dated 7.29

[littleorphanalien]

One moment, he's at the shop holding a few cabin filters in his hand.

Then, they're on the ground. Michael blinks and stares down at them with confusion, bending to grab them and noticing that his shirt is suddenly fitting really strangely on him. It's too big and his hoodie isn't there, which is a problem when night rolls around and he's going to freeze because he hasn't got it. He collects the filters and sets them back on the shelf, seeing as he can't afford those (wishful thinking won't change that), and then heads outside.

That's when he sees two things.

One, this doesn't look like the hardware store in Roswell.

And two, his truck is missing.

It's the second one that's got him panicked. After all, that's not just his truck, that's his home, and even if he's been staying at the tool shed every now and again, that's not the kind of thing that he wants to start doing as a crutch. Grabbing at his hair, he tugs on it and starts pacing as he digs out his phone. Instantly, he calls Max, but gets a 'this user is not in service' message. Calling Isobel gets the same thing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did he hit his head? Did he go back to the fundamentalists and they gave him a concussion? He pages through his phone and sees a few things he doesn't understand.

One being a date in the calendar for tomorrow - Dinner with AM.

AM? Who's AM?

Then, he pulls up the chat history and sees a long one with the same AM, a history that looks more intimate than Michael's ever had with anyone. The only person he's ever even thought about like that has been Alex, but he's still kind of not sure what to do about that. As he goes through his phone, he finds an entry for Alex. His last shot, he dials, but this one doesn't disconnect.

This time, it rings.

Comments

[unendurable]

Alex had taken off from the shop a bit early. He had blown it off as needing to run an errand, but the truth of the matter is that he had a song he wants to finish before his date tomorrow, and he keeps catching himself staring at Michael rather than working on it.

So grabbing his things and heading home seemed the best idea.

When the phone rings though, he is a bit off balance. Sitting cross legged on his bed, staring down at lyrics that, for a minute, he doesn't recognize. It's not like he doesn't have a few dozen journals full of tried and failed lyrics, but this song about giving his heart forever, about a love greater than the stars, is nothing he recognizes. And while it's in his handwriting, he doesn't remember the chords beneath it.

Shifting the guitar in his arms, he reaches for his phone.

But it's not his phone. Nor does he recognize the comforter that's under it. Slowly lifting the phone, sliding his thumb over the screen as he looks around. None of the posters he'd hung despite his old man's objections. None of his clothes hanging on the chair. Hell, the chair isn't even their.

Peering at the phone, at the name Michael and unable to place a Michael who would be calling him. Sure Guerin's name was Michael, but when had he ever called him that.

His voice squeaks a little as he answers, nothing feeling right and wondering if he'd done something and Jesse had hit him harder than usual and now he's blacking out or something.

"Hello?"

[littleorphanalien]

It's Alex Manes. Alex Manes picks up. Shit.

Michael hangs up instantly, even though he regrets it. He gapes at his phone and shoves it in his pocket. Even though he'd been hoping that it might be Alex, the fact that his number is tied to that really intimate exchange (including the 'l' word, he's pretty sure), that's something he doesn't know how to process.

It's exactly the kind of bullshit prank Isobel would pull, but her number isn't working. Near tears of frustration, Michael grits his teeth and tries to keep his powers from going haywire. Someone stole his truck, he can't get a hold of his siblings, and Alex Manes picked up the phone.

He feels the swooping of butterflies in his stomach as he thinks of the other man, trying to figure out what he should do. He figures he should start walking, even though he's not recognizing anything and the more he sees, the more panicked he gets.

The school. He'll go by the school. He asks the next person for directions there and starts walking, figuring that no matter what, that will show him where he should be going.

[unendurable]

Alex blinks as the phone line seems to go dead.

"Hello? UHmmm, Michael?"

Frowning, he starts looking through the phone, trying to see what was going on. Finding these conversations between him and Michael. Michael who had to be Guerin. Guerin with his poignant soul and eyes that seemed to have the whole of the cosmos in them. Michael saying things that make no sense given that while they've talked, and he offered him the shed, there's definitely not been any long term conversations.

Nothing like these texts.

He dials back, waiting for Michael to answer. Biting at his lip, confused what is going on here and where he even is.

Hoping to his feet, exploring the apartment while waiting for an answer. And really not liking what he's finding. What kind of nerd lives in this place anyway? Obviously someone for whom khaki is a fun color from what he's seeing.

At least in most of the clothes, but there's one side of the closet that looks better. A few skinny jeans and dark tees. Huh. Apparently two different people live there, he has to guess.

[littleorphanalien]

His phone is vibrating in his pocket. Michael digs it out and sees a picture of Alex on the screen, though it's such a close up that all he can see is that the nose ring is gone in the picture. He fumbles it a little, heart pounding, because what are you supposed to do when your crush calls you?

It's got to be a crush. He knows it, he just can't acknowledge it because it's the most he's ever cared about anyone and Michael Guerin doesn't care. He thinks he might even be in love with Alex Manes, but that one, he's keeping to himself.

He stops outside a bus stop and presses 'talk'. "Hello?" he says warily, leaning his shoulder against the shelter. "Isobel, I swear to god, if this is revenge for that bet we had about your hair, I'm gonna get the money and pay you back, okay? Just, tell me where my truck is. Please?"

[unendurable]

Alex pauses midstep as the phone is answered. Standing there, hearing Guerin's voice and then his declaration against Isobel... which has to be Queen Bee Isobel Evans, and what even if this. He didn't even know they knew one another, nonetheless friends to be talking about borrowing money and...

For a moment he's not even sure what words are, or even what to say.

Eventually he clears his throat softly, shifting his phone from one hand to the other. "It's not... It's not Isobel. Is this you, Guerin? Uhmmmm, I don't know about Isobel Evans but, uhmm..." He sighs. "Do you know where you are?"

He winces, because that sounds like the dumbest fucking thing ever. "I'm in an apartment, and I have no idea whose it is."

[littleorphanalien]

He goes frozen in place again. He really couldn't imagine having Alex Manes programmed in his phone with a chat history. He genuinely thought that it had to be some kind of trick played on him by Iz. That's more realistic than the sweet, smart, handsome boy actually being there.

"Uhhhh..."

He's literally frozen in spot, not knowing what to say. His cheeks are flushed as he ducks away, because he keeps thinking about Alex when he's in his truck. It's the only thing during the cold nights that warms him up, but having him call out of the blue is so weird, but it sounds like Alex is freaked out too.

"Yeah, it's me." He tries to dredge up some emotion other than shock. "I was in a parts store, but now I'm heading to the high school, but..." He stares up at the building, which is definitely not Roswell High.

"I think maybe I got lost, too."

[unendurable]

The silences seem to go on forever, and he starts to wonder if he's being punked. He could imagine Valenti pulling crap like this, but never would he imagine that Guerin might be in on it. Which means, whatever this is, is either real, or they're both being tricked and by the same people. How the hell did they get them to other places, like someone's house.

And he starts rummaging and things get even more confusing. There's a wallet with an license with his name, and kind of his picture. A military ID too which is fucking terrifying as hell. In one of the drawers there is pay stubs for a mechanic shop but they have Alex's name on them, and a bank book with carefully recorded amounts.

If this is a joke, it's more elaborate than anything he can imagine.

"Guerin, stay put, okay? Can you turn on the GPS on your phone? Is it already on?"

If they have phones, they're connected to something, which means he can track Michael and find out where he is.

Hating what he has on, why are the legs to his sweats so damn loose? JNCOs that baggy, sure, but sweats? And why only the one leg? Why would he have cut the elastic? What the hell is all of this about?

He grabs a pair of decent jeans out of the closet and a black tee. Whoever's stuff this is will have to deal with him scavenging from it because he's not going out looking like he did. Grabbing the wallet, he shoves it in his back pocket because it has money and that's going to maybe be useful.

"You got it set?"

[littleorphanalien]

Michael isn't exactly sure he wants Alex to find him. On the other hand, it's the only thing he wants in the world. There's been this confusing chaos in his head that never goes away. Honestly, he has no idea what to do, but he takes his phone away and presses 'ON' before he can think twice.

He's not cold, which is good, but he's still only wearing a ratty t-shirt and his greasy jeans and boots, and he hasn't seen his truck anywhere, which is a bad sign.

He has no idea where he's going to sleep tonight. Fuck, maybe it's back to the street? At least it seems warm.

"Yeah, it's set, it uh," he says, and ducks to check his hair, making sure it looks okay, heart pounding because he didn't count on seeing Alex today. He would have dug out his hoodie, but he also has no idea where the fuck his home is, so maybe not.

[unendurable]

Alex is so often a bit growly around Michael, and it's not his fault. It's the emotions and the feelings, and the fact the can't look at Michael without guaranteeing he'll end up needing time alone because just looking at Michael turns him on so much.

Looking at the phone as he draws up an app to trace Michael's phone number. Finding it pinpointed, setting his directions and heading out.

Frowning as he gets into the hallway, and then into the street.

"OKay, none of this looks familiar. Have you seen any markers that might say what town we're in? Could Valenti have done something stupid like this?"

Because when in doubt, blame Kyle.

[littleorphanalien]

Michael has found a bench, slumping on it and tugging on the loose collar of his shirt, wriggling a finger through the hole in it before he reminds himself that it'll only call attention to himself and that's rule number one from Max -- don't.

He still feels weird about the fact that Alex is coming to find him, but if they've been kidnapped, then maybe strength is in numbers. "I don't get why a place like this. I mean, I know it's been ages, but this isn't Santa Fe or Albuquerque," he guarantees, because his memories might be fuzzy, but they're not that bad.

"Please," he scoffs. "As if Valenti has the smarts to do something like this."

[unendurable]

Alex is moving quick, trying to take in everything around him. Reading street signs, business signs, looking for anything that would give him a clue where he is. License plates narrow nothing down. The letters on windows that decree the business don't have detailed information where it is, and none of this is making sense.

"No, nothing seems familiar like them. And this map? It's showing what looks like a large lake. It may be the ocean, Michael. Maybe Texas? San Antonio? I've never been there, but I thought it would be more adobe and all," he admits, a bit breathless as he hurries along.

"True. He has only two thoughts. Sports and being a worthless prick."

Okay so maybe technically more than one thing but still.

"Hey."

He says it softly, even as he hangs up the phone, coming up behind Michael, recognizing those curls anywhere.

Staring at the back of his head, knowing when he turns, when he sees those eyes, he's going to forget everything he's supposed to be trying to figure out.

[littleorphanalien]

Michael has been fidgeting, his hand sliding over his jeans, but he nearly drops the phone when Alex uses his name. His cheeks definitely flush and he gets a hard-on against the seam of his jeans, but he manages to stifle any sounds he might make.

Alex might have him on a hair trigger, but the fact is that he's only just been figuring that out.

When he hears his voice nearby, he swivels, instantly putting on the bravado and trying not to look as scared and nervous as he feels. "Still think this is Valenti's idea of a prank? I was kind of thinking maybe Isobel was getting some kind of revenge after I bet her to put that black polish in her hair," he quips.

[unendurable]

It's how it is in his phone, and those messages, and he wants to know if that's normal since he's never actually used it in his life. Not with Guerin. It almost feels intimate in ways he's dreamt of being with Michael but never thought he'd actually have the chance to be.

So when Michael turns, it's almost painful. Staring at him, thinking about that day with the guitar, when all he'd been thinking about is kissing him. And now it's in his head again to do just that. To grab Michael and pull him close and have that first kiss he's literally daydreamed about every day since he first saw him.

Instead he shrugs, looking to the side and then back at him, hoping to hide the desperation in his eyes and revealing just how much he's crushing on him.

"Doesn't explain dragging me into it though, does it? I mean, not like I got her to do something that stupid." Shifting, not used to jeans this tight and acutely missing his skater pants in that moment. He felt stupidly overdressed and on display and it might work for people like Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross but it's not him.

[littleorphanalien]

Fuck, why does being around Alex always make him so nervous?

He knows he has a crush on him, he's figured that part out, but what he doesn't know how to come to terms with is what he plans to do about it. He's never kissed anyone or slept with anyone that he actually likes, but as he stares at Alex longingly, he thinks maybe it would be a good place to start with him.

The pants are not helping. When Alex shifts, the jeans do too. His eyes slide lower, and he thinks he's going to get caught staring. His eyes are on the tight inseams and fabric before he drags his eyes away, his mouth open because he's pretty sure Alex said something.

"Uhhh..." he says. He's facing Alex now, on the bench, but he's acutely aware of where the height differences put him. "So maybe it's not? Did you, have you..." He's struggling, but he needs to get over that. "Have you seen my car?" he asks, which is more important. "I can't find the truck, and I really need to."

[unendurable]

Ransacking the apartment and going through a wallet had been odd but doable. He's been all bravado and take charge on the phone, but now that he's facing Michael, it is suddenly very real and very odd.

Everything Alex is about to say though is lost because he can handle a lot, but he's pretty sure Michael Guerin was just staring at his dick, and shit there is no hiding anything in those fucking jeans, and this can't be real because... no it just can't.

Wondering if he's had a blow to the head, some kind of accident. Maybe he's imagining this. Hell, given what he's thinking just happened he's not sure he's not dead.

Wincing when Michael asks him about his truck, because all that Alex is thinking about is moving until he's straddling Michael's lap, and kissing Michael with his hands buried in those curls and Alex turns suddenly, looking down the street as if Michael could have just missed things and not to hide how stupidly hard he is. Why did he change? So he didn't look stupid in front of Michael.

Way to go, Manes. Now you just look like a fucking perv.

"Okay. Uhmmm, we don't know your truck is here," he points out. "I mean, we're not in Roswell anymore, Toto," he mutters, glancing at Michael but not turning to face him. And looking at him isn't helping because he looks so upset and lost and Alex wishes he could do anything to make it better. "Something weird is going on, Michael. Like Twilight Zone weird, I think."

He pulls out his wallet, handing it to Michael. "I've always had a military ID," he says. "Because of my old man, but that? That's an active duty card, not a dependent card."

[littleorphanalien]

Michael is definitely still staring because those jeans are a gift that leave nothing to the imagination and, god, but it's such a good sight. He lets out a soft breath of air, a little held inhalation that he shakily gets out.

"If it's not here, I..." His voice goes tight, strangled with the lump in his throat, breathing in and trying to dispel it. It doesn't go away, though, because he's freaking out about being homeless and cold tonight. "It's just bad," he sums up, which is an understatement. His cheeks go flushed and pink, though, because Alex hands him a picture that's him.

He's handsome, but he's older.

He also has a scar. "What?" he asks, staring at it, squinting and freaking out. "What is this? How come you look older?"

[unendurable]

Alex catches that sound, the way his voice changes, and he doesn't need direct words. Moving to drop down on the bench next to Michael, turning to face him. "Hey, no. It is bad. All of it, but you're not alone here, right? Whatever's happened? Wherever your truck is? I didn't leave you out in the cold before, did I? I'm not here. Whoever's apartment that is? We can both stay there."

His voice waivers a bit, realizing how he sounds. How all of it sounds, and yet he knows through all of this, he's not leaving Michael out on the street.

"I don't know. I mean, there's a lot of programs I could use to make an ID like that. Maybe it's a fake one I made and don't remember? I could age myself through a few programs, and make that but why? And why don't I remember doing it?"

[littleorphanalien]

Alex is warm now, his body right up against Michael's. He always runs hot because of the alien thing, but now with Alex right here, he feels like he might singe through his t-shirt. He's breathing a little faster, and his breath catches when Alex suggests him staying at his place.

Would it be so different from his offer to stay at the shed? He honestly doesn't think so, but maybe that's the yearning, selfish voice in his head that wants it so badly.

"I mean, I guess if you're offering, I'd be pretty stupid not to agree," he says, feeling weirdly brave all of a sudden. Brave, and yet, stupid all at the same time. "I don't even have a wallet or keys on me," he admits, patting his back pocket and coming up empty other than a couple of bills (enough for the filters).

He doesn't give the picture back. He's staring at it, even though he glances up and does a double-take.

"Where's your piercing? Your nail polish?"

[unendurable]

Acutely aware of how warm Michael is, Alex resists the urge to lean in closer to Michael, wanting to press up against him. Wanting to kiss him, to just once feel if those lips are as plush as they look, if he tastes of hot as he feels.

His gaze drops, staring at Michael's mouth as he talks. "Just until we figure out where your truck is if you want," he says, glancing up at Michael's eyes and then down at his mouth once more. "Mine... these were on a table by the door. I was sitting on the bed working on my music," he says, because that is still utterly and totally normal from his life before.

But then Michael asks that question and Alex's hand jerks to his nose, pressing to his septum. "What? Where is it?" It doesn't even hurt to touch it, and he can't feel the holes that he's felt before changing out the jewelry. "Why would someone take that? Why?" Looking at his hand, his bare nails, before touching his earlobes. He hadn't done much gauging, but some, and the holes feel completely filled in now. At least shrunk to nearly normal side. "What the... How could someone... What?"

Confused now, losing that edge of control he'd had previously. The ID could be doctored, but this took time.

[littleorphanalien]

Michael keeps breathing steadily, like he's trying to stop himself from doing really stupid things. He'd panicked when Alex's name had come up, but then he'd started thinking about prom and Max and how if this were Max and Liz, he would've done something about it.

God, Michael wants to do something about it.

It's why he's so stupid as to slide the pad of his thumb over Alex's nose, just slightly, over the tip of it before he yanks his hand away like he's been burned, not entirely sure what compelled him to do that (desperation, need, want, like, love) but he keeps staring at him.

"I don't know what's going on, but I lost my truck and you're missing stuff and I was just on my way to the shed, I was...I had planned to stay the night," he admits. "Work on some homework. I mean, I know it's only June, but it's cold at night."

[unendurable]

It's not like they haven't technically touched one another before, but then with that touch to the tip of his nose and his nose wrinkled like a bunny's. Reaching up, rubbing at his nose as he stares at Michael, jaw hanging open for a long moment. He can't look away from him, stunned at the touch, but more so from his desperate desire for more.

Nodding though he doesn't close his lips completely, staring at Michael in utter confusion because he knows what he wants, but he's scared that he's going to make a fool of himself and make Michael bolt. They're in a strange place and the last thing he wants is Michael running off and ending up God knows where.

"It's likely to be cold here at night too. Chillier. Especially if that is..." He pulls out his phone to focus on that and not Michael's mouth. "That body of water, and this place... I don't recognize it," he admits. He's studied Geography though not that closely to coastal cities. "But I don't recognize any of this, and I can't pull up a distant map behind this one."

[littleorphanalien]

Michael's mouth is open. Not much, but just enough that his tongue is peeking out as it rests against his lower lip, his gaze somewhat hooded as he stares at Alex's lips, sitting on his hand in case it decides to do other stupid things, like grope Alex's ass in public or dig into his hair and grab.

(It's missing the gel, too, but he doesn't say that because he just wants to touch it)

"Some kind of coast, yeah," he agrees. "Way more humid than Roswell ever was," he adds, and keeps nodding as he rubs his hand over his jeans again and again. Fuck, he's gonna stay at Alex's. "Where's your place? Should we go there? Is...is your Dad there? Or your brothers?"

[unendurable]

They are in a strange city, no idea how they got there, or how to get home. Enough money in this wallet that is apparently Alex's to get by. Unless whoever owns the apartment comes home. Then they'll be looking for a new place again. Until then though, it's as good a place as any to talk this out.

"I saw a laptop there. We can do some research, look into police, to information about where we are. Get something to eat," he says, rubbing his stomach and rolling his eyes. "No clue the last time I ate." Or Michael for that matter, but he's not going to point that out.

His nose wrinkles though. "And if they were, would I go back there?" Or take Michael. "All I saw was a laptop, some clothes in the closet, a bunch of dvds and on the table by the door where I found the wallet was a plant. I think it was bamboo. That's like all I saw."

He decides that's it, that's the plan. Standing up, he gives a jerk of his head. "Come on. Better than being out here in the open and not having a clue, right?"

[littleorphanalien]

He's still staring. At some point, Michael is going to need to stop, but until Alex tells him to fuck off or not to, then he's planning on letting his gaze stay fixed on the man in front of him. He tries not to sound too desperate and hopeful as he takes in a longing breath, getting to his feet.

"All right," he agrees, giving Alex a devil-may-care, careless grin. "Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"

He's going to an apartment with Alex Manes. He hasn't even asked if there's only the one bed, because he's assuming there'll be a couch and that's infinitely more comfortable than a sleeping bag in the back of his truck would ever be. Fuck, he also likes the take-charge thing and he feels a rush go through him.

Maybe, when they're there, maybe Michael can stop being a coward and can act on the thing he knows lives inside him. The thing that wanted to grab Alex and kiss him when he'd wiped his bleeding lip at prom or in class when he focuses on his paper, or how he looks in his visor. "Do you wanna, I don't know, stop and get some stuff for you?" he says, digging out the crumpled bills. "Eyeliner, nail polish..."

Acetone.

God, he could use some acetone.

[unendurable]

With that grin, Alex forgets everything. Where he is. What he's supposed to be doing. That everything in their life is wrong and weird and screwed up. He can only think about how good having that smile bestowed on him feels, and how it changes his whole expression.

He sways, aching to move closer, to take his hand, to kiss Michael and forget how weird this is because even weird is better than going home to his dad. Leaning into him, gaze focused but then reality breaks though, reminding him what a fool he's making of himself as he pulls back with a sharp intake.

His smile is soft, apologetic as he looks down and then back to Michael.

"You know according to horror movie logic, you shouldn't say that. The universe will prove just what the worst that can happen is."

Like Alex kissing Michael in the middle of the street and making a fool of himself and Michael storming off. Yeah, that would be worse.

That question though and he goes a bit pale, curling his hands in as if needing to hide the lack of polish on his nails, as if it's indecent. He looks about a bit furtive, paling as he leans in a bit closer to Michael.

"Be honest with me, Guerin. How bad do I look?"

Given the baggy close and makeup to stand out, he knows so much of it is armor, and he suddenly feels insanely naked and worried he looks like a twelve year old.