#ignorant to hope but i really hope joost will actually stand up for what's right here and say something ANYTHING.

[richiebrook]

I wrote another unfinished Milex drabble. it’s a first draft and i’ve not proofread it so you have been warned. :-) (tw: depression)

Alex won’t move. It’s a Saturday morning, rain is battering down onto the windows and the house smells like coffee. Miles is in his element. He pours them both a cup, sings along to an old Maroon 5 song on the radio, and goes back into the living room, where he sets both cups down onto the coffee table. But Alex won’t move. He’s sitting up straight, his back aligned to the backrest, and he’s looking straight ahead. When Miles stops in front of him, those eyes seem to look right through him. Miles frowns. It’s a Saturday morning and the house smells of coffee. Alex shouldn’t be like this.

“Get up,” he says, not leaving much room for arguing. And Alex doesn’t argue. He doesn’t do much else either, except look up at Miles. Miles can see those eyes focus on him, and then Alex is looking at him instead of through him.

“Al. Babe. Get up.”

Alex swallows. Miles can see his Adam’s apple bob up and then down again. “What’s the time?” Alex wants to know, and Miles checks Alex’s phone, which is right by his wrist, on the armrest of his chair.

“It’s half ten. How long have you been ‘ere for?”

Alex shrugs one shoulder, as if shrugging two would cost him too much effort. “A while. I couldn’t just keep lying in bed.”

“And now you’re just sitting in your chair.”

Alex laughs. Miles can see the tears well up in his eyes.

“What are your plans for today then, Miles?” Alex is choosing his words very carefully, no matter how simple the question. He’s speaking more slowly than usually. There’s barely any intonation in his voice and Miles knows Alex is just talking to him to keep him there. He crouches down in front of him and rests his forearms on Alex’s knees. Alex instinctively leans forward a bit. Apart from that quick half-shrug, it’s the most Miles seen him move all morning.

“I was going to do some shoppin’, actually,” he confesses. “You keep borrowing my shirts and now I’m out of clean things to wear.”

“You could just do the laundry,” Alex points out blankly. He leans forward some more and reaches for one of Miles’ underarms, folding his fingers around it in one slow movement. He squeezes, a bit too hard to be comfortable, but Miles lets him.

“You could just do the laundry,” Miles fires back, and he flashes him a smile. He reaches back with the arm that Alex isn’t clutching, and picks up one of the coffee mugs. There’s a Yellow Submarine print on it and it’s his favourite mug. He hands it to Alex. “But maybe save that for tomorrow. You’re busy today.”

“Am I?” Alex accepts the mug and slides his thumb over one of the bright yellow submarines on the china. He lets go of Miles’ arm to roughly wipe at his eyes, then reaches down to grab a hold of it again.

“You are, babe, yes,” Miles murmurs. He watches Alex sip his coffee and folds his hand over the hand that still has his arm in a tight grip. “You’re going to have to go into town with me.”

Alex really does laugh at that and it’s the least pleasant sound Miles has heard all day. It’s loud and empty, and it makes the little hairs on his neck stand up straight. “I’m not going with yeh,” Alex says. He has some more coffee and pulls at Miles’ arm.

“Shame. I was gonna treat you to lunch.”

“How about a pint?”

Miles frowns and reaches out to caress the back of Alex’s hand with his thumb. “No. Lunch. It’s my treat, so I get to decide.”

Alex scoffs. “I’m not interested. And I may not sound like it, but I am sorry. For what it’s worth.”

“You don’t understand, though,” Miles mutters, ignoring his apology. “I know for a fact that you’ll ‘borrow’ everything I buy today sooner rather than later, and I distinctly remember you telling me you’d go mad if you found more leopard print stuff in our ‘ouse. So I’m going to need yer input.”

“So shouldn’t you be buying more of the leopard print stuff?” Alex asks. “If you want to stop me from taking all of it, I mean?”

Miles sighs dramatically. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. I should do that. You’re right, Al; I might be good without your fashion advice after all. Thanks, babe.” He carefully pries Alex’s fingers from his arm and gets up, but as soon as he steps back, Alex scrambles to his feet as well. He’s pale and the leopard print robe he’s wearing seems too big on him, even though he and Miles wear the same size. Miles’ heart dares to make a hopeful little jump anyway.

Alex sets the mug aside and wrings his hands together nervously. “Joost one or two shops, no more than that,” he says. His voice is still lacking any emotion whatsoever, but Miles nods.

“Yeah, babe. One or two, tops. And lunch, after.”

Alex’s eyes are still puffy and Miles’ heart breaks all over again when Alex directs his gaze at him. “But you’ll help, yeah?”

“Yeah Al, I’ll help.”

“Good. Good.” Alex mutters. He’s still looking at Miles, but Miles knows he’s talking to himself - convincing himself.

“So,” says Miles. “Let’s take a shower first. I need one as well, so we might as well take one together.” He reaches for Alex’s shoulder, but Alex catapults himself at him simultaneously , and before Miles realises what’s happening, Alex is a dead weight sobbing into his shoulder. Miles freezes. He’s not seen Alex cry in a very long time and for a moment he isn’t sure where to put his hands or how to make it stop. He puts one arm around Alex’s waist and squeezes his hip. It can’t be comfortable, but Alex only holds onto him tighter and cries soundlessly into his shoulder. “Shh,” Miles whispers. “Baby, you’re alright. You’re okay.”

Except Alex isn’t okay, and Miles catches himself feeling relief as those tears keep flowing. And so he stops trying to make it stop. He lets Alex sob into his shirt. He lets him squeeze his waist and upper arm in a death grip. He threads gentle fingers through greasy hair and uses his other hand on Alex’s lower back to press Alex flush to him. Alex is trembling, and the closer Miles holds him the louder, the more heart-wrenching his sobs get. Miles kisses his head and rubs his back. He squeezes his own eyes shut tightly and waits.

And then, after what feels like forever, Alex goes quiet. Miles can still feel his heart beat rapidly, but his arms and hands slowly relax, relieving their grip on Miles. He rests his cheek against Miles’ shoulder and caresses the spot on his upper arm that Miles is fairly sure will turn into a bruise. Miles doesn’t do anything just yet. He knows he doesn’t have to.

And he doesn’t.  It’s Alex who speaks up, first. “So,” he mutters. He brushes his fingers over Miles’ shoulder and the soaked material of his T-shirt. “I’m guessing you don’t need that shower anymore. Sorry.” His voice is rough and his accent thick, and Miles lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“And miss out on the chance to see you naked?” he asks. “I didn’t think so.”

Alex murmurs something about Miles getting to see him naked at any chance he gets, but he doesn’t protest when Miles starts leading him to the bathroom. As Miles peels off the robe and the trackie bottoms Alex is wearing under it, Alex rubs his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. “I’m exhausted,” he complains, and Miles smiles a little. “Nice try. You’re still going shopping with me.”

Alex laughs quietly. “I know,” he murmurs. “You’d be lost if I didn’t. It’s not like I’ve an actual choice in the matter, is it.”

Miles smiles at him. “You really don’t,” he says, leaning forward to press his lips to Alex’s cheek. “So let’s get ready, shall we? We can’t stand here all day; we’ve places to be, leopard print shirts to buy.”

As he steps into the shower, he catches Alex snickering and shaking his head, and then Alex is climbing in after him and wrapping his arms around Miles’ waist again. Miles nods to him in encouragement even though he isn’t sure why, and turns on the shower. Alex gives him a determined little nod in return and closes his eyes, seemingly contented for now to just let the hot water wash over him. Miles kisses him again for that. He knows it’s going to be a long day, but so far, so good.