This is my 2021 @malexsanta gift fic for @manesframe - I’m so sorry it's late, but I hope you like it!
The first two prompts were generally for hurt/comfort and reunions with some angst beforehand, and I took those and my (strong lmao) feelings about all the missed trope opportunities in Episode 3x08 and rewrote the Malex parts of that episode. Lots of arguing, followed by the tropes I desperately wanted, followed by some hurt/comfort and kissing 😁
-- -- summary:
Michael’s retort died in his throat. “Fine. You can come.” He motioned for Alex to get in the cab, pulling his own door open irritatedly. Of course Alex didn’t want to come because he gave a shit about Michael’s well being, of course it wasn’t protective. It was nothing but chance that they were working towards the same goal. He added, uncharitably, “But you’re not going to sabotage me because of some secret mission bullshit of your own, okay?”
Instead of the bristling Michael expected, Alex just nodded curtly.
-- --
A rewrite of the Malex parts in Season 03 Episode 08
This meta is the @rnmbingo prize for @jule1122! She requested an examination of Alex’s hallucinations of Nora in 3x09 and what it revealed about his fears and insecurities.
As such, CW for struggles with self-worth, child abuse by a parent, queerbashing, death of a parent, and hallucination. As always, these metas are my thoughts and opinions and nothing more.
Let’s start with the obvious: the insecurities Alex discusses with the Lockhart machine’s manifestation of Nora. (I will refer to her as Lockhart!Nora just to make things easier.)
These are built on the very obvious, textually supported foundation of Alex’s insecurities we’ve known since season 1; namely that he doesn’t feel he is “strong enough” to “protect” Michael. He feels he is not enough to keep Michael safe, he himself says he joined the Air Force to be able to “win battles” because Michael had been so badly hurt in front of him and he could do nothing.
He tells Lockhart!Nora that “I spent a year cleaning up my father’s messes. And I made sure that not one of them touched Michael.” Lockhart!Nora taunts him with the fact he didn’t tell Michael how badly affected the other Lockhart technicians were affected, including fatally, by interacting with the machine. And when she asks him why he hasn’t done “the obvious” and taken the machine to Michael, an alien, he tells her it’s because he doesn’t want Michael to “get hurt”.
Alex is still thinking and framing his actions around protecting Michael, Lockhart!Nora is his inner insecurities telling him he will fail. Again. That he’s not enough, he will never be enough. That he’s too broken, too weak; that Michael deserves better.
(Gonna take a quick sidebar here to take Lockhart!Nora’s suggestion of “talk about this being a metaphor” because OH LOOK ALEX ISN’T ‘ENOUGH’ BY HIMSELF BUT GOLLY GEE WHEN HE WORKS TOGETHER WITH MICHAEL THEY GET THINGS DONE anyway it’s fine I’m fine I’m just gonna set this sledgehammer down real nice and slow…)
But let’s ah, let’s go down a layer shall we?
What is the significance of the Lockhart machine manifesting as Nora, specifically? Because yes, it is the Lockhart machine causing it, but it’s coming form Alex’s mind. So, why Nora? Why not Jesse, or Michael himself?
Let’s examine this line for some answers: “He put you on a pedestal, and I doubt that he wants to be held by the guy who takes you off of it.”
This is, of course, referencing the insecurity I was talking about above re: not being Enough for Michael, but it’s also saying something else, by NOT saying something: Alex claims Michael has Nora on a pedestal. True, and Alex is not the only person to say so. Jones and Isobel both call him on it, in fact earlier than this. But what Alex DOESN’T say is that Nora shouldn’t be on a pedestal. Alex, in fact, wants to keep Nora on the pedestal for Michael.
Alex wants Michael to have a perfect image of his mother, he wants him to get to keep the mom he imagined. Alex feels responsible for the fact that Michael lost her in the first place (HE LITERALLY WAS THE ONE WHO MADE MICHAEL LEAVE HER TO DIE obviously it wasn’t his fault, I’m simply pointing out the ONLY interaction Alex has actually had with Nora and how he might feel about that) and he wants to do everything in his power to give Michael any piece of his mother that he can. Any comfort, any happiness. Even if it’s a half truth.
So in an odd way, when it comes to the Lockhart machine specifically, Nora is Alex’s main obstacle. Lockhart!Nora says so, “maybe I just represent who you really think you’re fighting with when it comes to this device.”
Not because she built it. Not because of the Manes’ Project Shepherd. But because of Michael and Alex’s need to be nothing less than perfect for him.
written for @malex-cupid from the prompt “I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.”
this is all smut, don’t let the beginning fool you (contains frottage and d/s undertones)
you can also read it on ao3 here
-- --
It was almost too easy. Michael had followed Alex as he drove over, had slipped in behind him by adjusting (okay, maybe breaking) some electronic security measures, and had crept down the hall behind him without anyone noticing. Or at least, without any alarms sounding or people running at him trying to get him out of what was definitely supposed to be a secret building.
Alex turned into a room halfway down the hall and Michael sped up his pace, slipping through the door before it closed. He was feeling pretty damn good about his creeping around skills, keeping his hand on the door to make sure it shut soundlessly, and following Alex across the large room when Alex spun around, his arms crossed across his chest.
“What are you doing?”
Michael stopped abruptly, avoiding running into Alex by a narrow margin. Damn, he’d been so close to avoiding detection. Michael spread his arms out in a show of truce and slapped on a tight smile. “Following you.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Why are you following me?”
“Because you were clearly hiding something, and I wanted to know what,” Michael shot back, leaving off the whole truth, which was that he wanted to make sure Alex was safe, and not up to his neck in shady or dangerous stuff again. In spite of the way they were bickering, in spite of the fact that Alex was so hot and cold that Michael was afraid to make any kind of overture, Michael couldn’t stand the thought that Alex might be in trouble, and he certainly couldn’t sit back and watch it happen. But if Alex wasn’t going to work with him, then he was stuck sneaking around.
“You could’ve asked,” Alex said, “instead of putting both of us at risk by breaking and entering.”
“Right, because you’ve been so forthcoming recently.”
Alex shook his head. “If I didn’t tell you something, then it’s because you didn’t need to know.” Michael bristled. There was a time, not too long ago, where they had actually been talking, and sharing information, and Michael felt like something approaching a real friendship might have been developing, but now? “And you shouldn’t have come here, here especially,” Alex continued, gesturing around the room for emphasis before crossing his arms again. It was a protective pose, and Michael hated it. “How did you even get through the security?”
Michael scoffed, crossing his own arms on the off-chance it might bother Alex as much as Alex’s positioning was bothering him. “I barely had to breathe on those locks to get them to open.”
Alex frowned. “You shouldn’t have been able to get in.”
Michael’s traitorous brain focused in on the way Alex’s arm muscles moved as he uncrossed his arms to rub his temple instead of responding to the obvious slight at Michael’s abilities. Michael’s mind was catching up and preparing to respond with a clever retort when the click of the door lock rang out loudly through the room, and Alex’s expression changed from irritated skepticism to genuine worry.
“Fuck, we shouldn’t be in here,” Alex muttered. Michael watched him sweep his eyes around quickly before settling on a closet built into the side wall.
“No,” Michael said immediately, “I am not hiding in a closet.”
He could imagine it—being shoved close together, in the dark, touching a way they hadn’t in months—and Michael already felt hot, his clothing a little too tight. The thing about their relationship recently was that they hadn’t had any physical contact—it was all words, soft and sharp—and the idea of that suddenly being thrust upon him when he wasn’t prepared for it had Michael’s libido working in overdrive.
And what if Alex wasn’t affected? What if Alex was calm and collected and went on just as they had? That might be the worst way Michael could think of to find out that Alex had actually moved on, and he didn’t want to do it in the middle of a covert operation where he might very well need to have his wits about him for a fight if they were found.
“Sorry,” Alex said, but he didn’t sound sorry at all. “But we can’t be found here.”
Alex grabbed Michael’s wrist and tugged him in the direction of the closet. And Michael, despite his resolve not to be put in this situation, was so startled by the contact that he just let himself be dragged.
The closet was small, half of it taken up by file boxes and the other half clearly meant only for holding a few coats. Alex pushed Michael inside, pressing Michael back against the wall with his own back to the door. Michael swung the door shut with his mind, sparing them the issue of trying to negotiate it in the small space, swinging closed a little latch on the outside to make it look less like someone could have hidden there. The door was solid with some slits that let in little lines of light, and Michael could just make out Alex’s face, only a few inches from his own.
Alex was still gripping Michael’s wrist, holding it down between them, and Michael had to hold his hand extremely still to avoid touching either of their hips. Alex didn’t seem to have the same concerns, his knuckles brushing lightly against Michael’s waist every time either of them breathed, his face a mask of concentration as he tilted his ear towards the door slits.
But it was a lot, that one touch. Michael didn’t want to admit it, but it was more than enough to make him half hard, all of the energy he had put into following Alex redirecting to his cock. Michael tried to think of anything other than the way he missed Alex, and the untethered way Alex’s touch made him feel, but he had been waiting for the moment that would be the right time to say something, something soft and romantic, and this wasn’t that.
“Alex—” Michael started to say, quietly, but Alex immediately hushed him.
“Someone’s there,” Alex breathed, even more quietly than Michael had been talking. Michael held his breath for a moment and yeah, he could hear some muffled voices. He tried to mentally prepare for a fight, but he was so distracted it was nearly impossible.
Their faces were only inches apart. Michael kept watching Alex’s mouth, without even meaning to—his lips slightly parted as he focused on being quiet, licking them every so often—and all at once he realized how desperately he wanted to kiss Alex. They hadn’t been this close in so long, and Michael had forgotten how it felt to have Alex’s lips so close to him, close enough to feel every exhale on his skin, close enough that he would barely have to move to capture Alex’s mouth in his.
Michael took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky exhale as he pulled his eyes up to meet Alex’s, aware that he was probably being far too obvious even after deciding he was going to rein his feelings in. Alex stared right back at Michael, and that made it worse, if anything, because Michael could summon memories of every time Alex stood close to him and met his eyes like this, and it never ended in an argument (at least, not immediately).
Something banged lightly against the wall next to the closet, like someone had hit it for emphasis, and Alex pressed in closer to Michael. Of course it was just to avoid detection if someone was right outside, but Michael was having difficulty remembering that when Alex’s knuckles were now pushed firmly against his thigh, barely a breath between their bodies as Michael tried to make himself small against the wall.
Michael could almost hear the chatter in the room outside, and he tried to focus on that, and not on the way he could feel the way the fabric of his shirt and Alex’s touched as they breathed, and not on the way Alex was still looking directly at him, and not at the way that Alex’s free hand was braced against the wall next to Michael’s head, and definitely not at the way Michael’s own cock was getting harder as the moments passed. It was a nearly impossible task.
“Shh,” Alex said again, unnecessarily since neither of them was making noise.
Still, Michael nodded in understanding, and Alex’s lips turned up slightly in a smile that, regardless of how small it was, was warmer than any of the expressions he had given Michael recently. Michael tried to smile back—maybe some good would come of this outside of the exercise Michael’s hand was certainly going to get once he was alone—but as soon as he did, Alex’s hand, still clutching Michael’s wrist, moved.
Alex swiveled his hand, and Michael was almost certain it was an accident, and Alex was trying to free his hand from being stuck between them. Except then Alex’s fingertips were pressed against Michael’s thigh, and they were moving, almost like he was trying to touch Michael, almost like a caress, as much as good be done with the tight space.
Michael was fully hard in an instant, and he squeezed his eyes shut abruptly, trying to keep himself from making any sound. When he opened his eyes, Alex was still smiling at him, and Alex’s fingertips were still stroking the denim on Michael’s thigh. Alex raised his eyebrow and licked his lips, and Michael almost whimpered with the need to kiss that expression off of his face.
The voices outside the closet had receded, but clearly not left the room. Alex must have decided they were far enough away to risk talking, though, because he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing Michael’s ear with each word. "I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me,” Alex whispered, and Michael couldn’t even argue, because he was trying hard not to leap over Alex’s boundaries and kiss him, and of course he wasn’t being subtle when they were pressed together like this. Alex licked his lips again, and the awareness of Alex’s tongue so close to Michael’s ear made him shiver. “I give you permission to just do it.”
Michael stopped breathing. Alex pulled back, as much as he could, and Michael watched him carefully, half expecting someone to tear open the closet door and let him know exuberantly that he was on candid camera. But nothing happened, and Alex looked earnest and almost nervous now, and that was enough for Michael.
He leaned across the narrow space between them and kissed Alex. It had been a while, but it was so familiar—Alex tasted like he always did, he kissed like he always did, and Michael’s entire universe shrunk to just him and Alex like it always did. Alex’s free hand slid along the wall, his fingers knitting immediately into Michael’s hair, and he pressed his tongue into Michael’s mouth, and Michael could barely contain his groan then. He’d been waiting so long for this, for some perfect moment, and somehow this was still perfect, even though they were hiding in a closet and they’d been sniping a few minutes earlier, and they hadn't even talked yet. Michael would make sure they talked, this time. But not just yet.
Now, all Michael wanted was to strip Alex bare and show him how much he’d missed him. But in the confines of the closet, there was no way to strip off anything, not without risking falling and making a lot of noise. Instead, Michael twisted his hand in Alex’s grip and pressed it against Alex’s cock, which even through the fabric of Alex’s pants, was clearly as hard as Michael’s. Alex’s hips jutted forward, pressing further into Michael’s palm, Alex’s fingers pressing hard enough into Michael’s thigh that he fully expected it to leave marks.
Michael grabbed Alex’s hip with his free hand, pulling Alex in closer to him. Their hands were caught, pressing up against each other completely, but it felt so good to feel Alex’s body against his. Alex’s fingers brushed against the tip of Michael’s cock, maybe not even intentionally, and Michael bit back a moan. Fuck, had he missed this. Alex always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even the way Alex had let Michael know he’d wanted Michael to kiss him had been perfect, the way he had asserted that he was in charge without making Michael ask for it.
Michael wanted more than just a kiss though, and he was almost positive Alex was on the same page, regardless of how they’d gotten here. He slid his hand up awkwardly to Alex’s pants fly, pulling his lips away from Alex’s. Alex looked at Michael questioningly, and Michael almost forgot his aim when he saw how blown Alex’s pupils were, his lips bruised red from kissing already. Michael leaned in the way Alex had before, pressing his lips almost against Alex’s ear and relishing the way Alex shuddered.
“Do I just have your permission to kiss you? Or is there anything else you’ll allow?” Michael asked, knowing that Alex would respond to the facetious question well. He ran his fingertip lightly along Alex’s zipper and Alex bit off a moan. “Give me permission to touch.”
“Fuck,” Alex swore quietly, and Michael couldn’t be sure if he was swearing because of what Michael was saying or because Michael had caused him to moan despite their continuing need to stay quiet to protect their cover. “You’d better touch me,” Alex said, regaining his authoritative tone, and Michael shivered. He’d really, really missed that.
Michael didn’t wait for anything else, but moved his head back so they were face to face again, so that he could catch Alex’s lips in a kiss again, deep and slow because that was the best way to avoid any sounds. Michael reached out with his mind to unbutton Alex’s pants and pull down the zipper in one fluid, practiced motion. There wasn’t room to pull them down completely, barely room enough to shimmy them down to his thighs, but it was almost better this way, the threat of being caught enough to counter the awkwardness.
Breathing heavily against Alex’s mouth, Michael pressed his hand against Alex’s cock, suppressing another heavy moan when he felt how hard it was, when he felt the slickness of Alex’s precum against his fingers even through Alex’s briefs. There wasn’t room for Michael to move his wrist enough for a real hand job, not even enough room to pull down Alex’s briefs, but Alex clearly had other plans; he scrambled his own hand in between them again, pushing Michael’s hand away and unzipping and tugging Michael’s pants down his hips as much as he could.
Michael slid his hand around Alex’s waist, slipping it under the waistband of Alex’s briefs to palm at his ass as Alex pressed himself in, holding onto Michael’s hip and pushing Michael against the wall. Michael could feel Alex’s cock pressing up against his own, even with both pairs of underwear between them, he could feel the way Alex’s cock was throbbing and leaking from Michael’s teasing touches. This was harder, though, and Michael could barely contain a moan as Alex rocked his hips back and forth as much as possible in the tiny space, rubbing their cocks together, spreading the stain of precum against the fabric.
It was like high school, dry humping in the back of Michael’s truck or that one time in the eraser room, and it made something in Michael light up, the memory and reality combining into one as he gave himself into that pleasure. Alex bit Michael’s lip as he thrust his hips more forcefully, pulling at Michael’s curls and curling his nails into the skin of Michael’s hips. Michael kept his hand on Alex’s ass, unable to do anything but hold it, his fingers pressing promises of ‘later’ into Alex’s skin, pulling Alex against him with every rock of Alex’s hips.
It was infuriating, the fabric between their cocks the bane of Michael’s existence when he just wanted to feel Alex’s skin against his, just wanted to feel Alex’s cock leaking onto his; but it was also so, so good.
There were still faint voices in the room, and as quiet as Michael and Alex were trying to be, Michael knew both of them were moaning quietly, unable to hold in every sound, and he knew they had to be quick or the risk of getting caught would only increase. Michael encouraged Alex to move faster, pulling him in closer, and Alex responded immediately, fucking into Michael like there wasn’t anything between them, the way Michael always thought about when his own hand was on his cock. Except this wasn't just a fantasy, this was actually Alex thrusting against Michael, breathing heavily, pulling Michael’s hair and kissing his lips raw.
Michael knew he was close, the need to be quick and the overwhelming feeling of being so close to Alex combining, even though he didn’t want this to end. His hips stuttered forward, pushing against Alex as much as they could without meaning to, and Alex groaned quietly against Michael’s lips again.
“You can cum,” Alex said breathlessly before kissing Michael again, hard, “I give you permission for that, too.”
Michael responded instantly, groaning against Alex’s lips and pressing his hips into Alex, trying his best to thrust without any room to move. Alex kept up the motion of his own hips, his cock rubbing against Michael’s, the friction enough to make everything else fade out, so that Michael was focused just on him and Alex, and the way their bodies fit together, and the fact that Alex wanted to make him cum in a closet with people just outside just because neither of them could keep their hands off one another once they started.
Alex pressed hard against Michael, circling his hips without breaking the contact of their bodies, and Michael barely contained a yell as his hips stuttered up towards Alex and he came, his legs shaking with the force of his orgasm.
It took only a moment more of Michael kneading the skin of Alex’s ass while Alex kept grinding his hips into Michael for Alex to moan quietly into Michael’s mouth, his movements stuttering erratically before slowing completely.
Michael could feel the cum soaking both of their briefs, and the urge to fall to his knees and lick Alex clean was only halted by the fact that there was literally not enough room. Alex sagged against Michael, rubbing his softening cock lightly against Michael, kissing him more softly now. They were both breathing heavily, and Michael tried to get his breathing under control quickly, suddenly incredibly aware that they were not as quiet as they’d meant to be, and he couldn’t even be sure how quick it had been, the moments stretching out as Alex leaned against him and kissed him lazily.
The sounds from outside the closet had faded, and Michael could hardly believe they’d been lucky enough to avoid catching anyone’s attention with how intense he'd felt their tryst was.
“Do you think they’re gone?” Michael asked and Alex giggled—there wasn’t another word for the lightness in Alex’s laugh, something Michael hadn’t heard in forever.
“I think so,” Alex said quietly. “I guess they didn’t hear us.”
Yeah, or they just didn’t want to burst in on two people who were obviously fucking a closet, Michael thought, but didn’t say out loud. Alex relaxed against Michael again, running his fingers softly through Michael’s hair while Michael stroked Alex’s lower back. It seemed to hit both of them at once that they would have to leave the closet, and Michael suddenly felt concerned that Alex was going to just walk away and he’d have to hold this in his memory with every other one time thing he’d had with Alex that haunted him.
“We should probably leave,” Alex said eventually. “Someone else might come in, and we should clean up.”
Michael nodded, and pulled the door open slowly with his mind, just in case someone was waiting to jump them when they emerged. It was just an empty room, though, and Alex spilled out of the closet, blinking into the light as he quickly pulled up and zipped his pants. Michael followed, rearranging his own clothing and trying not to feel as apprehensive as he suddenly did, remembering how he’d gotten here, remembering how irritated Alex had been.
"This way,” Alex said, leading Michael out of the room and gesturing down a dark hall. “Back exit.”
It took only a few moments for them to emerge outside, and Michael tried not to feel the concern settling over him. But instead of ushering Michael off and going back inside, or heading to his own car, Alex carefully took hold of Michael’s hand.
“We should talk,” he said slowly.
Michael nodded, staring off into the distance to avoid Alex’s eyes. Alex’s hand felt heavy in his, and soft, and real, and good—a good feeling on top of all the worry, floating in the same space as the satisfied part of him that wanted nothing more than to pull Alex down on the ground and do it all again. “We should.”
“Want to come over?” Alex said, nonchalantly, like he wasn’t making every part of Michael light up with happiness he’d been trying to prevent himself from feeling to avoid the loss when Alex took it away. “We could…talk. And maybe shower? And then, who knows.”
Michael looked up, startled. “Really?”
“Yeah, well your pants are full of cum,” Alex said, teasing. “So I figure I owe it to you to strip you down and clean you up.”
Michael grinned. “You really do.” He leaned forward, then stopped unsure if he was still allowed to kiss Alex, or if this was something they were only going to do in the safety of a closet or one of their homes.
Alex leaned in, closing the rest of the distance and kissing Michael softly, with promise. Sure, they had to talk, but this was more than Michael had been hoping for, and it was everything he wanted.
“You always have my permission to kiss me,” Alex said quietly before pulling away without letting go of Michael’s hand. “Now let’s get the hell out of here before we find out if there are security cameras in that closet.”
Michael laughed, almost certain Alex was making a joke, and let Alex pull him towards Michael’s truck.
We could do the turkey baster thing, whatever, you know? Sorry, I’m gonna need you to say more words. If you want a kid… I will raise the white walker, I will play the pink guitar. Okay stop. Are you telling me that you would… donate your alien baby gravy? I’m saying that I want a family. So if you want to be a mom someday, and you need an alien dad… Look, I know you would rather have a white picket fence, and a golden retriever, and a husband but– You would be an incredible father. Have I told you lately that I love you? I wish you had never said “baby gravy.”
Hi! Can I prompt 25 - "Your heart is beating too fast to be close to someone you don't care about." - for Malex?
Thankssss
more Nerd!Michael / BadBoy!Alex. Have their first flirty encounter... alternatively on AO3
****
There aren’t many classes that Alex enjoys. He pretty much hates everything except for his third period music class. But PE is by far the class that he hates the most. It’s not that he’s awful at sports. He’s decently coordinated, able to keep up enough, even if he’s far from a star athlete. And he’s in shape. His dad makes him run three miles every day. Five if he’s particularly pissed off that day. So in theory, PE should be easy for him. One of the few classes he gets an easy A.
It’s not. In fact, it’s absolute hell. All because Alex got put into PE with Kyle Valenti and the rest of the football team. Because the world hates him and wants him to suffer. Clearly.
The only redeeming thing about the class is that it’s one of only two classes this semester he has with Michael Evans. So when Alex is having an awful day, which is most days that he shows up for class, he can at least distract himself for forty minutes watching Michael. It’s one of Alex’s favorite pastimes. Has been for the last few years. Really, ever since freshman year. But his crush wasn’t fully formed until sophomore year. After the whole locker incident with Jackson, Alex has been in love with Michael. Hopelessly in love. Not that he’s ever told him as much.
No, Michael Evans isn’t the kind of boy who would ever look Alex’s direction, even if he were gay. In fact, if Michael Evans has ever been interested in anyone, Alex has never heard rumor of it. The boy spends virtually all of his time with his nose stuck in giant textbooks that no kid should be able to read. And the only two people in the world that Alex has ever seen Michael talk to are his siblings: Max and Isobel.
But even if Michael were to look up from his books long enough to be interested in somebody else, Alex is the last person he would pick. Michael’s probably attracted to smart, studious people who show up for class and care about things. Alex hasn’t cared about anything in years. At least, not anything related to school. What’s the point? Teachers made up their mind about him way back in middle school and that was it.
“Partner up!” Mr. Andrews yells, and Alex groans from his spot in the bleachers. If there are any two words in the English language Alex hates more, he’s yet to find them.
All the kids around him stand up and begin picking partners immediately, but Alex doesn’t bother rushing. He already knows how this story is going to end. There’s an odd number of students in the class and Alex is always, always the odd man out.
He should have skipped PE like he’d planned and texted Rosa to meet him out behind the bleachers. But he hadn’t. He’d still had his dad’s threats echoing around in his ear, warning him about getting anymore phone calls from the school. But really, he should have just skipped. The reality is, if his dad doesn’t beat him for skipping PE, he’ll find another excuse to do it.
Slowly, Alex moves to his feet and makes his way down the bleachers and up to Mr. Andrews, glaring at him for putting him in this situation time after time. “Can’t I just work alone?”
“No chance Manes. Hurry up and pick a partner,” Mr. Andrews says, barely even looking at him.
Alex rolls his eyes, not even bothering to look around the gym. He knows he won’t find anyone. “Fine, I’ll take a zero. Whatever.”
Mr. Andrews’ shoulders tense up like they always do when he’s winding up for a lecture on responsibility. But before he can begin what Alex is sure will be a riveting tale of participation points, the importance of socialization, and passing grades, a shy voice speaks up.
“Um, I actually need a partner.”
Alex’s heart skips a beat and his breath catches. He doesn’t need to turn around to know that voice, because he would know it anywhere.
“Evans, where’s your brother?” Mr. Andrews asks.
“In Santa Fe, sir,” Michael answers. “The creative writing club went on a field trip to visit a publishing house. He’ll be back on Thursday.”
Alex never thought he’d be thankful to homophobic Mrs. McHenry for anything a day in his life, but right now he’s ready to kiss her for taking Max Evans on a field trip.
Despite having had PE together all year, Alex hasn’t had a single opportunity to interact with Michael because he’s always glued to Max’s hip. Part of that weird sibling bond the three Evans kids all have together. Alex can’t relate. He went to high school with Flint for 3 years and he did everything he could to avoid him like the plague. But not Michael and Max. They are always partners. Always. And Alex has waited all year for a day when Max would be absent. Figuring one of these days he was bound to be sick or something, but he just never has been. The Evans kids never miss school. None of them. It’s crazy, especially when you consider that Michael is really the only one of them that’s all that nerdy or obsessed with grades.
“Well look at that Manes. Looks like you’ve got yourself a partner now. Problem solved,” Mr. Andrews says with a smirk, and though Alex would usually counter with a sassy remark of his own, just to push back, he’s honestly too distracted to worry much about what the man thinks.
He’s about to be Michael’s partner.
Michael moves to stand next to Alex, hugging the text book he brought with him to his chest and Alex is about to tease him about not leaving it in the locker room when he realizes how nervous Michael seems.
“Thank you,” Michael says before Alex can ask if he’s scared of him or something. It wouldn’t surprise him. Last week he heard there was a rumor going around that he set a kid on fire. The kids at this school say the dumbest shit. As if he’d still be at school if he actually set a kid on fire. “I know you didn’t want to do this, but if I didn’t find a partner, I’m pretty sure Andrews was gonna partner me up with Valenti.”
“You don’t like Valenti?” he asks, realizing they might actually have something in common they can talk about.
Michael shrugs, still holding that book to his chest like it’s some protective shield and Alex’s stomach sinks and his hands curl into fists. It doesn’t take someone with Michael’s level of genius to figure out that Michael’s getting bullied. Alex recognizes the signs of it easily enough and he’s ready to murder Kyle. Harassing Alex makes sense. He pushes back and is always escalating the situation, at least that’s what Mr. Fitzgerald always says. But Michael’s never done a damn thing to anyone a day in his life.
“Liz Ortecho is mad at me because they named valedictorian Monday and she didn’t get it,” Michael whispers as Mr. Andrews begins instructing the class. “So Valenti’s been defending her honor or something. It’s stupid. It’s not my fault that I have a higher GPA than her. It’s only because they give more credit for my math classes than hers because they’re at the community college. It’s… It’s whatever. Sorry, you don’t care about any of this. Just, thank you. With Max gone, I’m just… Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me Evans,” Alex says. “Valenti is a shit and shouldn’t be harassing you.”
“Harass— no, it’s not… It’s not that serious. It’s nothing. Truly,” Michael whispers, his eyes wide and Alex’s eyes narrow. He’s been on the receiving end of Kyle’s bullshit more times than he can count and it’s most certainly not nothing. He knows exactly what it looks like when somebody is trying to brush off bullying for fear that someone will try intervening and make it worse.
“Well whatever it is or isn’t, he’s not giving you shit today, okay?” he promises.
He’s not sure it’s a promise he can even keep, because it’s not like he can just follow Michael around the rest of the day just to make sure Kyle leaves him alone, that would be weird and creepy, but Alex will figure something out. Even if he has to pick a fight with Kyle in the hall so they both get sent home for the day.
“You don’t have to do that,” Michael says with a blush, but Alex can tell that he’s grateful and it makes his heart skip all the more to know that he’s said something right.
Michael turns his attention back to Mr. Andrews, forever a good student, even in a class as stupid as PE.
And with Michael’s attention fixated on the lesson, Alex takes the opportunity to watch Michael out of the corner of his eye. He’s always watched him from afar, but he’s not sure he’s ever been close enough to Michael to really take in all the details of his face. From the tiny scar on his cheek that’s barely noticeable to the dark eyelashes, to the way the sunlight streaming in from the window hits his curls, making them appear far more golden and blond than they usually do. He’s gorgeous. Even all awkward and nerdy, hugging his book to his chest and shifting back and forth on his feet, he’s gorgeous. And the craziest thing is that Alex is pretty sure he has absolutely no idea.
Out of nowhere a song pops into Alex’s head.
“With a dreamy, far-off look. And her nose stuck in a book, what a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle.”
Alex has to bite down a laugh, sure that Michael won’t appreciate being compared to a Disney princess, no matter how perfect the comparison actually is. Michael is most certainly the most beautiful boy in town. Not that he’s about to tell him.
The only reason Alex has managed to survive high school as long as he has is because he’s created a mask of complete indifference. Perfected it truly. Rosa taught him how years ago when the bullying started getting really bad and his dad was starting to figure out that Alex wasn’t going to turn out to be one of his perfect little soldiers.
When Micheal looks his way, Alex quickly diverts his eyes and decides it’s probably safer to watch Mr. Andrews instead and at least pretend to pay attention. Michael has always been incredibly kind to Alex, and the last thing he wants to do is make him uncomfortable with his crush, scaring off one of the only people in this school that doesn’t actively hate him.
“Any changes in your normal heart rate can indicate a health problem. In an emergency situation, you’re gonna want to determine if a person’s heart is pumping,” Mr. Andrews drowns on as if they haven’t all had the exact same lecture once a year ever since freshman year. Every spring, they all have a first aid week, and every year, the lessons are exactly the same. It’s so stupid. They could at least teach them something new.
Alex rolls his eyes and Mr. Andrews starts explaining the various places you can take somebody’s pulse, and that’s when it hits him. They are going to be checking each other’s pulse. Their hands are going to be on each other’s body. On their inner wrist, on their neck…
As subtly as he can, Alex tries to wipe his palms on his school issued sweatpants, hoping they aren’t too sweaty or gross. There’s nothing calm, cool, or unaffected about sweaty palms.
Mr. Andrews finishes his lecture and sends them off to practice on each other and everyone begins to spread out around the gym. Alex leads Michael to the opposite side of the gym from Kyle so that they aren’t close enough to incur his wrath should he choose to start in on them. Alex learned long ago that Mr. Andrews is the last person to count on for a helping hand. As head football coach, Mr. Andrews is going to believe his star quarterback every time when it’s his word against Alex’s. Not that there are many teachers in the building who are willing to believe Alex these days. Everyone’s already made up their mind about him, no doubt helped along by his father loudly telling anyone who will listen about how awful he is.
A delinquent.
That’s the word most often used to describe him. And maybe they're right. What the hell does Alex care anymore? In 9 weeks he’ll be out of this hell hole and on the first bus out of town. He doesn’t know where yet, but Rosa and he are thinking about New York. Or maybe San Francisco. Somewhere far away and with a thriving LGBTQ community.
“So, uh, do you want to go first?” Michael asks, setting his book down on the bleachers finally, and it feels a little bit like Michael is shedding his armor.
“You know, I wasn’t really paying attention, maybe you should go first,” he says.
“Of course you weren’t,” Michael says, but it’s missing the usual tone of annoyance that most people have when they talk to him. “Well lay down then. You’ve gotta pretend to be passed out.”
“Because you can’t take my pulse standing up?” he asks, because at this point, sass is second nature to him.
“Those were the directions,” Michael says, gesturing around the gym and when Alex looks around, he sees everyone else on the ground. “Listen I know it’s stupid, but can you just do it? I really don’t want to lose participation points today.”
And when Michael looks at him all sad and pleading, Alex can’t help but give in. If only because he’s pretty sure Michael is exactly the kind of high anxiety kid to cry over something as small as lost participation points in PE. “Alright fine, Evans.”
Alex lays down on the floor and places his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. One, because a nap really does sound divine after he barely slept last night. Sleeping in the toolshed is great because it means he gets to avoid his father, but it also sucks because it means he spends most of the night wide awake from the combination of howling wildlife, an uncomfortable futon, and cold temperatures. But two, because if his hands are behind his head, he can’t do anything stupid like reach out and touch Michael.
“I’m gonna look for a pulse now,” Michael says.
“You do whatever you gotta do,” he responds.
When Michael’s fingers touch his neck, Alex is surprised at how warm they feel. He opens his eyes and for a second, he could swear he sees Michael staring at his lips, licking his own, but it’s fleeting and Michael instantly looks away with a blush.
An actual blush. For the next minute, Michael’s eyes remain glued to his watch and Alex can see him silently counting as his fingers press against his neck.
“60,” Michael announces, pulling his hands back away, and there’s something in the way he says it nervously that is different than Alex is used to hearing. It’s not fear. At least, it’s not fear in the way he expects from his classmates. His eyes study Michael carefully, roaming up and down his body trying to read him. And that’s when he notices how much he’s fidgeting, clearly trying to adjust his pants without anyone noticing.
But Alex notices and he about chokes when he does.
Michael doesn’t have a full on erection, but there’s enough of a tent for Alex to be certain he’s actually seeing what he’s seeing. Just the simple act of touching Alex’s neck got Michael half-hard.
Alex smirks as he sits up and Michael avoids looking him in the eyes.
“60 is good. Uh, healthy,” Michael says as he looks around for something, but what, Alex has no idea.
He’s flustered. Michael is all worked up. And over him! A swell of confidence moves through him. Excitement. Is it actually possible? Could Michael be attracted to him? There’s really only one way for Alex to find out…
“Your turn,” Alex says and Michael looks like a deer caught in the headlights. It shouldn’t look as cute as it does, but the whole quiet, loner, shy boy thing has always done something for him.
Michael shakes his head and grabs his book off the bleachers, not so discreetly putting it in his lap.
“It’s fine. We don’t have to. I know you don’t really do the whole school assignment thing,” Michael says. His words come out quick and nervous. Alex doesn’t miss the fact that his eyes, while unable to meet his own, keep drifting to his lips. “We can just tell Andrews that you already went.”
Alex gasps and moves in closer, not missing the way Michael’s cheeks flush and his pupils dilate.
“And lie to a teacher? Michael Evans, are you proposing we cheat?” he asks in mock outrage, having entirely too much fun the more the knowledge sinks in that Michael is into him.
“Cheat? What? No. I just — We—” Michael sighs deeply, his shoulders sinking. “Yeah. Okay.”
And that’s no fun, Alex isn’t trying to harass the poor guy. He doesn’t want to embarrass him, he just wants to have some fun. He’s never had anyone actually like him before, even just sexually, which is all he assumes this is. Michael’s having some homosexual panic and Alex is the gay man that happened to be close to him at the time. But that’s more than alright. Alex is perfectly content to be Michael’s little sexual experiment, if that’s what he’s into.
“Hey, I’m just kidding,” Alex says, sincerely. Because as much as people might not believe it, he’s not actually an asshole. “If you don’t want me touching you, I won’t.”
Michael takes a deep breath, running his hands over his hair nervously before laying down on the ground. “No, I want you touching me.”
The moment he says it, Michael’s eyes grow wide and he begins to blush again and Alex can’t help himself.
“Really?” he asks, raising an amused eyebrow as Michael covers his face with both of his hands.
“Not like that I… Fuck.”
Alex can’t help but laugh in surprise. “Did Michael Evans just swear?”
He’s impressed, honestly. He didn’t think he had it in him. Of course, Michael is full of surprises today.
“Can you please stop using my full name like that?” he asks. And Alex notices how Michael’s hips are still shifting around non-stop.
And he figures he may as well go for broke because it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna lose here. “Why? Does it turn you on?”
Michael’s hands drop to his sides as he glares at Alex. “No,” he says, his chin up defiantly, even as he can tell that it’s a lie.
Michael reaches out with two fingers to place them on Michael’s neck seeking out his pulse. His skin is warm and soft and Alex actively has to remind himself that he’s only allowed to touch his neck. Amused as he is, as much as he’s convinced Michael wants him, he’s not going to touch him without clear permission.
“Do you want to know what I think?” he says, unable to stop himself from smiling at this delicious turn of events.
“I feel like you’re gonna tell me anyway,” Michael says, his voice resigned to his fate as his hips stop squirming.
“I think you like me.”
Alex begins to count Michael’s heartbeats as he sputters underneath him, struggling and failing to come up with a response.
“Your heart is beating too fast to be close to somebody you don’t care about,” Alex says, raising his eyebrow, daring him to say otherwise.
“Mr. Andrews?” Michael’s hand shoots up in the air as he scrambles to his feet, nearly knocking Alex over in the process. Their teacher comes over to stand above Alex.
“What’s up Evans?”
“Can I go to the nurse? I’m not feeling well,” he says and Alex can’t help but snort in response earning him a suspicious look from Mr. Andrews.
“Sure Evans.”
Michael grabs his book and leaves quickly, and though nobody else probably notices, Alex can tell that he’s walking just the slightest bit funny. Because he’s got a hard on. For Alex.
Alex gave a boy an actual hard on. And it didn’t end with Alex getting punched in the face and called some homophobic slur. He can’t stop smiling.
“What did you do?” Mr. Andrews asks, glaring down at him.
“Nothing, Jesus,” Alex says, rolling his eyes as he stands up.
“Couldn’t help but be a dick could you? You know he’s one of the good ones right? Doesn’t deserve your crap,” Mr. Andrews says it, then walks away before Alex can respond.
And Alex can’t even find it in himself to be all that pissed off. Because Andrews is right. Michael is one of the good ones. And he likes him. He actually likes him.
