#mavan

Neononbinary mav(ie) / mavan-✦

✦)being neononbinary and using the terms mav/mavie(left) or mavan(right, being a maverique neononbinary ect

Mav/mavie: maverique equivalent of girl/boy

Mavan: maverique equivalent of man/woman

Neononbinary agie / agan-✦

✦) being neononbinary and using the terms agie(left) or agan(right, being an agender neononbinary, being neogxnder and neononbinary ect

Agie/agy: agender equivalent of girl/boy

Agan: agender equivalent of man/woman

✦)Flags are based off of ryanyflags’ neononbinary girl/boy/enby flags, neononbinary combination with the term flags

She’d walked in 10 minutes earlier, flounced in really, and tossed her bag in the corner like she’d done it a million times. Michael had only been to Alex’s bunker once before. He could swear there were ghosts in the walls, it made him feel watched. Isobel, however, seemed comfortable as could be.

It irked him.

She was in yoga clothes, an old habit she’d picked back up since she found out her husband was a serial killer. He didn’t think she believed in all that zen bullshit but he wasn’t about to say anything about her new exercise kick. With Isobel you picked your battles.

She’d barely been there two minutes when Alex reached into his own duffel bag and tossed something in Isobel’s direction without even looking at her. She caught it with ease, wrinkled her nose. It looked like homemade trail mix, how very military.

“I can't deal with your hanger today. Yes, there’s M&M’s in there somewhere. Anyway, as I was saying…” Alex kept talking but Michael doesn’t hear it.

It’s a simple thing, so tiny and insignificant but all Michael can do is stare at the bag in Isobel’s hands. She flicked her fingers around inside, digging until she finds what she’s looking for. She held the chocolate between her thumb and forefinger, smirked at Alex before she popped it in her mouth.

The smile Alex gives her in response can only be described as fond, lips Michael once knew intimately pursed in amusement.

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that rolled around in his stomach, refused to acknowledge it. When Isobel held the bag out and Alex took a handful without looking up from the table Michael felt his whole body clench.

He humours you.

He was getting used to being in Alex’s space, not just his bunker, their unofficial place to discuss all things alien conspiracy, but near him. Close enough to feel the heat of his dark skin, breathe the same air. It doesn’t hurt anymore, at least not as much.

Maybe they would be friends after all.

That is until he walks in, sees Kyle laughing, Alex with a bemused expression on his face and Isobel hanging something on the wall.

When Michael read what it said he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“There. Now it’s more homey.” Isobel stood with her hands on her hips, glanced over at Michael with a small smile on her lips. It’s the first genuine one he’s seen in months.

Later when Alex and Michael are sitting at the screens, he leaned over, kept his voice low.

“Are you really going to leave that up?”

He shrugged, but Michael doesn’t miss the way the skin on Alex’s arm beside his prickled in goosebumps. It gave him a rush of warmth, a feeling of satisfaction he missed too much to admit.

“It makes her happy.”

And that seemed good enough for Alex.

When Michael walked out later he reads the words. He knows it’s a joke, but he can’t seem to laugh.

Bunker Sweet Bunker

He makes you smile.

Max was keeping a very close eye on his sister and Michael was along for the ride. Today was her wedding anniversary. No one mentions it, no one dared to, but they knew it would be a hard day for her. She wouldn’t admit it, because weakness was not a word in Isobel’s vocabulary. So instead Max was brooding, pouring Isobel wine in the middle of the day like this was some joyful alien family gathering and not them trying to make sure she doesn’t crack.

Michael knew that Isobel probably would have preferred to have Alex here. They were so chummy now it made his skin crawl. Another thing he hated to admit, he was jealous of her. It was something he was used to in a way. At least before all her walls came down, and he learned life for her wasn’t as easy as he liked to imagine.

Alex had been the one to ask Max, and therefore by association Michael, to look after Isobel today. The soldier and Kyle (who he would never admit to being envious of, even if you put a syringe of the cure in his arm) were gone on some secret fact finding mission. Michael didn’t know the details. Which was fine.

Let Isobel and Alex have their wine nights. Let Kyle be Alex’s right hand man. It didn’t bother Michael in the slightest.

You’re a miserable liar.

But Max was still hovering, and Isobel just kept sighing and rolling her eyes like she was the one doing them a favour.

The doorbell rang and Michael watched her jump to her feet, no doubt happy for a brief reprieve from their lame attempts at comfort. There had been a time when it was always just the three of them, even when they hated it. God, even when they resented it, at least they had each other. But as more people were let in, as more people were trusted, it blurred what they were to each other.

Michael hated the feeling.

Isobel came back into her living room practically skipping, a package in her hands. Max was instantly on edge, like it would contain a bomb or something. She liked to shop, Michael could only imagine what she’d purchased herself this time.

It wasn’t until he saw her chuckle as she read a card that he realized it was a gift. She placed it on the coffee table and hummed to herself as she used her thumbnail to break through the taped up box. He swiped the card and felt his stomach clench as he read the words inside, the handwriting a little too familiar.

If you’re going to be a widow, best do it right.

Sentiments, et cetera, don’t drink all the wine without me.

A.

Alex hadn’t even signed his full name, just the first letter. Because she would know who it was. Of course she would. It made Michael seethe.

He heard Isobel’s gasp of delight and watched as she unwrapped a black hat, satiny and classic, a small black veil in the front. To anyone else it would be in poor taste, but as she put it on her head and drew the wisp of a veil over her eyes she was positively beaming.

She looked like a vamp in a noir movie, the widow in fake mourning. It suited her, Michael could admit that. The radiant smile on her face filled him up, made him forget his earlier anger. Alex had given Isobel something, made the day easier. He couldn’t be anything but thankful, even it it was begrudgingly.

She ran to look in the mirror, preened at herself and then started rambling about something or other. Max gave Michael a confused look, he just shrugged in response.

He tried to not remember the times when Alex gave Michael exactly what he had needed, exactly when he had needed it.

He leans on you.

As soon as he read the text from Maria he’d gotten into his truck without thinking. When he’d seen her name he’d frozen for a second. They’d ended things a few weeks prior. No drama, no tears. They just weren’t it for each other. He loved her. He always would. Just not the way he was supposed to.

Then her words had him in motion, he had to get to Alex. He couldn’t be alone, not right now, even though Michael was sure he’d demand it and then tear himself up in the process.

It was still light out when he pulled his truck up Alex’s drive. He was stunned for a moment to see not just Kyle’s car but Isobel’s as well. He debated turning around, pretend he’d never come until he saw the front door open and Isobel stepped out onto the porch.

No going back now, so he climbed out, boots kicking up dust. Isobel offered him a small smile.

“Is he…” Michael didn’t know what to ask. Of course he wasn’t okay. Jesse Manes was dead and even if he was the devil incarnate he was still Alex’s dad.

“No, but he will be. Kyle and him are on the back deck grilling steaks.” She was still blocking his path, and Michael knew how to read a room. “We’re going to get him wasted and put him to bed.”

He nodded at her, he’d never felt like he didn’t belong before, not with Isobel. Never with Alex. It felt like being a ship adrift on the water, nowhere to go.

“I just thought he could use a friend.”

“He can, that’s why we’re here.” She wrapped her arms around herself, the way she always did when she’s about to hurt him. Especially when she doesn’t mean to. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

He doesn’t let her finish the sentence, it’s already too much. “Yeah, I get it.”

Instead he turned away, felt ridiculous for coming there in the first place.

“Michael.” It’s soft but he hears it. So he stopped, took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. “You’re more than that to him. So much more and he shouldn’t have to deal with that too. Not right now.”

He gave her a quick nod, because she has appointed herself Alex’s protector and he wants to thank her. Even if it meant keeping him away, Michael knows Alex is kept safe and loved. Even if it can’t be by him.

And whose decision was that?

The thought pounded in his head on repeat for the next three days.

He never stops.

It’s in the bunker, because of course it is. Just the two of them, Isobel’s stupid sign on the wall and a lab coat that no doubt belongs to Kyle thrown over a chair. They had been looking at something on the computer again, Michael leaned in too close as he tried to memorize everything he could.

He never gets to touch, not anymore, so his eyes are always hungry. It’s not sexual, at least not always, tonight he’s fascinated by the way Alex’s hair is in disarray. Frustrated hands running through it with every other click of the keyboard. Michael wants to replace them with his own, soothe the dark cloud Alex is giving off. Put fingers to tense shoulders and dig in.

He fights it, because that’s all he does around Alex anymore. Torture himself by looking and beat down the part of him that wants to do something about it.

Finally they gave up, Michael tried to make some stupid joke that failed miserably at being funny. Alex just lifts a corner of his mouth, like he appreciated Michael for even trying.

They both reach to grab Michael’s jacket at the same time, hands brushing for a moment, eyes locking in surprise.

With them, that’s all it takes. Match to gasoline and everything burns around them. Alex biting into his mouth, pushing him against the table, stealing his breath and his heart. He whimpered, because it’s them and he never thought he’d get this again. Wouldn’t let himself ask for it.

But the sound snapped Alex back to reality, made him lean away and fingers slipped from their grip in Michael’s hair. The sudden cold that slipped over him made his bones hurt.

“Michael, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“I love you.”

Alex stilled, hands squeezing hard where they rested on Michael’s arms. Alex doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. His face is awe struck, his eyes bright. They both know, they’ve always known, they’ve just never said it.

Why had they never just said it?

But this time maybe it isn’t enough, maybe it’s too late and they didn’t figure it out in time. Maybe he’d let Alex push him far enough away that Michael hadn’t found his way back in time. Maybe they’d…

Then Alex is on him again, just as intense, just as needy but gentle, almost reverent. He’s unbuttoning Michael’s shirt, brushing their noses together..

“I love you.” Michael can taste it on his tongue.

“I love you.” It hums through his blood.

“I love you.” It’s whispered into his mouth.