#malex fic

[pastelwitchling]

Alex was so tired. Tired enough that he’d had to leave work early because Eduardo Ramos had taken one look at him and said he didn’t want to see him for the rest of the week. Tired enough that he fell into bed the second he’d changed into sweats and hadn’t gotten up again. Tired enough that he’d left Michael’s text message from earlier on read without a response.

Tired enough that when he’d seen his husband next, it was after waking up from an unplanned nap. A bad sign, as Alex had trouble sleeping on the best of days. Drifting off without noticing did not bode well for where his head was. Michael seemed to realize that as Alex’s groggy vision cleared and he noted the concerned furrow of Michael’s brow.

His head fell back onto the pillow with a heaving sigh. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like a man in love?” Michael hummed, brushing Alex’s bangs back. “Sorry, I can’t physically do that.”

Alex chuckled sleepily. “You’re such a dork.”

“I’ll take it,” he shrugged a shoulder, and started to lay down beside him. He still smelled like the afternoon sun and sand from the junkyard and the delicious rain smell that made Alex’s head spin.

“Don’t,” Alex said, “I’m getting up.”

“Why?” Michael said, putting a hand on his waist and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. “I’m tired too, we can take a nap together.”

Alex smiled, rubbing his eyes. “You’re not tired, you’re worried, and you shouldn’t be. I’ve just had one too many sleepless nights, that’s all.”

Michael pursed his lips, cupping Alex’s jaw and rubbing his thumb across the dark circle under Alex’s eye. Alex’s eyes fluttered to the warmth of his palm, and he turned into it, covering Michael’s hand with his own and breathing him in. He vaguely remembered Maria—what felt like forever ago now—making some joke about how Michael smelled, and he remembered wanting to snap then at her and feeling like he wasn’t allowed to. How did anyone not fall in love with Michael’s scent? He was the sky and earth and everything good about the world, he anchored Alex in a way nothing and no one else did.

“Can’t you just let me hold you anyway?” Michael murmured, his lips quirking with the faintest trace of amusement. “For my sake?”

Alex exhaled shakily, and crawled onto Michael’s lap, straddling him and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in the crook of Michael’s neck and closing his eyes.

Michael seemed to sense that he couldn’t or wouldn’t speak, and just rubbed the space between his shoulder blades. Alex melted deeper into him, cuddling as close as he could until Michael was all he was breathing in, Michael’s arms around him and body underneath and around him all he could feel.

“Tighter,” he whispered, not daring to raise his voice any more than that. He didn’t know how else to put his exhaustion and its source into words. “Hold me tighter, baby, please.”

Michael seemed to have been waiting for permission, his grip on Alex almost bruising as he squeezed him to his body. A weak moan rose up the back of Alex’s throat; for the first time all day, he thought he could feel his own heartbeat, his body turning heavy enough that he was sure he was going to fall asleep again despite having just woken up.

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his eyes burning for reasons he couldn’t even fathom. This wasn’t the first time he got like this, when he felt like this inexplicable grief lingered just below the surface, waiting for the chance to show itself, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. What bothered him though was the inability to talk about it, the inability to tell Michael just why he got like this. Sometimes, it felt like there was no reason for him to grieve, and sometimes it felt like there were too many reasons; too many to name, too many to think of, too many to bear.

“I hate this,” he groaned, brows pinched with the same headache that had been plaguing him all day. If he kept telling himself it was the sleepless nights, he might be able to endure it better. Except that here, in Michael’s arms, it was impossible to not feel safe enough to confess the mess in his head. “I hate . . . I hate this, Michael.”

“I know, baby,” Michael whispered against his ear, inhaling deeply as though he, too, couldn’t get enough of Alex’s scent. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay.”

Alex was so, so tired. He closed his eyes and buried himself in Michael’s warmth, shoving his hands under Michael’s shirt to feel the heat of his skin and get as close as possible. He felt Michael shudder against him, and squirmed until there was no space left between them.

“You want to sleep now?”

Alex considered it. “Can you get something to eat first? I’ll feel bad if you don’t have dinner.”

Michael chuckled. “Sure, I’ll get something to eat.” Alex made no move to get off of him, and Michael made no move to ease his hold. “You want to come with me?”

Alex swallowed. “If you really want me to.”

He could feel Michael’s smile against his ear, Michael’s hand running down his spine. “I really want you to. I can’t eat if you’re not there. Please, baby, for my sake?”

“You’re such a dork,” Alex murmured, pushing his face into Michael’s neck and snuggling into him. “Fine, since you really need me.”

Michael chuckled. “I really do, baby. I really, always do.”

[onward--upward]

all roads still lead back to you

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

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

07.28.24, 22:15. DON’T BE LATE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

continue on ao3

[bloggingbisexually]

For a hot minute, I did not think this fic was going to happen. And then it did.

Thanks a million to @rnmbigbang for all the cheerleading and flexibility with this year's event. Thanks a million to @dr-lizortecho for the absolutely beautiful artwork and the awesome cheerleading. And thanks a million to @im-the-punk-who for some fantastic last minute beta'ing.

Title: Writing Words I've Never Said

Summary: "I’m just a guy, screaming into the void for something, anything to prove I’m not all alone in the universe. But maybe that kind of magic doesn’t exist. Maybe it’s time to stop waiting." Without even consciously thinking of doing it, Michael opened a browser tab, navigated to Google, and set himself up with a burner email. He knew all too well what the bitter sting of loneliness felt like. He took a breath and typed. -- Michael Guerin is sure of three things. One, he can fix a car faster than anyone in town. Two, the engineering program at UNM would have been amazing. And three, he might be lonely, but he's not grumpy. And he definitely is not living in a romcom. Until he falls for his internet pen pal who keeps reminding him of the boy that got away nine years ago. Inspired by Love, Simon (2018).

[eusuntgratie]

tagged by @firstprincehornyramblings & @thighzp - thank you!!

chapter 2 of the sex club malexa fic is up if you are interested in such things.

do i have [redacted] wips already? why yes. but @bigassbowlingballhead has enabled me and so i have started a pretty woman malex au. i love this movie SO MUCH and michael is a PERFECT vivian and i am losing my mind about it.

have a long snippet (more under the cut) bc this visual has me too excited to have any chill at all.

tagging @rewritetheending @onthewaytosomewhere @onward--upward @lostcol @basil-bird

@stratocumulusperlucidus @taste-thewaste @stnichols + open tag for anyone else with words to share!

The car screams at him as he takes a turn and realizes he’s definitely not even in the vicinity of his hotel. He pulls over and takes a deep breath. Fuck. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, but it dies before he can even pull up maps. Movement in his rearview mirror catches his eye. There’s a tall man in thigh high black boots, tiny shorts, and not much else hugging a shorter dark-skinned girl who is dressed head to toe in shiny patent leather. The man wraps her up in a hug and squeezes tight before she shoves him toward Alex’s car. 

Against his better judgement, he lowers the passenger side window halfway when the man reaches his car and leans over. 

“Hey baby, you lookin’ for a good time?”

The man’s fried blond hair is swooped over his forehead, but his eyes are arresting. Alex tries not to look at his pretty pink lips, or think about how long it’s been since he got laid. 

“No, no, I just got turned around. Can you give me directions to Beverly Hills?”

The guy smiles and shifts a little. He’s wearing some kind of complicated harness in the same shiny patent leather as the woman instead of a shirt, and Alex gets momentarily distracted by his smooth chest and the way the harness frames his frankly obscene tits. 

The guy leans even lower, gripping his fingers on the top of the window, and looks around the car. 

“Sure. For twenty bucks.” 

Alex scoffs. “You can’t charge me for directions.” 

He smiles, wicked and tempting. 

“I can do anything I want, baby. I ain’t lost.” 

At that he stands and turns, resting his ass against the window. He’s wearing violently blue hot pants that leave very little to the imagination when his ass squishes against the glass of the window. 

Alex swallows. He’s got no idea where he is or how to get to his hotel and his stupid phone is dead. His secretary has been begging him to keep a portable charger in his bag. She’s bought him three. He’s lost two and he’s pretty sure the third is buried in his own car somewhere. 

“Okay, fine,” he says, and fishes out his wallet.

[bekkachaos]

45, 51 for buddie or malex

Have both! Same vibes anyway x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Out, now."

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

[dayscrazed]

Happy Big Bang everyone! To kick off the collection this year, here's my contribution!!! @rnmbigbang

Nora risked everything when she formed the resistance. Playing double-agent, she pretended to be close to The Dictator so she could bring him down. Keep your enemies close. In this AU, she flees Oasis with only Michael on her ship. Through flashbacks, we get a look at what it was like in The Dictator’s inner circle for Nora and other members of Ophiuchus.

And from Michael’s perspective, from the present, he finds out the hard way about the sacrifices his mother had to make when she fled her planet and hid secrets from The Dictator and Michael, himself. When the past comes back to haunt them all, Michael trusts the three aliens he meets and confides in his best friend/ crush, Alex, to discover his mother’s plans and help save an alien planet.

Inspired by The Shadowhunter Chronicles and Valentine’s Circle.

The most heartfelt and sincere thanks to @castalianspring for the absolutely incredible art in the form of lego scenes!!! Seeing scenes I created manifested in cute lego figures is a joy and an excitement beyond words. Please enjoy the astounding lego depictions in each Michael POV chapter!

[justlightlysedated]

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

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

But here! A sneak peek!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lostcol]

"You feeling good?"

Baby's first Roswell New Mexico fic! 👽🤠

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes

Additional Tags: Smut, alex has some feelings, Alex is in love, Dom/sub Undertones, Sub Michael Guerin, Dom Alex Manes, but that's not really part of it, it's just their dynamic here, more like, subby michael, dommy alex, Cock Warming, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, POV Alex Manes

Summary:

Michael shows up on Alex's doorstep horny and sad, and Alex makes him feel better.

[forthbeaming]

in spite of the uneven odds

• malex

• canon divergence, single father michael, getting together

[pastelwitchling]

Prompt: Alex is limping but for once it is not because of his leg or Alex Manes deserves having his back blown out by his husbad on the regular.

@joaneteporis

Can you do one where Michael notices Alex limping really bad and thinks his leg is acting up, but in reality he's limping because Michael made love to him really hard the night before and his ass hurts. He doesn't want to make Michael feel bad, so he pretends it's his leg. But eventually Michael finds out the truth. I'm a big fan of your stories. Love these two together. ❤

***

Alex was limping more than usual, and Michael had noticed.

He’d first picked up on it when Alex had come to visit him at the junkyard with lunch from the Crashdown. Michael had groaned at the sight and took Alex’s waist in his hands. “Damn, that looks good.” He shrugged a shoulder. “The food, too.”

Alex snickered, trying to cut off the giggles before they came, but it was too late. Michael’s smile widened as he nuzzled Alex’s jaw, drinking in the sound. No one else could do this, he thought with pride that flooded his chest. No one else could make Alex so carefree. The haunted soldier giggling? Yeah, only for Michael to do, sorry.

“You’re such a dork,” Alex said, his cheeks flushed as he brushed the stubble on Michael’s cheek with his free hand as he always liked to do. “I don’t like you working in this heat, come on, come sit with me. We can eat before I have to head back.”

Michael agreed, and his smile fell the second he saw Alex continue to limp. Sometimes when he got out of the car and he’d been driving for a while after a particularly tough few hours at work, his leg tended to ache, but Michael walked behind him, studying his husband. His limp was way more pronounced, and his brow pinched with very step like the pain was too much to ignore this time. In seconds, he was at Alex’s side, taking his free arm and holding most of his weight.

 Alex blinked. “What’re you doing?”

“Helping,” Michael grunted. “Your limp’s getting worse.”

“Oh,” Alex said, then to Michael’s surprise, he smiled and blushed. “I-I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” Michael said. “Here, sit down,” and he eased him onto the steps leading up to the trailer, and knelt between his legs, running his hands up and down Alex’s thighs.

Alex chuckled, setting down the bag and cupping Michael’s face. “Baby, I’m fine. Trust me.”

“Are they working you too hard over there again?” Michael growled. “Do I need to talk to Ramos?”

Alex scoffed. “I really have no desire whatsoever to see my husband throw my boss out a twelve-story window, Michael. It’d make going back to work very awkward.”

Michael rested his chin on Alex’s good knee. “I don’t want anyone taking advantage of you.”

“No one’s taking advantage of me.”

“It’s not your fault you’re a genius.”

Alex’s shoulders shook with his laughter. “Oh the burden.”

“They can’t put you on that damn elite floor if they’re just going to make you use the stairs!”

“They’re not making me use the stairs.”

“You’re a different circumstance, Alex, there’s nothing wrong with that!”

Alex looked like he was holding back another laugh. “I know.”

“If they’re pushing you even though they know about your leg—”

“Guerin, it’s not their fault I’m limping,” Alex said, his words coated in quiet laughter. “It’s yours.”

Michael frowned, standing straight on his knees. “What do you mean?” Had he made the ground tremble again without realizing it? Had his powers lashed out and he’d made Alex trip without noticing? Had his alien side come after Alex again and—Michael was sick at the thought—hurt his husband? But then, why would Alex say it with such joy in his eyes? He knew how much Michael hated himself whenever his powers lashed out, so was he just trying to ease the blow?

“Remember two nights ago?” Alex asked, and Michael’s brow furrowed. He shook his head, about to ask what he had done two nights ago that had . . .

Then he remembered. It had been a heated night, the two having been separated because of a three-day work trip Alex had taken. When he’d gotten back, Michael’s hunger and fear at having been away from him had overtaken him, and he’d had Alex naked and in bed minutes after picking him up at the bus station. He’d been a wild animal, the entire night dedicated to thrusting into Alex, burying himself inside his husband and refusing to move for hours. He still felt Alex’s nail marks in his back whenever he moved, a delicious sting that made him hard all over again. A pleased, happy smile was tugging at his lips at the memory when he realized . . .

His eyes widened, and Alex saw the moment the answer hit him, and he burst into the laughter which he’d been holding. Michael, meanwhile, was still gaping. “I-I . . . because I . . .”

“Got it right, baby,” Alex sighed, long and deep, and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to Michael’s forehead.

“It’s my fault,” he murmured, eyes wide and on Alex’s leg.

“Yeah,” Alex said, as though the pain pleased him. “Although, I don’t know if you would’ve had me limping if I’d still had my whole leg, but,” he shrugged, “I’m not complaining.”

Michael’s eyes darkened. He growled, “Oh, believe me, Private, I’d have you limping—what am I saying? I don’t want you to limp at all!”

Alex slid his hands into Michael’s curls and pulled him in, lowering his own head to slot their mouths together. “I love it,” he breathed against Michael’s lips the second they pulled back. “I love the feeling of my thighs burning, I love the way my whole body aches because you held onto me that tightly. Every time I sit down,” he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Michael’s ear, and whispered, “I can feel you, deep inside me.”

He leaned back again and Michael, dazed, followed him until Alex was sitting against the door and smiling innocently. “So don’t you dare feel bad. Now.” He held up the Crashdown bag. “You hungry?”

And he proceeded to unload the bag, laying out to-go box after box, while Michael was stuck staring at him, unable to remove his gaze.

“Are you trying to kill me now?”

Alex’s grin widened and he winked at Michael before holding a forkful of pasta up to his lips. “Open up. You’ll need your strength for the rest of the day.”

“Why?” Michael grumbled. “I’m not the one whose whole body hurts right now.”

“No,” he agreed, and his smile hinted at something dark. “But your back still stings, doesn’t it?”

Michael groaned. Alex really was trying to kill him, just by making his heart burst out of his chest. Something, in turn, that Michael knew only he could do. He supposed that made them even.

[pleasantfanartist]

From the fic A Better Man by @wle0416

[notsowrites]

where every wish comes true

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

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

[read it on AO3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the study is not an option?”

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

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

“Is that Rosa? I can call back-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I don’t think so.”

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

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

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

“The couch would be in the way.”

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

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

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

“Move your keyboard bench.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trying.”

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

“In the study.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So where’d you put it last year?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But not this year.”

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

“No, not this year.”

[dragonbinx]

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

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

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

"Pass."

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

[indarkstars]

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

[eusuntgratie]

thank you for the sunday tags @onthewaytosomewhere @rewritetheending & @onward--upward <3

here's a bit from a lost decade malex fic i'm working on.

He gets a week of leave before he deploys again and has a panic attack in a bathroom at the thought of going home. Usually he can push through them, but the panic clings to him all day, and in the middle of the night he finds himself clutching his phone, number dialed from muscle memory.  “Hello?” Alex can’t speak. Twin waves of comfort and fear rock through him. He breathes for a moment, soaking up the knowledge that Michael is alive out there, heart still beating on the same planet as he is, no matter how far apart they are. No matter how confident Alex is that he’ll never see him again.  He’ll just hang up. Michael will never have to know. But then there’s a quiet, “Alex?”

tagging my sunday folks back + @lostcol @taste-thewaste @bigassbowlingballhead @firenati0n @firstprincehornyramblings

+ open tag for anyone with words to share! tag me so i seeeee <3

[andrea-lyn]

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

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