#and them becoming friends!! perhaps. maybe even. because i have accidentally dug myself into a new rarepair hell. lovers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

no voice

warning: anxiety, selective mutism, implied child abuse

ao3

Alex Manes didn’t speak.

Michael watched him from afar for the entirety of middle school and high school. He’d seen people like and prod him to get him to speak. He’d seen people make fun of him and teachers dock his grade for refusing to speak. He’d even seen Alex’s father drag him out of detention, scolding all the way. No, Alex didn’t speak, but Michael seemed to be the only one who didn’t mind.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Alex had friends. Liz Ortecho and Maria DeLuca hung around him, never forcing him to talk yet managing to include him anyway. Perhaps it was creepy that Michael had noticed all these things, but Alex was too interesting not to pay attention to.

It was only when Michael became increasingly aware that he was running out of time with graduation approaching in just a few months that he realized he needed to do something. He needed to at least try to get to know Alex or he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

“Hey,” Michael said, standing beside Maria, Liz, and Alex’s lunch table. They looked up to him with various stages of confusion on their faces. “Uh… Can I sit with you guys?”

They all looked between each other, clearly trying to come up with the nicest way to say ‘I’d rather stab myself in the jugular’. They came up with nothing which is how Michael ended up sitting with them for lunch.

The first half was completely silent which was awkward as hell. Michael realized that he’d bombarded them with his presence, so it was probably his duty to create conversation. He looked between the three unfairly attractive group of people and tried to think of something to talk about. Before he could come up with anything, they all looked at him simultaneously as if they’d shared a goddamn mental conversation.

“Okay, I’ve decided that there are only three reasons you could be sitting with us. You’re either here to hit on one of us, to ask for tutoring, or because you were dared. Which is it?” Maria said bluntly. Michael’s eyes widened and had to wonder how many times that had happened that they had a list. And, more importantly, he was embarrassed that he fucking fell into that list. Not that he could admit that. He wanted to hit on Alex, but he had no idea if Alex was gay, straight, or something else entirely and he had no intention of outing anyone. It didn’t help that Alex didn’t actually speak so he couldn’t even find out. Maybe this was a bad idea…

“Ever think I’m just trying to make friends?” Michael tried.

“Four months before we graduate? Try again,” Maria said. He glared at her for a second before remembering she didn’t actually deserve to be glared at. Michael sighed and looked to Alex. As always, his face was expressionless and he was looking down at his untouched plate. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were in his lap. It didn’t take a genius to see that Michael’s presence was making him uncomfortable. Great. Way to fucking go.

“Fine, I-I need help with calculus,” Michael lied, “But it’s fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Michael started to get up and take the loss, but Liz stopped him. “Wait.”

“No, seriously, I’m not trying to impose myself,” he said. That was the truth. He’d spent years trying to get the courage to speak to Alex and, when he finally tried, he made him uncomfortable. He just wanted to go slam his head into a locker‒was that so hard to ask?

“Look, Alex and I study calc every Thursday at The Crashdown after school. If you show up, I won’t not help you,” Liz said. Michael looked at her and then to Alex who didn’t seem to have any opinion on the matter. Michael took a deep breath and decided he’d try one more time.

“Okay.”

Rule one to asking for math help: you have to actually act like you don’t know what you’re doing.

“You don’t actually need help,” Liz pointed out about fifteen minutes into their study session. Michael stared at her blankly and it occurred to him that he hadn’t actually tried to pretend he was confused. Again, as always, Alex wasn’t apart of the conversation. Michael wanted to know how he communicated. So far, he hadn’t figured it out.

“Um,” Michael said. He couldn’t come up with a good excuse anymore, so he instead said nothing.

“Look,” Liz sighed, “You can study with us still. I don’t mind. Just don’t lie.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Michael promised. She stared at him for a minute.

“Right, I’ll be right back, you good, Alex?” Liz asked. Alex made no move to respond, but she touched his shoulder for a few seconds and seemed to get an answer from that. She got up and disappeared into the back.

This was Michael’s chance.

“So…” he started. Alex’s eyes stayed on the book in front of him, showing his work with the complex equations. Michael didn’t know how to go about this. He decided to go full stupid and speak his mind. “The real reason I’m here is because I want to get to know you.” Alex stopped writing. “You can kick me if I go too far or say too much, but I’ve been wanting to get to know you for a long time. I look at you and… I don’t know, maybe I’m just superficial, but you’re gorgeous.”

Michael could see Alex get tense and he could see the way he clutched his pencil. His nails dug into his palm. He’d fucked up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Michael said, very quickly trying to gather his things so he didn’t make it worse. But then Alex looked up at him. He didn’t hold eye contact or even really make it in the first place, but it was something. Alex Manes didn’t do that. Michael didn’t know how to take it. “Can I give you my number? If you don’t want to use it, I understand, I won’t be mad, but… Can I?”

Alex’s movements were so subtle and controlled. It was hard to fully grasp. However, his phone ended up on the table between them. Michael blinked a few times before he very quickly gave the man his number. Maybe he wouldn’t ever use it, but he got further than he thought he would.

Liz sat back down after a minute with a tray of fries and Alex went back to putting his phone in his lap. Michael was on cloud nine, unable to hide his smile as he looked to Liz. She raised her eyebrow as she looked at him.

“Why are you smiley over calculus?” Liz asked. Michael tried to dial it back, but he found that literally impossible. Alex stole one look at him and it made it worse.

“I’m just… really happy I finally got down the application of triple integrals,” Michael said. She eyed him skeptically but didn’t press.

Alex ignored him for the rest of the night and it was still enough to make him skip all the way home.

“Hey, Mom, can I ask you a question?”

Michael watched his mother take the time to dry her hands from doing breakfast dishes and sit beside him before asking him to continue, her eyes wide with interest.

“Have you ever dealt with, like, kids that didn’t speak? Like that all?” Michael asked. Her head tilted to the side, her corkscrew curls squishing against her shoulder.

“Like mutism? Sure, a few times,” she answered.

“Do you know what causes it? Or do they just not like to? How do you talk to them or get them to talk or even just, like, communicate?” Michael asked.

“Whoa, slow down,” she laughed, her hand covering his, “Where’s all this coming from?”

Michael sighed, trying to think of the best way to say ‘I like a boy and he doesn’t speak and I gave him my number two days ago and he hasn’t texted me’. Of course, there wasn’t a best way to say that, so he just settled for half of the story.

“There’s a guy at school who doesn’t speak and I don’t know how to go about it without being rude,” Michael said. Her mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as she nodded.

Ingrid Guerin was a social worker assigned to Michael when he was just three years old. She had gone to college and gotten a degree to teach children with special needs, but decided that she wanted to become a social worker with “problem” children instead. By the time Michael was three, he’d already been labeled a problem child and got passed onto her. According to her stories, he was sweet to her and couldn’t figure out where the problems laid until she would get frantic calls at four in the morning because he was screaming at the top of his lungs and drawing on furniture and fighting anyone who got near him.

She watched him get passed from family to family, each one only being able to handle him for about six months before they wanted him gone. She was the only real constant in his life and the only one who seemed to understand that he just needed affection that people refused to give him. According to her stories that she told him very regularly, though, when he was eight years old, he accidentally called her ‘mama’ and she decided she couldn’t stand watching him be rejected anymore. Within a few months, she moved out of his jurisdiction and became his foster mom until she could adopt him three years later. She was his favorite person in the world.

“Well, I can’t tell you exactly where it stems because there’s a lot of different reasons someone becomes mute. Most of the time, though, they’re just born that way. Genetic social anxiety can show its face really young which can cause selective mutism and it takes a lot of therapy to even become manageable. But then there’s stuff like traumatic mutism which is something different, but it can overlap occasionally if someone who has selective mutism has repeatedly negative reinforcement about it. But, obviously, everyone is different and I don’t know this kid, so it could be a number of things,” she tried. Michael scrunched up his nose and accepted that the answer was a long, detailed ‘I don’t know’.

“How do I talk to him?”

“Um,” his mom said, humming to herself as she tapped against the back of his hand, “Maybe you don’t? Most of the children I’ve met who don’t speak take best to when there’s absolutely no pressure. Just… If you do talk, don’t make it feel like he has any obligation to speak back. So he knows you’re just trying to be nice. But it’s a very, very tricky thing.”

“He has two friends. I don’t know if he speaks to them or not, but he hangs out with them,” Michael said.

“Well, sometimes people with mutism can still speak to people they’re extremely comfortable with, even if it’s just in whispers. And, honestly, that’s what it is at the end of the day. It’s about comfort. It causes major anxiety for these people to even walk out of their house and be around other people. It can be paralyzing. They’re probably people he feels the most comfortable with,” she explained. Michael nodded slowly as he tried to think of ways to make Alex Manes feel comfortable with him.

“And… how do I do that?” he asked. His mom smiled and shook her head.

“I don’t know, babe, that’s something you have to find out,” she told him. He groaned.

“What’s the point of having a mom who knows this stuff if she can’t help me?”

She grinned and ruffled his head, smacking a kiss to his head before hopping off the bar stool. “Because I feed you. Now get to school.”

He couldn’t help but smile and listen.

“Love you, Mama!”

“Love you too, Mikey!”

“So, I was thinking about you and I think you would like this movie I watched.”

Alex very slightly looked up at Michael as he sat across from him in the empty Calculus room, but it was enough to show that he was paying attention so Michael took it as a win. On his trek to school, he decided that he would simply pay very close attention to Alex’s body language to see when he should go away.

“Well, I’m assuming you would like it. I like it, so I hope you would. It’s called In The Mood For Love. It’s a movie from Hong Kong so it’s, like, not in English, but I bet you might like it. And if I’m talking too much or you want me to leave, don’t be afraid to kick me,” Michael said. He was absolutely hallucinating, but it seemed like Alex’s blank face was a little closer to a smile than it was a frown and wasn’t that just beautiful? “So it’s about this woman and her husband who live right next door to another couple, right, and the woman finds out her husband is cheating on her and then the man next door finds out his wife is cheating on him. Then they find out their spouses are cheating together! It’s batshit.”

Michael spent the next ten minutes explaining the plot to the movie with no expectation for Alex to jump in, just to inform. At some point, Alex began to look up at him. Not in the eye or anything, but his face was turned towards him like he didn’t want to stop. Michael didn’t even know how to respond, so he started to drag the plot of the movie out even longer.

Eventually, though, students began to filter in and he had to stop. It was a damn shame. He was feeling awfully confident.

“Anyway, so, I don’t do it any justice. The cinematography is literally gorgeous. If you ever wanted to, like, come over and watch it, you could,” Michael offered, his body involuntarily moving forward whenever Alex looked down again, “Or-or not. I could just explain movies to you every day. I watch a lot of movies.”

Alex didn’t say anything, not like Michael was expecting him too. To take away any pressure he might’ve given, he stood up.

“You have my number. And you can still kick me whenever,” Michael promised before going to his own seat.

The class went by with him stealing glances over at Alex the entire time. It was hard not to look at him. Alex was fucking gorgeous. He had dark hair and dark eyes and wore all black which was lovely on its own, but he had the face of a fucking god which was unfair. Michael remembered being totally starstruck the first time he saw him back in middle school. It only got harder to deny with each year.

Michael sat with them at lunch again and Alex wasn’t nearly as slumped over. Win.

The locker slammed shut.

Michael jumped and looked over to the culprit, eyes wide as Maria just glared at him. He didn’t know why, but that glare made him feel guilty for everything wrong he’d ever done in his entire life. He wasn’t sure exactly what those wrong things were and yet, here he was, about to apologize for them.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but if this is some kind of joke to fuck with Alex’s feelings, you need to stop right now,” she said sharply. Michael blinked a few times in confusion, but soon understood what she was saying. He hadn’t done much. Alex hadn’t even texted him or anything, but they always got to Calc early and Michael would talk to him about whatever was on his mind and Alex would listen like he was sitting at a live podcast. Michael thought it was unbearably cute. So cute, he even loaned him his Big Eden DVD.

“I’m not trying to hurt his feelings. I like talking to him,” Michael insisted. Maria pursed his lips.

“What’s the endgame here?” she asked, “Alex is… Alex is my best friend and I’m not going to let him get hurt by some fucking guy who is forcing himself into his life who just wants to mess with him. He told me you gave him your number, what’s that about?”

Michael held his breath, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say. He didn’t want to say too much and he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Whatever he told her, she was going to relay back to Alex. He knew that.

“I like Alex,” Michael admitted, “I might not know him that well, but… I really want to.”

Maria narrowed her eyes at him, “You like like him?”

“Yeah.”

Maria stayed still for a while, eyeing him and judging him. He let her.

“What do you get out of this, huh? He’s not going to speak to you,” Maria said. Michael shrugged.

“Yeah, but he can text me and I can get to know him that way,” Michael said, “Look, I know you’re just being protective. I get that. But… I like him.”

Maria swallowed slowly, furrowing her eyebrows. “Why do I feel like you have an ulterior motive?”

“Because you don’t want him to get hurt,” Michael filled in, “But I won’t hurt him.”

“If you do, I will not hesitate to push you off a cliff,” she said. Michael smiled at her as sincerely as possible despite the fact that she was concerningly serious.

“Deal.”

She stared at him for a few seconds longer before pulling a Sharpie from her backpack and grabbing his arm. He watched as she scribbled a number on his skin.

“He isn’t going to text you first,” she said. Maria gave him one last look before turning and walking away. Michael could hear her badass theme music in his head.

Score.

Michael: Hey :)

“The smiley face was too much, I shouldn’t have added a smiley face.”

“I genuinely don’t think the smiley face has anything to do with it.”

Michael gave an appalled look to Isobel who sat on his couch while he paced back and forth. Max was passed out on the recliner, balled up around a pillow as if to make himself smaller. He’d clearly spent the night reading and was now spending his Saturday sleeping. They were now politely whispering around him about Michael’s crisis.

“So you’re saying he just doesn’t want to talk to me at all?” Michael asked.

“I’m saying that maybe he’s pacing right now in front of Maria and Liz to help him figure out how to respond,” she said, scooting forward, “I mean, you texted him at, what, 10:30 last night? He might’ve been asleep and then by the time he woke up it was hours after you sent it and now he’s not sure if he should respond.”

“Okay, that’s… valid,” Michael sighed, falling onto the couch beside her, “I’m just so nervous that he isn’t into me. Like, I’m really putting myself out there, Izzy.”

“I know,” she said, draping her arm around him, “But I’m sure he does. Or, if he doesn’t, he doesn’t seem the type to be a dick.”

“Okay, but he’s got anxiety, probably, right? So, like, what if he feels bad that I’m into him and feels obligated to go out with me because of that and we have a relationship that’s just him feeling bad for being hetero.”

“Michael, you are actually overreacting now.”

Before Michael could say anything else, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. They both froze.

Then, like the dumbass he was, Max stirred and reached for it out of habit and put it to his ear. They both snorted.

“Hello?” he asked groggily despite the fact that it wasn’t a call and it wasn’t his phone.

“Give me that, go back to sleep,” Michael said, snatching it from his hand. Max simply hummed in response and cuddled back into his pillow. “We need to ban him from night reading if he can’t do it responsibly.”

Isobel sighed, “I keep telling Mom that, but she won’t.”

They both gave quiet laughs which effectively took away some of the stress off this very stressful situation. Michael leaned back into the couch and into Isobel’s side as he opened the text. There it was in its shiny glory.

“Hey,” Isobel read aloud.

“Oh, God, he thinks I’m annoying,” Michael whined, dropping it.

“What? Where did you get that from? He just said hey!”

“That’s what you say when you don’t want to talk.”

“Michael, you said hey.”

“With a smiley face! Which means: hey, smiley face, I want to talk to you, smiley face, no pressure though, smiley face.”

“...you need to stop watching whatever the hell you’re watching that is making you think like this.”

“Izzy.”

“Give me your phone,” she said, holding her hand out. Michael almost said no, but she had that no-nonsense look on her face and he learned quite young to never disobey that look. He handed over the phone.

He watched her with a horrific level of nerves as she typed away for a few seconds. When she handed it out, he looked with wide eyes to see what she sent.

Michael: this is now where I request your opinion on Big Eden

“What if he thinks that’s mean and pressuring?” Michael asked, worry in his tone. Isobel rolled her eyes.

“He won’t. He’s got all the time in the world to answer, no stress.”

Michael sighed and tried not to look too completely terrified whenever Alex didn’t immediately respond. After about ten minutes, Isobel took the phone away and put it on the coffee table so he wouldn’t stare at it until he got a response.

“Stop looking so defeated, it’s gonna be fine,” she assured him, “I don’t even get why you’re so bad at this. You talk to girls all the time.”

“But this feels important.”

“Why?” she asked.

Michael tried to come up with a valid answer as to why it felt like a life or death situation with every encounter, but couldn’t. There was just something about this guy that felt real even if they’d never actually had a two-way conversation. Him simply sitting and listening to Michael speak in a classroom felt like a bigger, more intimate moment that getting felt up in the back of a truck in an abandoned Walgreens parking lot. He just… didn’t know how to say that out loud without sounding insane.

“I don’t know,” Michael said instead. He said it just as his phone buzzed. Michael nearly fell off the couch to grab it.

He opened it to a long, essay-worthy response from Alex. He smiled so wide it hurt.

“Oh boy, you’re a goner,” Isobel sighed.

Michael melted into the couch to respond.

Michael: i saw this movie today

Alex: do you ever go a day where you DON’T see a movie?

Michael: hardly

Michael: it’s called Camp

Alex: what’s it about?

Michael: basically it’s a theatre camp and it was kinda long and kinda boring and the “main romance” was about cheating and the guy was a TOOOL but there were subplots of a boy discovering his sexuality via a gorgeous dream scene and acceptance and a girl who poisoned another girl to steal her role in a show

Alex: how’d you find it?

Michael: googled robin de jesus

Alex: who is that

Michael: WHHHHYYYY ARE YOU SO UNCULTURED

Michael: sorry i’m passionate about my broadway babies

Alex: lol I know :) maybe I should watch it

Michael: you should

Michael: ALEX I LISTENED TO A MUSICAL AND I THINK YOU’LL LOVE IT

Michael: I MEAN IT WAS SUPER HECKIN SAD BUT

Alex: lol what is it?

Michael: Bare: A Pop Opera

Michael: important distinction from bare the musical which is similar but I have FEELINGS about some of the changes that i refuse to talk about

Alex: lol i believe you

Alex: go on. plot please :)

Michael: OKAY so basically it’s about two bros in love at catholic school and one is super in the closet and the other one is too scared because, you know, god. And the closet bro flirts with girls and stuff even though he’s sleeping with the guy because he wants to appear straight and basically he hooks up with a girl and then regrets it and tries to go back to his boy but the boy turns him down and the girl is pregnant and everyone finds out he’s gay and he overdoses and dies on stage and the moral is that the catholic church made him so ashamed that he’d rather be dead than deal with the weight of it all

Michael: or something like that i only listened to the soundtrack and read the lacking wikipedia page on it

Michael: the songs are fantastic

Alex: OH WAIT i looked it up, i’ve heard one of the songs before. All Grown Up is some powerful shit

Michael: ISN’T IT

Alex: okay I’m listening to the first song now. Give me roughly three hours and i’ll give you a detailed response on my opinions

Michael: no no give me live reactions. I’m a slut for live reactions.

Alex: okay. The harmonies? On motherfucking point

Michael: knew it

Alex: MICHAEL I READ THIS BOOK

Michael: oh you did? I didn’t know you could do that

Alex: shut up

Alex: it’s called Aristotle and Dante Discover The Secrets Of the Universe

Michael: by fall out boy?

Alex: alright that’s it, no more commentary

Michael: NOOOOOO come back i’m sorry

Alex: okay okay okay adlkjfal;skjdf it’s about two boys and they meet when they’re kinda young and they grow up together and one is so firmly into the other and they spend all the time together and they’re so fiercely protective of each other, but one moves away and they write letters and the one who moved away discovers he’s gay while he’s away and basically he comes back and he’s firmly out and they go back to spending all the time together and ari is like “i’m straight” and dante is like “okaly dokaly” and it takes a hate crime (which is lame) but ari’s parents have to sit him down and they’re like “okay. I hate to break this to you. But you love him” and ari is like WHAT? NO and shit and then he has his epiphany and they make out in the back of a truck under the stars in the desert

Michael: i want to make out with someone under the stars in the back of my truck in the desert

Alex: YOU’RE MISSING THE POINT

Alex: basically it’s not explicitly stated, but ari is 100% bi (i think) and i think you’ll relate to him and michael you need to read this book i’ll give it to you tomorrow

Michael: okay I’ll read it. Maybe not as fast as you, but I will

Michael: if you make out with me under the stars in the back of my truck in the desert?

Alex: bribery is a fool’s game, Guerin

Michael: heterosexuality is for the weak and i’m hercules

Alex: herakles*

Michael: fuck off

Alex: what’d you do that made you feel very not heterosexual

Michael: woke up this morning

Michael: nah, but a lady my mom knows who always tells me to date her daughter told me it again today and i looked her in the eye and said “i’d rather your son” and i think i almost gave her a stroke

Alex: my hero

Michael: coffee after school?

Alex: you wanna hang out after school?

Michael: i want coffee and i want to talk about aristotle and dante and i talk faster than i text

Michael: the crashdown? They make the best coffee after morning time

Alex: okay :)

Michael: i know that it’s 2 in the morning and you’re asleep but i just watched brokeback mountain again and i’m ugly crying in bed and i felt the need to tell you how free i feel. I’m here, i’m queer, and if someone has a problem with it, they might actually get charged with a hate crime for once

Michael: not that i want to get beat up to test it

Michael: i’m just free. I’m free.

Alex: ❤️️

“And that’s when I accidentally found myself on Mars and had a candy bar crafted by Abe Lincoln who resides there now.”

“Fun.”

Ingrid sighed, “Michael Guerin, if you do not put that damn phone down I’m taking it away.”

That one, Michael heard. He put it down on the table gently, Alex’s message still displayed on the screen. It wasn’t his fault he’d spent the last two weeks glued to it, it was 100% Alex’s. He was just far too much fun to talk to.

“Okay, tell me about the girl,” Ingrid insisted. He blinked innocently at her. She gave him that motherly look and put her fork down. “Or boy. I know you, Michael, you don’t ever spend that much time on your phone and smiling at it like it just told you how lovely your eyes are.”

Michael felt his face turn red and he focused on his vegan pad thai instead of his mother. That was much easier to face.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh, yeah right. C’mon, spill,” she urged, childishly kicking his shin under the table. Michael smiled helplessly.

“It’s just some guy,” he sighed, “The guy I told you about before, the one who doesn’t speak.”

“That explains the texting,” she said.

“Mom, he’s so funny. And smart. And sweet. And, Mom,” he said, looking up to her with the most serious look on the planet, “He hates Casablanca as much as I do.”

Ingrid gasped, her hand going to her chest, ��Oh my god, he’s perfect.”

“I know!” Michael exclaimed, leaning back in his seat, “I just… don’t know if he’s into me or even into guys.”

“Baby, just ask,” she said. Michael scoffed.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not? He knows you’re bisexual, right? Well, just ask him out,” she said because apparently, it was that easy. It was never that easy. He simply shrugged.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Mhm,” she hummed. He still gave a small smile as he went back to his meal.

The next day, he very quickly brought this conversation to Isobel whenever he saw her in the parking lot of school. Max lurked beside them, yet out of the conversation because his book was far more important than Michael’s boy problems.

“I think you should do it,” Isobel said. Michael looked at her like she’d lost it. “You’ve been talking to him for, what, two months?”

“Three.”

“Jesus, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Rejection.”

“Well, that’s not that bad.”

“Maybe not to you!”

Isobel rolled her eyes. While the idea of that weight on his shoulders was actually terrifying, Michael was eager to get some alone time with Alex. Even if it didn’t end the way Isobel thought. Plus, a movie felt like a good way to start the hanging out process. You know, hanging out that wasn’t coffee with Liz lurking around. So, he told him.

It took a while, but, just as the bell rang, he got his response.

Alex: sounds fun :)

Michael nearly screamed.

Michael tapped anxiously against the steering wheel as he waited outside the Crashdown. This was where they agreed to meet and then Michael would drop him off here and he would walk home. Michael had asked why he couldn’t just bring him home, but Alex insisted this would be easier.

That whole thing became a lot harder to think about whenever Alex came out of the Crashdown looking like a fucking God.

He was still wearing his typical black jeans, but he was now wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt instead of a jacket and fucking eyeliner. Michael forgot how to breathe. It was infinitely harder to play it cool when Alex got into the passenger seat. Michael gave his steering wheel one final slap.

“Hey,” Michael said, turning to him. Alex gave him a little nod as he faced him too. Michael learned early on that when Alex made an effort to face him, it was on par with any other person greeting him with a hug. Alex just started a few steps more conservative than everyone else. He wondered when he would know when it was okay to actually touch him. “Okay, let’s go.”

The drive to the drive-in was short and filled with classic rock music that Alex seemed to enjoy. Whenever Michael would look over, Alex would have his head rested against the window and his eyes closed. That felt like the biggest bucket of trust if there ever was one.

Michael knew Alex very well. They texted all day and night about everything, but obviously, things were a little different in person. It helped to know that the person Alex was in text was inside the more contained version of him that everyone saw. Michael had a million questions he never asked about why he couldn’t just let him in in person if he could let him in over the phone.

They parked in the middle of the area because that had the best view of the screen. He figured they’d be watching in silence for the whole thing, so he wanted to have a good view. Not that that was a bad thing.

“Hey, just so you know, this movie is trash,” Michael said after a moment. Alex blinked at him with those big eyes and Michael smiled helplessly at them. “You ever seen it?” Alex shook his head slowly. “Well, I’d give you a run down, but we’re about to watch it.” Alex pulled out his phone and typed quickly before showing it to him.

Tell me anyway

Michael smiled even wider and got to telling him the plot of the movie. Even when the movie started, they ignored it in favor of Michael’s shitty retelling. They kept leaning closer as Michael spoke softer, trying not to be total assholes to people around them by being too loud.

“So, then they get the knock off Cyberman to babysit for them,” Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows in confusion which was the most expressive face Michael had ever seen him make. He smiled wider. “Okay, I should’ve specified that he doesn’t always look like a Cyberman.”

Then Alex smiled. For the first time, Alex smiled. And Michael couldn’t help himself.

“You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen,” he said. Alex immediately looked down and Michael mentally cursed himself. “Sorry, I just… You do.”

Michael tried not to back down from his statement. Every other time he’d stood his ground and tried, it worked for him. He was going to make this work for him. Or, he was going to accept rejection with the fact that he tried.

However, the longer Alex stayed completely still, the harder it was to not offer to immediately take him home.

“I like you, Alex,” Michael said instead, hoping that total reassurance would be helpful, “I’ve liked you since I first saw you in middle school. I’ve been trying to find ways to speak to you since then and when I realized I was running out of time, I tried. Now I’m trying again. I like you. I want… I want this to be a date. I don’t care that you can’t speak. The way we communicate now works great, so don’t feel like… don’t feel like this is bad.”

Alex stayed still for even longer. Michael started counting in his head, making a deal with himself that if he got to 100, he would just take Alex home.

He got to 97 by the time Alex looked up.

“Hi,” Michael whispered. The corner of Alex’s lips twitched up just a bit, but it was enough. Michael leaned in more. “Do you like me too?” Alex gulped visibly but nodded. Michael relaxed a bit more. “Can I kiss you?” Alex’s eyes widened just a little, but he gave another tiny nod.

Michael sucked in a breath and tried not to get himself too worked up. This was only what he’d been dreaming about since he was 13 and decided boys were hot and Alex Manes was god tier. He kept it just like 13-year-old him would have, a two-second peck without any touching other than their lips.

“Was that okay?” Michael asked softly. Alex opened his eyes, those long lashes tickling Michael’s cheek. They stared very close for a second. And then that Alex that was saved for texting conversation came out.

Alex grabbed Michael’s jaw with one hand and put the other one on the back of his head, pulling him impossibly close and kissing him senseless. It was hard to figure out where exactly Alex had learned to do that or if it was just fucking amazing instinct, but Michael very quickly decided that wasn’t important. He let Alex take the lead, let Alex make each move first. It was unexpectedly hot.

Alex was the one who grabbed Michael’s hair with purpose. It was Alex who opened his mouth and pushed his tongue past Michael’s lips. It was Alex who moved closer. Michael wanted to ask where all this confidence came from, but he was terrified that it would stop. He never wanted it to stop.

When it eventually had to pause, Alex took a deep breath with his lips still hovering over Michael’s. It was the most unfair thing that had ever happened in his life.

“So, I take it you’re not straight?” Michael asked. Again, Alex smiled. Again, Alex kissed him.

The movie didn’t last long enough in Michael’s opinion. He eventually had to tear himself away because Alex had a curfew and an alarm to remind him of that curfew. They eventually separated completely and Michael got a gorgeous, gorgeous view of Alex’s flushed face and swollen lips.

“I want to stare at you forever," Michael said. Alex simply rolled his eyes and pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose, effectively hiding his red cheeks and his gorgeous smile. Michael leaned over and kissed the side of his head for extra measure.

On the drive back to the Crashdown, they sat closer. Somewhere along the way, Michael grabbed his hand. Alex didn't pull away. Neither of them was quite sure what this meant, but it was something. It was only shitty whenever they got to the Crashdown and Alex's father was standing there with his arms crossed.

Alex snatched his hand away and looked like a deer caught in headlights. Michael didn't know what to say. His father was clearly not happy and Alex seemed to be all too aware of it. Michael looked over at him.

"Are you okay?' Michael asked. Alex's eyes flickered towards him once more before quickly climbing out of the truck.

Michael watched as his father grabbed him by the arm and basically dragged him to their Jeep. He waited until the door was closed to start screaming at Alex as if that would prevent anyone else from hearing it. Michael heard all too perfectly the sea of ‘what the hell is wrong with you’ and ‘answer me’ and saw Alex lean his head against the window and close his eyes. This time, the closed eyes were to shield the blows of insults.

Michael watched with a heavy heart as Alex and his dad drove away.

When he looked forward, he saw Liz’s face in the window. She mouthed an exaggerated ‘I’m sorry’ to him. Michael just sighed and put his head against the steering wheel.

That’s one way to end an otherwise fantastic date.

Michael: i didn’t get you in trouble, did i?

Alex: nothing is your fault, i promise

Alex: my dad just kinda sucks.

Michael: but you still have your phone, so it’s not the worst?

Alex: I had fun with you tonight.

Michael: me too :)

Michael: can i ask you a question?

Michael: you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to

Alex: ok

Michael: i heard your dad yelling at you… do you speak to anyone at all ever?

Alex: liz and maria sometimes when we’re completely alone

Michael: ah

Alex: it’s a comfort thing

Michael: you’re not comfortable with me?

Michael: (sorry if that sounds mean i’m just curious)

Alex: i AM comfortable with you, but it’s more complicated than that. My brain doesn’t really listen to me. No matter how much i want to, it’s not gonna happen unless my brain decides that theres 100% no threat

Alex: i’m sorry i can’t speak to you

Michael: no worries, i think it works just fine like this :)

Alex: ❤️️

Michael: you wanna talk about your dad?

Alex: literally why would i ever want to do that

Michael: because talking about your feelings is important and shit

Alex: oh how comforting you sound

Michael: :)

Alex: my dad is a dick, what more can i say?

Michael: does he know that if he didn’t yell at you, you might one day become comfortable enough to speak to him?

Alex: he doesn’t actually care

Alex: he assumes that whatever is wrong with me is my mother’s fault and he’s still pissed at her for leaving him

Michael: why didn’t she take you with her?

Alex: idk

Michael: i’m sorry

Alex: stop apologizing

Michael: i willllllll

Alex: youuuu kissed me

Michael: i did and you kissed me back

Michael: so… what does that make us?

Alex: people who made out at a drive-in

Michael: that’s it?

Alex: is there something else?

Michael: Boyfriends.

Alex: ooh becoming official over the phone? Romantic

Michael: BE THAT WAY THEN

Alex: Wait noooooo come back

Alex: i want a boyfriend

Michael: I can go ask Max, i think he could be into it

Alex: :(

Michael: fiiiiine i’ll go ask myself, i’m sure i’ll be into it

Michael: update: i am, we’re boyfriends now

Alex: :)

“Hey, Mom, can someone give consent if they don’t speak?”

“What the hell did you do?”

Michael rolled his eyes as he sat at the barstool. Ingrid had turned away from the pan on the stove to look at him a no-nonsense look on her face. He just flashed a big smile.

“Nothing, that’s why I asked,” he said. She let out a heavy breath and placed her hand over her heart.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she told him. He twisted in the barstool a little.

He and Alex had been successfully going out for nearly a month now. Graduation was coming up, he was set to go to UNM, Alex had a job lined up with one of his mom’s friends in that area, and life was just really fucking good. He was proud of himself for even getting that far in anything. To think he was just a fucking problem child for so long.

“Well, it is a serious question,” Michael said, “Like, can someone give consent if they don’t speak?”

“It’s very adult of you to come to me about this,” she told him, moving the pot off the stove to come closer. He smiled and shrugged.

Really it was because he didn’t know what else to do. That wasn’t exactly something he could Google, he couldn’t ask any of Alex’s friends, and he was scared to even talk to Alex about it in fear that he might take it the wrong way. That left his mom.

The last few times they’d hung out, it’d gotten pretty hot and heavy and Michael had to stop. It was really fucking hard, but he did it and Alex never seemed to have any offended or thankful opinion on the matter. He was still just flirtatious as fuck over the phone and shy in person until their eyes were closed.

“Does Alex know that you’re asking me about this?” his mom asked. Michael pursed his lips and shook his head.

“No, but I felt it was better to be prepared.”

“Well, listen, it’s hard for me to give advice in this situation because I’m biased. You’re my baby and my heart wants me to tell you absolutely not and give you a chastity belt,” she said, reaching over to pat his hair. He rolled his eyes again. “But you really just have to ask him. His lack of speaking doesn’t make him any less of an 18-year-old. He’s a very smart boy from what I understand, he can make that decision on his own.”

“Okay, but it’s a comfort thing, so, if he still can’t speak to me, then it means he’s not 100% comfortable with me, right? So what if he feels like I’m pressuring him? Because I don’t want to do that,” Michael explained. Ingrid smiled and sighed, her shoulders dropping. She looked proud of him. That was a lot to take.

“If you’re unsure, then just wait. There’s no rush,” she promised him.

Michael nodded. No rush.

“Cheers!”

“That better not be alcohol!”

“Papi, it’s not!”

The small group in the back of the Crashdown laughed at the father and daughter interaction, all except Liz who rolled her eyes at the accusation.

“He served us, you’d think he’d know it’s not alcohol,” she grumbled, earning another round of chuckling.

Michael looked over to Alex and gave him an extra clink to his glass. They were now officially no longer high school students. Three hours before, they’d walked the stage and got their diplomas (all except Alex who opted out of walking like the lucky bastard he was). It was just too surreal.

“I gotta hand it to you,” Maria said, tipping her head in Michael’s direction. Liz and Max were wrapped up in a conversation and Isobel had Alex wrapped up in a vine compilation, leaving them basically alone in their exchange. “I really thought I was gonna kick your ass.”

“I told you I had no intention to hurt him,” Michael insisted. Maria smiled and took a sip of her drink.

“I’m glad you didn’t. He’s happy,” Maria said. Alex looked up at that moment with eyes that said ‘I can hear you’. They both just stuck their tongues out at him. It reminded Michael of when Alex had insisted that he and Maria were far too similar to tolerate in the same room at the same time.

Still, Michael threw his arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Aw, and to think this is all my doing,” Isobel cooed.

“Your doing? I’m the one who gave Michael his number,” Maria pointed out.

“Excuse you both, I’m the one who pined for years and eventually grew a pair, so my doing,” Michael insisted. Alex turned his face into Michael’s shoulder before a smile became apparent. Michael squeezed his hand beneath the table.

Eventually, it got late and they could only party on a Wednesday night in the back of Liz’s dad’s restaurant for so long. Liz and Maria went upstairs, Max and Isobel went to drive home, and that left Michael and Alex. Technically, Alex was supposed to walk home. Although he was 18, his dad was still a tyrant and he needed to stay in his good graces until they could finally go to Albuquerque and get away from him.

However, Michael had one last idea.

“Hey,” he said, “Wanna go make out in the desert in the bed of my truck finally?”

Alex grinned so wide it all but relit the sun.

Michael had driven out to the desert many times in his life, so he knew exactly where to go. He wouldn’t lie, he was feeling a bit giddy about the whole thing. Well, about life in general. He was finally going to make something of himself and he had a fucking high school sweetheart like a total loser and he couldn’t feel better about it.

“I’m so fucking excited, Alex,” he vented as they drove, Alex tucked into his side, “Life’s gonna be great up there. We’re gonna thrive.” Alex pressed a kiss to his jaw. “And, on break and shit, if you wanna come back down and stay with me, Mom won’t care. She loves you. Or if you wanna go to school ever, you could. You can do anything, seriously, this is gonna be great. God, we’re fucking adults!”

Michael pulled to a stop only a few yards away from the turquoise mines. This was his favorite fucking place. No one ever came out there which meant there was no chance of anyone catching him and Alex. And, if they did, who cared?

They both climbed into the back of the truck and basically laughed their way into each other’s embrace. Their lips met for the first time that day and Michael pulled him close, smiling helplessly. This was the beginning of their whole lives.

“I’m so happy I talked to you,” Michael whispered somewhere in between kisses. Alex was beneath him with his hands cradling his face and his legs making room for him to lay between. “I’m so happy I met you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head, pulling him down for a kiss. He knew Alex didn’t actually believe that, but it didn’t stop him from telling him. He’d spilled basically his entire life story to Alex and Alex had spilled his. They both knew everything about each other. It was easily the most legit relationship Michael had ever been in. No wonder it was the one he was going to college with.

As the night dragged on, things began to feel a little more real. The kisses got slower and it was harder to think about anything other than Alex Manes and the way it felt to kiss him. Alex continuously pulled them closer, squeezing Michael’s hips with thighs and letting his hands roam. It wasn’t until his hands started to mess with the belt holding up Michael’s admittedly very expensive slacks that he pulled away.

��Do you wanna?” he asked softly, opening his eyes to see Alex’s head nod. Instead, Alex’s lips parted.

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little hoarse and very quiet. His eyes didn’t open, happily staying in his bubble of this moment. Michael didn’t pop it.

He kissed him again and got to removing his shirt, trying not to show how giddy he was at hearing that voice and knowing he’d been granted access to something so fucking sacred. He wondered if this was a one-time thing or if they’d shattered into a new level of comfort. Whichever it may be, it made Michael even more excited for their future.

This really was everything.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #my fic

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atombombbagel · 5 years ago

Note

Sole goes AWOL and no one seems to know where they went. How would the companions (+ Maxson?) react to accidentally finding out that they have become the fierce Overboss of Nuka World? The angstier, the better!

(ANGST AHEAD) Hey. Thought I’d post because why not… Enjoy. Also I only did romanced companions because It’s been forever and I need some time to get back into things because I have the motivation of a dead fish :)

(I’ll try and add the other companions later)

Hours? Days? Months? Who knows. Nobody does apparently, they checked, double checked, triple checked. They had asked everybody who is anybody and nope, they hadn’t the foggiest idea, not the slightest clue. Sole was gone, and they couldn’t help but think the worst…

Cait: “I’m not using anymore ye asshole.” Cait snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d been wandering about, walking off last nights hangover (the hangover she’d acquired by trying to drown out her negative thoughts about Sole’s whereabouts) when she’d been approached by an old friend. No. Not a friend, an old dealer she knew.

"Well… you see, Cait, I told the boss I had the perfect person to do deals out here in the good old commonwealth and you wouldn’t want to let an old buddy down now would you?“ The man in worn slacks snickered. "I know you, Cait, you can’t refuse a good deal… a good high.” The raider twirled a psycho in his hand.

"Did ye even hear me? I said I aint usin’ and I definitely aint dealin’ for a waste a space like you. Now ye better piss off before I knock yer feckin’ teeth out.“ Cait seethed, the arrogance of her former dealer making her blood boil.

"Is this her?” A voice from the distance said. Cait’s eyes flicked to the person making their way out from behind a decrepit shack. She raised her eyebrows as she focused on the face in front of her. A face she knew all too well.

"Sole?“ She said in surprise, "What the hell are ye doin’ messing around with this eejit?” She raised her voice. Sole stepped forward, knocking the dealer in the chest with their fist.

"This is who you have for me? You numbskull, get out of my sight.“ Sole shoved the man aside. "Cait.” Sole turned to their former companion. “Long time no see.” They smiled at the red head.

“You. Yer the Overboss? Tha one terrorising the Commonwealth with yer gang of thugs?“ Cait pulled a psycho from her pocket. "Ye left me this. Do ye have any idea what ye could of undone?” Cait threw the drug to Sole’s feet. “I can’t believe ye’d do this. I thought… Nevermind what I thought.” Cait sighed. “Stay away from me."

"I got pulled into it. I didn’t know you were the person-”

"Save yer bullshit for someone who cares. After what ye saw me going through? Ye’d what? Inflict that hell on someone else by selling the damn stuff? Yer an ass. I want nothing to do with ye.“

"It’s only business, I never meant…” Sole tried to convince her but Cait had already turned away. The feeling in her heart worse than any withdrawal she’d ever felt.

Curie: Curie followed the beeping on her radio to the location she was pretty sure was being transmitted. The distress call. The person who needed medical assistance should be right here. But… they weren’t.

“Fresh meat!"

All of a sudden, Curie’s vision went black, she tried to scream but she couldn’t, her voice was trapped in the back of her throat. She was terrified. She passed out she was sure of it, only her vision came back to her as a burlap sack was lifted from her head.

"Looky here Boss. It works.” A raider said (referring to the trap he had set up and planned despite everyone being sceptical about it). Curie’s eyes met her long lost Companions. Soles. She sighed with relief.

“You’re alive!” She beamed, “I heard a distress call, coming right from here.” Curie explained. “I’ve been trying to help people all over in your absence until I found you of course. Where is the person who needs help?” Curie asked, observing the area carefully. She’d seen similar camps back in the Commonwealth but nothing of this capacity. There must have been hundreds of raiders. She grimaced at the sight of a pile of stacked dead bodies, naked, left there to rot, while a group of raiders rummaged through their clothes and belongings. It didn’t seem like Sole to like this sort of brutality, but maybe she didn’t know Sole as well as she thought she did.

“There is no distress call.” Sole said plainly, crossing their arms over their chest. She nodded for one of the raiders to come over to them. “You don’t harm her. You and whats-his face,” Sole paused, “You know… Mason’s right hand. You both, take her home and make sure she gets there safe. Not a single hair on her head gets touched, understand?” Sole’s eyes pierced into the raiders. He was clearly scared of them. He nodded.

“No distress call? But I heard-"

"It was a trap Curie. You need to go home. It isn’t safe here. I care about you too much to let this corrupt you,” Sole interrupted. “I know you don’t understand but trust me. They need you back home, you need to forget about me."

Danse: "BOSS!” A Disciple, that was clearly out of the breath from the vigorous running she’d been doing called to Sole. The Overboss of Nuka-World turned to the raider. “We have someone you’d definitely want to see. The bounty on this one’s head. We’ve caught the best of the best!” She was giddy, excited. Sole creased their eyebrows as they followed her.

“Who is it?” Sole asked, observing the person in front of them, their eyes covered by an old rag. Sole didn’t see the point in covering their eyes if they were to die when handed to their pursuer anyway.

“Its the Paladin. The one the Brotherhood have been looking for. The one that got away. We’ll be rich!” Sole’s mouth dropped into a frown. It couldn’t be him… could it?

“Why did you bring him here?” The paladin’s ears perked up when he caught the sound of his capturers voice. That voice that he loved so much, that had pulled him back from the brink at the darkest of times. The voice of the person he never thought he’d see again.

“Sole?” He said in to blind darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew, he knew deep down it was them. Where they finally back to hand him over to Maxson? Finally seeing him as what he truly was.

“Remove the blindfold you fool.” Sole said, their eyes meeting Danse’s when the cloth was finally removed.

“I thought you were dead.” He said after a brief moment of silence. He took a minute to look around at his surroundings. Of all places, he never expected Sole to be here, in this mess. “What are you doing? You’re smarter than this.

"Watch your mouth,” A raider snarled, holding a knife to Danse’s neck.

“Let him go.” Sole demanded, their eyes still fixed on Danse’s. “I had to get away from the Brotherhood, I found myself here. Its the same, only here I can make my own rules."

"These people are murderers Sole.” Danse met the other raiders eyes, he watched their scowling faces. They were ready to pounce but they couldn’t, Sole would never let them.

“So are the Brotherhood.”

“It’s different. They are doing the best for humanity, you’re killing mankind for financial gain. It’s despicable.” Sole smiled briefly. He always was honest. The most honest man they’d ever met.

“We won’t be turning him in, or killing him.” Sole announced. “Danse, find Preston. He’s in Sanctuary, he’ll let you stay there, for as long as you want."

"Come with me?” Danse asked, “You don'y belond here.” He wanted Sole to jump into his arms, wrap their arms around his neck and say yes but they stood there expressionless.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. Find Preston, he’ll help.” Sole swallowed the lump in their throat as they turned. They couldn’t face him as they left, it was too painful.

Hancock: The red coat wearing devil took a small step backwards, making sure that there was distance between him and the raider, who stood a few meters in front of him.

“You stick those nails in your armour to make you appear tuff huh big guy?” Hancock mocked, a smirk etched across his disfigured face.

“You’d better pay up Mister Mayor, or we’ll have to call the boss down here and well, they don’t appreciate it when someone don’t pay for the goods. You understand me?” A raider with bright green hair, stood next to her nail-armour friend. She snarled, making sure the light from the sun reflected on her recently sharpened blade. “Or perhaps we’ll get the pack on you.” She laughed before howling, causing the raider next to her to follow suit. Hancock raised a hairless brow.

“Aw come on now, we can handle this like men… or women… wait…” Nevertheless, Hancock stepped forward, his concealed knife dug deep into the green-haired woman’s gut. He pulled his knife out and thrust it back in, making sure to twist it. The woman groaned in pain. “Don’t even think about it,” Hancock hissed to the other one, making his threat quite clear to him.

“I think that is quite enough.” Hancock was approached by another raider in Brahmin road leathers, only it wasn’t a raider. It was Sole. The same Sole that had been missing for months, the same one he’d sent search parties out for, the same Sole he thought was dead.

“Well well… aint this a surprise.” Hancock cleaned his knife using a handkerchief he kept in the inside pocked of his red jacket. “Hanging with the big boys now huh? Or are you the big old bad boss of Nuka World?” He spat. “I didn’t think you were the muderin’ type.”

“I am the boss here Hancock and there is no murdering, but if I get double crossed well that is different.” Sole’s statement made him chuckle with disgust.

“You.” Hancock pointed his knife at Sole, “Are not who I thought you were.” He put his hand inside his pocket again, this time pulling out a bag of caps. “Here’s your fucking money.” He threw it to the ground, right at Sole’s feet. “Now we are square."

"It doesn’t have to be like this. You could join us, join me."

"You really think I want to become a petty murdering thug? You think I was to kill innocent people after stealing their shit? All that they have so you can what? Sit on your throne and boss ME around?” He chuckled. “I’ve got a town to run and you aint fucking welcome.” He shook his head. “I really thought you were different Sunshine.”

MacCready: “There must be some here somewhere.” MacCready muttered to himself as he rummaged around in various chests and bags of an old locker room he’d stumbled across. It was only till he heard a click of a gun he stood still.

"What do you think you’re doing in this part of town?“ A rough voice said, making MacCready turn around to face him. His eyes studied the man in front of him. Tall, lanky, not very built, hair was slicked back and around his waste was a belt made of… was that bullets? He looked back up, catching the man’s steady gaze.

"The boss aint gonna like this, but if you empty your pockets, they don’t have to know you was trespassing on their property.” The man flashed his teeth with a menacing smile.

"I don’t think so.“ MacCready replied standing his ground, ready to aim his rifle. He knew he’d be quicker, but the image of his infant son flashed in his mind. Duncan. He couldn’t do anything rash. "Take me to your boss.” He decided, gripping the leather strap across his shoulder. The raider shrugged before motioning MacCready to follow him.

The room was dark-ish, lit up by a single lamp, shaped like a cola bottle. Only it had a face, which MacCready thought was weird and a little creepy.

"This is the guy that was snooping around in the locker room boss. A thief if you ask me. We should throw him to the dogs.“ He snickered, shoving MacCready forward. It was only then did MacCready catch a glimpse of the person sitting in the chair besides the cola shaped lamp. A smile stretched across their lips.

"If it isn’t the greatest sniper in all the Commonwealth.” MacCready recognised their voice instantly.

"Sole?“ He questioned, making out their features dimly lit by the shit lamp. "So this is what you’ve decided to do while you’ve been gone?” MacCready looked around, heads on spikes jutted out of the ground like some barbaric warning. Junk littered the ground, and in the distance he could discern two of Sole’s raiders roughing each other up. “I’m not one to judge, I’ve made numerous questionable choices too. To each his own.” He shrugged, clutching the leather strap holding his prized sniper, closer to his chest. He knew Sole, he knew they would never hurt him, yet he couldn’t help but feel unsettled by what they had become. He chuckled. “I ran with the gunners, they aint much different. Just be careful."

"Thanks Mac.” Sole said with a brief smile. “You don’t want to stay for a while?” They asked, cocking their head to the side. MacCready shook his head, rather quickly.

"I should get back to my son. Stay safe out here Sole.“ And with that MacCready left, not wanting to be around Sole when they lead a bloodthirsty pack of savage raiders. It wasn’t safe for him or his son.

Piper: The story was going to be so good! She was finally hot on the trail of this mysterious boss, the one who was ordering the takeover of the Commonwealth. Once this was all around Diamond City she’d be sold out of newspapers for sure. She’d finally be able to buy her sister that premium box of snack cakes, the ones only Deacon could get on his way back from Washington. A hefty price but her sister deserved it.

Piper hid against the side of a dilapidated building, crouching down as she tried to keep to the shadows. He held her pen tightly in her grip.

"Where’s the money you stole from me?” A voice snarled, the person behind it kicking a man in the stomach, before holding their gun up and cocking back the trigger. “I won’t hesitate, you know that, don’t you? And after you’re dead we know where your family lives.” The voice threatened. The man stumbled over his own words.

“Please don’t hurt them! I swear I don’t know where the money is! I didn’t take it!"

"Wrong answer.” The loud echo of the gunshot rang through Pipers ears, causing her to gasp without her even knowing it came from her mouth. The person she’d been spying on, the ‘Boss’, saw her. She gulped trying to hurry to her feet but she was grabbed by the bosses minions. They made their way over to where Piper was standing, stopping when they saw the familiar cap and coat of their old reporter friend.

“What are you doing here?” The Boss asked, their voice softer than it had been when shouting at the now dead s.o.b.

“Blue? Is that you?” Piper couldn’t believe her eyes. It couldn’t be them. She’d been assured that they were dead. She’d been told they’d been a victim of the Boss. The other reason she was chasing the story. “I thought you were dead.” She choked out, nearly sobbing at this point. Sole shook their head. Piper snapped back to her senses. “Please tell me you’re not the Overboss. Please tell me what I saw wasn’t what I saw.” Sole’s eyes met the ground. “What did you get yourself into?"

"Its me, I’m the Overboss and what you saw… You can’t tell anyone about it. Do you understand me, Piper?” Sole noticed the notepad in Piper’s hand. “Give it to me.” Piper shook her head.

“You don’t scare me, Blue."

"No? I know where Nat is. I know what she looks like. She’s make a great protege. Or maybe I’ll just kill her.” Sole shrugged. “Your choice.” Piper’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“You wouldn’t. She’s a kid."

"Do you really want to find out?” Sole threatened and Piper looked down at the ground. She tossed her notepad to the ground.

“I can’t believe I ever trusted you. You’re a monster."

"No. I’m just the Overboss. And you better remember that."

Preston: Preston had been guarding the parameter to Sanctuary when he was grabbed, by heavily armed and armoured Raiders. He fought so hard to get them off but he couldn’t call for help. When he had managed to bite one of the raiders hands he had been knocked out with the butt of their pipe rifle.

Preston slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he let his eyes adjust to the light shining in them. He tried to lift his arm only to find that he had been tied to a chair by tightly wrapped leather belts. He groaned as the pain in his head finally hit him. Where was he?

"This is the guy we got. The one who’s in charge of that big place we were telling you about.” A smug raider, clearly proud of himself, said with a beaming smile, nudging their bosses arm. He winced as he was slapped across the face.

“Are you stupid?” Preston’s head snapped up as he heard that all familiar voice. He could not believe his eyes. What was Sole doing here? What was Sole doing surrounded by a bunch of disgusting vile people. “I said stay away from Sanctuary hills you idiot. Untie him. NOW.” Sole snapped, making the guy scurry forwards and quickly untie Preston’s bonds. “I’m so sorry about this.” Sole apologised as Preston stood up.

“How could you side with them?” Preston spat. Sole noticed the look of revulsion on his face. “You know what they are like. You know what they do to people and you’re here siding with them? After all we have built you’d throw it all away to be their ruler?” He looked down, shaking his head.

“Preston. I told them to stay away from the Minutemen. I would never hurt our people.”

“MY people. You turned your back on us the minute you joined forces with these… things.” He sighed, “I’ll never forgive you for this."

"Preston…” He pushed past Sole, tugging his arm away when Sole tried to reach for him. “Preston!” Sole called after him, but he was gone and he wouldn’t be turning back.

#Fallout 4 #Fallout 4 companions #Fallout 4 Companions react #Fallout 4 companion reactions #fallout 4 cait #fo4 cait #fallout 4 curie #fo4 curie #fallout 4 danse #fo4 danse #paladin danse #fallout 4 hancock #fo4 hancock #fallout 4 piper wright #fo4 piper #fallout 4 maccready #fo4 maccready #fo4 preston garvey #fallout 4 preston garvey

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doomedandstoned · 5 years ago

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Meet Corey G. Lewis, The Dude Who’s Bringing Grunge Back

~By Jamie LaRose~

Art by Ben House

With the new album sinking into our consciousness, 'Deathspiration' (2018) by The Misery Men invokes the necessity to dig a bit deeper into the creative processes behind its craft. I had the chance to follow-up with Corey G. Lewis, mastermind of the music, and take a glimpse at the band's evolution as portrayed by sound. Deathspiration was recorded and mixed by Steve Jones of Ancient Warlocks at Big Sound Productions in Seattle, and features Jones as drummer.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

The intro track is reminiscent of reflections, leading into a blasting presence of a second track. This album seems to tell a diverse story, can you explain some of the inspiration behind Deathspiration?

Well the intro track is sort of an homage to Neil Young’s Dead Man soundtrack. I’m also really into Dylan Carlson and EARTH. Before I discovered Earth, I’d always described The Misery Men as, Western Doom Noir. That’s evolved into me describing it as Stone Drone. Nevertheless it’s reminiscent of the space between the notes, and the chaos that occurs. The song Sughrue is about C.W. Sughrue, a character from the book Last Good Kiss by the late great James Crumley, also an old friend. Sughrue is a Private Dick that goes off looking for missing woman. “Like a train” barreling down the highway, from Montana to Mexico.

Oh, most importantly, the inspiration behind Deathspiration is the evolution of me as a human. The cathartic shedding of skin. "Harnessing the Darkness" and riding the waves. Sometimes I feel we might be desperate to reach death, to know the truths, while we attempt to be inspired to live life, as we pass through all the adversity, and perspiring blood, sweat, and tears in these moments of our existence.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

Do you have any secrets of sound to share? What types of techniques present The Misery Men persona?

My secret sound really is simplicity, and the ghost of Leo Fender haunting my amp. I run a 70’s Music Man 112 RP 65-watt amp with an EV bass speaker, through a 2x12 THD Cab, with a phaser pedal, and a Little Big Muff. A wall of fuzz, that is grizzly, meaty, and punchy. I don’t really try to be the tone guy, but I get more compliments about my tone than anything else.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

"Night Creeps In" presents itself to me as the vertex of the Deathspiration story, it feels ritualistic and defining. Are there any rituals you perform while in the writing process?

This song in particular was written after a girl I was dating for only a week, told me she was going to kill herself. It was pretty heavy, and at the time she texted me, I was walking past Lone Fir Cemetery and wrote her, “sometimes the night creeps in, looking wretched weak and thin. Smiling with its meathook grin.” It was a very heavy experience. When I wrote this song about seven years ago, I was just really getting deep into Dax Riggs of Acid Bath. He’s definitely had a big impact on my music writing since moving to Portland.

Deathspiration by The Misery Men

Aside from the release of Deathspiration, are there any other exciting current happenings with The Misery Men?

We played at Dante’s not long ago with Chris Newman Deluxe Combo. Chris is quintessential to the Portland rock scene and to the whole Pacific Northwest in general. He is famous for his band Napalm Beach, who released their first album in 1981. Without Napalm Beach, The Wipers, and Dead Moon, well Seattle “Grunge” just wouldn’t sound the same. We might all still be playing Hair Metal!

Officially, Deathspiration has been out since last December, but this week it will launch on all digital platforms worldwide. This fall around September or October, expect a new two-part album to drop digitally, recorded by Witch Mountain and The Skull’s own Rob Wrong! It’ll feature 3-4 different local bass players and a couple local drummers, all guitars and vocals have been recorded, and bass/drums will be done by July/August. So far, we've got interest from bass players Billy Anderson (yes, the famous Sleep producer), Matt Howl (Mammoth Salmon), Wayne Boucher (Troll), and Jaden Mcginiss (Legendary Peavy owner, Doorman, Boudicca). All of this will be recorded in Rob’s basement, the same basement Elliott Smith practiced in.

I decided that my second album needed to be done sooner than later, after the 1st was seven years in the making. Deathspiration was recorded in Seattle with Ancient Warlocks drummer Steve Jones, I’m very happy with the way it turned out, it was analog with no filters, no frills, just my raw intensity. The second though I feel needs to be done here in Portland, it is after all according to Greg Sage, DoomTown. Unlike the first one, it’ll be all digital, but still raw and real, capturing my live performance sound. I’m also likely going to have a variety of drummers on the album playing different songs, perhaps even some legendary Portland drummers!

This week I begin practicing with a new drummer for two upcoming gigs. On Saturday, July 6th, we'll be playing with Chronoclops and Stereo Creeps from Seattle at Misdemeanor Meadows in Portland. It's a free show. Then on Friday, July 26th, The Misery Men will be rocking Gil's Speakeasy for a $5 show that includes The Sleer and Breath. I'm Working on gigs for August on through the Fall.

Do you have any memories of childhood that are notably similar to your current state of mind? What type of things about your childhood self were spot-on about who you become? What was your favorite toy?

I knew I’d always wanted to be a Rock n’ Roller or an actor in films. Like pretty much as long as I could remember. I dressed up almost every Halloween as a Punk Rocker in the '80s. My first concert of grand scale was Poison and Warrant 1989, in Bozeman, Montana -- I was in 5th grade. That show changed my life. I also dug rocks in my grandparent’s backyard, but not for pleasure -- my grandfather took advantage of child labor! I’m a rocker through and through. I think I’ve followed my dreams pretty spot on.

Favorite toys were probably GI Joe’s, Star Wars, or my SEGA Genesis. I also built wood swords from fence posts and painted them with finger nail polish as a kid. Think I may have accidentally got high!

What was the moment when you could feel music has become a part of your life? How has writing music helped you, and those around you?

Well, ever since I could remember music was a part of my life. Listening to my mom’s old tapes and records as a kid really impacted me. I was always surrounded by music, my grandparents owned a Rock n’ Roll bar I’m the ‘60s, '70s, and '80s, called The Wrangler Bar in Livingston, MT. It’s featured in the film Rancho Deluxe about some wild young cattle rustlers, starring Jeff Bridges, and Sam Waterson. There’s a scene with Jimmy Buffett playing "Livingston Saturday Night" while Jeff and Sam play Pong. I’ve played that same machine as a kid! There was always a jukebox, I loved playing Jefferson Starship's "We Built This City," Joan Jett's "I Love Rock n’ Roll," Ozzy's "Bark at the Moon," Pat Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" and "Hell Is For Children," and Billy Squire's "The Stroke"!

In 7th and 8th grades, I really was into The Doors, The Beatles, Hendrix, and I was in a English class for kids who couldn’t really focus on reading Lord Of The Rings. In this class our teacher would have us listen to our favorite music at home, then with the feelings we got, write our own poetry. I often listened to Hendrix, especially Axis: Bold As Love and Electric LadyLand, so there were plenty of references to fantasy in my early lyrics. This really helped me learn to become a lyricist, and take an interest in poetry. Most importantly, it gave me an outlet. Around the same time, I got heavy into Henry Rollins. When I saw the video for "Liar" with Hank all painted red, I thought, “I wanna be that guy!” I bought Get in The Van and it became my Bible. All the while I was into Nirvana, Alice In Chains, and Soundgarden.

Is there a way to describe when you feel most productive or most relaxed? How is your state of mind best explained while writing music?

I’m most productive when I feel inspired. Or when the Sun is out and I’m well rested. I like the Sun, except in extreme heat, then I wanna murder the Sun. I was born at night, so I’m a Moon child. I definitely get more inspired and productive writing at night. A few years ago when I was reworking an old song that turned out to be Harness The Darkness, I took a wee bit of LSD or mushrooms -- I’m more of a microdose kind of guy -- found myself going down some deep wormholes to connect a lot of dots that would go on to make up the six verses of the song, that I eventually dropped into four, because it was the most exhausting song to play! I’m a Beatnik kid. I got into the Beat style of writing early on. So, letting the stream of consciousness come flowing out seems to work well for me. I can keep a pretty decent rhyme or off rhyme too.

What is the most peculiar thing that anyone has ever said to you?

Hmmmm. Can you keep a secret? From experience, always tell them no, because sometimes people will lay some heavy shit on you, and maybe you didn’t want to be that person to carry their burden. I’m not a Priest, or a therapist, sometimes it’s fine to listen to friends, but there’s some things you can’t unhear or unsee!

Do you have a message for the universe?

I call it the "Megaverse," as coined by quantum physicist Leonard Susskind -- but my message is to be real, be compassionate, be loving, be forgiving, be understanding, be courageous, be ever evolving, and in the words of E.T.: “Beeeeee Gooooooddd.”

The Great Misery Men Giveaway!

Don't miss your chance to add the gritty album Deathspiration to your library! Grab one of the Bandcamp codes below (first come, first served) and redeem it right here.

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#D&S Interviews #The Misery Men #Corey G. Lewis #Portland #Oregon #Doom #Grunge #Metal #Jamie LaRose #Stoner Art #Ben House #Week of Wonders #Doomed & Stoned

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nebula-starlight · 7 years ago

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Corrupt (Part 6 - Naris)

To say that Narssia felt entirely like herself the next morning when she woke was a lie. What was normal after months of internal torment and being stuck with an insane dead spirit hellbent on vengeance? She was, however, met with a splitting headache when she first opened her eyes, finding herself gently propped up against a padded wall with a soft blanket covering her. There was no one in the room when she woke but she soon heard Mark’s voice pleasantly coming from downstairs.

She originally wasn’t going to move, groaning as she lifted a hand to shield her sensitive eyes from the sunlight coming in from the two large windows off to the right of her. Her stomach, however, had other plans as it grumbled the second she smelled the aroma of food cooking. He must have known she was waking up.

Reluctantly getting off the floor, she hissed as she bent to retrieve the fallen blanket and her fingers brushed lightly against her chest. Confused, she lifted her shirt up to see an angry red scar that she didn’t remember having before. Injuries weren’t something she normally worried herself over but this one was new. What exactly had happened last night after she excused herself during the midst of talking with Mark?

She paled, tracing the wound mindlessly as broken fragments of the evening before pierced through her subconscious. Void had taken her over with surprising ease and gone after Mark. And, yet, she obviously hadn’t been successful… Narssia shook her head, letting the fabric fall back over her newest mark of possession. Why was it that she had ended up with a psychopath literally stuck in her head? What evil had she done in life to deserve such a fate?

Trying to ignore what she had seen, Narssia quickly retrieved the blanket and folded it neatly before going downstairs. She felt calmer, able to breathe easier now than she had in months. No longer was her mind abuzz with vicious remarks from the parasite she’d come to know as Void. She just needed to get used to having the quietness she had longed for back… How strange it was after so long. Normally the spirit would already be off screeching in her ear about something. Maybe that’s why she started to sleep in later and later. Hoping she could somehow drown out the static-ladened snarls.

“No,” she softly huffed, trying to pull herself away from such depressing thoughts.

She did wonder if Void had an accent prior to her corruption but, then again, she never got much out of the spirit that wasn’t an angry commentary on whatever she was currently doing. Perhaps it was for the best that she not know.

As she entered the kitchen, she spotted Mark standing over by the stove. Narssia hesitated, internally debating on whether to speak or not but before she could decide, he noticed her.

“You’re up earlier than I thought. Well, come on in then. I’m just about done with this last batch.”

Curiosity drove her to walk over to the island bar in the middle of the floor where he had already stacked several fluffy golden pancakes on two plates. Taking one of them, she looked around anxiously, trying not to stare at the knife rack next to him that had one missing. Void had taken it the night before when she tried to kill him. It was strange that she hadn’t seen the blade upstairs though.

“I’m sorry for last night… for whatever she did. I- I can’t control her. Void does what she wants and I’m just pulled along for the ride.”

Mark looked up from the frying pan, expression softening in sympathy. “You did nothing wrong. I’m fine and you’re here now so don’t worry about it.”

She offered him a smile, still unsure of what she was to do now. It was so strange to have nothing but her own thoughts in her head. Liberating perhaps but also unnerving not knowing when Void could come back. If she knew anything about the spirit, she fully expected it would be agony for her the very minute she returned.

Taking a seat, she picked at her food mindlessly with a fork, unable to get rid of the image of the scar. Void had left that, hadn’t she? A warning that she wasn’t gone despite the peaceful silence Narssia currently enjoyed. Would she ever be free of her unwelcome passenger? It had taken months, after all, for the insane glitch to worm her way into her head. Small things at first, mostly second guessing herself as she helped to heal a wounded dragon, but eventually she heard the sickening voice with its raspy hissing. She hated to think about it but reaching out to Geer had helped, at least in the beginning. The more she fought back though, the worse she felt as her scales became brittle and her performance as a healer was brought into question. Soon enough she was released from her work, quickly becoming isolated in her small house as even the tiniest amount of light sent her into a panic. The letters she received from her dear friend had given her the courage to meet with him but she fell silent on their way back to her home shortly after seeing the shadow that lurked behind him with its crimson eyes. Even Void had taken notice, hissing in her ear that there wasn’t much time left before she joined him and became nothing more than a hollow vessel.

A hand suddenly came down on her shoulder and she immediately reacted, jerking away from the touch before spinning around as she sank into a low crouch and bared her teeth. The sound she was met with, however, threatened to tear away the bravery she’d acted upon as a low ringing filled the air. Her gaze lifted in timid curiosity, finding the color fading from the air as a being similar to Mark but all together different stood in his place with a hand still outstretched.

“My, my, aren’t you jumpy this morning?” He commented as he glanced back at her out of the corner of his eye. Moments later, he turned slightly to better see her, hand retreating behind his back as the faint shimmer of twin red and blue auras briefly spread outwards from his form.

She shrank back, fear creeping in as the scenario reminded her far too much of meeting the spirit inhabiting Geer for the first time. He’d just barely gotten her inside after Void had relinquished her initial control when he stopped, lifting a suddenly trembling paw to his chest before turning away. Concerned, she’d tried to ask what was wrong despite how exhausted she was but he growled that he was fine - only it wasn’t his voice. The vocals were lower, bringing in a distinct rumble that Geer himself never had.

Perhaps it was because she wasn’t thinking straight after the trauma she’d endured but she lashed out at him, lunging forward as her claws tore across his snout. He’d said nothing, only parrying her blows once she started using her tail as well. Soon she was panting for breath, weaving slightly between far weaker attacks. The beast had known of her exhausted state, she realized seconds before he sidestepped another attempt at a lunge and wrapped his tail gently around her neck.

Narssia blinked, breaking away from the terror-filled memory and coming back to her senses as she backed up against the doorframe. This darker version of Mark hadn’t moved particularly much since his initial appearance, only watching her retreat with the tiniest smirk before she accidentally made eye contact.

“You certainly do have a lot of demons inside that pretty little head, don’t you?” He muttered softly, moving toward her with deliberately slow steps as his shoes clicked against the hardwood floor. “A lifetime of mistakes and yet the biggest one, in your eyes at least, was accepting that parasitic glitch.”

Dark paused for a moment, stopping in front of her as she timidly glanced up. Every instinct in her, dragon or otherwise, was screaming for her to run but she was paralyzed by her fright. Instead, she stared into the black irises that studied her curiously.

“I’ll admit that I see now why she was so quick to defend you. For her petite size, she certainly has a temper - unlike what I’ve seen from you. Such a shame really, I thought you’d prove more useful to me in discovering her secrets. You are her vessel, are you not?”

Something struck a chord within her at the remark and she growled, staggering to her feet even though he was a good foot taller than her. Using the frame behind her to keep her balance, she finally broke her silence since his arrival.

“Where is she? Don’t play dumb either, demon. I can read enough of her memories to know she met you last night. It doesn’t take much to put the rest of the pieces together after I wake up feeling empty and yet decidedly free of her poisonous influence.”

Dark chuckled, the sound a low rumble that threw her panic back into overdrive. She wasn’t crazy… It was just that everything about her current situation reminded her so much of Nether. Even his voice echoed with the same influence - a trait the spirit had used to craft his illusions no doubt.

“She’s fine, for now. However I need you to pass along a message on my behalf.” Narssia’s gaze narrowed in suspicion, shifting uneasily on her feet. “I would naturally do it myself but given how Mark ignores my presence I have little choice but to entrust you. Do tell him that there’s another demon loose now, if you’d be so kind.”

“A-Another?” She hadn’t meant to stutter but the thought of another being similar to Nether or even this darker Mark was terrifying to consider.

Dark nodded in affirmation, lifting her chin up with the lightest of touches as his other hand dug into the wooden frame. Despite the slight cracking she heard behind her, there was no fear in her eyes as she waited with baited breath to see what he would say next.

“Relax, he isn’t like myself. More unpredictable, somewhat spastic at times… Truthfully he reminds me of your other half.”

She hissed in a mixture of surprise and pain, hand going to her chest as the scar burned. What horror could come about by those two meeting? Having one unstable psychopath was enough but to know now that a second had appeared…

“Of- Of course.” She hesitated, biting her lower lip as she let go of the split doorframe behind her and tried to ignore the throbbing gash. “Please, don’t…”

Dark tilted his head, barely hearing the low whimper but nonetheless determined to coax the reserved plea out of her. “Do speak up, child. I don’t particularly like to keep my prisoners waiting for too long.”

Narssia drew back, noticing the sudden reappearance of his aura as the constant ringing noise that had persisted during their encounter rose in volume. As much as she hated to ask, she had to know if Void was alright. Sure she might detest the corrupt spirit who took over her life but she had become a part of her during the months that followed.

“I asked you earlier where Void was and you didn’t answer me. Tell me where the darker half of my soul is!” Her hands shook, anger replacing any fear she might of had towards the demon. When he didn’t respond, she snarled, lifting up the front of her shirt to show the injury as the skin around it now appeared discolored and bruised. “I demand an explanation, demon. This isn’t a normal wound. Sure Void has thrown her injuries off on me before but this one in particular was meant for Mark. Hell, she even tried to kill him last night with a knife that now, surprisingly, I can’t find.”

The demon took a step back with a soft hum, collecting his hands behind him once more as he rolled his neck with an audible crack. “I’m certain it’s up there. She didn’t have a weapon when she arrived in my domain… Although I can assure you that you needn’t worry about her.”

“All this because she went after Mark? It seems excessive.” She muttered, letting her shirt flutter back down over the injury before advancing as Dark retreated a couple more steps.

“Only one deserves to hurt him and that, child, isn’t her. Now then, I’m afraid I must take my leave. Do inform Mark of what we discussed, won’t you?”

#darkiplier #markiplier #corrupt

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vcg73 · 7 years ago

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Hummel Holidays 2017: It’s a Date

Hummel Holidays Prompt #2: Baking

Rare Pair: Kurt and Elliott

~*~*~*~*~

“Oh m’Gaw! Dese’r amaving! Wemom?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and passed his friend the glass of cold milk he had been sipping from as he worked. Elliott had walked in and made a beeline for the array of fluffy golden cookies sitting on the cooling racks, promptly popping one into his mouth with no regard for the fact that it had come out of the oven only ten seconds earlier. He was currently attempting to chew the hot cookie without touching it to his tongue or the tender roof of his mouth, but still taste it and talk at the same time.

“Lemon, yes, and you might want to give this next batch a minute to cool before you try one,” Kurt advised, placing a second pan full of generously chocolate chipped dough balls into the oven.

Chugging the remainder of the milk down along with a second sample from the racks, Elliott licked his lips and grinned as he handed back the empty glass. “You didn’t tell me we were baking today.”

He snorted. “We, huh? I’m pretty sure baking involves more than just scarfing down the end result. And stop eating all my cookies! I’m making these for the homeless shelter.”

Elliott’s greedy fingers paused halfway to grabbing another, cheeks flushing a little. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Guess I should’ve figured that since One Three Hill is providing the entertainment for tonight’s party. Uh, well then, pass me an apron and point me toward the supplies. I’ll mix up a batch of snickerdoodles while you pour us some more milk.”

Unable to resist the winsome smile that came along with this offer, Kurt nodded and rummaged through the plastic packing crate that held his glassware. Picking one with tiny flowers frosted into the glass that Rachel had picked up at a flea market, he opened the fridge to pour their drinks and said, “I didn’t even know you knew how to make snickerdoodles. I haven’t had those in years.”

“Oh, man, they’re the best! They’re my mom’s specialty. She taught me the recipe when I turned ten. Her family has lived in New England since, like, the Mayflower and this recipe has been handed down through generations. Today only a handful of people in the entire world know it!”

Kurt grinned, strongly suspecting that his leg was being pulled. “Well, then!” he said, handing over a fresh glass of milk. “Should I leave the room? Put on a blindfold? Pinch my nose shut so I don’t accidentally guess the secret ingredient?”

“I think I can trust you. But just to make sure…” Elliott’s face went solemn, but his eyes continued to sparkle with fun as he held up his right hand and offered Kurt’s recipe book with the other, waiting until Kurt obligingly placing his own right hand on the book and raised his left. “Kurt Hummel, do you solemnly swear upon pain of burnt cookies and fallen layer cakes never to divulge this secret to The Food Network, or any other for-profit entity?”

Struggling not to laugh, Kurt forced his features into an equally solemn set and nodded. “I so swear.”

“Great! Okay then, we’ll need a cup of butter, a cup of sugar, half a cup of brown sugar, two eggs, three cups of flour, baking soda, salt, cream of tartar, and cinnamon. I’ll also need a saucepan and a couple of mixing bowls.”

With a nod, Kurt gathered the requested items. Most were already on hand since he had been baking for the past hour. Since his favorite mixing bowl already had chocolate chip dough in it, he quickly washed up the bowl he’d used for the lemon cookies and dug out a large but slightly worn out spare one that he’d brought from Ohio. “Pan’s over the stove. What do you need it for?”

“Because that is the secret ingredient,” he explained, wriggling out of his leather jacket, leaving himself clad in an artistically ragged gray sleeveless t-shirt, and throwing on Kurt’s borrowed apron, which bore the words ‘Sit back and relax. You must be exhausted from watching me do everything!’ Glancing down at the words, he laughed. “Feeling a little passive aggressive, were we?”

Kurt blushed. “Just a little. It made me feel better, but the others didn’t even get the joke.”

“Figures,” he grunted. “Okay, so we start with the butter.”

He measured out a cup of butter and transferred it into the saucepan. While Kurt watched with interested eyes, he turned the stove on to medium heat and began whisking the butter with slow even strokes. He continued this patiently for three or four minutes until the butter was melted and slightly frothy, emitting a pleasant almost nutty aroma as it browned. Then he poured the butter into the larger bowl to cool and began mixing in the sugars, cream of tartar, and eggs together with it. In the second bowl, he blended his dry ingredients together, then gradually blended the two.

“You’re good at that,” Kurt commented, not even bothering to pretend that he was not admiring the play of strong muscles in Elliott’s exposed shoulder as he beat the dough together with firm pressure, preferring to stir the ingredients by hand rather than borrow Kurt’s hand mixer.

“Thanks.” Preening a little, he deliberately flexed his arm a little more. He and Kurt had never dated, but a little flirting between friends was always welcome. “Could you sprinkle some white sugar and cinnamon onto a sheet of waxed paper for me?”

Kurt nodded, pausing a moment to take his baking batch out of the oven as the timer dinged and transferring them to the racks. He quickly shifted the lemon cookies into a waiting tin lined with a paper towel, leaving the lid off to allow them to finish cooling. Once that was done, he quickly cleared a space and laid out the requested waxed paper, covering it with a small amount of cinnamon sugar. While this was done, Elliott had been molding the cookie dough into little walnut sized globes. He took each dough ball and rolled it through the sugar, setting the finished ones in a neat row until they could be baked, since Kurt still had another two pans of chocolate chip ready to go and there would be no more baking sheets available until one of them had hands free to wash the newly emptied one.

An hour later, the two-man baking team had finished their creations and sampled at least one of each variety of cookie, leaving dozens for the enjoyment of those attending tonight’s party.

“Dani will be so sorry she decided to meet us at the shelter instead of coming by early,” Kurt said, dipping a snicker-doodle in his milk, frowning a bit at the resultant spice decorating his drink, then shrugging and simply belting back what was left to wash down the last of the treat.

“I know, man. She missed out,” Elliott agreed, licking his lips happily.

Kurt held out a hand for Elliott’s empty glass, taking them to the sink to finishing washing up the last of the dishes. Kurt was a ‘clean as you go’ baker and his kitchen was far from the disaster area Elliott’s would have been had they done this project at his place. The application of a wet sponge and a little scrubbing, and the counters were also immaculately clean. Only the waiting tins of warm, neatly arranged cookies gave proof of the afternoon’s activity.

Elliott shook his head, admiring the almost military precision of his friend’s baking style. “You know, we should do this again,” he said. “Maybe cook something next time. I mean, I don’t really know how to make anything except stews and curries, but I’ll bet you could teach me. If you were okay with that.”

A big smile met this suggestion. Kurt looked like he’d just been given a wonderful present, clasping his hands and bouncing up on his toes with sudden excitement. “Of course! I have loads of cook books with recipes we could try. Some of them I’ve wanted to make for ages, but there never seemed much point in going to all that effort just for myself.”

“What about your roommates?”

He shrugged. “I’ve offered, but Santana isn’t a very adventurous eater, and I never know from week to week whether Rachel will be vegetarian, or vegan, or protein only, or all carbs. One week she decided out of the blue that she was going to do a liquid-only cleanse that she had read about in a magazine. It was supposed to last for a month, but three days into it, I was awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of her going to town on leftover Chinese food, three different kinds of chips, and my newly purchased pint of strawberry-cheesecake ice cream.”

Elliott laughed. He could picture that easily. For such a tiny woman, Rachel could really pack it away when she was in the mood. “Well, I’ll try anything once. Let’s make a pact to get together once a week and try out a brand new recipe. Something neither of us has tried before.”

Kurt beamed. “How about Fridays? Friday Night Dinner was a staple in my house growing up. We would always make the time to get together, no matter what, to have a sit down meal together on that night. I tried to bring the tradition back with my friends, but it only lasted a few meals before everyone started begging off for various reasons. Do you want to try it?”

Pleased that Kurt was willing to share a special tradition with him, perhaps in return for sharing his own family recipe, Elliott said, “It’s a date.”

Unexpectedly, Kurt blushed and turned away. “It’s getting late. Maybe we’d better get all these cookies packed up. I was planning to call for a ride instead of trying to get all these safely to the shelter on the subway.”

“Good idea,” he said, wondering at that sudden mood shift. Kurt’s reaction to his flippant use of the word ‘date’ had given him pause. He considered just letting it go, but . . . somehow he did not want to let it go. “Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

Elliott took a deep breath, hoping he was not about to make a mistake and cause the rest of the night to become horribly awkward. “I had a really good time today.”

“Me too,” he agreed with a smile.

“Uh, yeah, so I was thinking. That is . . . I mean, I always have a good time when I’m with you.”

Kurt’s expression softened, becoming almost wistful. “So do I.”

“Right, so . . . do you think it’s weird for best friends to . . .”

“To . . .” Kurt repeated, brows raising as he encouraged Elliott to finish the thought.

Elliott paused. It was now or never. He wasn’t seeing anyone, and Kurt had been single for a decent enough span of time not to seem like he was pouncing on a vulnerable heart. He had always told himself that Kurt wasn’t his type, but Elliott knew that the sheer number of times he had given himself that reminder pretty much proved it a false claim.

“Would you be willing to go out with me some time?” he blurted. “Not as friends. Or, I mean, of course we’re still friends, but . . . as more than friends?”

Kurt blinked, looking as though he was not quite sure he was hearing correctly. Then he smiled a little shyly and said, “You mean, you and me; like a, go out together, do something fun, kiss at the end of the evening . . . type of thing?”

Elliott grinned, liking the idea a lot now that he was hearing it out loud. “Exactly. Maybe not Friday, because I’m already having recipe night with my best bud on Friday, but how about Saturday?”

Laughing at his words, but clearly touched that Elliott did not want to chance losing their friendship by throwing dating into the mix, Kurt ducked his head and said, “That sounds great. You told me you’d been wanting to visit the Museum of Modern Art, right? Maybe we could go together. Or, is that a dumb idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he said, already picturing the two of them strolling slowly hand in hand through the halls of the great structure. “And maybe get some coffee and take a snowy walk through Central Park afterward.”

Kurt’s eyes shone at the mere mention of something so unabashedly romantic. “I’d love to.”

“Then we definitely have a date.” Wondering how he was going to contain his sudden giddy joy all evening, Elliott reached out and took Kurt’s hand, giving it a little squeeze before letting go and returning to the task of packing up the goodies for tonight’s party.

Stepping next to him, so that they stood side by side at the counter, Kurt accepted the cookie tin he was offered and settled it into a bag he’d brought out earlier for transporting. One by one, they packed the bag in this way, taking their time. They did not say anything more about their sudden change in status from best friends to possibly-more-than-friends, but the silence that stretched between them felt comfortable. Every so often, their arms would bump and they would exchange a smile that somehow felt both feel warmer and closer than it ever had before.

“I won’t do it until Saturday night,” Elliott remarked as the last tin was packed and the bag was closed up for travel. He pulled his jacket back on and accepted the warm blue scarf that Kurt held out with a scolding little cluck of his tongue, tucking it into place around his neck and down the front of his coat as he zipped the leather securely. He then lifted the strap of the cookie bag and settled it on his shoulder without asking, giving Kurt a chance to don his own coat and scarf and lock the door behind them.

“Do what?” Kurt asked as they started down the stairs together. His building had an elevator, but it was a risky proposition at the best of times.

Shifting the bag from one shoulder to the other, Elliott reached over and threaded his fingers through Kurt’s. “I was just thinking back there that I’d really like to kiss you, and that I felt kind of stupid for not realizing before today how much I wanted to do that.”

Kurt smiled and ducked his head. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that, and then I thought that I can’t do it. Not until Saturday night when I take you home. Or you take me home, whichever way it ends up. Because I’ve never been very good at the whole dating thing, but I want to do it right with you.”

He tipped his head, looking up at Elliott’s face with a fond smile. “That’s really sweet. I don’t really have a lot of experience at dating either. I have a weird habit of pining, then sort of falling in love without thinking it through, then moving in with people.”

Elliott laughed a little. “Sounds like we both have some catching up to do.”

“Agreed. So no kisses until Saturday,” Kurt said, still smiling as he checked his phone for the status of the car service driver he’d called. “How do you feel about hugging?”

“Friends hug,” he said, swinging an arm around Kurt’s shoulders in demonstration. “I could get into some serious post non-date hugging with you tonight. By Friday, we may be all the way up to snuggling.”

He laughed and squeezed Elliott’s waist. “I could be okay with that.”

Turning his head, Elliott looked down into Kurt’s eyes, noticing how pretty they looked in the light of the setting sun, shining blue with little flecks of green and gold. Before he could be tempted to break his own promise to himself, he planted his lips on Kurt’s hairline, pressing the soft skin fondly.

“Me too.”

THE END

#StarKurt #Just a little holiday fluff #Usually baking would imply Kadam but this popped into my head and felt like a better fit with Kelliot :)#HummelHolidays

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