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When Michael pulls up to the stretch of Foster’s Ranch his Airstream is parked on, he’s surprised to find someone waiting for him.
There’s an unfamiliar Jeep parked out front and a man with short dark hair standing beside it wearing dark-wash jeans and a green sweater. When the rumbling of his truck grows loud enough for him to hear, the stranger turns around to face him and Michael just about has a heart attack.
Standing in front of his trailer, looking just as achingly beautiful as he had the last time Michael saw him three years ago, is Alex fucking Manes.
Michael’s truck jerks to a stop an awkward distance away from his doorstep. He sits there, foot on the brake, car still in drive, his ears ringing to the tune of Alex, Alex, Alex.
He’s not sure how much time passes before Alex gives an awkward little wave, but it jolts Michael out of his own head. He parks the car hastily and climbs out, the desert floor crunching under his boots as he walks the rest of the way over.
“Alex,” he says once he’s close enough, eyes wide as he takes in every detail like Alex will disappear the moment he closes them. Alex’s nose ring is gone, and so is the eyeliner, but that little flash of teeth as he smiles—oh, that’s still very much the same and Michael’s heart aches.
“Guerin,” Alex greets back, sounding every bit as effected as Michael feels. Hearing his name from those lips again just about sends Michael to his knees.
Michael hangs onto his dignity by a thread and says, “I didn’t know you were back.”
Alex’s smile dims a little and Michael could kick himself.
“Yeah, about that…” Alex says, a strange, sad quality to his voice. “Can I… can I come in?”
Michael swallows the lump in his throat, nods, and heads toward his Airstream.
As he leads Alex inside, he’s suddenly thankful Isobel bullied him into cleaning up when she stopped by for one of their bitch sessions the other day. His bed’s not made, but his clothes are in his closet where they’re supposed to be and his research, which is usually scattered here and there, has been collected and stored in a bin under his bed.
“Nice place,” Alex comments, taking in his surroundings. Michael’s about to laugh when it occurs to him that Alex’s barracks might be even more Spartan than his tin can.
“Eh, it’s nothing special,” Michael shrugs.
Alex makes a face like he disagrees. “You’ve got a safe place you can go and do whatever you want in. You have a home now, Guerin,” Alex insists. “How’s that not special?”
It’s the mention of home more than anything else that shatters the dream he’s been living in these past few minutes. Because, yeah, he’s not roughing it in his truck anymore and this place is a decent upgrade with actual walls and a real bed, but the only home he’s ever had is standing right in front of him. And he left.
“Why are you here, Alex?” The question is out of his mouth before he gives his lips permission.
Alex lets out a breath, taking a hesitant step closer. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?” Alex looks wounded the second he says it, but Michael needs to know.
“Do you really need to ask?” Alex reaches for him, but Michael takes a step back, needing to maintain a little distance to keep a clear head. He’ll give Alex his whole heart if he wants it, but first he has some explaining to do.
“A little bit, yeah,” Michael asks, his voice raising in pitch and Alex looks down at his feet, cowed by Michael’s rejection. “I mean, shit, Alex, I haven’t gotten so much as a postcard from you in years. You ignored every letter I sent you, how am I—“ Michael stops suddenly when Alex’s head snaps up.
“You sent me letters?” Alex asks, eyes wide and surprised.
That makes Michael pause. “Yeah. You didn’t get them?”
Alex shakes his head. “Did you get mine?”
Michael’s mouth drops as he shakes his head. Alex wrote to him?
Silence hangs between them before Alex curses angrily, “That motherfucking son of a bitch,” and Michael connects the dots from there all on his own.
Michael stands there in shocked silence, though a voice inside his head tells him he shouldn’t be. Of course Alex being thousands of miles away, in the goddamn Air Force, wasn’t enough of a victory for him. Of course he just had to salt the wound and burn out every last piece of evidence that Michael and Alex had ever had something. Of course he had to make them both think they’d been forgotten, that they didn’t care about each other anymore, or maybe never did at all.
Michael’s no stranger to being hated by people, but the depth of Jesse Manes’ disdain for his youngest son stretches the bounds of comprehension.
“God,” Alex continues, “just when I think he can’t possibly fuck me over any more than he already has...” Alex’s voice drops off in disbelief.
“So…” Michael starts eventually, drawing Alex’s attention back to him, “you thought I ignored your letters and you still came all the way over here?”
“I had to,” Alex says softly but with conviction and, fuck, now Michael wants to fucking cry. This time when Alex reaches for his face to cradle his jaw, Michael lets him. “And all this time you thought I just left and that was it? That I just forgot about you?”
Michael shrugs and sniffles a little, the look on his face all the confirmation Alex needs. Alex makes a pained noise, bringing their foreheads together, and Michael’s entire world narrows to the scant few inches of space between them, to Alex’s palm warm against his cheek.
“I could never,” Alex whispers, and Michael closes the distance between them without another thought.
Michael has kissed a lot of people in his life, some more memorable than others, but not a single one has ever felt anything like this. Kissing Alex feels like a homecoming, his lips soft against his mouth, drawing him in deeper and deeper passed the point of no return. As Alex’s fingers twist their way into his wild curls, Michael yields to the sensation completely and inexorably, sinking into that place where he’s safe and loved and warm, a place he’s only ever reached in Alex’s arms. When Alex licks across the seam of his lips, Michael moans, powerless to resist, his mouth opening freely to Alex’s tongue.
They’re horizontal on Michael’s bed before he knows it, Alex straddling his lap and pushing his hands under Michael’s t-shirt, his sweatshirt and shoes already abandoned in a heap on the floor. Michael rolls them over as gracefully as he can, pulling back to take in the perfect image of Alex’s head resting on his pillow.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Michael says, leaning down to brush their noses together, overcome with happiness because Alex is here and kissing him like every dream he’s ever had.
“Me neither,“ Alex echoes, caressing his cheek before claiming Michael’s lips with his own once more.
“God, never fucking leave me again, Alex,” Michael gasps between fierce kisses, but instead of the affirmation Michael hopes for, Alex tenses under his fingers. A horrible feeling sinks into Michael’s gut. He pulls back to look at Alex and the second he sees the pain in his eyes he knows. “You’re not staying, are you?” he asks, voice hollow, feeling the ignorant bliss of a moment ago crashing down around his ears.
Alex shakes his head, and as soon as the words, “I’m sorry,” are out of his mouth, Michael pushes himself off of him and leans his back against the wall.
“Guerin, I’m sorry, don’t go,” Alex says, sitting up and reaching for him as if to pull him close again.
“I’m not the one who’s leaving, Alex,” Michael snaps, drawing his legs up to his chest. God, why can’t he ever catch a fucking break?
“I know,” Alex sighs and crosses his legs, placing his right elbow on his knee and running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t have a choice.”
Michael doesn’t need to ask why.
“You know, your startling lack of autonomy isn’t really cheering me up right now, Alex.” Michael can feel another apology on the tip of Alex’s tongue, but before he can say anything else he sighs and asks, “When do you leave?”
Alex hangs his head when he says, “Tomorrow morning.”
A hysterical laugh bubbles out of Michael’s chest.
“So—So, what, after three years I get one night with you?” he asks, despising the tears that well in his eyes, the tremble in his voice.
It’s not enough. Michael’s not sure any amount of time would ever be enough, but if he’s going to tear open his heart for Alex Manes again he’d hoped he’d get more than a single night to enjoy it.
“I know, I’m—I’m sorry, okay? I only just got back a few days ago and he’s had me running around doing all kinds of shit for him to keep me busy—“
“You’re on leave, Alex, he can’t control you—“
Alex laughs harshly. “Are we talking about the same person? You know what he’s capable of,” Alex argues and Michael flinches just a little at the memory, his left hand twitching against his knee. Alex tracks the movement and, slow enough so Michael could stop him if he wants to, he reaches forward to wrap his fingers around Michael’s ankle, the only part of him that’s close enough to touch. His thumb starts rubbing gentle circles when Michael doesn’t pull away from him.
“I couldn’t give him a reason to hurt you again, Michael,” Alex says, a desperate look in his eye. “I can’t and I won’t.”
“So how’d you get out here then?” Michael asks, voice rough when he finds it again.
“Well, he’s got cameras all over the property now. I was in the middle of trying to hack them so I could sneak out to see you when he ambushed me with plane tickets earlier today. Wouldn’t tell me where we’re going or why, just that I won’t be back in Roswell before I have to report back to base. I was able to convince him to let me spend my last night here with Maria.”
“Does she know about us?” Michael asks.
“A little,” he answers. “She doesn’t know who you are, but she agreed to cover for me.”
When Michael doesn’t say anything right away, Alex continues, voice barely above a whisper, “Look, I… I know tonight’s not enough to make up for the last three years, but… it’s all I’ve got.” Alex’s eyes shine with tears and Michael’s heart twists painfully in his chest. “But, um, I can go if you want me to,” he adds, voice shaking as he releases Michael’s ankle and leans a little further away from him. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to let me stay or anything.”
Michael swallows thickly, afraid if he lets himself cry like he wants to he’ll never stop. This isn’t fair. Jesse Manes shouldn’t have this much power over them. Alex shouldn’t be able to just waltz back into his life for a single night after years of no contact and tear him apart like it’s the first time all over again. And maybe worst of all, Michael shouldn’t be so fucking willing to let him.
No, none of this is fair, but the thought of letting Alex walk out that door a second before he has to, of giving up what could be the last chance Michael ever has to be with him… Well. Maybe Alex isn’t the only one without much of a choice here.
Alex looks to be bracing for a blow when Michael shifts on the bed, but once Michael pushes him back against the headboard with a hand against his chest and settles on his lap, his eyes are wide and awestruck. Alex’s hands come up to hover at Michael’s sides, unsure if he’s allowed to touch, but when Michael guides his hands to his hips, Alex grips them hard and without hesitation, as if Michael will drift away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. Michael relishes the pleasure-pain it brings him, secretly hoping he’ll bruise there in the shape of Alex’s fingers.
Michael leans down to brush a gentle kiss against Alex’s lips, deepening it when he tastes the salt of Alex’s tears finally spilling over. He pulls back a moment later, wiping the tear tracks from under Alex’s eyes as he looks at him, this beautiful, kind boy who owns his whole heart. Michael brings their foreheads together as he threads his fingers into Alex’s too-short hair, committing the way it feels to memory.
“If we’ve only got one night, we better make the most of it,” Michael says into the space between them.
Michael feels Alex nod. “Yeah,” he says, his breath ghosting over Michael’s mouth.
He cradles Michael’s jaw like something precious in his palm and Michael struggles to control the urge to sob into his shirt and beg him to stay with him forever. Instead, Michael leans in to kiss him again, pouring every emotion roiling through him into it until they’re both gasping and tearing at each others clothes.
They undress each other with unbridled urgency, skin seeking skin. Michael winds up with his back against the mattress as Alex gets his underwear off, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his stomach as he journeys farther south. Michael’s eyes roll up into his head as Alex gets his mouth on him, pulling whimper after whimper from him as he starts to suck.
It’s—fuck, it’s so good. Michael can’t tear his eyes away from where Alex works between his thighs, Alex’s mouth hot and wet around him, those pink lips stretched wide to accommodate his cock. His hips twitch upward in half-aborted thrusts as he tries not to fuck Alex’s throat. Alex presses down on his thighs to keep him still, making Michael feel open and on display in a way he never has before, and the intensity with which he wants that, to be entirely at Alex’s mercy, catches him completely off guard.
“Fuck me,” Michael begs, suddenly desperate for it.
Alex’s mouth stops working his cock and Michael doesn’t have to guess why. They’ve had sex dozens of times, but they’ve never done it that way before. He pulls off gently with a wet noise that makes Michael flush hotter.
“Are you sure?” Alex asks, pulling back to look him in the eye.
Michael nods.
“Have you—have you ever done that before?”
“Not really,” Michael confesses.
“Define ‘not really,’ please,” Alex asks.
Michael bites his bottom lip before he answers, “I’ve fingered myself before.”
“Yeah?” Alex asks, his voice rough with want at the mental picture. One of the hands he had anchoring Michael’s hips to the bed comes up to grip his cock again, thumb rubbing into that spot under the head that makes Michael see stars. “How many did you get in you?”
“Two,” Michael says, flushing high on his cheeks. He thinks about telling Alex about the dildo he bought but never worked up to using. He’s not sure why he’s feeling so vulnerable about it, but it feels like more than he’s willing to admit in this moment.
“Gonna need more than two tonight.”
“I know, I remember.” The few times Michael got inside him, he’d made Alex take at least three fingers before he even thought about fucking him. “Have you ever topped before?”
Alex shakes his head and blushes a little. “You’re still the only guy I’ve ever been with.”
Michael probably shouldn’t be happy about Alex’s lack of sexual intimacy for the last three years, especially when he himself has not been what one might call celibate, but he can’t help the little thrill that goes through him at the idea that he’s still the only one who’s ever made Alex come.
“So, you wanna?” Michael asks.
Alex laughs, “Of fucking course I want to.”
“Then get over here,” Michael whines.
“Do you even have lube?”
“Yeah, it’s—“ Michael rolls over, careful not to kick Alex as he feels around for something under the bed. He can’t reach it, so he feels out for it with his mind and suddenly there it is, sliding across the floor into his waiting palm. “Here,” he says, holding it out to Alex. He grabs the box of condoms under there as well and puts it on the edge of the narrow bed.
Alex arranges Michael on his hands and knees. He wishes he could watch Alex while they do this, but he knows it’ll be more comfortable for him this way so he follows Alex’s lead. His cock hangs hard between his thighs as Alex settles behind him on his knees. There’s the soft snik of the lube being uncapped and then Michael feels Alex grip his cheeks and separate them and oh god if he felt exposed before this is really something else.
“Fuck,” he hears Alex whisper just before he feels that first touch against his hole as Alex spreads lube around it before dipping the tip of his finger inside.
Michael is tight, really tight, but Alex is patient as he slowly works him open with one finger, and then two, murmuring encouragements against Michael’s spine and stroking his cock to distract him from the stretch.
Just when Michael is getting used to the sensation of Alex moving steadily in and out of him, Alex hits a certain spot inside him that has Michael keening.
“Oh fuck!” Michael shouts, shocks of pleasure ripping through him.
“It’s good, huh,” Alex says, his smug smile audible as he passes over that spot again, making Michael moan and arch his back like a cat. “Remember the first time you found mine?”
“Y-yeah,” Michael pants. The memory of Alex mewling under him and clenching down on his fingers is something that’ll stick with him forever. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
Alex gets back to work. By the time he’s is twisting three inside him, Michael is an utter mess, gasping and moaning as he fucks himself back on his fingers, his thighs spread wide and straining with the effort. It’s so much, but not enough, he needs more, he needs—
“Fuck me, Alex, please, ‘m ready, ‘m so ready, Alex,” Michael begs, desperate tears clinging to his lashes.
“God, Michael,” Alex moans, and Michael nearly cries when Alex pulls his fingers free from his body, the sudden feeling of emptiness not at all what he wants right now. “Never knew you’d get like this. Should’ve started fucking you ages ago.”
Before Michael can scoop enough of his brain off the floor to think of a response, he hears the tearing of a foil packet behind him. There’s a pause when Alex rolls the condom on before he nocks the thick head of his cock at Michael’s hole and pushes in and in and in.
“Oh my god, Michael,” Alex groans once he’s seated. “You’re so hot inside, Jesus Christ.”
Michael moans weakly, too overwhelmed by the stretch of Alex’s cock inside him to do much else. Alex waits until Michael’s adjusted to the fullness before he starts to move, driving his cock in and out of him with slow, measured thrusts. It’s good, really good, for a while, but soon Michael wants more.
“Harder,” he begs, rocking his hips back to fuck himself harder on Alex’s cock. Alex grabs his hips to stop him and Michael whines, “Alex.”
“Take it easy, I don’t want to hurt you,” Alex says, running his right hand up from his hip to stroke along his side.
“I can handle it, please,” Michael insists. He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to feel anything other than Alex, wants him to overwhelm the ever-present chaos swirling in his head, but more than anything… “Wanna feel you for days after you leave.”
Something in Alex’s willpower crumbles and he curses before he starts pounding into Michael’s body harder, faster, just like Michael wants, chasing every conscious thought that isn’t yes, fuck, right there, right out of his head. The sound of skin slapping on skin surrounds them as Michael reaches between his legs and starts jerking himself off in time with Alex’s thrusts, the combined stimulation on his prostate and his cock getting him closer and closer to coming.
Alex doesn’t last long after that, stilling suddenly behind him and then moaning loudly as he grinds his cock as deep as it’ll go. He rests his head against Michael’s back, his ragged breaths hitting his spine as Michael squirms under him, still hard and aching.
Alex pulls out and Michael whines at the empty feeling before Alex flips him over onto his back and slips three fingers inside him, seeking his prostate with brutal efficiency. He was already so close that Michael comes with a scream the second Alex seals his lips over the head of his cock and sucks, Michael’s body shaking as his release pulses down Alex’s throat.
Alex works him through it until Michael pushes him away, spent and overstimulated. Alex gently withdraws his fingers before he leans down over Michael to kiss him, but Michael’s too fucked out to do much more than lay there and let Alex lick into his mouth, the taste of his own come bitter on his tongue.
The kiss ends when Alex pulls back and lays down beside him, his right leg resting between Michael’s and his right arm hugging around his middle.
“Hey, you still with me?” Alex asks him, and Michael’s thoughts are still slow and thick as honey, but he nods all the same. “C’mon, use your words.”
“Just had my brain fucked out of me, gimme a minute,” he slurs, opening his eyes to see Alex smiling at him.
Alex laughs, a sound as sweet as it is smug. “So I did alright then?”
“You really have to ask?” Michael rolls over onto his side to face him. “Better than alright, Jesus, Alex, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”
Alex smiles at the praise and Michael leans in to kiss him again, savoring every gasp, every press of Alex’s lips on his like they’ll be the last ones he ever gets.
They lie there in silence long after their kisses have slowed to a stop, comfortably wrapped up in one another until Alex touches his face and whispers into the dark, “I wish I could stay here forever.”
“Me too,” Michael whispers back.
When Alex starts to shake in his arms, Michael holds him tighter and buries his nose in his hair. He staves off his own tears as best he can while Alex cries, but it becomes a losing battle when Alex’s hitching little sobs reach his ears.
“One day…” Michael starts once Alex has settled down again, his voice wobbling a little, “one day, we’re gonna figure this out, Alex. One day, you’re gonna be free of him.”
“You really believe that?”
No. Yes. I don’t know.
“I have to.”
“‘One day’ could be years from now,” Alex says pathetically. “What do we do until then?”
Michael sniffles. “Well, we still have tonight, right?”
Alex nods. “Yeah.”
Michael captures Alex’s lips in a slow kiss that lasts until Michael rolls Alex onto his back and straddles his hips.
“What are you doing?” Alex asks as Michael grasps his cock. He’s not hard yet, but Michael can feel him twitch against his palm.
“Making the most of it,” Michael shrugs, and then there’s not much talking after that.
Michael wakes up alone, the only traces that Alex was ever there the ache between his thighs and the slip of paper resting on the other side of his pillow.
It’s a note, scrawled hastily on a piece of graph paper Michael must have had lying around.
Michael,
I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just knew if I waited til you were awake, I’d never be able to make myself leave you again.
I wish things could be different. Maybe you’re right and one day they will be, but for now… I’m sorry.
And if this is my last chance to say it, I want you to know: I love you. He can keep us apart, but he can’t ever take that away from me.
Yours,
Alex
The letter tumbles from his fingers as Michael turns his face into his pillow, the fading scent of Alex’s shampoo his only comfort as his body is wracked with sobs.
That evening, Michael limps into the Wild Pony, feeling Alex in every step he takes. He winces a little as he settles on the wooden barstool and Maria serves him a glass of bottom shelf whiskey before he can order one.
“You get in a fight or something?” she asks, cocking her head to the side as she studies him.
“Huh?” he asks, glass halfway to his lips already.
“You walked in here looking like you just got your ass beat,” she explains.
Michael laughs, a bitter, broken sound. “You should see the other guy.”