littleorphanalien | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's been a rough week.

Michael's not back to the same state he was in a year ago after he'd been kidnapped, but he's still spending a lot more time in bed than awake. Magnus is gone and that's fine, it's whatever. He's been abandoned so many times before and it's not like they were best friends. It's just that Magnus helped him recover memories of his mother. He helped him create a plan for his hand, for kids in the future. He even found the doctor for him.

He hasn't really had someone like that in his life that he trusts outside of Alex and Caleb, and now he's just, he's gone. Asshole.

So he's been sulking, and yeah, he gets up to make sure breakfast is made and Luke gets to school, but then he goes back to bed instead of fiddling with the drones. He knows Alex is going to call him on it, probably soon, but it's like there's a thundercloud over his head that he can't escape, and it's just weighing him down and exhausting him.

He misses Magnus, and he's not sure what to do about it, other than curl up in bed with a book, trying to read the feelings away.

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"I'd make out with you anywhere," Michael vows, because that's one of the easiest truths in the world. He cups the back of Alex's neck as he coaxes Alex in a little closer, not aggressive with his kisses so much as something steady and slow and sweet.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares fondly at Alex. "Do you wanna go to the truck?" he asks, because it's not that far. "Or the Airstream?"

Wriggling a bit closer, pressing his body to Michael's and loving how good that feels. Sliding a hand over Michael's chest, coming up to cup the side of his neck. Leaning into those kisses with a soft sigh, moaning tenderly as he exhales.

"We could. Means I could touch you more than I can out here. I mean, if you're in the mood," he murmurs softly.

Michael lets his eyes shift over to the truck. It definitely does afford more privacy, but then Bopp gets shut up in the house again, and given how much time in the house Michael's had lately, he thinks that's not fair. "Nah," he says, cupping Alex's cheek. "Let's just be idiot teenagers making out."

He's also not sure if the mood is striking him yet, but he's always down for a steamy, slow makeout.

There's something about Michael choosing to stay there, out in public, that seems right in that moment. It is him trying to reconnect with the world on his own terms. Just the two of them and Bopp, making out and just enjoying being together.

He loves it here. The ocean air, the gulls, just living here by the beach.

Kissing Michael, stroking his fingers along his cheek. "I love it here," he whispers. "I know it's rough when things like this happen, but the chances we've had here? It means everything to me."

Michael shivers, both from the breeze off the water and the way Alex is touching him. Even with all the shit he's feeling, he also has to admit that it's only because he got the highs of friendship. "I never would've opened up to someone like Magnus back home," he admits.

This place is giving him that, like nowhere else has. "I don't know if you noticed, but my friends in Roswell basically started and stopped with Max, Isobel, and Noah," he scoffs. "And Noah turned out to be..." He makes a sour face, an old wound he hasn't revisited lately and needs to seal up instantly.

Alex nods, because he knows Michael hadn't been close to many others, and that he had gained so much here. It's why it's so hard losing Magnus, he knows.

"Here's different, and I'm glad for that. I just wish Max and Isobel were here." Maria too. Liz. But he wishes more for Michael than himself as he keeps kissing and nuzzling at his jaw and throat. "I'm going to tell you not to give up. Not on friends. Not on the things you were trying."

He still has some friends. He feels like it's hard for him to connect with actual people both because he's a little prickly and also because a lot of the time, he just hates regular people. Magnus had been different.

He's still got others, but they don't feel as good. Instead of talking about that, he leans in and pins Alex to the blanket for another round of kisses, straddling him while keeping as decent as he can. "I don't wanna," he admits, mumbling the words, "it just feels so hard."

Smiling as Michael pins him down, looking up at him with such adoration before he's closing his eyes, kissing Michael. Sliding his hands along his arms and over broad shoulders. Knowing they're pushing their luck and not caring. Not so long as they can be together.

"So don't yet," he says between kisses. "Just don't give up."

Because that's what he needs to know. That Michael isn't giving up.

Michael presses his forehead to Alex's, a moment lapse before he leans in to steal a deeper kiss, groaning when he has to ease back and remember that they're in public. He can absolutely control himself, mostly because he's a grown man, and also they have a kid.

The last thing he needs is to talk to Luke about why he and Alex were 'wrestling'.

"For you, I won't," he promises. "I wanna have more kids with you." And that means staying sober.

It's hard though to remember that they're in public, that they should be careful of one another. It's wicked and delicious and he knows they need to be cautious but that doesn't mean he wants to control himself.

"Good. Because I'm looking forward to that," he says softly, staring up at Michael with a small smile. "Especially you working on knocking me up."

Michael is keeping his hands out of Alex's pants. For that alone, he thinks he should get a medal, because he's behaving. He kisses Alex again, slow and deep, right up until he barks out a laugh. "Knocking you up, huh," he drawls. "Something you haven't told me, Alex?" he asks, moving his palm to spread out on Alex's stomach.

"You got an alien bun in your oven?"

He laughs, loving the tease, the playfulness between them. He bats lashes at Michael, wide eyed and innocent. "Maaaaybe. You never know," he teases, leaning up to kiss Michael with a grin.

It's hard not to laugh more. "You laughed though. I feel I've succeeded today."

He did laugh, didn't he? And he hadn't even stopped to think about it, hadn't thought that it was too awful that he couldn't. He gives Alex a wry smile, as much as he still feels the ache in his chest, because he definitely got caught by surprise.

"Considering we really sucked at communication for a while, you're good at this now," he praises. "We figured that shit out, huh."

It's true though. Alex had been horrible at communication. He had screwed up so much, and he knew that while they both had a hand in things, so much of it was him. He left and then he came back and treated Michael like shit.

"You know sometimes I think it's because of being away from it all. I came here and there was nothing holding me back, noting from the past. I guess it opened me up a bit."

Whatever it is, he's thankful for it. Thankful for this chance with Michael and all that it offers.

"Just me," Michael admits, because he'd been the only thing from Roswell in this new place, and they'd taken it slowly. He still thinks if they hadn't suddenly become seventeen, he would have drawn it out as long as humanly possible, just to not fuck it up.

He presses his forehead to Alex's, brushing it back and forth, breathing out slowly. "I want this to be what we have, anywhere. Us, a family, a home," he says, voice raw and rough. "The things I dreamed of before Jesse smashed my hand."

"Just you. I miss things, and people, but I never want to lose what we've gained here. Not ever." And he knows that may mean staying here forever. Which if he didn't want it for them, he wants for Luke. He needs to be protected from all that happens in his world.

"We have it, Michael. And if we go home, we'll have it there too. I promise," he whispers to him. "Just like we'll get your hand healed one way or another."

Michael lifts his hand, broken and mangled and still in pain most of the time. More of the time, if he's honest, since he stopped self-medicating to make it stop. He flexes it, the pinky shaking with the effort, and he stares at it, dismayed.

"I had the surgeon from Magnus, but I wanted the backup of having his powers, in case things got dicey," he says, voice rough. "I know Magnus trusted the doc, but it's hard to do the same."

Alex reaches out, lightly running his fingers over Michael's hand as he leans in, kissing the scars tenderly.

"What was Magnus going to be able to do for you? Is there anyone else that could help?"

"You know anyone magic enough to help with the surgery and keeping the pain at bay and me conscious?" It's one of the only ways he feels like he can do it, after the abduction. "I don't trust doctors right now, not alone," he says roughly. "Not after everything, and I'm gonna have to be knocked out."

He speaks with an edge of frustration and it drives him onwards, bearing in to kiss Alex hard, instead of thinking about what he can't do.

Alex cups the back of Michael's neck, drawing him in for a hard, desperate kiss. Just trying to offer what he can to comfort his husband.

"Then we will find a way," he whispers fiercely between kisses. "I'm not sure how, but we'll find a way."

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