Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nothing in Alex’s life had ever been simple.

Just when he believed a slate had been wiped clean, it got messy again. And when one horrible door closed, a window in the corner cracked open and blew the same familiar breeze in. Alex didn’t know if he could ever escape the complexity that is life in Roswell.

His father was dead. Therefore, he should’ve been letting the past go. He had a personal breakthrough, performing an emotional song in public confirming his identity and then kissing another man, fully comfortable in his own skin. Therefore, he should be happy.

And yet. Alex was nursing a beer at that same bar, preparing not only to say goodbye to his sort-of non-exclusive boyfriend for an extended period of time, but also carefully tiptoeing around the guy whom his song was written about.

As Alex navigated the ever-present crowd of friends and blaring sounds of the bar, he found himself at times awkwardly at a loss of what to say and how to act around Michael Guerin. Alex was seriously conflicted. He simultaneously wanted to be as close as possible to the alluring man with his intoxicating alien scent and his infectious smile, and also wanted to avoid the distracting man who had previously pushed him away at all costs.

This was a little last-minute get-together before Alex planned to set off on his cross-country mission to dismantle Project Shepherd’s records, satellite sites and allied personnel. Yet another contradiction. In order to help Michael, he must leave him. Again.

The alcohol was bitter and shocked his system enough to turn him away from tempting thoughts. At some point, Alex had to admit to himself that he couldn’t help it. He would always be pulled toward Michael Guerin.

But when the man in question hadn’t shown any sign of reaching out, especially after such intense events surrounding CrashCon, Alex was left in the middle of a crossroads between wanting to talk to him and not wanting to push too much.

The Wild Pony was alight with lively music, friendly conversation, well-wishes and plenty of tequila. Rather than obsess over Michael, who looked far too attractive in his big black cowboy hat, Alex tried to amuse himself by chatting with Isobel about her new same-sex situation-ship. He did his best to act supportive of her as he could tell this was new for her and she seemed nervous but excited to be exploring.

A warm feeling bloomed in his chest as he encouraged her, silently relating to the rush of affection that could come from discovering something arousing you’ve never experienced before. Memories of that summer with Michael came unbidden into his mind and he tried to change his blushing smile into a cheeky grin.

As he downed his beer, he turned around and tried to judge his intoxication against the other guys here. If Kyle, Max, and Greg looked like they were more far gone then Alex, then he would debate on having another. A part of him wanted to maintain a certain level of sobriety. However, another part couldn’t help but slide his gaze over Michael who not only could hold his liquor but also tended to act more drunk than he was. Just knowing that about him and thinking about it made him want to chug another one down.

Eventually, the conversation turned toward the reason they were here and everyone started wishing Alex good luck on his trip. Humbly accepting their well-wishes and redirecting toward humor, Alex said, “I’m sure you guys are more than capable of holding down the fort if anything crazy happens.”

Kyle scoffed as he brought a beer bottle to his lips, “It’s Roswell, something crazy is bound to happen.”

Chuckling, Alex raised his own drink in salute, “Then, we should enjoy this down time while it lasts.”

“Here, here!” Isobel exclaimed from her perch on a barstool. Beside her Max seemed to share in the sentiment and took a swig of his beer.

Sighing from the other side of the bar counter, Maria said, “I, for one, am glad to take a pause from alien drama.”

Alex nodded his head toward his her. Despite the bumpy road their friendship had taken in the recent months, Alex was glad that she had learned more about her family history even if it had been difficult. Knowing how much stress her mother caused her, he was glad she was forging a new connection with Isobel. Even though they continued to bicker like sisters, Alex could tell the girls were growing closer, albeit slowly.

Part of the reason he was happy to see her getting along with Isobel was that he and Liz both were not going to be around much, since Liz took a fancy job in L.A. after breaking up with Max. In addition, Maria and Alex’s relationship hadn’t gotten back to where it had been before she had started seeing Michael behind his back. They were still on pretty good terms, though, considering. He murmured his agreement to her statement nonetheless.

A voice chirped behind him, “You probably can’t wait to get the hell outta this town. After everything that happened recently.” A familiar scent of rain told Alex exactly who it was. Alex felt a tingling where Michael was leaning over his shoulder.

Sucking in a breath, Alex turned to see the alien with a charming grin, standing a little too close for Alex to pretend he wasn’t affected. “Um, yeah that will be nice. To- to get outta town for a while.”

Michael seemed completely oblivious as Alex was uncomfortably yearning for him to get closer. Alex cleared his throat. Kyle, unfortunately, noticed and made a face as he snorted softly so Alex could hear it but Michael didn’t.

Luckily, Alex didn’t need to figure out what to say next because the conversation shifted to how far one would have to travel to get away from Roswell drama. Greg brought up the point that anywhere in New Mexico wasn’t far enough. Isobel made a comment about alien research continuing in L.A. and tried, but not too hard, to avoid saying Liz’s name, while eyeing Max teasingly.

Putting on a jovial smile, Alex laughed along, but distractedly made his way toward Kyle. After catching his eye, Kyle turned his body away from the group conversation. To his credit, Kyle didn’t immediately start commenting on what he saw or joking, but nonchalantly asked how Alex was doing, to which Alex gave an evasive non-answer.

Fidgeting with his empty drink, Alex managed to fumble his way through some light chatting. At this point, they had migrated far enough away from the group that none of the others could hear what they were talking about. With an opportunity presenting itself, the pressure in his chest built up to the point where he couldn’t not say, “You think Michael is glad I’m leaving town?”

Kyle immediately faced him, with a questioning look.

“I-I mean the way he was talking…”

Kyle pretended to think about what Alex had said, complete with scrunched eyes and an exaggerated tilted head. “The way he was talking?… You mean like he sees you as a friend and only a friend and wants you to take some much needed space away from painful memories?” His sarcasm felt a little harsh, but Alex reflected that it was probably warranted.

Alex sighed and leaned against the bar counter. “Yeah, maybe. I just thought he might mention…open mic night. Michael came to the bar that night and heard my song but then left. He knew it was about him, but he hasn’t said anything to me. I don’t know if that means he was embarrassed by it, if he hated it, if he wants to forget he heard it…”

“Dude, forget about him,” Kyle started ranting. “If he hasn’t shown any interest in discussing it or getting back together– especially after he broke up with Maria– then move on. Go on your trip. Enjoy your fling with Forrest!”

Alex almost wanted to roll his eyes at his characterization of his relationship with Forrest Long. Alex really didn’t know how he would describe it himself. Whatever it was, it was still new. And they had enjoyed their time together. Alex really admired him and thought he was hot, funny, and a good kisser.

And yet, there was still a divide between them, mostly because of things Alex couldn’t tell him, and therefore prevented him from getting closer. Or maybe that was Alex just making excuses to avoid a deeper connection. He really wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that he liked him. And probably wanted to see more of him. But, the reason why he wasn’t here at this bar tonight, seeing him off, was because Alex couldn’t be honest with him about where he was going or how long he’d be gone or even that it wasn’t an official mission from the Air Force.

Maybe this thing with Forrest could turn into something. But only if Alex allowed it to. The question was: Was Alex ready to allow it?

If anyone understood the need to grow and move on from the past, it was Kyle.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe you’re right,” he mumbled.

“Of course I’m right,” Kyle said, confidently. “And Guerin was also right that a little time away from this town might be good for you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Alex shrugged.

As Alex slowly rejoined the rest of their friends, he tried to put hope and yearning for Michael Guerin into perspective. The alien was happy to drink and joke with everyone, forgetting all of the horrors from the past few months. He deserved to be free of stress for a while.

And so did Alex. So did they all. Even if they all needed a little space in order to deal with and process the heavy things surrounding them, perhaps it would be worth it. He wouldn’t be gone forever. And when he returned, things would be different.

A new chapter might be good for him. So, Alex decided to allow himself to enjoy his last night in Roswell for a while.

___

Michael didn’t have a birthday.

Although, oddly, he never felt like he was missing something. Sure, watching others celebrate their birthday brought on a kind of listfulness. And skirting around awkward non-answers when someone would ask him when his birthday was or what his astrology sign was never felt super comfortable.

But it’s not like he would’ve had the funds or the friends to really celebrate anyway. Michael didn’t need a birthday. So, he wasn’t upset that he didn’t know what his was.

He supposed at some point, he would’ve had to have been born. But that must’ve happened on his home planet. And he would likely never know under what cycle of the earthly moon that had happened under.

Although he wasn’t born on Earth, he was hatched out of a pod. So, instead of a birthday, he supposed he had a “hatch” day.

As a kid, he remembered that date. It used to haunt him, every year bringing up so many questions about where he was from, why he was here and when his real family would come for him. The only bright side was that as kids, Max and Isobel used to celebrate the date with him.

It was never anything fancy. A picnic, a hiking trip, a sleepover, a dinner, a campout, or some other way the three of them would mark the occasion. Michael always cherished those get-togethers, even though as they got older, it might’ve seemed less cool to celebrate a sort-of birthday. But it made him feel a part of something, and reminded him he wasn’t alone.

It had been fifteen years since the three of them had celebrated together like that. Looking back on it now, Michael shuddered as he recalled the campout in the summer of 2004.

What used to be a tradition turned into a tragedy none of them wanted to remember.

For whatever reason, this year, it just felt right to bring that tradition back. Perhaps it was that last year the mystery of what happened with Isobel had been solved. Maybe it was that all three of them felt more connected to their powers and their pasts than ever before. It could simply be that the three of them had gotten closer, bonded, and had become as interconnected as they had felt as teens.

Michael can’t remember who had suggested it. It might’ve been him or it might’ve been Isobel. All he knew was that he was so grateful to have his siblings in his life and that they were finally in a good place where they could be happy together, and do something as normal and as joyful as celebrating a birthday.

Since Isobel was in the process of getting rid of all her husband’s stuff and selling her house to move someplace new, Max was hosting this little get-together.

Similar to when they were kids, they weren’t making a huge fuss. Isobel had insisted they get each other gifts. Max was providing food for a small barbeque. Michael had made a very simple taco dip with cheese, spicy salsa, sour cream and lots of corn chips. And Isobel was bringing a cake she said would be “super cute.”

When Michael arrived, he used his telekinetic powers to float the gifts inside while his hands secured the dip and bags of chips.

Inside, Isobel waved him over and encouraged him to place the gifts in the pile over at the coffee table. As Michael looked down, he exclaimed, “I thought we agreed only one gift per person. What’s all this?”

Max sighed. “Apparently other people got wind of our little celebration. So, they sent stuff over.” He looked like he was also not a fan of the outpouring of birthday attention. Michael couldn’t blame him.

Isobel, the other hand, was elated. “Maria sent me over with bottles of booze for all to share. Rosa packaged some homemade stuff, I think. And there’s a few boxes from other people too.”

Rolling his eyes, Michael, placed his gift bags down with a plop and then carefully brought the dip dish over to the kitchen counter.

His eyes wandered back over to the pile of gifts and suspected that Max might be feeling the loss of his girlfriend today more than other days. Maybe he had secretly hoped Liz had sent a package. It had been over six months since Liz had left, but Michael could still tell Max was trying and failing to forget and move on. Even if he adopted a blasé attitude, complete with a desire to have more flings and one-night stands, Michael knew it was all an act to keep from thinking about Liz.

It was a dance that Michael knew all too well. He had taken on that persona and attitude for practically ten years when Alex had been gone. Glancing away from the gifts, Michael tried not to think about the possibility that if Alex was in town, he might’ve been one of the people who had sent one.

He tried not to think about the last time he’d seen Alex. It had been at The Wild Pony, at a sort of send off when Alex had left town on a mission to permanently shut down Project Shepherd. It was hard, he remembered not to think about the previous time he’d seen Alex at the bar, performing a sentimental and tender song, singing about his relationship with Michael. He did recall a lot of alcohol that night, not only to keep himself from getting so overwhelmed in that memory that he made a move when it had probably been too soon, but also from getting emotional over the prospect of missing Alex after he would leave.

Michael hadn’t expected him to be gone so long, and yet, the airman still hadn’t returned.

In an effort to keep communication open and sustain their delicate friendship– if one could call it that– Michael had texted him a few times, just checking in. Alex always responded, if not right away, then promptly whenever he could. From the tone of his messages, he seemed grateful for the connection, to keep up with things and people in Roswell, and to ask about Michael, personally.

As glad as Michael was every time Alex sent a message, he didn’t think it meant anything beyond that. Not that Michael had been hoping, but he figured that eventually when he came back, things might be different between them. And yet, right now, they were kind of stuck in a platonic limbo.

“Alright, well, the acetone margaritas are just about ready,” Max announced, leaning over a pitcher.

“Beautiful!” Isobel crooned. “How about I slice up some limes and pour them into proper glasses? I’ll make ‘em all pretty.”

“While you do that, I can start firing up the grill,” Max nodded, reaching for the tray of meat.

“I can help with that,” Michael offered.

“Yeah?” Isobel giggled. “The men are gonna ‘man’ the grill?”

Max adopted the air and diction of a caveman, holding up a spatula. “We are men. Men make fire.”

Although he snorted, Michael added to the joke, saying, “Men make barbeque good!”

“Yeah yeah, get going, then,” Isobel spat as she reached for large margarita glasses and started laying them out.

The guys laughed and dutifully turned toward the door. Michael felt an ease in his chest, a lightness that was new but so welcome as he helped Max carry out the trays.

They lounged outside and munched on the dip until the food was ready. The drinks were top notch, and contained just enough alien-soothing acetone. Then, they ate together, watching the sun go down, just enjoying each other’s company in the early summer evening.

Later, when they made their way back inside, Isobel complained, “Max, seriously, I need this margarita recipe.”

Max scoffed. “Hey, it took me a while to perfect that. Maybe for now, I’ll keep it to myself.”

“Not fair!” his sister whined.

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment, Max,” Michael chimed in, making Isobel chuckle. “It’s our hatch day for crying out loud!”

He plopped down on the sofa and downed the rest of his glass, watching in amusement as Isobel continued trying to bribe him into giving it up. Eventually, she relented and turned her attention to the gifts.

Gift-giving and receiving definitely wasn’t something Michael was very familiar with. He never had a family that did those kinds of traditions. And even with Max and Isobel over the years, it had never been that formal. He never had much cash to spend on gifts for others, so the whole reciprocation thing was always a balancing act.

Today, however, he was able to enjoy the small but meaningful gifts between the three of them. Isobel was excited about getting a game of Scrabble, which apparently used to be a favorite of hers. Max opened a book about travel. Michael got something for his truck, which he pleasantly appreciated.

Once they got to opening some of the other ones from extended friends and family, Michael wasn’t expecting to open any more. So, he was surprised when Isobel chirped, “Michael this one’s yours.”

“What?” he said, leaning forward. She slid a brown box over to him. “Is this still in the mail package? Who’s this from?”

Max answered, “It was shipped here and has your name on it. Return label says Alex, actually… don’t remember where he sent it from, though.”

His heart skipping at the news, Michael bent to look closely. “Yeah, you’re right.” He read, “Alex Manes. Sent from somewhere in Virginia.”

He couldn’t believe it. Alex wasn’t there but he could still make him feel like the world was spinning, in a good way. Could this be real? Alex, the only person he’d ever loved, had sent him a gift for his birthday?

Taking a deep breath, but still reeling, Michael began to tear the seemingly industrial strength tape off of the box. Inside was a protective layer that was also taped together tightly. Underneath, laying cushioned securely at the bottom, was a small, but iridescent, unmistakable piece of glass.

Michael’s eyes widened as he gently lifted it up, feeling the cool surface against his warm skin. As it caught the light, it shimmered, confirming what Michael already knew, that it was a fragment of alien glass.

It was incredibly small, fitting in the palm of his hand, although the transport box was much larger. Michael reflected that it was one of the smaller pieces that he had come across in his search. Unlike his console, this piece glowed orange. He doubted it would fit, but it still had the characteristics and the markings of an artifact from his home planet.

His mind whirling, he concluded that Alex must’ve recovered it from one of the sites he shut down. Rather than destroy it, like Alex had been doing with other reports and random artifacts he discovered, he must have carefully and reverently packaged it and sent it to Roswell. It was so tiny, so insignificant. And yet, Alex had known that it would’ve been significant to Michael.

“Oh my good, Michael,” Max exclaimed, upon getting a good look at what had Michael so transfixed.

“This is amazing,” Michael whispered, still examining it wonder.

“Where did that come from?” Isobel wondered, scooting next to him on the couch, trying to get a closer look.

Taking a break from staring at the fragment, Michael looked up to his siblings and shared his theory. He checked again inside the box and confirmed that there was no note. So, Alex must’ve assumed it would be self-explanatory.

“Oh, wow, it’s so pretty,” Isobel exclaimed.

“I can’t believe he did this.” Max was shaking his head in disbelief. Michael had to agree that it was incredible that Alex had found something, taken the care to preserve it and sent it to him as a “hatch” day present.

“I can,” Isobel countered. “Remember the song.”

Michael froze, his palm tightening around the glass. Max glanced at him with his lip curled in a giddy, teasing expression.

Sighing dramatically, Michael gently put the piece back into its protective cushioning and said, “Ugh, not this again.”

“What do you mean, ‘not this again’? Max spat, arms wide. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about the love song another man painstakingly wrote for you and emotionally performed at an open mic night in a packed bar?”

“How could he forget it?” Isobel added, a gleeful smile spreading across her face. “It’s clearly always on his mind, given how often it comes up in our mindscapes.”

As his siblings started chuckling, Michael groaned and muttered, “You’ve both had too much to drink tonight.”

Isobel instantly protested, “We haven’t even drunk as much as we did the last time we all fell into a mindscape!”

Michael rolled his eyes and argued, “With that much tequila, it’s no wonder you were able to push into some seriously personal memories.”

Wistfully, Max said, “But so worth it…what a beautiful song…what a beautiful message.”

A red flush was creeping its way up Michael’s neck and he could feel himself getting hot. And he knew it wasn’t the margaritas. Clearing his throat, he tried to forget the several times that Michael’s control had slipped and Isobel’s mind palace shenanigans had replayed that memory of him staring at Alex in The Wild Pony as he sang that song, which Max had dubbed the “Come Home” song.

Michael wasn’t sure what exactly Alex had titled it, but since it was the last line of what he believed was the chorus, he thought Max had a good guess. And it seemed that part of how Max was coping with losing his girlfriend was teasing Michael about Alex.

So far, it had already gotten old.

“Oh, man,” Max continued, “as much as you’ve been pining for him, clearly he’s pining for you too.”

With a snort, Michael retorted, “That’s not what this means.” He flicked his wrist over the box that held the glass. “He just knows I collect these pieces. He’s nice and thoughtful.”

“And totally in love with you,” Isobel added, matter-of-factly.

Tipping his head back, Michael moaned. It seemed the gift-opening portion of the evening was over and the ‘making fun of Michael’ portion had begun.

“I haven’t seen him in months,” Michael said, trying to argue in order to keep that dreaded hope from burning his insides alive. “He didn’t even send a note with this or tell me he was shipping something. It- it might’ve been a last-minute thing he didn’t even think about…”

“But did you tell him about our hatch-day celebration?” Max asked, an eyebrow raised. Michael bit his lip and didn’t answer. He did recall on one of their text exchanges mentioning their little party commemorating their first day on this earth as a coded joke. “Alex sent this so it would be here today so he probably cared enough to make this something special for you…”

“It doesn’t even matter the logistics,” Isobel urged. “This just showed how he knows you and it is like- a symbol- of the lengths he’s going to for you. I mean, you really think he’s been traveling around the country for mine and Max’s sakes? No, he’s doing it to protect you!”

Michael defended, “He’s doing it because of his messed up family and his dad–”

“Yeah, yeah, blah blah, Manes history whatever,” Isobel dismissed with a wave of her hand. “This gift proves how much he’s doing for you and how much he cares about you. You said it yourself; it was thoughtful and meaningful.”

“Well, yeah…” Michael admitted. Everything she was saying was hitting hard. It was like the reality of Alex’s motivations were slamming against his chest, making him re-think certain things and encounters. “He- he obviously cares.”

“And!” Max shouted. “Didn’t you say that words were not your strong suit? Like, neither of you were great with talking in your relationship? Well, this is clearly a gesture that says a lot!”

As Michael opened his mouth to say something, Isobel screamed out before he could. “That’s true! Oh, my god! He is showing you how he feels when he can’t say the words!”

“Exactly!” Max exclaimed excitedly.

Michael thought they were getting too excited. And this was clearly getting off the rails. He sucked in a breath and ran a hand over his face, trying to orient his conflicting feelings.

“He- he did express how he feels in words,” Michael mused, “in the song….”

“Soooo,” Isobel said, grinning wildly, “the song, plus this gift means he’s still completely into you and wants you back.”

“And you want him back too,” Max insisted, confidently. “You can’t lie in the mindscape! So, all you gotta do is make it happen, man.”

Michael sighed, resting his chin down on his chest. He couldn’t exactly refute that. But this all was feeling very overwhelming. This teasing was getting a little too real.

Sounding intrigued, Isobel exclaimed, “This is huge!”

“No it’s not,” Michael wheezed, trying not to inflate the situation so disappointment at his inevitable failure wouldn’t feel so crushing.

“Uh huh,” Isobel insisted, clearly enjoying his misery and denial, “I don’t think any of our lives are ever gonna be the same again.”

“I think it’s so great,” Max said, and his voice sounded more serious. The elation that the tequila gave him might’ve been wearing off. “You and Alex. Have you talked about getting back together?”

Dread bloomed in Michael’s chest. This was the main issue. Tugging a hand through his curls, he answered, “No. The last time we had a sort-of moment was when we were reading Tripp’s journal… and then a little eye contact when he was performing the song.”

“Yeah, we know about that,” Isobel scoffed, remembering the mindscape. “But you guys have been talking, right?” Michael nodded and Isobel seemed encouraged. “So, you said you needed to wait for the right time… that time might be just around the corner.”

Max shrugged, “Might be sooner than you think.”

Anticipation was bubbling up inside of his stomach. Michael couldn’t help the swelling of desire and longing. The more he stared at the alien glass and Alex’s name on the return address label, the more he began to convince himself that this could really be a possibility, and soon.

Gulping down emotions, he stuttered, “Well, what do you think? Do you think he wants to go out with me?”

Max snorted and leaned back in his seat. “Well, given that he’s desperately in love with you I don’t think he’d mind getting a cup of coffee.”

Shaking his head, Michael said out loud, “I can’t believe I might actually have a shot. I wish I could talk to him.”

Isobel brightened. “You know, he probably has his phone with him. You could call him. You know, thank him for the gift and then casually change the subject…”

Suddenly, his stomach twisted into knots. “Oh, no. I uh, I don’t know. Maybe I should wait until he comes back.”

Softly, Max promoted, “Well, when he does…what would you say to him?”

His nerves somehow migrated to his hands, causing them to jerk and spasm no matter how tight Michael wrang them together. “I don’t know. Maybe I'll know the right words when I see him again.”

“Here,” Isobel said, grabbing her phone and scrolling for a few moments. When she found what she was looking for she turned her screen towards Michael, who saw that she had pulled up a picture of Alex from someone’s social media account. “Does this help?”

Even though having a visual of Alex’s gorgeous face made his pulse quicken, Michael deadpanned, “No.”

While Isobel giggled, Max tried to keep pushing the real issue, asking, “So, you’re gonna go for it, right?”

At the honest question, Michael let go of some of the tension and let the hope spill out of him. “My gut feeling is that if we can make this work, it could be really great.”

That level of vulnerability probably wouldn’t have been possible with anyone else besides his siblings, his alien family. And even a year ago, he might not have felt comfortable admitting his deepest longings and dreams. But despite the teasing, he felt their support and their love.

“Yes!” his sister squealed. “This is so exciting. And you know the best part is that you already know everything about him. There’s no awkward getting-to-know-you stuff. You can skip all that. It’ll be like starting on the 15th date.”

After a pause, Max added, “Yeah… but it’d be like starting on the 15th date.”

Isobel blinked and then leaned on the sarcasm, saying, “Another good point.”

Huffing, Max leaned forward, explaining, “I mean think about it. It might start out really serious. And you’d already be in a real relationship-y place.”

“Huh,” Michael murmured. His brother was actually bringing up a valid point. That would probably end up being a lot of pressure. Could Michael handle that? Was his and Alex’s relationship strong enough to handle that?

“And what if it doesn’t work out?” Michael muttered.

As if offended by the insinuation, Isobel demanded, “Why isn’t it working out?”

Michael carefully added, “Sometimes it doesn’t,” letting his fears have their turn at the wheel.

Isobel turned to face Michael, as serious as an interrogation. “Is he not cute enough for you? Does he not make enough money?”

Confused at why she was acting like those petty questions could possibly factor into this, Michael vehemently denied them. “No.”

“Maybe there’s someone else,” Max mumbled, suggestively.

Gasping in mild shock, Isobel shot a questioning look at Michael. “Is there?! Are you still hung up on Maria?”

“What? No, of course not,” he insisted and meant it. “There’s no one else.”

“Then why are you giving up on this relationship before it even starts?”

Michael balked at Isobel’s question. She hit the nail on the head. That was what he was doing, wasn’t it?

Those old habits were hard to break, it seemed. He wasn’t running away, but his mind had already started planting doubts that this could work out. So, subconsciously Michael might’ve been sabotaging it or already letting go so as not to be too heartbroken when it fell apart.

But, that’s not what he wanted to do. He was a different person now. He had grown a lot over the course of this past year, or at least it felt like he had.

Out loud, he finally said, “I’m not gonna do that. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

After a couple more remarks from his nosy siblings, they dropped the subject and began to clear away the mess to make room for the cake.

Michael was able to enjoy the dessert and the rest of the evening with a promising lightness in his chest. A hope that dared not rear its ugly head before being absolutely certain it wouldn’t get smashed started to shake off its shyness.

As much as he enjoyed indulging himself that evening, Michael made a silent vow. Starting on this hatch day, marking a new year on this planet, Michael would live his life as someone worthy of one day having Alex Manes.

He would drink less, and he would focus on being a better person. He wouldn’t obsess over his failings or the crappy cards he’d been dealt, but look to more positive things. He’d take care of the people who mattered, like Alex, and his alien siblings whom he shared a hatch day with.

Chapter Text

Michael chugged down another beer as the sun began setting, plummeting The Wild Pony outdoor patio into dimness. It had been a while since Max had left, so it wasn’t like their competition was still underway, but it helped settle his nerves in any case.

Isobel, unfortunately, was still giving him a suspicious glare. She had been eyeing him warily since their mindscape was cut short by Max’s avoidant spark of power. Micheal tried to avoid her as he felt she was projecting her worries and concerns about Max’s behavior onto him.

She had already called him out on being nervous about Alex returning. Really, Michael had had enough of those truth exercises between their minds.

The Wild Pony outdoor patio was lively, full of great music from a decent band and easy-to-grab drinks. The late fall weather was still not cold yet. Michael was content to stay outside in his thick sweater and black cowboy hat, just chilling.

The sun went down early since it was almost the winter months, though, and Michael was getting lost in the soft lights lining the area, which allowed a certain level of anonymity and discreetness. To his dismay, his maneuvers and conversations with the bargoers were not missed by his hawk-eyed sister.

Eventually, after Isobel had helped out Maria inside at the bar for a decent amount of time, she managed to corner him. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Michael said, shrugging. “Enjoying my night off.”

“Shouldn’t you be calling it a night?” she said, pushing her nose toward him. Michael could practically feel her judgemental tone brushing against his skin.

“I’m good,” he said, dismissively.

Scoffing, she finally got to her point. Nudging him in the arm, she said, “Hey, isn’t Alex's bus coming in tomorrow? At exactly 7:45am?”

Michael swallowed thickly. “Yes,” he responded. He bit his tongue to keep from adding something like “I think” or “I guess” or “Maybe.” The problem was Isobel wouldn’t buy it. He practically had Alex’s schedule memorized from his red eye departure to his estimated arrival at the Air Force base to the bus route leading into downtown.

“Um yeah, listen,” he said, shifting his weight between his feet. “I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe the whole me and Alex thing isn’t a good idea.”

“What? Why?” Isobel looked genuinely confused. He appreciated that it wasn’t in an angry or disappointed way but more out of concern.

“Because I feel like there would be all this pressure,” Michael said, voicing aloud what really had him paralyzed with fear.

Immediately, Isobel tried to counter. “What are you talking about? There’s no pressure! No pressure!”

Even just her saying that made the knot in his chest tighter. She was already invested in their relationship, thereby proving his point. “Nothing has even happened yet and I already feel like I’m screwing up. Maybe it’s just not our time yet.”

Her eyes bugged out in disbelief. “So, what? You’re just gonna give up and go hit on that girl Max was also hitting on?”

“Ugh, Iz, could you stop with the judgement?” he spat. “I’m working towards being a better person. But I don’t know if I’m ready. There are secrets that I’m keeping again…for good reason.” He added that last part at Isobel’s warning look. The Max look-alike in the cave was like a pendulum swinging above their heads, just waiting to fall on them if they made the wrong move. Michael’s hesitance to find a way to deal with it landed in the same sort of reasoning as his delaying talking to Alex, that he wasn’t ready.

The problem was, with Alex, he didn’t know if he’d ever feel ready to put himself out there and be that vulnerable.

Quickly, he tried to put this into words, “It’s too soon after not seeing him for a long time. If it’s not right, then I could ruin it. I just—”

“Yeah,” Isobel interrupted, rolling her eyes. “You don’t think you’re good enough. You’re scared you’ll screw it up. Classic Michael, self-sabotage, I get it. Enjoy these meaningless flirtations while you drink yourself into a hangover that keeps you from the chance for the real thing in the morning.”

As she stomped away, Michael hung his head. This time he felt the disappointment in her voice. Taking another swig of his drink, Michael tried to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

Most of his life, he had dove headfirst into some really impulsive decisions. He was the king of rash actions that had led to irreversible consequences. Why was it suddenly a bad thing that he was being cautious?

Shaking off the doubts, Michael knew the best play here was to play it cool and casual. If he and Alex were meant to be, then he would let it happen. Once Alex was back in town, there would be more opportunities for them to get closer and to rediscover where they both were at.

A while later, Michael found himself at the bar, distracting himself by chatting up a girl. She was talking quite animatedly about… something. Michael tried to listen, but he had over the years perfected his charming, yet aloof expression, so it was easy to zone out.

Suddenly, a vision of Alex popped up and in Michael’s mind’s eye, he was picturing the tall dark and handsome man leaning an elbow on the bar counter. Michael blinked and cursed his alcohol-ridden brain. He must’ve been more conflicted about Alex coming home than he’d thought if his subconscious was placing an image directly next to this light-haired woman as if he was comparing them side by side.

As the woman was talking, gesturing wildly with her hands, Alex– well, the vision of Alex– was staring at her, as if he was scrutinizing her. Then, he opened his mouth and said derisively, “This girl? I can’t believe you’d rather spend your time with someone like her than me.”

It was his voice, unmistakably. But, Michael had the self-awareness to realize it was definitely all in his head. He wasn’t hallucinating. He wasn’t drunk enough for that. This was just what Michael thought Alex would say if he was here.

Alex usually wasn’t so bold, but he wasn’t averse to teasing and mocking either. Michael, chastising his own subconscious, said to the figment of Alex, “Do you mind? I’m trying to have a conversation here.”

Straightening, the vision of Alex raised his dark eyebrows and challenged, “Alright. Then, stop thinking about me.” His long gorgeous body moved closer. Michael’s mind filled in all of the details of what that would look like, smell like, and feel like. He definitely wasn’t looking straight at the girl anymore. “Can’t do it can you?” Alex said, smirking.

“Okay, fine. I’m thinking about you. So what?” Michael spat. He couldn’t believe he was arguing with a figment of his imagination.

“What do you even see in this girl?” Alex shook his head as he turned to her again. Compared to Alex, she seemed shallow, flakey and far too absorbed with herself. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Michael didn’t really know her. Although, next to Alex anyone looked subpar.

“Girls like her are easy,” Michael responded, shrugging. Alex snorted, seemingly amused at the innuendo. Michael rolled his eyes. Of course Alex went there. He clarified, “I mean it’s not complicated.”

“It’s not complicated because it doesn’t mean anything,” Alex said, logically. “Come on, Guerin. Why not give us a chance?”

Michael groaned. “I can’t. I can’t, Alex. It’s too hard.”

“Why?” Alex pushed into his space once again. This time it was harder to pretend he wasn’t taking up most of his line of vision. Even though he wasn’t real, Michael felt his body react to the idea of Alex so close. “Because you’re afraid it won’t work out? Is that really worth not trying and giving up what we have? I mean, come on, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

His words were pretty convincing. Michael felt his jaw tremble as he replied, “Alex, if I screw up and I lose you…”

“Whoa, why would you assume you’d screw up?” he asked, softly.

“Has there ever been anything about relationships that I haven't screwed up?”

Alex’s dark eyes shined, making him want to believe what he was saying. “There are a lot of things you’ve gotten right too, Michael. And even if something goes wrong, that’s bound to happen. Don’t you think we’ve both learned from our experiences and can work through anything that goes wrong? Besides, you and I both know, we are perfect together. So the only question is… are you ready for me?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said, honestly, and felt the rawness of the truth leave his throat.

“Well, get ready.” Following those tantalizing flirtatious eyebrows and that warning, Alex leaned forward and kissed Michael right on the mouth.

God, it had been a long time since he’d felt those lips on his. He leaned into Alex’s familiar scent, tasted his sweetness on his tongue, and brushed his lips against his delicious scruff. It was soft and gentle, and yet sensual and stimulated every nerve ending in his body.

When the imagined Alex pulled back, Michael couldn’t help but say, “Wow.”

He only realized he had said this out loud when the girl at the bar exclaimed, “Exactly!”

The bustling barroom came back into focus. Alex was gone. Sounds and smells returned to him as if a trance had just been lifted.

Blinking, he returned his focus to the person in front of him. He had somehow completely lost track of what was going on, but it seemed like she had gotten to a point in her story and had taken Michael’s exclamation as agreement or commentary.

Still holding onto his drink, he fidgeted, trying to erase the vision of Alex from his mind. That kiss had seemed so real, so enticing. Drawing his attention back to the attractive woman, Michael tried to come up with something to say to her. And yet, his mind was blank.

Well, it wasn’t entirely blank. It felt like there was an empty space and there was one protruding thought that was slowly filling it up.

Suddenly, he straightened and said to the woman, “Hey, I’m sorry. I gotta be somewhere.”

“What?” she asked, in shock at the abrupt end to their conversation. She clearly thought they were in the middle of something.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just– It’s actually that I got something in the morning, so…I’m gonna just…” He tried not to be too awkward, but left it open, making it clear he was leaving. His efforts weren’t very successful and he felt the tension and unspoken offense as he turned to make his way toward the door.

Just as he reached the exit and went to push the door handle, he realized that he was still holding his glass. Slightly embarrassed, he about-faced to rush back to the bar and drop the glass down before retreating once again.

Michael then left the Pony and rushed to go find some nail polish remover that would, with any luck, stave off any hangovers so that he would be alert when he woke early enough to make it to the downtown bus stop the next morning.
_____

Michael couldn’t remember the last time he had ever been early for something. Whether it was work schedules, parties, town events or social meet-ups, he always tended towards being fashionably late.

For so long, he had attempted to curate the persona of someone who couldn’t be bothered to be punctual. As far as the people of Roswell were concerned, the town drunk with the bad attitude who worked as rancher and mechanic was never on time for anything.

This past year, when things had mattered, Michael showed up. If there was an alien emergency, obviously, Michael would prioritize that and be there. But, even then sometimes he never got in the habit of being early for anything.

That streak was broken today.

In the early morning sun, Michael stalked down Main Street, making his way past the Crashdown, holding a very thin red rose in his hand and trying to be discreet about it. Another thing that was new for Michael today was purchasing and giving a flower as a gift. It had been a last minute idea, but the flower shop had opened at seven o’clock and he had to pass it from where he’d parked anyway.

He hoped that Alex wouldn’t find it too corny or cliché. Maybe he would find it charming. Alex was sometimes sentimental like that.

Since he didn’t see the bus yet, Michael paused next to The Crashdown windows and elected to briefly use them as a mirror. Being early had its perks, Michael decided. He had the time to not only pick up something to give Alex when he arrived, but also to make himself look a little more appealing.

With the hand holding the rose, Michael reached for his black hat and removed it so he could ruffle his unruly curls, using the window reflection as a guide. When he deemed his hair acceptable, he replaced his hat and stared toward the park.

The bus still hadn’t arrived yet, so Michael made his way across the street, the rose still pressed between his fingers. It was a nice day for late November and there were already some pedestrians out and about. Michael retreated to the shade of a tree to await Alex’s arrival.

While he waited, he had time to settle his nerves and practice what he might say. Even though he’d made the executive decision last night to come here with the intention of talking to Alex, potentially telling him how he felt and asking if they could start something new, he felt apprehensive about it now that he was standing here. All the reasons Michael had wanted to delay still applied.

Alex might not be ready. He might be turned off by Michael’s boldness and might see his coming here as coming on too strong. Michael might get tripped up and not communicate everything correctly. On the other hand, they might start something too fast. It could get too serious too soon and could end up imploding.

But, Michael was standing here anyway. Why?

As Michael took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart, he realized it was because he couldn’t stand not having Alex in his life once he was back in town. He wanted Alex more than anything and he didn’t want to waste another second. What they had was too strong, too good, too rare. And Michael needed to do something about it. Or else he might explode from unrealized desire.

More people crossed the street and milled around in the park behind him. Michael’s eyes were glued to the cross-street and so when that big white bus with a blue streak across it reading “Enchanted Lands Bus Lines” approached, Michael practically jumped out of his skin in anticipation.

Even though his body was shaking slightly and his palms were sweaty despite the chill in the air, he was ready. He felt the yearning for Alex and the connection to him filling up with confidence. He could do this.

Before he mustered up the courage to walk closer, the doors to the bus opened and Alex was the first one to step off, carrying a large green duffle bag as well as a backpack hanging off one shoulder. Michael paused only for a second to take in his appearance. He looked the same as ever, still so good, with windswept hair, jeans and a black button down over another black shirt.

As Michael started moving toward him, he noticed Alex had halted in his descent off the bus. He’d stopped in front of a large bronze statue and was gazing up at it a little despondently. Michael nearly tripped when he realized that it was the newly built statue of Jesse Manes. Damn. Alex hadn’t been around since it had been put up. Of course it was probably triggering him to step off a bus in his hometown and see that monster memorialized in front of him, saluting at him like a taunt from beyond the grave.

Michael continued his trek slowly so as to give Alex a minute to collect himself. Hopefully, he could provide a welcome distraction from that asinine statue.

Before Michael got to him, though, he noticed Alex’s attention got diverted. Suddenly, he was smiling. He was smiling at someone.

Michael skirted to an abrupt halt when he recognized that someone. Forrest Long.

The breath freezing in his chest, Michael could only stare as the dark haired historian walked right up to Alex and leaned in to kiss him. It was as if his whole world instantly crumbled before his eyes. Michael’s fist clenched and the stem of the rose bent as his arm lowered, like he was now ashamed of the flower and wanted to hide it.

How stupid he had been to assume he could just show up here, rose in hand, and Alex would fall into his arms. He had forgotten that Forrest and Alex had been sort of seeing each other before Alex had left town. Damn, how could Michael have been so naive?

Glancing around, he realized he hadn’t even seen Forrest come from the other direction, behind the gazebo and around the statue. But, clearly, Alex had seen him. Alex had gone right to him.

Now they were grinning at each other, talking quietly in each other’s space. Forrest was standing so close, with that swept-back dark hairdo Alex probably liked, wearing a dumb flannel scarf. He hadn’t even offered to take Alex’s bags yet. Couldn’t he be more accommodating?

Blinking in the sunlight, Michael realized he hadn’t moved. He was still staring blankly at Alex kissing and reuniting with another man. He had to get out of here. He had missed his moment. And he couldn't watch any more of this.

Slowly, he started to turn toward Main Street, but it seemed like he hadn’t moved quickly enough to keep Alex from seeing him.

“Guerin!”

Damn. Damn. Damn.

His heart thrashing in his chest, Michael pulled the hand holding the rose squarely behind his back. He couldn’t help but exhale a panicked, “Oh my god. Oh my god,” under his breath.

As Alex started to move toward him, he jerked his shoulders in Michael’s direction, causing his backpack to slide off and almost fall to the ground. Forrest instantly bent down to pick up Alex's duffle bag. He grabbed one of them so Alex could secure the other. “Hey, don’t lose that,” the other man remarked.

“Oh, thanks, babe,” Alex replied as he pulled up the strap of his backpack and stepped toward where Michael was standing.

The alien quickly turned to face him, the hand with the rose still wrapped behind his back. Making sure no one was looking, he used his telekinesis to rip the thing apart and then shove it in the dirt.

“Michael!” Alex greeted, coming up to him.

“Oh, hey, there you are!” Michael said, maybe a little too brightly. “Hey, how was your trip?”

Alex’s face eased into a pleasant smile. “Good. Very long. Hey, great to see you– ah, oh. You’re bleeding.”

“What?” Michael was trying so hard to stay breezy and light that Alex’s observation and downturned brows startled him.

“Oh, your hand.”

Looking down, Michael panicked and realized that in his fervor to get rid of the flower, a thorn had scraped his skin. “Oh, look at that. You’re right.” He tried chuckling as a dollop of blood oozed out of a thin line on his palm.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, sounding concerned and a little confused at Michael’s reaction.

“Fine,” Michael dismissed. He still couldn’t keep his racing pulse under control, which probably wasn’t helping the bleeding. Talking fast, he said, “This hand has always been a mess anyway. But, enough about me, tell me all about your trip.”

“Uh, well that’s a long story,” Alex said, smirking. “But, um, you remember Forrest. Forrest, Guerin.”

Forrest nodded at being acknowledged and stepped up beside Alex. “Yeah of course, Alien Guy.”

Michael couldn’t help his nervous laughter. “Ahaha. Yeah, yeah, Nazi Guy. Hey man.”

“Did you meet me here for a reason? You need something?” Alex’s voice turned curious and a little anxious. It’s possible Alex only believed that Michael would come to him with some kind of emergency or favor needed.

Michael’s heart dropped at that realization. “Uh, no, no,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I- uh, I knew your bus was coming in today and just wanted to make sure you got a ride home. And uh, it looks like he’s got you covered.” He gestured to Forrest with what he hoped looked like an easy grin, but in actuality took monumental effort.

“Yeah, I’ll see he gets home safe,” Forrest assured, squeezing closer to Alex, which in turn seemed to squeeze Michael’s heart.

Not knowing what else to say, he muttered, “Alright, well, I’ll uh, see you guys around.” Michael turned to walk away toward his truck parked down Main Street, ready to die of embarrassment or burst into flames from how red he was turning.

“Guerin, wait!” Alex’s voice beckoned.

Hope illogically flooding his system, he obediently turned around.

“I wanna update everyone about uh, stuff from my travels,” Alex said. “I’m hoping to get everyone together soon. Maybe even later tonight.”

Michael nodded, but his face stayed neutral. Not even the promise of new intriguing alien information could banish the dread in his chest. “I’ll let people know to expect a message from you,” he said in confirmation.

“Okay,” Alex said, jerking his chin up in a sort of goodbye. “See you soon.”

Without another word, Michael stuffed his hands in his pockets and left the seemingly happy couple alone.

As soon as he made it back to his car, Michael grabbed a bandana from his glove compartment and shoved it on his left hand, hoping to stanch the bleeding. Pressing down on the cut, Michael reveled for a moment in the physical pain. On a really messed up level, he missed being able to push on the hurt in his hand whenever he needed a distraction.

He sat there for a few moments, letting his brain clear and his heart ease from aching. It hadn’t completely eased yet when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Opening his text threads, he noticed that Isobel was spam texting him.

Did you meet up with Alex?
Were you at the bus stop or in the park?
How’d it go?
Did you kiss him?

Clenching his jaw, Michael slammed his fist on his truck’s console. A few minutes ago, he had been so full of hope. And now he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where to go from here. After letting out a deep sigh, he texted back a few clipped words in answer to his sister.

Yes.
Bus stop.
But not alone. Forrest.
Sucked.

Chapter Text

As if Michael’s day couldn’t have gotten worse, it wasn’t only Alex who had plans to shatter Michael’s heart that day. The universe just loved kicking him when he was down.

Max decided to finally come clean and tell his siblings that his time on this planet was limited. Apparently, while Michael’s heart had been breaking metaphorically, Max’s had been breaking apart literally.

In the afternoon, Michael had planned to meet up with Isobel and commiserate about Alex having a new official-looking boyfriend. Before he could start complaining however, both she and he had detected Max’s distress. After following him to the pod caves, they found Max who was trying to be evasive and argumentative about Jones.

When the truth was finally revealed, both Isobel and Michael were quick to anger. It was definitely easier to be pissed at their brother for keeping this dire secret than to admit that they were devastated at the idea of losing him. Both of them stormed off.

However, during Michael’s tirade directed at Max, he had mentioned that he could’ve gotten through all of this mess with Alex if the three of them had stayed solid. He had brought up Alex’s desire to update everyone on what he had found on his travels. Not knowing what it was, it might not even matter at this point.

Michael was just so wrung out, he couldn’t even think straight. He had no time or energy to wonder what the hell Alex could’ve discovered that was so important. Michael’s curiosity dried up like any sparse water left in the New Mexico desert.

When Alex’s message came through, most people responded that they could carve out some time that night. Despite Michael’s desire to go find a nice hole and bury himself in it, he texted that he’d also be there. Alex offered to host everyone at his house, so it could be a private sharing of information. Michael was dreading it.

As if she had recovered from the shock, Isobel quickly found Michael and started suggesting that they find a way to use Jones to save Max. Her enthusiasm did wake Michael up a bit. It made Michael just want to cut open the doppelganger and grab his heart to give to Max. Isobel insisted that they needed information first. If there was something else they needed to know or an easier way to help Max, this guy might be helpful. She insisted they couldn’t outright kill him…yet.

Now eager to start on this Jones project, Michael admitted to Isobel that the cage for Jones could be fixed up soon. She wanted to even get started that night, but Michael reminded her that they were all meeting at Alex’s place. Isobel swore in frustration.

Michael promised that if it was over quickly, that maybe they could sneak off to Jones’ cave afterwards and question the alien in the dead of night. But, that left Michael with not a lot of time to get the cage ready, so it was a “maybe.”

As the evening get-together approached, Michael was feeling more positive. There was a lightness that came with having a plan and a goal. So, he thought that he could suffer through some tense moments in Alex’s presence with the anticipation of being productive later on that night.

He would only have to swallow his embarrassment from that morning and stuff down his longing. At least he would be able to gaze at Alex all he wanted when he talked about Project Shepherd’s demise. That stupid boyfriend of his wouldn’t interfere given that he wasn’t invited into their alien clubhouse.

At least, that’s what Michael assumed. Once everyone was gathered, lounging in Alex’s living room, Michael realized that there was an extra person in attendance. The last person Michael wanted to see sitting next to Alex.

“Okay, everyone’s here,” Alex announced, loudly. His confident voice and presence commanded attention the way a military leader would. Michael’s eyes would’ve been fixed on his glowing and intelligent face had they not been following the newcomer’s every movement with suspicion and dread.

Making the introductions in a friendly tone, Alex said, “Forrest, you know my brother, Greg. And Maria. And Guerin, of course.” Alex pointed out each person in the wide-eyed group the man would be familiar with. “That’s Kyle, Rosa, Isobel and Max.”

“Hey! Good to meet you guys,” Forrest said with a friendly wave. Michael hated how easy-going he sounded. Why did he always act like everything was so chill? What the hell was he doing here?! The historian continued, “And I'm sorry for the sudden first impression you’re about to get of me.”

“So, some of you know Forrest,” Alex began, gently. “And you might wonder why he’s here given the subject of what I wanna talk about. But he’s kinda a big part of it.”

Michael felt his stomach drop. This couldn’t be happening. Alex’s boyfriend couldn't be involved in alien business. It was the one thing that Michael had over him, that Michael knew a part of Alex’s life that would always be hidden. But now, he was here? A big part of it?

Others in the group made their apprehension and concerned objections known, albeit for more logical reasons. So, Alex explained, “It has to do with a secret black ops paramilitary research firm and what they know about aliens. Basically, Forrest is the way in. And because of that he’s helped me access some information already, which essentially means… he knows.”

Forrest nodded and added, “But just like you guys, I come in peace.”

Voices shouted out. “What?” “How?” “Where is this firm?” “When were you gonna tell us?”

“Okay, okay, if everyone will calm down,” Alex said, fully composed, “I can give the full backstory on how this happened.”

Michael stayed silent, but fuming inside. It wasn’t that he didn’t have worries; it was that he couldn’t find the words to fully express how much he hated this whole thing. He didn’t know if it was the idea that more people knew about aliens or the fact that Forrest was the key, that he was necessary, and Alex had trusted him enough to bring him in on everything. It left a bad taste in his mouth as Michael listened to Alex’s story.

“This all started months ago when Forrest and I were connecting while I was still wrapping up Project Shepherd stuff,” Alex began explaining. “At the time, I hadn’t told him about the nature of what I was doing. But, Forrest came clean about his own involvement with a pretty intense research facility that recruited military personnel to tackle some deep-state mysteries. And he mentioned that they were interested in me. Forrest told me this because he wanted me to stay clear of his employers. He mentioned to me that it might be better if I stayed with that project I was working on because his organization can get extremely secretive the deeper you go and I was being tapped for a very high clearance level.”

Forrest interjected, “I’ve seen guys go pretty deep. And they disappear inside their projects. As I got wind of their interest in Alex, I was worried about what might happen. Alex was so invested in what he was working on, traveling around the country, I thought that if Deep Sky got a hold of him, I’d never see him again.”

Everyone in the room was listening intently. The organization was definitely suspicious, although also intriguing. But, Michael was focused on the fact that Forrest had been honest with Alex about a possible recruitment because he was worried that he’d lose Alex. That fact circled around in Michael’s head, burning through his logical thoughts, leaving only a sting of jealousy that Forrest had Alex and had the desire to keep him close.

Alex continued, “At first I was upset that he didn’t tell me right away what he was involved in. And had waited until it might affect me. I recognized the name, Deep Sky, and was suspicious of the rumors about them. But then on the road, I got to thinking. So I called him and we talked about how he got involved and he told me that he likes his archival duties. I wanted to ask if he’d ever seen anything alien but obviously I couldn’t say ‘alien’ so I ended up giving him little bits of information, but I didn’t say how I was involved.”

“It was kind of a test,” Forrest said with a sly slant to his mouth.

Alex smirked as if sharing a teasing inside joke, one that they had talked about previously. It made Michael uneasy. “I just wanted to see what he knew or what Deep Sky knew. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have that high a clearance. But, I was too intrigued at that point. So, I ended up needing his help to hack into it, the archives and reports, and with the information I found, well, he found it too.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Max asked, like he was waiting desperately for an answer to that question.

“Basically,” Alex sighed, “they know a lot of what we know. Information about the crash, about Project Shepherd, their experiments, about a suspicious violent alien at the crash site, like what we read about in Tripp’s journal. And about suspected alien children in Roswell.” Alex paused and meaningfully looked at the three of them, Max, Isobel and Michael. “But not much else. At least, on the surface from what I was able to gather.”

Michael gulped. Another military organization knew about them? How was this possible?

Perhaps Alex could see his nervousness and others next to him with the same expression, because he said, “Most of that information is archived and not active in any files or projects. It’s, like, just collected data on the UFO mystery. But…Forrest did help me find it, so he did see it. But after he found out and I explained my involvement, he’s been really cool. And since they still wanna recruit me, Forrest was able to relay that I would be very interested.”

Something in Michael snapped. He hated the tone in Alex’s voice that expressed gratitude for Forrest’s help in digging deeper into their secrets. He grumbled, “So, you’re gonna join the military murderers that were after Cameron's sister?”

Alex wasn’t fazed by Michael’s anger and accusation. He probably expected it. And he had an answer ready. “Charlie Cameron never said that Deep Sky was after her. My dad did. Which was obviously a lie.”

“And they're not murderers,” Forrest added. “They’re innovators. Tapping into the secrets of the universe and asking questions.”

Biting his lip, Michael sank into himself, resenting that Forrest was backing Alex up, like they were a team here.

“Well, isn’t that just kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic,” Michael spat sarcastically.

“What it could be is promising,” Alex said, evenly. “We haven’t learned anything new, but. If I successfully get recruited, there could be more. I think it would be helpful to know what they know, whatever the extent.”

“I agree,” Isobel said, confidently. Her eyes were clear and focused, like the sky after a storm, ready to brave a new day after surviving troubled times but prepared in case disaster struck again.

“Won’t this be a little dangerous, though?” Maria inquired from her perch.

“No more dangerous than what I’ve done this past year,” Alex said, assuringly. “Plus I’d have Forrest on the inside with me.”

Again, the idea that Forrest being there supporting Alex comforted him made Michael twinge. He, himself, longed to be the person who stood by Alex’s side and made him feel better when things seemed daunting. Still, he was at least bolstered by the fact that Alex was doing all of this for the aliens, and by extension for Michael.

His apprehension about Alex heading into danger again warred with his curiosity about what else this so-called black ops firm had collected. “So, you think it’s worth the risk?”

“I do,” Alex nodded. “I think what we can learn could be invaluable. It’s better to see what knowledge we can gain and have it then not try.” He was being very logical. And Michael thought with a wistful twist of his stomach, quite inspirational.

“Sounds like the right idea to me,” Rosa commented.

Kyle agreed. “Yeah, going forward we need to be operating with all available information.”

Smiling, Alex nodded. Michael understood that Alex always operated under the mindview that more information could mean protection, and if necessary, ammo.

A hollow feeling in his chest reminded him, though, that right now the group wasn’t privileged to all of the information. When he shared a look with Isobel, she appeared to have a similar guilty, but wary look on her face.

Clearing her throat, his sister spoke what he apparently wasn’t brave enough to. “Um, in which case, there’s something others should know…”

And from there, everything spilled out. The aliens admitted to keeping the secret mysterious clone of Max hidden in a cave for a year.

The others weren’t very happy about their hidden project but since nothing had really happened, they were just curious with a thousand questions, most of which the three of them couldn’t answer. However, Kyle was particularly incensed because he had been wracking his brain trying to figure out alien medical science and they had an alien stashed away this whole time who might’ve provided insight or functioned as another test subject.

Everyone knew about Kyle monitoring Maria’s brain for signs of degeneration. But, what they didn’t know was Max’s post-transplant prognosis. At Kyle’s reaction, Max hesitantly shared with the others what he’d privately told his siblings earlier that day.

The exclamations were louder this time, from all except Kyle, who apparently was the one who diagnosed Max and told him that unless they found an alien solution, he wouldn’t survive much longer.

“But, now we have a solution, right?” Rosa said, eagerly. “Can’t you just take this guy’s heart?”

Kyle sighed. “Doing another transplant would be risky in and of itself. We were only successful because of luck, Guerin’s last-minute invention and alien powers you somehow manifested. There wouldn’t be any guarantees if we did try again.”

“But, as a last resort, it’d be an option, right?” Maria prodded.

“We think a better approach is to question the alien,” Isobel explained. “Find out what he knows. Why he looks like Max. And maybe get some insight into why he’s here.”

“We know why he’s here,” Michael argued. “Tripp’s journal said that he ignited a war with humans and aliens with a flick of his wrist. Literally setting things on fire. If he was the dangerous alien my mom was scared of, then there’s a reason why she and Louise locked him up.”

Isobel countered, “But, if he’s like Max, he could also have healing abilities, which admittedly could come in handy.”

“I assume Max can’t just heal himself?” Greg asked, doubtfully.

“If I could I would,” Max said with a regretful scoff. “But it doesn’t work like that. And… I've sorta been losing complete control over my powers lately.”

“Well, then, I think interrogation is a smart move,” Alex added. “As long as you can ensure your safety.”

Leaning forward and with a little bid of boastful pride in her voice, Isobel said, “That’s why Michael's been working on a cage to hold him and contain him while we question him.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t ready,” Max challenged, his eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Groaning, Michael admitted, “It’s not…but I can work on it and have it ready soon.”

“Seriously? You were just stalling?” Max spat, angrily.

“Well, excuse me for not knowing we were on a time limit!” he shouted back. “Maybe you shoulda spoken up sooner about your health crisis.”

“Well, now that we know, we can work on a solution,” Alex said, seemingly trying to interrupt the argument. “If I find any information about that alien from the crash at Deep Sky, we might have a better handle on whether or not to trust this Jones guy.”

“Or if Deep Sky has any other alien-health-related info that would also be helpful,” Kyle added.

“Why would they possibly have research on that?” Rosa asked, side-eyeing her half brother.

“You never know!” Kyle maintained obstinately.

“Okay, so we have a tentative plan,” Forrest said, regretfully reminding Michael that he was still here and a part of this.

“Sounds good,” Kyle nodded. “So, we’ll keep each other in the loop?”

“Good luck to those who are researching and interrogating,” Rosa said. “I’m here to help, but I think I can go. We’re taking up Alex’s living room space. He just got back so he probably wants to chill and hang with Forrest.”

Her words were meant as a slight tease, but a sincere wish to help out a friend, Michael could tell. However, it served to inject an unwelcome image directly into Michael’s brain of Alex and Forrest spending the night together, cozy on the couch congratulating each other on how well the night went.

“Hey, woah, not so fast,” Michael said, halting the adjourning of the meeting. “We’ve come to the consensus that we should cautiously approach Jones and that Alex could potentially glean some helpful insight from Deep Sky. But we have a lot left to discuss.”

“Like what?” Rosa asked, exhaustedly.

“Like, uh.. Forrest.” Michael looked directly at the man, trying not to seem too accusatory, but unfortunately it seeped out into his tone a little. “We don’t really know much about you. Maybe we should learn some more things about your background. You know, since you’re in the know about our secret.”

Isobel gave Michael a stern look, which Michael promptly ignored.

“Michael, you can trust him,” Alex said, calmly.

“And he already knows everything,” Max added. “It’s not like if we determine he’s suspicious, we can erase his memory.”

“Given that you guys are aliens,” Forrest said, "I'm surprised you can’t. But, hey, I get it. I’m new. If you want, you can ask me anything. Maybe that’ll help.”

“You’ve already proven yourself,” Alex said, looking at him fondly, which made Michael almost gag. “I’ve told them how helpful you’ve been.”

Michael jumped in. “Well, maybe he’s onto something, though. Some of us have met you, some haven’t. Maybe we should get to know you a little better.”

“We know he’s related to the Long family and that he can recite some mean poetry at open mic night," Maria said. “What else do we need to know about him?”

“Uh, maybe about Deep Sky,” Michael suggested. “How did you get involved in this business?”

Tilting his head as if preparing to answer, Forrest said, “Well, in a nutshell–”

“Hey, hey, don’t skip anything,” Michael interrupted. “We need to make sure we are thorough.”

He wanted to drag this out as long as possible in case that cut into his and Alex’s alone time. Plus, he wanted to arm himself with information, like Alex always liked to do. Michael wanted to know his enemy.

“Alright, well,” he dutifully said, “I guess it started with my service in the military…”

Chapter Text

The couple days following Alex’s return turned out not to be as productive as Michael thought they would be.

Since he had wasted a lot of that first night interrogating Forrest, much to Isobel’s dismay, they had not initiated their plan for Jones, as they had wanted to. The next day, Michael had worked tirelessly to get them back on track, finishing the cage to hold the alien.

However, Max’s annoying attitude put a stop to their plans. He wanted to be there questioning his own look-alike. Isobel argued that it should only be the two of them first because Max had been manipulated by Jones before. If they went in first, they could get a general idea before Max had his go at him.

Their brother, the paranoid deputy, absolutely refused to allow them to face Jones without him. This had enraged Michael, claiming that if anyone Max was the most vulnerable because of his condition, and the two of them could handle themselves against a caged, isolated hick alien.

The tension was getting to all of them. Michael kept trying to hit Max where it would hurt, the venoms on his tongue ready to lash out and blame someone for all of that pressure in his chest. Isobel began blaming Michael, claiming that he had been “so busy interrogating Alex’s new boyfriend when you should’ve been focused on interrogating Jones!”

This in-fighting resulted in nothing getting agreed upon until the following day. Isobel and Michael luckily were able to go in as “bad cops” and try to get information on who Jones was. The alien was all too happy to take his time telling the story and when he started insinuating there had been a rift between him and their moms, born out of their ruthlessness and his heroics, Michael lost his temper.

They needed to take a break, which mostly consisted of Isobel yelling at her brother to take a chill pill and have a goddam poker face while they try to get information and then assess the accuracy of it later, but not let him see that they don’t believe him.

Unfortunately, their interview was cut short and Michael was left on a cliffhanger, pissed off with more questions than answers. Therefore, that left Michael to stew in his own frustrations as they waited on their next move.

They were all meeting up that night at the drive-in anyway, so the group could check in on their progress and also enjoy the night off. Well, most of them had a night off. Max, acting as deputy, had to handle complaints at the market stalls prior to the drive-in that night.

What made the evening daunting, though, was the fact that Alex was sure to be there, mostly likely accompanied by his new boy toy. Michael tried to trivialize their relationship in his mind because everything he witnessed from them indicated a more serious relationship.

To make matters worse, Alex had reported that his recruitment had been initiated, and Deep Sky’s secrets were within his reach. While Michael had been sitting on his hands, and coming up with only more questions, Alex had actually made some headway. This wasn’t actually surprising, given how productive and smart Alex was, but it made Michael feel inadequate all the same.

Staggering with self-pity, Michael dragged himself through the open stalls of the market well before the sun went down. He was looking for a booth in particular.

When he spotted it, he flushed with anticipation. Knowing that Maria and Alex were still great friends, Michael had employed her services in finding out more about Alex’s relationship with Forrest. It’s not like Michael himself could ask, at least not directly. And even if he downed enough alcohol to bolster his courage to do so, he knew it wouldn’t come out tactful or appropriate.

So, he slid up to The Wild Pony’s stall and leaned toward the woman behind the counter.

As soon as she saw him, she whipped her cowboy hat-covered head to him and said, “Hey Guerin. Since you’re here, can you help me with some crates?”

Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “Did you find out about Alex's relationship status?”

Her smile slithered into a shy upturn of her mouth. “Not yet…”

“Then, no.” He pushed back from the counter and straightened. As much as he was inclined to be helpful, he did come here with an objective.

“Oh, come on,” she whined, hands on her hips. “Greg was helping me but now he’s over there talking with Alex.”

She gestured to a spot behind Michael and he had to exert great control not to spin around to get a look at where he was. Instead, he said, “Great, you can go over there to ask Greg for more help and then get Alex alone.”

“Seriously?” she tilted her head exhaustively.

Whether she saw the pleading in Michael’s eyes or she just genuinely did want to interrupt the Manes brothers, she seemed to oblige. She groaned, but walked over to where the two men were leaning against a car.

Michael allowed himself a moment to glance over at them. Greg was wearing a similar “Wild Pony” straw cowboy hat to Maria’s and Alex’s head was covered by what looked like a black beanie. The garment clung to his head and really made his facial features stand out. Michael couldn’t help but notice that he looked really good, for being bundled up in the chilly late fall weather.

Once they started to walk back towards the booth, Michael scooted around the corner. This was probably kind of pathetic, but he took up a casual stance behind a neighboring stall, so that he could hear them as they approached and if he leaned forward he could glimpse them.

When it was clear that Maria was enacting Michael’s plan exactly, he had little guilt over eavesdropping.

“Hey, are you sure you don’t need an extra pair of hands?” Alex asked.

“Nah, Greg's got it,” Maria responded, casually. “It’s not a lot. Plus, I wanna catch up with you.” She slapped him playfully on the arm, which he seemed to smile at. They both sat on a couple of stools in her stall and she began, “So, tell me what happened this past year.”

“I kind of already did,” he chuckled. “Unless you wanna hear about my Air Force meetings and shutting down Project Shepherd.”

“No, I mean with Forrest!” her voice turned gossipy and excited. He knew Maria was the right person to ask to get the low-down. “Before you left, I know you guys were hanging out, but you seem a lot closer now…are things more serious?”

Alex sighed as if he didn’t want to answer. But, then he said, “Well, yeah, kinda. After he confessed to me about Deep Sky and we started working on stuff together…I asked him if he wanted to be exclusive. He said yes. And he ended up pushing back his book tour so that he could be here with me and help me transition to Deep Sky when I came back.”

Eyes closing, Michael felt his heart sink into a deep hole in his chest. Alex had asked him to be exclusive? And he’d said yes? And he changed his own personal plans to be there for Alex? Damn, this did sound serious. How the hell was Michael going to compete with that?

Maria stuttered, “That’s- wow…I mean how did that happen? The last time you were in Roswell, I heard a rumor that you sang a love song about Michael Guerin.”

“Did you hear that from Greg?” Alex asked, sounding suspicious. “Hey, why don’t you tell me what’s going on between you two?”

“Do not change the subject.” Maria clearly wasn’t fooled by Alex’s snarky redirection.

“He likes you. A lot.”

“That’s nice to know,” she said, her voice going soft at the mention of the elder Manes brother, “but I kinda suspected already. Stop evading.”

“Ugh, fine,” Alex sighed, relenting. “Well, it’s been a while since Guerin and I have been involved and I guess the more time went on, there was a little voice inside me that kept saying that it was never gonna happen. He wanted to move on and he tried to. So, I figured maybe it was best if I tried to as well.”

The words floated through the air of the market and hit Michael square in the chest, slamming into him with the weight of an anvil. He tried to swallow his urge to jump out of his hiding place and confront him or run in the opposite direction as fast as he could.

“Oh, I see,” Maria said, nodding her head awkwardly, probably trying not to acknowledge her part in that.

“I think for a while Guerin's been trying to just see me as a friend,” Alex continued in a muted, very solemn kind of tone. “And that little voice sounded a lot like Kyle whenever he would give me advice, so. Figured it was worth a shot. And I think it’s been working out so far. Forrest is so nice. We’ve been having a great time together.”

“Well, good for you,” she said, kind of modestly. “I’m glad–”

Greg came back and interrupted with, “All set. Do I get a free beer for my services?”

“Of course,” Maria smiled. “Just let me get organized and it’ll be right up.”

“You need any other help?” Alex asked.

“Um, no I’m fine, I just gotta finish.”

Alex, then, stood up. “Well, if you’re sure, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe walk around a little bit.”

Greg called to his brother, “Sure, I can show you that stall I was talking about…”

As they disappeared into the crowd, Michael made himself seen and walked over to Maria.

When she noticed him, the look on her face was a thinly veiled mask that couldn’t hide the pity underneath. “Hey-” she started to say.

“I heard,” he said dejectedly. “He’s having a great time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her expression like something was squeezing her painfully. “If it’s any silver lining, he thinks he’s doing what you want. So, you know he cares about you.”

Scoffing, he threw out his arms in anguish. “How is that any kind of a silver lining if it’s not what I want?”

“You gotta look really hard?” she tried.

Shaking his head, he sighed. “You got a drink?”

She gave him a sympathetic look and then proceeded to ready her stall for the drive-in crowd. He lingered long enough to receive a beer for his troubles. Eventually, other people that he knew gathered around.

He was able to get lost in the oblivion of a mild buzz and distracted himself by listening in on others’ conversations. That is, until Alex and Greg returned to collect on that promised beer.

Since Max had maneuvered his way over as well, he started asking Alex discreetly how his new job was going. Michael thought Alex did a good job speaking in relative code, in a setting where others might overhear, but relaying more details about his quite unique initiation into the secret organization.

As he was talking, Michael tried to make his way closer. He managed to squeeze his way so he was leaning over the stall counter right next to the man so he could rub against the smoothness of his black leather jacket.

Just as Michael was getting comfortable, making the occasional comment and complimentary remark, Alex reached into his pocket to pull out his phone and answered an incoming call.

“Hey, Forrest!”

The blood in Michael’s veins turned to ice and he pursed his lips as he listened to Alex’s one-sided conversation with his official, exclusive boyfriend.

“Yeah, we’re by The Wild Pony booth. When you get here it shouldn’t be hard to find…Aw, that’s so great.”

He was smiling into the phone and Michael’s eyes burned to watch him, and yet he couldn’t look away. Somehow, Alex made it worse when he leaned over toward Michael in an effort to see through the crowd and the poles of the stall.

Luckily Alex couldn’t tell how miserable Michael was or that he was holding his breath, because he was laughing to Forrest on the other end. “Okay, I'll see you soon…can’t wait either… aw, that’s sweet…no, you…yeah, well, I—”

Michael couldn’t take it anymore. His nerves were being frayed with every flirtatious word. Like a volcano erupting from annoyance, he dramatically chugged his drink and then slammed it down on the table. In doing so, his telekinesis forced Alex’s phone right out of his hand.

“Oh, whoops, lost control of my powers a little there,” Michael casually said as he caught the phone between his palms. “Aw, man, sorry. Did it disconnect?” Michael put on his best fake apologetic face, knowing full well he purposefully ended the call.

Taking his phone back, Alex said, good-naturedly, “Yeah, that’s okay. I’ll just call him back.”

“Ha!” Michael smiled, as if he found the whole thing funny and fully supported that course of action. His performance was either very convincing or Alex was too caught up in re-connecting with his boyfriend to notice.

After Alex re-dialed and re-connected, he said into the phone, “Hey, we lost connection…Yeah, where are you? I’ll come find you.”

It was a small mercy when Alex straightened up and left the huddle around the stall.

But, the second he was out of earshot, Michael let out a very audible groan to his friends. Many of them, especially Max, Isobel and Maria gave him that same knowing and sympathetic look he had gotten from the bar owner earlier.

“Okay, okay, how did this happen to me?” Michael exclaimed, leaning his head down and wildly gesturing with his hands, like he couldn’t control himself. “A week ago, I was fine. I was a chill, casual guy and I was just waiting for the right time. Now, I am an embarrassing, insecure, jealous maniac!”

Kyle, who clearly was starting to catch on but was less caring about it, said, “You sure this is a new state of being?”

Quickly, Isobel added, “Maybe you’ve always been like this and it’s only now showing itself because the right guy made you this way.”

“Alex has never been just some guy,” Michael insisted, feeling uncharacteristically open. “He’s– he’s Alex! And he’s always been mine…somehow. But now, he’s the really great guy that I can’t have.”

At this particular vulnerable whine, others now looked at Michael with varying amounts of pity and empathy. In a comforting voice, Isobel said, “I’m sorry, Michael, I wanted you to be with him too.”

Michael sighed, but before he could say anything else, he caught sight of Forrest arriving and walking up to Alex. After greeting him with a quick kiss, the couple started walking toward the stall.

“Okay, I gotta get outta here,” Michael announced and with a sudden jerky motion, pushed himself away and into the melee of the drive-in crowd.

His throat burned, and he knew it wasn’t the alcohol. Seeing Alex happy and affectionate with a guy in public was such a great thing for him. Michael knew how big a deal that was for Alex, and for so long, Michael yearned to see that beautiful, infectious smile on his face, uninhibited, because he knew he was supported and surrounded by friends.

Finally, Alex was able to have that. But, it wasn’t Michael who had put that smile there. It wasn’t Michael who he was sharing that happiness with.

And that thought was what haunted Michael as he trudged through the market stalls and the drive-in clusters of people, trying to distract himself.

As he went, he caught onto some trouble. The kind of trouble that lended itself to necessary vigilante justice, and allowed Michael to justify any cathartic release of anger or violence.

He ended up stalking this guy, Jordan, son of the mayor, who along with some cronies was rearing to harass a black guy innocently working a stall.

Michael was perpetually glaring at the guy, projecting all of his frustrations onto people who just hated for no reason and who thought that picking on people who were different automatically made them superior.

Before he could get into anything, though, he ran into Greg and Forrest, almost literally colliding with them.

At first, Michael balked at their friendly greeting and apologies. He was almost ready to ignore them and push past them. But, his more logical senses won out and he explained his narrow focus on Jordan Burke’s pack.

“Damn,” Greg muttered, leaning into conspire. “Burke was harassing him earlier today too.”

“Really?” Michael scoffed. “And he wasn’t satisfied? He’s just circling him, like prey, now.”

“God, what an ass,” Forrest commented.

“He say anything else to the guy?” Greg inquired, worriedly.

Shaking his head, Michael informed, “Nah, not yet. Just some hostile hanging around him and glares. But his gang has been following him, so it’s just a matter of time.”

“Should we do something?” Forrest asked, cocking an eyebrow, like he wasn’t sure.

“When he makes a move, I’ll step in,” Michael assured confidently with a growl. “I can make sure he doesn’t get very far.”

The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and gave the evening a dusty glow. Michael felt the darkness creeping around him and also somehow motivating the darkness inside him.

“Is that the best way to handle it?” Greg asked, uncertain. “He already made a complaint to the sheriff’s department. Is it better to call them again?”

“Or we stop something before it starts,” Forrest said, staring at Jordan’s silhouette moving across the open space.

“How?” Greg huffed, like that would be impossible.

In answer, the shorter man squared his shoulders, gave Michael and Greg a ‘wish me luck’ kind of look and barrelled forward, shouting, “Hey, Burke! It’s Long!”

Hearing his name, Jordan jerked around, eyebrows creased, like he was a paranoid meerkat. “Wha’?”

“Hey!” Forrest called again, closing the distance, a friendly grin spreading. Michael cringed. How could anyone talk to that guy with a friendly tone?

As he approached, Jordan must have recognized him and Michael heard him mutter, “Forrest Long?” like he was scratching the dust balls of memory to recollect his name.

“Long time, man,” Forrest said, like they were old friends. Michael seriously doubted they had ever been close, though. “Hey, how’s Wyatt doing?”

Caught off guard, Jordan shrugged and answered, “I dunno he’s been weird lately.”

“Yeah, I've noticed too,” Forrest said, confidently plowing forward. “Hey, I wanted to talk with you about him. You know, I think he’s just lost sight of his roots and you are just the person to remind him.”

“Yeah?” Jordan said, seemingly swept away by Forrest’s attitude.

“Yeah, seriously, I think you should focus on bringing him back into your fold. In the military, we always gotta remember what it takes to stay strong and be a loyal American.”

“I hear that, brother,” Jordan agreed with a swing of his arm. God, Michael wanted to gag. But, Forrest seemed to be able to penetrate his thick skull by speaking his language.

“Maybe Wyatt needs a guys weekend,” Long suggested. “Hunting, fishing, livin’ off the land like men.”

“He doesn’t seem to be into that right now.” Several of Jordan’s friends nodded in agreement.

“Which is why he needs you and your friends to remind him of the strength of Americans ....”

His strategy seemed to be working, but Michael couldn’t listen to another word of that drivel. Muttering to Greg, Michael turned and went to get another drink.

By now, it was almost pitch black out, with the only light coming from the giant movie screen. Most people were either by their cars or milling around getting snacks and beverages. When he sauntered up to Maria’s stall, Isobel was standing there. Upon seeing her brother, her light smile instantly melted into a grimace.

“Alright I can only take one brother pining,” she announced. “I saw Liz talking to Max earlier. Don’t think she’s in town for long. So, how many drinks are you gonna down before you make out worse than him?”

Her joking tone did nothing to brighten his despondency. “I’m already worse,” he complained. “If both of them get their heads outta their asses, then Max still has a shot with her. But me… man, when I saw them together, saw them kissing, I felt like I was hitting rock bottom.”

Shaking her head, his sister gave him a nudge and said, “Well, then maybe you should tell Alex how you feel.”

“How can I do that? What about Forrest?"

“What about him?” she shot back indignantly. “They only met last year. And Alex has been outta town for the majority of that time since. They probably haven’t been official that long. Alex has been in love with you for ten years. The point is I’ve never felt about anyone the way he feels about you. That means something.”

Michael’s eyelids lowered as he glanced away to contemplate if that was true. What he and Alex had was unique and special, despite how cliché that sounded. After that song and everything Alex had done and was doing in the name of protecting aliens had to signal that there was still a part of him that cared, and cared a great deal. It must be possible to make something out of that.

He was spared from Isobel continuing her encouragement or elaborating because Max found them and his approach triggered her probing questions about the L.A. based scientist.

Swallowing down yet another drink made Michael more reflective than he had been before. Behind him the movie screen flashed different colors and streams of light into his peripheral. He allowed the beer to settle him into submission and he gazed out at the horizon, the lanterns and twinkle lights blurring in his vision as he conceptualized the possibility of who he was and how much control he had over his life. From his importance in Alex’s life to how able he was to affect what might happen to Max, the weight of everything slowly drifted out of his chest and into the breezy night air.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by familiar and celebratory voices coming closer. Greg and Forrest joined their little group around the stall and Michael made sure to down the rest of his drink in preparation.

“Hey,” Forrest said, coming up right next to him, “Burke has been thoroughly distracted. Is there anyone else who needs dealing with it?”

Resisting the urge to compliment him or show gratitude, Michael shrugged and said, "I don't know, probably.”

“Well, if you see anything, I’ll handle it. Gotta know how to talk guys like that down.” He gave Michael a cheerful tap on the shoulder, but received only a nod in return. Forrest then ducked his head and scooped Michael’s near empty cup and napkin, pushing it towards the center of the counter. “Oh hang on, this was falling off the edge. Don’t want you to lose that.”

“Oh, thanks,” Michael murmured in response. With a wink, Forrest moved away as if his job was done.

Inside, Michael fumed at the guy’s affability. He was making it harder to gut hate him. Alex was right; he was a nice guy.

Speaking of Alex, Forrest had disappeared from Michael’s side because his boyfriend had joined them. Alex walked toward Forrest and greeted him with a kiss. At that sight, Michael was able to push past the evidence of Forrest’s good nature and mumbled under his breath, “What a jerk.”

Max snapped his head toward his brother, obviously having heard that and worried others had as well. He quickly muttered something to Michael, reprimanding him. Turning, Max addressed Forrest as if he needed to make up for Michael’s actions.

He heard Max say something to compliment Forrest on how he handled Burke and then they started talking, falling into easy conversation about something Michael wasn’t paying attention to.

Feeling like a worthless jerk, himself, and a little like a scolded child, Michael decided to wander around again. As he walked, he glanced up at the screen and found it fitting as the band of humans all ganged up against the alien. It was kind of a good metaphor for how he felt right now.

He found himself weaving through the cars on the edge, where no one was sitting watching the movie, but stood as a good spot to park and then wander. The absence of people eased his mind.

Eventually, Michael spotted a familiar car and recognized it as Alex’s. As he came close, he definitely confirmed that it was. He felt pulled toward it and began circling the vehicle, inexplicably unable to move away. Oddly, being close to something that Alex owned made him feel safer and made the chaos surrounding him quieter. So, Michael decided to hover around the car and lean against it as he got his bearings, sobering up slowly as the alien battle on the screen raged behind him.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when a little later, Alex found him. He blinked in surprise to see Michael leaning up against his driver’s side door, as if guarding it.

Michael instantly straightened and turned to face him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to– I just…I was just resting a second…”

“No problem,” Alex shrugged, like he understood if Michael needed to be alone and chose Alex’s car as the spot he could compose himself.

Michael pursed his lips, not knowing exactly what to say. Alex didn’t seem like he was in a rush to leave, hands casually in the pockets of his leather jacket. The light of the movie backlit his figure and gave Michael the impression that Alex was glowing, like one of the strapping, solid, courageous heroes from those films.

“Hey, so I heard what happened,” Alex said, taking a careful step toward him. “You were following Jordan looking for a fight. Sounds like old Guerin’s greatest hits.”

Bile nearly rose in Michael’s throat. The last thing he wanted was for Alex to start seeing him like that self-destructive guy again, especially after all he’d done to try and turn things around this year.

“Look, before you give me the lecture,” he said in a rush, “this isn’t me falling into old habits, okay. I was just - uh, I’ve been frustrated. Haven’t had a chance to talk to Jones again since we’ve got Max in on it now. It’s hard to sit around and wait, so I just felt the need to do– something.”

“Okay, I get that,” Alex replied, his body still calm and his face not showing any disappointment. It wasn’t like he was judging, just silently observant. “I don’t wanna lecture you, but can I tell you what I think?”

He shrugged and said, “Go for it. You’ve never been one to hold back.”

“I’m glad you didn’t fight him,” Alex said evenly. “I hope that’s true that you aren’t looking for fights anymore to punish yourself. I mean, I know that guy is scum, but you are better than that. And you deserve to be happier and focus on more positive things.”

The good wishes and support were certainly not expected, but Michael realized that he wasn’t surprised to hear them from Alex’s mouth. If anyone was able to see past the mess into the good underneath the surface of anyone, it was Alex. Michael had been the recipient of that insight and care more times than he probably deserved.

And yet, he couldn’t explain how Alex’s sentiments that he in fact did deserve better made him more hopeful than he’d felt all night. He found that when Alex said it, he actually believed him.

“Thank you,” he said, softly. “I think – with all this craziness going on, I needed to hear that.”

“Good,” Alex said with a satisfied grin.”And hopefully I can help get some clarity too. I started at Deep Sky today. I am feeling it out, making sure the director can be trusted. And I promise I will update when I have some answers.”

“I trust you,” Michael said. It was blunt and simple. But it was true.

Alex merely smiled humbly. It was as if he understood that what he had said placed a certain amount of trust in Michael and his good nature. And Michael was returning the compliment.

Stepping aside, Michael finally allowed Alex a path toward his car door. After ducking his head in thanks, Alex silently got in and drove away.

As he turned away from Alex’s departure, Michael realized that Isobel might’ve been right. There was still a burning connection between him and Alex, a light like the slow flickers of a small flame, just waiting to be fanned and built upon.

He just had to figure out a way to make it happen. Because he couldn’t just sit around and watch another man make Alex happy, while waiting for them to break up. If this didn’t seem like the right time at the moment, then Michael would have to make it their time.

Chapter Text

It was a couple days later after the drive-in that Michael’s animosity toward Forrest Long really spiked.

He hadn’t expected it. In fact his burning jealousy had been sated slightly as he focused on other things, such as what Jones was implying during their interrogations. Now that Max was involved, he felt like they had a good system to rephrase what they learned and try to figure out its validity. With all three of them keeping each other in check, no one was doing anything rash.

Alex hadn’t given a report on his progress at Deep Sky, which probably meant that he was buried in whatever he was working on. While others viewed this as slightly worrying, Michael took it in stride as that probably meant that he was too invested in his work to spend too much time with Forrest.

Both the distraction of alien history and the idea that Forrest was being cockblocked by the very organization he introduced Alex to had Michael in a pretty positive mood.

That was, until Michael drove over one morning to check on Max. He and Isobel had taken turns making regular check-ins in the morning, seeing how Max had slept and seeing how he was feeling, health-wise. Even though his acetone injection regime was extreme, it was seeming to help to a certain extent.

“You actually feel better?” Michael was saying incredulously.

“I can’t explain it either,” Max shrugged, as he ate the last spoonful of his heart-healthy oatmeal. “Maybe the acetone is finally having an effect. I don’t think it’s reversing any damage, but at least it’s easier to rest.”

“Alright,” Michael said, suspiciously keeping his eyes on his brother, “we’ll just see what Valenti has to say.”

As Max begrudgingly agreed to bring this up to Kyle, Michael turned to Max’s stash of acetone, which was currently scattered across his desk. Michael bent to examine the bottles and the syringes that Max had been using to mainline the stuff into his bloodstream, but something else on the desk caught his eye.

Peering more closely, he read the cover of a hard cover book and then snapped his head toward his brother. “Uh, Max what is that?”

“What?” Max said, glancing over to see what Michael was pointing to. When he realized what it was, he began stammering. “Uh, it's a book. I have lots of books. I don’t even know where some of them came from or where I got ‘em.”

“This is a historical text. Written by Forrest Long. You have a copy of his book?!” Michael’s disbelief and shock raised the volume of his voice.

Shrugging his shoulders and gesturing wildly, Max tried to play it off. “Like I said, uh…I don’t really rememb–”

“I know he was researching for his book last year,” Michael snapped. “This must be recently published. Maybe not even widely available yet. Did he give it to you?”

Finally, Max seemed to relent. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?!”

Stepping closer to Michael, the taller alien more sincerely explained,“Okay, okay. I may have… talked to him about his process and publishing.”

Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His brother had known exactly how Michael felt. He had even encouraged him to acknowledge his feelings for Alex and take a shot at getting him back. He’d watched Michael practically explode with envy when he had been forced to witness Alex with another man, and yet Max had somehow befriended that very guy.

“You nerded out over books with the guy?!” Michael shouted, feeling like a thorn was at that moment puncturing his lung.

“It was just one time. It- it didn’t mean anything.”

Rolling his eyes, Michael scoffed, “Right. Sure.”

“I mean, I’m sorry. Alright? I never meant for you to find out.”

Although Max sounded apologetic, Michael could feel the shock and pain of betrayal slowly turning to anger.

“Oh please,” he spat. “You wanted me to find out. You wanted to make me regret my waiting and pining so you left that book out for me to find!”

“No! I didn’t,” Max shot back. “Did it ever occur to you that I was just that stupid and forgot it was there?”

Biting his tongue on the insult just begging to be shouted in reply, Michael took a breath through clenched teeth. “Just tell me one thing. Where did this little book discussion happen, huh? Did he come over?”

“No, I didn’t invite him over, we met at the bar for– uh…” He paused, reluctant to finish the sentence.

Michael’s eyes widened as he detected the rapidly growing lump in his throat. Swallowing around it, he choked out, “You got drinks with him?! You hung out at a bar? That was our thing this whole summer!”

“Michael, I–” Max desperately tried to apologize or explain, but Michael was too upset to hear any of it.

“Okay, you know what, dying or not, I can’t be around you right now!”

Stomping out Max’s door, not even caring about the door slamming behind him, he tried taking deep calming breaths. He was ready to let his telekinesis overcome him and flip over some of Max’s outdoor furniture. He might even be furious enough to overturn his Jeep.

And yet, he didn’t want to be that guy anymore who resorted to those outbursts of anger. Huffing the whole way to his truck, he tried desperately to calm himself, and yet the sting of betrayal flared hot in his chest.

How could Max do this? This was his best friend. His brother. One of the people who knew him best in the world. And he had a friendly get together over drinks with the one person who made Michael’s blood boil.

As much as it hurt to see Alex with Forrest, the main obstacle to their cosmic happiness, it almost hurt just as much to know that his brother had laughed, drank and had a good time chatting about books with that guy.

Running a shaky hand through his curls, Michael clenched his jaw to get a grip and not let that lump in his throat spread to his eyes and burn into tears. He needed to get away. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to be around Max until he was able to breathe through the betrayal.

***

That afternoon, Michael was able to distance himself from the ache from the encounter with Max this morning. Working at the junkyard, spending the day solving problems and fixing engines, seemed to give his mind a good cleansing, focusing on only what his hands were doing and sending his conflicting emotions into a blank oblivion.

Among the cars and open air, he felt a potent loneliness creep over him. It was as if he existed in his own world, his own planet with an ecosystem and a way of life unique unto itself.

In this solitude with nothing but metal scraps, parts, and tools, Michael was able to breathe, and yet there was a coldness that he was all too familiar with from his nights as a child all alone, waiting for someone. The feeling made him nostalgic for the fierce independence that gave him confidence. If he could survive on his own in his youth and into adulthood, then he could overcome anything. And yet, it had been some time since he’d felt that loneliness, and as it washed over him, he sank into a sort of despondency.

He hadn’t seen Sanders in a while. And yet, he didn’t really want to stop. Keeping busy relieved the heaviness inside him. Making progress and being productive, even simple mechanical productivity, eased some of his worry and stress.

So, he took up another project. And after that, another work order. Knee-deep in an engine was where he needed to focus his mind.

He wasn’t stressed about Jones, about Alex, about his boyfriend, the interloper, about Max’s critical health nor his recent treason.

As he emerged from under a hood and reached for a rag to wipe his hands, he heard a car pull up toward the shop. He turned, ready to bluntly ask Sanders where the hell he’d been. Instead, he saw a sheriff’s department vehicle.

Michael groaned. So, it took Max practically the whole day to work up the nerve to face him. The afternoon sun blazed despite the chill in the air. And it grew even colder as Max stepped out, walking straight toward him.

“Hey,” he called, stepping closer than Michael wanted him. After being alone for most of the day, he felt almost suffocated by his presence. He promptly ignored him and stared back at his array of tools. “Come on, Michael, talk to me,” Max implored.

Clenching his teeth, Michael muttered, “Talk is cheap. And I got customers who are worth more of my time. Gotta make a livin’, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Max said, loudly and with arms out as if giving himself up for sacrifice.

“Good for you,” Michael spat. “Apologies are good for the soul.”

Taking a few steps toward him, Max sputtered, “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Well, I don't care because I'm not really listening.” His anger was rising, as it had that morning.

“How many times can I say I’m sorry?”

“Sorry? Sorry that it’s your knife in my back?” Michael’s tone was sharp as he turned his back to him, stalking over toward the car with the exposed engine.

Max didn’t let him get far, following right on his heels. “So, we hung out? We had fun. Is that such a big deal?”

Tension in his shoulders rising to the surface, Michael released it clanging a wrench against the metal of the car. “Yes, Max, it is! It is a big deal.” He roared as he faced him, standing only inches away. “Okay? It’s not enough that he swooped in and stole the guy that I am supposed to be with, but now… he’s actually stealing my brother too.”

“Michael, what are you talking about?” Max demanded, shaking his head, hands on his stupidly large belt. “We spent this whole year reconnecting. You, me and Isobel. I–”

Ducking his head, Michael groaned into his wrists as his hands were too dirty to rub over his face.

Max sighed, audible even with the wind whipping around them. “Is that really why you’re upset?”

Closing his eyes at Max’s sad tone, Michael murmured. “Yeah, I just– don’t wanna lose anyone else.”

Max dropped his gaze and lowered his voice as he said, “I’m sorry I kept secrets from you. But that—this past year–that wasn’t all for nothing. That meant so much to me.”

“Yeah, me too,” Michael admitted. “And we are gonna find a way to keep you around.”

Scoffing and shaking his head, he said with a sort of light amusement, “You never give up on me do you?”

“Well, you never gave up on me, so…”

Without another word, Max pulled him in a reluctant hug. Michael wrapped his arms around him all the same, keeping his hands off his uniform jacket. He stepped away quickly so he could hide his gaze again, somehow embarrassed at letting his jealousy get the better of him again.

“Look,” Max said, sympathetically, “I know it’s important to you for everyone to hate Forrest right now. But you gotta know he really didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just a guy who met Alex, liked him and is going out with him. And you guys actually have a lot in common. If you gave him a chance you’d like him.”

“I know I’d like him,” Michael said with a short-temper. “I know he’s a nice guy… That’s what sucks.”

His brother hummed, thoughtfully, like he was really starting to understand. “I get that.”

After that, it seemed the matter was settled. At least, it was between Max and Michael. But this whole thing seemed to make Michael think, to reconsider this burning rage that he had been plagued with since Alex had returned.

So, later that night, he made a decision. After the sun set, he found himself lounging in some of the open seating at The Wild Pony outdoor patio, waiting to have a drink with Forrest Long.

He decided to take a page out of Max’s book. The guy had eagerly responded to Michael’s invitation and even seemed like he was looking forward to the meet up. Michael eased himself deeper into the seat and fiddled with his bottle. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

After the greetings and small-talk catch-up, they fell into a semi-awkward silence. “So…” Forrest tried to start.

Clearing his throat, Michael tried as well. “So… Forrest. I, uh, just thought it’d be cool if uh, if we hung out more. You know, other than the library, we haven’t really talked much. …I guess you know that.”

“Right,” he drawled. His mouth twitched, nodding his head as if deciding whether or not to say something. “I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, but I'm a little intimidated by you.”

“What?” Michael exclaimed in surprise. He had been so consumed with how Forrest made him feel, he hadn’t thought of how the guy saw him.

“Yeah,” he smirked, widening his hands in a ‘what can I say’ gesture. “Alex admires you so much. And your opinion meant a lot to him in terms of accepting me and letting me in on the secret. I just wanted you to like me. It’s probably me just being paranoid, but… I kinda got the feeling you were suspicious of me.”

The thought of dismissing this outright popped into his mind. But, he found himself pausing and then, sighing, he muttered, “Well, you’re not totally paranoid.”

Forrest’s eyebrows jerked upward into his dark hairline. “Oh boy,” he said, like he was bracing himself.

Michael squeezed the beer bottle in his fist and searched for the courage he didn’t think he had. Slowly, he started to explain, “Ugh, so, when you and Alex started hanging out, it was, uh, hard for me to see… for a lot of reasons that I won’t go into now. But, I see how happy he is. And he deserves that. Max said you were a nice guy. And god I hate it when he’s right.”

Pursing his lips as if considering what Michael had said, Forrest glanced away for a moment, then looked back at him. “Alright, then. Thanks.”

Michael nodded, assuming the gratitude was for agreeing with Max’s assessment.

“Hey, do you wanna shoot some pool later?” Forrest asked.

Inhaling a steadying breath, Michael vacillated. In a quick, spur of the moment decision, probably brought on by the alcohol and the sentimentality of the offer, he said, “Yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

“Nice. I’m gonna get another drink. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Michael raised his bottle as Forrest stood up and walked away.

While he watched the distance between them lengthen, Michael searched for something inside him, some kind of relief, or epiphany, or contentment from the reconciliation. When he found none, he mumbled under his breath, “Hhmmph. What a manipulative son of a bitch.”

***

Even though Michael’s mood improved throughout the rest of the evening, due to an enjoyable game of pool, wherein he might’ve used some of his alien powers to ensure he beat Forrest, and a healthy supply of drinks from the bar, unfortunately, his attitude toward Alex’s boyfriend hadn’t improved much.

He confirmed this when Alex, himself, joined them, seemingly exhausted after a long day at his new secret paramilitary research job. When he walked in and Michael saw him, face lined but still smiling, he knew in his gut that he couldn’t be friends with Forrest. It just wasn’t possible.

In fact, Forrest having common interests with Michael, a sharp sense of humor, and an ability to hold his liquor actually had the opposite effect and made Michael more infuriated.

He watched the two of them with envious eyes as Alex tried to catch up by knocking back a couple shots, which Forrest strongly encouraged. The whole time, Michael tried to stay cool, but was constantly wary of signs that Forrest's relationship with Alex was going too far.

At some point in the evening, Forrest started making several apologies, to which Alex was trying to assure him that everything was fine. Insatiably curious, Michael moved toward them and tried to eavesdrop.

“Are you sure?” Forrest was saying, a ringed hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“Yes, ugh,” Alex replied. His exaggerated tone and expression told Michael he had ingested perhaps one too many. “You gotta be ready for that meeting. And you know how hard it is for you to get up in the morning. Your book is more important than seeing me home. Go! Go!”

“Fine,” Forrest relented, dragging his fingers along Alex’s cheek and down his jaw. “But only because I trust that Maria won’t let you leave unless you are able to get home safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alex assured, but sounded annoyed at the hovering. “Get outta here.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss him quickly. Before he turned to the exit, he called, “See ya, Guerin!”

“Later, Forrest!” Michael waved, silently glad to see him depart. Without waiting for him to fully leave the bar, Michael scooted right up next to Alex.

He didn’t say anything, just placed himself in Alex’s proximity. Just watching Alex finish his drink, which may or may not have been wise of him, made Michael itch with desire.

After smacking his lips together, the man in question turned and noticed Michael sitting close. “Hey,” he said with a bubbly smile, nudging him with his elbow. “How’s it going?”

“Hey,” Michael said, recoiling from the elbowing, but chuckling as if it ticked. “How’s it going with you? Had enough to drink?”

“Mmmm,” Alex hummed happily. “Plenty.”

Smirking and raising his bottle to him, Michael said, “Good for you. You deserve it.”

Huffing a laugh, Alex nodded. Then, he started fidgeting in his chair. Michael thought it was kind of cute how the alcohol was affecting him. He was pretty adorable when he was tipsy.

“And you’re good, right?” Alex asked.

Not knowing what exactly Alex was referring to, Michael just shrugged and said, “Yeah.” He turned in his stool so that he was facing Alex more. Although he wanted to get closer, he kept a respectable distance. But, Alex’s initiating a conversation allowed him the excuse to give him his full attention. “Fine. Why?”

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, leaning his elbow on the bar counter.

“Sure,” Michael replied immediately.

After a moment, Alex scrunched his nose and said, “Nah! Nevermind.”

Now Michael was intrigued. He knew Alex was a little far gone, but that only made him more curious as to what Alex had on his mind. “No, no, tell me.”

Flopping his head back and forth, Alex looked like he was internally debating. The alcohol must’ve won because he scratched his neck and said tentatively, “Do you think it’s weird to work with someone you’re seeing? Like if you’re seeing too much of each other, is it okay to - you know- not spend as much time with each other later? Like not spending the night together…?”

Michael blinked. That was not at all what he was expecting Alex to say. Was he confessing things about his relationship with Forrest? And if so, was he actually asking for Michael’s advice or opinion? How much had Alex had tonight?

“What?” Michael spurted in reply. “Why- why, are you and Forrest not spending nights together?”

Alex opened his mouth to respond, but after a second closed it. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too much information.”

“No, no… it’s cool,” Michael insisted. His heart was pounding now. There being a hint of an issue in their relationship made Michael feel elated. And the fact that Alex was trusting him with this information– even though the alcohol might’ve been to blame– gave him a supreme sense of superiority. Michael was the guy Alex trusted enough to talk to. Just like Alex had always been the person that Michael wanted to be around when he was upset.

That heightened feeling made him try to poke more holes in their relationship. “I mean- is it because he’s cold in bed? Just wanting to keep things casual or not get too serious?”

Alex groaned. “I-uh- I think it’s me. Maybe I just don’t wanna rush it. I don’t know. I’ve never really been in a real relationship before and public displays of affection have never been easy for me. So, spending work and evenings together seems like a lot of pressure.”

“Hey, I get it,” Michael said, wanting to agree with anything that called for a halt in their intimacy. He couldn’t resist adding, “And you know, as someone who knows your background, I bet I understand better than Forrest does.”

“Yeah?” Alex’s voice lowered, hinting at the more serious topic. “Well, it’s true that I haven't told him the extent of what my dad did to me, to you.”

Michael felt a small thrill at sharing something with Alex that Forrest never could. “Exactly. That’s a lot to deal with. Believe me, I know. You don’t wanna rush it and be too public either.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Alex nodded. “The last thing I want is to panic and push him away, make him think he isn't wanted.”

Temptation buzzed under Michael’s skin. He could feel his heart in his throat. Boldly, he said, “You know what I would do?”

“What?” Alex asked, innocently.

“I would wait,” Michael said, an edge to his voice, coating every word with contempt for the guy. “Yeah, I would keep your distance for now. Make sure you’re really comfortable with him before you start spending nights together. And if he drops hints or if he acts like he wants to stay over your house, you should kick him out, make some excuse. It’d be better for your relationship in the long run.”

Resting his chin on his fist, Alex asked, “You think?”

“Absolutely,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. “In fact, not spending every second together will probably make him more into you. You know, leave him wanting more and all that.”

Despite Michael’s rambling argument and obvious bias, the tequila must’ve made him seem quite convincing, because Alex muttered, “Good point.”

The rest of the night was a blur. After receiving the advice, Alex recognized his semi-intoxicated state and made sure to chug water to sober up. Michael ensured that he was in good shape to drive home. He thought at some point he would start to feel guilty for what he’d said. And yet, when he went to bed that night, he found himself thinking of Alex and smiling.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Michael really hated large group settings. He much preferred the check-ins with one or two people, which made for a more personal connection.

When he sat with a lot of people, he tended to sink into the background. It wasn’t easy for him to participate unless he had something very important to say. He’d much rather sit in a corner and maybe chat with one person, more intimately, than have to come up with grand statements that would entertain the masses in the group.

Michael admitted that he enjoyed others’ company. And friendly atmospheres did have a certain comfort. But sometimes he didn’t like the scrutiny that came with more than two sets of eyes staring at him, expecting something from him.

So, Michael liked to sit back and take in all of the information, maybe make some side comments and make whatever contribution he needed to before making a dramatic exit.

This strategy was what he was employing when Alex had called everyone together to share what information he’d gathered at Deep Sky so far. Michael honestly hadn’t expected to hear from Alex so soon. His message that morning wasn’t exactly urgent, but Maria had jumped in and suggested everyone gather at The Pony during lunch. Since several others agreed, Michael joined in, but was lounging in the back.

Kyle was very invested in hearing about the reports of the crash, which Alex discovered involved some details on soldiers including a Valenti. Forrest was, irritatingly, all tied up with that research, particularly looking to corroborate facts from the story that Jones had fed them.

Isobel had passed off details as well as a curious piece of turquoise stone from the pod cave. Both of which Alex had made good use of, apparently, through a project he was working on and explaining in annoyingly vague terms.

Seeing Alex so bright and energetic made him think about last night, when they had spent time talking alone, Alex’s tongue loosened by alcohol.

Michael wondered if Alex remembered what they’d discussed, if he was still having doubts about Forrest, or if that was just the insecure ramblings brought on by tequila. The way Alex was looking at his boyfriend right now, seeming enraptured by what he said, told Michael that Alex might have gotten over the nerves he’d expressed last night.

Forrest was blathering on about reports of crop circles and mysterious animal slaughterings, and seemed to be pointing the finger at Jones.

“The timing of these reports is very suspicious,” he was saying. “The seemingly unconnected reports of violence all within that exact location radius all could be explained by this guy, though. It wasn’t easy to catch. Given that none of these were achieved under suspected alien activity. Some of these sightings were categorized under the different coding system, due to the original filers assuming the causes. So, there’s a trick to finding what you’re looking for by searching for specific tags and labels. From there, one can make an assessment on where it fits into the puzzles.”

Alex grinned and said softly, “You’re amazing. Is there anything you don’t know?”

Shrugging modestly, Forrest continued. The flimsy hope of something coming between them and destroying that relationship dissolved with Alex’s flirtatious smile and Forrest hiding his affection. It made Michael’s jealousy roar to life as he sat with his arms crossed.

Behind his back, Michael mocked, under his breath, “Oh, Forrest is so smart. Forrest is so special.”

His sister, Isobel, was close enough to hear it. Sighing, she leaned over and muttered, “Hey, I wanted you to get back with Alex too. But he’s with Forrest now, so you’re just gonna have to get over it.”

“Oh, get over it?” Michael repeats exaggeratingly, but still in a whisper. “See I didn’t know that’s what I had to do? I just have to get over it!” Michael throws himself over the back of his chair dramatically.

Isobel glared at him to not make a scene where others might see. But when he popped back up, no one was looking at him. They were too busy figuring out where they all went from there.

Kyle was eying Max, who cleared his throat and said, “So, while some parts of Jones’ story are resonating and aligning with these reports of Jones’ movements around town, everything is looking like he has destructive tendencies. But…there might still be reason to trust him.”

“And those reasons are…?” Maria asked.

Gulping down some obvious nerves, Max explained, “I might need help sooner than we thought. I- uh, I unknowingly put a handprint on Liz when she was here earlier this week at the drive-in. She’s back in LA but contacted Kyle–”

“Because apparently I’m being used as the mediator,” Kyle interrupted.

“Right,” Max nodded, a little guiltily, “because she’s been experiencing some of my symptoms. It took a few days for her to realize, but when the handprint showed up, she figured out that somehow my body is using the handprint to siphon off some energy from her. And in turn, she’s been feeling some of the fatigue and dizziness I’ve been feeling lately.

“Is Liz okay?” Maria demanded, worried. “Is this a problem?”

“Not yet,” Kyle assured. “Her symptoms aren’t that bad yet and haven’t gotten to where Evans was, on the verge of heart failure.”

Max added, “It’s like the handprint is balancing out the symptoms between us. We want to try to find a solution as soon as possible before my condition deteriorates and pulls more from Liz than she can handle.”

Isobel, slapping her hands down on a table, concluded, “Well, since a lot of Jones' story is backed up by what the hardy boys were able to dig up, Max might be able to trust him, if we overlook his need to charge himself up by slaughtering animals. The prevailing theory and hope right now is that Jones can use his powers to heal Max instantly.”

“Do we think he needs some kind of incentive or bribe?” Alex inquired.

“That’s the next step of our plan,” Isobel said.

“Well, once you guys make it to that step, you know where to find me,” Kyle said, standing up. “I’ll make sure that he actually heals what he claims he will.”

As the meeting was seemingly adjourned, everyone followed Kyle’s lead and stood to disperse. Michael hopped up, wanting to make a clean getaway. He wasn’t expecting Alex to walk right up to him and block his movement.

His body went rigid so close to Alex’s. The desire to get nearer compounded against the effort it took to restrain himself. And yet, the breath seemed to hitch in his chest when he felt that familiar tingling of close contact and smelled the scent of his cologne.

“Guerin,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t causing an intense magnetic reaction. “You know how I mentioned that the turquoise had a unique effect on the project I was working on?”

“Without any further details mentioned,” Michael said, bitterly, wanting to add a little space between them even if it wasn’t physical. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t explain more,” Alex said, his eyes wide. “It’s most likely alien in nature, but I haven’t determined if it’s dangerous or even useful. So…I was actually hoping to experiment more. And was wondering if you had any more turquoise stones.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Michael muttered, and he was actually very sincere. Whatever Alex had found at Deep Sky sounded like an alien mystery that he himself wanted to get his hands on.

As if reading his mind, Alex dipped his head toward Michael and said gently, “If I can assess its nature, then I promise to tell you everything I know. And maybe…I can figure out a way to have you take a look. I think your expertise might be useful, if it comes to it.”

Immediately, Michael felt his guard lowering. Alex had a way of making him want to trust, despite that being his absolute last instinct. His heart just wanted to hold hope when it came to Alex.

“I do… have some more,” he said. “It’s in my bunker. I can get some to you later.”

Alex shifted his weight, a thoughtful look on his face. “Actually, I’m going to Deep Sky now, so…is there any way that I can come over and grab some before I go?”

Michael’s stomach fluttered at the idea of being down in his bunker with Alex again. Whenever they’d been alone there before, it had always been tense and yet somehow intimate. “Um, sure. I was going back to the junkyard anyway. So, uh, I can meet you there.”

“Great,” Alex said with that warm, gratified smile.

Michael wanted to see that smile on his face more often, so he just nodded and resolved to give him whatever he needed.

Once they arrived back at the junkyard, Michael ensured no one was around as he swung his trailer back to reveal the hidden door. For a moment, he thought that Alex might just expect him to pop down, grab the stones and haul them back up so Alex could be on his way. Heart sinking, he rethought the matter and that would probably be more appropriate as it was harder for Alex to climb all the way down.

So, as much as he wanted to drag out this time with Alex alone, he cared too much about what he needed. Sighing, thinking that his growth and selflessness was much for nothing if he couldn't have Alex, Michael made his way quickly down the ladder.

To his great surprise, above him he heard the sounds of clamor and looked up to see Alex following him into his lair.

“You didn’t have to–” Michael began, but paused, as didn’t want to offend Alex, making it seem like he wasn’t able to come down or that Michael didn’t want him down here. That couldn’t be further from the truth. “I woulda just brought them up.”

“That’s okay,” Alex said, catching his breath as he stepped down. “You’re doing me the favor. Also, you told me they resonate with your tech, so I thought maybe you could show me.”

Raising his eyebrows, for a second he forgot his concern for Alex. “You think what you got at Deep Sky is similar to alien tech?”

Tilting his head, Alex opened his mouth, but he didn’t say anything. Michael realized he probably couldn’t say more.

Groaning, Michael sighed, “Fine. Whatever. You don’t have to tell me. Yet.”

“Thank you,” Alex said with a small smile.

Michael bit his lip and obliged, stepping closer to his worktable and spreading his arms out wide in an invitation for Alex to join him.

As he explained what he’d seen and demonstrated the glimmering when it came in close proximity, Alex watched with fascination. Michael particularly liked how his eyes lit up when he had a question or comment.

When he grabbed the few stones for Alex to take, he thought that would be the end of their conversation. However, Alex carefully placed the turquoise in his pack and turned to Michael, with no inclination of exiting.

The low lighting of the bunker made his dark hair shine like the edge of the moon when the light hit it. Michael couldn’t look away.

“Hey, thank you for talking that out with me the other night,” he said, hesitantly. “I think I was a little drunk and may have overshared. So I appreciate you humoring me.”

Michael’s breath hitched, recalling his boldness at the bar. “Hey, no problem.” Picking up a small rag, he wrung his hands through it so he could deal with his nerves as he asked, “So you’re, uh, gonna wait on spending the night?”

“Well, I was thinking about it,” Alex admitted, carefully acknowledging the topic. “But then I talked to Kyle.”

Clenching his fists, Michael bore the sting of knowing that Kyle was probably a better confidant and friend than Michael for Alex to go to with this. “Uh huh… and what did he say?”

“Well, he said to just get over myself and get it over with. Just invite him to spend the night.” Alex looked like he was inclined to take that advice.

“Right,” Michael said, not wanting to come off as argumentative. “Nothing wrong with self-confidence.”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, staring off into the distance. “I feel like I’ve grown a lot. You know, a year ago I couldn’t even kiss him in public and so I’ve come a long way.”

He might as well have stabbed a knife into Michael’s chest. After swallowing down a limp in his throat, he said in an impressively steady voice, “Yeah, good for you.”

Finally, it became too much to keep looking at Alex and so he tried to seem busy with organizing his worktable.

Alex seemed to take that as a sign, because he said, “Bye, Guerin.”

The thought of Alex going to spend the night with his boyfriend after work today filled him with such fury. He wanted to rage at Forrest or at Alex for making such a stupid decision. But, he knew that wasn’t really the source of his wrath. Angry at himself, he bit out, “Yeah, hey, good luck tonight.”

At that tone, Alex scoffed and turned around. “Why do you think I need luck?”

Running a hand through his curls, he jerked to face him, adopting a pretense of indifference. “No, you don’t. Of course not. As long as you got a plan.”

With a lilt to his mouth, Alex said, “Usually I do have a plan. But… I don’t now…I was going to wing it…maybe I'm still too nervous.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be that hard,” Michael said, shaking his head. Damn, despite everything, Alex deserved to be happy. “You gotta stop thinking about what other people think and just do what you want.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex grunted, pacing a bit. “I gotta get rid of my dad’s voice in my head. I thought I’d done that.”

“You have.” Michael tried locking eyes with him. “I see you. And you’re not the same guy who never wanted anyone to know anything about your personal life or was scared of what something might look like.”

Slowly, Alex mumbled, “Yeah.”

“I mean, if it were me… I’d just want you to be yourself.” Taking a few tentative steps forward, Michael started speaking softly, earnestly. “You know, let yourself get swept up in the moment.”

Alex’s body was still, listening and taking that in. Michael continued, thinking about what he, himself, would want. As a result, his voice began to shake. “I’d want you to forget about the world and just kiss me. Get lost in our kiss and run your hands through my hair…”

As he stepped even closer, Alex didn’t move. They were standing only a few inches apart. His eyes seemed to be gazing straight through him, into the core of him, from where these words were stirring. “...And stare into my eyes, let me know that something good was about to happen…and then pull me in close, so I’m pressed up against you… It’d get really intense and hot and, and then it’s just happening. And you’re not thinking too much.”

Alex swallowed. His lips parted. And for a moment it seems as though they might kiss.

Before they leaned in closer, Alex jerked back as if suddenly realizing what he’s doing. “Um, I’m sorry, I–”

Gulping, Michael instantly pulled back and murmured. “No, I'm sorry.”

Alex, backed up to the ladder, retreating fast like he was scared that staying too close would make him lose control.

“Goodnight, Guerin,” he muttered before stumbling up the ladder.

***

Over the next couple of days, Michael kept himself busy enough to not constantly obsess over Alex and wonder what he was doing in his spare time or who he was spending it with.

While he had plenty of time to analyse what that interaction in his lair meant, the fact that he hadn’t heard from him or seen him made it a little easier to bear the implications.

Besides his messed up love life, Michael’s energy was being taken up by the imminent need for their alien prisoner to be securely on their side and get healing. So, he and his siblings were prepping at the Crashdown as a kind of breakfast strategy meeting, fueling up and discussing their approach for the day to present Jones with the opportunity to prove himself.

“I don’t want this to come off as an interrogation,” Max was saying as he sipped his coffee. “Those memories he shared seemed real. So, the best play is to show some kind of trust. And that will make him want to live up to that and agree.”

“But, the question is do you really trust those memories?” Michael quirked, sticking his fork into some crash-browns.

Before his brother could answer, Isobel chimed in. “Even if you do, he’s admitted that this power comes from destruction and needs balance. What if he says he needs to kill someone before he heals you?”

“That’s possible,” Max admitted, sighing. “But it’s also possible we could find a way to charge or gain energy from a different source. That’s another thing I wanna ask and bring up.”

“What?” Michael scoffed. “Like getting struck by lightning again?”

Shaking her head, Isobel said, “I’m still concerned that he said he’s gonna need strength. He could also just zap your energy when he heals you?”

“Which is why we’re framing this the way we are,” Max said. “We’ve taken the precautions and he’s gonna know we are. If he wants our full trust and to be released, then he has to know that keeping with this deal is the way.”

Michael shrugged. “I think Isobel has a point, though. Max, you felt powerful after you killed with your powers. What if that happens with this guy even after he’s charged up and goes off the deep end like you nearly did?”

Groaning into his plate, Max snapped his head up and said, “We will make sure to bring that up when we talk to him later. But I gotta tell you, I got a good feeling the last time when he described trying to save me.”

Michael looked down to his food, trying not to think about the implication that his mother was the enemy in that situation.

Suddenly, Isobel warned, “Michael! Don’t look.” Her efforts were entirely counterproductive as Michael’s curiosity snapped to attention. Seeing his expression of wonder, Isobel muttered, “Alex is outside with Forrest.”

As if involuntarily, Michael’s eyes scoured the panes of the door and the windows next to their booth for a view through the glass. It wasn’t hard to find them, just as Isobel said, standing on the sidewalk. They looked to be talking with heads bent together and touching softly.

After swallowing down his surprise at the sight, he blinked at Max and Isobel and said, “I’m fine.”

For once, Michael didn’t feel like he was lying. If there was one thing he learned, it was that no matter the time apart or the separate relationships they found themselves in, Alex and Michael would always have a cosmic connection. Every time they had a real moment alone, Michael could feel it. It was almost uncanny, when he actually thought about it. Even when he’d been dating Maria, there had been a handful of times when it had just been Michael and Alex, talking, or in a serious situation, where they had felt that pull toward each other and it had felt safe and easy.

Despite Alex realizing that he had been feeling that magnetic tug and resisting, Michael still felt satisfied. Of course Alex would’ve been flustered. He did have a boyfriend after all. Perhaps Alex had been contemplating his feelings for Michael these past couple days. Even if he hadn’t been, Michael knew that beyond a doubt that there was something between them still. It couldn’t be denied. It could be resisted, and delayed, but not forever. And that comforted Michael more than he could say.

“You sure?” his sister asked, doubtfully. “What about your–”

“Oh, my whole insane jealousy thing?” Michael scoffed, breezily. “I’ve decided I'm over it. We had a moment in my bunker the other day. Our chemistry hasn’t changed. Which means that just because Alex is with Forrest now doesn’t mean it’s gonna last. So, he can do whatever he wants with him in the meantime. Press him up against The Crashdown window if he wants. For all I care, he can throw him through the window.”

At that last comment, Max huffed, “Yeah, sounds like you’ve mellowed out.”

Michael made a face at his sarcasm. And that was the moment Alex and Forrest decided to finally come in. The bell on the door dinged as they made their way over to the counter and Michael purposefully averted his gaze, trying to prove his indifference.

He had mostly finished his breakfast by the time that the two guys realized they were there, sitting at a booth and came over to say hello.

Despite his assertion that he wasn’t bothered by their relationship because of the hope for an inevitable breakup, that didn’t mean Michael enjoyed watching both of them up close with their arms around each other.

As they came up to their table, Forrest said, “Hey, guys.”

Alex asks, “Have you guys uh, done your- interrogation project yet?” Michael appreciated Alex trying to be subtle in public, which is more than they had been doing before.

“Not yet,” Max responded. “That’s the plan for today.”

“Alright, good luck,” Forrest said, grinning.

“I’m still skeptical.” Isobel said. “Alex, I was actually wondering if Deep Sky has more on The Dictator. That is, more than what you were able to provide before.”

While Michael was concerned Alex might take a slight to that or feel some pressure, Alex seemed to nod and take it in stride. “I get closer and closer every day. Don’t worry, I know how to reach you when I find stuff.”

“Hey, speaking of staying connected,” Forrest said, addressing Isobel, “I sent both you and Max friend requests on Facebook. But, Guerin, I couldn't find you.”

Michael shied away from Forrest’s attention. “Yeah, not really a Facebook kinda guy.” He grabbed his coffee cup and took a sip, shrugging.

“Neither is Alex,” Forrest chuckled. He amusingly and affectionately looked at his boyfriend who rolled his eyes. “But, his face made it on there. Even though it took some convincing to let me post it.”

Straightening in her seat and leaning toward them intrigued, Isbobel asked curiously, “You posted a picture of Alex?”

“Of the two of us,” the historian confirmed.

Michael sat frozen, staring at them both, unsure of what exactly he was feeling at that moment, but it was like his brain had stopped working.

Isobel did not seem to be suffering from the same affliction. “Oh, wow. So, it’s kinda Facebook official, huh?”

“If that’s even a thing still, sure,” Forrest said, with a small laugh.

“Technically,” Alex said, “I think ‘Facebook official’ is when you change your status which you can’t do if I’m not on there too.”

“Well, I did the best I could, then,” Forrest said flirtily.

An image popped into Michael’s mind unwittingly of Forrest sweetly and softly asking permission to post some cute photo of them that they took together on a whim. He could picture Alex blushing and wavering over the decision in his mind before trusting his boyfriend and deciding to push through his fears and show his heart to the world.

And Forrest had helped him do that…

“Well, look at the time, I gotta go,” Michael said, abruptly.

“Aren’t you going together to the desert?” Alex asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Michael said, thinking quickly. “But uh, I gotta do something first. I’ll meet you guys over there.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Max said, just going with it.

Grateful that neither him nor Isobel was contradicting him or giving him a hard time, Michael stood and scooted around the happy couple.

“Careful on the road over,” Michael said to his siblings as he headed for the door. Then, glancing at Alex and Forrest, he sputtered, “And you guys…stay careful on Facebook.”

The second he turned to exit, his jovial expression relaxed into something more distressed, like what he was feeling inside. Without necessarily meaning to, the door slammed behind him.

Chapter Text

Michael choked down the last dregs of his beer. His belly was swelling with how much he’d drunk so far that night. Despite the discomfort and bloating, he knew he wanted another.

As he eyed the bar counter and licked his lips, he wondered if he shouldn’t switch to a harder liquor. It might make him sick by the end of the night, but his mood hadn’t improved yet since he’d gotten to The Pony, so desperate times called for desperate orders.

“Haven’t seen you in here much,” a voice interrupted his musings. Maria came around the counter, eyeing him with a curious look. “Hope this isn’t Alex related.”

Since there was clearly no avoiding the topic or denying why he was here, drinking more than he had in over a year, he decided to steer into the skid. “Are you friends with Forrest on Facebook?” he asked, fiddling with his glass.

She cocked an eyebrow and huffed. “Sounds Alex related.” Michael stared at her, not letting her skate around answering the question. She eventually shook her head and said, “And yeah I think so.”

“How many friends does he have?” he demanded. “Like real people that might see what he posted recently…”

She flinched as if not exactly expecting that or perhaps Michael had shouted. He couldn’t exactly tell how loud he was being.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Probably a lot of friends. But not all of them follow him, so they don’t see everything immediately in their feed.”

Michael felt himself stammer as he asked, “But a decent amount would? Like maybe half?”

“Maybe. Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh, great,” Michael scoffed. He was itching to shove something else down his throat that might make him forget.

“Beer?” she asked.

“Something stronger,” he sighed.

“Tequila?”

Michael nodded. By the time she poured, Michael was wondering what caption had accompanied the photo and was stressing himself out. Pushing the glass toward him, she said, “Cheers.”

Immediately Michael started downing it. “Yeah, cheers, whatever.”

It had been a long day. Jones had been his pretentious, preening self, claiming he was their only hope and putting the pressure on Max. Everything was now happening so fast and Michael wasn’t exactly happy about it.

Most of the afternoon was a blur. Once the deal with the renegade alien was handled, Michael had no other distractions for him to focus on. And like an alluring siren, the deep bottles at the bar called to him.

So much for his resolution to drink less tequila. That particular goal on his road to becoming a more worthy person was swirling straight down the drain.

Screw it, he thought. Part of why he was doing all that was for Alex. But hell if he was close to getting Alex back now.

Oh, no. Alex was sooo happy with his new boyfriend. So happy that he wanted the world to see how cute they were together and took adorable photos of the two of them to shove in people’s faces on social media.

A hot burn through his chest made him uncomfortable sitting in this stool. To ease the ache, he bent over, back curled and arched, as he laid his head down on the counter.

He tried telling himself that if Alex was happy, then he was happy. The man deserved to finally be able to be himself and unashamed in this town. Michael was so, so proud of him for allowing a public image like that to be posted. That marked a huge amount of growth for him.

But, the stinging sensation inside him returned as he resented that this level of acceptance couldn’t have happened with him. What was so wrong with Michael that Alex had shied away from other people knowing about them and seeing them together in public?

Scrunching his hand into a fist, he knocked it against his forehead. Shut up, Guerin, he told himself. If anyone understood Alex’s history, it was him. He knew deep down that Alex had struggled with worrying about getting himself or his partners hurt because of others finding out. After what his father had done, it was easy to fear violent consequences.

Hell, Michael, himself, had even felt the pressure of keeping parts of his life private. Sometimes, he preferred the safety he felt when he could be sure no one could walk in or interrupt an intimate moment.

Michael groaned out loud and wiped a palm down his face. How in the world could he blame Alex? How in the world could he sit here and feel hurt because Alex hadn’t been ready with him, but felt ready now?

But, damn, Michael wanted to be the guy who he was with now. If Michael had called him this summer, what might’ve happened? Would he have had the courage to share how he felt? Would he and Alex be taking cute pictures together at this point?

Sure, neither of them really cared about social media, but maybe Michael would get on that just so that he could brag about his awesome boyfriend and unabashedly show people how proud he was to have Alex in his life. Michael finished the rest of his drink and made a face when he reached the bottom and couldn’t suck anymore. Damn, Forrest was so lucky.

After ordering a couple more drinks with tequila included in the ingredients, Michael finally felt lighter. Maybe he was processing his hurt feelings, but also that might’ve just been the alcohol numbing his brain.

Man, the drinks tasted good, though. They were sweet, but they burned as they went down, just like love. Michael sipped slowly, as if lapping up every bit of syrupy goodness from a pair of delicious lips, picturing someone in particular.

“Alright, Guerin.” From above the rim of his salt-rimmed glass, Michael saw that the bar owner had come over behind the counter again. Pointing behind him, she said, “That’s the third girl who’s made eyes at you. And with all of them, you’ve either shut them down or ignored them. What’s going on?”

Michael almost spat in derision. He hadn’t even really noticed whatever girl was behind him. He really wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone tonight.

The alcohol loosening his tongue, he answered honestly. “Alex’s boyfriend. He posted a picture of them on his social media, making them official. Like Facebook official.”

She shrugged, dismissively, “They were official before. They’ve been out in public together.”

“Yeah, well now everyone in cyberspace can see it.” He heard the whine in his voice but he didn’t care.

“Is it a cute photo?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t know,” Michael grunted. “I don’t have Facebook. But neither does Alex. If he was my boyfriend, we wouldn’t even have to worry about this.”

“You want him to be your boyfriend?”

Michael hesitated before he answered. “He wanted to be my boyfriend first…”

“So that’s a yes.”

She looked far too pleased. Michael could feel his face heating up. “Why are you pestering me? Don’t you have your own love life to worry about?”

“You want me to distract you by talking about another Manes Man?” she quipped, one side of her mouth quirking upward.

“Yeah, let’s talk about you and Greg.” Clearing his throat, he tried to come up with a question for her. When he tried to picture Greg Manes, his mind kept slipping back to Alex. And he ended up saying, “Tell me, if you and Greg became official, would you post a photo of the two of you on Facebook?”

She didn’t answer, just exhaustedly reached over to the bottles and poured another drink.

After another glass, Michael could feel his control slipping. He couldn’t stop picturing Alex. Or Alex and Forrest together. His brain contorted them into various poses that might be captured by a photo.

The bar started to blur, but at least the pain was easing. Now, it was only a faint annoyance, one that urged him to continue to complain. It was almost if he kept arbitrarily complaining, then he wouldn’t feel worse about it.

Luckily, Maria was still behind the counter, and since she knew Alex and the situation, she was the perfect person to address and to unload onto.

“I mean it’s a photo,” he slurred, angrily. “A photo. Do you know how many photos of me and Alex I have? One. One old and torn photo from ten years ago. Not even digital. Why don’t they go back to old school photos? And share those with all their friends. You know the ones that shake…the - the… what are they called? What are they called?”

“Polaroids?” Maria offered. If Michael was more sober he might’ve detected the pity in her voice. “And I think you’re cut off for the night.”

“Ugh. Look at me,” he moaned, shoving his face into his hands. “I promised I wouldn’t do this anymore and here I am. Doing what I said I wouldn’t do… for Alex…because of Alex!” Michael’s voice shook with despair. His anger was softening and now he just felt miserable. “All I can think about is him and his photo and his Forrest. I just wanna stop feeling this way. How do I do that?”

Maria leaned over toward him, her usual sharp, guarded look dulled a little. “Look, I get it. And you won’t always feel this way. It’s just that things between you and Alex have always been complicated. So much between you is unspoken. You never even got any closure from when you were teenagers or even when he came back so everything was just left up in the air and–”

“That’s it!” Michael shouted. “Closure! I need closure.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “You’ve never defined your relationship, so that’s why you’re confused right now. Closure now isn’t gonna fix–”

Banging his hands on the counter, he exclaimed, “No, you’re brilliant! I gotta get closure. I gotta finally say I’m over him.”

“Guerin, look at yourself,” she snapped, her hands waving in front of him. “You're clearly not over him.”

With his face scrunched up, he knew she was probably right, but something still flared inside him. Taking a shaky breath, he grumbled, “But, I gotta say it. And then maybe it will hurt less.”

If Maria continued to protest, he didn’t hear her. His blood was pounding too loud in his ears. He fumbled for his phone in his pocket and then wondered if Forrest had Alex’s number listed in his favorites like he did.

Shaking his head, he tried to shake off those intrusive thoughts. His mind seemed relatively calm and clear as he heard Alex’s dial tone and then the gentle timber of his voice at his answering message.

At the beep, Michael confidently said, “Hey, Alex, it’s Michael. I’m just calling to say that everything’s fine. And I’m really happy for you… and your official photo. And you know, that means that I am over you… I. Am. Over. You… And that, my friend, is what they call closure!”

A triumph rushing through him, Michael dramatically pressed the button to hang up the call. Satisfied, he slammed his phone onto the counter.

Above him, Maria merely sighed and said, “Okay. I’m calling you a ride home.”

Unfortunately, Michael didn’t remember much after that.

_____

The sheets on his bed were too scratchy. The light stretching in through the slits in the blinds on his trailer window were too bright. Michael tried to open his eyes, but when he did his eyelids stung like a son of a bitch.

Moaning into his pillow, he realized that even making noise sent a rumbling through his chest that triggered a churning nausea. As he swallowed down whatever saliva was in his mouth, he tentatively shifted on his small bed.

Everything hurt. With how many times he’d woken up hungover, he was used to his head splitting open and even his stomach screaming at him, like it wanted to simultaneously expel everything inside him and binge eat whatever was in his fridge. But why the hell were his knees and other joints aching so much right now? Every move he made made him wince like he was an old man struggling to get out of bed.

Maybe that’s exactly what he was, Michael reflected, his eyes as shut as he could keep them. He hadn’t gotten drunk so hard, like he obviously had last night, in a long time. So it stood to reason, at least in his still swimming mind, that maybe he was getting too old to go that hard.

At least, he assumed that he drank too much last night. He couldn’t precisely recall what he had done or where he’d been at the moment, but that may’ve been because his head was spinning. As the morning – or for all he knew, the afternoon– sun blazed into the trailer, Michael eased himself to his feet. Then, he realized he was still wearing his jeans. And standing up in them hurt too much.

So, he stumbled over to his counter and blindly grabbed around for a bottle of acetone. He knew he kept spare bottles somewhere around here. Ugh, but he had given a lot of his stash to Max recently. Damn, his stupid dying brother!

With relief, his hands closed around a stray bottle and he groaned as he unscrewed the cap with shaky hands and brought it to his lips.

Instantly he felt some numbness from the pain, but that might’ve been a sort of placebo. He still felt weirdly uncomfortable in his skin. The light was still too harsh and he decided maybe if he took off his clothes and washed up he’d feel better, and then maybe he’d remember what exactly happened last night.

How the hell had he gotten home? If he had been at a bar, surely he wouldn't have driven back to the junkyard?

As water splashed against his hot skin, he faintly recalled being at a bar last night. That would certainly make sense and fit with the headache that hadn’t actually disappeared yet.

He had just thrown on one of his clean white T-shirts when he heard the loudest sound he’d ever heard in his life.

Three explosive bangs on his door echoed through his Airstream.

Flinching and wincing at the sound, he then realized that a voice accompanied what must’ve been knocking. “Hey, Guerin. You up?”

He didn’t need a sober brain to recognize that voice. It was obviously Alex. What the hell was he doing here this early? Or, maybe it was later in the day than he thought. He’d slept like a log and couldn’t recall when he’d fallen asleep.

Damn, he really didn’t want Alex to see him like this, so shamefully hungover. He was supposed to be stopping that kind of behavior to show Alex he was a better person and – and – something…

His mind was slipping. Huffing a heavy breath, he ran a hand through his wild hair and groaned out a response. “Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

After splashing some water on his face and grabbing the bottle of acetone, he carefully squeezed out his door, downing the bottle.

“Woah,” Alex exclaimed. “Lot of acetone in the morning. You okay?”

Everything in him screamed that, no, he was not okay. But, he didn’t wanna say that to Alex. A small part of Michael still wanted to prove that he could handle this and thereby downplay how much he’d had to drink, which Michael still couldn’t precisely remember.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his voice scratchy. Cleaning his throat, he asked more clearly, “What- what are you doing here?”

Alex stood confidently, grasping a folder or some kind of envelope in his hands. “I came over to update you on my project. You were suspecting it was some kind of alien tech, and you were kind of right. I brought this report that confirms this alien machine was built in Caulfield by an alien. But, um, it looks like you’re not in good shape to hear about it. What did you do last night?”

Michael slumped down on a plastic lawn chair. The air out here was chilly and he was only wearing a T-shirt, but he found that the cold was successfully whipping some life and energy into his sluggish body.

“I think - I was at a bar,” he started slowly. “I know there was tequila. Not much else is clear.”

Alex didn’t seem judgemental; in fact, he seemed to find it rather amusing. Chuckling a little, he said, “Well, it was either a good time or a bad time, I guess. Glad you made it home safe. I don’t see your truck, so it must still be at the bar– what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Momentarily distracted by Alex’s observation about his truck, Michael sputtered. But, something sparked in his brain, staring at Alex. And he tried to get back on track, following that thread in his mind. “I, uh, I don’t know. I feel like I had a dream about you last night. Or something. I don’t remember.”

“Huh,” Alex said, curiously, crossing his arms.

“Did- did we speak on the phone last night?” he asked, carefully, vaguely recalling something about Alex’s voice. “Did you call me?”

“No, no,” Alex assured, shaking his head. “I spent all last night at Deep Sky. I got really into using this internal camera on the machine.”

“Huh…” Michael stared off into the distance in thought. He could’ve sworn Alex had been around last night or at least…maybe on his mind…

Perhaps Michael should switch the subject. If Alex had been working last night, then maybe he couldn’t help figure out what happened with him and his binge-drinking. And Michael was starting to get intrigued by these things Alex was saying about an alien machine.

“Actually,” Alex said, his eyes widening, “you may have called and I might’ve missed it because my phone had been on silent and in my bag. Hang on.” Michael watched him pull out his phone and examine the screen. “Oh, it looks like I do have a voicemail from you. I wonder if it was important and you don’t remember.” Alex quickly put his phone to his ear.

A voicemail from Michael? So, he had called Alex last night. He’d just left a message at some–

A spark of memory flickered in Michael's mind. “Alex, wait…”

Alex’s face was scrunched in concentration, listening to the message. His gaze popped up as if in surprise as he said, “You’re over me?”

Realization slammed into Michael. Suddenly filled with horror, he shouted, “Alex, put down the phone. Shut it off!”

Alex wasn’t listening to him. Or he was, but it was the Michael who was rambling in the phone message. Desperation surging, rolling into a panicky rage, Michael stood up and bellowed, “Put down the phone! NO!”

Michael hastily used his powers to fling the phone halfway across the junkyard and it skidded to a halt in the dirt near the auto shop. The echo of the plop resounded through the space and seemingly through his hollow chest.

His hand still held aloft after the phone was ripped out of it, Alex just stared at Michael. The seconds seem to stretch out into years before he spoke. “You said you’re over me. What? When were you not over me?”

Michael gulped. “Oh, god…” He sat back down stiffly like he was in a trance and put head in hands in between legs. He took deep breaths, feeling like he was gonna puke.

Alex stepped closer. “Michael?” he asked, slowly, like he was careful of spooking a cat or of finding out the truth. “What? What was that?”

“Okay, okay.” Michael was mortified and still shaking, but he needed to say something. The silence was making it worse. He lifted head but didn't look Alex in the eye. “So…uh, recently…I’ve been thinking about my feelings for you and that they are still there, and maybe have wanted to do something about it.”

“Wha- woah,” Alex said, gasping. It was as if actually confirming that it was exactly what it sounded like now made Alex panic. “You- you wanted to do something about your feelings for me?”

“Yeah, so?!” Michael accused loudly, “You wanted to do something about your feelings for me first. You wanted to get together and you came to my trailer the night after Caulfield! Okay? And- and you wrote a song asking if I would come home!”

Everything spilled out so quickly he couldn’t stop it. It was like everything he’d been thinking and feeling burst out of him like a broken dam.

“Well, um,” Alex said, starting to pace back and forth in front of him. “You - you know the song was about you?”

“Yeah, uh huh,” he mumbled, his mouth a little dry. “I heard it.”

“But you never mentioned it.” Alex looked at him with wide eyes, a combination of shock, yearning and accusation.

“No, because I saw that you were there with Forrest,” Michael confessed, wanting to close his eyes in regret.

“Forrest. Oh, Forrest!” Alex’s voice rose to a screech. It was like he had forgotten for a moment that he had a boyfriend. “Oh, god. Um, I feel like I need to sit down.”

“Okay.” Michael gestured to the other lawn chair.

Puffing some quick breaths, Alex started to sit, but then immediately got back up. “No, no I need to pace. I need to stand.”

Michael nodded, understanding that Alex was having a hard time processing Michael’s sudden and revealing voicemail. His face at least didn’t look horrified, but more nervous, which Michael took as a good sign.

Alex gulped as he stepped carefully around the space. “So, you, uh, had feelings, and what? Now you’re over me?”

“Are you over me?” he shot back.

Alex didn’t answer. But he did stop pacing. Michael could see his chest heaving as he stood frozen, his darkened gaze roaming over Michael’s form in the chair. In his stare, there was something underneath the hesitancy, a sort of hope or eagerness.

Before Michael could repeat his unanswered question or Alex could voice what was all over his face, Alex’s phone started ringing from across the junkyard.

“I turned the ringer back on,” Alex muttered.

Michael glanced over there and pulled it back with his powers, floating it in front of Alex. Absent-mindedly, Alex grabbed it and rubbed the dirt off. “Uh, this is Forrest.”

Michael felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Forrest?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, we were gonna grab breakfast. And debrief about the file.” Alex declined the call, but started typing out a message. “Okay, uh, I gotta go.”

“What? You’re gonna leave?” Michael exclaimed, standing again, on somewhat wobbly legs.

“Yeah, he’s waiting for me,” Alex shrugged, not meeting Michael’s eyes. “And I got, um, a report to um, report on…I’ve got a boyfriend and I’ve got to go meet my boyfriend.”

Michael could only gape as Alex started backing away from him. He had rarely seen Alex get this flustered. As much as he wanted to keep talking to him, he didn’t want to do anything to make him more nervous or stressed. “Okay…” Michael said sadly as Alex walked toward his car.

When Alex waved goodbye and disappeared behind his driver’s side door, Michael felt an emptiness spread through him. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he knew his embarrassment wasn’t the cause.

Michael gritted his teeth and tried to keep his raging emotions under control. It was like his bare heart was just exposed and Alex stepped on it on his way to get to his boyfriend.

The worst part was, his head was still killing him.

Chapter Text

After Alex left, the rest of Michael’s day went far too quickly. Before he knew it, the sun was setting on another cold evening and he’d barely left the junkyard all day.

Haunted by his hungover encounter that morning, Michael did his best to ease his aching body and get some rest. Relaxation was being foiled though by images of Alex realizing how Michael felt and walking away.

Had Alex changed his mind about his feelings for Michael? Was that song simply an expression of past hopes and dreams? Had Forrest made him so happy that he’d forgotten all about Michael? Or perhaps, now that Alex had another man in his life, he had realized that Michael was not nearly as good, not worthy enough, and Forrest would make a significantly better boyfriend.

Even in the dimness of his trailer, those intrusive thoughts penetrated his quiet solitude. Although his headache and nausea gradually improved as the afternoon arrived, Michael didn’t feel a bit better.

He tried to distract himself by getting some work done, tinkering with his tools and a few faulty car parts. And it was starting to work for a while. But then, when his stomach grumbled, Michael thought about Alex going to meet Forrest for breakfast and his mind spiraled again.

He would grit his teeth in frustration as he pictured the two of them cozied up in a Crashdown booth, combing through the report that Alex had brought to Michael first. It became hard to breathe as he thought about how Alex had volunteered for this research for Michael, to help aliens, and had made transparency with all of them, including Michael, a top priority.

How in the world had Michael squandered this opportunity so badly? Alex had wanted to be with Michael at some point. And yet, when Forrest had texted, Alex had chosen to go to him.

With the exception of Sanders, Michael hadn’t spoken to anyone else all day. Both Max and Isobel had sent him messages, which Michael didn’t even have the heart to read and therefore went unanswered.

It wasn’t until after the sun had set and Michael had scarfed down some dinner that his mind managed to recall some of the promising things from their encounter.

Alex hadn’t denied that he’d had feelings for Michael. He hadn’t denied writing and performing that song about Michael. When Michael had asked if Alex was over him, he hadn’t answered. That could mean that Alex was nervous to confess that he did still have feelings for him.

It was possible Alex still loved Michael, just as much as Michael still loved him. Since Michael struggled to admit that particular phrase out loud, then it stood to reason that Alex had hesitated because of the same nerves from built up affection.

However, his silence could also mean that Alex just didn’t want to admit in front of him that his feelings for his first love had disappeared now that he’d gotten a good, new man to be his boyfriend.

If Michael hadn’t overdone it so badly the previous night, then he might’ve dove straight into the bottle. As it was, Michael was forced to suffer the heartache unaided and unabated.

He was just thinking about turning in early when he heard the roar of an approaching vehicle. His mind was fuzzy. He couldn’t remember if Sanders would have a reason to be driving or if it could be someone with a mechanical emergency. Or it could also be one of his overbearing siblings wanting to check that he was still alive after not hearing from him all day.

Grunting with annoyance, he shoved on a light jacket and pushed through his door just in time to see headlights flicker off. The car was parked close to him, so whoever it was, their intention might be to visit Michael, himself.

The only other light came from inside Michael’s Airstream, so the darkness masked Alex until he approached near enough.

His eyes widening at the sight of Alex returning so soon after that morning’s awkwardness, Michael could practically feel his heart thundering.

Wearing the exact same clothes from that morning, Alex stood in front of him, a blank, unreadable expression covering his face. Michael had a vague sense of deja vu.

His mouth was dry as he gaped and exclaimed in partial shock, “Oh, Alex. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wasn’t expecting to come here either,” he said, his eyes focused and still giving nothing away.

Michael didn’t know how to feel. Which way was he supposed to react? Did Alex come here to yell at him, to tell him that he should stay away at all costs and leave him and Forrest alone? Or did he come here to finally answer Michael’s question and confirm he wasn’t over him after all? From his stiff stance and his confused statement, it sounded like even Alex himself didn’t know.

Slowly and with a little irritation, Michael said, “That’s… interesting.”

Out of nowhere, Alex snapped. “No, no it’s not interesting. It’s the complete opposite of interesting!”

Michael could tell he was angry and frustrated. “Alright, I get it.”

“You had no right to tell me you had feelings for me!” Alex shouted, taking an accusing step forward.

“What?” Michael exclaimed. Where was this coming from? Why was Alex so upset? If anything, Michael was the one who had the right to be pissed.

“I was doing great with Forrest–” Alex began ranting, “in a real relationship for the first time in my life– before you dragged me back into this.”

Michael couldn’t believe this. Alex was actually mad that Michael told the truth. It’s like he was actively fighting against reality and refusing to deal with it. And that made Michael mad.

“Hey, I was doing fine too when I heard you sing a love song about me! You think it’s easy for me to see you with Forrest?!” His words shot out of his throat, scratching it raw.

“Well, then maybe you should’ve said something before we got together!” Alex argued, arms stretched wide.

“I didn’t know you were gonna get together when you were on your secret mission all across the country,” Michael countered. “And I wanted to wait until you were back in town. But maybe you should’ve said something to me before you left!”

Alex scrunched his face and shook his head, helplessly. “Guerin, there was never a good time.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Michael exaggerated incredibly sarcastically. “It’s only been ten years since we started this. And you were only in Roswell a full six months seeing me all the time, helping out with alien research and each next crisis.”

Despite the blackness surrounding him, the emotions in Alex’s eyes were clearly visible. “It’s not like I didn’t try, Guerin. But things got in the way. Something always gets in the way with us. Whether it’s my dad, Project Shepherd, Calufield, the alien secret, or…or my best friend!”

Michael felt a stabbing through his chest, like he’d been impaled. He shouted, “Hey, if you haven’t noticed, she broke up with me! Over a year ago! Mostly because of you! And do you even have a point?”

“My point is I can’t do this right now!” Alex’s volume was loud, but he sounded more miserable than angry. “Okay? I’m in a relationship! I’m finally happy, doing something for myself for once. And - and it’s too late to go back. The ship has sailed.”

“So, what?” Michael scoffed. “That just means that you can forget about me and everything we’ve felt?”

“Hey, I’ve been doing that since high school. I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it.”

With his frustration now boiling over uncontrollably, Michael spat, “Alright, fine, well you go ahead and you do that, Alex! You go be with him!”

“Fine, I will!” Alex howled as he turned away and marched back to his car.

At the sight of Alex leaving, Michael became even more infuriated. If Alex was really just going to give up and agree with Michael’s temper-fueled suggestion, then maybe this was really it.

Michael spun and screeched over his shoulder, “Good, I don’t need your stupid ship! Now, I got closure!”

Rushing into his trailer, he slammed the door. With his powers, he let out a blast of energy and several things in his proximity smashed or toppled over.

Once the noises settled, he collapsed into a chair, fuming. But then as soon as he took a breath, he gasped for air, feeling like he wanted to cry. He put his head in his hands and tried to stem the tide.

After a few moments of sitting there, in the dark, chaos swirling all around him as well as inside him, he heard a knock on the door.

“Guerin? It’s Alex.”

Gulping down air, Michael’s head popped up. “Alex?”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounded nothing like it had before. Michael detected a calm and solemn tone, one he so often associated with Alex’s softness and his perpetually open heart.

“You came back?” Michael asked, his voice choking with hope.

“Never left,” came his reply.

Michael felt a smile spread across his face involuntarily. He made his way to the door of his trailer, his heart in his throat. He felt like he couldn’t speak, couldn’t utter another word. Alex was really here, on the other side. He hadn’t left.

The silence on both sides of the door stretched out for a few moments, as if they were each careful not to move and break the yearning building between them, or each waiting to make sure the other stayed.

Finally, Michael swallowed his nerves and said shakily, “You can come in. If you want.”

A rush rattled through his chest as he heard the trailer door handle jiggle, an acceptance of his invitation. Alex wanted to be with him.

But, then, Michael was surprised when the door didn’t swing open to reveal Alex standing on the other side. Michael heard the handle being pushed again.

“Uh, Michael," came his voice. “I think it’s locked.”

Dumbly, Michael just stood there, confused. “I didn’t lock it.”

“Then, it must be jammed.”

Reaching out, Michael tried to pull it but it was hard to budge. “Damn cold weather humidity!” he hissed, cursing yet another obstacle keeping him from Alex.

“Did you try using your powers?” Alex asked, innocently.

Michael smiled and pushed with his telekinesis and the door burst wide open.

On the other side stood Alex wearing a matching grin. He stepped into the trailer and grabbed Michael's face as he sank in to press his lips against his. Instantly, Michael threw his arms around Alex's middle and pulled him in so he could deepen the kiss.

His hands tightened on Alex’s waist as he felt their bodies collide with delicious friction. With every kiss, came a soft caress of lips and tender movements between them that held more emotion than any words could express.

It felt like they were having a conversation with their bodies. All of the ache in his heart that had been building since Alex returned home was being soothed and comforted as each touch was accepted and enjoyed.

Michael felt a hot trail follow Alex’s hands as they moved down Michael’s neck and lower across his chest. It sent Michael shivering and wanting more, but desperate to make this feeling last as long as possible. Wanting, no, needing to show Alex how wanted he was, Michael let his arms snake up Alex’s back and then lightly threaded his fingers through his dark hair.

It felt like he and Alex were standing in the middle of a raging river as waves crashed around them and the rippling tide was coursing around them. Michael held onto Alex so tightly as if they would fall over into the depths if they didn’t press together and create a collective center of gravity to withstand the pushes against them. It almost sounded like they were in the middle of raging waters, too, as he heard a powerful roaring in his ears.

Gasping for some much needed air, Michael disconnected their lips for a moment, but kept his forehead nearly touching Alex’s, bent so as to preserve their little bubble of desire.

“Wait, please,” he whispered in between inhales, “please tell me that you want this. That you really want this.”

Studying Alex’s face intently, Michael watched him swallow thickly and lick his lips, preparing to speak. He couldn’t blame Alex if he needed a second to catch his breath. But Michael still trembled in anticipation until Alex replied.

“Yes,” he sighed in the inches between their lips. “Yes, god, yes.”

Michael couldn’t help himself. At Alex’s admission, he let out a huff of a laugh. He had waited so long to hear that, to know that they were both on the same page, that the joy and relief he felt just bubbled up inside him and sprang out of his wide smile.

Still standing so wonderfully close, Alex grinned as well and added, “I’ve never been able to resist you. And I definitely don’t want to start now.” Gently, he brought up his hands to cup the sides of Michael’s face, his thumbs caressing his stubbled jaw and cheekbones. Forced to stare deep into Alex’s dark eyes, Michael saw the truth in them as he said, “I want this. I want you.”

“You’ve got me,” Michael promised as his hands slid up to Alex’s shoulders and brought him closer in a surge of passion so that their mouths were nearly touching. “You already have all of me.”

From there, there wasn’t anything left to say, so they resumed their frantic kissing. They fell into a well-rehearsed pattern, eagerly pushing hands underneath clothing, guiding each other through the space and then easing onto the bed.

Every touch and every breath held a level of affection that made Michael’s heart flutter, because he could read exactly how Alex felt and could communicate the same. Despite their familiar routine, Michael felt the rush of intense desire and arousal as if it was their first time exploring each other.

Once their clothes disappeared, they both collided instinctually, weaving their bodies together in that sweet, but intoxicating way that neither of them had been able to find with anyone else.

After they had exhausted themselves and their pounding hearts had slowed back to normal, their arms reached for the other, so they could continue to touch as much as they could. They both curled into one another, wrapping limbs around and pressing their chests together.

The trailer suddenly became quiet again and the world around them slowly came more into focus. And yet, Michael snuggled in closer, not wanting to let Alex go or share him with anything or anyone else just yet. Michael closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Alex’s skin. Another pleasure that Michael had never found with anyone else was this warmth and softness as they cuddled.

Alex’s breath blew softly into Michael’s hair as he whispered, “I missed this.”

Voicing his earlier thoughts aloud, Michael said, “This is never the same with anyone else. There’s just something about you…or us together that makes it better.”

Planting a kiss to the top of Michael’s head, Alex replied, “Either we’re both just that good at sex or it’s one of those cosmic things.”

Michael hummed and nuzzled his face into Alex’s chest. His voice low, Michael muttered, “Sometimes I think it’s too good to be true. Or it’s too good for me to be able to have too much of it.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Alex said, running a hand down Michael’s arm. “You know you deserve good things.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” Michael mumbled. “And I think that’s why I’ve pushed you away before.” He smoothed his hand down Alex’s chest and stomach in a lazy, almost apologetic gesture. “Thought something subpar with someone else was all I could handle or all I deserved. The truth is I was scared of how good this is. I’m sorry about that.”

Alex shifted slightly on the small bed so that he could face him more easily and look into Michael’s eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve gotten scared too. But, you deserve to be with someone who appreciates you. Someone who sees how funny and sweet and amazing and adorable you are. Someone who wakes up every morning and can’t believe their luck because they get to be with you. Someone who makes you feel good. Like how you always make me feel good.”

“Okay, stop,” Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that perfect.”

Tilting his head, Alex said, “No, but I'm not either.”

“I’m not being humble, here,” Michael lightly argued. “You know that the worst things I think about myself are not baseless.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Alex said with a teasing smile, “Michael, yes, you can be infuriating. You can be impulsive, short-tempered, snappy, self-sabotaging and entirely too self-critical. But you’re also brilliant, funny, thoughtful, big-hearted and incredibly sexy.” Alex slid a hand down through Michael’s chest hair all the way to the thin line down his belly as he ended his list.

Michael chuckled and bashfully asked, “So, does that all add up to me being better than Forrest?”

Alex’s expression went blank. Michael heard him start to breathe faster as pushed himself up farther and glanced up and down the bed at their partially covered naked bodies. He sat up completely and stared at the wall for a moment.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, running his hands down the side of his head. “What am I doing? I’m dating this incredible guy. But I just cheated on him.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said instantly, hating how Alex’s voice was laced with guilt. “I didn’t mean to - to make you cheat.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I’m- I’m not even that sorry. I mean, I don’t regret it.” He said so, placing a hand on Michael’s shoulder and looking at him assuringly. “It’s just– I still feel guilty. He’s such a great guy. And I've been happy. But now I have to throw all that away.”

At his disappointed tone, Michael’s insides began to squirm. “You sure I’m worth it? I mean, you said he’s an incredible guy.”

“He is,” Alex sighed. “He’s smart, fun, creative, great to work with. He served in the military so he understands that part of my life.”

“Wow,” Michael huffed, starting to get offended. “Is there anything wrong with him?”

“Yeah.” Alex turned his head to look at Michael. “He’s not you.”

The simplicity of that statement made Michael’s heart jump. It sounded so final, like the decision was almost out of his hands. Feeling a flush starting to cover his entire body, Michael could only stare at the beautiful naked man in his bed with awe and adoration.

Alex glanced downward and nodded resolutely to himself. “I’m gonna break up with him.”

“Really?” Michael asked, although it might’ve been a pointless question.

Alex answered it anyway. “Really. It’s gonna suck. He’s been so great. And- and he knows the secret.”

Fear prickled through him. “You don’t think he’d- like, say anything, do you?”

“No, no.”Alex shook his head. “I don’t think he’d be that guy. Besides, he’s bound to secrecy by Deep Sky. If he says or does anything, they’ll be on him so fast.”

“That’s reassuring. As long as… as long as you are sure.”

“I’m sure,” Alex said, “As awkward as it’s going to be, I have to end it with him. Because…it’s you. It’s always been you, Michael.”

Those words almost didn’t seem real. It was everything Michael had dreamed of hearing. He didn’t know if he had audibly awww-ed or if it had just shown all over his face. Regardless, his arms rose instinctively and Alex fell right into them.

As they wrapped each other in a big, warm, calming hug, Michael moaned into Alex’s neck, “Oh, this is good. This is really good.”

Pulling back slightly, Alex sighed wistfully. “I’ve been dreaming about you and me for ten years.”

Grinning widely, Michael said, “Well, I'm gonna kiss you now.”

“Well, you better,” Alex teased before Michael captured his lips in between his, tasting his sweetness and sealing their promises.

____

Alex didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d walked into The Wild Pony to find his friends waiting for him.

It had been a last minute invitation, with Liz back in town to deal with the building tether to Max Evans and the possibility of Jones solving the problem. He hadn’t known that the tone of their conversation would take a turn to more light topics.

The afternoon was early enough that no customers were there yet, and when Maria began poking into Liz’s feelings for the tall alien whose handprint she still bore on her skin, Liz promptly changed the subject. So, when the girls had asked Alex about his own personal life, he supposed that he would need to break the news sooner or later.

He didn’t want to hide it by any means. But, he hadn’t known he would just blurt it out.

“So, Michael and I kinda hooked up and now we’re together.”

“What?!” Lix exclaimed, her boldly defined eyes looking like they were popping out of her head.

“What about Forrest?” Maria shouted, astonished.

“I broke up with him,” Alex shrugged.

“Wha- how did this happen?” Maria demanded.

Both of his friends came closer and Alex felt like he was being surrounded. Carefully, he tried to explain as succinctly as he could. “Well, Guerin left me this drunken voicemail and after I heard it … and processed what he said… Well, we kissed.”

“Oh, wow!”

“Oh my god!”

Judging by the girls’ reactions, Alex assumed they were happy or at least in support of him. A smile spread across his face as he recalled that night he and Michael spent together. “And it…didn’t stop at kissing.” More shouts of shock and exclamations of joy followed. “It was unbelievable,” he sighed, dreamily.

“Wait, you just kissed and then automatically fell into bed together?” Maria asked, clarifying, an intrigued grin on her face. “And you’re a couple now?”

“To make a long story short, I guess,” Alex replied.

“Wait, wait, we need the full story,” the bar owner said, throwing her hands up.

“Yes, yes!” Liz agreed, excitedly. “Maria, you get some alcohol. Maybe some wine.”

“On it.” Maria disappeared behind the counter in a flash, clearly on a mission.

Their conversation truly felt like a giddy, gossipy kind of girl-talk now. Alex wasn’t that discomforted. He knew his friends were interrogating him with the best intentions. And it felt good, oddly, to be able to share some of his more lighthearted and romantic experiences with his oldest friends.

Turning to Alex, Liz asked, “Alex, is the angsty build up necessary or can we start with the details of the kiss?”

Alex laughed. “Yeah, sure. I can tell you about the happy part first.”

“Do not start without me!” Maria yelled, rushing over with the wine and glasses in her hands.

Situating herself close to Alex, Liz braced herself and directed her full attention to him. “Alright let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft kiss or was it an ‘I gotta have you’ now kinda thing?”

“Well,” Alex began, clearing his throat, “it started out sweet and soft, but then we just kinda sunk into it.”

“Oooh,” Maria exclaimed, starting to pour, sitting at the counter, close enough to drink in every detail.

“Uh huh,” Liz said, enjoying where this was going. “So, where were his hands? Were they, like, on your back?” Her eyebrows wiggled, exposing her interest, but Alex was inclined to answer anyway.

He sighed as he recalled the memory. “They started on my waist but then they moved upward and then they were in my hair.”

“Oh! Mmmm!”

“Oh, yeah, baby!”

Alex chuckled at his friends’ extremely empathetic reactions. It felt good to have them become so interested in his personal life and to have an exciting personal life to talk about.

***

Meanwhile, in a small booth at The Crashdown Café, Michael was describing the exact same encounter to his siblings over lunch.

“So…then, I kissed him,” he finished before taking a large bite of his food.

“Nice,” Isobel crooned with a wicked grin. “You get him into bed?”

“Yeah,” Michael said with a mouthful of food, nodding enthusiastically as he remembered the night fondly.

“Cool,” Max acknowledged, happily. He too took a bite of his food while Isobel sipped on her low-fat milkshake.

Michael huffed a laugh at how even after weeks of his jealous drama, his siblings were taking this unexpected turn in stride.