#kyle brotp

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Kyle liked to think that of all his friends, both human and otherwise, he was the one who possessed the most common sense. He wasn’t the smartest, or the strongest, or the tallest, but common sense was severely lacking in their group so he was proud to claim that title.

Common sense that tumbled right out of his head to reveal the instincts of an eight year old the moment he was around Alex.

That was the only explanation why they’d both poked at a shiny, unidentified, rock that linked them telepathically. Or rather, linked Alex to Kyle telepathically and he could now read every thought that passed through Alex’s brain.

Liz had gone all mad scientist when they filled her in, dragging them to their newest secret hideout (another one thanks to Alex and his apparently limitless resource of creepy government facilities) and performing tests on them for hours, none of which had lead them to a solution.

It was fine, they could wait, it wasn’t like anyone was dying or having their brain liquified.

Until of course, Guerin came looking for Alex and immediately Kyle wanted to stick a pen into his ear.

"No!" Kyle yelled, when a whole slew of thoughts started pouring out of Alex the moment he saw Guerin. “Stop that right now! I don’t want to know about your sex life!”

“Why would you say that!” Alex flailed his arms, a distressed look on his face. "It's like when you tell someone not to think about an elephant. It becomes all they think about!"

"Then think about elephants!” Kyle yelled louder hoping it would drown out the dontthinkaboutwhatyoudidintheshower dontthinkaboutlastnight dontthinkaboutguerinsass that was running through Alex’s head in big flashing neon lights.

Liz turned to Guerin, “Maybe you should leave before Alex starts thinking about you and elephant trunks."

OHMYGODWHYWOULDYOUSAYTHAT

Kyle rubbed the bridge of his nose thankful that whatever connected Alex’s mind to his wasn’t transmitting images.

"I'm not leaving Alex. I don't care if you start bleeding out of your ears, Valenti." Guerin said, leaning against the wall, hands thrust into his pockets like a goddamned cowboy in a calendar shoot.

donthinkaboutcowboys dontthinkaboutMichaelwearingnothingbuthishat

“ALEX!” Kyle shouted.

Alex grimaced at Guerin miserably. "It really would be better if you were somewhere I can’t see you.”

"I'll be right outside the door," Michael conceded.

“Please tell us you found a cure.”

“I did not,” Liz said with a sympathetic smile, “On the bright side, with the way this substance is degrading you should be back to normal in an hour or two.”

“Great. You can go that long without thinking about Guerin’s ass can’t you?” Kyle teased Alex who gave him a glare reminiscent of high school.

Michael has a great ass. I mean, if you compare it to Max’s ass which is-- 

Flint should be okay. He’ll live to become the new Jesse Manes. 

To make up for not realizing it’s supposed to be Day 2 and not Day 1 here’s a snippet of the Rockstar AU I’m still working on. 

It features Malex, Kylex brotp and all the found family feels I can stuff into it.

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Alex was becoming one with the couch. It was a good one as far as couches went. Soft enough to feel comfortable, but not so soft it felt like the cushions would swallow him whole. Deep enough to recline in, but not so deep it lacked back support.  

This couch was a good couch.  

Not that he was picky. After waking up in the middle of the night with a wasted Kyle pounding on his door, mumbling incoherently about a phone call, then proceeding to pass out on Alex’s bed, any flat surface was good for a nap.  

Even if said surface was in a suite where his friends were in the clutches of hairdressers and make-up artists.  

“How is it that we’ve spent three hours getting ready for this thing,” Rosa grumbled. “We’re only going to be there for an hour and a half."  

Alex, knowing he’d be crucified, wisely didn’t mention that he'd also taken a nap while the others were getting ready. He and Kyle had a free night to themselves, the others were going to a Women of something or other gala. It was a good cause, but Alex far preferred his monkey pajamas over a monkey suit.  

Other people – people who still hadn’t told him why Alex had to be on make-sure-his-best-friend-doesn’t-choke-on-his-own-vomit duty – didn’t have the same sense of self-preservation.  

“Three hours?” Kyle asked, “It’s not the MET gala, you know.”  

“Shut up or I’m going to stab you with this thing in my hair,” Rosa growled, startling the person who was inserting said pointy accessory into her bun.  

“Sadie did give us an option of not going.”  

“Followed by a guilt-trip on how this group has been lobbying to fund stem cell research. Liz would have dragged us by the hair.”  

“It’s true,” Liz replied in between putting on lipstick.  

“You are way too chipper considering you haven’t been doing the dirty with Max Evans yet,” Maria groused.  

“Who said I wasn’t?” Liz shot back, her now ruby red lips stretched into a mischievous smile. “Or at least I will be soon.”  

A loud retching noise came from Kyle. “That’s it. Alex and I are leaving you in this torture chamber.”  

Alex groaned as Kyle pulled him up. He glanced back longingly at the couch as Kyle marched them out the door.  

“I wasn’t the one who started it,” he whined. “Why am I being punished?”  

“Who knows when I’m doing my interview with Evans? I can’t listen to that and look him in the face,” Kyle scrubbed a hand through his beard. “I’m not even sure I should do it. What if Rosa’s right and he can Jedi mind-trick us into talking about our deep dark secrets?”