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#malex ficlet
aydann-runs · 4 months
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“Can I ask you something hard?” Alex asks, lips brushing against the bare skin of Michael's shoulder in the dark.
Michael is still awake. Alex can feel it in the way Michael's body hasn't quite relaxed in his hold. It's a good time for hard conversations, they've learned, when they're close and connected, a little more unguarded than in the light of day.
“Yeah, ‘s long as I can change my mind if it's not somethin’ I wanna talk about.”
“Always,” Alex confirms.
That's the only ground rule they set for this, borrowed from sex, but useful here, too, that they both have to be okay with having the conversation. That there's no judgment if one of them changes their mind. It's happened a few times, where he or Michael has had to step away from a discussion.
Alex half expects his next question to be shut down from the start, but he asks it anyway. “Do you ever regret staying in Roswell after high school?”
He feels Michael tense, and Alex skims his palm across Michael’s belly, up his chest, and back down. Alex waits patiently, long enough he thinks Michael’s not going to answer. He’s just about to withdraw the question when Michael takes a deep breath and lets it out in a shaky exhale.
“There isn't a really great way to answer that,” Michael says, voice tinged with an old sadness. Alex squeezes him reassuringly but stays quiet. “I…everything was so fucked up then. I couldn’t get out, not after Rosa. Iz needed me, and Max sure as shit couldn't handle everything on his own.”
Alex hums in acknowledgement. It would be too easy to play Monday morning quarterback, but Michael doesn't deserve that. Besides, Alex doesn't know what he would have done at seventeen if he were in Michael's position, with the limited understanding he'd had at the time.
“After that summer, leaving wasn't an option anymore, even if I'd wanted to. I fucked up badly enough that UNM pulled my scholarships.”
Michael sighs and makes an aborted move to roll onto his stomach and bury his face in the pillow. Alex loosens his hold, but Michael shakes his head and presses back, renewing the close contact.
“I fucked up a lot of people's lives that summer. I hurt Liz and Arturo, Rosa. Isobel. I hurt you. There are a lot of things I regret, Alex, but staying was never one of them. I could never regret always being where you could find me.”
Alex tightens his grip on Michael as he falls silent, presses a kiss to the back of his shoulder. He waits until he's sure his voice will be steady to say, “When I first got back to town and told you I thought you'd be long gone, that was my biggest fear. It was so selfish of me. I wasn't in a good place, couldn't tell you how happy I was to see you. And god, I was sad that you'd been stuck here the whole time. I didn't understand then that this was where you'd needed to be.”
Alex buries his face in the curls at the nape of his husband's neck. He inhales the scent that's uniquely Michael, the first rainfall after a dry spell, a hint of motor oil that he can never fully wash away, a little bit of smoky bourbon.
Michael turns in his arms, brushes his nose against Alex's. “This is always where I've needed to be.”
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halevetica · 1 year
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Is that how you wanted this to go?(Malex)
Alex sat at the table with Kyle across from him, a half drank beer in hand. He'd agreed to get a drink with Kyle to take his mind off of everything going on in his life...and because Kyle had told him he had something important to show him before pulling into the wild pony parking lot with a pleading grin a promise to buy drinks for the night.
Alex avoided the Wild Pony for many reasons. One was the bartender, the other was his ex, if you could even call him that, and lastly was the terrible music. Though the last one was more of an excuse that didn't out him for avoiding the other two.
He and Maria were getting better. Now that Alex didn't have to see her with Michael, it was easier. There was still a mild awkwardness between them, but it was dissipating.
"Another round?" Maria asked Kyle as she paused at their table.
"Sure, I'll take one." Kyle nodded.
"I'm okay." Alex held up his still half empty beer.
"Okay, I'm out-pacing you three to one." Kyle huffed at Alex when Maria left.
"This just isn't how I planned to spend my Thursday night."
"And how did you plan on doing that exactly? Staring at your father's old files? Trying to find information that's not there?" Kyle leaned back in his chair.
"I feel like that would be more productive than sitting here..." Alex's voice trailed off as Micheal Guerin walked into the wild pony.
Michael's eyes met Alex's across the bar.
Kyle turned to see what caused the sudden mood shift.
Alex dropped his gaze first, suddenly very interested in his beer.
"So that's why you didn't want to come." Kyle nodded, ignoring the accusing glare Michael directed at him.
"I can't escape him."
"Do you want to?" Kyle asked, a sympathetic smile on his lips.
In lieu of responding, Alex took a long swig of his beer. That was a complicated question. Everything about Michael Guerin was complicated.
"How's Forrest by the way?" Kyle asked with a knowing smirk.
Alex dropped his head with a chuckle. "Uncomplicated."
Kyle stood, gesturing towards an empty pool table. "Come on, let me kick your ass at pool."
Alex raised a brow at him before downing the last of his beer and following suit.
Alex managed to avoid Michael as he concentrated on the pool game. Kyle was beating him, but he didn't mind. It was a nice distraction.
Alex was lining up his next shot when Michael's laughter pulled his attention up and towards the bar where Michael was sitting on a stool, a raven haired guy stood between his legs. Michael's hands sat firmly on the man's hips, as if holding him in place.
Alex's chest clenched at the sight. Michael was known to be a flirt but he'd never actually seen him flirt with another guy before.
"You good?" Kyle asked, glancing to the bar.
Alex's grip on the pool stick tightened as Michael made eye contact with him before placing his cowboy hat on the guy's head.
Alex forced his focus back on the cue ball and with a little more force than he'd intended, took his shot.
The ball went wide, missing it's intended target by inches.
"Don't let him get to you, man. He's not worth it." Kyle offered with a shake of his head.
What Alex didn't say was that Michael was worth it. He was worth every jolt of jealousy, every nightmare, every reminder, and every heartbreak. He'd endure it all if it made Michael happy. But Alex was certain that this random guy didn't make Michael happy. The smile on his face wasn't genuine. So why the show?
Alex glanced back up to see the guy take off Michael's hat and lean in.
Jealousy coiled in Alex's gut. Was Michael actually gonna kiss this guy?
Michael started to lean back, his eyes falling to Alex, who couldn't bring himself to look away.
Their eyes met before Michael dove in with purpose. His lips crashing against the other man's.
Alex swallowed before setting his pool stick down and marching towards the door. Whatever game Michael was playing, he wanted no part of it.
He ignored Kyle calling after him.
He barely made it to the parking lot when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Alex."
Alex turned around, a sharp glare set into his expression. "What Guerin?"
"Where are you going?" Michael asked.
Alex could only stare at Michael. Was he seriously asking that question?
"Home." Alex said bluntly when it was obvious Michael expected an answer. He turned to walk away when Michael caught his arm, stopping him.
"Why?"
"Why?" Alex scoffed. "Could it be that you had your tongue down some other guy's throat?"
"So you're leaving? I thought you'd confront me about it." Michael released Alex's arm.
"What? Why would I do that?"
"I thought you'd see me with him and come yell at me for rubbing it in your face."
Alex raised his brows at Michael. "Is that how you wanted this to go?" he asked incredulously.
Michael splayed his arms out. "Just trying to get your attention, Alex."
"No, you wanted a fight. Well, guess what, I'm not giving you one." Alex's tone was calm despite his frustration. He turned to walk away again.
"And that's the problem."
Alex paused.
"You don't wanna fight for us. You'd rather run."
Alex whipped around, his patience waning. "I don't even know what I'd be fighting for Guerin. Like you said before, we're not good for each other."
"That's what I mean. You just let me go without a fight."
"My whole life has been a fight. I'm tired of fighting. And I wasn't going to compete with Maria."
"There's never a competition, Alex."
Alex took a step forward, putting less than two feet between him and Michael. "So you were with that guy to hurt me intentionally and you're mad because I didn't make a scene? Didn't demand that you can't be with anyone other than me?"
Michael pursed his lips, seeing the flaw in his plan.
"Maria and I broke up weeks ago."
Alex furrowed his brow. "And what, you thought I'd come running back?"
"I was hoping." Michael said, as if it was obvious.
Alex glanced to where Kyle had approached.
"I'm seeing someone anyway." Alex took a step back.
"Who? Valenti?" Michael scoffed.
"Forrest, actually."
Michael licked at his bottom lip. He should have guessed. Forrest was always too chummy with Alex.
"Besides, we're not good for each other, Guerin." Alex nodded to Kyle who nodded back and started for his car.
Michael's jaw clenched as he watched Alex follow after Kyle.
His hands pulled at his curls in frustration as he started back for the bar. As he reached the awning, he swung his arms down with a sharp, frustrated grunt. The nearby tables were hit with a gust of his telekinesis, clattering against the surrounding chairs.
He'd viewed this night going very differently.
*AN* Was gonna post this for Michael Guerin week for the prompt 'Is that how you wanted this to go' but it worked better from Alex's point of view so I'm just posting it as it's own thing.
Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!
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jule1122 · 4 months
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Malex Thanksgiving Ficlet
Just a little holiday fluff.
Read it on AO3
When Michael decided he wanted to host Thanksgiving, he imagined a table covered in delicious, picture perfect food, with their friends and family gathered around it, smiling and laughing.  It was nothing like that.
Michael was so worried about undercooking the turkey that it was quite possibly the driest thing any of them had ever tasted.  Alex had underestimated the amount of time it would take the mashed potatoes to boil so by the time he finished them, the sweet potatoes were cold and had to be reheated.  The crock pot blew a fuse, and Michael cut his hand opening the green beans and bled into the casserole so they had to start it again.
But Maria brought Mimi’s famous cornbread stuffing, and Greg had taken up baking during the pandemic and made rolls that rivaled any bakeries.  The turkey wasn’t bad if you poured enough gravy on it, and no one was more surprised than Alex when his mashed potatoes were deemed worth the wait.
Michael - exhausted from getting up at 3am to start the turkey - fell asleep during Dallas’s blessing.  But Dallas made Max cry so everyone was too busy teasing him to notice Alex nudge Michael awake.  Kyle keeps checking the football scores on his phone, and Bonnie and Rosa get into a loud debate about some band only the two of them have ever heard of.
Liz forgot the pies, but Isobel brought double the wine requested and that seems to make up for it.  After Isobel breaks three glasses trying to clear the table with telekinesis, Kyle takes over and cleans the kitchen to surgical precision.  Alex makes popcorn everyone is too full to eat, and Kyle finally gets to watch the late game.
Alex and Michael fall asleep on the couch while Max and Dallas are bringing the tree in from the garage.  When they wake up the house is empty and quiet, the tree is up, the lights strung, and the ornament boxes stacked neatly next to it.
Alex yawns and hugs Michael to him.  “Wow, that was. . .”
“A disaster.”
“Perfect.”
They say at the same time.
“Best Thanksgiving of my life,” Alex tells him sincerely.
“Mine too,” Michael agrees.  “But we’re not doing it again, right.”
“Hell no,” Alex says, then catches the way Michael winces. “You already invited them for Christmas, didn’t you?”
“I love you,” is Michael’s only reply.
“I love you too,” Alex sighs. “There’s always catering.”
“Or a Christmas miracle.”
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gra-sonas · 2 years
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Will you write Heartstopper fic?
Hmmm... haven't thought about it, and I'm not sure if I'd be any good at it tbh? Like, what I could I even write about? The show is perfect as it is, I don't feel like I could add anything meaningful to it.
If I have an idea about a ficlet, maybe, but I don't really see myself writing Heartstopper fic.
(Also, there are quite a few Malex WIPs I haven't worked on in ages, they'd probably get really mad at me if I'd "cheat" on them. 🤪)
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foramomentonly · 2 years
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RNM Week--Day Three
prompt: “This song makes me think of you."
For @haloud because I like you a lot.
"This song makes me think of you," Michael murmurs, his hand in Alex's hair brushing strands away from Alex's temple.
Alex laughs quietly.
"What song?" he asks, "your playlist ended ten minutes ago."
It's a warm night, but Alex is burrowed in Michael's arms anyway, head against his shoulder, on the new, rocking loveseat he bought for the patio when Michael moved in. Michael's boot on the ground keeps them gently swaying, the glow of the lights from the house and those strung in Alex's tree keep the area well lit as dusk turns to evening turns to night. Their beers are empty, the music has stopped, but still they sit, silent until Michael had pressed a kiss to the crown of Alex's head and spoke of a song that Alex can't hear.
Michael hushes Alex's question with a low breath of air.
"You don't hear 'em singing?" he asks, a teasing lilt in his tone.
Alex pauses, hones in on the ambient sounds around them; the rumble of a passing truck, the slight creak of Michael's boots as he rocks, and the symphony of chirping from countless unseen insects.
"You mean the cicadas?"
"Their sounds are called songs," Michael answers. "Each species has a different one."
Alex nods exaggeratedly, amused by Michael's sudden interest in entomology.
"So why do the cries of a thousand horny insects remind you of me?" he asks, then laughs, slipping the hand draped across Michael's lap under his shirt, plam resting against his warm skin. "Or is the answer in the question?"
Michael shakes his head.
"They're calling each other," he breathes, voice seeming far away, and when Alex looks up his eyes are a little dazed, even as he tilts his chin down to meet Alex's gaze. "They can hear each other across the desert, across huge distances. Doesn't matter. They hear it and they find each other."
His golden eyes are misty, in proper lighting maybe even wet, and Alex pushes himself up to press his forehead against Michael's, to kiss him warm and chaste on his pink, trembling mouth. Michael's palm slides to the back of Alex's neck and squeezes, and he presses his lips to Alex's cheek, his temple, the hinge of his jaw. Alex's breath catches when Michael nips at his throat, and his hand under Michael's shirt grows restless, ghosting over muscle and skin, thumb brushing against a hard nipple. Michael groans low and soft, pulls back to grin wide at Alex, a shared secret clenched between his teeth.
"Lot of 'em in the summer," he says pressing his thumb to the corner of Alex's mouth, "in the desert."
He watches Alex suck his thumb between his lips with dark eyes, feels him sink his teeth gently into the pad of it.
"Could hear them from the back of my truck," he says, breath quickening as Alex sucks. "Fucked you so many times to the song of a bunch of horny insects."
Alex lets Michael's finger slip out of his mouth and rasps, "Wanna do it again?"
"Right here?" Michael asks, arching a questioning brow, but his tone isn't unwilling.
Alex grins, but stands quickly, reaching out a hand to pull Michael with him.
"Bedroom," he says, "but we can open all the windows."
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pastelwitchling · 3 years
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“I don’t know how not to love you”
Alex’s eyes burned from staring at a screen. He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking, not for the first time, that he should really invest in some blue-light glasses.
When he felt the touch of fingers on his shoulders, arms wrapping around him, his body melted and for the first time in hours, he could relax. He heaved a slow sigh and let his head rest back against Michael’s stomach. He reached back and pushed his hand into Michael’s curls, using the soft warmth to draw strength.
Michael leaned down and kissed the top of Alex’s head. Alex’s eyes fluttered shut.
“You need to sleep,” Michael murmured into his hair.
Alex’s lips quirked up in a tired smile. He tilted his chin up, pulling Michael down until their lips were inches apart. He breathed, “And you need to kiss me.”
Michael smiled like he couldn’t help it, and he closed his mouth over Alex’s, one hand sliding up to cup his jaw and deepen the kiss, even upside down.
When he pulled back, their lips leaving a deliciously wet sound, he grinned and whispered, “You still need to sleep.”
“Love to,” Alex sighed, looking back at his screen, “but I want to finish decrypting these files for Deep Sky.”
“You fake transfer papers,” Michael said, rubbing Alex’s shoulders and making him groan. “You get covert blood results, you decrypt secret coding. Anything you don’t know how to do?”
Alex scoffed. “I don’t know how not to love you.”
It was meant to be a little tease, but Michael blushed and his gaze darkened. He tilted Alex’s head back and kissed him again, slipping a hand down Alex’s neck, his collarbone, underneath his shirt, nearly popping a button.
Michael’s nails dug into his pecs, his nipples, and Alex gasped, grabbing his wrist to still him. They pulled back enough to breathe, panting heavily, and suddenly, by the filthiness of Michael’s smirk, the way he licked his lips, sleep had a whole new meaning.
“Alex,” Michael growled, urging him up.
Alex nodded hazily, unable to do anything else. “Yeah,” he said, dazed. “I can sleep.”
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skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years
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Now for something totally new and unrelated to anything else... a prostitution au ficlet. (Malex, rated Mature)
...
“You know, they say you have a sex addiction…” Alex commented, rolling onto his stomach and reaching for his pack of cigarettes on the bedside table without glancing at Michael to gauge his expression.
 The whining window air conditioner cooled the sweat on his skin and did its best to combat the smell of sex that hung in the room. It would never get rid of it completely. Too many bodies had slaked their lust against every surface the room had to offer and then some. It would always smell like semen and despair despite Alex’s best efforts. He was the room’s sixth owner in two years. He’d worked his way up from the gloryholes and breeding benches to being a whore with his own fucking door and mattress. If there was such a thing as rank in a brothel besides madame and prostitute, he’d say he was working his way up quite quickly. He’d only been sold to Madame DeLuca’s three months ago and he’d never had to kneel in a fucking bathroom stall once.
“Who? The media?” Michael chimed in, moving to lay on his stomach beside him. He plucked the pack from Alex’s hand and fished out his own cigarette, sticking it between his lips and waiting for Alex to bring the lighter flame over to ignite for him. He sucked in a long drag before exhaling and moving back onto his back again, curls everywhere against the pillow. Alex looked over at him and admired the long length of his body and the completely unabashed way he showed it off. Guerin was a rich Antaran immigrant with royal connections back home. He was something of a celebrity on Earth, but Alex knew fuck all about what he did besides grace the gossip columns in various states of drunken distress.
“I would rather exchange sex for money. I know exactly what I’m getting. I don’t want to exchange sex for emotions, dependence, or dishonesty. I like to keep some things in my life simple,” he finally finished, not looking at Alex but instead staring with a faraway look at the dark ceiling above. 
Alex snorted and rolled to mirror Michael’s position, watching their smoke trails twist and join in the air above them. He felt so good right then. His body was warm and sated, his nerves alive but his brain finally fucking quiet. Michael was warm next to him, silent and undemanding. An idea occurred to him and before he could question it too much, he let it pass his lips. 
“You know, I could be that for you. You wouldn’t have to keep making a spectacle of yourself. Just put me up in some nice room in that big house of yours and keep me as your fuck doll. I’ll entertain myself when you’re away with online shopping sprees and nights with the girls. I could be the safe option. I promise not to fall in love with you. I’d be at your disposal for every carnal desire you can think up and then I’ll go back to my room before you’re even done wiping down.”
He felt Michael’s silent amusement as he continued to smoke his cigarette. A look from the corner of his eye showed Alex that Michael had almost a curl of a smile on his lips. After a moment, Michael spoke up. 
“You’d like that, would you? Trapped in some mansion in the middle of nowhere just waiting on some asshole to come home long enough to fuck you until you can’t walk straight and then be left alone again?” Michael asked, laughter somewhere buried under the acrid smoke in his lungs. 
“Isn’t that my life now? Trapped in this fucking brothel waiting for the madame to bring up another stranger to fuck me however he wants before sneering at me and leaving?”
“So what do I offer as an enticement to leave all this? At least you get variety here.”
Alex thought about how to answer that while he sucked in deep drags of smoke. He decided since his honesty so far hadn’t gotten him shot down immediately, he’d continue on that track.
“You’re got a pretty good cock on you for one. You’re handsome. You’re rich. You don’t want to save me. And you’ve already asked for me specifically the last four times you’ve come here. I just figured it would be more convenient for you to buy instead of continuing to rent.” Alex finished with a shrug, rolling to grab the ash tray to set on his stomach so he didn’t get his covers disgusting. He normally didn’t smoke with customers. He normally didn’t smoke after sex unless it was bad and he needed to calm down. This felt more like a luxury smoke, however. He felt good and he wanted to indulge some more. He felt calmer than he had all week laying there next to the Antaran.
“How do you know I haven’t been at some other whorehouse with some other whore five times after specifically asking for them?” Michael asked, a little nastily. He was trying to poke Alex’s buttons, trying to get him to react emotionally. It was a test. It was always a test with Michael. Alex understood. He’d been fucked up by people who didn’t mean the things they’d said, people who’d promised to love him, people who’d sworn to keep him safe… He understood having to push back when someone got near the boundary line.
“I don’t,” Alex replied simply. He looked over at Michael who was watching him with a look of confused amusement on his face. Alex decided he was done with the conversation. Michael didn’t look like he was taking the offer seriously. He’d bring it up in another month if Michael was still fucking him stupid like he had earlier.  
“You’re not like any other whore I’ve ever met,” Michael commented, reaching out to trace a finger down the side of Alex’s face. Alex rolled his eyes and shoved his body off the bed, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray before setting it back on the side table. He padded over to his en suite bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the water warm up. He looked back over his shoulder at where Michael was still leisurely smoking in bed. Michael quirked an eyebrow at him when he caught his attention. 
“Well, are you going to shower off before you go or do I need to let the madame know you need another hour?” Alex asked impatiently. Michael nodded and started to curl his body into a sitting position. He stood up off the low bed and walked over to the talk box on the wall. Keeping his gaze locked with Alex’s, he pushed the intercom button. 
“This is Guerin in room five. Let the madame know I need another hour,” he said easily. A feedback-filled reply came through and he stepped away from the wall and sauntered towards where Alex was leaning against the doorframe. When he was standing in front of Alex, shit-eating grin on his face, Alex plucked the almost-finished cigarette from between his lips and flicked it casually into the toilet bowl, eyes glued to the green-gold of Michael’s. Michael’s smile widened as he reached out and grabbed Alex’s waist, pulling him until their chests were flush. Alex didn’t move, just stared. Michael bent his head forward and kissed up Alex’s neck to his ear, causing goosebumps to spring out over Alex’s skin. One of his hands smoothed down to knead at Alex’s ass cheek while the other moved up to tangle in Alex’s hair, pulling his head to the side to give Michael more access to his neck. Alex remained impassive. After a moment, Michael sighed and moved to peck Alex’s lips lightly. 
“Fine. But you don’t know what you’re getting into. And you better remember that you promised not to fall in love with me,” Michael warned in a quiet, defeated voice. He gave Alex such a naked, sad look that he could no longer keep pretending he didn’t want to do this. Alex nodded once and moved in, wrapping his arms around Michael’s neck and he began to kiss Michael for all he was worth. Immediately, Michael’s hands seemed to come alive with more energy against his body. Alex kissed and kissed until he had to pull back or suffocate. Michael was panting and Alex could feel him getting hard between them. 
“Just remember you can’t fall in love with me either,” Alex said. He didn’t give Michael a chance to respond before turning their bodies and pulling Michael into the hot spray of the shower. He was going to get out of the brothel. Then he’d be able to find a way to get out of Michael’s and go home. 
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lambourngb · 3 years
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For the ask meme: “Alex craned his neck, looking over his shoulder, barely breathing hard despite the steep angle of their hiking path: “You know, love, if you make me carry you down off this mountain, I’m telling my PT on you.’”
[untitled, established relationship but still new reunion, fluff, 760 words ]
Alex craned his neck, looking over his shoulder, barely breathing hard despite the steep angle of their hiking path, “You know, love, if you make me carry you down off this mountain, I’m telling my PT on you.’”
“Are you talking to me, or your dog?” Michael panted, between steps as he kept a keen eye on both Alex and the excited tail of Alex’s German Shepherd, Bear. Though it was apparent it was only Michael struggling, while Bear was infused with the same boundless energy as Alex, trotting on the leash happily during their hike.
“Both,” Alex smirked confidently from the side of the trail. The sun was brighter now, the thick tree line had retreated as they climbed higher in elevation, and caught the red-brown highlights in Alex’s hair. With his pant legs rolled up over his hiking boots, a flannel blatantly stolen from Michael’s wardrobe, and a healthy flush of exertion on his cheeks, Alex was the best thing Michael had ever seen. Damn him for not breathing hard though, after basically climbing a mountain with one less leg than Michael. “You know this was your idea, right?”
It was true. Michael had signed on to all of this torture when he mentioned to Alex that it was important that they go dates outdoors, with no possibility of falling into bed with each other, for at least two months. Hiking was the least sexy activity that Michael could think of that also coincidently Alex enjoyed doing.
“I’m a dumbass, you know that. I’ve never had a good idea in my life,” Michael joked before holding on to Alex’s hand to balance as they made it up the last few steps of the rocky ridge to step out onto the clearing. 
Alex made a loud buzzing sound in disagreement, “Nope, no talking down about my favorite person. Rule number 3, remember.”
If rule number 1 was dating openly and getting to know each other out of bed first, then rule number three was eliminating any sign of negative self-talk for them both. That had become clear within the first day of deciding to try one last time (or for the first time) to be a couple, that they were both primed to blame themselves for the past stumbles and hurt. Sandwiched between the agreements was rule number 2, love. A ready and often declaration of love between them, in the present tense, every night, even if they fought. 
Michael removed his black cowboy hat to wipe the sweat from his face, before leaning in to brush a light kiss on Alex’s lips. “You’re right. Rule 3.”
“It was also a good idea,” Alex replied in turn, accepting the kiss easily. Though the mountain wasn’t empty of fellow hikers, his eyes stayed on Michael’s with a steady, self-assured peace. “This is a good reminder for us to do this.”
“How so?”
“From now on, the obstacles in front of us are only physical, and we can climb them together.”
The vista of the valley stretched out all around them, a beauty that was ageless but also unforgiving to the foolhardy. It was the harsh cut of the sun that had Michael’s eyes tearing up, he decided, as he slipped his arm around Alex to take in the view. He felt the heavy weight of Alex’s head lean against the top of his shoulder, then the tickle of breath on his skin as Alex inhaled deep into the hollow of his throat. “I love you.”
He could feel the pull and lift of Alex’s smile without seeing it, “I love you too, baby.”
Bear suddenly nosed between their legs, stretching upward for a yearning pat from Michael. Michael giggled, feeling the fatigue melt away in the moment, “Okay, I didn’t forget you, we love you too, Bear. You’re a good boy.”
The soft baby-talk to his dog from Michael had Alex smiling wider even wider at him, clearly amused at how besotted they both were with each other. Bear was still technically Alex’s dog. Transitive property kicked in there, Alex had argued to him once, that because he was Michael’s, then therefore Bear was Michael’s.
“Michael will even carry you home, right, love?”
“Okay I never said-”
“I think it was implied in rule number 4, remember?”
“‘I will always have your back in whatever you do in life’ now that’s really being pedantic, Alex-”
Bear yipped in response to their playful bickering, and then yipped louder as Alex tipped Michael’s chin down to kiss him into agreement.
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a1kitkat · 3 years
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Malex Ficlet - Making a Mess
Summary - Michael paints Alex’s nails
Disclaimer: @djchika I blame you for this... and @blaidddrwg1982 too
*******
“Will you stop squirming?”
“I’m not!”
“You totally are! It’s almost like you don’t trust me or something…”
“Of course I trust you; I just… don’t want you to…”
“What? Make a mess?”
Alex felt his cheeks beginning to flush but he smiled almost shyly as he gazed into Michael’s sincere eyes. When Michael looked at him like that, it was hard not to just melt into a puddle of goo. It was childish to feel that way but Michael just had that effect on him.
“Come on, Alex,” Michael’s voice was gentler now. “Just relax and be patient.”
He sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to relax as Michael held his hand in his left, palm down. Alex wanted to flex his fingers but didn’t as Michael brought the tiny brush of the nail polish to his nail.
His movements were slow, delicate, methodical. He was so careful to keep it neat and even, away from Alex’s cuticles. If his hand slipped, he’d take a cotton swab with acetone on it and wipe the excess polish from Alex’s skin.
Alex hadn’t painted his nails in years, wasn’t even sure why he was doing it now but he’d found the black polish in an old box and Michael had become very excited to see it. Alex hadn’t thought twice about it until a few days later when he’d been making out with Michael on the bed in the airstream and Michael had taken his hand, kissed his fingertips then asked to paint his nails.
They were still on Michael’s bed when he’d used his telekinesis to bring the polish (that he’d clearly taken from Alex’s), acetone and cotton swabs to them.
Alex couldn’t help staring at the look of concentration on Michael’s face, like he wanted to make it absolutely perfect. He smiled to himself but was still grinning when Michael looked up and their eyes met.
“See? I’m not making a mess,” Michael stated, a smirk on his lips.
“Not yet,” Alex replied.
Michael’s hand slipped and the black polish blemished Alex’s skin. He picked up the swab, licked the excess acetone from it then brushed it over the polish. Alex chuckled to himself.
“What?” Michael asked, mock surprise in his voice. “That was your fault for distracting me.”
Alex held his tongue until Michael finished with his thumb nail. When he took a moment to pause and examine his handiwork, Alex reached over with his free hand and touched Michael’s cheek. This caused him to look up at Alex.
“I was laughing at the idea of kissing you if your mouth is going to taste like nail polish remover,” Alex confessed.
“You were thinking about kissing me? While I’m painting your nails?”
“Guerin, I’m always thinking about kissing you.”
Alex leaned closer, his lips almost touching Michael’s before he diverted and kissed his cheek then his neck followed by his earlobe.
“Hey!” Michael pouted. “Careful, I almost spilt it all over my sheets!”
“It’s not the worst thing we’ve done to your sheets…”
Michael turned and tried to return Alex’s kiss but he dodged his affections and Michael laughed before catching Alex’s other wrist in his grasp. They were both giggling as they each looked into the other’s eyes.
“I’m sure we’ll do much worse in future,” Michael agreed. “These sheets have seen better days…”
He moved closer, his lips almost touching Alex’s as his warm breath teased Alex’s skin.
“I’m still not kissing you,” Alex replied.
Michael’s jaw dropped in indignation and he lifted Alex’s still unpainted hand to his lips to kiss each of his fingertips. Alex laughed and tried to pull away as Michael grabbed the bottle of acetone, popped the lid which rolled away across the floor.
They playfully wrestled with the open bottle as Michael tried to pour a hint of liquid onto Alex’s fingertip only to miss completely. The acetone slipped down Alex’s wrist and Michael immediately tried to lap it up with his tongue.
“Guerin, stop!” Alex gasped through tears of laughter while trying to keep him at arm’s length.
Michael dropped the bottle onto the floor, the liquid spilling and the smell began to overpower both of them. Michael was used to it, Alex was out of practice. They both got to their feet and Michael wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist.
“I forgot how strong that smell is,” Alex coughed.
“Maybe we should take this outside into the fresh air?” Michael suggested.
He threw the door open in a bid to let some air into the small trailer. Alex grabbed Michael’s hand, guided him outside and took a deep breath.
They turned and looked at each other; Michael’s eyes feasted upon Alex’s body and suddenly felt disappointed that his actions had left Alex with only one hand decked in black nail polish. He reached for him, took both of Alex’s wrists into his hands and held them up to examine his work.
The spilt acetone had splashed onto the already polished nails and Michael’s heart sank.
“Serves me right, huh?” Michael asked as he brushed his thumb over the now speckled nail.
Alex shook his head, freed one hand from Michael’s grasp and placed it upon his cheek. He urged Michael to look into his eyes and he smiled lovingly at him.
“All this means is you’ll have to come home with me, help me shower to get all this acetone off my body… being as thorough as you possibly can… then we’ll start again,” Alex said to him. “And I’ll love it because I love you, I trust you and we won’t sit on my bed to do it.”
“Oh?”
“That’ll come after…” Alex wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck. “Once the polish is dry and I can do things with my newly painted nails, put them in places you love to feel them…”
Michael held back a whimper, leaned forward to place a kiss to Alex’s neck but was surprised when Alex turned to meet him halfway. The acetone lingered on his breath but it was okay, it was Michael’s unique taste and Alex wouldn’t have him any other way.
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spaceskam · 4 years
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inspired by this; mentions of abuse
Alex Manes was beautiful.
Tear stained, fear stained, bruised and broken–he was gorgeous. Michael couldn't stop staring at him.
They sat in the front seat of his truck in the middle of a desert, phones left in the window sill of Isobel's bedroom without her knowledge. They didn't want to be tracked. So they sat there in silence, taking in the fact that this could be it.
Yesterday morning, Alex had been dragged to a recruitment office. He signed his life away with a fine tipped pen. Now he sat here.
"Where am I allowed to touch?" Michael asked, breaking the silence for the first time since Alex had appeared in the window and pleaded him to take him away.
Alex's eyebrows furrowed and looked at him, eyes wet and lips in a permanent frown. Michael wanted to hold him; Michael wanted to be held. He wasn't sure what was okay and what was forbidden. He was scared to make things worse.
"Why would you want to?" Alex asked. Michael scooted closer as best he could.
"Because," I love you, "I want to hold you."
"I ruined you."
"You saved me."
Alex made a low whine in protest, shaking his head as a tear fell again. He curled up in a ball and tried to become one with the door.
"You taught me that I'm wanted," Michael whispered, "You taught me good things come eventually."
"I'm not good," Alex whimpered.
"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," Michael insisted. Alex shook his head.
"I took away your hand."
"If you did that, then I bruised you."
Alex peeked up. He looked like a child more than he ever had. Michael felt more like an adult than he ever had.
"You are not the bearer of your father's sins."
Slowly, slowly, slowly, Alex shifted. He held out his arm to Michael who moved closer. Alex slid his hand into his hair and brought his head to his chest. Fitting on the bench seat was simple whenever everything else felt so crucial. Life was ending, the world was turning, the sun would explode, and it was just them.
"Touch me here," Alex whispered, guiding Michael's good hand to his hip, "And here." He placed his palm to his cheek. "Not here." He hovered over the handprints on his neck.
"Okay."
"And you?"
"Touch me here," Michael parroted, guiding Alex's hand to his chest, "And here." He placed the other boy's fingers to his lips. "Not here." Michael held up his battered hand.
"Okay."
The moonlight wrapped around them through the windshield, holding them as they held each other and keeping them safe. What was blood and terror when the stars shined bright above them and gave them this?
Alex kissed him and took his strength.
Michael kissed him and took his fear.
Yes, Alex Manes was beautiful. Michael couldn't stop staring. Not even when the night ended and so did they.
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aydann-runs · 5 months
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Michael steps through the door to the Crashdown, removing his hat and scanning the cafe for Alex. He was supposed to meet him half an hour ago, but a challenging repair kept him late, and now Michael’s hungry on top of being frustrated. It’s a bad combination that’s not improved when he catches sight of Isobel, who–if body language is any indication–appears to be in the midst of an argument with Alex. He’s not even sure what Isobel, and Valenti, too, are doing here, since he’d only expected his husband.
Alex and Iz are leaning across the table of the corner booth, practically in each other’s faces, while Valenti plays on his phone. He’s very obviously staying out of the middle of whatever this is, and Michael’s more than half-tempted to follow his lead and just sit at the counter. Instead, he sighs and heads for the corner where two of the most important people in his life are currently at odds.
“...not going to change my mind,” Isobel is saying as Michael approaches the table. She gestures in Alex’s face with a french fry, and Michael rocks back on his heels in surprise when Alex snatches it out of her hand. With his teeth.
Isobel laughs, and Michael knows his sister, can tell it’s her delighted to be sparring with an equal laugh, and he relaxes for the first time since he left work. If Alex is feeling playful, and Isobel is amused, then whatever they’re arguing about can’t be serious.
“Hey, perfect timing!” Alex says as Michael slides in beside him. “Tell Isobel that dipping your fries in your milkshake is a game changer and she’s missing out.”
“It’s disgusting, Alex, and I can’t believe you still do it,” Isobel retorts.
“Wait, hold on,” Michael interjects. “This is what you were fighting about?”
“We weren’t fighting, Michael,” Isobel disagrees.
“Yeah, it was more of a debate,” Alex adds. “Isobel refuses to even try it, even though the saltiness of the fries actually enhances the sweetness of the milkshake. It’s food science, you explain it.”
Michael looks at Valenti, who’s just now coming out from hiding behind his phone. “A little help, bro?”
“Nope, I know better than to get between my girlfriend and my best friend,” Kyle says with a grin.
And that is really good advice. Michael’s pretty sure he’d be the biggest loser if he chose sides between Alex and Iz.
“Hey, you like what you like,” he equivocates, eating a few fries off Isobel’s plate and washing them down with a swig of Alex’s milkshake.
He doesn’t miss the triumphant smile his husband gives his sister, or her answering glare.
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Watched the Killing Eve s. 2 finale and this just....slipped out. Malex, warnings for blood, murder, manipulation, and other darkfic-type content.
Michael skids around the corner and freezes. 
The man’s hands are around Alex’s throat - and, by all appearances, have been there for a while. Alex is fading, his face going slack, his eyes acquiring that glassy look that means the life is leaving them. 
He doesn’t spent any time wondering who this guy is and how he got the drop on Alex. If Alex, whom he’s seen take on five men and win, is helpless in this man’s arms, then it means this man is more dangerous than anything they’ve encountered so far. 
So he doesn’t think. He reaches for his powers and pulls the man off Alex, who slides onto the ground, clutching at this throat. 
Except, of course, the man makes another attempt to lunge at Alex, and Michael can’t hold him still indefinitely. Even with practice, his powers are limited. 
“You have to - finish him off,” Alex rasps. He makes an effort to stand up and fails, his artificial leg buckling under him. 
He doesn’t think this time either. He reaches for his powers a second time and slams the man headfirst into a wall. Blood and brains go flying with a satisfying crunch. He hadn’t realized killing could feel like that. So visceral. 
But he can consider that later. All he cares about now is Alex. 
“You all right?” he asks, approaching Alex and offering an arm to help him up. 
“Fine. Or I will be,” Alex says, taking the proferred arm. “We have to get out of here.” In an instant, he’s Captain Manes again, surveying their surroundings for threats, reaching for his gun. 
Michael freezes. 
“You had that the entire time,” he accuses.“You could have shot him.” 
“Yes,” Alex says simply. 
But he hadn’t. 
“You wanted me to kill him.” 
Alex smiles, feral. “Yes,” he says softly.
He stalks towards Michael, cupping his face with a bloody hand, and Michael wonders whose blood.How many people had Alex killed, before Michael showed up. “I wanted you to know how it feels.” 
Michael doesn’t answer. 
“How does it feel?” 
He still doesn’t answer. It’s not because he doesn’t know. 
“We’re safe now, darling,” Alex says. “You made us safe. I’m proud of you.” 
He can’t help the way his eyelashes flutter at the praise. He can’t resist Alex’s kiss, either. 
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cosmiceverafter · 5 years
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Malex Carnival Date Night
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The swirling of colorful lights was nothing compared to standing next to Alex Manes. Michael felt like he was 17 again, as they entered the Roswell Carnival that was passing through their small town. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had the butterflies, especially as Alex reached for his hand. Their fingers intertwined, and the warmth of not only Alex’s skin against his but the gesture itself, went straight to his heart. This was such a big moment for the two of them. They were trying to start fresh; a new beginning.
Michael felt a sense of peace, as they made their way throughout the carnival, sharing laughs and other stories. They enjoyed getting popcorn, and other delicious fried food. Michael knew he would most likely have to drink acetone later to soothe his stomach. 
There were rows of games to play, and he only used his powers on three of them, which was definitely worth something. But he took note every single time Alex smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing. Michael’s heart then skipped a beat when Alex shot down each one of the figurines, picked the little alien toy, and handed it to Michael, whispering softly in his ear, “for my own personal alien.”
So afterward, Michael felt totally justified when they went on the Ferris wheel, and he paid the man a couple extra dollars to stop them at the top. The sun was setting, and the stars were starting to sprinkle over the sky. As they rocked back and forth at the very top, Michael looked over at the love of his existence and smiled. This was what happiness truly felt like. Alex then leaned in, and they shared a soft kiss before it slowly grew into something more. 
And this, this was what it felt like to be an alien on top of the whole world.
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chasingshhadows · 5 years
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(Riley left me alone for like two minutes so really this is her fault) 
Can you imagine a scene where after the finale, after whatever is gonna go down with Noah goes down, Michael is back in his Airstream, finally having to face the brutal weight of finding his mother right before violently losing her.
And he hears a car pull up. When he looks, it’s Alex’s truck. He knew he’d have to face him but he can’t right now, so he takes a breath and goes outside to make Alex leave.
Except... when he opens the Airstream door and takes that first step down, he sees Alex leaning up against the hood of his truck, guitar slung across his body.
Alex swallows. “I thought you might need some quiet... I know- I know it’s not the same, but...” 
Michael is just... staring at him, chest rising and falling with each breath.
So Alex starts to play. 
It doesn’t matter what the song is because moments after the chords reach Michael, he practically slips down the steps until he’s sitting, tears streaming down his face.
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stydiaeverafter · 5 years
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LOSING CONTROL!!
Season 2, maybe it’s been a few weeks since Malex have seen each other, after episode 1... and when Michael sees Alex, he has longer hair, maybe facial hair, and wearing clothes he wants—probably the leather jacket, low cut shirt. Or just like this:
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Anyway, Michael is so turned on; Alex just looks so good and he misses him. So he tries to look away... but he can’t. He never looks away—not really. Well, again... he is so turned on that he loses control of his powers and starts to blow up glasses at the CrashDown. He can’t stop. Liz figures it out, and dumps water on his head. He’ll act like he doesn’t know what happened, and Liz will be like, “Oh, hi Alex!”
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foramomentonly · 2 years
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Chai
The beautiful, talented, funny, smart @adiwriting sent me this meet ugly prompt and she deserves all the good things, so I wrote it. I hope you like it!
Will post on AO3 later tonight.
Prompt: obsessed with the pretty barista who flirted with me and then made me the worst chai latte of my life
"Michael, I'm literally begging you. Don't put your life on the line like this!"
Michael rolls his eyes, hardly breaking his stride as Isobel jogs up to his side to pull at his arm.
"I'm not risking my life, Iz," he scoffs, "I'm getting coffee."
"From the worst barista in the world!"
Michael shakes his head, stopping in front of the Crashdown's long, gleaming windows to pull off his hat and attempt to fluff his long, wispy curls. Isobel clicks her tongue as she watches him, finally taking pity and batting his hands away to wrap a single lock around her finger, taming it into a perfect ringlet that she allows to hang over a wide, golden eye.
"I know you like this guy," she says firmly, "but his lattes are literal poison, so please ask him out this time."
Michael grins, practically skipping up the street to the alley-turned-outdoor-cafe and heading straight to the order window cut into the side wall of the adjacent building, Isobel trailing wearily behind.
At the window, a man with dark eyes and a full mouth leans on his forearms on the sill, messy strands of brown hair falling across his forehead. The sleeves of his tee shirt are tight against his shoulders and arms. He scans the open air cafe half-heartedly, searching for tables in need of bussing or an unhappy customer. The grimaces after first sips and mostly full, pushed aside cups are evidence enough of general dissatisfaction, but the man doesn't seem surprised or chagrined. He looks resigned, bored even; that is, until Michael shuffles up to the window belt buckle-first, his half-unbuttoned flannel a deep V down his chest.
"Michael," the man says with a slow smile, rising up and pressing his hips against the little half door below the window to lean farther out towards his customer. "Let me guess: chai latte?"
Michael winks and pulls out his wallet, slipping a five dollar bill across the sill beneath two long fingers.
"You know me so well, Alex."
Alex takes the cash and drops Michael's change into his waiting palm, eyes darting over Michael's shoulder to Isobel behind him.
"Anything for you?" he asks, and Isobel snorts.
"No, thank you," she sings, "I like my stomach lining intact."
Michael glares over his shoulder, but Alex just laughs.
"I know," he says with a shrug. "I'm lucky to still have this job. The owner's a friend."
"DeLuca?" Isobel asks, suddenly pressed against Michael's back in interest.
"Yeah," Alex replies. "She needed some temporary help and I needed something to do after my discharge."
He points to his worn shirt, to the faded Air Force logo spread across his chest. Then he tilts his head, smiling knowingly at Isobel.
"Should I tell Maria you said hello?" he asks casually, and Michael watches his cool, confident sister sputter and squeak her way to a soft, unnaturally high, "Sure!"
Alex nods, flashing perfectly white teeth in a broad grin, then turns his back to them, whirring and grinding sounds drifting out of the open window as he makes Michael's coffee. Michael elbows Isobel teasingly, eyebrows raised in a silent question, but she just scowls at him and smooths out a non-existent wrinkle in her shirt.
"I added something new," Alex says hopefully when he returns, sliding a hot cup with a disturbing amount of foam resting atop a dark, dangerous-smelling liquid. "Maybe you'll like it?"
Michael smiles and raises the cup to his lips as Isobel gags. Burnt espresso, a mouthful of cardamom, and something spicy that numbs his lips--chili powder, maybe?--sit on his tongue as he swallows it all in a single gulp, a weak smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Alex sighs.
"If you can wait like ten minutes," he says, shoulders slumped, "Maria's on her way and she'll re-make it for you."
Michael shakes his head, Isobel's perfect curl flying across his forehead, and he covers Alex's hand where it rests on the sill.
"No, no," he says with a squeeze to Alex's dry knuckles. "It's great. Thank you."
Alex stares at him, dark eyes warm and dancing across Michael's face.
"Just ask me," he says softly.
"What?"
"Ask me out," Alex repeats in a low voice. "I'll say yes and you won't have to pretend to like my coffee anymore."
A broad, dopey smile spread across Michael's face. While he's distracted, Isobel dumps the latte into the trash.
"Go out with me tonight?" Michael breathes.
Alex grins and leans half out the window to take Michael by the back of the neck and pull him into a lingering kiss; chaste, but promising as Alex's fingers stroke through Michael's curls, tugging his head back so that Alex can offer a slip of tongue across Michael's bottom lip.
"Ok," Alex whispers against Michael's lips when they pull apart.
From behind him, Maria's sharp voice suddenly calls out, "Alex, why the fuck is the cayenne pepper out?"
Alex grimaces, Michael laughs, and Isobel jumps, running a hand through her hair and shoving Michael out of her way as she crowds the window, suddenly desperate for service.
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