#jule1122

---

Alex woke up slowly, pulling the comforter around him tighter, more chilled than he usually was in the mornings. And then he connected two dots, rolled over, and saw that Michael wasn't in bed with him. By the look of his side of the bed it seemed that he was never there, but Alex distinctly remembered giving Michael one hell of a blow job, with Michael returning the favor enthusiastically before passing out in a tangle of limbs.

Once he finished reveling in those memories, he noticed some other changes in the bedroom, mostly that his surroundings were unfamiliar.

"What the actual fuck," he said, sitting up quickly in the bed. He was not in his own bed, not in his house, and with a quick look out the window it appeared that he was no longer in Roswell, let alone New Mexico.

Luckily, his prosthetic was leaning against the bedside table, so he quickly rolled on the sock and slipped everything else into place. The thing was though, the prosthetic was not his new one. It seemed to be one he'd had a year ago, before Michael had made some custom upgrades with Oasian glass.

As he moved around the house from room to room, he deduced that he did not in fact live alone, but shared it with two others, likely girls from all the products in the bathroom. And he figured one of them must be Rosa, what with all the custom artwork lining the walls.

The more he tried to figure out what was going on, memories of another life swirled around his mind. In his head it was as if two timelines of experience co-existed - one where he and Michael just got back from their honeymoon, and the other was whatever this was where he was roommates with the Ortecho sisters in Los Angeles. But there were no parallel memories with him and Michael here, and that made him ten times more worried about what the hell was going on. He had no idea where Michael was or what he could be doing. He hoped he might still be in Roswell after all these years, but he wasn't sure if he should call anyone out of the blue to ask about him. Calling Sanders at the junkyard or Arturo at the Crashdown, or hell even Mimi at the Wild Pony would likely be his best options. And since he didn't think he really knew Sanders in this timeline and he likely hasn't been back to visit Roswell in all the years since high school, Mimi and Maria probably would be pissed at him for calling them out of the blue asking about Michael - and rightly so.

So Arturo it would be, but he decided to wait until at least Liz or Rosa returned home from work, just in case.

---

How do they find each within this bizzaro new reality? Can Michael tune into his powers to reach out to find Alex? Should he bring this up to Isobel, or will she call him crazy and go back to her perfect life.

He scrunched up his face and tried to make a mindscape connection to Alex. When that didn't work he tried to see if he could tap into those frequencies like Rosa was able to, but nothing worked. He was either too far away or that wasn't a thing he could actually do with his magical alien powers.

And this was when his other super power, his brain, kicked in and he realized he should check with Arturo at the Crashdown as he might know things - since he was vaguely recollecting that Alex had left with Rosa and Liz.

Michael snagged an empty stool at the counter, hoping he could easily get Arturo's attention. It was so busy in the Crashdown, busier than he'd ever seen it in real life outside of CrashCon week. But this was just a sleepy Wednesday in December, nothing special going on except that it was the week before Christmas. And then it dawned on Michael, regret tugging at his guts thinking about how his and Max's decisions on that night years ago had forever hurt the Ortecho family.

"Hola Michael, what can I get for you, your usual?" Arturo asked, his demeanor happy and boisterous like always, no matter what was going on.

"Actually, I came for a bit of help, but I would love a Chocolate Nebula Swirl milkshake, to go, muchas gracias." While he waited for the drink to be ready, Michael ran through in his head the best way to ask Arturo about Alex. He didn't really know what the whole situation was with the Ortecho sisters, but maybe that was the best course of action?

"Here you go," Arturo said, sliding the shake over.

As Michael laid the bills down on the counter to pay, he asked, "Soooo… when are Liz and Rosa headed home for Christmas?"

"Oh they won't be coming, unfortunately. My girls are off being too busy and successful to make it home very often. But at least Carlos can take care of everything for me - I'm headed to the beach for Christmas to visit!" Arturo's eyes gleamed with happiness. "It's not very often I'm able to visit them either, so this year will be very special."

"If you're driving, mind if I tag along? I can pay for gas." Michael hoped that Arturo hadn't planned on flying out.

"Why Michael, that is great of you to offer, actually. I would love the company," Arturo replied. While he didn't ask why Michael needed a last minute trip to California, the story would likely come out on the long, shared car ride. "I'll bring the snacks, of course," he offered.

"When should I be ready?" Michael asked. The sooner he could find Alex, the better.

"I'm leaving in the morning, first thing. Alex has a gig in a couple of days that the girls want me to attend, although, to be honest, I think I'm too old for the LA music scene…" Arturo rambled on about his plans with Liz and Rosa, but Michael's attention stopped and spiraled at his mention of Alex. It was as if he had two thought processes going at once - fucking happy that he would be able to see Alex and talk to him and help him figure out what the fuck was going on, and then at the same time his stomach was in knots, as if a whole herd of butterflies were doing loop de loops in his belly. It was a feeling he didn't think he'd had since high school, since before he kissed Alex in the UFO Emporium.

Over the following days, the trip west went by quicker than Michael expected it to, and in no time they were winding their way through the streets of LA, destination: Alex.

---

Alex never made that call to Arturo, getting wrapped up Christmas preparations and rehearsing for his show over the next few days. The show wasn't anything major or groundbreaking, just a few short sets at an art sale a group of Rosa's friends were hosting. It was just an opportunity for Alex to get back out there and perform. Every now and again, he came back to himself, realizing he'd gotten lost in this other Alex's life, nearly forgetting all about his own, about Michael. It wasn't as though this life made him happier or more fulfilled creatively, but it managed to fit in a comfortable way that was much too easy to get lost in.

He was in the makeshift green room, pacing back and forth, nervous because he would be hitting the stage next. His setlist was all sorted, a mix of his songs and a few versions of some Christmas songs that he was able to tolerate putting his own spin on. And then the scent of rain filled Alex's nostrils and his memories of Michael flooded back in.

There standing in the doorway was Michael, quietly watching him with a tilt to his head and a smirk on his lips.

"Nostalgia's a bitch." Michael couldn't help saying that line, as if the other Michael had hoped to say that to Alex in this other life.

Alex shuddered with a sudden jolt, and rushed over to Michael, crowding him against the doorframe, placing a tender kiss against Michael's lips. "I was stuck in my own head, or in the head of the Alex in this reality, but you pulled me out," Alex said, leaning back slightly, relieved that Michael was here. "Any idea what's going on?"

"Not exactly, but we might be caught up in each other's dream or nightmare, depending on how this all goes," Michael reasoned. "I'm hoping at some point we'll just wake up."

"Or is it like a Hallmark or Lifetime Christmas movie where we have to have some grand realization before that happens?" Alex had been suckered into a few movie nights recently with Kyle and Isobel where these types of movies had been the oeuvre of choice. And while he hated that his mind had twisted one all around and got him stuck in his own alternate reality dream, at least this wasn't the hot pocket dimension again.

---

They made it through the evening, Alex going through the motions of his performance, Michael mingling through the crowd and looking at the art and 'catching' up with Liz and Rosa, which was a weird bit of mindfuckery, since to them he hadn't seen them really at all since high school.

As the night wore on, so did Alex and Michael's unease. Something was still missing. They both wanted so desperately to wake up from this alternate reality dreamscape before something terrible happened to turn it truly nightmarish. And then as Alex was packing up after his last set, Michael picked up Alex's guitar, and after strumming a few chords, it all seemed to click.

Michael remembered telling Flint, of all people, about his dreams of a Dad Band with Alex. Was that what was missing? Them making music together?

"Alex?" Michael asked. Alex looked up from the keyboard case he was packing, but then everything faded away.

---

Michael and Alex woke up, their arms and legs tangled with each other and the bed sheets, reality slowly creeping back in after such a vivid dream.

Maybe it was time to start that band Michael had always dreamed about. But what about the dad part? Were they ready? How would they acquire children that would turn them into legit dads? Alex affectionately called Michael 'Plant Daddy' when he learned about his tender affection for his garden and his crop of sunflowers. But an actual dad to kids?

It seemed like it was time to have those conversations couples usually have long before their wedding. Even though they'd been dating and nearly living together for almost a year, not all the deep and long-term planning discussions happened. There was too much other lost time to make up for, and thinking about further into the future was put on the backburner.

After a long, very hot shower together to wash off the weirdness of that dream, they cuddled up on the sofa with cups of coffee to talk about what had happened in their dream.

"So, whatever that co-nightmare/mindscape we woke up from was, I think we need to hash out some goals for our life together," Michael started, which, starting conversations like this was definitely not in his wheelhouse. "I'm only saying this so that life doesn't pass us by and with only a blink of an eye, we're as old as Sanders, but without all of the things we maybe dreamed our lives could be."

"Is this about that Dad Band you joked about at our wedding reception?" Alex asked.

"Partially."

"Or is it more the kids part because I think I'd definitely be into having conversations and planning for that, as long as that was something you wanted too," Alex said, realizing as he was saying that that it was something he had only ever had an outside chance of ever being able to realize. "What were you thinking, adoption?"

"We could start by practicing baby-making?" Michael said, only half joking.

"I don't think it works that way," Alex replied with a grin, "but I'd be down for trying. You are an alien after all." Michael just countered with a tickle attack, the room filled with shrieks of laughter.

“Alex,” Michael greeted, a smile already at his lips. He glanced at the coffee and back to Alex, “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow I take it?” This was part of the new normal for Michael, meeting Alex for coffee, three or four mornings a week. It was something that had grown out of a happy coincidence, Alex’s gym was near the Boys and Girls Club that Michael volunteered at, serving breakfast in the mornings and tutoring kids in math in the afternoon.

Same place at the same time, once, then twice, became a standard thing. Not a date. Just, taking advantage of the mutual collision to talk. And at first, it was awkward to share news with each other, like Alex’s dating experiences with Forrest or Michael’s attempts to recover his memories of his planet, but later things had softened into a routine. Order coffee, find a small table, and then spend the next hour playfully fending off Alex’s attempts to foist food on Michael’s side of the table while also stealing sips of his caramel lattes. 

Perhaps one day Alex would realize that Michael had only ordered the ridiculously sweet coffee drinks because he knew that was what Alex preferred to drink. It was still a damn toxic hold over from Jesse Manes that Alex still persisted in ordering black coffee with no sugar. Dating Forrest might have helped Alex be open with his sexuality, there were still lessons for Alex to learn in being gentle with himself, Michael observed. The act of indulging in pleasures, instead of engaging in deprivation, it was something he struggled with as well.

In the meantime, Michael could at least help Alex in this small way, letting him ‘steal’ his lattes.

“Alex?” Something about Michael had robbed Alex of all speech as he just stared up at Michael in response, still holding the drinks dumbly in his hands. “Are you okay? What’s wrong-”

The switch from teasing to urgent concern finally snapped Alex out of his apparent stupor. “Right, nothing, um, just- since when do you wear glasses?”

Michael’s hand went to his face automatically, realizing belatedly that he was still wearing his reading glasses. He started to pull them off, blushing in embarrassment, when Alex blurted out, “They look good! On you. The glasses. Um great even.” 

“Oh.” Now that. Michael did not know what to do with that. 

In the yellow-wash of light, Alex was clearly the same man from yesterday’s coffee visit physically. His soft mouth was there, but it came with his standard closed expression that he must have picked up abroad, wearing it now as Michael’s least favorite souvenir. His posture was the same too, forever changed from losing his leg, straight-backed and rigid but just then, he was someone Michael hadn’t seen in a long time. That awkward stuttering response was Alex Manes, the seventeen-year-old boy who had whipped off his visor nervously in the museum, the same boy who touched with soft gliding palms newly revealed skin before snatching his hands away at the first sign that it was unwelcome. 

Aware that it was his turn to stare at Alex, Michael forced himself to smile naturally, “I guess not even my alien physiology can beat back the glare of a computer screen. I forgot I had them on.”

“Did I interrupt something? I can go if you want,” Alex stopped, probably hearing the past echo between them but not in the benign way of before. “Or I can stay and help, even if it’s with surprise coffee?” This time he lifted the tray up between them, an offer or a barricade of politeness, Michael wasn’t sure.

“I’m looking for other survivors,” Michael admitted, before looking down to avoid Alex’s sharpened gaze of interest. “On the internet, obviously, since I don’t think I can trust that I could sense them with my mind.”

It was clear that Alex hadn’t forgotten any of the various tactics Jones had employed against them, but Michael in particular. A frequent repeated taunt was about how damaged their psychic abilities were for adults, to the point no one had sensed Caulfield, but that from his pod prison Jones could hear Nora calling for help nightly right until the end. The twisted knife of how Michael had grown up waiting for someone to save him. Alex pursed his lips to object, “Michael-”

“Jones was full of shit about a lot,” Michael assured him quickly, “but I think he was right about the ships, that it wasn’t just one that crashed. I’m just combing through stories, basically internet mythology, looking for clues about strangers who might have some sort of power. It’s a lot of ‘world’s biggest cucumber’ stories right now, but hey, come in, you’re the computer genius and I could use your help and your coffee.” He placed his hands on the coffee holder, carrying it for Alex and backed away from the steps to let Alex have as much room as possible to navigate the cumbersome metal steps into the Airstream.

The seating area of the Airstream had been folded away and stored in order to make room for the drying rack of his clothes from laundry day, leaving only his narrow bed for seating. Michael had half-a-minute’s pause in reconsideration. They could relocate outside to his fire pit with the cheap camp chairs, and sit pressed together elbow-to-elbow around the dim screen of the laptop between them. Or. Or they could squeeze together on his bed, a place where that sort of contact between them had always led to sex. What was the safer option for their friendship? 

His heart always strayed too far from the safety of his bones when it came to Alex. 

Ignoring his pounding pulse, he grabbed the coffee cup marked “Alex” and pulled it to his lips to drink and made a gesture to the bed. At least he had made the bed up earlier with clean linens, the spread was neatly tucked into the corners, almost military sharp. That made it feel slightly less risqué to him than inviting Alex into warm mussed sheets that reeked of Michael’s skin. That rain and bourbon scent that Alex had pointed out.

“Um, your coffee was the other one.” Alex picked up the abandoned cup marked with a ‘M’ and followed him over to the bed. 

“No, I’m drinking the coffee I always end up with. Your black tar juice.” 

Alex smiled slightly, caught out by the observation before gingerly sitting next to Michael as Michael scooted over toward the wall of the Airstream. “Yeah, I guess I do end up stealing yours.” He brought his left leg up easily on the mattress and then passed his coffee cup over to Michael’s waiting hands as he brought his prosthetic up with both hands for balance. The smile faded, as Alex reclaimed the ‘M’ cup to sip from deep in thought as he seemed to review the history of their morning encounters. “I’m sorry-”

“Alex, come on,” he teased leaning his shoulder against Alex’s. “You haven’t caught on by now? I only order that sugar monstrosity because I know you won’t let yourself do it. I don’t even like caramel that much.”

“What? Come on, that’s what you ordered that first time-”

“I ordered that for the director at the community center.” Michael placed his coffee on the window of the Airstream and concentrated on bringing the laptop back up to rest on his knees between them not daring to look at Alex. He would never be able to confess the next bit and see Alex’s too-expressive gaze at the same time. But. As he had reminded himself earlier, he needed to work on indulging in pleasures as well, not just holding on to the pylon weight of depriving himself, of never believing he was worthy of good things. And being Alex’s friend was that. A pleasure. A good thing. The best thing.

“Once I saw you though, I kinda forgot the errand I was on in the first place. Then, I might have gone back at the same time the next day. And the day after that. For reasons.” He glanced to the side, meeting Alex’s wide eyes briefly before turning back to the laptop. “So I guess it's my turn to apologize? I might have had an agenda.”

It was quiet between them, as Michael clicked through a few different forums. He wasn’t paying any attention to where his cursor landed, he just kept scrolling through window after window as a distraction because the urge to pull back, to crack a joke, to do anything but let Alex process in silence was hard to suppress but needed. That was a part of becoming friends, learning that Alex needed extra time to formulate a response, something that came from needing to shut all emotional responses off during a drone operation at work.

“Me too,” Alex replied softly. “About the agenda. I mean, I don’t even have a membership at that gym.”

Michael frowned, the words not making any sense to him.

“That first time was dumb luck, I mean, I stopped in that morning because I had stayed the night at Forrest’s for the first time and I found out he doesn’t drink coffee. Doesn’t even own a coffee maker.” Alex scoffed quietly, before leaning against Michael affectionately, “I should have known that it was doomed from the start, just on coffee alone but what really put the nail in the coffin was the fact I pretended to go to that gym for two months because I had a bag of clothes with me when you saw me.”

“That was your clothes from staying over with him,” Michael said slowly, almost to himself, before he frowned even deeper as the connections fell into place. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or not, but this was a new level of avoidance of an awkward subject for Alex.  It did make sense considering the timing, and maybe that was why he was confessing now to Michael because not that Michael allowed himself to show it, the early days of Alex’s relationship with the historian were difficult for him. He didn’t begrudge Alex being happy or being with someone else, but there was still an old, gnarled bit of Michael’s heart that pinched painfully at seeing the romance play out for everyone in Roswell to see. “Alex, I know you guys are dating, you didn’t have to lie about that and pretend you had gone to that gym.” 

“Were dating,” Alex patiently corrected. “Pay attention, Michael. I just said it was doomed from the start.”

“Because he didn’t drink coffee?”

“Because I was engaging in a deep cover operation that involved a fake gym membership, rescheduling my appointments to the afternoon and blocking out time in my mornings all, so I could see you.” The gears were still turning too slowly for Alex’s liking as he rolled his eyes at Michael and continued, “I ended it with Forrest about a month ago. Or well, he ended it with me because I was always too busy in the morning for breakfast and I never wanted to stay over at his.”

Michael blinked, then looked down at his laptop. The ancient fan and processor were making a soft whine of effort, much like his own brain at the moment. Alex was single. Alex has been single for over a month. A month where he didn’t mention it once during their get-togethers. 

Alex exhaled slowly, draining the latte before placing the cup out of range. “I’m really trying to use my words here, but you have exactly one minute to understand what I’m saying before I have to get creative-”

“Are you saying that you-”

“Yes-”

“Still want me?”

“I never stopped,” Alex reached for Michael’s hand, stilling the rapid clicking. “I came here because I wanted to be honest with you. It occurred to me that somewhere along the line, those meetups for coffee had basically become the most important part of my day. I … I was turning them into dates in my head. With you.” He licked his lips, his eyes drifting down to Michael’s mouth, causing Michael to bite his own lip in response. The anticipation between them thickened, until Alex groaned softly, his head briefly ducking toward Michael’s. “In the past, I’ve been guilty of thinking we were on the same page, and we weren’t, so I’m- Michael, I will still be your friend no matter what, but I want-”

This time, Michael didn’t let him finish and closed the scant distance between them on the bed to kiss Alex. The laptop fell to the side of their legs as Alex surged into it, pushing Michael down flat on the mattress in his eagerness. Michael opened for Alex, letting him have whatever he wanted and buried his fingers in the soft, black hair as they traded kisses.

Suddenly, a bubble of laughter burst from Michael’s chest, the lightness of the situation that felt almost too good to be real spread through his veins. “Oh my god, you brought me coffee to tell me that getting coffee together wasn’t just getting coffee for you, Alex-”

“Shut up!”

“You need a new job, nothing in intel, sweetheart-”

“I am, I did, that is.” Alex lifted his eyebrow at Michael’s too-still pause before he sweetly brushed the long stubborn curl out of Michael’s face, “Done with the Air Force as of next month.”

“Fuck me.”

“I’ll go with you,” Max says. 

“You’re gonna sleep in the airstream?” he asks, amused. 

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight, Michael,” Isobel says. “What if he comes back?” 

“He already got what he wanted out of me or he wouldn’t have let me go,” he explains, trying not to let his mind linger too long on Mr. Jones and what had happened tonight. 

“I would feel better if you weren’t alone,” Isobel says, giving him a pointed look. 

“And I would feel better in my own bed,” he says. He just wants to forget this night ever happened and he can’t very well do that if he’s being babysat. 

“I can drive you home,” Maria says, sensing his need, thankfully. He takes her up on her offer despite his siblings' protests. 

They are silent on the drive to his place and when they arrive at the junkyard, the most she says is goodbye. It’s not awkward though, not like it should be with an ex. Maria isn’t silent because she’s annoyed at his presence. She just knows him well enough to know that he’s not up to talking. He watches as she drives off before stepping into the airstream. The moment the door is closed behind him and he’s truly alone, his entire body deflates as the events of the day catch up with him. He practically falls into bed, not even bothering to take his shoes off. 

He just wants to sleep for the next 17 days. 

His phone rings and he’s about to tell whoever it is to fuck off when he sees that it’s Alex and he can’t help but smile before answering. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” Alex says in a way that lets Michael know he’s surprised that Michael picked up even though he told him he would. 

“What’s up?” he asks, laying back on the bed and toeing off his shoes as he attempts to get comfortable. 

“I didn’t want to talk with everyone watching us,” he admits. “Are you doing okay?” 

The question, when asked earlier by his siblings, had annoyed him. Here, it fills him with warmth. 

“Yeah. I’m feeling okay.” 

“I was worried about you,” Alex admits, his voice shaking a bit and it’s the second time today that Alex hasn’t sounded like his usual calm, cool, collected self. 

“He didn’t hurt me,” he assures him. If he’s being honest, he also says it to assure himself. 

“Good,” Alex says through what’s clearly a yawn. 

“You should get some sleep, I’m okay. I promise.” 

“No,” Alex says. “I just need to hear your voice a little bit longer.” 

Michael wonders how his boyfriend feels about that, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tugs his pants off and then pulls the blanket over him as he and Alex talk about anything and everything well into the night. In fact, it’s nearly 4am when Michael finally falls asleep, phone still at his ear, listening to the sound of Alex snoring on the other end. 

“You can open your eyes now,” Alex tells him, and when he does he’s greeted by the sight of Alex looking critically at his handiwork.

“All done?” Michael asks hopefully, his fingers itching to strip Alex out of those goddamn skinny jeans.

“Mmm, not quite,” Alex answers, bringing the eye pencil back to his face and Michael only just manages to smother the whine building in his throat. “Look up again for me.”

Michael obeys, glancing up toward the ceiling.

“Perfect, just like that,” Alex murmurs absently, like he doesn’t know what those words will do to Michael, or, more specifically, the semi he’s been sporting since the second Alex pushed him back against the mattress and climbed on top of him. His cock twitches, swelling against the zipper of his jeans, and even though Alex is perched right on top of it, he doesn’t comment, his attention fixed firmly on Michael’s face.

“God, your eyelashes are so fucking long, it’s unreal,” Alex gushes as he adds the finishing touches to Michael’s waterline. “Can I put some mascara on you too?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he flirts, smiling up at him.

Alex shakes his head to himself, but he’s smiling too as he reaches for his make up bag. He pulls out a small pink tube with a bright green cap.

Alex tells Michael to look up again before he starts brushing the tiny mascara wand over his eyelashes. As he switches eyes, he adjusts himself across Michael’s lap, presumably to get a better vantage point, but the movement has him bearing down right onto Michael’s cock. Michael gasps, his hips bucking upward involuntarily and shifting Alex in his lap.

“Michael!” Alex scolds him, lifting the mascara brush away from his face.

Michael looks at him again, expecting to see anger in his eyes to match his tone, but he finds concern there instead.

“I could’ve hurt you,” he says, softer this time as he rubs the back of his fingers tenderly against Michael’s cheek. “Please stop moving.”

Michael sighs helplessly. “If you want me to stop moving, you’re gonna have to stop grinding down on me like that,” he says, taking hold of Alex’s hips to keep him still. “It’s not my fault you feel so good.”

Michael isn’t sure what he expected would happen when he said that, but he really should have figured that reminding Alex of the situation in his jeans would backfire on him spectacularly. Alex never could resist an opportunity to tease him.

“Grinding down on you how?” Alex asks, his expression turning devilish as he bears down on Michael’s lap again, on purpose this time. He rubs his ass right over Michael’s aching cock in slow, tantalizing circles, and Michael is powerless to stop a desperate moan from tumbling from his lips, his thighs straining from the effort to keep still. “Like that?”

“Alex,” Michael whines, his grip on Alex’s thighs tightening. “Either finish what you’re doing or take your pants off and do me instead.”

That makes Alex laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says fondly.

“I’m horny,” Michael corrects, the tips of his thumbs edging dangerously close to the fly of Alex’s jeans. “There’s a difference.”

Alex lowers himself down until his face is hovering directly over Michael’s, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of Michael’s head.

“Is that so?” he asks, his eyes flicking down to Michael’s lips. “And what do you think I should do about that, huh?”

Michael gulps as he looks up at him, aching to feel Alex’s mouth on his. His thoughts must be obvious because a second later Alex leans in to capture Michael’s lips with his own in a kiss that leaves his head spinning. It doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t need to; the suggestive way Alex sucks on Michael’s tongue the moment Michael slides it into his mouth makes him moan and shake where he lies against his mattress, a delightfully cruel tease of what’s to come if Michael stays on his best behavior.

He isn’t proud of the noise he makes when Alex pulls away.

“Be patient,” Alex says, dropping another, chaster kiss to Michael’s slack mouth before he sits back up. “I’m almost done.”

He dips the mascara brush into its pink tube once more and gets back to work, careful to keep his hips still this time. Michael lies there in a daze, letting Alex do whatever it is he still needs to do.

“There we go,” Alex says a moment later, sounding pleased. “Perfect. You wanna see?”

Michael nods. His brain is a little more online now than it was a moment ago, but not enough for him to bother sitting up, so he just stays put. Alex laughs quietly to himself before he reaches for an old plastic hand mirror and holds it up over Michael’s face so he can get a good look.

“Oh,” Michael says, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes are rimmed in black, his lashes longer and fuller than he’s ever seen them, and, to his surprise, he pulls it off better than he thought he would. The t-shirt he stole from Alex this morning really completes the look. “Huh. I look kinda hot.”

“Kinda?” Alex asks incredulously.

Michael tries to look around the mirror at him, but it disappears from view as Alex climbs off his lap and flops down on the mattress beside him. He holds the mirror back up once he’s settled, close enough that Michael can see his reflection in the mirror alongside his own.

“Baby, look at you,” Alex insists, his voice filled with something like awe. “You’re gorgeous.”

It’s not the first time he’s heard Alex sound like that when talking about him, but it never ceases to amaze and humble him.

“Gorgeous, huh?” Michael asks, eyes on Alex’s reflection.

“Mhmm,” Alex says confidently. Through the mirror, Michael watches Alex lean in before he feels the soft brush of his lips against his cheek. When Alex pulls away, he sets the mirror down on the bed and tips Michael’s chin in his direction so he can look at him, his smile affectionate as he says, quite seriously, “You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, Michael.”

Michael’s answering grin is wide and genuine.

“I love you,” Michael tells him, his heart indescribably full.

“I love you too,” Alex smiles, rolling over onto his side and moving closer until he’s pressed flush to Michael’s side. “And thank you.”

“For what?” Michael asks, turning over onto his own side to mirror Alex’s pose.

“For letting me do this for you,” Alex answers, brushing an errant curl from Michael’s forehead. “For trusting me.”

“Any time,” Michael says, reaching up to run the pad of his thumb gently over Alex’s full bottom lip. His skin is invitingly soft and Michael is desperate to kiss him again.

“You sure?” Alex asks, and Michael can feel his lip shift beneath his finger as he smiles. “You seemed a little, uh, frustrated for a while there. You sure you’d wanna sit here like that for me again?”

Michael registers the challenge and decides to give Alex a taste of his own medicine. He leans in close, letting his finger slip from Alex’s mouth and trail slowly down his throat. He doesn’t try to hide his smirk when he feels Alex swallow, his mouth dropping open in anticipation.

“I’ll sit anywhere you like, Alex,” he says, hooking his leg over Alex’s.

“Oh yeah?” Alex asks lowly, his grin turning filthy as he slides his palm up Michael’s thigh.

“Mhmm,” Michael nods, leaning in to kiss his jaw before he whispers, “You might just have to fuck me first if you want me to sit still for you, though.”

Alex hums thoughtfully before he pushes Michael gently onto his back. Michael’s breath hitches in his throat as Alex crawls between his thighs, nudging them further apart as he settles into the cradle of Michael’s hips. He can feel Alex growing harder through the thick denim of their jeans and his heart hammers in his chest as Alex starts to move, inching close enough that he can feel the heat of Alex’s breath on his lips.

“Think you can settle for me fucking you afterward this time?” Alex murmurs.

Michael swallows roughly and nods, sliding his fingers through Alex’s silky hair.

“Yeah,” he answers breathlessly, his eyes trained on Alex’s mouth. “I think I can.”

***