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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Smiling as Bopp takes off to run, knowing she won't go too far even if she wants to. She never strays to the water without others and she is more a sniff and run away with strangers than harassing them.

So when Michael makes that suggestion, he can't help but love that. Grinning as he lets Michael pull him closer and down onto the blanket.

"You know, I think that is the best idea."

Michael figures Bopp will trot back to them and interrupt them when they're making out, because she has that kind of timing. It's what Michael needs right now, though, namely that achingly close intimacy with Alex that he can't get (and doesn't want) from anyone else.

He tangles their legs together, sliding his palm into the back of Alex's pants to grab at his ass, pulling him in. "It's no back of the truck," he exhales, "but it's not bad, right?"

Laying there next to Michael, it feels like it's a dozen years in the past at the same time. Two kids in love and scared and trying to just hold on to feeling amazing. Yet now they have it forever. They're in love and happy and all that fear is gone.

Grinning at Michael as he wriggles in a bit closer to him at that grip. "Not bad at all. Maybe a bit more sand where we might not want it, but not bad," he says, leaning in and kissing Michael. Slow. Intense. Perfect.

Michael's not going at this the way he did at seventeen. It's not that he's not eager, it's just that the grief has kind of stunted him a little and he's feeling a little worn out, like someone took a spoon and went at his heart.

Still, he grabs at Alex's hair to hold him, bring him closer, and kiss him desperately, letting out a needy little sound as he deepens the kiss, trying to ignore the rest of the world. It's always been good when it's just him and Alex and right now, that's all he wants to focus on.

Alex knows he can't fix it and he hates that. He hates there's little he can do for Michael right now, no matter how much he wants to make it better for him. Yet he knows that, in the end, the one thing he can do for him. He can be there, and offer what comfort he can.

So he kisses him, slow and deep as he tangles his fingers into Michael's curls and holds him close. This he can offer, and he can be there for him and do all he can.

Michael shifts a little, hooking his knee around Alex's leg to pull him in a little closer, rocking his hips up against him. He's breathless as he eases back from the deep kiss, only to breathe, and when he slides back in, he gives a tiny thoughtful noise.

"We could've done this in the truck," he admits, and then he's in for another kiss.

The world explodes in lust and love in that moment like a myriad of tiny glittery fireworks falling all about them. It's how kissing Michael has always been. Yet there's something about laying here together like this that brings back memories and he can focus on the good of them because of how far they've come along.

"Would you have just gone out to the truck to make out if I asked?" He's not sure with Michael if it would have worked or not in that moment.

"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?"

(no subject)

littleorphanalien - 2021-05-10 23:53 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

unendurable - 2021-05-11 18:42 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only