#michael guerin imagines

[websterss]

CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT — MICHAEL GUERIN

REQUEST: Ohhhh- him and Liz flirting in his bunker??? Or just him starting his own jewlery business (ik this is big fandom hc) or him going back to school

WARNING(S): fluff

WORD COUNT: 1,559

PAIRING: Michael Guerin x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I went with the jewelry business

MASTERLIST

Michael had been hunched over the back work table when the doorbells chimed. He panicked after he heard you announce your arrival. He spared the clock off to the right of the store a glance.

9:30 p.m.

He had stayed at the store late again, and in return, you came to get him, to take him home.

“Fear not…cause I come in peace!” His heart fluttered as you giggled your way over to him. Michael felt relieved and amused as you greeted him with a lighthearted remark. His mind briefly pondered how you managed to sneak up on him without any warning. He watched you navigate through the store's new layout, his gaze following your every move, admiring the way you effortlessly glided through the space. You maneuvered your way through the two center shelvings he had installed. These held a few of his artistic pieces. Ones you had begged for him to display for others to see and hopefully take some interest in for their hand-crafted rings, necklaces, or even bracelets. The outer counters of the store were all transparent clear glass. The one you were walking straight towards, was made out of wood, the one he made his finest creations on.

Michael let out a soft scoff at your remark, trying to hide the unexpected burst of warmth that had blossomed in his chest upon hearing your bubbly laughter, causing a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips. He couldn’t help but be touched by your lightheartedness, feeling a slight tension leaving his shoulders as he observed you taking in the new layout of the shop.

And just like a moth drawn to the flame, he couldn’t help but follow your figure in the shop as you meandered about the glass counters, casting a sidelong glance your way.

“Do you now?” He mumbled as you grew closer to him.

As you approached the countertop, he discreetly moved the hidden piece further into the shelf with a flick of his wrist, ensuring it remained hidden from sight. The movement of the cloth that hid the piece caught your attention as it laid itself flat as you stood before him. Michael could see the gears shift behind your mischievous eyes. The fleeting glance past his shoulder.

“No.” He shook his head.

“I just wanna a peek.”

“It’s not-“

“Not finished–“ You rolled your eyes. “I promise I’ll give my honest review.”

“As honest and loyal as you are beautiful. This is the one time I beg of you, don’t go snooping.” A flicker of amusement crossed his face at your eagerness, and a hint of a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. He knew how persistent you could be, and he didn't doubt that given a chance, you would immediately look in the first place he told you not to look. But he found it endearing, he found everything about you endearing.

A soft scoff escaping his lips, he shook his head once more as he leaned forward onto the counter, his gaze fixated on you. “No…”

“You can’t tell me that and not expect me to snoop. No seriously what is it?” You push yourself over the surface, trying to peer over his shoulder.

“Y/n, I’m serious. No.” His laugh gives him away.

"Michael, I'm curious. Please." You copy his grin as you try to make a break for it around the counter. He watches as you push yourself over the countertop, your efforts amusing him to no end, his body relaxing as his laughs fill the space between you. His laughter only fuels your attempts even further.

He could see the spark of determination in your eyes, and he knew you wouldn’t give up so easily. With a swift motion, he swiftly stepped around the counter to intercept you, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He caught you by the waist, pulling you back to face him with a gentle but firm grip, holding you in place.

He tried to maintain the facade of seriousness, but the corners of his lips involuntarily curled upwards, betraying his genuine amusement. He watched in a mix of amusement and playful frustration as you persisted in trying to break free and sneak a peek at the hidden item.

His laughter filled the air, and as he held your wrist firmly to restrict your shoves, his eyes met yours with an almost mischievous twinkle.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." He muttered playfully, his gaze fixated on your features as he let go of your wrists, now pressing his hands against your hips, guiding you back against his work table, his touch gentle yet firm. His breath caught in his throat, he bit his bottom lip, his gaze flicking down at your lips for a brief moment before he slowly lifted his gaze back to your eyes. His heart pounded in his chest at the proximity of your body, and he could feel his palms grow slightly clammy as he fought the urge to give in to desire.

“And satisfaction brought it back…” Your chest rises and falls heavily. The way he takes away your breath has you ready to do anything for him.

“Sweetheart. You can’t look at it.” Michael peers into your eyes with a glint of fear, pleading eyes. “Not this time.”

“Is it for me?” You melt into his hold. Your gaze softens.

“That information is strictly confidential…” He smirks.

“So it is…” You curl your lip inward to fight off your smile. “Noted.”

As Michael held you close, he couldn't help but let out a warm chuckle. Your persistence and eagerness always managed to make his heart skip a beat, and even in this situation, he found himself secretly enjoying your playful banter. But he knew it was time to reign in the excitement. He took a deep breath, his gaze firmly fixed on your face as he took in your beautiful features.

"It is for you…but it’s not perfect yet." He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers gently curled around your cheeks. "Just promise me you won't look, alright? Please."

“To me, it’s already perfect if it comes from you. But yes, I pinky swear not to snoop.”

“Ah…the infamous pinky swear.” Michael couldn't help but chuckle softly at your response. He felt a mix of emotions swirling within him, a combination of affection and contentment. But he couldn't suppress a mischievous grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. He gently lifted your hand, interlocking your pinky with his, your other hands still grasped together. "There." He chuckled. "No more peeking." He added the subtle touch of bringing them up to his lips and pressing a kiss to them.

“Oh no, you locked in the promise, how ever will I break such an indestructible barrier now!” You feign worry.

“You don’t.” His gaze remained fixated on you, a flicker of playfulness gleaming his eyes. He knew you so well by now. He had grown accustomed and even fond of your cheeky wit and playful nature. But now that you were so close, he couldn’t help but steal a kiss from your soft lips, his touch as gentle as a whisper.

You couldn't help but crack a bemused grin as he played along. "It's unbreakable, and if you break it..." He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a hint of playful menace. "Well, there will be consequences to face." He teased.

“The good kind I hope.” You let out a bubble of laughter.

Michael laughed softly at your adorable giggle, his gaze flicking down from your eyes to your lips for a moment before he gently brushed them with his thumb. He was caught in the moment, completely entranced by your effortless charm and wit.

He leaned in even closer, his voice low but full of playfulness. "The best kind...always." He whispered leaning down to kiss you sweetly, gently. Making sure to hold you like the precious gem you are. Afraid of having you break in his hands.

Your curious mind hadn’t let you enjoy the moment though. “How was business? Did you get more clientele!”

“A few yeah. I even had a familiar face come in for a special request.” Michael turned his head over his shoulder and you watched as a black little velvet box floated over to the both of you. Michael snatched it out of the air to show it to you. A ring sat inside as he opened up the box.

“Michael this is beautiful!”

“Kyle Valenti wants to marry my sister. Can you believe it!”

“Kyle came by?” You awed.

“He did, and he’s asked me to tell you that you need to keep Isobel occupied tomorrow and have her look beautiful or she’ll eat him alive. His words.”

“Iz accomplishes that on her own, but I can keep her busy and beautiful!” You squeeze your face in delight.

“I asked Maria, Liz, and Rosa to tag along so Iz won't get suspicious.”

“Good call…I’m a bad liar.” You wince.

“I know.” He nods, not denying your self-claim. “Hence why I called them!”

“Wow, thanks!” You scoff, whacking him across the shoulder.

“You walked into that one on your own.” He couldn’t contain his laughter as you continued your attacks. 

[reverie-verse]

Please tell me someone has seen 1999 version of Roswell (Obviously this is the best version hands down). I grew up watching this show with my mom and brother. Honestly I’m soooooooooo down to write some fics. Single, platonic or ships 😂😂😂

Let me know!!!!!!

This low key a psa to watch it because y’all are soooo missing out and I need someone to talk to 😂

-Rie

[ravennaortiz]

Day 17:Christmas Lights

Summary: Fluff/Suggestive with Guero x Reader

"You're missing out on some spectacular Christmas light displays" you playfully chided feeling Gueros eyes on you. You were strolling hand in hand through the center of town for the annual Christmas Tree lighting and enjoying the sights. "What can I say your the only spectacular thing I see" replied Guero giving you a smug look as you rolled your eyes.

"If it will make you happy I will place my eyes upon the lights. Your wish is my command" offered Guero as he pulled you into his side with his arm around your shoulder. "Thou do noth shine nearly as bright as ye" he added with a forlorn expression making you laugh. "Jeez, the dramatics are next level babe" you stated as the two of you finally arrived at the center where the giant Christmas tree was. "I bet you would like Christmas Lights more if they were wrapped around me" you whispered sending him a smirk.

Guero couldn't speak as his mind was flooded with images of the lights dancing off your skin in the dark. "Would have to test it out. I may not" replied Guero with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Uh-huh" you replied as you looked to the countdown clock that showed two minutes until show time.

Gueros eyes too found the clock and he started to feel nervous as the seconds ticked away. The small box in his jacket felt like it might burn a hole through his pocket. Too say he had some issues with commitment, trust, jealously and anger was putting it nicely. You had always seen the true him though and he knew you wouldn't give up on him. You had put up with him for three years and he hoped you wouldn't mind forever. The clanging and cheering pulled Guero from his thoughts.

Taking a breath he let go of you and knelt down with the box out and open. "Gue-" the sight of the ring had you at a loss for words. "Will you do me the honor of being my forever person" inquired Guero as he set his eyes on yours. "Y-Y-yes" you breathed out shakily.

Tag List:@darqchilddaydreamz

[morgandr]

Imagine:

After you had graduated from college you get the feeling of being drawn to Roswell, New Mexico. During this time you experience so many things that you never thought were truly real.

——————————————————————————-

(PHOTOS FOUND ON PINTEREST!)

(Roswell, New Mexico X Reader)

——————————————————————————-

(TAGS)

[dr-lizortecho]

so you know how mathematically it’s supported that Michael spent roughly the first five years of his life with Jones and Nora? And how there’s enough evidence to assert that on Oasis the males were primarily responsible for childcare/rearing?

well, Jones strikes me as “revolutionary” and more than preoccupied enough not to bother with such trivial day to day as like making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and Nora was off engineering for Ophichus and participating in the war (while secretly building a rebellion) and ya da ya da, so Jones had to come up with a day to day solution

so I present to you: babysitter Clyde

[pastelwitchling]

              Michael had issues with memories. In that, he hated them.

              He hated being reminded of the past, he hated remembering how awful his life had been before that moment when he’d been seventeen and then for the next decade. He hated thinking back to all the times he’d kept his feelings bottled up, all the things he should’ve said but was too scared or angry to, all the times he should’ve fought for the love of his life but didn’t.

              He hated imagining his Alex, afraid and miserable, trudging his way through life alone because he had believed Michael didn’t love him. Michael thought he probably should’ve confessed to this hate he had, taken the weight off his chest and unleashed some of the tension that knotted in his shoulders every time he thought of his Alex back then and everything they’d both had to endure. But then Alex would smile lovingly at him for no reason, or laugh at something he’d say with the perfect blush in his cheeks, and Michael preferred to bask in that affection instead of lament all the time he’d wasted.

              That was why, when he had started cleaning their bedroom that morning and come across Alex’s old journal underneath the bed, he hadn’t expected to find himself curled up on the floor against the bed, his legs pulled up to his chest as he read some of the last of Alex’s scrawls. The setting sun poured in through the blinds and left bars of gold light across the floor when Michael heard Alex calling for him.

              The door creaked open and Alex peeked his head in.

              “Hey,” Alex leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, hands in his jacket pockets, “I brought some cake. What’re you doing?”

              “Reading.”

              “Something interesting?” he raised a brow, and soon was easing himself onto the carpet beside Michael. Michael instinctively reached a hand out and eased his descent, and instead of pulling away, he grabbed a fistful of his jacket.

              “Yeah,” Michael murmured, eyes still searching the page. “Really interesting.”

              Alex titled his head, trying to peek at the book. “What . . . is that my journal?”

              “Yep.”

              “Oh my god, I thought I lost this months ago,” he exclaimed, and tried to take the journal back, but Michael kept it out of reach. “Where’d you even find it?”

              “Under the bed,” he said, and did not fail to notice the way Alex watched him. There was no mistaking it; he’d picked up on his tone.

              “What’s wrong with you?”

              Michael shook his head. What was wrong? Did Alex not remember the things he’d written in here? Could he really not understand what the problem was?

              “Hey,” Alex ran his fingers through Michael’s curls, “talk to me.”

              Michael clenched his jaw. He knew it wasn’t fair to be angry with Alex—how could he be, when Alex had been nothing but honest about his feelings?—but he couldn’t help it. He was angry that Alex, who always understood him better than anyone, couldn’t understand him now. He was angry that Alex had been so miserable in a time when Michael couldn’t protect him. He was angry, more than anything, at himself. Because he knew he was the reason these words existed. He knew what the splotches of ink meant, and imagined Alex pouring his heart out on the paper only to cry his heart out when he couldn’t take it anymore.

              Michael stood. “Nothing’s wrong. I have to go. I have a shift at the junkyard.”

              Alex, concerned, started to follow. “Guerin?”

              “I’ll see you later.”

              Without another word, Michael closed the bedroom door behind him, stilling against it with his fist tight around the doorknob. His fingers trembled, every fiber of his being demanding that he go back inside, hug his Alex, kiss away that furrow in his brows, and confess to everything that was weighing him down. But acknowledging the contents of this journal meant acknowledging his own fault in its existence, and he couldn’t do it. Not now, when he was so consumed with this ugly feeling.

              He looked back at the door, wondering if Alex hadn’t chased after him yet because he knew Michael needed space, and forced himself to let go, to leave the house and get in his truck and drive away, all the while telling himself that distance was what he needed to feel better.

              It wasn’t working. Michael had gone to the junkyard in the hopes of working himself to a sweat, until he wasn’t unable to think of anything but the pain in his limbs, but almost two minutes later, he’d pulled out Alex’s journal and here he was, yet again, sitting on the steps of the airstream as he reread Alex’s last entry from just two years ago.

              “I thought I’d never feel this lost again. I thought, after Forrest, I’d learned my lesson and knew to give Michael up. I thought I finally knew how it felt to be loved, and I didn’t want whatever guarded version of it Michael chose to give me. But it’s happened again. He’s kissed me, and I let him in. I didn’t expect it, but even after everything I told myself, even after all the warnings, even after I’d had someone who loved me better, I still wanted him. I still do, with everything I have. I kind of hate myself for it. I think I hate him a little, too. Because now, he smiles at me and kisses me and touches me, and I don’t know how much of it to believe. I don’t know how much of him to have faith in this time. I think I hate him a little more than a little. I only wish that was enough to give him up.”

              Michael shut his eyes tight, pressing the base of his palm to his temple. Alex’s concerned face came into view, and again, Michael wondered if Alex had been so frightened of him that he pretended not to know what he’d written. Or had he been mocking Michael, silently asking if it had really needed to take Michael reading Alex’s words written down to understand how he’d hurt him. A darker part of Michael had debated whether Alex had purposely left this journal under the bed in the hopes that Michael would find it while he was cleaning and finally come face-to-face with some hard truths.

              But no, it had been covered in a thin sheen of dust, clearly forgotten for a while.

              Michael groaned, running his hands through his curls. He heard tires on gravel, and his heart leapt, foolishly hoping that Alex had followed him, and looked up to find Dallas instead as he parked and stepped out of his car.

              “Wow,” Dallas greeted with a smile, his hands in his pockets, “you’re not even pretending that you’re not waiting for him to show anymore, are you?”

              “We’re married,” Michael said, slumping against the trailer. “I don’t have to pretend I’m not waiting for him.”

              “Aww, tough cowboy in love,” he groaned as he sat down on the step beside him. “That why you’re here instead of spending the night having a romantic dinner with your husband?”

              Michael pursed his lips, turning Alex’s journal in both hands before he held it out for Dallas to look at.

              Brow raised, Dallas took the journal and opened to a random page. “What is this?” he asked as his eyes scanned the page. His brows furrowed as he got to the bottom and started on another entry. His frown deepened. “Guerin, did you just get me to read Alex’s diary or something? I should definitely not be reading something like that without permission. You should definitely not be reading something like this without permission.”

              “Alex doesn’t keep secrets from me,” Michael defended, because he couldn’t help it. “Or . . . I didn’t think he did.”

              Dallas considered him. “This thing is why you look like someone else just kissed your husband?”

              Michael glared, but Dallas was already returning his attention to the journal. “Seriously though, does Alex know you have this?”

              “Yeah,” Michael murmured, staring out into the dark desert. “He knows.”

              A pause. “Does he though?” Dallas grinned. “There’s no way he knows it’s getting to you like this, and he’s just leaving you alone to deal with it. Hell, the only time I’ve ever seen Alex give you space is when you fight to get away from him—”

              “I’ve never wanted to be away from him!” Michael snapped, and Dallas looked startled, silence weighing them down for a long, uncomfortable minute.

              “Okay,” Dallas finally said slowly. “Is that what’s going on here?”

              Michael worked his jaw, unwilling to look at him. “You saw what he wrote.”

              “Yeah, but . . .” he flipped through the pages. “Michael, these date back to at least two years ago.”

              “I kissed him, Dallas,” he said, the edge in his voice more a mark of his fear than any anger. “I kissed him, and he said he hated me. And all that time—” he cut off, his chest suddenly aching. It got harder to breathe the more he thought about it. “All that time, after he left me standing in this junkyard and I thought he had a million other things to do, all the work I thought he was doing for the Air Force, all the friends I was sure he was hanging out with, and it turns out, all he did was protect me and think that I couldn’t care less about him while he did it.”

              Dallas sighed. “Michael, man, come on.”

              “All that time,” Michael whispered, shaking his head, “I thought he had this whole other happy life that I was infesting, and he was just as miserable as I was. Except he never gave up on me, and I—”

              “Stop it,” Dallas squeezed his shoulder. “Did you tell Alex any of this?”

              He asked as though he knew what Michael’s answer would be. As he thought, Dallas didn’t look the least bit surprised when Michael shook his head.

              “So let me get this straight,” he said. “You read a few journal entries about Alex upset over you walking away from him, and to fix it, you . . . left him alone without any explanation.”

              Michael swallowed. “I’m scared,” he confessed, his voice quiet.

              “Scared of what?”

              “That I’ll find out he still hates me.” Saying the words made it all feel so much more real, and Michael found he couldn’t look away from the journal. “And he’s only with me because he’s more miserable away.”

              Silence. Then Dallas surprised him when he chuckled softly. “When are you going to get it? There’s nothing that man loves more in this world than you.” Michael didn’t know what to say to that, and Dallas patted his arm. “Hey, you know why you didn’t go into the airstream to wallow inside instead? You know it’s not your home, and it’s not what you need. Lucky for you though,” Dallas smiled and stood, “the answer to both those things is the same person. And I’ll bet you anything he’s waiting for you to realize that right now.”

              Michael didn’t get back home for another hour, when the sky was pitch black and the rest of the world was sound asleep. Except Alex, apparently, because Michael parked in their driveway to find all of their windows and front porch lit. The door was already open when Michael tried it, and he swallowed. Alex was making a point to show him that he was waiting up for him, because there was no way he would go to sleep without doublechecking all the locks first.

              Sure enough, Michael smelled tomato soup cooking, and when he stepped into the living room, there Alex was, sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlocked. He looked like he’d been in that position since Michael had left, and when his eyes met Michael’s, they were as angry as Michael’s had been. Alex, however, had a coldness to his anger that made Michael shudder and glad he was never on the other end of it. Until now.

              “You’re still up?”

              Alex didn’t humor that question with a response.

              “Did you eat? It doesn’t look like you ate or changed—come on, you must be uncomfortable, we’ll get you into some sweats and—”

              “You better have a damn good explanation for walking out like that,” Alex cut him off coldly, and Michael flinched. “Or am I just supposed to pretend you didn’t shut me out again?”

              Michael tugged on the hem of his jacket, looking at everything but Alex. “Please don’t talk to me like that, Private.”

              “Like what?”

              “Like you still hate me,” he whispered, and Alex said nothing. Michael’s lower lip trembled as all the exhaustion and fear and misery showed itself, and he knelt down in front of Alex. He gripped his thighs and rested his chin on Alex’s knee, needing to touch him. “Do you?” he murmured, a tear sliding down along his nose before he could help it. “Still hate me?”

              Alex watched him, and Michael kept waiting for him to say that it was true, that there was still a part of him that hated the cowboy for how he’d treated him. But Alex only sighed and looked away, then looked back at Michael and held out his hand.

              “Give it to me,” he commanded.

              Michael swallowed, pulling the journal out of his jacket and placing it slowly in Alex’s hand. Alex then took his wrist and said, “Up,” albeit gentler. Michael rose to his feet, and Alex bent over to quickly dust off his jeans. Then he walked over to the fireplace, and without warning, tossed the journal into the flames.

              “What—Alex!”

              Alex, however, couldn’t have cared less about the journal as he rounded on Michael, arms crossed. “I thought we were done with that crap,” he demanded. “I thought we were in this thing together now. I thought we didn’t walk away from each other anymore.”

              “Alex,” Michael shook his head, still wide-eyed at the burning pages. “I only—”

              “No, Guerin, no!” he snapped. “If you were upset, you should’ve talked to me. If you were angry, you should’ve talked to me. Even and especially if I’m the one you’re pissed at, then you talk to ME! Being your husband means I don’t have to pace and panic anymore every time something’s going on with you!”

              “And you hated doing that, right?” Michael said, before he could help it. “You hated how I made you feel, you hated me, Alex. I read your journal entries, I know how you felt about me that whole time we were apart—”

              “Of course I did,” Alex argued, frustration showing itself in his brimming tears, “I hated everything because we were apart!”

              Michael stared, shocked at Alex crying, but when he tried to take a step towards him, Alex shook his head and stepped back.

              “I hated you,” he conceded. “I hated you because I wanted you more than anything, and I never knew where I stood with you. I hated knowing that I would do anything—anything—to make you happy, but not knowing if you cared one way or the other how I felt. I hated fighting all my demons for a guy that turned everything I said into a joke and never even tried to see how hard I was trying. I hated loving a man who never thought twice about walking away from me!”

              “Alex—”

              “Damn it, Guerin, you can’t just leave like that, you have no idea what it does to me!”

              “Okay, I’m—I’m sorry,” he tried, holding his hands up in defense as he slowly approached his husband. “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Don’t cry, okay?”

              Alex had told Michael that he didn’t know what his leaving did, but Michael could see it play out on his face. He could see Alex’s anger as it shifted to heartbreak and panic, the fear he must’ve felt when the man he’d spent so long fighting to have had suddenly left him all alone again. Michael had wondered earlier if Alex hadn’t tried getting in touch with him because he thought Michael needed space, but now Michael wondered if the truth wasn’t closer to Alex fearing getting in touch with Michael and pushing him further away.

              “You can’t do that to me,” Alex whimpered, and Michael’s heart broke. He finally got to him and wrapped Alex in his arms, holding him tight enough that it should’ve hurt. Alex’s cries were soft against his shoulder. “I was so mad at the world,” he managed under his breath, “and so mad at myself, and I said so much crap I didn’t mean. I’m not that man anymore, Guerin. I’m so in love with you that I can’t imagine a time where I ever felt anything less than what I feel right now. I forgot how bad the feelings in that book were until you left. You shouldn’t have left me.”

              Michael shushed him softly, reaching a hand into his hair and tugging on the strands. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anymore, it’s okay.”

              Alex gripped his jacket back tightly. “You can’t leave me again,” he cried, and Michael shut his eyes. “You can’t ever do that, Guerin. I can’t let you go anymore, I can’t give you up. If you leave me, I’ll die. I will.”

              “Stop,” Michael demanded in a whisper, squeezing him at the very thought. “Stop stop stop. Don’t talk like that. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

              Alex only hugged his waist tighter in response, and they both stood there, holding each other in front of the fire as the pages of the past burned.

              Finally, after a long several few minutes when Alex’s tears had subsided and his cries turned silent, Michael said, “Did you still make dinner?”

              Alex, tired and his voice cracking, huffed a chuckle. “I almost reached for the phone twelve times. I had to keep myself busy with something.”

              Michael turned his face into Alex’s neck and kissed the soft skin there, then he said, “Do me a favor?”

              “Anything,” Alex said without hesitation. Michael believed him.

              “The next time I try to do something stupid like I did today, jump on my back, okay? Cling to me, hug me, tie me up. Just don’t let me turn away from you, no matter what reason I have. Being away sucked, and I’m just a dumbass when it comes to you.”

              He could feel Alex’s soft smile against his cheek, even as he held him protectively. “Will do.”

***

I wrote this to save for malex monday, but I couldn't wait. Happy saturday 🩷

Quick reminder that I'm posting my original stories on my side blog, @katherineblackmare. Three chapters every Friday 🩷💕🩷💕

[manesalex]

nothing starts without you (we become the stories we’ve always wanted): chapter 3/3

When Alex’s former bandmate, Rosa Ortecho, asks him to write a song to help kickstart her solo career, Alex finds himself struggling to write anything at all. Until, that is, he meets Michael Guerin. Or, a loose Music and Lyrics AU. for @alex-guerin @malexsanta​

Warnings for suggestive comments, references to past abuse, and references to addiction. Not Maria Deluca friendly.

***

“I love it!” Rosa responds immediately after hearing the part of the song that Michael and Alex have finished. She turns to Michael, “You’re sure you’re okay with me singing it? I mean, you’ll be getting royalties and everything for it, but I know that some writers can have an issue with someone else being the face of their material.”

Alex is so grateful Rosa understands without him having had to say anything about it. He had always been relieved to have her be the face of his songs, to be able to distance himself publicly from his own experiences, but he’s so glad she realizes that Michael may not feel the same way.

“No one wants to hear me sing,” Michael laughs. “As long as you’re crediting me, I’d love to get my work out there.”

“I think a lot of artists will be calling you up and asking you to write for them once this one gets out,” Rosa grins. “Thank you.”

Michael is about to speak when his phone rings. He quickly excuses himself.

And Alex really shouldn’t be surprised with how quickly Rosa takes advantage of the opening, like she’s been itching for the opportunity to interfere in his personal life. “He’s hot,” she says, elbowing Alex.

“I didn’t think he was your type,” Alex replies, being deliberately obtuse. He knows she can read his feelings all over his face. He may be able to hide them from Michael, but Rosa has known him since he was a child and has witnessed every crush he’s ever had.

“You should ask him out,” Rosa ignores the comment.

“I’m pretty sure he’s straight,” Alex admits. “And he used to date Maria Deluca. I’m pretty sure that, even if he were into guys, she put him off of musicians.”

Rosa frowns, takes a moment before saying, “You deserve to be happy, Alex. If anyone deserves to be loved, it’s you. I think you should see if he’d be interested. But, even if he isn’t, I really wish you’d let someone in.”

Alex is about to object when Michael returns. He turns to Alex immediately, saying, “My sister wanted me to invite you to dinner. Tonight. Assuming you’re free?” He almost sounds hopeful.

“I’ve got plans with Kyle,” Alex responds, tone apologetic. “Or I would.” He may have spent the entire day with Michael, but that isn’t nearly enough. Not for him. Alex may have just met him, but he’s pretty sure he’d happily spend the rest of his life with Michael.

“I’m sure Isobel would be happy to have him join us too,” Michael replies. He looks down before meeting Alex’s eyes, “She’s kind of been a fan since your first album. I’m pretty sure she won’t forgive me if she misses her chance to meet you.”

And that explains it. Michael is just a good brother who is trying to make his sister happy. Of course that’s all this is. “Yeah, I think I can talk Kyle into that.”

“Good,” Michael grins at him. Alex feels his heart swell in spite of himself. He’s so screwed.

***

Michael isn’t sure whether his sister was flirting more with Alex or Kyle during dinner. So, when he gets her alone in the kitchen, he says, “You know he’s gay, right?”

“Kyle too?” Isobel sounds disappointed. “I mean, I’d be happy to think about those two hooking up because, wow. There has to be something in the water in this town. They’re both way too hot. And those cheekbones!”

“No, Alex. I’ve known Kyle about as long as you have.”

“Of course I know Alex is gay. And I wouldn’t pursue someone you’re making actual hearteyes at anyway.”

“I’m not-”

Isobel cuts him off, “Michael, I’ve known you my whole life. And I’ve never seen you look at someone like that. Like you’re imagining your wedding to him.”

“He’s way out of my league, Isobel,” Michael argues.

“Did he say that?” Isobel asks, sounding like she already knows the answer. “Look, I know Maria did a number on you, but that man has been returning your adoring looks all night and it would actually be kinda sickening if I didn’t have Kyle here to look at instead.”

“You really think he’d be interested in me?” Michael asks. He knows it’s not a good idea and is sure he wouldn’t survive Alex realizing that Michael isn’t good enough for him, but he can’t help but want it anyway.

“Yes, Michael. He’s obviously interested in you. And I think you should go for it. Tonight, ideally. Leave me alone with the sexy doctor.” Isobel’s grin is positively evil. And, in spite of himself, Michael really wants to take her advice.

***

“Drive you home?” Michael offers in little over a whisper. And Alex wants this to be more than it is, just the friendly offer from the man who drove them both here.

“You do know I’ve been staying with Kyle, right?” Alex asks, giving Michael the option to rescind the polite offer.

“Yeah, I know,” Michael replies, perfectly calmly. “Did you want to wait to get a ride home with him or would you rather let me drive you home?”

Alex is pretty sure he takes far too long to respond. “Let me get my jacket.”

Michael just holds it out to him and waits as Alex puts it on, offering his hand to Alex to help him up.

Alex considers for a moment, but takes it. And then, to his surprise, Michael doesn’t let go, simply leads him toward the front door, shouting, “See you tomorrow, Is!”

“Have fun!” she shouts back. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” Michael shouts at her.

They’re out the door before Isobel can reply.

Before they reach his truck, Michael stops them in the middle of the sidewalk, hand still holding Alex’s. He looks like he’s about to speak and Alex is absolutely certain that, whatever he says, it will kill the fragile bit of hope that’s building inside of him. The hope that, just maybe, Michael might want him after all.

And, suddenly, Michael’s lips are pressed against his and it feels like time stops, like nothing exists outside of the man in front of him, the way his lips are parting, the way his free hand presses against Alex’s lower back, pulling him closer, kissing Alex like he’s precious, like he cares about him more than anyone ever has.

Michael pulls away a couple of inches and Alex opens his eyes to see Michael’s already focused on his own eyes.

And then Michael smiles at him like he’s feeling everything Alex is feeling, like he’s jumped off the edge of a cliff only to start to fly.

***

The last week has been the best week of Michael’s life, waking up next to Alex, getting to kiss him awake, to spend hours in bed, kissing and talking and exploring each others’ bodies. They’ve been taking time to write together as well and, really, every moment Michael spends with Alex, no matter what they’re doing, makes Michael feel happier than he’s ever felt before.

Sadly, he hasn’t been working on Alex’s cabin, but he spends every hour he’s at work counting down to the moment he can be with Alex again.

Tonight, however, he’s going to Rosa’s concert. Alex has some kind of surprise for him and he can’t wait to see whatever it is. Some small part of him hopes he’s going to see Alex get onstage with Rosa to play their song.

He and Isobel get to their seats in the front row, but, to his surprise, Isobel isn’t even looking up from her phone to tease him about how he’d disappeared for the last week.

“Who’s got you so distracted?” he finally asks.

“Kyle,” Isobel admits. Michael is pretty sure she’s actually blushing. “He’s really hot. And a surprisingly generous lover. He went down on me for-”

“Isobel! I don’t want to hear about your sex life!” he objects quickly.

“Your loss,” she shrugs. “You could learn some things.”

“Nothing I’d want to learn,” he replies.

“What about you?” she asks. “Been too busy in Alex Manes’s bed to give me the details?”

“He’s amazing,” Michael smiles. “He’s so kind and smart and-”

“Those aren’t the details I’m looking for,” Isobel tells him.

“I’m not describing his dick to you,” Michael shakes his head.

“You’re no fun!” she pouts for a moment before breaking into a smile. “Seriously though. I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve someone who treats you well.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

He’s incredibly grateful that the house lights lower, preventing Isobel from sharing more unsolicited details about her sex life.

Rosa walks out onstage, grabbing the mic, waiting until the cheers die down. And then she speaks. “I know you were expecting to just see me tonight, but I have a friend here and he’s going to sing a song he wrote first, if you’re all okay with that.”

The crowd cheers, but Michael’s heart drops. A song Alex wrote. Not that they wrote together. He had really thought Alex was so much better than that, so much kinder, that he could trust him. He can’t believe he opened his heart up, that he finally took a chance on someone, only for this to happen again.

He stumbles up the aisle, desperate to get out, to get away from the crowd.

Everything sounds like he’s underwater and he’s pretty sure he’s crying. Until Alex’s voice breaks through all of it.

It’s not the song they’d written. He stops still, turns around to see Alex sitting with his guitar, strumming it and singing into the mic. Singing something Michael has never heard before.

It’s raw and lovely and more vulnerable than anything Michael had heard from him or Rosa before. It’s the most beautiful song Michael has ever heard in his life.

He’s still crying, but no longer tears from a broken heart. The crowd fades away and it’s like it’s just Alex singing directly to him, letting him know about all of his insecurities and fears and hopes.

And, yeah, Michael is definitely in love with this man.

Alex’s eyes find him and he smiles hopefully at Michael and all Michael can do is nod in response.

Alex’s responding grin is brighter than the sun.

Michael’s eyes don’t leave Alex until he’s done with the song and off the stage entirely. And then Michael rushes toward the door, flashing the backstage pass Alex had given him at the guard, desperate to see Alex.

He finds Alex standing backstage in a dressing room, looking like he’s worrying about something.

Michael wants to reassure him, to let him know that there’s no reason for concern. “That was amazing.”

“You really think so?” Alex asks. “It wasn’t too much?” It almost sounds to Michael like he’s asking if he’s too much, if all the vulnerabilities he shared in his song are too much for Michael.

“Yeah. You’re amazing.” He wishes he could show Alex what he sees when he looks at him, how truly gorgeous he is, how amazed Michael is that his heart is still so beautiful after everything he’s gone through. “When did you find the time to write that?”

Alex blushes, looking at the floor, “When you were working.”

Michael steps right in front of him, hand on his jaw, tilting it up so he’s looking Michael in the eye. And all he can do is tell Alex exactly how he feels, even if it’s too soon. “I love you.”

Alex takes a moment to respond, looks like he can’t quite believe his ears. And then he’s smiling and saying, “I love you too.”

They’re both quiet for a moment before Alex realizes, “You’re going to miss Rosa singing your song.”

Michael just shrugs, “Doesn’t matter. I’d rather be here with you.” And it’s true. Before he met Alex, Michael had so desperately wanted to hear his songs sung for crowds of people who all knew he wrote them. But now he’s happy just to be here with Alex.

Alex grabs his hand and Michael smiles in response, intertwining their fingers and squeezing Alex’s hand. And then Alex leads Michael to the stage, right outside of the audience’s view. “Now you can have both,” he says so quietly that only Michael can hear his voice. “You shouldn’t miss this.”

Rosa is standing there in front of the crowd, “This next song was written by Alex and a man named Michael Guerin. I think you’re going to hear a lot of his work in the years to come. Maybe you’re already familiar with some of his stuff.”

Alex seems to anticipate Michael’s question, because, when Michael turns to him for answers, he says, “You’re talented. And you have a very distinctive voice. Rosa figured it out on her own.” And Michael finds himself relieved by that answer, by the knowledge that maybe Maria hasn’t fully gotten away with stealing his work, that maybe people will figure out the truth on their own, without him needing to prove a thing.

Alex gave him that. And so much more than he ever knew he wanted.

Michael turns back toward the stage, watching Rosa sing the song he wrote with Alex, the song that brought the man beside him into his life. He’s not sure if he’s ready for the attention that Rosa implied he’ll be receiving soon, but he knows he’ll be able to handle it, as long as Alex is here at his side.

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

do you see the light (at the end of the tunnel)

Summary: Guerin was incredibly lucky not to have short circuited his own heart in his attempt at restarting Alex’s – something Kyle had admonished him for repeatedly since then.

-

Follow up to I can hear the sound of your barely beating heart

Word Count: 2,612

[Also on AO3]

Guerin was incredibly lucky not to have short circuited his own heart in his attempt at restarting Alex’s – something Kyle had admonished him for repeatedly since then.

He had succeeded in passing out in a rather dramatic fashion at Liz’s feet, scaring the life out of Isobel and leaving Kyle with yet another patient to deal with. But, he supposed, it was much better than the alternative. And after feeling rough for a day – regardless of the gallon of acetone he had chugged – he had soon been back to his normal self.

Not that Kyle was complaining (for once). He couldn’t imagine what Alex would do to him if he found out that his boyfriend had sacrificed his life in order to raise him from the dead. 

Kyle was definitely taking partial credit for that by the way. Guerin may have used his magical glowy hand, but the tests they had run since then revealed that his and Liz’s serum had fused to Alex’s cells, the handprint had just given it the jump start it needed.

It was still crazy to think about. The feat they had achieved with only a few science nerds and some alien DNA. He and Liz had literally pulled off the impossible, bringing a human being— bringing their best friend back to life. 

They wouldn’t have pulled any of it off without his uncle’s powerful, pro-alien organisation, of course. The tech at Deep Sky had been invaluable not to mention the private space they had been afforded. All employees were very serious about their oath to secrecy regarding what they worked on and witnessed within that building, but it was still nice to know they didn’t have to worry about any ex-boyfriends sneaking around trying to scoop out their scientific discoveries. 

He understood why his uncle had been wary when he and Alex had first started to bring everyone into the fold. Eduardo had employed them not their friends. And that was only after extensive background checks. (Yes, even on his own nephew). 

This time, he’d welcomed them with open arms if it meant finding a cure for Alex.

Not that it should ever have been needed.

Alex should never have ended up in that situation. 

He had been so close to leaving the Air Force. So close to getting out. And he’d told Kyle as much over a beer at the Wild Pony some weeks before his death. He had only stayed in order to investigate the last vestiges of Project Shepard that he suspected was still active but he’d promised Kyle – he’d promised himself – that his next mission would be his last. 

Oh, how right he was.

When he’d bumped into Kyle on the morning of his last assignment, he’d mentioned his certainty that his father still had a hold on a small corner of the military and that the mission he was being sent on could very well prove the connection he’d been looking for.

He’d made Kyle promise not to tell Michael – that his boyfriend would just worry endlessly until he returned. Not that Kyle would have blamed him. 

When the call came in about Alex’s death, he knew his friend’s suspicions had been true. And he wished beyond anything that he had stopped him from going. 

Getting the news had been like a hundred punches to the stomach, winding him instantly. In fact, it felt like he had been holding his breath ever since Isobel had called. His lungs closing in on themselves, refusing to take in any air until his friend could do the same, as if it was the least they could do.

But there was time to unpack his guilt later. For now, he was more than happy to focus on the miracle of a fact that Alex Manes was alive. 

There was just the minor issue of him not having woken up yet.

Entering the Deep Sky infirmary, he was unsurprised to see that the familiar scene before him was unchanged since his last check in. Alex was reclined on the bed, eyes closed in a seemingly endless sleep, the few screens surrounding him beeping steadily. 

The EKG leads snaking under the collar of his loose-fitting t-shirt were just a precaution, a way for Kyle to monitor his condition easily and put his mind at ease for when he wasn’t in the room. For all intents and purposes, Alex seemed to be okay, his recent brush with death having left no ill effects on his body.

Glued to his side, Guerin didn’t look to have moved an inch in the hour that Kyle was out of the room. He’d been waiting patiently, diligently, (relentlessly) since Alex had taken his first breath a few days ago and lack of sleep was definitely going to catch up with him at some point. Kyle had tried to make him take a break, but if there was one thing Michael Guerin wasn’t going to do, it was listen to a Valenti. 

He was looking better though, in a way. Still tired, but less dishevelled. Less of a wreck. The past month had been hard on all of them but none more than Michael. For a rough, tough cowboy, always eager to put up a front, he hadn’t been far off from completely breaking apart. And even Kyle had to admit, that had been difficult to witness.

But the hardest part was over now, Alex was alive and that was their only focus.

Guerin didn’t react as Kyle entered the room, one hand propping up his chin whilst the other rested gently atop Alex’s, his thumb lazily tracing the grooves of his boyfriend’s knuckles. His gaze only wandered away from Alex’s lax features once Kyle was close enough to survey the monitors, but he had a feeling Guerin was paying more attention to the up and down of the waveform than he was to the doctor reading them.

It was a common sight at the hospital – relatives not wanting to stray too far from their loved ones for fear of the worst. Sometimes they would stare at the screens for hours without really knowing what the flashing numbers meant, just on the lookout for the first warning sign that something was wrong. Anything to feel useful.

It was a horrible responsibility for someone to put on themselves, but he was kind of glad Alex had someone in his life that would do the same for him.

He’d seen the connection between the two of them for some time, even back in high school when he’d secretly kept track on Alex in between his macho need to torment him. He had to thank teenage Kyle for having a modicum of sense back then and not sabotaging Alex’s life entirely.

Since they’d reconciled, he’d seen how cheerful Alex had been. The way he got all sappy when he talked about Guerin, blush creeping up his cheeks as if Kyle wasn’t aware of how absolutely head over heels he was.

And honestly, it made Kyle so damn happy. 

He glanced up from Alex’s chart, pen hovering above the paper mid-update, and over to Guerin with a look that obviously had the man spiralling into instant panic. 

“What’s wrong?” Guerin asked, eyes widening as his brow pulled down low. Kyle chose not to comment on the way he gripped Alex’s hand a little tighter.

“What’s wrong is that you’re still sitting here. I thought I told you to go home and rest.”

“Yeah, and I told you that I’m not going anywhere, Valenti.” His attempt at being disdainful failed, his usual level of snark muted drastically by the clear exhaustion hanging over him.

Kyle held back the exasperated sigh as he continued jotting down notes. He knew better than to argue against Guerin when he was like this. His first attempts at getting him to leave had ended with raised voices and more accidentally exploded light bulbs and he couldn’t imagine Eduardo would be best pleased with more of his property being destroyed. 

He could feel Guerin’s eyes on him, watching him carefully as he wrote, so obvious in his concern.

“Is something wrong?” Guerin asked him gingerly as he placed the clipboard on the table, and he forced himself to hold back another sigh for a completely different reason.

“No.” He replied, the gentle tone saved for soothing fearful relatives coming through. “Everything still looks okay. There doesn’t seem to be any lasting effects, his vitals are still normal… We just need to give him time.”

Guerin nodded, roughly wiping at a stray tear that escaped so quickly it had rolled off his chin before he could stop it. Kyle hadn’t thought it possible for him to look even more deflated but the way his gaze shifted back to Alex showed his disappointment at the answer.

They could pretend that it was good news all they wanted, taking solace in that fact that Alex wasn’t suddenly getting worse, but the longer it took for him to wake up, the harder it was to see any positives.  

“Does he know that we’re here? Can he— like, is he hearing us, without being able to—?”

And if that wasn’t the age-old coma question. 

“Honestly Guerin, I don’t know.”

Michael nodded again absentmindedly, biting his lip so hard Kyle was surprised he didn’t draw blood. There was little else he could do for now and as Guerin laced his fingers with Alex’s, bringing his hand up to kiss softly at his knuckles, he took that as his cue to leave.

Before he could fully close the door behind him, he heard Guerin whisper gently to a blissfully unaware Alex. 

“You take as long as you need. We’ll all be here when you’re ready.”

 —

 Kyle didn’t stray far.

As had often been the case during the past few days.

He had taken emergency leave at the hospital shortly after beginning their search for a cure. Every minute spent not in the lab had felt like a waste of precious time and he had found it increasingly more difficult to concentrate on the patients in front of him when his mind kept wandering to the one waiting for him in stasis.

He had yet to return to work, despite successfully pulling off the small medical miracle of conquering death and resurrecting his childhood best friend. They were in untested waters here with no real clue of the consequences to their actions and he wasn’t going to leave until he knew for certain that Alex would be okay. 

Bringing him back didn’t come with any guarantees, despite what he had been reassuring Guerin. But then, sometimes loved ones needed that little bit of hope to hold onto.

He kept himself busy in the lab – Deep Sky having an abundance of fascinating work to dive into – until it was time to check in on Alex again. 

The door opened quietly as he turned the handle, the soft click of the hinges doing little to disturb the occupants of the room, and the softly spoken words floating out from inside left him reluctant to enter. As he lingered in the doorway, he could hear Guerin talking to Alex again, gentle encouragements for him to open his eyes or squeeze his hand again. 

He could see Alex from where he stood and it was only as he noticed the tiny furrow of his brow that had been absent for so long, that he registered Guerin’s words.

Again.

Kyle felt his heart in his throat as he realised what he was watching. The scrunch of his nose, the ever so slightly pursed lips. Was Alex really, finally waking up?

He stepped further into the room, eager to be ready in case his patient needed him but found himself pausing before he got too close. His heart was racing now in anticipation but a small part of him – the part that had witnessed this exact situation so many times at the hospital over the years – begged him not to get his hopes up. 

That begged him to tell Guerin not to get his hopes up.

It had been so long since they had brought a deceased Alex back to Roswell, a small part of him had never really believed that their end goal would be achieved. That this had been the best they were ever going to get. But it seemed the universe had actually answered their prayers.

Alex’s eyes opened slowly, his unfocused gaze lazily searching the ceiling above him before drifting to the right to land on Guerin. For a moment, there was no sign of recognition, just two dark eyes staring at a stranger in front of him and then— Alex smiled. A frail, pitiful excuse for a smile, the corners of his lips turning up just a fraction. But honestly, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Guerin was too caught up in the moment to notice Kyle’s intrusion. He was standing now, one hand still wrapped around Alex’s as he squeezed it tight, beaming grin on his face as he let the tears freely stain his skin. His other ran soothingly through Alex’s hair, and he bent forward to press wet and teary kisses against his temple, whispering grateful reassurances too low for Kyle to make out.

Alex could barely keep his eyes open as he tried to accept the sudden outpouring of love, but his smile couldn’t help but grow. His hand lifted from the bed but, lacking the strength to get far enough to reach Guerin, it came to rest weakly on his chest and Kyle wondered if maybe the physical touches weren’t the only thing he was feeling.

He watched as Alex slowly ran his thumb back and forth over the spot at the centre of his ribs — the spot where an alien handprint had been etched into his skin a few days prior – and wondered if maybe he could feel Guerin’s very soul crying out in relief. If the celestial bond that Guerin had been desperate to feel had finally snapped into place.  

He had been trying to ignite it since he resurrected Alex, questioning Liz and Max on how it worked for them— how he could use it to bring Alex back to them. But each time he tried, there had been nothing. A dark emptiness where a rush of emotions should be. He’d beaten himself up about that, convinced he had done something wrong. Convinced that he had failed Alex.

But Kyle had never believed that. 

It had been hard to see Alex so lifeless for so damn long, flashes of a future without him spurring them on and pushing them to the limit. But watching him now, him and Guerin, Kyle’s heart was almost bursting with relief.

On the darker days when it had been too much for Guerin, when the outcome they’d longed for had been but an impossible notion and he had struggled to see even the dimmest light at the end of the tunnel, Kyle had tried his best to keep the hope alive. For Guerin. For Alex. For all of them. 

But watching them now, foreheads touching and fingers intertwined, he didn’t need to cling onto that hope anymore.

The doctor in him was desperate to check on his patient but he forced himself to hold back. This precious moment was the least they deserved and it would do neither of them any good for him to break it.

So he let them hold each other for a minute longer. And as he watched on with a full heart and teary eyes, he finally let himself take a breath.

[gaymasonjar]

Will You Meet Me In The Middle?

Preview of Chapter 7: Sanctuary

 It was late in the morning when they crossed the border to their home state. Bags packed into the back of the truck and a small cooler up front with snacks for the road. It had taken them two days between stopping at gas stations and switching up who drove. Monday morning light was shining on them as they crossed through New Mexico. They were less than an hour out from the city limits of Roswell.

 The radio was blasting music that Alex was humming along to. His eyes were focused on the passing landscape, the wind blowing his hair around since the windows were rolled down. Michael had his left hand wrapped around Alex’s thigh as he drove.

 Alex’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, noticing the new notification. It was an email from the photographer. He opened it excitedly. There were nearly 100 good photos that were edited. They looked      amazing    , perfect even.

 “Oh, my god.”

 Michael glanced at him, “What’s up?”

 “I got the photos back from Dawn- they’re amazing Michael.”

 He scooted over on the bench seat to get closer to his husband. Michael glanced down at the phone periodically as Alex swiped through the pictures. He tightened his grip on Alex’s leg; neither noticing the soft glow from his hand.

 “Incredible…who knew we both cleaned up so well?”

 Alex laughed lightly, “I’m printing these out to put up around the house.”

 “All of them? Might as well turn them into a collage and past it like wallpaper.”

 “Some of them I’ll print for hanging, the rest is going in our first album.”

 Michael raised his eyebrows, “Alex Guerin, are you telling me that we’re starting our first photo album?”

 “I think so.”

 “God, I love you so much.”

 “I can tell”, Alex pressed his hand over the spot on his chest where Michael had left the first handprint. “I can      feel     it. It’s intense.”

 “Cosmic”, Michael corrected cheekily.

 “Cosmic”, Alex agreed before resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. “We should stop at the Wild Pony before we go to the house, and get some lunch.”

 “Sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”

 Alex looked down at his phone, flipping through the pictures again and again. The smile never left his face. He never thought it possible to be so in love and so happy. After choosing his favorite picture- the one of him and Michael laughing as they sat on the back of the car and the cathedral was behind them- he set it as his new lock screen.

 “I think my new IDs should be arriving in the mail soon”, Alex stated as he adjusted the radio volume. “I left the paperwork with Maria before we left so hopefully she remembered to mail it off for me.”

 “Eager to drop the Manes name?”

 “You know it. It’s the last thing my father gave me and I’m ready to part with it.”

 Michael squeezed his thigh, “Now Kyle can just look at us collectively when he’s mad and call us both Guerin.”

 A smirk crossed his face as he imagined it. “‘Guerin! You guys need to wait a minute to actually think this through!’”

 He laughed at his husband’s impression of the doctor. “Exactly.”

 “Husband privileges.”

 “Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

 “Well, it’s certainly not a disadvantage.”

 Michael chuckled.

 The ‘Welcome to Roswell’ sign had come and gone. The Wild Pony was up ahead. Michael parked the truck in the busy parking lot. After placing his cowboy hat securely on his head, he led Alex by the hand into the establishment. Most of the tables were crowded with the lunch rush traffic.

 Maria Deluca was working behind the bar. Hoop earrings, pink tank top, curls, and all. She was pouring beers for her customers, not paying attention to her newest ones. Michael and Alex grabbed the two stools at the end of the bar and waited patiently. Maria swept down toward them with menus in hand. She placed them down in front of them before she even lifted her gaze.

 “Welcome in, what can I start you wi-” Maria’s eyes widened in surprise before she squealed. She ran around the bar to hug both of them at once. “You’re back!”

 “Honeymoons don’t last forever, unfortunately”, Michael joked.

 “Tell me EVERYTHING”, Maria paused. “Okay, maybe not everything but I want details! How was it? Where did you go?”

 “San Diego”, Alex supplied. “Beautiful beaches. It was so relaxing.”

 Maria rounded back behind the bar as she wiggled her eyebrows, “I’m sure not THAT relaxing.”

 “I’m not giving you details on our sexcapades.”

 Michael snorted and rubbed a hand down his face.

 Maria fake pouted before she leaned forward. “I saw the video, very cute.”

 “We also took pictures while we were out there.”

 “I HAVE to see those.”

 “After we get a drink”, Michael interrupted. “Long drive.”

 “Oh, of course, one second.”

 Maria went to fill two glasses of beer for her friends, knowing what they regularly drank while in her establishment. Alex pulled the pictures up on his phone while she was busy with that. Once the beers were set down, she leaned across the bar eagerly. Her jaw dropped as she scrolled through the pictures.

 “You guys are sooooo hot- I love these!”

 “We had a really good photographer”, Alex supplied.

 “Wait- oh my god, those are the sweatshirts that Isobel made you while Alex was in the hospital. How cute!”

 Michael sipped his beer, “Honestly as dorky as they are, they’re very comfortable. And I like that everyone can just read it and know. No questions. This man belongs to me.”

 Alex grabbed his free hand and kissed the back of it. “We belong to each other.”

 “Ugh, stop. You guys are adorable”, Maria stated as she waved her hand at her face.

 Michael chuckled at her antics, “So did we miss anything while we were gone for nearly three weeks?”

 “Well. Max and Dallas are still gone. No word about that. Isobel and Kyle finally stopped dancing around each other. Oh, and Liz has kinda just thrown herself back into her work.”

 Alex frowned, “Really?”

 Maria nodded as she fidgeted with her necklace pendant, “Yea. She’s still trying to get her brain back to the speed it was before the whole alien mist fiasco. And I don’t think she wants to process that her fiance is on the other side of the universe. Bit much for her.”

 “I know how hard that can feel”, the brunette glanced at his husband. “It was bad enough being trapped in another dimension.”

 “They’ll come back”, Michael said. “The control panel still functions, it just needs fuel. I’m sure it’s easier to get it on Oasis than it is on Earth.”

 Alex hummed in agreement as he pulled out a pill bottle from his jacket. He poured a few into his hand before taking them. Maria glanced at him as he did. Alex was still prescribed to take Prussian Blue to fight off any remaining radiation left from his time spent in the other dimension. He was due for another checkup with Valenti now that they were back in New Mexico.

 “So, how have you been feeling?”

 “Honestly, really good”, Alex promised as he sipped his drink. “Haven’t noticed any side effects.”

 “Good- Kyle will be happy to hear that, he’s been worried about you.”

 “I would’ve let him know if anything was wrong.”

 “You know how he is.” Maria flipped her curls back over her shoulder, “He carries more stress than anyone should.”

 “If he knows what’s good for him, he should think about working for Deep Sky”, Michael interrupted.

 “He’s a doctor Michael, he wants to help people”, Maria scolded.

 “Yea but he’s also the only alien doctor we’ve got. Deep Sky can provide equipment and materials that he doesn’t need to steal from the hospital.”

 “I can talk to him about it. I know his uncle wouldn’t be against it”, Alex agreed. “I have to see him this week anyway.”

 “Deep Sky creeps me out”, Maria muttered.

 “Why?”

 “It’s a secret organization. Can you really trust that it’s completely good?”

 “No”, Alex tapped his glass with his finger. “But you can’t really trust anything- military, government, local or federal. The world isn’t as black and white as people wish it was.”

 Michael snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

 “I just worry too, 'cause ya know, I’m like that”, Maria stated. “Anyway! Lunch is on me, what are we thinking, boys?”

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45325099/chapters/114787342

[websterss]

IF YOU HAD STAYED — MICHAEL GUERIN

SUMMARY: You run into Michael after you told yourself you wouldn't sleep with him.

WARNING(S): angsty, fluff

WORD COUNT: 1,804

PAIRING: Michael Guerin x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

“Shouldn’t you be aiding and abetting Max out on a stake or something?” You had been taken by Michael’s sudden voice.

“Shouldn’t you be drowning yourself in alcohol right about now?” You quip back, holding onto your weapon belt. Michael grins, appreciating the retort, and crosses his arms.

“You know I prefer the term self-medicating.”

“If that’s what you want to call getting shit-faced with tequila…”

“I call it a necessary evil.” His smirk widens, amused by your banter. “Besides, it helps me forget certain things.”

“If only alcohol were strong enough to make me forget a few things.” Your eyes take in Michael as he is perched on one of the bar stools. Your thoughts wander back to last Saturday, when your hands and eyes had wandered off and onto Michael at the bar.

Michael's facial expression drops, almost instantly, noticing the slight change in your demeanor. Nothing quite fit for a deputy on duty. He can see the timidness and embarrassment in your eyes, and it reminds him of the way you looked at him that day at the bar and after. He swallows, trying to drown the lump forming in his throat.

“What sort of things?” He clears his throat.

"I'm not doing this with you Guerin." You bite back a smirk as you get ready to turn and leave. A faint smirk on your lips as you try to avoid the big elephant in the room. More so what occurred between you and him.

“Hey, no. Stop. Hold on.” He grabs your wrist, holding you back from turning away. He looks from your eyes to his hand on your wrist, realizing that he’s holding onto you more gently than usual.

“I won’t push.” He finally says. “But we’ve got to talk about this eventually. You don’t get to come at me like that and then walk away. We had sex, the thing we told each other we wouldn't let happen...happened."

"Great, you've acknowledged it. I've acknowledged it. Good talk!" You give him a tight-lipped grin as you take his hand off your arm. But he doesn't quit while he can. “Gotta head back…”

“No, not good talk. I want to talk about it.” Michael pushes further, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to keep you from walking away again. He keeps his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, I don't, tough luck cowboy…" You dip his hat in front of his eyes, he groans as he lifts it and sees you seconds from leaving the diner. You halt in your exit when the deadbolt clicks into place. You turn in time to see Michael lower his hand. He had locked the front entrance with his mind. "Really?"

“Only way to get you to talk to me.” Michael says matter-of-factly.

"By locking me in and holding me against my will… yeah cause that's totally gonna sway me." You roll your eyes as you move across the diner.

“Where are you going?” Michael follows you, watching you pace around the diner.

"Away from you." You exclaim, but there's truly no other place to go.

“Too bad." Michael smirks, as he watches you sit in the furthest booth from him and turn your gaze to the windows.

He sits down in the booth in front of you, leaning forward and placing his arms on the table. He stares at you from across the table, studying you, and thinking about the best way to approach this conversation.

“How long do you plan on giving me the silent treatment for?” He asks you after a moment of silence. "Right? Hey, I have a question." He rests his back against the red cushion.

"No." You answer him curtly your gaze still turned.

“You didn’t even hear the question.” He chuckles a bit at your stubbornness. He’s trying to stay lighthearted about the situation so that he doesn’t screw this up. "Whatever I'm still asking?"

“Why did you leave so quickly that night? I woke up, you were gone, and I didn’t know if I had done something…” He shakes his head, as the memories come flooding back. “Do you regret it?” He finally asks, his serious tone bringing your gaze back to him. Your eyes are locked on his, and you can feel the heat rising up to your cheeks, remembering his lingering kisses and appraisals in his trailer.

You give him a faint shake of your head, and then a faint. "No."

He lets out a small sigh of relief. He was hoping that you didn't regret it because God knows he didn't. “Then what was it?” He asks you, his tone still serious. “Why’d you leave?”

You don’t answer him, and he reaches out from across the table, taking hold of your hand. He runs his thumb over the back of it gently. He’s been craving to touch you again ever since the morning he woke up in his trailer and realized you were gone.

"It's stupid, really. I didn't- I talked with Maria and Alex when you walked into the bar. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I didn't want to get my hopes up. Didn't want to be lured by the Michael Guerin charm and only get to experience it for one night…" Your eyes fleet up to meet his then you look away again.

Michael’s lips parted, processing your words, shocked that you had felt that way. He swallows hard and gently squeezes your hand. “You think that that’s all that would’ve been to me? A meaningless one-night stand?”

"Can you blame a girl, Guerin?"

He lets out a quiet chuckle, mostly because he knows that he shouldn’t blame you for thinking that. After all, it’s not like his reputation precedes him, in the sense that he slept with a lot of women and rarely saw them again.

“No, I guess I can’t...” He says, gently rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Is that what you think of me though? You think I’m that 'charm them into bed' type and ditch them the next?” He asks, his frown growing. "Because you'd be wrong…" He leans back in his seat again, keeping his eyes connected with yours. "You know I don't do relationships because I thought they'd be too complicated and messy. Too much to juggle with life. But lately…" His voice trails off, realizing that whatever was happening between you was a lot more than he anticipated.

"Lately…?" You press.

He smiles a little and shakes his head. “Lately I’m starting to realize that maybe it wouldn’t be so complicated and messy.” His eyes meet yours, and he doesn’t shy away from you. He keeps them there, holding your gaze, hoping that you’ll see the sincerity in them. “Lately, I'm starting to realize I've been cutting myself off from something good, just out of fear and selflessness and... a whole lot of other bullshit I won't get into right now." He breathes out a laugh. "Lately, I’m wondering what would happened if you hadn’t left that morning. That if I had woken up to you that morning and not an empty bed, nothing would have made me send you away.”

"Oh yeah…" You breathe out a faint laugh. Tears brimming your waterline.

His grip on your hand tightens. "Yeah..." He nods in reassurance. “Those are happy tears, right?” He teases, trying to keep a straight face, despite what he’s feeling stirup in his heart.

You muster a nod,

“I need to hear it.” He tells you. “Please.” He softly shakes his head. He needs you to confirm it because he doesn’t want you to be upset. He runs the pad of his thumb along your lower lip as he waits for your answer, wanting to wipe the tears away.

"Yes Michael...they're happy tears."

“Good.” He breathes out.

His fingers continue to trace your lower lip, and he swallows, trying to keep himself together. But being this close to you, looking down at you, and touching you again was making his heart pound violently in his chest, begging him to pull you up and into his arms.

He gently takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so that he can tilt your head up as he moves in closer, his face inches away from yours. He can feel the heat of your breath and the way your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. He can feel the warmth of your skin and the racing of your heartbeat. It’s all so perfect, and he can’t help himself as he closes the gap, his lips pressing against yours.

You melt into the kiss with a big sigh.

Michael can feel you soften in his hold, and the sound of your sigh is like music to his ears. He deepens the kiss, his hand tilting your face so he can kiss you more fully. He can feel the need for you growing, and he has to mentally restrain himself from fully pulling you down onto the diner floor and taking you right there and then.

During your makeout session, you hear the click of the deadbolt inserting in and out of the strike plate causing you to let out a soft laugh. You pull back as Michael chases after you to continue your kiss. He had unmindedly locked and unlocked the door. "We should leave. I don't think Mr. Ortecho will take kindly to us christening his booths." Another giggle escapes you.

“I'll be extra quiet then…” Michael mutters out but reluctantly peels himself away from you. He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together, not wanting to lose the feeling of being close to you. As he helps you out of the booth. “Alright. Come on, we have somewhere to be anyway.” He leads you to the door, pushing the handle down to open it. Before he walks past the threshold, he turns to peck your lips once more.

"Go. Go." You grin as you push against his chest to get him and you out of the diner.

“Yes, boss.” He chuckles but lets himself be pushed out of the diner. His hand raises the top of your head and ruffles your strands playfully as you both step out into the evening air.

He keeps on walking while his hand grips you as if to anchor you to his side. He's not taking any chances this time.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

it has dawn on me that like, that image I had of Michael with lots of curls and all is absolutely due to seeing Michael Guerin from that show Roswell New Mexico on my dash here and there. Associations have been made. looking at that guy a bit closer and i'm like "yeah tho. that is Michael even if i imagined him a bit more gangly"

[alienidentities-f22a]

Fan Work Analysis Post

This is a YouTube fan edit music video about Michael Guerin and Alex Manes’ relationship. The song is This is Me Trying by Taylor swift.  It shows the ups and downs and problems in the relationship followed by clips of them being together and trying to work everything out. The fan work depicts the evolution of Michael and Alex’s relationship over the course of the show. In doing so, the video shows the imperfections of Michael and Alex’s relationship. By following each lyric with a matching clip, the work is able to accomplish it. The video is very well done, it is far better than I could have imagined a fan work could be.

Had someone never watched Roswell New Mexico, it would just seem like a mash up of clips shipping two characters together. However, the creator artfully weaves together the past and present to show evolution. The fan work changes to a black and white overlay filter when showing clips of the past in high school where there were no problems and the two of them ruled the world. The black and white sections mostly take place during instrumental moments. The beauty of the music frames this time of their lives as perfect. In contrast, this also portrays the color (more current) parts as imperfect.

The video opens with the struggles, confusion, changes, and fear that Michael and Alex face. It shows them separately intercepted by clips of their past. As a whole, the piece relies heavily on imagery as evidence, using the lyrics to fit as puzzle pieces. One lyric says “I had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting” which is accompanied by Alex knocking on his metal leg. In the time since the past black and white clips, Alex has become disabled which changes how he interacts with the world around him. Not only have Alex and Michael’s minds changed but their bodies have changed as well. Despite being an alien, Michael has human emotions and a human relationship with Alex. This video takes into account the imperfection of Michael that gives him humanity rather than focusing on his physical abilities.

In the end, it shows them together. The clip of them breaking down the walls of the shed is a good start to the continuation of their relationship. The video is not trying to say that their relationship is perfect, or that one single action, like Alex singing or them deciding to break down the shed, will cause finite perfection for the future. Life is full of struggle and problems and a myopic view causes one to solve a problem and expect it to be the last. “This is Me Trying” shows that things will keep coming their way and they will have moments of discourse but their love is what causes them to keep trying and pull through to live another day as a couple. They are trying to break down the barriers that continue to separate them from each other and move on.

[procrastinatorimagines]

[bisexualalienblast]

for @goodthingsarenteasytoget

[pastelwitchling]

Hi :) Would you (or did you already) write a fic where we get to see Kyle fussing over Alex when he takes him to Deep Sky after rescuing him from the pocket dimension?

***

“If you say you’re fine, Manes, I swear to God—”

“I’m not going to say I’m fine,” Alex chuckled, and even then the sound was choked with pain. Alex tried to smile, but the dark veins over his heart had spread too far up his neck and almost to one elbow. He looked pale and sickly and—Kyle couldn’t help but think it—wrong.

Alex Manes didn’t look sick and weak. Alex Manes didn’t lie on a hospital bed without the strength it took to hold Michael’s hand as his gripped the bedside railing with enough strength to bend it.

“You can fix this, right?” Michael demanded, his other hand surprisingly gentle as it brushed Alex’s bangs back and brushed the shell of his ear. “You can—you can fix it?”

Even with his eyes fluttering and his breaths quiet and shallow, Alex blindly reached up to cover Michael’s hand with his own. Michael gripped it with no small amount of relief.

“Fix radiation poisoning?” Kyle demanded. He was lucky they were in Deep Sky’s headquarters, or his answer would’ve been a determined but very delusional “Hell, yeah!” As it stood, he knew there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t try for his best friend, and this place was the place to try anything, which was why he was already pulling on his surgical gloves and prepping the tools he’d need for what was sure to be a long few hours. “Damn right I can.”

“Brave,” Alex grinned wearily. “I like that.”

“You’re brave,” Kyle argued. “I’m desperate.” He heaved a frustrated sigh as he pulled down Alex’s shirt collar. The damage was far worse than he’d imagined, and he hoped his face didn’t show it. But Alex chuckled.

“Just say it,” he murmured. “I know it’s bad.”

“It’s not bad,” he said at once. “It’s just not great.” He shut his eyes, his frustration mounting the longer Alex calmly laid there like he was suffering no more than a fever. It was driving Kyle crazy. “Why . . . Alex, you . . .”

Alex studied him carefully with half-lidded eyes, and even in his dazed state, he managed to see right through him because he told Michael, “Guerin, leave the room, please.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “Not a chance in hell, Alex.”

Alex sighed. “I don’t think you want to hear whatever Kyle has to say. Please, just go.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he glared.

“Better late than never,” Kyle said before he could help himself.

Michael glared, but looked unsurprised. Apparently, he’d seen the anger brewing on Kyle’s face for a while, too. “Spit it out, Valenti. I need you focused on healing Alex, so whatever’s in the way, get it out now.”

“Fine,” Kyle said, gripping the railing if only to keep from grabbing Michael and shaking him. “Where was this care and attention when Alex actually needed it? He’s only this far gone because you took your sweet time getting to him, so why wasn’t he more important when it mattered?!”

“Kyle,” Alex tried.

“No, Alex, no,” he cut him off. “No more damn excuses! You were stuck in a hole and where was your boyfriend? Playing super spy with the other aliens! Oh, but it’s okay, because he felt really bad about not realizing that it was weird you never checked in or called or answered his texts. And when we found out where you were, was that finally enough to get him to care? No, because one word from Max or Maria or Liz, and he was happy waiting on the damn sidelines for you to find your own way out, right? You were trapped in another world because everyone knew how important you were to him, and he was having a beer with Maria in front of a fire! You could’ve been dying for all anyone knew and”—he barked a humorless laugh—“hell, you were! And he still wanted to wait it out!”

He turned his tear-filled glare on Michael, every ounce of grief for his friend shining in the shake of his voice as he pointed at him with a trembling finger and said, “I won’t let him die, I won’t let anything happen to him, but when he comes out of this unscathed, it sure as hell won’t be because of you.”

Alex couldn’t seem to look at him, and Michael couldn’t seem to look away. But where Alex’s expression was tired and weak, Michael’s was furious and . . . miserable. He opened and closed his mouth several times like the words refused to leave him. “Feel better?”

His voice was so broken that Alex frowned, but Kyle thought it was only fair. At least he was now the one who was suffering under the weight of what he’d done to the man he loved.

“Not yet,” he heaved. Then, “I know you love Alex. But I stand by what I said before this whole mess. Alex has been trying and trying to reach out to you long before he ever got lost, and this was when he needed you to try back, and you didn’t. He is in here because you didn’t care enough to try. And I hope this moment haunts you for the rest of your life, Guerin, because if that’s what it takes for you to actually show how you feel about my best friend, then I’ll take it.

“There,” he huffed. “Now I feel better.”

Michael nodded and finally tore his gaze away and as he did, a tear rolled down his cheek, silencing Kyle at once. He brushed back Alex’s bangs and pressed a trembling kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to go catch the son of a bitch that did this, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Guerin?” Alex tried, but was too weak to lift his head.

Michael pressed another kiss to his cheek, then his knuckles, before he gently set his hand down on the bed. “I’ll be right back, Private.”

He kept his eyes on Alex as long as he could, and then he turned and was out the door. Alex sighed, eyes shut. “Kyle, this wasn’t Michael’s fault.”

                Kyle shook his head, pulling the overhead light closer. Alex would need to go under soon, and Kyle kept telling himself that he would wake back up.

                “You get to expect bad things from bad people, Manes,” he said simply. “That doesn’t apply to the man you love. Now look at me, count back from ten, and try to relax.”

                *

                Michael had been careful about not venturing too far from Deep Sky during Alex’s surgery, in case he was needed. Not five minutes after he’d gotten the text from Kyle that the operation had gone well was Michael bursting through the automatic doors faster than they could open, his shoulder slamming into the glass and making it rattle.

                “Where is he?” he demanded at once to Kyle when he found him the hall. “How is he? Can I see him? He’s fine, right? He’s fine?”

                Kyle sighed, the relief coloring his voice as he said, “He’s fine,” he confirmed, and tilted his head at the door a few feet behind him. “He’s still asleep. You can see him, and he’ll be in pain for a few days, but the prototype serum worked. He’s clean.”

                Michael moved past him to the door, stopped, and without turning to face him said, “I love him more than anything, you know.”

                “I know,” he confirmed, and put his hands in his pockets, smirking faintly. “And he knows. He still deserves to see it.”

                Michael swallowed, not knowing what to say to that, and went into Alex’s room to find him fast asleep, head turned to the side and hair splayed against his pillow. Alex still looked tired, his brows pinched in pain, but the heaviness of the radiation poisoning was gone from his expression, and the sickly yellow of his face had faded.

                Now that Michael was in front of him, his steps slowed. He couldn’t help but think about his Alex and the time he’d spent in the liminal space. How many nights, how many hours or minutes or however much time he dared, not knowing if he would wake up again, did he sleep just like this? Terrified and knowing he couldn’t let it take over? Clinging to the hope that Michael was doing whatever it took to get him back? To save him? When had he started giving that hope up?

                “You plan on staring at me all day?” Alex murmured, and opened his eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips, and the way he looked at Michael loosened something in his chest. Michael released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and closed the distance between them in under a second, taking Alex’s face in his hands and smothering his cheeks and eyes and forehead and nose and lips with kisses.

                “Mmh—Guerin,” Alex tried, his voice colored with tired laughter, the only sign that Michael at least wasn’t hurting him. “I’m okay.”

                Michael pressed his forehead to Alex’s temple, heaving a long, shaky breath. “You’re okay,” he whispered, reminding himself, one hand on Alex’s arm, the other on his head, holding on with a bruising grip. “Y-You’re okay. You’re okay, baby.”

                “You’re okay, too,” Alex chuckled. “Breathe.”

                Michael swallowed, unwilling to move away from Alex’s cool touch, his vanilla scent. One of Alex’s hands was on his hip, his thumb brushing his waist as if to calm him. Like Michael was the one who’d spent endless weeks alone, fighting every day with nothing but wit and bare strength to stay alive, and then almost dying in a strange place anyway.

                Michael pulled back just far enough to drag a chair in as close to Alex’s bed as he could manage and sat down, both his hands gripping one of Alex’s tightly, his lips brushing Alex’s knuckles.

                “Let’s get married,” he said. “Right now. I can call Dallas, Isobel and Max could be here in under ten minutes, Gregory will make it to the afterparty and—”

                “Gregory’s caught up at the reservation,” Alex grinned into his pillow, “and I think your brother needs at least a minute to breathe after everything.”

                “I want to marry you,” Michael said, and winced at how much it sounded like an argument to his own ears. But he really didn’t care. “I want to marry you right now. I want you to be mine—”

                “I already am.”

                “—and I want to be yours—”

                “There was never any question of that.”

                He clenched his jaw. “This isn’t funny, Alex,” he said, his eyes burning. “I almost lost you, don’t you get that?”

                “And you think us getting married this very second is going to keep us safe from the reality of our own lives?” he scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

                “Would you stop?” Michael demanded, the tears falling in big fat drops before he could process them. “Stop acting like what happened to you was okay.”

                Alex shut his eyes. “It wasn’t okay, Michael, but I’m used to near-death experiences, it’s hardly anything new.”

                “I don’t want your life with me to be another near-death experience!” he snapped, and silence fell over their heads. Michael stared Alex down, fury and desperation surging through every inch of him, and yet when he tried to speak again, his voice came out as no louder than a breath.

                “I should’ve known something was wrong,” he said. “I should’ve known that you’d check in that first night or—or that you’d at least text me. I should’ve known you’d answer my calls and want to hear my voice, and I ignored all the warning signs because I didn’t want anything to be wrong.”

                He huffed, wiping his face roughly with his forearm. “I was such a coward . . . I was so scared about—about chasing you away again or . . . realizing that you just didn’t care enough to talk to me . . . that it wasn’t bothering you being away like it was bothering me . . . that I left you to die.” He grit his teeth. “So, please, don’t laugh it off, don’t pretend I didn’t hurt you, don’t tell me that it’s fine, Alex, because it’s not fine.”

                Alex considered him. Then he smiled softly, and said, “I spent every minute . . . of every day . . . waiting for you.” Michael tensed. “When I couldn’t walk anymore, I prayed I’d wake up to your face. I was so sure that you knew I was missing that first hour I didn’t check in.” He chuckled miserably. “I hoped you missed me the minute I left and tried to call me. And when I found out how long it had taken till you even knew . . . and then how much longer afterward? It broke my heart.”

                He inhaled shakily, his smile dimming as a single tear rolled down the bridge of his nose. “The worst part of it was that in that truck, when we were together . . . I figured that after everything I’d done to you . . . I deserved to be abandoned for a while. Get a taste of my own medicine.”

                “Alex,” Michael stood at once, and with such force that his chair fell backwards.

                “I know,” Alex shut his eyes. “Guerin, I know. But I knew I was dying and that my time with you was on the clock, and you have to let me get a little morbid. Even if, looking back at it now, I know it was stupid.”

                “Beyond stupid!” he argued. “Unbelievably stupid!” Against his better judgement, he climbed onto the bed and hovered over Alex, pinning his wrists to the bed. “Doubt whatever you want, Private, but never me. Never how I feel for you.” He cupped Alex’s jaw, his heart expanding painfully in his chest as Alex’s eyes fluttered at his touch and he turned into his palm. “I love you, and I’m going to spend the rest of our lives showing you. No more doubt, no more fear, no more anything against what we want for either of us. Not ever again, Manes.”

                The sparkle in Alex’s eyes was like lightning to Michael’s heart. “Guerin,” he breathed, reaching up to wrap his arms around Michael’s neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Their lips were inches apart, a breath—

                “HEY!” Kyle snapped. “Get off my patient!”

                Michael, ignoring Kyle, rested his body over Alex’s and hugged him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Against Alex’s collarbone, he said, “He wants me to kiss him, leave us alone.”

                “Guerin, he’s recovering!” Kyle argued, running up to Michael and yanking uselessly on his arm. The benefits of alien powers. “Oh my—your horny ass is not my problem, you insane alien cowboy freak, GET OFF HIM!”

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤

[manesalex]

nothing starts without you (we become the stories we’ve always wanted): chapter 2/3

When Alex’s former bandmate, Rosa Ortecho, asks him to write a song to help kickstart her solo career, Alex finds himself struggling to write anything at all. Until, that is, he meets Michael Guerin. Or, a loose Music and Lyrics AU. for @alex-guerin @malexsanta​

Warnings for suggestive comments, references to past abuse, and references to addiction. Not Maria Deluca friendly.

***

Isobel is talking about her latest terrible date, but all Michael can think about is Alex Manes and that offer he had made.

It’s not a good idea, Michael knows that. It’s just that a part of him wants to take the opportunity to spend more time with Alex. To get to know this man who seems so very different from the guitarist he remembers Isobel having so much interest in a few years ago.

“And then she had the audacity to–” Isobel stops, turning her attention to him. “You know, usually you at least pretend to be interested in the horrors of dating in Roswell.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just distracted. There’s this guy I’m working for and–”

Unsurprisingly, that’s all it takes to make Isobel focus all of her attention on him. “A guy? Please tell me he’s hot.”

“It’s not like that,” Michael objects instantly, well aware that he’s lying. He’s never seen anyone as gorgeous as Alex. He remembers thinking as much when his band had been a big deal years ago, even if their music wasn’t his type. And he’s somehow even hotter in person. But that isn’t a good idea. After all, there’s a good reason he’s been avoiding serious relationships for the past few years. And Michael is absolutely certain he’d never be able to just have something casual with someone like Alex.

Isobel frowns, looking disappointed. “Then what is it like?”

“He asked me to help him with lyrics to a song he’s trying to write for his old bandmate.”

“You’re not talking about– Michael, are you working for Alex Manes?!” Isobel is absolutely giddy at the prospect. Michael doesn’t answer, but the look on his face is enough to confirm it to her. “Okay, first of all, it most definitely is like that because I’ve seen the way you watched those music videos with me and Alex Manes is fucking gorgeous.”

“Okay, fine, he’s hot,” Michael admits. It’s not just that though. There’s something about Alex that makes Michael absolutely certain that his beauty isn’t just surface level.

Isobel is smiling like that cat that ate the proverbial canary, “Yeah, he is. And you’re going to say yes to him and tell me all about it.”

“It’s not a good idea, Isobel. You know what happened with–”

Isobel sounds positively murderous at the reminder, “Yeah, well she doesn’t have an ounce of integrity in her body.” She pauses for a moment before saying, “Alex is different. He may have written some fabulously bitchy lyrics, but– You remember when he was outed? All the things they said about him in the press?”

Michael nods.

“He never once went after anyone. Just disappeared. And, honestly, he should have at least ruined his brother’s life because what kind of person does that to their brother?”

Michael doesn’t have an answer. He can’t imagine hurting Isobel, Max, or Dallas like that. Or any of them doing that to him.

“Anyway, you should talk to him, Michael,” Isobel urges. “You were a really good writer. And I know it meant a lot to you. You shouldn’t let Maria ruin that for you forever. And I think Alex would understand. Plus,” she adds with a grin. “How fucking cool would it be to have Rosa Ortecho singing something you’ve written?”

***

When Michael arrives the next morning, Alex hasn’t gotten any further on the song he’s failing to write.

He expects Michael to get straight to work, but, instead, Michael stops directly in front of him. “You toured with Maria Deluca, right?”

It’s an odd question and seems entirely out of nowhere, but Alex just nods, “Our last tour as a band.” It hadn’t exactly gone well and Alex suspects that Maria had something to do with some of that, but he can’t exactly prove she had released those pictures of Rosa to the public.

“And what did you think of her?”

“Just between you and me?” Alex asks for confirmation. He’s not looking to poke that particular hornet’s nest. Michael just nods, so Alex takes a deep breath and says, “She seemed nice. At first. But then… I don’t trust her. Some stuff happened and, while some of it might just be a coincidence, I don’t think she’s as sweet as her public image would suggest.”

Michael sits down across from Alex before saying, “I dated her. Maybe about a year before she released her first album. Not that she’d admit it.

“I used to write music. All the time. She did too. So I wasn’t surprised when she got a record deal. I was excited for her. I didn’t even think it was weird that she didn’t want me to visit her in the studio or anything. After all, she never introduced me to her family.” He looks defensive, angry, like he’s expecting Alex to dismiss it. Or worse, agree with that decision. “She was ashamed of me. And it’s not like she didn’t have reasons to be.”

Alex wants to argue with that, but he thinks Michael just needs to tell this story without interruptions.

“Anyway, we broke up about a month before her first single came out. And, when it came out–” he takes a deep breath, looking Alex right in the eye. “I wrote it. Turns out I wrote most of the songs on her album.”

“She stole your songs,” Alex says softly.

“Not that I can prove it,” Michael shrugs.

Alex nods, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Michael, however, looks completely shocked. “You believe me?”

“Yeah,” Alex shrugs. “I was dating this guy when we were touring. I mean, I still wasn’t out, not to the general public, but… Everyone on the tour knew. And about halfway through the tour– He started dating her.” He pauses before saying, “I mean, that’s– I get it. I was a closeted, disabled queer man. Not exactly a prize. Maria didn’t have any of that baggage. But then Rosa made some shady comments about it onstage one night and– I, um, I think Maria released those pics of Rosa partying on our last tour. I can’t prove it, but she went out with her every night and… She wasn’t in a single one of them.” He takes a breath, “Anyway, I don’t think what she did to you would be out of character for her. But I’m sorry she did that to you. And, for the record, she shouldn’t have treated you like she was ashamed of you either.”

“Thanks,” Michael’s voice is surprisingly soft. And then he clears his throat before saying, “Anyway, Isobel suggested I tell you about it.” He pauses a moment, “I’d really like to try to write something with you. I just..” he shrugs, gets up. “I’ll get to work.”

“I could get my lawyer to write up a contract, if you’d like. I mean, Rosa wouldn’t steal your work. I wouldn’t do it either. But I could have Noah put something together so you’d have that security.” He’s angry on Michael’s behalf, that Maria stole his work. His songs were good. Far better than anything on Maria’s second album. And Michael deserves to have his talent recognized. If he wants it. If Alex can give this to him.

“I’d like that.”

***

Writing with Alex is easier than Michael could have imagined. It’s almost like it’s instinctive. He’ll write something and Alex will follow with a change to the tune that fits it perfectly. Or vice versa. He loses track of time and only realizes they’ve been working together for hours when his stomach growls loud enough for both of them to hear.

Not too long after that, they’re seated at the Crashdown and the owner, Arturo, is dropping off burgers, fries, and milkshakes at their table.

“You should go see Rosa,” Arturo says, seemingly out of nowhere.

“She’s in town?” Alex asks, sounding surprised.

“Just for the rest of the day. She’s getting ready for a hometown concert and said she wanted to tour the venue.”

Michael just listens as Alex continues to talk with Arturo, surprised by how Alex seems perfectly at ease with him.

Until, that is, Arturo walks away and Alex explains, “Arturo is Rosa’s dad. I met his younger daughter, Liz, in elementary school. She’s off in Denver doing some medical thing that is far too complicated for me to follow.” Michael very much doubts that. From what he’s seen of Alex, he’s far smarter than most people would probably expect. Alex continues, “Arturo was one of the few adults in Roswell who always gave me somewhere to stay when I was scared to go home.”

“Tell me about Rosa?” Michael asks, deciding to stick with the safer subject for now, to wait to ask about the painful past Alex had hinted at, even if he’s heard bits and pieces of it from the press and from Isobel’s commentary on the subject. “Might help with the song if I knew more about her.” He can see Alex getting ready to object, “I’m not talking personal stuff. Just– Tell me how you see her.”

Alex takes a sip of his milkshake before speaking, “Most people see her as tough. That’s this image that she projects. And she can be. If you hurt someone she loves, she won’t back down. But she’s also smart. Passionate about her art. And really caring.” He pauses, looks down before meeting Michael’s eyes. “She’s the first person I came out to. She was the person I went to when things were bad at home. She taught me how to use eyeliner and painted my nails and– everyone else thought I should be quiet, should hide.” Alex looks down, twirls his straw for a moment, “It’s not like I don’t understand why. They wanted me to be safe. Or some of them did. Some of them just wanted me to stay invisible.”

Michael wishes he could have known Alex back then, when he was a kid. He thinks he would have been amazed by the boy who was brave enough to be entirely himself, to raise a middle finger to the world who wanted him to be something different, something less than he is. He thinks his teenage self would have probably fallen head over heels for a teenaged Alex Manes.

“Rosa was the only person I really felt safe with back then. I wish I could have done the same for her when she needed me.” Michael is about to object when Alex says, “Thanks again for helping me with the song for her.”

“Alex,” Michael starts, “Addiction is– You know there’s nothing you could have done about that, right?”

“I could have been there,” Alex looks angry, but Michael knows that anger is entirely directed at himself. “She was struggling and I could have at least kept an eye on her. Might have kept her from being torn apart by the press.”

Michael wants to argue with him, but he can already see that Alex is his own harshest critic, that arguing with him right now won’t change his mind. So instead he says, “And what about you? What were you like growing up?”

“I was… struggling. And angry. My mom left when I was a kid and my dad hated me for who I was. For who I am. My brothers fell in line. I get it. They were trying to survive. But I was just so angry that the world wasn’t better, that people didn’t care. I’d show up to school with a black eye and people would just ignore it. Until my dad went to prison and then, all of a sudden, they acted like they always cared.”

“What happened?” Michael asks, taking the opening Alex offered. He’s heard bits and pieces of other people’s versions of what Alex’s father had done to him, but he knows Alex never commented on it publicly. Most of it had been overshadowed in the press by one of his brothers outing him anyway, as if Alex being gay was a scandal and not the fact that his father had tried to murder him for it. But he wants to hear Alex’s version. If he wants to tell it, of course. “I mean, you don’t have to–”

“The summer before my senior year of high school, my father caught me with a guy on the football team. I don’t remember a lot after that.” Alex pauses before saying, “I don’t remember what my dad did to me, only what the doctors and then the sheriff told me. And, after I was out of the hospital, the sheriff took me in.” He takes a deep breath before saying, “My mom showed up for a bit at first but– She didn’t really want to stick around. My brothers– Clay stuck by my dad’s side. He’s still defending him. He’s the one who…” Alex trails off, almost like he doesn’t want to say it.

So Michael offers, “Outed you?”

Alex nods, “It’s not like I don’t get it. Him defending my father, I mean. I know how trauma can fuck with your head.” Michael wants to argue, to say that what Clay did was unforgivable, but, at the same time, he’s amazed that Alex is so understanding toward someone who hurt him so much and so publicly. Alex continues, “Flint was with him for a while, but now both he and Gregory are working through things for themselves.”

Michael doesn’t know what to say. He wishes he would have been there when they were kids, knows he’d have put himself in harm’s way for Alex. He’s never met someone who is so kind to everyone, who sees the good in everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. Michael is absolutely certain that, even now, as an adult, he’d do anything to protect this man he barely knows. And that realization is terrifying. He’s never felt like that about anyone but his siblings. He has just met Alex Manes and already he’s certain that Alex could break his heart without even trying.

***

Thanks for reading! Chapter 3 will be posted later today!