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pastelwitchling · 11 months

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I’m so happy you’re still writing for RNM 😃 For the prompts, I would love to see a second part to chapter 60 from the first one shot collection! The one where Alex and Michael are stuck in a barn during a storm during the planetary alignment. I loved that fic!

Sequel to this fic.

***

The storm wouldn’t fade, and much like the clouds darkening further with every passing hour, so was Michael’s need for the man behind him.

He clawed up and down his own thighs, breathed deeply, even took to doing some pushups, all to work off the heat simmering in his gut and the desperate desire in his muscles to turn around, push Alex to ground, and take him.

If Alex noticed Michael’s agitation, and Michael knew he did, he didn’t comment. It felt like most of the night had passed since Michael had gone to touch him, and it had been a mistake. The single touch, the single kiss, hadn’t been nearly enough. If anything, all it did was give Michael enough of a taste to make him addicted.

He wanted more. He wanted every inch of Alex’s body against his own. He wanted to feel Alex’s hole spread around his cock, he wanted Alex writhing beneath him, begging and pleading for Michael to move faster, harder, deeper—

“Guerin, stop!” Alex snapped.

His voice pierced through Michael’s thoughts and he looked down at his fists. He’d been punching the barn walls, his knuckles turned scraped and bleeding. Alex was in his space in an instant, holding Michael’s hand between both of his own. His thumb gently grazed the back of Michael’s hand, keeping just to the edge of his injury. It was an innocent touch, meant to comfort and help, but all Michael could think of was the way Alex’s fingers slowly and sensually brushed his skin, and it made his heart race.

What he would do to have those fingers on his own chest, his stomach, in the wiry hair between his legs and wrapped around his—

He stepped back, away from Alex’s touch, his eyes shut tight as he shook his head. “D-Don’t,” he shook. “Don’t touch me, Alex.”

Alex didn’t look the least bit offended, just concerned. “It hasn’t faded yet.” He wasn’t asking.

Michael shook his head vigorously, turning away from him. “It—It’s getting worse,” he grit out. Alex was still so naked, his body chiseled and his shoulders wide and his chest hair so dark that Michael wanted to run his hands over his pecs and squeeze until Alex was moaning. He pressed the base of his palms to his eyes, his hand in pain as blood tricked down to his wrist.

“Get away from me,” he warned Alex. “You have to get away from me, Alex. All I want to do is lick your entire body, and it’s not going away.”

Alex was quiet behind him. Then Michael could hear faint footsteps, the sound of his prosthetic on the ground, and he clenched his jaw as Alex undoubtedly moved to the far corner of the barn, as far away as he could get.

Then Michael felt Alex’s hand on his shoulder blade, and gasped. His body was taut, his heart thrashing violently.

“A-Alex—”

“You have to still want me afterwards,” Alex murmured, and Michael shuddered as he felt his breath on the nape of his neck. “If I let you touch me now, you have to want to touch me after the storm. After the alignment. Forever.”

Alex’s other hand drifted up towards his waist, his fingers brushing Michael’s hip in the softest, most tantalizing touch on his way up, and Michael couldn’t help himself. He leaned back until he was against Alex’s strong chest. The feel of Alex’s hardened buds against his back, his cock against Michael’s ass cheek, his fingers on Michael’s waist, stretching closer to the trail of hair leading down, it left Michael so dizzy all he could do was moan.

“Alex . . .”

“Is that what you want?” Alex said in a low gravelly voice that had Michael gasping, his hands wandering down Michael’s thighs, moving to the soft inside. Alex’s warm lips brushed the shell of Michael’s ear. “You want to have me forever?”

Michael’s words cut off with a choke. He couldn’t think, let alone speak. “Forever,” he managed in a single breath. He put a hand up against the barndoor as Alex led him towards it, and hung his head back when Alex’s hand slid down to grip his already hard cock.

Michael gasped and would’ve fallen if not for Alex’s arm around his waist, keeping him upright against him. “Alex,” he whimpered, and moaned again as he felt Alex’s hardening dick press against him. He grinded his ass back, eager to be touched, to feel Alex’s hard length pressed between their bellies, to put himself in Alex’s mouth and thrust. The very thought, and Alex’s hand on his cock, had him nearly melting right then and there.

Michael’s tongue hung out as Alex’s fingers twisted his nipples, his other hand stroking him until he was painfully hard and leaking.

“But . . .” he choked out, gripping Alex’s wrists tight enough to bruise. He had to say this, he had to make sure. “But you said you . . . you didn’t want . . .”

Alex pressed his forehead to Michael’s shoulder a moment, then to Michael’s dismay, let him go. Did he change his mind? Did he really not want to keep going?

Alex turned him around, but to Michael’s relief, didn’t move away. “Don’t regret me,” he said, his cheeks flushed but his voice quiet. “It would kill me if you regretted me, Guerin.”

Michael was still panting, but he could feel Alex’s pain and fear and hope and lust and love in his few words, his dark eyes. He swallowed and took Alex’s face in his hands. “I want you, Alex,” he breathed. “Forever.”

Alex searched his face, and his eyelids turned heavier as he sighed with relief. “Then kiss me already—mmh!”

Michael cut him off as he surged forward, slotting his mouth against Alex’s and hugging his waist close, keeping their hardened lengths pressed together. Alex’s hands came down to his ass cheeks, and pulled him in closer, Michael making whimpering noises as their hips slapped together again and again.

Michael laid Alex down and hovered above him. He groaned against Alex’s jaw and said, “I hope you’re ready for a long night, Private. The planets aren’t moving anytime soon.”

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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crepuscularqueens · 6 months

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for the WIP ask tag - diner/college football au? and/or RNM cap quartet?

concept for diner/college described here

but im going to give you extra snippets for both! 💕💖💕

college football:

"Dunno," he turned his face towards Bucky this time, offering a half smile, "I contain highly contradictory multitudes, or some shit."

Bucky snorted, shaking his head and taking a drag from his cigarette. He turned his head away from Sam to let out the smoke, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"That’s the dumbest thing you've ever heard? I thought you and Steve have been friends since practically birth, he’s gotta have that beat."

A barked out laugh in response to that came from Bucky when the kitchen door flung open, Sam’s sister looking hassled as she poked her head out.

"There you are,” she said, “C'mon, Sam, time to get off your ass and back to work, breaks over."

Bucky looked up at her, friendly smile spreading across his face, giving her a little wave, "Hi."

"Hey there, sweetie," she said with a soft smile, returning the wave, "Come on inside when you're ready."

Sam didn’t know who confused him more, and he shot a bewildered look between the two as he stood up. Sarah just responded by pointing her thumb back over her shoulder, signaling for him to get inside. He rolled his eyes as he did.

"'Sweetie?'" he asked as the door clicked shut behind Sarah.

"What, I shouldn't be nice to your friends now?" she shot back with a quizzical expression, "I mean I've only seen him around here a couple times, but he seems like a nice kid."

Sure, of course he'd be nice to Sarah too. Why the hell not, he could literally be friendly with anyone who wasn't Sam.

"He's not my friend," Sam told her stubbornly.

rnm cap quartet:

As soon as he left the room, Sharon turned to Joaquin, "What the hell is going on here?"

"What- Sharon, I'm just trying to make sure you’re okay!"

"No," she dismissed that, waving her hand like it didn't matter, "I mean at the diner, you were shot."

Joaquin’s brows knit together, "I mean, obviously not, right?"

"We both saw the bullet hole."

"There has to be an explanation for that, I mean," he started, "You saw, Sharon, I’m fine."

"Look," Sharon told him seriously, pulling back her leather jacket to reveal the blood soaked shirt underneath, spread from a hole right over where her heart was, "It's sounds insane, I forgot in my panic to make sure you were alright but when we got into the sheriff’s car I-"

Joaquin’s face was getting pale again, he pressed his hand over the stain on her shirt, "I don't understand."

"It was Steve."

"What?"

"Steve was the only other person there!"

"What do you think he did, Sharon? Are you saying Steve Rogers - who we've known since elementary school - magically healed us?"

#ask #nymhciv #mine #tysm!!!!! 💕💕💕

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dirty-bear-rick-sanchez · 1 year

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Sunshine Daydream

Birdrick time! I just wrote and edited it over the space of the previous 3 hours so hopefully it’s alright. I just had the idea and wanted to get it out of my system lol

Summary: Birdrick fluff. Just a sweet time between our favourite space couple. It does get a little bit spicy for a couple of paragraphs but it’s very mild (no nudity or genitals or anything). There’s brief mentions of (unspecified) drug use but this is RnM so it’s fairly standard. There’s no set timeframe, it could take place at any point in the show. ~1.2k words

Rick meanders through a meadow, a pleasant breeze sweeping floral scents up to his nose. Rays of sunlight caress his face, warming his skin and glinting off iridescent beetles lurking in the grass. He pauses to observe the insects for a minute, basking in the rare opportunity to just exist without stress or judgement.

Eventually, he reaches a border of willow trees and ducks through their tickling tresses into a clearing bisected by a quiet river. The trees hide him from outside eyes and muffle distant sounds, lulling his mind and senses into relaxation.

From underneath the water, Birdperson emerges, flapping his wings. The motion sends drops cascading around him, and they glisten against his skin. He’s distracted by his bathing, and Rick knows he’s sufficiently hidden from view by the rushes framing the water’s edge. He uses the opportunity to remove his shoes and socks and roll up his trousers. Finding a gap in the reeds, he steps carefully into the shallow river and wades over to join the other man.

Birdperson is angled with his back to Rick, so Rick guides his arms carefully underneath BP’s wings and wraps them around his chest, resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder.

“Hello, Rick.” Birdperson rumbles affectionately, his deep voice reverberating along his bones so that Rick can feel as well as hear it.

Rick presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. Birdperson turns and wraps his own strong arms around Rick, and Rick leans back into them, letting them take his weight. They support him easily, as easily as they’ve supported him countless times before when he’s been injured in battle, or drunk, or when he’s fallen asleep while working and stirred to find himself being carried to bed.

Birdperson leans forward to meet Rick’s lips with his, and the change in angle means he’s practically dipping Rick like a ballroom dancer. Rick feels an unstoppable, cheesy smile stretch across his face, and he knows that BP can feel it too. Sure enough, the lips against his move into a similar position, and Rick hears himself giggle like a schoolgirl. Birdperson pulls back slightly so that their foreheads are still touching, gazing adoringly into Rick’s eyes.

With a couple of beats of his wings to clear off the excess water, he takes off, flying them the short distance to the shore. No matter how far Birdperson flies with Rick in his arms, Rick is sure it could never be long enough. Something about Birdperson’s presence, his strength, makes Rick feel giddy and light, even on the ground. With the addition of actual flight, the rush of wind through his hair, the exhilarating feeling of soaring above the ground in a way that’s impossible for his own species to experience without the aid of technology, it’s downright amazing.

However, despite all this, Rick is anything but disappointed to land. Birdperson lays him down gently amongst the rushes, the tall stalks providing further privacy. The other man kneels between Rick’s splayed legs, his arms either side of Rick’s torso, and leans in for another kiss. Rick lets his arms drift up and loop around BP’s neck, his fingers brushing against soft head feathers. Birdperson’s own hand comes to rest on Rick’s hip, his thumb moving in slow rhythm. Rick tugs at Birdperson’s feathers, firmly but not painfully, and is rewarded by a sort of gaspy chirp sound moaned into his own mouth and a squeeze of his ass. Rick can’t help but smirk from pleasure at having caused the usually stoic man to make such desperate, expressive sounds. Birdperson draws back from the kiss and gives him a look that Rick knows to mean that the smirk is about to be wiped off his face.

Sure enough, Birdperson moves his arms and, in a lightning-quick motion, removes Rick’s hands from their position and pins them down to the ground either side of his head, simultaneously shifting his lower body so that he’s also restraining Rick’s legs. A hot surge of pleasure rises through Rick’s body as he’s overpowered by someone genuinely bigger and stronger than him. There’s something so hot about knowing that he’s completely at Birdperson’s mercy, legitimately helpless.

The two stare at each other intensely, Birdperson admiring his work. Tension hangs in the air, both of them daring the other to break it, yet neither of them wanting to. Birdperson waits for Rick to either respond cockily so that BP can punish him, or to show how flustered he is and be teased; Rick waits for Birdperson to break first and get carried away by his own libido. They’re both locked in a game of chicken, each urging the other to give in to their lust.

“Rick?”

The voice is decidedly not Birdperson’s, jarring Rick out of his reverie. The fantasy splinters into shards and falls away to reveal the reality: Rick in the garage, sitting at his workbench in front of a forgotten project, an old photo album open next to it.

“Rick!” the voice comes again, more frustrated this time, and Rick places it as Morty’s. “Didn’t you hear me calling? Dinner’s ready. Mom says if you don’t join us for at least one meal this week, she’s making you drive Dad to his LARPing thing on Saturday.”

Rick groans, annoyed at both his daydream being interrupted and the prospect of having to babysit Jerry. “Fine, Morty. I’m coming, OK?”

As he gets up to leave, he pauses for a minute to glance down at the trigger for his fantasy: a photo taken at one of the festivals he and BP had attended together. Unimpressed with the lacklustre show and high out of their minds, they had wandered off from the actual site of the event, ignoring a sign specifically instructing festival-goers not to trespass. They had taken a leisurely stroll through a field and found a river, where they’d sat with their feet dangling in the water, talking about everything and nothing until the landowner had burst in and chased them off with a gun. The photo had been snapped not long before their sudden eviction, Rick grinning with his tongue out and an arm draped around Birdperson in a manner far too intimate for a friend he’d met only a few weeks earlier. However, Birdperson hadn’t minded, smiling along as widely as his unemotive face permitted.

Looking objectively, they’re both high and greasy and young. But through the rose-coloured lens of memory, Rick can see how happy they both are - even him, for what had been the first time he could remember after Beth and Diane had died. He sees the beginning of a decades-long friendship - and possibly something more. Even though he’s taught himself over the years, painstakingly, to keep his guard up, something about BP always manages to break through. Years of nihilism can’t hold up against the insistent, sappy hope he still holds that Birdperson might one day return his feelings.

“Rick?” Morty’s voice interrupts for the second time that day.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rick waves him off. He spares one final look at the photo before leaving to join his family, the ghost of a bittersweet smile on his face.

#rick and morty #rnm #rick sanchez #birdperson #birdrick #my fic #my writing #rick and morty fanfic #rnm fanfic #rick is a sappy old man and this is a hill i will die on #also he has such bottom energy/bratty sub energy #don’t get me wrong he definitely tops sometimes as well #but more bottom rick rep is needed #fun fact the title actually came before the fic on this one lol #for once #rather than me thinking up a crappy title so i post it to ao3

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salmonthestoryteller · 2 years

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Do You Dream About Me?

I can't believe my first RNM Post Finale Fic is Echo, but… this is for all my mutuals who are Echo Shippers. ❤️ (Mentions of Malex & Kybel)

At first Liz didn't know where she was. She was standing by a cliff face from which a small waterfall emerged to fill a pool of water at her feet. Despite that, all around her, unfamiliar vegetation was dying. There was a tall tree by the pool that looked familiar, though it was suffering as well - leaves spotted and decaying.

Then a wave of blue energy suddenly emerged from the distance, and as it passed through the area around her the landscape changed. The vegetation transformed, growing healthy - though still unrecognizable. It was when the blue wave healed the tree and it filled with familiar looking fruit that it finally hit her.

This was a dream. She was dreaming about Oasis.

There were three similar trees in Michael and Alex's backyard - she recognized the leaves now. Those were only saplings though. Spindly little things that had produced flowers, but no fruit yet. While Walt had told them what Nora and Louise had been capable of with plants, Michael had forbidden power use on the little trees. Loudly proclaimed they could try with a few of the remaining seeds if they wanted, but his carefully grown saplings were not to be touched.

There was one attempt by the other aliens to make a tree grow instantly from the carefully harvested seeds of the fruit that had allowed Dallas and Max to go to Oasis. It had been a spectacular failure. That had been a year ago, on the anniversary of their departure.

Two years. The Liz from all those years ago who had returned to Roswell would have run six months after Max left. She wasn't the same person anymore. The universe could pry her faith in Max from her cold dead hands.

In the dream she let herself wander around the pool of water; glanced up at the alien sky above.

“This is a sight for sore eyes.”

Liz turned at the voice, heart full and broken all at once. Of course, her mind wouldn't conjure up Oasis without conjuring up Max right alongside it. “Max.”

Max crossed the space between them to pull her into his arms. “I've missed you. Feels a bit like dying every day, being away from you.”

“Yeah, it does.” Liz felt tears fill her eyes. Wondered if she was crying in her sleep. “Stay away much longer, and I'm gonna have to hunt down my runaway groom.”

Max laughed, stepping back. “Yeah?”

“Michael says some trees produce fruit in their third year, so one more year and we might just have fruit.”

“Michael is growing fuel trees?” Max seemed amused. He would be, she thought. This conversation felt so real.

“Michael has a whole garden. He grows vegetables, Max. And he cans them. Rosa makes me send her jars of his tomatoes.”

“I'm going to give him so much shit for getting all domestic while I was gone.”

“You better.” She was waiting for the dream to fade. Max took her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “This feels so real.”

Max froze, and then a small teasing smile crept up his face. “Do you dream about me a lot?”

“Are you telling me you don't dream about me, Max Evans?”

“Constantly.”

The words made her smile. Best dream ever. “I'm not going to want to wake up.”

“Well, I need you to. Cuz I'm coming back. Tonight.”

Liz groaned. “Now this dream is being mean.”

“Liz, this isn't a dream.” Max told her.

“Of course, you'd say that - you're part of the dream.”

“No, I mean… this is a dream - obviously. But I'm not.”

The dream wasn't fading, and Liz took a moment to look around - the Oasis landscape had that dreamy quality she might expect from a dream. But Max seemed clearer. “How is that possible?”

“It's a mix of astral projection, lucid dreaming, and entering someone's mindscape.” Max explained. “It takes a lot of energy to do at this distance. And I didn't have the energy to spare for a long time. There's been so much going on. I have so much to tell you.”

Her mind races through the possibilities. “How do I know this is real?”

“Ask me something.”

“But if this is a dream, anything I know - you know.”

“Ask me something you don't know.”

“But how-”

“Ask me something Iz would know. Call her when you wake up.”

“You're really putting me on the spot here.” Liz wracked her brain. “Wait, freshman year. Did Kyle and her really play Seven Minutes of Heaven at Hanna Morgan’s party?”

“What? Did they? I don't know!”

“Well, darn, I really wanted to tease them if it was true.”

“Of all the questions, that's what you pick? Why would I know?”

“She's your sister. Shouldn't you know?”

“I can tell you the reason we were at Hanna Morgan’s party was because it was our birthday, and it was Isobel’s turn to choose what we did.” Max offered instead.

“Nowhere near as much fun, but something I didn't know. If this is real.”

“It is real.”

“You'd say that even if this was just a dream.”

“I can't wait to marry you.”

Liz felt herself smile. “You'd definitely say that in a dream, too.”

Max laughed. “Call Iz. I'll see you tonight.”

He released her hand and stepped back. Liz resisted the urge to snatch the hand back. “I love you, Max.”

Dream or not, she wanted to say it. A thousand times over.

“I love you, Liz.”

Liz woke up to the sound of her alarm. She groaned, burying her head in her pillow for a minute. It was just a dream, she reminded herself. It was Bonnie and Heath’s turn to play portal watcher today. They had a rotating schedule. Alex had set up a parameter alarm that would go off if anyone entered or exited the direct area at night.

She hit the off button on the alarm.

It was just a dream.

She dialed Isobel’s number.

“If there isn't an emergency, I am hanging up.”

“Ah, so Kyle's there. Hi, Kyle!” Liz grinned. Two years had taught her the only time Isobel wasn't a morning person was when Kyle spent the night and gave her a reason to stay in bed.

“He’s hiding under the pillow.” Isobel told her. She heard a murmur she couldn't catch through the phone.

“No, he's not.”

“Mentally he is. Anyhow, what makes you call-”

“Freshman year, did you, Michael, and Max attend Hanna Morgan’s party because it was your birthday and it was your turn to pick what you three did?”

“Wait, what?” Isobel sounded confused.

Liz felt her heart fall. She’d really thought... “Sorry, Isobel, I thought it was real. Stupid, I know.”

“Thought what was real? Liz, how did you know that?”

The words made her heart speed up. “Wait, it's true?”

“Yes, it's true. But what the hell brought it up at 7:30 in the morning?”

“It was real. Shit, Isobel. It was really Max.”

“Max? What about Max?”

Liz felt a smile light her face. “Max is coming home.”

#roswell new mexico #rnm fic #rnm echo #spoilers

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dr-lizortecho · 9 months

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I feel like this screams Max/Kyle but any RNM pairing is fine.

“I thought you were dead.”

You: how about a valevans Drabble?

Me: what about a short half assed mini fic??? (Sorry this got out of hand- and ends abruptly of course, as is my style)

It shouldn’t terrify him half as much as it does, but nonetheless it strikes through Max’s body cold and hollow. Fear making his mind snap into sharp focus, hands steady as he sets his jaw and reaches into the crashed vehicle.

The metal is warped and smoking.

Too many memories threatening to break his calm exterior- to snap him into uselessness. Rosa’s tires squealing before the car came to an abrupt stop, Frankie Vallette’s lifeless body being taken away on a stretcher.

Max’s hands almost start shaking as he presses two fingers to Kyle’s pulse point, a shaky breath escaping him at the soft thrum of life beneath his hands. Even as he frowns at how weak his pulse is.

“Fuck Valenti,” he growls. “I thought you were dead.” Though he knows it’s not his fault, knows the glowing wreckage in the road was undoubtedly alien.

Kyle stirs, eyelids opening almost imperceptibly, body still slack against his seatbelt. “Max?” He croaks out.

The exhausted, nearly broken sound makes something natural and protective flare to life in Max’s chest, his hand sliding up to cup Kyle’s cheek. “Yeah, it’s me. I got you.”

Kyle seems to relax slightly at that, his consciousness still not fully with him as he fails to notice their predicament. “Good. I was… thinkin’ about you?” It’s a question that trails off, like he doesn’t remember why. Doesn’t remember the dumbass argument that had him driving home at three in the goddamn morning.

There’s a piece of metal protruding out of Kyle’s stomach- another unsavory memory rolling off Max as he strokes his thumb along Kyle’s cheekbone.

“Were you now?” Max asks softly.

Kyle frowns, eyes drooping closed again. “Mhmm. You’re dumb… so dumb.”

Max chuckles, heart twisting violently in his chest at the action. “Something we can agree on,” he says gruffly.

“No,” Kyle says weakly. “Only I get to-“ he winces, seeming to finally be waking up in some way or another. The pain in his abdomen finally registered. “Only I get to call you dumb.”

Max tries to smile, but it turns into a sad look as he releases a shaky breath. “This is gonna hurt babe.”

Kyle frowns, “I hurt…everywhere?”

Which sends a pang through Max’s heart, even as he gives Kyle a wry smile. “Just breathe.”

“Sound like me-“ Kyle says, his snark starting to return. Even as his body seems to start reacting to the pain, waking up in a soft panic, one Max can watch him try and repress. He seems to realize he’s in his car, realize the pain he feels is a byproduct of a crash. “Fuck,” he breathes out, wincing as he adjusts slightly. Becoming all too aware of the foreign object in his abdomen.

Max braces himself for the inevitable screams- Kyle’s pained cries had haunted his nightmares for weeks after the last incident. But this was worse already- had started to overlap too many other untouched traumas.

He grips the metal in Kyle’s stomach, ignoring the soft whimper his boyfriend gives at the contact. His breathing becomes heavier and ragged, body tightening up in preparation.

“Breathe,” Max says calmly, “I need you to relax baby.”

Kyle frowns, “no soy tu bebé.”

Max chuckles humorously, “not what you said last week.” Then he’s gripping the metal and pulling it free, wincing at the way it sticks for a second.

The scream rips out of Kyle, body convulsing as his hands fly out to grip the steering wheel. Max’s stomach flips, chest aching as he hurriedly presses his palm to his stomach, hands slick with blood and sliding sickeningly across skin and torn clothing.

Kyle releases a soft yelp as Max’s hand presses against his open wound, hand heating up as he starts using his powers. It always feels like getting his blood drawn and sticking a fork into an outlet all at the same time. The strain on his cardiovascular system tangible as his heart squeezes, as Max pushes all of his energy into his hand, into Kyle’s body.

His vision blurs, mind wandering, body teetering at the edge of some cliff. Max squeezes his eyes closed as sweat starts beading on his forehead, the wound stitching closed beneath his palm. The feel of skin weaving itself back together always makes him feel sick, stomach churning, nausea wracking his body.

But Max doesn’t stop, he keeps pushing at the invisible seam in his mind, where his energy meets Kyle’s, where their bodies and minds are stitched together. He doesn’t know what the internal damage looks like, doesn’t know how much effort it will take to make Kyle’s abs shiny and new. Which would usually make him blush- but not with his hands slick with Kyle’s blood.

“Max,” Kyle manages, throat hoarse. “Max stop.”

He sounds bad. Voice still weak, body weaker as he tries to push Max’s hands off his body, tries to get him to stop.

“I’m fine,” Kyle says. Voice falling flat to Max’s ears. Even as he presses his palm tighter to his body, not wanting to stop till he knew Kyle was safe. Fully safe.

“Max,” Kyle snaps, the same tone he used back at the house. When he’d been mad about him for putting what he wanted on the back burner, again, all to keep a town placated instead of letting it unravel beneath their feet. “If you kill yourself wearing that godforsaken badge-“

Max snaps out of it, remembering their argument, how Kyle had mentioned the badge killing his dad.

“Sorry,” Max mumbles, body already grown heavy, mind sluggish. He’s going to puke. Which he does, managing to jerk back and double over in the grass. His mouth tastes sour and his stomach churns uncomfortably.

There’s a sharp click as Kyle undoes his seatbelt, breathing still ragged. Enough to have Max wipe at his mouth with his sleeve as he straightens back up.

Kyle’s brows are knit together as he meets Max’s eyes, “the fuck is that?” He nods to the glowing orb cratered in the road.

“No idea,” Max mutters, not caring at all as he grabs Kyle and pulls him close. Until he’s fitted beneath his chin, heart beating erratically in his chest. A welcome comfort as Max holds him tight to his body.

“You’re gonna crush my ribs,” Kyle complains, even as he wraps his arms around Max’s waist and burrows his face into his chest.

Max chuckles, pressing his lips to the side of Kyle’s head in a soft kiss. “Am not.”

“I love you,” Kyle mutters into his shirt.

“I’m sorry.” It’s spoken with a heaviness they both understand, even as Max pulls away and starts yanking Kyle’s shirt off.

Kyle bats at his hands, “not here, Evans.”

“I’m just checking,” Max says with a no nonsense tone. Fingers already sliding across his abs, over the smooth skin that only a few moments before had been an open wound.

“Checking my ass,” Kyle grumbles.

Max feels something like relief and adrenaline crashes through his veins, if a little late, and he starts laughing. “I mean- if you want.”

Kyle groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’m dating a teenage boy.”

“On a serious note,” Max can’t help his smile, “we should call Alex. Get this road blocked off. And Liz. Find the answer to whatever that thing is.”

“I get impaled and your solution is to call our ex’s,” Kyle all but pouts. Then he’s grabbing at Max pulling him back in for a kiss.

“I just threw up,” Max laughs, ducking his head.

“No worse than your morning breath,” Kyle mutters.

Max scrunches up his nose, “heyyyy.”

send me a paring + prompt <3

#roswell new mexico #rnm #max evans #kyle valenti #valevans #rnm fic #tw blood #tw car crash

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ravens-words · 2 years

Note

💓 Send me a ship + a sentence and I’ll write the next 5 (or more) sentences. (All Ships in 911, LS, RNM)

Tarlos-

TK looked at Carlos like he was seeing him for the first time, and maybe in some ways he was.

Thank you, T 💛

TK looked at Carlos like he was seeing him for the first time, and maybe in some ways he was. He stood in the doorway of their little girl's room, leaning against the door jamb, and simply watched as his husband held her, a hand rubbing her back gently as he spoke to her in a quiet murmur. There was something so soft, but also fierce and protective about this Carlos- like he was ready to fight anything for her, even the nightmares.

He stepped inside, quiet enough to not startle their dozing daughter, and wrapped his arms around his husband from behind. He pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades, then one on the warm skin of his neck, making him shiver. "Hey," he whispered into his skin.

Carlos leaned into his arms slightly, and TK gladly took the weight. "Hi," he muttered, "what are you doing up?"

TK shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Bed's cold without you."

He laughed, and TK felt it against his chest. "I see how it is, you just want me to keep you warm."

"Mhmm," he hummed, pulling back, then taking one of his hands, "she's asleep. Come back to bed."

Carlos nodded, and somewhat reluctantly put their daughter back in her crib. He stepped back and into TK's waiting arms. They kissed for a few seconds, languid and unhurried, before TK tugged him back using his grip on his waist. "Bed," he repeated.

Carlos grinned, and leaned down to kiss him again.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #ejwritestarlos #ej's600celebration #hope you enjoy this!

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gra-sonas · 2 years

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I keep seeing speculation about Flint or Wyatt being the adversary with the Rosa part of the press release for 4x09, but I think it might be Heath? Wasn't the actor who plays Heath back on set for filming 4x09? I thought I would ask you because you usually have all the bts info.

Flint would be a (great) surprise tbh. Kiowa did film Dark Winds in Santa Fe, but he's one of the two leads, no idea if he would've had time to head over to the RNM set for an episode.

Heath (i.e. Steven Krueger) was in Santa Fe around the time they were filming 4x09 (so he'll probably be in the episode), I'm not quite sure in what way he'd be considered a "former adversary" tho.

Dylan didn't post anything about being in Santa Fe, but o/c he could've been there without announcing it on social media, and Wyatt would certainly best fit the role of "former adversary", esp. in connection to Rosa, and her keeping her friendship with him a secret).

Shiri Appleby will also be in 4x09, we don't know her character yet tho, so, I don't see how her character would be the adversary.

As always, we'll have to wait (BOOOO) and see who it'll be, and what the secret is.

#rnm 4x09 #rnm spoilers #rnm speculation #nonnie asks

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jule1122 · 1 year

Text

I posted 305 times in 2022

53 posts created (17%)

252 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@alexguerinss

@tasyfa

@angrycowboy

@infp-obsessing-over-everything

@mander3-swish

I tagged 257 of my posts in 2022

Only 16% of my posts had no tags

#malex fic - 47 posts

#malex gifset - 42 posts

#my fic - 38 posts

#fic meme answers - 15 posts

#comments are love - 12 posts

#rnm fic - 11 posts

#rnm 4x13 spoilers - 11 posts

#malex - 10 posts

#thank you! - 9 posts

#signal boost - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#i never thought about how alex and michael both tried to move on to someone ultimately connected to what they wanted to escape

My Top Posts in 2022:

Malex Fic - Kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight

Writer’s block is still my best friend, but Malex are engaged! And if that doesn’t inspire me at least a little bit, all hope is lost. I went back to my Malex comfort zone for this, plotless fluff where Michael and Alex are in bed, but they have emotional conversations instead of sex.

This is canon compliant through 4x11 and takes place some point after where all plot points have already been magically resolved.

Kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight on AO3

Summary: They are back in their home, Alex isn't dying, but one thing hasn't changes. All Alex wants to do is marry Michael.

Title taken from the Barenaked Ladies version of “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

Alex wakes up the same way he has every day for the last week, to Michael next to him, watching him like he can’t believe he’s real. His eyes light up when he realizes Alex is awake, and Alex doesn’t think, just leans up for a kiss.

It’s not much of a kiss, just a gentle press of lips, but Alex keeps his eyes open, watching as Michael’s close when he feels Alex’s hand stroking his hair.

“Morning,” Michael mumbles against his mouth when they break the kiss.

Alex rolls onto his back to stretch and notices the coffee mug on his nightstand, the coffee no longer steaming. He frowns when he turns back to Michael, “How long have you been up?” He used to wake up before Michael every morning, but not now, not since they came back.

“Not long,” Michael shrugs.

Alex’s frown deepens as he realizes there is a pattern he missed. “You’re awake when I fall asleep at night and awake before me in the morning. You need to sleep, too.”

“I never look away, remember.”

“That’s not supposed to be literal,” Alex wrinkles his nose. He can see the lingering fear in Michael’s eyes, and he hesitates before continuing. “You don’t have to keep watch. I’m not going to disappear again.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alex takes Michael’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently before answering. “Since you haven’t let me leave the house, and I am pretty sure there is no alien sinkhole to an alternate dimension in our bathroom, I think you can relax.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Michael counters. He gives Alex a real smile, though, before lifting their joined hands and kissing Alex’s knuckles.

Alex doesn’t disagree. Being separated from Michael, being thrust alone into a world he didn’t understand isn’t an experience he never plans to repeat. Staying with Michael, in their house where they could focus on each other, has been the best way for them to heal.

There are things going on outside of this bubble they’ve created that Alex is distantly aware of. Some follower of Jones Isobel is heping, Liz is trying to minimize the fallout from her mentor’s breakdown, there are parts of Jones plan they are still trying to discover. But Alex doesn’t care. Right now, he’s content to be selfish, to ignore the part of him that was bred to put duty first. He and Michael deserve time to do nothing but love each other at least until after the honeymoon. Which reminds Alex, they do have one important reason to engage with the outside world.

“We are going to have to leave the house for at least a little bit today. If we don’t go to the courthouse today and get our marriage license, we won’t have it in time for the wedding,” Alex reminds Michael.

Michael drops Alex’s hand, some of the light leaving his eyes. “We don’t have to do that right now.”

“What? Get married?” Alex asks with a frown.

When Michael nods, Alex pushes himself into a sitting position and runs his hands through his hair. He’s about to ask Michael if he’s changed his mind, if he doesn’t want to marry Alex, but he knows in his heart that’s the wrong question.

“Do you think I only asked you to marry me because I was dying?” Alex asks instead.

Michael doesn’t answer but the way he averts his eyes tells Alex everything he needs to know.

“Michael,” Alex sighs. He pulls on Michael’s hand until Michael moves to sit next to him. “Figuring out I was dying didn’t make me want to marry you, but it did give me the courage to ask you. I wasn’t afraid of dying.”

Michael makes a distressed sound at that, and Alex knows despite both Liz and Kyle assuring them that he is perfectly healthy, that wound isn’t going to heal any time soon. He rests his head on Michael’s shoulder, lets Michael hold him close, but it starts to feel too much like the pocket dimension, and Alex wants this proposal to feel different. He shifts them both around until he’s leaning against the headboard with Michael across from him, their knees touching.

“Hey,” he starts, waiting until Michael looks at him again to talk. “I wasn’t afraid to die, but I was afraid to die without you knowing how much I love you.”

“I know you love me, Alex. You don’t need to prove that to me,” Michael protests.

“That’s not what it’s about,” Alex shakes his head. “I told Maria once that falling in love with you was the easiest thing in the world, but I’ve never told you that. I’ve never shown you that. We grow up on fairy tales - true love’s kiss and happily ever afters. When I realized I was gay, I thought I could never have any of that, But then you kissed me in that museum, under a fake alien sky, and all of that became real. You were everything I never let myself hope for, and that love, that feeling of belonging, has never gone away.”

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41 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

Malex NYE Ficlet

Tiny little fic written in response to a discussion on the literal skeletons discord server about Alex and Michael having their first New Year’s Eve together.

Isobel moves her New Year's Eve party to the Wild Pony because Maria can't afford to be short staffed on one of her busiest nights of the year. Alex and Michael leave at 11 despite Liz's protest. They enjoy celebrating with their family, but they set aside part of the night for just two of them.

Midnight finds them kissing on the couch, drinks forgotten on the coffee table. Alex's hands are tangled in Michael's hair, and Michael absent mindedly stokes Alex's neck as they kiss.

When the fireworks and gunshots go off, Michael pulls back. He gives Alex one more quick kiss in response to his pout before asking, "Any resolutions?"

Alex thinks a moment before answering, "To keep talking to you, to tell you the things I think you need protected from or I'm afraid will make you turn away from me because secrets only make things worse."

Michael squeezes his hand, "Is that all?"

"To let myself be happy without wondering if I deserve it or worrying about when it will end."

"I like seeing you happy," Michael says quietly, leaning in for another soft kiss.

"What about you?" Alex asks.

"To ask questions and listen to the answers instead of assuming I know how you feel or what you are thinking. To enjoy being with you without waiting for something to take you away again, to trust that you are here to stay."

Alex blinks back tears, "I like seeing you happy," he repeats because he can't find better words right now. He takes a breath and adds just a little more, " I want to be there to see you happy, to help make you happy."

"Damn, I love you," Michael laughs through the tightness in his throat.

"I love you, too," Alex starts to pull Michael in for another kiss, but Michael holds up his hand.

"One more," he says.

Alex raises one eyebrow and waits for Michael to continue.

"I'm going to convince you to get a dog."

"Only if you move in with me," Alex counters with a smile.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Michael says before pushing Alex down onto the couch.

52 notes - Posted December 31, 2021

Malex Fic - I want you to move me

The writing part of my brain is still 99% broken, but this song makes my fingers itch. This is really pure fluff with a little talking about smut although no actual smut happens. Just a nice romantic moment between Michael and Alex and Liz and Max’s wedding.

I want you to move me on AO3

Summary: "I want you to move me Step into the moonlight Throw your weight in to me"

Title and Summary are both from “Move me” by half-alive. The mood of this story is all set around the chorus of the song so I recommend listing to it if you can.

Michael twirls Rosa one last time as the music’s ending, smacking a loud kiss onto her cheek. She sticks her tongue out at him, making him laugh as they leave the dance floor. Without even thinking about Michael looks for Alex, eyes seeking him out automatically, and his breath catches when he spots him.

Alex is watching him, looking at him with a mix of love, amusement and a little bit of awe, as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to be loved by Michael. It’s been years - decades if he forgets their time apart and remembers the first time he saw that look on Alex’s face - and Michael still isn’t used to it, hopes he never will be.

He blows Alex a kiss, bouncing on his feet when Alex’s smile widens even as he shakes his head at Michael’s antics. Michael has an urge to just run to Alex and throw himself onto his lap, making him wonder if Max’s joy at finally marrying Liz is bleeding into his own emotions. Hard as it is to believe, Michael’s reached a point where happy is his default state, but everything is a little exaggerated today. He teared up during Max and Liz’s first dance, and cried openly when Max turned Liz over to Arturo for their dance, and Michelle surprised Max at the edge of the dance floor and demanded her own dance. Michael pulled it together for the bridal party dance but only because he knew Rosa wouldn’t tolerate his tears, and with only four of them - Michael and Isobel for Max, Rosa and Kyle for Liz - there was nowhere to hide from the guests that were watching them.

Now that the formal dances are over, people begin streaming toward the dance floor, and getting to Alex starts to feel like swimming upstream. He passes Greg and Maria, and Maria catches his hand, giving it a quick squeeze as she walks by.

When he finally reaches Alex, the music changes to something slow and dreamy so Michael holds out his hand. Alex shakes his head, smiling dimming a little, and Michael wants to kick himself. The wedding had fallen in the midst of a pain flare up for Alex. His leg had been bothering him for no discernible reason - could be a change in the weather, something off with his prosthetic, an awkward movement he didn’t remember - nothing they could pinpoint. He’d stayed off his prosthetic for a few days before the wedding, and keeping pressure off his leg helped, but he was still limping enough Michael knew he’d feel self conscious on the dance floor even if all they were barely moving. Alex wouldn’t care if it was just their family, but the guest list had grown to include people who didn’t know Alex at all or still thought of him as the war hero Alex had never felt like.

Michael’s about to sit next to Alex when he notices the patio doors are open. “Feel like some air?” he asks, nodding toward the exit.

“Sounds good,” Alex’s smile brightens again, and he takes Michael’s hand.

It's a beautiful night, clear and lit by an almost full moon. The temperature dropped with the sun, but it’s still warm enough that they are comfortable with just their suit jackets. The patio opens into a garden who’s path winds out of sight. It’s not crowded, but several other guests are outside, some looking for a place to smoke. Alex wrinkles his nose at the smell, and Michael doesn’t invade any minds, but he sends out a suggestion that it’s a good time to go back inside and soon they are alone.

Alex laughs and raises his brow at Michael, letting him know he doesn’t think their sudden solitude is a coincidence.

Michael just shrugs his shoulders and pulls Alex in for a kiss. He feels more settled, comfortable in his own emotions now that he’s not in the same room with Max. Still happy and head over heels in love with Alex, but no more than he always is. “Come on,” he says when they break apart, taking Alex’s hand and leading him down the steps.

When they reach the garden, Michael heads toward one of the benches lining the border, but Alex shakes his head. “Feels good to walk after sitting for so long.”

So Michael redirects them to the path, careful to let Alex set the pace. His limp doesn’t seem any worse, but his back is still stiff and tense, and Michael aches with the need to take Alex’s pain away. He can’t, there’s nothing he can do - even with his powers, God knows he’s tried, sometimes hurting Alex more in the process - so he settles for letting go of Alex’s hand and rubbing his back underneath his jacket as the walk.

Alex relaxes slowly as they walk, eventually wrapping his arm around Michael’s shoulder. Michael leans into him and looks around. The garden is dimly lit, enough light to be safe, but not enough to take away from the romantic atmosphere. They’d taken pictures earlier, under blue skies with colorful flowers contrasting perfectly with Liz’s white dress and Max’s dark suit. Liz’s hair and dress tangled in the wind and Max kept trying to fix it, both of them laughing and smiling too much to bother with poses. Now it’s starlight, filled with white, night blooming flowers, and with Alex in his arms, Michael thinks he prefers it this way, “It’s pretty here,” he tells Alex..

“Mmm,” Alex agrees. “Isobel did a great job. The whole day has been perfect.”

“You want all this,” he asks, gesturing not just at the garden, but the party behind them, “when we get married?” Neither of them have proposed, there is no official engagement, but they’ve started talking this way - when we get married, when we move into a bigger house, when we start a family - their love and future together cemented as certain in their minds.

Alex pauses in their walk for a moment, thinking about it before he resumes their pace. “I want what you want,” he finally says with a shrug.

“Alex,” Michael says exasperated because they’ve talked about this, too much really. Michael needs to know what Alex wants, needs, not just what he thinks he’s allowed to have.

“No, I mean it,” Alex insists. “Once I realized no matter how perfect it sounded, I was never going to want to marry Maria, I stopped thinking about all of it. Weddings, happily ever afters, those were things I was never going to have. But you, Michael,” he turns so they’re facing each other and takes both Michael’s hands. And the look is back on his face again, the one that never lets Michael forget how much Alex loves him. “But even with all the shit life threw at you, you never stopped, dreaming or wanting. Even when I,” Alex lets out a shaky exhale, rests his forehead against Michael’s before continuing, “when I couldn’t believe, you still did. So, yeah, Michael, anything you want.”

“Not all this,” Michael says. Liz and Max’s wedding has been beautiful, everything going perfectly, but if Max’s second emotions almost overwhelmed him, a day like this with Alex might kill him. “More than just us, something nice with just our families I think.”

“You realize ‘just’ our families has turned into a lot of people,” Alex teases him.

Alex is right, and Michael never thought that would happen. He and Alex had both been so alone for years, rejected and forced to hide parts of themselves. But somehow they had this sprawling web of relationships, of people who knew and loved them, some bound by blood, but all by choice. “More people to delegate to,” he says with a smile. “So all we have to do is show up and look pretty.”

“Ok,” Alex agrees easily. “Soon.”

“Soon,” Michael echoes before sighing deeply.

“What?” Alex asks, concern edging into his voice.

Michael closes the small distance between them, waits until Alex wraps his arms around him before resting against his chest. “All I want to do is take you home, get you out of the suit and take care of you.”

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56 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

Malex Fic - All I Want is You

How much fluff can I shove into 1100 words? The answer is a lot. I am over the moon about Alex Guerin being canon, and wanted to write something about that. Michael also has a lot of feelings about being married so this fic is nothing but them continuing to be madly in love.

All I Want is You on AO3

Title from U2's "All I Want is You" because that song fits their marriage perfectly.

Summary: When they get back from their honeymoon, Michael has a husband and Alex has a new name. Neither of those things will ever change.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” Michael yells as he opens the door.

“In here,” Alex answers back.

Michael follows the sound of his voice and finds his husband at the table, laptop open, working his way through a stack of papers.

“I thought you weren’t back at Deep Sky until Monday?” Michael asks with a slight frown. They returned from their honeymoon a few days ago, but both had cleared their schedules for the rest of the week. Michael had spent the afternoon catching up with Isobel, but otherwise neither of them had left the house.

“Oh, this isn’t work,” Alex reassures him. He gestures to the papers next to the computer, “Just getting started on the name change. I’ve got Social Security, VA, MVD, the bank, the mortgage company, utilities, passport. Once that’s all done I can update my will and other legal documents.”

Just listening to Alex list all the forms overwhelms Michael. “Can’t you just hack into something and have it all done at once? Or get someone at Deep Sky to handle it?”

“I could,” Alex says with a laugh and a shrug, “but I want to do it this way.”

“Why?” Michael asks as he sits in the chair next to Alex.

“I don’t want it to just happen. I want someone to read this form and know my name is changing because I want it to, that this is a choice. I want them to look at our marriage license and think ‘he must really love his husband a lot if he wants to share his name.’ I want everyone who has to change my name to know how lucky I am.”

Michael leans back in his chair and lets out a breath. Sometimes he still can’t believe all this is real, then Alex says something like that, and it hits him all over again. He’s quiet long enough that Alex starts to look uncomfortable.

“I know it doesn’t really matter,” he starts.

“No,” Michael takes his hand, rubbing his thumb along Alex’s ring. “I get it.” And he does. It’s the same reason he can’t stop calling Alex his husband. He’s said it so much, Isobel had hung up on him twice. But he can’t imagine not saying it, not telling every person he talks to that he has a husband, not taking every chance he can to remember that they finally got here. If Alex needs fifty bureaucrats to look at their marriage license, Michael will help him stuff the envelopes.

“Maybe you should send a picture too,” he teases. “Make sure they know exactly how lucky we both are.”

“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Alex squeezes his hand before pulling away and picking up his pen.

Michael gets up and stands behind him, watching as he finishes the form to update his driver’s license. He sets it aside and reaches for another stack of papers, but Michael can’t stop staring at “Alexander Manes” written in Alex’s neat, block handwriting. He looks at the bottom of the page, and Alex’s new signature. There’s a scrawled “A” followed by a scribble that leads into a large, fancy printed “G.” The rest of “Guerin” is written in a slanted hybrid of cursive and print, each letter easy to recognize. Michael traces it with his eyes and wonders what it will look like in a year, five years then fifty. He wonders when it will be second nature for Alex to sign with “Guerin,” when he won’t have to think about it.

“Hey, can you grab the stapler for me?” Alex asks without looking up from where he’s adding a copy of their marriage license to the MVD form.

“Sure,” Michael clears his throat and heads to Alex’s desk. As he walks away, he sees Alex turn to look at him, a soft smile on his face. He looks back because he’ll always look back to Alex. It’s hard to believe there was a time he looked at Alex and saw nothing but pain and regret for the life they didn’t have. Now he looks at Alex and sees forever stretching out in front of them.

When he brings back the stapler, Alex takes it with a distracted, “Thanks, babe.”

Michael kisses the top of his head and goes to start dinner, leaving Alex to finish his stack of paperwork. He sneaks glances at Alex as he cooks, smiling at his complete concentration at the task in front of him. He probably won’t even notice Michael’s started dinner until Michael puts a plate in front of him.

But Alex surprises him by coming into the kitchen just as Michael turns the heat on the sauce down to simmer.

“Smells good,” Alex compliments him as he passes Michael on the way to the cupboard. “Paperwork’s all done so I’ll set the table while you finish up.”

When Alex reaches up to get the plates, Michael wraps his arms around his waist. “No hurry,” he stops Alex before he opens the cabinet door. “We have time.”

“Oh, do we?” Alex turns in his arms, smiling into Michael’s kiss.

“Mhmm,” Michael confirms, without breaking the kiss. He presses Alex up against the counter, kisses him soft and slow because they do have time.

He can’t help but wonder if it will always feel like this, like there’s nothing in the world but this. Maybe one day his breath won’t catch when he sees the wedding pictures Isobel framed and placed on their mantel and dresser while they were on their honeymoon. Maybe one day he won’t find Alex staring at the shadow box Maria made them, filled with the boutonnieres, his mother’s handkerchief, Mimi’s bracelet and the original wedding invitation Rosa drew for them.

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61 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Malex Fic - I’m a happy idiot

Trying to write my way out of a slump with some secret marriage fluff. No warnings just lots of love.

I’m a happy idiot on AO3

Summary: 4 times Michael and Alex almost told someone they were married and 2 times they didn't have to.

Title from "Happy Idiot" by TV on the Radio

Michael’s half asleep, boneless and fucked out when he feels Alex’s lips on his forehead.

“See you later, love you,” Alex whispers into his hair.

It’s the smell of coffee that gets him to open his eyes. Michael turns his head and watches Alex set a mug on his nightstand, steam curling in the cool air of their bedroom. He reaches out and barely catches Alex’s hand, their fingertips tucking into each other. “I love you, you should marry me,” he says, thinking about how he wants mornings like this for the rest of his life.

Alex’s eyes widen for a moment, but he steps closer to the bed and smiles. “Ok,” he says as if it’s that easy.

But that’s the thing. It is that easy, has been that easy since Michael kissed him on an empty patio. So he doesn’t ask Alex if he’s sure, just sits up and pulls Alex down on the bed next to him, the adrenaline from the realization that he’s going to marry Alex waking him up. “Call off work while I shower. The courthouse opens,” he squints at the clock, “in an hour.”

“You want to get married today?” Alex asks, laughing.

“Can you think of a reason to wait?” Michael counters. They never really talked about marriage. Michael assumed they would get there eventually, but now that it’s a possibility, Michael’s never wanted anything more.

Alex bites his lip, smile still showing through, and shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so,” Michael pulls him down for a kiss. “Now get moving. The sooner we get married, the sooner we can start our honeymoon.”

Sanders

“I’m guessing by that smile on your face you didn’t call off yesterday because of some alien crisis.”

Michael jumps a foot in the air, hitting his head on the hood of the car he’s working on. “Why do you always do that?” he complains, glaring at Sanders.

“Because it never stops being funny,” Sanders laughs. “You’d think by now you’d have learned to pay attention to your surroundings, makes me wonder just how useful your powers are if a gimpy old man can sneak up on you. Now back to my question. I know you weren’t sick so what was so important I had to tell Ethel Myers her car wasn’t going to be ready for another day?”

“Ethel Myers should have stopped driving five years ago so the extra day was a blessing to everyone on the road,” Michael argues, hoping to distract Sanders.

But Sanders just stands there, arms crossed and foot tapping, waiting for Michael to answer. And shit, he and Alex really should have talked about what they were going to tell people, but they’d been too busy celebrating.

“Alex and I had, uh, stuff to take care of,” he finally mumbles.

“Stuff?” Sanders repeats with a disbelieving snort.

“Yeah, you know, house stuff,” Michael makes a vague gesture with his hands.

“You’d think after a few years your ‘house stuff’ would stop interfering with your work,” Sanders rolls his eyes. “But I guess that explains the limp.”

“Oh my god!” Michael feels his face heat up. “That’s not what I meant!” But before he can come up with a better explanation. Sanders walks away, shaking his head.

Eduardo

When Alex gets to work, he finds a note on his desk asking him to report to the director’s office.

He knocks lightly on Eduardo’s open door. “You wanted to see me?” he asks when Eduardo waves him inside.

“Yes, come sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. “I’m glad you are feeling better.”

“Thank you, it was just one of those twenty-four hour bugs,” Alex shrugs, holding Eduardo’s eyes so he doesn’t appear evasive.

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87 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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