#‘I’m sorry Maria you’d never understand’ LOL OKAY BUDDY

[womb-complex]

Maria must’ve been like superrrr passive if she had no idea what was going on in River Fields. Like personally if that were me I’d camp out in the mortuary and break in to see what Raymond has been up to for the past decade

[spaceskam]

anon prompt: I don't suppose you'd be willing to write a coda to your own little "spite" fic, would you? Something like how Maria finds out Michael spent the night with Forrest and Alex and gets mad about it, but they're like "not everything is about sex you know." If you don't want to, that's cool. Just thought I'd ask lol

follow up to this; it’s a mix of this prompt and just straight-up self-indulgence that has been on my mind since I finished the original

ao3

Michael woke up slow, his mind reminding him that he was snuggled into Alex and, thus, making him really not want to move.

He could hear Alex breathing and feel his heart beating, all the best signs that he was doing great. Michael’s hand was still pressed over his stitches and the hand print that he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know had fully formed. He could feel that too. Loving Alex was never as easy as it was in that moment when he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Alex loved him right back, even though he was still sound asleep.

However, Michael smelled coffee and eggs and, well, he hadn’t fucking eaten anything in a day. So he opened his eyes and reluctantly peeled away from Alex, looking over him to make sure he was okay. He looked more peaceful than Michael had ever seen him. Still, he peeled his hand away from his stitches and moved it to his forehead, checking for a fever. He couldn’t really tell, but he didn’t feel any hotter than he normally did so that felt like a good sign. 

A stupid part of his brain wanted to kiss him awake or just kiss him in general, but that wasn’t an option when Alex’s boyfriend was in the next room. So he didn’t, just let his hand slowly trace over his cheek and his jaw before pushing himself up.

The old mattress creaked no matter how careful he moved and Forrest’s head popped out from the kitchen. 

“Morning,” Forrest called, smiling softly before he disappeared back into the kitchen. Michael got up, his back hurting just a little bit from such a shitty mattress. That is to say, it wasn’t his shitty mattress, so his back wasn’t quite used to it yet.

“Morning,” Michael said, clearing his throat as he pulled himself into the kitchen. It was old and underused, but Forrest had still managed to put together a breakfast. “Where’d all this stuff come from?”

“Uh, I took your truck, hope you don’t mind, but there’s a farm about a mile from here and I know one of the farmhands, so I asked to borrow some stuff,” he said simply. Michael eyed him and then the carton of eggs, the coffee grounds, the perfect procured bacon, fresh milk, and presumably gas for the generator if the working stove said anything.

“You used to sleep with a farmhand who just gives you shit without question?” Michael clarified. Forrest grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“You have your ways, I have mine.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing.”

Michael poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, watching Forrest layout bacon on the pan like he’d done this a million times. And maybe he had. Michael wasn’t sure what a typical morning after with Forrest Long might’ve looked like.

“How are you feeling?” Forrest asked, looking over at him. Michael had to blink a few times before he realized he was talking to him. Right, he actually wanted an answer.

“Uh, my head’s still a little fucked and my back hurts from that mattress, but otherwise I’m more worried about Alex,” Michael admitted. Forrest nodded. He cleared his throat. “A-and you. How are you? Are you okay? Yesterday was a lot.”

“I’m okay,” Forrest sighed, “Still processing the alien thing, I guess, but I can wait for more information later. And it’s not every day your boyfriend gets kidnapped and then presumably kills four guys with his bare hands and one leg.”

“Yeah, Alex is a badass,” Michael laughed softly. Forrest nodded.

“You got that right,” he huffed, “I knew that, but I guess I never really... knew it. Like I was aware that he was pretty decently high ranking for his age and that he was apart of special intelligence ops and stuff, but he’s... Is he gonna be okay? Is this gonna fuck with him mentally?”

Michael shook his head slightly. “No. Alex only would’ve done that if they were going to do something much worse. He would’ve only subdued them unless they were doing something actually harmful. I think he’ll be okay. Might take a little reassuring, but he’ll be okay.”

Forrest flipped the bacon and nodded, thinking it over. Michael just watched him for a moment while he sipped his coffee before peeking back out to check on Alex. He was still sound asleep. It was probably the longest Alex had ever slept at one time.

“I checked his stitches,” Forrest said suddenly.

“You did?” Michael asked hesitantly. In the info dump of alien bullshit, Michael hadn’t really gone over the concept of a hand print.

“Yeah, both of you slept a lot harder than I did. Kept waking up, so I just made sure you were both breathing and that Alex wasn’t bleeding,” he explained. Michael held his breath subconsciously, not really understanding how someone just casually woke up to make sure he was still breathing. For Alex, yes. But for him? “So, uh... The hand print.”

“The hand print,” Michael repeated. Forrest started separating the eggs and bacon on three separate plates, each of them seeming to be made of wood. “Uh, we don’t really know why it leaves one when we heal people. The working hypothesis is that we’re giving so much of ourselves that it sort of... leaves a trace.”

“So it’s not gonna hurt him?”

“No, he’ll be okay.”

“And you? Does it hurt you?” he asked, turning and handing him a plate. Michael grabbed it and furrowed his eyebrows, staring at him for an extended amount of time. Forrest didn’t seem phased as he waited for an answer. “Does it hurt you?”

“Um,” Michael said, “Not... not really.” He tilted his head in concern, but Michael spoke again before he got the chance. “I’m sorry, I’m just still confused. Why do you care about me? I know you said that I take care of Alex, you take care of me, but... I’m Alex’s ex. I still love him. You should hate me.”

Forrest laughed and shook his head, putting his and Alex’s plate down and using his hand to touch Michael’s arm gently as if he was about to make a very important point that Michael should listen to. So, obviously, he did. 

“Let me explain it like this. You’ve both been through more shit than I can even imagine and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that neither of you have had a real safe space before. And, well, you love Alex and Alex loves you. You protect him and he protects you and, fuck, you both protected me. That’s what you do for people you love, isn’t it? Yesterday was scary and we only made it out because it was all three of us, that makes us family. I take care of family, so let me do what I can since I don’t have superpowers or, special training like you and Alex,” Forrest explained. It still didn’t really compute as he stared blankly at him. Forrest rolled his eyes. “I care about you, Michael, stop questioning it. Eat.”

Michael stood there, feeling frozen in place as Forrest just picked the plates back up and walked into the living room. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel or respond to that. Alex’s boyfriend liked him. Not in a I-Wanna-Sleep-With-You way, but in a You’re-Safe-Here way. Was he allowed to like that? Would Alex be mad if he did?

He blinked away tears that threatened to fall and turned to go eat breakfast with the two of them. 

Alex was sitting up against the two pillows the three of them had shared the night before, bare shoulders seeming that healthy color with the sun peering through the windows instead of how pale he’d looked when he was hurt. That helped Michael breath a bit better and he sat cross-legged on Alex’s left side, across from where Forrest sat on his right.

“Morning,” Alex said, reaching out to touch his arm as if he couldn’t help himself. Michael’s eyes drifted to Forrest who didn’t seem phased. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t jealous. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t all that jealous either for once. 

“Morning,” Michael told him, eyes scanning over his face to make sure he was okay, “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Alex admitted, picking up a piece of bacon and biting into it, “Better than I should be after getting stabbed.”

“Stabbed? I thought it was a GSW,” Forrest said, leaning forward and pressing his fingers around the slightly swollen area that was glowing with Michael’s hand print. Seeing him touch it, feeling him secondhand, made Michael feel like getting caught in a wave in the middle of the ocean. He was just drowning in feelings he didn’t understand. He had to take a deep breath to bring himself back.

“I think it was both?” Alex said far too casually, touching the stitches himself. Again, Michael got taken out by a wave. “Yeah, one of ‘em shot me and then his buddy stabbed me to make it something that couldn’t be fixed. Clearly they forgot I have good company.”

“Jesus, Alex,” Forrest sighed, shaking his head, “You will never fail to impress me.”

“Good,” Alex said with an easy smile. Michael watched them share a kiss, something short and not meant to hurt him and it didn’t. But it made him feel like his skin was on fire. “Sorry, Guerin, you okay? You feel weird.”

“Hmm?” Forrest hummed, looking between the two of them, “Feel? Is that what you meant by not really?”

“Not really what?” Alex asked. There was too much attention on him and Michael looked away. He didn’t really know how to explain himself. “Hey,” Alex said, his hand going to his chin and making him look at him, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I should go talk to Maria,” he said. Alex’s hand immediately dropped and hurt washed through his system.

“Oh, okay,” he said, clearing his throat. Forrest’s eyebrows knitted together, tilting his head. “Are you gonna come back?”

“Um,” Michael said, looking between the two of them before nodding, “Yeah, I’ll be back in a couple hours. Call me if you need me.”

Michael got up, plate still in hand, as he quickly slipped on his boots and headed out of the door. He needed to think things over. Mainly why the hell he didn’t hate Forrest right now.

He made it about halfway to his truck before he heard footsteps and his name being called. He couldn’t explain why, but he turned to give Forrest his attention.

“If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry,” Forrest said, “But Alex is on painkillers that make him emotional and you hurt his feelings.”

“Yeah, I can feel it, thanks for letting me know,” Michael said. Forrest stepped up to him and cautiously took the plate from him, hands brushing deliberately.

“It’ll be here when you get back,” he said, “I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

“You didn’t,” Michael admitted, “You didn’t and I’m still trying to figure out why you didn’t so I’m gonna go and I’ll be back later.”

“Okay. Drive safe.”

And, for some reason, Michael put in effort to listen.

-

“We’re closed.”

“For me?”

“Especially you.”

Michael hovered in the doorway at that, not quite understanding what he did wrong. Sure, he may have accidentally stood Maria up the day before, but he had a damn good excuse. He started walking towards the bar.

“Look, about last night, I–“

“Went on a little trip to the wilderness to spend the night with Alex and his boyfriend, yeah, I know,” Maria said, looking to him with more than a little bit of annoyance. He just blinked.

“Alex was hurt,” he said simply, “He needed me.”

“He had Forrest,” she said, “His boyfriend.”

“I had to heal him,” Michael tried to explain, “He needed me.”

Maria eyed him for a minute, irritation slipping into straight hurt. He felt like he missed a few steps and suddenly he really, really wanted to crawl back into bed with Alex and Forrest even though he was confused. They didn’t make him feel bad.

“So, what, you had to sleep with him to make him feel better?” she asked. Michael blinked and his head moved back in shock. Where the hell did she get that from?

“What?” he asked, “No. We didn’t–Where did that even come from?” She just stared at him like he should know. He couldn’t help but scoff. “It wasn’t about sex, we just had been through a shitty event and didn’t wanna be alone. We just slept.”

“Sure, like I believe that.”

“You don’t have to, but you should,” he said simply, no animosity in his voice, “Alex almost died and Forrest was shaken up, I wasn’t about to leave them.”

The stress seemed to build the more she stared at him with hurt, accusatory eyes. But then he could feel Alex, trying from afar to make sure he was okay and knew that he was loved. It made things click a little more in Michael’s head as to why he didn’t hate Forrest and it just so happened to be for similar reasons that Forrest didn’t hate him. They both loved Alex and Alex loved them both to the point that they were all a little too willing to put themselves in danger for each other. That was bound to bring two people together.

But, more importantly, it was hard to hate someone who put so much effort into making you feel safe and welcome. He’d been so scared of saying or doing something wrong that he hadn’t realized that, as long as he asked before he didn’t something drastic, he wouldn’t say or do anything wrong. They wanted him there because he was him, not because of who he was pretending to be. He was wanted.

Why had he even left in the first place?

“I didn’t sleep with Alex or Forrest, Maria,” Michael said, “It wasn’t about that. They just needed me there and I needed them. That’s what you do for people you love. Simple as that.”

“So you don’t love me?” she asked. He took a heavy, grounding breath and focused on Alex.

“I do,” he said honestly, “But I don’t think it’s the way you want me to.”

Maria stared at him for a moment before nodded, turning away from him. It was clear that was the end of them. He didn’t mind.

“Right. I don’t really want to see your face right now. Tell Alex I hope he feels better.”

“Okay.”

-

Michael took a deep breath as he stared at the cabin. He’d only been gone two and a half hours, having stopped at the store to get groceries since it was clear they were going to stay here until the rest of the crew figured out what was going on with whoever took Alex.

He grabbed the grocery bags and started heading towards the cabin, unlocking it with his mind to let himself in and then immediately locking it back. Forrest and Alex were still in bed and they turned to give him their attention when he walked in.

“Hey,” Alex said, trying to sit up.

“Hey,” he said back, “Let me go put these up.”

He headed into the kitchen where the fridge had gotten cold since Forrest had plugged it back in once he started up the generator that morning. He started putting what he got in there or in cabinets when he felt a hand on his hip. Michael jumped and spun around to see Alex holding his hand up in defense while the other clutched a crutch he absolutely should’ve heard. He had a soft smile on his face and he was still shirtless, eyes tired but still beautiful. He was beautiful. Really, unfairly beautiful.

“I’m sorry I left, I didn’t mean to upset you, but I needed to clear somethings up with Maria and–“

“Hey, we haven’t gotten the chance to talk just me and you,” Alex said softly, changing the subject away from Maria, “Can we do that now?”

Michael swallowed harshly and nodded, waiting. Maybe he wasn’t as wanted as he thought. But that idea only stayed in his mind for a few seconds because, instead of talking with their mouths, Alex grabbed his hand and pressed it to the hand print.

“I wanna try it,” he said, “Liz said we can share memories with it. Show me something?”

“Like what?” Michael asked, that confusion hitting him again. He knew that the last few months, Alex had been a lot more open with him, but this... Well, this felt like he was asking permission to cross one of those lines with his boyfriend in the next room.

“Anything.”

So Michael pressed his other hand on his back, pulling him in close and resting their forehead’s together. Alex gave him an encouraging smile before they both closed their eyes. And then he thought of Alex.

It wasn’t hard to do that, to just flood him with the way he saw things back in high school. The first time he saw him and being confused, playing Romeo opposite his Mercutio and being confused, staring at him in every advanced math class they shared and being confused, constantly just being lost until he realized he wanted to kiss him. Which cleared up the second he did.

He skipped over the pain of the night in the shed, instead skipping to long nights making out in the back of his truck in the desert. He reminded him of that one time they got caught by Sanders who acted like he didn’t see anything or that night that was so hot they were sweating buckets but couldn’t bear to separate or that night they went skinny dipping the only pond in Roswell. He showed him how much he missed him when he was gone, how happy he was when he was home, and how much he loved him even when he left. And he showed him how confused he was right now, not quite understanding what this meant for them.

He could deal with Forrest being kind to him and caring for him, but he couldn’t comprehend how Alex could feel how much they loved each other and not want anything. Right now, they knew, and yet that still didn’t make sense for them. How fucked up could they be?

“You thought you weren’t good enough for me?” Alex asked when he pulled away. Michael stared at him, wondering how that’s what he got from everything he’d shown him. “That day in your truck, when I said that I wanted to be with you, but not if you threw your life away, you thought that meant that I thought you weren’t good enough. And you never stopped feeling that way. You feel that way right now.”

Michael stared at him, unsure of how to answer. Alex looked sad all over again and it was his fault. He tried to pull his hand away, but Alex held onto it and stepped in closer so they were chest to chest with only their hands between them.

“You’re good for me,” Alex whispered, “You’re so good for me.”

“Your boyfriend’s in the next room,” Michael told him. Alex bumped his nose against Michael’s.

“You don’t think he knows how I feel about you?”

“He’s been too nice to me, I’m not about to–“

“Listen to me,” Alex said a little more firm, staring him in his eyes, “You don’t think he knows?”

Michael felt like his skin was on fire again, that wave hitting him again as Alex’s eyes flickered down to his lips.

“No,” Michael said, “You’re just feeling an echo of what I feel for you. That’s not real. Or-or if it is, you’re not in the right headspace. Forrest is in there.”

“You don’t think he knows?” Alex repeated, slower this time. Michael exhaled slowly, his shoulders deflating and his heart going haywire. 

“Knows what? You know I don’t understand half the things you say,” he said. Alex smiled and shrugged a shoulder.

“True,” he said, laughing softly. It sent chills down his spine. Alex’s hand slowly slid up his side and then two fingers pressed against his jaw, tilting it up and his eyes locked with Michael’s. It was unspoken as it usually was between them and Alex pressed a soft kiss to his lips, not lasting more than a second and yet somehow packing more of a punch than any kiss they’d ever shared. It wasn’t even like a real kiss, there wasn’t even passion, it was just him saying ‘hey, I’m here, you’re safe’. Michael loved it. “He knows about what I want.”

“And he doesn’t care? You’re his boyfriend,” Michael pointed out, torn between wanting to kiss him again and feeling guilty for doing that to a guy that had been so nice to him. But, more importantly, he’d shared Alex once and he never wanted to do that again. Still, Alex shook his head.

“I’m not gonna kiss you for real until the hand print is gone and we have a conversation about everything, okay?” Alex said. Michael nodded.

“I don’t wanna share you, Alex, not like that,” he said. Alex nodded.

“I know,” he whispered, fingernails gliding over his stubble, “But Forrest knows everything now, so he can’t just disappear completely.”

“Everything?”

“I filled him in on it all,” Alex confirmed, “He doesn’t want to leave even if that means not having a relationship like that. We already talked about it, we already set new boundaries.”

“How?” Michael asked. Alex smiled and shrugged.

“He’s a good man. Better than we’ve ever been raised to see,” he answered simply. Michael knew that well enough to not need any further explanation. “I love him and he loves me, but not necessarily the way we love each other, does that make sense?”

“So much.”

“Good.”

They sat there for a minute, just staring and sharing what exactly this meant. And it just meant that, for now, this was their new boundaries. Michael was okay with that.

He helped him with his crutch and they made their way back to the pullout couch. As uncomfortable as it was, he couldn’t imagine a place he’d rather be. Forrest didn’t seem upset which was wild in concept, but Michael appreciated in practice. He really was great.

“Thank you,” Michael told him as Alex got settled in the middle. Forrest just flashed a smile.

“No worries,” he said. Michael huffed a laugh and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed. “How’s your stitches?”

“Fine. Painkillers are wearing off, but I can handle it,” Alex said.

“You sure?” Forrest asked. Alex grinned his way and nodded. Michael settled into the pillow as he watched Forrest lean down to kiss him again. This time he recognized it as what it was: an act of comfort, not pleasure or romance or desire. Which would explain the weird feelings he got from the mark when they did it before and the kiss Alex had given him only a few minutes prior. That was definitely not something he was used to.

He liked it.

“You look exhausted even though you slept until noon,” Forrest noted as they all three got comfortable, “Is that like an alien thing?”

“No, it’s an ‘I just got accused of cheating and then got dumped’ thing,” he teased. Both men looked towards him with confused faces.

“She accused you of cheating? With us?” Forrest clarified, disbelief laced in his voice. Michael blew out a breath of air.

“Yep, apparently it’s weird to want to be around people if you don’t want to have sex,” Michael said. 

“I think if I tried to have sex, I would pop open my stitches and it would not be sexy to started bleeding from my abdomen in the middle of it,” Alex noted. Forrest snorted a laugh and his eyes went to his stitches again, double checking that they weren’t irritated.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t pop your stitches open, I think Kyle would’ve killed me,” Michael added. Alex smiled easily and closed his eyes, looking so relaxed that it was nearly unreal. Especially when they all knew he could feel the pain of literally being shot and stabbed and beaten.

“I feel really loved,” Alex admitted.

“Yeah, you definitely still are feeling the painkillers still at least a little,” Forrest whispered. He smiled a bit broader and shrugged his shoulder. 

Michael mindlessly pressed into Alex’s side, wanting to just fuel that feeling he had even more. He pressed his nose against Alex’s jaw, breathing in slow as he closed his eyes. Alex’s arm made it’s way under his head and his fingers wove into his hair, his bicep making the world’s best pillow. Michael’s hand went to it’s rightful place over the hand print.

“How close am I wanted?” Forrest asked carefully to both of them.

“As close as you want,” they both answered without hesitation. 

Michael had a newfound appreciation for Forrest in a way he hadn’t really expected, but he understood things better after thinking things over. Forrest was clearly as much as touchy as Alex was, if not more. Michael had taken it as clingy before, but now he was starting to see that’s just how he gave and received comfort. That’s why he kissed Alex when their new boundaries had been set, that’s why he touched Michael when got confused, that’s why he was so fucking aware at all times. Michael wasn’t used to platonic affection; he was interested.

So Forrest pressed up on Alex’s other side, the man in the middle having to lay on his back due to his wound. Then his arm went around, laying on top of Alex’s in Michael’s hair. His other arm draped over Alex’s abdomen and paralleled Michael’s. His fingers laid gently against Michael’s side, just enough to know that they were there.

And he was welcome.