I do not own this awesome show or its characters, but this is my form of homage to the genius writers. No copyright infringement is intended.
This is not related to the "Missing Episodes" story; it's just some sexy fun set after Best Man for the Gob. I'm ignoring the "on the next Arrested Development" clip with Buster, and using the forget-me-now pills from season 3.
Michael and GOB were making up after the disastrous bachelor party.
Michael said, "Why don't you start trusting yourself, okay? Not Dad. You're a much better man than he is."
GOB answered, "You're a better man than both of us."
"You're the best man. You're my best man. Not if I have an actual ceremony, because Dad would kill me, but--"
GOB asked, "What do you say, hermano? Help me clean up this mess?"
"What the hell." They smiled and stood up together.
However, the door opened just then, and GOB's wife rushed in to announce, "GOB, I want out. I'm in love with your brother."
"What?" Leaping to conclusions, GOB turned to Michael angrily. "You did it again, you son of a bitch!"
Michael protested, "No, no!"
GOB punched him out, and Michael even rolled right over a chair before he landed on the floor.
Then GOB's wife belatedly continued, "-in-law, Tobias. Sorry, I should have finished that thought."
GOB glanced back at Michael and realized what he'd done. He wanted to rush over and apologize to Michael, but he was torn by what his wife had just said about Tobias.
"I'm sorry, GOB. It's just that I've been a fan of his for years, ever since I saw his band play in '96. And now after meeting Tobias, and singing with him, I-I realized that I'm in love with him."
"Him?" GOB was upset, and felt his masculinity challenged.
His wife said, "I know it's wrong! He's married to your sister, and they have a daughter."
"And he's gay!"
GOB's wife could not be discouraged in her image of Tobias as the perfect man. "Yes, he makes me feel so happy and gay. I'm sorry, GOB, but I can't stay married to you now. We should get a divorce."
"No!" He grabbed her arms dramatically, just like he did the last time that she suggested a divorce. "We're not getting divorced!"
He hugged her to his chest and insisted, "Your parents are getting divorced, and everyone else is, but we can't! I mean, we were even gonna consummate it toni--"
She pulled back. "Oh, we never consummated it! You're right. We should get an annulment!"
"No! No, let's stay married," he begged her. "Stay with me. I mean, what's the point? You can't be with Tobias anyway."
"But I can't stay around here, seeing him all the time with your sister." She weepily but firmly extracted herself from GOB's arms. "I'm sorry. I have to go now."
"Goodbye!" She ran out of the hotel room.
Stunned and hurt, GOB sat down on the floor and looked sadly at Michael, still unconscious. GOB touched the bruise on his cheek regretfully and caressed his hair. "Michael..."
He hoped that Michael would forgive him for his mistake. Maybe he should give him a forget-me-now pill just in case. But GOB decided not to, and tried to wake up Michael instead, to ask him for help with his wife. Surely Michael would know what to do; he always solved GOB's problems.
In the back room, Buster woke up and wandered out, disheveled. "What's going on? Where'd everybody go?" Then he gasped. "Michael! What happened to him?"
GOB tried to explain, "Well, I--She--I mean--" He gave up, finding it too humiliating to admit that his wife loved Tobias, of all guys. So GOB dug into his pocket and took out a forget-me-now pill, popping it into his own mouth.
"What's that?" Buster asked. "Is that candy?"
GOB shook his head and put his remaining pills away.
Buster continued to guess, "Or a mint? An aspirin?"
Combined with the alcohol that he drank earlier, the pill soon made GOB pass out and slump against Michael.
"Ah!" Buster was shocked and confused.
Narrator: Not wanting to get blamed for his two unconscious brothers, Buster ran off.
Leaving the hotel room in a panic, Buster ran along the hallways until he spotted George Michael sitting outside by the pool and playing his wood block sadly.
"Hey, nephew. What happened?"
"They didn't want me in the band." Then George Michael looked at his watch. "Hey, weren't you at Uncle GOB's bachelor party? It's not over already, is it?"
Buster shrugged and said, "Um, well, I guess so. Unless maybe it was all a game that I don't understand."
George Michael didn't understand what his uncle meant, either, but he let it go and just asked Buster if he wanted to sing something. "I'll keep the beat."
"Okay." Then Buster giddily sang the song "Mr. Roboto" while George Michael played his wood block.
Meanwhile, back in the hotel room, Michael finally woke up with a groan. He blinked and found GOB lying against him. "GOB? What happened?"
"Huh?" GOB looked up groggily. "Michael, you've got a bruise."
Michael winced. "Yeah, right where you punched me."
"I punched you?"
"Yeah, don't you remember? When your wife came in and--"
"My wife came in?"
Michael frowned. "Uh-huh. GOB, what's the last thing you remember?"
GOB thought about it. "Well, I-I turned off the TV on Dad, and you and me made up. Then we--we were gonna clean up the mess from the party."
"Right. Then your wife came in and said, 'GOB, I want out. I--'" But Michael didn't complete the sentence, not wanting to get punched in the face a second time.
"What?" GOB asked.
Michael squirmed, then spoke defensively, "I didn't do anything! I never came onto her, GOB, and I barely spent any time talking to her. But then she told you just now that she was in love with your brother, and you assumed that she meant me. But maybe she didn't, you know? Maybe she meant Buster." Still, he was afraid that GOB wouldn't believe him, so he braced himself for another punch.
GOB slowly absorbed Michael's words and frowned. He had a vague feeling of regret and guilt, so he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Michael. You okay?"
Michael hesitantly put down his shielding hands. "You're not mad?"
"No. You're right, Michael. I shouldn't have assumed. I should trust you, 'cause you're my brother. My hermano."
Michael looked relieved and nodded with a smile. "Yeah."
GOB hugged him and asked with concern about the bruise, "Did I hurt you?"
Michael said, "A little. I think I need some ice."
"Okay. I'll get you some." GOB started to stand up, but he felt woozy and fell back onto Michael.
Michael caught him and caressed his face. "Are you okay?"
"I feel weird."
"Did you hit your head or something?" That would explain the memory loss.
"I don't know." GOB shrugged and lay his head down on Michael's shoulder.
Michael held him for a while, and they just nestled silently on the floor. It was nice like this, not fighting for once, and being close. He remembered the great talk that they had before GOB's wife interrupted. They had really felt like brothers, and Michael wished it could always be like that. He hated when their father came in between them.
GOB finally lifted his head and looked into Michael's eyes. He leaned close, nuzzling and kissing all over Michael's face, except for his sensitive bruise.
Michael didn't mind the kisses, and he closed his eyes. He could hear GOB breathing, and for some reason, it was very soothing.
"Michael..." Then GOB kissed his lips.
Forgetting that this was his brother, Michael kissed him back.
GOB kissed him more firmly, and after a pause, he opened Michael's mouth.
GOB made it harder to speak with his tongue.
They kissed passionately, and Michael pulled him closer, running his fingers through GOB's hair. His brother's hair. Michael had thought that his recent fling with Maggie Lizer was naughty, but this was much more taboo, and much hotter. He was probably breaking all sorts of Commandments now.
"Mikey..." GOB moved down to nibble his ear, and Michael groaned. It wasn't very long before they were panting and straining against each other on the floor.
GOB fumbled with the zipper of Michael's jersey, while Michael pulled off his brother's bright sweater and tackled the buttons of the garishly colored shirt underneath it. While undoing his belt, GOB wished that he was wearing his stripper pants instead of khakis; he should not have let his wife dress him. Getting hard, Michael opened the fly of his jeans and kicked off his sneakers.
In a low growl, GOB suggested getting into bed, so Michael helped him get up, and they stumbled into the back room together, hastily dropping more clothes along the way. They sank to the bed in each other's arms, and at last GOB got to consummate his marriage, albeit with the wrong person. Or was it the right person? It felt so right.
It was a wild, uninhibited night. Michael felt like he was drunk, though he'd barely had any alcohol. Maybe it was the thrill of the forbidden. Maybe it was how deeply and perversely he loved his brother. Whatever the reason, they teased and groped and tasted each other feverishly, and GOB taught him some moves that he had learned in a threesome.
In the morning, Michael woke up and found his older brother still asleep beside him. Happy that it wasn't all a dream, Michael nuzzled him and realized that he should let GOB corrupt him more often. He also hoped that they could keep this dirty little secret going for a while, unlike his brief affair with Maggie.
Soon GOB woke up too, but he groaned as if he had a hangover. Then he blinked and looked surprised. "Michael? What--what happened?"
"You don't remember?" Michael frowned and worried. Maybe GOB had hit his head rather hard. Maybe GOB had only been drunk and on the rebound from his wife. Oh God, what would he do?
Sitting up, GOB lifted the covers and saw that they were both naked, lying in sheets stained by multiple orgasms. He took this calmly, though, and said, "Well, my ass doesn't hurt, so I guess you didn't (bleep) me. Did I (bleep) you?"
"Um, yeah," Michael admitted softly. His ass did hurt, but it was well worth it. He looked into GOB's eyes hopefully.
To his relief, GOB smiled and rolled nearer. "Well, then you better let me refresh my memory."
Michael smiled back. "Okay."
GOB kissed Michael and slid his arms around him again. Michael decided to tell GOB about his wife later, but somehow, he didn't think that GOB would mind much.
Michael's wrong about the Commandments, but none of the Bluths have a firm grasp on the Ten Commandments.