Chapter Text
The viola stayed under Alex's chin even as his bow slowed and his fingers fell limp against the neck.
Maria kicked him to tell him he was fucking up, but he couldn't fix it. He was far too busy watching as Michael Guerin, quarterback of the football team who was being scouted by five different universities, slipped into the band room with a note in his hand. He had that award-winning smile on his face as he strolled towards Mr. Richard. Alex couldn't take his eyes off him; he never could.
Two months ago, he'd been assigned to tutor Michael Guerin because he was failing English. He'd been annoyed at first. While everyone else found him charming, Alex found him annoying, arrogant, and chronically heterosexual at best. However, two conversations with him later, he discovered he was a goddamn math genius and he wasn't actually bad at English either, he just didn't put in the effort. Alex had just made himself a personal pest rather than a tutor, breathing over his shoulder until he did his work. That hovering turned into something a tad unexpected...
"Alex," Mr. Richard said, not stopping as he waved the paper in the air, "Mrs. Doyle needs you, bring your bag."
Alex nodded, ignoring Maria's confused look as he quickly packed up his viola and headed towards the door of the band room. Michael was leaning against the wall beside the door, flashing that mischievous grin.
"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," he teased, speed walking down the concrete pathway that led to the virtually abandoned old gym that was only used during volleyball season. Michael had swiped his coach's key and made a copy, letting both of them inside.
"You can't just take me out of class whenever you're bored," Alex scolded, following him through the dimly lit gym towards the locker room without question. As much as those butterflies in his stomach were going crazy, he never let that show. It was easier to pretend he didn't really give a shit about him if he acted like it at all times.
"Who said I was bored? You can't make assumptions like that, Manes," Michael said, still grinning wildly as he unlocked the office that was used as storage more than anything. There were stacks of extra chairs and two old desks.
"I'm not making assumptions, I know you," he said, carefully putting down his case and his bag, "But seriously, our concert is in a month and I have a solo."
"Ooh, violin solo? Look at you," Michael teased. Alex rolled his eyes, standing up and looking at Michael who was waiting patiently for him with his hands behind his back.
"Viola," he corrected. Michael shrugged like the difference didn't matter, rolling from his heels to his toes and then back again. Alex stared at him blankly. "So what’s so important that you couldn't wait until after class?"
Michael's grin became entirely childish as he took a step closer. Alex leaned his hands back on one of the desks, lifting himself to sit on it easily.
"I had a dream about you last night," Michael said. Alex raised a lazy eyebrow despite his genuine interest.
Whatever they did wasn't real. It was something Alex had found to be very useful for bribery whenever Michael needed to do homework or a stress relief tactic, all born out of Michael's innocent questioning if the rumors about Alex were true. Alex was nothing more than a step in Michael's coming out process. But that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it.
"You were in that sexy little concert uniform, playing me a song, kept me distracted all day," Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.
"What are you talking about? My black slacks and white button-up? That's not sexy," Alex said. Michael bit down on his lip, eyes scanning over him anyway.
"Don't forget the bowtie," Michael breathed, taking another step closer, "Can I touch you?"
"Depends," Alex said, watching Michael snap his eyes up to meet his to wait for the permission he needed, "Did you finish that book report that's due tomorrow?"
"Yes," Michael answered.
"Mhm, what was it about?" Alex asked. Michael gave a soft sigh of disbelief, his shoulders dropping.
"Really, Alex?" Alex didn't budge. "It was about the roles the different women in Okonkwo's life played."
"Length?"
Michael gave a soft, pathetic whine. Alex leaned back against the wall, thighs spread wide, and letting Michael continue to bounce up on his toes.
"1,534 words, double spaced," Michael answered.
"And?"
"And MLA format, c'mon, Alex," he groaned. Alex allowed a small smile and raised his hand, gesturing him forward. Michael broke out in a smile, barrelling forward to fit between his thighs and his lips meeting Alex's.
Alex locked his legs around his hips, holding onto the back of his head as he kissed him without thought. It was slow, deep, deliberate as Michael pressed in as much as he could. Alex leaned his head against the wall, Michael holding his hips at the edge of the desk to keep them close to his.
Touching him made it obvious how pent up with unused energy he was. He didn't have practice this morning, leaving him extra antsy and needing an outlet. Alex started to push off his letterman jacket with one hand, leading his head to the crook of his neck. Michael shook off the jacket and audibly sighed in relief as Alex touched his arm, slipping under the short sleeve.
"That why you couldn't wait?" Alex asked, voice breathy as Michael skillfully kissed and bit at his neck without leaving a mark. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt to touch more of his skin, feeling the way it helped him relax.
"I just," Michael whispered, pausing just for a second to speak as he squeezed Alex's hips, "There's so much fucking chaos in my head, sometimes I just need you to make it shut the fuck up."
"Sex is really that distracting for you?" Alex asked, laughter in his voice. To him, sleeping with people definitely didn't make his brain stop. If anything, it made him think more.
"No," Michael breathed, his face still in Alex's neck, "It's just you."
Alex felt his entire body go rigid and he thought about pushing him away. It felt like he crossed some sort of unspoken line, but he hadn't. Not really. It was just... A lot.
"Dreaming about you was actually kinda nice, sexy outfit aside,” Michael admitted, huffing a laugh, "Woke up feeling well rested for once."
"Um," Alex breathed, swallowing harder than he meant to. He let his legs drop from where they were locked around his hips. "Maybe we should..."
"Nah, I'm good, sorry," Michael said, lifting his head and kissing him again. Alex pushed away his concerns probably a little too effectively, focusing on his lips as he grabbed a handful of his hair.
They kissed and touched until the bell rang. That part was unintentional and they had to be each other's mirror, fixing up each other's hair and their clothes to make sure they looked normal whenever they went to their next class. Alex deliberately avoided eye contact, not ready to face the weird admissions that came up.
"So, uh, you'll come over after you get out of band practice?" Michael clarified before they left.
"Do I need to? I mean, you already finished your paper," Alex pointed out. Michael's eyes flickered over his face.
"Uh, yeah, right, nevermind," Michael said, putting some space between them until his back hit a stack of chairs and he jumped. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. That was easily the least smooth he'd ever seemed.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes," Michael said firmly, "Sanders is just working late and I had some math homework, but yeah I'm good."
"You're good at math, Guerin," Alex laughed.
"I know," Michael said, a smile slowly coming to his face, "Which is why I said I'm good. Let's go, don't wanna be late."
Alex left first, waiting outside the gym as Michael locked up both the office and the gym. His better judgment told him to put more space between them, let Michael take some space so he could realize whatever he was feeling wasn't real. It'd be gone as soon as he gave it some thought and Alex needed to avoid hurting himself.
But, as Michael locked the gym door and the bell rang telling him he was late for class, Alex didn't budge.
"So, I'll see you after practice?" Alex said. Michael looked at him with wide eyes, but it slowly bled into a sweet smile and he nodded.
Alex headed to class, knowing he was making a mistake and refusing to have any regrets.
“Why did Mrs. Doyle need you?” Maria asked when he took his seat beside her. He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“Huh?”
“The art teacher? The one who called you out of class?” Maria filled in, but she soon realized something and her eyes widened, “Wait, you don’t even take art, Alex, what‒”
“Shh, class is starting.”
He avoided her questioning looks and changed the subject when she tried to bring it up. Eventually he’d probably have to talk about it, but it was much more fun to completely avoid that. He didn’t think he ever wanted people to know he was hooking up with Michael Guerin, at least not while he was in high school. Maybe he’d brag about it in a few years.
After practice, he quickly headed to the car that had been passed down through all of his brothers and started his drive to the back of junkyard where Michael lived in a trailer with Old Man Sanders. Halfway through, his phone started ringing. The only reason he answered it was because of the name across his screen.
“There better be a good reason you’re calling because you interrupted a really good song,” Alex said playfully. His brother’s laugh was clear on the other side of the call, clear enough to tell Alex he was actually somewhere with good reception.
“I can hang up and leave you to it, but I had a small window and I wanted to make sure you were all good,” Flint said. Alex smiled easily. He missed Flint more than he ever thought he would. Their relationships got better once he was out of the house and they weren’t being directly put against each other anymore.
“Yeah, Dad’s been chill lately,” Alex said.
“Good, good,” Flint said softly.
“Where are you now?”
“Uh, can’t say, you know how it is,” he said. Alex rolled his eyes.
“What’s the point of it being called the family business if you can’t tell family?”
“You know how it is, Alex, you’re not quite a Manes Man yet.”
“I turn 18 in super soon and Dad is already trying to talk to me about the Air Force which means that eventually he’s going to have the whole Family Business talk with me,” Alex said, annoyance in his voice. He was always stuck in this weird middle ground where he both felt left out and wanted nothing to do with it. The idea of being under his dad’s thumb for his whole life sounded like hell, but there was something kind of cool about their multi-generational dynasty of researchers. He didn’t know too much about exactly what they did, but he knew rich people paid them a lot of money for it. Alex was pretty sure they were spies. “I should get to know where my own brothers are.”
“Well, you know where Greg and Clay are, isn’t that close enough?” Flint teased.
“Clay is boring and Greg gives me history lessons every time I ask him where he is,” Alex groaned, “At least you go cool places.”
“It’s because I’m the coolest,” Flint bragged. Alex rolled his eyes. “Here, I’ll give you a hint: it’s really fucking cold.”
“Canada?” Alex guessed, “Somewhere in Europe? You promised if you went back to Europe you’d get me something.”
“Good thing I’m not in Europe,” Flint laughed, “Not in Canada either. But, hey, look, I gotta go, I was just checking in.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to get out of talking to me before I can figure out where you are.”
“You got me,” Flint said, “But I also have to actually go. I’ll try to come see you soon.”
“Bring me something cool when you do.”
“I’ll do my best. Alright, love you, bye, weirdo.”
“Bye!”
Alex ended the call just as parked behind Michael’s truck and it wasn’t long before he found himself in his kitchen, mixing together ingredients to make cookies as the oven preheated and forgetting all about Flint. Michael had been the one to offer to make the cookies, to give them something to eat while they did homework, but it quickly turned into Alex doing all the work and neither of them was surprised by that.
Nor were they surprised when Michael still wanted something to do. Alex let himself focus on the kisses Michael was putting on his neck, his eyes slowly closing as he completely forgot what he was doing and rough hands slid beneath his shirt. He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into Michael today. He was always touchy, but today he’d brought it to an all new level. Alex didn’t say anything. He liked how desired it made him feel.
However, that only lasted up until the moment they heard his dad’s truck drive up. Alex pushed him off and pulled up the collar of his shirt to wipe his neck dry. Michael quickly hopped up to sit on the other side of the oven, effectively putting a few feet between them by the time Old Man Sanders walked inside.
“Boys,” he said, putting his keys on the hook beside the door.
“Sanders,” Michael said, mimicking the gruff tone of his voice.
“Hi, Mr. Sanders,” Alex said, giving the most respectful smile he could manage. Sanders was probably used to him being here at this point considering Alex found himself at Michael’s at least twice a week. He was a very dedicated tutor, after all. However, Alex was taught nothing if not to give the best impression to adults as possible.
Sanders, however, never seemed to put up the same over the top act. He walked closer, peering into the bowl of half mixed cookie dough with a raised eyebrow.
“Y’all planning on making dinner or just desert?”
“Haven’t decided,” Michael answered. Sanders nodded.
“Alright,” he said. He looked at Alex and then over to Michael. “Make sure you leave that door open, you know this trailer has thin walls.”
Alex held his breath and Michael’s eyes widened. “Dude!”
“Don’t act like that, I know you.”
“Alex is my tutor, ” Michael pointed out. Alex wanted to laugh. As if that would stop him.
“Well it ain’t Alex I’m worried about,” Sanders said. Michael watched him with an unreadable expression until Sanders reached up to ruffle his hair. “Relax, I’m messing with you, boy. You know I trust you more than my own eyes. But I still don’t need Sargent Jackass thinking you corrupted his boy. No offense.”
“None taken,” Alex laughed, letting himself relax when he realized he didn’t care. Sanders suspected something and he didn’t care. That was kind of nice.
“Good kid,” Sanders said, taking a deep breath, “Well, make sure you feed that dog. Alex, you can stay as late as you need.”
Sanders shuffled back to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Michael leaned his ear against the wall, holding a finger out to Alex to tell him to wait. Alex just rolled his eyes and went back to stirring. Seconds after the shower turned on, Michael was back to being pressed up against him and taking his ear between his teeth.
“Oh, I’m gonna corrupt you alright,” Michael said, voice rough as he pulled Alex’s ass as close as he physically could.
Alex gasped playfully, grabbing his wrists and easily flipping them so Michael’s back was the counter. Michael’s eyes widened and his smile was borderline filthy as Alex pushed up against him. He leaned in close and Michael’s eyes drifted down to his lips before meeting his eyes again.
“You know better than anyone that there’s not much left to corrupt,” Alex said softly, “And what happened to asking?”
Michael nodded, still grinning as he looked at him with those dopey eyes.
“Right, sorry,” he said, “Can you please spit in my‒”
“I’m gonna finish these cookies,” Alex said, gently pushing him out of the way. Michael laughed softly, but he stayed put as Alex did just that.
He eventually found himself on the floor of the living room as the cookies baked. Michael was reading his essay and Alex laid, cuddling their old dog that only answered to the name Dog even though Sanders tried to give him a million names that never stuck. So he cuddled Dog and listened to Michael read and smelled the cookies that were baking. It was nice and homey in a way that made him never want to leave.
It stayed nice as they went over the physics lecture while eating cookies. It stayed nice when Michael fed Dog and suggested they go to his bedroom so they didn’t have to listen to him eat. It stayed nice when his books ended up on the floor and Michael ended up in his lap. It was even nice when Michael bit into his shoulder to keep quiet.
“Okay, so we have 4x²+12x=135, so how does that factor?”
Alex was laying in Michael’s bed, half naked and body still a little hazy as he focused on the homework that he came over to do in the first place. Michael was distracting, but he was going to at least pretend to help with his homework.
“Hmm,” Michael hummed, flopping down beside him after replacing his briefs, “Both factors start with -2x, right?”
“Right,” Alex confirmed, smiling a little to himself. Michael was a math genius and algebra was his specialty, but Alex quite enjoyed when he was able to fog up his brain to the point he had to actually think. “So factors of 135 are 3 and 45, 5 and 27, and 9 and 15, so which of those pairings help you get the factors of the equation?”
“What was it again?” Michael asked, voice genuinely a little lost. Alex rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling as he felt Michael roll closer to peer over his shoulder.
“4x²+12x=135,” Alex repeated. In the middle of his reading, though, Michael had gone back to kissing on his neck. “Hey, pay attention.”
“I am, I am, keep talking,” Michael urged, his hand sliding down until it started to edge past the waistband of Alex’s unbuttoned jeans.
“Keep talking?” Alex laughed, playfully nudging him before squirming a little as Michael's thumb pressed against the hickey he'd left on his ass that was still a little sensitive, “Are you getting off on me reading you equations?”
“You’re just so hot,” Michael breathed, but Alex wasn’t too stupid to hear the concealed yes in his words. He laughed and rolled onto his side, shoving Michael gently.
“You are! You fucking weirdo,” Alex teased, still laughing as Michael rested his head on the bed now that Alex had rolled away. He had that endlessly fond smile that he only gave when they were alone, his curls flopping towards the bed because of gravity. He was ridiculously gorgeous and overwhelmingly sweet. But that was too close to feelings, so Alex looked back to the math. “And you say that I’m a nerd.”
“What if I read you some Shakespeare, would you get turned on then?” Michael questioned. Alex just rolled his eyes and did his best to focus. Michael settled against his back, peering over his shoulder. “Okay, where were we?”
“Yeah, where were we?” Alex echoed.
Thirty minutes passed as Alex talked over Michael's homework. A few minutes in he'd resigned to the understanding that Michael wasn't really listening. He'd rested his head against Alex's back, his eyelashes brushing his skin as they closed and didn't reopen by the time Alex reached the third question. The only reason he knew he hadn't fallen asleep was because, at some point, he'd begun to play with Alex's fingers and he hadn't stopped.
It was weirdly peaceful between them. They didn't do this. They didn't cuddle or touch unless it was leading to something else. That made it feel less like convenience and more like he actually wanted to be here. It made things blurry in a way Alex wasn't prepared for. So why wasn't he putting a stop to it?
After a moment, he found himself not even focusing on the math anymore. Instead his eyes stayed on the way Michael's rough fingers rubbed against Alex's precise calluses that came from playing a stringed instrument every day for years. It was a drastic contrast, similar to the one that came with Michael's torn up nails and Alex's neatly painted ones.
"You need to stop biting your nails," Alex told him softly. Michael breathed in heavily like he was being woken up, lifting his head off Alex's back and leaving him cold.
"Paint them for me and maybe I'll stop," he said, voice rough and sleepy in a way that struck Alex in his chest.
"Wouldn't you get made fun of?" Alex asked.
"Fuck 'em," Michael said. That paired with the cuddling and the whole dream comment from before was... a lot . Alex cleared his throat.
"Okay."
Within a few minutes, Alex found himself perched on Michael's lap and a bottle of nail polish balancing on his math homework. It was a pretty compromising position, both of them shirtless and disregarding the homework he was here for, but Alex couldn't bring himself to mind.
"I wish I could see the look on Valenti's face when he sees this," Alex said, painting the black varnish over his nails. They were short and torn up, the skin around them just as bitten, and Alex knew his work would be messed up within a couple days, but he kept on nonetheless.
"Nah, he won't actually care. The dude tries so hard to fit in that he forgets to have his own opinions. He won't react until someone else does first," Michael told him. He looked dazed and sleepy, his cocky walls thrown to the wind. It was Alex's favorite version of him.
"Still. I don't know how you deal with all of that shit."
Michael shrugged. "It's not like I'm out or anything, so it’s not at me."
"Yeah, but doesn't it bother you hearing them say homophobic shit? I don't think I could stay quiet all the time," Alex said, raising Michael hand closer to his lips. He blew on his nails gently before swapping hands. His freshly painted one rested on Alex's thigh.
"It's easier to stay quiet," Michael admitted. Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Then aren't you just doing the same thing Kyle does?"
"I don't conform so much that I lose myself," Michael said, shifting a little bit as his eyes focused somewhere to Alex's left. "I, uh, I just spent so much of my life in foster care and bouncing around to shitty houses where silence was the best option. It's not an easy habit to unlearn."
"Oh," Alex said, eyes widening a little, "I didn't know that."
"Yeah," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "Once you hit a certain age, they just start putting you in group homes because most families don't want to foster teenage boys. I get it, I guess, but the one I was in last was hell. Everything I did was wrong and I paid for it."
"How'd you end up with Old Man Sanders, then?" Alex asked.
"Long story," Michael said, "But basically he found out I was sleeping in one of the abandoned trucks in the junkyard and instead of sending me back, he went through all the work to get certified to foster and went through hell to get me in his care. I basically just got really fucking lucky."
"Sounds like it," Alex agreed. He didn't have the right words for it and, honestly, he wasn't sure he'd say them if he did. Michael was sharing more than he usually did. They were still in this weird middle ground of doing things they didn't do and Alex didn't want to pop the bubble.
"But my point is that it's not as easy as just speaking your mind," Michael said. Alex nodded, switching hands again to put a second coat. He thought about doing a third coat just to have an excuse to stay in his lap.
"Reminds me of my brother," Alex admitted. Michael laughed and Alex glanced at his face for a second, that easy smile on his lips.
"Your brother? That's a funny way to say you don't think I'm hot," Michael teased. Alex rolled his eyes.
"I meant the whole conformity thing. He used to have a personality, I think, and sometimes he’s still cool, but somewhere along the line he just stopped fighting. It was easier to keep his mouth shut and do what my dad said. Even now he does that, goes where my dad tells him to. I never really got it, but I guess you have a point," Alex said, “I’m just not a fan.”
"You've just got massive balls, dude," Michael said, shaking his head, "Seriously, I know I joke that you're just a band geek, but it takes balls to be you and refuse to conform no matter what. It's... It's really impressive. Sometimes I wish I could be like you."
Alex stared at him for a long minute. He didn't know what earned him this version of this man but he didn't want to go back. He let himself be a little reckless; he let himself fall just a bit.
He leaned in for a kiss and it was welcomed. Michael wrapped one arm around Alex and placed his free hand on his cheek. It felt so natural to be with him in this way and that in itself was overwhelming. But, in the morning, they'd go back to normal. Tonight was a fluke.
Michael tightened his grip on him and moved so Alex's back was pressed into the mattress. Alex weaved his hands into his hair and wrapped his legs around his hips. Michael was warm and relaxed, just comfortable with being with him. Alex had an unhealthy attachment to it. He needed to put space between them before he got his heart broken.
He pulled Michael closer.
They shared breath as Michael kept the pace slow, each kiss seeming to hold their own distinct and equally important purpose. Alex's heart was slamming in his chest and he didn't mind.
He dragged his hand over his back. Michael had scars all over him, almost as much as Alex, and he kept them covered with clothes as often as possible. But here he was bare and Alex could feel them. He put his hand flat against the small of his back, pulling him down even more. Michael smiled.
It was all ruined by Alex's alarm going off.
"What the fuck is that?" Michael asked, lifting his head just barely. Alex shoved his shoulders gently.
"I gotta go," Alex said, sitting up and reaching for his shirt after he turned his curfew warning alarm off.
"Go? Dude, it's late, just stay," Michael urged softly, that same voice from earlier that day when he asked Alex to come over despite not needing his help. A hand crossed over the front of his chest, trying to push him back into bed. Alex pushed his hand away, hoping it would also push away the butterflies that filled his stomach at the request to just stay .
"My dad would freak out if I did that," Alex said.
"What happened to not conforming?" Michael asked. Alex rolled his eyes.
"Not the same thing," Alex told him. Michael still had that look on his face like he actually didn't want him to go. And Alex really didn't want to. "I gotta go."
"But…" he said, his eyes darting around the room as if it would give him an excuse to make Alex stay. "At least let me drive you home."
"I drove here," Alex laughed. Michael scowled and gave an irritated pout. Alex made the questionable decision to kiss it off his face. When he pulled away, Michael's eyes were still closed and he signed.
"This is torture, you know that, right?" Michael groaned. Alex stood up and Michael collapsed onto the pillow. It was only then that Alex realized the bottle of nail polish hadn't spilled. He didn't comment on it as he reached over to grab it and closed it.
"You already got off tonight and you have two whole hands, so I don't consider it torture," Alex said decidedly, slipping the bottle into his pocket.
Michael wrapped the pillow up in his arms, cuddling into it as he stared up at Alex with those eyes that were hard to deny. Part of him wanted to cave and crawl back into bed, but a much bigger part knew that would only be bad for him. He needed to take a day or two away from him and reset so he didn't end up catching feelings. Or, more feelings.
"You're so mean to me."
"Shut up," Alex laughed, stepping into his shoes. He picked up his bag and pulled it over his head. Michael still looked utterly pathetic. "You know, for a jock, you're pretty whiny."
"Fuck you."
"I know you want to," Alex teased. Michael breathed in deep.
"God, I really, really do."
"I'll see you whenever," Alex laughed, grabbing his keys.
"Tomorrow," Michael corrected. Alex smiled and opened his bedroom door.
"Tomorrow."