation, every muscle from his shoulders tightly wound. Jack looks inches from crying, his fingers curled into loose fists on the table top. He sits in the seat next to Geoff, and he meets his gaze when its turned on him, giving him a soft smile and a gentle nod of encouragement. Ray sits in the middle of the table, displaced from everyone else, and bites his lip, his attention seemingly preoccupied by the hem of his jumper.
Gavin is the first to clear his throat. “I know we’ve all been stressed lately but we’ll get through this, we always have-”
“Its been three months Gavin.” Gavins head whips round to look at Ryan, protests forming on his lips before getting swallowed down as he realises that the Gent’s words are true. “Geoff’s right, we can’t go on like this.”
“Then what do you suggest then, Ry-bread” Michael’s words are spat harshly, the normally fond nickname loaded. “That we break up?” No-ones actually said it aloud yet, addressed what they’re all thinking but it suddenly seems like a very real possibility.
“I don’t think thats what any of us want” Jack has to swallow several times to get his words out easily.
“God, no” Geoff says quietly.
“Isn’t it? Thats why we’re all here right?” Michael says, and although his voice is still technically at speaking level its on the way up. “Because it isn’t working you’ve all said that God knows how many times.”
“We’re not just going to give up Michael, we’re going to try fix this!” Gavin says indignantly and Michael turns to glare at him.
“Is that what you want? All of you are going to cling to this fucking sinking ship of a relationship, going to keep hoping that one day you wake up and it’s all sunshine and roses” Michael pauses for breathe mid rant but no one goes to butt in, all of them looking too shocked for words. "It's not ok. The good days are behind us and you know what if this is going to happen then it's going to happen right and I'll leave this house with my dignity still intact." He's stands up to leave, the wooden feet of the chair clattering across the floor noisily.
"Michael that's the last thing any of us want." Jack says softly. "We love you." Michael turns to him and for a moment he looks hurt before his lips turn upwards.
"Let me make this easier for you then. I. Don't. Love. You. Any more." He turns and storms out of the room. Him leaving gives Gavin a chance to as well, and the Brit leaves in the opposite direction, heading out into the garden.
"What do we do now?" Geoff whispers, running his hands through his hair roughly. "What do we do now?" Jack can only shake his head slowly, clenching and I clenching his fists. Ryan's breathing is the only sound in the room, his shaky inhales and exhales like seconds on a time bomb. Michael's gone upstairs, all of them know he's got to come down, but none of them know what to say then.
"Fuck this. Fuck. This." Ray gets up, his chair making the same noise as he untangles himself. "This is not going to happen. I'm going to go talk to him." He walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs, not stopping until he gets to the open door of the bedroom. Michael's packing, methodically placing things in a dark suitcase pulled out of one of the cupboards.
"What the hell do you think you're doing" Ray says and his venoms enough to make Michael stop and turn.
"What's best. Can't you see what's happening Ray, we're just going to hurt each other more, go out on a fucking high note."
"So you're running away from the problem?"
"No, Ray, I'm not!" Michael begins packing again.
"Well that's what it looks like to me! It's been you and I for so long Michael you don't get to just choose to walk away from this. That is not how it works. You don't get a get-out-of-jail-free card. Life's not fucking monopoly."
"I'm not going to stay out of pity. I'm unhappy, the rest of you are unhappy so I'm going to leave. I'll get the rest of my stuff some other time." Michael zips his bag and then shoulders past Ray, starting down the stairs. Ray follows him.
"Fuck you, Michael Jones. Fuck you." Michael doesn't look back, grabbing his car keys from the bowl and opening the front door. He can see Geoff in the kitchen, his head on Jack's shoulder but he doesn't stop. He's in the drivers seat of his car by the time he looks over his shoulder, twelve houses down the street and the doors shut by then. He takes the first left, no set destination in mind, and drives for ten minutes through the city. He ends up in a suburban area, the houses eerily similar to his own with white pocket fences and big front yards. There he pulls over, cuts the engine and slams his head onto the steering wheel. Then he cries.
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The house is silent for most of the rest of the evening, and it's not until everyone starts drifting down for dinner that any of them talk. They talk about their relationship over bowls of noodles and thick soup. There's a sixth bowl of soup put away in the fridge, but no one mentions it. It'll be gone by morning.
They pile into bed together that night, all at the same time which is a feat in itself but they need that closeness. They sleep poorly as a whole, anxious for Michael's return, but by two in the morning exhaustion wins over and even Ryan, the most nocturnal of them all, is asleep.
When they wake up in the morning the bed is still one person short, and the noodles in the fridge are untouched.