ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: December 2023
NOTES: A gift for Tumblr user danidfordangercreativestuff as part of gtafest 's GTAFest Christmas Gift Exchange event!
The holiday season was always one of the best for the small, slowly growing crew. The general populace was so focused on their own overabundance. Their own capitalistic greed, accentuated by the hustle and bustle on the normally quaint North Yankton streets. Stalled lines of hardly-warmed cars. Arguments and fistfights breaking out in local shops over 'gifts' that would end up in the thrift or in the trash within the next few months. Chaos tucked within the thick blankets of snowfall. Comfort in the building tensions that ebbed and flowed throughout the town.
Something all the crew could relate to, in some way or another.
Not many members tended to stick around after jobs, floating outward and eventually finding their own paths. Some to other ventures. Some away from the criminal path all together. But there was a consistency—a ritual—in the way that Trevor and Michael found themselves sat in the back booths of some grungy bar, idly chatting and splitting the payout amongst themselves. They were, at this point in time, the only consistency amidst it all. The two that seemed to find themselves side by side; attracted like magnets. That's the way Michael would put it, anyway, words slurred and grin wide like a jackal's. Trevor's expression would match his own, arm coming to rest over the other's shoulder as he leaned in and gave a passionate affirmation to the sentiment. Hearty laughs over bottles and bottles of beer. Indistinct shouting and hollering as the pair stumbled out into the emptied streets, moonlight illuminating their forms as they pointed out their path. Boots lazily kicked off as they came to crash within Michael's home, warm bodies finding their respective spots beside each other, hardly paying attention to the way limbs entangled themselves and breaths mixed as slumber soon found them.
The next morning was more of the same. Idle chatter over steaming cups of coffee. Shared glances between listening in to the radio news. Following the ghosts of their former selves as the media tried to make sense of the robbery that'd occurred a mere few hours ago. Who was behind it? How much was taken? Where did it all go? Who could do such a thing the night before Christmas?
Huh, it was Christmas day, wasn't it?
"Shit, completely forgot." Words were groggily mumbled over the rim of the stained coffee cup.
"Hm?" Michael's head tilted curiously, eyes squinting as he looked between the radio and Trevor. "Didn't fuck the job, did we?"
"What?" That woke him right up. Made him briefly run through everything once more in his mind before he realized it was a waste of time. "No—No, M. It's fuckin' Christmas."
A moment to process the information with the tone provided. "... And? What, you wanna spend all day throwing up lights or something—"
Oh no, he knew that look in Trevor's eyes. He didn't need to ask; he knew the answer to his own question.
And he knew there was no backing out of it given how... barren his humble abode had currently looked. With all the heist planning, Michael simply forgot to dig through the ragged boxes shoved into the corner beside the couch. Forgot to spend the bright afternoon hours, nearly slipping off of the ladder as he strung the lights—many of which he was sure had blown bulbs—across the overhanging sections of his roof. Normally, he had it already done out of habit. He really only ever celebrated with the crew, usually dipping out into town to take advantage of the bar deals and festive shows at the strip joint. But there was a part of him that still enjoyed the familiarity of the work, as he'd often helped out or outright done it himself when he was still with his parents. Trevor, on the other hand, outwardly seemed to enjoy it. Always made time to decorate his own place and make it feel seasonal, Charlie Brown tree and all. He always made the time to try making it comfortable.
It was bittersweet to think about, all things considered. Michael didn't know much about Trevor's family, but the bits he did...
"Fine. Fuck it. We can decorate."
Trevor grinned. "Good, your place looks like shit without it."
"Oh, fuck off." And yet there was no malice to the words as they were spoken. Nor in the accompanying grin that crossed Michael's features as he let Trevor have a nice nudge on the arm. He'd simply passed him by, picking at the discarded holiday box.
Simply drew out the tangled mess of cords and strings as glitter stuck to the hairs on his arms. Trevor joined him soon enough, crouching on the opposite side to work through the wired mess and pick apart individual components. A series of warmly tinted icicle lights. Faux bundles of bush to drape over the porch railing. A semi-crushed wreath that—with a little bit of elbow grease—eventually looked close enough to a circle. Once they'd separated their arsenal as 'inside' and 'outside', the pair hauled out the exterior decorations, cursing low at the chilled breeze that whistled through the streets, and began the grueling task of hanging everything up. They shared their share of jokes between more strings of curses (as it turns out, using a hammer while hungover was neither of their strong suits), teasing one another for their minute injuries and their lack of artistic direction.
To passers-by, it genuinely sounded like the arguments of a long married couple. Bitter in its own, unique regard. But to them, it was nothing more than a little friendly fire. A lighthearted series of jokes that would be smoothed over once they'd stepped back and admired their lopsided, flickering handiwork. At least, that's what they'd told themselves as arms casually draped over the other's shoulders. As sides bumped together as they shared an equally lopsided hug.
"Well? Look any better, or still lookin' like shit, T?"
Trevor hummed, snickering at the way the faux consideration irked Michael. "Nah, looks fine by me."
Michael laughed and rolled his eyes. "Good, because I'm not climbing my ass back on the ladder. Can stay there year-round for all I care."