25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain

Alex has just worked his way between Michael’s thighs, pressing him gently into the pile of sleeping bags and blankets padding the hard metal of the bed of Michael’s truck, when he feels the first drops. He ignores them, too lost in the taste of Michael’s mouth and the soft, needy noises he makes as their hips rock together to care.

And then the sky opens up.

“Shit, shit,” Michael gasps, pushing Alex off of him as raindrops begin to soak into their clothes and the bedding beneath them.

Alex climbs off of him immediately and watches as Michael reaches for the tarp folded up at the other corner of the truck bed. He starts unfolding it as he stands up and jumps off the edge of the tailgate. Alex follows suit, hopping out of the truck as fast as he can.

“Quick, help me,“ Michael says, holding out one edge of the tarp to him.

Together, they secure the tarp over the bed of Michael’s truck, saving his bedding from the worst of it. By the time they make it into the cab of the truck, they’re both soaked to the bone and shivering, the only sound to be heard their labored breathing and the rain pelting against the roof of Michael’s truck.

As Michael gets the heat going on full blast, Alex flips down the sun visor to check his reflection in the mirror. His hair is a disaster, but at least his make up still looks good. He’ll have to thank Liz for the tip on waterproof mascara.

He’s running his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to fix it when he hears Michael start to laugh beside him.

“What?” he huffs, glancing at him sideways to see a fond grin on Michael’s face.

“You shouldn’t bother with that,” Michael says, leaning into Alex’s space and making his heart jump in his chest. His own curls are weighed down by the water slowly dripping from them and Alex follows the trail of a droplet down the side of his neck hungrily, itching for a taste. “I’m just gonna mess it up again.”

“Is that s—” Alex starts to ask, but Michael’s lips interrupt him, warm and still wet from the rain.

Alex sighs against Michael’s mouth and gives up on his hair in favor of pulling Michael closer, his fingers slipping against the smooth skin of his neck. True to his word, Michael threads his fingers through Alex’s hair as he kisses him, his grip tightening when Alex flicks his tongue against his bottom lip, but careful not to tug.

This is malex, obv. 

The movie ends and the credits start looping, but Alex doesn’t want to move to turn off the TV. The couch has turned into a giant blanket nest, surrounded by the softest couch cushions and pillows, and hand-knitted blankets Alex only ever uses for movie night. Next to him, Michael is a warm heavy weight on his shoulder, snuggled in close enough that they are almost lying on top of each other. 

Michael stirs a little, but doesn’t move his body too far away. “So uh,” he starts, staring at Alex with wide eyes. “Is it ok if I stay here tonight?” 

Alex smiles slowly, happy to have this back in his life. “Of course Michael, you know you never have to ask.” 

Michael swallows and shakes himself a little, but does finally sit up on the couch. His movements are a little sluggish, and Alex wills himself to not ogle openly. He pushes himself off the couch and goes to leave the den to dump their snacks into the kitchen. But a hand grabs at his wrist. He looks down to see Michael holding onto his wrist tightly, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. 

“Uh where -” Michael starts, visibly swallows, and then “where are you going Alex?”

Alex looks down at his hands full of snack containers, and looks up at Michael with confusion. “To the kitchen?”

Michael relaxes, shoulders drooping a little. “Ok good! I’ll go with you!” and sort of frog marches them both to the kitchen. Alex lets himself be led, long practiced in keeping up with Michael’s shifting moods. 

On the way back, Michael turns on every light in the house, and Alex can’t help but glare at him a little. 

“Guerin, that’s wasteful,” he says, turning around to turn off the hallway lights. Michael’s hand shoots out to stop him. 

“No!” he yells. 

Alex understands. 

“Guerin,” he starts, a smile of absolute delight growing on his face. “You’re not scared of the dark, are you?” 

Michael’s shifty look is enough of a response. “No,” he tries, but quickly changes his mind. “That was a scary movie!” 

Alex laughs outright now, slinging his arm around Michael’s shoulder, steering them back to the den. “Let’s watch a few episodes of Schitt’s Creek, you’ll feel better.”

“It’s a planet.”

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“As one of the foremost authorities on space stuff on this planet--”

“You don’t even remember being in space!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still more of an expert than you are.”

“Guerin.”

“Alex.”

“Guerin. They revoked Pluto’s status as a planet over a decade ago. You need to get over it already.”

“Listen. They can’t just un-planet-ify--”

“That’s not even a word.”

“--a planet! I mean, we spent our entire child- to young adulthood learning about the nine planets in our solar system. That’s not something that can just be forgotten!”

“Guerin.”

“And! And! If Pluto is no longer considered a planet, what is it my very excellent mother is just serving us nine of? Hmm? Hmm?”

“I think I heard one where you just shorten it to ‘my very excellent mother just served us noodles’.”

“Noodles? Are you kidding me? That is the dumbest--mph.”

“...”

“You’re not going to win this one by distracting me with kisses, okay? It’s not happening ag--mph.”

“What were you saying?”

“...I don’t remember.”

/

Alyssa! Thank you so much! You’re incredibly prolific, gifted, and kind! I love how you create content for so many different characters and ships and for so many different people in the fandom. It’s a joy to be in a fandom with you! Thank you for sharing your wonderfulness with all of us.

From still, there were mornings (chapter...idk, 4, probably)

“Here,” Michael appears at his side with a water canteen.

“Thanks,” Alex murmurs, rinsing out his mouth.

“You're sick.”

“It's nothing,” Alex says. Michael frowns. “I mean, it's not the flu or anything, I'm fine. Just something that comes and goes.” His hands are clammy, and he knows his temperature is rising again. He feels his cheeks heating up.

“Alex, I might not know much about how humans work, but even I know that's not normal. You don't just randomly start vomiting.”

Wow, thank you so much. This was so nice to read waking up this morning. I think everything you write is perfect so that makes this message even better!

What's this? I don't know. But I hope you like it.

Warnings include: Buffy Manes (meaning: warning for extreme cuteness or at least an attempt at that)

One of the things Alex loves most about winter is the snow. When he was a child, his mom would take him and his brothers out for skiing and riding sleighs; those are the memories he most cherishes from his childhood. He's missed it during his deployments, and now that he's back home he revels in the chill that zigzags up his spine when he gets outside the cabin, a bright orange ball in his hand, ready to play with Buffy in the snow that has begun to settled around the woods.

"Good girl," he says when Buffy brings back the ball for the first time, her paws tiptoeing on the snow carefully. It's her first time outside with so much cold; Alex can tell she’s excited about the novelty of it all, although Buffy growls a little when snowflakes start falling down on her head. "It's just snow, Buffy," he calms her. "You'll enjoy it, you'll see."

After a while outside, Alex is starting to freeze underneath his multiple layers — an undershirt, a thick wool sweater, a snow coat and gloves and beanie. He calls for Buffy, but his puppy is nowhere to be seen, having rushed after the ball into the woods. He becomes worried instantly; there are wild animals around and Buffy is still young. "Buffy!" he calls for her, and only breathes again when the beagle shows up again from the line of trees, no orange ball in sight.

She reaches him, tail wiggling happily and a filthy stick between her teeth. Alex crouches to pet her head, loosening the stick from her grip and trying to throw it away. Buffy growls lowly, and turns around to pick the stick once again, placing it on the ground close to Alex's foot, her snout nudging his leg. He frowns, pointing at the stick. "For me?" he asks, feeling silly for talking to a dog and expecting her to reply.

Buffy barks happily, her tail moving quickly as she looks up at him. "Uh," he starts, picking the stick and watching closely as Buffy follows his every move. He twirls it between his fingers, less and less confused. His foot is digging into the snow, his prosthesis soaking up, and he's sure he's never been happier.

I am a very shallow person.

I think he is handsome, I appreciate his hard-earned abs and want the character he plays on television to make my favorite character happy.