Michael heard Alex scream, and he bolted up on the couch where he’d been crashing.
“Alex,” he breathed, and all but fell to the ground as he scrambled to get up, getting tangled up in the sheets.
He ran down the corridor and, without giving it any thought, swung Alex’s bedroom door wide open to find the airman sitting up in bed, his eyes wide. He was hugging himself, panting hard.
“Alex, hey,” Michael sat beside him, taking his face in his hands. His heart sank. The room was freezing, but Alex was in a cold sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and nape of his neck. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, baby.”
“The planes,” Alex tried, his voice cracking and panicked from the lack of use, “the planes are coming!”
Michael swallowed the lump in his throat, pulling Alex in against his chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Alex was trembling.
“It’s okay,” he repeated soothingly. “It was just a dream, Alex. You’re okay.”
Alex shook his head, as if he didn’t dare believe Michael. “The explosions … they were so loud. Every—everyone was screaming.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Michael whispered, one arm tight around Alex’s shoulders, keeping him pressed against Michael’s chest, the other hand running up and down the airman’s hair, his spine, his arms – whatever Michael could reach.
They sat like that for a while, the room slowly bathed in light as the sun rose outside. Alex’s trembling form started to calm until he was completely still in Michael’s hold. And still, Michael held on, his nose pressed to Alex’s hair, inhaling his scent, if only to remind himself that his airman was no longer hiding in a trench somewhere, but here with him, in his arms.
When Michael had been offered Alex’s couch, he’d never expected he’d get within arm’s length of Alex, let alone get to have him like this. He knew he was selfish now, for even a small part of him to be satisfied that he had an excuse to touch Alex again, but it was only when Alex’s breaths turned slow and deep, his body turning warm under his touch, that Michael felt himself about to finally breathe.
Michael’s eyes fluttered shut as Alex’s soft strands tickled his jaw and cheeks. He kept expecting Alex to push him away at any second, but the airman remained in his hold as long as Michael kept him close, and the cowboy couldn’t see himself letting go any time soon.
It was only when he dared to press his lips to Alex’s forehead in a kiss that he felt Alex stir in his arms, turning his head away.
Once the two were apart, Michael watched – his body now cold after losing Alex – as Alex wrung his hands together tightly, anxiously, over the sheets on his lap.
Michael pursed his lips and shook his head, but said nothing. He missed Alex’s warmth, his scent, his soft hair and even softer skin.
“You … you usually get nightmares like that?”
For a moment, Alex said nothing, and Michael wondered whether or not it was even his place to ask, whether he’d crossed some line. Then –
“Sometimes,” Alex said quietly.
He sighed, pressing the bottoms of his palms into his eyes. Michael reached out a hand, let it hover over Alex’s shoulders, then pulled away.
“You – uh – you need me to get you anything? Water, or …?”
Alex looked momentarily startled, as if he’d expected Michael to run out the second he’d gotten the chance. “N-no, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Alex, if you need me to –”
“Really,” he said a little brightly, his smile small. “I can take care of myself.”
Michael had no idea what to say to that. It was clear, by the scrunch of Alex’s shoulders, the way he pointedly avoided Michael’s eyes, the way his body turned away from the cowboy’s, that he wanted Michael to leave.
Michael should’ve refused to, he should’ve told Alex that he didn’t need to do everything himself, not now that Michael was here with him. But just as he opened his mouth to say any of that, Alex swung his legs off the other side of the bed.
“I’m going to go wash up,” he said, grabbing his crutches and pulling himself up. “You should try to get some more sleep.”
“Take the bed,” Alex smiled. “I owe you, for waking you in the first place.”
Before Michael could argue, Alex was out the door. Michael stared after him, knowing he should follow, but also knowing that he would not be welcome to.
Slowly, and continuously glancing at the door to make sure Alex hadn’t returned, Michael fell back onto the pillows, taking Alex’s and hugging it tightly, deeply inhaling Alex’s scent. Michael sighed with a slight whimper in his throat, absorbing Alex’s warmth on the mattress and in the sheets.
He had no memory of falling back to sleep, but he soon woke up with Alex’s pillow against his chest, Alex standing in the doorway in a white sweater and blue sweatpants, his arms crossed.
Michael realized too late that he’d had his leg slung over the pillow, and let it go so quickly that he nearly fell off the bed. Alex looked down, and for a split second, Michael caught the upward quirk of an amused smirk. But as he blinked, the smile was gone, and he thought that maybe he’d imagined it.
“L-lunch?” Michael rubbed the sleep from his eyes. When he looked back at Alex, he saw the airman quickly look away, his cheeks pink. Michael’s heart jumped. Had Alex been staring at him?
“It’s past noon,” Alex said. “You’ve been asleep for a while.”
“Seriously?” Michael stood, and swayed on his feet a moment. It didn’t make sense. He’d never slept so long, never so comfortably, never so that when he woke up, he had trouble staying awake.
Alex laughed, and quickly stifled it, but not before Michael’s heart did little cartwheels in his chest. He had made Alex laugh. He was so confused. He wish he knew what he’d done.
“Maybe you should go back to sleep, if you’re really tired,” Alex suggested, and Michael shook his head, crossing over to the doorframe. As he did, he noticed that Alex never quite met his eyes.
“No, I can’t – I have work at the junkyard today.”
Alex hummed, and turned back toward the corridor, their short conversation ended. Michael barely saw Alex the rest of the day. They had lunch together in comfortable silence, every so often, Michael itched to reach forward and touch his hand, to wipe the bit of bread from Alex’s lip, to nearly launch across the table as Alex’s tongue darted out and licked the bread off instead.
By the time Michael had gone to leave, Alex was outside with his computer. When he’d come back, it was well past midnight, and his body was aching.
Michael, normally, would’ve plopped down on the couch and gone to sleep, but it was as if his legs had a mind of their own. Before Michael realized what he was doing, he found himself in Alex’s bedroom, standing by the open door. Alex was curled up in bed on his side, the blanket at his hips.
Michael leaned against the doorframe, watching him for what felt like half an hour. Finally, when he was sure Alex wouldn’t wake, he quietly stepped inside and pulled Alex’s blanket up to his shoulder. His fingers brushed the skin revealed beneath the wide collar, then he brought his hand up Alex’s neck, his eyes fluttering at the touch of the warm, soft skin.
Michael felt his body vibrate, every cell in his body urging him to touch Alex, to feel him against him. He knew why he hadn’t been able to sleep until he’d been in Alex’s bed – he was never at peace until he was with Alex.
Michael hesitated for what must’ve been hours, then he silently kicked off his boots and left his hat on the nightstand. He knew he probably reeked, his body having been damp with sweat until a few hours ago, but as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand roaming up and down Alex’s waist, he felt exhaustion already overwhelming.
He stretched along the airman’s back, wrapping an arm around his waist. His eyes burned as he pressed his lips to Alex’s hair, then kissed the nape of his neck. He thought of the coming morning, when Alex would undoubtedly kick him out, disgusted with him. But just tonight, he wanted to feel Alex close. He wanted the thoughts and hopes and yearning for Alex that had been flooding his mind since he’d come to stay at the airman’s home to be a reality, if only for a short time.
He buried his face in the crook of Alex’s neck, kissing the skin there hard, his arm wrapped around the airman’s waist tighter.
You won’t hate me, will you, Private? I’m your Michael. You’d never hate me.
But even as he thought this, his jaw clenched painfully. Then he felt Alex’s hand on his around his waist, and he gasped.
Alex looked like he was still asleep, and his hand on Michael’s was slow and gentle, as if, even in his sleep, he wanted to take his time touching Michael, feeling his skin.
“Baby,” Michael breathed, holding Alex so tightly against him that it must’ve hurt. Still, Alex’s thumb brushed the back of Michael’s wrist, keeping him close.
Michael nuzzled the crook of Alex’s neck, breathing him in. He fell asleep to Alex’s warmth.
Just some mindless fluff.
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