1 almost lover // 2 don't let me go // 3 i found // 4 seaweed // 5 sandstorm // 6 i can't get over you // 7 half a world away // 8 land locked blues // 9 winterbreak // 10 stoned on you // 11 first defeat // 12 hey that's no way to say goodbye // 13 poison and wine // 14 gravity // 15 road again // 16 the last time // 17 the night we met // 18 a case of you // 19 hope to die // 20 cold desert // 21 everything // 22 homeward these shoes // 23 two slow dancers
its been a long as fuck week but yāall know I had to write something for smut dayĀ ;)
Iāve actually had this in my WIPs since 3x08 aired but couldnāt get it to go for some reason so this was a good incentive to figure out what wasnāt working and get it done. hope you enjoy!
(EXTREMELY e-rated below the cut jsyk)
āāā
Most people laughed when Michael suggested he might want to be tied down.
Metaphorically or literally, it didnāt matter. Heād had a lot of acquaintances and assignations over the years, and almost all of them had laughed at one or the other, at the idea he might relish the thought of tying himself to others for more than a nightāor, more often, since he didnāt usually get that vulnerable with people, at the idea that he was into bondage, on the receiving end.
Even Isobel had laughed, when he made the mistake of getting drunk with her some time some low night and letting her goad him into Never Have I Ever. It wasnāt malicious laughterāshe just found it funny that someone with telekinesis could get anything out of restraints that couldnāt possibly hold him.
And it wasnāt like Michael could explain it either. How the weight of cuffs around his wrists and ankles made him feel secure, how rope tying him to a bed set him free. It wasnāt about being restrained. It wasnāt about any illusion of danger or control. It was something else. It was a statement of intent. If someone wanted him enough to go out of their way to tie him up, tie him down, it meant they wanted to keep him.
But it wasnāt like he could just explain that.
He never had to explain, with Alex. It was part of the reason touch was such a reliable language for them. They simply understood each other on their fingertips, skin to skin, the way they never did with words. Alex didnāt blink when he wrapped his hands around Michaelās wrists and Michael went limp, letting him guide his limbs anywhere he wanted them. He didnāt say a word when Michael hauled him on top of him, when Michael spread his legs and put Alex in between them, laying on his chest, pressing him, down, down, to his bed, to the bed of his truck. Alex wanted all those things too, when his hand found the back of Michaelās neck and held him all heavy and hard and turned Michaelās knees to jelly, made his brain all empty, made himā¦
Made his entropy change. Shook him like a string in full strum. Made him sing.
So I had big plans of finishing my next smutty installment to the Alex Manes is a Bad Boyfriend (but a Phenomenal Husband) series in time for Malex Week Day 4: Smut Day... But it's been a DAY and I'm already 10k into this fic and there's no end in sight. So rather than post the entire thing like planned... I'm gonna post about 3k of one of the smutty parts as a tease and will post the entire thing to AO3 when it's done.
Warnings for sexting and infidelity
****
Alex Manes is a Horribly Boyfriend (excerpt)
He pushes his way past a sea of sequins and glitter that just remind him how much this isnāt his scene and finally manages to make his way to the bathroom. The moment heās in a stall with the door locked behind him, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to see that heās missed 12 texts from Michael.
Heās such a fucking menace, Alex thinks to himself as he smiles and opens up the string of missed texts.
Michael 8:43pm: Sad we didnāt get to watch the sunset together, but Maria says youāre coming out tonight. Canāt wait š
Michael 8:43pm: And if youāre wonderingā¦ I wore that white sweater youāre so fond of.
Michael 8:44pm: Kind of hoping youāll destroy it. Make a real messā¦ Itās been too long.
Michael 8:49pm: [Image attached]
Michael 8:49pm: Figured Iād give you a little preview.
The picture of Michael is good. He looks as sexy as he ever has, possibly even more. Alexās eyes roam over the scruff thatās getting longer, promising some pleasurable beard burn in his future. His curls are also longer than usual, falling into his face and begging to be fisted as Alex directs those sinful lips of his to his dick.
Fuck, Alex is already getting hard as his eyes fall to Michaelās, that are nearly black with lust. Michaelās not wrong either about the effect that white sweater always has when he notices the background.
Alex zooms in on the photo to find a rather large dildo sitting on his bed next to a bottle of lube and some used tissues that leaves little to the imagination. Alex bites his lip to hold back a moan even as his heart clinches in longing. While Alex had been stuck with Forrest all afternoon, heād missed out on an opportunity to be the one to bring Michael to orgasm.
Pictures like this were fun when he was on the road and couldnāt have Michael. The way Michael would tease him with detailed texts and pictures or the occasional video, discussing how he always jerked himself off to thoughts of Alex? It was intoxicating. And Alex was always sure to reward Michael with pictures of his own. But Alex isnāt on the other side of the country anymore and this isnāt fun. This hurts.
Alex is right here in Roswell and that orgasm was supposed to be Alexās. It would have been Alexās if only Forrest had stuck to the original plan to meet up with Alex at the Pony when he got off work.
Alex looks back down at the picture and tries to push down his anger at Forrest and focus instead on how sexy Michael looks. After all, Alex is back for good and he and Michael have all the time in the world. Their orgasms donāt have to be rushed anymore. Thereās nothing hanging over their heads anymore. No Jesse Manes to look out for. No Project Shepherd to fear. No more deployments in his future. They have time.
Michael 9:12pm: Where are you? Maria said you were supposed to get here by 8?
Michael 9:15pm: I want you to drag me into the bathroom and fuck me over the sink the moment you get here. Fuck whatever polite small talk youāre going to be obligated to participate in. Just fuck me as hard and fast as you can. I need youā¦
Michael 9:15pm: Iāve already prepped myself and everything š
Alexās pants grow impossibly tighter as he imagines doing just that. Walking through the door and dragging Michael directly into the bathroom with barely more than a hello to their friends. Pulling Michaelās pants down, bending him over the sink, and burying himself into that beautiful ass of Michaelās that was made just for Alex.
Fuck, he wants that so badly.
Michael 9:17pm: God, Iāve been thinking about that big cock of yours all day. Iām not sure Iāll be able to stop myself from dropping to my knees and blowing you right here in the open for all to seeā¦
Michael 9:18pm: I bet your boyfriend wouldnāt like that too much now would he?
Michael 9:19pm: Does he know how to blow you like I do? Does he get you off like I do? I bet he doesnātā¦
Michael is right, Forrest doesnāt. He tries, but itās hardly Forrestās fault. Alex isnāt sure that there is a human alive that could give a blow job as well as Michael Guerin. Alex is convinced itās a uniquely alien thing. Or perhaps even just a uniquely Michael thing. And god, does Alex want Michaelās lips around his dick tonight. He closes his eyes and pictures Michael on his knees in front of him, blowing him in the bathroomā¦ His boyfriend on the other side of this bathroom wall, completely oblivious.
Thereās something dangerous about it that Alex finds thrilling.
He unzips his pants in an attempt to find some relief as his dick grows completely hard thinking about Michael sitting there prepped and ready. His ass open and wet, waiting for Alexās dick to slide easily inside. Alex reaches down to touch himself as he wonders if Michael is wearing those jeans of his with the indecent hole in the inner thigh that grows larger and larger every time he wears them. Last time Alex had seen them, when heād stopped by after the funeral, the hole had been large enough for Alex to slip two fingers through it and find their way to Michaelās hole.
Alex bites back a moan and squeezes his dick tight at the memory, not wanting to get caught jerking off in the bathroom. Though heās sure Planet 7 has seen way worse. Alex wonders if Michael even bothered with underwear today. He so rarely does.
His phone pings with a text and he looks down at his phone to see he has another message from Michael.
Michael 9:30pm: Okay, all jokes aside. Where are you? Youāre making me worried.
Alex rolls his eyes, but not at Michael. If anything, Michaelās worry warms his heartā¦ Which he tries not to read too much into because just last week a similar text from Forrest had about driven Alex up a wall. No, heās not frustrated with Michael. Heās frustrated that heās not at the Pony right now drinking with his friends and making plans to fuck Michael in the bathroom.
Alex presses the call button and brings his phone to his ear as his hand continues to pump himself in an attempt to tame the intense need heās feeling.
āHey, where are you? Weāre getting worried. Mariaās about to send out a search party,ā is the first thing Michael says when he picks up.
Alex sighs deeply. āIām at Planet 7.ā
Michael doesnāt respond right away. He listens for a minute or two as the sound of live music and drinking shenanigans fades into the background.
āYou sound miserable,ā Michael says, his tone changing in a way that tells Alex that Michael is alone, away from listening ears. Thereās a softness ā something unguarded and open ā that only ever comes into Michaelās voice when they are in private spaces.
God, Alex loves that voice. His heart pulls painfully, demanding him to go seek it out. Needing to be wherever Michael is.
āI am miserable,ā he admits.
God, heās such a horrible boyfriend.
āLet me guess, it was Forrestās idea?ā Michael asks and when Alex doesnāt respond, Michael continues. āWell you canāt stay there all night. You havenāt seen any of us in months. Maria and Liz are demanding your attention.ā
āJust Maria and Liz?ā he asks, teasingly, his hand still pumping his dick though itās lost its purpose. His need is still there but itās more of an afterthought. Something simmering in the background.
āIām pretty sure my demand for your attention has already been made obvious. Or did you not open my Snapchat?ā Michael says, his voice dropping a whole octave, causing Alexās dick to twitch with renewed interest.
Alex groans. He didnāt even check his Snapchat. But considering how explicit Michaelās texts tonight had been, Alex can only imagine how filthy the snap will be.
āWhy donāt you tell me what you want me to do to you?ā Alex says. Michael lets out a moan and Alexās hand fists tighter around his own dick. āTell me what you were thinking about when you used that dildo of yours today to come all over your bed.ā
āSaw that did you?ā Michael asks and Alex canāt help but chuckle.
āYou had to know I would,ā he says. āI should punish you for starting without me.ā
āWouldnāt have had to if youād have let me drive you out to the desert like we planned,ā Michael says, and though there is teasing in his voice, Alex can also hear the disappointment there. Heās about to apologize again, but Michael doesnāt give him the chance. āTell me, did he fuck you?ā
āWhat?ā he asks, a bit taken back by the question.
āYour little boyfriend. When he picked you up, did he fuck you? Was it hard and fast like you like? Did he make you come until you cried? Was it good?ā Michael asks, and while thereās no bite to his words, Alex feels every one like a stab to the heart.
āItās not like that with him,ā he admits, a bit embarrassed to do so.
Michael is quiet for a long moment. Long enough that Alex starts to grow uncomfortable and pulls his hands out of his pants, wiping off the bit of precome there on some toilet paper.
āI thought thatās what you liked,ā Michael says, sounding insecure.
āIt is,ā he rushes to clarify, because he doesnāt want Michael to think that the desperate way they are together isnāt exactly what gets Alex off. āTrust me, Iād have rather been with you.ā
He can hear Michael suck in a breath before he says. āThat bad?ā
Alex is about to say yes. His first instinct is to complain about how awful sex with Forrest has become, but he stops himself. Forrest isnāt bad in bed. Heās an incredibly attentive lover. Heāll spend hours kissing and touching Alex softly, almost reverently. Heās regularly asking if things are good for Alex and if he likes what Forrest is doing. He makes sure that Alex gets off every single time they are together. In terms of bed partners, Alex has had way worse than Forrest Long.
Alex isnāt sure whatās wrong with him. When Forrest had taken him home this afternoon, heād been incredibly sweet. Heād undressed Alex slowly, kissing every last glimpse of bare skin. Heād been so attentive, lavishing Alex with praises. And sure, when Alex had rolled Forrest onto his stomach, Forrest had sat up and given him a confused, āWhat are you doing?ā that had been more than a little frustrating. In fact, it had made him feel dirty and wrong for wanting something a little less vanilla. Thatās how Forrest makes him feel a lot these daysā¦ Wrong.
But Forrest had made up for that hadnāt he? Hadnāt he taken his time really opening Alex up? Hadnāt he slowly thrust into him while reminding Alex of how deeply he was missed. Of how much he was loved? And when Forrest had come and Alex wasnāt even close, hadnāt Forrest rolled him over onto his back and given him a blow job for close to forty mintues before Alex had come?
Doesnāt it make him a horrible boyfriend to not appreciate that kind of adoration? That level of attention?
God, Alex is an asshole for even considering telling Michael that Forrest isnāt a good lover.
But Alex has always been a bit of an asshole, and Michael knows as much. Alex doesnāt have to pretend to be anything heās not around Michael and thatās freeing.
Itās why Michael knows that Alex doesnāt want sweet. He wants complete desire. He wants pure lust. He wants somebody to rip his clothes off because unbuttoning them will take too long. He wants somebody to devour him. He wants somebody thatās going to try and infuse themselves into his skin. He wants to be left with handshape bruises on his hips and bite marks on his ass. He wants somebody thatās going to pull his hair and demand to be fucked harder. He wants desperation. He wants need. He wants his skin set on fire and his orgasm to be an exaltation.
He wants to feel like he is the answer to his partnerās every prayer. He wants trust and control while at the same time he wants to experience complete abandon.
He wants Michael.
āNot everyone can be Michael Guerin,ā Alex says, the words leaving his mouth effortlessly without him even thinking about what heās saying. They are the truthā¦ But perhaps that doesnāt make them fair.
āAlexā¦ā Michael doesnāt finish that thought, and Alex isnāt sure that he wants him to. Not when he knows exactly what Michael wants to say. What Michael always wants to say but never does.
This thing Alex is doing? Itās selfish and itās not fair to anyone.
For months, heās been giving excuses as to why he stays with Forrest. But at the end of the day, thatās all they are. Excuses. The real reason that Alex is with Forrest is that Alex knows heās destined to break everything he touches, and breaking Forrest seems like a far better option than breaking Michael. Thereās less risk in dating Forrest. Less to lose when he eventually fucks it all up.
But now that heās home and thereās no longer thousands of miles between himself and his bad decisions, Alex is starting to realize what an idiot he is. Because this thing heās been doing with Michael? It hasnāt been without risk. Alex isnāt oblivious. He knows that it hurts Michael that Alex is still with Forrest. He doesnāt have to say it for Alex to see itās true. It was just easier to pretend he could have Michael without consequence.
But the truth is this:
Alex Manes is and always will be a horrible boyfriend. And Michael Guerin deserves better than that.
But Michael also deserves better than being treated like some fucktoy Alex only keeps around for the orgasm. Alex knows that. But heās never been able to step away from Michael, not completely. How is he supposed to resist those eyes? Those lips? Those curls? Those damn one-liners?
Fuck.
Out on the road, it had been easier. Out on the road, all he had to offer were phone calls and text messages. And when they were separated by so much distance, that was more than acceptable. But now that Alex is home? Michael is going to want more. He deserves moreā¦ And Alex has no idea how to give him that.
Forrest was supposed to be his practice. Alex was supposed to learn how to be the good, doting boyfriend from dating Forrest. But that hardly panned out the way he planned.
āIām sorry,ā he eventually says and he can hear the disappointed sigh Michael lets out at the words.
āHey, it is what it is, right?ā Michael says.
āYou know Iād rather be at the Pony,ā he says.
āNah, Planet 7 isnāt so bad,ā Michael says. āThe bartender is hot and if you tip well, heās got a healthy pour. Plus, the bathroom stalls accommodate two people way more comfortably.ā
āDo I wanna know how you know that?ā he asks and Michael just laughs, the serious mood from earlier thankfully gone for the moment.
āAll Iāll say is that I look damn good in glitter and clean up well when I want to,ā Michael says and Alex can picture it. Michael with his disregard for buttons, glitter covering his chest, the light hitting him just soā¦ Heās sure Michael has guys eating out of the palm of his handā¦ Among other things.
āI donāt doubt it,ā he says, feeling a pang of jealousy that he wasnāt around to see it. That things couldnāt be different for them. Alex has a feeling that he wouldnāt mind Planet 7 so much with Michael at his side.
āHey, no, none of that,ā Michael says. āHereās what weāre going to do. Iām going to gather everyone and weāre gonna come to you.ā
āYou donāt have toāā he starts to protest, but Michael cuts him off.
āNope. We canāt have a welcome home party without our guest of honor. Weāre coming to you. Maria has plenty of staff tonight, she can afford to take the night. Weāll see you in a bit,ā Michael says.
Alex knows he should argue, but he canāt lie, the idea of seeing his friends does make his heart feel a little lighter.
āThank you,ā he whispers.
āAlways,ā Michael says with a level of sincerity that almost brings tears to Alexās eyes. Heās saved from having to find an acceptable response to such a heavy declaration when Michael clears his throat and adds a teasing, āDonāt say I didnāt warn you about the glitter.ā
Alex canāt help but laugh. āIām fully prepared.ā
āOh, I highly doubt that. But I know the bathroom leaves packets of lube out so we can make sure you are,ā he says. Itās over the top and from any other guy, it would be obnoxious and too much. But Michael isnāt just any guy and from him, itās just right. Just enough to make him laugh and lift his spirits.
Knowing Michael, along with his other friends, will be here soon helps ease the anger and frustration thatās been growing in his heart.
āSee you soon,ā Alex says with a smile and waits for Michaelās, āCanāt wait,ā before hanging up.
Before Alex does anything else, he opens up his Snapchat to find a missed video from Michael. Turning the volume down low, he plays the video and instantly, heās met with the sweat soaked, well-fucked image of Michael close to orgasm. The camera is trained on his face, but the angle is such that heās clearly using his powers to take the video. Heās moaning as he stares right into the camera and Alex wishes he could turn the volume up to hear him better.
Already his dick is starting to fill again with need.
As the camera pans out, he can see that Michael is on his knees, one hand firmly on the headboard while the other is wrapped around his dick. An invisible force is fucking that dildo into him with a relentless pace and Alex bites both of his lips to keep from crying out. The video is practically obscene, but Alex loves it.
He can just barely hear Michael crying out, āFuck me! God, Alex, fuck me harder.ā
And all Alex can do is start to pump his own hand in pace with Michael, imagining that heās there, thrusting into Michael with complete abandon.
And then the video ends with Michael coming, painting his sheets with strips of white that Alex wishes he could swallow down.
Itās not enough. His own dick throbs with need and Alex continues to pump himself rough and wild, chasing after orgasm. With one hand, he pulls down his menu screen and does a screen recording so he can rewatch this video to his heartās content. He knows Michael will see that heās saved the video, but he doesnāt care. Michael had to know that wasnāt the kind of thing he could watch only once.
Moments later, he gets another Snapchat message from Michael that simply says, āThought youād enjoy that video š¤¤ That orgasm shouldāve been yours.ā
Alex takes a quick picture of himself, sure thatās he makes quite the sight with his dick out and slick with precome in the middle of a public bathroom and his eyes blown wide with lust.
Michaels response is instant. āDonāt you dare come without me. Iām 15 minutes away.ā
isn't anyone trying to find me // won't somebody come take me home
Five times Michael waits for his family to find him, and one time he finds a family for himself
For Malex Week Day 4: Free Day.
Iāve had this idea sitting in my google docs for a while. I read an article about playing hide and seek being good for childrenās developing attachment and I had emotions about Michael Guerin. I was inspired to actually do something about it today because I wanted to write something for @lambourngb who always gifts this fandom with her wonderful writing. Thank you for always giving me all of the Michael feels, and for encouraging me to write as well. You are a treasure to share a fandom with.
Title is from Iām With You by Avril Lavigne.
Read it on AO3
i.
He didnāt remember much. Just flashes of warm hands on his skin, soft hair brushing his face, and a voice in his mind telling him that everything was going to be okay. If you wake up and Iām not there, stay with the others. If we get separated, I will find you. I promise. Ā
He sat on the cold ground and squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to remember anything else. Willing the others to come out of their pods so that he wouldnāt be alone. He didnāt want to be alone.
He had thought about exploring, seeing what lay beyond the walls surrounding their pods. Maybe his mother was just outside waiting for him. Maybe she was here and didnāt know that he had come out of the pod. He wanted more than anything for that to be true. But he couldnāt leave without the others. What if he came back and they were gone? And he couldnāt bear the thought of exiting this cavern to look for his mother, only to find that the three of them were well and truly alone.
As long as he sat here waiting, his mother could be just around that corner.
So he sat. And he waited, shivering in the cool night air. Arms wrapped around his knees and heart wrapped around the hope that everything was going to be okay.
Written for day 3 of malex week 21, "seventeen again", with also huge inspiration from day 2, "home".
/!\ There is mention of the 1x06 shed scene and of canon child abuse
This is mostly a Michael introspection, with a flashback to 2008, and Sanders being a good dad. Hope you enjoy! š (Read it on ao3)
Home. That word, for the longest time, was foreign to Michael. He was living on this pile of rock people called Earth, looking to the stars, waiting for his family to come around and pick him up. And then, once they would come, he would be home.
But no one ever came down from the sky, no one brought him back home.
Growing up, being thrown around the foster system, he never had a place to call home. When the school asked for his home to list in their system, he wrote down the address of the drunk who he was staying with.
But it was just an address, a roof over his head. Definitely not the home all the other kids had, with hot meals as a family, goodnight kisses and help with homework.
He ran away at the first opportunity he had, getting on a bus and going to the last place he saw his family. Roswell. But even there, there was no such thing as home. More drunks, people who only cared about the paycheck and not about the kids they had under their roof.
And so Michael ran again, living in his truck, the one he paid with his own money, as soon as he was old enough to work and earn a paycheck of his own. But the bed of a truck did not make a home.
When he was 19, an old airstream showed up at the junkyard. The old piece of metal was in a dreadful state, barely holding together. He convinced old man Sanders that he could fix it up, and after many long nights, he finally got a glimpse of a home.
He moved his airstream every few weeks, not wanting the cops to catch onto him, but never going far from Roswell. After a few years, however, he settled by Fosterās ranch, the last place he had any real connection to, on this miserable pile of rocks.
But even then, he had been kicked out. Forced out of the only place he had ever dared called home. The airstream held all of Michaelās life - from alien tech to photographs of when life seemed worth fighting for.
Out of all the places in Roswell, his airstream parked near Fosterās ranch was the only one that 28 year old Michael Guerin considered home. Sure, there was the junkyard where he worked, but he always felt bad for stealing under the old manās nose. One may also consider the Wild Pony as his home, with how often he could be found sitting on a stool getting drunk, of the Sheriff detention cell, with how often he got arrested.
And as much as he enjoyed his time at the junkyard or at the Pony, he had his guard up, didnāt let his defences down until the door to the airstream was closed and he didnāt have to worry about the real world. Where he could let it all out, the pain, the solitude, the sorrow.
There was a boy, once, who gave him a glimmer of hope - that things could be good on that miserable pile of dirt people called Earth. But that glimmer had brought pain and scars that would follow Michael for the rest of time, some less visible than others.
ā
Thinking back to that day, he curled up his fist, flexing his knuckles, and, for a short moment, missing the pain that for so long had come with any movement. He took a deep breath and took in his surroundings with a smile.
He was in his truck, having just arrived at the junkyard. He got out, slamming the door louder than necessary and walked to his airstream, longing in front of the door, before opening it.
āFinally getting your ass back at work?ā said a voice from behind the airstream, making Michael jump, before he rolled his eyes. Sanders appeared in Michaelās field of view, looking as grumpy as Michael knew him to be.
āYep,ā Michael replied, popping the āpā, āmissed me?ā he asked, turning to Sanders and closing the door to his trailer.
āEnjoying the quiet, more like,ā Sanders retorted, with no bite to his voice. āI thought youād moved out?ā He raised his chin in the airstreamās direction, referencing the fact that in the past six months, Michael hadnāt slept at the junkyard a single night.
Michael chuckled, rubbing the back of the back, feeling somewhat embarrassed at being caught. He went to sit at one of the chairs in front of the airstream, inviting Sanders along.
āYou know,ā he said after a while, the two of them sitting in silence until now, āthis thing was the closest to a home a ever had.ā
Sanders scoffed, āwhat about your boyās house?ā In his humble opinion, Alexās house made a much better home than a piece of scrap on wheels. Except, he also understood better than anyone the need to be independent, to have something just for yourself. And the fact that the airstream was on wheels was just an added bonus in case you needed to run away.
āItās not his house,ā Michael whispered with a smile, looking at his hands on his laps. His left hand was still curled in a fist, but not as a reminder of the pain. He held something in that hand, something that he knew, if he looked at it properly, would only become more real.
And he wasnāt sure how he felt about it.
Sanders stayed quiet, not one to talk much about emotions and feelings, and Michael appreciated it. His mind wandered back to the boy who offered him a warm place to stay at night.
ā
Michael was laying on his back on the wooden floor, looking at all the various posters on the wall. He didnāt know who most of these bands were, but he recognised some of the names, knew how much Alex loved them.
He often felt like an outsider when the other kids his age talked about cartoons or movies or music. In the system, he didnāt have access to VHS tapes, and none of his foster parents cared enough to buy him some. And as for now, well, he didnāt have the money to buy music or movies, so he just stayed quiet, hoping no one would invite him in the conversation and make fun of him.
But Alex was different. He shared his passion with such joy and love that all Michael could do was listen in awe and he explained the different bands, the different cartoons he grew up with, and his current obsession with a TV show called Buffy.
Michael tried, wanted, to remember everything Alex said, but sometimes it got messy in his brain and he would get confused. But Alex didnāt seem to care, happy to explain it all one more time.
The two of them would spend many nights in the shed, talking, playing music, or just stay there in silence, enjoying each otherās company, being safe for a few minutes, before real life bit back.
Michael quickly sat up as he heard the door open and sighed in relief as he saw it was only Alex on the other side. He smiled at the other boy, who went to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of him.
āI brought you this,ā he said sheepishly, taking out a few comic books from his backpack. āThese ones are the X-men -ā he handed Michael three different comic books. āThey have super powers and are pretty cool. This oneās Gambit, he can manipulate heat and create kinetic energy and -ā
Against his will, Michael zoned out, for the first time not hearing a word Alex was saying. He was holding between his hands the story of someone like him. And Alex thought he was cool.
He looked up at the other boy, who was in the middle of an explanation, gesticulating his hands, no doubt reenacting Gambitās abilities. Alex froze, thinking that Michaelās reaction was about him not enjoying the comic books he had brought.
Seeing the look start to appear on Alexās face, Michael quickly spoke up, āIt sounds so cool!ā he said, probably a bit too enthusiastic. āThis is, uh, the first time anyone shared something so personal with me.ā He lowered his voice, suddenly feeling like maybe Alex didnāt want to have to deal with Michaelās awkwardness and lack of culture anymore.
āOh,ā was all Alex said, but in that simple word, Michael heard understanding. In that simple syllable, Michael heard that Alex maybe wasnāt so different, not used to receiving gifts, not used to nice coming without a flip side.
āWell, itās not like Iām giving them to you,ā Alex said after a beat, smiling warmly at Michael. Michael smiled back, and accepted the comic book, trying to remember as much of what Alex said.
For a few days afterwards, Alex would bring comic books, whether they were his or his brothersā. They would read them quietly, sharing a few funny strips, a few funny lines, enjoying the way these outsiders came together as a family.
It gave them hope, that maybe, one day, they too could find their people, find their place in the world, where they didnāt have to hide and live in shame and in fear.
ā
Michael snapped his head towards Sanders, who simply raised his eyebrow at him. āOf course,ā he breathed out, holding his fist tighter, feeling the metal dig into his palm.
āAlex asked me to move in with him.ā
There, he said it. The words rang in his ears, remembering when Alex said them, handing him the key, saying that most of Michaelās belongings had mostly already moved in anyways.
āThatās a good thing right?ā asked Sanders, confused as to Michaelās current state.
āYeah, it is, most of my stuff is there already, and you said it yourself - I havenāt slept here in months.ā
āBut,ā Sanders supplied, knowing that things were never that simple.
Michael sighed. āBut,ā he repeated, ālast time I dared to dream of a future, reality bit me in the ass.ā His voice was bitter as he clutched his fist harder, wincing as the key dug into his hand, no doubt leaving blood behind.
āYour hand,ā was all that Sanders said. He always had his suspicions as to how Michael had gotten injured, never believing the kid as he talked about an accident fixing his truck, but never questioning it further - he trusted Michael to tell him whenever he was ready.
But now, he was starting to understand better. Understand how exactly Alex tied into Michaelās broken hand. And he knew he wasnāt going to like the full story.
āJesse Manes,ā Michael said with a flat voice, shifting in his seat, āhe caught us together, and he flipped. Grabbed a hammer. Tada,ā he waved his fist in the air, having unclenched it a little bit, feeling a slight sting from the key.
Sandersā blood was starting to boil, and if Jesse Manes wasnāt already dead, he would make sure the other man would pay. And a lot of things started to make sense - including Michaelās reaction to living with Alex.
āLook, kid, I aināt an expert in relationships, but that kid has been your one for over a decade now. You started to do stuff you wanted to, so move in with him. Live a boring picket fence life. Be happy, or whatever kids say these days.ā
Michael shook his head, but he was smiling. He opened his fist, wincing as he saw the red drops and the lacerations on his skin. Without a word, he stood up, heading towards his truck.
āHey,ā Sanders called after him, āyou got work to do, where dāyou think youāre going?ā
āHome.ā Michael simply said, waving at him as he got into the driverās seat. He drove out of the junkyard, looking at the familiar shape of his airstream in his rear-view mirror. He was turning that chapter of his life, starting a new one.
He may have been living with Alex for the past six months, there was something different about owning a key, about officially moving in. It was scary, but Michael had found his family, and they didnāt come down from the stars to get him.
No, he found them all on his own, and he wouldnāt change a thing.
He used his key to open the front door, smiling as he heard music come from the living room.
I havenāt written anything creatively since the summer! But slipping in to participate in at least one day this Malex week.Ā
Meet Ugly:Ā Youāre my new neighbor and I came over at 7am to introduce myself but it turns out you work late shifts, and I woke you up and now you hate me.
Michael had been meaning to introduce himself to his hotter than sin new neighbor that moved in across the hall from him a few weeks back.
Heād only gotten a few glimpses of him since his move-in day when it was pouring rain outside, and he and another insanely buff and attractive man carried in box after box while their wet t-shirts clung to their sculpted frames.
If Michael hadnāt been running insanely late for work that Saturday, he would have stopped to help, but instead, all he could do was muster a quick hello and a quick goodbye in passing. He got a grunt back in return, but he didnāt take it to heart, as hot neighbor and hot neighbors friend were in the midst of carrying a king-sized mattress up a relatively small hallway.
Since then, heād never found an opportunity to approach his hot neighbor.
Once he saw him getting out of the elevator. His mouth was open, the words āhelloā ready to spill right off of his tongue, but the other manās phone rang, and Michael ducked his head into his grocery bag instead, catching a big whiff of ginger that made him sneeze before retreating to his apartment.
It was Tuesday around 5:30 am when he decided to make his move.
Michaelās apartment building was newer, but the walls werenāt the thickest in the world, especially the wall against the hallway. You could hear the voices of people carrying past as they made their way to the elevator or headed back to their homes. Michael was fiddling with a painting near his front door that refused to stay straight when he heard a voice that sounded like it was right outside.
Curiosity and just a regular old case of nosiness sent him to his peephole, where he spotted hot neighbor looking like perhaps heād come fresh off a morning walk or something. From what little he could see through the circular lens, his hair was tousled, maybe a little wet, it was hard to tell, and he fit himself into a tight white shirt and black joggers that hugged his lower body like a warm hug.
Michael reached for the handle, fully intending to introduce himself finally, but stopped when he realized something. For one, he was only wearing black boxer briefs. And while he was proud of his body, that was just weird to burst out the front door with barely any clothes on.
As much as he wanted to meet the gorgeous man across the hall properly, he decided to finish his morning routine and then bite the bullet and knock on his door since he was clearly up for the day.
Michael busied himself with a little in-home workout Isobel had sent him, drank some coffee, and scarfed down a muffin before dressing in his cleanest outfit for another day at the garage. He typically didnāt wear anything without a hole in it or a stain firmly attached, but he opted for a pair of black jeans, a white v-neck, and a checkered flannel that was sitting on the couch.
After locking up his place and taking about ten deep breaths, he walked the three feet over to his neighborās door with a plate of chocolate chip muffins heād thankfully made the night before. Isobel had once told you never go over to someoneās house without bringing something, and this was the first time heād ever actually taken that advice.
One, two, three knocks, and then he waited for a long minute.
Michael couldnāt hear any movement on the other side of the door, but he figured the man could have been in the shower or something, so he knocked again rapidly, one, two, three, and then he heard the shuffling of feet.
Steeling himself, he took one more deep breath and then smiled widely when the door flew open.
āCan I help you? Do you have any idea what time it is?ā
i found a meet ugly prompt and thought it was perfect for malex
āIām on a date, youāre our server and the person Iām with keeps treating you obnoxiously and doesnāt tip at the end, now you think Iām an asshole too because I was on a date with themā
i basically took this prompt and tweaked it a little and added angst šĀ
ā
Alex watches, half paying attention as Ben drones on and on about his work as he tries to stay interested. He keeps glancing at their waiter, a curly haired man with a cowboy hat who seemed to be very good with his hands by the amount of plates he could carry.Ā
He also looks like he could be very good with his hands in other ways, but Alex needs to not think like that on a date with his boyfriend.
His boring, rude boyfriend, but boyfriend nonetheless.
āAlex?ā A familiar voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he puts a smile on his face, watching as Ben looks at him with an eyebrow raised.
āWere you even listening?ā Ben asks, annoyance evident in his tone. Alex bites his lip, almost afraid to answer. Ben has always been like this. Expecting Alex to listen to every story about him, while ignoring Alexās feelings.Ā
Alex is about to respond to him when Ben suddenly groans, looking disgusted at his food.Ā
āWaiter.ā Ben lifts up his hand, trying to get the attention of their very attractive waiter who was busy helping another table, trying to hold 4 plates in his arms.
Alex takes a sip of his water as Ben yells out, āWaiter!ā Alex almost chokes on his drink at Benās actions, before lowering his glass and grabbing Benās arm to lower it.Ā
āStop it Ben.ā Alex urges, shooting glances around the restaurant. His face goes beet red as other people stare at their table. The waiter does come eventually, much to Alexās embarrassment and gives them both a look.
āIām sorry sir. Iām going to have to ask you to lower your voice.ā The man says, and Alex takes a quick look at his name tag.Ā
This fic is just a part of a larger space au which i hope to be able to complete and bring to its full glory. however far away that day may be, i hope you enjoy this first look :)
ā
In this strange, vast, and wonderful galaxy, one could find princes in the strangest of places. Alex found his in a scrap heap, digging for fuel cells.
He approached with his hands in his pockets, the low, swollen sun of Kolesar-LV at his back so Guerin had to squint to look at him, and when Guerin hailed him with a raised hand he hailed back and donned a smile.
Hand shading his eyes, Guerin said, āHey there, stranger. Didnāt expect to see another soul out as far as here.ā
theartofmadeline
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
sugurugetos
origamiaround
