You are yours, no one else's

Wouldn't Dream of it

Michael probably couldn't tell you exactly when it started or how it happened. The pain is good, it's for his own good, he deserves this. Affection has always been foreign, having not received any for most of his life, aside from his parents. That is, until he moved to Austin, he moved for a job offer at a company called Roosterteeth, where the five people he found himself working with, soon became his closest friends. They were his first friends since... kindergarten...? Maybe? Michael couldn't remember but then again he also didn't really care.

Sure, they would occasionally fight, he'd long ago trained his body to just go numb, yelling, agitation, it would all lead to pain... except it didn't. Arguments were resolved, sometimes punches were thrown, people were tackled, but it never hurt. They never once, tried to hurt him, when they did it was always because of taunting in one way or another, but they were just small things like pinches, flicking and such. Michael had never felt safer or more cared for than when he was sitting in that office, their office, playing games with those five men.

---

It was Thursday again, and Geoff had basically evacuated the room for the next hour or so. It was understandable, Geoff had given him a game which he said- "- will make you, lose your shit" –he was both nervous and excited. Rage Quit, was always the reason why be both hated, and loved Thursdays. He loved getting out some of his pent up aggression, but being pissed off was never a nice feeling and afterwards he always felt exhausted.

Whilst the game was loading, he pulled up the recording controls, making sure that it was ready to record him most likely, screaming till his face was red and his head spun... again. Once he was absolutely sure that it was recording, he delved into the game.

It was easy, it was so fucking easy and honestly that was what was pissing him off. Level start, run, jump, win, level start, run, jump, win over and over and fucking over. It didn't make any sense, why would Geoff tell him to play this if it- then it happened. The level started, but this time it was different, there were lasers and buzz saws, holes, platforms... is that a fucking shark tank?

Every time he died, a blood splatter appeared where it happened, the whole goddamn fucking level was covered in blood, Geoff was right. He was losing his shit.

His eye was twitching, his face was red, and his screams were echoing. He was pissed, he was so pissed, he was so fucking pissed, his co-workers were probably also pissed- at him. He knew he was being too loud but he couldn't stop himself, suddenly there was a bang on the door of the office. Someone had knocked probably trying to mess with him. Well mission a-fucking-complished, the knocking had startled him so much that his character died. Right. At. The. End.

In his rage he punched the desk, again and again, working out some of his frustration his screams doubling in volume. If he were in his right mind he probably would have made a joke about how if he continued he might put as many holes in the desk as Gavin's. But he wasn't, so he didn't.

He stood up roughly, forcing his chair out of the way so he could move. The Jersian paced, yanking his beanie roughly off his head, throwing it on the desk next to him, so he could better access his hair. Michael ran a hand through his auburn curls, letting out an aggravated grunt as one of his fingers caught a knot. At least now he was slightly calmer, he stopped and stood in the middle of the office with his hands on his hips. A hushed voice came from the other side of the door before it quietly opened, just enough for Kerry to see in. The red-head still wasn't calm enough or in the right mood to greet him properly.

"WHAT KERRY?"

Kerry whimpered , quickly closing the door, Michael vaguely heard Lindsay's muffled voice yell something along the lines of-