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notsowrites · 1 year

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to hide would be so dishonest

summary: snow means different things to alex & michael

a/n: written for the 2023 year of the OTP event

[read on AO3 here]

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Ever since he was a child, Alex has loved the snow. It wasn't something that happened often in New Mexico, and they didn't get a ton of it like he'd always seen in movies - but it was enough to build a small snowman and have snowball fights with his brothers. And there was always something magical about it too, the way it fell from the sky in tiny individual flakes and covered everything as far as the eye could see.

A decade of deployments had made him miss more snowfalls than he cares to think about. And as winter creeps ever closer in the months after the wedding, Alex finds himself getting more and more excited at the prospect of sharing his love of the first snowfall with Michael.

But when it happens, when those first flakes of the season fall from the sky, it's the middle of the night. It's a surprise change in the forecast, weather that was only predicted to be rain and ice turns into a full fledged snowstorm without warning.

And in the morning, Alex wakes up, and he knows it has snowed outside. Even before he looks out the window. He turns under the covers towards Michael, wanting to bury his nose against his husband's skin, kiss him awake and share the excitement of the first snowfall of the season. Relish in the fact that he can share these kind of little details with Michael, knowing that each time they've done so in the past it's only strengthened their relationship.

But Michael isn't there.

Eventually he finds Michael sitting outside, footprints from his boots leading out to the truck parked in the driveway. It's not where he's expected to find Michael at all - mornings when Michael does wake before him, it usually meant he was making coffee and breakfast, wanting everything ready for when Alex does wake up.

"What are you doing out here?" He asks, sliding onto the tailgate, and slipping their fingers together.

There's a solemn look on Michael's face, as though he's lost in a memory, something long ago that's been pulled to the surface.

"Just… thinking."

"About?"

Michael shakes his head, dropping his head forward and staring at their hands. Alex follows his movements, watching as Michael slides his other hand over top, something that Alex is pretty sure is happiness exploding inside him as Michael presses his lips to his knuckles. He doesn't know what's going on inside Michael's mind, and can't know unless he shares, but there is something in that simple gesture that tells Alex he will.

And so Alex waits as Michael keeps his hand pulled against his chest, holding on right to it as if needing it to ground him against something.

"Feels different now," Michael finally says, attention trained on him. "The first snow of the year."

"Because we're married?" He asks the simplest question, because he wants Michael to share with him, doesn’t want to push too hard like he’s done in the past.

Michael shakes his head. "That first winter after we came out of the pods, I was in the group home, and I didn't have any memories, so snow was - snow was new. It felt magical somehow, watching it fall."

"It is magical."

"Yeah," Michael continues, still not looking over at him, but Alex hears the way this isn't a happy memory for him. "It was for Max and Isobel, anyway."

Not for the first time, Michael speaks of the difference in how he had to grow up versus how Max and Isobel were allowed to grow up because they had simply gotten adopted. Two parents who absolutely loved them, who probably didn't let it bother them their children had no memories of snow before, and simply rolled with it, making it a happy experience as much as possible. And how can he argue with that when his own childhood, those happy years before his mom left were something of the same? He's held onto those memories so tight sometimes, afraid to ever lose them or let them be overtaken by all the years afterward.

But that isn't all Michael wants to say.

"I'd spend as much time as possible not in the group home or the foster homes. But winter meant - it meant more time stuck inside. And then when I started living out of my truck, it was just survival, one day at a time during the winter."

He wants to ask about Max and Isobel, but he knows now, better than perhaps anyone else, how much Michael abhors feeling like a charity case, that he'd have to repay the debt if they were to let him stay over. It wasn’t something he’d understood at first, or even for years afterwards. He’d had to learn the hard way how much Michael hated receiving gifts from others, as if marking them down in his mental ledger, how much he would then owe someone in the future. An old guitar is shoved into the further corner of the closet in the bedroom, tucked behind some storage bins and out of sight, and Alex hopes that someday he can give it back, and that Michael will believe there are no strings attached to it.

The cold starts to nip at his ears, and Alex can feel it settling against his nose as well. He pulls the blanket tighter around him, but doesn't dare move. Not yet.

"By the time I got the Airstream I was so used to the cold, the fact that the heating sucked didn’t bother me,” his voice stays quiet, and it begins to make sense why Michael would spend so much time around the firepit outside at the junkyard. “Isobel would always tell me it was an improvement over my truck.”

“And now?” He tries, hoping that maybe Michael will be open to making a new memory for himself about the snowfall, and this new life they’ve started together. The future he believes that both of them have wished to come true, but didn’t dare hope for because of so many other things in their lives that kept trying to get in the way.

Because now there are matching gold rings on their fingers, and beautiful vows they’d said in the middle of the gazebo in the town square; they’d had two amazing weeks together alone in California for a honeymoon and Alex had watched the child-like wonder on Michael’s face at seeing the ocean for the very first time. And this house that he’d bought after returning to Roswell after his injury, when he’d been reassigned to desk duty, no longer feels like it’s just his house anymore - it’s their house.

Finally, Michael turns towards him, a hand sliding up to cup his face, pulling Alex towards him as their lips brush together.

“This morning I got to wake up in the arms of the man I love, and it felt like-” Michael pauses, pulling back slightly, his fingers still brushing across the skin of his face, causing Alex to lean into the touch. “Like maybe I didn’t hate the snow anymore.”

He pushes forward again, capturing Michael’s lips with a smile.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Michael stares back at him as they separate, confusion written in the way his brow is crinkled, but Alex can’t stop smiling at how much Michael has opened up to him this morning. It’s been six months since they got married, and a year since they finally decided they’d both had enough of not being together. And yet every day, he feels like he learns something new about the man that he loves. This man that stole his heart at seventeen, and never let it go. Who changed his entire life’s plan to protect Isobel, because she needed to be looked after.

Giving Michael happy memories now, being able to make new ones together is all he can ask for. Because both of them have their share of the bad ones, and he’s more than aware of his own that will rear their ugly head when the time comes, but he knows that when it happens, Michael will be right there beside him waiting until he’s ready to share.

#roswell new mexico #malex fic #malex #the guerins #alex manes #michael guerin #notso writes fanfic #yotp 2023

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pastelwitchling · 2 years

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The scene I wish had been in 4x04.

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Michael scrolled through his phone, the heat beating on the nape of his neck and down his shirt as he kept his head bent over the screen. Once or twice he thought he saw a typing bubble come up, but he blinked and it was gone, and he knew he’d just imagined it.

He updated and updated, but no matter how hard he stared or willed a text to come in, Alex just seemed too busy to respond.

“C’mon, Manes,” he murmured, his piece of the alien necklace all but vibrating in his pocket, desperate to be with its other half. Much like Michael felt ready to crawl out of his skin without Alex there to steady him.

He’d thought he could handle it, he’d thought Alex would be back before he knew it, but it had been two weeks, and Michael was close to losing his mind. He had just gotten back from seeing Bonnie and Clyde, and after hours of having forgotten to check his phone, he’d hoped that he’d open it to see a message from his boyfriend. But no. Just like it had been since Alex had left, he hadn’t sent back a single word.

Then again, this was Alex, wasn’t it? The sooner he finished the sooner he got to come back, and Alex wanted to be back with Michael as much as Michael wanted to be back with him. He was just focusing. He was an ex-Air Force captain, after all, and he liked to do things perfectly, and Michael loved him all the more for it. He just wished he would answer a call now and then.

“Hey!” Michael heard right before a fist bumped his head.

“Ow!” he stood, glaring at Walt. “Damn it, old man, stop hitting me, will ya?”

“Then maybe you can take two minutes to do your damn job!” Walt demanded, and looked down at Michael’s phone, having just realized he had it out. “Replaced it already?” he scoffed. “Boy, you sure must be eager to talk to your man, huh?”

Michael felt a heat in his cheeks for reasons other than the afternoon sun. “I just didn’t want him to worry.”

He hummed. “He doesn’t look like the one worrying to me.”

Michael clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he looked back down at the screen. “I know Alex is fine.”

“That why you’ve been holding onto that thing like it’s the ring of power?” At Michael’s raised brows, Walt scowled. “Yeah, jackass, I read. You might want to try it once in a while.”

“Great,” Michael smiled tightly. “We done?”

“Look,” Walt’s voice softened, “I get it, kid, you miss him, but this worrying isn’t gonna help.”

“I’m not worried,” Michael argued. “I just know Alex, okay?”

“And you miss him,” he retorted. “Is that so hard for you to admit?”

“Fine!” he snapped. “I miss him, okay? I miss him like hell, I can barely freakin’ sleep when he’s not there, and I hate that he won’t answer my calls. I miss him, and . . .” he huffed, “I know I shouldn’t worry, but I am. Happy?”

He slumped down on the steps to the airstream, deflated, as Walt chuckled, his arms crossed. “That you finally found someone you love this much? Sorta.” He leaned against the trailer next to him, one ankle hooked over the other. “If you’re worried, why not just go to Deep Sky and ask his boss? I’m sure they’ve gotta be keepin’ in touch.”

Michael smirked humorlessly, and his next words sounded feral to his own ears. “If Alex isn’t talking to me, he’s definitely not talking to anybody else.” He stood, shaking his head. “Forget it, I’m just – I’m overreacting. Alex is fine.”

“You sure about that?”

“He has to be,” Michael demanded, his voice more a growl. “Because if he’s not . . . if someone put a finger on him, there’s nowhere they can run. Believe me,” he turned quiet, “the world doesn’t want to see what happens if someone tries to take Alex away from me.”

Walt’s expression was unreadable, but Michael had already turned away, his fingers trembling on his phone. But not with fear. It was anger – rage at the very thought of someone hurting Alex to get to him.

Whatever he’d told Walt, Michael had spent enough time away from Alex, and now the thought of him getting kidnapped had latched onto his brain. Reaching into his pocket, Michael pulled the glass necklace out and hung it around his neck, needing its faint pulsing to steady himself. He got into his truck, hoping that the necklace would help Alex somehow feel him wherever he was, and left the junkyard to Walt’s knowing eyes.

Even as he drove to Deep Sky, Michael knew that his concern was irrational. Alex getting kidnapped as soon as he’d left Roswell, as soon as he’d left Michael’s side . . . what were the odds?

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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survivor-trinidad-and-tobago · 10 months

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Episode 15: "ACQUIESCE BABY!!!"—Kaleigh

In this round: Everyone acquiesces to Kaleigh's spelling superiority when she wins her second individual immunity; Kaleigh steals Zee's vote; and Zee joins the jury

Zee

Whaddup my name's Jared I'm 19 and I never fuckin learned how to read

Michael

Honestly not much to report! I'm going to try and stay strong with Alex and Kaleigh. Tony left but I'm sure that's a big relief for him, he did great for his first game.

Jack

Hey babes, so I’m SOOO HAPPY to be back and I’m with my hot gurlzzz and I love them. Im so happy Tony got out cause he didn’t vote w me (that’s what he gets 😌). At this point anyone but me, champ, or zee going home is the best for my game cause it’s gonna be a 3-3 tie. IM READY FOR ROCKS☠️😈

Kaleigh

woooooo another immunity win, i woulda been so shocked if someone could beat me at a spelling bee. ACQUIESCE BABY!!! my deranged cobwebby brain is good at one thing and one thing only… and that’s spelling. i’m jk i’m good at other things too but wow lol ok. so i’m immune tonight. zee is asking me and alex to flip on michael, and its just condescending at this point :( like i know what i’m doing babe and idgaf if u think michael is gonna win. i’m fine with that LMAO why would i flip on my allies to be at the bottom of ur 3? like? no??? but i told her it’s a possibility but i think i’ll probably just steal a vote tonight and get zee out. please god don’t let her have another stinking advantage !! also i finished that book and it was extremely good. and it’s my niece’s 4th birthday.

Alex

Ugh, this vote still feels tenuous. Champ said today she wanted to take Zee out last vote (not that it would have mattered, ultimately - I KNEW she had a second idol lol). She's flat out lied to me so many times at this point, but she also knows how big of a threat Zee is. Finding the time to actually talk game with her feels like it will be impossible, though. I finally reached out to Zee last night to compliment her on still trying to unify the tribe like with the game night. She used the words 'icing out' to describe how quiet chat has been between sides, which is fair. I don't know if it was directed only at me, but even if that wasn't what I was trying to do I can see how she felt that way. It just felt like there was not even, like, pretended level of potential to work together and I didn't know how to bridge the gap of "hey even though we won't tell each other anything in-game, how's life?" and have it not seem disingenuous. So I'm glad that came out of last night. The Tony blindside definitely surprised me, and Jack coming back into the game over Colin. It really feels like it's Champ or bust with this vote but if we come to the risk of rocks, I see them possibly flipping. Now that I'm at Actual Final 6 I don't actually want to go to rocks anymore lol. It just feels like if we can get through tomorrow's vote we could get the rest of the way but who knows. If Zee has a third idol I'll lose my mind lmao. The way Kaleigh's still got her steal a vote and idol and I'm sitting over here with my flopped advantages. Sigh. Kind of incredible of her to only have one vote against her so far AND IT'S FROM ME. She's killing it. Wait. Do I have the most votes out of our 3? I do! Well, that's something I guess. Maybe I could have played a more fluid game, and tried to get the majority alliance to eat each other from the inside of it, but there's no point in thinking about that now. I'm at Final 6 and that's very neat.

Champ

I’m running late again for the confession, anyways here for a good time! Not a long time LMFAO

Zee

Haven't heard from Jack all day, Champ messaged once. I'm pretty sure I'm going home tonight

Tribal Council

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Zee: LOST VOTE

Champ: Alex (ROCKS ROCKS ROCKS)

Kaleigh: Zee (IF YOU HAVE A THIRD IDOL ISTG)

Kaleigh (Zee’s Stolen Vote): Zee

Alex: Zee (You’ve played SUCH a good game, and for all I know, you could still be here after this vote. It genuinely wouldn’t surprise me lmao. But here’s hoping this works. I enjoyed our pre-swap talks.)

Michael: Zee (you’ve played a wonderful game, sorry we didn’t really play together but that’s how it goes 🤷🏾‍♂️)

Jack: Alex (sorry babes we ain’t working together)

#episodes #Youtube

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lovecolibri · 1 year

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SaL anon here friend and while KR may try and very well might suck the joy out of the rest of this season I refuse to let her take away the joy of this last episode, so its song time!! And in honor of the lovely, poignant Chim and Ravi storyline this episode, I think we should talk about The Projectionist. Admittedly I honed in on this one because Chim's "hand it off" to Ravi gave me strong "we're leaving our shadows behind us now" vibes, but the closure they both got definitely felt summed up nicely by "makes us brave again". There start of this one made me think of Chimney Begins, and the "truth is heavier than fiction" struck hard for him and Ravi's story (which for some reason happened entirely off screen and was never mentioned 😠😠😠), so hope you enjoy this one too!!

Also no regrets on you roping me into 911!! Its been frustrating lately but its also has been gratifying seeing what a well thought out drama can be, especially in a wee woo show which normally wouldn't be on my radar. And like you said, we survived RNM and while I may have a lot to bitch about in these last 2 seasons, it hasn't reached that level of terrible with the incredible speed RNM managed it to. Actually now that I think of it all (Eddie getting sidelined reminding me of Alex, Buck's reconned growth being like Michael, BT drug on even though it was painful to watch exactly like you know what, the constant praise of L and inserting her where she isn't needed....) bestie I think I know where KR gets her "ideas" from (hopefully I didn't just totally corrupt our song post)!!

Oh I'm glad you've got a song for me because I am very busy trying to be "I do not see, I do not perceive" about this new woman but naturally no one ever tags for anything so the constant stream of "oh god, they're soooo cute together! She's soooo pretty! I don't mind if we don't get Buddie if he's with her!" (while knowing zero things about what kind of person she is beyond her looks. How very progressive and feminist of you 🙄)

ANYWAY, I started on a fic, wrote some smut for the first time ever, and I'm getting ready to go chill and work on puzzles and paint my nails. Agreed that this show still is able to deliver sometimes which is more than we ever got with RNM after that last episode of season 1 tanked things and never recovered, so at least there's that!

So in the spirit of focusing on the good stuff, lets talk about Ravi and Chim!

When I was young, I fell in love with story With the eleventh hour, with the blaze of glory The theatre lights dim and all goes quiet In the darkest of rooms, light shines the brightest

This is such a good song because it's all about the love of movies and storytelling which is SO good for Chim since we know he's a movie buff! I'm also thinking of little baby Ravi being so sick who probably spent a lot of time in hospital beds, watching movies and imagining being somewhere else. BRB gotta go cry about that for a minute. Also, the idea of falling in love with the last minute save and them both having jobs that are intense and they have seconds to save people, and how this show has a foundation of hope and that light shining through even when things look dark and hopeless.

When hands are tied and clocks are ticking An audience convinced: we're leaning in Holding our breath again Just when we thought the game was over The music lifts and our dying soldier lives And we breathe a sigh of relief we’re leaving, we’re leaving our shadows behind us now. we’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now.

This ties into the hope of the show too, of us the audience holding our breaths through these rescues and breathing a sigh of relief with the character when they pull off a save. But I'm also thinking about holding my breath through Ravi's story and how he thought he was pulling off this heroic save, but not only did he lose a child, he save the man that was trying to kill his kids. He didn't get to have that sigh of relief and he's still be holding his breath this whole time until Chim lets him know it's okay to breathe again.

I love that talk with Chim and Ravi and you're right it fits so perfectly with that last line, and learning to leave those shadows behind so they can work on saving the next one.

but even dust was made to settle and if we’re made of dust, then what makes us any different? i guess we give what we’ve been given: a family tree so very good at giving up when we’ve had enough. though truth is heavier than fiction, gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls tape. and it makes us brave again and it makes us brave again and it makes us brave.

I love that line “even dust was made to settle/and if we’re made of dust, then what makes us any different?” like, nature is pulling everything to settle and you need to accept it and let the shadow go and settle in the with dust where you belong. AND THEN!! You have that brilliant line “I guess we give what we’ve been given: a family tree so very good at giving up when we’ve had enough” like !!! That’s Chim!! He has this family that just gave up on trying to deal with him, and he finally, to protect himself, gave up on trying to reach out to them. And even now, we see that he’s trying to let the hurt go, but he’s not expending any more energy on that relationship. But compare that with Chim and his firefam and his job! He NEVER gives up! He pushes back against a bad captain to make sure Hen has a place, he pushes Hen and Karen because he knows how good they are for each other, he pushes Buck and Bobby, he goes after Maddie because he knows that she needs some space but she also needs to know that he is right there waiting for her when she’s ready.

Then of course you have that whole “truth is heaver than fiction” bit which strikes me as Chim having to pull back from the “movie” aspect of the job (something that inspired Buck to join as well and a lesson he also had to learn) because it’s not always easy to brush off when the perfect movie save doesn’t happen and a patient it lost. It’s not always easy when the one you save is the one that was hurting the one who didn’t make it. But facing that truth, letting it be heavy, letting it carry weight and learning to not let the weight drag you down, is what it means to be brave and do the job.

so we’re leaving, we’re leaving our shadows behind us now. we’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now. and it makes us brave again and it makes us brave. we’re leaving, we’re leaving ‘em all behind for now.

I love this song, I just listened to it the other day and it was such a good one for this week! Chim and Ravi’s conversations really felt like them making the choice to be brave and leave those shadows behind and I love love loved seeing Ravi welcomed back to the firefam with open arms. This episode was a real highlight this season for me, so I’m so happy we got to talk about a song for this one. All the love for Chim and Ravi!

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#my sweet nonnie friends #911 #911 spoilers #sleeping at last #the projectionist #howie han #ravi panikkar

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skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years

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A Small Piece of Domesticity

I thought of this little Malex scene the other day while I was doing a long drive home from work and it's sickeningly sweet. Hope you like diabetes suckers cause this scene is brought to you by the Sugar and Sacchrine devision of SkinSharpenedTeeth Co. Enjoy!

(Also readable on Ao3 bc of course it is)

Most of the time, Alex Manes kept his house reasonably clean. Military life had given him an appreciation for clutterless countertops and losing half a leg had driven in a need to keep all pathways clear so when Michael let himself into Alex’s house to find pieces of clothing strewn in a line towards the bedroom, he was allowed to feel mildly alarmed. His alarm turned to amusement as he followed the trail to find Alex perfectly fine and dead-to-the-world asleep. It wasn’t often that Michael could sneak up on Alex and observe him without him getting flustered and inventing a reason to make Michael stop looking. So now that he had the time, Michael took his fill for a moment. He could tell Alex had probably had a bad day by how quickly he’d stripped, just to lay spread eagle across the bed on his back with his noise-canceling headphones on. Michael could see that his hair was damp from a shower and he’d only gotten dressed in a pair of black boxer-briefs and an undershirt. The tower fan they kept in the room was whirring steadily from the side of the bed, directly across Alex’s body. It’d been hot outside that day, a sweltering August day in the desert, and now the sun was setting, but Michael could still feel the baked warmth of the outer walls radiating inward.

Michael decided he’d leave Alex alone so he could shower his own long, hot day off. Feeling incredibly soft towards the man on the bed, Michael turned and made his way into the bathroom, picking up Alex’s discarded clothes out of the hall as he went, and stuffing them into the hamper before continuing with his own ablutions. As he washed, he tried to concentrate on figuring out dinner and what he needed to do before work tomorrow, but his mind kept wandering back to Alex laid out on the bed like an offering. Shutting off the water, Michael got out of the shower and hastily toweled his hair and body. Finished, he wrapped his towel around his hips and went back into the bedroom. Alex was in the same position as before, arms still spread wide, legs splayed over the cover, eyes closed and dark red headphones still in place.

Michael walked into the room, noting how the orange glow of the setting sun looked against Alex’s skin, and went to stand at the end of the bed. Leaning over, he placed his hands on Alex’s warm, naked thighs and squeezed them lightly to wake Alex up. Alex’s eyes opened and he zeroed in on Michael. Michael smiled up at him and then felt his insides explode with happiness as Alex smiled softly back at him. Alex reached up and pulled his headphones off his head, pushing them over onto the pillow next to him.

“Hey,” he croaked, before clearing his throat and speaking again in a clearer voice. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Michael answered, smirking up at him. He rubbed his hands up and down the firm muscles of Alex’s legs before continuing. “Can anyone join this no-pants party?”

“It’s not really a party unless there’s more than one person,” Alex retorted, half crunching up and reaching down to beckon Michael up to him. Michael loosened his towel and let it fall to the floor before he crawled onto the mattress between Alex’s legs. He could feel Alex’s eyes roving over him, but Michael kept his eyes on where his hands were pushing up the length of Alex’s body. Michael pushed up Alex’s shirt to expose his stomach and immediately nosed the center crease of his abs, inhaling a familiar smell that made his own stomach clench in appreciation.

“Mmm, you used my soap,” Michael commented before laying an open-mouthed kiss above the waistband of Alex’s underwear. One of Alex’s hands combed through Michael’s half-dried curls as he hummed in agreement. Michael pressed up into the pressure of Alex’s hand for a moment before curling his fingers under Alex’s waistband and pulling it further down so he could kiss into the valleys that led from Alex’s hips to where Michael really wanted his mouth to be.

“Yeah, I ran out. I need to buy some more,” Alex replied, voice breathy and distracted. Michael glanced up to see his gaze solely focused on where Michael’s lips hovered over his skin. When he caught Michael watching him, Alex tugged gently at his hair and pulled him up until they could share a kiss. It was like honey and fire between them. Alex cupped the back of Michael’s neck, massaging the sore muscles, while his free hand roamed over all the naked skin at his disposal. Michael hummed in pleasure and settled himself half on top of Alex’s body, enjoying the contrast between where his clothes separated their skin and where it did not.

“How was your day?” Michael asked when they parted for air. He laid his head close to Alex’s, sharing his pillow and letting his fingers trace indistinct patterns across the still exposed skin of Alex’s hip and stomach. Alex shut his eyes as if he needed to stop looking at Michael to put his words in the correct order to answer.

“Long. The a/c in the Explorer needs to be recharged. Reyes had me do some field work today testing a couple hypotheses on the Lockhart Machine and it involved a lot of sweating and standing in the sun. So when I got home I was dirty and caked in salt and tired. My leg was killing me. I took a shower and some pain meds and then laid down. What time is it?” Alex asked, starting to lift up to look over at the bedside clock. Michael stilled him with a hand to his chest.

“It’s around seven. That sound miserable. Do you work tomorrow?” Michael asked, bringing Alex’s attention back to himself and relishing the feeling of Alex’s body relaxing under him again.

“Yeah, we gotta finish up the experiments and I have to write some reports. Shouldn’t be as bad as today,” Alex replied easily. The hand that had been resting on Michael’s neck moved fluidly up into his hair, combing through the damp curls and making Michael feel like a well-treated house pet.

“Take the truck. I’ll take the Explorer into the shop and recharge the A/C,” Michael offered, eyes sliding shut at the continued sensation of Alex’s hand sliding through his hair. He shifted his head closer to Alex’s shoulder so his chin could touch the warm cotton of his shirt. They laid like that, silent for a few minutes, fingers and hands slow, but restless against each other; taking and sharing comfort in the primary language between them.

“Let’s order dinner. The idea of moving right now sucks.” Alex’s voice reached Michael from what seemed like further away, and he realized that he’d started to fall asleep. He shifted his body infinitesimally closer to Alex’s, hand hugging his waist, foot snaking under Alex’s calf to twist their legs further together, and face positioned close enough to nuzzle and kiss the soft, sensitive skin under Alex’s ear.

“Sounds good. I don’t want to move either,” Michael replied. He could feel the tension in Alex’s body rise as he spoke, the smoldering fire between them heating up and threatening to burst back into flame if Michael pressed it. Alex had said he’d taken his pain pills though, and Michael had learned that meant that parts of Alex weren’t likely to fully participate if he started something between them. He didn’t want to tease Alex like that, but he also couldn’t deny enjoying the way Alex’s grip changed against his skin when he placed seemingly innocent kisses against his neck, making sure the stubble on his chin scratched against Alex as his lips moved.

“You’re a filthy tease,” Alex accused from above him, fingers digging into Michael’s hair and tugging reprovingly. Michael smiled and moved his face away from Alex’s neck so he could grin full in Alex’s face.

“You like it,” he retorted. Alex was grinning back at him. He lifted his head to press their lips together, wringing a devastating kiss from Michael before keeping him from chasing as he pulled away.

“I love it. I love you,” Alex replied, easily. As if it had always been easy to say to Michael how much he loved him. Michael sighed and rested his head back on the pillow beside Alex’s head.

“I love you, too. Let’s order Chinese,” he offered. And that was that. They were back to smoldering and domesticity. They didn’t have to desperately cling to every trace of affection and attraction anymore because it was always there, under the surface, ready for them. There was no fear of losing it because of an unguarded word or action. They were home for each other.

#malex #malex fic #rnm fic #michael guerin #alex manes #fluff #sugar and sacchrine #cotton candy fluffy stuff #alex and michael sittin in a tree #k-i-s-s-i-n-g #first comes love #then comes separation #then comes misunderstandings and hurt feelings #then comes grand love declarations #then comes some other shit we don't know yet #then comes this domestic love scene where they're perfect #so says i #*bangs gavel*

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ashesandhalefire · 3 years

Text

progress report: i am missing you to death

alex, michael, and a lot of unsaid things.

inspired by an entirely out of context teaser shot of alex and a desperate need for interaction that has yet to be satisfied by season 3 canon.

Deep Sky provides the coordinates and the time, so Alex shows up and waits.

While he stands in the cool night air, he scans the flat terrain that stretches out to one side and the gully where the highway sits. Other than the whizzing traffic, oblivious to his insignificance, everything is quiet.

After about twenty minutes of the vibrating stillness, Michael slinks out of the shadows with his hat tucked low over his face and leans against the back of the car beside Alex’s SUV.

Blood rushing in his ears, Alex does a second quick sweep of the lot’s perimeter. Nothing obvious has changed in the shadows since he crept through the bushes to check potential sight lines, but Alex isn’t stupid. He was in over his head when Project Shepherd turned out to be just his father’s backroom hobby. Deep Sky outclasses his expertise in a way he isn’t ready to reckon with. They could be anywhere—somewhere in the lot, somewhere down the road, somewhere miles away—and Michael has sauntered directly into their crosshairs.

He left about five feet between them when he stopped to hook one ankle over the other and stare out at the traffic, and the distance is enough for deniability. Alex tightens his hands into anxious fists and forces a long, deep breath through his nose.

“Hey,” Michael says with a casual nod of his head. They stand listening to the roar of tires chewing their ways along the desert highway, and Alex waits for a sign. He checks Michael’s chest for the red point of a laser sight just in case. Nothing happens. They stand a little longer, and then Michael leans over and asks, “You got a light?”

“No. You got a cigarette?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth twitches. It stirs up a fondness that Alex has carefully and surgically distanced himself from for the last few months, and he glances around the parking lot again. Being in love with Michael is too easy. He falls into it without needing to think about it or to try, and the laziness of trusting things to fate is probably why they’ve never gotten it right. He should probably consider himself lucky. Sinking back into those feelings now, fruitlessly, after so much time has passed, will make him sloppy in a way he can’t afford.

“You shouldn’t be here. They could see you.”

Michael tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugs, easy and unbothered. Or, almost unbothered. The muscles in his jaw are tight and tense. “You don’t even know what they do or if they’re looking for me. I haven’t exactly been hiding for the last year.”

“That doesn’t mean you should paint a bullseye on your chest.”

“But you should?”

Michael spits barbs like an old man working his way through seeded melon, careless and precise in equal measure. He always finds soft flesh.

“This isn’t a game,” Alex grits out, face growing hot with frustration. He watches a tractor trailer speed by on the road below and shoot a piece of trash out from beneath its tires.

“So tell me what it is, then,” Michael says, mouth turning down and voice suddenly going sharp as a knife’s edge, “because I didn’t really wait around to hear the rest of the story after Valenti said you were joining a cult.”

Alex looks over, and Michael’s brow is pinched to match the irritated wrinkle of his nose. Anger and tension leak off him like heat shimmers off the pavement at midday. He holds his casual posture, ankles crossed and hands tucked, but his eyes are furious.

“It’s complicated.”

Michael scoffs. “You know what, I shouldn’t bother. I should just drag your ass home, no questions.”

And now Alex’s temper flares: “Try it.”

“You think I wouldn’t? To save you?” He laughs meanly. “I’d have you over my shoulder so fucking fast—”

“I don’t need to be saved.”

“Obviously, you do.” Michael pushes off the car. The brim of his hat catches the light from the lamppost and casts half his face in shadows. “We have enough problems on our hands right now. We don’t need to poke the bear.”

“This bear poked first,” Alex says, equally furious. He checks behind Michael before hissing through his teeth, “They kidnapped Mimi. They drugged Jenna Cameron. Turnabout is fair play.”

“This isn’t turnabout! This isn’t even revenge. You’re joining their club. You are flinging yourself into a pit, Alex. A big, dark, deep pit, and when you get far enough in, none of us are going to be able to get you out. We’re gonna lose you. For good. And for no fucking reason.”

“Not for no reason,” Alex says. A tingle of shame trickles up the back of his neck. He knows he’s unprepared, going in without an exit strategy. But he can’t sit on his hands and do nothing. It makes him nervous and paranoid to be idle. “They know things.”

“Who gives a shit? Who gives one fucking iota of a shit about what they know?”

Alex frowns. “You have always wanted to know more—”

“Not like this! Not at the risk of—” Michael puts a fist to his forehead. Then he pulls off his hat and takes another step closer. His voice is softer when he speaks. “Why are you so hellbent on doing this, huh? This isn’t just your dad anymore. This is bigger than that.”

“I know.”

“They are gonna swallow you whole, and what’s the point if you’re just gone?”

Alex draws another long inhale through his nose. The weight of the thick, ugly ring on his finger feels like an anchor dragging him down. The memories of Caulfield crumbling to pieces in a cloud of fire are heavier. “If there’s even a chance that they know something, what choice do I have? I’m not getting caught off guard again. I owe you that much.”

“Bullshit,” Michael says with a jerk of his chin. “Doing it is one thing, but don’t pretend you’re doing it for me.” A pair of low-riding sports cars scream down the highway behind him, bobbing and weaving through the minimal traffic with their engines blaring. One falters behind a gas tanker and then chases its companion off towards the horizon with an roar. “If you had any interest in doing something for me, you would stay.”

Cold uncertainty creeps into Alex’s chest, and no number of layers can keep it out. He wants to ask: would I be welcome? Because he hasn’t felt like he would be in a long time. He had showed up, again and again. Sometimes, he had been wanted, and sometimes, he hadn’t been. The haze of open mic night had cleared for an instant, and the future had been visible, tangible, workable, and then, just as quickly, had vanished into the air. He had been left with Isobel’s obvious, humiliating pity, her mouth turned down as she stood to listen through the last note. That door had been closed. And yet, he wants to ask: would I be welcome? Dignity be damned.

“Are— are you asking me to stay?”

There must be something in his voice when he says it, no matter how hard he tries to control the pathetic wavering and the sunken surprise on his face, that means something to Michael. His whole body eases forward as if carried by an invisible current before he catches himself and says, “I’m done asking people for more than they’re willing to give me.”

“But you would ask? If you thought—?” Alex pushes. “You would want to ask?”

The corners of Michael’s mouth turn down and his gaze narrows almost imperceptibly, but Alex is watching for it. The more Michael closes off, the more Alex feels himself splitting open. Something bright and electric stirs in his chest.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t,” he says, waiting for the moment when Michael’s eyes widen, just slightly, just enough to understand. It comes, exactly as expected, and Michael sways closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d ask. I’m not about to beg, but I’d ask.”

He’s gotten Michael to beg before, but never for something as serious as love. On his back or on his knees or in the bed of his truck, Alex has heard him plead and bargain for things he wants in the neediest, most desperate whispers, but that had been all carnal, base pleasure, and he had known Alex wouldn’t tell him no. Here, he’s talking about a different type of submission, the kind that humiliates someone like Michael, someone who has never been given enough. Michael won’t beg, and Alex needs to be asked, and a lot of time has been wasted between them thinking that one is the same as the other.

He can’t say he’ll stay. He’s too far in to back out. And, even if he could do it, staying doesn’t mean riding off into the sunset. It means more of the same: the secrets, the conspiracies, the mysteries, the agonies, the scraping open of old wounds in last-ditch efforts to heal them. But it also means Michael, so everything else is white noise.

Michael sees it all play out on his face. He sets his hat on the roof of Alex’s car and then turns to lean against the hatchback. He sighs, and Alex can tell that more weight than usual is resting on his shoulders. It’s not just Max dragging him under. His whole body sags with it, and the sharp focus that’s been in his eyes begins to recede as he drifts away towards the call of whatever nightmare is lurking at the back of his mind.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex says because he lacks for anything else to say, and Michael stares at his boots with a sad smile. His throat bobs as he swallows down whatever it is that’s too hard to talk about with so little time left to say it, and then he turns to look at Alex.

“Your dad was a piece of shit,” he says, like this is some sort of revelation, “and you’re you.”

The words, said like an accusation, should probably turn his stomach, but they’re also said with a reverence that pushes Alex’s heart up into his throat. Whatever is happening has rocked Michael to his core far beyond how Alex knows to help.

“Less of a piece of shit, I hope.”

Michael stares at him, flexing his hand, and then says, with a nod, “Significantly, yeah.”

“I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” Alex laughs, and then he tips his head back to look at the starless sky. “I’ll take being afraid of being like him over being proud of being like him any day. At least it means I’m going in the right direction.”

Jesse haunts Alex differently than he haunts Michael. To Michael, Jesse is another human face that did something terrible to him, just more proof that looking for another planet to run to is a good idea. Jesse is a more specific phantom for Alex, much harder to let blur into the background of the general awfulness of life. There are reminders of his father all around town: placards, photographs, the sign for the street they lived on, a six-foot statue in town square. Those can be faced much more easily than the hints of his father that Alex finds in the mirror: the deep-set wrinkles in his brows, the cut of his mouth when he frowns, the tone of his voice when he yells, the shape of his thumb. To be a little less like him every day is an exhausting but necessary struggle.

Michael smiles, and Alex, mystified, thinks maybe he managed to help after all.

“Your plan wasn’t really to drag me home over your shoulder, was it?” he asks to distract from how Michael carefully swipes a finger at the corner of one eye.

Michael huffs, and the car jostles. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just wasn’t about to let you go without—” He licks his lips and says, “I wasn’t about to let you just go.”

Alex scuffs his shoe against the loose gravel. “Couldn’t get Kyle’s hubcaps off this time?”

Guilt settles over him after he says it. Guilt and something else, something like the relief of setting down a heavy burden that’s been carried too long.

“I thought you were making a mistake back then, too.” Michael takes the comment in stride, accepts it, and reaches out to touch the ring on Alex’s hand. He pinches it carefully, Alex’s fingers curled into the heat of his palm, and rolls his thumb until the ring twists to expose the thinner underside of the band. He strokes, skin then metal then skin, over and over. “Flinging yourself into some dark pit that you’d never come out of again.”

Alex wants to tell him that this is different. He can’t.

“Do me a favor, okay?”

Hand slipping up over Alex’s wrist and into the soft corner of his elbow, Michael crosses the final inches of space between them and pulls Alex close. In the dim light of the parking lot, they might be mistaken for the sort of strangers who meet in shadowy corners for quick exchanges of misery with rough words and rougher touch. But then Michael, trembling, touches the lapel of Alex’s jacket and presses a long kiss to his cheek.

He keeps his mouth there, breath hot and soft, and, before he gathers himself enough to continue, Alex says, “I’ll come back.”

Michael laughs, but it sounds like a gasp for air. “Not even gonna let me ask?”

Alex hums. “I’ll come back.”

“Yeah, you’ll come back,” Michael warns, “or I’ll come get you. And it won’t be fucking subtle.”

It sends a shiver down his spine to think of Michael storming a place as infinitely large as Deep Sky feels. If it comes to that, he’d be better off left behind. But as the thought comes, Michael’s grip shifts and the tentative press of their sides becomes a full-bodied hug that envelopes him like a warm breeze. His nose turns into the side of Michael’s neck: rain, crisp and fresh; gasoline, but faint; smoke, from his fire pit.

“I’m not really going anywhere. It’ll be fine.”

Michael squeezes, and Alex squeezes back. Everything else he wants to say is too big for this moment. And, selfishly, he wants to know that Michael will wait to hear it. He scolds himself for the thought, because they’ve each done their share of waiting miserably at the wayside, but then he lets it stand. Michael squeezes again, fingertips digging into separate points as he clings.

Alex cups a hand to the back of his head and touches his curls. He thinks about what it would mean to kiss Michael now, to kiss someone that he loves, who loves him, and imagines a tower of precariously stacked dominoes. Michael laughs wetly, and Alex lets go first, fingers lingering reluctantly.

#malex fic #malex #roswell new mexico #michael x alex #my fic #i read the jungle; the grapes of wrath; and another country in less than two weeks. idt my writing style even knows which way is up rn #but i had to Produce Something or i was going to go crazy so :/

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gra-sonas · 3 years

Photo

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Was the year time jump because of the pandemic? To sidestep making that too central to the plot, or was that always the plan?

JEANINE MASON: That was always our intention and it was just sort of a saving grace in that way. We also don't acknowledge the pandemic in real-time on our show. There are no masks and that was just so wonderful just to get work in that way and have that time where it was a little more normal. Also, that's just our show — we want you to come to us the way you always do, which is for nineties nostalgia, sexy Cowboys, brilliant scientists, you know? CHRIS HOLLIER: So we wanted to drop our characters in a year later, let them stew in their individual decisions that were made last season. We want everyone to root for our poster couple but we want to honor what happens in real life, which is sometimes you step away from that person, even if you are entwined with them in a very particular way. So we wanted it to be a real enough time and distance so that they could live a little life on their own.

With showrunner Carina Adly MacKenzie departing at the end of season 2, has much changed? Or are you still working with ideas she had in place?'

HOLLIER: It's a little bit of both. There are things that Carina and I built that live all the way through and then once the story got up on its feet, discoveries were made with our new crop of people that we were like, "Oh, we're going to bend it this other way."

Jeanine, how is Liz doing in her new life in L.A. when we pick up this season?

MASON: Well, it's been a year and at this point, her life is actually pretty great. She just hasn't taken a second to acknowledge that. She's doing what she does best, which is just full head in her work and trying to figure out what she could use of her discoveries and her brilliance to save Maria. She has a great job, a really nice place, and an awesome partner at work who is a good time and a real match for her in terms of intellect and ambition. He begins to ask her to recognize that and to maybe give something a chance that she's been reluctant to because of how drawn she is to Roswell and to Max. It's a fun first episode. It's sexy. It's fun to find opportunities for her. She's our hero so she's got a lot on her shoulders and anytime where we can find levity for her is always a real treat for the writers and for me.

And no Crashdown waitress uniform must be nice?

MASON: Honestly, I miss it quite a lot right now. I have a note in my notes with Chris, I'm like, "I gotta tell him we gotta find him more opportunities for it."

Should Liz and Max shippers be worried about them finding their way back to one another after he destroyed her work and didn't follow her to L.A.? Should we resign ourselves to a season apart?

MASON: This season really is about these characters having themselves mirrored to each other. Max and Liz need some growing and ultimately they can't do anything but be orbiting each other. We found so many opportunities to have such a beautiful language around the cosmic element of their connection. They're asking, "Is this our decision, or are we just acting off of a decision that the cosmos made for us?" It was so fun to navigate that. I always have such a good time with Chris Hollier and with Nathan Dean, just finding the little tiny notches, a tiny bit of movement towards where they're going next. I really loved following them. It's my favorite Max and Liz season to date.

HOLLIER: It's not a season apart. I'll tease that they, in an unexpected way, end up in front of each other relatively soon. But it's really about when am I ready? And what does it mean to talk to my ex? When someone makes such a big influence in your life, when do you know it's over and when do you know you should fight again? We tried to give them real grown-up lives.

Steven Krueger (The Originals) also joined the cast as Heath this season. What can you tease about his character?

HOLLIER: He's just an awesome human being. I know him from The Originals and we were like, "If we're going to have to be stuck with people in the desert, who do we want?" You want to be stuck with a handsome and lovely and charming Steven Krueger. So really this was looking at, "Well, what did Liz want and what does it look like when you start to give Liz versions of what she wants?" Heath is somebody that is beyond being just a lovely person, he is smart and wants to advance science and that's appealing to Liz. It becomes, "What does it look like when the man that I hang around with all day is also into the same things that I am?" MASON: I love him. Heath is just such a fun, whip-smart, fantastic character. His humor was so fun. We've been having a good time with kicking the humor up really through season two and in season three, we just took it up another notch. There are some moments that are like, "Is this a drama or is it a sitcom?" Looking back on it, he was such a fun partner to spar with. They're both such intellectual characters and I love that there's a real meeting of the minds. It makes it competitive and sexy. I know a lot of fans are so excited because they know him from The Originals and he's going to be a great addition.

Technically, Mr. Jones is a new character too. Can you tell us anything at all about him?

HOLLIER: I'd say he's a new character — and a fully-fleshed interesting new character. Mr. Jones has an awesome beard. At some point, he might lose that beard. A lot of people are asking me, "Is Jones good or bad?" And what I would argue is that's a perspective based upon who you are in the conversation that you're having with him. He knows a lot about our heroes' story and he knows a lot about home. He'll be able to answer questions for them. This season our heroes will get to learn why they ended up here on earth. One of the things I think that people will love is that they're going to get to see that home planet this year. We asked ourselves a lot about this whole season, "What have we set up for the past two?" We look at these first three seasons almost like a trilogy so a lot of things are going to be paid off.

Has Nathan enjoyed pulling double duty this season? Or is he just exhausted?

MASON: He's exhausted, but he's such a champ. That really is the beginning of this mirroring thing that starts with Max and Jones with him actually getting to look at himself to a degree and those questions that come up. The self-analysis that it provokes in him is really the beginning of what is happening to all of our characters this year; everybody's being confronted with themselves. I loved that the Max/Jones of it was also a real sci-fi element.

Did he really grow that beard or was that not possible if he had to go between the two characters?

MASON: That was a prosthetic beard and our makeup team killed it. He was not accustomed to early mornings, which, of course, all of us babes are. It was a lot of extra time in the chair for him.

Can Jones dupe Liz into thinking he's actually Max since she doesn't know he exists?

MASON: You're totally on to something. It's a real and pressing threat. I mean, she's totally in the dark and he looks like her cosmic lover!

HOLLIER: What I will say is that, Liz — beyond her being number one on the call sheet — is integral to this story in a way that she and none of our characters are going to perceive when they start episode one. We're bringing [the characters] to a new crossroads moment in their lives and they're getting, through Jones, a mirror into their own lives to decide what they're going to become next.

How's Rosa (Amber Midthunder) doing this season?

MASON: By the end of season two, Rosa really makes the decision to start taking care of herself. She really becomes an incredible asset to the Scooby-Doo gang. It's something that Liz is in constant adjustment to. As much as she's the younger sister, she feels very protective of her sister and Liz has had to make adjustments in her trust and faith in Rosa. I loved it because it just felt like a real personal, authentic thing that sisters would go through, but also that Hispanic sisters would go through. I think we sometimes, culturally, have a tendency to baby our women — maybe that's the wrong word — but just to underestimate their physical ability and what they might take on, and sort of 'queen' our women in a way where we treat them tenderly. I hate that. I'm a tough bitch and so is Rosa. So Liz has to confront that and go, "I'm an idiot to underestimate you. You've done nothing but prove me wrong."

What about Maria and her visions?

HOLLIER: This year I think Maria has the most complete arc of any season, as she recognizes things about herself that cause more questions about who she is, who her family is, how she's linked to this story. We dive into it in the present-day and we dive deliciously back in time too.

In the exclusive clip above we see her have a vision of a funeral, can you tease anything about who potentially might be about to die?

HOLLIER: Maria is front and center in driving the first half of the mystery for us. She's burdened with trying to figure out whose death she is seeing. It takes a few episodes to unravel and we use it to ask, is this linked to our supernatural stories or real-world stories that are going on politically? Is it bad luck? Is it herself? There's a whole gambit at play. We joke that we solved a past murder, now we're going to try to stop one.

Can Malex (Michael and Alex) shippers have hope that this might finally be their time?

HOLLIER: What I would say is that I think that Malex fans are really going to dig this journey. We, as writers, put them at the same level of importance as Max and Liz. So we wanted to really honor the next step in what they may or may not be. How did they grow up and how did they have those hard conversations just like Liz and Max are going to have?

Is Isobel going to continue to date women this season?

HOLLIER: Isobel is going to go on a more personal journey. You got to love yourself before you can love someone else. We lean into those possibilities by the end of who she might love. It's not something that is dropped all season — it is something that you'll see. We play some romantic comedy stuff with her character this year and with Maria that I think fans are gonna dig. There's a lot going on in the world and wanted to pump some humor and hope into it.

Will see more of Liz fighting to challenge the perception of the Latinx community?

MASON: I think that just by nature of it being one of such few shows that are led by a Latin woman, it's always going to be, to an extent, a protest or an assertion of the space that I get to fill and that Liz Ortecho gets to fill on network TV. I was really excited to just have Chris as a collaborator. Over our hiatus, before the season started, I was doing a lot of reading. I chronicled the books that play into Liz every season on my Instagram. I was reading some Sonia Sotomayor. Her book is just incredible. I was texting him screenshots of pages of the book with things underlined. Ten episodes deep into season 3, he's like, "Remember that page you sent me?" He's a real dream collaborator. I loved him for that. A pressing struggle for people of color is going through the ranks in these big corporations and then sometimes coming to find out that those corporations are purporting to support marginalized groups but actually aren't following through. So how do you, as someone who's having your success, your dreams become reality, navigate supporting the company and giving so much of your intelligence and your work — that they often legally own, especially with science — to a company that isn't going to be for your people?

Roswell, New Mexico returns Monday at 8 p.m. on The CW.

#long post is long #jeanine mason #chris hollier #liz ortecho #max evans #echo #isobel evans #rosa ortecho #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm spoilers #maria deluca #rnm cast interviews #roswell new mexico s3 #roswell new mexico

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thesquidkid · 3 years

Text

I was the match and you were the rock

This was supposed to be a very different fic, but Things We Lost In The Fire by Bastille came on, and this was born (also I listened to the song on repeat, so there may be some lyrics scattered around 😂)

It is also quite sad (at least I have tears in my eyes writing it), so I guess sorry? Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it! 😂 (Also on ao3)

Oh and there might be spoilers for the finale? With everything happening with the airstream.

Michael was sitting on the ground, back against his truck, in the middle of the junkyard, looking at his trailer go up in flames. All the people he cared about were besides him, Alex sitting on his right, rubbing his thigh. He had his arm around the other man, the two of them mourning the airstream and all the moments shared.

But more than just memories with Alex, the trailer held Michael’s life for over a decade. He knew the others were sad, but overall they all shared the same sense of joy - Jones was no more a threat. And as much as Michael wanted to celebrate, he also mentally counted how much everything would cost to replace, if he could live with Alex until he found a solution, how many other vehicles had been touched, how deep in debt Sanders Auto would be in.

“Out.” Sanders said, not leaving any place for discussion. He was standing, leaning against Michael’s truck, his leg touching Michael’s shoulder, a comforting presence.

When Michael had fallen to the ground seeing the flames, Sanders had kept standing, head high. But deep down, he was in a similar state to Michael - teary eye(s) and wet cheek(s), calculating the loss of money, the loss of small sentimental value. Because even if there wasn’t much in the airstream, it was all Michael’s, and Sanders had grown used to it being there, was even attached to the poor thing.

This is why he was asking everyone to leave. They didn’t belong in this place, and didn't understand what was truly happening. They wanted to celebrate the win against Jones - as they should - but they didn’t feel the same loss that Michael did.

Michael didn’t even register Sanders’ word, didn’t even hear the cars leaving, his ears still ringing from the explosion. He had gone into the airstream, to try to save anything, but it was too late, most of the inside had burnt down already, the outside shell starting to melt.

I will burn down everything you care about, Jones had said when they defeated him. At first, Michael didn’t understand. Alex was standing next to him, seemingly not on fire, Isobel and Max in a similar state. He even checked in with Sanders, called the old man to make sure he was okay, when the explosion happened. Michael had driven as fast as he could, rushing to the airstream, Alex shouting after him.

He didn’t see Alex running after him, forgetting for a moment that Michael was fireproof. It was only when Alex grabbed Michael’s hand inside the airstream, that Michael registered the dangerousity of Alex being here. Using his powers, he had pushed Alex out of there, but that didn’t stop both of them to still be coughing and Alex’s prosthetic needing to be replaced.

But neither of those things were at the front of Alex’s mind in that instant. Sitting on the ground, his leg in front of him, still hot from the fire, coughing once in a while, his only focus was Michael. Michael was okay, physically. The flames hadn’t burned him, and the coughing had stopped after a while. Emotionally, on the other hand, he knew that Michael was not okay. Even if he couldn’t fully understand how much the airstream meant to Michael, he knew that he was hurting, and wanted nothing more than to be there to comfort his boyfriend.

And so he stayed. When Sanders told the others to go, he looked up to the older man, who was only looking at the flames. He wondered if he should leave the two to be alone, to mourn, to check the damage, but he also knew that he was not going to leave Michael’s side for a few days, especially not after what happened with Jones.

The firefighters came, eventually. By then, nothing could be saved. Luckily, Michael had used his powers to push the remaining cars and various other inflammable objects present in the junkyard to the side.

When the firefighters left, having checked Alex, Michael and Sanders and advising them to go get checked out at the hospital, the three men were alone, the airstream’s creaking cutting through the night.

“You should head home,” Michael whispered to Alex, his eyes never leaving the airstream, “you need to rest your leg, I’ll join you in a bit.” He turned his head to meet Alex, who could see all the desperation, the sadness and the anger present in those golden eyes.

“You’re sure?” Alex asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Michael nodded, turning back to the airstream with a sniff. “We need to check for what can be covered by insurance, and what we’ll lose,” Sanders said with a gruff, turning his back to the airstream for the first time since the explosion.

Michael wiped his cheeks and turned around, facing Alex properly, who was sitting on the bed of the truck. From where he stood, Michael could see the airstream from the corner of his eye, could smell the burnt metal, could hear the cracks. He took Alex’s hands in his, “I’ll be home in a bit,” he said, his voice breaking, “I just need -” he went on in a sobb, dropping his head into Alex’s shoulder, who put his hand to Michael’s hair, in a comforting gesture.

It broke Alex’s heart to see this, to see Michael be so desperate, so lost, in such pain. “You need to make a list of what burned down,” Alex finished, knowing that this was important to Michael, both financially, and sentimentally. Who knew if Sanders Auto would even recover from such havoc. Alex just knew that he would do everything he could so that Michael wasn’t alone.

Michael sniffed into Alex’s shoulder, breaking Alex’s heart a little more, before standing up. He wiped his face with his hand, and breathed deeply, his hands still holding onto Alex’s.

Alex drove back home, putting his leg through one last painful challenge, before taking it off as soon as he sat on his couch, before texting Michael to let him know he had made it safe and sound.

Examining the prosthetic under a proper light, he could see that it was crooked, parts of it having melted in the heat. His stump was bright red and swollen, he made his way to the bathroom and warmed himself a bath, setting an alarm clock to get out of the water.

When the alarm rang, he dried himself and got dressed for bed, each step made with a wince. After taking two painkillers, he made his way to his bed, falling asleep as soon as he was under the covers.

He woke up when he felt a warm body slide next to him under the covers. When he opened his eyes, he saw Michael, curls still wet from the shower he had just taken, eyes still puffy. Alex scooted closer to Michael, wrapping him in his arms. They could talk in the morning, about Jones, about the airstream and the junkyard, but right now, both needed the rest and the comfort of each other.

In the morning, when Michael woke up, he found himself in an empty bed. He got out with a smile, eyes still puffy from the night before, but not crying anymore (not that he had any tears left in the first place), and walked to Alex’s living room, where he could hear some noise.

Getting closer, he could hear Alex on the phone, finishing up a conversation, “Yeah okay, I will, thanks.” He was sitting on the couch, his leg propped up on top of a pillow, the prosthetic off. On the table were laying a jar of cometquiles spread and some flying sauce-cakes, making Michael chuckle, remembering the last time those were on that exact table.

“Arthuro called and asked what you wanted, he heard about -” Alex said, going off at the end, not wanting to say it, but knowing that they needed to talk about it, the explosion.

“How’s your knee?” Michael asked instead, taking a cake and sitting next to Alex, worry clear on his face. The airstream was gone, the damage already caused at the junkyard, he and Sanders had already talked about their next possible moves, right now the only thing he could act on was Alex. Whether it was a massage, fixing the prosthetic, anything Alex needed, wanted.

“It has known better days,” Alex answered, leaning his head on Michael’s shoulder while he ate. They were silent for a few minutes, Michael enjoying breakfast, Alex texting Kyle about his leg. Once Michael finished eating, he spoke up.

“So, uh, we made a list?” Michael started, hesitantly. “Of all the things we lost in the fire. A few cars were touched, so that’s gonna cost a lot with the clients. Hopefully we can get insurance, but I don’t think that’ll be enough. There’s also a lot of old junk that burnt, which sucks since we wanted to sort through it and melt the metal parts together. Now it’s just a bunch of useless shit, so we’ll have to throw that out. We’ll also need to replace the heavy tools, a lot of them are melted or burnt. So all in all, the bill is high.”

He sighed, “Too high,” he added at the end, a whisper, as if saying the words at louf would make them more real. After the pandemic, the junkyard was slowly building itself back up monetarily, but they still weren’t out of the red. And the explosion only made things harder.

Alex rubbed his hand up and down Michael’s back, listening in silence, being a comforting presence. One Michael finished speaking, Alex talked, voice low, testing the waters if Michael wasn’t ready to talk about it now.

“Did you make a list for the airstream?” he asked, full of concern.

Michael nodded, and suddenly it was as if the dam had broken. When last night Michael was mostly in shock, he was fully sobbing, turning to Alex, who held him tight in the embrace.

“I lost -” Michael sobbed, “I lost everything, Alex.”

Alex held him, tried to make him feel calmer. Except, this was all new territory, seeing Michael brake like that, Alex had never witnessed it. Like everyone else, anger was mostly the emotion he had attributed to Michael in the past. And that anger was still there, now, sobbing into Alex’s chest. Except it was controlled, and surrounded by sadness and pain, that Alex didn’t need to be psychic to feel.

Before, Alex might have taken Michael’s comment personally, told him that he didn’t lose everything, that Alex was still there. But this was past Alex, present Alex knew that Michael had built his life in that airstream, it was his first real home, the first safe place that was his and his only. Because where the truck was technically speaking the first thing Michael owned, the trailer was the first object he built from the ground up.

So yes, Michael had lost everything. Everything he owned, everything he built, the countless drawings and projects that scattered the walls of the airstream and the entire bunker, the photographs he kept hidden in a box.

Where people would see a piece of trash, some place that was unsanitary and dirty, some place that wouldn’t be comfortable to live in, Michael had seen a home for many years. And as much as Alex was Michael’s home, nothing could replace the airstream.

“I know,” Alex whispered into Michael’s hair, “I’m sorry”.

The two stayed in that position for a while, until Alex’s phone rang. Michael stood straight, wiped his eyes and his nose, and grabbed another cake, while Alex talked to Eduardo, giving a fast review of what happened with the Lockhart machine, but keeping it vague enough to not out Dallas.

“Seriously,” Alex laughed out after hanging up, “the Valenti’s need to stop calling me.” At Michael’s confused raised eyebrow, he continued, “I was talking to Kyle earlier, he was worried about my leg, telling me not to put it under pressure. As if I couldn’t make that decision myself. And now, Eduardo is giving me a week off, to, I quote, ‘rest’. I am a grown ass man, I can do that myself!”

Michael giggled at that, turning into a laugh. “What?” Alex asked with a smile, not understanding what was funny.

“Babe,” Michael said, leaning close, “you do need people to tell you to rest.” He kissed Alex’s cheek as the other man chuckled, “That’s fair,” Alex replied, turning to look at Michael.

He was not yet in a good state, his eyes were still puffy and red, his cheeks beard the path of dried tears, his curls were all over the place, and his eyes were still heartbreaking. The sadness and the pain were clear in them.

But when Alex looked deep into Michael’s eyes, he could see that it was going to be okay. That Michael would hurt, for a long time even, and it would be hard to recover financially, but Michael’s eyes had something in them that he had desperately tried to get rid of. Hope.

And that was enough for Alex to believe that they were going to be okay. That Michael was going to be okay. The fight wasn’t over. The other’s may not be fighting Jones anymore, but Michael and Alex weren't done. In more ways than once.

They still had to deal with the damages in the junkyard. Help Sanders with his auto shop. And deal with their personal fears, Michael’s fears about his father.

The fire had destroyed Michael’s home, but from the ashes, a new one was being built.

#i made myself cry with my own fic lmao #and when i mean it was supposed to be different #i had planned a fic where the pod squad is happy alive and hugs #and i ended up with michael crying #i blame it all on the song #michael guerin #alex manes #walt sanders #rnm fic #rnm spoilers #again idk if it really counts as spoilers?#im gonna assume so to be on the safe side #thesquidkid writes

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manesalex · 3 years

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@roswellnewmexicocreate

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten by InsidiousIntent

“Well done,” Max says from behind him, “you're a good brother, and a good soldier. Are you ready to come home now, Michael?”

Or: Michael Guerin attempts to change fate

I love the idea behind this, of Michael having to destroy his connection to this world and that that connection is in the form of Alex, because of course Alex would be the one to tie him to this world. @insidious-intent does a great job showing Michael’s struggle for memories. And I really enjoy how Alex is clearly fighting to help Michael remember.

i know he knows that he’s killing me for mercy by el_gilliath and Winged_Fool

Special Agent Alex Manes gets pulled into investigating another murder he knows will scramble his mind, like so many others has done before. But there’s something different about these murders, something that scratches in the back of his mind like an itch he can’t reach. And with the investigation comes the new acquaintance of one Dr. Michael Guerin. Someone who both peaks his interests and causes a cold feeling along his spine in ways he shouldn’t.

Meanwhile Michael wants to get closer to this new agent on the team in any way he can, be it by manipulation, therapy, or feeding him to make sure Alex can’t really leave. His secret is too big not to keep his friends close, and his enemies closer.

AKA this is a Hannibal AU. There will be darkness Inside.

I don’t normally read a lot of dark fics (too many potential triggers), but I absolutely fell in love with this one. @winged-fool and @el-gilliath do an amazing job slowly building the story to it’s dark conclusion. And I love the insight into both Michael and Alex’s minds.

Wonderful by Page161of180

When Alex makes himself look over to meet Michael’s eyes, his breath catches at the open adoration on his cowboy’s face. ‘Feliz Navidad’ is blaring from the horns under the gazebo, and mothers are chasing good-naturedly after their shrieking children. There’s desert-inappropriate artificial pine wound around every streetlight and Michael Guerin is looking at Alex like there’s nothing else worth seeing in either of their galaxies. This is what every Christmas song that Alex has ever flipped the radio station to avoid says he should want. And he does want it. But the flip side of wanting, for Alex, has always been wondering why he deserves it, when so many people don’t get what they want. When so many people don’t get what they want because of the things Alex’s family has done.

It suddenly all feels like nowhere near enough, the few things he’s offered, to put this soft, awestruck look on Michael’s face.

Alex Manes has everything he wants for Christmas, and no idea why someone with his legacy deserves it.

Mimi Deluca sees things no one else can-- including a world where the Manes Men never existed.

It's a Wonderful (Roswellian) Life.

This author does an amazing job exploring Alex’s feelings that he doesn’t deserve to be happy and loved. I love the way the story slowly leads to his realization that his existence and his presence are enough. And I enjoy him seeing all the things good men like him bring to the world.

Heart of Courage by Nonnie_The_Individualist

A canon-divergent look at the airstream scene in episode 2x06 because looking at that Malex kiss during that scene there is zero way those two didn't just immediately forget Maria was even in the room. This fic deals with what, for many fans, was seen as a manipulation by Maria of two injured and traumatized characters, specifically her taking advantage of Alex, and as such is absolutely NOT Maria Deluca friendly. If that's not your thing, this won't be the fic for you so be warned now. This fic starts out the same as That Scene but also includes Alex and Michael's panic and confusion over what is happening so I have separated that as the first chapter/prologue so anyone can avoid that part if needed without losing too much of the story. There is a scene in chapter 2 where Michael and Alex argue with Maria about what happened so fair warning for that as well. The rest is a lot of soft, sweet, gentle Malex taking care of and actually talking to each other.

@lovecolibri does a great job taking this 2x06 canon divergent fic through the start of that scene and the fallout after. I really enjoy the way Michael and Alex stand up for themselves and each other in it. And I love the comfort they provide each other in the last chapter, as well as all the much needed communication.

#rnmcreate21 #fic recs #fandom love #roswell new mexico

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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World Revelations

@etherealsxnder

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

“What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

“Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

“I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

“He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

“We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

“Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

“What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

“Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

“(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

“Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

“Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

“In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

“We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

“What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

“Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

“Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

“I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

“Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

“First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

“And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

“I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

“Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

“Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

“Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

“But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

“You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

“I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

“They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

“Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

“They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

“Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

“He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

“I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

“Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

(Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

“No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

“They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

“Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

“That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

“I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

“Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

“No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

“Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

“I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

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alexguerinss · 3 years

Text

title: you're spring to me, all things to me (cross-posted on ao3)

summary: the one where malex are roommates and don't realize they're basically dating. alex pov.

notes: this is a remix of @lire-casander's amazing fic, with your kiss my life begins but from alex's pov. i hope i did this justice :)

“Alex, you okay?” Alex turned to see Forrest looking at him with what could only be concern in his eyes.

Alex simply nodded, before giving Forrest a strained smile.

“Is this about Michael?” Forrest asked bluntly and Alex winced, knowing Forrest knew his answer.

Alex bit his lip, before nodding slowly. The blue-haired man could only laugh at Alex’s struggle, which earned him a glare. Michael was his best friend and roommate, but hiding his feelings for him was incredibly hard.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me to pretend this was a date, even though you know I like Kyle and you like Michael. I didn’t say it was going to be easy.” Alex opened his mouth to respond, wanting to let Forrest down easy about Kyle, but closed his mouth thinking better of it.

He could tell him tomorrow.

“Okay, let’s go in. Liz will kill me if we’re late.” Alex grabbed Forrest by the hand and pulled him towards the bar, but stopped short of going inside, a fresh rush of nerves settling over him.

When Alex Manes first met Michael Guerin, he took note of the ripped jeans, his curly hair, his smile that he only gave to those he trusted, and his mangled hand and decided they were going to be best friends.

Alex thought nothing of his feelings for Michael. They were best friends and best friends cared about each other, right? His 14 year old mind couldn’t fathom a world without Michael in it, and he never wanted to.

He never noticed when his feelings had changed to more than just friends.

He had Michael over to watch Star Wars one summer night before 10th grade. The two of them were laughing and throwing popcorn at each other, Michael was sitting with his arm around Alex, and Alex laid his head on his shoulder. He did the same with Liz and Maria all the time when they came over, he didn't see the big deal. But he knew something was wrong as soon as Michael left the house after their movie marathon, and his father grabbed him roughly by the arm.

“Dad?” He asked, trying to pull his arm out of his tight grip. “You’re hurting me.”

“You are not to see this Guerin boy again.”

Alex looked at him confused. “We’re just friends.”

“Don’t think I don’t see through your perversions.”

“Dad, I -” The slap caught him off-guard, a stinging blow against his cheek that set his skin ablaze. The sound echoed in the room and his dad yanked him closer, ready to raise his hand again.

“I’m sorry!” Alex yelled out, watching as his father’s hand froze. He could feel his dad shaking with anger, and he kept the tears at bay. He would not cry in front of him.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Jesse sneered, his grip loosened slightly, and Alex could feel the bruise already forming on his arm. He had no doubt he already had a red mark across his cheek.

“I won’t see Michael Guerin again.” Alex responded, lying through his teeth.

His dad finally let go of his arm, and he ran up the stairs.

He needed to call Michael.

Alex was standing outside the bar, holding Forrest’s hand and trying not to break out into a sweat. He was brought out of his thoughts of the past as he felt a pressure on his hand and he looked down to see Forrest squeezing his hand in support.

“Come on,” Forrest all but dragged Alex through the door.

As Alex stepped foot on the wooden floors of the bar, covered in spilled beer and peanut shells, he took a deep breath.

He could do this.

He walked towards his group of friends, noting Michael nearby, and he broke out into a grin.

“Hey guys!” Alex quickly let go of Forrest’s hand, before putting his arm around his shoulders.

“This is Forrest,” Alex might as well get the introduction out of the way, not wanting the night to be awkward. As he watched Forest wave at them all, he spoke up again. “Forrest, this is like, everyone who’s important in my life.”

As everyone greeted Forrest, Alex noticed Michael make a quick exit and frowned.

Maybe bringing Forrest to the party was a bad idea, but he needed someone who was an outsider to all the drama. Meeting Forrest in his Music History class was just good fortune for Alex, who was always struggling to meet friends who were gay like him.

He knew Michael was bisexual, but he was always sleeping with women, and Alex thought he didn’t stand a chance. Alex thought nothing of it when Michael would always come back to their dorm rather than stay the night with the women he was hooking up with. Maybe he should have.

“Hey, Maria, is Michael okay?” Alex looked at his childhood best friend, and she looked at him before sighing, “Yeah, it’s just Guerin being Guerin.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him by bringing Forrest,” Alex stated apologetically.

“I know sweetie,” she responded. “I’ll go see where Guerin went.” She walked out of the bar and went in search of her friend, and Alex turned back to the group and saw Liz being very drunk and Forrest trying and failing to flirt with Kyle.

Liz looked over at Alex smirking, before raising her arm and putting her uncoordinated limb over his shoulder.

“Alex, why is Mikey sad, and why are you two not making out?”

“Liz, we’re just friends,” Alex said, trying to keep Liz steady as she wobbled on her feet.

“I thought you guys were secretly dating!” She exclaimed, the red solo cup in her hand sloshing beer over the top of her cup, and Alex watched as it hit the floor.

He couldn’t help but laugh, knowing how Liz got when she was drunk, before he helped her over to sit down at a table, asking a passing bartender for a water.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because Mikey looooooves you, and you are both oblivious.” She stated matter of factly for someone who was practically slurring her words.

“Hey, Max. You may want to help sober up the birthday girl. I need to go find Michael!” Alex said, kissing Liz on the forehead and watching as Max came over to help Liz.

Shaking his head and looking away from the couple, he went towards where he saw Maria exit and almost ran into her in his haste to get outside.

He immediately noticed Michael sitting against the building and he looked on in worry. Michael looked so small, and Alex suddenly didn’t know what to do about it.

Michael was the one who was always larger than life. He was always there protecting Alex. After dealing with the abuse of his dad and finally being able to not be under his dad’s clutches after his arrest, Michael was there for him, helping him with his nightmares and his injuries.

After Alex saw what Michael had to deal with before he was able to move into a healthy, loving home with Sanders, Alex didn’t know how Michael could do it. Love him like he did. Alex just shut down after the news of the abuse he endured came out into the public. He hid himself, until Michael brought him out of his shell.

Now, Alex stood frozen outside the main door of the bar watching Michael fold in on himself.

Move Alex.

“Michael?” He asked, pretending he hadn’t been standing there silently for the last thirty seconds.

Michael didn’t seem to hear him or maybe he was ignoring him. Alex deserved that at the very least for bringing Forrest to the bar.

He cleared his throat before speaking out again, “Michael, hey, you’re here.” An unconscious pull made his feet finally start moving as he made his way over to the other man.

The other man didn’t even look up as he spoke. “Go back inside. I’m pretty sure Forrest will be looking for you if you don’t.”

“Well, I know for a fact that he won’t.” Alex let out a breath. He could do this.

“How so?” Michael asked, his tone almost sharp in question. Alex bit his lip. He didn’t want to make Michael anymore upset, so he really needed to just come out with it.

“Well, I guess it has something to do with the fact that we’re just friends, and he’s currently trying to hit it off with Kyle.”

Michael was in the process of getting up as he heard that and almost fell over, grabbing the wall for support.

“Kyle? But didn’t you two go out on a date just tonight?”

Alex sighed, “It wasn’t a date Michael.” He really needed to assure him and he continued speaking. “It was just two friends catching up after a while, and him asking me to set him up with Kyle because he’s been pining over him for the longest time.”

Michael could only groan in response. “But you said it was a date. I thought-”

“I know what you thought,” Alex knew he needed to confess this sooner or later. “I wanted you to think that, to be honest. I wanted you to feel what I felt whenever you went out with one of those girls.”

He watched as Michael looked at him, his curls falling over his eyes, and Alex wished he could take a step forward and brush them out of his eyesight.

“It’s been a while since that,” Michael replied, and Alex had to agree. He realized that Michael had not actually slept with anyone in a while. He never thought anything of it until now.

Michael continued, “Wait, what? You wanted me to be jealous because you were jealous of those girls?”

Alex could only shrug in response. “I wanted you to see me. I’ve been feeling invisible around you for so long, and I just wanted you to-”

“Did you know our friends thought we were dating?” Alex looked at him, ignoring how he was interrupted and watched as Michael spoke again. “Only I thought we weren’t dating. Did you?”

Alex shook his head, letting out a laugh. “I’m sure we would have noticed if we were dating.” He looked away from Michael’s face. “I for sure would have known, with how I feel-”

“I didn’t,” Michael confessed, and Alex raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t want to believe we were dating even if all the signs were there because, Alex, I just didn’t want to lose you.”

Alex eyebrow went even higher at the statement, “Why would you lose me?” He watched as Michael covered his mouth with his hand, making an unintelligible noise.

Michael looked at Alex, “I love you.” The confession came out so quickly that Alex wasn’t even sure if he heard correctly.

“I know, Michael, I love you too. You’re my best friend.”

Michael could only shake his head, “No, no. No, Alex, I am in love with you.” He blew out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I just figured it out.”

Alex’s eyes widened, “But I thought you’d never-oh my god. I thought you said you’d never date a guy. I didn’t want to keep my hopes up, I just-oh my god.”

MIchael huffed out a laugh, “You’ve already said that.” Alex could only stare at Michael, unable to speak.

“I love you, Alex. I know we wasted so much time, but Maria’s got me thinking and then you’ve come out here and you’ve said that Forrest and you aren’t a thing and I just-a guy can hope, can’t he?”

Alex noticed how nervous Michael seemed and took a step forward and gently put his hands on his face, before he kissed him. Before he could pull back, Michael was kissing him back. Alex’s eyes widened, before he felt the kiss deepen. Alex felt like he was under a wave, not knowing when he was going to come up for breath again.

When they finally separated, Alex was looking at Michael, whose hazel eyes were burning into his face, and he knew what he needed to say.

“I love you,” he kissed Michael on the lips again and came up for a breath of air. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

They would tell their friends tomorrow. All Alex wanted to do right then was feel Michael’s lips on his and let the words wash over him.

“I love you.”

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #malexremix #malexremix2021 #malex fic #my fic

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alexthedrummerboy · 3 years

Text

Darkest Before The Dawn

pairing: willex, past luke/alex

summary: "your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.” OR an exploration into alex’s past, his family life, and his relationship with religion

essentially this is all one big angsty headcanon

authors note: basically i’ve been thinking about the gold chain alex wears around his neck and i’ve been way overanalysing what it is and i thought - what if it used to be a cross necklace that his devout parents made him wear?? also i’m so desperate for alex to have more backstory that i’m pulling it out of every nook and cranny at this point

trigger warning: homophobia, bad parenting

ao3

It starts when he’s seven. He’d invited Bobby over to his house after school to play, not knowing that his dad had come home from work early. They’re sitting at the dining table, drawing with Alex’s new 36 pack of crayons when he hears it.

“I just think letting him do all that... art stuff is gonna make him...” he hears his dad say to his mom, “...soft. Girly. We already have one daughter, we don’t need another one.”

Alex doesn’t really understand what his Dad means, but he drops the crayon he’s holding and pokes Bobby on the wrist lightly. “I’m bored,” he says quietly, though his picture remains on the table unfinished. “Can we go do somethin’ else?”

Bobby furrows his eyebrows and looks down at his paper. “But... I didn’t finish colouring my dragon.”

Alex looks at his Dad in the kitchen. He’s still talking to his mom, both of their heads bowed. He has that look on his face that reminds Alex of the time his mom tried to convince them to go vegetarian for a week. “We can finish colouring later... maybe,” he says. “Let’s go play in my room.”

Bobby takes one last look at his drawing but nods, gently folding the piece of paper in half and tucking it into his backpack. “Okay.”

They walk up to Alex’s room together, hand-in-hand like always. They pass the kitchen on the way and Alex’s dad turns his head, scowling deeper when he looks at their hands. Suddenly Alex feels cold all over.

“Boys,” he says, deep voice booming. “You’re getting a little old to be holding hands, aren’t you?”

Alex lets go of Bobby’s hand immediately and tucks it into his trouser pocket instead, nodding. Bobby looks like he wants to protest but Alex just nudges him and nods towards his room.

They walk away and Alex tries to brush the experience off. He doesn’t eat much at dinner that night.

---

His dad makes him quit choir the next year. He’s up in his room practicing for the Christmas festival when he hears three quiet knocks.

“Come in,” he says, closing his music book. His dad walks in, still in his shirt and tie from work. “Oh. Hi, Dad.”

His dad smiles stiffly. “Alex, what are you doing?”

Alex looks between his dad and his choir book for a moment. “Practicing for the festival,” he says, a smile growing on his face. “Mrs. Carson gave me a solo for the first--”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” his dad says, pursing his lips. “Wouldn’t you be happier... playing a sport or something? What about baseball? You know when your old man was in school, I was a real killer on the pitch.”

Alex’s tongue feels dry in his mouth the longer his dad speaks. He hates baseball. “Um... I-I like choir, though.” His voice is quiet, barely above a breath. His dad sighs and shakes his head. Alex feels an overwhelming sense of anxiety rise inside his chest. He hates disappointing people.

“I’m just worried about you, son,” he says, sitting down on the edge of Alex’s bed. “Okay, maybe not baseball. How about... soccer?”

Alex shuffles around on his chair. He feels like his heart has stopped beating. “Drums,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands. His dad leans closer.

“Speak up, Alex.”

Alex looks up, clenching his jaw. “I-I wanna learn how to play the drums,” he says. “L-like that guy from The Rolling Stones.”

His dad goes quiet, scratching his chin like he’s thinking about it, before he smiles and nods. He claps Alex on the shoulder hard enough that it makes him wince. “Drums eh? Sure, we’ll get you a kit and you can set it up in the basement.” As he turns to walk out of Alex’s room, he turns and throws him a cheeky smile. “My boy, the drummer. You know they say girls love drummers.”

Alex isn’t sure why, but that comment makes him feel sick. He stares at his closed door for too long after his dad leaves, his thoughts twisting and turning in his mind.

---

When Alex receives his first cross, he’s 12-years-old. He immediately vows never to take it off. It’s a beautiful piece of jewellery; a small gold cross on a solid gold chain. When his mom slips it around his neck, he feels... protected, somehow. Safe.

His mom smiles at him tearily as she hooks the clasp around his neck, running her hand down the side of his face. “Congratulations, baby,” she says quietly. “You know, my mother gave me my first cross when I was exactly your age. ”

Alex just smiles and tugs on the chain lightly, feeling the cool metal against his thumb and forefinger. “Thanks, mom,” he says quietly, looking down at where it’s dangling against the soft blue of his button down.

His sister, Andrea, comes from behind him and knocks his shoulder lightly. Her own cross is silver and smaller than his, contrasting against her light skin perfectly. He doesn’t remember when she got hers. She was four years older than him and got hers when he was just a little kid. “Congrats, Lexi,” she says.

His dad comes out of the kitchen, a bottle of champagne in one hand and two flutes in the other. He’s beaming. “This calls for a celebration!”

His mother looks at his dad and tuts quietly, though she still looks pleased. “Michael, it’s barely 9. We have to leave for church soon.”

His dad simply brushes off her worry. “My son is being confirmed, Linda. We’re celebrating.” He kisses her on the cheek and hands her a champagne flute. “It won’t take long.”

He pours himself and Alex’s mother a small amount of champagne and Alex watches, entranced as they cheers and take a sip. His mother and his father lock eyes before handing their glasses to Alex and Andrea, smiling secret smiles.

“Just this once,” his dad says. “Just one sip.”

Andrea takes the flute immediately and takes a sip. Alex watches her for a moment before taking his dad’s flute and lifting it up to his mouth.

The bubbles fizz and pop in his mouth. The taste is unpleasant, but... the feeling of his dad’s eyes on him, proud and sparkling with happiness make the experience a million times better.

As they drive to church, Alex keeps his hand firmly clasped around his cross, smiling the entire time.

---

Alex receives his first kiss when he’s 14. It happens in his basement with Luke Patterson. He’d invited him over so they could work on a song together. Luke had discovered him playing drums in the music room one day and had instantly recruited him to join his band, alongside Bobby and Reggie Anderson.

They’d long since abandoned practicing any form of music and were lounging on the couch in Alex’s basement, playing video games on his Sega Genesis. He’s so close to beating Luke at Mortal Kombat. They’ve been playing for 45 minutes and Alex has managed to lose every round so far.

But, with a fatal blow, Alex watches his character drop to his knees as Luke’s character poses victoriously. He groans loudly and leans back against the couch, trying his best not to pout as he hears Luke’s laughter next to him. “No fair!” he exclaims, dropping his controller beside him on the couch.

Luke smirks, boxing Alex in the shoulder lightly. “Not my fault I’m better at this game than you are,” he says. He’s leaning towards Alex, his face mere inches away from his shoulder. “I’m just naturally skilled.”

Alex blushes and shuffles away from him, leaning into the arm rest and trying to ignore his heart as it pounds away in his chest. “Naturally ugly, more like,” he mumbles. It’s not the best comeback, but he can’t really focus right now.

Luke laughs anyway, punching Alex’s arm again and turning back to face the TV. Neither of them speak for a moment but Alex can feel the air thicken with a strange tension that he’s never felt before.

His hand automatically comes up to grip his cross, the edges of the metal digging into his palm. He takes a short breath in and out, feeling the cold metal warm up in his hand.

He feels Luke’s eyes on him and he turns. There’s a small smile on Luke’s face that Alex can’t help but return. “What?” he asks.

Luke shrugs. “Nothin’,” he says softly.

Then, he leans in closer. Alex does not pull away.

Before he even realises what’s happening, they’re kissing. It’s chaste and completely innocent; a light press of lips against lips. Alex can tell that Luke hasn’t bothered to put on chapstick in his entire 14 years of life, but he tastes vaguely of grape bubblegum and iced tea. It’s nice.

As they kiss, he feels his grip on his cross loosen until his hand falls completely slack, landing on top of Luke’s hand where it’s resting on a cushion.

They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps against carpeted stairs. Alex jumps out of his seat and lands on the floor in front of the couch. Luke loses his balance and falls after him, landing face first in the couch cushion where Alex had just been sitting.

The basement door opens and Andrea pokes her head through, holding two capri suns and a bowl full of chips. She sees Alex on the floor and furrows her eyebrows. “Why are you on the ground?”

Alex clears his throat and blinks down at his knees, trying to hide his shaking hands. “Um... it-it’s more comfortable down here,” he mumbles.

Andrea shrugs and walks in, placing the bowl of chips and the drinks on the coffee table. “Mom told me to give these to you.” She looks between the TV and the two of them. “I thought you guys were practicing.”

“We were!” Luke says, standing up and walking over to where his guitar is resting on the other side of the room. “We took a quick video game break, but we’re ready to get back to work. Right, Alex?”

Alex nods, but he can’t stand back up. “Right,” he says breathlessly, giving Andrea a weak smile. “Thanks for the snacks.”

Andrea nods, but she looks suspicious. She walks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Alex doesn’t exhale until her footsteps have retreated completely. He breathes out shakily and draws his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“Hey,” Luke says, running to Alex’s side. His hand hovers above Alex’s back before resting just behind him on the couch. “You okay?”

It takes a minute, but eventually Alex nods and looks up at Luke. “Yeah,” he replies, though his hands are still balled into tight fists. “I’m good.”

Luke nods, his hand tightening and loosening its grip on the couch cushion a few times. “Was that... weird?” he asks quietly. Alex has never heard him sound this unsure before.

He shakes his head, a small smile growing on his face. “No,” he says quietly, and he means it too. “I don’t think so, anyway.”

Luke nods again, smiling brightly at Alex. “Okay. Cool.”

“Can we not... tell anyone? About that?” He asks quietly, looking up at Luke, eyes pleading. “I-I don’t know if I’m... if that...”

“Alex, of course,” Luke says earnestly, finally reaching over and resting his hand in Alex’s shoulder. “It’ll be just between us.”

Alex nods, smiling weakly. “Cool. Thanks.”

He feels mildly comforted by Luke’s words, but he can’t help the anxiety that grows in his stomach. He stands up and walks over to his kit, sitting down at his stool and twirling his drumstick in his hand.

When he closes his eyes that night, snuggled up in his bed, all he can think about are warm lips and iced tea.

---

He comes out at 16.

It doesn’t go well.

His mom cries like he’s just told her he died... but what makes him more anxious is his dad’s reaction.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares at Alex with that those hard, light eyes. He doesn’t even look angry, he just looks... disappointed.

“Dad?” he says quietly. The word gets caught in his throat.

His dad breathes in slowly and stands up. He walks out of the living room shaking his head. Alex watches him go until he’s completely out of sight. All he can hear are his mothers sobs. All he can feel is the weight of his guilt pressing down on him.

His cross feels like it’s burning his skin through the fabric of his t-shirt. Suddenly it feels like he’s wearing a ten pound weight around his neck. It’s hard to swallow.

He wants to comfort his mom, but he doesn’t even know what he would say. What could he say that wouldn’t make everything worse?

So, he stands up and takes one last look at his mom before walking down the hall. He passes Andrea on the way to the basement. She looks at him and then toward the living room where they can both hear their mother’s sobs.

“What’s wrong with mom?” she asks, placing a hand on his elbow. The touch burns.

Alex opens his mouth to speak but the words he wants to say get stuck in his throat. He brushes past her, ignoring her questions and running down the stairs to the basement and shutting the door behind him.

He sits down behind his drums and raises his hand to clasp his necklace, holding it so tightly his hand begins to hurt. He can’t cry. He thinks if he could, then maybe he’d feel better, but... the tears won’t come.

So, he lets go of his cross and picks up his sticks instead, twirling the left one in his hand a few times before hitting his high tom once, hard. It feels good, but the feeling doesn’t last long.

Eventually, he loses himself in the rhythm, hitting each drum harder than the last. He forgets for a moment; forgets about the disaster that had happened just minutes ago upstairs. He pauses for a minute to catch his breath but finds his mind wandering; is his mother still crying? Why hadn’t his dad said anything?

He shakes the thought free before pounding on his drums again. He’s not even beating out a rhythm now; he’s just trying to fill the space with noise to keep his thoughts out.

He’s interrupted when the door opens. It's his dad, holding an empty duffel bag, a somber expression on his face. Alex raises his eyebrows and takes his earplugs out of his ears. “Dad?”

His dad winces when Alex speaks, throwing the empty duffel bag onto the floor. “Pack your things.”

All the blood drains from Alex’s face and he stands up on shaky legs. He’s gripping his drumsticks so tightly, it’s a miracle that the wood doesn’t fuse with his skin. “Wh-where’re we goin’?” he asks, though he has a suspicion.

“We aren’t going anywhere, son,” his dad says. His eyes are on the carpet. He can’t even look at Alex. “Your mother and I... we can’t have you staying in this house.”

“What?!”

“If you’re going to choose to live with your... affliction,” he spits out the word like it’s poison; and in his dad’s mind, perhaps it is, “then it won’t do to have you living here, corrupting us with your ungodly temptations.”

“Dad--”

His father holds up a hand. “I’ll give you 15 minutes to get your things and leave.” He turns to leave the basement but Alex calls him back.

“Where am I supposed to go?” he asks, voice cracking as he tries to fight the tears that threaten to run down his cheeks. He knows crying will only make him more upset. His father doesn’t turn around.

“You can figure that out on your own.” Then, he walks out. Alex is alone. After a few moments, he walks out from behind his drums and picks up the. empty bag with weak hands and walks up to his room.

He’s working on autopilot as he shoves clothes and shoes and random items (when will he ever need his model robot?) into the bag until it’s almost full to bursting. He drops the bag on his bed and stares at it. He can’t hear anything; all the sounds around him are dull, muted almost.

He turns around and catches a glimpse of his reflection in his bedroom mirror. He still looks the same as he had that morning when he’d gotten dressed for school. There are still drawings on the back of his hand in blue and black ink from third period when Bobby and Luke decided to draw on him in lieu of paying attention to what Mr. Peters was saying.

Remarkably, he looks the same... but he couldn’t be more different.

Alex’s eyes drop to the necklace around his neck. It almost hurts to look at now. He’d done well by his vow; hadn’t ever taken it off, even when Jeremy Matthews teased him about it (and received a firm smack on the head from Reggie).

Shakily, he lifts his hands and unclasps the necklace, holding onto the chain so tight that the links begin to make grooves in his skin. He takes hold of the cross and swallows thickly, looking at his warped reflection in the surface of it.

He slowly slides the cross off of the chain and places it on his nightstand. The chain, though, he keeps though he doesn’t really know why. He puts the chain back around his neck. It feels bare without the cross on it weighing it down, but... Alex finds he kind of likes it.

With that, he picks up his duffel bag and walks out of his room. He can hear the quiet sound of scraping cutlery against ceramic and he winces. They’d started dinner without him.

As he walks towards the front door, he passes the dining table. When she hears his footsteps, Andrea looks up from her untouched plate of food and stands up. Alex shakes his head silently at her, gripping his bag strap tighter.

His parents don’t even look up. He gives Andrea a half-hearted smile and a wave before walking out the front door. He doesn’t bother taking his keys with him; he knows he won’t need to use them again.

The cold, night air smacks him right in the face as soon as he closes the door behind him. Then, without a second glance, he leaves and begins the short trek to Bobby’s house.

---

“So, I was wondering...”

Willie turns to Alex and smiles at him, squeezing his hand gently. “Yeah?”

They’ve been walking down the pier together in comfortable silence for almost 15 minutes, but the question bubbles up in Alex’s chest before he can control himself.

Alex looks down at their interlaced fingers before gesturing towards the necklace around Willie’s neck. “What’s that key around your neck for?”

At the mention of his necklace, Willie wraps his hand around the key and gives it a light tug with his free hand. If Alex notices how Willie’s slowed their walking pace slightly, he doesn’t say anything.

“It’s my house key,” he says softly. Alex parts his lips in surprise. “When I was a kid, I... I was pretty irresponsible. I was always losing things in random places. My mom used to tell me I’d lose my arms if they weren’t attached to my shoulders.” The smile on his face makes Alex want to cry. “When my folks gave me my first house key, it felt like I was finally growing up. I was so scared I would lose it, so I bought a chain. I’ve worn it around my neck ever since.”

“Even after...” Alex doesn’t continue his train of thought but Willie understands regardless. He nods.

“When I woke up after the accident, it was actually the first thing I reached for,” Willie says quietly, gripping Alex’s hand like a lifeline. “Force of habit, I guess.”

“Have you ever tried to visit your place?” Alex asks quietly, steering Willie towards the edge of the pier so they can sit by the water. Willie nods.

“A couple times. After I died, I didn’t visit for months. It hurt too much.” He pauses, looking out over the water as he scoots closer to Alex until their shoulders are pressed together. “I visited them for the first time a year after I’d died. I couldn’t go in. I was too scared, so I just watched from the windows like a total creeper.” There’s a chuckle in Willie’s voice that astounds Alex. He doesn’t know how he can be so cheerful even while talking about something so heartbreaking. “My family moved sometime around ‘89. I haven’t tried to find them since.”

Alex nods, listening to the sound of the crashing waves and seagulls as they fly overhead. He doesn’t feel pressured to comfort Willie at all. He thinks that telling him his story might’ve upset Alex more than it upset him. Instead, he rubs his knuckles with his thumb slowly, his finger savouring the feel of every dip and crevice.

“What about you?” Willie asks suddenly, turning to Alex. There’s a smile in his eye that Alex never wants to look away from. “Is that gold chain around your neck a remnant from your gangster rap phase, or...?”

Alex laughs brightly, throwing his head back. He can feel Willie laughing too, his shoulders bouncing up and down with every giggle. He stops and breathes out quietly, looking down at his chain and hooking his finger through it.

“Um... there used to be a cross hanging from it,” he says. “My parents got it for me for my confirmation when I was 12. I basically didn’t take it off for five years.”

Willie pauses, shuffles closer; almost as if he can tell what’s coming next. He doesn’t say anything, though, and somehow that makes it easier for Alex to keep going.

“When I came out, my parents um... they weren’t very cool about it,” he says, tugging a little harder on the chain. “My dad kicked me out.” Willie’s grip on his hand tightens and Alex lets out a breath. “When I was leaving, I took the cross off. It didn’t seem right to keep it after...” he clears his throat. “I kept the chain. I’m still not really sure why... I’ve been thinking about it ever since I left home. I think it’s just... a reminder of why I left and what I have now.”

Willie smiles, bumping their shoulders together. “What do you have now?”

He looks at Willie and find that he can’t control the smile that’s growing on his face either. Under the setting sun, Willie looks so beautiful; his tanned skin practically glowing and long dark hair moving with the breeze. He leans in and brushes a gentle kiss against the side of his lips. He feels Willie’s hand come up to cup his cheek and he leans into the touch.

They pull away from each other after a few seconds and Alex smiles again, resting their foreheads together.

“Freedom.”

#alex jatp #willex #willie jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #owen patrick joyner #booboo stewart #writing tag

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Malex Happily Ever After chapter 116 sequel

Part One.

As if Michael would leave. He didn’t care what Alex said, what he heard mattered more. And when Alex had told him to go away, his eyes and tears had begged Michael to come closer, to protect him. To give him a reason to trust again.

So he couldn’t leave. Especially not now.

Instead, he waited in his truck for another two hours before he spotted them. Alex was on his crutches – a smile tugged at Michael’s lips as he imagined Kyle insisting he use a wheelchair and Alex insisting he was fine – with Forrest right there next to him, a hand on his arm. He didn’t need to touch him, Michael knew he didn’t. Alex didn’t need help. But he may have needed comfort.

Michael’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought of Alex asking Forrest to stay close, to be able to feel him and know that they were both okay. To be unable to breathe unless they were together.

When they were off, Michael followed. He’d hoped that Alex’s car in front of him would go to the Long farm to drop Forrest off, but they both went to Alex’s house instead. As Forrest stepped out of the driver’s seat and hurried to the passenger’s side to help Alex out, he made no move to leave. He went inside, instead, with Alex.

Michael exhaled slowly. It wasn’t like they could get up to anything with the both being injured from the car wreck, but to know that Forrest got to be there with Alex, taking care of him – it unnerved Michael to no end.

Around half an hour later, Michael saw Forrest leave the house, already calling someone on his phone. Michael listened closely and overheard the words ready for pickup, and realized Forrest was leaving to get takeout for them. He barely managed to sit still until Forrest got in his car and drove away, then he stepped out of his truck and stormed up to the front porch. He started to knock, then remembered that Alex was injured and shouldn’t be moving around.

“Sorry about this, Private,” he muttered, and opened the door with his mind.

“Forrest?” Alex called, and Michael clenched his jaw as he closed the door.

He stepped into the living room to find Alex sitting on his couch against several cushions and pillows. Michael’s eyes fell to his bruises and red scratches.

Alex’s brows furrowed and he started to stand. “Guerin? What’re you doing here? How’d you get in?”

“Opened the door,” Michael said dumbly, and sat next to him.

Alex didn’t move away. “You can’t do stuff like that,” he growled. “You can’t just march into my house when my boyfriend’s not here and –”

“Don’t call him that,” Michael said at once, getting closer. Alex held his gaze, unwavering. God, Michael loved him. “I need to know you’re okay, Alex. I – I can’t breathe until I do, okay?”

Something in Alex’s eyes softened and he sighed. He put a hand in Michael’s curls and pulled him in so that their foreheads rested together. Michael inhaled sharply, and instinctively reached out, grabbing Alex’s waist and gripping tightly.

“I’m okay,” Alex said into the space between their mouths. “Look at me, Guerin, I’m okay.”

Alex put a gentle hand on Michael’s jaw until he opened his eyes and took Alex in. He reached up and put a hand on Alex’s chest, his breaths shaking as he felt Alex’s heart racing.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, wrapping his arm around Alex’s waist and pulling him in closer.

Alex nodded, their foreheads still pressed together. He whispered, “I’m okay.”

Michael held on. He wanted to press his nose to the crook of Alex’s neck and inhale his scent. He wanted to run his hand up and down Alex’s back, the thin fabric of his shirt the only barrier between their skin. He wanted to push his face into Alex’s hair and fall asleep to the soft strands against his skin.

Then Alex took his wrist, gently but firmly, and put his hands down. The comfort and relief that had barely arrived was now replaced with panic. Michael knew what was about to happen.

“Please,” he whispered, trying to keep his and Alex’s foreheads pressed together. “Please don’t ask me to leave.”

Alex still had his eyes closed. “Guerin –”

“Please, Alex, I can’t leave you to him. I can’t.”

“He’s my boyfr—”

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded, wrapping his arms around Alex again and pulling him onto his lap. “Please, don’t – don’t say it.”

“You’ll be okay,” Alex said, his voice subdued, resigned, as if he actually believed that Michael would survive without him.

“No,” Michael said at once. “No, I – Alex –” He fumbled with his words. He knew he had no choice now but to tell the truth, or Alex would never trust his feelings again. “I only dated Maria because – because she was easier.”

Alex shook his head, as if the words pained him. “Michael, please –”

“If – if she said no, it wouldn’t have hurt, Alex!” he said desperately. “I wouldn’t have cared. But you looked like you might actually stay! And I didn’t – I didn’t want to lose you!”

“I can’t do this now,” Alex pleaded.

“I thought having some small part of you would be enough, than getting all of you, and then losing it again. I couldn’t have lived with that, Alex –”

“And me?” he demanded. His eyes shone with tears. “What was I supposed to do, sit around and understand that while you were with someone else? You have any idea the hours I’ve paced this room, the bunker, the base – just driving myself crazy with the thought of what you guys were doing together? If I’m so damn important, then why did she get you?!”

Michael stared, stunned speechless as Alex hid his face, tears falling down the bridge of his nose.

“A-Alex . . .”

Alex wiped at his tears, seemingly frustrated with himself for crying in front of Michael at all. After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse, “I wanted you more than anybody. I fought for you harder than anybody. And she got to have you.” He finished his words in a whisper, pushing away from Michael as if unable to take his touch anymore.

His eyes as he stared out the window were cold and numb. “I am so sick of coming in last. You are not going to come here now, Guerin, and pretend you love me more than someone who has finally picked me.” He turned slowly to face Michael whose eyes burned and vision blurred with unshed tears.

“Now, I say this because I love you. Get out of my house. Because the second Forrest gets back, I’m going to hold on tight, and never let go.”

Michael flinched like Alex had hit him, but Alex had already turned away, dismissing him completely. Michael didn’t want to stand, didn’t want to move, but his legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they picked him up and dragged him to the door. Alex wouldn’t turn to look at him, let alone say anything else.

Michael felt like his heart was lying in broken shards at the bottom of his stomach, Alex’s words, and cruel truth, ringing in his ears, repeating hopeless hopeless hopeless. There was nothing for him to do. This time, he knew he’d really lost Alex forever.

Michael stepped out, still trying to process what his brain just couldn’t, and came face to face with Forrest Long.

Forrest wanted to hurry. Rationally, he knew his Alex was the most competent and strongest person there was, but his heart thudded uncomfortably as he ran through everything that might happen to the airman while he was gone.

Get ahold of yourself, he scolded several times as he waited impatiently at the Crashdown diner, as he quickly called out, “Keep the change!,” as he drove a few miles above the speed limit on his way back to the house. It was his fault, after all, that he and Alex had crashed in the first place. Whether or not an alien was involved didn’t matter. He just wanted to make sure Alex got back on his feet, safe and happy, as quick as possible.

He had no idea that he would hurry back to Alex’s house with a bag of burgers in hand to find Michael Guerin coming out.

Michael blinked like he was surprised to see Forrest at all, but before Forrest could say anything, Michael went past him, his eyes almost numb with something like shock and . . . fear?

Forrest went inside, brows furrowed, and found Alex exactly where he’d left, though not exactly how. Alex’s shoulders were straight, his back taught, his eyes staring out the window.

“Alex?” Forrest said softly as he reached out and touched his shoulder. Alex inhaled sharply, like just waking from his thoughts, and looked up at Forrest with red-rimmed eyes.

Forrest’s bag fell onto the table and he sat down, taking Alex’s face in his hands. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Alex tried for a reassuring smile, but looked away as he wiped his eyes. “Nothing, please, just c’mere.”

Alex wrapped his arms around Forrest’s waists eagerly, pressing his face into his collarbone. Forrest instinctively held him back just as tightly. He kept thinking back to Michael’s face, how it didn’t look so different from Alex’s; heartbroken beyond repair.

He almost asked what Michael was doing here, why’d left so upset, but he didn’t need to. He could imagine Michael bursting in here, terrified for Alex, and Alex ending things between them, breaking them both.

He held Alex tighter. “Hey,” he whispered into Alex’s hair. “Can you sill breathe okay?”

I’ll know, he thought. He would know if Alex was lying.

Alex took a second, then whispered, “Yeah. I can breathe.”

Forrest’s eyes fell shut and his shoulders sagged. He held Alex tighter as a cool resolution came over him, overriding his own heart, cracking away.

“Okay, baby,” he said, holding Alex as tight as he could and putting a hand in his hair. “Okay.”

His hands didn’t tremble, his breathing was calm. He loved Alex more than anything, so he knew what he had to do.

Alex put his elbow on the car door, his chin rested on his palm as the black sky passed them by. Forrest, though he had no idea why, insisted that they go for a drive that night. Alex didn’t mind. Some fresh air, he’d hoped, would help clear his mind.

Except of course he knew that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t think he could ever forget the look on Michael’s face. He shut his eyes against the memory and reached for Forrest’s hand as he took them down a familiar route. Forrest kissed Alex’s fingers and said nothing.

Alex closed his eyes for a second, maybe he’d dozed off, but the familiar bumpy road woke him and he looked around to find that Forrest was driving them right into the junkyard. Alex caught Michael’s eyes first, who had been sitting in front of the lit bonfire and was just beginning to stand, looking just as shocked to see Alex there.

“What is this?” he asked as Forrest parked the car, seemingly giving Michael no attention. “Why are we here?”

Forrest turned the car off and sighed. He smiled warmly at Alex. “I love you,” he said, and the answer shouldn’t have left a seedling of dread in Alex’s stomach, but it did.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. Then, eager to change the subject, he asked again, “Forrest, what’re we doing here?”

“Alex,” he took Alex’s hand in both of his and kissed it again, harder, more desperately, as if he was trying to hold onto something. The dread grew and out of the corner of his eyes, Alex saw Michael hesitate where he stood, as if wary of approaching the car before someone stepped out.

Alex already knew where this was going. He shook his head. “No.”

“Listen to me –”

“No! You can’t do this.”

“You think I want to?” Forrest demanded, though his smile never left. “Alex, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I know you, I know who you really love, with everything you have, and it’s not me.”

Alex shook his head. He whispered, “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” Forrest chuckled miserably.

Alex clenched his jaw, his eyes burning. “I’ll – I’ll never see him again, I’ll never talk to him again, I’ll –”

“Don’t do that,” Forrest said earnestly. “Don’t torture yourself like that. Alex . . . you know who he loves. You know how he feels about you. Don’t throw that away because you’re a little scared right now, you deserve better than that.”

“I said I would never let you go.”

Forrest shrugged. “You’re not. I’m letting you go.”

A cry escaped Alex’s lips. “You can’t do this, you love me.”

Forrest took his face in his hands and kissed him hard. Against his lips, he whispered, “I’m doing this because I love you.” He held Alex tighter for a few seconds before he let go with a sharp inhale, and put his hands on the steering wheel instead. His knuckles were white, his smile tighter now.

“Go, Cap,” he forced a chuckle, his head ducked. “Don’t make me wait here, or I might not let you leave. Then we’ll both regret it.”

Alex stared. He wanted to kiss Forrest’s cheek or take his hand in one last squeeze, but he knew that would be cruel to do. Holding his breath and not giving himself any time to think about it, Alex stepped out of the car. As soon as the door was closed, Forrest ran a hand through his blue hair and drove away. Alex watched long after his car had disappeared.

He put his hands in his pockets and hung his head back. Huh. He hadn’t noticed all the stars tonight. He looked over at Michael who’d been watching him, and felt that jagged shard in his heart that he’d had for too long finally ease away.

He walked past Michael and sat down on the other lawn chair in front of the bonfire. Slowly, Michael sat down, too, his eyes still on Alex.

“Private –”

“Can I stay here tonight?” he asked before he could fully process everything that had happened.

Michael nodded, hope coloring his eyes as they reflected the flames. “Please.”

Alex hugged himself. “‘Cause I still need a minute.”

Michael said nothing a moment, then moved his chair close enough to Alex’s that their knees touched and their thighs almost brushed. He visibly hesitated before he put an arm around Alex’s shoulders, his grip on Alex’s arm tight, as if scared he would disappear otherwise.

The touch sent a long-missed shock throughout Alex’s entire body, and he sighed deeply. He rested his head down on Michael’s shoulder, and the two just held each other like that for a long time.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #forlex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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aliciam72 · 3 years

Text

Just a quick Malex one shot before I go back to my Alien Baby WIP

A little warning that this isn’t exactly Forrest friendly even if it starts out as Forlex...

BULL RIDING FOR DUMMIES

“Are you sure that thing is safe, DeLuca?” Michael asked after the rental company left the bar.

“Of course it’s safe. Why do you want to try it to make sure?” Maria teased, bringing a smile to his face.

Things between Michael and Maria had softened over the months since their breakup, much to Michael’s relief. “Nah, mechanical bulls ain’t my style. I’d much prefer the real thing.”

Maria scoffed. “You’ve ridden a real live bull?”

Michael nodded. “I tried my hand at it a few times. It was fun but not something I’d do for a living.” He leaned close and whispered. “Especially if I wasn’t a telekinetic alien.”

Maria threw her head back and laughed. “You couldn’t do it on your own, huh?”

Michael laughed with her. “Not a chance in hell. I did think about it for a hot minute though. Those boys make good money on the rodeo circuit, but even with the powers it was hard as hell. What made you rent one of these?”

“I heard it draws a crowd. This town has tons of macho cowboys trying to impress the ladies.” Maria joked.

“Well, I ain’t getting on it. I’ve got no one to impress.”

“That’s too bad. I hear Alex is planning to be here.” Maria said over her shoulder on her way to the stockroom.

Michael followed her. “And why would that make a difference? He’s still with Forrest isn’t he?” Michael knew damn well that Alex was still dating Forrest, the whole damn town knew it but maybe something had happened since he saw Alex last. Very doubtful since he just saw him two days ago, but he could hope, right?

“Yes, he is still with Forrest but I don’t think it’s as serious as you make it out to be. Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”

“Nah, I don’t want to make things weird for him. I want him to be happy.” Michael wanted nothing more than to always be where Alex was, but he was trying to be a good friend and let him enjoy his relationship with Forrest. God knows he deserved some happiness after the events of the last year.

“C’mon, Guerin, everyone is going to be here. And I know for a fact Alex would never want you to stay away just because of him and Forrest.” Maria handed him a case of whiskey and nodded to the bar. “Could you put that out there for me?”

She picked up a case of tequila and followed him out of the stockroom. He set the box behind the bar and leaned back. “You really think he won’t mind if I’m there?”

“He will not mind. He’s still your friend even if he’s dating someone else. Please come.” Maria assured him.

Michael nodded. “Okay, I’ll be here. It’s always a good laugh when some idiot thinks he can ride that thing on the red level.”

@@@

Watching people trying to impress their dates by riding the mechanical bull was pure entertainment gold. Michael sat with his friends and laughed and cheered along with everyone else. He had to admit he was having a good time, even if it seemed like Forrest was glued to Alex’s side, constantly giving him little kisses on his cheek and holding his hand on the table.

Alex allowed it most of the evening but got annoyed when Forrest nuzzled into his neck more than once. He turned to Forrest and whispered low so no one else could hear. “Can you dial it back a bit. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Forrest glanced across the table to Michael, who for once wasn’t staring at them before looking back to Alex. “You’re uncomfortable or he is?”

“Forrest, that’s not fair. We’re all having a good time tonight, can you not ruin it?”

“How is showing you I care ruining it?” Forrest feigned innocence.

Alex sighed. “Never mind.” He watched the latest rider fall to the ground to a chorus of groans.

Forrest took a long swallow of beer and stood up. “You know what? I think I’m gonna give it a try. After you do love a hot cowboy, right?”

Alex groaned. “Forrest! You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Forrest pretended he didn’t hear him and walked up to the guy controlling the bull. After a few moments, he climbed on and signaled he was ready. Everyone at the table watched in amazement at Forrest not only made it through the green level, but the yellow and red as well.

The whole bar was cheering when he jumped off. Alex watched him eat up the praise of those around him. He glanced to Michael and noticed sweat on his brow and the slight tremor in the hand resting on the table. Sighing, he reached into his backpack and pulled out his flask.

Wordlessly, he walked over to Michael and handed it to him. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. Drink before you puke.”

Michael eyed him and lifted the flask to his nose. He gave Alex a wry smile when he smelled the acetone. He shook his head in amusement and took a long sip before handing it back.

Forrest made his was back to the table. “How was that for some bull riding?”

Alex’s smiled at him. “That was definitely some fancy stuff. I never knew you could ride like that.”

“Yeah, well, not all us cowboys show off.” Forrest threw Michael a smug smile before pulling Alex into a quick hug.

Michael stood and for a moment Alex thought he might do something stupid but he just slapped Forrest on the back. “Great job, man. You made it look so easy I think I’ll give it a try too.”

Michael lasted all of ten seconds before he was thrown to the floor. He groaned as he stood and sheepishly made his way back to the table. “Guess it’s a lot harder than it looks.”

Alex rolled his eyes and took a long drink from his beer. Isobel and Max teased Michael for a few minutes about having to give up his hat to the Cowboy gods. Even Kyle and Maria got a few good natured digs in. Through it all Michael smiled and laughed it off as the loving teasing it was.

That is until Forrest gave him a slow clap. “That was amazing. I thought someone with such macho cowboy swagger would be able to handle a fake bull for more than ten seconds.”

Michael continued to smile. “Yeah, guess I’m out of practice.”

“Or maybe it’s all for show and you’re just a crappy cowboy. Maybe you should give up your hat. I mean you did lose to a history nerd.” Forrest pulled Alex closer and kissed his cheek again.

The table went quiet, Isobel shaking her head every so slightly at Michael. He swallowed and took his hat off his head to set it on the chair next to him. Glancing around the table at the worried faces of his friends, made his stomach churn. They all thought he was going to cause a scene and lash out at Forrest. Instead he just stood and headed out of the bar. He could hear Isobel and Liz calling after him but he didn’t stop until he was in his truck heading back to the airstream.

@@@

Alex pushed Forrest’s arm off his shoulder. “What the hell was that?”

“Oh come on, Alex, I was just having some fun.” Forrest replied, kissing him again.

“I told you to stop doing that. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Forrest held up his hands. “Sorry, I was just joking. I didn’t mean anything.”

“No, you weren’t joking. You were intentionally rude to him. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Alex stood and grabbed Michael’s hat off the chair.

“Where are you going?” Forrest called when he headed to the door.

“To apologize for my asshole ex-boyfriend.” Alex snapped.

Forrest chuckled. “He didn’t do anything you have to apologize for.”

Alex stopped and turned to stare at Forrest. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and continued to the exit.

He could hear Rosa as he reached for the door. “He wasn’t talking about Michael, asshole.”

@@@

Alex could see the fire pit glowing when he pulled into the junkyard. He slowed his car, grabbed Michael’s hat and got out. “You forgot something.”

Michael took a long swallow from his beer. “You keep it. Looks better on you.”

Alex laughed. “So dramatic.”

“What are you doing here, Alex?”

“You didn’t have to do that you know.”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alex sat down next to Michael. “You are still a miserable liar. Thank you for tonight. It was great to be out with everyone and not have it feel weird.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. Did you really come here just to return my hat?” Michael asked.

“Not just to return the hat. I also came to apologize for my asshole ex-boyfriend.”

Alex said it so casually that Michael leaned forward, sure he misheard. “Come again?”

“Yeah, it seemed to confuse Forrest too, though I think Rosa took a little too much pleasure in explaining it to him. I broke up with him.”

Michael’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Alex smirked and leaned close, his lips almost touching Michael’s. “Seems history nerds aren’t type.”

Michael shifted in his seat. “Oh yeah? And what is your type?”

“Science nerd with a bit of macho cowboy thrown in.”

Michael gave an indignant squawk that was silenced by Alex’s lips on his.

When he pulled away, Alex smiled softly. “Will you come home with me, cowboy?”

Michael grinned. “Let me grab my hat.”

#Malex #Getting back together #anti forlex #anti Forrest Long #michael guerin #alex manes #My fic

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