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manesalex · 2 years

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if you take fic requests i was wondering if you could do malex fic that involves the long hot shower either before or after everything happens

Thank you for the request, Nonnie!

Warnings for ridiculously romantic smut. Also available on ao3.

***

Alex has just finished washing and rinsing his hair when he hears the bathroom door open.

“Mind if I join you? Conserve some water?” Michael asks, tone flirtatious, expression heated. He’s not wearing a stitch of clothing and Alex can’t help but blush as his eyes wander over every inch of bare skin.

Alex wants to say yes, wants Michael to take him apart yet again, but instead he says, “I don’t want to be late.” He’s a new member of Michael’s family, officially, anyway, and he doesn’t want to make a bad impression. Especially when it’s a pre-honeymoon going away party that Isobel planned for him and Michael.

“Pretty sure Isobel expects us to be late,” Michael replies easily. “Knowing her, she’s counting on it.” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “But, if it’s that important to you, we can always wait until we get to the hotel tonight.” His grin after he says it is positively evil.

Alex laughs, “As long as you’re sure your family won’t mind, Guerin.”

“Isobel is probably having the same conversation with Kyle right now,” Michael says, with a look of disgust on his face. But then it’s gone and the flirtatious expression is back, “And you’re gonna have to stop calling me that, Alex Guerin.”

Alex’s smile only grows in response to that reminder. He still can’t quite believe it. He’s married to the man he’s loved since he was seventeen years old.

He reaches out with his free hand, the one not holding onto the grab bar, and grabs Michael’s hand, tugging him towards him.

It’s only a moment before Michael’s mouth is on his, hot and insistent and perfect.

Michael presses him against the wall, hands wandering, exploring Alex’s body like he doesn’t already know it by heart, like they haven’t had more than a decade, on and off anyway, of this. And that always amazes Alex, the way Michael touches him, kisses him, like he’ll never be able to get enough of him. Alex feels the same way about Michael. He is so lucky to get to spend the rest of his life with this man.

Alex pulls Michael even closer, wrapping his free arm around him, letting out a moan when one of Michael’s hands skims against one of his nipples.

Michael’s lips leave his mouth, moving along his jaw, towards his neck and it’s all Alex can do to keep his balance and keep ahold of the grab bar. Michael’s hands are hot and just on the right side of rough when he touches him. And then suddenly Michael is guiding him to turn, to face the front of the shower, away from Michael.

He can hear the popping sound of the lid of a bottle and then Michael asks, “This okay?” Michael’s fingers just brush Alex’s hole, waiting for permission. Alex almost wants to laugh because Michael fucked him senseless just last night, but he’s also overwhelmed with his love for this man. This man who cares to check in with him, even when he knows what the answer is going to be. This man who fought for him even when it seemed hopeless, who wouldn’t give up on this future they both dreamed of. Alex is well aware of how lucky he is to have this, to finally be Michael’s husband.

“Please,” Alex replies, his voice rough. He can feel Michael’s lips against the back of his neck, the way they shape into a grin before he slides one lube-coated finger in slowly, carefully.

Alex presses back against his hand, trying to take more, faster. And he can hear Michael’s low, rough laugh, but he gives Alex what he wants, sliding his finger out before pressing it back in, joined by a second.

Michael teases him for a moment, brushing his fingers against Alex’s prostate. And Alex’s leg shakes with the effort of holding still, holding him up, but then he can feel something holding him in place. Michael’s powers, helping him keep his balance.

“Ready?” Michael asks moments later.

Alex just nods, letting out a little whine when Michael’s fingers leave him. But then there’s the pressure of Michael’s dick, that familiar, wonderful feeling of Michael pressing into him, bit by bit, until he feels like he’s both filled by and surrounded by Michael.

Alex rests his head next to his left hand, pressed against the wall in front of him, the cool tile a perfect contrast to the heat of Michael moving behind him, moving in him.

Michael’s left hand reaches for his and Alex can’t help but stare at the ring on Michael’s finger, a reminder of the vows they made to each other, the promise Michael made to him. The fact that, even after every awful thing they’ve been through, every way they’ve hurt each other, they’re here. They’re going to have this for the rest of their lives.

Michael’s fingers tangle with his, lifting and guiding his hand toward Alex’s cock, the both of their hands wrapping around his length, Michael setting the pace, matching it to the pace of his hips, hitting Alex’s prostate with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” Michael’s voice sounds awed. Alex wants to argue, wants to say that, no, Michael is, but he’s too overwhelmed by Michael’s touch to speak, to do more than let out needy little moans and whimpers.

And then he’s coming and Michael is holding him through it, both with his arms and his powers, keeping his leg from giving out under him, keeping him safe. Moments later, Michael is joining him, mouth pressed against Alex’s shoulder, muffling a shout.

Afterwards, Michael helps guide him back to his shower chair. They both help each other get clean, hands wandering, not needing an excuse to touch each other the way they want. They interrupt each other over and over again with gentle, joyful kisses, neither one of them able to stop grinning at each other, even laughing with joy at times, only stopping to get out of the shower and dry off when the water runs cold.

#roswell fic #malex fic #roswell new mexico fic #malex #roswell new mexico #michael guerin #i love (1) actual disaster #alex manes #actual cinnamon roll #protect him at all costs #michael x alex #otp: home can be a person #malex fanfiction

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pendragonsandbuckleys · 1 year

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rest in peace (and give yourself to harmony)

Summary: Alex had been gone for days with no contact. Complete radio silence.

And Michael hadn’t been worried. Of course not. No, he definitely hadn’t been spiralling out, staring at his phone like a lovesick teenager begging it to ring.

Only, when it had rung — when the wrong Manes man had flashed up on the screen — his heart had sunk.

Major Character Death. Based on Jeanine Mason’s season 3 Malex pic.

Word Count: 1,903

[Also on AO3]

Michael’s footsteps echoed down the empty corridor.

The late hour could easily have been blamed for the lack of personnel around, but the Air Force never slept. Alex had taught him that much. The late-night calls, the too-early mornings. He’d practically begged Alex to swap his job to one that more closely matched Michael’s sleep schedule.

As if that was the real reason he had wanted him out of the military life.

The harsh white lights flickered overhead as they paved his way and he almost wished one of the many doors he passed would suddenly swing open to reveal an angry sergeant or maybe a swarm of new recruits who could see clearly through his pitiful charade. Just someone eager to drag the imposter off their highly classified base.

Anything to delay what he had come all this way for.

It felt wrong, donning the uniform again, the camo doing little to disguise how out of place he felt in a building full of soldiers. The bold-lettered Reese was still stitched into his name badge—a character he was having to play, yet again, if they wanted their jailbreak to work.

And there was no reason to believe it wouldn’t, the circumstances were virtually indistinguishable if you squinted hard enough.

It had almost been a game last time. He and Isobel playing dress up as they joined Alex in their carefully constructed three-man performance. With no lines to rehearse, his presence alone had been enough to fool the poor women on the hospital’s reception desk into releasing a comatose Maria into their care.

Comatose, not—

As he turned the corner—head peering around first to check for any unwanted company—he spotted it. The room that the lieutenant at the front gate had directed him to after Isobel had successfully mindscaped her unsuspecting brain.

The door was heavier than he expected and the click it made as it shut behind him was barely audible over the rush of blood in his ears. The familiar, unwelcome ache crept back into his chest and he rubbed his knuckles roughly down his sternum, the action so forceful he was practically tracing the ridges of his ribs.

It wouldn’t work though. It wouldn’t make it disappear. The pain that had been clawing at his insides since the phone call.

He looked down at the hand still white knuckling the door handle. Maybe if he stayed holding on, he wouldn’t have to turn around. In fact, maybe he could just walk straight back through the door and declare it all one huge mistake.

Maybe Greg had gotten it all wrong.

The whole mission had been as shady and secretive as usual, Alex being called away at short notice with practically no details provided. And though he could never normally reveal the specifics of his work, this time it had felt different.

He had been gone for days with no contact. Complete radio silence.

And Michael hadn’t been worried. Of course not. No, he definitely hadn’t been spiralling out, staring at his phone like a lovesick teenager begging it to ring.

Only, when it had rung — when the wrong Manes man had flashed up on the screen — his heart had sunk.

There hadn’t been any real reason for his hand to shake as he answered the call. They might not be on casual texting terms, but it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for Alex’s brother to get in contact. Greg was just as involved in the alien situation as the rest of his friends and with his unfortunate upbringing he probably knew more than he had ever really wanted to begin with.

But part of him, the always on alert when it comes to Alex part of him knew he was going to regret praying for the phone to ring.

When silence had greeted him at first. When faint sniffles could be heard down the line instead of anything remotely useful.

When Greg had finally found the words to tell him that—

It should probably have worried him how easily the time had blurred between the phone slipping through his fingers and his friends gathering in their living room to formulate a plan.

As Alex’s emergency contact, Greg had been the first to receive the news. And with the added bonus of being an ex-service member, it had also meant he was the most likely to cut through the bureaucratic red tape that neatly tied up the Air Force’s secrets and track down his brother’s location. From then it had taken twenty-four hours, a trip to the Project Shepard bunker, several desperate phone calls and a mindscape from Isobel to get Michael into the room he currently stood in.

Now all he had to do was turn around.

His fingers loosened their grip around the handle before he could talk himself out of it and slowly, he turned away from where he was facing the door. He barely made it all the way around as the sight in his periphery was enough for a whimper of despair to be drawn from his lips.

His hand clutched his stomach as any semblance of breath was knocked from him in an instant, a wave of grief so powerful striking him square in the chest. His shoulders hunched as his body forced itself forward, any strength he had left sucked straight from him, his other hand grasping at his knee the only thing keeping him upright.

It was a clinical room. A makeshift morgue of sorts with its science equipment and pale walls devoid of all life. There were three tables spaced out evenly along the centre of the room, two of them empty but the third—

The third held the body of Captain Alexander Manes of the United States Air Force, still proudly dressed in a uniform that mirrored Michael’s own, face pale as he lay silently and so, so still, so—

Dead.

Michael let out a slow breath through pursed lips as he mustered up the strength to move closer. The sight alone made him lightheaded, like his brain refused to register what was right in front of him. One final attempt at denying reality.

But his heart knew the truth, drawing him closer as it loathed to be apart from its other half for a second longer. Even if its counterpart had long stopped beating.

Raking his eyes over Alex’s body, he took in every inch of him as if seeing him for the first time. The way the soft hair that Michael loved to run his fingers through rested against the table, leftover gel still clinging to some of the strands, the way his long lashes fanned out over closed eyelids, the way his hands lay unmoving by his side.

There was no sign of injury— no sign of anything to explain how the love of his life had ended up cold and lifeless and alone in a top-secret Air Force base. Greg had been unsuccessful at pulling any more information from those that knew the truth, their only response being that the nature of the death would delay the release of his body. And seeing him now was enough to prove to Michael what they had all suspected, that something suspicious, something alien, had occurred and Alex had paid the ultimate price.

No bruises marring his skin, no blood staining his uniform, it was almost enough for Michael to fool himself into believing that he was simply sleeping. That Michael could kiss him awake and everything would be okay.

And in a way that was worse.

Because his heart did know the truth and he could feel it splintering within his rib cage, its shards piercing his insides with every breath.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. And it wasn’t fair.

After all the wasted years, the long unnecessary dance of denial between them, they had finally gained the courage to admit what they had both known all along. The courage to open up their hearts to each other. To allow themselves to be happy.

And without warning, that had been snatched from their grasp. Because of the Air Force, again.

Four days ago, Alex had kissed him goodbye with a promise to be back soon. And now here he was, lying in front of him, there but not there.

A stifled sob pushed past the lump in his throat and the world blurred around him as the tears pooling in his eyes threatened to spill over. Ever since the damn phone call, a tiny desperate part of him had stayed in denial, locking a sliver of hope away in his heart as he begged the universe to have made a terrible mistake. But there was no denying this.

Taking a shaky breath, he bent down closer to Alex. Hands cupping either side of his head, thumbs hovering just over his ears, Michael’s eyes squeezed shut as he placed a gentle kiss atop Alex’s forehead. The action was so familiar yet so hauntingly far away from normal, the cold skin beneath his lips solidifying the truth.

The sudden opening of the door broke through the silence of the room and had him jumping back with a gasp. The sight of the intruder enough to calm his racing heart, his hand came up to thumb away the few tears that had escaped.

“Hey, are you ready to—” Isobel started before the remainder of the sentence caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as if she’d forgotten what awaited her in that room.

She swallowed hard as she approached, her eyes not straying from Alex even as she gathered her brother into a hug, her arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. He relished the warmth of her touch and the contact was enough to bring everything crashing down. The tears ran freely and without restraint as he wept into the collar of her uniform, his shoulders shuddering with each sharp inhale and in that moment, he couldn’t focus on anything but the agony that was hell-bent on consuming him alive.

To her credit, Isobel didn’t say a word, her palm rubbing a soothing up-and-down motion into his spine until he was ready to pull away. Even then, she didn’t let him move far, her hands gently cupping his face.

“He’s gonna be okay.” She whispered reassuringly and the conviction in her voice was almost enough to have him believing it. Their plan was half-baked at best and they had zero proof that it was going to work, but their alternative was—

Well, the alternative was that Alex stayed as he was and that wasn’t an option.

It was going to work. And he was going to be okay. And they really needed to leave before someone caught them.

Michael moved to the cupboards at the back of the room and rummaged through until he found what he was searching for. The white sheet fit perfectly as he placed it gently over Alex’s body and he swallowed down the sickness that settled in his stomach at the sight of his boyfriend’s outline under the material.

He kicked up the lock keeping the table’s wheels in place, and the pair set off before they could be stopped. Back through the secret military base, back to their car sitting just outside the compound and back to the waiting team of self-appointed alien scientists ready to bring Alex Manes back to life.

#roswell new mexico #malex fic #roswell new mexico fic #my fic

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alex-guerin · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Alex Manes & Rosa Ortecho Characters: Alex Manes, Rosa Ortecho Additional Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Alex Manes, POV Alex Manes, Alex Manes Needs a Hug Series: Part 4 of I Just Want You to Stay Summary:

Alex was left alone with his thoughts for too long again. All he really wants is to curl up with Michael and cry for a while. Instead, he gets some much needed support and comfort from an unexpected source.

#Malex #Alex Manes #Michael Guerin #Rosa Ortecho #Roswell New Mexico Fic

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orchardsinsnow · 2 years

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Untitled Malex procreation WIP:

Alex sighs and closes his laptop after reciting a long paragraph about legalities and other factors couples often consider when deciding which partner will contribute sperm. There is no manual on the use of, as Isobel puts it, alien baby gravy. It’s safest, privacy-wise, to leave Michael and his unique physiology out of the equation, and something about that will always break Alex’s heart a little bit.

Michael looks over from where he’s bent double inside the ice machine and gives him a wink of encouragement, showing he’s been paying attention. This won’t be easy, but they’ve done hard things before.

Bonnie grunts, opening a gallon-size jar of maraschino cherries, and wonders out loud, “If you don’t mind my asking, is there some reason you’re not doing it the traditional way? Where you both contribute?”

This is cause for Michael to put down his tools and stand up straight. Alex looks at him, looks at Bonnie, looks at Michael again. Michael purses his lips and raises his eyebrows. Bonnie looks at Michael, then at him. Her thousand-watt smile dims just a touch. He’s good at schooling his own facial expressions, but not that good.

“Um,” says Michael. “Because we’re two cis dudes?”

“Yes, but—,” she starts. And then: “Oh.”

He feels something shift in his spine then, because it isn’t embarrassed naïveté on her face right now, it’s something else. It’s the expression she gets when she’s not the naïve one. She’s proud and excited.

“You don’t know,” she says.

#am I really writing a malex procreation fic #this is not my forte #roswell new mexico fic #in which Bonnie says #malex forever

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erisgregory · 2 years

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Loaded God Complex, Cock It and Pull It

Co-author: crysty-indie-rp624 Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Relationship: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Michael Guerin, Alex Manes Additional Tags: Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, the boys are 18, Making Out, fooling around on the job, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Roleplay, POV Alternating Summary: Michael begins his summer hiding out on the floor of the ticket booth at the UFO Emporium leaning against Alex’s leg while he works talking about everything and nothing. This particular day he’s restless and that restlessness leads to the best kind of mischief. Author’s Notes: Based on this post by chasingshhadows. Thank you for letting us share and thanks for the inspiration! Set in an alternate timeline where their first time isn’t interrupted by Jesse Manes.

Days like this were quickly becoming Alex’s favorite. He was working at the Alien Emporium; and yes he was wearing the uncomfortable shirt and this stupid visor but now his days were also filled with a beautiful curly-headed boy, someone who seemed to understand him in a way no one ever had. He looked down at where Michael was leaning against the outside wall of the booth, away from any prying outside eyes and he couldn’t help but smile softly.

The only complaint he had was that today was hot and sticky, with very little airflow in this booth. He raised his hand to gently move through Michael’s curls, “What ya working on Guerin?” He asked, feeling the heat radiating off the other male.

The booth was almost stifling today which left Michael feeling restless. He couldn’t concentrate on his college essay or the vague drawing of what he thought was the ship’s console, bits and pieces refusing to line up the way he thought they should. Still, it didn’t seem to matter much. Not when he had near-constant contact with his favorite person, Alex. When he spoke, caressing Michael’s curls in that way that only he managed to make sexy, Michael shuffled his papers and looked up almost feeling guilty. “Nothing much today. I’m too distracted.” He admitted, wetting his lip with the tip of his tongue and shooting Alex a sideways grin.

Read on AO3

#malex #malex fic #malex rp #malex roleplay #eris writes fics #roswell new mexico fic

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lire-casander · 2 years

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omg could I please prompt "passing out from the pain" with Malex (RNM)??? Michael passing out would be cool, but Alex would be cool too! I trust whatever your wonderful heart desires!!!

[seeping in through every crack] [1,653 words] [teen and up audiences] [beta’ed by @alilypea] [michael guerin/alex manes] [michael guerin, alex manes, original male characters] [title from hurricane by parachute] [angst, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, kidnapping, mentions of torture, mentions of passing out] [written for anon who asked for passing out from the pain from my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card]

[they have been trapped in these cells for longer than michael can recount]

seeping through every crack | on ao3before in the series

They have been trapped in these cells for longer than Michael can recount. Heʼs lost track of time inside these four walls that were slowly but surely closing in on him. There’s a darkness surrounding him that prevents him from knowing what is happening around him — he canʼt even see his own hands when he lifts them up in front of his face. He knows where they are, but he canʼt see them.

It's unnerving.

From somewhere outside his cell, he can hear Alex’s ragged breathing. That's what he hates the most about being locked up in complete darkness — his other senses are heightened, and he can hear everything around him. He can feel the prickling on his skin whenever there are footsteps approaching, and he surely can taste the bile rising up his throat whenever the lock on Alex’s cell is rattled, and Alex is taken out — always against his will, always with such a fight that their captors have to reduce him — leaving Michael alone in there, wherever there is.

It’s been a pattern ever since they brought Alex in, soon after Michael first woke up in the darkness. His last memory is wanting to confront a man who had been stalking him, and ever since, his whole world has been dark — except for the scarce moments when their captors open the door and allow some rays of daylight seep through the cracks. Michael doesn’t like those moments, though, because they mean Alex is taken out of his cell across Michael’s, and he’s dragged away to somewhere Michael can’t follow.

Somewhere Michael can’t save Alex from.

“Michael,” comes Alex’s voice in a hurried whisper. “Michael, can you hear me?”

“I can, I hear you,” he replies hastily. He sneaks his way forward until his fingers connect with the bars keeping the cell closed. “Iʼm so sorry, Alex. This is all my fault.”

“It isn’t,” Alex reassures him. “How are you? Have they hurt you?”

Michael shakes his head before realizing Alex can't see him. He gulps, almost choking on thin air, and he speaks aloud, “Iʼm fine, Alex. They haven't touched me. But you—”

“Iʼm good,” Alex cuts him off. “And I will keep being good as long as they don’t land a finger on you. I don't know what they want exactly, but they don’t seem the type to be really alien friendly.” A dry laugh comes out of his lips that has Michael cringing.

“What have they done to you?” he barely manages to whisper before there’s a loud noise coming from somewhere at his left — a door opening.

“Today, weʼre changing up our game a bit,” says a voice that Michael can't recognize. “Light it up.”

Suddenly the room erupts in light, forcing Michael to cover his eyes and blinding him momentarily. He canʼt prevent his cell from being unlocked and two men entering it, shoving him down on his knees and keeping his head lowered. Michael can feel the pinpricks booming on his skin. There’s a prickle in the back of his neck, and his head hurts from the awkward angle they're holding him to.

“Leave him alone!” he hears Alex exclaiming from his cell. Michael shivers against his will — whatever they're going to do to him, they're going to make Alex watch.

Michael can take anything they throw his way, but he won't survive having made Alex go through more pain than he’s already inflicted on him.

“What use would this loser have, if we don't get to have some fun with him?” one of the men jokes, jostling Michael's belt until Michael is squirming under the pressure of having a set of hands touching him. “Now, Captain Manes,” he continues, “maybe you will be keener on giving us what we want.”

Michael realizes several things while heʼs on his knees on the cold floor of a cell somewhere unknown to him.

First, that these men don't know anything about aliens or the powers that they are able to hone.

Second, that it's all about some kind of information Alex has, making this some sort of assault on the military and not some attempt at overthrowing Project Shepherdʼs line of command.

And third, that despite them being all talk Michael is feeling already dizzy from the strength pressed against his neck.

He’s going to need all the extent of his powers to outwin this situation.

“Michael,” Alex says. “Please let him go. He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Well, he happened to be in your car, so now heʼs our problem. If anything,” the taller man chuckles, “itʼs your fault, Captain.”

His words are accompanied by fingers digging into Michael’s skin, and something that feels awfully like a blade pressing to his side.

“I don’t have what you're looking for,” Alex says desperately. “I’ve already told you, you've caught the wrong guy!”

The laugh that reaches Michael's ears is a wretched sound that cuts deep inside of him.

“Well, then I guess we at least get to have fun with this one, Captain,” one of the men points out. “Maybe it will jostle your memory or even put some of the knowledge you say you don't have in your brain.”

“That didn't make any sense,” Michael hisses. That earns him a blow below his right ear that makes his head hang down at an even more awkward angle.

“It seems that we have two smartass sons of a bitch.”

Michael thinks that their only chance at leaving — mostly — unscathed is that he manages to free his powers somehow and get them out, but he can’t do that without having had a look at whatever weapons their captors are holding or even getting a grip on their surroundings. Having spent the past days — maybe even weeks — in almost complete darkness hasn’t helped his case here; he needs visuals in his mind of the things he’s tossing around in the air, and he has none.

He also doesn’t have the slightest cue as to how to make them turn him around without making the situation worse.

The pain he’s feeling from the angle his head is being held is starting to extend to the rest of his body. Michael knows that soon his limbs will slowly become numb, and then it will be very difficult for him to help Alex escape. He needs to think of a course of action right now if he wants them to have a chance.

Michael’s eyes focus on the lock of the cell he’s been staying in. He can see it in plain light, gnawed and corroded. It’s small enough that he can move it without much effort, now that his head is starting to feel like exploding, but big enough that it moving would take their captors’ attention away from him long enough. He concentrates, his mind set on shaking the lock and creating enough havoc.

The lock rattles and startles the men. The one holding Michael in place loosens his grip a bit, and that’s enough for Michael to seize the opportunity. Without heeding his pain — a blooming and sharp ache sneaking up from his neck to the upper part of his head — Michael rolls on the floor. Their captors try — and fail — to catch him as he sneaks out of their grasp. He kicks out his legs for good measure, thinking that if he manages to hit some of their captors then it would be worth it, and then he focuses on their heads, smashing them together. When they’re collapsed on the floor, he crawls towards Alex’s cell among the wails of the men.

“Alex!” he hisses, trying to stand up when he reaches his destination. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Michael, you’re bleeding!” There’s a panicked tint in Alex as he speaks, but Michael’s too busy trying to get up. He doesn’t even register Alex’s words.

“Let’s go!” he repeats, this time weaker, barely above a whisper. He’s feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

But Alex doesn’t move in the direction Michael is expecting him to. Instead, Alex steps around Michael as though he is an obstacle, and he promptly leans down to grab one of the weapons their captors have let fall onto the ground. Alex kicks the rest of the weapons away for good measure, and he jabs his foot against the men’s sides while they’re still down on the floor, making sure they won’t be a threat. Only when he checks that they’re unconscious does Alex turn around to Michael briefly.

“That was sexy,” Michael smirks, his grin met with a frown.

“You’re bleeding,” Alex states.

“No, I’m not,” Michael replies petulantly, one hand lifted to his head as if to prove his point. When he places it in front of his eyes he finds his fingers covered in blood. “I don’t know how—”

“They’ve hit your head,” Alex explains. “You shouldn’t be moving. You could be concussed.”

“And there could be more of those,” Michael insists gesturing toward the men. “Let’s go! Unless you’re sore, are you sore? I can lift you, but we need to get out—” His gaze wavers, and Michael feels again that surge of dizziness that this time comes along with a new whiplash of pain that has him doubled over himself. “I—I may need a moment.”

“Michael,” Alex’s words sound alarmed, but also so, so far away. Michael is beginning to think that maybe he’s in some sort of nightmare because suddenly he feels he’s underwater. “Michael!”

The last thing he listens is Alex’s voice surrounding him as he leans against the nearest wall, trying to tame a new wave of pain pulsing through his head. He closes his eyes — just for a moment, he promises himself — and tips over the edge of consciousness.

He never feels his body collapsing against the cold concrete floor, next to the men who had kidnapped them, as Alex screams his name.

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dr-lizortecho · 5 months

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— THAT’S HOME

excerpt from @angrycowboy’s epic all the stars aligned, written for @rnmbigbang

#roswell new mexico #rnm #malex #malexedit #michael guerin #alex manes #rnm fic #fic rec

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pastelwitchling · 29 days

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Malex smut.

***

Michael smiled against the crook of Alex’s neck as his husband writhed beneath him, Michael buried to the hilt inside him.

“M-Michael,” he stammered, breathless and red as Michael squirmed enough that the head of his cock brushed Alex’s prostate, but he didn’t move. He didn’t thrust or pound Alex into the bed, he just stayed buried, brushing Alex’s sweet spot as his husband turned damp beneath him, his back arched, his nails carving into Michael’s biceps.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Michael breathed, nuzzling Alex’s jaw, his chin, his cheek. “Naked and sweaty and mine.”

“Michael –”

“Spread your legs more.”

Alex bit his lower lip, but complied, pushing his legs further apart.

Michael kissed his ear and in a voice like gravel, said, “Good boy.” Alex shivered against him, whimpering as he hugged his shoulders, clinging to him.

Michael couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He couldn’t believe that he alone got to have Alex like this; vulnerable and wanting and pleading.

Squirming again, Michael gave him the barest of thrusts, and Alex gasped, arching his back, eager for whatever Michael would give him.

Michael caught his face in one hand. He bit Alex’s lower lip and tugged, then licked the bite mark. “Who do you belong to?”

Alex looked like he was struggling to breathe. Michael loved it. “You.”

Michael rewarded him with another thrust, long and deeper and harder. “Who do you worship?”

“You.”

Another thrust.

Michael chuckled breathlessly against his jaw, inhaling the smell of his sweat as Alex moaned.

“You feel so good,” Michael huffed, his heart hammering. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”

Alex whimpered. “Please.”

Michael admired Alex’s stubble against his fingers, the flush of Alex’s cheeks, the unshed tears in his eyes as pleasure overtook every single one of his senses. He was safe here, and he knew he was safe here. That was Michael’s favorite part. How vulnerable Alex was only in Michael’s arms because he knew Michael would destroy the world before he let it hurt a hair on Alex’s head.

“Tell me you love me,” Michael huffed against his ear.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Alex breathed, “More than anything.”

Michael’s heart hammered for a completely different reason at the promise in Alex’s voice, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He drew back and thrusted into Alex with a loud slap. It took two more thrusts before they were both coming harder than they had in days.

As they lay panting afterwards, Michael’s body halfway on top of Alex’s as their chests heaved, Alex ran his hands up and down Michael’s back, his eyes shut. “You enjoy torturing me way too much.”

Michael grinned and bit into Alex’s shoulder, making him hiss. “My dick has a price.”

Alex huffed a chuckle, which quickly turned into a laugh. Michael couldn’t look away. Tracing his husband’s jaw, he shook his head. “Your smile is unreal. Have I ever told you that?”

Alex’s laughter faded from his lips, but not from his eyes as he turned to look at Michael’s face. “Once or twice. A week.”

“It’s true.”

Alex poked his ribs. “You’re unreal.”

Michael bit his lower lip, and leaned in, thrusting his hip against Alex’s thigh. His cock was already hardening again, and Alex burst into laughter.

“You really are unreal! Don’t you get tired?”

“Not of you,” Michael said, like it was obvious, already moving to hover over his giggling husband. "Never of you."

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤️

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

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smilingbuckley · 2 months

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Writing patterns / a very late fuck it friday

@tizniz and @diazsdimples tagged me for fuck it friday, but I hadn't posted anything. @diazsdimples also tagged me for writing patterns

I'm also doing my 4 current WIPs soo I'm gonna count it as fuck it friday. Idc that it's Saturday for me.

Rules: post the first line of the last 10 fics you wrote or posted.

Everything is 9-1-1 unless otherwise specified.

* means smut

Chronic pain Buck WIP

Living with chronic pain is unpredictable – that’s one thing Buck has learned from the past few years.

Buck’s kid shows up WIP

For some reason, this shift's call were all parent related.

Fake dating WIP

Buck is starting to hate silences.

Protective Eddie WIP

Somehow, shifts where Buck and Eddie aren't working together are always awful in a way.

Hold me closer (buck/eddie)

Buck truly had an awful day.

Nothing like the rain (buck/eddie)

The music in the bar seems louder than usual, but maybe it’s because Buck feels overwhelmed.

I see your body in a white dress * (buck/eddie)

Buck is not crying.

I want to feel your love like the weather (all over me) * (buck/eddie)

Buck watches as Eddie drops himself into an uncomfortable chair in the lobby of the motel they found.

Brother I'm home (Roswell, New Mexico) (michael & max, michael/alex)

It’s a quiet night as Michael hums under his breath and cuts the vegetables for dinner.

Against all odds (bobby/athena, bobby & buck)

It takes a lot of convincing to get Bobby to go home.

#fuck it friday #911 #evan buckley #buddie #911 fanfic #eddie diaz #buddie fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction #writing #snippet #bathena fic #bathena #roswell new mexico fic #roswell new mexico

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pleasantfanartist · 8 months

Text

From the fic A Better Man by @wle0416

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earnmysong · 1 year

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relationships | isobel/kyle, pod squad fam

rating | g

chapters | 1/1

word count | 1135

features | tiny humans, hurt/comfort, future bliss

for | @goddesspharo

[*]

“Listen. If Liz and Rosa could punch holes in their bodies at seven to keep a family tradition on track, Annie could watch one movie from the nineties at the same age, with me, to get ours going. I mean, have I been low-key planning this day since she was two and asked Max if she could see his gun? In an unnervingly accurate parallel with her namesake in said film?” Isobel flutters her fingers in front of her, her expectations floating away. “It’s fine. I’ll deal.”

Or: Who knew movies could be hazardous to an overall sense of health and well-being? Definitely not Isobel.

to read, please proceed here!

#myfic #rnm fic #roswell new mexico fic #isobel x kyle #otp: a hug is needed in room two #isobel evans #kyle valenti #roswell new mexico #rnm headcanon #headcanon #for #goddesspharo

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manesalex · 1 year

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nothing starts without you (we become the stories we’ve always wanted): chapter 3/3

When Alex’s former bandmate, Rosa Ortecho, asks him to write a song to help kickstart her solo career, Alex finds himself struggling to write anything at all. Until, that is, he meets Michael Guerin. Or, a loose Music and Lyrics AU. for @alex-guerin @malexsanta

Warnings for suggestive comments, references to past abuse, and references to addiction. Not Maria Deluca friendly.

***

“I love it!” Rosa responds immediately after hearing the part of the song that Michael and Alex have finished. She turns to Michael, “You’re sure you’re okay with me singing it? I mean, you’ll be getting royalties and everything for it, but I know that some writers can have an issue with someone else being the face of their material.”

Alex is so grateful Rosa understands without him having had to say anything about it. He had always been relieved to have her be the face of his songs, to be able to distance himself publicly from his own experiences, but he’s so glad she realizes that Michael may not feel the same way.

“No one wants to hear me sing,” Michael laughs. “As long as you’re crediting me, I’d love to get my work out there.”

“I think a lot of artists will be calling you up and asking you to write for them once this one gets out,” Rosa grins. “Thank you.”

Michael is about to speak when his phone rings. He quickly excuses himself.

And Alex really shouldn’t be surprised with how quickly Rosa takes advantage of the opening, like she’s been itching for the opportunity to interfere in his personal life. “He’s hot,” she says, elbowing Alex.

“I didn’t think he was your type,” Alex replies, being deliberately obtuse. He knows she can read his feelings all over his face. He may be able to hide them from Michael, but Rosa has known him since he was a child and has witnessed every crush he’s ever had.

“You should ask him out,” Rosa ignores the comment.

“I’m pretty sure he’s straight,” Alex admits. “And he used to date Maria Deluca. I’m pretty sure that, even if he were into guys, she put him off of musicians.”

Rosa frowns, takes a moment before saying, “You deserve to be happy, Alex. If anyone deserves to be loved, it’s you. I think you should see if he’d be interested. But, even if he isn’t, I really wish you’d let someone in.”

Alex is about to object when Michael returns. He turns to Alex immediately, saying, “My sister wanted me to invite you to dinner. Tonight. Assuming you’re free?” He almost sounds hopeful.

“I’ve got plans with Kyle,” Alex responds, tone apologetic. “Or I would.” He may have spent the entire day with Michael, but that isn’t nearly enough. Not for him. Alex may have just met him, but he’s pretty sure he’d happily spend the rest of his life with Michael.

“I’m sure Isobel would be happy to have him join us too,” Michael replies. He looks down before meeting Alex’s eyes, “She’s kind of been a fan since your first album. I’m pretty sure she won’t forgive me if she misses her chance to meet you.”

And that explains it. Michael is just a good brother who is trying to make his sister happy. Of course that’s all this is. “Yeah, I think I can talk Kyle into that.”

“Good,” Michael grins at him. Alex feels his heart swell in spite of himself. He’s so screwed.

***

Michael isn’t sure whether his sister was flirting more with Alex or Kyle during dinner. So, when he gets her alone in the kitchen, he says, “You know he’s gay, right?”

“Kyle too?” Isobel sounds disappointed. “I mean, I’d be happy to think about those two hooking up because, wow. There has to be something in the water in this town. They’re both way too hot. And those cheekbones!”

“No, Alex. I’ve known Kyle about as long as you have.”

“Of course I know Alex is gay. And I wouldn’t pursue someone you’re making actual hearteyes at anyway.”

“I’m not-”

Isobel cuts him off, “Michael, I’ve known you my whole life. And I’ve never seen you look at someone like that. Like you’re imagining your wedding to him.”

“He’s way out of my league, Isobel,” Michael argues.

“Did he say that?” Isobel asks, sounding like she already knows the answer. “Look, I know Maria did a number on you, but that man has been returning your adoring looks all night and it would actually be kinda sickening if I didn’t have Kyle here to look at instead.”

“You really think he’d be interested in me?” Michael asks. He knows it’s not a good idea and is sure he wouldn’t survive Alex realizing that Michael isn’t good enough for him, but he can’t help but want it anyway.

“Yes, Michael. He’s obviously interested in you. And I think you should go for it. Tonight, ideally. Leave me alone with the sexy doctor.” Isobel’s grin is positively evil. And, in spite of himself, Michael really wants to take her advice.

***

“Drive you home?” Michael offers in little over a whisper. And Alex wants this to be more than it is, just the friendly offer from the man who drove them both here.

“You do know I’ve been staying with Kyle, right?” Alex asks, giving Michael the option to rescind the polite offer.

“Yeah, I know,” Michael replies, perfectly calmly. “Did you want to wait to get a ride home with him or would you rather let me drive you home?”

Alex is pretty sure he takes far too long to respond. “Let me get my jacket.”

Michael just holds it out to him and waits as Alex puts it on, offering his hand to Alex to help him up.

Alex considers for a moment, but takes it. And then, to his surprise, Michael doesn’t let go, simply leads him toward the front door, shouting, “See you tomorrow, Is!”

“Have fun!” she shouts back. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” Michael shouts at her.

They’re out the door before Isobel can reply.

Before they reach his truck, Michael stops them in the middle of the sidewalk, hand still holding Alex’s. He looks like he’s about to speak and Alex is absolutely certain that, whatever he says, it will kill the fragile bit of hope that’s building inside of him. The hope that, just maybe, Michael might want him after all.

And, suddenly, Michael’s lips are pressed against his and it feels like time stops, like nothing exists outside of the man in front of him, the way his lips are parting, the way his free hand presses against Alex’s lower back, pulling him closer, kissing Alex like he’s precious, like he cares about him more than anyone ever has.

Michael pulls away a couple of inches and Alex opens his eyes to see Michael’s already focused on his own eyes.

And then Michael smiles at him like he’s feeling everything Alex is feeling, like he’s jumped off the edge of a cliff only to start to fly.

***

The last week has been the best week of Michael’s life, waking up next to Alex, getting to kiss him awake, to spend hours in bed, kissing and talking and exploring each others’ bodies. They’ve been taking time to write together as well and, really, every moment Michael spends with Alex, no matter what they’re doing, makes Michael feel happier than he’s ever felt before.

Sadly, he hasn’t been working on Alex’s cabin, but he spends every hour he’s at work counting down to the moment he can be with Alex again.

Tonight, however, he’s going to Rosa’s concert. Alex has some kind of surprise for him and he can’t wait to see whatever it is. Some small part of him hopes he’s going to see Alex get onstage with Rosa to play their song.

He and Isobel get to their seats in the front row, but, to his surprise, Isobel isn’t even looking up from her phone to tease him about how he’d disappeared for the last week.

“Who’s got you so distracted?” he finally asks.

“Kyle,” Isobel admits. Michael is pretty sure she’s actually blushing. “He’s really hot. And a surprisingly generous lover. He went down on me for-”

“Isobel! I don’t want to hear about your sex life!” he objects quickly.

“Your loss,” she shrugs. “You could learn some things.”

“Nothing I’d want to learn,” he replies.

“What about you?” she asks. “Been too busy in Alex Manes’s bed to give me the details?”

“He’s amazing,” Michael smiles. “He’s so kind and smart and-”

“Those aren’t the details I’m looking for,” Isobel tells him.

“I’m not describing his dick to you,” Michael shakes his head.

“You’re no fun!” she pouts for a moment before breaking into a smile. “Seriously though. I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve someone who treats you well.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

He’s incredibly grateful that the house lights lower, preventing Isobel from sharing more unsolicited details about her sex life.

Rosa walks out onstage, grabbing the mic, waiting until the cheers die down. And then she speaks. “I know you were expecting to just see me tonight, but I have a friend here and he’s going to sing a song he wrote first, if you’re all okay with that.”

The crowd cheers, but Michael’s heart drops. A song Alex wrote. Not that they wrote together. He had really thought Alex was so much better than that, so much kinder, that he could trust him. He can’t believe he opened his heart up, that he finally took a chance on someone, only for this to happen again.

He stumbles up the aisle, desperate to get out, to get away from the crowd.

Everything sounds like he’s underwater and he’s pretty sure he’s crying. Until Alex’s voice breaks through all of it.

It’s not the song they’d written. He stops still, turns around to see Alex sitting with his guitar, strumming it and singing into the mic. Singing something Michael has never heard before.

It’s raw and lovely and more vulnerable than anything Michael had heard from him or Rosa before. It’s the most beautiful song Michael has ever heard in his life.

He’s still crying, but no longer tears from a broken heart. The crowd fades away and it’s like it’s just Alex singing directly to him, letting him know about all of his insecurities and fears and hopes.

And, yeah, Michael is definitely in love with this man.

Alex’s eyes find him and he smiles hopefully at Michael and all Michael can do is nod in response.

Alex’s responding grin is brighter than the sun.

Michael’s eyes don’t leave Alex until he’s done with the song and off the stage entirely. And then Michael rushes toward the door, flashing the backstage pass Alex had given him at the guard, desperate to see Alex.

He finds Alex standing backstage in a dressing room, looking like he’s worrying about something.

Michael wants to reassure him, to let him know that there’s no reason for concern. “That was amazing.”

“You really think so?” Alex asks. “It wasn’t too much?” It almost sounds to Michael like he’s asking if he’s too much, if all the vulnerabilities he shared in his song are too much for Michael.

“Yeah. You’re amazing.” He wishes he could show Alex what he sees when he looks at him, how truly gorgeous he is, how amazed Michael is that his heart is still so beautiful after everything he’s gone through. “When did you find the time to write that?”

Alex blushes, looking at the floor, “When you were working.”

Michael steps right in front of him, hand on his jaw, tilting it up so he’s looking Michael in the eye. And all he can do is tell Alex exactly how he feels, even if it’s too soon. “I love you.”

Alex takes a moment to respond, looks like he can’t quite believe his ears. And then he’s smiling and saying, “I love you too.”

They’re both quiet for a moment before Alex realizes, “You’re going to miss Rosa singing your song.”

Michael just shrugs, “Doesn’t matter. I’d rather be here with you.” And it’s true. Before he met Alex, Michael had so desperately wanted to hear his songs sung for crowds of people who all knew he wrote them. But now he’s happy just to be here with Alex.

Alex grabs his hand and Michael smiles in response, intertwining their fingers and squeezing Alex’s hand. And then Alex leads Michael to the stage, right outside of the audience’s view. “Now you can have both,” he says so quietly that only Michael can hear his voice. “You shouldn’t miss this.”

Rosa is standing there in front of the crowd, “This next song was written by Alex and a man named Michael Guerin. I think you’re going to hear a lot of his work in the years to come. Maybe you’re already familiar with some of his stuff.”

Alex seems to anticipate Michael’s question, because, when Michael turns to him for answers, he says, “You’re talented. And you have a very distinctive voice. Rosa figured it out on her own.” And Michael finds himself relieved by that answer, by the knowledge that maybe Maria hasn’t fully gotten away with stealing his work, that maybe people will figure out the truth on their own, without him needing to prove a thing.

Alex gave him that. And so much more than he ever knew he wanted.

Michael turns back toward the stage, watching Rosa sing the song he wrote with Alex, the song that brought the man beside him into his life. He’s not sure if he’s ready for the attention that Rosa implied he’ll be receiving soon, but he knows he’ll be able to handle it, as long as Alex is here at his side.

#malexsanta #malex fic #malex fanfiction #malex #roswell fic #roswell nm fic #rnm fic #roswell new mexico fic #roswell new mexico #michael guerin #i love (1) actual disaster #alex manes #actual cinnamon roll #protect him at all costs #michael x alex #otp: home can be a person #*myfic

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pendragonsandbuckleys · 1 year

Text

do you see the light (at the end of the tunnel)

Summary: Guerin was incredibly lucky not to have short circuited his own heart in his attempt at restarting Alex’s – something Kyle had admonished him for repeatedly since then.

Follow up to I can hear the sound of your barely beating heart

Word Count: 2,612

[Also on AO3]

Guerin was incredibly lucky not to have short circuited his own heart in his attempt at restarting Alex’s – something Kyle had admonished him for repeatedly since then.

He had succeeded in passing out in a rather dramatic fashion at Liz’s feet, scaring the life out of Isobel and leaving Kyle with yet another patient to deal with. But, he supposed, it was much better than the alternative. And after feeling rough for a day – regardless of the gallon of acetone he had chugged – he had soon been back to his normal self.

Not that Kyle was complaining (for once). He couldn’t imagine what Alex would do to him if he found out that his boyfriend had sacrificed his life in order to raise him from the dead.

Kyle was definitely taking partial credit for that by the way. Guerin may have used his magical glowy hand, but the tests they had run since then revealed that his and Liz’s serum had fused to Alex’s cells, the handprint had just given it the jump start it needed.

It was still crazy to think about. The feat they had achieved with only a few science nerds and some alien DNA. He and Liz had literally pulled off the impossible, bringing a human being— bringing their best friend back to life.

They wouldn’t have pulled any of it off without his uncle’s powerful, pro-alien organisation, of course. The tech at Deep Sky had been invaluable not to mention the private space they had been afforded. All employees were very serious about their oath to secrecy regarding what they worked on and witnessed within that building, but it was still nice to know they didn’t have to worry about any ex-boyfriends sneaking around trying to scoop out their scientific discoveries.

He understood why his uncle had been wary when he and Alex had first started to bring everyone into the fold. Eduardo had employed them not their friends. And that was only after extensive background checks. (Yes, even on his own nephew).

This time, he’d welcomed them with open arms if it meant finding a cure for Alex.

Not that it should ever have been needed.

Alex should never have ended up in that situation.

He had been so close to leaving the Air Force. So close to getting out. And he’d told Kyle as much over a beer at the Wild Pony some weeks before his death. He had only stayed in order to investigate the last vestiges of Project Shepard that he suspected was still active but he’d promised Kyle – he’d promised himself – that his next mission would be his last.

Oh, how right he was.

When he’d bumped into Kyle on the morning of his last assignment, he’d mentioned his certainty that his father still had a hold on a small corner of the military and that the mission he was being sent on could very well prove the connection he’d been looking for.

He’d made Kyle promise not to tell Michael – that his boyfriend would just worry endlessly until he returned. Not that Kyle would have blamed him.

When the call came in about Alex’s death, he knew his friend’s suspicions had been true. And he wished beyond anything that he had stopped him from going.

Getting the news had been like a hundred punches to the stomach, winding him instantly. In fact, it felt like he had been holding his breath ever since Isobel had called. His lungs closing in on themselves, refusing to take in any air until his friend could do the same, as if it was the least they could do.

But there was time to unpack his guilt later. For now, he was more than happy to focus on the miracle of a fact that Alex Manes was alive.

There was just the minor issue of him not having woken up yet.

Entering the Deep Sky infirmary, he was unsurprised to see that the familiar scene before him was unchanged since his last check in. Alex was reclined on the bed, eyes closed in a seemingly endless sleep, the few screens surrounding him beeping steadily.

The EKG leads snaking under the collar of his loose-fitting t-shirt were just a precaution, a way for Kyle to monitor his condition easily and put his mind at ease for when he wasn’t in the room. For all intents and purposes, Alex seemed to be okay, his recent brush with death having left no ill effects on his body.

Glued to his side, Guerin didn’t look to have moved an inch in the hour that Kyle was out of the room. He’d been waiting patiently, diligently, (relentlessly) since Alex had taken his first breath a few days ago and lack of sleep was definitely going to catch up with him at some point. Kyle had tried to make him take a break, but if there was one thing Michael Guerin wasn’t going to do, it was listen to a Valenti.

He was looking better though, in a way. Still tired, but less dishevelled. Less of a wreck. The past month had been hard on all of them but none more than Michael. For a rough, tough cowboy, always eager to put up a front, he hadn’t been far off from completely breaking apart. And even Kyle had to admit, that had been difficult to witness.

But the hardest part was over now, Alex was alive and that was their only focus.

Guerin didn’t react as Kyle entered the room, one hand propping up his chin whilst the other rested gently atop Alex’s, his thumb lazily tracing the grooves of his boyfriend’s knuckles. His gaze only wandered away from Alex’s lax features once Kyle was close enough to survey the monitors, but he had a feeling Guerin was paying more attention to the up and down of the waveform than he was to the doctor reading them.

It was a common sight at the hospital – relatives not wanting to stray too far from their loved ones for fear of the worst. Sometimes they would stare at the screens for hours without really knowing what the flashing numbers meant, just on the lookout for the first warning sign that something was wrong. Anything to feel useful.

It was a horrible responsibility for someone to put on themselves, but he was kind of glad Alex had someone in his life that would do the same for him.

He’d seen the connection between the two of them for some time, even back in high school when he’d secretly kept track on Alex in between his macho need to torment him. He had to thank teenage Kyle for having a modicum of sense back then and not sabotaging Alex’s life entirely.

Since they’d reconciled, he’d seen how cheerful Alex had been. The way he got all sappy when he talked about Guerin, blush creeping up his cheeks as if Kyle wasn’t aware of how absolutely head over heels he was.

And honestly, it made Kyle so damn happy.

He glanced up from Alex’s chart, pen hovering above the paper mid-update, and over to Guerin with a look that obviously had the man spiralling into instant panic.

“What’s wrong?” Guerin asked, eyes widening as his brow pulled down low. Kyle chose not to comment on the way he gripped Alex’s hand a little tighter.

“What’s wrong is that you’re still sitting here. I thought I told you to go home and rest.”

“Yeah, and I told you that I’m not going anywhere, Valenti.” His attempt at being disdainful failed, his usual level of snark muted drastically by the clear exhaustion hanging over him.

Kyle held back the exasperated sigh as he continued jotting down notes. He knew better than to argue against Guerin when he was like this. His first attempts at getting him to leave had ended with raised voices and more accidentally exploded light bulbs and he couldn’t imagine Eduardo would be best pleased with more of his property being destroyed.

He could feel Guerin’s eyes on him, watching him carefully as he wrote, so obvious in his concern.

“Is something wrong?” Guerin asked him gingerly as he placed the clipboard on the table, and he forced himself to hold back another sigh for a completely different reason.

“No.” He replied, the gentle tone saved for soothing fearful relatives coming through. “Everything still looks okay. There doesn’t seem to be any lasting effects, his vitals are still normal… We just need to give him time.”

Guerin nodded, roughly wiping at a stray tear that escaped so quickly it had rolled off his chin before he could stop it. Kyle hadn’t thought it possible for him to look even more deflated but the way his gaze shifted back to Alex showed his disappointment at the answer.

They could pretend that it was good news all they wanted, taking solace in that fact that Alex wasn’t suddenly getting worse, but the longer it took for him to wake up, the harder it was to see any positives.

“Does he know that we’re here? Can he— like, is he hearing us, without being able to—?”

And if that wasn’t the age-old coma question.

“Honestly Guerin, I don’t know.”

Michael nodded again absentmindedly, biting his lip so hard Kyle was surprised he didn’t draw blood. There was little else he could do for now and as Guerin laced his fingers with Alex’s, bringing his hand up to kiss softly at his knuckles, he took that as his cue to leave.

Before he could fully close the door behind him, he heard Guerin whisper gently to a blissfully unaware Alex.

“You take as long as you need. We’ll all be here when you’re ready.”

—

Kyle didn’t stray far.

As had often been the case during the past few days.

He had taken emergency leave at the hospital shortly after beginning their search for a cure. Every minute spent not in the lab had felt like a waste of precious time and he had found it increasingly more difficult to concentrate on the patients in front of him when his mind kept wandering to the one waiting for him in stasis.

He had yet to return to work, despite successfully pulling off the small medical miracle of conquering death and resurrecting his childhood best friend. They were in untested waters here with no real clue of the consequences to their actions and he wasn’t going to leave until he knew for certain that Alex would be okay.

Bringing him back didn’t come with any guarantees, despite what he had been reassuring Guerin. But then, sometimes loved ones needed that little bit of hope to hold onto.

He kept himself busy in the lab – Deep Sky having an abundance of fascinating work to dive into – until it was time to check in on Alex again.

The door opened quietly as he turned the handle, the soft click of the hinges doing little to disturb the occupants of the room, and the softly spoken words floating out from inside left him reluctant to enter. As he lingered in the doorway, he could hear Guerin talking to Alex again, gentle encouragements for him to open his eyes or squeeze his hand again.

He could see Alex from where he stood and it was only as he noticed the tiny furrow of his brow that had been absent for so long, that he registered Guerin’s words.

Again.

Kyle felt his heart in his throat as he realised what he was watching. The scrunch of his nose, the ever so slightly pursed lips. Was Alex really, finally waking up?

He stepped further into the room, eager to be ready in case his patient needed him but found himself pausing before he got too close. His heart was racing now in anticipation but a small part of him – the part that had witnessed this exact situation so many times at the hospital over the years – begged him not to get his hopes up.

That begged him to tell Guerin not to get his hopes up.

It had been so long since they had brought a deceased Alex back to Roswell, a small part of him had never really believed that their end goal would be achieved. That this had been the best they were ever going to get. But it seemed the universe had actually answered their prayers.

Alex’s eyes opened slowly, his unfocused gaze lazily searching the ceiling above him before drifting to the right to land on Guerin. For a moment, there was no sign of recognition, just two dark eyes staring at a stranger in front of him and then— Alex smiled. A frail, pitiful excuse for a smile, the corners of his lips turning up just a fraction. But honestly, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Guerin was too caught up in the moment to notice Kyle’s intrusion. He was standing now, one hand still wrapped around Alex’s as he squeezed it tight, beaming grin on his face as he let the tears freely stain his skin. His other ran soothingly through Alex’s hair, and he bent forward to press wet and teary kisses against his temple, whispering grateful reassurances too low for Kyle to make out.

Alex could barely keep his eyes open as he tried to accept the sudden outpouring of love, but his smile couldn’t help but grow. His hand lifted from the bed but, lacking the strength to get far enough to reach Guerin, it came to rest weakly on his chest and Kyle wondered if maybe the physical touches weren’t the only thing he was feeling.

He watched as Alex slowly ran his thumb back and forth over the spot at the centre of his ribs — the spot where an alien handprint had been etched into his skin a few days prior – and wondered if maybe he could feel Guerin’s very soul crying out in relief. If the celestial bond that Guerin had been desperate to feel had finally snapped into place.

He had been trying to ignite it since he resurrected Alex, questioning Liz and Max on how it worked for them— how he could use it to bring Alex back to them. But each time he tried, there had been nothing. A dark emptiness where a rush of emotions should be. He’d beaten himself up about that, convinced he had done something wrong. Convinced that he had failed Alex.

But Kyle had never believed that.

It had been hard to see Alex so lifeless for so damn long, flashes of a future without him spurring them on and pushing them to the limit. But watching him now, him and Guerin, Kyle’s heart was almost bursting with relief.

On the darker days when it had been too much for Guerin, when the outcome they’d longed for had been but an impossible notion and he had struggled to see even the dimmest light at the end of the tunnel, Kyle had tried his best to keep the hope alive. For Guerin. For Alex. For all of them.

But watching them now, foreheads touching and fingers intertwined, he didn’t need to cling onto that hope anymore.

The doctor in him was desperate to check on his patient but he forced himself to hold back. This precious moment was the least they deserved and it would do neither of them any good for him to break it.

So he let them hold each other for a minute longer. And as he watched on with a full heart and teary eyes, he finally let himself take a breath.

#roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #my fic

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