#[malex fic]

[pastelwitchling]

I have an angsty prompt that has been on my mind for awhile.

Alex blames himself for Jesse ruining Michael's hand.

So, when he loses his leg it feels like some sort of karmic retribution. Alex feels like he deserved it. Michael finds out that Alex feels this way and loses his fuckin' mind.

@ashleymarie1684

***

Alex was a very protective person. It had taken Michael a good few years to notice that, while he and Alex had been keeping a distance between them that neither of them had wanted, Alex had been fighting like hell on the sidelines to make sure Michael was always safe. It was like a splash of cold water to find out that Alex’s reenlistment, his entire year dismantling Project Shepherd, his whole fight against his father and the courage he’d built to do it in the first place had been for Michael.

He should’ve been smug and basking in the attention, but it was humbling to know how much Alex dedicated himself to him.

“Tell me what you want,” he said one morning into Alex’s hair. They were having their usual lazy Sunday, lying across the couch while an old Disney movie played, with Alex stretched out on Michael’s chest, his ear against Michael’s heartbeat and his eyes fluttering as he gently dozed off to the warm autumn morning.

"Hmm?"

Michael smiled against Alex’s crown. He rarely got to see his love this relaxed, and it was so gratifying to know he could only do it because he was so at peace here, in Michael’s arms. Michael tightened his hold on him, and buried his face in Alex’s hair.

Alex chuckled sleepily. “Are you smelling me?”

“What? Like I’ve never done it?”

He burst into giggles. “That’s not an excuse!” but he cuddled deeper into Michael’s chest anyway, tightening his arms around his waist.

Michael closed his eyes and held him tight. He loved him. He loved him he loved him he loved him, he loved him so much it hurt. He’d felt this intense, overwhelming need for Alex since he was seventeen, but he’d thought that after getting to have him in every possible way, he’d thought that after marriage, that need would dim or be a little more manageable. Instead, Michael felt suffocated by it, like no matter how much he kissed Alex, how hard he squeezed him, how much he worshipped his body and mind and heart and soul – there was never going to be a release. He hoped there wasn’t.

“Tell me what you want,” he repeated. “For your birthday next month, Alex, tell me what you want.”

Alex groaned under his breath. “Who cares?” he mumbled.

“I care, smartass,” he said, and Alex’s body shook with quiet laughter. Michael was going to die. “Tell me. Whatever it is, it’s yours.”

“Okay,” he said. “You. I want you.”

Michael dug his fingers into Alex’s ribs. “You already have me. Pick something else.”

“No.”

“Alex, just tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“You’re such a bastard.”

“I only want you.”

“Pick something else,” he said, “or I’ll stop cuddling you.”

Alex scoffed, completely unthreatened at Michael’s bluff. “Yeah, okay.” He squeezed Michael tighter anyway.

“I’m in a good mood,” Michael said, slipping a hand into Alex’s hair and trying not to moan at the soft strands. “I will literally give you anything you ask for. Think.”

Alex thought. Michael wondered if he would just refuse to answer, or maybe he would insist on his original response, but slowly, Alex looked up at him, folding his hands on Michael’s chest and resting his chin there.

“Anything?”

He was still smiling, but some of the humor in his voice was gone. Michael knew that whatever he said next was going to be important.

He traced a hand down to Alex’s jaw, and his heart thrashed in his chest when his husband’s eyes closed and he followed the touch. Michael bent down to briefly press his lips to Alex’s.

“Anything,” he swore in a whisper.

Alex’s eyes were still closed, and he took a second to swallow before he said, “I want you to forgive me.”

Michael’s brows furrowed. “For what, baby?”

Alex’s shoulders fell, like he didn’t think he would actually have to say it, but he covered Michael’s hand on his cheek, side-eying it pointedly. Michael’s heart fell into his stomach.

“That’s not funny, Alex.”

“Michael, you don’t have to do that,” he said quietly, looking down onto Michael’s chest, his hand still holding Michael’s own. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“Pretend?”

“That it wasn’t my fault,” he said. Michael stopped breathing. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t blame me –”

“Did I ever say anything to make you think that?”

Alex clenched his jaw, and shook his head. “N-Never mind, forget it.”

“Alex –”

“I – I was kidding,” he started sitting up, terrifying Michael. “Just forget it.”

“Where are you going? Don’t get up,” he said, grabbing Alex’s arm and pulling him back in against him. “Don’t pull away like that.” He cupped his cheeks. “C’mon, just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“I’m not,” he insisted, taking Alex’s chin between his fingers and forcing their gazes to meet. “Alex, why would you think what happened to my hand was your fault?”

Alex shrugged, and for a second, he didn’t look like he would say, then, so quietly that Michael almost missed it, he murmured –

“That’s why we were apart so long, wasn’t it?” Even quieter, “That’s why you chose Maria?”

Michael stared. He wanted to reassure Alex that he had never chosen Maria, that everything he’d done had been for him, that he had never for a single second blamed Alex for what his father had done.

But was that the truth? When Alex had come back to Roswell after ten years away and he’d revealed his lost leg, all Michael had wanted to do was hold him and kiss him until he forgot his injuries and beg him never to leave again. Instead, he’d been too used to being angry. Too used to grieving and emptiness. He’d been bitter and cruel.

He searched his memories for moments of kindness, moments he’d shown Alex how much he loved him and wanted him there. That whole time, he’d only thought of wanting to forget, wanting to leave the darkness behind, wanting to stop the nightmares that had always come tied to Alex. He hadn’t spared a single thought to how Alex might’ve felt.

“It was because of me,” he breathed, shocked to only now discover what seemed so obvious. “You . . . you blamed yourself because of me.”

Alex frowned, like he’d thought Michael had already known this a long time ago. That they were past this. He’d always been so much smarter like that.

He did sit up this time. “I forgave you for Maria already, Michael,” he promised. “I forgave you a long time ago, that’s not what this is.”

“I never thought of it,” he admitted, sitting up as well because he needed to touch Alex. “I never thought of how you would feel when I walked away like that, I . . . I always thought you were too good for me anyway, I thought you knew you were too good.”

“Michael,” Alex said softly.

“That’s why I did what I did, Alex,” he swore, desperately grabbing Alex’s hips to keep him close. “I was so scared that you would see how far ahead you were. I was scared you’d realize that I’d never be good enough for you.”

“Stop it.”

“I couldn’t get past what your dad had done,” he confessed in a whisper, and Alex fell silent. “I couldn’t get past it because I hated him, Alex. I hated him and I thought he was a monster, and I hated that you kept listening to him. I hated that he mattered more than me.”

“Michael,” he said, aghast, “he never –”

“I know,” he shut his eyes. “I know that. I’ve always known that, baby. But knowing that and admitting it are two different things, and admitting that you loved me more meant admitting how much I’d failed you. It meant admitting that I’d abandoned you to him because why would you want to stay with someone who was too scared to give you a home? Jesse commanded you to stay. I never even asked.”

Alex didn’t seem to know what to say to that, and Michael reached up, cupping his face. “I didn’t blame you for wanting a dad, Alex. I could never blame you for that. I wouldn’t have blamed you even if you’d loved him. I’m not forgiving a damn thing because it wasn’t your fault. Say it, say those words.”

“Michael –”

“Say it, Alex,” he encouraged gently, despite the whirlwind of emotion in his chest. “Look at me, and say it.”

Alex searched Michael’s face, as though searching for the concession and secret resentment. When he didn’t find it, his eyes turned glassy and he swallowed, his lower lip trembling, and suddenly, Michael saw the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulder. Had he been in this much pain all this time?

“It . . .” Alex started, the words choking his throat, and Michael held him tighter before he tried again. “It wasn’t . . . my fault . . . it wasn’t.”

A tear rolled down his cheek and he heaved a long sigh, that weight finally lightening. Michael forced himself to stay strong and steady. Alex needed him too much now.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Alex’s voice broke, and he shut his eyes, his cries silent but making his whole body shake. Michael pulled him in and held him tight, running a hand up and down Alex’s spine, his other hand fisting his hair.

Michael pushed his face into the strands and breathed in his scent, content to hold his husband for as long as it took, even as his own eyes burned.

“That’s my boy,” he whispered. After a long few minutes, he promised, “It’s okay. I’ll let you pick something else.”

The choked out laugh he got in response went right to mending the cracks in his heart.

***

Turns out writing fic is just about the only writing I can manage when I'm stressed out about homework. So uhh. Yeah. Anyway, if you have any prompts, please send them through my tumblr inbox. I need all the fics I can get right now.

[onward--upward]

all roads still lead back to you

Michael/Alex, 11.7k, rated G || ao3

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, because the look on Michael’s face is kind of heartbreaking – the mixture of concern and expectation that Alex can’t fulfill. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know how I got here, I went to bed at home.” “Home,” Guerin repeats. “Alex. This is home.” or: 16-year-old Alex Manes wakes up in the future.

07.28.24, 22:15. DON’T BE LATE.

The alien artifact has his handwriting on it. Alex Manes has been over the strange, glowing box a million times since it had made its way into Deep Sky, and it’s undeniable: that’s his handwriting. A date, a time. Don’t be late. The date is in a couple days, which is intriguing. The only problem is, Alex has absolutely no recollection of writing it. 

“Maybe it’s something you’ve blocked out,” comes Michael’s voice, canned through the phone speaker. “Like. Trauma.” 

“I don’t think so,” Alex says drily. “Can you come take a look at it? It’s more your area of expertise than mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He can hear Michael’s smile through the phone. “I’ll come look at your ugly-ass handwriting tomorrow.” 

“Good.” Alex tweaks the edge of the box where it’s sitting on the desk – it’s strangely warm. “Do you want me to pick up dinner on the way home?” 

“Nah,” his husband says. “Don’t worry, I know you’re going to be fixating on your puzzlebox, there. I’ll make somethin’.” 

“Alright. Don’t burn anything down. Love you.” 

Michael’s laugh, as always, makes his chest feel warm. “Love you too. See you later.” 

And then it’s back to the drawing board, Alex’s own handwriting threatening him not to be late. Michael’s right: it’s a puzzle. But Alex is very good at puzzles. 

continue on ao3

[bekkachaos]

45, 51 for buddie or malex

Have both! Same vibes anyway x

51. “I’m your husband. It’s my job.” Buddie

Eddie had been ever so slightly crabby with Buck since they got home from their shift.

Buck knew why of course. He had almost been hit by a van on one of their last calls. In his defence, it was going to clip the back of the ambulance and cause a lot more damage than was already on scene, so he stepped out into the road and waved it down.

It wasn't his fault that the driver was staring at the incident and not the road ahead where Buck stood, finally slamming on the breaks a little too late and causing Chimney to need to yank Buck out of the way just moments before he would have been given a hard bump. Even if it had hit him, he would have been fine, by that point it had slowed down enough that at worst he would have had the wind knocked out of him.

But it all worked out, Buck was uninjured, the ambulance wasn't involved in a vehicular collision, and Chim could now go home and tell Maddie that he heroically saved her brother on the job (at least that was how he was putting it).

Even still, Eddie was crabby, and Buck knew there was a lecture coming. Because Eddie had been stood right there watching with his heart in his throat as the van inched closer to Buck as if in slow motion, while he just stood there in front of it.

"Like an idiot," he said after Buck had hit him with the 'can we please just get the argument over with so we can kiss and make up', knowing it would make Eddie snap and spill his feelings.

"We had a patient in the ambulance," Buck reasoned, and Eddie scoffed.

"With minor injuries," Eddie said, staring him down with his hands folded across his chest. "Who, if the ambulance had been hit, would have been fine. Can't say the same about you if you had been pinned between the ambulance and another vehicle."

"I mean at least emergency services were already on scene," Buck said, trying to lighten the mood, obviously in the wrong way as Eddie's nostrils flared back at him. "Eds I'm fine, everything was fine."

Eddie sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and nodded.

"I know," he looked back up at him with troubled eyes. "I know. Doesn't mean I don't get a little worked up when I see you in a situation like that."

Buck just smiled, knowing exactly how Eddie felt, because he was exactly the same. Though where Eddie responded by working himself up into knots of frustration, Buck usually just became overly affectionate and wanted to stay in Eddie's arms until the fear in his chest subsided, irrational as that was.

"You don't need to be so worried all the time," Buck said. "Occasionally, I know what I'm doing."

Eddie looked back at him with one hand rested on the counter and the other on his hip as he took in a deep breath.

"Yeah well," he smiled warmly. "I'm your husband. It's my job."

He didn't miss the way Buck's eyes got brighter and his chest swelled. His mouth curved in a goofy smile and Eddie just narrowed his eyes at him.

"What's that look?" he asked, making Buck shrug.

"Just that I'll never get tired of hearing that," Buck stared back at him adoringly, as if that would stop Eddie's

"What? Me being worried about you doing something dumb?" Eddie gave him a grin, eyebrows shooting up as Buck lunged in and grabbed him by the hips.

"Your husband," he said, cutting off Eddie's reply with his lips, sliding his hands around to Eddie's lower back and holding his body tightly against him.

Eddie hummed out what was supposed to be a laugh, stifled by Buck's lips and then swallowed down as his tongue parted them so sweetly. His firm hands reached up to cup Buck's face between them, fingertips caressing gently through the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

"Nice try," he said as he pulled away just a few inches, thumb grazing Buck's chin with a narrowing of his eyes, but the softest of smiles on his mouth. "I'm still mad at you."

The way he melted into their kiss seemed to negate that point.

45. “You look pretty hot in plaid.” Malex

Alex checked his reflection in the tiny mirror in the hall as he waited for Michael to finish getting ready. He had a dark line of eyeliner under each eye, a fake nose piercing not unlike the one he had when he was a teenager, and he'd even styled his hair (as opposed to brushing it and letting it fall where it chose to).

It was Max's birthday party and the theme was 'seventeen again'. Michael kept complaining that he didn't know why they had to have a theme, to which Alex would say he didn't know why he cared seeing as he never fully committed to party themes anyway. He also didn't know what was taking him so long to get ready given that fact.

"Michael come on," he said, giving himself one last look in the mirror and wishing the eyeliner had come out more even on the left side as he turned to look towards the open door to the bedroom. "We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago."

"It's not that far, we'll be fine," he scuffed his feet on the floor as he walked out in his blue jeans, grey shirt and long sleeved plaid button up, left open with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

Alex looked him up and down a moment as he got closer. He would have scolded him for his lack of effort, but in Michael's defence, he looked exactly like he did in high school. He would have to fight him to keep the cowboy hat off his head (as much as Alex loved it, Michael didn't start favouring it until after they left high school). Still, he looked good. He always did.

"What?" Michael put his hands out questioningly as he got closer to him.

"Is this as close as you get to nineties chic?" Alex asked as the corner of his mouth quirked in a smile and his fingers toyed with the collar of Michael's shirt.

"This is what I had in my closet," Michael shrugged, his eyes raking over Alex's face as his hands reached for his waist. "Surprised you never saw it in there, it's been there for years."

"You're such a comedian," Alex shook his head.

"Something wrong with what I'm wearing?" Michael cocked an eyebrow, head tilting back as if he was goading Alex into

"I never said that," Alex smiled, looking him up and down before shooting him a smirk. "You look pretty hot in plaid."

"You should see how I look out of it," Michael grinned.

He started to pull Alex closer but his hand pressed firmly against Michael's shoulder.

"Oh, I have," he said, unable to hide his smile at the pout on Michael's lips. "But we're going to be late if we don't leave now."

"It's Max's birthday, he'll have another one," Michael snorted.

"And you can get naked in a few hours," Alex said with a chuckle.

This time he was unprepared for the way Michael tugged at his hips, stumbling into him before rolling his eyes.

"That a promise?" he said, a seductive lilt to his voice that although had been heard many, many times before still turned Alex's insides to jelly.

He pulled a face like he was thinking about it, contemplating it. Then he reached out and took hold of each side of the plaid button up in tight fists, his tongue running over his lip as his eyes lingered a moment too long on Michael's.

"I don't know," he said. "Wouldn't mind if you kept this on."

Michael chuckled, leaning in to kiss him softly. Even if he did have the urge to drag him back to bed right then and there, he knew they really did have somewhere to be.

"If you don't wash off that black eyeliner then I can maybe make that work," he mumbled against Alex's lips, feeling the rush of air against his cheeks as he let out a laugh.

He hummed appreciatively as he gave Michael another lingering kiss, moaning slightly irritably as he pulled away from him.

"Let's go," he said. "Before I let you convince me to make an un-fashionably late arrival."

"And here I was thinking you had steel resolve," Michael grinned.

"Out, now."

send me a prompt and a ship and I'll write you a drabble x

[justlightlysedated]

Any chance that you go back to writing the Malex secret marriage fic that you have mentioned sometime ago? I love your rnm stories! ❤️

Hi! Hello! Yes! I am actually currently writing to this fic. I had finished it, but then, decided to change some scenes around, and then added some more scenes that I had previously scrapped, so I'm in the process of writing the new scenes! We are currently at just over 21k words!

But here! A sneak peek!

"Hey, kid!" Sanders calls out in a way that shouldn't scare Alex but does. He never realizes just how relaxed he is in Michael's space until something catches him off guard in a way that would never happen anywhere else.

Alex snaps his phone shut and turns to look at Sanders who is looking at the layout of Alex's surprise anniversary breakfast with something that looks like pride, but then he turns his gaze to Alex and gets all serious.

Alex knows what he's going to say before he says it.

"Sorry to tell you this, but I just got a call from the Sheriff's Office and your husband is in the drunk tank."

That's when Alex realizes all of the mistakes that lead them to this moment.

He sighs, rubbing one hand across his face, "I'll take care of it."

Sanders nods, and looks back down at the table, "I'll keep an eye on all of this."

"Thanks," Alex says gratefully as he stands and heads towards Michael's truck, which had been parked right next to the airstream Michael had recently purchased and had been the reason that Alex had been sure that Michael was just sleeping earlier when he'd been getting everything ready.

It doesn't take him long to get to the Sheriff's Office, since it's still pretty early.

Alex parks across the road, and feels the sleepless night getting to him.

He'd been planning on having a nap after breakfast, and he knows that he's got no one to blame but himself for how this all turned out, but he thinks he's allowed to be grumpy about all of this.

Deputy Valenti eyes him with curiosity as he pays for Michael's bail, but doesn't ask him what he's doing there or if his dad knew he was in town.

She goes through a door leaving it open, and Alex breathes out carefully, turning towards the glass windows and looking out.

He hadn't really been planning on having anyone except Michael and Sanders know that he was back in town. He wasn't even planning on telling Maria, even though he'd promised her he'd come and visit.

He wasn't going to be here long. He had only three days and he wants to fill them up with as much time with Michael as possible.

He feels a prickle across the back of his neck and turns around and there is Max Evans, one half of the reason that Michael refuses to leave Roswell.

Alex frowns but walks towards the counter as Max looks at him like he's a hallucination. Alex thinks that he should be the one thinking that he's hallucinating. Geeky Max Evans turned cop. He knows there has to be a story there. But he's neither curious or interested at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" Max blurts out, making a face like he hadn't meant to say that.

"Bailing my husband out of jail," Alex says as flatly and matter of fact as he can manage.

Max blinks at him like Alex hit him with a bat across the back of his head, dazed and confused.

"Your husband?" he asks like he's hoping he heard Alex wrong.

"Yeah," Alex responds, nodding his head along like he's talking to a particularly stubborn five year old.

"Michael?" he questions like he needs to be one hundred percent sure.

"Obviously," Alex answers, just as flat and matter of fact as before. "Who else would I be talking about?"

[pleasantfanartist]

From the fic A Better Man by @wle0416

[aydann-runs]

A little teen Malex birthday ficlet for my friend aislynnmarie, with graphics edits by mythras_fire.

[notsowrites]

where every wish comes true

Summary: Alex wants everything to be perfect for his first Christmas with Michael.

A/N: my humble contribution to this year's @rnm-secret-santa for @dr-lemurr

[read it on AO3]

----------

Because the holidays have never been a big deal to Alex, he has a basic amount of Christmas decorations - a wreath for the front door, a fake tree that he usually puts up in front of the window in the study, and enough ornaments and decorations to make the tree look festive. It's basically the extent to which he feels is enough “holiday cheer.” He and Maria exchange gifts - a tradition between the two of them since they were kids. Even when he was overseas during the holidays, he'd always make sure she got sent something he knew she wanted but couldn't justify the expense for herself. Since he understood that money was difficult for her, particularly given Mimi’s medical bills. 

But in all their years together, their on and off again relationship with no discernible beginning or end points, Alex realizes that he and Michael have never shared the holiday together in any way.

And of course, everything is different now. Never before have they been in a committed relationship like this, one that others around them know about, and one where Alex feels like he can be public about his feelings for Michael. The pendant of alien glass around his neck, laying against his chest, feels like a promise that Alex intends to make good on one day.

The first problem he encounters this year, however, is where to put the tree. Typically he just rearranges the study, moving the couch from under the windows to against the wall, and putting the tree there instead. It's only temporary, and it makes the house feel a tiny bit more festive.

But when he drags the box out of the storage, and stands in the open doorway to the study, Alex realizes he doesn't want to keep the tree out of the way this year.

Wanting is something he's teaching himself is okay - he's allowed to be selfish. He's allowed to do things and desire things simply because they make him happy. And right now, he wants to put the Christmas tree in the living room, because he wants to be able to cuddle with Michael on the couch, with the fireplace going, and really see if all that fuss about coziness is actually true. There's simply never been the opportunity before where it was possible, and now that it is, Alex finds he wants to experience it for himself.

“There's nowhere to put it,” he whines to Maria on the phone, standing in the middle of the living room, surveying the furniture.

“And the study is not an option?”

Alex sighs, glancing down the hallway, the reasons floating through his mind. “No.”

“So we just need to figure out a different spot for you,” Maria replies, sounding much more confident than Alex feels. There's another voice in the background, and Alex can just make out Maria explaining his dilemma, realizing after a moment that she’s speaking to Rosa.

“Is that Rosa? I can call back-”

“She says you're overthinking it,” Maria pushes on, ignoring him. “And I agree with her.”

“Great,” he grumbles, falling down on the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. 

Overthinking is something that he knows he does on occasion, especially in regards to Michael. Because Alex can’t think of any time in his professional life - a decade in the Air Force, including officer school and two completed tours - where he’s had the same doubts and worries. Things just always seemed easier when he can fall back on facts and logic.

And Michael, well. Alex knows his feelings for Michael are sometimes anything but logical.

“What about in that space next to the dining table?” Maria asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Alex glances over where there’s a potted plant in the corner near the doors that lead out to the patio; the decor in the wall alcoves; and the guitar he has leaning in the corner near his bedroom doorway. It might work, he thinks, but it’d be a tight fit. And he doesn’t really want the tree to be sticking out awkwardly, especially if he’s putting it somewhere he might trip over coming out of the bedroom.

“No, I don’t think so.”

There’s a bit of shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Alex hears Rosa loud and clear, realizing he’s been put on speaker.

“What about in that corner? Next to the sofa?”

Alex twists to look to his right where the end table is currently placed. It’s a large enough space in the corner if he moves the table and the plant - but isn’t the point of this to be able to see the tree while sitting on the couch? It really would just look like it was shoved into the only available spot between the couch and his keyboard bench.

“The couch would be in the way.”

Rosa sighs, rather loudly, and says something that Alex can’t quite make out, probably meant only for Maria anyway. While he listens to them chatter amongst themselves, he wonders about next to the fireplace, but figures there probably isn’t enough room and the tree would cover part of the TV - and it’d definitely make it harder to get to the record player. 

“Are you up for moving some furniture?” Rosa asks after a moment. “Because I think I have an idea, if I remember your house correctly, and Maria says I am.”

Not letting himself get too hopeful, Alex nods his head as if she can see him. “Yeah, if it’ll make this whole thing work.”

“Move your keyboard bench.”

For a moment, Alex wants to argue and ask where he’s going to put his music set-up in the meantime, but the answer is obvious. If he moves the keyboard, and his audio equipment into the study, they can go against the wall where he typically puts the couch when the tree is in there. It feels like such a simple solution, he’s annoyed at himself for not thinking of it. 

“You two are geniuses,” he replies quickly, pushing himself up off the sofa. “Love you both, but I gotta go.”

He hears the two of them giggling on the other end, and ends the call. 

None of the furniture he needs to move is actually heavy, thankfully. And he hopes he can get it done before Michael gets home - because he’d like to be able to at least have the tree up. First, he gets the bench - it’s the smallest and lightest part. Then all of the smaller items - the guitars, the sound mixing equipment, the speakers, and finally - the keyboard itself. The table, however, presents its own dilemma. It’s a little too big, and a little too awkward in size for him to lift all on his own.

Alex falls back onto the sofa, frustrated with himself and his own limitations, when he hears the front door open, close, followed then by the familiar sound of Michael’s boots on the floor.

“Rearranging?” Michael asks, and Alex turns slowly to look over at him, noticing the way he’s taking in the emptiness of the space where his instrument set up used to be.

“Trying.”

Michael nods his head, glancing around the living room and dining room, as if looking for something. “Where’d the rest of it go?”

“In the study.” 

He watches as Michael disappears out of view, his footsteps receding down the hallway, and then back towards him, as if Michael had needed to see for himself where the missing equipment had gone. 

“So we just need to move the table?” Michael finally asks, sitting down on the coffee table and sliding over until he’s across from Alex, reaching out and taking his hands in his, letting their fingers slide together. “Any particular reason for this change? You seemed pretty settled in how you had the house set up.”

Alex lifts his left hand, along with Michael’s, and motions vaguely towards the box with the Christmas tree that’s on the floor next to the dining table.

“I thought - I think it'd be nice to be able to enjoy the tree out here.” Alex doesn't know why his own reasoning feels dumb - it's his own home. A house he bought with his own money and has worked to furnish how he wants. “Since it's our first Christmas together.”

Slowly, a smile spreads across Michael's face, as he gently tugs Alex's hands towards him. Alex goes, letting himself be pulled forward until Michael is pressing their lips together - once, twice, three times. The smile never leaving his face, either.

Alex pulls one hand out of Michael's grasp, reaching out to slide it up along Michael's chest to cup his face, letting the tips of his fingers slide into the curls at the back of Michael's neck. His hair is longer - obviously in need of a trim, but Alex likes something about it like this as well. 

Especially when it means watching that one stubborn curl fall over Michael's eyes as he works. Or as he cooks. Or even as he's just talking while they're sitting on the patio chairs outside, Michael telling him about the dreams he had as a child, searching for home in the night sky.

“So where’d you put it last year?”

“Uh, the study,” he replies with a sigh, still frustrated with himself. “Christmas was never a big affair growing up. And here I just - I never saw much reason to go all out on decorating.”

Michael’s eyes go soft, and Alex feels a little less like an idiot for admitting something like this. 

“Max and Isobel always tried - especially when we were kids,” Michael says, his attention drifting back down to their hands, letting his fingers drift lightly across the skin. “Think they wanted to make sure I felt included. Never really got a real Christmas otherwise.”

Alex’s heart breaks for the childhood Michael should have been able to have growing up. That he’d been left to fend for himself so often in ways that no child should have had to do.

“That’s why I wanted to tree in here,” Alex tries again, gently tugging at Michael’s hands, pulling him towards where he’s sitting on the couch. He smiles at the easy way Michael moves, first pinning him against the back as their lips meet, sliding onto his lap and dropping his hands. Michael’s hands slide up to cup his face, kissing him over and over again as Alex drops his hands to his thighs. He doesn’t stop his hips from bucking up against Michael.

“Good thing for you,” Michael says after a moment, pulling away and Alex feels his hands drop down flat against his chest as he looks up to see a familiar smirk, “that your boyfriend is an alien who can move things with his mind.”

It’s always fascinating for Alex to watch Michael use his abilities, watching as the table slowly glides across the floor of the living room, freeing up the empty space in front of the bay window. 

Between the two of them, they carefully get the table moved into the study, and set everything to rights with his equipment, which seems to calm the remaining nerves Alex had about everything. 

Getting the tree together is easiest, the two of them laughing as they try and fluff the branches out enough to make it look somewhat like a tree before decorating it in the small collection of ornaments Alex has purchased and collected through the last several years. He sits on the coffee table to sort through the containers, Michael choosing to be the one to hang them up, taking any leads Alex chooses to give him about placement. 

And it’s then, as he watches Michael place the silver star at the top, that it hits Alex just how right all of this actually feels. How perhaps this is what has been missing for the holiday to feel like it’s more than just a date on the calendar. That perhaps next year they’ll be doing this not as boyfriends, but as husbands instead.

Husbands, Alex repeats to himself. Because he’d asked Michael to marry him, and Michael had said yes.

He watches as Michael effortlessly gets a fire going in the fireplace, fascinated by the way the flames burst from his hand, the logs lighting with minimal effort. 

“Is that why you run hot?” Alex can’t help but ask, raising an eyebrow at Michael and nodding at the fireplace. He knows enough about the alien’s biology to know the elevated temperature the alien’s have is related to their species, but it feels like a good moment to joke. He knows he’s tried in the past to make a similar remark in the past, but the timing hadn’t been right, and it hadn’t landed how he’d intended.

This time, however, he watches as a smile spreads across Michael’s face, his eyes lighting up in amusement. 

They settle onto the sofa, fingers laced together, Alex pushed into Michael’s side as they both take in the quiet moment around them. 

“What did you used to do for Christmas?” Michael asks, his voice quiet next to Alex. “Since coming back here?”

“Spend time with Maria and Mimi,” he replies, turning to look at Michael, noticing the way he’s focused on him, eyes bright and golden in the warm haze of the firelight. “Maria called me a grinch the first year I got back because I didn’t decorate.”

“But not this year.”

Alex shakes his head, leaning up to press a kiss to Michael’s lips. 

“No, not this year.”

[jule1122]

Malex Fic - Am I Giving Enough?

Happy Holidays @miniastrophysicist! I hope you enjoy your @rnm-secret-santa gift. It is a post canon fic focusing on Alex and Michael's path to adopting their first child. There is some emotional hurt/comfort, but it's mostly about them loving and supporting each other on this journey.

I did research the adoption process in New Mexico and stayed as close to it as I could, but I did add and change things to fit the story.

Thank you@angrycowboy for being a wonderfully supportive beta.

Title from "Columbia" by Local Natives

Am I Giving Enough on AO3

Summary: Michael will be a wonderful father, Alex knows this. It's his own ability to be a good parent he questions.

Michael brings it up on a Tuesday, a month after their first anniversary.  They’re sitting on the couch together, watching a documentary about echolocation in whales and bats, cuddling and stealing kisses during the commercials.  Alex knows he wants to spend the rest of his life just like this.

“I was thinking,” Michael begins as the credits roll.  

Alex turns off the television and turns to give Michael his full attention.  “About what?” he asks gently when he sees the way Michael is twisting his hands.

“I got the schedule for the adoption orientation meetings, and the one closest to Roswell is in three weeks,” he takes a deep breath and looks at Alex seriously. “I think we should go.”

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.  Alex stares at Michael for a minute before his brain kicks back in.  “Orientation, yeah we can, I mean we should,” he stumbles.

“It’s the first step,” Michael reminds him - as if they hadn’t researched and talked about this before.  “We have to go before we can apply or anything, and this seemed like our best chance.”

“No, you’re right,” Alex squeezes Michael’s hand and tries to smooth over his misstep.  “It makes sense to go when it’s close to home.  Just send me the info, and I’ll put it in my calendar,”

“Are you sure?” Michael asks.

“Of course.  You know I should take Charlie out,” he adds before Michael can ask him any more questions.  Charlie - the retriever mix Michael brought home from the junkyard a few months ago - has been sleeping at their feet and grumbles when Alex nudges him.  But he gets up and follows Alex when he calls, sharper than he meant to, “Charlie, door.”

Michael doesn’t bring it up again, but Alex can feel the careful way Michael watches him when they get ready for bed.  He turns out the light quickly and pulls Michael close, his whispered good night a plea for Michael to leave it alone for now.

The next day Alex stops by the Wild Pony on his way home from work.  It’s early enough that he knows Maria can take a break to talk to him.  He’s barely started on his beer when she sits down across from him.

Maria studies him for a moment, narrows her eyes and demands, “What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up, with Michael,” he clarifies.  Maria doesn’t say anything, just stares at him until he starts talking again.  “He brought up adoption, and I froze.”  

“I thought you talked about kids before?”

“We have, but it was always something we would do someday.  Now Michael thinks this could be that someday, and I panicked,” Alex shrugs.  “He hasn’t said anything, but he definitely noticed.”

“So what are you going to tell him,” Maria asks.  “Have you changed your mind about wanting a family?”

“No, I still want that.  I just thought we had more time.  We’ve only been married a year, and for the first time in my life I’m really happy,” Alex can’t help smiling when he thinks about his life with Michael.  “I don’t know if I’m ready to change that.”

“Wanting more time isn’t a bad thing, and I’m sure Michael will understand.  But I don’t think that’s the only problem,” Maria adds.

“Michael’s always known what he wants - marriage, kids, a white picket fence and a dad band.  He’ll be an amazing father.”

“What about you?” Maria asks when he doesn’t say anything else.

“All I ever wanted was out, and then I wanted Michael.  I never pictured myself as a father because I don’t know what one should be.  It took me over ten years to figure out how to love Michael.  I can’t ask a child to wait for me to figure my shit out.”

“Alex,” Maria takes his hand.  “You’re being too hard on yourself.  I know you don’t see it, but you are a caretaker at heart.  Look at everything you did for Mimi, the way you welcomed Greg back into your life, all the risks you took to protect the people you love.  You may not think you know how to love people, but we all feel it.”

“Maria,” Alex looks away to hide the tears in his eyes.

“You need to talk to Michael, Alex, you know that.  You’ll be a wonderful father, if that’s what you want.  If you aren’t ready now, just be honest about that.  But if it really is fear holding you back, have more faith in yourself. Besides you already have Charlie,” Maria teases, knowing Alex needs the mood lightened.

“Charlie is a dog,” he gives Maria an unimpressed look.

“A dog with homemade food, more toys than most children and who you or Michael take to work if you think he looks lonely.”

“You might have a point,” Alex concedes with a sheepish smile. They talk for a few more minutes, general catch up, until Maria gets called back to work by one of the bartenders.  “Thank you,” Alex hugs her before he leaves, feeling more settled than when he arrived.

The house is quiet when he gets home.  Alex laughs, thinking of Maria’s teasing when he realizes Michael must have taken Charlie to the junkyard with him.  So Alex starts dinner and throws in a load of laundry.  A few minutes after he takes the lasagna out of the oven, Michael walks in, Charlie at his heels.

“Smells good,” he compliments before greeting Alex with a kiss.

“Thanks, you want to shower while it cools?”

“Only if you come with me,” Michael pulls at Alex's hand.

It’s easy to follow.  To let Michael run the water hotter than Alex would and set up the shower chair.  He pulls Michael into his lap and washes his hair for him, loving the way Michael arches into his touch.  Michael stands up long enough to wash himself quickly while Alex does the same, then he’s back in Alex’s lap.

“My turn,” he says, reaching for the shampoo.

It doesn’t take long, but Michael lingers.  Running his hands through Alex’ hair long after the shampoo is rinsed out, kissing his neck and mindlessly rolling his hips into Alex’s.  

“Let me,” Alex says when the friction is just shy of enough.  He reaches down and strokes their cocks together, everything slippery and warm, his hand gliding easily until they both come.

Michael pours them each a glass of wine with dinner, and Alex lets himself relax into the evening, waiting until they’re once again cuddling on the couch to bring up his concerns.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he begins.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Michael tells him.  “But I do want you to tell me what’s wrong.  I thought this was something you wanted too.”

“It is.  I do want a family with you.  But realizing it might actually happen scared me.”  It’s hard for Alex to admit that, but he pushes forward.  “When I think about us having kids, I can see you with them, but I can’t figure out how I fit in.  I am afraid I won’t know how to be a parent.”

“Alex, I’ve always wanted kids, you know that.  But I would never force that on you.  And I wouldn’t,” Michael pauses before speaking again.  “I wouldn’t bring kids into a home if I wasn’t sure they would be safe and loved.  I know your heart, Alex, maybe better than you do.”

Alex kisses Michael softly then rests his head on his shoulder.  “You think I can do this?”

“I do,” Michael reassures him.  “But you don’t have to.  Especially if you’re only doing it for me.”

“I wouldn’t be,” Alex shakes his head and kisses Michael’s shoulder.  “The orientation is just the first step right?”

“Right, and the whole process takes time.  They aren’t just going to hand a bunch of kids over to us after a presentation.  It’s not a commitment.”

“But it’s a start.  I think we should go.”

“If you’re sure,” Michael confirms.

Alex might never be completely sure, but he knows he wants to try.  “I am.”

Alex doesn’t know if it is intentional, but the orientation feels like a support group meeting.  The chairs are arranged in a semicircle surrounding a long table for the speakers.  There’s coffee and water for tea and a platter of cookies from one of the big chain stores.  

There are only about ten other people there, and while Michael chats with the couple closest to them, Alex sits silently, clutching Michael’s hand.  They are asked to introduce themselves, and he lets Michael handle that too, smiling when he says “this is my husband Alex.”  But he lets the rest of the introductions fade into the background as he studies the room for exits, checks for threats he knows aren’t there.

The first half is a presentation reviewing the steps of the adoption process.  Alex and Michael know them - application, 32 hour parenting class, 4 mandatory counseling sessions, home study, interviews with family and friends.  Alex’s mind stumbles on the last one, grateful again his father is dead.  He knows, though, he never would have attempted this if Jesse were still alive, never would have taken the risk, no matter how small, that Jesse could hurt another child.

Michael’s a little restless during the presentation, and Alex doesn’t blame him.  The material is dry, and Michael has it all memorized.  But Alex appreciates how each step is broken down in detail.  It helps him to treat this like a  mission with a series of individual tasks they can accomplish in pursuit of a larger goal.

They take a break after, and Alex tries to socialize a bit while he makes himself and Michael each a cup of bad coffee.  Alex has spent so much of his life hiding, it’s hard for him to answer questions without searching for an ulterior motive, and he’s relieved when they are called back to their seats.

For the next hour, three couples talk about their adoption experience.  Alex appreciates that they don’t try and sugarcoat it.  They do talk about the good stuff - the first time their adopted child calls them mom, the first Christmas they got everything on the list from Santa, seeing their child graduate, even grandchildren.  But they talk about the hard parts too - the kids who will never call them mom and dad, the older children who needed a mentor more than a parent and don’t keep in touch, hearing the horrors their children experienced and knowing they can never make it all go away.

Some of the couples look at each other nervously, and Alex wonders if they will change their minds.  He wouldn’t blame them, but Alex feels better after hearing the stories and realizing that it’s hard for everyone, that he won't be the only one who struggles.  

When Michael asks him what he thinks on the way home, he's able to be honest when he answers, “I think we can do this.”

They fill out the application that night, and two weeks later they have their intake interview with a social worker named Beth.  Alex did his research before the appointment and knows Beth is a few years older than they are and has worked for New Mexico’s Children, Youth and Families Department since she received her Masters Degree.  She is welcoming and cheerful in a way that makes Alex want to ask her how she hasn’t burned out yet.

They talk about their schedules and hobbies, the people in their lives, and it’s easy in a way Alex knows not to trust.  

Beth’s smiling when she tells them they’re almost done, but Alex can tell from how she’s watching them, the calculation in her eyes, that this is probably the only part of the whole interview that matters.  “Last question, why adoption with CYFD?  There are other, easier, ways to start a family.  So why choose this?”

“Like I told you,” Michael begins, “I grew up in the system.  And while I’d like to believe it’s gotten better, even good foster homes can’t replace a family. They’re good kids, stuck waiting for someone to love them, and if Alex and I can do that for at least a few of them, we want to.”

Alex squeezes Michael’s hand and wishes for the millionth time he could go back and change things for him.  Beth turns her attention to him, and he knows he needs to answer, that he can’t rely on Michael to carry him through this.  “One thing you’ll find out eventually is that I grew up in an abusive home,” Alex clears his throat and forces himself to keep talking.  “Michael and I both know what it’s like to grow up without a safe or loving home.  And what I didn't realize until I was older is how much that affects everything you do, every choice you make.  It limits your life in ways you don’t notice because you are so busy trying to survive that you can’t really dream or take risks.  We can give that, a safe and loving home, for kids who need it so they’ll be able to be who they want to be, not just who they are allowed to be.”

He can see Michael trying to hide his surprise - not at one Alex said, but that he was willing to share it with someone else.  Beth seems pleased with his answer though, so Alex thinks his discomfort is worth it.  Alex isn’t  sure it will ever be easy for him to share his feelings, but  opening up to Michael is the best thing he’s ever done, now he just has to keep trying.

“Ok,” Beth clasps her hands together, bringing their attention back to her.  “Let’s talk next steps.  You can register for the parenting class online, and Caleb will be your therapist.”  She slides a business card across his desk.  “You can call his office to set up your appointments.  Once those two things are done, we’ll move on to interviews with your family and friends, background checks for anyone who might be alone with the children.  Then your home study, and you’ll be in the home stretch.”

They decide to start with the parenting classes, partly because they are only offered a few times a year and partly because neither of them are eager to dive into counseling.  It’s obvious most of the other participants view the class as a formality - a box to be checked off rather than something they need.  And Alex understands, the information is basic, designed to cover the most common questions and scenarios, but it hits him and Michael differently.

They even joke about it with Sam and Meredith, an older couple in the class.  They had their children young and decided fostering was the best answer to their empty nest syndrome.  “It was either this,” Meredith explained, “or pestering our children for grandkids we know they aren’t ready for.”

“This class must be pretty useless to you,” Michael remarks.  “You already raised your kids, you know what you're doing.”

“One thing we definitely learned,” Sam says with a laugh, “is that when it comes to kids you never really know what you are doing.  This early stuff is old hat, we know what we need for the house, know kids need clothes and toys.  But we are hoping they’ll talk more about how to help kids through the transition to foster care, how to make them feel like it is a home, even if it’s temporary.  That’s what we need.”

“Do you think we’ll learn anything that will prepare us for that?” Alex asks.

“No, not really,” Meredith admits.  “But any tips will help.”

It’s one of those early sessions that leaves Michael quiet and withdrawn.  Even Alex isn’t giving the presenter his full attention - periodically checking his email - while they review the physical requirements expected of a foster home.  He can feel the disinterest in the room as the topics reviewed feel like they should go without saying - running water and electricity, enough beds for all the children in the home, supervision to make sure the children attend school, commitment to providing fresh, hot meals.

But Alex feels Michael tense beside him, and he remembers nothing should be taken for granted.  Michael’s quiet all night, hanging back while Alex talks to Sam and Meredith about good places to shop for children’s furniture and clothing.  He doesn’t say much on the way home either, waiting until they are in bed - Alex wrapped around him from behind and Charlie sprawled across their feet - to bring it up.

“Do you think there were families like Sam and Meredith then, and what - I just didn’t get them?” he finally asks.  “Bad luck of the draw?”

Alex hesitates because there is no good answer.  “I think there have always been good and bad families, all we can hope is they are getting better at weeding out the bad.”

Michael snorts.  “Can’t do much worse than they did with me.”

“You deserved better,” Alex tells him, slipping his hand under Michael’s tank top and resting it over his heart.  “You deserved better then and you deserve better now.”

“I have better now,” Michael squeezes Alex’s hand.  “I have the best now, but when you take a kid with a shit life and tell them you are going to make it better only to put them in a situation that’s just as bad, if not worse, it’s pretty hard for them to believe they deserve better.”

Alex knows there is nothing he can say to heal that hurt so he kisses the back of Michael’s neck and holds him tighter.

As the class progresses, it’s Alex who becomes unsettled.  The focus shifts to understanding what traumas children in the system might have gone through, and how to handle common parenting situations.  Participation becomes part of the class as they are asked to share ideas and concerns as a group.  The more Alex listens and hears what a family should be like, the more he realizes just how much Jesse hurt him.

It’s not just the physical abuse - Alex likes to think he came to terms with that years ago.  But it’s seeing how Jesse harmed him in other ways. How he isolated Alex, by restricting his free time and more tellingly by turning his brothers against him.  Jesse continually set Alex up for failure and then used his failure against him as an example of weakness.  He singled Alex out for criticism and punishment in ways that made it seem like Alex was the problem.  

In hindsight, Alex realizes they should have taken a break after the parenting classes before scheduling their counseling sessions.  They wanted to keep the process moving, but Alex was resistant to therapy in general, and going into when he was haunted by Jesse in ways he hadn’t been since the first months after his death was not his best decision.

They meet up with Maria the night before the first session, and the familiar comfort of spending time with her lulls him into a false sense of security.

“I can’t believe you're going to a therapist named Caleb,” she teases.

“What’s wrong with Caleb?” Michael asks at the same time Alex says, “I researched him, and his qualifications are legitimate.”

Maria ignores Alex and answers Michael instead.  “I don’t know, Caleb just sounds like a frat boy.”

“I think you’re confusing Caleb with Chad,” Alex smirks at her.

Maria sticks her tongue out in response.  “But seriously,” she says after they stop laughing, “how are things going?”

“Good,” Michael says, looking to Alex for confirmation.  Alex nods and pulls Michael closer against his side.  “We have a lot left to do, but each step we take makes it feel more real, like it will actually happen.”

“I can’t believe it,” Maria shakes her head.  “I guess if any of us were going to be parents, it would be you two.  But still.”

“We’ve got some time left before that happens,” Alex reassures her.  “Did I tell you we’re looking for a house?”

“No!  You want to move?”

Alex shrugs, “I wasn’t thinking about a family when I bought the house.  We need something with more bedrooms and a bigger yard.”

Maria looks at him, and Alex can tell she’s trying to read him, see if his doubts are lingering.  Whatever she finds makes her smile, “Not that you need it, but good luck - with the house and all of it.”

Alex wishes for Maria’s luck when Michael slams the door open after they come home from their first session with Caleb.

“What the hell was that, Alex,” he demands.

“I don’t know why you’re mad at me.  I didn’t do anything,” Alex insists even though he knows that’s not exactly true.

“That’s one way to put it,” Michael agrees sarcastically. “You barely said a word, and you looked at Caleb like he was one step away from becoming the subject of a Deep Sky investigation.  Could you have made it any more obvious that you didn’t want to be there?”

“That’s not what I was doing.”  Alex reaches for Michael only to sigh when Michael crosses his arms and steps back.  “I need this session to study him, to figure out what he wants from me.”

“What does that even mean?”

“There were times in the Air Force - after a bad mission or after I got hurt - that I had to be cleared before returning to duty.  It was routine, we knew what to say.  ‘Loss of life is regrettable but unavoidable.  My belief in our mission remains steady.’  And just as important we knew what not to say.  You didn’t admit that you hadn’t slept for a week because of nightmares or that you had no idea what the actual mission was.  I don’t know the script here, and I just need time to figure it out.”

“Alex,” Michael sits on the couch and holds out his hand for Alex to join him.  “This isn’t a test.”

Alex sits next to Michael, but only raises a brow in response.

“Ok,” Michael concedes, “ it is a test.  But not one you need to cheat to pass.”

“We were trained to say the right thing, to never consider the truth.”  Alex picks up Michael’s hand, playing with his fingers before lacing them with his. “I’m not trained for this, and I don't want to screw this up for us.”

“You won’t.  I know it’s hard, and there are secrets we have to keep.  But we aren’t trying to win here, we’re trying to be good parents.  Obviously, we can’t tell Caleb I am an alien,” Michael begins.

“Or that my father ran a prison for aliens and my brother killed him,” Alex finishes.

“So those are things that are off limits,” Michael laughs.  “But who we are, the things we went through, and who we want to be, we don’t have to be ashamed of any of that.  We’re good people Alex, we don’t need to hide that.”

“I love you,” Alex tells him because he has to.  Michael’s come so far, and Alex won’t let his fear hold him back.  “I’ll try next time.”

“I love you too. And you won’t be there alone.  I’ll be right there with you.”

It’s still hard at the next session to open up.  He listens to Michael talk about his fear of not being good enough, of always being the one left behind.  Pride at Michael’s courage and honesty wars with his own guilt for being one of the people who left Michael behind.  They’ve been holding hands since they sat down, and Alex rubs his thumb in soothing circles as Michael talks.

When Caleb turns his attention to Alex, he grips Michael’s hand tightly as he stumbles through a description of his childhood, the hole his mother’s absence left, and the fear his father instilled in him.

Caleb studies him for a moment before asking, “What’s the worst thing your father did to you?”

Alex opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.  He turns to Michael, can’t help looking at his hand, but the answer still doesn’t come.  Finally he says, “He made me afraid to be happy.”

Michael makes a noise when he hears Alex’s answer, and even Alex is surprised by what he said, but he knows it’s true.

“And now?” Caleb prompts him.

“I’m happy and he’s dead,” Alex answers without thinking about it.  This time Michael laughs and even Caleb smiles.

“We can work with that,” he tells Alex.

Alex feels himself relax for the first time since they met Caleb.  It's not that therapy is easy, but Alex stops fighting it.  Caleb gives them homework each session.  Sometimes it’s easy- like list five ways Michael thinks Alex will be a good father and vice versa.  Sometimes it seems easy, but brings up more than they expect - like the time he asks Michael to list the people in his life he knows he can count on and give an example of when they have been there for him.  Michael can only work on it a person at a time, the reality of the support he has overwhelming.  And other times, it ties them up in knots from the beginning - like asking Alex to list the ways he’s not like his father.  He has nightmares for days, but feels freer when they discuss it in their final mandatory session.

When Caleb signs off on their confirmation form, they ask him to take them on as regular clients.  They agree to start with monthly sessions, and it feels like a good thing, not a punishment.  Alex has never been afraid to work for what he wants, and he can do what he needs to so he’s a good father.

Midway through their mandatory sessions, they find a house.  It’s in a rural section of Roswell, but still only twenty minutes from the center of town.  The house is big and needs some updating, but Michael is happy to handle that with some help - or at least company - from Max. The best part is the setting.  The house sits on five acres - already fenced in and includes two barns.  Once the home study is over, they plan to convert one of the barns into a workshop for Michael to replace his bunker.  And as for the other, Michael is talking about chickens before they even move in.

“Kids first, then livestock,” Alex teases him.  He surprises Michael with a greenhouse, and that’s enough to occupy him for a while.  

Everything seems to be falling into place, and Alex can’t help but notice how excited Michael is becoming.  He points out families with children when they are out, nudging Alex and whispering, “That will be us soon.”

Michael’s meant to be a father, Alex has known this for a long time.  It’s easy to picture Michael showing a little boy the alien Rosa drew in the Crashdown window or walking through downtown with a little girl riding on his shoulders.  But now Alex is starting to see himself there too.  He can imagine himself swinging their daughter off Michael’s shoulders to give her a kiss or helping their son finish the sundae he begged for, but can only eat half of.  It surprises him how much he wants it, how much he wants to share all that with Michael.

Alex thought therapy would be the worst part of the process, but the home study is more stressful than he expected.  They’ve talked to Beth a few times since their initial interview, and Alex is used to her cheerful determination.  He assumed she would be doing the home study, but they are required to use an approved company which means dealing with a stranger.

It’s a struggle not to bristle at the feeling of being judged, of knowing all his answers are being dissected.  But Alex does his best to be honest, and realizes how far he’s come when he can answer a question about what type of father he wants to be with something other than a sarcastic remark about anything being better than the example he had growing up.  Michael is charming, and Alex tries, but it’s still a relief when Beth  calls to tell them they passed with flying colors.

Alex always knew he would be the one to ruin it.

“Alex!” Michael throws open the door of the truck.  “Are you ok?”

It’s a stupid question, they both know Alex isn’t ok.  They’re supposed to be in Beth’s office making a plan to meet the children they would potentially adopt. Instead, Alex is sitting in the truck trying, and failing, to hold back tears.  He only made it through the first ten minutes of the appointment before bolting, and he can’t imagine what Michael must be thinking.

Alex feels Michael’s hand on his leg, his touch tentative in a way that makes Alex feel even worse.

“What’s going on?” Michael asks quietly.  “If you changed your mind, you just have to tell me.”

“It’s not that,” Alex says hastily.  He wipes his face, but looks away from Michael or he knows the tears will continue.  “I still want a family with you, I do, I just can’t”

“Can’t what?” Michael prompts when Alex doesn’t continue.  “Come on, move over,” Michael tells him with a sigh.  He climbs in and sits next to Alex when Alex slides over to the middle of the seat.  It takes some maneuvering, but Alex ends up leaning on Michael’s chest, Michael’s hand stroking his back.  “You need to talk to me, Alex.  Not to be dramatic but you're starting to freak me out.”

“I can’t pick,” he admits quietly.  Alex knows this is his own fault for being unprepared.  This was the only step of the process he hasn’t researched extensively, and it left him blindsided.  Alex expected Beth to show them the profiles of the children she thought would be the best fit, they would meet them a few times, and if all went well, they would proceed with the adoption.  He was unprepared for her to turn her computer screen toward them, and show them a page filled with thumbnail pictures of children along with brief descriptions of what they like and why they were available for adoption.  He could see the multiple page numbers at the bottom of the screen, and it felt like being introduced to the worst kind of dating app.

“What do you mean?”

 “How am I, are we, supposed to look at all those kids and decide who deserves a home?  How are we supposed to say we’ll take this one, but not that one?”  Alex asks, almost pleading for Michael to have an answer he can live with.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” Michael runs a hand through his hair.  “Placement is about trying to figure out the best match so that the adoption has the best chance for success.  That’s what all the interviews and therapy and home study were about, figuring out which kids will fit with us.”

“And what if we pick wrong?”

“That’s what this meeting is for so Beth can help us.  She knows us, she knows some of the kids, and she’s done this before.  We aren’t making a final decision today.  We can take our time,” Michael reassures him.

“That’s not what I mean.  Even if we do everything right, and it all works out, it doesn't mean we didn’t miss something.   That we didn’t overlook,” Alex stumbles, trying to find the right words.  “I’m afraid that we won’t see, that will leave behind,”

Alex can see the moment Michael gets it.  He was right when he said he knew Alex’s heart better than he did.  “What if you leave me behind?”

“How many people passed you by without ever really seeing you?  You were so good Michael, and you deserved so much more than you got.  I looked at that screen, and every kid reminded me of you.  I can’t do this,” Alex admits, turning away again so he doesn’t have to look at Michael, and see the kindness he doesn’t deserve.  Alex had been expecting Michael to break down at some point, overwhelmed at dealing with the system that had failed him, had been preparing himself to help Michael through it.  Instead Alex is the one falling apart, forcing Michael to comfort him.

“Alex, we could adopt every kid Beth shows us, and it won’t change anything for me.  You can’t fix what’s already happened.” Michael turns Alex’s face so he’s looking at him again, wiping away his remaining tears and kissing him softly. “If we go through with this it has to be because we are ready to start a family not because you’re trying to save me.”

“I’m not trying to save you, I just don’t want to fail you.”

“I know,” Michael closes his eyes briefly.  “And I love you for it.  Listen, I’m going to go back in, let Beth know we need to reschedule.  Why don’t you call Caleb’s office and see if we can get in this week.”

They don’t talk on the way home, but by silent agreement decide to reset once they get there - doing their best to act like nothing has changed.  It’s easier to pretend, at least until their appointment with Caleb.  Michael holds Alex’s hand and listens while Alex tries to explain why he panicked.  He does his best to reassure Michael that he does want to adopt, but they all agree that it’s best to put things on hold for a month or two so Alex can untangle his feelings about adoption from his feelings about Michael.

Three weeks later, Greg calls.

“Hey, are you and Michael still looking into adoption?”

“Yes,” Alex replies.  It’s easier than he thought it would be to answer, but he knows despite his setback, they haven’t given up..

“One of my students is looking for a family to adopt her baby, and I thought you might be interested.”

“Jesus,” Alex says, horrified.  “You teach fourth grade.”

“Former student, sorry,” Greg clarifies.  “She just finished her freshman year at Stanford and is home for the summer.  Baby’s due in a few months, and she didn’t find a match in California so she thought she’d try closer to home.  What do you think?”

They never talked about a baby, but as the idea settles in his chest, Alex knows he wants to try.  “Yeah, I mean I have to run it by Michael, but I think he’ll want to meet her.”

They meet Amber a week later in Greg’s kitchen.  Greg introduces them, and then leaves, telling them to make themselves at home.  Amber has dark hair pulled back into a bun and wide, intelligent eyes.  Alex’s first thought is that she is too young for this - too young to have a baby, too young to make this kind of decision.  But when she starts talking, he realizes quickly that while she may be too young for all this responsibility, she’s not a child.

Michael asks her about school, and she immediately launches into a detailed description of the genetic research she’s doing and the advanced program she was accepted into. Alex doesn’t understand most of what she’s talking about, but she reminds him so much of Liz it almost hurts to look at her.

Michael lights up and starts talking about some of the research he helped Liz with - leaving out the alien origins of it.  Alex is happy to sit back and let the details pass him by, drawn in as he always is by watching Michael talk about something he is passionate about.

“Where did you go to school?” Amber asks.

“I didn’t,” Michael’s smile falters.  “Had a scholarship after high school, but things didn’t work out.  I’m just always studying on my own.  Liz, the woman I mentioned, she has multiple doctorates so I just follow her lead.”

“You more than keep up,” Alex reminds him.  He lifts Michael’s hand - his left hand - and kisses it softly.  He knows what happened in the shed isn’t the only reason Michael gave up college, but a part of him will always hold some guilt over Michael’s lost dreams.

Amber’s eyes dart between them before she turns her attention to Alex. “What about you?”

“I was in the Air Force for about ten years. Got my degree while I was enlisted, computer engineering.”

“Alex is one of the best hackers in the world,” Michael says proudly.

Alex shoots Michael a look, not sure his hacking skills are something to brag about.  “I mostly work in research data analysis now. The company I work for tries to take the information available to us and apply it to previously unexplained events or phenomena like,” Alex searches his mind for an example he can share, “the Bermuda Triangle. I was trained in code breaking in the military so my sub specialty is languages.  There is a lot we can use computers for when it comes to recovering dead languages or translating symbol based languages.”

What he doesn’t say of course is his interest in language is fueled by his need to discover how many previously dismissed references to aliens are real.  So much of his work is rooted in getting answers for Michael, but he can’t tell Amber that.  Still, she seems happy with his answer.

“So you understand then, why I need to go back to school.  Why I can’t let this,” she gestures to her stomach, the first real reference any of them have made to why they are there, “stop me.”

Alex nods, not sure what to say.  But he remembers her enthusiasm when talking about her research and how her smile dimmed when even the possibility of her not returning to school was mentioned, and he reaches for the notepad Michael brought with him, writes down Liz’s email and hands it to Amber.  “This is Liz, our friend's email.  She would be a great resource or mentor.  Her parents are immigrants so she knows what it’s like to be a minority woman in science.  She’s told us about how much her mentor helped her, and I know she would be happy to talk to you.” 

“I didn’t offer you the baby yet,” Amber reminds him, her eyes narrowing.

“It’s not a bribe,” Alex explains, hoping he didn’t screw things up already.  “Like I said, Liz knows the challenges you’ll face, and it shouldn’t be any harder for you than it needs to be.  If we’ve learned anything from working with her,  it’s that changing the work is a lot easier with help. It’s just an offer, no strings.”

“Ok,” she nods and takes the paper.  “I have some questions.”

She doesn’t ask them anything they haven’t been asked before - by Beth, by Caleb, during the home study.  But Alex tries to be more open, a little more honest with her.  They show her pictures of the house and of Charlie.  Michael talks about his plans for chickens and maybe goats, shows her the greenhouse and the fields.

“This is our first crop of sunflowers at the house.  See how tall they are already.  Sanders grumbles about the drive, but he knows we have better soil,” he says proudly.

“Sanders?” Amber asks.

“Sanders and I have been growing prize winning sunflowers for a few years now.  He’s my boss at the junkyard, but he’s family too.  He’ll be the closest the kids will have to a grandfather.”

“Don’t forget Arturo,” Alex adds.

“True.  But Sanders, uhh, here let me show you.”  Michael pulls something up on his phone and hands it to Amber.  “He’s not much for pictures, but he let us take a few at the wedding.”

Michael ends up going through the whole wedding album he has saved on his phone, introducing her to everyone in their family as he scrolls through the photos.  “Are you singing?” Amber asks when they come to a picture of Michael on stage.

“Yeah,” Michael blushes and rubs the back of his neck.  “It was a surprise for Alex at the reception.  But he’s the real musician in the family.  Writes his own music, he’s even written me a few songs.  He’ll definitely be in charge of singing the kids to sleep.”

“What do you play?

“Guitar and keyboard mostly.  We bought a piano when we bought the house and that’s what I like to compose on.  My first guitar was actually a hand me down from Greg,” Alex laughs. “Michael had it for a while too.”

Amber looks curious at the mention of Greg.  “How long have you been married?  Was Greg still in the Navy?”

“No, he couldn’t make the wedding because of school,” Alex explains, assuming she is wondering why he wasn’t there.

“We’ve been married almost two years,” Michael adds.  “But it’s been on and off since high school.”

“High school?”  Amber’s eyes widen.  “Sounds like an epic love story.”

“Cosmic,” Michael mumbles.  Alex elbows him, but smiles.

“It took us a while to figure things out, but we’ve always loved each other.  It’s always been Michael,” Alex shrugs.

Amber hands the phone back to Michael, “It seems like you have a beautiful family.”

“Thanks, I know it’s probably a cliche, but that’s what we want for our kids.  From what we told you, I’m sure you figured out our childhoods sucked.”  They all laugh.  “But we can give our kids all the things we didn’t have.  A place to run around, a chance to just be kids and do whatever they want if that’s sports or art or reading.  They can do what they want and have the freedom to make mistakes because they’ll have people who will love them and support them no matter what.  More than just us, you know.”

“I know you have questions too, but I’ll just get the big ones out of the way.  There’s no father, at least not one that I can name.  I aced my first big exam and decided to celebrate.  Found out there really is such a thing as being blackout drunk.  I woke up the next morning on someone’s couch with half my clothes missing.  I have no idea who I was with.  Is that a problem?”

Amber tells the story with no emotion, just a statement of fact, and Alex can tell she doesn’t want sympathy so he just shakes his head and sees Michael do the same.

“Good,” Amber nods.  “I was working with an agency in California so I’ve had all the counseling sessions. I’m not going to change my mind.  I don’t know if I ever want to be a mother, but I know I don’t want to be one now.  I’d have to move back here, drop out of Stanford, and what, if I’m lucky, go to community college once she starts school?”

“She?” Michael asks.  Alex sees him wince, knows he didn’t mean to interrupt, but they hadn’t known the baby was a girl.

“Yes, and she deserves better than a mother who resents her.  I worked too hard to get into Stanford to become another girl from the rez who can’t hack in the real world,”  Amber stops, bitterness lacing her voice, and shakes her head.  When she speaks again, her tone is softer.  “That’s what happened to my mom, and she always told me I ruined her life.  I want better for her.”

Before either of them can respond, Amber excuses herself to go to the restroom.  She seems more composed when she comes back, accepting the iced tea Alex poured while she was gone.

“So what do you want to know?”

Alex turns to Michael, watches as he picks up his notebook and turns to his list of questions.  “What kind of contact do you want after the adoption,” he asks.

“None,” Amber shrugs.  “I don’t know how to explain this without sounding like a bad person, but I don’t think of her as my daughter.  This is a process I’m going through, and once she’s born my part is done.  My grandmother would probably like a picture every now and then, but that’s up to you.  She lives here so you can contact her through Greg if you want.”

That brings up a concern Alex has.  “Obviously you know Greg’s my brother, but other than visiting him the last few years, I haven’t been on the reservation since my mom left.  I don’t have much of a connection to that side of my heritage.  Is that a problem?”

“Will you answer questions if she has them?  Help her learn what it means to be Native if she wants?”  When Alex nods she seems satisfied.  “That’s enough.  When I go back to school I’m never coming back so it would be pretty hypocritical of me to judge you for that.”

“She would spend time here, with us and Greg, it just isn't’ something that’s part of our daily lives,” Alex clarifies.

“What else?” she asks.

Alex watches Michael look over his list of questions before closing the notebook. “I don’t think there is anything else we need to know.”  He looks to Alex for confirmation.  “This is for you to get to know us, see if we might be the kind of people you want to adopt your baby.  We’re not here to judge you.  So if you have more questions or want to see the house or whatever, go for it.  But we’re good.”

“Ok,” Amber agrees.

“So, we can give our numbers or you can reach out though Greg once you’ve made a decision,” Alex tells her.

“I met with several families in California, and they were all nice, but it never felt right.  I think it’s because I was waiting for you.  I don’t need time.  If you want her, she’s yours.”

“Really,” Michael’s face lights up.

“Of course we do, thank you,” Alex forces out, his throat tight.  “We have a case worker so we’ll get in touch with her and figure out what’s next.”

When they are walking out to their cars, Alex texting Greg to let him know he can come back, Michael stops Amber.  “I do have one question.  Do you have any thoughts on a name?”

“She’s your daughter, you pick the name,” Amber reminds them.  “Just let me know, and I’ll have it put on the original birth certificate.”

They sit in the truck together and watch her drive away, Michael making no move to start the truck.  “We’re going to be dads.  I can’t believe it,” he turns to Alex, tears shining in his eyes.

“We have a daughter,” Alex says in awe. He gives Michael a watery smile.

“Do you want to name her Nora?” he asks Michael once they are on the way home.  Michael turns to briefly look at him, but doesn’t answer right away.

“She needs her own name,” Michael tells him once they are home.  “I don’t want her to feel like she has to live up to something or be a replacement.”

They call Beth the next morning. She tells them that since Amber is an enrolled member of the Tribe, the adoption needs to be approved by the Tribal Council.  That also means Beth can handle the paperwork rather than requiring them to go with a private agency that handles infant adoptions. She meets them at the hearing, and Alex can’t help but apologize for not following through on their plans.

“Alex, there’s nothing to be sorry about.  Would I have loved to place one of my kids with you, of course I would.  But a child who needs a family is going to be raised in a loving home.  How can I not see that as a win?”

“It feels like this is what was supposed to happen,” he admits.

“Then let’s go get you your daughter.”

Since Alex is also an enrolled member, and they’ve committed to enrolling the baby, the hearing is mostly a formality. Greg comes and speaks on their behalf, and in less than an hour, the adoption is approved.

The hearing is also the last time they see Amber in person.  They talk for a few minutes after, but Alex can tell while she’s obviously relieved, she doesn’t want to linger.  Her smile brightens when Michael tells her the name they’ve chosen, Amirah Estelle.

“It’s beautiful, I think she’ll love it.”

There’s no way to thank her for what she is giving them so they just try not to make it awkward.  They introduce her to Beth, and quietly say goodbye, leaving them to discuss the details of what comes next for Amber.

Their second anniversary falls a month before Amber’s due date, and they spend a week at Eduardo’s villa in Mexico celebrating.  It has a private beach, and Alex watches the sun turn Michael’s skin a deep gold while lightening his curls so he glows in a way that makes Alex’s chest hurt.  Alex spends hours licking the salt from Michael’s skin while they get sleepy drunk on Valenti’s family tequila.  It’s perfect and the days stretch out and go by too fast at the same time.

“We won’t be able to do this next year,” Michael says on their last night.

Alex looks up from where he’d been dozing on Michael’s chest, listening to Michael’s heartbeat while Michael stroked his hair.  “Someone will take her for a few days, or we’ll just bring her with us.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Alex props himself up on his elbow.  “I was afraid of losing this when you first mentioned kids.  I was worried about losing parts of you, but now I’m more excited about the parts of you I’ll gain.”

“Like what?” Michael asks, wiggling down on the bed so their faces are even.

“I want to see you hold our daughter, I want to see you show her the stars, and I want to see if you’ll be strict about homework or get thrown out of Little League games or if you’ll be the one to braid her hair.  I love everything about you, Michael.  And now I get to see you as a father and love you even more.”

“Alex,” Michael breathes, blinking back tears.  “I love you so much, and I can’t believe I get to have a baby with you.  You are going to be an amazing father.”

“I hope so,” Alex smiles at Michael’s confidence in him.  “But in the meantime, we should take advantage of our time alone.  He kisses Michael, laughing when Michael rolls them over, and there’s no more talking after that.

They come home to find a nursery painted in a muted version of the Oasian sky, stars dotting the ceiling and iridescent butteerflies and glowing birds flying across the walls.  The empty room they left behind is fully furnished, the closet and dresser filled with clothes.

“You said no baby shower, but you didn’t say no gifts,” Isobel reminds them when she shows them the room.  “Rosa’s been working on the design for weeks with Max so you better like it.”

It’s beautiful, and he and Michael find themselves in there several times a day.  Seeing the space for a baby in their home makes their impending parenthood finally feel real.

Beth is the one to call them when Amirah is born, and she meets them when they arrive.  “She looks great,” she immediately reassures them.  “Healthy and strong.  The hospital will keep her for forty-eight hours, and you can stay with her in one of the family rooms off the NICU.  If Amber signs the relinquishment papers, you can take her home after that.”

Neither of them ask what will happen if Amber doesn’t sign the papers, because they can’t think about that when they desperately want to meet their daughter.  She’s sleeping when they first see her, a tiny bundle in the hospital bassinet.  The lights are turned down low, but Alex can still see the way her hair peeps out from underneath her hat, see the curve of her cheek.

The nurse in the room fills them in on all her measurements - weight, length, APGAR score. “We want to do two hours of skin to skin contact with both of you to help with the bonding process.”

Alex knew this was coming, but it’s still awkward to take off their shirts and climb into a hospital bed together.  He nudges Michael to go first when the nurse comes over with Amirah.  She settles her against Michael’s chest and covers them with a blanket.  “Feel free to play music if you want or just talk to her.  I’ll be back when it’s time for her next bottle.  Just hit the alert button if you need anything.”

And then they’re alone, just the three of them.  And it hits Alex that it will be the three of them from now on.  He and Michael have a daughter.  Alex is sitting behind Michael so he tucks his face into his neck so he can see Amirah over Michael’s shoulder.

Alex watches as Michael carefully traces one finger over her face and down her back.  Amirah’s still asleep, but she wiggles slightly in response to Michael’s touch.  “She’s so beautiful,” Michael whispers.

“Mmmhmm,” Alex hums his agreement.  He turns his head to look at Michael, soaking in the love and awe on his face.  Tears fall silently, and Alex brushes them away before kissing his cheek.

There’s something intimate and peaceful about this time alone together, Alex holding Michael while he holds their daughter, the room dark and quiet.  He understands why the hospital recommends it.  Just when Amirah starts to fuss, the nurse comes in with her bottle.  She walks them through feeding and changing her.  When she is settled and checked over, they rearrange themselves on the bed, and this time the nurse hands Amirah to Alex.

She blinks up at him before falling back asleep, and he can’t believe how small and light she is for all the space she takes up in his heart.  Alex doesn’t cry when he holds her.  His love for her doesn’t feel soft - it’s fierce and already rooted deeper than he imagined.  He told Michael once that he would burn the world down for him, and he knows he would do the same for Amirah in a heartbeat.  Alex closes his eyes and settles himself and Amirah in Michael’s embrace and silently promises that her happiness and safety will always be his priority.

Their two days in the hospital are a nice bubble from the world, but they also go by quickly - a crash course in caring for a baby they both need.  Research and video tutorials can’t truly prepare them for a living child.  They learn that Amber was released the morning after Amirah was born, and she signs the relinquishment papers as soon as the forty-eight hours are up.  Greg later tells Alex that Amber spent a week with her grandmother before returning to Stanford for the second summer session.

Beth brings them all the paperwork they need to prove they have custody of Amirah once she is ready to be released.  She walks them out, hugging them both once Amirah is secure in her car seat.  “I’ll be by in a few weeks to check in on her, make sure you are all settling in.  And remember, you can’t post any pictures until the adoption is finalized.”

Michael laughs, “No worries there.  Alex has strong opinions about the dangers of social media.”

“It’s not just identity theft, which is easy enough, but anything you post can be manipulated.  I can’t believe how vulnerable people leave themselves for a few seconds on validation.”  Michael clears his throat, and Alex realizes he probably shouldn’t explain how he can - and has - used social media as a weapon against people he found profiting off stolen alien artifacts.  Beth doesn’t need to know he can ruin someone’s life in five minutes without ever leaving his desk.

“I can tell she’s in good hands,” Beth smiles at them.  “We’ll talk soon.”

Their first week at home is a disaster.  Everything that was so easy at the hospital becomes a battle.  Amirah doesn’t want to eat or sleep, she flails through her bath, making both Alex and Michael terrified of dropping her.  “Do you think it’s safe for me to catch her with telekinesis if we drop her?” he asks as they struggle to contain a slippery infant.

“It’s better than letting her hit the floor,” Alex admits.  “But we should probably stick with just not dropping her.”

Despite their eagerness to introduce her to their family, the constant stream of visitors makes it hard to settle into a routine.  Everyone has advice to give even though, Arturo excluded, they have no more experience with babies than Alex or Michael do.  Amirah shows a strong preference for Max - quieting the quickest when he holds her.  No one can figure out exactly what he’s doing, but it almost always works.

“Well it’s not an alien thing,” Isobel tells them when Amirah refuses to take a bottle from her.

“And it’s not a guy thing,” Kyle says, conceding defeat when none of his doctor tricks work on getting her to sleep.

“Don’t look at me,” Liz hands Amirah back to Max after she spits up on her.  “I’ll be her favorite as soon as she’s old enough for her first chemistry set.  But for now, Max is the baby whisperer.”

Eventually the visits slow to a manageable level and they settle into daily life with a baby.  Sanders bans Michael from the junkyard for two weeks, and Alex has twelve weeks of paternity leave.  It’s all bottles and diapers and figuring out snaps on clothes and still remembering to walk Charlie, but they make it work.

The first time Amirah reaches for him, kicking her legs and cooing, when he goes to pick her up, Alex finds himself tearing up.  He sits with Amirah in the recliner and lets himself cry the tears he didn’t have at the hospital.  As she watches him, eyes too wise for her age, he realizes it is not just about him loving her, it’s also about her loving him, about her looking to him for love and guidance and support. 

Michael finds him, and asks carefully, “Are you ok?”  When Alex nods, he settles on the floor in front of them, resting his head on Alex’s knee.  “It’s a lot, isn’t it.”

“I didn’t realize,” Alex’s voice trails off, not sure what he’s trying to say.

“I know,” Michael says. “She’s everything.”

Alex knows Michael understands everything he doesn’t have words for yet, and he’s so grateful they’re doing this together.  “Not just her,” Alex runs his hand through Michael’s hair.  

“Yeah,” Michael agrees, turning his head to kiss Alex’s knee.  Neither of them move until Amirah demands her dinner.

Amirah’s first cold is a week of sleepless nights and worrying.  Three days into it, Isobel arrives with dinner and a promise to walk with Amirah so they can eat and take a nap.  The food is delicious, but Alex’s eyes are dropping before he gets halfway through his milkshake.  He falls asleep on the couch while Michael is showing Isobel how the vaporizer works.

He wakes to voices and the smell of coffee and realizes Michael and Isobel must be in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe she’s still asleep,” Michael says.

“I may have encouraged her a bit,” Isobel replies.

Alex sits up, suddenly wide awake, but before he can get up he hears Michael say something he can’t quite make out.  Isobel laughs in response.

“I’m kidding.  No influencing the baby, I got it.”

Alex relaxes again, letting their conversation wash over him, tuning in when something catches his attention.

“You’re a good dad, Michael.  I knew you would be,” he hears Isobel tell Michael.

“You’ll be a good mom, too,” he assures her.

“Maybe,” Isobel sighs.  “I’m not sure it will happen for me.”

“Hey, my offer of baby gravy still stands.”

Alex makes a face at the same time he hears Isobel snort.

“I told you not to call it that.  And while I appreciate the offer, I figure it out myself if I’m ready.”

“If you change your mind, all you have to do is ask.”  Michael’s reply is the last thing Alex hears before he falls asleep again.

The next time he wakes up, the house is dark and Isobel is gone.  He checks on Amirah and finds her still asleep in her crib, breathing a little easier, Charlie guarding her from the hallway.  Michael is also asleep so Alex takes a quick shower before joining him in bed.  He watches Michael sleep and thinks of his conversation with Isobel.  Since they planned on adopting older children, they never talked about other options.  But Amirah changed that, and Alex wonders if Michael wants a child of his own - one with his curls or his quick mind.

He brings it up the next morning after Amirah’s bath.  “If we had another baby, would you want to use a surrogate?”

“What?” Michael looks up from where he’d been rubbing lotion onto Amirah’s legs.

“I heard you and Isobel talking last night,” Alex shrugs.  “We never considered it before, and I wondered if that’s something you’d want.”

“Nah,” Michael shakes his head before leaning down and blowing a raspberry on Amirah’s belly.  “You think I could love this one more if we shared some DNA.  No way.”

“It’s not about that, I just want you to have the option.”

“Don’t need it,” Michael insists.  “I have no desire to pass on my genetics.”  He holds up a hand when Alex starts to protest.  “I do it for Isobel if she asked, but it’s not how I want to build our family.  I like what we’re doing so far.  Ok?”

“Ok,” Alex agrees, picking up Amirah and wrestling her into a clean sleeper.

When Alex’s leave is up, he makes arrangements to work from home three days a week, and Michael adjusts his schedule so one of them is always home with Amirah.

“I can’t believe it,” Liz shakes her head when he tells her.  “I thought you’d be dying to get back to work.”

“Not really.  Don’t get me wrong, there are some projects I am eager to get back to, but I’d much rather work from home as much as I can.”  Alex peeks under the blanket he’d thrown over Amirah to make sure she was still asleep before shifting her a little higher on his chest.  Max and Liz had come over for dinner and it was warm enough for Liz and Alex to stay out on the deck while Max and Michael were in the workshop going over something for Max’s next visit to Oasis.  She snuffles a little so he kisses her forehead and shushes her softly. “That’s my girl,” he croones once she closes her eyes again.

“You're such a dad,” Liz smiles at him when he looks up. 

Alex smiles back, not the slightest bit concerned about letting everyone know how much he loves his daughter.  “She makes it easy.”

“No, I think it’s you.  You and Michael both, you’re meant for this.  Max will be an amazing father, too.  And we’re starting to talk about when and how that might happen, but I don’t think I’ll be the one staying home,” Liz admits hesitantly.

“That’s fine,” Alex reaches over and squeezes her hand.  “There’s no one way to do this, and you know that.  Besides, I don't think there is a safe way to run a genetics lab in the same house as children, and you still have a Nobel Prize to win.”

“True,” Liz laughs.

Alex looks at Liz and finally works up the courage to ask the question he’s been afraid to ask.  “Has she reached out to you?”

“Alex,” Liz chides him gently.  “Do you really want to know?”

“No,” Alex admits guiltily.  “It’s just I’m happy Liz, I’m so fucking happy, but I don’t know if Amber is.  And I don’t want to know because,” he tightens his hold on Amirah.  “Because I wouldn’t change anything.”

“You’re responsible for Amirah and her happiness, not Amber’s,” Liz tells him.

“It’s hard to remember that when I have her daughter.”

“Amirah is your daughter, not Amber’s.  That’s the choice Amber made, and one you and Michael accepted.  From what you told me, she knew what she wanted.  Don’t take her choice away from her because you feel guilty about being happy.”

Alex knows she’s right, but the closer the adoption gets, the more he worries that somehow he’s unworthy of so much happiness, and he’s going to lose it.  He and Caleb are working on it, but it’s a hard demon to shake.  “What would you have done,” he asks Liz, “if you had gotten pregnant in college?”

Liz looks stricken when he asks the question, and he instantly feels guilty for even asking.  “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“No it’s ok.  Probably something like this,” Liz gestures to Alex and Amirah before biting her lip and looking away.  “Or maybe I wouldn’t have let it get this far.”

“Liz,” Alex takes her hand again, mentally berating himself for asking her to bare her soul to comfort him.

She looks up and crosses herself, muttering in Spanish before squeezing his hand.  “Papi would be devastated if he knew I thought it let alone said it out loud, but it’s true.  I worked so hard to be the smartest, to be the best, and for a long time that’s all I had.  I couldn’t have given that up, it would have killed me.”

Alex just shakes his head, not knowing what to say.

“When you are a girl, you’re told anything you want to do, anything you accomplish is temporary.  You’re supposed to set it aside one day to be a mother.  That’s supposed to be your real dream.  But that’s not true for all of us.  It’s not true for me, and if Amber’s as much like me as she sounds, it’s not true for her either.  What you did, giving her the freedom to follow her dreams, that was a gift.  You helped both of them, you didn’t take anything from her.”

“I hope you’re right,” he says softly.

“I’m always right,” Liz insists, breaking the tension.

Amirah’s adoption is finalized when she’s six months out.  She’s quiet in Alex’s arms, taking in the unfamiliar environment.  But when the judge asks for a picture with the new family, she giggles and pulls at his beard.  The picture on their mantle shows all of them laughing, the judge making a funny face at Amirah as she claps her hands.

Since their hearing was in the morning, Maria throws a party at the Wild Pony before it opens.  Amirah is happy to be passed from person to person, basking in the attention, leaving Alex and Michael free to socialize and eat using both hands.  She crashes a few hours in, falling asleep in Max’s arms.

As things are winding down, Alex boxes the leftover cake and snags Maria by the waist when she walks by to clear away the empty platters.  “Thanks for this,” he presses a kiss to her temple.

“I remember you telling me you wanted your kids to grow up in the Pony, so this seemed like a good way to start,” Maria teases him.

“This isn’t quite what I meant,” he says, feeling the gentle tug of nostalgia for the dreams he once had.

“I know,” Maria agrees softly. “But it’s how it was always meant to be.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, looking over to where Amirah is awake and back with Michael, both of them flipping through a picture book Rosa made for her. 

They’re not her first steps, but one day Amirah runs from Michael to Alex on unsteady legs, yelling “Da, Da, Da, Da,” and Alex knows what he wants.  He catches her in her arms, kissing her face and neck until she is laughing and wiggling to get down so she can run back to Michael. 

Alex doesn’t say anything then because it’s easy to be sure when Amirah is happy and Michael is playing with her and listening to her babbling like she’s telling him the secrets of the universe.  He waits until after bath time when Amirah screams the whole time because she recently decided she hates getting her hair wet.  He waits until he’s more exhausted than she is, but she’s still fighting sleep, her earlier cries whittled down to occasional wet gasps.

He waits while Michael straightens the bathroom and takes Charlies out.  He waits until they fall into bed, too tired to do more than cuddle.  He waits until nothing is perfect, but he still knows what he wants.

“I think we should call Beth,” he whispers into Michael’s neck.

[dragonbinx]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Michael Guerin, Alex Manes, Isabel Evans | Isobel Evans Additional Tags: Pride, Prom, Pride Prom, Past Child Abuse, Married Life Series: Part 26 of Pride Fics 2024! 🌈 Summary:

On the last week of May, Michael had only taken one sip of coffee before Alex put the flyer down in front of him.  He squinted down at it blearily. "Pride prom?”

“Yeah.  It’s for kids from nearby towns that don't let them have same-sex dates, or who aren't comfortable or safe going to their regular prom.  We're throwing it at the high school and we need volunteers."

"Pass."

Micheal goes to a Pride prom at his old high school, and it stirs up some feelings.

[pastelwitchling]

Malex smut.

***

              Michael smiled against the crook of Alex’s neck as his husband writhed beneath him, Michael buried to the hilt inside him.

              “M-Michael,” he stammered, breathless and red as Michael squirmed enough that the head of his cock brushed Alex’s prostate, but he didn’t move. He didn’t thrust or pound Alex into the bed, he just stayed buried, brushing Alex’s sweet spot as his husband turned damp beneath him, his back arched, his nails carving into Michael’s biceps.

              “You’re so gorgeous like this,” Michael breathed, nuzzling Alex’s jaw, his chin, his cheek. “Naked and sweaty and mine.”

              “Michael –”

              “Spread your legs more.”

              Alex bit his lower lip, but complied, pushing his legs further apart.

              Michael kissed his ear and in a voice like gravel, said, “Good boy.” Alex shivered against him, whimpering as he hugged his shoulders, clinging to him.

              Michael couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He couldn’t believe that he alone got to have Alex like this; vulnerable and wanting and pleading.

              Squirming again, Michael gave him the barest of thrusts, and Alex gasped, arching his back, eager for whatever Michael would give him.

              Michael caught his face in one hand. He bit Alex’s lower lip and tugged, then licked the bite mark. “Who do you belong to?”

              Alex looked like he was struggling to breathe. Michael loved it. “You.”

              Michael rewarded him with another thrust, long and deeper and harder. “Who do you worship?”

              “You.”

              Another thrust.

              Michael chuckled breathlessly against his jaw, inhaling the smell of his sweat as Alex moaned.

              “You feel so good,” Michael huffed, his heart hammering. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”

              Alex whimpered. “Please.”

              Michael admired Alex’s stubble against his fingers, the flush of Alex’s cheeks, the unshed tears in his eyes as pleasure overtook every single one of his senses. He was safe here, and he knew he was safe here. That was Michael’s favorite part. How vulnerable Alex was only in Michael’s arms because he knew Michael would destroy the world before he let it hurt a hair on Alex’s head.

              “Tell me you love me,” Michael huffed against his ear.

              Without a moment’s hesitation, Alex breathed, “More than anything.”

              Michael’s heart hammered for a completely different reason at the promise in Alex’s voice, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He drew back and thrusted into Alex with a loud slap. It took two more thrusts before they were both coming harder than they had in days.

              As they lay panting afterwards, Michael’s body halfway on top of Alex’s as their chests heaved, Alex ran his hands up and down Michael’s back, his eyes shut. “You enjoy torturing me way too much.”

              Michael grinned and bit into Alex’s shoulder, making him hiss. “My dick has a price.”

              Alex huffed a chuckle, which quickly turned into a laugh. Michael couldn’t look away. Tracing his husband’s jaw, he shook his head. “Your smile is unreal. Have I ever told you that?”

              Alex’s laughter faded from his lips, but not from his eyes as he turned to look at Michael’s face. “Once or twice. A week.”

              “It’s true.”

              Alex poked his ribs. “You’re unreal.”

              Michael bit his lower lip, and leaned in, thrusting his hip against Alex’s thigh. His cock was already hardening again, and Alex burst into laughter.

              “You really are unreal! Don’t you get tired?”

              “Not of you,” Michael said, like it was obvious, already moving to hover over his giggling husband. "Never of you."

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤️

[indarkstars]

So I wrote 1 chapter to an AU fic back in 2019 (here if you want to read it) and have no earthly idea if there’s beeen some discourse but I gotta say getting hate mail on a fic I wrote five years ago is kind of hilarious. Truly the most unprompted transphobic vomit—kind of funny but also, fandom I’ve not really looked at past 2020 maybe, you doing okay?

[andrea-lyn]

Michael officially hates love -- as Roswell's finest jeweler, he's seen it fall apart one too many times. Still, when Isobel sends him a brand new client, suddenly Michael's beginning to realize that it isn't love that he hates -- it's the fact that he met someone he could love with all his heart and soul, and he's already engaged to someone else. (At least, he is for now)

Lo and behold, Chapter 1/3 of the Malex jewellery AU lives! Weekly updates to come on this one as it's done, but just needs edits. fyi, you will see Forrest in the pairings, but he doesn't actually make an appearance in the fic.

[bekkachaos]

For the writing prompt - #5 for Malex please ☺️☺️

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Deep Sky didn't get many new recruits, but when they did, they were obviously brilliant in one way or another.

The newest team member, a twenty-something classical physicist named Ash, had been labelled somewhat of a prodigy and after a rocky initiation, fit right in.

Not only was he somewhat of a human calculator but he had a quick witted nature about him that everyone seemed to love.

He and Alex got along very well. They bounced ideas off one another and were usually on a very similar wavelength when it came to their thoughts, so when the two of them came together on a project they usually got a lot further than others had in half the time.

Alex sat on the couch at home, the dregs of a glass of wine sat on the coffee table as Michael walked over with a glass of whiskey and the last of the bottle to top up Alex's glass. He had been regaling a story from earlier in the day about some piece of technology they had been tinkering on together, his mouth drawn up in a smile as he explained the way he watched Ash work and how Eduardo had started to joke that they were sounding like an old married couple.

"Honestly, I was never that smart at his age," Alex said as Michael put down the empty bottle and slotted in beside him so that he could put his arm around his shoulders. "I think it should probably be illegal. He just gets this crazed look on his face when he's onto something, although today that led to him nearly electrocuting himself."

He chuckled as he looked back at Michael who just nodded, smiling with just his lips and eyebrows before he took a drink from his own glass.

"Sounds like fun," he said dryly, making Alex narrow his eyes at him curiously.

"Okay, what's with the mood?" he said, making Michael shrug in that infuriating way he did when he was about to make Alex guess what was going on in his brain.

"No mood," he said.

"There's a mood, or, you know, thoughts happening in there," he smirked, making Michael roll his eyes.

"No thoughts," he shrugged again, and Alex chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I mean I've just been sitting here listening to you talk about spending all day with some guy, but no, no real thoughts."

"I've been talking about the project, Guerin," Alex shook his head. "Ash is helping me with that so he's probably going to come up. What have you got against him? You didn't mind him when you came in to drop me some food last week."

"Never said I had anything against him," he said, smirking back at Alex and nudging his shoulder with his chest. "Have you? Had anything against him?"

He was teasing, in tone, but Alex knew Michael well, enough to know the way he was tensing his body up, deflecting with jokes and an arrogant curl of his mouth. It was the same posturing he did when he became defensive, protective, and one other thing.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Michael squirmed a little, scoffing with a roll of his eyes.

"Of that scrawny kid?" he said, snorting derisively and making Alex bite his lip to stop from laughing.

"You're the same build as he is."

"You noticed that huh?"

"Michael," he said with an exasperated sigh, putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "If you find him attractive well that's on you, don't bring me into it."

"So you don't then?" Michael asked, that antagonistic smirk still glued to his mouth.

"Honestly? I haven't noticed," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I don't notice those things anymore. If you asked then yeah, objectively I could say he's an attractive guy. But I'm not attracted to him."

Michael let out a sigh through his nose, his lips faltering a moment as he gave away the facade, putting his glass down on the table and letting his hand rest on Alex's knee.

"So you don't need to be jealous, of him, or anyone else," he said, reaching out to press his palm to Michael's chest, sliding it up and over the crook between his shoulder and neck.

And then the smirk was back, a shrug of his shoulders as he slid his hand further up Alex's thigh, over his hip and slipping his fingers under the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't worry, I'm not," he said, leaning in until he could place a soft kiss under Alex's jaw, his head tilting up willingly to give him the space to crowd him closer. "I mean, can that guy do this?"

He mumbled the words into his skin, chasing them down with his tongue, then his lips, his hand rising higher under Alex's shirt until he was slowly pulling back so that Alex could raise his arms and be stripped out of it.

Michael's arrogant smirk was replaced by parted lips and hungry eyes, making Alex roll his eyes as he let Michael shift him so that he had one leg on the couch and the other on the floor, a perfect fit between them for Michael to settle.

"Nah, he just gets the science and that little wrinkle you get when you think too hard," he grinned, making Alex chuckle and drop his head back a moment.

"You're an idiot," Alex said as Michael leant in over him.

"You're in love with an idiot," he smiled, leaving a soft kiss against Alex's lips. "What does that say about you?"

send me a pairing and a prompt from this list 💕

[oatflatwhite]

new rnm fic! read her here :)

[aydann-runs]

I managed a short chapter this week. Happy Friday <3

[notsowrites]

for the Roswell New Mexico Big Bang 2023

SUMMARY: During Open Mic Nite at the Pony, Maria is visited by a descendant of hers with a message and a warning.

A year later, Alex returns to Roswell after cleaning up Project Shepherd and exploring relics left behind by extinct ancient civilizations to begin to unravel the mystery of Maria's mysterious visitor and the connection to her latest visions.

Based on the "lost" Season 3 summary: Someone will receive an earth-shattering message from an ethereal, yet somehow battle-hardened woman named Emilia who has traveled a great distance to relay this important information.

Read it here on AO3 and don't forget to check out check out the lovely artwork by @dr-lizortecho! 💜