Chapter Text
Gavin Reed is in love with Connor Anderson. He went down hard and he didn’t know what had hit him until too late. When he finally figured out what he wanted, Connor was too far out of his reach... not that he would have had a chance anyway.
In short, Gavin fucked up.
It wasn't like they always say in books and movies, where it just slammed into him full force on first sight. In fact, they'd hated each other sight unseen. Gavin started their relationship off on the right foot with a helpful, kind “stay the fuck out of my way, Rookie.”
He'd responded with a dull “Fuck you too.” His voice is almost always a sweet lilt, even when his words are crass, like this. Gavin hated how fucking kind he always sounded, even when he was trying to be mean. Now, he kind of loves it.
Their patrol was tense and awkward. Gavin always drives and thus, he had the excuse at the moment of focusing on the road to avoid eye contact. He'd radioed in that they were going to take a personal at around mid-day, and then finally broken the silence that day with a “get me a coffee, dipshit.”
Connor had stared at him like he was losing his goddamn mind, and at the time, he probably was.
“Get a move on!”
He had stubbornly crossed his arms and stayed put.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?”
“Waiting for you to get it your-fucking-self,” he'd snapped.
“Listen, you piece of shit,” Gavin seethed, “I don't care that your daddy is a fancy Lieutenant with higher ups lining his pockets, you're nothing but a fucking rookie, and I don't want a bullshit pansy ass partner that's only here because daddy greased his wheels. You're going to do what the fuck I tell you to starting with getting me my goddamn, mother fucking coffee. Black with no sugar.”
Rookie had gotten him his coffee... and he'd put salt in it. A lot of salt.
“My daddy didn't grease my wheels, asshole,” he'd raged while Gavin sputtered and coughed, “I'm here because I am great at this, and fuck you for insinuating otherwise. If you want another coffee, get it yourself.”
Things were downright hostile for about a month after that. Nobody fucks with Gavin Reed's coffee. His coffee is religion.
(but then there was time number 1...)
...And he started noticing things, like the fact that Connor wears a dog tag engraved with what appears to be only one angel wing. When he's in uniform and can't fidget with the dog tag, he has a quarter which he flicks around, spinning it on his finger or on the dashboard. And he noticed that the kid's eyes were literally always sad. Even when he smiled or joked around with other people in the precinct, he always seemed to be hiding melancholy.
Gavin had lightened up on him once he noticed that. Connor didn't catch on at first, to be honest. He still meant it when he called Gavin names. His eyes would flash and he'd straighten to his full height, ready to defend himself. One day, he'd taken a breath to start railing him, and Gavin raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, calm your tits, shitcake. I'm not mad. You just seem to enjoy coming up with new things to call me, and it's sort of fun to rile you up.”
But he hadn't been riled up. He'd spent the day in thoughtful silence. At the end of the shift, he issued a short, obviously uncomfortable apology and literally ran away.
After that the silences were awkward, but no longer hostile, and whenever Gavin looked at him, he felt... soft.
(and then there was time(s) number two...)
Gavin hears his colleagues talking sometimes, “...he's such an asshole, I don't know how Anderson does it,” and “honestly if Reed were on fire and I had a glass of water, I'd drink it like I was in a sprite commercial.” Gavin hears every time Connor snaps some angry retort, a “fuck you,” or a “if you were on fire, he'd probably dump gas on you for being such a dick!” or something along those lines.
After the first time the rookie defended him, Gavin always bought the Rookie coffee and not the other way around. He wanted to be nice to the kid for some reason... maybe because his loyalty is heart-warming. Maybe it was because his face would light up in surprise like he wasn't expecting the kindness. Most likely, it was that the combination of his surprise and his loyalty made him adorable.
For a while he did nice things for the kid in order to con him into taking shifts he didn't want, or going with him to events or the like. He started to get to know him, started using his name mixed in with all the curses. Connor. Anderson.
And then he'd come up with clit-licker as an insult, which he thought was a pretty good one. But for some reason the insult sent Connor into a helpless fit of laughter, complete with wheezing and tears and “Pff, Pff, oh God that was funny, I swear I’m done laughing--pff, pff…” before dissolving into another round of cackles.
Gavin noticed how lovely his laugh is then. He resolved to pull laughter from the younger man more often.
(the third and worst time went like this)
One day, they argued—it was like their first day all over again, insults flying, fists clenching, growling and glaring. Connor had gotten in the patrol car and slammed the door, radioing in a ten minute personal before getting back out and walking away. Gavin cursed his way into a seven eleven, grumbling while he poured himself a coffee—and fuck that cock-sucking motherfucker, he could get his own shitty, over-sweet iced coffee with the fancy chocolate syrup in it or whatever! That shit doesn't even count as fucking coffee at this point, fuck him and his obsession with sugar—and found himself face to face with two guys in hoodies and holding up guns and screaming at the cashier.
The cashier emptied her register quickly, hands trembling, and then turned to all the cigarettes and cigars, dumping everything into black bags with tears in her eyes.
Startled by his presence, the two robbers turned to assault the poor cashier, yelling about calling the cops. Gavin honestly isn't too sure what happened next, just that he pulled his own weapon and started to tell them to put their weapons down, and that next thing he knew, Connor was on top of him on the ground, unresponsive. Pissed as the kid was, he'd come back in time to shove him out of the way and take bullets for him.
Ballistics said that the kid had taken out both robbers with his own gun, impossibly perfect aim delivering a flawless, standard double tap in the chest and one to the head for each of them. He stopped calling the kid 'Rookie' after that.
(does this count as a fourth time? It doesn't matter, Gavin has had this building up for a while, maybe he's just lost count)
It took two months for Connor to be released back to duty, but that time without the kid had changed his outlook significantly. His replacement partner had been a dick and he requested a new one in less than a week. Likewise, the next one was a female who was all 'girls kick ass too' and 'I don't tolerate your face without wanting to file sexual harassment claims' and so he'd requested a new partner also. That one was also a chick, much more down to earth and chill than the first one. Downside? She was always raring to go. “we should check that out” or “we should do this” or “we should do that” or “hey, isn't doing this against the rules?” and it was driving Gavin up the fucking wall. Still, he tolerated the woman until his partner came back and then bid her good riddance.
Connor had changed with him, too. Gavin often showed up at his place to hang out, keeping the younger man company and drinking beers with him. He helped the kid clean up around the house and made him food a few times until he could use both hands on his own again, since one was in a sling for most of his recovery. Then, as soon as the doctor cleared him, Gavin brought him to the range every weekend until he was shooting like his normal self again. Watching Connor shoot, the concentration on his face, the way his right eyebrow pulls in just a bit as he sights his weapon and readies his body, taking a slow breath... it is utterly fascinating ( Gavin will maim anyone that speaks about this, but there was more than one shooting range day that he went home alone and spent some time with his hand) and watching him blow a fist sized hole in the center of his targets over and over was equally intimidating and arousing (not a word! Not one fucking word. Gavin will kill you. Slowly).
During all of those outings, Connor looked at him with so much gratitude that sometimes Gavin felt that if he didn't call the kid something offensive, his head was gonna explode. After that, Connor always just responded with a silly name of his own and a short chuckle.
It was an intense first year of partnership. Detroit is a city riddled with crime, and they found themselves almost always responding to home invasions or burglaries in progress, hold ups at stores or banks, and more drug crimes than they cared to count. Connor's professionalism and cool head almost always got them out alive. He had earned his place in the DPD with his talent and dedication, and Gavin was proud of him.
Gavin decided that Connor was going to be like a little brother, someone he could help come up in the system and in life as he goes through the ranks at the DPD. Over time, they became best friends. Connor tells him any little thing about his days, and his days off now. He laughs more, too, and Gavin is happy about that, because he doesn't want Connor to have that secret melancholy anymore.
(the fifth time is an actual time, Gavin promises.)
Today, he doesn't want Connor to go home alone. It's October 11th, and that means he's probably likely to go spend time with his dad who will likely still be drinking himself to death as he does every year on that day.
“ Hey, you alright?” There was that melancholy again. Gavin hates seeing him that way.
“ Yeah, fine. Just... gonna head to Dad's before going home.”
“ Why does that sound like you'd rather meet Jigsaw in person?”
He fidgets with his dog tag for a second before pulling it over his neck and handing it to him. There's one wing and on the back it says, “RIP Cole Anderson September 29, 1988- October 11, 1993.” Gavin frowns when he realizes the date.
“ My brother has one just like it, with the matching wing,” Connor explained.
“ Aww hell,” he says quietly. “I'm so fucking sorry.”
“ I'm... I mean—my brother Kenny, he was only six months old when it happened, and I was two. We both—we don't even remember him, really, but my dad... he thinks it was his fault. It was icy, we had an early freeze. There was a truck that day, with a tired driver and black ice... and Dad got off early so that he could pick up Cole from someone's house, and it..”
“ Fuck,” Gavin says helplessly.
“ But Dad... he never got over it, and...” Connor starts to cry and Gavin is completely unprepared for the shiny slick on his face and the glassiness in his eyes. “It sucks because he's the only one that matters now... I mean, we're still here,” he hisses, angry tears slipping down his face. “But when dad starts drinking that doesn't matter—we don't matter. Only Cole matters, and Cole's gone.”
That was when Gavin knew he was well and truly fucked.
It's been two years since then, and that moment still simmers under his skin, sometimes spiking to a crackle when Connor smiles at him or burning into his chest when Connor is sad. Connor has saved his life six times in half as many years, and in those times that realization boils in his blood: say something to him! But all he can manage is a choked thank you.
Today is one of those days... mostly because he knows Connor is already dreading going to the Lieutenant's house today. He knows Connor won't really see it as a favor, but he's doing Connor a favor, really by sweet-talking him into working security for a political function. Connor groans and grumbles, but begrudgingly agrees to work the overtime. Gavin decides he'll spend the boring evening spoiling his partner. He buys him a bag of mini-donuts and that ridiculous, over-sweet coffee from Seven-Eleven, as well as those annoying spicy chips he likes, and pizza by the slice, to go, from their favorite after-work pizza joint.
Connor digs into the feast with gusto, beaming as he crunches into his spicy chips as Gavin drives. “Almost makes up for making me be here,” he muses, licking his fingers. It drives Gavin absolutely nuts, and he reaches over and shoves a napkin into Connor's hands.
“Hey, I didn't make you do anything, fuckstick. You just know that the alternative is even less fun.”
Connor frowns, a shadow crossing over his features. “You're right,” he says eventually.
“Aww—shit I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. Just give me one of your cinnamon donuts, I love those.”
Gavin hands over the bag without protest. Connor watches him for a moment, but then shrugs.
They finish their food and get to work, joking between themselves, mostly at Connor's expense because of all his complaining about the rain or the cold. Gavin lights a cigarette at some point, and hands it to Connor. Connor stares at him like his head is going to fall off and shakes his head.
They're quiet for a while, and Connor's face falls the way it always does when he's thinking too much about... something. Gavin finally finds out what exactly that something is when it materializes from a limo and Connor's face morphs into sheer panic.
Coffee and a break later, Gavin knows. He knows that the pretty boy with the multi-colored eyes broke Connor's heart and that's why he always looks sad. He wants to tell Connor that he would love him better, that ditching him to figure out his feelings for someone else would be bullshit because there would be nobody else, but he can't get the words out. Instead he just says, “His loss.”
Fucking idiot. But at the same time, telling him about his eternal crush while he was pining over his ex seemed stupid, so he just did his best to cheer up his friend and went away... and in doing so, he now has just given up any chance of being with him.
Watching Connor suck face with his ex is just twisting the knife, so he goes outside to smoke and calm his nerves. The guys out here are all jokes and jabbing elbows, “lookit Queer Connie getting it on with some pretty rich kid haha” to which Reed just rolls his eyes and grumbles about 'immature bunch of ignorants' and threatens to shoot them all in their fucking balls if they don't shut up. They all raise their hands in surrender, “geez, okay, my bad, gosh!” and back away, put out by Gavin's attitude.
When Connor finally makes it back to his post, he is smiling so brilliantly that Gavin has to excuse himself to the bathroom so that he can hide his sudden tears.